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chloedrewitt · 1 month

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Book Review: "The Cruel Prince" by Holly Black

Spoiler-free

Genre: young adult, fantasy • Triggers: murder, death, suicide, graphic descriptions of corpses, bullying, child abuse • Year of Publication: 2018

Plot: ★★★

Characters: ★★

Writing Style: ★

Re-Readability: ★★★

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General Thoughts

I want to start this by saying that I really wanted to like this book. Unfortunately, I ended up hating it. The plot is incredibly interesting and the idea of the Faerie world super engaging. However, everything that I liked about this book ends exactly there. I really did like the plot and all the ideas Black had, however her writing is simply not for me. Had another author with a different style written this book I am sure I would have enjoyed it. But let's get into the review, and please, remember this is purely my subjective opinion. This book is widely popular, so it has found its audience for sure. I just wasn't part of that, and that is okay. Nevertheless, I wanted to share my thoughts.

Plot

As I said above, the plot is the book's strong suit for me. Despite the fact that, keeping faerie's hate for mortals in mind, it would have made more sense to me had Madoc killed Jude and Taryn then and there in the prologue. Why does Madoc take Jude and Taryn with him to raise them? It would only make sense to kill the children that blossomed out of a union such as their parents, without giving too much away. Is it fae customs not to? Is it some sort of personal ego problem he has? Is it empathy, despite the obvious “monster”-like personality? It is never fully explained to the extent where I could say “Ah, yes! That makes sense.” (Maybe it is explained in the sequels, I can’t say).

Another thing that made no sense to me was when the spies captured Cardan. I won't get into too many details to still keep this spoiler free, but there was this one occurrence I really had trouble finding realistic. In that scene, the spies, the ones with the actual experience and training, let Cardan go to have a drink with him. Because he is oh, so charming. Keep in mind, Cardan is the only one who can seal his brother’s reign, which would be bloody and cruel (I think the book’s title refers more to his brother than Cardan. I won't say which brother though). It seems like a completely illogical plot device to show how amazing Jude is and how she knows everything better than the others. You know, the actual spies. Even if they don’t care what happens to Faerie or its king, I find it very OOC for a spy to free one of their captives, especially to have a drink with him. They should be able to resist Cardan’s "charm".

Still, even with these inconsistencies, I thought the plot was engaging and interesting. The whole setting, a human girl growing up in the faerie lands who sort of has to navigate this world where even the food could kill her any moment, sounds very intriguing. I also loved how the faerie's around her manipulated her despite the fact she was the only one able to lie.

I do, however, want to state that this is not an enemies to lovers in my opinion. The romance is merely a sub plot anyway and did not really do it for me, but Cardan e.g. kicking dirt in Jude's food is bullying, nothing more. To me, this is a bullies to lovers if anything. Still, the main plot saved the book for me, but unfortunately it was not enough for me to continue the series.

Characters

This is where the story really begins to crumble for me. I barely liked any characters. Probably the only ones who did not annoy me where Vivienne and Cardan, but only in the second half of the book.

Let’s start with Jude, since she is the main character. It might be because I am in my 20s and she is still a child (16 or 17 I believe), but Jude annoyed me so much. The only thing that made sense about her was the fact that she wanted to prove to herself and the fae that she was worthy. Which, after living in a world that tells you you are dirt is understandable. I will get more into the writing style later, but it was so dry and emotionless that it made her sound like some robot, programmed to do only one thing: prove to the pretty fae that she’s worthy. Not to mention, it also made her sound very immature. Jude gets praised by the book community for being this super strong heroine that is super relatable and people can look up to - but I just saw none of that. Instead, I saw an insecure child trying to be included in things that are too big for her. When I mentioned this to someone they asked me if I read a lot of YA because "this is what YA heroines are like". I do, in fact, read a lot of YA and I can still say that Jude felt way younger than she was supposed to be. Comparing her to other YA heroines who are roughly the same age only strengthens this for me.

Let’s move on to Cardan. In the first half of the book, I wished someone would just punch him. When he was actually being punished later on I honestly didn’t feel bad for him. He treated Jude like shit, which, yes, I know, was the whole point but again, he did it in a very immature way. I’m thinking about the time he kicked dirt into Jude’s food or wanted her to kiss his feet. However, I later saw that this made sense for the character. He is insecure because of the way he grew up; isolated, lonely and faced with punishment. And in the second half of the book he was actually likeable as well. Cardan feels like the only character with actual depth. Where Jude had potential, Cardan had execution. However, Cardan and Jude’s immaturity made me uncomfortable as a reader sometimes. Mixed with the dry writing style, I could not help but imagine them as way younger than they were, all while they were making out and killing people or running around with a sword.

Madoc. Oh, Madoc. How I dislike this character. Nothing about him made sense to me. He is a huge hypocrite. What exactly is his motivation? Everything was justified by him being a "monster" by nature, but that just didn’t satisfy me. First of all, "monster" is a very subjective term. No one is ever truly evil, and I would have just wished that Madoc wasn’t so one-dimensional. It made reading the entire arc that involved him hard. And if he really is a monster, why was he so nice to Jude and Taryn? Maybe I missed it somewhere, but I am really not sure why he didn’t kill the twins on the spot when he saw them (it's not a spoiler, this is literally the prologue) and only took Vivienne, his actual daughter, back to Faerie. I suppose taking the twins was meant to show he actually has depth to him, but the repetitive "he’s a monster" with absolutely no evidence for that claim ruined it for me.

This is something which Black does quite often, by the way. She makes a claim about a character but then gives barely any or no evidence at all to support this claim and the reader is simply expected to believe her.

The Writing Style

So, a little background info about what I personally enjoy reading. I study English Literature, so I am faced with “pretentious” writing almost every day. It is just a personal preference, but it is what I generelly enjoy. For me, a book has to have a healthy combination of dry and lyrical writing, so it doesn't reach either purple prose or sahara territory. The Cruel Prince's writing style is very dry and straight to the point. This can work to increase tension during a dramatic scene, but using it throughout the entire book does exactly the opposite. Some people will still like that, which I can respect. However, for me it was just boring to read and, to repeat myself once more, it made Jude sound very immature. Why? I can’t say for sure. But what I know is that in writing, everything has an effect on the reader. The writing style, the scenery, hell, even the metre. The writing style in this book simply had this effect on me.

Another thing that I didn’t like was the several occasions of telling and not showing. Black mentioned three times in just a few pages that Jude and Cardan were enemies and they hate each. We got it, okay? There is no need to repeat it a million times. Perhaps she wanted to portray it as Jude telling herself they’re enemies and that she can’t pursue him, but it really did not seem that way to me and it unfortunately annoyed me.

Re-Readability

I think this a book you can definitely re-read if you liked it. It can be fun trying to look for clues within the narration that point to the big twists in the end. I personally just cannot put myself through this book again for all the reasons mentioned above.

Conclusion

I really cannot understand the hype of this book to be honest. Yes, the premise is interesting but the rest just does not do it for me and comparing it to other YA books, it felt incredibly immature to read. I am almost saddened to say that I regret spending almost ten euros on a copy of this, but what's done is done. I do, however, love the aesthetics of the book and will always stop to like a video of the wonderful cosplayers dressing up as the characters.

#the cruel prince #holly black #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #booktok #bookish #book reviews #book review #jude duarte #prince cardan

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mara-brekker · 1 year

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Hi!! Saw you asking for requests... could you please write an angst for Evan Peters' character in AHS Asylum Kit Walker x female reader w them in Briarcliff? If you don't do his characters, it can be an angst with Evan himself pls! thank u!!

Ur wish is my demand

A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved

Pairing: Kit Walker x fem!reader

Words: 1526

Warnings: angst, cigarettes (don’t smoke guys!), Dr Arthur is a warning himself, fake facts (more in an), mention of suicide

An: Suicide and scolioses are not contagious diseases! If u have suicidal thoughts please talk with someone about it <3 Crazy that they though scolioses is contagious!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

I was once again in the process of asking everyone possible for cigarettes. The guards already knew my behavior and only replied: "Get off, I have nothing for you!" They became really cheeky towards us. Suddenly the record player stopped playing the horrible song. It was a salvation for some, but quite the opposite for others. Like Pepper she was starting to lose her mind and I ran over to her. "Hey everything will be fine." I said calmly to her and she slowly came down again. Sister Mary, also known as Sister Devil by me, took care of the record player and quickly that annoying song had returned. Pepper hugged me gratefully and as she went back to what she had been doing before I looked around. Only a few other patients were a little upset. And as I looked around the crowd I noticed two beautiful brown eyes looking at me as well. He had to be the rebellious newbie as I've never seen him here before and I've been here for a number of years. So I went up to him to introduce myself. But while I was doing this, I noticed the fearful looks of my fellow patients. What did you have? When I stood in front of him and wanted to say something, he already interrupted me: "Finally someone who talks to me! What is this place and why is this nun looking at me like the devil himself?” he pointed to Sister Mary. I giggled to myself. "If you give me one of your cigarettes I'll answer your questions." He nodded hastily and handed me one."Ok listen.." I gave him a questionable look since I didn't know his name yet.

"Kit," he answered hastily.

"Listen, Kit, this nun," I smiled, "is Sister Mary, or how I call her Sister Devil. I think she was thinking of a satanic institution by the name of Briarcliff.” He looked at me sideways, but I just kept talking. “Briarcliff is a mental institution, as they would say among the genteel. People of all kinds are dropped off here. For example Pepper” I pointed to her “she is originally from a freak show and was then given to her sister after Peppers boyfriend died. She claimed that Pepper killed her child. However, I think it was her or her husband because Pepper loves babies.” Now I pointed to Lana, “This is Lana, she's a lesbian and that's Why she’s here.” I looked at him to see his reaction. Everyone I told that was mostly disgusted, how could such a thing even exist, they just said. But Kit remained silent and after half a minute he said: "It's not legal. It's not legal to have her locked up for something so natural.” I smiled sadly. "If I tell you why I'm here, will you also tell me why you're here?" He smiled but then said, "I'd love to make the deal, but I have no idea why I'm here."

"That's ok, I'm sure you'll remember it soon. Sister Jude puts you on a higher dose of drugs for the first few weeks than after, that can affect your memories.” Now that I took a closer look at him, I realized just how beautiful he actually was. Did he have a girlfriend out there or even a family.

"Have you been here long?" he asked me.

"Too long. You will probably think that you have been here too long than you should. But you won't know it's too long until you don't leave here. Because you know every patient, everyone is your family and this horrible place here is your home, Kit.” I didn't dare to look at him. My vision was now becoming glassy and I was about to cry terribly.

"Miss Y/N your kitchen duty is now ready to begin." Nurse Jude smiled at me.

“You Walker can follow her. Behave.”

"He won't slit my throat, Judy." I laughed at her, but she just looked back dejectedly.

On the way to the kitchen I said to Kit: "That was Sisters Jude, don't call her Judy." I laughed. "Why?" he asked. “Judy is a sadist. There will be whiplashes on your back or on your pretty butt if you do anything like that.”

"Where did I end up here?" he asked.

"In hell, Kit."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

In the kitchen I showed him our tasks and of course he asked more questions.

But when we were done with that, we left the kitchen and were greeted by a happy Dr. Arthur.

"Miss Y/N please follow me."

I looked at Kit and nodded towards the sitting room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

When I got to his operating room, I sat down on the couch.

“I gathered from a conversation between Sister Jude and Mary that you wanted to kill yourself before your Briarcliff time. I would like you to avoid direct contact with our patients, because I don't want any more deaths."

How many times have I heard in this life that this was contagious.

”may I go now?" I said, rolling my eyes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

In the morning I stood next to Kit outside of our cells.

"What did Dr. arthur wanted?”

"Talking about an infectious disease I'm supposed to have."

"Which?" he said as he looked down at me. And I hesitated.

We all walked to breakfast.

"I was admitted back then because I wanted to kill myself, Kit." I whispered to him. I didn't dare look at him anymore.

"Are you still having those thoughts?" he asked.

"Not as often as I used to." I noticed his eyes on me. I thought he was about to step away from me, but he took my hand in his.

"A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved," he whispered.

"I don't think it works that way." I laughed back.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

As is so often the case, our first meal of the day was interrupted by Dr. Arthur.

"Come with me Miss Y/N!" he almost yelled.

I quickly followed him and when he got to his operating room he said he wanted to examine me.

When he touched my back with his cold hands, he flinched and put on a mask.

"You have scoliosis, a highly contagious disease!" he finally shouted.

"I have to operate on her." He continued to speak more calmly. "I've only done this surgery once, but I'll be fine." He smiled creepily at me.

"What happened to that one person?"

"She is no longer alive. I have to be very precise and there are many things that can go wrong. In the worst case, you would die.”

All I could do was look at him in shock.

"Can I at least say goodbye to someone before they disassemble my back?"

"No way! But you can continue to eat your breakfast in the cell as long as I prepare the operation.”

As I walked out of the room, I purposely took the long way to our 'rooms' so I could get past the lounge. And then when I saw Kit seeing me looking for him, I nodded him to follow me. I slowly walked towards my cell as Kit caught up with me.

"What-" he asked but I cut him off.

"I have scoliosis Kit. Dr Arthur wants to operate me, he says the disease is highly contagious and that there is a slim chance I will survive.” We had now arrived at my cell.

"I don't know if I'll survive." I put my hands on his chest and looked up at him.

"It would be a shame if I died and didn't tell you I really like you Kit"

We've known each other for three weeks and I already said something like that?! But somehow it felt right.

"Kit say something he'll probably be right over to pick me up for the surgery. Please say something-"

But Kit said nothing and kissed me. As we broke apart, he began to speak.

"You will survive and I will wait for you. We're going to get out of here.” He said while his fingers made little circles on my hip.

"By the way, now I know why I was brought here Y/N" he started again.

"Y/N!" it yelled from the hallway. The doctor was done.

"Tell me if when I’m back." I whispered.

He nodded and kissed me again.

"I'm coming Doctor" I called as we broke away from each other.

And so I walked down the long corridor with the doctor who was about to perform a life-threatening operation on me.

And behind us a woman dressed in black was following us me.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Thanks for reading <3

#evan peters #kit walker #kit walker x reader #ahs #american horror story #asylum

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teenagemutantninjaskrtels · 2 years

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Hello! i saw your book blog asks bottom aren't showing :( was going to ask for tips on how to write eris or any gray character without accidentaly excusing them like sjm does to rhysand (I admit i havent read many books like this and i am well insecure about my writting)

I've closed it for a little while. I'm not an expert, but I would suggest with any writing, the more you read, the more you come across great pieces and also not so great pieces that help shape your own style.

With a morally grey character, I would first work out why they are morally grey. What is their motive/history? Is there a goal they want to achieve and will stop at nothing to achieve it? Or is it simply their character doesn't know the difference between right and wrong and feels little guilt with what they do. Don't just make them morally grey because it's sexy (which it is most the time lmao). I'd say most morally grey characters have a complex history that makes them that way. If you grow up surrounded by goodness and righteousness, there's little need to go into the darkness. Usually there is something traumatic that feeds into their personality.

My favourite morally grey characters are ones who get a little squeamish when they do the right thing.

Take Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows. Innocent boy thrust into a big city, trusts somebody, loses all his money, brother dies, goes through a massively traumatic incident that has impacted his every waking moment since - and is then hell-bent on revenge. Does he do a lot of bad stuff? Yes. Does he feel guilt over it? No. Why? Because he is determined on that path and seems unshakeable to remove himself from it. However, he is not completely bad. He doesn't seek to hurt just anybody he comes across; he always has his target in mind. But sure, if somebody became an obstacle, he'd have no issue in removing it. Take the way he behaves with Inej; calls her his investment, knows that hurts her to consider her as little more than a lavish spend, but does it to protect himself because he doesn't want to admit that he has feelings for Inej and she is more than an investment. (Close your eyes for spoilers - but by the end of the series, he's shifted that and even if he won't admit it, he's bought her a ship and brought her parents to Ketterdam because he knows it will bring her joy - and that doesn't benefit him in the slightest to lose her)

There are many book boyfriends who are "morally grey" - Wrath from Kingdom of the Wicked, Slade from the Plated Prisoner, Casteel from From Blood and Ash, people will say Rhys too. But it seems to me they just hurt people who dare speak against their love interest. Cardan Greenbriar from the Folk of the Air is one of my favourites because he falls into the trap of "crap, I have feelings so I'll disguise them with nastiness". He's cruel to Jude but if he acted on his feelings for her, it goes against the grain of what's expected of faeries. However, I don't feel like these are actually morally grey because they are only good to a select few and just tend to be bad as much as they can otherwise. In my opinion, the Darkling is not morally grey either. He wants power and doesn't care who he steps on. There's no goodness in him. His damn name is the Darkling.

If we take love out of it, for me, a morally grey character is somebody like Lorcan from Throne of Glass who knows he's probably not doing the right thing when he's hunting for Aelin, knows it will piss of Rowan, but he is duty bound to do it and that is the more important thing to him. That desire to fulfil his goal and please Maeve supersedes everything else.

If your morally grey character is motivated by achieving a goal then they hurt people in the process and don't apologise because their goal is what drives them. Or, if they do apologise, would likely do it again. However, it might be that internally, they do feel guilty, they do feel shame for hurting someone but their goal just matters that little bit more. I would amp up the internal conflict within them. The desire to do what's right vs what you want. (If you've watched Squid Game then I'm thinking Sang-Woo).

Morally grey characters:

use others to achieve their goal - this could be a way to generate that conflict "you used me!" yeah i told you i would, what's the issue

Lie so that others never know if they're being honest with them - and that feeds into the distrust

have flaws - Kaz is so dogged with his revenge that it rules him sometimes

believe what they do is right with little regret (azriel beating the crap out of eris in the high lord's meeting which in turn spooks mor but to azriel, he was doing the right thing defending her)

get their hands dirty even if it puts off other characters

get their hands dirty to benefit the people they care about e.g. wrath ripping out a tongue because they spoke against emilia

This might be controversial but I kind of wish sjm kept some of the things that rhys did UtM, including the winter court children because he was forced into that situation and had to keep up appearances for the sake of Velaris and the mask he was wearing. Would it be an absolutely horrendous thing to do? Yes. Do I think he would do it to protect the people he loves? Yes. Would he feel guilt? Absolutely. Which would make for a much more interesting character and change how his family perceive him. But then it got retconned away.

Morally grey characters are supposed to make you squirm. They have to do the morally bad things to be grey. Just hurting bad people is being the hero. There does need to be darkness. It's a spectrum; sometimes they're a little bit closer to the light. There needs to be moments when you think "no way have they done that".

There seems to be very few morally grey female characters that I can think of. Maybe Vanja from Little Thieves who commits crimes for revenge, hurts friends to meet her goals because otherwise it's her neck on the chopping board. Or maybe Sera from A Shadow in the Ember who is told she must kill Nyktos who she is slowly seducing whilst also falling for him too.

This was a very long ramble. Sorry.

Here's some links!

#writing advice

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fire-down-the-vine · 2 years

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Chapter 4😳

After this one I’ll either make an alt account for writing or start posting on my ao3 :)

——————————————————

I wake up with an annoying pain at the back of my head. I bring one hand up to rub my bleary eyes and another to run my fingers along the back of my head. I can feel a well-shaped bump sticking off of my scalp.

I must’ve gotten bashed into the wall harder than I thought

I stumble out of bed and out of my room, not bothering to get dressed. In the living room, my whole family’s gathered on our limited amount of furniture, watching the television intently. I wasn’t sure if any of them had even noticed me walking in. It’s Sunday, so my dad and brother are home, but my family never usually spends any kind of time together. Not even on Sundays.

“Jude, get in here!”

Lucian calls to me, eyes never lifting from the tv screen.

I kneel beside him on the floor. The news is on.

“The psycho broke out of that mental ward.”

“Huh?”

“The psycho.”

I still look at him, befuddled. I knew who the psycho was. Everyone around here knew about him. He was only mentioned on the news every other day. He was the leader of what seemed to have begun as a religious sect, until it made headlines as a dangerous cult. Some would even say a terrorist group. They’ve only made one public appearance: during a hostage situation at the Five Cornerstones of Mercy Church.

The leader and probably around three of the other members had hidden out in the church overnight. Short after the first service of the day had started, all entrances and exits were locked, and the preacher was threatened at gunpoint. Shots had been fired, but no one died. Just warning shots I s’pposed. Once the gun sounded, there were herds of people gathering around the church almost instantly to observe, including Lucian and I. By the time we got to the scene, the police had already arrived. About fifteen to twenty cops surrounded the building, pistols at ready, waiting for more shots so they could shoot their own.

When one cult member did show from the colossal mahogany doors of the front entrance, everyone could already identify him as the leader. He wore a hooded cloak the color deep scarlet red, that dragged down well past his feet. That’s how you could tell. The cloaks. The news reports I’d seen on the group had uncovered that the other members wore shorter, black cloaks, while the leader wore a more dramatic, red one. When he emerged from the church, he had the priest by his neck with a handgun to his head.

That was the first time I’d seen any one of the members in person. Every other time had been from shitty police sketches that were never even close to bringing the real thing justice. Aside from the cloak, a white mask covered his face, exposing nothing but two slivers of eye. The mask was plain, save for a thick red stripe that crossed over both of the eyes. He was dressed in a clean, white buttoned shirt paired with black slacks and blacker boots. He also had gloves on, I'd noticed. A dark, shiny, leathery looking material that shaped his hands tightly.

“Drop the gun!”

A sheriff called composedly, but loud enough for everyone around to hear.

The leader didn’t give a verbal response. He lifted the gun from the priest’s temple to instead aim at the police force that stood before him, though his hand seemed to tighten around the priest’s neck as the poor man let out a strangled gag, then a cough.

“DROP THE GUN!”

Another officer repeats, significantly less calm than the last.

The leader mumbled something, noticeably just for the ears of the priest. Then, a series of stifled choked and panicked noises came from the priest as streaks of crimson began to stream from his neck and over the gloved fingers of the other man, who had dug them even deeper into his throat.

“May Satan take your hands and lead you in the right direction, for this man’s god has corrupted your ways!

Let heresy into your minds and Lucifer into your hearts!

Give in! Give in!!

Fear not the Devil, for he is within you all!

PECCATUM VINCIT OMNIA!”

The man finally spoke then, each word more thundering than the last. His voice hadn’t been what I expected it to sound like. It wasn’t deep and menacing like it seemed like it’d be. It wasn’t high-pitched either, but it was young and scratchy sounding. He finished with three shots of his gun into the air. Not even a second after the third shot was fired, the sharp clicking of a taser could be heard. The man faltered once, then completely collapsed, the voltage causing the priest to go down with him. A small group of officers from the horde that stood wasted no time bolting up to the front of the church to drag his twitching body into a cop car.

We had heard on the news later on that week that they didn’t end up arresting him. That they threw him into the isolation unit at the Serenity Heights Mental Institution before any further investigation would take place instead. That was their first mistake, I think. Not throwing him in jail, or even identifying him at that.

“They only had him scheduled for a five day isolation, but when they went to get him last night, he was gone. What a joke these police are, yeah?!”

Lucian speaks again, though I hardly listen, as I tune myself into the news story that plays on the screen in front of us.

The same reporter lady is speaking of the same stories of havoc allegedly caused by the cult. There was no actual concrete evidence that connected the crimes to the group, but a pattern that had begun to show up in the mystery offenses led the news and law enforcement all over the state to point the blame at them. Supposedly, the cult only aimed its atrocities toward churches and known worshippers, and after the hostaging, that theory became backed up with more evidence than the news stations would ever need.

August, 1977- Mission Church of Life: graffitied inside and out in what was described as “satanic propaganda.”

February, 78’- Oasis of Refuge Church: breached and looted dry.

May, 78’- Monsignor Roosevelt of The Peace Harbor Church: stabbed in his own home. Suffered many wounds, but lived.

November, 78’- Mother Mary Ruth of the Serenity Heights Convent: supposedly strangled to death.

New Years, 79’- Sister Irena Ada of the same convent: kidnapped, and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.

And, October 1, 1979- The hostaging at The Five Cornerstones of Mercy.

Though, those were the only crimes documented.

“How long d’ya think he’s been out for?”

I ask, turning to Lucian

“Gotta’ be at least a couple uh days.”

I nod slowly, even though he’s not looking at me. I stand up, waltzing over to the kitchen, where my mom and sister have already broken away to.

“I don’t want either of you wandering off anywhere today, or the rest of this week. Come straight home from school tomorrow.”

My mom announces, and I scowl unnoticeably, opening the fridge to search for food.

I hear Helena slam her hands down on the table behind me.

“What about Lucian?”

She demands, irritation prevalent in her voice.

“Same rules for him too. It’s not safe right now.”

“But we’re not targets!”

“Yeah! We’re not Bible thumpin’ cucks!”

I blurt, earning a laugh from Helena.

“Jude Oliver!”

“Cucks! Freaks!”

I chant.

“Zip it, Jude! And it still isn’t safe, regardless.”

Our family wasn’t one for practicing any sort of religion. Sure, we had distant family that did, but not any of the five of us. There weren’t many families around here that were like us. The Five Cornerstones of Mercy was right in the middle of town, and known for being the biggest church in the general area. Meeting a non-religious family, or non-Christian for the most part, was unusual for most, and frowned upon by some.

“Jude! Door!”

Lucian calls from the living room, and I grumble quietly at the thought of company before I’d even gotten dressed for the day.

“One sec!”

I scurry down the hall to my bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks and fixing my hair at the very least.

“Who is it?”

I ask, sauntering back into the living room.

“Char-face.”

The door already sits half-open and I sliver through the space without opening it any more to see my friend Leslie on the other side, or, char-face. He was called that cuz’ of the burn marks that covered a lil more than half of his face and neck. There were more on the rest of his body, but they were smaller and less noticeable. He got caught in a brutal house fire from a gas leak when he was thirteen. His parents weren’t home, just him and his older brother. His brother had gotten out before the flames had become intense and unforgiving, and didn’t even look back for him.

“I had to crawl out through the bathroom window. I didn’t even get a chance to hit the ground before my vision went black. I was certain I had died. I woke up thinking I was in the afterlife er somethin’.”

He’d told me around the time we met.

“Older brothers are pieces of shit though, that’s just how they are. You’d know, Jude.”

I’d just nodded and laughed awkwardly. Sure, Lucian and I fought, but he’d never do anything like that. Leslie and I aren’t very alike. He’s obnoxious and giddy and kinda’ much sometimes. The main reason we ended up friends was cuz’ we’re both outcasts. Outcasts that’re known around town better as their distasteful nicknames given to them than their actual names.

“Judey-J.”

He greets me with a short nod.

“Hey, Leslie.”

I shuffle the rest of the way around the door until I’m standing on the cold concrete of our porch. I briefly forget how underdressed I am until I feel a chilly breeze pick up and blow through my trainer shorts.

“Look at this frog I found on your lawn.”

He outstretches his hand to reveal a small frog about the size of his palm. There was a generously sized creek near the small stretch of woods by our house, so it wasn’t uncommon to see a frog around every now and again. We’d lived in the same shabby house since I was three, and when I was a kid, sometimes I’d take them in from outside to try and get my parents to let me keep ‘em as pets, but it always just ended in my mom screaming like she’d seen a ghost. It was funny, so I kept doing it. I never understood why she was afraid of the frogs; I always thought they were cool.

“Cool,”

I smile.

I take the frog from Leslie and my hand instantly becomes slick and slimy, but not in a nasty way. I stand in silence for a few seconds, observing the small creature in my hand until Leslie speaks again.

“Can I come inside?”

I look back up to him.

“Yeah, sorry.”

I step back into the house, opening the door the rest of the way, leading him in behind me.

“What do you have?”

Helena asks, running up to me.

“Frog.”

I shove my hand wielding the frog in her face and make a croaking noise with my voice and she giggles.

“Put it outside, Jude!!”

My mom yells, eavesdropping from the other room.

“In a minute!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lynch!”

Leslie yells out in unison to me.

I turn back to him.

“Follow me.”

I saunter down the hallway to the first flimsy wooden door that leads to Lucian’s room, Leslie trailing behind me. I ever so slowly turn the knob to crack the door open only a few inches and release the frog onto his floor, shutting the door. Leslie seems like he’s about to speak, but is cut off by a near-shriek from behind the door. The door swings open and my brother bolts out. Leslie and I blurt out laughing and I’m met with a stinging smack to my back.

“YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T POUND YOUR FACE IN, YOU CHEAP STREET GIGOLO! GET THAT SHIT OUTTA’ MY ROOM!”

My laughing grows roudier at his choice of insult. I’m about to retrieve the frog, but it’s not there. I hear another genuine scream from behind me followed by Leslie’s laughter picking up again. I turn to his direction to see Lucian running out of the still open front door, Helena on his tracks with the missing frog in her hands.

“Is he kiddin’?”

Leslie asks, almost breathless.

“Not at all! He’s all tough till’ you show him any little thing with slime er scales.”

Lucian had to be the only person I’d ever know that’s more scared of frogs than my mom. He was deathly afraid. Not just frogs either. He hated lizards, snakes, even turtles to some extent. Though, somehow, he was completely fine with any kind of bug. He even had a pet tarantula in his room, which I despised. I hate spiders. I wasn’t super afraid of em’, but I didn’t like ‘em. A few years ago, our parents finally let me get a pet too after enough begging: an iguana that Helena and I shared. Her name was Stevie and we kept her downstairs. Lucian never stepped foot in the basement ever since, even now that he’s eighteen years old.

“You wanna head out back?”

Leslie speaks to me.

“Uh, yeah. Lemme get my shoes.”

“You outta’ put pants on too. Kinda chilly out.”

He snickers.

We sit beside each other on the step leading out of my back door. The sky is grey and dreary, and the woods ahead of my backyard are quiet and still aside from the calm sway of the trees in the wind. Seemed like it was about to rain. I took Leslie’s advice and pulled on a pair of jeans along with my sneakers, though the cold air still pricked my skin slightly through the denim. After a moment, we’re rambling back and forth in frivolous bursts of chatter, getting put off track by any distraction that comes about.

“Have you seen Ms. Robinson’s ass lately? It’s enormous. Bitch has been putting on some weight.”

“You look at Ms. Robinson’s ass a lot? You fuckin’ perv!”

I laugh

“It’s hard not to when I’ve been stuck with her for two years!”

Leslie got held back with me in year nine, which was another large factor in our friendship: even though we weren’t all that similar, we were both lazy fuckin’ idiots.

“Boutta’ be three years, ay?”

I snicker

“Shut yer blabber hole, Lynch.”

The wind starts to pick up a bit now. Just barely. I can see it more than I can feel it, watching the branches of the trees rock back and forth more than sway. I pull out my Winstons and am about to take a cigarette between my fingers before Leslie grabs my wrist. I look at him and he’s now digging through his own pockets. He comes up with a small plastic bag from one and rips it open, still gripping my wrist. From the bag, he pulls out a reefer and a lighter.

“Want some hash?”

He asks, offering it into my face.

I press my lips into a line, stirring in my own thoughts for a moment.

“Just a couple puffs.”

I finally respond.

Leslie smiles a bit and lights the end, setting it between his lips. He practically sucks the smog into his throat, barely pausing to exhale any back out.

“Holy hell, Lez. Calm it.”

I tease as he hands it to me.

I take a careful drag off the roll-up and blow the pungent smoke into the air, watching it disappear into the wind.

A couple puffs turn to a few as Leslie hands the reefer back to me for about the sixth time. I’ve let my body go lax as I take another inhale, then another, deeper one.

“And I’m the one that needs to calm it?”

“Screw off!”

I laugh too loudly, but Leslie laughs with me.

It’s well into the evening by the time Leslie leaves. The sky has gotten darker, and the wind grows angrier. I watch out of the picture window as leaves soar and power lines shiver in the current. A few small droplets begin to collect on the glass in front of me. I feel the sofa sink beside me and I turn around.

“You stink.”

Helena comments, scrunching her face.

“You stink.”

I retort, attempting to mimic her expression.

I begin to wonder if anyone else has noticed the funky stench from Leslie’s hash on me now. My mom had gone out for groceries and dad sat in the armchair across from us, eyes on the television. I couldn’t have smelt that strongly. If dad noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“You smell like skunk ass.”

Helena shoots me a knowing smile, pushing my shoulder.

“Get away from me then.”

I move to push her back, but end up falling onto the floor when she moves away.

“Jude, go shower.”

My dad speaks, never looking up from the tv.

I grumble, pushing myself from the floor. Before I can start my way to the bathroom, Helena kicks the back of my knee and I trip. I get one last dirty look at her over my shoulder before I’m shutting the bathroom door behind me.

I spend the short remainder of my evening in the shower, appreciating the feeling of the hot water running over my skin combined with the cool air that streams in through the small open window.

The rain comes down hard now, like daggers shooting from the clouds, and the sky is nearly black. It’s a punishing storm, but the tranquil rain smell that pours through the window was pleasant. When I finally step out, my high has mostly gone down. There’s still a slight fog that clouds my mind, but it isn’t enough to affect me anymore. I open the bathroom door and a bit of steam spills into the hallway as I trudge to my room. The house is quiet, nothing to be heard but the sound of rain plummeting onto the roof and the occasional boom of thunder. My parents have already gone to sleep by now. Lucian and Helena probably have too, as I don’t spot them in the living room anymore.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and flick on a light and move to rummage through my dresser drawers. There’s a faint sound at my window that makes my head shoot up. I can’t see anything ouT of it; the blinds are down. I dismiss it as some variety of debri in the wind hitting the glass. It happened often during bad storms like this one. Usually something that was swept off of the floor of the woods. I collect a pair of briefs and a t-shirt from my dresser and toss them onto my bed. I hear another noise at the window, this time in the form of frantic knocking. My whole body stops and my eye scans my room in search of something, I don’t know what. I grab a pillow off my bed and hold it tightly at my side.

If it’s an intruder, I’ll just suffocate them.

I shuffle to the window and poke my fingers through the blinds. It’s too dark out to see and the glare of the light from my room only makes it more impossible to identify anything. I reach for the blind chord and pull it down until the whole window is exposed and I see the outline of a person. I grip the pillow tighter and, against all instinct, unlock the window. I push it open, fully expecting to scream for Lucian, but I’m overtaken with relief.

Finn, completely soaked, staring back at me. His eyes go wide as they drop and then meet mine again, and I’m reminded of my indecent state; wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around my lower region. My face heats at the realization and I move my hands up my body awkwardly in attempt to cover up. It was silly trying though, I s’posed. It’s not like my torso was anything Finn hadn’t seen before.

“Can- can I come inside?”

He speaks almost inaudibly.

I tap my finger on the drywall and gnaw at my bottom lip nervously.

“Uh, yeah.”

I say just as softly.

I open the window the rest of the way and step a bit to the side. He climbs over the sill into my bedroom and a puddle of water already begins to form on the floor beneath him.

“Do you need a towel?”

I ask quietly, too aware of the possibility that my parents may wake up.

He looks down, nodding quickly. I tiptoe as best I can into the hallway. Once in the bathroom, I snatch an extra towel off of the rack by the tub, trying to make as little sound as humanly possible. I creep back into my room with the towel under my arm and toss it to Finn. I’m about to drop my own towel, but quickly pause, growing self conscious.

“Don’t look.”

I speak just a little above a whisper, turning around.

He doesn’t respond, but I no longer feel his eyes on me, so I go ahead with dressing myself. I let my damp towel fall to the floor and pull on the briefs and shirt from off my bed.

“Why’re you here?”

It sounds more like a demand than a genuine curiosity like I had meant it to be, and I immediately feel guilty when disappointment makes itself evident on Finn’s face. His hair is slightly damp instead of wet and messy from him toweling it off, and water no longer runs down his face, though his clothes are still sopping wet.

“I- uh,“ he pauses, looks to the floor, then back at me. “I’m sorry.”

“About last night.”

He adds

He steps closer to me and holds his hand out. My knife sits in his palm. I had nearly forgotten he even had it. I hesitate for a second, looking back up at him. His eyes never leave my face. I take it from him slowly. The room is all too silent as we sit and stare, watching each other.

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to get involved.”

I finally say, redirecting my gaze to the floor.

“No. I overreacted.”

Silence again. Finn takes a small step closer to me. So small it could barely even count as a step.

“I’m sorry.”

He repeats.

I don’t make any attempt to move away from him. I look back up now, setting the blade on my nightstand behind me.

“I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry too.”

I continue.

My eye trails back to his clothes.

“Do you want new clothes?”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“Well, you plan to stay, right?”

He looks away now.

“Can I?”

He asks softly.

“Yeah, man.”

I smile at his unwarranted embarrassment.

I move past him toward my closet in search of anything better than the cold, soggy sweater and jeans that he wore. I found it sorta difficult to find any clothing of mine that’d fit on Finn comfortably, cuz’ he had a decent amount of height on me. I came across my team sweatshirt for baseball that fit at least one size too big, and threw it out behind me for him to pick up. Finn may be taller than me, but I definitely had more build than him, being on our school’s baseball team for nearly five years; and, our team's best pitcher at that. Finn didn’t play any sports; he didn’t like ‘em, which came as a surprise to me when I first met him. Even if he didn’t have a lot of muscle, he was still very fit. Finn preferred music over sports. He played piano, violin, and guitar, and he somehow managed to play every one of those instruments nothing less than amazingly.

I went to all of his orchestra recitals and he went to all of my games, which was where we’ve been able to see each other the most outside of classes. His piano recitals were outside of the school though; in resplendent theaters or beautiful church chapels. Watching him play with the school orchestra was one thing, but listening to his talent, solo, echoing off of tall, embellished walls was something beyond extraordinary. I’ve only been to one of his piano recitals, cuz’ they’re farther away, and his dad usually attends. I shuffle to the side a bit to search through my dresser. I come up with a baggy pair of old sweats and turn around with them in my hands. Finn’s sweater and jeans are now in a wet pile on my floor and he wears the dry sweatshirt I handed off to him. I hand the pants over to him and he gladly takes them from me.

“Thanks, dude. You mean lots to me, y’know?”

He speaks, pulling on the pants that fit a little short on him.

“No worries.”

I smile.

“I’m gonna’ go get the cot from the basement. You can get settled in my bed.”

“Won’t you wake your parents?”

He made a good point. The creaking of our stairs could be heard throughout the house and probably even by our neighbors.

“You’re right.”

We’re both quiet for a beat.

“I’m fine taking the floor.”

Finn speaks up and I meet his eye contact.

“No. You’ve already come all this way in the pouring rain. Why would I make you sleep on the floor?”

He shrugs.

“I dunno. You’re kinda’ mean like that sometimes.”

He says with a grin and I bite back a smile.

“No I’m not. I’m a sweetheart.”

He scoffs, then it’s quiet again. It seemed like we had this conversation every time he stayed over. Over who got the bed, and who got the floor. Most times, Finn slept on our cot by my bed. There were some times where we both took the bed, but it always began with an argument beforehand until it came to that decision. We were fine with sleeping in the same bed, yet it seemed mandatory to act like we weren’t first.

“You could just take the other side of my bed. If you’re cool with that.”

I utter finally.

Finn’s eyes leave my face now.

“Are you cool with it?”

He asks just as quietly.

“Of course I am.”

I speak softly, giving a quick nod in attempt to reassure him.

I shuffle over to my bed and pull the sheets back, throwing myself onto the mattress. I scoot up against the wall and Finn takes the invitation to lie down next to me. I reach over him awkwardly to turn the lamp off and I receive a pinch at my armpit.

“Ow.”

I shove his arm away and he giggles.

“Asshole.”

I murmur, laying back down, pulling the sheets over both of us.

The room is dark and silent. I can’t see Finn anymore. I can’t see anything, but I know I’m facing him. Minute after minute goes by of nothing to be heard but the ever so quiet sound of our breathing and the patter of the rain.

“Jude?” Finn barely whispers “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

It goes quiet again. Another long minute almost passes, and I start to wonder if whether I was asleep or not was all he wanted to know.

“I don’t wanna’ go back home.”

He mutters softly, his voice shaky.

I reach out in the dark and touch what feels like his arm. I hear him take a deep breath in, then sniffle a bit letting it back out.

“My dad and I got into a fight before I snuck out.”

My hand reaches his wrist and I rub circles into the exposed skin with my thumb, attempting to soothe him.

“What happened?”

I urge him to continue.

“He wants me to go into training to be pastor next year. Once I’m seventeen. So that I can start once I'm eighteen.”

Sean Kovach had some sort of disgusting connections with the Five Cornerstones of Mercy Church, and this wasn’t the first time I’d heard of him pressuring Finn into working there with him. But pastor? At eighteen? That was practically no freedom for the rest of his adult life.

“You can leave before then, if you save up enough.”

Finn planned to move out right when he turned eighteen. He’d talked about it with me often. He planned to get a small apartment, and a career in the music industry.

“I’ll live in a van for a year. Maybe more, if I have to.”

He’d told me.

“He already has money invested in a creepy religious college out of town for me.”

His voice starts to break now. He’s frustrated. I can tell.

“Doesn’t matter if he invested.” I pause. “Don’t go.”

I hear him shift next to me. I can feel the presence of his face inches away from mine now.

“When I move out, would you come with me?” His voice gets quieter as he continues. “To help with expenses n’ stuff.”

“For sure, man.”

I smile, forgetting that he can’t see me.

I move my hand from his arm in search of something else and find the back of his neck. I realize now that he’s further down the bed than I thought he was. A few mostly dry curls brush against my hand and I follow them up to the back of his head where they tangle around my fingers. I run my fingers through the strands with surprising ease and I feel Finn sigh against my skin.

“That feels nice.”

He murmurs. I hum in response, repeating the action.

I hear him shift again and now I feel an arm sling around my back, the same soft hair my hand is occupied with now on my neck, and a chin rested on my shoulder. His body is almost flush against mine and comforting heat radiates off of it and onto me.

“Goodnight, JJ.”

He all but breathes. If he hadn’t been so close, I doubt I would’ve heard it.

“Night, Finny.”

#original work #original characters #get ready for a pov switch next chapter👁👁#also the title of this work is What Makes a Saint #I forgot I never mentioned that #oops #yes my protagonist is a chain smoker #thank you for noticing

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kudosmyhero · 2 years

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Batman (vol. 1) #437 – Year Three, pt. 2: Changes Made

Read Date: March 05, 2022 Cover Date: August 1989 ● Writer: Marv Wolfman ● Penciller: Pat Broderick ● Inker: John Beatty ● Colorist: Adrienne Roy ● Letterer: John Costanza ● Editor: Dennis O'Neil ◦ Dan Raspler ●

SYNOPSIS:

Just hit by a missile, the building containing mobsters and Batman, who tried to warn them, explodes. The helicopter that fired the missile flies away, it's occupants sure that "nothing could've survived in there".

Nightwing, searching for Batman, finds a bar he has recently ransacked looking for information on the gangland murders, beating one patron until he could no longer speak. He calls an ambulance, and getting the same information without threats, races to the same site Batman is at, where he finds the rubble of a destroyed building. He recovers a less than grateful Batman, who nearly calls him Robin, from the ruins who says he didn't need his help and claims he'd almost cleared the wreckage on his way to his way to a secret hideout before gruffly walking away.

Elsewhere, Alfred Pennyworth arrives home at Wayne Manor upset that the parole board is going to release Anthony Zucco, blaming himself for not swaying them with his speech. As he walks through a hall way, he apologizes to a photo of Bruce Wayne for allowing a killer to go free and not being there when Bruce needed him as a child like he was for Dick Grayson.

Alfred remembers back to picking up a young Grayson at St. Jude's Orphanage and assuaging Sister Mary Elizabeth's fears that Bruce would be a bad role model because of what's written about him in newspapers. On the drive home, Alfred tells Dick that Bruce was at Haly's Circus when his parents were killed, and explains that Bruce's parents were murdered also. When they arrive at the Manor, Bruce shows Dick around, and during the tour Dick compares their situations in an attempt to gauge when his hurting will stop.

Bruce asks him if he still wants Zucco dead like he did before, to which the young man replies that he doesn't, but he does want to do something to make sure he never hurts anyone again. Receptive, Bruce speaks about seeing the young man's great acrobatic skills and talks about training him. Over Alfred's protestations, Bruce opens the secret passage to the Batcave and the trio enter. On the way down the spiral steps, during which Grayson continually loses sight of Bruce, Alfred tells Grayson that Bruce is likely seeking "continuity", someone to carry on his legacy in case he dies. Through a blinding light, Bruce espouses on the city being corrupt, criminals going free, police being outnumbered and needing help. Asked if he wants to help, he says yes as he sees Bruce Wayne dressed as Batman for the first time and together they train harder than ever before.

In the present, Batman enters the Manor and stalks off into his study, ignoring Nightwing behind him. Alfred, however, talks to him and confirms that his behavior is becoming increasingly erratic and violent and he has taken down every photo of Jason Todd in the house.

Thinking back to better times, Grayson remembers receiving his first Robin costume and going out on his first "public appearance" taking down one of Zucco's front operations.

Grayson enters the study, intending to force Bruce to talk to him this time, only to find he is gone.

Moments later at a restaurant in another part of town, the surviving mob leaders meet to discuss the recent attacks on them. After bringing up and dismissing the idea that it's one of them setting up the kills, one of them suggests an all out assault on the streets, spilling blood to force whomever is doing it to surface. As the idea is discussed, Batman--until recently disguised as a waiter--reveals himself and offers yet another alternative.

Still in prison, Anthony Zucco rashes Taft about the recent parole. Taft tells him it's all set up, and all a matter of having the papers signed, and Zucco warns him that he's planned ten years on how to take over this city using his book with everyone's secrets and doesn't want to see it massed up by a civil servant slip up.

After Nightwing leaves the Batcave, Alfred contemplates how things are going wrong; with Bruce no longer being reasonable, Dick being angry and resentful, and Zucco somehow having gotten someone on the parole board to vote for his freedom--which he has yet to tell Dick. Taking a long look at a handgun laying on his bed, he decides someone has to stop Zucco, as he should never be freed.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman_Vol_1_437)

Fan Art: Nightwing by Haining-art

Accompanying Podcast: Everyone Loves the Drake - episode 02

https://thebatmanuniverse.net/episode-2-8/

#dc #dc comics #batman #batman year three #batman year 3 #comics #comic books #fan art #fanart #podcast recommendation #podcast rec #robin (tim drake)#robin #tim drake #dick grayson #nightwing #podcast – everyone loves the drake

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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 1 year

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Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 1 * PART 1 * BOOK 59 THE SEVEN JEWISH CHURCHES IN REVELATION REVELATION 1:1-10 We’re glad you’re all here, and we just appreciate the fact that you all bring your Bible, because believe it or not, this is what people notice. Wherever I teach, everybody has their own Bible. And that means you’re using the textbook. Okay, for those of you out in television now, we’re going to start in Revelation chapter 1 today. For those of you who are acquainted with my format, you know I skipped over the first 3 or 4 chapters for a purpose. As we were coming up through the Old Testament, and when we got to Daniel, then, of course, Daniel and Revelation just fit together like a hand in a glove. I was so uncomfortable with the traditional view of the first three or four chapters that I just passed over it. I just didn’t feel that I was ready to agree to the traditional view of these chapters, and so rather than teach amiss, I just skipped over it. But, in these intervening years, I have now become comfortable with something that is not traditional and, of course, a lot of my teaching isn’t necessarily traditional. But, I always have to come back to the Apostle Paul and what does Paul say about tradition? Just about in every case, we find it’s not much good. So, traditionally, we know that these letters to the seven Jewish Churches are pushed into the Grace Age and seemingly trying to make them Body of Christ congregations, which they are not. Then they projected out skillfully how that each one of these letters was supposed to cover a particular period of church history leading from the time of Pentecost all the way up to the Tribulation. But, when you study these letters and read them carefully as I had done even before I decided to skip over them, there is not one word of what we would call Church language in these letters. It’s just not in there. John says not one word of anything that’s beyond what he had already expressed in the gospel of John, or in his little epistles. And, so, if I had my timeline on the board, and I was going to do it before we went on the air, but if I had had my timeline on the board and if you care to draw it yourself, just make one line straight across the top and that’s coming out of the Old Testament. Nothing has changed. The four gospels are just an extension of the Old Testament. These were promises made to the fathers, and of course Israel rejected it. He comes back in the Book of Acts and still pleads with Israel to repent of the fact that they had crucified their promised Messiah, but Israel refuses to believe it. But they don’t know that God is going to stop the time clock. And, so far as all these writers, the four gospel writers, Luke, the Book of Acts, and then again when you jump into James, Peter, John, Jude, and John writing Revelation, they are all still on that top line of Old Testament prophecies, in which there is not one smidgeon of understanding of the Church Age in their writings. So, for our vantage point, of course, we usually draw the second line, and then we show that God opened up His timeline, stopped the time clock on Israel and went into the Church Age where we have been now for 1900 and something years, and to which we go to the Apostle Paul and the Church letters, Romans through Philemon, for salvation and all Body of Christ doctrines. For example, Paul’s writings are the only place you can find in Scripture that tells us that for salvation we must believe in our heart that Jesus died for our sins, was buried, and rose again. (I Corinthians 15:1-4) And, so, I’ve come to the conclusion, now, that all these Jewish writers were looking forward to the fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies, which included His first coming, and then His rejection and then Pentecost and then was to come the wrath and vexation - the seven years of Tribulation. Then was to come the Second Coming, the establishment of the Kingdom, and Israel would be the top dog of the nations.

Well, that was all back in the Old Testament prophesies. But, unbeknown to Old Testament prophecies, God stopped the time clock after the first advent even though Peter and James and John are still looking forward to everything unfolding, because they don’t know that He had done that. God, in His wisdom, has made the overtures to bring about the Apostle Paul and the Age of Grace, which means the time clock had to stop. Now, I suppose the best place to show that is in Luke chapter 4. Here we go again - you know, I’ll never forget years ago, Monty used to sit on the front row when we were in the old studio, and I’d do this and I’d say, "Well we’re going to start in Revelation," and quietly he’d say, "You want to bet?" So, he knew me. So, before we start Revelation we’ll jump back a minute to Luke 4, because I always like to establish that we’re not using human thinking to do what we’re doing. Because the Lord Jesus in His earthly ministry gave us an indication that indeed that prophetic timeline was going to be stopped. It was going to be interrupted and rather than go on into the Tribulation and the Second Coming and so forth, God was going to allow Paul to become the Apostle for the Church Age which has now been going on for over 1900 years, and Jesus makes it very clear, known as the Creator of everything, exactly what’s going to happen. He knew the prophetic timeline was going to stop. I use this as my backup to doing what we do, by opening up the timeline. Luke 4:16 "And he (Jesus) came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up: and as his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the Sabbath Day, and stood up for to read." Now, everywhere I go, I emphasize that when Jesus was here on earth in those three years of earthly ministry, everything He said and did was under the Law. The temple is operating full speed and He never told any Jew to stop temple worship. He never told any of His followers to stop keeping the Law. But, quite the opposite, He told them to keep the Commandments – to keep the Law. He healed the lepers and what did He tell them? Go show the priests according to the Law. Now, you see, most of Christendom ignores that, and that’s why I say it’s almost an exercise in futility to spend all their time in the four gospels, preaching and teaching what Jesus said under the Law. And, once you realize it, it’s almost ridiculous, because we’re not under the Law. We’re under Grace. But, nevertheless, here is Jesus in full accord with the Law, He’s in the synagogue on the Sabbath Day, Saturday Sabbath, right? Luke 4:17 "And there was delivered unto Him the prophet Isaiah. And when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written;" Now, what does that tell you? He knew exactly what portion He wanted to read to that synagogue congregation. So, He found it in the scroll. Now, it’s not a book like this, they were scrolls. So, He unrolls the scroll until He gets to Isaiah 61 starting with verse 1, and this is what it says: Luke 4:18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, (in other words a reference to His miracles,) to set at liberty them that are bruised." This is a reference of course to setting free the Old Testament believers who had been held captive in Hades until the atoning blood would be shed. All right, so all these things He’s referring to are all part and parcel of His first advent. Luke 4:19-21 "To preach the acceptable year of the Lord. 20. And he closed the book, and he gave it again to the minister, and sat down And the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him. 21. And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears." In other words, everything He’d taken from that verse up to that point was now fulfilled with His first coming. Now, go back to Isaiah 61 and we’ll read at least part of what He referred to here in Luke chapter 4.

You’ve got to see this with your own eyes to appreciate it. And we’ll take the time, I wasn’t going to, but we’ll take the time. We’ll just re-read it. Isaiah 61:1-2a "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives (see it’s almost word for word) and the opening of the prisons to those that are bound; 2. To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD,…" Now, that’s where He stopped. But, now, in Isaiah where is that in the context? The middle of the verse - He stopped in the middle of the verse and said this has been fulfilled. And those synagogue people knew what He had done. And they were aghast. But why did He stop where He stopped? He knew the rest wasn’t going to take place –His time clock was going to stop. Well, read on: Isaiah 61:2b "…the day of vengeance of our God;…" Which is what? Tribulation. He couldn’t read on and then say this has been fulfilled. It hasn’t been fulfilled even yet today. It will be, but He stopped short. Then, after the Tribulation in this same prophecy, what would come next? Isaiah 61:2c "…to comfort all that mourn;" And when will that happen? In the Kingdom. And so Jesus knew that His timeline of prophecy of the Old Testament promises to the Father would be interrupted at the end of His first advent, and we would not see the continuation of it till sometime in the future. But, you see, even His followers didn’t know how far into the future that would be, whether it would be five years or ten years or forty years, and so, consequently, those men all wrote with the understanding that everything would be fulfilled in their lifetime. All those prophesies of Psalms chapter 2. Now, by sake of comparison, we’ve done this a long time ago in our study in Acts, but that’s so long ago we’ll go back and look at how Peter handled the same kind of prophecy. Now, come with me back to Acts chapter 2 and we’ll see the difference between the Creator God’s knowledge of the future and the Apostle Peter. Peter had no concept of anything but the Old Testament prophetic program. Here in Acts chapter 2, Peter is doing the same thing as Jesus did. He’s quoting from an Old Testament prophecy. This is Peter speaking to this great crowd of Jews gathered for the feast of Pentecost. Acts 2:16-21 "But this is that which was spoken by the prophet Joel; (now he quotes Joel and we’ll go back and look at it in a moment) 17. And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: 18. And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy: (well that had already happened and was happening, but then Peter goes right on and quotes from Joel) 19. And I will shew wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath; blood, and fire, vapour of smoke: 20. The sun turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before that great and notable day of the Lord come: 21. And it shall come to pass, (which is now our reference to the Kingdom Age) that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved." Did any of that happen? Well, of course not. But, did Peter know it wouldn’t? No. Peter was under the impression that all of this was still coming. Now, go back and see how completely Peter follows Joel’s prophecy. Now, if you have trouble finding that, that’s right after Daniel and then Hosea and then Joel and it’s in chapter 2, starting at verse 28. And, now, you’ll see it’s word for word. Peter was quoting word for word. Joel 2:28-32 "It shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions: 29. And also upon the servants and handmaids in those days I will pour out my spirit.

(and then the prophecy goes right on) 30. I will shew wonders in the heavens and in the earth, blood, and fire, pillars of smoke. 31. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and the terrible day of the LORD come.(which of course is the final 3 ½ years of the 7 years of Tribulation) 32. And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the LORD shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be delivered, as the LORD hath said, and in the remnant whom the LORD shall call." All right, another one I like to use in that same vein, is just back up to Psalms chapter 2, which you’ve always heard me referred to as "The Outline of The Old Testament Program." It’s so clearly laid right out - Christ’s first advent, His rejection, the wrath and vexation, or what we call the Tribulation, and then the Kingdom; that glorious Kingdom on earth, which has been promised ever since you might say, Abraham, and especially from David on. And here again, we’ve just got to take every word. Psalms 2:1-6 "Why do the heathen (the non-Jewish world) rage, (that is in their anti-God understanding. They just can’t see God having anything to do with the rule of the planet) and the people(even Israel) imagine a vain thing? 2. The kings of the earth (that is of the Gentile world) set themselves, and the rulers (that is of Israel. The religious rulers) take counsel (what’s the next word?) together, (it wasn’t just the Jew, it wasn’t just the Romans, they worked in counsel as the prophet said they would) against the LORD, (that is against the Messiah, against Jesus of Nazareth, and in so many words said,) and against his anointed, saying, 3. Let us break their (the plurality of the God head.) bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. (We’re not going to let God rule in the affairs of men. Then look at the response of God in heaven. He’s going to laugh at their foolishness, their ignorance) 4. He that sitteth in heavens shall laugh, the LORD (God the Son) shall have them in derision. 5. Then (now this is after His rejection and crucifixion and ascension of course) then shall he speak unto them (that is the nation of Israel as well as the rest of the world, as we’re going to see as we get further into the Book of Revelation) in his wrath, (not in His love and mercy – wrath) and vex them in his sore displeasure. (But, what follows? The Kingdom) 6. Yet have I set my king (which is the King of Kings) upon my holy hill of Zion." Well, why does the Psalmist specify Zion? Because we know from all other promises, Christ is going to rule on David’s throne and where was David’s throne? Mt. Zion. So, it all fits. So, the Psalmist is prophesying not only His rejection, not only the horrors and wrath of the Tribulation, but it’s followed by the Kingdom when Christ will rule from Mt. Zion. Well, all of that is sufficient now, then, to show, as we go into Revelation, come back with me, that we’re going to emphasize that this whole Book of Revelation is Jewish – there’s nothing Gentile in here except as the Gentiles come under the wrath and vexation as the overflow from dealing with Israel. Now, that’s always my answer when people say, "Isn’t America in prophecy?" No, you can’t find America in prophecy, because America never had any consort with the nation of Israel in antiquity. The only Gentiles you’ll find listed in Scripture are the nations that had a direct contact with the nation of Israel back in Israel’s history. So, consequently, yes, you have all the Middle Eastern people: you have the Greeks and the Romans, but when it comes to the new world, they had nothing to do with the old ancient nation of Israel. So, consequently, America cannot be included in prophecy. All right, so now then if you’ll come back with me to the Book of Revelation, we’ll spend the last few minutes introduction here. This is also like James and Peter and John and Jude, Revelation is just another Jewish book getting the

nation of Israel prepared for the horrors of those tribulation years that were in front of them. The horrors of which will make the holocaust look like a Sunday School picnic. Israel is getting ready to face those kinds of trials and testings. And so John, who writes the Book of Revelation, is the same John who wrote the Gospel of John; he’s the one who wrote the little epistles that we’ve studied, and now it says in verse 1: Revelation 1:1a "The Revelation…" Or the word I like better is a revealing. Now, we know that all of this has been back in your Old Testament, but it’s been veiled. It’s just like a sculpture in the park that on the day of dedication they pull the canvas off, and that sculpture is finally revealed, and we call it an "unveiling." Well, that’s what the book of Revelation is. Everything that’s in here has been alluded to back in the Old Testament especially Daniel – Daniel and Revelation, like I’ve already said, fit together like a hand and glove, but it isn’t till we get here that we have a complete unveiling of this Second Coming of Christ. Revelation 1:1a "The Revelation (or the revealing) of Jesus Christ, which God gave to him, to shew unto his servants things which must shortly (or quickly, or swiftly, if you want to go back and look up the Greek a little bit,) come to pass;…" All right, now let’s see how Paul also agrees with that. Come back with me to Thessalonians, and Paul is not an Old Testament prophet by any stretch, but on the other hand, he will say things that are in full accord with it. So, join me now in I Thessalonians, chapter 5 verse 1. Now, in the preceding verses in chapter 4, and we might as well look at it first, we have Paul’s revealing the Rapture of the Church. - The out-calling of the Body of Christ which you and I are apart of. This is how the Church Age will end, and none of this is in prophecy - none of it! This has only been revealed to the Apostle of the Gentiles. I Thessalonians 4:13-14a "I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, (who have died) that you sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. 14. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,…" Now, what’s that? Hey, that’s Paul’s Gospel of salvation, which he refers to over and over as My Gospel, that Gospel which I preached to the Gentiles. The Gospel of salvation I Corinthians 15:1-4, that we all must believe for salvation. I Thessalonians 4:14b "…if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep (or have died) in Jesus, God will bring with him." In other words, when He descends from heaven, He will bring the soul and spirit of the departed believer with Him to be reunited with that resurrected body. I Thessalonians 4:15-18 "For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent (or go ahead) of them which are asleep. 16. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump (singular) of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: (to be reunited with that soul and spirit that Christ has brought back from glory) 17. Then we which are alive and remain (hey, that’s us as believers) shall be caught up (Raptured in the Latin Vulgate – we shall be Raptured) together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we (believers) ever be with the Lord. 18. Wherefore comfort one another with these words." Now, I think it’s interesting that Paul includes the first person. I think Paul actually thought he, too, would experience this until he realized that he would die the martyr’s death. So, he uses the first person pronoun. Now, drop into verse 1 of chapter 5. Now we’re talking about those that are left behind. They’ve missed the Rapture, because they have not believed Paul’s Gospel for their salvation. I Thessalonians 5:1-3 "But of the times and seasons, brethren, you have no need that I write unto you.

2. For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord (that’s the Tribulation) cometh as thief in the night. 3. For when they (the left behind part of humanity, whether it’s Jew or Gentile, black or white, makes no difference) shall say peace and safety; then (what?) sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape." All right, go briefly back to Revelation chapter 1 verse 1, now what does he say? Revelation 1:1 "The Revelation (or the revealing, or the unveiling) of Jesus Christ which God gave to him, to show unto his servants (now he’s writing to believing Jew, not Gentiles; to believing Jews who had been scattered out of Jerusalem) things which must shortly (or swiftly, or instantly start happening) and he sent and signified it by his angel to his servant John:" So, when we see this word servant here, we’re referring to Jewish believers. John himself is a Jewish believer, he’s writing in turn to these other Jewish believers as we’ve seen in the last little epistles of James, and Peter and John. So, bear that in mind as we move on into Revelations in the verses to come.

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bowlerhatwearer · 2 years

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When Weregeld went to confront the Surgeon. Was it a heated discussion? or more of an argument?

(TW: Suicide Mention)

Greetings Anon

Oh it was definitely an, very heated argument.

I am not sure, what it started, but, at this point the Surgeon was not doing too good anymore, and may have made a, incidental remark that caused Weregeld to get angry.

The argument happened in the canteen, with a lot of people to witness, I, don't know why the Surgeon was here exactly, but he was present.

Weregeld told him his opinion, perhaps a bit angry, but honest and genuine, with facts and logic.

The Surgeon, put in a corner retorted by using an ad hominem, one that shocked many, attacking the chamois directly and using his suicide attempt as a reason, why he, the Surgeon does not have to listen to the lawyer.

Which causes Weregeld Schein to get, really angry, shouting at the Surgeon.

"It takes one to know one!"

Before the Surgeon could say anything, Weregeld continues by saying that when he nearly died, at least he bled, because that showed he is alive and has feelings, unlike him who is nothing more than a cold and uncaring machine!

And then things take a turn from bad to worse.

The Surgeon raises his voice, saying that he does not have to take that from him or anyone else.

He shouts how he knows that he is himself, that he has been a member of the Wrath, since the beginning, his membership number is in the first digit! He was there, before Weregeld even knew who the Wrath was!

Without noticing it himself, the Surgeon takes a few knifes of the cutlery box, who slowly point at Weregeld.

The volume of his voice increases, shouting at the chamois, people telling the Surgeon to calm down but he ignores it.

He IS Dr.Lis Polarny , one of the highest regarded Neurosurgeons in Mayberry...perhaps even in the whole world, maybe he should show that to Weregeld, and he-

That's when he Surgeon stops, because, once again, he sees around him, in his vision...the bear.

Failing to notice how the knives, point now at himself.

And he...

he-

-KILLED JUDE VALENTINE!

Screaming that out loud, the Surgeon has a complete breakdown, his screen glitching and all of his systems overheating, Weregeld grabs him, but has to release his hands, or else he would have burned them on the hot metal.

And then, the Surgeon shuts down, the knives drop on the floor before he could harm someone or himself, he is not death but, temporarily shut down from overheating his system, falling on the canteen floor.

It's over, and the argument of the two has come to an end...

Yours sincerely

Bowler

#Roadkillerz #Jude Valentine #RKZ #TW: Suicide Mention #Roadkillerz OC #RKZ OC #Weregeld Schein RKZ #The Surgeon RKZ #Lis Polarny RKZ #Ask #Anonymous #Anon

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padawanlost · 3 years

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So I was on Quora the other day, and someone speculated that insecurity was at the root of Anakin's arrogance and apparent cockiness. I thought this through and it makes so much sense. He felt insecure in his place as a Jedi and had this constant need to prove himself. What's your take?

Personally, I’ve never seen Anakin as arrogant. I think he was *perceived* as arrogant by the people around him but, internally, Anakin was also driven by insecurity (not egotism).

Because he was so insecure in a place where he knew he wasn’t accepted as he was, he overcompensated. It’s a very common behavior: I’ll try harder to prove myself. And because he was so powerful, his attempt to prove himself worthy was viewed as an attempt to show off.

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn. And they stopped him training the Chosen One. Qui-Gon hadn’t cared what the Jedi Council said. He’d trained him anyway, a Padawan in all but name. Why am I thinking of all this now? Haven’t I put it behind me? Haven’t I had enough bad memories since then to take their place? Haven’t I vindicated Master Qui-Gon? [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

Anakin enjoyed praise from Obi-Wan, but often became sullen when he was reprimanded. Obi-Wan assured him that he himself had been frequently reminded by Qui-Gon to be more mindful of the Force, but somehow even the slightest criticism managed to leave Anakin feeling stung. First they tell me to do my best, then they tell me I’ve gone too far! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

Because Anakin had not been trained since infancy at the Temple like nearly all other Padawans, various Jedi Masters accepted the fact that he lacked the discipline of his fellow students. They were less accepting, however, of his arrogant behavior when he demonstrated his abilities. I’m more powerful with the Force than some of my instructors, Anakin thought, and they know it! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

Despite Anakin’s desire to distance himself from the slave he had once been, he was unable, or unwilling, to shed the other aspects that had defined him on Tatooine. He still dreamed of glory, still craved adventure, and never lost his appetite for high-speed thrills and the desire to prove himself in competition. THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

What evidence to we truly have that Anakin was arrogance beyond people calling him that? And considering most of his peers and superiors didn’t take much time to get to truly know him, I’d say their option can be considered biased:

Anakin was liked by the other students, but he had no close friends. He was not loved. Obi-Wan told himself that Anakin’s gifts naturally set him apart. But in his heart, he grieved for Anakin’s loneliness. JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE WAY OF THE APPRENTICE]

Just when Anakin thought he’d passed that elusive finishing line that said adult, experienced, seen it all, he realized he was still twenty, Jedi or not, and the wounded boy in him still rose to the surface—provoked into angry violence, scared of abandonment, and still in need of approval. KAREN TRAVISS [STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS NOVELIZATION]

[Obi-Wan] knew, glancing at his Padawan’s eager face, that Anakin meant well from the bottom of his heart. If Obi-Wan saw a shadow on that heart, he knew it would pain his Padawan to know it. In many ways, Anakin was still a boy. A wounded, loving, anxious boy with great gifts he did not fully understand. Yet he was also a young man, close to maturity, who could do great harm. To others, yes. To himself, most of all JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]

“I just…” Anakin stopped. He took a ragged breath. “I thought you would be proud of me.” I am proud of you. Obi-Wan wanted to say the words. They were true. He was proud of so much in Anakin. But now was not the time to tell him that. Or was it? JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]

Fixing broken machines was like a meditation. Fixing broken machines was an antidote to every pain, every loss, every fear, every defeat. Fixing broken machines kept him from going mad. CLONE WARS GAMBIT: STEALTH

This doesn’t sound like some who thinks that highly of himself.

“Master…,” he said hesitantly, “I know I’ve… disappointed you in these past few days. I have been arrogant. I have… not been very appreciative of your training, and what’s worse, of your friendship. I offer no excuse, Master. My frustration with the Council… I know that none of it is your fault, and I apologize. For all of it. Your friendship means everything to me.”

Interestingly enough, Obi-wan says it best:

You are very observant, Ferus, but you must accept that I know him better than you,” Obi-Wan said carefully. “Anakin can be arrogant. I know that. But he is also learning and growing. He is respectful of his great power. He does not abuse it. He is younger than you, but he has seen much injustice, many terrible things. I do not think it so wrong that he wants to change things. You must understand that it isn’t ambition that drives him. It is compassion. OBI-WAN KENOBI IN STAR WARS – JEDI QUEST: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD BY JUDE WATSON

Yes. Anakin can act arrogantly. We all can. It’s part of being human and flawed. but that doesn’t mean that was ALL Anakin was. More often than not, Anakin was motivated by fear, love, kindess and, yes, even hate.

Taking them, she looked up at him and shook her head, even though it still ached. “It’s odd. You’re nothing like I expected.” “Why?” he said, perching on the edge of the nearby chair. “What did you expect?” “I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” That made him smile. “As opposed to what?” She swallowed the pain-tabs, washing them down with a mouthful of water. “Oh. You know. The HoloNet news—it portrays as you as this—this—heroic warrior. Larger than life. Charging into battle, lightsaber flashing. Scourge of the Separatists. That kind of thing.” She shrugged. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Because of Hayden’s Anakin being do disliked and, of course, because of the TCW wonky characterization everyday we are seeing more and more people embracing the idea of arrogant idiot Anakin. even if such characterization is not supported by the movies, the lore and basic common sense.

People use Obi-wan’s words in AOTC against Anakin but the truth is, as shown above, Obi-wan himself later recognizes that Anakin is not arrogant (even if he sometimes act that away). Besides, using AOTC to show Anakin’s arrogance doesn’t make much sense because of Hayden’s acting. Anakin doesn’t act like some arrogant prick for most of the movie. if anything, AOTC is a great of example of Anakin’s submissive and insecure behavior.

At last, let’s not forget that the same people calling Anakin arrogant were also facing the same criticism:

“But he still has much to learn, Master,” Obi-Wan explained. “His skills have made him … well, arrogant.” “Yes, yes,” Yoda agreed. “It’s a flaw more and more common among Jedi. Too sure of themselves, they are. Even the older, more experienced Jedi.” [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]

People seem to forget that Anakin was in his early 20s when he ‘died’. Show me a teenager or a young adult who’ve never acted arrogantly and i’ll show you a liar. So why is Anakin the only one getting shit for that?

So, yeah, i agree. Anakin wasn’t motivated by arrogance. He was motivated by fear and insecurity, byproducts of his childhood trauma and years of grooming and emotional neglect.

#ask #englishlady #anakin skywalker #sw meta #meta: anakin #txt

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court-of-forever-undone · 3 years

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My Sister’s Love | Taryn POV

Chapter Three

Summary: Taryn pieces together her memories of Cardan and Jude’s early interactions as she reflects on how their relationship came to be and the events of the last year. As happy as she is for them, she can’t help but feel jealous of the moments they share.

Tags: Taryn’s POV of Jude x Cardan, Final Part

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After that dinner, we found Jude awake in her old rooms sitting with Tatterfell and Oak. For a moment, it was easy to pretend nothing had happened. She wore one of the black gowns she favored since becoming seneschal and was eating from a tray in front of her. But as she turned to face us, the wince she failed to hide and the paleness of her skin were reminders that she had nearly died just days ago. Her hair had been braided to mimic a crown, which was another reminder that my sister was not the same twin I had known.

Before we had a chance to talk, Cardan appeared. He likely came straight from his rooms, after finding them empty. Every fiber of my being wanted to grab Jude’s arm when Cardan asked her to join him, but I saw the dusting of pink spread across her cheeks as she saw him in the doorway, so I stood there silently. Jude would have probably ignored any word of caution coming from me anyways. We still had yet to fully come to terms with everything that happened between us.

When it had been hours and Jude had yet to return, I went to the royal chambers to see if she had gone straight there, but instead, I found Garrett.

While Jude had at least recovered some from her near-death experience, Garrett looked like the ghost of the beautiful sandy-haired boy I had met before. It might have been a funny observation given his code name, but all humor was lost in the moment. He had lost weight and his face had sunken in. When our eyes met, I saw the plea in them before he opened his mouth.

The next few hours were a blur. When Jude finally arrived at Hollow Hall, I was surprised to see she had allowed Cardan to come along. Cardan had proved he would follow my sister into the heart of an enemy war camp, despite better judgment, but this time Jude had chosen to invite him along with her.

After I commanded Garrett to stop, cursing myself for not thinking to do it earlier, we moved to a parlor room and I explained how we had come to know each other through Locke’s carelessness.

We discussed the events of what Garrett had done at Locke and Madoc’s command. It turned out that Garrett had been the one to shoot Queen Orglah. Even if he had been commanded to do it, Nicasia and the seafolk would see him as a traitor and demand that he be punished, which meant his life was entirely at the mercy of Jude and Cardan. I couldn’t help but see the resemblance to my own situation.

When Cardan made a comment about me lurking around the palace, I revealed that I had no intention of going anywhere until I knew that Jude would be safe. Our relationship may be strained, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make up for my actions.

Cardan wore an expression that showed he was tired of this conversation. “Jude and I had a misunderstanding. But we’re not enemies. And I am not your enemy, either, Taryn.”

As a faerie, I knew he couldn’t lie, but that didn’t matter. Maybe he didn’t think of us as enemies, he could still think of us as toys.

“But you think everything’s a game. You and Locke.” His name tasted like ash in my mouth.

“Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game. You may accuse me of much, but not that.” Cardan shared softly.

The air in the room shifted as Cardan's gaze fell upon Jude, who refused to even look in his direction before quickly changing the subject.

For the first time, it was not just me who was drawing a comparison between our loves. While Cardan’s words came out more as a confession to Jude than a taunt at me, the words still stung. Locke had thought love to be a game. But Cardan, the cruel, spoiled prince did not think love was a game.

How had I believed Locke was my future?

In the carriage back to the palace, Cardan broke the silence by asking about some of the things he had seen on his way to Vivi’s apartment. Most of his questions were about the dishwasher which had been running in the apartment, how mortal mailboxes worked, how secure they were in protecting incoming mail, and what slushies tasted like.

By the end of the ride, I couldn’t help but laugh at his questions which seemed so trivial given the circumstances we all found ourselves in. When we were alone I turned to Jude, who was barely awake on her feet.

“Do you trust him?” I asked. It was the question that had been gnawing at me since our return.

Jude thought for a moment before sighing. “Sometimes,” she responded.

It was enough to make me warn her. Did I think Cardan loved her? Yes. But was Cardan trustworthy? It was hard to forget the years of our childhood together that suggested otherwise and if Jude who had gotten to know him closer than any of the rest of us questioned it, then it was probably best not to.

I had been blinded by my love for Locke that I trusted him to take care of me. I didn’t want the same to happen to Jude, even if seeing them care for each other made my heart ache with envy.

____________________________________________________________

In the days leading up to Madoc’s arrival, all of Elfhame seemed to be on alert; waiting for something to happen. Whispers that bordered on treason could be heard on the grounds and it seemed that everyone had begun placing bets on the outcome of the meeting. It seemed that many of the Folk had questions around the legitimacy of a human queen and the chance the High King’s army stood against a Redcap led army.

Madoc would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Vivi, Jude, and I all knew that. I did not have to attend strategy meetings to know they were facing a serious threat.

Amidst the preparations for possible battle, the whole castle seemed to note the change in the High King and Queen’s dynamic. For one, their marriage was now common knowledge, but more than that there was a closeness between them that had never been there before.

At first, it was not-so-secret handholding and shared looks at mealtimes. Once at dinner, Cardan made a joke about the dangers of in-laws and Jude rolled her eyes before letting a real smile show.

Then, rumors began to spread that a servant had walked into the royal chambers to replace the bedding and apparently caught the two in a compromising position even though they were supposed to be in a war meeting.

I was doubtful when I first heard, but I even overheard some council members complaining about how they missed when the two bickered all meetings instead of ditching meetings to sneak off together.

The new development had only lasted a matter of days, so I hadn’t figured out if it stemmed from a need for distraction given the impending situation or if the two had formed a more intimate relationship since Jude’s return to health.

The look of devastation on Jude’s face after Cardan transformed suggested that whatever their relationship entailed, Jude had begun to share feelings for him that went beyond hate or tolerance.

When Cardan snapped the blood crown, the air turned stale and the ground hardened. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Cardan, as his body seemed to melt and twist into the monstrous snake.

The ground shook as the snake moved through the room headed straight for the sword maker. By the time Grimsen was swallowed, I was being pushed deeper into the castle by the flow of the crowd desperate to get to safety. I only got a glimpse of the horror on Jude’s face before she was completely out of sight.

By the time I finally saw her later, I saw the tear stains on her cheeks and the exhaustion behind her eyes. I wondered if she was mourning Cardan or perhaps she was coming to terms with her own future. If Cardan could not be saved, Jude would likely not last long on the throne. The lower courts might seize the chance or the undersea would. That is if our father didn’t dethrone her first.

For the first time in months, I thought I might be able to understand her again. Like me, her husband gave her a level of security that was uncommon for a human in Faerie. While Jude may try to say her motivations for marrying Cardan were different from me marrying Locke, I don’t think they were. They were both motivated by power and protection.

I married Locke for protection in Elfhame. My position as his wife also gave me a degree of power I never had before. Jude married Cardan to become High Queen. She could have become the most powerful knight alive and still not have been afforded the same level of protection she has as Cardan’s queen. While we may have had different expectations for our marriages, both were strategic.

Madoc taught us that it is harder to hold onto power than it is to gain it. It is even harder to hold on when it is just you. Together, she and Cardan had a chance at maintaining the throne, but alone the chances were slim.

I may have lost almost every privilege I had as Locke’s wife, but Jude had a lot more to lose without Cardan; including her life.

In his absence, the happiness that Jude showed disappeared entirely. When she wasn’t in meetings, she could be found in the destroyed throne room and truly seemed to mourn him.

I recognized some of her pain, though her situation was different of course. I knew what it was like to feel the suffocating sense of loneliness. After all, I had gone months without hearing from my sisters or my parents, all while stuck in a relationship that was on tilted ground from the start.

I knew the pain of losing a partner. Locke died by my hand, but it did not stop the mixed emotions that came after. In the instant I decided to act, I lost any promise of a safe future in Elfhame.

We both knew what it was like to be humans in Faerieland; powerless to watch as the monsters closed in from all sides. In a land where the food, wine, a dance, and a simple conversation could be disastrous, only she and I could truly understand the deep fear that every day brought.

When the day came to bridle the snake, my sister looked magnificent, powerful even. She looked every bit the part of High Queen. But behind her cold, fierce look, I noted the inner turmoil that plagued her.

No one had any ideas on how to save the High King. Therefore, her future came down to if she would decide to wield the snake as a weapon or not. With the serpent, Jude would have had a chance to hold her position on the throne. Without Cardan, she would likely lose everything.

If power was the only thing she wanted, it would have been a simple choice. Jude would have found the snake and ruled as the murderous queen that some fae refer to her as, for as long as she could. She hesitated though. After she dressed in Mab’s armor, she paced back and forth while she chewed her bottom lip, as she does when she is nervous or thinking. She didn’t know what she was going to do.

It was that morning that it became obvious that my sister had loved Cardan back. It was more than lust or a political arrangement. They both could claim their marriage had been strategic, and it might have started that way, but there was love between them. A love that kept her from using Cardan as a weapon.

They played their games and hurt one another, but when the other was in danger they shared the same look of desperate determination to save them. The look on Jude’s face was the same as Cardan’s when he came to Vivi’s apartment; desperate, sad, and determined.

____________________________________________________________

When Jude returned with a naked, bloody, Cardan I could not believe it. The impossible had happened.

Within a matter of hours, the palace managed to throw a feast in honor of the High King returning. I dressed quickly and made my way to join in the celebration with my siblings and Heather. Tatterfell told us that Jude would join us shortly.

At the height of the party, I spotted a familiar face trying to keep out of sight near the edge of the room. I left my spot near the musicians table and made my way towards him.

“Hello Garrett,” I said as I stopped next to him, taking in the room from his angle. Vivi, Heather, and Oak were still eating at one of the long tables. The crowd parted suddenly, so it was easy to spot Jude and Cardan as they made their way to the dancefloor.

“Taryn,” he replied with a smile.

Neither of us spoke for a moment as the kitchen servants brought out more desserts with a level of fanfare that matched the king that was being celebrated.

“Are you on king and queen duty this evening?” I asked with a nod to the direction of the dance floor.

Garrett shook his head and laughed, “Technically, I am always responsible for their safety, but I sense that the king and queen don’t wish to be followed.”

I looked back only to notice Cardan leading Jude behind the dais and out of sight.

“Then, perhaps you would like to dance?” The words slipped out before I could reason why it was a silly idea. Before I could regret my words, he offered a soft smile before extending his hand.

I let him sweep me onto the dance floor, trusting him to stop me before my feet wear out. I don’t know if it was the way his face lit up when he laughed, or because he is a member of my sister’s court of spies, or because I could command him at any time (not that I ever intend on using his name), but as we twirled and laughed together, I felt safe.

The feeling was a bit ridiculous. My future was still entirely unknown. I had a baby growing inside me, still needed to stand trial, and had no way to support myself.

Technically, both Garrett and I had committed crimes punishable by death, but at least for the evening, I was happy to share the space with him.

We stayed on the dance floor together until the sun streaked in through the windows.

____________________________________________________________

On the day of the tribunal, I could not help but tremble slightly. Cardan’s promise floated in my head, but I would never fully believe it until I was officially declared innocent. I could not believe that Jude would punish me too harshly. After all, she hated Locke for what he did, so I couldn’t imagine she was upset by my actions. At the same time, she also hated me for what I did, so it was hard to guess her thoughts.

I took my time getting ready until it was finally time to make my way to the throne room. I quietly entered and found my spot in the crowd before glancing up at the dais.

Together they sat. Two enemies who had somehow fallen in love. They had risen together through everything that had happened.

Jude made Cardan into a respectable king and Cardan made Jude queen so no one could overlook her power again.

Cardan invited me forward and in a clear voice, he granted me everything he promised. I was innocent and my child and I would inherit Locke’s titles.

I walked back to my seat and felt the weight of the last few months fall off of my shoulders.

With the ruling, I let myself imagine my future; something I had not done since the night I drove the letter opener plunge into Locke’s neck.

I had made regrettable choices in the past, but I had been given a fresh start.

I had hated the way my sisters had loving relationships, but now it was what I hope to find for myself.

I want a love that is more than security or protection or fun. I want to be with someone who encourages me to be more.

I am not in a rush to find love again. I have my child to raise, my relationships to repair, but if my sister’s love taught me anything, it is that love can happen in the most unlikely of places with the most unlikely of people.

#taryn pov #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #the folk of the air #tfota fanfic #jurdan fanfic #taryn duarte #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #the cruel prince #taryn and jude duarte #the duarte sisters #the cruel prince fanfiction #taryn x ghost

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nagirambles · 2 years

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AHH I love your fics and I love the newest guided fireflys chp! I cant wait to see how you handle the phantom arc and lucys whole family, espcially considering natsu rembers anna and taking one good look at lucy will ring some bells! I love your chp anylasis and my fav part of my day is checking ur tumblr to see if you posted smthn new! I need more fairytail fics where theyre platonic realtionships take center place and you provide and I cant wait to see more of that! Also what are your thoughts on lucys and her dads realtionship? to me it rings absolute emotional abuse but i wanna know your thoughts?

Hiii!! Thanks for reading ♡♡ I am glad to hear you like it! Aaaaaa QwQ thank u

Lucy and her dad's relationship, huh... I think Jude is one of the better written side character arcs of the show, tbh.

And yes, his treatment of her all the way up to Phantom was absolutely emotional abuse and neglect on his part. He completely failed as a father, there's nothing anyone can say to justify his actions there.

Jude is a heavily flawed man. He may have cracked under the grief of losing his wife, but that only explains his actions, it doesn't justify it. And I liked how it all turned out. He lost sight of love for his daughter, and dove mindlessly into his business, only to lose his business and end up a shell of his former self, left with nothing at all. He made a horrible mistake in his life, and he paid the price for it. And then, when he got told off by Lucy and started seeing how happy she was once she was free from him, he realized all he missed out on and all he would never be able to get back, and he truly felt guilt for it.

He spent the rest of his life trying his best to make up for everything, even if he didn't deserve her forgiveness and because of the 7yl, he never got it either. It's a tragic story that really encapsulates the FT spirit of everyone deserving a second chance, because people are redeemable at heart.

I liked the direction it was going. It went slow, it was gradual and his relationship with Lucy changed little by little. It didnt just abruptly change from hostile to amiable (like Gajevy), it went from estranged, to burned bridges, to a gradual tolerance. Wrapping his arc up with his death after 7yl was actually really good, because it managed to really show how hard he tried even though it was too late.

It's a wonderfully tragic story of a father-daughter relationship that could have been but never came true. And it's one of the very few moments someone actually died in FT, and it truly enriched the narrative experience in a heartfelt way.

#it's an ask #fairy tail

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playlistmusings · 3 years

Text

I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

1,347 words

Jude Duarte x Cardan Greenbriar

Jude has a gift for Cardan, but she is also Jude 'I hate emotional vulnerability' Duarte, so... You know how that usually works. It's pretty much just a fluffy "Jude gives Cardan a wedding ring" fic. (technically set post tQoN in my mind, but there’s no spoilers past tWK so it could be set whenever)

More fluff that is pretending to be angst because I love the idea of Jude giving Cardan a ring and wrote this while listening to love songs written by Taylor Swift.

-----

It was late in the night—or early in the day, depending on whether you woke up during the late afternoon or at dawn—and the sky was brightening before Jude’s eyes. As she gazed out at the royal gardens her stomach was flipping despite the calm atmosphere. The flowing gardens were always full of life and tranquility no matter the season or the time of day, two things that were ironic to Jude when she thought about the death and chaos she caused in the very same place. But that wasn’t what she was pondering. In the cool air, she stressed over her future, fiddling with the ruby ring on her finger while a million thoughts flew through her mind. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks it’s just a dumb human tradition? What if I’m going to make a fool of myself?

As the sun rose past the horizon, Jude knew she had to be decisive, it was now or never—even though it really wasn’t, because she could just give up and wait until tomorrow (except that was what she had been doing for the past week and a half)—and spun around on her heel, marching confidently back into the palace. She was determined, nothing would stop her now, not her own fears and definitely not anyone else.

She made her way towards her chambers, the ones she now shared with Cardan, hoping that he was still there, ideally still sitting on their bed reading, just as she had left him with some excuse of needing fresh air. She was already making scripts in her head—she would walk in, take the book from his hands, and declare she had something to talk about, it would be that easy. But if it were going to be that easy, why was doubt creeping in again, screaming at her that she was making herself too vulnerable.

She shook her head as she passed the guards at her chamber doors, lifting a hand to make a motion vaguely similar to a wave, before pushing her shoulders back, lifting her head high, and pushing through the doorway with as much confidence as she could muster. You can do this. It was a mantra repeating in her mind as she crossed the antechamber and opened the bedroom doors, closing her eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath before steeling herself for what she was going to do.

“Cardan! I have—” something for you. The words died on her tongue as she saw Cardan sitting on her side of the bed, a black box left haphazardly on the sheets next to him, a ring held between to fingers.

They were both slow to react, Jude out of shock and fear, Cardan because he was seemingly to focused on the band he held to realize his wife had even entered the room. After what felt like years to Jude, he turned to her, a look in his eyes that was familiar, but she couldn’t tell from what.

“Would you like to explain what this is?” His voice was clear and left no room for games, but Jude could hear slivers of confusion intertwined with the words.

She let herself freak out for a few seconds, before getting a shaky grasp on her emotions, trying to drive the fear and stress away. It’s going to be okay. It’s just a ring, it’s nothing. Except it was something, it was something important to Jude, but it had been a long time since she had voluntarily said something was important to her. She much preferred to leave it unsaid, to show that something—or, most recently, someone—was important through meaningful actions and other words. With Cardan it was whispered ‘I love you’s as she drifted off to sleep and cups of his favorite tea when he woke up, soft glances from across the room during meetings and light kisses when they were finally alone for the night. She let herself take one more deep breath, remembering that he was her husband and this wasn’t really that big of a deal.

“It’s a ring,” His eyes bore into hers, screaming I know that, stop being difficult! She continued, “It’s a ring, uh, a ring for you.”

He nodded once, something about his demeanor changing slightly. “It’s a ring. For me.”

Jude nodded, trying to force the words that had been playing in her head for the past month out of her mouth, but Cardan spoke before she could, “Then why was it hidden? And why now? There’s nothing to celebrate.”

Jude glanced at the ground quickly before looking back into Cardan’s eyes, “I just—It’s for you because you’re my husband and I know that sharing rings and whatever isn’t like a thing for faeries but it is for me and you gave me a ring when we got married which meant that you know that, even if it was technically mine to begin with, before you were an absolute asshole and stole it. So, I got you a ring, a dumb human ring, because you’re my husband and married people give each other rings, even if the idea of giving you a ring is dumb and intimidating.”

It all came out at once, in a much less eloquent fashion than she had intended, but Jude supposed she shouldn’t be picky about how it came out when at least it was finally out.

Cardan seemed to be in shock at Jude’s outburst, looking at the ring then her then the ring again.

“You got me a wedding ring?”

Jude nodded sharply. Cardan grinned.

“And then you hid it because you got scared?”

“I was not scared!” Jude shouted, “I never said I got scared!”

Cardan grinned wider, if that was even possible, standing up and walking towards where Jude stood by the door.

“Sure, not scared, just—what was it?” He pretended to think as he approached her, “Oh yes, you said it was intimidating to give me a ring.”

Jude glared, “This was supposed to be romantic, you know? Not you making fun of me for a poor choice of words.”

Cardan smiled, leaning in to kiss her brow, and mumbling something along the lines of “Sure, if that’s what you say.”

Jude tried to stay annoyed with him, but he was frustratingly good at using soft touches to unravel her, his breath making her shiver as it brushed along her jaw and neck.

“It’s just—Cardan, stop, I’m trying to talk.” He grinned, stepping back from where he was leaving a particularly dark bruise on the underside of her chin. “It’s just that I grew up seeing rings on my parents’ fingers and now I have a ring on my finger and I like it, a lot more than I thought, and a lot more than I’ll ever admit again. And I just wanted that for you, I wanted to give you something that you could have forever, to remind you that I loved you, even if I wasn’t there to say it.”

Something softened in his eyes, a genuine smile flashing across his face as he reached down to grab Jude’s hand.

“Jude, I promise you, I could never forget that you love me. And I don’t know what you’re worried about, I love it, I love you.”

Cardan smiled before making a show of slipping the ring onto his finger. Jude smiled back, hesitantly, before reaching forward to cup Cardan’s cheek and pull him in for a sweet kiss.

“So, how long were you hiding it before I found it? Days? Weeks? Maybe a month? Am I really that scary?” Cardan’s voice filled the room before he began laughing at Jude’s exasperated groan.

“Maybe I’ll take it back, then, if you’re going to make me wish I never married you.” She countered as Cardan crowded her, pulling her towards their bed.

“Oh, we both know you’re never going to wish that.” Jude swallowed a sharp retort and just shook her head, smiling as Cardan kissed her.

#jude x cardan #jude duarte #jude greenbriar #cardan greenbriar #prince cardan #jurdan fluff #jurdan #fluff #tfota fanfic #the folk of the air fanfic #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing

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the-chick-of-the-air · 3 years

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Hello my lovelies!!

Ok let me just start by saying- 600 followers?! Are you kidding?? Thank you all SO much! I can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am to have every single one of you interested enough in my blog to be following me! Thank you thank you thank you!!!🥰🥰

Now I’m gonna repay you by breaking your hearts!

This is my first try at anything super angsty, so if your gonna yell at me afterwards please feel free to do so in the comments or in my ask box or even just reblogging and cursing me in the tags🤣 please let me know what you think!

TW: Major character death, mentions of vomiting and allusions to body mutilation- nothing graphic just vaguely indicated but whatever you are comfortable with is up to you! If any of what I warned makes you uncomfortable please don’t read! Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction!

Update: I’m sorry- I posted this and for some reason the tag list wasn’t working but it should be now! If your username has changed please let me know so I can tag you properly down below!❤️

Summary: Someone important dies. Cardan deals with it. Grab your tissues❤️

Final Resting Place

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” The folk are not in the habit of apologizing, much less for something that is so common. It matters not, Cardan has ceased listening, has heard nothing after The Bomb uttered those damning words.

Jude is dead.

He recalls, distantly, a time when Nicasia drug him halfway to her underwater kingdom, wishing to show him its beauty and splendor. He recalls how helpless he felt, how he could breathe but it wasn’t right. How he was silenced and the pressure from the water was crushing his chest so painfully it didn’t matter if he could breathe or not.

This feels near exactly like that.

“Your Highness?” Someone is asking a question he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t even ask them to repeat themselves. All he can do is state,

“She is to be brought back here. Burned on the pyres.” A Queen’s funeral. The only funerals the folk bothered to observe.

Someone, The Roach, likely, grunts in disapproval, “She… we…are not able to bring the body back. It was…”

Cardan isn’t sure what part of that statement makes his stomach churn the worst, the fact that they just referred to his wife, their queen as a body, or the fact that there apparently isn’t too much of her body to bring back.

He tries not to think, not to guess at what death was so brutal that she doesn’t even have a body left.

And that really is it, isn’t it? She, his fierce, vibrant, deadly queen, who always looked over her shoulder, is- was always so cautious, secretly ruling over a land that was designed to kill her, the mighty Jude Duarte, slayer of the folk-

Killed by something mortal.

In the mortal lands.

Where he sent her.

It was almost laughable, Cardan did laugh. Hysteria bubbling up in his chest like bile, which it might have been because suddenly the churning in his stomach was no longer violent but imminent and he’s throwing himself into the bathing chamber.

He doesn’t hear the court of shadows, her court of shadows, retreating as he retches into the chamber pot.

~.~

Time has lost all meaning.

It’s been days, weeks, months. The days pass in a blur, marked only by those who knew what she meant to him coming to give their condolences. Like it could lessen the pain of her being gone. Lessen the pain that came with the knowledge that this was his fault.

It was so ironic it hurt. Had he not exiled her to the mortal lands for her protection, she would have still been alive, ruling where she belonged, right by his side.

And now, she would never get to rule her kingdom openly. She would never share his throne, his crown, his name, his bed again.

She was gone before he got to have her.

And it was his own damn fault.

He refused to hold any audience with Taryn. It wasn’t fair, her twin was dead and she was parading around wearing her face. He knew that should he take one look at her, he would break beyond recognition.

The only thing keeping him alive on the throne being Jude’s memory, how she would have wanted, commanded him to keep ruling, even if she wasn’t there to do it with him.

He did allow an audience with Viviane, once. She had all but demanded it and would hardly take no for an answer. She arrived, eyes puffy and bloodshot, looking as terrible as he felt which didn’t seem fair either.

He wanted to be alone in his pain, for it to be all his own, because no one could understand, could relate to how he felt for her. Why should they share in his grief? The newest plate of armor he has cast over his heart?

She wasted no time on condolences, which in itself was strangely comforting. She got straight to the point, “You missed the funeral.”

“A mortal tradition.” His voice was hoarse with disuse. Had he gone so long without speaking to anyone? That didn’t seem possible.

“Dammit Cardan! She would have wanted you there.” Her anger was refreshing, a nice change of pace compared to the complete emptiness that was left behind in the shape of a mortal footprint upon his heart.

He almost wants to disagree, but that would make no sense. The folk can’t lie, not even half-fae.

When he doesn’t respond, Vivi crosses her arms, “Will you at least come visit her? Say your goodbyes? You have to say yes, we both know you need it.”

And painful as it was, she was right. The one thing that hurt worse than Jude being dead, knowing that it was because of him, was that he didn’t get to say goodbye. That all his letters to her went unanswered. That she died without knowing how much he needed her. How much he missed her and all she was to him. How much he…

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he silently rises and follows Vivi to his queen’s final resting place.

~.~

The mortal world is bright and loud and reeks of iron and is so alive it feels audacious. How dare anyone else continue living when someone from this place, someone so important, so above them was forced to forfeit that right?

The plot of land where she- what’s left of her- is laid to rest is small. The headstone sits, new and clean, next to two more that are dulled with age.

Justin and Eva Duarte.

Madoc had somehow procured graves for the two mortals he slaughtered, and now their youngest daughter lay beside them.

They are standing there for ten minutes before Vivi speaks, “You know, when someone visits the grave of someone they love, they usually look at it.” Her voice is monotone as she stares at the slab of stone sitting at the head of a patch of newly sprouted grass.

He’s not sure he can. If he looks, if he sees there is in fact a final stop, a final holding place for this restless mortal, then he will know it is real. That this wasn’t all some elaborate trick or punishment of her own making to get back at him for her banishment.

Foolish as it is, that was a dark hope buried deep inside him. That she was really still there, biding her time, waiting until he was just ruined enough to waltz back into his life to teach him a well deserved lesson. Perhaps on gratitude, on not taking things for granted.

It would be such a Jude thing to do.

A hand rests on his shoulder and he nearly flinches away, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Her footsteps recede, utterly fae and silent. So unlike the ones he desperately wishes to hear a final time.

It takes him maybe two minutes more for his eyes to finally find the headstone. He is shocked to find he can barely read what is inscribed upon it through tears that have filled his eyes.

Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

Beloved sister and wife

2001-2019

His tears come in earnest, then. How had he never known she took his name as well? Had cared enough to do so? Or was this something her sisters did to spite him? He pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle any sobs trying to break free.

Cautiously, so cautious she would be proud, he runs his fingers over the inscription of her name- their name. When he knows his voice will be steady, he speaks.

“Well, wife.” He presses his eyes closed as a fresh wave of tears pushes at his senses, “I doubt either of us saw it coming to this.” Gently, he tugs something out of the satchel he brought with him.

“It was yours. For you to wear upon your return. For when you came home.” He couldn’t stop his voice from breaking as he carefully laid the crown down at the foot of the headstone, glamoured so mortals would see it as a pile of painted rocks.

“I guess in a way, I got what you thought I wanted. For you to…” He can’t even bring himself to say it. He had never wanted this. When in palace lessons, he thought that dreams plagued with her scent, her voice, her touch had been the most horrid nightmares. He was wrong, this was far worse than any dream he had of her angry face, her soft hair. This was a nightmare terrifying enough to cripple the strongest of men.

“Well. I guess it doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter that I wish I could take back what I said about you in our childhood. That you would return to the earth, worm food.” He shudders, recalling that he had said those things while imagining that they would have followed a long life. One filled with her aging slowly due to living in Elfhame. Secret imaginings he only allowed himself in the darkest hours of the night- ones where he was by her side and they wreaked havoc together for the rest of their long, full lives. His next words are whispered, “I never imagined it would happen so soon.”

His hand returns to the headstone, gripping the cool rock tightly.

There is nothing left to say aside from one final message. Nothing left to do other than leave this place and continue on in his immortality, letting her fade into the backs of everyone’s memory as the Last Mortal Queen.

Taking a final shaky breath, Cardan utters the truth he had spent nearly his whole life repressing, trying to lie his way around. The words he now so desperately wishes he had said to her before he cast her out of their home in hopes of preventing this very thing from happening.

With one final look upon the place his wife, his queen is forever to rest upon, he whispers,

“I love you.”

~.~

Years and years and years later, young children of the gentry sit in their history lessons amongst their mortal classmates, and learn of the beautiful, treacherous life that was led by the Last Mortal Queen, Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

And that is that! Did I make you cry? Do you want to throw crumpled tissues at my head? Let me know!❤️ (I left out details of Jude’s death on purpose, it’s up to your imagination to come up with what happened to her, sorry for pain😬)

Tag list:

As always, please let me know through the comments or my inbox or any other way you are comfortable with and let me know if you wish to be added to my list so you can be alerted to my future works!

@maleckanejnessienjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed @df3ndyr @brittneyal @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @fuzzypineapples-blog @nahthanks @charrise @thefolkofthefic @theviolettulip @embersfromink @kittkatandbooboo

Till next time, loves!🥰

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sirikenobi12 · 3 years

Text

This Capt' goes down with her Ship

I’m honestly amazed at how many messages I receive both here and on Twitter that ask me why I ship Obi-Wan with Siri Tachi over Satine Kryze. I guess I’m mostly amazed because I can’t believe people actually care enough to take the time to message me about my character preferences, that’s just really fascinating to me.

But, since I’m getting tired of writing this out in individual messages I thought perhaps a blog would be a good idea so that way I can just reference/link them to it later - it’ll be much easier. So, bear with me while I get a little self indulgent (and Satine stans please don’t come at me, I will explain below how I really have nothing against Obitine).

This is going to be really long, and I’m not expecting anyone to actually read this, but here we go!

I’ll begin by answering questions that are sitting in my inbox:

1. Who the hell is Siri Tachi?? For those who don’t know the character of Siri Tachi, she was a female Jedi who was two years younger than Obi-Wan. She was originally from the Legends young reader book series Jedi Apprentice and Jedi Quest (written by Jude Watson). She was in many of the same Padawan classes as Obi-Wan even though she was two years his junior because of her advanced skills. She could hold her own against him in a lightsaber duel even as they grew up. She was chosen as an apprentice to Jedi Council Member Adi Gallia at age 11 which was very impressive given how young she was and the fact that a Council Member chose her.

(I don’t know why she looks like Brittany Spears in this drawing, not my fave)

She did have a hard time fitting in with her peers when she was younger though because she was so focused on her career as a Jedi which didn’t always make her the friendliest person to be around (it was really her masking her insecurities) and it was only after she was paired on several missions with Obi-Wan that they even became friends.

She and Obi-Wan over the years grew very close and eventually discovered their feelings had crossed the line from friends to something more while on a mission when they were older Padawans (Obi was 18). They had been separated from their masters and nearly died while on that mission. So, before they “died” they each confessed their love to the other, but when it turned out they didn’t actually die they decided they’d wait and figure out what their relationship actually meant once the mission was over - putting duty above their feelings. But Qui-Gon and Yoda intervene before the two of them could have the conversation and the Masters reminded Obi-Wan of his dedication to the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan argued that he and Siri would be able to find a way to be together while still being active Jedi, that maybe they could be an exception to the rule or even change the rule entirely. Both he and Siri did end up choosing their commitment to the Jedi over their relationship in the end, because each of them realized they’d regret not being Jedi more than anything, but it did put a strain on their friendship for many years.

At 23 Siri was secretly knighted and her first solo mission was sent undercover to infiltrate and take down a huge pirate slaver operation and she spent 4 years on that mission, all on her own with limited communication with the Council.

In order to do this she had to pretend to have a falling out with her Master and “leave” the Order entirely, everyone thought she had fallen to the dark side. Obi-Wan was devastated, and he spent several months looking for her because he refused to believe she’d actually fall. It was also clear that he was heartbroken that she left, especially knowing what they had given up in order to be Jedi. Upon ending the mission she returned to the Jedi and was then often sent on other undercover missions throughout the rest of her career (including one where she and Obi-Wan had to play a royal married couple which was super cute). Her actually being a Jedi Shadow is not official and is a fanfiction creation - but, it’s one that I 100% headcanon because it just makes sense.

Siri was very different when she returned from her long undercover mission, she had lived as a pirate for 4 years and so she was not as uptight and rule bound as she had been in her youth. She began to wear tight unisuits/flight suits instead of the traditional Jedi tunics and she had grown to be a bit more irreverent - even showing up late to Jedi Council summons. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind the change and the two became a formidable pair as Knights and they were sent together (with their Padawans who hated one another) on several missions.

Obi-Wan and Siri were always written as being equals, never one more powerful than the other. They often shared flirtatious banter (nothing new for Obi-Wan) and they seemed very much in sync on missions that it was clear they shared some kind of bond. They never seemed to let their failed romance stand between them and their duty, and only brought it up once more as adults to admit that they still loved each other, but were content to just be friends because it would be selfish of them to turn their backs on the Jedi simply for their love. Then upon Siri’s untimely death (she of course died in his arms) she told him that she’d always be with him. And he nearly fell to the dark side due to his anger, but stopped himself from killing the man who was responsible for Siri’s death because he knew she’d not want him to fall because of her.

In canon there isn’t much about her (yet), except that Siri is said to be the girl Obi-Wan would hold hands with under the table during mid-day meals which suggests that they had a bit of a secret affair/flirtation for many years.

2. Why don’t you like Satine? This is a bit of a loaded question because even though I tend to write fics centered more on Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy the character of Satine or that I don’t swoon over their relationship from time to time thanks to some very well written fics ( @mahizli I’m looking your way). I just tend to write Siri more than Satine because I can relate to Siri more as a character, but in truth I also feel Siri and Obi-Wan’s relationship is a bit more well rounded than his and Satine’s

*ducks to avoid things being thrown at her*.

Satine and Obi-Wan have a beautiful love story, don’t get me wrong. But for me personally I am a little sick of the Romeo & Juliette/star crossed lovers angle. And that’s totally what they are - She’s a Mandalorian, He’s a Jedi, it’s a forbidden love not just because of his code, but because their “families” were mortal enemies. And I guess I’m just not super inspired by it. Not to mention that they met as children (apparently only 15 years old according to canon), confessed their undying love for one another after a year of knowing one another in a life or death situation and then pined for each other for the next 20 years until they were reunited...I just have a very hard time finding this story relatable (and hate to say it, plausible). Not that they couldn’t have felt love for one another as teenagers (especially in that situation), but that they still felt that same level of love 20 years later without ever seeing one another...at least with Siri they still had to interact with one another on a regular basis so it would be harder to push those feelings aside.

The other reason I have a hard time writing Satine and Obi-Wan is because the romantic love they seem to have in TCW is written to be very one sided in my opinion. While Obi-Wan clearly cares for her, and admits to having feelings for her at one time it’s only ever Satine who actually seems to want something with him in the current sense. Which honestly makes their relationship feels a bit cringy to me, it doesn’t feel like it’s on equal footing - and makes it seem like Satine is a bit obsessive (I don’t blame her, it is Obi-Wan after all). This is a similar argument I have about Padme’s character, I feel like we’re presented with these incredibly strong women characters who for whatever reason still fall apart when it comes to love...I think it’s a reflection of men trying to write women and it ends up being a bit of a fantasy (the sexy/badass woman who secretly needs a man to save her). So, to sum up - I really do love Satine’s character outside of her relationship with Obi-Wan.

Again, this is just MY interpretation of Satine and Obi-Wan’s relationship...I get other people tend to feel very differently and that’s wonderful!!

I will say, the thing I do like about Obi-Wan and Satine’s relationship and very much appreciate is how it is an opposite parallel to Anakin and Padme’s relationship. And it shows what a Jedi should’ve done - how you can’t have both a commitment to the Jedi Order and a marriage, but you can still care deeply about another person. I do very much appreciate that aspect of their relationship and it’s very well done from that perspective.

3. So, why SiriWan after all these years? Well, I’m drawn to Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship for several reasons, but mostly because they are written as equals/partners (as I had mentioned above), both have moments where you can see the love they hold for one another - their feelings are very much shared and not one sided, but above all it’s not the main defining factor of their relationship. They are Jedi and friends before anything else, and I love that! It may not be as flashy or maybe even as passionate as say Satine or Cody but to me it’s more full and well rounded. I can also see their relationship growing and changing over the years, they aren’t stuck in one place or in the past.

I also tend to find the Jedi culture more fascinating than the Mandalorians. I know, I know, I’m a heretic. That’s not to say, again that I don’t think Satine on her own isn’t fascinating, I just am a little tired of Mandalore’s importance in virtually every aspect of Star Wars these days and I feel like there is only so much you can do with Obi-Wan having feelings for a Mandalorian, where as him navigating a relationship with another Jedi is more interesting. The Jedi are allowed to be intimate with people, contrary to popular belief they are allowed to love, they just can’t become possessive/attached - I feel like two Jedi would have an easier time navigating that than someone who wasn’t raised with that same code. I think Siri and Obi-Wan have more opportunities to have a more realistic and adult relationship and I like writing/exploring that.

The other thing I like about Siri and Obi-Wan specifically is the fact that neither ever really considered leaving the Order for the other. They knew how important being a Jedi was to the other, and I think having a love interest that Obi-Wan didn’t consider leaving for is an important distinction.

Instead he thought they would be able to change the rules/code because he assumed it would be obvious that their love was pure and not an attachment. Now, obviously they both realized later that it was just foolish/young love talking (because I’m sure teenagers have to be extra careful of forming attachments), but what I really adore the concept that Obi-Wan “by the code” Kenobi had loved Siri so much that he’d even remotely consider the idea that he’d want the rules to change for her/them (and Siri “by the code” Tachi felt the same about him). There is something incredibly romantic about that - naïve, but romantic.

I also believe that romantic love doesn’t automatically equal “true love”. I personally feel that Obi-Wan and Siri have a love that is on such a deep level that their relationship doesn’t always have to be romantic. They simply just love one another, in whatever form that takes at any given period in time throughout their lives, sometimes it takes the form of just friends, sometimes lovers, sometimes romantic. And I wish we saw more relationships like that in various media. But I get why we don’t, they are harder to write and less overtly sexy/dramatic.

Also, when someone says the phrase:

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone.” (Siri)

And it’s followed immediately with:

“You do” (Obi-Wan)

My heart just melts, because that to me is love!!

4. So, you actually think Obi-Wan loved both Siri & Satine? Yes, I do...100%. I think they all loved other people at different points in their lives. I personally feel that most of Obi-Wan’s various ships (with exceptions of Master/Padawan ships...sorry, just not my bag) actually happened. I could see a young Obi-Wan having a fling with Quinlan Vos (I doubt they could handle more than that), I could definitely see him have an attraction/affection towards Cody (I don’t think given the power dynamic Obi-Wan would ever allow anything to actually happen between them though), I even believe he and Ventress had a rather confusing and passionate night together (maybe even more than one), I can see him easily having a relationship at one point with Taria Damsin (to which Siri would give him endless crap about because he seems to have a thing for Jedi Shadows). I’m sure he even had a relationship with Annileen on Tatooine to help find some comfort during his exile. To me all of that makes so much more sense than him (and Satine) pining away for one another for 20+ years.

Allowing Obi-Wan to have multiple loves in his life also helps showcase the idea of non-attachment. It’s not that Jedi promote promiscuity - though they won’t judge anyone for it (I see the Jedi very much in the mindset of: it’s your body/your choice) it’s that the idea of attachment means possessing someone, thinking you own someone and also putting that person’s value over others. The idea that Obi-Wan could find love and value in a multitude of lovers to me shows him capable of loving without attachment - He is able to let these people go when the relationship has run its course...it’s very healthy.

Not to mention that realistically people tend to have multiple relationships and loves throughout their lives. To only ever love one person is incredibly unrealistic, unhealthy and frankly screams attachment to me *cough Anakin, cough*.

In conclusion: If you’re still reading this (did you not have anything better to do with your time???) I do hope you have a bit more of an understanding why I personally like to write Obi-Wan and Siri’s relationship instead of his and Satine’s. Though if you read my fics (thank you if you do) I hope you realize that I try to not make the stories all about their relationship - yes, it pops up here and there, but I try not to make it the focal point. I believe both Obi-Wan and Siri are so much more than just a romance and that’s what I really love writing.

But I raise a glass and toast all of those who prefer to ship Obitine or CodyWan or Ventrobi (or whatever Obi-Wan and Quilan’s ship name is) - I love reading your take on those relationships and I hope you don’t mind if an old SiriWan shipper joins the fun!

Phew, rant over...man, does anyone else have to defend their OTP preferences to strangers?? It’s just so odd to me!

Thanks for reading, and if you’re a Siri, Obi-Wan or SiriWan fan drop me a line - I can seriously talk about them for hours!

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #sw meta #long rant #long post #sorry yall #my otp for life #siri tachi #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #siriwan #obi wan x siri #why do people care who I ship?#jedi culture #jedi apprentice #jedi quest

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