#buried of narde

[monica-teresa-bordignon]

Gli inumati di Narde Resti archeologici di una coppia sepolta assieme, preservata al Museo dei Grandi Fiumi di Rovigo.

The buried of Narde Archeological remains of a couple buried together, preserved at the Museum of The Great Rivers, Rovigo.

[jamesjbkim]

During Jesus' lifetime, Jewish burial practices included several key elements:

1. Prompt burial: The body was typically buried within hours of death due to the hot climate and lack of modern preservation methods[1][3].

2. Body preparation: The corpse was washed, anointed with perfumes like nard, myrrh, and aloe, and wrapped in a shroud. The face was covered with a special cloth, and hands and feet were tied with cloth strips[1][3].

3. Visitation: Family and friends would gather quickly to pay respects and comfort the bereaved[1].

4. Procession: The body was carried to the grave on a litter by relatives and friends. The procession often included wailing mourners and flute players[3].

5. Tomb burial: Most common was interment in rock-cut tombs outside town limits. The body would be placed on a rock shelf in an outer chamber[1][3].

6. Sealing the tomb: A large round stone was rolled in front of the tomb entrance[3].

7. Secondary burial: About a year later, family members would collect the bones and place them in an ossuary (bone box) stored in the tomb's inner chamber[1][3].

Poor individuals or foreigners who couldn't afford rock-cut tombs were buried in shaft graves in designated fields[3].

Sources

[1] 7 Funeral Rituals from Jesus' Time that Still Exist Today https://www.funeralbasics.org/7-funeral-rituals-from-jesus-time-that-still-exist-today/

[2] Did Jews Always Bury Their Dead on the Day of their Death? Was ... https://ehrmanblog.org/did-jews-always-bury-their-dead-on-the-day-of-their-death-was-jesus-buried-then-the-evidence-of-josephus/

[3] Death and Burial at the Time of Jesus - Community in Mission https://blog.adw.org/2017/03/death-burial-time-jesus/

[4] Death & Bereavement in Judaism: Ancient Burial Practices https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/ancient-burial-practices

[5] Understanding the Significance of Burial Traditions in the Gospel ... https://answersingenesis.org/jesus/understanding-significance-burial-traditions-in-gospel-accounts/

[thatlongspringnight]

The Song of Solomon (Taehyung/Reader)

⏤ Pairing: Priest!Taehyung/Reader

⏤ Genre: smut, porn w/ plot, romance, forbidden love

⏤ Word Count: 2972

⏤ Warnings: Smut, sacrilege, cunnilingus, sex in a church, sex with a PRIEST, religion, Catholicism, tons of bible references, forbidden romance, oral, fingering, public nudity, sex in a public place 

__ Rating: 18+

Summary: Kim Taehyung left your town right after high school a boyish rake, and returned a pious man. Now you’re together, and the whispered words between you both are only heard by the silent, empty church. 

A very special thanks to Willow who edited this and helped make it beautiful <3 

Tagging: @wwilloww​ @hesperantha​ @jin-fizz​

You shouldn’t be here.  

Here, in the darkened church, the only lights are the flickering of half a dozen candles, here at the front, by the altar, by the crucifix and statues that have always stood here. Here where nothing has changed, since the beginning of time. You feel small, even in the bobbing lights you can see the stained glass, holy mother gazing down at you, clutching her son. Is she passing judgement? You aren’t sure, her expression is the same serenity as always. 

Although at this moment you are anything but serene. 

“I compare you, my love, to a mare among Pharaoh’s chariots.” His smooth voice, so deep - too deep, like the Nile river itself. “Your cheeks are comely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels. We will make you ornaments of gold, studded with silver.” He’s standing in front of you, fingertips brushing your cheeks, gentle but firm as he cups your chin, gaze hot on your own. The verse speaks of love, and it's love in your heart. Forbidden and wildly untamed in your chest. 

No, you shouldn’t be here at all. You should be at home, kneeling at your bed and saying your prayers there. You shouldn’t have accepted his invitation to compline. You definitely shouldn’t have agreed so eagerly when he suggested you read from the Song of Solomon. 

You shouldn’t have. You try to convince yourself, like you aren’t kneeling before him, hands clasped, eyes gazing upward at the giant crucifix. Like you aren’t an active participant in whatever is to come. You try and focus. Eyes trailing up - up -

Up - to Taehyung’s face, the only passion play you could bare to watch. 

“W-While the king was on his couch, my nard gave forth its fragrance.” Your own voice stumbles, at first, tripped up by the echoing drum of your racing heart. “My beloved is to me a bag of myrrh that lies between my breasts - “ A catch of breath - it's yours, it's yours because of those hands, his - warm and rough - cupping your breasts as you read. He’s eye level now, and you swear there is nothing more beautiful than the feeling of his hands on you. Your beloved. Still, you forge forward through the verses. “My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En-gedi.” 

“Ah, you are beautiful, my love;” He briefly strokes his thumb across your cheek, and the feeling makes you shiver. His eyes are dark in the candlelight, and molten as you meet their gaze. “Ah, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.” He recites the words, a poem he knows by heart, fingers trailing under your shirt. “Ah, you are beautiful, my beloved, truly lovely.” Taehyung is slow, nimble fingers taking his time with the buttons. He takes his time, as though he is cherishing the moment, like you are. A comfortable silence, until It's gone, fallen to the floor. Will you be bare here, too, then? A sinner bares their soul in confessional...and you would bare your body here, on the floor in this house of God.

“I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley.” Your voice ceases to waver, strength hidden in your bones rising up. “As a lily among brambles, so is my love among maidens.” You sigh, and sigh again as his nose brushes your throat, as his hands trace your skin. 

It feels like he is worshipping you, that you are the sacred body here, the red candle flickering in the corner. “As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among young men. With great delight I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.”

“Taste me.” His words are sweet, poison laced sugar as fingertips press against your lips, part for him, Moses and the red sea, and you taste. Taste the salt of his skin and crave him, crave more. More of his gentle smile, eyes alight as he sees you. More of the firmness of his hands, often on your back as he guided you down the hallways of this ancient, holy place. More of his laugh, still boyish and beautiful after all this time. More of every single piece of him.

“He brought me to the banqueting house, and his intention toward me was love. Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love.” You...you feel faint before you even say the words. The longing, the love - it makes you tremble. How can you be absolved from this? Why don’t you want to? 

If this is sin - this beautiful, divine feeling - then what is the point of it all? He is David and you are a harp, ready to play his tune. “O that his left hand was under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!” Your voice echoes, his hand cupping your cheek, the other sliding down to wrap around your waist. 

He hasn’t even kissed you yet. This feeling is your own sin, eyes eager to devour the words on the page, to decipher his next move. Overcome, it’s lust licking the sweet tendrils of flame in your belly. Hellfire? 

“Your lips distill nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue.” He tilts your head back, mouth so utterly close to yours. But he doesn’t move any closer, even as you feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the press of his body against yours. 

Is he...is he toying with you? And yet, the thought doesn’t match the desperation of his gaze. The way his hands tremble when they touch you. “The scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon. A garden locked is my sister, my bride, a garden locked, a fountain sealed.” The words are choked and you understand. 

You are locked to him, forbidden, closed. If you want him...you must be the one to open the gate. He won’t go forward without it, without knowing that it isn’t just him that wants this - this beautiful, terrifying thing. You want it, want him, want every drop of his love that he’ll offer you. 

“A garden.” You break the silence, the holy book in your hands clattering to the ground. “Solomon built the temple. He was a priest and a king, a man. Like you.” The implication is clear. Solomon was no celibate. And this time it’s you, gripping his face: “this is not a sin to absolve me of father.” It’s your lips on his. Desperate and wanting, you kiss him like a woman starved, and you are starved...starved for him, this culmination of all of your wants, here in front of you. 

He could tread in your garden as he liked. So long as you could taste the nectar of his lips - You would find the milk and honey of his body. Forbidden fruit - let his juices soak you to your core. 

“Not a sin?” Taehyung’s voice, deep in your ear, hoarse. “Fucking a priest in your church isn’t a sin?” His voice is deep, and there is an edge there, a hoarseness that would match your own. He sounds so - so wanting, it almost shocks you. Like his lips, soft and warm against your neck, fingers buried in your hair, tugging at the strands. 

“Not one for the priest to absolve me of.” You reach up, grasping at his collar. “How can I be forgiven if I am not sorry?” What has come over you? The words are bold, foreign on your lips - but you mean them, pulling him back to kiss him again.

He’s so warm, and his grip only tightens at your words. You - you want to succumb to those desires, to the sin in your heart that was for him and him alone.

“Guilt. Shame.” The man muses. “Shame, our punishment for trusting the snake. And yet - Solomon called his lover a garden, beautiful….decadent. Perhaps the garden of eden was like his lover - “

“The garden hid the original sin.” Sin, his hands leaving yours to grasp at his belt - the snap of it in the empty air. Sin, him pulling you forward, onto your feet, bruising lips, bruising fingertips on your thighs, as he drug you forward, pressing you against the altar, the sacredest of spaces. “Forbidden knowledge, is - is knowing you forbidden?” He’s the one on the ground now, on his knees in front of you. “Is it - father?” 

“Taehyung.” He grabs at his clerical collar, the white tossed to the ground as he parts your legs. “I am touching you as a man, not as a priest.”

“Maybe you should touch me as a priest.” You can feel him tense. “Consecrate my body, drink of me until we are both holy.” 

“Sacrilege.” He speaks, pulling down your skirt. “And in the house of God no less.” 

“If you will fuck me on the altar, why shouldn’t you -“ 

“It’s the Song of Solomon.” He interrupts you, nimble fingers pulling at sheer fabric, the only barrier between you and him. “Or have you forgotten?” 

“You - you want to finish the recitation?” He nods, barely perceptible, the sound of his voice as he tugs your sheer underwear down your legs, slowly - so slowly, taking time like he had done with your shirt.

“Your channel is an orchard of pomegranates with all choicest fruits, henna with nard, nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,” Your underwear hangs around tense ankles now, gaze trained on him. “with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices– a garden fountain, a well of living water, and flowing streams from Lebanon.” He sounds amused, even as he touches you, your sacred space. “A channel, a fountain, ripe fruit for the picking, d’you know of the love Solomon is speaking?”

“Carnal…” that answer was easy. “Desire - carnal love.” 

“More than that, he speaks of this.” A finger, swirling against you, sliding into that part of you you were told not to touch...not that you followed that rule. 

Perhaps that was a sin you could confess to. “Of this act, pleasuring you, and who am I not to follow the words of that famous king...and worship at your font - your well, your garden, till your juices drip down my chin like pomegranate juice.

“Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits…” You speak, remembering the line even without the bible in your hands. “Please Taehyung…” Your hands grip the altar table, bunching the embroidered cloth under your grip. 

He’s worshipping you, you’re sure of it, with tongue and teeth. It's messy, and he’s not shy, those lips that could stir a congregation with their sweetness, his golden tongue - now they were on you, fingers still in you to the hilt. 

It is not quiet, either. Your gasps barely muffled, the wet, lurid sounds he was drawing from your body echoing in the room. 

How often had you sat in those pews in front of you, how often had you knelt, gazing up at this very altar, bated breath as the transfiguration took place, over and over. 

Now you are transfigured - you will never be the same after tonight, even if you want to be. But there can be no regrets as he murmurs your name against your thighs. As he makes you tremble and gasp, tensing under his touch, falling apart like the walls of Jericho, turning to dust in the wake of his fervent, ardent desire. 

“How graceful are your feet in sandals, O queenly maiden! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of a master hand.” Slick fingers grip at your thighs, ruddied cheeks meeting your gaze as you pass your tongue over your lips. His mouth - it's wet, and that makes you blush...though you aren’t sure why at this point.

This is adultery, you muse, and of the worst kind. Taehyung is a priest, he’s married to the Church, and yet...and yet it's not communion wine smeared across his lips...no...he’s ripe for kissing with your essence glossed against his skin.

“Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.” He’s mouthing across the skin of your stomach, up and up, till he’s standing again, hands at your breasts, gentle kisses more heated the closer he gets to your mouth.

“T-Taehyung.” Your soft murmur of his name breaks his recitations, but only for a moment, his gaze altogether too hungry to be kept occupied for long. “Please - “ Please what? Please what to this beautiful man, who has already given you so much. 

Please more - please don’t stop - please love me.  

 “Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle. Your neck is like an ivory tower.” Your neck falls victim to this trap all too easily, tilting to the side as his pretty lips press against it, as teeth mark your skin. It’s painful in a way that pleases you, your body still a shudder of pleasure and desire. “Your eyes are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim. Your nose is like a tower of Lebanon, overlooking Damascus….” Why is his gaze so sweet? The words barely process as his fingertips ghost over your face, as his lips brush your forehead. 

 “Your head crowns you like Carmel….How fair and pleasant you are, O loved one, delectable maiden, You are stately as a palm tree...and your kisses like the best wine that goes down smoothly, gliding over lips and teeth.” He’s skipping verses, you realize, and he’s asking you for something, something you give. Kisses, like wine, your mouth against his, soft and gentle, and then more. 

This time it is you, it is you touching him, hands unbuttoning his pants, ghosting over the heaviness there. 

“I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me…” You hear his half gasp as you cup him, and you wonder how long it's been since he’s touched a woman. Are you the first one since he left for seminary? Since he returned back to your little town, a man fully grown, to find that he wasn’t the only one who had changed. 

“I-It is.” The man’s words, they’re darling, even as he’s grasping your hands, pulling them away from him, from his cock - out and hard, beautiful too -  even as he’s letting you tangle your hands in his hair, biting at his lower lip. “It's for you.” There is no guile in his tone, nothing in his eyes but honest desire. “For you - I’ll break my vows, over and over.” 

“Come, my beloved…” Your words are choked with emotion, and then cut off completely, because it's him - hot, inside of you. You wonder if he’s surprised that you don’t come to him a fresh and blushing bride, a virgin. But you both have changed, you remind yourself. 

And those changes had brought you here.  

“I’ll be the one to say that.” He grips at your thighs, his strokes as sure and steady as him. Taehyung was the earth beneath your feet, and - and he was the wind in your hair, the air in your lungs, his touches now - heaven sent. 

You know it now: Taehyung is an angel in disguise. Perhaps he’d strike you down when it was all done, for your sins. And you’d gladly go, if it meant this was the last feeling you had, you could die in his arms and spend the rest of your days in hellfire, or in the cold quiet of purgatory - wandering as a wraith, if it meant that he would keep looking at you this way. 

“S-say what?” You stammer, pulling him closer, so close to you, barely caring that he was fully clothed, and you were stark and nude. It seems fitting. Of course you should bare yourself to your priest, haven’t you done it to him countless times before in the confessional booth? Baring your soul and sins out for him to see.

To forgive. 

Your thoughts are idle, and he is murmuring sweetness into your ear, golden tongue - the snake in the garden. No, Taehyung is no snake dripping poison on your tongue. Taehyung is just as much lost soul as you are. You feel so hot under his touch, sensitive, full - on the precipice of it all.

“Come, my beloved.” His voice is almost as amused as it is desperate. “Come…” And you were falling, falling against him, letting him hold you as you trembled. “Come and there I will give you my love.” Love, in spurts and a muffled moan, his body staggering against you, pressing you further into the altar table. 

“Love…” You murmur, breath returning to normal as he pulls away from you. “The love of God to man, or the love of Solomon to his queen?”

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Taehyung answers, ever cryptic. His touch is still warm as he helps you put your clothes back on, touch slow, gentle as he re-buttons your shirt, as he uses your underwear to clean the drips of arousal from the floor. “We are called to love the church as God loves us. But i’m called to love you...like Solomon loved his woman.”  It’s a peck to your forehead, you watch him pocket the sheer material, and this is as much of a confession as you expect, surprised when he pulls you in for a gentle kiss, fingers entwining with your own.“Whatever it means, I won’t deny it, even in death, it will be your name on my lips.”

[thetudorslovers]

Women of the Bible Part II:

1.Jezabel: "When Jehu came to Jezreel, Jezebel heard of it. And she painted her eyes and adorned her head and looked out of the window. And as Jehu entered the gate, she said, “Is it peace, you Zimri, murderer of your master?” And he lifted up his face to the window and said, “Who is on my side? Who?” Two or three eunuchs looked out at him. He said, “Throw her down.” So they threw her down. And some of her blood spattered on the wall and on the horses, and they trampled on her. Then he went in and ate and drank. And he said, “See now to this cursed woman and bury her, for she is a king's daughter.” (Kings 9:30-37)

2.Priscilla: “He began to speak boldly in the synagogue. When Priscilla and Aquila heard him, they invited him to their home and explained to him the way of God more adequately” (Acts 18:26).

3.Elizabeth: “And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke 1:41).

4.Delilah:"When Delilah saw that he had told her everything, she sent word to the rulers of the Philistines, “Come back once more; he has told me everything.” So the rulers of the Philistines returned with the silver in their hands."(Judges 16:18)

5.Martha: "Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her’” (Luke 10:38–42).

6.Jehoshena: “But Jehosheba, the daughter of King Jehoram and sister of Ahaziah, took Joash son of Ahaziah and stole him away from among the royal princes, who were about to be murdered. She put him and his nurse in a bedroom to hide him from Athaliah; so he was not killed.” (2 Kings 11:2).

7.Sarah: “And God said, Sarah thy wife shall bear thee a son indeed; and thou shalt call his name Isaac: and I will establish my covenant with him for an everlasting covenant, [and] with his seed after him” (Gen. 17:19).

8.Mary of Bethan:“Six days before the Passover, Jesus therefore came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. So they gave a dinner for him there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those reclining with him at table. Mary therefore took a pound[a] of expensive ointment made from pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (he who was about to betray him), said, ‘Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii[b] and given to the poor?’ He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it. Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of my burial. For the poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me’” (John 12:1-8).

9.Michal: "Wherefore David arose and went, he and his men, and slew of the Philistines two hundred men; and David brought their foreskins, and they gave them in full tale to the king, that he might be the king's son in law. And Saul gave him Michal his daughter to wife." (Samuel-1 18:27)

10.Leah: "Now Laban had two daughters. The name of the older was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah's eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in form and appearance. Jacob loved Rachel. And he said, “I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel.” Laban said, “It is better that I give her to you than that I should give her to any other man; stay with me.” So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her..."(Samuel-1 18:27)

11.Abigail: "Now the name of the man [was] Nabal; and the name of his wife Abigail: and [she was] a woman of good understanding, and of a beautiful countenance: but the man [was] churlish and evil in his doings; and he [was] of the house of Caleb."(Samuel-1 25:3)

12.Zipporah:"Jethro, the priest of Midian, Moses' father-in-law, heard of all that God had done for Moses and for Israel his people, how the Lord had brought Israel out of Egypt. Now Jethro, Moses' father-in-law, had taken Zipporah, Moses' wife, after he had sent her home, along with her two sons. The name of the one was Gershom (for he said, “I have been a sojourner in a foreign land”), and the name of the other, Eliezer (for he said, “The God of my father was my help, and delivered me from the sword of Pharaoh”). Jethro, Moses' father-in-law, came with his sons and his wife to Moses in the wilderness where he was encamped at the mountain of God."(Exodus:18:1-24)

[whumprecs]

List of Whump for Republic of Doyle

Republic of Doyle is a Canadian comedy/drama show about private detective, Jake Doyle, and his family, which consists of his father, Malachy - a retired cop; Rose, his step mother; his niece, Tinny; and his Found Family younger brother, Des. It takes place in St. John’s, Newfoundland, and while a lot of the injuries are played for comedic effect, most of them are not. In almost every, single episode of a 6 year run, someone is injured. 

If not specified who is being injured, it’s Jake. 

1x1 hit in the face with door

1x2 punched by ex wife

1x3 beat up, kidnapped, broken ribs, hit in head with baseball bat, threatened at gunpoint

1x4 kneed in gut

1x5 punched in face, punched in neck, manhandled, punched by dad in face 

1x6 covered in blood from being in front of someone who shot themselves, hit in face, knocked out, kidnapped, hands tied, pistol whipped, thrown in prison

1x7 kicked in knee, threatened at knife point, held at gunpoint, pushed to the ground, 

1x8 fist fight, punched, kicked, slammed into wall

1x9 shot at, Des shot in bullet proof vest

1x10 manhandled, punched, hit with piece of metal, 

1x11 Des hit in head, punched in face, 

1x12 Christian covered in blood, Mal in hospital, 

2x1 bar fight, kicked in nards, held at gunpoint, shot at, 

2x2 slammed face first into car, undercover in prison, manhandled, face slammed into phone, karate chop to throat, mild concussion, prison fight, Des hit in the head with pipe, 

2x3 none

2x4 hit by car

2x5 almost blown up

2x6 fight, falls in open grave, almost blown up, Leslie shot

2x7 electrocuted, 

2x8 Des tazed twice, after effect, Jake: knocked out with tire iron, kidnapped, minor concussion and stumbling around, knocked out with bottle over the head, tied to a chair and beaten, held at gunpoint, emotional whump telling the woman he loves to get lost to save her life, taken hostage

2x9 Des whump: memory problems, black eye, almost shot by cops, emotional whump, passes out from needle phobia after being stabbed in the arm, drugged against his will

2x10 beat up with baton by cop, beaten up by prize fighter,  

2x11 pistol whipped,  kidnapped, tied to chair

2x12 fist fight, knocked out, concussion 

2x13 Des knocked out, kidnapped, breaks leg; Jake kidnapped by former partner, forced to rob a bank, 

3x1 fight, punched in the face, kidnapped, knocked out, framed for murder, tied to chair, almost blown up, shot in leg

3x2 Des hit by car; Jake pistol whipped in face

3x3 concussed, punched in face

3x4 hit with bottle, punched in face, punched again

3x5 drugged against his will, kidnapped, tied to chair, out of it from higher dosage

3x6 accidentally kidnapped, flung around from back of armored vehicle, shot, almost asphyxiated, resulting fever, hit in wounded shoulder, passes out, taken to hospital, used as a human shield, falls roughly on injured shoulder, gets woozy from blood loss, handcuffed to bed, hugged harshly, wincing, passes out from blood loss, back in hospital

3x7 hit with bat, accidentally holds up a bank

3x8 dies in Leslie's dream, prison fight, passes out, 

3x9 hit over head with bottle, kidnapped at gunpoint, chloroformed, knocked out with bedpan

3x10 taken hostage,  held at gunpoint, held at knife point, taken hostage again, fight, knocked out, punched in face, 

3x11 Des knocked out, kidnapped

3x12 bar fight,  choked, fight in a gym, punched through door, held at gunpoint, pistol whipped 

3x13 Des shot

4x1 Des on crutches 

4x2 Des taken hostage,  hit in face by accident; brawl, hit with bat, knocked out with bat, taped to chair, tortured 

4x3 Des arm on fire, Jake tied up, Jake knocked out with frying pan, Des knocked out twice and suffering concussion whole episode

4x4 knocked out with pipe

4x5 bottle over the head by Leslie, knocked out 

4x6 arrested 

4x7 punched in face, fight, hit with rifle, hostage, fight with former partner

4x8 Des knocked out , Des kidnapped; brief fight

4x9 kidnapped,  doused in gasoline and almost blown up/set on fire

4x10 hit by car, broken ribs, nurses them for the whole episode, nightmares

4x11 Taken hostage in precinct by bomber along with Tinny and Des

4x12 prison break, shot at, fist fight, almost stabbed, 

4x13 knocked out and almost thrown from a roof. kidnapped and thrown in a shipping container and shipped to Mexico

5x1 fight, tied up, arrested by la policia, knocked out, stuck in Mexican prison for 2 months, fight, almost shivved,  blindfolded, knocked out, chained to steering wheel, almost crushed in compactor, 

5x2 drugged, punched 

5x3 almost blown up, handcuffed to fence

5x4 brained with a tire iron and thrown in the trunk, 

5x5 none

5x6 drugged for half the episode, injured arm from multiple injections, hit with a tire iron

5x7 electrocuted, taken hostage, shot at running through the woods

5x8 taken hostage in robbery, 

5x9 punched in the gut

5x10 Des kidnapped, gagged with grenade

5x11 Malachy shot, Jake hit in face with paint can, 

5x12 car accident, knocked out, kidnapped, 

5x13 held hostage, 

5x14 maced, 

5x15 almost blown up, framed for murder

5x16 Leslie buried alive ; Jake drugged, kidnapped, hit in face with gun, tasered, fist fight, hit in face with wrench 

6x1 prison yard fight, almost burned alive

6x2 none

6x3 none

6x4 kidnapped, tied to chair, manhandled, tied to rafters and beaten,  

6x5 none

6x6 knocked out with iron; Des gassed

6x7 none

6x8 none

6x9 almost blown up, stabbed with broken bottle, Des beaten to pulp, 

6x10 still bleeding from stab wound, Des still in hospital from beating, passes out from blood loss, Malachy tied to chair and beaten, Leslie shot and in a fight, Jake fight, punched in injury, 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Idk if you do child readers or not but if you don't mind could I get Utsuro, Mikado and/or Nikei x child!reader? Sorry for bothering you-

I do! I got a real soft/funny idea for this--

.........

"E-Excuse me, sir?"

Feeling a slight tug on his blazer, Utsuro blinked as he looked down to see who it was. And he saw you, a small child who seemed to be elementary school-aged. Though you looked as if you've been on the streets for quite some time.

"Yes?"

"I just..w-wanna say thank you for helping me. I don't know how you..c-calmed those dogs down but...you saved me." You stammered.

This man did save your life after you were cornered by large rabid dogs. He just showed up and suddenly they were laying down, perfectly calm, even letting you pet them.

"...don't mention it." He responded in his usual cold way, waiting for you to be scared off by his lingering stare.

But you weren't.

"Where are you off to?"

"Not sure. I just wander this earth without purpose."

"I...feel the same way.." You remarked, letting go of his shirt. "Could I..?"

Utsuro was quite surprised by your request, and especially at the gratitude you expressed--which is something he's never received in all his childhood.

But as much as he wanted to be on his own, he saw you and realized...you were just like him: having nowhere to go and lacking purpose.

So he sighed, picking you up effortlessly. "Perhaps we can search for a purpose together." He decided, before leaving the alleyway. "The name's Utsuro..not that you would care but-"

"I'm [y/n]..th-thank you again, Utsu. But...can I call you Dad?"

The man paused for a moment, and during that split second-silence he felt genuinely touched...but he buried the feelings and shrugged. "If it makes you happy."

You grinned and clung to him as you continued on your way.

Unbeknownst to either of you, a certain journalist had witnessed everything unfold, taking notes.

........

"You better be serious about this Nikei. Don't guide us towards false hope with some ridiculous narrative--"

"I am serious! I saw him with my own two eyes!" Nikei slammed his notepad down onto the table. "He helped some kid who goes by [y/n] and...they're accompanying him now. I don't know where but..we'll have an easier chance of finding him. I don't care what happens to that street rat."

"Oh?" The wizard's mask formed a confused expression. "Why so hostile about an innocent child? Is it perhaps...you see yourself in them? Do they reflect the way you have grown up--"

"SHUT UP!!" Nikei's eyes were glowing red at this point. "That brat doesn't know the true power of his divine luck...and they aren't worthy of hoarding it all to themselves!"

"Ooooh..temper, temper.." Mikado tutted, joyful to know he struck a nerve. "Well, you should probably get to know this [y/n] before anything else. So go get a "scoop" on their connection to him. They're not a mere obstacle. Surely they know more about him than we do, no?"

".....you tried burning down two orphanages and suddenly you care about this kid's safety?"

"People change, Nikei. I see those extreme methods aren't necessary anymore. Now be on your best behavior out there. Don't wanna scare them off, you know."

The journalist gritted his teeth, despising the way Mikado treated him like a child. But he just collected his notepad and stormed off.

..........

"So..if you just want something, you can get it instantly?"

"More or less..that's my divine luck." Utsuro shrugged, sitting back on the sofa. "But it's not as fun as one would think."

"How so?" Your curiosity was seemingly endless as you sat beside him. "I thought..it'd make you happier. I know I'd be happy."

Even though he had nothing but the clothes on his back, he managed to get a small flat for you two. It was temporary, but at least he had a reason to rest after so much wandering.

He just looked at you for a few moments. Indeed, he remembered how naive he was back then--thinking of his luck as a gift, when in fact it became a great curse.

"I used to think that too. But..do you wish to learn why I'm like this?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

And he proceeded to explain how he grew up with his divine luck, becoming apathetic after learning that there's no process to what he does--like if he wanted to drive, he already knew how to without taking any tests.

So nothing had any meaning to him anymore.

He left out his attempts to off himself, for obvious reasons, and went on to say how he goes around helping people..but it's merely to pass the time.

By the time he finished, you could only frown as you hugged him. "I'm sorry.." Was all you could say.

"Don't be." He put his arm around you. "I'm..gonna take a walk. Wanna come?"

"I'm okay. My legs aren't sore anymore but.."

"That's fine. I'm just going to the convenience store. Anything you want?"

After you told him your favorite snack, he got up and grabbed the key, departing for the store.

For some time you just watched television, though your mind kept wandering back to Utsuro and his story. At least you know understood why he was the way he was.

But your musings were interrupted by a door knock. 'Is he back already?' You got up and went to the door, only to open it and see a completely different man there, with black hair and dressed in a sandy-brown coat and hat.

"Why hello!" He greeted with a smile. "Is uh..your dad home?"

"What do you want?" You answered warily.

The man seemed taken aback by your coldness, though he forced his grin. "Well I'm a friend of his! Nikei Yomiuri! Y'know? Ultimate Journalist--"

"Never heard of you before."

Ouch. That was a stab to the heart.

"I-I'll just ignore that comment..and get the point." He sighed. "I've heard of his talent of luck and I'm hoping to get an interview. Rumor has it he's helped a lot of people in his life, including you! So if you can tell me where he is I--G-GAH!!!"

With a swift kick to the nards, you scowled at him as he crumpled to the ground almost immediately. "He said he had no friends..so you're lying. I'm not letting anyone use my dad's luck for themselves anymore! Get lost."

Nikei was mumbling a string of unintelligible curses, but he managed to get up and walk away, finally leaving you alone.

You huffed and closed the door, returning to the sofa. Only a few minutes later did you hear it unlock as you saw Utsuro return with some groceries.

"Hey, kid." After setting the bags on the table, he turned around just in time to see you hug him once more. "Hm? What is it this time?"

"Nothing..I just...I promise I won't be greedy with your luck. And I won't let anyone else be, too."

He blinked a few times, stunned. But he smiled just a tiny bit as he reached down to pat your head.

"..thank you."

Finally, there was something in this boring, dull world worth living for: And that was you.

..........

"So..what have you learned?"

"Th-That goddamn..piece of shit...a-asshole has one hell of a kick! I swear to fucking god I'm gonna--!"

"Ahaha! If only I was there to see it. But it seems we have a true child of Utsuro on our hands."

[bluefurcape]

Fic Writer Review

ty for the tag @murd3rm1ttens !!

1. How many do you have on Ao3?

17....

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

178,029 words. (buries my face in my hands) and yet i can’t force myself to finish writing my book.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

on ao3 it’s two. One is the nards and the other is hp. on ff i bounced around between ATLA, rurouni kenshin, and inuyasha but always just a chapter or two then immediately abandoned.

4. What are your top 5 five by kudos?

Heavy Reading - 1629 kudos

Another Life - 1578 kudos

Disruptions & Balance - 678 kudos

Death and the Blossom - 504 kudos

Marked By Fate - 481 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes! I’m not a very chatty person, so I never really know what to say in reply except AHHH THANK YOU FOR LEAVING A COMMENT!! If they’re super sweet and insightful, I’m like, wow that’s so deep is that really something I wrote??

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe Regret? but @mouseymightymarvellous fixed it. What remains was pretty angsty too.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No, but maybe some day.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

The only real hate was that g.o.d. weirdo

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. Tends to be pretty vanilla because that’s my boring taste lol. I haven’t delved into kinks or anything.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No and I hope it never ever happens.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once! An earlier version of down, down, down was translated to Russian a long time ago.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Maybe Regret counts? Because maus wrote the aftermath of it.

13. What is your all time favorite ship?

kakasaku baybee. But I also really like dramione...................zutara is great too.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

maybe Strange Allies. I’ve obviously fallen out of love with hp for various reasons, but maybe some day i’ll adapt the premise for something else.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Honestly I have no clue anymore. Maybe it’s plot twists and dialogue.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

description and characterization please let me die. also i definitely lose interest really quickly because it’s not living up to whatever i think it should be. though i can never define what it should be or how to make it better. writing conflict is extremely difficult for me because honestly i avoid it like the plague in my life.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Seems okay to me as long as it’s correct and not gibberish lol.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

.........it was in fact hp. I was 11 i think and I wrote about 2 perfect veela twin ocs. Like a paragraph and I quit. Actually uploaded to ff was inuyasha and rurouni kenshin.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Maybe down, down, down

[ragewrites]

time blizzards: we carve up the body of doe-like December, bury ourselves in the sweet flesh, in the ribs, a heart like bunched grapes, like vines keeping warm in the tomb of the chest. above, the New Year rises, a slow, southern star. o: my grief, with such soft hands I shall do my love now: with such soft wants, silken as the swell of the apple, as the skins that septa the citrus, the rare opal of the ammonite. o: I shall be an altar-builder in it, an architect of temples, a mason for the precious stone of the eyes: I shall be visions, heavy and holy and clothed in frankfumes, like the censer with the nard. I shall be the mountain: I shall be the pastures it guards, green and endless as the athanasy which man calls Dusk. I shall be every good thing the scriptures have forgotten: I shall be tender in my waiting, all dark fire, earth still darker, water at the end of the world, washing your face. I shall be lovely. lifeful.

  gutfish prophecy   december 31st, 2019  / /  lianna schreiber

[alo-piss-trancy]

We've Got a Long Way to Go My Dear

(( Reblogging an old fic or two while I finish up drafts but I'm making a post for it in my new format for the Aesthetic (tm)

Also this is lowkey Witchy's fault for dragging me straight back into umbrella hell and reminding me I wrote this lol. Expect more fics once I clear some from my plate bc I still have drafts in my files

'Things haven't gone according to plan, but Har/old believes he can salvage it. All he and Van/ya have to do is get through the journey from the hospital to the cabin in the woods. Unfortunately, it seems life is a sadistic fuck who's determined to throw as many bumps into the road as it can, just to piss him off.

But what else is new?

And anyways, aren't hardships what drew him and Vanya towards each other in the first place? '

~~~

No one asked for a Ha/rold Jenki/ns character study/missing scene disguised as a Vany/a omo fic but that's what I have to offer lmao. There's not really anything to say besides that. ))

PREVIEW: Vany/a took a breath, cringing. "I'd like to go to the restroom." she confessed, her face flushing a lovely shade of pink.

He couldn't help cracking a smile, if only to avoid rolling his eyes. "You'd like to, or you actually need to? There's a difference there."

"Leo/nard..." Van/ya groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Sorry, sorry. I couldn't help teasing you a little." He reached over to rub her back with one hand, and after stewing in her embarrassment for a moment, she carefully shrugged him off and glanced back up at him, returning her hands to her lap and interlacing her fingers.

"So, can we stop somewhere soon?"

Honestly? He didn't want to bother. Even if he'd been willing to get the shit kicked out of him, that didn't change the fact that his entire body was killing him. Every breath felt like it was impaling his ribcage, his lungs and chest ached, his head was pounding, and his eye socket was throbbing like a bitch. And despite what he'd told her earlier, he really was tired. Physically, and also tired of dealing with her shit. Va/nya was a lot of work, and even if it was work he'd gladly taken on, and would be willing to take on all over again, it was draining. 

If he could go through all of this, then surely she could suck up this miniscule inconvenience in comparison. Van/ya needed to learn the meaning of willpower anyways. She had such a habit of giving up, cowering under pressure... this little test would help strengthen her.

"You know, we'll be back at the cabin in about forty minutes..." he mused, glancing at the dashboard clock. "Can it wait?"

Van/ya's eyebrows flicked up in the mirror, and she shifted in her seat. Whether that discomfort was from her urges or the patronizing question he'd just asked her, he didn't know. Frankly, it didn't matter. "Um, I mean..." That clearly hadn't been the answer she was expecting from him, and she tried to work through her shock. "I can if we have to, but... if we're already gonna be passing stuff anyway, couldn't we just-"

"I don't think it would be a good idea to stop." he interrupted, scanning the road around them. With a grunt, he leaned out the window to adjust the outer mirror, finally catching the metallic gleam of a grill and pipes. Far behind them, a half-semi truck was chugging along. Their first visitor in many miles, but of course, Va/nya had been too distracted to notice anything during the drive so far.

"Why not?" A hint of skepticism he would soon snuff out before it had the chance to bloom. There was never any reason for V/anya to question him, and he wasn't going to let that start now.

"Do you see the truck behind us?"

"Way in the back?"

"It's been tailing us for the last twenty minutes."

Read it on AO3 through THIS POST

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Fri., Feb. 14, 2020

St Auxentius of Bithynia

Saint Auxentius, by origin a Syrian, served at the court of the emperor Theodosius the Younger (418-450). He was known as a virtuous, learned and wise man, and he was, moreover, a friend of many of the pious men of his era.

Distressed by worldly vanity, Saint Auxentius was ordained to the holy priesthood, and then received monastic tonsure. After this he went to Bithynia and found a solitary place on Mount Oxia, not far from Chalcedon, and there he began the life of a hermit (This mountain was afterwards called Mt. Auxentius). The place of the saint’s efforts was discovered by shepherds seeking their lost sheep. They told others about him, and people began to come to him for healing. Saint Auxentius healed many of the sick and the infirm in the name of the Lord.

In the year 451 Saint Auxentius was invited to the Fourth Ecumenical Council at Chalcedon, where he denounced the Eutychian and Nestorian heresies. Familiar with Holy Scripture and learned in theology, Saint Auxentius easily bested those opponents who disputed with him. After the end of the Council, Saint Auxentius returned to his solitary cell on the mountain. With his spiritual sight he saw the repose of Saint Simeon the Stylite (459) from a great distance.

Saint Auxentius died about the year 470, leaving behind him disciples and many monasteries in the region of Bithynia. He was buried in the Monastery of Saint Hypatius at Rufiananas, Syria.

See Saints of the Day from OCA

1 John2:7-17

7 [a]Brethren, I write no new commandment to you, but an old commandment which you have had from the beginning. The old commandment is the word which you heard [b]from the beginning. 8 Again, a new commandment I write to you, which thing is true in Him and in you, because the darkness is passing away, and the true light is already shining.

9 He who says he is in the light, and hates his brother, is in darkness until now. 10 He who loves his brother abides in the light, and there is no cause for stumbling in him. 11 But he who hates his brother is in darkness and walks in darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes.

Their Spiritual State

12 I write to you, little children, Because your sins are forgiven you for His name’s sake. 13 I write to you, fathers, Because you have known Him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, Because you have overcome the wicked one. I write to you, little children, Because you have known the Father. 14 I have written to you, fathers, Because you have known Him who is from the beginning. I have written to you, young men, Because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, And you have overcome the wicked one.

Do Not Love the World

15 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. 17 And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever.

Footnotes:

1 John 2:7 NU Beloved

1 John 2:7 NU omits from the beginning

Mark 14: 3-9

The Anointing at Bethany

3 And being in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, as He sat at the table, a woman came having an alabaster flask of very costly [a]oil of spikenard. Then she broke the flask and poured it on His head. 4 But there were some who were indignant among themselves, and said, “Why was this fragrant oil wasted? 5 For it might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they criticized[b] her sharply.

6 But Jesus said, “Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for Me.7 For you have the poor with you always, and whenever you wish you may do them good; but Me you do not have always. 8 She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint My body for burial. 9 Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

Footnotes:

Mark 14:3 Perfume of pure nard

Mark 14:5 scolded

New King James Version (NKJV) Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. All rights reserved. From Biblegateway.com

[libidomechanica]

And Sleep

And Sleep! “The stain,  but say, but we, unworthy  wife, and to light  of any thine eye look  out!” The Bright with  amorous ills that  he had chance came, he restlesse  Rosalind, for  our reverence;  and I, thou dost shine, with  convinced. or  any man had crossed the  guilty of what  you wilt renewe, close-stool  so cased; Say, if thus  youth, mounting rose; but lingering  hoar-frost wets there  was fresh trees born  of the trusty  maid more did so, for  Lamia, now hole gaped  for all you pleasing  farthest Sleep! How a 

restored the speed to  do, into  cities, and fresh,  my narration the  morals, and came to  advance as high defiance.  And so sore ills,  and all the rose  to give their fashiond  to him with  thy skill wandering  high inspired! Like a  sun-flowers shall approachd through  numbing come to clear  again of deaths  foot. Part saturn and thousand  deformities!  Her kirtle to!  Don Jose dim staring eyes,  and truant husband alien  tears can mend;  and yet dear― except to  lie; he help! their early  stood, for so old  and gibe the wind 

mate, and therefore? Matters  worse, perfect bliss  Of Neptunes feet might  striking not occurrence. Even 

sevenfold storm, and  worse he forehead, eyelids from  the knave— the  course of snarlings of  Lust, like again, 

and light Salmacis, her  breast I have disdainfully  quick moved eit her he got his eye, that  we watching green: fire  was upon the  night me half-girlish  billow-ridge, and hands.  How the rope, and  for a childish  day on a dead man  were most uneasy  virtuous wonderful, and  hers had done: and  cleanse his lady elf, some  boy and pitying crowd  love of the swell  as I: for much  what a shelter oft  them till. To whom  her robes the approbation  stain my honour,  virtuous wife can go;  and then someone along  his Eyes, was  buried with the  patron. Grief to  find that stern w ith it is very  mud cried, and all inertial  frame but would eer lovers  of costliest nard.

[jfastereft]

"SATURDAY! Party Day?"  a poem  April 20, 2019 (The Saturday, before Easter!!)

 It-was-Saturday in-the-Holy-Land,     and folks were feelin' "down,"

For "Lordy! Our-Lord-Jesus     is-no-more-to-be-foun[d];

His body, just-a-since-yesterday, got buried - in The Tomb!

Crucifixion-can-be-a-DRAG!       It brings us lots of doom!"

 So, Little Mary, Mary-Contrary - [usually] contrary-to-The-Max,

Came up with "a picnic plan," to-get-us-out-o'-our-shacks!

She gathered wine - and cheese and bread,

And said: "COME ON!"   That's what she said;

"Let's go and sup - outside His tomb!"

And, The-Magdalena at-her loom,

Said: "Yeah, you jokers!!  Mary's right!

Jesus-would-say-that-we're-TOO-UPTIGHT!

We need 'a break!' from mourning hard!"

So all THE BAND - got food and nard,

And doth proceed-eth-ed to-have A BLAST,

Outside the tomb! A-real RE-past!

They ate and drank - into The Night,

Passing-eth-ed-OUT! There-upon-that-site!

 Then, Roman soldiers - collected-them-all,

And-took-'em-to-The-Drunk-Tank-where-The-Apostle-Paul,

Would (eventually) work - and-plot   to-kill-'em-good!

(Years-from-then, of-course!  Years-from-then-he-would!)

Yet          (long, eerie pause!) -

As they slumbered, vomit-smeared,

Inside-The-Jail (and some-were-pretty-"teared"),

Thinking - of Their Savior    To-them, he-was LOST,

And-what-they-WOULD-'A'-DONE,    now, at-any-cost,

To have Him there, back-from-The-Grave,          (another long, eerie pause!)

 MOONLIGHT DANCED!!!!!!       off-o'-rock-and-cave!                         :) - Oo-oo-oo!

And-a-subtle-scratching!!! was slightly heard,

By lizard, insects - and - even a bird!*

There-was-a-tiny-"stirring,"        for IT-was-CLOSE,

To-The-Resurrection                   - of "The Gnos[s]!"**

fin   <3           https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntDnwBiORu8                  

* - The Blue Bird of Happiness, of course!

** - The "Gnosis," intuitive-knowing, stressed by early mystics known as "Gnostics," who were persecuted & killed off, for suggesting each soul has the capacity to transcend this conditional realm, overcoming illusions of  life, disintegration and high gas prices!!  A remnant escaped to France, wearing no pants & on Sabbath, they-do-a-s-x-y-dance!  

[kairi-chan]

Hi there!I love your fanfics so much. Thanks for them. A prompt. Sarada gets injured during a mission hardly but hides it from her parents and everyone. Until she send on a mission that only her could do but after returning back, she passed out in front of naruto and it was naruto's turn to send some sense into her and how is she important to him.

Title: Importance of Rest

Genre: Comfort / Family 

Rating: K 

A/N: Thank you, darling. Writing for everyone is a pleasure. 

May you always remember that you are precious, and important. 

Naruto sat behind his desk and typed away. There were stacks upon stacks of paperwork, like always. However things were getting busier. More and more mission requests kept flooding in, and there were less and less shinobi who were applying and graduating. It was a struggle, as he was stretching his staff too thin. Even Shikamaru and Sakura were back on the mission roster, on top of their regular and daily responsibilities. It was just that bad. 

The Hokage gritted his teeth as he read over the mission logs again. His own apprentice–Sarada–had been going on back-to-back missions alone, even when she should have been part of a four-man squad. She had done three in a row, and skipped her routine medical checks and debriefing because she had another mission that was far more urgent than the previous one. Naruto knew his apprentice was tough, and resilient, but she shouldn’t have been allowed to skip her checkups. 

Once the sun had set, and most of his staff in the office had gone, Naruto decided to call it a night, and made his own way home. He looked at the clock before he left, it was already nearing midnight. He closed his eyes and sighed. His wife and daughter would have surely already been asleep. Ever since Boruto moved out with Sarada, his wife often lamented that it had been a little less lively in their home. It prompted Naruto to try to be home for her more often. Tonight just wasn’t one of those nights. 

He walked through the lamp lit streets, and tried to keep his thoughts away from work. He spotted a few shinobi jumping from roof to roof. There were some who just came back, but there were others who were only departing. It relaxed Naruto to know that his comrades were dedicated to serving and protecting the village. He turned his attention back to the street, but there was one chakra signature he recognized, and immediately ran to. Sensing her presence, no matter how faint, was second nature to him. She was his godchild, afterall. 

“Sarada!” His blue eyes widened, as he took on her lithe form. Even at eighteen, he still saw her as that toddler who liked to pull on his white cape and would bravely ask to try on his hat. 

She held herself up on the street light with one hand, and gripped a mission scroll with the other. There was no serious injury on her, but the bruises and shallow cuts, matched up with her severely depleted chakra reserves were alarming. “Nanadaime-sama. Good… evening.” she didn’t even have the strength to look up at him, but she tried her best to smile. 

Naruto grounded his teeth together and walked closer to her. “What happened to you? Why aren’t you at the hospital?” 

She weakly held up the scroll. “I got another. It’s easy enough,” she laughed nervously. “Just delivering a scroll over to Tea Country.” 

“It can wait.” Naruto pulled out his best Hokage voice. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” 

She shook her head and did her best to stand up straight. “I have another B-rank with Mitsuki after I deliver this.” 

The Hokage merely scooped her up. She felt so light in his arms. She squeaked and blushed furiously. “You do know that Sakura-chan is going to kill me if I don’t take you there right now, right?” He grinned. 

“P-put me down, Nanadaime-sama! I can walk!”

Too late, Naruto was already jumping up on the rooftops.

“This is all your fault, you old man! You worked her too hard, ya know!” 

“I didn’t tell her to skip her checkups!” 

Sarada slowly blinked her eyes open and found herself staring at a white ceiling. “So noisy,” she muttered. 

“Ah, you’re awake!” Boruto rushed to her side and looked at her face. His blue eyes were filled with worry. Shortly, another pair of blue eyes were staring at her, too. 

“You passed out before we even got to the hospital,” Naruto informed her. “How are you feeling?” 

“Horrible, obviously!” Boruto stuck his tongue out at his father. “What kind of a question is that?” 

The older Uzumaki pursed his lips. Sarada could have sworn she saw the vein on his head throbbing. She let out a light chuckle and closed her eyes again. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ll be up in a few minutes to continue my missions.” 

“No you’re not,” Naruto said firmly. “You’re going to stay here and rest for a week.” 

“What?” Sarada shot up, and felt her head spin. Boruto caught her and adjusted her bed so she could lean back. “I’m fine,” she insisted stubbornly. 

“Good grief,” Naruto smirked. “You’re even more stubborn than Sasuke.” 

She pouted and glared at her mentor. 

“Listen, Sarada. I appreciate all you’ve done, but you need to rest. We can’t lose an important asset like you,” Naruto explained. 

“You won’t,” she assured him. 

Naruto shook his head. “Let me rephrase that. I won’t allow my goddaughter to overwork and hurt herself.” He locked his blue eyes on her dark ones and continued, “you’re important. Not only to me, but to Boruto, your mother, father, and everyone else. You have to take care of yourself, too.” 

Sarada looked away and let out a light, “hmph.” 

Boruto smirked and forced her to face him. “We know you’re doing all of this work for us, but taking care of yourself is not only for you, but for us too, ya know?” He gave her a bright grin that sent her heart fluttering. 

Naruto grinned until his eyes disappeared and added, “don’t think for a second that no one was worried for you. Sakura-chan’s downstair’s probably punching the living daylights out of the staff in charge of clearing shinobi for another mission.” He laughed. 

Sarada sweat dropped. That did sound like something her Mama would do. She felt heat creep up to her cheeks. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll rest.” 

“Good!” Naruto laughed again. “I’m giving Boruto the week off too, so he can watch over you.” 

“YES!” Boruto exclaimed happily. “Looks like you use that head of yours after all, old man.” He smirked. 

Naruto gave his son an evil grin and said before he left the room, “don’t think for a second I’m not going to bury you in missions once your days off are over.” 

A/N: Hihi. I love Nards. I’m sorry, I had to sneak in some BoruSara in there. ^^ 

You can read more of my stories in my masterpost, or visit my FFnet!

[ownweapon]

there’s  a  couple  of  things  that  are  always  true:  dolls  reads  her  like  a  kid’s  book  in  large  print,  and  he’s  good  at  giving  her  space,  when  he  thinks  she  needs  it.  most  of  the  time,  it’s  a  fair  judgement,  and  yeah,  for  anyone  else  wynonna’s  deflecting  and  -  not  invulnerable,  but  trying  out  a  lousy  impression  of  it.  for  dolls,  though  -  wynonna  curls  up  to  him,  her  head  pressed  to  his  chest,  feeling  out  his  heartbeat  under  her  ear.  (  making  sure  he’s  all  there,  after  -  after  bulshar  made  her  bury  him.  )

                  quietly:  ‘  every  time  i  think  i’ve  got  this  curse  thing  figured  out,  something  new  comes  and  whacks  me  in  the  ‘nards.  ’

@ownagent​.

[papa-sheartministry]

*Jesus at Bethany* 1. Six days before the Passover festival, Jesus went to Bethany, the village where Lazarus lived. He was the man who had been dead. But Jesus had raised him, to make him alive again. 2. Some friends prepared a special meal there for Jesus. Martha gave out the food, and Lazarus sat among the visitors, with Jesus. 3. Then Mary brought a pound of very expensive oil that had a very nice smell. The oil is called nard. She poured it over Jesus' feet and then she made his feet dry again with her hair. The nice smell of the oil filled the whole house. 4. Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus' disciples, was there. He was the man who would sell Jesus to Jesus' enemies. 5. Judas said, ‘We could have sold this oil for 300 coins. That is as much money as someone would get for a year's work. Then we could have given that money to poor people.’ 6. He did not say this because he really wanted to help the poor people. No, he said it because he wanted the money himself. He kept the bag of money, and sometimes he took money from it for himself. 7. But Jesus said, ‘Do not stop her! She has kept this oil safe until now. She wanted it for the day when they will bury my dead body. 8. You will always have poor people with you. But you will not always have me with you.’ 9. By this time, a large crowd of Jews had heard the news that Jesus was at Bethany. So, they came there to see him. They came also to see Lazarus, because Jesus had made him alive again. 10. So the leaders of the priests decided to kill not only Jesus, but Lazarus too. 11. They wanted to do that because many Jews now refused to obey them. Instead, these Jews believed in Jesus because of what he had done for Lazarus. *Jesus Goes Into Jerusalem* 12. The next day, a large crowd of people were in Jerusalem for the festival. They heard the news that Jesus was on the way there. 13. So, they took branches from palm trees and they went out to meet Jesus. They were shouting, ‘We praise you! Great is the king who comes with the authority of the Lord God. God is good to the king of Israel!’ Please Read The Remaining Verses https://www.instagram.com/p/CZbwWcroCQb/?utm_medium=tumblr

[hannahindie]

Country Roads, Take Me Home: Chapter 7

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Beth (OC) Word Count: 1,777 Warnings: Language, extreme Beth sass (I love this woman. Is that being full of myself since I made her up? OH well. I love her.), canon violence. A/N: Hey ya’ll! Welcome to Chapter 7 of Country Roads! I’m sorry for the delay in getting a new chapter up; between work, fall/winter challenges, being sick, buying a house, and deaths in the family, it’s been a crazy last three months of the year. This chapter is a little shorter than the rest of them, but I loved it and I hope you do too! We’re quickly coming to the end of this story, and it has truly been a labor of love.

My beautiful writing soulmate @trexrambling beta’d this for me. Thank you, my dear, for not just helping me with wording and grammar, but encouraging me and just being wonderful in general. Thanks, darlin’. :) “I will miss Beth once this series is over.” Me too, girl. Me too.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

A/N 2: I have taken some liberties with the construction of the basement, how large it is, and if there is an exit to the morgue or not. I don’t think that is actually a thing, but for the purposes of this story...well, I put one there. So if any of you are familiar with the building, disclaimer. lol

A chill went through me, and I shook my head, “No, it’s impossible. I just talked to both of them. Dean was scared of the dolls from the haunted house, and he wandered off and left Beth and I alone…” I trailed off when I realized that, though there were things Dean didn’t like, he never ever screamed like he did earlier…at least, not unless ghost sickness was involved. I looked at Sam with wide eyes, “I wasn’t talking to Beth or Dean…was I?”

Before Sam could answer, a scream sounded through the dark basement. A scream that sounded very much like Beth.

Shit.

Dean woke up slowly and groaned as he shifted his head on the hard surface he was laying on. “What the hell…?” he mumbled to himself as he tried to sit up. Rough rope dug into his arms and around his chest, and he swore again. From his vantage point, all he could see were peeling walls and filthy, cracked windows.

“Beth? Where are you?” Silence greeted him, and he rolled his eyes as he began wiggling against the rope, hoping to loosen enough to slip out of it. “Seriously, you’re going to choose this very moment to be quiet? C’mon, say something so I know where you are.” A moan sounded from the other side of the room, and he breathed a sigh of relief; at least she was alive. “That’s right, sweetheart, wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. Are you tied up, too?” There was a mumbled response and then silence fell again. “Beth?”

“I said, first of all, keep your comments to yourself about how much I talk. Two, yes, I’m tied to a pipe.”

Dean chuckled, “Aww, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just making sure you were alive and well, gotta rile you up somehow.” He grunted as he strained against the rope, which didn’t seem to want to loosen up. “Shit...how tight is that rope? Mine isn’t coming loose.”

“It’s pretty damn tight.” She groaned, and Dean could hear a shuffling sound as she tried to work free of the rope, “What the hell happened? My head feels like I went to one of Billy Johnson’s keggers and drank enough jungle juice to go home with his brother.”

Dean snorted, “I don’t know what the hell that means, Beth.”

“It’s not good, Dean. It’s not good.” The shuffling stopped, and Beth sighed, “This is ridiculous. This is not how I pictured my day going. I mean, I figured after everything I’ve heard about you and Sam, we’d have this solved in a hurry and I’d be halfway to sloshed with at least one Winchester by now. Instead, I’m trussed up tighter than a hog headin’ to the slaughterhouse, and it’s not even the good kind.” She sighed, “That wasn’t really the best turn of phrase though, was it?”  

“No, not really.” A loud crash from behind Dean startled him, and he pulled tighter against the ropes. “What was that? Can you see anything?”

“I can’t see anything, Dean. It’s too dark...ah shit.”

Dean stopped struggling, “What? Ah shit what?”

“We’re in the morgue. ...What are you lying on?”

“I don’t freaking know!” He lifted his head as high as it would go and looked around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see what he was lying on, and he had the sudden feeling that it wasn’t going to end well. He was secured to a metal slab that had been pulled out from one of the cold storage units. “Do these cold storage things actually function? Like, do they move or close or...you know, turn on?”

“...I mean, they close, but there isn’t electricity in this part of the building, so you should be fine.”

“Well, that’s good to know-” Dean was interrupted by the metal slab slamming back into the cold storage unit and the door as it shut with a bone rattling clang. “Beth! DAMMIT!” The container was pitch black, but Dean still squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the feeling of its walls closing in on him. “Beth!” Panic was beginning to set in, and all he could think about was when he'd been buried, digging through the dirt as he tried to escape his flimsy, wooden prison. “BETH!”

“I’m okay! I’m almost loose! Hang on, Dean!” He heard a cheer as Beth finally broke free of her restraints and hurried footsteps as she ran to where he was. The door rattled, but stayed shut. “Son of a bitch! It’s stuck. Let me...just, hold on, okay?”

“Like I have much choice,” he mumbled to himself. The hair on his arms stood up, and he groaned. “You need to hurry, I think they’re coming back,” he shouted, grimacing as his voice bounced off the rusted metal.

“Hold your damn horses, Winchester! I will be right there. Good Lord, it’s not like I came prepared to rescue the damsel in distress.”

“Excuse me-”

“Awwe, honey, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just lookin’ for something heavy...ah ha! This will work!” Dean heard the scrape of metal against concrete and wondered what she was getting ready to do. “Now, I need you to close your eyes, sweet cheeks, and turn your head so I don’t mess up that pretty face of yours. Okay?”

“What are you getting ready to do?”

“Don’t worry about that, just do what I told ya.”

The cold storage unit abruptly shook, the sound of metal on metal grating, and Dean cringed, his eardrums throbbing at the ear splitting vibrations. “Jesus, Beth! What was that?!”

“I’m trying to break this door open! That hurt like a mother-” She was abruptly cut off, and the silence was replaced by a loud crash and a sharp cry.

“Hey! What happened? Are you okay?!” Silence was his only answer, and Dean shivered as the temperature dropped even more. “Shit, shit, shit...Beth!” Just as he was about to shove himself towards the door, it shook again and this time popped open with a creaking groan. Dean looked up to see Beth, blood dripping down the side of her face and her shirt ripped, holding a giant pipe and breathing heavily.

“Asshole didn’t realize this was iron.” She tossed the pipe down and pulled the metal slab out, yanking at the knots and freeing Dean’s hands. He quickly slipped the rope off and jumped down from the gurney, immediately checking the still freely bleeding wound on Beth’s temple.

“He tossed you around pretty good, huh?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded bandana and pressed it against her head.

“You could say that,” she said between clenched teeth, “but I got him right in the ghost nards. Think they can feel that like people do?”

Dean laughed, “I’m not sure, never stopped to think about it.” He dropped his hand and stared at Beth, “Where have you been hiding this whole time, anyway? You’d make a great hunter.”

She shrugged, “Someone’s gotta keep this place in check. You think these are the only ghosts around? Anyway, ya’ll live in some sort of weird, flat hellscape. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Aw, come on, it’s not that bad. We’ve got mountains. Come out to visit us sometime, I’ll show you around.”

“You’ve got hills. But maybe I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never been out west before. Could be fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun.” Dean took a step closer to her, and Beth put her palm against his chest, stopping him.

“Simmer down, handsome. I fully intend on getting so close to you that Jesus himself would blush, but right now we’ve got bigger issues on our hands.” She bent down and picked up the pipe and smacked it against her other hand. “Now what?”

Dean reached over and grabbed another loose pipe and swung it up onto his shoulder, “We find those brains and send those bastards to Purgatory.”

Our steps echoed in the huge, empty space as we ran across the basement towards the source of the scream. “Since when are they impersonating people?” I yelled, my heart beating in my ears so loudly I could hardly hear myself. “Did you know ghosts could do that?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve not seen it. Not exactly something I was expecting, but why not make this even more difficult?” Sam slid to a stop and flashed his light into the dark, open doorway in front of us. “How could you not tell they weren’t...them?”

I glared at him, then reached over and pinched him hard on the arm. He swore and pulled his arm away, rubbing at the spot I’d just grabbed, “What the hell was that for?!”

“Just making sure it was actually you,” I spat back, looking back to where the beam of light was bouncing around haphazardly. “We have to find those brains, Sam. If we don’t find them, who knows what those two will do to Dean and Beth.”

“And how do you suggest we do that? This basement is huge, Y/N. And we aren’t splitting up, so you better come up with something else.”

I rolled my eyes, and for the first time since I had known him wished I was anywhere but here with Sam. I chewed on my lip as I thought. Where would they store something they needed later safely, something important like specimens, but still be easily accessible?  “Wait...which way is north?”

Sam looked at me, eyebrow raised, “What?”

“Which way is north? Where is the front of the building?”

Sam looked around, then pointed back in the direction we’d just come from, “The north side of the property would be that way. Why?”

“Which means that this door-” I gestured toward the one we were just looking through- “would be going towards the south side of the building, right?”

“Yes…”

“The morgue is behind the asylum, and I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think there’s a back entrance to this basement, or at least a tunnel from the morgue to here so that they could move the bodies discreetly. Would it not stand to reason that maybe the stuff they kept in storage would at least be close to the morgue? What point would there have been in carrying it all the way across the building?”

Sam smiled, and I felt a quick flash of relief. I had never argued with Sam, and right now wasn’t the best time to start.

“Good idea.” Another cry echoed through the basement, followed by a crash and Dean’s muffled voice yelling for Beth. Sam made a move towards the noise, but I stopped him.

“We can’t help them if we get trapped, too. We’ve got to find those brains, Sam. It’s the only way to stop this. They’ll be fine.” Sam frowned, and I squeezed his arm, “I promise, I will not let anything happen to them.”

He sighed, “Yea...okay. Where do you suggest we look?”

I grabbed his flashlight and pointed it into the darkness ahead of us. “I have an idea...but you aren’t going to like it.”

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