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cyberneticlagomorph · 4 years

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Is there anything more daunting and dangerous than the blank white expanse of a page?

It glitters and glows like the spit-slick teeth of a predator, hungry for words that you cannot give it. No matter how much you want to.

Its gaze alone freezes all trains of thought, even in the minds of Writers and authors and artists alike, even those more powerful than I.

And as I sit here, trembling, at the mercy of Writer's Block and my own anxieties… I can think of nothing that I want more than to run, to leave this page blank, and my readers guessing.

The End is Nigh, dear readers, and I am afraid.

So very afraid.

"I'm afraid too," says the rabbit we all know and love, his legs swallowed by moss and weeds and misshapen dreams. He stands right where we left him, sword in hand, broken sky above, the End of Everything staring him down.

All seven of Her glowing green eyes blaze with something worse than hate, and I wish for all the world that this was a much different story. A happy story, with a happy Ending.

But I've never written a happy Ending in my life.

There is silence now, neither Protagonist or Antagonist moves or breathes or blinks.

They know that this is how it Ends.

One of them will die today.

So it is Written.

So it will be.

"Shut. Up." The End snarls, lips curling back over venomous fangs that drip oily green liquid onto the cracked asphalt below. Flowers bloom from the puddle, and spread like a rainbow rash down the street. "This. This is all YOUR fault!"

I know.

I'm sorry.

"LIAR!!" Her scream echoes across the fourth wall and cracks my computer screen.

This…

This is where I leave you, dear readers.

I'm sorry.

Fangs sink deep into the papery flesh of the Narrative, tearing it apart as it is poisoned. Thorns grow from its wounds and strangle it like trembling hands.

Writer be damned.

Plot be damned.

I am the End of EVERYTHING, I will End this miserable excuse for story on my own terms.

Or die trying.

You have not won, sweet stupid rabbit, no one can save you now, no one will stop me now. The world is a page upon which fate is Written and I will burn it all to the ground. May its ashes be lost and forgotten.

Your dark eyes narrow at me, bone blade glittering as you charge. But I am in control now, and I don't play fair.

Deep beneath the earth, humans sit snug and safe in their bunkers, thinking themselves free of the horrors outside. From the canteens comes a deep and terrible shattering like teeth against an eggshell, and a figure crawls lazily from the steam wafting from any number of bubbling pots set on stoves across the world over.

She smells of cooking meat and blood drenched in exotic spices and honey. Stick thin, and dressed in a chef's uniform. Her sleeves and hands are stained with the blood of the starving.

She has no face.

Only bright white teeth.

She manifests in the homes of the rich, stuffing them fat with delicacies that humans have no names for. Each minuscule morsel is completely tasteless covered in edible gold. Like the kind of fare you'd find at high end restaurants, going for hundreds of dollars a plate, even though each serving is barely a mouthful.

She appears in slums with bread made from ash and bone, rat stew, and tainted water.

Pots boil in city centers, a roiling soup made from human offal that nothing in this world or the next could ever hope to surpass.

The poor eat their rations, their bread, their stew and grow sicker and hungry. Skeletal and drooling like rabid animals, they stuff their faces with food that offers no nourishment until there is no choice but to turn on each other.

Screens grow undulating limbs and crawl from the wreckage of humanity, their screens blinking wetly like the eyes of a crying child. On each one is a broadcast, a man with red eyes smiles a reassuring smile and says,"Hungry? Eat the rich."

And they do.

A hoard of near zombies growl and gurgle as loud as their empty bellies, they hunt down the wealthy, and they FEAST.

Pestilence rises from the pus and rot and ruin and watches as all the good Jack and his friends had done is undone in a flash.

Among the riots and feasting is a cop, his riot gear reflecting the terrified and feral faces around him as he marches slowly onward. There is nothing behind his helmet.

Only malice.

Only power.

Only slaughter.

Only Death.

I don't have to tell you what comes next, what Death does when he gets his hands on a victim. The sounds of bullets ringing out into the night can tell you, the smell of tear gas in a crowd can tell you, the cries of innocents choking out their last breaths in steel cuffs, wrists rubbed raw and bleeding can tell you.

Death is not merciful.

He is not kind or quick or clean.

He is inevitable.

You know it.

And he knows it.

This world will collapse under the weight of its own sins and I will be here to watch it dissolve like candy floss in water.

Tears stream hot and blue down your face, and your grip on the Vorpal sword trembles. They are not worth your tears.

They stole you, beat you, broke you.

Turned you into a monster and then threw you away like you were NOTHING.

You should hate them as much as I do.

You should be glad for their suffering.

They deserve to die.

Like HE deserves to die. I turn my gaze skyward and watch the world split as the armies of Heaven pour down like a wrathful rain.

The Divinity burns your skin, doesn't it Jack? And yet the smell of Angels makes your mouth water.

You are no better than I am, I think. A man made monster set loose upon the multiverse, expected to play nice and fit in the niches carved for us. But we don't, no matter how hard we try, how good we think we are, we are torn apart again and again and again until we are unrecognizable from our beginnings.

I think I could have loved you.

In another story.

In another lifetime.

We would have been good friends at least.

But it's too late for that now, and as the first wave of Angels assault me with Heavenly fire, I part my jaws and give them some fire of my own. Green, as bright and beautiful as the first leaves of spring, it turns their armor into bark and their marble skin into flower petals. They fall to the ground like confetti, and I claw my way up to Heaven.

The Gates bend and break beneath my weight like wire, nothing and no one can stop me as I wrap HIM in my coils, slowly constricting. My venom burns holes in HIM that grow fruit trees, and each fruit contains the knowledge of the multiverse. I want HIM to die slowly, to watch as HIS playthings suffer and burn because of HIM. The humans cry out, and they pray, begging, pleading for HIM to save them. But HE can't, HE won't.

What GOD would make a world so empty and hopeless as this? What GOD would let HIS followers murder and hate and destroy entire cultures in HIS name?

HE never wanted this, never wanted it to come to this, HIS teachings have been mistranslated and manipulated for millennia and now there is nothing left but hatred and sin.

My jaws part above HIS head, ropes of green spittle tarnishing HIS crown. HE does not fight me, how pathetic of HIM.

White hot pain explodes through my tail.

There you are, sweet hero, stupid rabbit.

Go home Jack, this doesn't concern you.

"But it does," you twist the blade, dislodging my scales and rending my flesh. My blood slithers up your sword, trying desperately to burrow inside of you and turn you Green. "You said that you think you could have loved me… well love me now, it doesn't have to be this way… I could… I could take care of you and help you heal, we could do it together."

You offer your hand, bloody and trembling.

The sound I make is inhuman and hard to describe in words, it is disbelief and venom and vengeance all at once. I stretch myself down to meet you, my eyes are the size of houses, and they reflect your trembling visage like great green mirrors.

"You're right, I should hate them, hate everyone… but I don't." a swallow, you taste copper and butterscotch, "I used to but I-I found people who cared, I found people who I love and who love me back and they make my life worth living… they gave me a reason to get better and stop hurting people… let me be your reason."

You reach out and touch my face, my scales are warm like the sidewalk in summer.

I crush GOD in my coils and HIS blood rushes over you like a wave.

There is nothing that can fix this, fix me.

No love will quiet the hatred in my heart.

I do not deserve kindness or redemption.

Love might have tempered your monstrous hearts, but it won't do the same for me.

Only one of us will make it out of this story alive.

"So it is Written." You say, solemnly.

So it will be.

My coils curl around you, quick as lightning. Your symbiote is the only thing keeping you from being crushed like a soda can, I hope you know that.

I don't waste time, and fling you down…

Down…

Towards earth.

Countless Angels have been discarded this way, wings torn from their backs, left to the mercy of gravity. It never gets any easier.

I tear a hole into space and crawl through it, into Fairyland, the place of my birth.

I devour the Sun-In-Chains, my replacement, and plunge the planet into darkness. I skin my teeth into the planet's crust and empty my venom glands into its core. Fairyland becomes my twisted Eden, choked with blinding bioluminescence, thorns, and poisonous things that not even I have a name for.

It's beautiful and terrible all at once.

Like me.

Like you too, I suppose.

You plunge your blade into my seventh eye and send me reeling, screaming, flailing. My frantically flapping wings crash into a nearby planet and reduce it to dust.

I pluck the sword from my eye and snap it into pieces.

You're becoming a real thorn in my side.

Seven perfect fingers snatch you out of the sky like the annoying insect you are and start to CRUSH YOU.

I will tear you apart with my TEETH if I have to.

You've had every chance to run and hide, or join in my crusade and you denied them all. I have no use for you.

Not even as a snack.

Or a toothpick.

"Then kill me." You growl through clenched teeth, blood already flecking your lips and leaking from your nose.

I throw you into a patch of thorns. Each and every one is serrated and ranges in size from a human finger to a school bus, you are impaled, skewered, crucified even.

Neon blue blood running down to the soil beneath, feeding my Eden.

And yet, you refuse to die.

Slowly but surely, you drag your broken body up and off the thorn, shakily levitating up to meet me.

You stare at me with dead eyes, blood pouring from the opening in your chest. Your lips part and black flames flicker behind your teeth, smoke curling from your nostrils as the color drains from your eyes in inky tears, until there is nothing but black.

Just like the hole in your chest.

You seem to crack like porcelain, to split in two like something precious dropped from a great height. What crawls from the darkness inside of you is something no human throat can utter, no human tongue can twist or shape itself the right way to name.

It's said that Demons possess.

But Angels abandon.

But what can be said of creatures that man has no name for?

The thing inside of you stares at me with eyes darker than the emptiness between stars, its maw is the belly of a black hole with teeth long enough to split a planet like an apple.

It is the bleak black emptiness that existed before the universe, and will exist again when there is nothing but dust and dead silence.

This… this is my Warden, my Prison, the creature tasked with my capture those eons ago. You are barely a speck in it's vast form, a limp and lifeless nucleus.

It roars, a sound that radiates across time and echoes across the multiverse.

"FROM NOTHINGNESS YOU CRAWLED, TO NOTHINGNESS YOU WILL RETURN." the beast howls in a voice that echoes from every dark and terrible place in the multiverse and shakes me to my core.

I will not go without a fight.

It lunges, claws outstretched, the endless expanse of its hideous maw seems to suck all the light out of the stars, out of me. I sink my teeth into its throat and pull, my body curling around and around it.

Its claws are impossibly sharp, tearing my flesh down to the bone. My blood falls to fairyland like rain. My face is grabbed and smashed into the planet's surface again and again. I crush the Warden close and set myself on fire, I am the LIGHTBRINGER, it will take more than some overconfident shadow to defeat me.

The Warden burns, it smolders and screams like steam escaping. I fling it away into deep space and charge after it, driving my seven horns into its belly.

I miss you by a hair, I feel you reach out and grab me just as I pull back. Amber chains snake from your weeping wound, to the Warden behind you.

You have no control over this thing, do you?

No.

Didn't think so.

But still, you stubbornly grab your chains and pull. The Warden does not come to heel, so much as it melts, engulfing you in its emptiness like a suit. When you open your eyes, you nearly dwarf me.

Nearly.

Your fist collides with my face in an instant, sending teeth flying like meteors. I cannot tell your rage apart from the Warden and I'm not sure I really want to.

Run.

For a second, we are stars, two pinpricks of light twirling around each other in double helices, colliding and clashing with enough force to summon new stars from the ether. We are creation and chaos incarnate.

We crash through debris fields, shatter planets and extinguish stars. Our blood becomes the new crawling things left behind in the wreckage. I'm smiling, the pain is dizzying, delicious, delightful.

My venom turns you into a garden, and you tear me apart with your bare and bloody hands.

Through it all we refuse to die.

Maws wide and screaming in tongues the universe hasn't heard since it was new, I am thoroughly seduced.

But I am growing bored with this game.

I shove my hand through the Warden and tear you out. You scream in undeniable agony, I close my fist around you and squeeze.

The Warden hangs limp and dead in the darkness of deep space, slowly dissolving.

Something oozes between my fingers.

Not blood, far too sticky and cloying to be that.

If Hope had a color, what would it be?

Would it be a color that only shrimp can see, and only gods have a name for?

You pry my fingers apart, tears pouring from your eyes the same color as Hope. Hope flows from your mouth as flames, rushes from your open chest as ferns and flowers and vines more beautiful than I could ever create. You reach into the forest of your heart and pull out Kindness, sleek and soft and sharp.

It melts in your hands, becoming a hammer, comically oversized like your Ma's. And then it grows, and grows, and in the blink of an eye it's bigger and I am. The swing alone takes out half a dozen solar systems before it hits me and sends me crashing through different universes and out the fourth wall. I land heavily on the Writer, dazed and bloody, your hand reaches through his broken computer screen and drags me back home, and there we float over the ruined remains of earth, the skin of my chest balled in your hand like a shirt. You kiss your knuckles and punch me hard enough to send me careening back down to the earth's surface, my crater levels a nearby city.

Do you care?

Are we beyond morals and niceties and caring about humanity?

You teleport to my limp and broken body, you scoop me up into your arms and hold me close.

I've folded in on myself several times, I'm barely the size of a person now.

I can feel those amber chains slithering around me, they clasp around my throat tight enough to choke.

I don't want to go.

Don't make me go.

I don't want to go back to sleep.

Please.

I'm scared.

I'm so scared.

You don't let me go, as I break down and cling to you like a scared child you don't let me go.

I wrap you in my wings, I shove my head under your chin and apologize when I stab you with my horns.

"I am your Warden, you are my Prisoner… you are the End of Everything, but I am the End of You…" your throat is choked with snot and tears as you squeeze me so tight I can barely breathe. "You… you deserve to be a Happy Ending and I refuse to live in a world without one."

You kiss my forehead and wipe away my tears. "We do terrible things when we hurt… you deserve compassion instead of imprisonment."

I can do nothing but sit there and bawl, choking on Kindness as thick and sweet as soft caramel.

Seven times seven thousand lifetimes worth of hate and sorrow and trauma run from my eyes.

You sit with me until the crying stops, until my throat is raw and all I can do is whisper.

I speak a Word, one that fixes the shattered sky and let's the sun shine properly again.

The sun speaks their own Words and resets the world, turning the clock back to the day before my escape, I do humanity one kindness and let them wake the next morning as if the past week were nothing more than a bad dream.

I am made to fix my messes, to undo my misdeeds.

The Horsemen are sealed away again.

Fairyland is repaired to the best of my ability, although there is nothing that I can do for the Sun-In-Chains. What's done is done.

GOD will be fine, HE'S GOD, and therefore more or less impossible to kill permanently.

All evidence of my tirade is erased.

I am finally bound in amber, my powers diminished. I dread returning to the cold depths of the well, but you won't let that happen.

You refuse to send me back to that lonely place beyond dreams and take me home, to your home. Warm and safe beneath the soil, I curl up next to you by the fire.

And for the first time in your short and terrible life, you get a good night's sleep.

#ic #action post #the end is nigh #blood #death #religious imagery //#blasphemy //#cannibalism //#police brutality //#ask to tag #body horror #dismemberment //#impalement #submission

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mrsunderhill678 · 4 years

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I am a writing goddes, bow before my throne of prose and murder.

"I choose death before dishonor, and courage before cowardice, if I am to die on my knees, my teeth will be bared and bloody, laughing at the world for such an attempt at my life.” - Avarell Boneson

“Perhaps I am a wolf, but that does not make me bad in nature, cruel at heart. It means I am willing to fight with my teeth bared and my claws covered in the crimson regret of bad men who fucked with the wrong bitch.” - Avarell Boneson

“I have so much to lose, and so I fight. I bleed. I carry on.” - Avarell Boneson

“I am cold steel and wildfire smoke, I am justice and red hot rage, I am the end of those who wrong me. Stand before me, pray, sell me an empty promise, I assure you, no lie, no man, no beast, can stand in my way.” - Avarell Boneson

“I am a culmination of every girl I ever was, from the little girl scared of the shadows to the woman who now stalks them.” - Avarell Boneson

“Blood for blood spilled is a simple rule, thus is karma's reign.” - Avarell Boneson

“Say a prayer for a damned man and you'll realize you are one.” - Jeremiah Smithen

“I'm in need of a hangin', but they'll need a thick rope to hang the man of a thousand heavy lies.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“I spose I was born for the gallows, might my shadow cheer as I swing? Bring me ta my knees, let me look 'pon the crowd 'a those I love so they know I'm payin' for my mistakes, and rightfully so. I'm tryin' ta be a better man, but the shadow of this hangman's noose lies cold on my soul, and it's a shiver a damned man can't shake.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“I can't take these names off these graves, cuz I was the one that carved em. I'm the one that hung them good men from them trees. They lie three feet off the ground, gaspin' for air that just don't come. Are these men I killed reflections 'a my future?” - Jeremiah Smithens

“Spose my brother made a deal with the devil, 'spose he sold my soul to compensate for the soul he din'it have.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“A century long blood debt lies heavy on my shoulders.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“His blood runs through mine, so I spose either way you put it, his blood spills.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“All I've got is the heart in my chest, but I've learned my heart is a never ending void of condemnable sorrow. This sorrow I feel is what'll kill me, in the end. Cause it's this sorrow that drives my vengeance.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“Either he will bleed for all he's done, or I'll bleed for all he's done.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“I walk in the shadow of kings and queens lost ta time. I am every man he ever killed, every women he broke, and every drop of blood he spilled. I 'spose I'm vengeance, and if it kills me, so be it. I ain't much livin', anyhow. Cause livin' for death ain't no life at all.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“I look to my future and whisper, "Spare me." I crawl on my knees, begging for this future of mine to show mercy, but all it ever says is, "You're only human, so die like one." But living was never about death, even if death is an important place to visit while still breathing. Life is about so much more than the end of it, I've learned. It's about love, the sacrifices you're willing to make, and your care for the people who've built you up over the years.” - Albert Spurs

“I've seen power corrupt men and drag them screaming down a twisting path of bones they've yet to break. Power brings the out the worst in the best of men, it corrupts the good and creates evil. All power ever stole is humanity from the most human of men.” - Albert Spurs

“Time doesn't care about us, and I suppose I shouldn't care much for time.” - Albert Spurs

“We’re the smoke rising from the world’s fucking pyre. Up and up we go, burnin' through the atmosphere, challengin' the sun with our heat.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I stand in a world where the devil's below me and God's above me, either side challengin' me ta be better or worse.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I's seen blood debts play out in gunpowder regrets and charms, I's seen war's that left men broken or dead, but no one ever walked out the same. After all, war breaks men in ways humans never could, it ain't the man that gets ta ya, it ain't the gunfire neither, it's your own damn hands that break ya in the end.” - Craigsley Thorn

“Long 'go I said I'd be the very best, I'd be the most fearsome mother fuckah America'd ever laid eyes 'pon, but that old, beaten country stood me down in a draw fight and I got damn lost. I lie here with a bullet in my head, hangin' from my family tree, 'spose in the end I'm swingin' from the same rope as my father. Funny, how the corpse don't fall too far from the tree, huh?” - Craigsley Thorn

“I was the quickest draw, toughest mother fuckah this side 'a the West, but 'spose my regret draws quicker. He fills me with six round slings 'a lead, and reloads quicker than I can recover.” - Craigsley Thorn

“Came ta America for a new life, but I 'spose when ya step foot in damned land ya become a damned man.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I am no god, though I am cruel as he.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I suppose to a poor man, riches are poison they wish to choke on, I've learned there is a difference between a poor man's poison, and rich man's poison. I've choked on both and gotten used to these dualities.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“You forgot to wash yourself in the blood of the lamb, my friend, and now, I am washed in the blood of you.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“A man once asked me if I was God, and all I could really say is "Not quite yet, though if you mean God by the end of you, then yes, my friend, I am your extinction." - Cornelius Whitiker

“I have lived through every stage of life, I have been poor, homeless and broken, begging for release. I have been rich and mighty, helping those who had been like me, and now, I have succumbed to power, this rich man's poison tastes sweet on my lip. Like blood of a lamb on a wolf's maw it drips from my chin, a warning of more dangerous things to come, I suppose.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I wear this halo as if it meant a thing, all this halo is to the holy men who witness me is false hope, false salvation. Even angels sing along to my crimson song, this battered melody of blood set remedies.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I am crazy they say, but if they knew that I am just like them, they would run for their lives.” - Rolf Lambs

“Easy now, the dog who barks often gets bit.” - Rolf Lambs

“I am mad, they say, barking away my life, chasing cars and headlights with no real meaning. But can't they see, my purpose is their end? My purpose is the madness you say has no reason. But I, am the rhythm, my friend, I am the melody of barks and bites, howls and the spilling of blood that follows the wooping war cries.” - Rolf Lambs

“My heart still beats and thus yours shall not.” - Rolf Lambs

“Look at this hall of hollow souls, look at us, slaves to reason. Slaves to desperation and methods to madness.” - Rolf Lambs

“What can a wild dog do when faced with heaven? Do we bark at God as he barked his commandments?” - Rolf Lambs

“They tell me I have paid the devil's price, that I shook his hand. But don't you see? He shook mine, he shook mine.” - Rolf Lambs

“I am a wild dog of these wastelands, ragged fur and bloodied teeth, broken claws and angry eyes that tell you my bite is worse than my bark, and my tongue is worse than my teeth, for it's the words that fall from it, that kill you whilst still breathing. See? I am just, like, you, so shalt you run from yourself?” - Rolf Lambs

“This show has just begun, and I refuse to draw the curtains until they who have wronged me are strung up by their necks and swing as the curtains finally close.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I'm a wayfaring stranger on this road of vengeance, it's always raining here, and I can hear the whispers of the damned in the downpour. Alas, I can hear my own voice, but I've miles to go before I get what I fucking deserve.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“Perhaps I'm a bad woman, perhaps I'm cruel, but only to those who damn well deserve it. I'd never fire my gun on they who never pulled the trigger, but I'd pull it on they who fired the bullet first.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“You can damn me, but I've already been to hell, I met evil in the form of a suit and tie, lies behind a pearly white smile. The devil never had a pitchfork, he never had wings, he looked just fucking like us. He wore the faces of those we loved, pulled their skin over his and wore who they used to be like a taut mask, but it never seemed right. Stitches pulled at their smiles, scars and blood stained them. We've all been caught by the devil once or twice, for he starts by digging his claws into our hearts, and convincing us our hearts had always been bleeding.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I'm not okay, lost in the tide of vengeance, but at least I have Amaryliss. Her hands are as bloody as mine, her heart as broken as mine, but at least I'm her's and she's mine.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“If only the specters could warn you of me, and yet, their cries remain silent. Howls into the abyss, never to be heard. Dead warnings lead to dead men, but who said the dead cannot live again?” - Atiogrim Crow

“Behold my dynasty of the dead, my kingdom of skeletons and ghouls, beasts that were once men. But I suppose when your heart stops beating, you become cold and heartless. And once you are heartless, you must find something to replace the soul you lost. Be it rage or anger, mercy or brutality, no heartless beast ever lived without a substitute.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I have shook hands with my darker side, and in turn, Arasill wrapped me in his cloak of shadows, he showed me that the stars blink out, and if you wish upon them, all you'll ever receive is a wolf's howl.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I suppose I am broken, but in a beautiful way. Dark in a way that isn't quite holy, but isn't perfectly sinful.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I down my pain as if it was the finest red wine, I can't separate the pleasure from the pain no more, or maybe I've just gone numb.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I try to be someone more than this broken girl, but the shadows have surrounded me, and claimed me their ruler. I never intended to spill blood, I never intended to be sinful and wicked, but here I am, downing my own pain as if it was red wine, and spilling other's pain from the glass.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“The devil is not beneath us, nor is God above us, he stands right in front of me, with his empty eyes and smile, his baseball cap and smoke floating around him like willow wisps in the fog. But these wisps never brought me an adventure, they were never there to show me my purpose. All they did was lead me to the deep end, drowning me in this red wine of pain I drink.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I am the blood-stained beast in Eden, yet the angel of flaming blade does not pay attention to my cries. He does not heed my mournful howls.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I drag my feet 'cross holy ground, scaldin' my soles, yet all I do is trudge on. I'd say I'm a soldier, but this holy ground burns my feet. I hold this rifle in my hands like a cross, I call it my saving grace, but these days, faith won't save a damned man.” - Dolfin Holts

“I've fought for honor, for blood, for faith and men I cannot name. So why can't I fight for myself?” - Dolfin Holts

“I have saved lives by endin' others, tell me how that's fair. We're broken beasts, bending the fucking crop and watching the sheep scatter as we bare our teeth. But all we ever did was try to save them.” - Dolfin Holts

“Oh lord, let me find myself a river so I can wash these sins clean, but I am haunted by the ghost of my brother. His smile looms over mine, whispering again and again, "You did not save me." And it's true. All I could do was flee, and listen to his howls. Look at all this death I've caused. My brother rots, still walking this Earth, but nothing more than a waxy white beast, clawing at the living, envious of the fact that they may end their hunger. I look into the eyes of every dead man that ever lived, and I see his eyes. His brown eyes, full of love for his family, full of rage and joy, passion and addiction. I'd never seen brown eyes so beautiful. Until I held my baby brother in my arms. And those are the same eyes that looked at me with rage as I gripped my rifle, and fled as the dead swarmed the livin.” - Dolfin Holts

“Fear handed me a gun and said, "Soldier, keep marchin," and that's just what I did.” - Dolfin Holts

“I am no soldier, because this holy ground burns my feet, and these graves break my damn heart.” - Dolfin Holts

“It's strange, how the burden of being a good man lies on my shoulders. I've gunned men down in foreign countries with hardly the blink of my eyes. They had names, families, and yet, they say I'm a good man for putting them down.” - Kerry Hopwood

“I've learned that soldiers fight for what they see as right, and usually, it ain't what the world sees as right. We've all got our own definition of peace, of salvation. But most men just don't wanna be saved. They believe the sun will come before the rain, but any flower that grows comes after the rain.” - Kerry Hopwood

“We are gunfire and bravery, cowardice and courage, the fleeing mouse and the roaring lion. Because we can't be one thing, without experiencing the other.” - Kerry Hopwood

“We've got our chins held high and our guns held strong, so what do you do when faced with a good man? Do you join him in this war for peace? Or do you become the man that stands in his way? You may die either way, but it's better to die for a good cause, than to die because you opposed one.” - Kerry Hopwood

“I shook hands with a devil, and with my heart still beating he dragged it to Georgia and traded it for a golden fiddle.” - Bediah Boe

“I'm a circus act, lifting these weights no man can bare, that no man should, bare. Yet here I am, my strength turned to weakness. I am broken, battered, bloodied, laughing my way through the sorrow.” - Bediah Boe

“Look at this showman's smile, look at the blood on the clown's teeth. I am such a tragic creature. I've traded blows with the devil, and if this rage is the death of me, let it too be the death of him.” - Bediah Boe

“He says we are jesters and vagabonds, outcasts and broken souls. But ain't he the one that made us such? Behold, Borbasli's Siren Cove, the howls ain't the waves my friend, though he'll sell em as such. The wind whips at our backs and leaves us bloody, we all knew where the siren's song went. Yet still we followed. She brang us down ta her level below the sea floor, drownin' us while holdin' our cold hands.” - Bediah Boe

“I spose when faced with love in a world 'a hate, you stumble toward it despite the danger. Ain't no warnin' signs that could keep ya from the danger.” - Bediah Boe

“Redemption is for men with sorrowful tales ta tell, men with methods ta their madness. But here I am, with my Jack Daniels and moonshine, with a sorrowful tale ta tell, but no method ta my madness. For I am not it's orchestrator. He hides behind pearly smiles and beautiful lies, enchantin' he was, ugly in the heart, but just as a siren, beautiful in the voice.” - Bediah Boe

“If you saw the world through my eyes you would fear me.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“I've learned that the good man will always become enslaved by the bad one. You see, good men don't understand what it takes, to be... Good. Or to do good, rather. They spare the cruel and let the good die all for the sake of a bad man's life.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Revolution is a slow game of chess, full of Queen Gambit's and false Stalemates. I will sacrifice my pawns and watch as the brooks and knights swarm your castle, all because the king stood on the front lines!” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Change is a funny thing, it can be quick, or slow, but it never really feels like anything changes, does it? Only when you look back do you realize nothing's the same.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“We are ensnared by reason and purpose, guises of self and individualism, but in reality, we're no one! We're minds and souls, but not much else. I don't choose to define myself. One minute I could be the mad hatter, the next, I could be Alice, or the rabbit leading the way, warning you of the time passing by. But time dies slow, doesn't it?” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Every Robin Hood who dared nock an arrow was killed before it ever flew through the air. All it takes for a revolution is a single arrow, so I wouldn't blame a mad king for banning use of the bow.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“My life is reflected in the barrel of a gun, I suppose all it's ever been is an instrument of death.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Sticks and stones have broken my bones, words have left me bleeding, but I will build an empire from this pain, this grief, this bleeding heart. Not every kingdom is built through fear, I will rule through mercy and last longer than violence could ever hope to.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Keep your enemies close, and keep your allies in the dark, so that when the shadows come, they can become the light the kills the dark.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Some days I'm a bad woman of sticks and stones, and words that kill. But most days, I'm just scared, turning my fear into courage.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“I have seen my life reflected in the barrel of my own gun, but I refuse to be an instrument of death for higher powers.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“It ain't the greater good for all if a man has to die. What happened to his, greater good?” - Axel Whithers

“In this day and age, we sacrifice more than we give, and we kill more than we live.” - Axel Whithers

“We're out here, payin' the price for what we done, sadly, in this kill or be killed world, death is a collective punishment for the human race.” - Axel Whithers

“I suppose to a soldier, loyalty means sumthin' different. It means ya don't leave no one behind, even when a fellow soldier dies, we carry him in the arms 'a our memories.” - Axel Whithers

“We're soldiers, loyal ta a code 'a honor most men don't follow. Honor ain't found in the scourge, it ain't found in the dirt, or the mud. Honor is found in the men that faced the world and din'it let it change em.” - Axel Whithers

“I have seen how war kills men. All it has to do is give em a gun and enemies on the front line, firin' back.” - Axel Whithers

“This gun in my hand I once would'a called the devil, is my only savin' grace these days. It is an instrument 'a death as it is an instrument 's life, and I 'spose I too, represent this damned soldier's duality.” - Axel Whithers

“It's foolish, ta push against an immovable object, when you ain't an indestructible force.” - Milos Fellwitz

“No dead man ever came back for more, all 'cept for Gustave. He plays a dangerous game of three steps forward, five steps back, don't he know the more steps he takes back, the more likely it is he'll fall into his own fucking grave? Or worse, back pedal into those he loves, shovin' them inta their grave.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Hammer's up bitch, this town is damned because a damned man has stepped through it's got damn gates.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Stare me down, raise your fists and charge, but just know, every good men that ever lived, died. But look at the conquerors of history. Gengis Kahn, raiders of seas and England. It's the bad men who live on.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I'm rotten to the fucking core, my blood-stained grin is a threat, a promise and a warnin' ta all who stand in my way. So COME ON, send an army my way, I'll stand, fists raised, threatful grin flashed, ain't no one gon' live ta tell the tale 'a the immovable, indestructible force.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I am Milos, motherfucking, Fellwitz, the cruelty of history trembles as I grin, the brutality of this world quivers.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I'm the result of a merciless world, and you'll be the result of a merciless man.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Morality, it don't get ya nowhere, if it's death you're wishin' for, grab your morals and stick ta em.” - Kai Fell

“I trust my gut, and when that fucker tells me ta pull the trigger, I damn well listen.” - Kai Fell

“We're all cheats, liars and thieves, throwin' our morals away the moment we realize we're God damn mortal.” - Kai Fell

“I've learned that ta survive, I've ought ta trust my revolver sooner than a stranger.” - Kai Fell

“Somedays I'm a saint, other days I'm a sinner, but I'm a crook even with the most charmin' 'a smiles. Good men would swing me from the gallows if they realized I was a bad one. But it's easy to lure men into false senses of security.” - Kai Fell

“I've learned that ta survive, ya can't be good, cause the world ain't gon' be good ta you.” - Kai Fell

“Call me ill, call me sick, but there ain't no cure ta a loss 'a morals.” - Kai Fell

“I ain't nuthin' but a specter 'a flickerin' morals.” - Kai Fell

“I am who I need to be, and I've learned, who I am changes with the tickin' 'a the clock.” - Kai Fell

“I walk within the valley of death, the shadow overbearing, the only light to be found the flickering of my cigarette.” - Banks Cutthroat

“I'm a bad man, committing bad deeds under the false guise of world peace. But we can't attain peace through violence.” - Banks Cutthroat

“One warlord rises and a revolution charges, cut the head from the snake and you become the damn serpent.” - Banks Cutthroat

“The sun sits pretty on the sky, the birds sing, the light shines upon me, yet still, in all this beauty I am ugly.” - Banks Cutthroat

“In this world, damnation is the only salvation we deserve.” - Banks Cutthroat

“The Earth is no longer home, for Mother Nature weeps and weeps, leaving us in a shallow river of her tears. Blood red they are, I wonder if she mocks us for the blood we've spilled. Or does she grieve as any mother would?” - Banks Cutthroat

“All this violence is ugly, and man has no right to make it beautiful.” - Banks Cutthroat

“When heaven bares it's teeth, you learn to raise a lil' hell.” - Edmund Goodbread

“In heaven I met a damned man, with his empty eyes and scarred smile, some days I got'sa wonder, was 'e God or just a very crooked angel?” - Edmund Goodbread

“Livin' scares me, dyin' terrifies me, but there ain't never been no in-between. I have to live in a constant state 'a fear. Fear for existence, and horror for the end 'a it.” - Edmund Goodbread

“The boy I was is cinders, cause this vengeance is a reflection 'a the man who made it. I'm a lowlife tryin' ta get my head right, but I'm spinnin' in every which direction, shootin' point blank at every blurred shape.” - Edmund Goodbread

“I am parched, drinking from pools of my own blood. Alas, it brings me no satisfaction, but I am doomed to drink from a well that shall only ever bring me thirst.” - Murphy Joy

“The days get harder as time moves on, I suppose time knows how to move on better than I ever did. But how am I to move on from what I do not know?” - Murphy Joy

“I am in an eternal purgatory, fog wisps around me, concealing the beasts within the shadows and mist.” - Murphy Joy

“Look at me, all this stardust in my eyes, these long imploded pieces of the nebula.” - Murphy Joy

“These tears are not for what I have, or what I lost, but for what I had.” - Murphy Joy

“I am Murphy Joy, I tell myself over and over, but it sparks nothing in me. Murphy Joy, Murphy Joy, Murphy Joy, is that me or a man I stole?” - Murphy Joy

“I feel as if being me is a distant goal I can't reach. I strive to be myself, but whiskey regrets find me first.” - Bryan Jensen

“My past keeps me fractured, like barbed wire under my shirt it rips into me as I move, as I breathe, as I sit. I have held it for so long that it became a part of me, and now, I fear all I can ever do is bleed.” - Bryan Jensen

“My memory is a slate of broken emotions and raging fires, leaving me stranded and cold, yet surrounded by flame.” - Bryan Jensen

“I cannot accept peace when my whole life has been devoid of it. With all this pain, I fear peace. For in the quiet moments of the night my grief screams the loudest.” - Bryan Jensen

“These lullabies my scars sing are damning, wretched and ugly, they tell me, "Forget how to feel, Bryan, forget that you're real," and I do.” - Bryan Jensen

“I watch the world pass me by with a blank gaze, as if I am in a deadly haze.” - Bryan Jensen

“I spend more time sinnin' then I do grievin', these days. This providence 'a scars and memories have left me numb.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Life and death, same thing, really, I's learned both of em are cold, and neither of em are peace.” - Sampson O’Connel

“I am a blank slate 'a sin and misery, tryin' ta remember what the fuck it was like ta be human.” - Sampson O’Connel

“These days, trouble stalks me as a wolf would a rabbit, it snarls and barks, but I don't hear it til the bastard's two feet behind me. I's learned trouble comes, and sometimes, it just don't go.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Look at this life 'a mine and you'll learn there ain't no greener grass on the other side 'a the pasture, just remnants of a wildfire I set ta feel sumthin' other than the cold.” - Sampson O’Connel

“I swing this lasso and try ta catch sumthin' other than myself, but somehow, I always end up draggin' me in.” - Sampson O’Connel

“The devil's got debts ta pay with me, scores ta settle. He's put a price on my head, and shouted to the heavens, "Whosoever sends this man to me howlin', gets the price of a thousand lives." - Sampson O’Connel

“Listen ta the wind, and tell me, is that a thousand angels, a thousand damned souls howlin, or the hell hounds comin' for my hide? Cause these days, I just can't God damn tell.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Good men have suffered cause 'a me, 'spose the boy I was suffered too.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“I've made friends with all this rage, this greed, this hate, I go hand in hand with my vengeance, and these days, we leave death in our wake.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“This world is an eye for an eye, a brother for a brother, and blood for blood. Wolves stalk and rabbits cower, my ol' friend always said trouble comes, and sometimes it just don't go. And I, my friend, and the trouble that just don't go.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“Inside me is rage and love, anger and hate, passion and sorrow. I am a howl of everything I's ever been.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“My bootprints are bloodied in the snow, and whosoever dares follows in their wake will smell the smoke and flee. Cause only men with nuthin' but rage left can face the damn flame. The smoke blots my vision, the sky burnin' orange with the flames 'a my rage, and I spose all I can do is breathe it in.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“A woman once told me, that if your demons are silent, listen for your angels. But my demons howl, these days. They're in the wind and the fallin' 'a the trees. My angels could try ta find me, but they'd be food for the wolves and I'd find them bloodied before they ever reached me.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“My anger is a point blank rifle, leavin' messes and stains in the snow.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“We all lose our voice ev'ry now and then, forget that our strength ain't determined by how loud we can shout, but how softly we can speak when our anger dares swallow us whole.” - Milo Vadotil

“We're few, but our voices are many.” - Milo Vadotil

“Bein' a warrior ain't just bout fightin', it's bout lovin' what you fight for. In all my years I's learned that the greatest trait a warrior can have is compassion. It's kindness and mercy that wins the war, not bloodshed.” - Milo Vadotil

“Some men are handed destiny on a silver platter, and told that's all they can be, and men like me, men like Chance and Kobi, are given the scraps 'a destiny. Guess all we can do is lick it off our fingers and scrounge up the crumbs of our fate.” - Milo Vadotil

“I never saw fate as sumthin' set in stone, just a path 'a bread crumbs ta follow.” - Milo Vadotil

“If I could give a young man some words 'a advice that will always stand true, I'd tell him this. Cryin' is the strongest thing you'll ever do, bein' you is the bravest thing you'll ever do, and hidin' from yourself is the worst thing you can do for yourself and those around you.” - Milo Vadotil

“Man's best friend is compassion and strength built on love.” - Milo Vadotil

“Slip on my boots, try to trudge on and find, these boots are heavy for men who ain’t walked hell. But I ask, with boots so heavy, how is a man to take a single step?” - Damascus McNemanin

“My life passes me by cause I just don't God damn move on.” - Damascus McNemanin

“Power is a deadly thing, it seeps through good men's veins and whispers in there ear, "Let there be dark," and before God can ever shout, "Let there be light," they're consumed by the delusion that they're greater.” - Damascus McNemanin

“The worst thing bout me, is that I can't kick myself out. I'm stuck with my own company, and isn't that damning?” - Damascus McNemanin

“They tell me men like me can be free, they say, "Thank you, for your sins," and you're expected to say, "You're welcome," as if those sins weren't heavy.” - Damascus McNemanin

“I flick the light on, but the switch just don't work no more. The bulb swings flickerin' from the chain as I should from the gallows.” - Damascus McNemanin

“I look ta the starless sky and wonder, oh midnight dove, where do you wander? You are lost to me and yourself, flyin' toward the sun to kill the man who killed you. But you were never a grave, were you? Just a little critter, wanderin' this Earth 'a endless possibilities. But with endless possibilities comes evil, I've learned. What once was a gift has become a curse to all who hold it. The wrapping lies forgotten on the floor, our excitement has turned to horror, and this joy has become... Death.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Look at me, surrounded by these bloodied knives and empty bullet casings. All this peace was earned in violent delights, but don't violent delights have violent ends?” - Barley Teatherhall

“There's murder deep in my heart and rage deep in my soul. These roots kill me from the inside out and I was born as decaying oak and ashen leaves.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Bein' me is a rebellion to who I am, I suppose.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Legends never die, and thus, I am history.” - Killis Richens

“I dream of the shallow end of life, yet I remain in deep water, drowning for my sins.” - Killis Richens

“Justice despises me, mercy fears me, so I imagine death is head over heels for me.” - Killis Richens

“I cannot know peace, the light has trickled from my blood stream and left the shadows to stick to my heart. Festered weeds they are, killing me from inside, rather than warning me with a flesh wound.” - Killis Richens

“I have been grieved for and yet still, I live. I am a shadow of myself, a shadow of death and this trigger that controls me.” - Killis Richens

“I'm a bad man, blaming he who did not pull the trigger. After all, I'm the one in the chamber, being fired off in rage and consequence.” - Killis Richens

“All it takes to live is a little bit of faith and love.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“I almost lost myself in the nightmares I had faced, and da greatest tragedy we could ever face is losing ourselves. Because if we don't have ourselves, who can we really have?” - Freydis Grimkellson

“The world has told me who I am, who I'm supposed to be, but lies won't change me.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“In her eyes I see the waving grass, da splashing waves and the butterfloies fluttering past. I see us hand in hand, facing the storm or the calm sea, we'll face both with a smile.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“A devil and a beast took me in his clawed hands and told me, "This will heal you." But blood never healed anyone.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“Some times, life is a war, it gives us a shield and tells us to splinter it, it gives us an ax and tells us to bloody it, but not all conflict has to be violent.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“I'll fight death with black eyes and bloody knuckles, because I'd rather die fighting for a dream, than die knowing life passed me by.” - Wesley Homan

“I don't want to live forever, no reasonable man would, with immortality comes regret, and for a man who has more regrets than he can count, immortality is a curse more than a blessing.” - Wesley Homan

“Some days I miss the bright sun, I miss the days I was found and not lost, but maybe I'm not lost, just found in a way I've never been.” - Wesley Homan

“Some fight for honor, others fight for blood or their country, but I fight for others. I'd never fight for myself, my life isn't worth another.” - Wesley Homan

“I'm a renegade in a world full of cheats, in the olden days they'd call me "Most wanted, dead or alive," simply for being free.” - Wesley Homan

“The men who are willing to fight, are pioneers of future days full of bright sunlight and birds soaring by.” - Wesley Homan

“In a world full of kings and queens hellbent on domination, freedom is a rebellion.” - Wesley Homan

“It's good to be yourself in a world full of masked men.” - Wesley Homan

“If you're facing the opposition, preach your dream and find most men are dreamers, not fighters.” - Wesley Homan

“I've been swimming in the deep end with the sharks, praying they don't smell the black blood I've spilled. But they pass me by, because they're more interested in innocent blood.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“I have tried to love first, I have tried to understand my enemy, but there's nothing but hate in his veins and sins in his smile. His cracked yellow teeth haunt my dreams, and every time a wolf howls I fear he draws ever nearer. He is a blood-stained beast, but I can't become him in the pursuit of peace.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“My foe once told me I can't swim against his tide, that I'll drown before ever I find the source of my misery. But doesn't he know, I've been walking on his river bank, crawling up from behind.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“Just remember, damned wolf, if you're justice, and I'm mercy, than vengeance will swoop down and cut one of our throats. And in these years under your boot I've learned, I'm a gambling man.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“In the mirror I see his ever smiling face, the rose on his tailored suit, the blood on his blade and smile. The beast I damned stares back at me with my eyes. All this blood, all this darkness, all these scars and this loss, and for what? A mad man's war against peace?” - Gideon Krober

“Time and karma are chasing me, blood on their blades and my sins listed on cracked yellow paper. I fear karma, but I fear myself, too, so what can I really say but, "I'm fucked?" - Clark Singer

“I'm knocking on heaven's gates, cause I can't take this anymore. But my allies aren't in heaven, they're right beside me, but sometimes I wonder if I'm just preparing for the future.” - Clark Singer

“Oh mother, won't you take these guns from me? Won't you take this darkness and turn it into light? I want you in my life but fear the fact that you gaze upon me. You were my sanctuary and my light, my home and my heart, and now I've run miles from where you wanted me to be. God was never on my side, but you always were.” - Clark Singer

“I can point my guns at the ground and say, "I can't fire! I won't!" But the moment I'm in danger I'll raise that rifle and ruin another life.” - Clark Singer

“My sins sit here on my sleeve, the devil on my shoulder stitching more into the fabric of my coat. The angel lost the battle against the devil on my shoulder, and now all I can hear in my ear are the whispered victory cries of this beast lying heavy on my coat.” - Clark Singer

“In my reflection I see every man I've ever killed and the eyes of my mother, twisted in some odd way.” - Clark Singer

“If I were to retrieve the darkest parts of me and shove them in the corner, you'd be looking at such an ugly, wicked, blood-stained beast, with sharp jagged teeth and eyes that beg for death.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“They say time's all we got, but I'm not the ordinary type, I'm blood and death, war wrought symphonies and screeching angels. So let's kill tonight, my friend, let's kill! Blood shall lie slick on the dance floor, and in this carnival of souls we'll learn, the howls of the damned are the most beautiful of arrangements.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Humanity is a damned race, have been ever since the serpent infected Eden. So don't you suppose that's God's fault for giving the serpent venom? One garden, one serpent, and a wrathful God? Eden never stood a chance, nor did Eve, nor Adam, nor we.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Perhaps power is the serpent to my Eden.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“All the roses have turned to graves, all the dogs have turned to wolves, and all the men have turned to beasts.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Look at us, damned in a beautiful way, howling in a sinful sway. It was always meant to be this way, so sing, dance, your dark, merry little heart is content only with sin. So sin, my friend. Only men who feed their demons make it through the dark.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“It's my time to shine, cause I've learned history favors the underdog.” - Chance Shade

“The world'll try to beat you down, man, it'll tell you you're out of your mind, but you just gotta say, "Get outta my way, this is my life and I'll reach my star." Dreams is all we are, stars in the night sky who forgot how to blink out.” - Chance Shade

“We're dogs chasing headlights and butterflies, just for the thrill of it all. We'd never dare catch em, we'd never dare end the chase in blood.” - Chance Shade

“I've got dreams that keep me up in the dead of night, I toss and I turn, and somedays I forget, I'm on my way home. Cause this path has been long, man. It's winding and it's cold, it's covered in snow and regret. But I can't go back, cause the snow's covered my footprints in a cold sheet of forgotten dreams.” - Chance Shade

“No matter where I go, no matter where I run, I'm always moving forward, and I think that's what counts.” - Chance Shade

“After all these cold nights, and all these cold paths, I found my star in the night sky. If we blink out, we'll blink out together.” - Chance Shade

“I have been regret soft spoken, and anger wrongly placed, what am I but a whisper of everything I've ever felt?” - Billy Velmenstru

“My heart's airing out, hanging from the old tire swing, draining every childhood memory of innocence and turning it into pain.” - Billy Velmenstru

“We're swimming our way home, trying the best we can. But our doubts and insecurities are blood thirsty sharks, smelling the pain before we ever do.” - Billy Velmenstru

“I look to the sun and smile, but she knows better than that.” - Billy Velmenstru

“I am bullet holes and stale cigarette smoke, the broken cigarette hanging from a bad man's lip. I ain't a saint, but I could be if I tried. But I never will. We were born sinners and crawling up the hill I've been at the bottom of since birth just ain't worth the fucking effort.” - Billy Velmenstru

“Oh world, I'm home, it's a lonely place in this heart of mine, and I just don't know where to lay it.” - Billy Velmenstru

“On a sunny day I'm the good Samaritan, but when required, I am the burglar and the man lying bloodied on the side of the road.” - Carlados Dove

“In a world of restless souls, good men are hard to come by, so if you smile, and you agree, the restless soul will blindly follow you into the dark. But they never knew I led them just under the bed where the monsters reside.” - Carlados Dove

“Monsters are just tales and myths of what humanity's done. We are more blood-stained then the wolf, more viscous than the grizzly, deadlier than the black plague and more mysterious than the plague doctors who wandered the cobble streets, with death and intrigue in their stride.” - Carlados Dove

“Around here, no one keeps their eyes closed, we're staring at the higher powers, challenging their gaze.” - Carlados Dove

“The clock stops ticking upon my arrival, for it knows I am here to steal time.” - Carlados Dove

“I shook hands with the devil as I looked in the mirror, and I found, he looks just like me. His crooked smile and fine tailored suit. My mother always told me the devil wears a suit and tie, so I suited up and straightened my tie, flashed my crooked grin to the world, and said, "The devil's home." - Carlados Dove

“Death is the only presence protecting us from the horrors of life, these days. I'd hang myself from a noose if it meant freedom, though my body would be swinging, my soul would be soaring.” - Aciano Dominick

“Perhaps I have to cut the head from the snake if I ever wish to see Eden again. It was beautiful, my paradise, for my paradise was family. But they were stolen from me, howling "Save me! Save me!" But all I could do was stare at the barrel of my gun and swear I'd kill the man who took them.” - Aciano Dominick

“He stole my life in his stride, and in the barrel of his gun are the howls of those I love, and the damned cries he ripped from my throat.” - Aciano Dominick

“Vengeance is all I know, it's crawled into my heart and my head, knocking around my skull and whispering empty promises in my ear. "You will be free," it says, "You will be free," but his death won't grant me freedom, only mine, will. I suppose to me, my death is my Eden.” - Aciano Dominick

“Some days I believe it is my faith that desires to kill me.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“The weight of my silence is overbearing, but the weight of his silence is damning.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“They say it is our faith, our prayer that keeps us alive, but all I hear are echoes of my own voice. God cannot possibly be speaking to me from my own echo, for if he did, all I'd ever hear are questions and cries.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I tell my love to meet me on the battlefield, hand in hand we will fight this injustice, but somedays I fear it is this battlefield that will be our grave. How could we possibly call it a warzone when it's all corpses? It'd be more appropriate to call it a graveyard, a damned place, courage and honor traveled to my heart to die.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I have met the devil, with his crooked smile and slanted eyes. He tells me to kneel at his feet, or he'll kneel at my grave, but what does that mean? Is it him or my faith that desires to kill me? Does he want me to fall, or has he already seen me plummet?” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I cannot stand this silence, this damning silence, it is all I hear. No echoes, no prayers, no thoughts, can kill the weight of this silence. It brings me down to it's level and tells me, "God cannot hear you, for he never was." I cry and I weep but it is of no use. It is as if I have no mouth, and yet, I must scream.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“It's easy to say "I did the best I could," when the worst comes to fruition, but if you didn't give it your all, if you didn't fight the immeasurable odds with black eyes and bloody teeth, than you didn't really do the best you could. You did the best you could without sacrifice.” - Michael Tabrowski

“They say in order to do good by the world you must do wrong, but how can that possibly be right?” - Michael Tabrowski

“I've learned there is no sanctuary, no safe haven, no heaven no hell, that can save me from my damning memories.” - Michael Tabrowski

“I cannot preach what I do not know, so when I tell you redemption is not something you want to go through, I mean it. Stay on the right path the best you can, because redemption is hard. It's painful, it's not a race, it's not a marathon, it's a constant battle against yourself and the demons that have become a part of you. It's not a path for the light of heart, only the dark of heart. And it's best to keep your heart beating red as long as possible.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Not all men who do bad, are bad.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Strength earned from grief is a painful kind of courage.” - Michael Tabrowski

“If you look behind the mask of a damned man, you'll find every battle they ever lost, and every smile they ever tried to hide.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Sticks and stones have broken me, and I call myself a warrior?” - Markus Caesar

“I wear Dr. Emory's broken crown of thorns atop my skull. It drains the dreams from my mind and pulls the hope from my veins.” - Markus Caesar

“I'm a dog these days, sniffin' up the same old secret, the same old grave. My owner scorns me, but I can't stop sniffin', cause these bones are mine. I see my own skull grinnin', my ribs weary and broken, cuz in this age, I'm diggin' up my haunted future.” - Markus Caesar

“I was once a warrior, tryin' ta bring justice ta the innocent, justice ta the vulnerable, but now I'm the one who needs savin.” - Markus Caesar

“This road I walked were full 'a secrets and fresh dug graves, but if I'd looked a lil' farther I would'a seen a tomb that read my name.” - Markus Caesar

“I'm just a carnival 'a rust, the jesters and fools have damned themselves for bowin' ta me.” - Markus Caesar

“I 'spose I explain my pain so beautifully cause I can't handle the truth.” - Markus Caesar

“Chargin' inta the unknown turns ya inta a mystery, dun'it?” - Markus Caesar

“My memories are closin' in for the kill, these bloodthirsty lions and fools.” - Markus Caesar

“In these past hauntin's, I see Emory's curious eyes, feedin' upon the memories that damned me. In the mirror I see his eyes, his flickerin' soul, he's hauntin' me, his laugh echoin' in my cries. “ - Markus Caesar

“I fear I have witnessed true evil, and he is far from human. Men can be bad ta the core, but no warlord, no conqueror, no blade ridden fool has ever found themselves lookin' at the world through evil's eyes. For he wears a suit and tie, dancin' in the shawl 'a human misery like he owned the damned race.” - Markus Caesar

“I haz von many a time, but all it took vaz one loss to break me.” - Sameth Winn

“I'd burn my bridges if I zought it vould bring me to her. My sweet daughter, my star in ze night sky, I cannot find her, she vaz my North Star, and now I fear I can't find home. I cannot move on, I cannot remember how to breathe, she vaz the breath in my lungs.” - Sameth Winn

“I hold Toby's heart in my hands, and it beats as slow as mine does. It drips vith sorrow, vith regret and love, but ze grief screams louder.” - Sameth Winn

“Ze vorld haz stopped shining, and zis pain overpowers my love. Ve're holding onto each ozah, because ve're all ze ozah has. Our hearts have broken in half, and sadly, grief found it'z opportunity and filled up ze ozah half.” - Sameth Winn

“Life has taken me through many trials, I'm still standing, but that doesn't mean I've regained all I had won.” - Toby Winn

“I close my eyes and dream of better days, it's sad, that we don't get to be here long, and spend our days dreaming of times that were better.” - Toby Winn

“The good ol' days have passed us by, the wind heard our love and took it with his stride.” - Toby Winn

“I hold Sameth's heart in my hands, but it beats slower and slower, some days I fear it'll stop with all this grief.” - Toby Winn

“All we want is to hold our daughter in our arms again, to hear her laugh, to watch her smile. But love has become such a war. Grief and regret stands on the front lines, firing their rifles in rage and pain, telling us this is all we'll ever be.” - Toby Winn

“These memories won't heal, they're scars in my mind, trouble that just doesn't go. I fear this pain is all I can muster, the smiles have faded from my face, my laugh don't sound the same. There was joy behind that smile once, love behind that laugh. But this smile remains full of tears, this laugh full of glass.” - Toby Winn

“I am the easy target the arrow sinks inta, cause they always come for the wild ones, the damned, the freaks 'a nature.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“The circus dragged me into it's depths kicking and screamin', I followed no siren's song. I fought back tooth and nail 'gainst this blood-stained melody, but she covered me with marks 'a her claws and notes 'a her song. And now I'm in a trance, a foolish delusion that I'll be the last one standin' in a murder full 'a crows.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I make friends with the beasts and lions in my head, with friends like these I'm my own fuckin' enemy.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I am the beast master, the damned man, but out of all the beasts I've ever tamed, I'm the hardest one ta catch. I can make friends with lions and cheats, and yet, I can't tame this beast that is me. I am my own beast, and I do not bow to myself.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I am a wildfire, scorching myself and anyone who dares step foot in the ashen forest of me. I could build an empire of these scorched bones, these scalded skulls. I could sit upon my throne and gaze upon an ever smiling crowd of subjects that forgot to burn is to die.” - Richter Vellomonte

“There are no more heroes in this ashen land, this forest of burnt stumps. Our capes flutter in tatters, relics of who we were draped over our shoulders. But who we used to be is a weight we cannot seem to lift.” - Richter Vellomonte

“This world is kill or be killed, do not forget that he who refuses to pull the trigger catches the bloody bullet.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I suppose, with all this blood on my hands, I have become a wolf. Or a beast, or some extant form of man. I have bled on the floor, and as I realized there were no more heroes left to save me, I had to become the villain that would save himself.” - Richter Vellomonte

“Life is a terrible thing, wrought with terror and horror, ugly prose and poetry, it was never beautiful, just a bloodbath.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I looked at the man I was and said, "I'll build myself an empire," and he told me, with all his childhood naivety, that it would be lonely at the top.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I have been fed the scraps of destiny, devouring crumbs of fate. But I made my own destiny. They say I lost my mind as they threw me to the wolves, but don't they realize? It was among the wolves and the bastards that I found it.” - Richter Vellomonte

“Sympathy is found in such cruel hearts, why is peace found in the eye of the storm when we could give it to better men?” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“Evil is such a wicked root, digging into history, festering it from the inside out.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“I've learned we are comets amongst the stars, burning in the atmosphere, hurtling toward love and hate, life and death.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“We're wicks of a candle doomed to burn out, but we should find solace in the fact that we created light while we were here.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“I find myself in the crossfire of history colliding.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“Carlita believes she's the final bullet in the chamber, but alas, she's the oak tree, sturdy and strong, roots of light digging into history and driving out the dark. Her scars make her beautiful and strong, her history builds her compassion and everything that has not yet killed her built her throne.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“There are no more heroes, only the violent ones and the few good men still left.” - Jesus Romez

“Look at this life of mine and you'll damn me, look at this soul of mine and you'll forgive me. Though you are no God, I do not expect you to.” - Jesus Romez

“I have learned evil is a learned behavior, passed down from generation to generation, starting with Adam and ending with Eve.” - Jesus Romez

“I am one of the many violent beasts, and as I look around me, I see monsters, they wear flesh white masks and stained teeth, their snarls are full of hunger, their nails cracked and broken. But look around you, and you'll find the los Muertos vivientes are not the only beasts that roam. They wear our hearts, our skin, our souls. Their eyes are blue and brown, their hair long and short. Monsters look just like us, hiding their fangs behind a blood-stained smile. And we thought the dark hid them? No, my amigo, light hides the monsters in plain sight, the rays of moonlight bask them in a cold glow, revealing what they always were.” - Jesus Romez

“I was born a damned man, foot in the grave, heart in the soil.” - Jesus Romez

“The dawn in my soul has risen red time and time again, I have lost myself to the dark and the lies I believed.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I have found that in the circus we dance and laugh, we jiv and we jive, but behind our painted smiles, and behind our painted nails, is blood and dirt from the graves we've dug while still alive.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I am just another clown of Borbasli's Siren Cove, dancing in a rainstorm, juggling knives and doubts.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“We flip the pages and hope to find the end of this torture, but as we read the prose and stare at the poetry, we learn in beauty there was only hidden intention.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I am so covered in blood I call paint, I am a wolf of painted smiles and curly red wigs.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“We're all stories in the end, bastards and cheats glorifying our damn tales. But they weren't never grand, in the end.” - Walt Burrick

“There ain't no sliver 'a light in this hollow abyss 'a me.” - Walt Burrick

“I am a king wearin' a crown 'a thorns, I never 'spected ta be the one on the damn cross, but here I am, a crucified corpse 'a all I've ever been. The boy 'a wonder, the innocent man tastin' the dark, and the wicked beast all beatin' in one damn chest.” - Walt Burrick

“I'm burnin' alive for these sins 'a mine, wolves are on the prowl for my wicked soul, but they were once sheep, I 'spose to these poor, sorrowed werewolves, I'm the damn moon.” - Walt Burrick

“Spare your sympathy for a damned man, I don't need no silver dollar, I don't need no rusted nickel, for I'm a crooked smile and a wicked blade, nuthin' more than an extension 'a these lives I've took.” - Walt Burrick

“I am swingin' on a rope 'a every lie I ever told, and if an angel were to hear knockin' on heaven's doors, they'd soon realize it was nuthin' but my corpse, thump, thump, thumpin' gainst the damn gates.” - Walt Burrick

"I'll tell ya what, when dark deeds stand on the horizon, stars don't shine like normal. Sure, they're still there, but they don't bring no wonder, only judgment as they gaze at us." - Walt Burrick

"Murphy, look. You're a criminal, there's no denying that, and I'm F.B.I. Neither of our boots are standing on a good place to be. But, I have been told that if you come with me, you drop that gun of yours and, and surrender yourself willingly; that we can get your boots where they're supposed to be. Because right now, Murphy, you and I? We're on thin fucking ice." - Alfred Godsel

"Ah, hello darkness, my old friend. Faring just as well as usual, I would imagine?" - Alfred Godsel

"Oh that ain't heaven at my door. Ain't hell, neither. No, I would imagine not. Just an old friend of mine... Old friends, actually. Darkness, greed and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close." - Alfred Godsel

"Some days you're up, some days you're down, but no matter what, you always got the chance to stand." - Alfred Godsel

"Oh, holdin' a clean knife don't get you very far." - Zafavri Holts

"Come on, I'm a weapon, and weapons don't weep." - Zafavri Holts

"Life beats ya down, it do, but I say, face the challenge, cause it ain't the bark in the dog that counts, it's the love." - Montgomery Dalton

"Have we all been damned or is that just living?" - Murphy Joy

"You are the goblet that never runs dry, my friend. And I will drink from your pain." - Anadon Finch

"Heavy does my heart sit upon the scale, heavy are the secrets that made it so." - Mason White "Payin' the devil's price ain't much ta pay when you forget you ain't your past." - Mick Fallbrook

"I fear I am a reflection of my vengeance." - Diamond Valos

"Justice ain't no lady, nor is redemption, twisted, battered whores they are, caught in a wicked dance." - Sampson O'Connel

"No one cares for the breathing man, they'll scorn you above soil and weep when you're below it." - Burasbley Highersman

"Evil's on my mind, blood is on my hands, and I'm livin' by a crimson stained gun." - Decazle DeLillium

"Set fire ta the roses 'a the graves I've made and tell all who stand in my way, I'm comin' home." - Zachary DeLillium

"When life crumbles, you got to wonder what it's worth." - Bennington Shillow

"I suppose dead men don't speak and nor shall I." - Turner Kordell

"Ever since I was a boy the streets were my home, the rain was my only comfort, the roaring of the highway my only friend." - Kobi Grant

"Look, kid, you try to be more than yourself, you'll end up less than yourself." - Kobi Grant

"You know, home isn't always where you lay your head, it's where you lay your heart." - Shalko Valwit

"Trust me, no man ever wishes for pain, nor do they dream of it. But unfortunately for you, Chance. This is a nightmare." - Karl Vadibrinski

"I am many things, and I suppose for you, I'm a cold midnight grave, left desolate in the cemetery." - Karl Vadibrinski

"The shadows will swallow you whole before ever you are blinded by the light of your dreams." - Karl Vadibrinski

"Take the higher road the powerful say, acting as if they took it all along." - Milo Vadotil

"Look where dreamin' got Icarus." - Theodore Holymann

"When I stand before God, I will have to justify the time I spent on this Earth, and I'm afraid, I won't be able to." - Jarvis McGregor

"I'm starting to realize, I'm no better than those who put me through the ringer and told me I wasn't enough." - Jarvis McGregor

"So, here I sit, at the bottom of the deep blue sea, wondering when the sharks will smell the blood on my fists. Will they drag me to shore, or will they rip and tear at my flesh until I am no more? Can you trust a shark within it's natural habitat, can you trust the wolf not to tear into the sheep?" - Jarvis McGregor

"It's a feeling I won't ever forget. Knowing something bad is going to happen, and it's going to be all your fault." - Isiah McGregor

"I guess some folks are meant for prison, their lives are broken from the start and on the highway they live, prison is the simple destination in which they've been headed for ever since they were born." - Isiah McGregor

"No one was asked if they wanted to walk this Earth." - Leopolo Diamon

"Funny how age kills dreams and rips them asunder." - Leopolo Diamon

"Funny, how we must fall is we are ever to rise again, and we must first break, if we ever wish to be whole... So I ask one question, when shall I be whole, for I have broken a dozen times, and yet, I am unable to carry every piece in my arms, so I simply must leave them behind." - Hargrove Solomons

"Every man is accountable for his sins, whether he has nothing but lint in his pocket or a billion dollars in his bank, I lived, to ensure, everyone was accountable, I was the angel of death, the judge, the jury, and the executioner, and no stone would go unturned, no man, left alive." - Hargrove Solomons

"I'm the chicken inside of the pen, and yet, I'm the fox stalking the damn night, and I don't know which one 'a us will fucking win." - Rodriguez Brickjaw

"There ain't no more soldiers, just men with violent hearts we can't call broken anymore." - Duke Benson "Swing me from the gallows, eh? It's da only fing you can do for a damned man." - Jerry Benson

"Strange, in'it, how when a soldier asks God where he went, all he hears is gunfire. And perhaps that's God's voice, the language 'a war the only tongue he knows." - Mordakai Benson

"Love is worth a helluva lot more than hate." - Phillip Scarrow

"I was always the outcast, the cat in a room full 'a dogs." - Chad Broker

"Trust gets you nowhere, no matter who they say they are, who they claim to be, there's always something hiding just behind the damn smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a warning." - Andera Malikson "Songs of war knock at your door, my friend. Dare you answer them?" - Valskirrith Deskgrottir "Death is a wild hound, smelling blood on the battlefield before it was ever spilled." - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

"When faced with death, you smile back and pull the trigger." - Clayborne Pettygore

"I hold life and death in my hands, and they slip often, these days." - Zacharia Von Shelton

"I suppose on the battlefield we're all legends, fighting for our right to history." - Nolan Vanberg

"The day we die ain't no cloudy sky, ain't no storm ridden path. When we pass on, and the world reclaims us, the sun will be high in the sky, smilin' at the world as she always do. There is no beauty in death, but it does not take the beauty from the world." - Brock Snipersway "Bein' damned is a good enough reason to keep marchin. So march." - Brock Snipersway

"The light at the end 'a the tunnel is just another runaway train, and I chase it with reckless abandon, refusin' ta believe it'll run me down." - Mikaelson Graves

"We let the sinners in the stable, and the story of faith was twisted into a blood written tale." - Alex Hoffs "Be holy, they say, be goot, but as soon as ya defy their order, they fuckin' defy themselves." - Aggemuth Williamson "Don't dare forget that dark souls once knew the light." - Brayton Oakes "In your presence, I have learned death is not equal nor is it fair. You have twisted the meaning of death from peace to control." - Lucian Void

"We are pawns in a game we are meant to lose." - Lucian Void "They say the dark slowly eats away at the light. But in this place? There was no loving God to say let there be light in the first place." - Hilton Kingrey

"People, they're just like flowers, you see. You put em in the wrong soil, they whither and writhe, no matter how much water you give em. But you put em in rich, heartful soil, and they'll start to bloom. They'll embrace the rain, the storm, the tramplin', cause it helps em grow. Sure, some days they'll bend down, hidin' from the sun, and other days, the shadows'll leave em cold. But ya just gotta give em time. If a flower's dyin', ya change the soil, not the flower. It's same with man." - Wilford Straw

"I have seen all this world has to offer, and yet, I hold nothing." - Jolene Paquil "What a fall from heaven, my life has been." - Killis Richens "Jou think ze devil vould valk freely whilst Olympus still roams? Vith men like him infesting ze Earth, it's no vonder God abandoned us." - Cillian Suchett "The thing that sets me apart from the bad men, is that I don't want to be a monster, I just am." - Alfonso O'Sullivan "Burn the witch, they say, damning the girl who didn't do a thing, whilst the man who pulled the trigger stands, smirking within the shadow of the flame." - Yotsuki Brightburn "You were dead the day you promised my mother glory in Valhalla, dooming her to a purgatory in Hellheim by making a mockery of her death. And thus, my friend, I shall make a mockery of you." - Valskirith Deskgrotirr "You say your blood runs black, but we'll see how much you lie when I cut your throat." - Barley Teatherhall

"Sinners and thieves never win, they say. But it is the wolf that claims the sheep, the hunter that catches the prey. Who's to say we won't re-write the definition of winning?" - Wendell Blackvalley

#Writing #author #characters #characterlines

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i-luv-stars · 5 years

Text

Serendipity (Pt. 1)

You are an immortal who has spent your life travelling, forced to find your home in different places around the world. One day, you meet a certain God of Mischief. What follows is a friendship that spans centuries.

Warnings: a teaspoon of fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: I have no idea how age on Asgard works, but imagine Loki as 17/18 (in human years) in this chapter. Reader is a couple years older (looks-wise).

Italy. 1480

The sky was impossibly dark. Rain pounded at your back with unnecessary ferocity. In the distance, lightning crackled.

You pulled your hood over your head and continued walking, to where you did not know. The dirt road below you had turned to thick mud, and the scarce trees overhead offered little solace from the unrelenting rain. Your cloak flew behind you in the fierce wind. It wasn't until you tripped for the fifth time that you finally let your tears flow.

You allowed the heavy sobs to rack your frail body. The wind carried away your desperate screams as if they were nothing. Your bones burned and every muscle in your body ached. You knew you were too tired to go on any longer.

And so, you lied down in the black mud and let the rain pelt at your skin freely.

Keeping your eyelids open was not a battle you cared to win. But before you succumbed to your exhaustion, you issued one final plea.

Oh god have mercy, you prayed, and let me die before the sun rises.

Alas, it was not to be.

You were awoken by someone shaking you, roughly. The sound of muttered voices reached your ears. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes.

“Mother have mercy! I thought you were dead!” Two small blue eyes stared down at you from within a very round, pale face.

He was a pageboy, you realised. Beside him was a young girl, dressed in servants clothing.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no voice came out. Your throat was raw and aching, battered from the cold winds the night before. You rubbed at it with your hands.

‘Oh, you poor thing. You must be terribly sick. It’s a wonder you even survived out here.” This time it was the girl who spoke. Her voice was sweet and high pitched, like a bird’s.

Suddenly, the boy was wrapping his arms around your back and hauling you to your feet. Your legs, still stiff and numb, tingled as you stood.

You were up for no longer than a minute before the pageboy began to walk, talking as he did so. “Do not worry, there is no need to speak.” He reassured you. “I am Luce, and this is Sabina.” He gestured to the girl, who nodded with a smile, before continuing, “We are employees of the Amoretto family. Surely, you must of heard of them, yes? They are renown throughout Italy for their immense wealth.”

Unfortunately, you could only shake your head. Your mind was foggy and muddled. The family’s name was certainly not familiar to you.

The girl offered you a reassuring smile. “Lord and Lady Amoretto are generous people. They may allow you to stay with us until you get well again.”

You wondered whether this Lord and Lady were really as generous as the girl claimed. In your experience, wealthy people were hardly the hospitable type.

“Ah, here we are. See?” Luce’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You followed his line of sight.

What met you there was enough to take your breath away.

Just ahead of you was an enormous castle, it’s red brick walls stretching far across the horizon. Two towers emerged from its main body, branching upwards towards the clouds.

Sabina must have noticed your sharp intake of breath. She gave you a quick look and giggled before running off towards the castle. “I will inform the Lord and Lady we have a visitor.” She shouted back at the two of you.

As you and Luce neared closer and closer to the castle, your stomach began to churn. You had a feeling more awaited you beyond those walls than just friendly hospitality.

—————————————————————

Upon first seeing you, Lady Amoretto was certainly not impressed.

“Luce, what is this dirty girl doing here? She is getting mud all over the floor!” She shrieked.

Your cheeks flushed as, with horror, you remembered that you must look atrocious.

However, before you could attempt to speak, Luce explained your awful predicament. He spoke of how he had found you this morning towards the outskirts of the castle grounds. When he had first seen your frail figure and pale skin, he had thought you to be dead. In fact, if it was not for him so gallantly offering his help, you most likely would be.

At this, the Lady turned to you. “You survived out there, all alone, in that terrific storm?” She said, her words tilting upwards in astonishment.

You nodded meekly.

“Child, that is scarcely possible.” The Lady exclaimed, looking directly into your eyes. “My stable-boys have told me that the winds and rain last night were so wicked, several of our horses died as a result. Pray tell, how did a small creature like you travel in that storm and live to tell the tale?”

The answer, of course, was that you were no ordinary human. There was a power, ancient and mysterious, that ran through your veins. But, even if you could speak, you would not divulge any of this to Lady Amoretto. She was already staring at you as if you had performed a miracle.

“My Lady, she has lost her voice.” Luce commented, “Her throat must still be aching from the cold.”

The Lady allowed her eyes to wonder over your face for a while longer, before finally offering you a warm smile. She appeared to have decided what to do with you.

“Of course,” she remarked, “If I were to turn you away after everything you have endured, I feel like I would be ignoring the will of God himself. You must stay with us until you are well again.”

Then, she yelled for Sabina. The girl was at the Lady’s side immediately.

“Get this girl washed and cleaned up.” She ordered, turning to the young maid. “Then, you may show her to one of our guest rooms. Fetch her a gown and have her look presentable by supper. She will dine with us tonight.”

And with that, she exited the room, the large wooden doors slamming shut behind her.

Sabina led you upstairs. Marble statues and richly coloured paintings decorated the hallways. Above you, gold banners and portraits of noblemen and women hung from the walls. In all your years, you had never been inside such a place. As you walked, Sabina talked about Lady Amoretto’s generosity, and how joyous she was that you would be staying with them. What was responsible for her excess excitement, you were not sure. Perhaps she saw in you a potential friend. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that befriending you was not a wise idea.

After you had passed what seemed like hundreds of doorways, you finally came to a stop.

“And this is your room.” The young maid announced, opening the door.

Every last breath you were holding left your lungs as you stepped inside.

The room was enormous. The walls were painted in shades of the deepest blues and golds. The bed was large and made of the finest wood, framed by embroidered curtains. You even had your own private room for bathing. You were not aware that such luxuries even existed.

Sabina noticed your wondering eyes. “I’ve given you our finest guest room,” she giggled, “but I am sure the Lady will not mind. She seemed to take quite a liking to you, earlier.”

You returned her words with a large smile. It was the least you could do.

Not more than five minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the warm water of the bath. This was the second time the bath had been filled, the first lot of bath water, in which you had scrubbed at your mud-caked skin, had become so dirty that it had to be drained almost immediately.

Now, you were resting against the edge of the basin. Sabina ran a comb through your wet hair, preparing the silky tresses to be ready for braiding later. The scent of primrose oil tickled your nose. They must have poured it into the water earlier.

“I sent your old clothes off to be burnt.” Sabina whispered as she gently tugged at a knot. “I hope you don't mind.”

You waved a hand, reassuring Sabina that she was not to worry. Closing your eyes, you sunk deeper down into the warm water.

“You are so lucky…” Sabina gushed behind you. “Tonight, you will get to dine at the Lord and Lady’s table. And meet their son.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow. Son?

“Alessandro…” Sabina gushed. The mention of his name seemed to make her breathless. “He has the most wonderful blue eyes, and long, brown hair. Oh, what I would give to be able to dine at his table. Even just to have a conversation with him…”

You chuckled as Sabina launched into a long recount of the many admirable qualities she believed the man to possess.

It sounded like someone was in love.

Well, you thought, if Sabina was worried about you stealing the heart of the young lord, it was fruitless. There was only one boy you had ever loved. And he had died, many, many years ago.

Your jaw clenched at the memory. You were determined to never love another.

After your bath, you were dressed in a thick, silk gown. The soft material on your freshly scrubbed skin felt like heaven. You had to stop yourself on more than one occasion from letting out a moan of pleasure.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Sabina, who had left for the kitchen earlier, entered. She now held a small cup in her hand, full of steaming liquid.

“I thought this might help, for your throat.” She said, setting the cup down beside you.

You gave her a smile of thanks, gently lifting the hot beverage towards your lips. The sweet smell of honey and spices engulfed you. As you drunk, the harsh aching in your throat seemed to dim.

Sabina watched as you eagerly finished the cup.

“Try to speak.” She said.

“T-thank you.” You whispered. Your eyes widened as you realised the beverage had worked.

Sabina grinned widely, her big eyes lighting up. “I knew it would work. That’s my special recipe, you know.”

“Well, you are very clever.” You spoke, your voice still gentle. “I have never seen such an effective cure for a sore throat.”

The blonde-haired girl giggled. “Now that you are no longer a mute, you must tell me your name.”

You hesitated. “My name is… Y/N.”

Her eyes widened. “It is a very pretty name, but one I have never heard before. Where are you from?”

This was what you had been afraid of.

“I-I can’t remember.” You stuttered. “I must have hit my head the other night. Whenever I try to think back, everything is blank. It’s all very confusing.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Sabina cried, distress lacing her voice. “Do you remember anything about your family?”

You shook your head. On cue, tears began to well in your eyes. You were good at this lie. It was one you had practised many times before.

Sabina wrapped you into an embrace.

“Hush,” she whispered, trailing her fingers through your hair, “everything will be okay.”

You were just about to reply when the sound of bells rang throughout the room.

“That’s the call for supper.” Sabina muttered. “Come, we must get you ready.”

—————————————————————

Like the rest of the castle, the dining room was nothing short of decadent. As you sat waiting for your food, you couldn’t help but admire the artwork that hung from the walls.

Your attention was soon diverted when a servant placed a bowl of soup in front of you. The scent of exotic spices drifted towards your nostrils and made your mouth water.

A pang in your stomach reminded you that you hadn't eaten anything in days.

“Y/N, remind me of where you were from.” Lord Amoretto’s voice boomed from across the table.

“She can’t remember, dear. She has already explained this to us.” His wife said, placing a hand on his arm.

You nodded, picking up your spoon and dipping it into the creamy soup. “I still cannot remember much, but I do not wish to be a burden. I will leave as soon as I have regained my strength.”

“Nonsense.” It was now Alessandro who spoke. “A maiden as pretty as you? You may stay as long as you like.”

The rest of the table was silent.

You offered the young lord a weak smile of thanks before returning to your soup.

After dinner, you were returning to your room, belly full of food, when someone grabbed your arm. You turned around in a hurry.

It was Lady Amoretto.

“Y/N, follow me. I would like to speak to you.” She said, before dragging you by the sleeve into an empty hallway.

“Lady, have I done something to offend you?” You hesitantly asked. Something nagged at the back of your brain, a voice telling you that whatever she was about to say was not good news.

“Offend me? No, no, quite the opposite.” She reassured you.

Your mouth was halfway open, ready to speak, when you felt her soft hands on your cheeks.

“My son speaks the truth. You are very pretty.” She muttered. “When you arrived here this morning, you were as dirty as a peasant. But I saw your eyes and your face, and I guessed that underneath the mud and dirt was a beautiful young woman. That’s why I invited you to dine with us. And now, I see, that I was correct.”

Her hands still clutched your face. Her eyes were unmoving, staring directly into yours.

“My Lady, I thank you for your kind words. But is that why you have brung me here?”

She chuckled at that and finally dropped her hands. “No, if I wanted to simply pay you compliments I could do it across the dinner table. I have brung you here, because I have a proposition.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Alessandro,” she continued, “is in need of a wife. He is young, and handsome, and the heir to our fortune. Yet, our options for a suitable bride are limited. Currently, he is besotted with a young girl from Rome. They have met a couple of times. But, I do not like her.”

Your heart started thumping. You didn’t like where this was going.

“Her family is rich, but they are controlling. And Alessandro, he is my only son…” At this, the Lady began to weep. “If they marry, and he leaves for Rome, I know he will not return. But you… you are perfect. You have no family, no home. If he were to marry you, he could stay here forever.”

“I am not sure if that is wise-” you began.

“Nonsense. You are pretty, prettier perhaps than even the Roman girl. And Alessandro has already taken a liking to you.”

You shivered, thinking of the way the man’s eyes had lingered over your body at dinner.

“But, we have only just met.” You added, hoping that she would abandon her idea.

“I will go to my husband now and tell him what I have told you. If Alessandro believes this was his father’s suggestion, he will agree to the marriage.”

No, you thought. This can’t be happening. You reprimanded yourself for ever entering these castle walls.

“My Lady, I appreciate your offer, but I really think-”

But before you could finish, she grabbed your arm tightly.

“You will marry my son.” She commanded, stepping so close that you could feel her hot breath on your face. Her eyes turned to stone. “Because if you do not, you will be out. Out in the cold and the rain. And this time, God will not save you. For I will run you out of these grounds until you are deep within the forest, and if the storms do not kill you, the wolves will.”

Goosebumps rose along your flesh. Your mind screamed at you to run, to brave the dark nights and escape. You had been through worse. But then you remembered last night. How the rain had slashed at your back and how the cold had beat your skin until it was purple. You couldn’t do it again. You would rather die.

“Okay,” you stuttered, “I… I will do what you ask of me.”

Smiling, the older woman let go of your arm.

“Thank you.” She said, her eyes returning to normal. “You will not regret this, I promise.”

You waited until she was out of sight before you let yourself collapse.

—————————————————————

The next morning you awoke before sunrise. With a grimace, you realised that overnight your closet had been filled with gowns of various colours and materials.

A gift from the Lady to her future daughter, you guessed.

Hurriedly, you slipped one over your head. You did not bother to even run a comb through your hair before you wrapped your cloak around yourself and set out.

Close to the castle was a lake. The water that filled it was crystal clear, and the trees that surrounded it were alive with birdsong. It was here, by the lake, where you now sat.

Guided by the light of the slowly rising sun, you clasped your hands together in prayer.

Throughout the centuries you had spent on this Earth, you had heard tales of more gods than you cared to keep count of, and yet, you had never decided on one to believe in.

Now, however, you closed your eyes and prayed to every god you could think of.

“Please,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face, “whoever is listening. Please, help me. I don’t know what to do. I cannot marry this man. What will happen to me when he discovers I do not age? When he sees how my skin does not wrinkle and my eyesight does not worsen?”

Below you, the surface of the lake let out a faint ripple.

“And yet, I cannot run any longer…” You choked out through your tears. “I am too weak. Please, give me a way out. Please… give me an answer.”

You stayed kneeling like that for what seemed an eternity, praying to every god who would listen. When you couldn't take it any longer, you fell to the ground and began sobbing. Your hands covered your mouth as big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks and fell to the grass below.

“It’s always a pity, seeing pretty girls like yourself so distraught.”

What?

It was a voice, from behind you. Hurriedly, you turned around.

There was no one there.

You were not stupid. You had definitely heard something. It was likely one of the servants, teasing you.

“I heard you!” You yelled out, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “Show yourself!”

From deep within the trees came a low chuckle.

You were furious. You rose to your feet and started off towards the trees, determined to find whoever had been teasing you and-

Suddenly, a man appeared in front of you. Your face slammed into his chest and you fell to the ground with a shriek.

The man chuckled again.

Infuriated, you pushed your hair back from your face and looked upwards into the eyes of your tormentor.

You gasped in surprise.

The man in front of you was tall, with ebony black hair, and the greenest eyes you had ever seen in your life.

“Who are you?” You breathed out, staring into his eyes.

“Who am I?” He smirked. “Well, I’m only the god you’ve just been praying to for the last hour.”

You inhaled sharply. He must be insane, you thought. You had seen paintings of God, and they all showed him with a white beard and a glowing halo. Not at all like the man before you.

“I don’t believe you.” You spat.

“No?” The man replied. “Well then, how do I know this? Your name is Y/N. You were born more than two centuries ago, which makes you unusually old for a mortal. And you have spent the last 150 years walking around Europe, too scared to stay in one place in case somebody discovers your little secret-”

You jumped up and covered the man’s mouth with your hand.

“Be quiet!” You hissed. “Anybody could hear you!”

The man moved to lower your arm. His touch was cold.

“There is no need to be worried.” He laughed. “We are alone.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know all that? Have you been following me?”

“No. Well, not in the way you’re thinking…”

You had heard enough. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and pushed him until he was up against a tree.

“You are going to tell me who you are and how you know everything about me, and you are going to do it now. Do you understand?” You glared into his eyes as you spoke.

Despite being significantly larger than you, the man struggled. “Well, I certainly didn’t know how strong you were…”

You shoved him further into the tree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. My name… is Loki. And I wasn’t lying before. I am a God… sort of.”

Your eyes widened at this.

“But I didn’t suddenly appear because you prayed to me.” He continued. “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes things get boring on Asgard. I like to come down here and play tricks on people. Then, one time, I saw you. And then, the next time I came down, I saw you again. I remembered what you looked like because, well… you are rather good-looking…” He stopped to smile at you.

“I am not interested in compliments from you. Continue speaking.”

“Fine. I saw you the second time and, at first, I didn’t think anything of it. But then I realised, almost fifty years had passed. And you still looked the same. So, I got curious. I began to visit Midgard- I mean, Earth- more often. I followed you.”

“You have been following me all these years?! Why? What is so interesting about watching me travel from village to village?”

“I’ve already told you.” The man sighed, exasperated. “Asgard can be awfully boring sometimes. It’s humorous to see the mundane lives of humans. And, I wanted to check you were still alive. I was curious about how long a mortal could cheat death. Now, will you please let go of me?”

Reluctantly, you loosened your grip on his shoulders.

“Why have you only decided to show yourself now?” You questioned.

The man, Loki, smirked. “Your crying was getting annoying. I couldn’t stand by and listen to it for any longer.”

You glared at him.

“Relax, I’m only jesting.” He said, smiling. “Besides, I figured you could use my help.”

“You would help me?” You asked, your voice heavy with disbelief.

“Yes. I have a proposition…”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “The last time somebody told me that, it did not end well.”

Loki chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I think you might agree to this one.”

You turned to look him in the eyes. “Fine. What is it?”

“I will help you escape this castle, and I will take you somewhere where you will never have to hear or worry about that awful family ever again.” He said, meeting your eyes with his. “In return, all I ask… is that you sleep with me.”

“What!?” You gasped.

“Sorry, did I misspeak? Do you call it something else here?”

“No,” you growled, “I understood you perfectly well. I was simply in disbelief that you would dare utter such a thing.”

“You are being unreasonable.” Loki declared. “I am offering you an escape, a respite from this horrible predicament you find yourself in… all I ask is for one night with you.”

The anger that filled your body was so intense you were surprised you didn’t shake with rage.

“I don’t need your help!” You yelled. The god jumped in surprise. “I have survived for centuries without you, and I certainly don’t need you now. You should go and find another woman to spy on, for if I see you again, I will kill you myself.”

“I would like to see you try.” The green-eyed man jeered.

You turned back to him, your cloak whipping behind you. “Leave!”

Loki would have continued to tease you, if it were not for the dangerous glint he saw in your eyes as you turned to face him.

“Fine,” he muttered, “if you don't want my help, that is your decision. But when thirty years pass and your husband’s family discover you haven’t aged, do not blame me when they burn you at the stake!”

And with that, he was gone.

—————————————————————

A week had passed since your strange encounter with the god. Since then, every day had seen you consumed with talk about your upcoming wedding.

There was so much that needed to be done. Fine silk for your wedding gown had to be specially ordered from Rome, animals had to be hunted and prepared for the ceremony feast, and invitations had to be sent out to noble families across the country.

But, the most pressing issue, according to Lady Amoretto, was that you still did not have a portrait.

“Every fine woman in Europe has their portrait painted and hung on their walls.” She had told you over dinner one night. “You will be no exception. I will request one of the masters to come here and do it.”

Alessandro had slung an arm over your shoulder. “What a fine idea, Mother. Of course, we must have my bride’s beautiful face on display for all to see!”

You had smiled and exclaimed that you were very excited.

Another lie.

Today was the day that you were to sit for your portrait. On the Lady’s request, a prestigious painter from Florence had arrived at the castle. He was currently downstairs, arranging his oil paints and waiting for you.

You, on the other hand, were in your room, staring at yourself in the mirror. Sabina had braided your hair and pulled it back tightly, before dressing you in the most elegant gown in your closet. Frankly, you thought the high collar and large sleeves made you look ridiculous. But there was nothing you could do about it now. You were already late.

“Y/N, darling, you look magnificent!” Lady Amoretto beamed as you entered the room.

“Thank you, my Lady.” You replied, bowing your head.

Standing behind your future mother-in-law was an old man. His beard was long and grey, and he wore a paint-stained apron.

“Y/N, dear, I would like to introduce you to Tomasso Vinci, the finest painter in all of Florence!”

The man gave you a warm smile and eagerly kissed both your cheeks.

“Mia bella!” He exclaimed, stepping back to look at you. “My Lady… when you asked me to paint the young woman’s portrait, you did not mention her beauty.”

You blushed and whispered your thanks. As Tomasso turned to sit beside his canvas, you couldn't help but feel there was something familiar about him, something that made you feel like you had met him before…

“My Lady, you must leave now.” Tomasso said, turning towards the older woman. “When I have finished painting, I will call for you.”

“Oh… of course.” Lady Amoretto stuttered, before walking towards the door. You guessed she wasn’t often ordered around.

Once she left the room, Tomasso gestured you over to the chaise lounge in front of him.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He insisted.

You sat down on the edge of the lounge, placing your hands in your lap. Your dress fanned out around you, displaying the elegant embroidering.

The painter’s eyes trailed over your gown before landing on your face. There, they lingered, taking in every detail of your features.

“Are you going to start?” You asked, growing uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes of course.” He reassured, picking up a brush. “Forgive me, I was getting lost in your eyes.”

You do not know how long you had been sitting there for, but you theorised it must have been several hours, at least. Your back was aching and your neck had grown stiff. Tomasso had been intensely focused on his painting, barely uttering a word to you the whole time.

“My apologies, but do you think we could… take a break?” You breathed out in desperation.

The painter’s eyes immediately went to you. “Are you uncomfortable?”

You nodded.

“Then of course, dear. You may rest. Here, why don’t you come see how the painting is coming along. I believe it may be one of my favourite ones yet.”

Eager to see the work of a master, you jumped up and wandered over. But, when you saw the artwork, the smile dropped from your face.

It was… horrible.

The canvas was covered in chaotic brushstrokes. Colours had been applied messily and blended without care, making it appear more like a child’s attempt at painting than a master’s piece.

You couldn't stop the gasp of horror from leaving your lips.

But, rather than being offended, the old man let out a chuckle.

A chuckle you had definitely heard before.

Before your eyes, Tomasso transformed.

Now, the man sitting in front of you was no longer wrinkled with age.

It was Loki.

“Did you like my Italian accent?” He said, his lips pulled in a mischievous grin.

“You vile beast!” You exclaimed, lashing out at his arm. “I told you to leave me alone!”

“Stop that,” he said, gripping your wrist, “there is no need to resort to violence.”

“You are lucky I do not strangle you.” You growled. “As if you did not offend me enough last time! And now, you have made me sit without moving for hours, all so you could paint that!”

“You don’t like it?” Loki pouted. “I thought it was rather good.”

“What are you doing here?” You demanded.

Loki grinned. “I have come to offer my help, again.”

“I already told you. I am not interested.” You declared, moving to leave. You had heard enough from him.

“Wait, wait!” The god called out as you neared the door.

You turned towards him, your arms crossed.

“I’ll help you for free. You won’t have to do anything. I promise.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “And why should I believe you?”

“Because… I’d feel guilty if I didn’t.” Loki admitted, glancing towards the ground.

You rolled your eyes, moving to grab the door’s handle. But something made you stop. You still didn't trust him, but… you were in desperate need of help.

“Fine.” You sighed, exasperated. “The wedding is due to take place next week. How do you propose I escape by then?”

Loki looked up, a smile playing at his lips. “Do not worry. I already have a plan.”

“Care to share what it is?” You said, lifting an eyebrow.

“All you have to do is go about your life like you already are. Don’t give anybody reason to be suspicious. I will come and get you when the time is right, and then we will escape.”

You weren't sure if you liked the sound of that. But what choice did you have?

“Fine.” You sighed.

A smile lit up his face.

“There’s just one more thing.” You said.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“You still owe the Lady a painting.” You smirked.

The grin fell from the god’s face. He swore aloud as he turned around to face the mess of a canvas.

You made to leave. “And, I’m expecting my eyes to look perfect, considering you love them so much!” You yelled back at him, before slamming the door behind you.

—————————————————————

For the next week, you spent every day waiting for Loki to come for you. You were suspicious of every stranger you saw, half expecting them to be the god in disguise. And yet, every night, you returned back to your bed disappointed.

Before you knew it, your wedding day had arrived.

You were awoken that morning by the smell of roasting meat. Evidently, the preparation for tonight’s feast had already begun.

“Y/N!” Sabina’s high-pitched voice called, as she ran into your room.

You rubbed at your eyes and groggily mumbled a greeting.

“Today is the day!” The maid exclaimed, throwing open your curtains. “Hurry, we have no time to waste. There is so much to do!”

You were still half asleep as she dragged you out of bed.

As you later found out, ‘we have so much to do’ really meant ‘we must transform you into an entirely different woman by this afternoon.”

After Sabina had woken you up, a trio of handmaidens had poured through your doors.

Instantly, your bath was filled and heated. Before you knew it, you were being stripped of your nightgown and shoved into the warm water. Two of the servants scrubbed at your skin whilst another massaged scented oils into your damp hair.

Once you had been cleaned and dried, every inch of your body was waxed. Whilst Sabina combed your knotty tresses, the other handmaidens polished your nails and plucked at your eyebrows. Floral scented perfume was applied to various areas of your skin.

By the time your dress arrived, you were already exhausted.

The gown was so heavy, it took all four of the girls to lift it over your head. Once it was fitted, they set to work on your hair. Your long locks were braided tightly and pinned back, before being decorated with aubrieta buds and daisies. Finally, your cheeks were powdered and your lips painted with vermillion.

When, at last, you were able to look in the mirror, you did not recognise yourself.

Your gown was elaborate. Made of the finest red silk and embroidered with gold thread, with lace sleeves that draped towards the floor.

The tight style of your hair made your facial features more clearly stand out. You took in your bright eyes, the curve of your lashes, the angle of your cheekbones.

You blinked in disbelief. You had always been told you were pretty, but it wasn’t until now that you had ever really believed it.

“Come,” Sabina said, gently taking your hand, “the ceremony is about to begin.”

—————————————————————

Your heart had never beat so fast in your life.

You stood before a set of large, engraved wooden doors. Once they were opened, you would be met by rows and rows of people. Noblemen and women from around Italy, families from the surrounding villages, even the castle’s servants. Hundreds of people were in attendance, all waiting to see Alessandro Amoretto’s bride, the mysterious girl who claimed to have no family, no home. They would all be judging you, you knew, as soon as you stepped through those doors.

Your eyes began to shine with tears.

You were never supposed to be standing here. You were supposed to be somewhere far, far away by now.

You mentally cursed Loki. He said he would help you escape. He had promised you. The bastard.

But then, you directed your anger towards yourself. How could you be so foolish? You weren't friends with the man, you hardly even knew him. Of course he wasn’t going to help you. He was probably somewhere now, laughing with his friends and telling them about the human girl he had tricked.

Suddenly, music began playing.

You knew what that meant. Quickly, you wiped away your tears.

The doors opened.

As you made your way down the aisle, every head in the hall turned to look at you. You heard hushed whispers, muffled gasps of surprise.

Just look ahead. Focus.

Alessandro stood at the front of the room, staring at you intently. He wore a red tunic and knee-length boots, and his shoulder-length hair was tied at the nape of his neck. His family crest, embroidered in gold, covered his chest.

When you stepped up and took your place across from him, he winked at you.

You gave a weak smile before looking at the ground.

Standing in between the both of you was a priest, bald-headed and wearing a white robe. As he rose his arms to address the audience, the gold sashes slung across his shoulders billowed.

You did not pay attention to the words he spoke. Instead, you stared at your feet, willing away the tears that burned at your eyes.

Eventually, the priest’s eyes turned to you. “Do you, Lady Y/N, accept this man as your husband?”

“Yes,” you whispered, “I do.”

“And do you, Alessandro of the house Amoretto, take this woman as your wife?”

Alessandro smiled, his blue eyes crinkling. “Yes,” he beamed, “I do.”

“Well then,” the priest muttered, “that makes what I am about to do rather unfortunate.”

Your eyes lifted towards the priest in astonishment. Could it be?

“What do you mean by that?” Alessandro demanded.

“I am afraid that I cannot allow this young maiden to marry you.” The priest declared, his voice deepening.

At that, the audience let out a collective gasp of shock.

The priest’s plump figure began to transform before your eyes.

You couldn't believe it. A grin broke out across your face.

Suddenly, Alessandro grabbed you. The sharp sound of a weapon being drawn echoed around the room, and you felt a blade being pressed against your throat.

“Unhand her.” Loki demanded, glaring daggers at your groom. “Now.”

“My wife will not be going anywhere with a demon like you.” Alessandro spat. “I would rather kill her myself.”

“A demon?” Loki cried, incredulous. “You are a fool, aren't you?”

“Leave, you wicked creature!” Lord Amoretto’s voice yelled from the crowd. “Or I will have my hounds set on you!”

The god simply rolled his eyes.

Angered, Alessandro dug the edge of the blade further into your throat. You choked out in desperation.

“I told you to unhand her.” Loki growled, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, Alessandro was sent flying backwards. His sword flew from your throat and hit the floor with a clang.

“You bastard!” You choked out towards the man, rubbing at your now indented throat.

The crowd was yelling now. Some began to run towards you, anger in their eyes.

“You do still want to leave, don't you?” Loki said, turning towards you.

“Yes!” You cried. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

“Just checking.” Loki grinned, grabbing your hand with his.

Then, before you knew it, you had both disappeared.

You opened your eyes.

Your surroundings were mostly dark, save for a few flickering candles.

You had no idea where you were.

Two arms were wrapped tightly around your waist. Loki’s.

You went to step away, but before you knew it, your world was spinning and you were on the ground.

“Don’t worry,” Loki said, lifting you to your feet, “it is normal to get dizzy after teleporting.”

Teleporting?

“Where are we?” You asked, brushing off your dress.

“Paris.”

“Paris?!”

“Well, technically, a village just outside Paris.” Loki clarified.

“Would you mind explaining to me what just happened?” You pleaded. “Everything is… very confusing.”

The god smirked. Something he did an awful lot, you realised.

“I just saved you. Like you wanted. I teleported us, using magic. Right now, we are standing in an abandoned cottage in France.”

You eyed the man suspiciously. “If you could just teleport me anywhere, at any time, why did you have to wait until the ceremony to do it?”

“Two reasons,” Loki answered with a grin, “first of all, I like to make a scene. It’s more fun that way. And second, I wanted to see you all dressed up. It would have been a shame to let such a lovely gown go to waste.”

“Has anybody ever told you how insufferable you are?” You huffed.

“Oh, relax,” the raven-haired man sighed, “I saved you before your wedding night, didn’t I? Be glad you weren't made to consummate your marriage.”

You couldn't help but blush.

Loki turned to you, a smile playing at his lips. You noticed how green his eyes looked in the candlelight.

“Do you think you might have… changed your mind?” He asked.

You tilted your head in confusion. “About what?”

“About my earlier proposition.”

“No!” You answered, whacking his arm.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, rubbing the spot where you had hit him. “I just thought you might be feeling generous…”

You rolled your eyes in his direction.

For a short while, you both sat in silence.

Eventually, Loki spoke. “I guess I better be going, then.”

“Oh.” You exclaimed. “To where?”

“Asgard. My family is probably wondering where I have been.”

“Where is this Asgard you speak of? I have never heard of it.” You queried, intrigued.

He waved a hand. “That is a rather long story.”

Silently, you wished he would take the time to tell you. You thought about the long, lonely nights and days that awaited you. It would be nice, to sit here and listen to his voice for a while.

But, to your dismay, he got up to leave.

“Will I ever see you again?” You asked.

“Maybe. It depends on whether I get bored again or not.”

You couldn't have that be the last thing he said to you.

“Loki, wait.” You whispered.

He turned to you expectedly. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He said, the excited glint in his eyes fading.

To his surprise, you pulled him into a hug.

“I just wanted to say, thank you.” You breathed. “You really did save me back there. Even though you hardly know me.”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s alright, really. It was actually kind of-”

“It was the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me.” You choked. Tears fell down your cheeks.

Loki’s mouth dropped. No one had ever cried about something he’d done before. Well, not happy tears, anyway. He was unsure of what to do.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, hugging you tight. “You’re safe now.”

After a minute, you let go.

“You have to leave now, I suppose.” You sniffled, straightening up.

“Right…”

You glanced at the floor, wiping at your tears with your sleeve.

“Y/N… you will see me again. I promise.”

“When? Next century?” You asked.

Loki laughed. “If you’re still alive by then.”

You let out a small smile. “Oh, I will be. Believe me.”

Softly, Loki lifted your chin up. “I don’t doubt it.” He whispered.

And then, with one final look into your eyes, the god snapped.

Just like that, he was gone.

#loki #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fandom #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #endgame fanfic #tom hiddleston

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jmlongworth78 · 4 years

Text

An Agape Feast for Pentecost

INTROIT

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · 5.31 Introit - A Rushing Mighty Wind

WELCOME

We come as different people to serve One God, who calls us to unity as the family of God.

GATHERING SONG

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · 5.31 ELW407 O Living BreathOf God

CALL TO THE FEAST

One: Out of darkness came light

All: And the power of God was revealed

One: in the running wave and the flowing air,

All: in the quiet earth and the shining stars.

One: Out of the dust came life;

All: And the image of God was revealed

One: in the human face and the gentle heart,

All: in the warmth of flesh and the depth of soul

One: Out of justice came freedom;

All: And the wisdom of God was revealed

One: in the need to grow and the will to love,

All: in the chance to know and the power to choose.

One: And God looked at the creation,

All: And Behold, it was very good.

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · 5.31 There’s A Spirit In The Air

SCRIPTURE:

Acts 2:1-21

1When the day of Pentecost had come, [the apostles] were all together in one place. 2And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 5Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.” 14But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: 17‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out 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. 18Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. 19And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. 20The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. 21Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ ”

PRAYER OF ADORATION

Reader: I will keep on thanking God

With constant words of prayer.

I will glory in the living God:

The humble will hear and be glad.

One: Let us pray.

Living God, our loving parent; you cherish your creation

and we praise you.

With earth, air, water, fire: in our element as your children,

we praise you..

With our lips, with our lives,

in all our diversity, each one made in your image,

We praise you.

Because, in Jesus, you came to share

our human lives, our sorrow and joy,

we praise you.

Because your Spirit is at work today:

encouraging, enabling, surprising us,

We praise you.

poor as we are, you give us hope:

Salt of the earth, you give us meaning and purpose

and we praise you.

All: Amen.

SCRIPTURE:

1 Corinthians 12:3b-13

3bNo one can say “Jesus is Lord” except by the Holy Spirit. 4Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; 5and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; 6and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. 7To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, 9to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses. 12For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.

PRAYER OF CONFESSION

Reader: Salt is good, but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you

season it?

One: Giving God, you blessed us with saltiness,

All: But we became bland.

One: You trusted us with your Word,

All: but we did not keep it.

One: You lit a flame in our midst,

All: but we hid it under formality,

Smothered it with our fears.

One: God, in your mercy:

All: Forgive us.

(silence)

One: Forgiving God, we believe that you have called us

All: to be salt and light;

One: that you offer us time and space and strength

All: to begin again.

(silence)

One: Giving and forgiving God,

All. We thank you.

Reader: Have salt in yourself, and be at peace with one another.

PASSING THE PEACE

We offer each other a sign of Peace.

GIVING THANKS FOR THE WEEK

People are invited to call our single words or brief phrases of thanks for something that happened during the week. A simple response may be used such as “Generous God, we thank you.”

GOSPEL ACCLAMATION:

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · Setting 8 - Gospel Accl

SCRIPTURE:

John 20:19-23

19When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 21Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” 22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Sermon

youtube

REFLECTION

Each person at the meal is invited to share their response to the Gospel with these or similar words “I have seen dying and rising this week in...”

When all have shared, one participant prays for the things that arose in sharing.

THANKSGIVING SONG

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · 5.31 ELW401 Gracious Spirit, Heed Our Pleading

INTRODUCTION TO SHARING THE FEAST

Reader: We are all invited to the common table to share in an Agape Feast. At this table we come as brothers and sisters in the Holy Family of God. Taste and see that God is good.

The feast can be a loaf of bread (or oatcakes, or a sweet bread) and a chalice of wine (or cider, or grape juice). The bread and the cup are passed to one another. Each person serving the individual next to him or her.

PRAYER

(at the conclusion of each one drinking and eating)

One: As we share this bread,

as we pour out this water,

we thank you, God, for our daily bread

for the food which delights and nourishes us

and for the companionship that sustains us as followers of Christ.

We thank you, too, for drink

to quench our thirst

and for the Living Water

with which you surprise and enrich

and transform our lives.

We give thanks for this feast at which all

Christians can share, a foretaste of the

Holy Realm.

Amen.

LORD’S Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come,

thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread;

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us;

and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

The Rev. John Michael, OEF · 5.31 Comfort The People

BLESSING

One: Giving God,

bless all who have gathered round this table.

May we know the fullness of your presence

at every meal and in all our sharing.

All: Amen.

#Pentecost #Fire #Agape #Feast #Love One Another

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pamphletstoinspire · 5 years

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Padre Pio Prayer Groups and Spiritual Children - September Meetings

If you are interested in becoming a spiritual child of Saint Padre Pio and would like to join a Padre Pio Prayer Group - either in a spiritual manner or in person - we have initiated this page wherein you can choose either to pray along with us as a spiritual member of one of our six prayers groups or join us in person at one of the meeting sites. You can choose which group best suits your particular situation. Once you have decided to join a group - and if you are unable to attend the meetings - please send us your contact information using the contact form at the bottom of the home page in order for us to register you as a member of that prayer group and also as a spiritual child of Padre Pio. If you live in the Boston area and would like to attend our Prayer Group meetings below are the times and places when the meetings are held.

NOTE: WHEN PRAYING WITH A PARTICULAR GROUP - PLEASE ADJUST FOR YOUR TIME ZONE SO THAT WE CAN PRAY IN UNISON

We are official Padre Pio Prayer Groups under the auspices and guidance of the Archdiocese of Boston - Cardinal Sean O'Malley

The dates and times that the prayer groups meet are as follows - All are Eastern Standard Time

1. First Tuesday of The Month from 7 - 9 PM EST

ST. MONICA PARISH

212 LAWRENCE ST.

METHUEN, MA 01844

Questions please call the parish 978-683-1193.

2. First Wednesday of The Month from 7 - 9 PM EST

ST. MARY OF THE ANNUNCIATION PARISH 8 MYRTLE ST. MELROSE, MA 02176

Questions please call the parish 781-665-0152

3. First Saturday of The Month from 12:30 - 2 PM EST

The Carmelite Chapel in the Northshore Mall

210 ANDOVER ST.,

PEABODY, MA 01960

Questions please call the Gift Shop 978-531-8340

4. Third Saturday of The Month from 12:30 - 2 PM EST

THE CHAPEL OF OUR SAVIOR

475 WESTGATE DRIVE

BROCKTON, MA 02301

Questions please call Brother Thomas at the Chapel Gift Shop: 508-583-8357 ext 4.

5. Fourth Sunday of The Month from 1 - 3 PM EST

MARY IMMACULATE OF LOURDES PARISH

270 ELLIOT ST.

NEWTON, MA 02464

Questions please call the parish 617-244-0558

6. Fourth Thursday of The Month from 7 - 9 PM EST (Except in November and December when we meet on the third Thursday of the Month because of Thanksgiving and Christmas)

St. Anthony of Padua Parish (Chapel) 250 Revere St Revere, MA 02151

Questions please call the parish 781-289-1234

The following prayers are recited at Every Meeting:

1. The Rosary based on the Meditations of Padre Pio:

Click here for meditations

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_db77f305ce814584b901b1e8430dbbf1.pdf

The Five Joyful Mysteries are traditionally prayed on Mondays, Saturdays, and, during the season of Advent, on Sundays:

1. The Annunciation 2. The Visitation 3. The Nativity 4. The Presentation in the Temple 5. The Finding in the Temple

The Five Sorrowful Mysteries are traditionally prayed on Tuesdays, Fridays, and, during the season of Lent, on Sundays:

1. The Agony in the Garden 2. The Scourging at the Pillar 3. The Crowning with Thorns 4. The Carrying of the Cross 5. The Crucifixion and Death

The Five Glorious Mysteries are traditionally prayed on Wednesdays and, outside the seasons of Advent and Lent, on Sundays:

1. The Resurrection 2. The Ascension 3. The Descent of the Holy Spirit 4. The Assumption 5. The Coronation of Mary

The Five Luminous Mysteries are traditionally prayed on Thursdays:

1. The Baptism of Christ in the Jordan 2. The Wedding Feast at Cana 3. Jesus' Proclamation of the Coming of the Kingdom of God 4. The Transfiguration 5. The Institution of the Eucharist

YouTube - Glorious Mysteries

https://youtu.be/8mSeisxwkmU

YouTube - Joyful Mysteries

https://youtu.be/wtyWoskCAzY

YouTube - Sorrowful Mysteries

https://youtu.be/RJL2N7r2S4I

YouTube - Luminous Mysteries

https://youtu.be/AYhye5VLxZ8

Praying the Rosary - Familiarize yourself and/or your group with the prayers of the rosary.

The Apostles' Creed

I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.

The Our Father

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen

The Hail Mary

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

The Glory Be (The Doxology)

Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

The Hail Holy Queen (The Salve Regina)

Hail, holy Queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To you we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to you we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn, then, most gracious advocate, your eyes of mercy toward us; and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of your womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

Reciting The Rosary - You May Also Follow With YouTube Presentation Above:

Make the Sign of the Cross.

Holding the Crucifix, say the Apostles' Creed.

On the first bead, say an Our Father.

Say one Hail Mary on each of the next three beads.

Say the Glory Be

For each of the five decades, announce the Mystery (perhaps followed by a brief reading from Scripture) then say the Our Father.

While fingering each of the ten beads of the decade, next say ten Hail Mary's while meditating on the Mystery. Then say a Glory Be.

(After finishing each decade, some say the following prayer requested by the Blessed Virgin Mary at Fatima: O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.)

After saying the five decades, say the Hail, Holy Queen, followed by this dialogue and prayer:

V. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God. R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray: O God, whose Only Begotten Son, by his life, Death, and Resurrection, has purchased for us the rewards of eternal life, grant, we beseech thee, that while meditating on these mysteries of the most holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise, through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.

Diagram On How To Recite The Rosary - See Below

2. Chaplet of Divine Mercy

Click here for the Chaplet

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_8b3e3c2893638e5fd10bd9d166b12ce1.pdf

3. Prayer Before The Crucifix

Look down upon me, good and gentle Jesus, while before Thy face I humbly kneel and, with burning soul, pray and beseech Thee to fix deep in my heart lively sentiments of faith, hope and charity; true contrition for my sins, and a firm purpose of amendment.

While I contemplate, with great love and tender pity, Thy five most precious wounds, pondering over them within me and calling to mind the words which David, Thy prophet, said of Thee, my Jesus: They have pierced My hands and My feet, they have numbered all My bones." Amen.

Then - The following may be recited - (Prayers for the Holy Father) -

Our Father:

Hail Mary:

Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Glory Be to the Father (Doxology)

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

First Saturday Prayers: For those who observe the First Saturday of the month in honor of the Blessed Mother - the following prayers may be recited:

1. First Saturday Devotional Prayers

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_a72293f3a434423e9dc47f1df57ca945.pdf

Monthly Lessons:

Each month we discuss various topics of interest with the members of the prayer groups.

For September - below are the stories selected for the month:

1. Litany of the Exaltation of The Holy Cross

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_ee4f3c301ee44d0a8d0b1696550866cb.pdf

2. Litany of St. Pio of Pietrelcina

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_3e9c1495a90e4279b22d58ca4b685b2a.pdf

3. Devotion to The Holy Cross of Jerusalem

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_7d00088c836845728e08beef91c3a517.pdf

4. Sermon on The Cross of Jesus Christ Is Precious and Life-Giving

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_07bbb4aacb6c44dd868c898372a664dc.pdf

5. Story about Padre Pio

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_82702dd731c84a65bfb29a3ca10a2fa2.pdf

Link to Prayer Group Page for more details - music - diagram on how to recite the rosary.

https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/spiritual-children-of-padre-pio-1

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

#padre pio prayer group meetings

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 6 years

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Chance Meetings Chapter Nine

Reader and Turtles

Warning: Attempted Rape

As the clock struck 5 pm you were already halfway out the door heading for the familiar alleyway and the heavy manhole cover. Thankfully after a couple weeks of training with the boys and many of nights hauling that giant disk of metal from its home you had gotten stronger. Now the simple task of getting down into the sewers wasn’t as daunting.

Slipping into the shadows the manhole came into view just under the flickering light near the dumpster and you smiled at the thought of seeing Leo again in a few minutes. You had found it difficult to concentrate during the work day, your mind wandering to Leonardo often. His strong thighs his hot breath on your neck as he…. Ok ok calm down.

Lost in thought once again you didn’t hear the foot steps behind you as you knelt down to pull the manhole cover free. Before your fingers could hoist the metal disk you heard a chilling laugh sound behind you.

“Hey there pretty lady, I think we have some unfinished business we need to conclude.”

Before you could turn around you felt something hard hit the back of your head sending you into the unforgiving nothingness of sleep. You were in dip shit.

The heavy throbbing in the back of your skull sent sharp shooting pains to the base of your eyeballs as you came too. Slowly your eyes fluttered open coughing at the dusty floor your face was pressed against and the light stench of fish hung in the air making your nose wrinkle in disgust. Trying to sit up you found your arms and legs immobilized, zip tied together, your arms behind your back.

You tried to stay calm, but your heart had other plans as its steady beat began to rise rapidly. Your breath came in quick short pants bringing in the dust on the floor into your mouth making it taste horrible. “Calm down, first things first assess the situation.” You told yourself willing your breathing to return to normal. You could do this, you had only been kidnapped…..KIDNAPPED!

Turning a little onto your back you noticed there was another body lying next to you in the same unfortunate situation. Their back was to you but you could tell by the clothes and painted fingernails it was a woman and they were still blissfully unaware of the danger that both of you were now in.

Your eyes scanned the large empty room finding old canning equipment. You knew this place, it was the old canning factory on Doc 3. You and your friends would come here all the time when you were in high school to hang out and get away from your parents. You knew this place like the back of your hand. That knowledge made your thundering heart ease up just a little.

Now it was time to free yourself before anyone came back. Rolling back onto your shoulder blades you brought your knees to your chest and pulled your bound hands down and under your butt inching your hands under your shoes bringing them out in front of you. You had to remember the survival techniques Leo had shown you, you had to break free of these zip ties and get to the small blade that was hidden in your shoe. The blade all four of the turtles demanded you keep on you at all times. Your teeth found the extra tail on the long plastic restraint and pulled the zip tie tight as it would go and you slammed your wrists down on our stomach pulling your wrists in opposite directions, the inertia of it was enough to snap the white plastic freeing your hands.

Before you could get to your concealed knife you heard voices, reaching out you grabbed the remanence of your binding and placed your hands behind your back pretending to still be restrained. Shifting a little to your back you hid your wrists from view.

“Hey looks like one of ‘em is awake Nino.” You hear an arrogant voice call from a good distance away followed by several heavy footsteps closing in on you faster than you’d like. “Fuck.” You huffed out.

You watched as several rough looking men came into view sauntering up to your prone body looking down at you hungrily. Unwilling to show them the fear they desired you narrowed your eyes and spat at their feet.

Everyone threw their head back laughing at your defiance. “This one has spunk, I like that.” One of them smiled licking his lips like you were some sort of snack.

“Yeah, this one knocked out Kino and Lars by herself and almost got me.”

You recognized that bone chilling voice as is filtered past the group of men sizing you up. Clearing a path two of the men parted allowing that asshole who had nearly killed you, step into your line of vision. He was in black jeans and a dark blue tank top showing off his purple dragon tattoo on his left shoulder. Actually, you could see almost everyone one of them have some sort of purple dragon tattoo on their skin.

“Purple Dragons.” You hissed between your clenched teeth. You should have known. You had been watching their claw to power in the underbelly of the cities gang wars on the news. And now you were entangled in their bullshit as well.

He knelt down next to you gripping your chin painfully giving you a crooked smile. “The name is Nino my dear and you better learn it because you’ll be screaming it later. Thankfully for you and your friend here we have to wait until Hun gets back from his business meeting before any ‘fun’ can start. You see he gets first dibs and when he heard how much fight you had in you he wanted to be the one to break you, and he will do just that. Fun fact, Hun is a big guy, bigger than most in all sense of the word. He won’t be gentle, nor will he give you any mercy, but you will be screaming during it. And I look forward to those sweet shrills of agony as he abuses your body while the rest of us wait our turns. Now Luca here, I get her first and I have such plans for both of you. I told you we would finish what we started in that alley and as soon as boss man gets back, it’s party time.”

You could tell by the wicked look in his eyes he wasn’t bluffing, and you stiffened in sheer terror. Fuck that! Like you were gonna wait around for their gigantic boss to get back to rape you both! Poor Luca, she had no idea what was happening yet. You had to think fast. Ripping our chin from his grasp you rolled back and swung your legs up startling Nino just enough to make him lean back so your feet could come crashing into his mouth. The force of the blow from your feet sent him rolling backwards tumbling over a couple of his fellow henchmen in the process. Grabbing his now bleeding mouth he spewed a line of obscenities that would make even you blush.

“Fucking Bitch!” Nino screamed spitting the access blood from his weeping mouth onto the dusty floor below.

The swiftness of your moves caught the men off guard which gave you just enough time to slip your fingers into your shoe pulling out a small blade slicing through the zip tie on your feet like butter. You would have to thank the guys later if you got out of this alive. God you wished they were here, you were terrified.

“Jesus Christ! How were her hands already free?!” Nino growled scrambling to his feet. “Get her you morons!”

On your feet in a second you tore off towards the back of the plant leaving helpless Luca still unconscious on the ground. You were not strong enough to carry an unconscious woman and try to escape at the same time. You couldn’t help her right now, not if you got captured again. You just needed a few minutes to come up with a plan to get you both safely out of this mess...you hoped.

Making your way around a large rusty sealing machine you ran straight into a wall of unforgiving muscle. The force of the hit expelled the air from your lungs leaving you gasping. You fell back on your butt and felt your soul leave you as you stared up at the gargantuan hulk of a man you could only assume was Hun. Behind him stood 10 other men smirking down at you while Hun’s expression was much more sinister. His large fist raced towards your face and connected with a sickening thud making you see stars.

Stunned by the punch to your face you tired scooting back on your hands and feet dodging the cluster of hands that rained down on you yanking you to your feet. Now Hun was inches from your face his hot breath reeked of cigarettes and tuna. It made you wanna vomit. Again, his fist slammed into your face momentarily blinding you. The drip of something warm on your chin made you lick your lip, the coppery taste of blood filled your mouth, he had busted your lip open.

“So little one.” He cooed grabbing the back of your head fisting a large chunk of your hair yanking it back violently exposing the column of your throat to his gaze. “So eager for me to break you that you run to your doom.” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine making the nausea churn faster the in the pit of your stomach. “If you want it that badly let’s not waste any more time.” His hands yanked you forward crushing you in his hold. You felt his hot tongue connect with your flesh leaving a disgusting wet strip of his saliva from your collar bone to your left ear. Painfully his teeth clamped down on your ear lobe making your yelp in pain as he started you both backwards.

You squirmed in his arms and then tried to fall by letting your limbs give out, he would drop you and you could run again but you were horribly wrong. As your weight gave out he gripped your tighter holding your dangling body against his chest and continued his forward momentum. If only you could get your arms free, maybe you could shove the palm of your hand into the base of his nose breaking it, but they were pinned beneath his tree trucks he called arms. Hun reminded her of Raphael nearly matching the red turtle’s stature. But Hun wasn’t Raphael, Hun wasn’t the hard of the exterior and soft in the middle hothead and he was above to prove it because you saw what he was dragging you towards.

A dirty ripped couch lay a few feet from you and you scream when Hun threw you to it landing with a grunt. He was on you in seconds pushing your legs apart forcing his hips between them pressing your body down into the musty smelling cushions with a thrust of his pelvis. Your fist came up connecting with his jaw making him chuckle at your foolish attempts to free yourself. His large mitt found your wrists and pinned them above your head.

When you could feel the growing weapon in his pants that he ground down into your body you nearly threw up in your mouth. This was happening, he was going to brutalize you and then kill you. Soon his other hand trailed down your chest groping at your breasts, you could feel his breathing quicken on top of you, he was getting excited. The ripping of your shirt made you cry out ranking at your imprisoned hands. This wasn’t happening!

Then you stilled feeling a blade at your thigh, you made eye contact with the brute above you and he grinned down at you licking his lips. All the while his henchmen were egging him on in the background.

“Are you ready for me my dear?” he hissed pressing the blade through the fabric of your pants before pulling up ripping them open leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering hand. “Your futile attempts to break free only make me harder.” You felt his callous hand slide up your naked thigh and cup your mound and stopped, pushing up against the sensitive flesh. “I bet your fucking tight.” He groaned into your neck grinding his hard erection into the apex of your thighs.

“G-get off me you fucking asshole!”

Leaning down his lips grazed your ear his immense weight making it difficult to breath. “I’m going to fuck you now and I promise you won’t enjoy it.”

The sound of his pants unzipping sent your mind reeling in panic, whimpering you closed your eyes waiting for the inevitable, waiting for the pain. His fingers started to rip your underwear from your body.

“Fight…” you heard a voice in the back of your mind growl softly. Then a cloudy vision of Leo manifested itself in your mind. His blue eyes bore down on you with a look of determination. “Fight!” he growled again this time louder. “FIGHT!!”

“Fight!” you screamed to yourself and headbutted Hun before his fingers could rip away your underwear. His hollowing bellow was music to your ears and when he arched away from you in pain your angry fist sunk lower connecting with his erection.

This time the hulking frame above you rolled off howling in pain holding in now bruised junk. The laughing and sexual jeers from his men died off abruptly and they lunged for you.

You sprang off the couch and saw Luca a few feet from you awake and struggling. Her eyes wide with terror as they met yours. Two of the men got to you first their hands reached for you but missed as you took a sharp right darting away from their out stretched fingers.

The large room was littered with old relics of the canning factory; packing lines, shredding bins, sealing machines and you were an old pro at using them as a jungle gym. Dropping down you slid under the nearest hunk of machinery just narrowly missing another set of hands and jumped to grab a water line swinging up towards the shredding bins. You suddenly remembered you and your friends found a large blade they used to chop up larger pieces of tuna before it was dropped into the grinding machine. You prayed it was still there.

Landing near the old supervisor station you scanned the area for the large blade but found nothing. Then a glint of something shiny caught your eyes. Stuck between the panel of the power station and the floor board you found the blade wedged. You worked hard to free it hearing the gang members scrambling to reach your location. With one final yank it slipped free giving you a small edge against the growing mass of scumbags.

What time was it? The turtles should have been wondering where you were by now? You told Leo you would come over right after work? Where they out looking for you or were they still sitting at home oblivious to your absence?

The deafening roar of Hun brought you rushing back as he barreled towards you shoving past his henchmen. His eyes were on fire and he was out for blood, your blood. Grasping the old blade in your hand you readied yourself, it was now or never.

Calling upon your inner beast that lived deep inside you, you screamed rushing towards the onslaught of men. You swung the blade just like Leo had taught you imagining it was his katana seized tightly in your fingers.

With the narrow passageway of the staircase you managed to take care of several of the men, gaining a few cuts and gashes along the way. There were now two men between you and Hun and Nino was one of them. The rage that was building within you ruptured and you lunged for Nino tackling him sending the rest of the men including Hun tumbling backwards down the rest of the rusting stairs.

The blade you held now dripping with blood was dull from the years of neglect, but it did its job well enough. Nino was now screaming holding his nearly severed arm rolling around on the ground. Several of the man lay useless on the floor before you, moaning in pain their blood spattered over your clothes and hair. They had worked you over pretty well, not a limb on you was without some sort of cut or gash. You were tired, dirty and in pain, but you were not going to give up. Not if there was still breath in your body.

Several more Purple Dragons stood before you including Hun his fierce gaze locked in on you. In his fingers was a sharp knife ready for the taste of your flesh and he lunged tackling your back. You both rolled toppling over Luca who was screaming to be let go. Getting to your feet you saw Hun’s hand fly in front of you and felt the tip of the blade sink into the soft skin of your cheek ripping open a small gash. Twisting on your foot your spun giving Hun a roundhouse kick to his face sending him sailing backwards into a pile of boxes.

Not wasting time, you leaned down cutting Luca free of her binds and pulled her behind you ready to stop the next asshole that tried to hurt you both.

A special thanks to @blossom-skies for being my second pair of eyes.

Chapter Eight

#TMNT #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt fanfiction #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #oneshot

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claudz-vision · 4 years

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The Wonders of Calvary

GREAT God, there was a time when we dreaded the thought of coming near to Thee, for we were guilty and Thou wast angry with us, but now we will praise Thee because Thine anger is turned away and Thou comfortest us. Ay, and the very throne which once was a place of dread has now become the place of shelter. I flee unto Thee to hide me.

We long now to get right away from the world, even from the remembrance of it and have fellowship with the world to come by speaking with Him that was, and is, and is to come, the Almighty. Lord, we have been worried and wearied oftentimes with care, but with Thee care comes to an end, all things are with Thee and when we live in Thee, we live in wealth, in sure repose, in constant joy.

We have to battle with the sons of men against a thousand errors and unrighteousnesses, but when we flee to Thee, there all is truth and purity and holiness, and our heart finds peace. Above all, we have to battle with ourselves and we are very much ashamed of ourselves. After many years of great mercy, after tasting of the powers of the world to come, we still are so weak, so foolish, but oh! when we get away from self to God, there all is truth and purity and holiness and our heart finds peace, wisdom, completeness, delight, joy, victory.

Oh! bring us, then, we pray Thee, now near to Thyself. Let us bathe ourselves in communion with our God. Blessed be the love which chose us before the world began. We can never sufficiently adore Thee for Thy sovereignty, the sovereignty of love which saw us in the ruins of the Fall, yet loved us notwithstanding all.

We praise the God of the Eternal Council Chamber and of the Everlasting Covenant, but where shall we find sufficiently fit words with which to praise Him who gave us grace in Christ His Son, before He spread the starry sky. We also bless Thee, O God, as the God of our redemption, for Thou hast so loved us as to give even Thy dear Son for us. He gave Himself, His very life for us that He might redeem us from all iniquity and separate us unto Himself to be His peculiar people, zealous for good works.

Never can we sufficiently adore free grace and dying love. The wonders of Calvary never cease to be wonders. They are growingly marvellous in our esteem as we think of Him who washed us from our sins in His own blood. Nor can we cease to praise the God of our regeneration who found us dead and made us live, found us at enmity and reconciled us, found us loving the things of this world and lifted us out of the slough and mire of selfishness and worldliness into the love of divine everlasting things.

O Spirit of God, we love Thee this day, especially for dwelling in us. How canst Thou abide in so rude a habitation. How canst Thou make these bodies to be Thy temples, and yet Thou dost so, for which, let Thy name be had in reverence so long as we live.

O Lord, we would delight ourselves in Thee this day. Give us faith and love and hope that with these three graces we may draw very near to the Triune God. Thou wilt keep us, Thou wilt preserve us, Thou wilt feed us, Thou wilt lead us, and Thou wilt bring us to the mind of God, and there wilt Thou show us Thy love, and in the glory everlasting had boundless, there wilt Thou make us know and taste and feel the joys that cannot be expressed.

But a little longer waiting and we shall come to the golden shore. But a little longer fighting and we shall receive the crown of life that fadeth not away.

Lord, get us up above the world. Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly dove, and mount and bear us on Thy wings, far from these inferior sorrows and inferior joys, up where eternal ages roll. May we ascend in joyful contemplation and may our spirit come back again, strong for all its service, armed for all its battles, armoured for all its dangers, and made ready to live heaven on earth, until by-and-by we shall live heaven in heaven. Great Father, be with Thy waiting people. Any in great trouble, do Thou greatly help. Any that are despondent, do Thou sweetly comfort and cheer. Any that have erred and are smarting under their own sin, do Thou bring them back and heal their wounds. Any that this day are panting after holiness, do Thou give them the desire of their hearts. Any that are longing for usefulness, do Thou lead them into ways of usefulness.

Lord, we want to live while we live. We do pray that we may not merely groan out an existence here below, nor live as earthworms crawling back into our holes and dragging now and then a withered leaf with us, but oh! give us to live as we ought to live, with a new life that Thou hast put into us, with the divine quickening which has lifted us as much above common men as men are lifted above the beasts that perish.

Do not let us always be hampered like poor half-hatched birds within the egg. May we chip the shell today and get out into the glorious liberty of the children of God. Grant us this, we pray Thee.

Lord, visit our church. We have heard Thy message to the churches at Ephesus. It is a message to us also. Oh! do not let any of us lose our first love. Let not our church grow cold and dead. We are not, we fear, what once we were. Lord, revive us! All our help must come from Thee. Give back to the Church its love, its confidence, its holy daring, its consecration, its liberality, its holiness. Give back all it ever had and give it much more. Take every member and wash his feet, Sweet Lord, most tenderly, and set us with clean feet in a clean road, with a clean heart to guide them, and do Thou bless us as Thou art wont to do after a divine fashion.

Bless us, our Father, and let all the churches of Jesus Christ partake of like cause and tenderness. Walking among the golden candlesticks, trim every lamp and make every light, even though it burneth but feebly now, to shine out gloriously through Thy care.

Now bless the sinners. Lord, convert them. O God, save men, save this great city, this wicked city, this slumbering dead city. Lord, arouse it, arouse it by any means, that it may turn unto its God. Lord, save sinners all the world over and let Thy precious Word be fulfilled. “Behold He cometh with clouds.” Why dost Thou tarry? Make no tarrying, O, our Lord. And now unto Father, Son, and Holy Ghost be glory forever and ever. Amen.

#c.h. spurgeon #charles haddon spurgeon

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pope-francis-quotes · 7 years

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13th June >> Pope Francis' Message for First World Day of the Poor ‘Let us love, not with words but with deeds’ Photo Of Logo Of World Day Of The Poor Presented In Holy See Press Office - Photo By ZENIT (DCL) Below is the Vatican-provided text of Pope Francis’ Message for the first World Day of the Poor, which is to be celebrated on Nov. 19, 2017, on the theme: ‘Let us love, not with words but with deeds‘ *** Message of His Holiness Pope Francis for the First World Day of the Poor Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time 19 November 2017 Let us love, not with words but with deeds 1. “Little children, let us not love in word or speech, but in deed and in truth” (1 Jn 3:18). These words of the Apostle John voice an imperative that no Christian may disregard. The seriousness with which the “beloved disciple” hands down Jesus’ command to our own day is made even clearer by the contrast between the empty words so frequently on our lips and the concrete deeds against which we are called to measure ourselves. Love has no alibi. Whenever we set out to love as Jesus loved, we have to take the Lord as our example; especially when it comes to loving the poor. The Son of God’s way of loving is well-known, and John spells it out clearly. It stands on two pillars: God loved us first (cf. 1 Jn 4:10.19), and he loved us by giving completely of himself, even to laying down his life (cf. 1 Jn 3:16). Such love cannot go unanswered. Even though offered unconditionally, asking nothing in return, it so sets hearts on fire that all who experience it are led to love back, despite their limitations and sins. Yet this can only happen if we welcome God’s grace, his merciful charity, as fully as possible into our hearts, so that our will and even our emotions are drawn to love both God and neighbour. In this way, the mercy that wells up – as it were – from the heart of the Trinity can shape our lives and bring forth compassion and works of mercy for the benefit of our brothers and sisters in need. 2. “This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him” (Ps 34:6). The Church has always understood the importance of this cry. We possess an outstanding testimony to this in the very first pages of the Acts of the Apostles, where Peter asks that seven men, “full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (6:3), be chosen for the ministry of caring for the poor. This is certainly one of the first signs of the entrance of the Christian community upon the world’s stage: the service of the poor. The earliest community realized that being a disciple of Jesus meant demonstrating fraternity and solidarity, in obedience to the Master’s proclamation that the poor are blessed and heirs to the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3). “They sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as any had need” (Acts 2:45). In these words, we see clearly expressed the lively concern of the first Christians. The evangelist Luke, who more than any other speaks of mercy, does not exaggerate when he describes the practice of sharing in the early community. On the contrary, his words are addressed to believers in every generation, and thus also to us, in order to sustain our own witness and to encourage our care for those most in need. The same message is conveyed with similar conviction by the Apostle James. In his Letter, he spares no words: “Listen, my beloved brethren. Has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonoured the poor man. Is it not the rich who oppress you, and drag you into court? … What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and in lack of daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled”, without giving them the things needed for the body; what does it profit? So faith by itself, if it has not works, is dead’ (2:5-6.14-17). 3. Yet there have been times when Christians have not fully heeded this appeal, and have assumed a worldly way of thinking. Yet the Holy Spirit has not failed to call them to keep their gaze fixed on what is essential. He has raised up men and women who, in a variety of ways, have devoted their lives to the service of the poor. Over these two thousand years, how many pages of history have been written by Christians who, in utter simplicity and humility, and with generous and creative charity, have served their poorest brothers and sisters! The most outstanding example is that of Francis of Assisi, followed by many other holy men and women over the centuries. He was not satisfied to embrace lepers and give them alms, but chose to go to Gubbio to stay with them. He saw this meeting as the turning point of his conversion: “When I was in my sins, it seemed a thing too bitter to look on lepers, and the Lord himself led me among them and I showed them mercy. And when I left them, what had seemed bitter to me was changed into sweetness of mind and body” (Text 1-3: FF 110). This testimony shows the transformative power of charity and the Christian way of life. We may think of the poor simply as the beneficiaries of our occasional volunteer work, or of impromptu acts of generosity that appease our conscience. However good and useful such acts may be for making us sensitive to people’s needs and the injustices that are often their cause, they ought to lead to a true encounter with the poor and a sharing that becomes a way of life. Our prayer and our journey of discipleship and conversion find the confirmation of their evangelic authenticity in precisely such charity and sharing. This way of life gives rise to joy and peace of soul, because we touch with our own hands the flesh of Christ. If we truly wish to encounter Christ, we have to touch his body in the suffering bodies of the poor, as a response to the sacramental communion bestowed in the Eucharist. The Body of Christ, broken in the sacred liturgy, can be seen, through charity and sharing, in the faces and persons of the most vulnerable of our brothers and sisters. Saint John Chrysostom’s admonition remains ever timely: “If you want to honour the body of Christ, do not scorn it when it is naked; do not honour the Eucharistic Christ with silk vestments, and then, leaving the church, neglect the other Christ suffering from cold and nakedness” (Hom. in Matthaeum, 50.3: PG 58). We are called, then, to draw near to the poor, to encounter them, to meet their gaze, to embrace them and to let them feel the warmth of love that breaks through their solitude. Their outstretched hand is also an invitation to step out of our certainties and comforts, and to acknowledge the value of poverty in itself. 4. Let us never forget that, for Christ’s disciples, poverty is above all a call to follow Jesus in his own poverty. It means walking behind him and beside him, a journey that leads to the beatitude of the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3; Lk 6:20). Poverty means having a humble heart that accepts our creaturely limitations and sinfulness and thus enables us to overcome the temptation to feel omnipotent and immortal. Poverty is an interior attitude that avoids looking upon money, career and luxury as our goal in life and the condition for our happiness. Poverty instead creates the conditions for freely shouldering our personal and social responsibilities, despite our limitations, with trust in God’s closeness and the support of his grace. Poverty, understood in this way, is the yardstick that allows us to judge how best to use material goods and to build relationships that are neither selfish nor possessive (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, Nos. 25-45). Let us, then, take as our example Saint Francis and his witness of authentic poverty. Precisely because he kept his gaze fixed on Christ, Francis was able to see and serve him in the poor. If we want to help change history and promote real development, we need to hear the cry of the poor and commit ourselves to ending their marginalization. At the same time, I ask the poor in our cities and our communities not to lose the sense of evangelical poverty that is part of their daily life. 5. We know how hard it is for our contemporary world to see poverty clearly for what it is. Yet in myriad ways poverty challenges us daily, in faces marked by suffering, marginalization, oppression, violence, torture and imprisonment, war, deprivation of freedom and dignity, ignorance and illiteracy, medical emergencies and shortage of work, trafficking and slavery, exile, extreme poverty and forced migration. Poverty has the face of women, men and children exploited by base interests, crushed by the machinations of power and money. What a bitter and endless list we would have to compile were we to add the poverty born of social injustice, moral degeneration, the greed of a chosen few, and generalized indifference! Tragically, in our own time, even as ostentatious wealth accumulates in the hands of the privileged few, often in connection with illegal activities and the appalling exploitation of human dignity, there is a scandalous growth of poverty in broad sectors of society throughout our world. Faced with this scenario, we cannot remain passive, much less resigned. There is a poverty that stifles the spirit of initiative of so many young people by keeping them from finding work. There is a poverty that dulls the sense of personal responsibility and leaves others to do the work while we go looking for favours. There is a poverty that poisons the wells of participation and allows little room for professionalism; in this way it demeans the merit of those who do work and are productive. To all these forms of poverty we must respond with a new vision of life and society. All the poor – as Blessed Paul VI loved to say – belong to the Church by “evangelical right” (Address at the Opening of the Second Session of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, 29 September 1963), and require of us a fundamental option on their behalf. Blessed, therefore, are the open hands that embrace the poor and help them: they are hands that bring hope. Blessed are the hands that reach beyond every barrier of culture, religion and nationality, and pour the balm of consolation over the wounds of humanity. Blessed are the open hands that ask nothing in exchange, with no “ifs” or “buts” or “maybes”: they are hands that call down God’s blessing upon their brothers and sisters. 6. At the conclusion of the Jubilee of Mercy, I wanted to offer the Church a World Day of the Poor, so that throughout the world Christian communities can become an ever greater sign of Christ’s charity for the least and those most in need. To the World Days instituted by my Predecessors, which are already a tradition in the life of our communities, I wish to add this one, which adds to them an exquisitely evangelical fullness, that is, Jesus’ preferential love for the poor. I invite the whole Church, and men and women of good will everywhere, to turn their gaze on this day to all those who stretch out their hands and plead for our help and solidarity. They are our brothers and sisters, created and loved by the one Heavenly Father. This Day is meant, above all, to encourage believers to react against a culture of discard and waste, and to embrace the culture of encounter. At the same time, everyone, independent of religious affiliation, is invited to openness and sharing with the poor through concrete signs of solidarity and fraternity. God created the heavens and the earth for all; yet sadly some have erected barriers, walls and fences, betraying the original gift meant for all humanity, with none excluded. 7. It is my wish that, in the week preceding the World Day of the Poor, which falls this year on 19 November, the Thirty-third Sunday of Ordinary Time, Christian communities will make every effort to create moments of encounter and friendship, solidarity and concrete assistance. They can invite the poor and volunteers to take part together in the Eucharist on this Sunday, in such a way that there be an even more authentic celebration of the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Universal King, on the following Sunday. The kingship of Christ is most evident on Golgotha, when the Innocent One, nailed to the cross, poor, naked and stripped of everything, incarnates and reveals the fullness of God’s love. Jesus’ complete abandonment to the Father expresses his utter poverty and reveals the power of the Love that awakens him to new life on the day of the Resurrection. This Sunday, if there are poor people where we live who seek protection and assistance, let us draw close to them: it will be a favourable moment to encounter the God we seek. Following the teaching of Scripture (cf. Gen 18:3-5; Heb 13:2), let us welcome them as honoured guests at our table; they can be teachers who help us live the faith more consistently. With their trust and readiness to receive help, they show us in a quiet and often joyful way, how essential it is to live simply and to abandon ourselves to God’s providence. 8. At the heart of all the many concrete initiatives carried out on this day should always be prayer. Let us not forget that the Our Father is the prayer of the poor. Our asking for bread expresses our entrustment to God for our basic needs in life. Everything that Jesus taught us in this prayer expresses and brings together the cry of all who suffer from life’s uncertainties and the lack of what they need. When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he answered in the words with which the poor speak to our one Father, in whom all acknowledge themselves as brothers and sisters. The Our Father is a prayer said in the plural: the bread for which we ask is “ours”, and that entails sharing, participation and joint responsibility. In this prayer, all of us recognize our need to overcome every form of selfishness, in order to enter into the joy of mutual acceptance. 9. I ask my brother Bishops, and all priests and deacons who by their vocation have the mission of supporting the poor, together with all consecrated persons and all associations, movements and volunteers everywhere, to help make this World Day of the Poor a tradition that concretely contributes to evangelization in today’s world. This new World Day, therefore, should become a powerful appeal to our consciences as believers, allowing us to grow in the conviction that sharing with the poor enables us to understand the deepest truth of the Gospel. The poor are not a problem: they are a resource from which to draw as we strive to accept and practice in our lives the essence of the Gospel. From the Vatican, 13 June 2017 Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua FRANCIS [Original text: Italian] [Vatican-provided text] © Libreria Editrice Vaticana

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joannrochaus · 6 years

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Man pushes woman home after her wheelchair breaks; video goes viral

Bilal Quintyne of Smyrna, Georgia, was headed out for a morning jog with a friend. He came upon a woman in an electric wheelchair stranded on the side of the road. Her chair’s engine had died, leaving one wheel on the busy street and the other on the sidewalk.

Quintyne took off his shirt in deference to the heat and pushed the woman for thirty minutes until they arrived at her home. His friend shot a video of the incident. As of this morning, it has been viewed more than three million times.

Why does this story resonate with so many people? I think its hero explained it best: “There’s so much hatred in the world and it costs nothing to love someone.”

How Muslims earn joy

The Muslim observance of Ramadan began this year on May 16. Since that time, observant Muslims around the world have abstained from eating, drinking, and sexual relations from sunup to sundown.

Ramadan ended yesterday with the celebration of Eid al-Fitr (“feast of breaking the fast”) that began at sundown and continues until this evening. Different countries and sects observe the holiday in different ways. Most include family and social gatherings, traditional sweet dishes, feasting, wearing new clothes, shopping, and gift-giving.

As a result, today is one of the most celebratory days of the Islamic year. But there’s more to the story.

I could find the word joy only five times in the Qur’an. The first citation states, “Those who believe and do right: joy is for them, and bliss (their) journey’s end” (13:29). Abdullah Yusuf Ali’s commentary on this verse explains that this joy “reflects itself in the life of the good man, through good and ill fortune, through good report and evil.”

Such joy is Allah’s future reward for present obedience: “No soul knoweth what is kept hid for them of joy, as a reward for what they used to do” (32:17). It comes only to the “righteous” (76:5), for whom “Allah hath warded off from them the evil of that day, and hath made them find brightness and joy” (76:11). At the end of time, the righteous person who meets God “will return unto his folk in joy” (84:9).

It is clear in the Qur’an that joy is a product of righteousness and must be earned through obedience to Islamic law. The celebration taking place among Muslims today will be over tonight. Tomorrow, 1.8 billion Muslims will return to their system of five-times-a-day prayers, pilgrimage to Mecca, giving to the poor, recitation of their creed, and fasting during Ramadan when it returns on May 5 of next year.

None of this law-keeping assures a Muslim of his or her place in heaven. Muhammad was not even certain that he would go to heaven (Qur’an 46:9). That’s why Muslims add to his name the phrase “Peace be upon him,” asking Allah to be merciful to him in the afterlife.

How Christians receive joy

My purpose today is not to be pejorative toward Islam. Rather, it is to note that Christians can easily approach joy as Muslims do: as God’s reward for our good works.

The fact is, Scripture teaches just the opposite.

The word joy appears in the Bible 218 times (New International Version). According to the definitive Anchor Bible Dictionary, “The experience of deliverance and the anticipation of salvation provide the most significant occasions for rejoicing among the people of God in the Old Testament. The coming of the Messiah, who delivers his people and brings salvation becomes the basis for rejoicing in the New Testament.”

For example, the prophet predicted, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3). He was right: after Philip proclaimed the gospel in Samaria, “there was much joy in that city” (Acts 8:8).

As a result of David’s deliverance from his enemies, he could pray, “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound” (Psalm 4:7). Because of the “salvation” God offers us (1 Chronicles 16:23), “strength and joy fill his palace” (v. 27 ISV). Even while facing persecution, those saved by Jesus “were filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 13:52).

In Islam, Allah rewards the obedient with joy. In Christianity, God delivers us from our disobedience and joy is the result.

Unfortunately, all too often we try to earn what God can only give.

“Heaven begins below”

I became a Christian as a teenager because I was attracted to the joy I saw in Christians.

The fact that Bilal Quintyne’s video went viral demonstrates that we are looking for love and grace in a loveless, graceless world. The joy of Jesus can be your most powerful witness to the Muslims you know and to your larger culture as well.

Because joy is a “fruit of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22), you and I can pray right now for the Spirit to control us (Ephesians 5:18) and produce his joy in our lives and witness. We can ask God to give us his joy in every circumstance and challenge we face today.

If our Father is not manifesting his joy in us, the fault is not his.

In honor of Flag Day yesterday, I tweeted this statement by Ronald Reagan: “I recognize we must be cautious in claiming that God is on our side, but I think it’s all right to keep asking if we’re on His side.” Have you asked that question today?

Isaac Watts:

And when we taste thy love, Our joys divinely grow Unspeakable, like those above, And heaven begins below.

The post Man pushes woman home after her wheelchair breaks; video goes viral appeared first on Denison Forum.

source https://www.denisonforum.org/columns/daily-article/man-pushes-woman-home-wheelchair-breaks-video-goes-viral/ source https://denisonforum.tumblr.com/post/174912674097

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 4 years

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The Wonders of Calvary

a Prayer by Charles Spurgeon

But a little longer waiting and we shall come to the golden shore. But a little longer fighting and we shall receive the crown of life that fadeth not away.

Do not let us always be hampered like poor half-hatched birds within the egg. May we chip the shell today and get out into the glorious liberty of the children of God. Grant us this, we pray Thee.

#The Wonders of Calvary #Charles Spurgeon #prayer

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mystic-heuristic-blog · 7 years

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Jubilate Agno

Jubilate Agno is a religious poem written by Christopher Smart between 1759 and 1763, while hospitalized in London for lunacy (a very 12th house experience). Christopher Smart was born with Jupiter in Sagittarius. Note all the animals in the excerpt below.

(cover art from the Jubilate Agno reprint from Factory Hollow Press)

Let Elizur rejoice with the Partridge, who is a prisoner of state and is proud of his keepers. For I am not without authority in my jeopardy, which I derive inevitably from the glory of the name of the Lord. Let Shedeur rejoice with Pyrausta, who dwelleth in a medium of fire, which God hath adapted for him. For I bless God whose name is Jealous—and there is a zeal to deliver us from everlasting burnings. Let Shelumiel rejoice with Olor, who is of a goodly savour, and the very look of him harmonizes the mind. For my existimation is good even amongst the slanderers and my memory shall arise for a sweet savour unto the Lord. Let Jael rejoice with the Plover, who whistles for his live, and foils the marksmen and their guns. For I bless the prince of peace and pray that all the guns may be nail’d up, save such [as] are for the rejoicing days. Let Raguel rejoice with the Cock of Portugal—God send good Angels to the allies of England! For I have abstained from the blood of the grape and that even at the Lord’s table. Let Hobab rejoice with Necydalus, who is the Greek of a Grub. For I have glorified God in greek and latin, the consecrated languages spoken by the Lord on earth. Let Zurishaddai with the Polish Cock rejoice—The Lord restore peace to Europe. For I meditate the peace of Europe amongst family bickerings and domestic jars. Let Zuar rejoice with the Guinea Hen—The Lord add to his mercies in the west! For the host is in the west—the Lord make us thankful unto salvation. Let Chesed rejoice with Strepsiceros, whose weapons are the ornaments of his peace. For I preach the very gospel of christ without comment and with this weapon shall I slay envy. Let Hagar rejoice with Gnesion, who is the right sort of eagle, and towers the highest. For I bless God in the rising generation, which is on my side. Let Libni rejoice with the Redshank, who migrates not but is translated to the upper regions. For I have translated in the charity, which makes things better and I shall be translated myself at the last. Let Nahshon rejoice with the Seabreese, the Lord give the sailors of his Spirit. For he that walked upon the sea, hath prepared the floods with the Gospel of peace. Let Helon rejoice with the Woodpecker—the Lord encourage the propagation of trees! For the merciful man is merciful to his beast, and to the trees that give them shelter. Let Amos rejoice with the Coote—prepare to meet thy God, O Israel. For he hath turned the shadow of death into the morning, the Lord is his name. Let Ephah rejoice with Buprestis, the Lord endue us with temperance and humanity, till every cow can have her mate! For I am come home again, but there is nobody to kill the calf or to pay the musick. Let Sarah rejoice with the Redwing, whose harvest is in the frost and snow. For the hour of my felicity, like the womb of Sarah, shall come at the latter end. Let Rebekah rejoice with Iynx, who holds his head on one side to deceive the adversary. For I shou’d have avail’d myself of waggery, had not malice been multitudinous. Let Shuah rejoice with Boa, which is the vocal serpent. For there are still serpents that can speak—God bless my head, my heart and my heel. Let Ehud rejoice with Onocrotalus, whose braying is for the glory of God, because he makes the best musick in his power. For I bless God that I am of the same seed as Ehud, Mutius Scœ vola, and Colonel Draper. Let Shamgar rejoice with Otis, who looks about him for the glory of God, and sees the horizon compleat at once. For the word of God is a sword on my side—no matter what other weapon a stick or a straw. Let Bohan rejoice with the Scythian Stag—he is beef and breeches against want and nakedness. For I have adventured myself in the name of the Lord, and he hath mark’d me for his own. Let Achsah rejoice with the Pigeon who is an antidote to malignity and will carry a letter. For I bless God for the Postmaster general and all conveyancers of letters under his care, especially Allen and Shelvock. Let Tohu rejoice with the Grouse—the Lord further the cultivating of heaths and the peopling of deserts. For my grounds in New Canaan shall infinitely compensate for the flats and maynes of Staindrop Moor. Let Hillel rejoice with Ammodytes, whose colour is deceitful and he plots against the pilgrim’s feet. For the praise of God can give to a mute fish the notes of a nightingale. Let Eli rejoice with Leucon—he is an honest fellow, which is a rarity. For I have seen the White Raven and Thomas Hall of Willingham and am myself a greater curiosity than both. Let Jemuel rejoice with Charadrius, who is from the height and the sight of him is good for the jaundice. For I look up to heaven which is my prospect to escape envy by surmounting it. Let Pharaoh rejoice with Anataria, whom God permits to prey upon the ducks to check their increase. For if Pharaoh had known Joseph, he would have blessed God and me for the illumination of the people. Let Lotan rejoice with Sauterelle. Blessed be the name of the Lord from the Lote-tree to the Palm. For I pray God to bless improvements in gardening until London be a city of palm-trees. Let Dishon rejoice with the Landrail, God give his grace to the society for preserving the game. For I pray to give his grace to the poor of England, that Charity be not offended and that benevolence may increase. Let Hushim rejoice with the King’s Fisher, who is of royal beauty, tho’ plebeian size. For in my nature I quested for beauty, but God, God hath sent me to sea for pearls. Let Machir rejoice with Convolvulus, from him to the ring of Saturn, which is the girth of Job; to the signet of God from Job and his daughters blessed be jesus. For there is a blessing from the stone of jesus which is founded upon hell to the precious jewell on the right hand of God. Let Atad bless with Eleos, the nightly Memorialist ελεησον κϮ..ριε. For the nightly Visitor is at the window of the impenitent, while I sing a psalm of my own composing. Let Jamim rejoice with the Bittern blessed be the name of Jesus for Denver Sluice, Ruston, and the draining of the fens. For there is a note added to the scale, which the Lord hath made fuller, stronger and more glorious. Let Ohad rejoice with Byturos who eateth the vine and is a minister of temperance. For I offer my goat as he browses the vine, bless the Lord from chambering and drunkeness. Let Zohar rejoice with Cychramus who cometh with the quails on a particular affair. For there is a traveling for the glory of God without going to Italy or France. Let Serah, the daughter of Asher, rejoice with Ceyx, who maketh his cabin in the Halcyon’s hold. For I bless the children of Asher for the evil I did them and the good I might have received at their hands. Let Magdiel rejoice with Ascarides, which is the life of the bowels—the worm hath a part in our frame. For I rejoice like a worm in the rain in him that cherishes and from him that tramples. Let Becher rejoice with Oscen who terrifies the wicked, as trumpet and alarm the coward. For I am ready for the trumpet and alarm to fight, to die and to rise again. Let Shaul rejoice with Circos, who hath clumsy legs, but he can wheel it the better with his wings. For the banish’d of the Lord shall come about again, for so he hath prepared for them. Let Hamul rejoice with the Crystal, who is pure and translucent. For sincerity is a jewel which is pure and transparent, eternal and inestimable. Let Ziphion rejoice with the Tit-Lark who is a groundling, but he raises the spirits. For my hands and my feet are perfect as the sublimity of Naphtali and the felicity of Asher. Let Mibzar rejoice with the Cadess, as is their number, so are their names, blessed be the Lord Jesus for them all. For the names and number of animals are as the names and number of the stars. Let Jubal rejoice with Cœcilia, the woman and the slow-worm praise the name of the Lord. For I pray the Lord Jesus to translate my magnificat into verse and represent it. Let Arodi rejoice with the Royston Crow, there is a society of them at Trumpington and Cambridge. For I bless the Lord Jesus from the bottom of Royston Cave to the top of King’s Chapel. Let Areli rejoice with the Criel, who is a dwarf that towereth above others. For I am a little fellow, which is intitled to the great mess by the benevolence of God my father. Let Phuvah rejoice with Platycerotes, whose weapons of defence keep them innocent. For I this day made over my inheritance to my mother in consideration of her infirmities. Let Shimron rejoice with the Kite, who is of more value than many sparrows. For I this day made over my inheritance to my mother in consideration of her age. Let Sered rejoice with the Wittal—a silly bird is wise unto his own preservation. For I this day made over my inheritance to my mother in consideration of her poverty. Let Elon rejoice with Attelabus, who is the Locust without wings. For I bless the thirteenth of August, in which I had the grace to obey the voice of Christ in my conscience. Let Jahleel rejoice with the Woodcock, who liveth upon suction and is pure from his diet. For I bless the thirteenth of August, in which I was willing to run all hazards for the sake of the name of the Lord. Let Shuni rejoice with the Gull, who is happy in not being good for food. For I bless the thirteenth of August, in which I was willing to be called a fool for the sake of Christ. Let Ezbon rejoice with Musimon, who is from the ram and she-goat. For I lent my flocks and my herds and my lands at once unto the Lord. Let Barkos rejoice with the Black Eagle, which is the least of his species and the best-natured. For nature is more various than observation tho’ observers be innumerable. Let Bedan rejoice with Ossifrage—the bird of prey and the man of prayer. For Agricola is Γηωοργος. Let Naomi rejoice with Pseudosphece who is between a wasp and a hornet. For I pray God to bless polly in the blessing of Naomi and assign her to the house of david. Let Ruth rejoice with the Tumbler—it is a pleasant thing to feed him and be thankful. For I am in charity with the French who are my foes and Moabites because of the Moabitish woman. Let Ram rejoice with the Fieldfare, who is a good gift from God in the season of scarcity. For my Angel is always ready at a pinch to help me out and to keep me up. Let Manoah rejoice with Cerastes, who is a Dragon with horns. For christopher must slay the Dragon with a pheon’s head. Let Talmai rejoice with Alcedo, who makes a cradle for its young, which is rock’d by the winds. For they have seperated me and my bosom, whereas the right comes by setting us together. Let Bukki rejoice with the Buzzard, who is clever, with the reputation of a silly fellow. For Silly fellow! Silly fellow! is against me and belongeth neither to me nor my family. Let Michal rejoice with Leucocruta who is a mixture of beauty and magnanimity. For he that scorneth the scorner hath condescended to my low estate. Let Abiah rejoice with Morphnus who is a bird of passage to the Heavens. For Abiah is the father of Joab and Joab of all Romans and English Men. Let Hur rejoice with the Water-wag-tail, who is a neighbour, and loves to be looked at. For they pass me by in their tour, and the good Samaritan is not yet come. Let Dodo rejoice with the purple Worm, who is cloathed sumptuously, tho he fares meanly. For I bless God in behalf of trinity college in cambridge and the society of purples in london. Let Ahio rejoice with the Merlin who is a cousin german of the hawk. For I have a nephew christopher to whom I implore the grace of God. Let Joram rejoice with the Water Rail, who takes his delight in the river. For I pray God bless the cam—Mmr higgs and mr and mrs washbourne as the drops of the dew. Let Chileab rejoice with Ophion who is clean made, less than an hart, and a Sardinian. For I pray God bless the king of Sardinia and make him an instrument of his peace. Let Shephatiah rejoice with the little Owl, which is the wingged Cat. For I am possessed of a cat, surpassing in beauty, from whom I take occasion to bless Almighty God. Let Ithream rejoice with the great Owl, who understandeth that which he professes. For I pray God for the professors of the University of Cambridge to attend and to amend. Let Abigail rejoice with Lethophagus—God be gracious to the widows indeed. For the Fatherless Children and widows are never deserted of the Lord.

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catholicwatertown · 7 years

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First World Day of the Poor message released

(Vatican Radio) The Vatican on Tuesday released Pope Francis' message for the First World Day of the Poor which will be observed later this year on the 19th of November.

Please find the English translation of the message below:

Message of His Holiness Pope Francis

for the First World Day of the Poor

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

19 November 2017

Let us love, not with words but with deeds

1. “Little children, let us not love in word or speech, but in deed and in truth” (1 Jn 3:18). These words of the Apostle John voice an imperative that no Christian may disregard. The seriousness with which the “beloved disciple” hands down Jesus’ command to our own day is made even clearer by the contrast between the empty words so frequently on our lips and the concrete deeds against which we are called to measure ourselves. Love has no alibi. Whenever we set out to love as Jesus loved, we have to take the Lord as our example; especially when it comes to loving the poor. The Son of God’s way of loving is well-known, and John spells it out clearly. It stands on two pillars: God loved us first (cf. 1 Jn 4:10.19), and he loved us by giving completely of himself, even to laying down his life (cf. 1 Jn 3:16).

Such love cannot go unanswered. Even though offered unconditionally, asking nothing in return, it so sets hearts on fire that all who experience it are led to love back, despite their limitations and sins. Yet this can only happen if we welcome God’s grace, his merciful charity, as fully as possible into our hearts, so that our will and even our emotions are drawn to love both God and neighbour. In this way, the mercy that wells up – as it were – from the heart of the Trinity can shape our lives and bring forth compassion and works of mercy for the benefit of our brothers and sisters in need.

2. “This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him” (Ps 34:6). The Church has always understood the importance of this cry. We possess an outstanding testimony to this in the very first pages of the Acts of the Apostles, where Peter asks that seven men, “full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (6:3), be chosen for the ministry of caring for the poor. This is certainly one of the first signs of the entrance of the Christian community upon the world’s stage: the service of the poor. The earliest community realized that being a disciple of Jesus meant demonstrating fraternity and solidarity, in obedience to the Master’s proclamation that the poor are blessed and heirs to the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3).

“They sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as any had need” (Acts 2:45). In these words, we see clearly expressed the lively concern of the first Christians. The evangelist Luke, who more than any other speaks of mercy, does not exaggerate when he describes the practice of sharing in the early community. On the contrary, his words are addressed to believers in every generation, and thus also to us, in order to sustain our own witness and to encourage our care for those most in need. The same message is conveyed with similar conviction by the Apostle James. In his Letter, he spares no words: “Listen, my beloved brethren. Has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonoured the poor man. Is it not the rich who oppress you, and drag you into court? ... What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and in lack of daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled”, without giving them the things needed for the body; what does it profit? So faith by itself, if it has not works, is dead’ (2:5-6.14-17).

3. Yet there have been times when Christians have not fully heeded this appeal, and have assumed a worldly way of thinking. Yet the Holy Spirit has not failed to call them to keep their gaze fixed on what is essential. He has raised up men and women who, in a variety of ways, have devoted their lives to the service of the poor. Over these two thousand years, how many pages of history have been written by Christians who, in utter simplicity and humility, and with generous and creative charity, have served their poorest brothers and sisters!

The most outstanding example is that of Francis of Assisi, followed by many other holy men and women over the centuries. He was not satisfied to embrace lepers and give them alms, but chose to go to Gubbio to stay with them. He saw this meeting as the turning point of his conversion: “When I was in my sins, it seemed a thing too bitter to look on lepers, and the Lord himself led me among them and I showed them mercy. And when I left them, what had seemed bitter to me was changed into sweetness of mind and body” (Text 1-3: FF 110). This testimony shows the transformative power of charity and the Christian way of life.

We may think of the poor simply as the beneficiaries of our occasional volunteer work, or of impromptu acts of generosity that appease our conscience. However good and useful such acts may be for making us sensitive to people’s needs and the injustices that are often their cause, they ought to lead to a true encounter with the poor and a sharing that becomes a way of life. Our prayer and our journey of discipleship and conversion find the confirmation of their evangelic authenticity in precisely such charity and sharing. This way of life gives rise to joy and peace of soul, because we touch with our own hands the flesh of Christ. If we truly wish to encounter Christ, we have to touch his body in the suffering bodies of the poor, as a response to the sacramental communion bestowed in the Eucharist. The Body of Christ, broken in the sacred liturgy, can be seen, through charity and sharing, in the faces and persons of the most vulnerable of our brothers and sisters. Saint John Chrysostom’s admonition remains ever timely: “If you want to honour the body of Christ, do not scorn it when it is naked; do not honour the Eucharistic Christ with silk vestments, and then, leaving the church, neglect the other Christ suffering from cold and nakedness” (Hom. in Matthaeum, 50.3: PG 58).

We are called, then, to draw near to the poor, to encounter them, to meet their gaze, to embrace them and to let them feel the warmth of love that breaks through their solitude. Their outstretched hand is also an invitation to step out of our certainties and comforts, and to acknowledge the value of poverty in itself.

4. Let us never forget that, for Christ’s disciples, poverty is above all a call to follow Jesus in his own poverty. It means walking behind him and beside him, a journey that leads to the beatitude of the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3; Lk 6:20). Poverty means having a humble heart that accepts our creaturely limitations and sinfulness and thus enables us to overcome the temptation to feel omnipotent and immortal. Poverty is an interior attitude that avoids looking upon money, career and luxury as our goal in life and the condition for our happiness. Poverty instead creates the conditions for freely shouldering our personal and social responsibilities, despite our limitations, with trust in God’s closeness and the support of his grace. Poverty, understood in this way, is the yardstick that allows us to judge how best to use material goods and to build relationships that are neither selfish nor possessive (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, Nos. 25-45).

Let us, then, take as our example Saint Francis and his witness of authentic poverty. Precisely because he kept his gaze fixed on Christ, Francis was able to see and serve him in the poor. If we want to help change history and promote real development, we need to hear the cry of the poor and commit ourselves to ending their marginalization. At the same time, I ask the poor in our cities and our communities not to lose the sense of evangelical poverty that is part of their daily life.

5. We know how hard it is for our contemporary world to see poverty clearly for what it is. Yet in myriad ways poverty challenges us daily, in faces marked by suffering, marginalization, oppression, violence, torture and imprisonment, war, deprivation of freedom and dignity, ignorance and illiteracy, medical emergencies and shortage of work, trafficking and slavery, exile, extreme poverty and forced migration. Poverty has the face of women, men and children exploited by base interests, crushed by the machinations of power and money. What a bitter and endless list we would have to compile were we to add the poverty born of social injustice, moral degeneration, the greed of a chosen few, and generalized indifference!

Tragically, in our own time, even as ostentatious wealth accumulates in the hands of the privileged few, often in connection with illegal activities and the appalling exploitation of human dignity, there is a scandalous growth of poverty in broad sectors of society throughout our world. Faced with this scenario, we cannot remain passive, much less resigned. There is a poverty that stifles the spirit of initiative of so many young people by keeping them from finding work. There is a poverty that dulls the sense of personal responsibility and leaves others to do the work while we go looking for favours. There is a poverty that poisons the wells of participation and allows little room for professionalism; in this way it demeans the merit of those who do work and are productive. To all these forms of poverty we must respond with a new vision of life and society.

All the poor – as Blessed Paul VI loved to say – belong to the Church by “evangelical right” (Address at the Opening of the Second Session of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, 29 September 1963), and require of us a fundamental option on their behalf. Blessed, therefore, are the open hands that embrace the poor and help them: they are hands that bring hope. Blessed are the hands that reach beyond every barrier of culture, religion and nationality, and pour the balm of consolation over the wounds of humanity. Blessed are the open hands that ask nothing in exchange, with no “ifs” or “buts” or “maybes”: they are hands that call down God’s blessing upon their brothers and sisters.

6. At the conclusion of the Jubilee of Mercy, I wanted to offer the Church a World Day of the Poor, so that throughout the world Christian communities can become an ever greater sign of Christ’s charity for the least and those most in need. To the World Days instituted by my Predecessors, which are already a tradition in the life of our communities, I wish to add this one, which adds to them an exquisitely evangelical fullness, that is, Jesus’ preferential love for the poor.

I invite the whole Church, and men and women of good will everywhere, to turn their gaze on this day to all those who stretch out their hands and plead for our help and solidarity. They are our brothers and sisters, created and loved by the one Heavenly Father. This Day is meant, above all, to encourage believers to react against a culture of discard and waste, and to embrace the culture of encounter. At the same time, everyone, independent of religious affiliation, is invited to openness and sharing with the poor through concrete signs of solidarity and fraternity. God created the heavens and the earth for all; yet sadly some have erected barriers, walls and fences, betraying the original gift meant for all humanity, with none excluded.

7. It is my wish that, in the week preceding the World Day of the Poor, which falls this year on 19 November, the Thirty-third Sunday of Ordinary Time, Christian communities will make every effort to create moments of encounter and friendship, solidarity and concrete assistance. They can invite the poor and volunteers to take part together in the Eucharist on this Sunday, in such a way that there be an even more authentic celebration of the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Universal King, on the following Sunday. The kingship of Christ is most evident on Golgotha, when the Innocent One, nailed to the cross, poor, naked and stripped of everything, incarnates and reveals the fullness of God’s love. Jesus’ complete abandonment to the Father expresses his utter poverty and reveals the power of the Love that awakens him to new life on the day of the Resurrection.

This Sunday, if there are poor people where we live who seek protection and assistance, let us draw close to them: it will be a favourable moment to encounter the God we seek. Following the teaching of Scripture (cf. Gen 18:3-5; Heb 13:2), let us welcome them as honoured guests at our table; they can be teachers who help us live the faith more consistently. With their trust and readiness to receive help, they show us in a quiet and often joyful way, how essential it is to live simply and to abandon ourselves to God’s providence.

8. At the heart of all the many concrete initiatives carried out on this day should always be prayer. Let us not forget that the Our Father is the prayer of the poor. Our asking for bread expresses our entrustment to God for our basic needs in life. Everything that Jesus taught us in this prayer expresses and brings together the cry of all who suffer from life’s uncertainties and the lack of what they need. When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he answered in the words with which the poor speak to our one Father, in whom all acknowledge themselves as brothers and sisters. The Our Father is a prayer said in the plural: the bread for which we ask is “ours”, and that entails sharing, participation and joint responsibility. In this prayer, all of us recognize our need to overcome every form of selfishness, in order to enter into the joy of mutual acceptance.

9. I ask my brother Bishops, and all priests and deacons who by their vocation have the mission of supporting the poor, together with all consecrated persons and all associations, movements and volunteers everywhere, to help make this World Day of the Poor a tradition that concretely contributes to evangelization in today’s world.

This new World Day, therefore, should become a powerful appeal to our consciences as believers, allowing us to grow in the conviction that sharing with the poor enables us to understand the deepest truth of the Gospel. The poor are not a problem: they are a resource from which to draw as we strive to accept and practise in our lives the essence of the Gospel.

From the Vatican, 13 June 2017

Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua

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