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noteguk · 4 years

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be quiet | jjk | m | drabble

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which jungkook is the best at picking the worst possible place for a quickie.

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, public sex (library), doing the nasty in the theology section, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mid-sex arguments, jk is a mean lil shit (nothing new), kind of dom!jk, creampie, oral (female receiving), cum eating, cum play

— words; 3.1k

— author’s note; this was requested by anon and I thought it would be a nice thing to drop before the angsty parts begin 😌 also, for time context, this happens a bit after “bad behavior”

You were pretty sure that Jungkook had chosen that section on purpose. Because he hated you, that’s why.

Never once in your life had you wondered so far into the university’s library, past the known biology and chemistry shelves, and into the dusty alleyways of the humanities courses. And that was the shameful reason why you didn’t even know that there was a religious section in the first place.

The realization was obvious if you actually stopped to think about it: there were so many classes related to theology in your university that it would be ridiculous not to have books on that. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel like the old, hardcover bible was staring at you in endless disappointment as Jungkook turned you around and threw the hem of your dress over your hips.

“Shhhh, baby, keep it quiet,” he shushed you after a small whimper had escaped your lips, his palms spreading over your ass cheeks. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”

Because Jungkook hated you (as previously established), he instantly contradicted himself with a loud slap against your ass.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hissed, fumbling closer to him as he tugged your underwear to the side. The cold air hit your wet folds instantly, spreading goosebumps through your skin. Jungkook was an expert at noticing the most timid, basic ways that your body reacted to his touches, so the clear asymmetry between your rough speech and the shivers running through your body was enough to make him snicker. “Keep it down. This isn’t funny.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, the sharp noise of his zipper opening sounding like a gunshot inside that quiet building. “No. It’s hilarious, actually.”

You sighed, praying to all the books around you that no one would stumble across that erotic spectacle. You had no idea if there was another living soul wandering around the library so late — in fact, the place was like thirty minutes away from closing and you were positive that the librarian was already dozing off on the front counter when you arrived, so she was probably balls deep in REM sleep by that point. There was no one cramming for midterms, no night owls to interrupt the two of you and, just to top it all off, it was a fucking Friday. The library was so empty that you didn’t even know why you went to that place.

Okay, that was a lie. You went there because Jungkook had booty called you — yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, shame and disgrace — but, in your defense, you honestly thought he was just in desperate need for some extra help with his project (which was what he had initially told you). Turns out, “extra help” in Jungkook Dictionary didn’t mean the academic one. It meant that he was pathetically hard and he wanted somewhere to stick his dick in (instead of doing it like a normal person and using his hand).

Regardless, your position was equally embarrassing. You could’ve just walked away when you realized his true intentions, and not followed him into the theology section of the library, for fuck’s sake. You really needed to start exercising some self love and put some limits in that chaotic situationship before you got yourself in serious trouble.

Still, all those mental promises turned into silence when you felt his fingers playing with your folds, teasing their way between them. “So fucking wet,” Jungkook’s horniness dripped from his voice like honey, so soft and deep that got your knees buckling, back arching so he could reach your heat better. “Such a needy girl. Always begging for cock.”

“I didn’t beg for anything,” you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit; looking over your shoulder just so you could stare him down. Somewhere along your messy make-out session and the Bible-induced guilt, Jungkook had already moved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, his cock standing erect and proud. His timing was fantastic when he was actually interested in something. “You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants.”

He scoffed. “Don’t ruin the mood.” Jungkook punctuated his sentence with the plunging of two of his fingers inside your pussy, making a surprised whimper fall from your mouth — which you suppressed a second too late. “And of course I can’t, not when you’re dressed like this.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the pleasure that started to build up at the pumping of his fingers in and out of you. “My knee-level dress is neither sexy nor an open invitation, you troglodyte.” You had chosen to wear that dress because it was a deliciously warm afternoon, not because you wanted to get railed while staring at religious texts. Jungkook, however, seemed to stare at your choice of clothing like he was looking at an “all you can eat” bouffet. You groaned. “But if you’re gonna do it, can you rush? I don’t wanna get caught.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as his digits left your heat. You knew he’d tease you endlessly if you didn’t say that, and you two were on a tight schedule. “You never do,” he mumbled.

“Duh,” you said, watching as his hand curled around his cock, pumping it a few times. You placed your own hands on the shelves and refused to look at the books any longer. “I have a future, you know. Don’t wanna get expelled halfway through the—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted you, holding onto your hips. Jungkook aligned himself with your entrance, coating his crown with your wetness and grunting at the sensation. “Fuck. Don’t wanna talk about your stupid high marks right now.”

Jungkook made his point clear with a swift roll of his hips, his thick length gradually entering your pussy. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes as you marveled at the aphrodisiac sensation of his cock opening you up. “Shit,” you moaned — a whispered, breathy moan that wiped all your fierceness away. “You’re so — fuck — so annoying.”

“I said shut up,” Jungkook hissed, his cock hitting deep inside you with a strong hit of his hips against yours. You could feel him everywhere, mercilessly pushing his way inside your tight walls and stretching them wide for him.

Your eyes instantly fell shut, eyebrows raising as he started to set a rhythm, moving in and out of your soaked heat. The sounds of your bodies meeting was dirty and, worst of all, it was super perceptible to any one passing by — however, in typical Jungkook magic, you quickly forgot about most of your worries. “Oh my… Jungkook,” you gasped, feeling his grasp on your skin grow tighter at the uttering of his name. “Someone’s… someone’s gonna hear us.”

But you had successfully managed to piss Jungkook off, which was a terrible sign in that specific (public) situation. “Shit, you’re always like this,” he groaned, raising the force of his thrusts. A desperate moan died on your throat at the feeling of his cock drilling in and out of you, your breath shallow. That couldn’t be good. “Can’t stop fucking talking.”

Thinking was starting to get difficult, and speaking was even worse. “That’s not what I—”

Another whimper broke your sentence, your trail of thought long forgotten, and he used that opening to his advantage. One of Jungkook’s hands slithered from your hip to the front of your body, moving between your breasts before, at last, settling on your neck. There was no strength on his actions when he pulled you backwards, making your back press against his chest. “Why can’t you understand when I tell you to be fucking quiet, uh?” His voice was a rough growl close to your ear, filled with so much hunger that you almost lost your balance. Before you did, however, the tap of two of his fingers on your lips made your focus shift. “Do both of us a fucking favor and put your mouth to good use.”

For the first time that night, you were obedient. Without hesitation, you parted your lips so his fingers could move inside your mouth, a deep exhale leaving his chest once you started sucking on them; muffling your whimpers.

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, his momentaneous anger slipping away from his grasp. You could feel Jungkook throbbing inside you every time you swirled your tongue around his digits, his length splitting you open like no one else could. “You’re so fucking tight. The only reason why I don’t stuff your mouth full of my cock right now is because this pussy is too good.”

You clenched around him, tried to say something that sounded like gibberish with his fingers still in your mouth. Amazingly so, Jungkook understood what it was.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You could only nod, your body bouncing up and down with the force of his precise thrusts. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “You know, I should just leave you like this, see if you learn to shut up for once.”

“Pfflease, no,” you struggled to get out.

“No? Now you listen to what I have to say?” Jungkook kept teasing you, watching as your initial petulant attitude was washed away. Doing that to you seemed to be a habit that he couldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the way you fumbled and whimpered under his grasp that inflated his ego more than anything. “You only listen when I have you like this. Don’t you think that’s funny?”

Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your mouth, using that hand to press your body closer to his; tattooed arm wrapped in an iron grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point; you were just trying to grasp at anything that could bring you some sort of salvation. Maybe if you tried to appease his pestering spirit, he wouldn’t be so cruel when it came to your release. “Jungkook, please.”

“Please what?” He asked, his breath ragged against your ear; sounding like he was almost getting lost in your pussy.

“Please let me cum, please,” you begged. You didn’t know how he managed to do it: to make your entire personality crumble down into a desperate, needy mess with little to no effort. He knew just the right buttons to push; just the right way to fuck you. It was a dangerous game that you were playing and the score clearly wasn’t in your favor.

“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, a particularly loud moan ripping itself from his throat at another hash buckle of his hips. He was fucking your so well that you couldn’t even remember where you were for a second, all inihibitions pushed aside as your mind turned into a hazed, disconnected mess. “First, be a good girl and let me fill you up.”

You nodded desperately, not trusting yourself to say anything else. The heat in your stomach was building up at a worrisome speed, threatening to spill over at any given second, and yet you didn’t think it would happen quick enough.

Just as you expected, Jungkook was cumming a few thrusts later, spilling himself inside your pussy as he groaned against your shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he was fighting for air, trying to keep his moans as quiet as he could manage them. And yet, when his mouth right next to your ear, you could hear with divine clarity the beautiful, airy sighs he gifted you as he continued to fuck you through his high. “Take it, come on. Fuck.”

You were almost pleading for your own body to hush and allow you to cum before Jungkook pulled away but, once again, you weren’t that lucky. You were left with shaky legs as he removed himself from your heat; feeling awfully empty as he swirled you around before crashing his mouth against yours in a messy kiss.

Yes, Jungkook fucked you like no one else could, but kissing him managed to be even more heavenly sometimes. Time and time again, he would surprise you with kisses that left you seeking for air; the slow drag of his tongue against yours matching perfectly with the way his hand cupped your cheek, thumb delicately caressing the skin. It was the eye of a hurricane, the tranquil skies before the storm hit, and you could get lost in it with such ease that it scared you sometimes.

But then he pulled away, and the magic left you just as quickly as it had arrived. “J-Jungkook, I didn’t—“

“Shh, baby, I know.” Another tender kiss against your lips, and his mouth moved to your jaw, nibbling on the skin. “Gonna clean you up, princess. Don’t worry.”

Brain too overwhelmed to react, you were left speechless as Jungkook trailed a path of sloppy kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine before, at last, getting down on his knees before you. A question got trapped in your throat, rapidly forgotten, when he raised one of your thighs and placed it over his shoulder. “Hold this up for me.” He signed at the hem of your dress, and you did as he requested, pulling the fabric to the level of your breasts. “That’s my girl.”

A shivering sigh danced on your tongue as you waited for him to move, his eyes eagerly taking in the way his release dripped between your folds, mingling with your own wetness. Jungkook loved to watch his work. “So pretty,” Jungkook mumbled, as he always did; sounding like he was trapped in a daydream. Like you weren’t actually supposed to hear that. “Always so pretty for me.”

You got lost in his praise for exactly two seconds before he was leaning in and pressing his mouth against your heat. Your hips buckled forward, barely held in place by his strong arms around your thighs. “Jungkook,” you called his name, making his dark eyes snap towards yours. His tongue prodded against your opening once, twice, teasing your pussy a few times before he licked his path up your slit, lips wrapping around your clit. “God, so good.”

Jungkook hummed against your heat, lapping between your folds like he was a starved animal, not caring about the fact that his own cum was mixed with your arousal. You were starting to consider that maybe he had a bit of an oral fixation, because you never saw him so focused as when he had his face buried between your thighs; his tongue playing with your sensitive spots so eagerly that you couldn’t help but whine out his name.

“Oh— Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling as that familiar pressure started to build on the base of your spine. Your hands were sweaty, clenching onto the fabric of your flowery dress as Jungkook continued to moan and lick his way around your pussy. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Jungkook was looking up at you through the thick curtain of his messy hair, his devilish eyes sparking up in a silent dare for you to make a mess on his tongue. At the same time that he told you to keep quiet, you knew that he got off when you were loud — especially in a place like that, where the two of you could get caught. He was a fucking demon when he wanted to be, and he seriously didn’t have any trouble dragging you to hell along with him.

The worst part was that you liked it. You liked it since the very first time he had you, liked the way he took your precious control away from you. You liked when he had you like that: a shivering, desperate mess hanging by a thread; dwelling in the fantastic sensation of his wet muscle prodding your entrance, fucking it open as he stared up at you like he could eat you whole.

It was always the sight of Jungkook like that — between your thighs, eating you out like you were his favorite sweet — that pushed you over the edge. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling your needy cries as you finally reached your high, his tongue still playing with your clit as you came down. Jungkook groaned as a small wave of your arousal dripped on him, his mouth expertly cleaning it up, just like he had promised.

“S-Stop,” you whimpered, a violent shiver overtaking your muscles as you started to feel the effects of your sensitivity. “Too much.”

After a final stroke of his tongue against your slick, Jungkook tugged your panties back in place and removed your thigh from his shoulder before, finally, he moved back to his feet. Your hand, weak, let go of the fabric and allowed your dress to collapse back into place, covering the mess between your legs.

He smirked at your overwhelmed, fucked-out state as he tugged himself back inside his pants. The sound of his zipper was once again a noisy interruption, which brought along a new wave of panic as you remembered your location.

You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, twisting it around so you could look at his watch. “We have five minutes until closing time.” You sighed heavily, looking up at him with your typical irritated stare. His magic didn’t last for long, after all. “Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice as he watched your expression. He ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it back. “Incredibly handsome? Charismatic? Good at everything? Including eati—”

“I was going to ask why do you have the inherent need to defile religious places, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you interrupted. “By the way, this,” you pointed between you two, “is not happening again. So I hope you had a good last time.”

Jungkook chuckled, holding your chin with his fingers. “This is like the third time you’re saying that, baby.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, barely a tender press of his lips against yours. “But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230

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savrenim · 3 years

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i am running thru ur tumblr to find ONE POST to cite for tvtropes, and i agree so hard with the soulmate stuff. what if my soulmate is an awful abuser, i want the choice to NOT be with them without some painful physical consequence or loss of perception if i don't date them just because the universe said we were "meant to be"... plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist and less like an ass pull so you could justify getting 2 characters together

oH gods this is something that I have SO many feelings about that probably is slightly informed by my own orientation and preferences, but. feelings. this got long so it's going under the cut

so there are three and a half major things that I have a problem with in terms of general soulmate tropes that are "there is one person who is your perfect romantic partner" (which to be fair I've seen a number of soulmate AUs do that trope with the addendum "although it only applies to a certain percentage of the population / not everyone has soulmates / everyone has soulmates but not everyone has SUPER PERFECT ROMANTIC soulmates" which at least somewhat avoids the statistic inevitability of abusive soulmates if combined with Fate Can See The Future And So Your Fated Soulmate Just Won't Be) and these complaints aren't even from the "I'm poly where's my poly rep" kind of place which is a whole 'nother bag of worms, but let's go:

1. I aggressively believe that love is a choice. Love is something that is built, not predetermined before you meet someone. There might be initial compatibility aspects going down when you first meet someone, but, like. statistically there are more than seven and a half billion people on this planet. If there is only a single person perfectly meant for you, again, statistically, you are not going to meet them, I've seen the figure thrown that on average a person will meet on the order 10,000 people in their lifetime but let's even go 100,000, you will meet 0.001% of the world's population. Unless you think some sort of divine coincidence or fate is guiding you to a soulmate which throws free will out the window and then I can't help you but, like. discarding the math, I think it is actively harmful to a relationship to believe that it can be sustained on chemistry or predetermined 'but we're perfect for each other' alone. It requires work. You choose who is in your life, you choose who stays in your life, you choose who you want to be important to you based on what they contribute to your life and what you contribute to theirs.

(I am assuming this ask is at least partially in reaction to my soulmate post, which actually the fic in question, a buried and a burning flame, has since gone up. I highly recommend reading Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard first, but besides the setup for arson wizards that alas is never used because the fire mage with a soulmate in question is Responsible, I decided to both tackle 'okay soulmarks trope too let's throw it in', which leads to the not-really-a-spoiler passage that appears fairly early on about actually the full layout (albeit with less detail on the 'yeah for mages it just helps ground their magic, nothing romantic about it' part) of my Soulmate Rules:

Soulmates existed, both in the Empire of Astandalas and across the Wide Seas. They just worked slightly differently in Vangavaye-ve than the rest of the worlds.

The rest of the Empire seemed to view soulmates as a monolith. From what Cliopher had been able to glean, the tradition was grounded in their magic. Magi had soulmates, or rather, magic-workers would each have a soulmate. Cliopher wasn't clear if all magic-workers had a soulmate, or if magic-workers simply could have one, but there was always a mage in soulmate pairs, and it was always a pair. There were no marks, no visible signs involved, as soulmates were something that were sensed with magic. They were permanent, intrinsic, and to be recognized immediately.

To Wide Sea Islanders, soulmates were a choice.

The soul-marks, lana and lani-voa, would appear the first time you touched someone that you had chosen to love, with the full knowledge that you loved them. Cliopher had the marks of his mother and father, his sisters, Basil and Dimiter, Bertie and Ghilly. His skin was covered lovingly with the colors of his love, marks that he had gotten used to concealing with long sleeves in Astandalas when he had gotten tired of the constant staring at his 'primitive tattoos'.

Buru Tovo had been the only one to give him lani-voa, a greater mark of the soul. The pattern, with its thick lines and twisting design in a deep blue, extended over the entirety of his left arm and shoulder. They were the dances of his family pressed onto his skin, and he had traced them over with reverent and feather-light touch for months after he had received them. A lani-voa marked someone who had changed your life for the better in a deep and irrevocable way. It was a great honor to have even one.

And now, with the gold stretching up his right arm, new patterns that he didn't recognize stretching up from a handprint of pure gold that was expanding the longer he held that first contact with Tor—

now he had two.

(Buru Tovo is Cliopher's great uncle, for context. In fact, everyone listed there is either a familial or platonic relationship, with a single relationship that used to be romantic but settled into platonic.))

so. yeah. Love is a choice! The Biggest Of Moods! any soulmate lore that undermines that is a Bad Message, in my opinion.

The emphasis also on platonic soulmates leads into my second point:

2. I have found in my life that platonic relationships that I have are and have always been as important if not moreso than the romantic relationships. the emphasis of a single romantic relationship as the most important relationship that you can be in maybe fits for some people, but as a generalization to absolutely everyone I think is toxic and harmful. and not just for aro people! I'm not aro, but I would be miserable to write off my friends as Less Important And Meaningful to me than my parter, whom I love with all my heart! (I've actually ended up in my life settling into what I call the red/blue/gold system for 'relationships that I treat with the importance that society treats romantic relationships', but that's a personal thing). The standard soulmate trope tends to really solidly deliver the thesis of "there is a single romantic relationship that is the single most important relationship in your life" and I just think that's a very bad thesis.

3. Finally, I think the emphasis on permanent/forever is a harmful one for relationships in general. People change. you drift closer to people or further away from them. you move, they move, your schedules change, your interests change, your life changes. if you are living with a romantic partner you're going to keep seeing each other every day, but that doesn't stop you from changing as a person, which means see Point 1 Love Is A Choice; but even if you choose to remain together, you are probably eventually going to Ship Of Theseus your entire relationship. I think it is an important message that if that happens and it is no longer a relationship that is as deeply positive as it once was in your life, you don't...have to keep it out of loyalty to what it once was.

It's okay for people to drift out of your life that were once the most important person in your life. It doesn't invalidate how important and meaningful that relationship used to be, and it isn't a betrayal to let yourself and them and your relationships change and evolve. The idea that something has to be forever for it to matter I think is the idea about soulmates that I disagree with the most. Probably because that was the hardest lesson for me to learn as a kid and a teenager, and the life lesson that I am proudest for learning.

3.5 your point 'plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist' is exactly on the nose, literally I am unable to write anything without attempting to write down a universal theory of everything for How The World Works. if something soulmate-wise is going down even if it never appears on the page you bet your ass I have either figured out the general cosmology and theology of "are there gods or divine forces who have instituted this policy? if so, why? what purpose does it serve", or in the case of abaabf which already has such interesting magic rules in the original canon of "is there an evolutionary reason for soulmates to exist" which I don't go tracing out full evolutionary biology for a fic necessarily mostly because I would want the full evolutionary biology in canon to make sure mine is compliant enough but that sure as hell does translate to "if soulmates exist and it's not for the reason of Because Godlike Beings Said So, there better be a practical purpose". I find at least long-form soulmate fics (ie things With Plot and a Developed Setting that aren't just "let's do a ficlet with this well-known trope") that Do Not Feel Like They've At Least Thought About Why Soulmates Happen To Exist hurt my soul. which I think slightly intersects with my "I hate it when the rules of the universe/ laws of physics are human-centric" instead of "the base rules which were not designed for humans came first, and how the human world works arose in reaction to them" and. yeah. consistent desire to know at least for myself why things are set up the way that they're set up which gods ifmlam is wild and completely bullshit and pulls from quantum multiverse philosophy I started writing that thing when I was like. eighteen? nineteen? but at least it's there so I can be consistent.

as a caveat for everything above: I don't actually think that fiction, fanfiction in particular, needs to perfectly reflect what A Good Relationship or A Good Message About Relationships should be. it is a very human desire in a chaotic and confusing world to want a simple, absolute, binary thing to hold onto. fiction is a place for escapism or wish fulfillment or even exploring things that you wouldn't actually want in real life, I think that the movement in fandom/fiction that all of the messaging in your story should match the advice you'd give for a real-life setup is a bad and harmful one. mostly my opinions on soulmates and hence desire to do inversions of the soulmate trope in my fic and things like the red/blue/gold system and heavy emphasis on platonic relationships in original work that I'm writing is about a desire to see representation for me and the things I love and find important and my sort of relationships in the stories that are a big part of my life. but I am really glad that in doing so I seem to have struck a chord in other people, who maybe want to see the same thing!

#my life #my writing #abaabf #soulmates #also what post are you looking for/ what is its general topic if you haven't found it #I might remember a few keywords and be able to help you search

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jasperwhitcock · 4 years

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equinox | chapter 07 –– “a cruel god, a wrathful goddess”

here is chapter six of my bella as a vampire and edward as a human fanfic inspired by an au that @bellasredchevy posted. you can read the new chapter on AO3 or here. i post updates on AO3 or on tumblr using the #equinoxjw tag. but it seems 10/10 times my tag does not work, so that is a fun mystery for me to solve.

oof... sometimes u get distracted and then ur sister gets married and then u get unmotivated & d*pressed and forget to update ur fanfic for over three months... my bad y'all... sorry for the wait hehe. i hope it is worth it. again, i'm so thankful for the comments & i read them all. i get too shy to respond, but i WILL. i just need to talk myself up first. i love u. thank u. hehe. ♡♡♡ merry christmas/happy holidays if i fail u again before the 25th. i WANT to update more frequently. my catchphrase these days is "i'm trying my best," so... i'm trying my best.

this is for the sweet anons who slide into my ask box & ask me questions abt my fanfic. and for taryn, who consistently reminds me that there are people wanting to read this seeing as she is one of those people, kim, who i am so desperate to impress that i began working on a new chapter once she started to read my fanfic, and kae, because without her, this fanfic would never have existed in the first place. i love how i'm writing this as though it's the intro to an actual book when it's literally just chapter seven. ok, i will shut up now so u can read. love u. again.

07 A CRUEL GOD, A WRATHFUL GODDESS

In great contrast to the noisy ambience of the other students in the hallway, we were silent on our walk to our shared biology class. I wondered how conscious Edward was of the stares and whispers focused on our proximity to one another, but my guess was that he was very much conscious of it. I intentionally ignored glancing in any direction that I sensed one of my siblings’ presence, although I figured it was mostly paranoia driving me to feel as though we were about to cross paths. Holding my breath to more easily walk beside Edward left my senses impaired to the ability to pinpoint their location.

I was lucky that for the majority of my immortal life, I’d managed to escape unwanted attention. But now, it seemed that precious luck had finally run out. Maybe embarrassment had been creeping up on me, maliciously building itself up all these years, waiting until just the right moment to rear its ugly head and exact revenge that immorality had stolen its favorite object of humiliation to torment. But here it was, ensuring that I was finally catching up on feeling awkward and out of step, a feeling I experienced for what seemed like the entirety of my human life. I thought once I’d been changed, I’d never feel this way again, but becoming misaligned with my family made me feel bashful to parade my defiance in their faces. I had operated better under no scrutiny as a mortal and was surprised to realize that that still held true as an immortal as well. Because though there was now never a struggle of staying upright or a risk of tripping over my own feet, that didn’t prevent me from feeling self-conscious as I walked beside Edward. Although for different reasons –– it was too mortifying to consider what my family might make of what my actions suggested about my feelings towards Edward.

And yet still, I would put up with the ridicule and disapproval of my siblings if it meant I could listen to Edward speak his silly philosophical theology, his questioning of god and existence, for just a few more hours. If I were going to be teased over Alice’s visions regardless, I might as well find out what I can about this pretentious boy before I leave him alone forever. If only to understand why his moving to this small town threatened to warp my own future so much. In losing night and in losing death, there were so very little anomalies in the endless amount of time I’d been given. So what would it hurt to allow myself to fixate on this minuscule difference in my life for just awhile?

It could hurt Edward, a more selfless part of myself reminded me. If indulging myself was playing with fire, I was being justly punished with the way flames were efflorescing the inside of my dry, burning throat.

If a god did exist, why would it make sense for such a being to craft someone like Edward with his perceptivity, and send him off to this small town, home to a secret such as ours? If a god did exist, why it would be fair for such a being to craft someone like Edward, someone who tempted me both in bloodlust and in curiosity, and send him off to this small town, home to the very vampire who desperately wished to kill him most? If a god did exist, if our kind had fallen short of heaven, I could understand why sending Edward into our path –– and more specifically, my path –– could be some kind of punishment. But what I couldn’t understand is why a god would allow someone as innocent as Edward to be endangered for the sake of bringing a sinful, undead creature to justice. It seemed the only reasonable explanation would be that a god probably did not exist.

And how could there be? I was on the precipice of falling into temptation with every step further in the hallway and every question he asked and answered. I could never not be very much aware of the fact –– especially now with his body merely inches from my side and his sweet fragrance blooming both deliciously and relentlessly in the air. And even as I impossibly withstood the lure of his blood, how was I meant to ignore the irresistibility of his mind and how inexplicably concerned I was to understand it? It seemed like a very cruel experiment of free will and knowledge –– far too cruel to allow much room for the kind of god Edward hoped for.

I frowned as I realized that this experiment wasn’t that of a cruel god’s but that of a cruel vampire, and I felt very much like a vampire as the sound of his heartbeat was so appealing that it made my mouth water.

“Do the stares bother you?” Edward spoke quietly to me as we weaved throughout the hallway. Easily distracted, his question was able to pull the more civilized parts of myself together, though this was probably also in thanks to my choosing not to utilize my sense of smell. I found it funny that at least one of his thoughts had been in a similar vicinity. But of course, the rest of his thoughts were probably free of all consuming agony and struggle. For all his curiosity about morality, to inflict this existence upon him would probably devour him in misery. At least as a human, despite whatever conclusions he may come to, there was still some hope to be had for an afterlife. This thought should have been dark and depressing, but because it made Alice’s vision seem like a complete hoax, I almost found it funny. How would Edward ever end up like me?

“Oh, no,” I swallowed the venom in my mouth. “I live for attention.” I watched from the corner of my eyes as his gaze flickered over to me, the ever present half smile appearing on his face at my joke. My answer came out so comfortably as though I was used to this, when in reality, the student body for the most part had grown accustomed to ignoring me. And, of course, there was nothing comfortable about the demanding, aching dryness in my mouth or the burning in my nostrils. “How about you?”

“Likewise,” he joked, laughing. “This is interesting –– their fascination. I understood their interest on my first day because I’d guess a new addition to the student body in a town this small is something of a rarity, but today, walking by your side is garnering even more attention. Is it a once in a lifetime opportunity to have Bella Cullen walk you to class?”

“You’re just so observant, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, though the corners of my mouths pulled up despite myself. “And I’m not walking you to class. I’m walking to a class I just so happen to share with you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I think they’re just surprised because they’re probably under the impression that I don’t play nice with others.”

“And do you?”

“You tell me,” I replied, pausing to face him beside a wall of lockers next to the entrance of our biology classroom. As he stopped beside me, a gust of air from a passing student walking hastily down the hallway sent his scent reeling into me at an unfortunate moment where I’d chosen to breathe in. My muscles tensed to spring, and I desperately anchored myself to the floor as my mind fell into disarray.

“Nicely enough,” Edward winked naturally as though we’d been the best of friends since his first day. The demanding thirst was intruding on my awareness, and the desperation for something wet and hot and delicious in my desiccated throat was so dizzying that his voice sounded as though it were underwater. With an effort as though I were swimming through drying cement, I resurfaced, just barely proving my dominion over the desire. I focused on his voice so that it’d become clearer, forcing myself to take another excruciating breath in and exhale the fire out. “I will say I am honored to be the exception –– to be plucked from the masses by the renowned, reclusive Bella Cullen.”

With torturous effort, I snorted as though I wasn’t fighting everything within me to keep him alive. I breathed in again heavily, allowing my body to become a pyre so that I could speak. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop saying my name like that. And you’ve lost the privilege. I am never walking you to class again,” I rolled my eyes even though my joke could very much be the truth. The bunching of my muscles, the twitching of my hands, and the fierce pain in my throat reminded me of the fact. Before he could point out the contradiction of what I’d previously clarified, I sighed. “Let’s take this quiz.”

His pretty green eyes were alive with mischief and enlightened with what must be more answers to questions he hadn’t outright asked me as he turned to enter the classroom. I followed behind him towards our shared table.

Air from the vent rushed out, thrusting the scent of his blood wafting into my face again. I paused for an indistinguishable moment as I battled agony, murderousness, monstrosity. Holy fuck. What was I trying to prove! Was it really worth this? Swallowing hard, I sat beside him as though nothing happened. My suffering was so great that Emmett could have brutally ripped my arm off, he could have beat me with it, and I wouldn’t have noticed nor felt a thing. I could have been set on fire, and it’d feel like sinking into a cool pool of water on an even cooler day. I was already burning alive, my body acting as a furnace, and I was imprisoned inside it.

Without intending to, I sighed aloud, exhaling as though it would smother the flames. It was a stupid, attention seeking thing to do. Humans sighed to expel air or express some sadness or relief or exhaustion, so when my family emitted an audible breath, we did so as a means of blending in. But to breath out in a way to clue Edward into the fact something was plaguing me… it was a stupid invitation for more questions. And these were questions I had no intention of sharing the answers to. I felt his eyes on me, but before he could say anything, Mr. Molina began passing out quizzes face down on our lab tables as students continued to pile in from lunch.

“Alright, class. Today we have a pop quiz–– oh, come on, guys, don’t groan. You will have the opportunity to make corrections after these have been graded. This is just an assessment of what you’ve retained from this unit so far. You will have the entire period to complete–– thanks for joining us, Mr. Patterson, glad you could fit my class into your busy schedule. Why don’t you take your seat? –– You will have the entire period to complete your quiz. If you finish early, feel free to get a head start on this weekend’s homework! I’ve written the reading down on the board. Aw, I’m sure you’re all moaning because you’re disappointed at how light of an assignment it is because I just know how very excited you all are to continue your passionate pursuit of studying biology. Alright, now that everyone’s settled–– wait a minute––” Mr. Molina paused, raising his pointer finger in the air, his eyes squinted in anticipation. Three seconds later, the bell signaled the beginning of class. “Begin!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward reluctantly turn away from me. In an elegant script, he wrote his name at the top of the paper and began his quiz. I turned away from him to look at my own paper, preparing myself to uncomfortably hold my breath for the next hour. The difference this made in my thirst was almost insignificant, but enough so that it gave me a tiny more leverage in my control. I smoothed out the pucker on my forehead with the eraser from my pencil, accidentally snapping the rubber off against my face.

Absentmindedly, I began to breeze through the assessment, circling the correct answers, but my mind was more absorbed in the warmth of sitting beside Edward. Aside from the affliction of doing so, it was too pleasurable to have sat beside him so often and for so long today. I enjoyed the toastiness like a lizard basking in the sun. It made me recall the muddy human memory of laying out on a blanket in my backyard beneath my beloved blue Arizona sky, hiding beneath the small shade of a book. Not the blistering heat of a summertime Phoenix sun, but the warmth of the first day of spring. But the heat of Edward’s body alone was enough to fill my mouth with venom, so I tried to refocus my attention onto my quiz.

When I turned to the last page of questions, a motion beside me diverted my concentration once again. I peeked over, turning my head slightly in Edward’s direction to see what it was. As he thought over one of the questions, his right hand was moving peculiarly as he lifted and dropped down his long fingers almost as though he were impatiently tapping each digit one by one along the tabletop. Except the movement was more exact and calculatingly random. Engrossed, I watched as his his soft, fragile skin rippled over the muscle, the tendons appearing and disappearing with every bizarre movement. It took me a moment to make the connection between the large grand piano in his home and the motion of his hands. I realized he was miming piano movements while he thought through his answers. There was something both weird, funny, and endearing about this. I smiled to myself, not having the required oxygen to quietly laugh.

I felt his curious eyes flicker over to me and watched peripherally as he raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, biting down on my lip to unsuccessfully fight the smile, and returned to completing my quiz.

I finished a moment later and impatiently waited another ten minutes or so before I could turn in my work. I tried to ignore Edward for this small period of time at least, mentally reading myself the opening chapter to Wuthering Heights. Even though the words were committed to my memory, it was still never as good as actually reading from the book itself.

Once I’d decided an appropriate enough time had passed, I stood up to walk my quiz to the completed basket on Mr. Molina’s desk. Even having waited, I was still the first to finish the examination.

“Thank you,” the teacher whispered without breaking his focus away from the crossword puzzle he peered through his glasses at. I breathed in now that I’d placed some distance between myself and Edward, gladly facing the cool, fresh air from the vent.

“Neophyte,” I whispered back now that I’d replenished my oxygen supply.

“Excuse me?” He glanced up, his slightly aged face confused.

“Neophyte,” I repeated. “Eight across, two down.”

I took in one last clean breath and walked back to my seat as he tapped his pen across the squares of the space, mouthing his count of the letters to check if the word fit.

As soon as I took my place in my seat again, Edward stood up to walk his own quiz to the basket.

I wanted to watch him, but instead I forced myself to unzip my backpack and retrieve the biology textbook.

Busying myself with the assigned chapters, deciding to actually read them so as to not feed into my invasive Edward obsession, I couldn’t help but listen as Edward too placed his own textbook on the countertop.

I heard the scribble of pen on paper as he began to write what I imagined were notes until his large hand slid the paper over to me beneath the wall of my hair spilling over the desk. Well, I wouldn’t ignore him if he was the one deciding to bother me.

You know I’m pretty certain that cheating is a violation of the student handbook, but I’ll let you get away with it just this once.

I turned to glance at his face to see if he were serious. His eyes were warm and inviting, his mouth in the same crooked smile.

I took the piece of paper and looked around for my writing utensil that had gone missing somehow. My eyes zeroed in on a suspicious, tiny pile of wood dust on my side of the desk. When had I brutalized my pencil? He held his hand out to offer his own pen, and I accepted it, carefully plucking it from his fingers without making contact.

I wasn’t cheating. You were doing something funny. And what do you know about the student handbook? You’re new.

I slid the paper and pen back to him and watched as he combed a hand through his bronze hair, reading my response. The smile grew wider as he construed the biting tone of my note.

Can I be let in on the joke? Edward wrote, turning to look at me once he was done. Again I was prisoner, though this time not to my own body. I was momentarily held hostage by the beauty and warmth of his light green eyes. I was understanding more and more the attraction the other students had for him. If I had a soul, it was as though he were staring straight into it.

I recovered, placing my hand atop the desk and then wiggling my fingers as though I were weaving my way through a very complicated piano piece.

Oh, Edward mouthed, immediately understanding. He silently laughed and placed his left hand to his forehead briefly as if to hide his face in mock embarrassment. The ink from the pen spilled onto the paper as he began to write again.

In my defense, there’s research that supports classical music puts students in a heightened emotional state, making them more receptive to information and helping them focus.

That’s very nerdy of you. I scribbled back, the corners of my lips pulled upwards.

I know. As I read the words on the notebook paper, we both laughed a little too loudly for the quietness of the room.

“Please remain silent for your classmates still working,” Mr. Molina stage-whispered from his desk, his eyes still fixated on the crossword puzzle.

It’s a bad habit. Edward tacked on to his message. I beamed. I knew a thing or two about bad habits today. I was appreciative of this silent conversation on paper; it made it easier to be beside him without needing to breathe to speak aloud.

What were you playing? I scrawled.

Clair de Lune. Edward wrote back. His thick eyebrows raised as my eyes lit up, and he continued writing. You know Debussy?

My mother used to play a lot of classical music around the house. It was one of my favorites.

It’s one of my favorites, too. Edward’s eyes were a little sad and lost in thought, and he smiled softly.

I was shocked by the change in expression and weirdly desperate to return the brightness back to his eyes. The burn in my throat was almost forgettable in the face of my concern. Almost, but not quite. He turned his head down to write on the paper again.

You said Rosalie played piano. You never learned? He turned to look at me, his expression curious. I shook my head and shrugged, reaching for the pen.

I didn’t think I had the coordination for it. While this was true for the time I was human, it wasn’t true now. Still, even though my days stretched into endless nights, I hadn’t yet devoted time to any instrument as an immortal.

Edward read the paper, his long pointer finger tracing the line beneath the words as he did so. He held his large hand out, and I dropped the pen into it.

I’ll show you sometime. Edward half smiled at me, his eyes sweet and earnest.

Knowing I shouldn’t be allowing him to think making a plans with me was an option, I reached for the pen to tell him that it was alright, but I froze as he suddenly moved to drop the pen and take my hand. Though he should have been the one hesitant and cautious as though approaching a dangerous, wounded animal, I held perfectly still as though he were the danger, and I needed to play dead for protection. You can’t play dead if you are dead, I thought to myself.

My body tensed as my hand was enveloped in the heat of his much larger palm, uncertain as to what he was doing. My muscles screamed at me as I clenched my free hand into a tight fist, terrified of myself.

A shiver rippled through him as he felt the chill of my frozen fingers, and I twitched the hand in his possession, wanting to yank it away to protect him from the iciness but not wanting to alert him with the swiftness of the motion.

He smiled mysteriously at the spasm as though he somehow expected it. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking but didn’t want to risk breathing. My control could too easily be lost. Besides, I was scared that if I were to open my mouth, I’d end up screaming.

I felt him push slightly and realized he wished for me to curl my fingers, so with great concentration and the acute awareness of his fragility, I moved my stony hand into the shape he directed, my fingers curved slightly beneath his like a relaxed talon. I didn’t like the shape; it was odd and inhuman and made me think of the violence I could cause.

But it wasn’t a claw. Because once my hand was positioned the way he wanted, he began to slowly place pressure on my fingers, and I dipped and rose them accordingly to carefully move with his. I watched as the two of our hands together played what I imagined must be the opening chords to Clair de Lune.

The disconcerting emptiness in my chest soared at the bizarre pleasure of this touch, and a weird sensation tickled my scalp, moving swiftly down my spine to my entire body.

My muscles tightened violently and then relaxed, sending a shiver to ripple through me. It was too much pleasure and too much pain as my throat ached and I leaned into the warmth.

Embarrassed and not wanting to push my luck, I cautiously pulled my hand slowly away. He lifted his hand to allow me to escape as though I couldn’t just break his hand to do so, a half-smile pulling on his lips. I pretended not to notice the goosebumps on his arms.

See? he mouthed before deciding to whisper. “You could do it.”

I forced myself to smile and then turned away for the rest of the hour, trying to keep from doing anything stupid like looking at him or killing him. I’d completely forgotten where we were.

When the bell finally rung, I collected my things atop the desk hastily. Edward reached for my backpack and held it up for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured as I dumped my books into the bag. Before I could take it from him, he slid it onto his back and nodded his head once for me to go forward.

Feeling awkward, I turned and allowed him to follow me to the door. I was lucky to walk in front of him, taking the opportunity to breath again as the vent blew out in front of my face.

Exiting the classroom, I paused for a second when I saw Emmett waiting for me across the hallway rather than his typical spot beside the wall of lockers next to our shared Spanish classroom. Even though I was well aware of the fact I’d been dangling my irresponsibility in their faces all day, I still felt as though I was being caught in the act.

Emmett’s eyebrows raised as his golden eyes watched Edward follow behind me, carrying my backpack. I crossed the hallway reluctantly towards my big brother.

“Hello,” I greeted him, avoiding his eyes. I felt smaller than ever beside him with my head down, and yet not small enough as I wished to disappear.

“Hey, little sis,” Emmett began uncertainly, though I glanced up to see his full lips were beginning to stretch into a smile that I didn’t like. “Who’s that with you?”

“Uh…”

“I’m Edward Masen,” the lanky human boy introduced himself confidently as he stopped beside me. “And you must be––”

“Emmett,” my brother interrupted, grinning as though he always so comfortably interacted with humans. This was all too weird, but he looked to be enjoying it far too much. His desire to mess with me and his confidence in Alice’s visions seemed to override the abnormality of speaking to a student so amicably. I watched as he breathed in and shot me a meaningful look. I grimaced.

I opened my mouth to put an end to this torturously awkward interaction, but Emmett interrupted again.

“It’s nice to see you made a friend,” he began, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched my face. I was confused as to where he was going with this because our entire family would come across as misanthropic to the rest of the school, so why should it matter to him. He turned his attention to look at Edward who was closer in height to him. “You know, we worry about her––”

“Okay, let’s go to Spanish,” I cut him off quickly. “Edward, can I have my bag, please?”

Without looking at him, I reached for my backpack as he offered it and threw it over my shoulder, heading down the hallway. It was a massive relief to put some distance between myself and Edward. My thoughts were clearer, and I could breathe freely.

Emmett burst into laughter, his guffaws booming in the hallway. Several students paused in fear making me concerned about Edward’s reaction to my giant of a sibling, but I relaxed when I heard Edward chuckling along with him.

“Um, see you,” Emmett said to Edward before his steady, near silent footfall followed after me.

Even moving at a lethargic human pace, he caught up to me quickly.

“That wasn’t funny,” I grumbled.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emmett chuckled, ignoring my question.

“What the hell are you doing? What was that back there?”

“I don’t know. That was weird, but not as weird as you playing with your food.”

I hissed quietly.

“Damn, I’m kidding, Bells. But seriously, what are you doing? What happened to your high and noble speech about doing the right thing and staying away from the kid? I thought Esme was about to produce real tears. It even softened Rose.”

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about Rosalie right now. She’s been giving me dirty looks all day. It makes me feel awful. I already feel bad!”

“Well, I don’t really care what you do either way so––” I looked at him questionably. “I mean, sure, I want you to do the right thing, whatever that means. I don’t want you to feel miserable. But on one end, I didn’t really mind so much what happened to me.”

“Rosalie did,” I countered.

“Yeah, Rose did,” he acquiesced quietly.

“Anyways, I’m not having that conversation. I wasn’t talking to him today to test whether or not he’s worth it. That’s… unethical.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned in answer.

Emmett laughed.

“You’re weird these days, Bella.”

“You’re weird everyday,” I quipped back before sighing. “I don’t know. He’s weird, too. I guess… I’m not making any decisions, at all, but if Alice told you what she told me… wouldn’t you be curious?”

Emmett thought it over. “Yeah, I think so. But I also don’t think I’d have even made it to this point,” he admitted. I winced.

“It’s kind of unfair for me to care more about satiating my curiosity and dance with the devil this way, right?”

“Well…he may not know it, but isn’t it more so that Edward’s the one dancing with the devil?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, frowning as we walked into our Spanish class. “I guess it is.”

I made the decision to avoid thinking of Edward for the remaining hour of school. I paid very little attention in Spanish, returning to the familiar mind-numbing boredom that classes had been prior to the last few days. Now that it was in stark contrast to the sudden life breathed into my time at Forks High School by my fixation with Edward, the tedium was no longer something dealt with indifferently and sluggishly. Now, it left me feeling restless, and it almost pained me how laborious it was to sit through a life I wasn’t an active participant in. It was nowhere near the pain of dealing with the excruciating thirst I had around my bronze-haired lab partner, but it almost tampered with my thoughts more knowing I’d feel less miserable if I spent this time analyzing every word Edward shared with me, every fluctuation of his tone, every glint in his perceptive eyes, every expression on his pretty face… But I was becoming too obsessive. The same hunger for adventure that made me fall in love with reading must be what was leading me to so treacherously, so impetuously dive into exploring this insignificant and yet cataclysmic difference in my life.

As though it had a personal vendetta against me, time moved even more lethargically than it ever had before, but finally, the bell signaling the end of school rang. Emmett’s eyes shot a concerned look at me as I rose from my seat too quickly, and I immediately felt embarrassed again. The cautious reminder in his expression made me feel childish as Emmett was never one to care much about bending the rules.

“See you at home, I guess,” he shook his head, giving me one last look that seemed to suggest I’d lost it.

“See you,” I mumbled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaving Emmett behind to wait for Rosalie, I weaved through the crowded hallway and out to the parking lot. Students were bundling together and squealing at the chilling air as tiny, fluffy snowflakes fluttered down from the overcast sky. The floor of the parking lot was almost as glassy as yesterday as the rain from this afternoon had melted into a thin layer of icy mush. Though there was hardly enough snow for a decent snowball fight, some of the rowdier students were bundling up a pitiful pile of snow to form pathetic snowballs in their fists.

I nearly skipped to the pearly white vehicle parked beside Rosalie’s overly conspicuous crimson car which was forming a small crowd of admirers. Leaning against the trunk of the car, I watched the front doors of the school to look for Edward.

The tangle of reddish-brown hair was easy to spot because of its strange metallic tint as he strolled out of the building with Naomi, the student who’d provided him with the information about my family on his first day. He had his coat folded over his arm, revealing how form fitting his light tan turtleneck was. He truly was a very attractive boy. It was odd that I hadn’t really paid much attention initially. With his dazzling face and tall, lean frame, Edward was pretty enough that for the vampires who searched for exquisitely beautiful humans to create into even more stunning immortals, he could probably be a contender for someone to collect.

Thinking of how Emmett questioned my motives today, I quickly banished the idea of Edward as an immortal from my mind, even if it was only a hypothetical inspired by my observation.

Edward paused, asking Naomi if she could hold on to his backpack for a moment. When she grabbed it, he pulled on his long black coat, and fiddled with the collar. Recollecting his backpack, he slid it onto one shoulder, then rubbed his hands together, blowing the warm air from his mouth to heat them up. Thinking of the sweetness of the smell of his breath made me remember to take in swallows of fresh air before he made his way over to me.

As he was distracted momentarily, I watched as a stray snowball flew towards Edward’s head. I was overcome with the urge to intercept it in the event it may hit him too harshly and knock him to the pavement, but flying across the parking lot inhumanly fast twice in one week was probably not the way to go about correcting my mistakes.

The soggy snowball crashed into Edward’s hair, exploding into shards of ice and water that slid down his prominent cheekbone. I laughed aloud at his shocked expression as the curtain bangs framing his face were immediately drenched, darkening his hair into a brown color. Once he’d realized what happened, his face broke into a good-humored smile.

“Holy shit! Sorry, Edward!” The classmate who had thrown the snowball with poor aim called out.

“No worries!” Edward called back. He shook his head, chuckling as he wiped the water from his face. As he laughed, his eyes found the space where I waited and brightened seeing that I, too, was enjoying the moment.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told Naomi, who was too beside herself in tears of laughter to reply.

Edward sauntered over towards me, and I inhaled deeply as a fortuitous whisper of wind blew from the tree line. I held onto the notes of crisp eucalyptus, fresh snow, and cedar wood, trying to distract my mind from the offensively mouthwatering scents approaching me.

Edward was a coordinated human, but even he lost his footing on the icy pavement. His body slid forward for a moment, but I stepped towards him to close the space between us and caught him by the elbow.

He looked up from his boots against the frozen parking lot into my eyes, startled momentarily at the swiftness in which I had appeared. Then, his full lips lifted into a crooked smile that creased his astonishing green eyes into half moons. I let go immediately and took a big step back to ensure a safer distance between myself and the warmth of his fragile body. It had been a risky movement, but somehow in comparison to yesterday, it didn’t seem to matter as much. I figured our classmates were too involved in their gawking at the details of my sister’s car or their feeble, slushy snowball fight to notice, and oddly, I didn’t care that Edward had seen. It was beginning to feel too late to keep up certain pretenses.

Although, it wasn’t too late, and it shouldn’t feel that way. I reminded myself I still had every intention of leaving Edward alone once I’d figured out what was so compelling about our paths crossing that had Alice’s visions spiraling in a confusing jumble. I took another step back slowly.

“Thank you,” Edward said, his eyes humored with another secret he didn’t seem willing to share. “You keep saving me.”

“Well, let’s not make this damsel in distress thing habitual,” I snorted, turning so that he couldn’t see the smile forming on my face. I felt shy about showcasing any comfort or happiness in his presence now that I was reminded of how fleeting this experimental friendship was, but I wondered if subconsciously I wanted him to catch me in my misery and ask me to explain, though I wasn’t certain why I wanted to sabotage myself like that. I opened my door and turned to look at him again. “You coming?”

Before he could answer, I dipped into the driver’s seat, and breathed in one last time. Well, once this was all over, I could finally stop inhaling dramatically as though they were truly my last, dying breaths. The air was mostly clean of his scent, but I knew that regardless, the heat of his body would be enough to disrupt my comfort and control. As the thought crossed my mind, I painfully swallowed back the venom pooling beneath my tongue.

Edward swerved through the crowd obsessing over Rosalie’s car and opened the passenger door, sliding into his seat. As he placed his backpack on the floor and fiddled with his seatbelt, I made sure to adjust the air conditioning so that the heat could warm Edward from the frigid Forks air. Though for me, just being in his presence made the intimate interior of the car feel as though I were again sitting by his fireplace.

“That’s a beautiful car,” he murmured. “Is it an M8?”

“Uh, it’s a BMW?” I asked uncertainly as though he’d spoken another language.

Edward grinned as though he wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make me angry. Rosalie would have loved to answer all his questions if he too had an interest in cars. Would have loved to, if she wasn’t deeply offended by my actions or if I had any intention of Edward meeting any more of my family members.

“Ready?” I bit my lip as I forced out any inconsiderate plots of murder that threatened to distract me from being a defensive driver.

“Mhm,” Edward answered.

I reversed out of the parking slot slowly, but as I looked in the rearview once I’d straightened out, I saw the fleeting image of Rosalie’s exquisitely beautiful and exceptionally angry face. I quickly readjusted the mirror to remove my sister’s reflection and sped out of the parking lot in a way that could have taken out a few unlucky students if I didn’t have above average years of driving experience.

Peripherally, I watched as Edward’s thick eyebrows raised, but he decided not to question me. Once we’d reached the main road, I slowed my speed so as not to rush through this time, even though I knew for his safety and my sanity, I should. As I drove, his right hand moved in odd shapes again against the arm rest of the passenger side door as though he were playing piano once more.

I decided to bite and use up some of my limited air supply.

“What are you playing?”

“Clair de Lune again,” he replied. Then, he began to hum the melody aloud for me as he moved his hand.

I thought to offer to play the song for him through the speakers, but I decided against it as I listened to Edward’s soft, velvety voice hum beautifully through the song, breaking the silence.

The ugly, slush-like falling of snow transformed into a falling of rainwater, and Edward’s voice was orchestrated by a lovely symphony of raindrops.

Before his voice could weave into the more involved moments of the piece, Edward stopped.

I looked over at him, curious for the reason as to why. His face was turned away from me so that all I could see was his untidy bronze hair as he gazed out the window. I pulled in front of his driveway and parked against the curb.

Miraculously, I’d made it again. Carefully, I inhaled through my nose to experiment with my control. The sweet bouquet of the boy’s blood was potent and even more mouthwatering than usual from the snow turned rain that’d wet his hair. I hadn’t considered the possibility that he could smell better than before, and I kept myself from groaning aloud as I dug my nails into my own palms. The tingling sensation in my nose was as though I’d sniffed some powerful chemical, the burning sensation in my throat as though I’d taken a long drag of a cigarette. But more painful. More demanding. Desire, need flew from my core out towards my extremities, and the beating of his heart pumping the blood through his body drummed loudly in my ears. It seemed to move through me, my frigid body almost twitching with every pulse, ready to lunge forward and crush his neck to my lips.

“What was your mother like?” He asked me suddenly, his voice soft. Edward turned from the window to face me, and I was bewildered by the intensity of his expression. His eyes were light and beautiful against the gloomy grey of the sky, and they squinted slightly as though studying my face like this information was absolutely essential. But this was not what stunned me, as I’d already seen the severity of this expression before in our ephemeral time together. It was the unexpected vulnerability of his stunning face. The more time I spent looking at him, the more I realized how beautiful this human boy really was. And it seemed a great tragedy for this beautiful boy to harbor such devastation in his eyes.

Whereas previously in his presence, my thoughts had become incoherent due to a lapse in control, now my thoughts were incoherent in distress and desperation to understand what had gone wrong and how I could fix it. I was momentarily dumbfounded, but I pulled myself together after the soft sound of a few droplets of rain against the roof reminded me that he was waiting for an answer.

“Well, she looked a lot like me, but prettier,” I began stupidly. He raised his eyebrows. “Or at least, she used to look a lot like me, and I used to look a lot like her. I don’t so much anymore.” It’d been so long since I’d really spoken about my mom, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I knew I should have made some comment about whether or not she looked like Esme or Emmett since our story made us siblings, but I didn’t want to taint the rarity of sharing who she was with a lie.

“She was more outgoing than I am,” I continued, thinking through the foggy memories I held onto from my human life.

“That’s difficult to believe,” Edward teased quietly, his lips curving into a half smile.

I laughed, listening to the melodic sound of it, thinking of how it symbolized how very much different I was now from the human girl my mother knew.

“I was always very shy,” I smiled, before speaking up again, caught in the echoes of my past. “She was brave and irresponsible and slightly eccentric. And she was a very unpredictable cook!”

I laughed aloud again thinking of some minor explosions in our tiny kitchen and some questionable dishes. Edward laughed too, but when our laughter faded into the falling of the rain, my smile faded.

“She wasn’t perfect,” I admitted. “I think I recognize now that she was very fallible. I worshipped her when I was younger, but when I think back, I do see how in some of the ways she raised me, I was done a disservice… I grew up too fast. When she died––“ I sighed, feeling insincere and guilty about perpetuating this lie when I really should have said when I died, “––Esme became more of a mother to me, and even Rosalie’s been more traditionally nurturing than my mom ever was… But still, she was my best friend.”

“You miss her,” he murmured simply. I met his gentle eyes.

“Yes,” I bit my lip.

“How old are you, Bella?” Edward asked. “And not the formulaic, theorized version where you were born in your thirties. How old are you really?”

I tensed, wondering if he was asking this again because he’d taken note of how I didn’t directly answer this question the last time he asked.

“Seventeen,” I answered automatically.

“You don’t seem seventeen,” he responded, reproachful.

The tension left my body at the tone of his voice. I smiled again easily.

“Sorry?” I asked, biting my lip to hide the smile, unsure of how to respond.

Edward chuckled and the subtle crinkles by his eyes lit up his face. “Well, I wish you’d been given a happier, normal childhood.”

“I’m fine,” I shrugged, brushing it off. “I hardly remember most of it, and what I do remember reminds me that I probably didn’t have much chance at a normal childhood to begin with. I was terribly shy, remember.

“I did do girl scouts, though….Oh, and ballet briefly,” I admitted, unsure as to why I was volunteering so much information about myself. Wasn’t the purpose of me sitting here to uncover information about him?

“Why does that make you… embarrassed?” Edward’s eyebrows pulled up.

For an odd moment, I felt betrayed by the flush of my cheeks before I realized there was no blood rushing to my face. I blinked, bewildered by the peculiarity of this long buried instinct to become frustrated with my easy blushes when I hadn’t blushed for years. I felt self conscious as I wondered what Edward saw reading my expression to so perfectly decipher my feelings.

“I was very uncoordinated,” I dismissed his question as I fought the urge for my hand to flutter to touch my cool cheek.

“Now that truly is difficult to believe,” Edward half-smiled. “I can’t imagine I’ve seen anyone as graceful as you.”

I laughed aloud at his compliment, though I didn’t doubt his sincerity. I knew this was true of myself. It was true of all of our kind to appear fluid and effortless, but still, no one had ever applied the word to me. My vampiric poise was irrelevant and unimpressive to my family, and the very few humans brave enough to overcome their nerves to compliment me typically found their words to fail them.

“You’re very odd,” I beamed.

“What do you mean?” The bronze-haired boy asked, again wanting to be let in on the secret. While I had an insatiable thirst, it seemed he had an insatiable curiosity.

“How old are you really? Your word choice is bizarre for someone your age, you know.”

“Oh,” he laughed easily. “Well, I’m actually not seventeen. I’m eighteen. But I’ll try to strictly adhere to a more teenage vernacular, so I can compliment you in a more acceptable way from now on.”

I looked out at the dim light of the brewing storm, my smile fading as I decided that I should probably allow him to escape me before I did something I’d regret. But I knew I wasn’t resolved enough to completely leave him alone. He made me monopolize too much of the conversation, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I knew about him yet.

I sighed aloud, and Edward, too, looked out at the rain darkened sky.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, making the assumption that our conversation was coming to an end.

“Yes,” I promised reluctantly. My eyes flickered back over to his pretty face, studying the lines of his strong jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, his full lips, committing this inconsequential face to memory as I silently resolved that this should be –– and would be –– one of the last times I’d allow myself to be this close to him. Tomorrow may well be the very last.

Likewise, as though his thoughts were in the same vein, his beautiful green eyes studied my face as well, though he did so in that mysterious way of his where he looked at me as though hoping to read my mind.

He sighed, then collected his backpack. Edward opened the door, stepping out into the bitterly cold weather. A shiver ran through his lanky body, making my body tense with perverse excitement. I cringed away from the deadly instinct and swallowed against the dryness of my yearning throat.

Edward’s tall, lean frame leaned down to peek into the car.

“Goodnight, Bella,” he spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Edward,” I almost whispered, gazing into the beauty of his dazzling green eyes.

Edward smiled his half smile, and closed the door, escaping into the building torrent of rain.

I gasped in relief at his absence, then stiffened realizing how the cab of the car was still heavily perfumed with his scent. I took in another deep breath, forcing myself to confront the burning thirst again, willing myself to manage it. I sighed as I hit the gas, making Edward disappear behind me.

Both my control and the rain pour strengthened significantly as I turned onto the long drive leading to my house. I grimaced as I wondered how I’d face my family and explain the complete reversal of what I’d promised to do. I didn’t have time to consider for much longer as suddenly, a figure appeared instantaneously in the drive. I slammed my foot on the brake immediately in shock at its appearance, not wanting to total yet another car against one of my siblings.

I peered through the windshield, unable to see through the complete downpour that submerged my vehicle as though it were underwater. It was annoying for my perfect sight to be obstructed by anything, rainwater or even the transparent windshield because of my eyes’ desire to focus on the microscopic scratches.

The car violently screeched against the muddy pavement, and it looked as though we would have to bid this car goodbye until the figure hidden by the storm placed their hands out on the car roughly and forced it to a stop. The tires screamed in protest, and the metal groaned as it warped into the shape of the palms. I listened as it unnaturally bent again in a piercing moan as the figure fixed the indentions they’d created.

My windshield wipers swatted away a flood of water. Finally, I could make out my sister Rosalie, her hair dripping wet down her back like a supermodel who’d just emerged from a pool on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Her exquisite face was absolutely furious.

I gulped, feeling like a child who’d just been discovered sneaking home past curfew.

I felt uncertain as to what to do and why she’d chosen to stop me here. Surely she could wait for us to be under the cover of the garage before she chastised me. Not wanting to be drenched by the rain, I revved the engine to ask her to move aside, but the car didn’t inch forward against her strength. Beginning to feel annoyed, I revved the engine again loudly and for longer, but still, she didn’t move.

“Rose,” I hissed as I hit the brake again so that the car could roar viciously in the storm, only to be cut off by the voice of my adopted mother.

“Girls!” I couldn’t see Esme through the obscured glass behind the downpour, but even with the barrage of the rain, I could hear her lithe steps run furiously to the front porch. “Please!”

Rose’s head snapped up to look in Esme’s direction before turning to glance unhappily back at me. She stepped aside, and I sped into the garage, parking the car hastily.

I exited immediately and went to expect the damage to the front of the hood. It was only a minuscule bend from having been pushed and prodded back and forth, and I was positive Rosalie could make it look like new, though why it had been necessary to punish the car was beyond me. It wasn’t even mine.

I wheeled around once I’d heard the near-silent steps of her run, a wave of anger making me forget my guilt.

“Are you insane?!” I demanded.

“I could ask the same of you, Bella!” Now free from the obscurity of the rain, I could see in perfect detail the stunning fury of her glorious face. Her golden hair had been darkened by the rain, and it was slicked back effortlessly, like a glittering waterfall down to the middle of her back. She looked like a wrathful god, but I couldn’t find it in my stubbornness to care about how valid her anger may be.

“Okay, but did you have to take it out on the car? What did it ever do to you! You couldn’t have waited another twenty seconds to confront me? Well, you have my attention now, Rosalie, so say whatever it is you want to say!”

“You’re just unbelievable, Bella!”

“He’s not going to say anything, Rose! We already talked about this yesterday. You heard Alice! He’s not a threat to you and Emmett, so I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally.”

“Exactly, Bella. I heard Alice. Which is precisely why I fail to understand as to why you wouldn’t understand why I’d take it so personally. After all these years of sisterhood, how can you not understand how I feel about this?”

I frowned, my forehead puckering, but still, I retained my anger. She huffed, continuing.

“If it was an inevitability, I’d understand. However, it hurts me deeply that you recognize the choice that you have. The choice that Edward has. And still, you’re willing to play with his mortality as though it were a game, when I never had that choice.”

I froze, the realization dawning on me that she was right. No matter the ways in which I tried to justify my actions or spin my intentions, she was right. Another part of my mind acknowledged that while I was aware of right and wrong, I wasn’t certain that what was right would be enough to keep me away anymore.

We stared each other down much like we had yesterday. Only today, rather than anger, her face was contorted in hurt, and mine was contorted in hopelessness.

“But… you found Emmett when he was still human…” I weakly protested, selfishly trying to highlight the irony, though I knew it was pointless as I wasn’t advocating for Edward to be changed either. That was too complicated a thought to wrap my mind around. But whatever may happen –– and I was still very much aware of the worst of possibilities –– I didn’t want my sister to hate me for it.

“He was dying, Bella,” Rosalie whispered. The anger on her face had completely faded, and in its place, pain marked her eyebrows, her full lips, her golden, sad eyes. In her sadness, she looked like a work of art, like one of those paintings of a weeping saint. “It’s not the same.”

I didn’t have a response to that, and I felt as though I was at an impasse, both with myself and with Rosalie. Because I knew the promises I’d made and broken, but I knew the promise I’d made to Edward today, and I had no willpower, no desire, and no intention to break that promise.

“You may not feel anything for him now,” Rosalie began, her eyes intently fierce as they bore into mine to warn me. Only this warning felt significantly more horrible than I’d imagined it may be, because it wasn’t made in anger, but in desperation and love. “But if Alice is right, you will. And it seems to me a horrible way to repay someone you love to steal their life, their future, their soul from them. You should leave him alone now while you still can, because once you love him… it’ll only hurt more one way or another. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your existence. I know I have.”

And with that, Rose turned, her face cold and sad, and she left the garage.

#equinoxjw #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight au #twilight fanfic #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight #edbella #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella fanfic

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elizabeth-demoke · 4 years

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Hi, could I get a matchup for any AU skelebro please?

I'm a girl with pale skin, freckles all over my body, and curly mid length ginger hair. I'm about 5’8, and a bit broad shouldered and sturdy. I wear glasses with a tortoiseshell brown frame and I have a gap in between my two front teeth.

I am an INFP. I love nature and the outdoors, and going hiking and exploring abandoned buildings and caves. I’m fascinated with theology and the occult. I can get hella excited when talking to friends and embarrass myself. I play video games a lot, mostly fantasy, roleplaying games, and strategy games.

I like music, but I suppose everyone does, to some extent. I'm a bit of a science but and I'm fascinated by biology and geology in particular. I would consider myself observant, but only with things that interest me. I'm absolute garbage with social cues, and I'm often confused and assume most others hate me. My friends say I'm outgoing and funny. I value my own individuality. I often use fantasy-based escapism as a coping mechanism. I'm a bit emotional and it doesn't take too much to make me cry. I have a tendency to get overstimulated in public.

I hope this is adequate! Thank you for your time!

Ayy we're both INFP 👌 also, sorry this took so long, I know you sent in another ask wondering about this. Sorry I worried you, I kinda forgot about it, thanks for reminding me!

I match you with Underswap Sans!

He loves you

Traces your freckles a lot, and loves to give skele-kisses to the places where they're most concentrated

Thinks your hair is really cute, and loves how it catches the light and looks so bright in the sun

You're actually taller than him by two inches

He's lowkey upset he's shorter than everybody he knows, except Chara, but that doesn't count since they're a kid

Thinks your glasses are really cute

Definitely joins you on hikes

You climb to the peak of Ebott together during a week long camping trip

He may be a little hesitant at first, but he'll happily join you in your cave adventures, as long as you're wearing proper safety gear

Definitely gonna try and convince you not to go in abandoned buildings, he's nervous about what, or rather, who could be in there

But will eventually end up coming with you because he doesn't want you getting hurt

He's caught you with his magic several times, wether you fell through the floor in an old building or slipped off an edge in a cave

Cue him freaking out and pausing in your adventure to give you a snuggle, you have to convince him you're fine and you should keep going

He's a bit better with social cues, and will casually tap you or put his hand on your shoulder if you've missed something

Absolutely refuses to let you believe anybody hates you, especially him

If you're feeling like this then he'll make you tea (or hot chocolate, if you prefer. Sorry, he doesn't keep any coffee in the house. If he did, Papyrus wouldn't sleep for days) and make you curl up on the couch with him to watch NTT

If you're up when he gets up in the morning (aka 4am) then he just sits across the table from you, half awake, drinking his morning tea with his cheek rested on his hand and his elbow on the table, smiling at you as you go on a tired rant about biology

Somewhat concerned when your ranting slowly shifts over to the occult but brushes it off since, if you're up before him, you're probably hella sleep deprived

He likes to take you to small cafes or parks and stuff, will try to keep away from areas with a lot of stuff going on

He's pretty emotional, but that tends to be more positive emotions. He actually has a tendency to hide his negative emotions, and he struggles sometimes because of that

That being said, as much as he knows it sucks to cry all the time, he's glad you're not hiding your emotions from him

Since you like strategy games, he'll ask you to test out any puzzles he makes

Finds roleplay interesting

He can't really get into any character other than himself, so he's not very good at it himself, but will love to hear your recap of your most recent session or a funny story that came of it

You two make the stupidest puns when you're both tired, and you swear you've never seen him laugh so much before

If ya wanna make puns without getting flicked on the forehead, do it when he's tired 👌

#undertale #undertale matchups #underswap sans #underswap sans matchup #underswap matchup #sans #undertale au #underswap

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mortuarybees · 5 years

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What books do you recommend me to read?

I’m not sure what your tastes are but I’ll tell you some of my favorites! To be quite honest, I mainly return to the same books over and over again so the list is rather short and I doubt I have anything to recommend that you won’t have heard of already. I’ll recommend my favorites. It consists mainly of my usual rotation of things i read over and over or books that left an impression on me and I refer back to them often.

When it comes to the non-fiction section just like….keep in mind that most academic texts have many, many problems and I’m not presenting any of the texts I list as The Quintessential Must Read Best Flawless Overview of a topic, I’m mainly listing the books I have found to be approachable and reasonable introductions to topics. Read everything critically, always (and that includes everything else on this list, not just the non-fiction).

Plays:

An Oresteia, translated by Anne Carson (Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, Sophocles’ Elektra, Euripides’ Orestes)

Iphigenia in Tauris by Euripides

I mean like. Shakespeare, obviously; my personal favorites are Hamlet, Twelfth Night, As You Like It, Julius Caesar, and Macbeth; recently, thanks to the productions starring David Tennant, Much Ado About Nothing and Richard II have been added to the list

Doctor Faustus, Edward II, and Dido by Christopher Marlowe

Antigone, particularly Anne Carson’s translation, and after you’ve read Antigone, I’d recommend reading Antigonick, but not before

Lysistrata by Aristophanes

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (I feel like Lady Windermere’s Fan is also kind of necessary reading and I do love it of course but I’ve only read it the once, for the sake of it, whereas I’ve come back to the Importance of Being Earnest a million times and the 2002 movie is one of the things I watch when I’m down)

Novels (and Epics)

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett if you haven’t yet, obviously

Maurice by E. M. Forster

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

VIRGINIA WOOLF. everything but particularly the Waves, Orlando, and Mrs. Dalloway. The Waves is my favorite, followed closely by Orlando, but I’d start with the Mrs. Dalloway because it gets you accustomed to Woolf’s writing style and the way she approaches her characters if you haven’t read her before.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (If you haven’t read it yet and you have seen 2005 P&P and love it and you’re opening the novel with the expectation that it’s similar to the 2005 film in tone and feel, you’ll be disappointed. If you’ve seen the 1995 miniseries, that reflects it very well. So just approach it with an open mind with 2005 on the back burner and you’ll find it an amazing and very repressed love story)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

The Iliad (the translation I own is Lombardo. It’s extremely approachable and colloquial and I enjoy it, and if you’ve never read the Iliad and you find it intimidating, I would very much recommend it, but my high opinion is not universal. Fagles and Lattimore are very popular translations and I like them both well enough)

I’m dying to get a copy of Emily Wilson’s Odyssey translation. I don’t love the Odyssey personally but I am a big fan of Wilson and from what I’ve read about her translation and what she’s said about it, if anything could make me enjoy the Odyssey, it would be that translation.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. I would personally recommend reading the Iliad first just because Miller takes…….liberties with it, but I also don’t think there’s a problem with that at all, so if you’re not interested in the Iliad, or you think tsoa would get you interested in it, there’s nothing at all wrong with reading it on its own or reading it first. I just think it’s a genuinely more enjoyable experience to read the Iliad first and then see what Miller does with it. And regardless of what order you read them in, if you read them both you will understand how very different tsoa and the Iliad are from one another and you will not be one of those people who talks about the Iliad when what they mean is tsoa. Again, there’s nothing wrong with tsoa, it’s one of my favorite novels, but it’s just a very separate thing and it gets just a little maddening.

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson. It’s both poetry and a novel but it’s got to go somewhere so

When I was 14 I got very into Les Mis and i will recommend it. I genuinely love it and it will always have a special place in my heart. I have read the entire brick only once however because as much as i love it. as much as i Relate to the infamous off-topic tangents. there is a limit to my patience.

The Epic of Gilgamesh is just like. extremely good. I really don’t know enough about it to recommend any specific translations; in high school I was given a stapled copy of the whole thing and I read that til I lost it and now if I want to reread it or refer back I just look it up online. I’m a fake fan.

Poetry

If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho translated by Anne Carson

The Beauty of the Husband by Anne Carson

Devotions, Felicity, and Winter Hours by Mary Oliver. Those are the anthologies that I have read and I adore them. I imagine that all of her anthologies are also amazing and all of them are on my to-read list. I don’t think you could possibly go wrong

I do not have the singular published collection of Elizabeth Siddal’s poetry (My Ladys Soul) but I have read all of her poetry and she is an amazing poet and I hold her very near and dear to my heart

Crush by Richard Siken

Useless Magic by Florence Welch……..yall knew what you came here for

Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake

Non-fiction and Essay Collections (again. None of these are recommended as the definitive, end all, be all, all-you-need book on any given subject, they’re just some of my favorites). I have limited myself to collection specifically because this is long enough already and if I start just adding essays it’ll never end. All of these were either purchased online for under $10, are available somewhere on the internet as pdfs, or were at my library, so if you look, you can probably find them somewhere (I say this bc while trying to find the authors of some of these I have been stunned by their retail prices and I’m assuring you, don’t be scared off by your initial search bc I sure as fuck did not pay $30):

Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution by Simon Schama

Marie Antoinette: the Journey by Antonia Fraser (controversial but well-researched and approachable and I love it. I would recommend reading like. almost anything else first because Fraser does obviously focus on Marie Antoinette and her life and experiences; and while she does talk about the revolution, it isn’t the focus of this biography, and you won’t understand why it was necessary if you don’t come to it with a good grasp on the broader events outside Marie Antoinette).

A Day with Marie Antoinette by Hélène Delalex

Robespierre: a Revolutionary Life and Liberty or Death: the French Revolution by Peter McPhee

The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L’Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution by C.L.R. James

If you’re at all interested in 18th century art, I recommend Rococo to Revolution:Major Trends in Eighteenth-Century Painting by Michael Levey

A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn is controversial. But it’s approachable and well-researched and if you don’t know a lot about American history, I recommend it highly (especially for Americans).

Eros, the Bittersweet by Anne Carson (okay literally everything by Anne Carson. All her essays, her poetry, her translations, her weird mashups, all of it. There are a few things I haven’t read yet but. I very much doubt you’re going to be able to go wrong, so just take what I’ve listed as my favorites)

This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate and the Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein

Black Against Empire: The History and Politics of the Black Panther Party by Joshua Bloom

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: and Other Lessons from the Crematory and From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death by Caitlin Doughty (also the illustrations by Landis Blair are absolutely phenomenal. Look at this. I love it so much I pulled it out of the book to hang in my momento mori corner because it’s so beautiful.)

The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan

Alexander of Macedon by Peter Green is. okay we have a love-hate relationship, me and this biography; me, and peter green, but I have major issues with every single Alexander biography I’ve read and this was the first so if you want to start somewhere, I guess go for it.

The Empathy Exams by Leslie Jamison

The Honey Bee by James L. Gould. It’s out of date in some respects but a good, simple introduction into honeybee biology and behavior

Before the Deluge: A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s by Otto Friedrich

Vanishing Bees: Science, Politics, and Honeybee Health by Sainath Suryanarayanan and Daniel Kleinman

Out of the Past: Gay and Lesbian History from 1869 to the Present by Neil Miller

Holy Madness by Adam Zamoyski isn’t by any means perfect, but it’s a alright introduction to the Age of Revolution. Just don’t let it be the only thing you read. It’s here because it has a special place in my heart as my introduction to it.

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

Erotic Exchanges: the World of Elite Prostitution in 18th Century Paris by Nina Kushner

Radical Love: Introduction to Queer Theology by Patrick S. Cheng

Our Lives Matter: A Womanist queer Theology by Pamela R. Lightsey

Our Native Bees: North America’s Endangered Pollinators and the Fight to Save Them by Paige Embry

At the Existentialist Café by Sarah Bakewell (I really do not know that much about philosophy or existentialism specifically or this subject generally, so I have no idea where the faults of this book are, but I really enjoyed reading it and it made me think a lot. I have a feeling it’s very simplified so take it with a grain of salt as I did?)

Walden by Henry David Thoreau (just. just. it’s enjoyable but don’t get too into it please for the love of God). My copy (and I think most copies?) includes his essay Civil Disobedience as well which is very good.

Never Caught: The Washingtons’ Relentless Pursuit of Their Runaway Slave by Ona Judge

The Uninhabitable Earth by David Wallace-Wells

The Diaries of Virginia Woolf: I’m currently in the midst of volume 2 (1920-1924). They’re very enjoyable, but they’re something of an undertaking as all diaries are if you aren’t already very familiar with the biography of the person in question, so like. If you find yourself moving slowly don’t worry about it.

Gay Berlin: Birthplace of a Modern Identity by Robert Beachy

To Be Broken and Tender: A Quaker Theology for Today by Margery Post Abbott

The New Jim Crow byMichelle Alexander

The Environmental Case: Translating Values into Policy by Judith A. Layzer is a textbook that was assigned to me in my Enviornmental Policy class last semester and I really fkcing enjoyed it. It’s a book of case studies in environmental policy and it’s dense at times, but really interesting and enjoyable.

The Second Amendment: a Biography by Michael Waldman

Michelangelo’s Notebooks: the Poetry, Letters, and Art of the Great Master by Carolyn Vaughan. Just like. Genuinely. Genuinely. unintentionally hilarious. but also sometimes very sad, and very gay. I just adore Michelangelo. Just a shy foul-tempered repressed disaster. Jesus Christ.

#my next read is going to be richard ellmann's biography of oscar wilde #i'm v excited #henry speaks #vocallsama

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racefortheironthrone · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on House of X#2

I fell way behind on writing these even as I devoured each issue, so I thought I might as well knock these off as the HoX/PoX miniseries come to an end and the “Dawn of X” looms over the horizon. (Also I did a re-read recently and it got my mind buzzing.)

So let’s get into it!

Moira’s Ten Lives:

It turns out that, like everyone else, I was sort of right/wrong about time travel shenanigans. It’s technically a semi-stable time loop, but I’m not about to quibble. (Incidentally, on a re-read one of the things that’s been really impressive to see with the benefit of hindsight is the way in which Hickman et al. top each issue with the newest high concept or reveal, like some mad plate-spinning act.)

Here’s how the individual lives break down:

Life 1:

Because everything in this life takes place prior to the activation of her mutant gene (which, talk about a hell of an additive retcon), Moira’s first life is a romanticized, bucolic portrait of innocence not corrupted by worldly knowledge. The emphasis is strongly on family and nature (note the tree motif, which isn’t as prominent as the tower motif but still) as opposed to scientific pursuits.

On the other hand, you definitely get the sense that the perfect nature of this life is a distortion caused by nostalgia, as we’ll see in the next life.

Life 2:

Moira reincarnates for the first time with full knowledge of her previous life, which for all that HoX/PoX has been analyzed through the lens of both Christian and Jewish theology, can’t help but draw from Hindu and Buddhist thought.

One key aspect of her power is that Moira is given an enormous developmental leg up, being born with all of the skills of a grown adult. Suprisingly, we don’t actually get to see Moira make much use of some of the broader implications of her mutant power.

As a good scientist, Moira uses observation and experimentation to prove to herself that her memories are real and that she can change the future through her actions, two critical pieces of information.

Speaking of Buddhism, Moira’s “curse” concept is tied to the Second Noble Truth, that suffering comes from attachment. In this case, Moira’s problem is an attachment to her memories of her idealized first life: when she meets Kenneth Cowan for the second time, the emotional connection isn’t there because her foreknowledge of her first life changes her perceptions.

At the same time, I wonder how much of her reaction to this upheaval is due to her realizing that her first life wasn’t as perfect as she thought it was (the flaws she focuses on), or that she herself has changed and isn’t content to live and die as a rural schoolteacher.

In this timeline, Charles decides to come out of the closet as a mutant on national television, which is a different tack to how he’s approached pro-mutant activism in the past, although there is a common theme of putting his faith in public debate. Sadly a faith that will be broken.

Despite her misgivings about her own mutant gifts, Moira decides to fly to America to meet Charles...and dies in a plane crash. I wonder how much of her heel turn in life 3 is due to the Kenneth Cowan issue and how much of it comes from her experiencing violent death for the first time?

Life 3:

In Moira’s third life, she turns sharply away from Charles (nicely symbolized by her turning away on a pub stool) to try to cure the mutant gene, which brings her face-to-mask with Destiny, who is the closest thing that this issue has to an antagonist (at least in the sense an outside force acting on Moira and changing her behavior).

The conversation between them is split in two: in the first, Destiny does a good job of laying out why narrative of individual choice/consumerism don’t really work with regard to mutant cures, because of pre-existing structures of power and inequality that will turn an option into a mandate. Something that Whedon’s “Gifted” arc and X3 should have maybe mentioned.

(Incidentally, even before we got the later infographic from Powers of X #4 about mutant genocides, I thought this didn’t bode well for Wanda Maximoff.)

After setting up a Prisoner’s Dilemma situation - if you don’t change your behavior, this scenario will keep recurring - Destiny then gives us the next big reveal of the issue. Moira’s powers of resurrection only give her ten or eleven lives, that there is a way out of the cycle of endless rebirth if she makes the “right choice.” (Word is still out on the other aspects of the Eightfold Path.) I don’t know what the eleventh signifies - after House of X #5, I saw a lot of people suggesting pod-rebirth as her eleventh life, but I dunno.

However, I did spot something this time: Destiny “see[s] ten lives...eleven if you make the right choice at the end.” This may be me reaching, but it suggests that Destiny knows already that Moira isn’t going to get it right in lives four through nine, but isn’t telling her. Which, given the immense potential involved in combining their powers, suggests that it’s not just about Rube Goldberging her way to the Good Ending but rather that Moira has to experience her defeats personally in order to grow into the person who would make the right choice.

Life 4:

Having received a fiery “swift spiritual kick to the head,” Moira makes two changes in her life. First, she begins to approach the question of mutancy from a systems perspective - although I have some significant issues with Hickman’s evolutionary biology. Second, she looks deeper past Charles Xavier’s “confidence...arrogance,” to see the real Charles beneath, and the two fall in love (which makes the second time in her lives).

The result seems to be the 616, breaking down into the Gifted Years (the Kirby/Lee years), the Time of Hate and Fear (the All-New X-Men given to us by Claremont et al.), and “the lost decade,” which given the associated panel is a pretty clear slam on the last ten years of X-Men storytelling, most pointedly Avengers vs. X-Men.

This page (p. 17) has made me somewhat out of step with a lot of folks who’ve been arguing online that Moira’s sixth life must be the 616 - a trend we’re going to see repeating.

Regardless, this timeline is the first to end with Sentinel genocide, resulting in Moira for the first time seeing the dystopian dilemma. Much of what follows is a series of unsuccessful iterative attempts to solve this dilemma.

Life 5:

In her first go, Moira decides to see if accelerating the process will work, showing Charles what happened to his dream in her past lives. Hickman’s use of the term “radicalized” is key here to understanding what’s going on with Krakoa in X^1, because as Moira learns (and Charles will learn), separatism alone will not do the trick. Mutants got an 11-year head start to build up their defenses, and the Sentinels came anyway.

Life 6:

Because this life remains completely redacted, the fandom has gone absolutely nuts in speculation. One common speculation I’ve seen is that the X^3 timeline is Life 6, which I find quite puzzling. The reveal in Powers of X #1 that Cylobel is stuck in Nimrod’s femtofluid database is strongly suggestive that X^3 is Life 9, unless we’re going to say that in alternate timelines in which so many variables change, there’s always going to be a black brain hound mutant who looks identical to Cylobel and who dies in the exact same way. Which strikes me as falling afoul of Occam’s Razor.

Life 7:

Here’s where we really start zeroing in on the dystopic dliemma, as Moira tries to forestall the inevitable by eliminating the Trask bloodline. It doesn’t work because of the whole idea that AI is a discovery not an invention, and as a result Sentinels will always come about and the only thing that can be changed is the name of the person who’ll discover them.

Here is where Hickman’s obsession with mechanical vs. biological transhumanism (and/or singularities) really come into play. If you’ve read his book Transhuman (which I don’t necessarily recommend, as it comes with some rather nasty sophomoric undercurrents that have aged very badly in the last ten years), you’ll know that Hickman considers biological transhumanism to be superior to the alternative. Something to keep in mind when thinking about mutants vs. the man-machine supremacy, mutants vs. the technarchy, etc.

Interestingly, we never learn what happened to Xavier or the X-Men in this life.

Once again, Moira is “radicalized” by the seeming inevitability of robotic genocide, although it’s noticeable that her focus is shifting from humans to their creations.

Life 8:

Her solution is to go to Octopusheim and ally with Magneto, presumably because the Master of Magnetism is her first bet to go up against the mutants.

Magneto reacts to “the good news” with thermonuclear war, and gets curb-stomped by a combination of the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and X-Men.

Important note that by this point, Moira dismisses the idea of any great good beyond that only of mutants, and we go for another round of radicalization.

Life 9:

At this point, Moira decides to ally with Apocalypse out of desperation, presumably because Apocalypse is a revolutionary who can’t be killed as easily as Magneto can.

Although we didn’t know it at the time, this is X^2 (and I think X^3) as well, and while Apocalypse’s power levels allow him to prosecute a war “without end,” it doesn’t solve the strategic stalemate.

Life 10:

I don’t know what the two black panels suggest; it’s quite possible that they’re just pauses for emphasis.

In her tenth life, Moira takes a step back and focuses instead on “all the old ways of thinking.” Here, I think we see a preview of the Krakoan solution: mutant unity will unlock synergies of cooperation that were not possible while working with limited mindsets and only a part of mutankind.

Notably, we don’t know when Moira or anyone else found out about the possibilities of Krakoa and mutant biotechnology - we know some of it existed in Life 9 because we see Krakoan flowers being used, but we don’t know if Moira encountered it earlier or whether the higher order stuff was in use. I somehow doubt the resurrection system was intact, because it would seem to make Mister Sinister’s breeding program largely irrelevant.

Once more, we return to Powers of X #1, as we now know what Xavier learned from Moira’s mind.

Infographics:

The whole circle wrap-around thing is very evocative of other signs we’ve seen (on Cerebro when Xavier uses it for various higher-order stuff, on the Librarian’s face, etc.), but it actively makes the map harder to read, which I think is the point.

(Also, while I’m complaining: Comixology is not well set up for these large-scale infographics, because it keeps crashing on me when I try to zoom in. Very annoying.)

Note: earlier lives are more leisurely, things more spaced out, and then the pace accelerates as things get more intense.

One interesting difference between Life 4 and 616 canon: Moira and Xavier marry when she’s 23 and establish the Xavier School 12 years later.

Life 5 is interesting, because we’re seeing repeated themes of Moira in comas, even when it might not be necessary. For example, what’s the dramatic purpose of having the two Sentinel attacks?

In Life 7, I noticed that Larry Trask isn’t killed with the rest of his family. Is it because he turned out to be a mutant?

Life 8 is the first instance where I think the initial panelling let us down. The original one-two punch heavily implied that Magneto was defeated on his first attack on Washington D.C, but here we learn that he ruled America for eight years before being defeated and killed. (Incidentally, this suggests that the visions he’ll have of his failures don’t include this life).

As other people have noted about Life 9, Xavier and Magneto are killed in Years 19 and 21 respectively, which makes it easy to rule out their appearances as happening in Life 9. Also, it’s significant that the first horsemen aren’t on earth (almost certainly on Arakko/No-Place).

Life 10 including Moira’s marriage to Joseph McTaggert despite presumably knowing from earlier lives that he would be abusive suggests that Moira may well have gone into the marriage because she needed Proteus to form the Five. Not sure how I feel about that. Finally, I’m a bit puzzled about what the schism was and whether it was genuine vs. feigned (after all, Moira is faking her death, so there’s plenty of skullduggery going on).

#xmen #xmen meta #house of x #hoxpox

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aliceslantern · 6 years

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Beyond this Existence, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 3

Summary: After Xehanort's death, Demyx finds himself unexpectedly human in Radiant Garden. With nothing but fragments of his past and a cryptic statement from Xemnas, he's left to figure out who he is. When Ienzo asks for his help with a project, the two find common ground, but the trauma and secrets in both of their pasts could tear it apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Older!Ienzo), KH3 canon-compliant

read it on FF.net/on AO3

The cut had stopped bleeding overnight, leaving a red, angry scab that cracked easily. Demyx woke up feeling absolutely exhausted. For a while he watched the silvery-blue petals of his little plant sway in the faint breeze, utterly at a loss for what to do.

He was going to have to deal with this sometime.

What was he going to do now?

No more Organization. No more obligations. But instead of feeling freed, mostly he felt… dangerously untethered. If he had Arpeggio it would be a completely different story. With it, he could write and compose and experiment to his heart’s content. But without it… he really wasn’t much of anything.

The slickness of anxiety caught in his throat again, but he choked it off. No. He was not going to break down again. He’d just have to… find someone to bother, something to do. Anything to escape this feeling.

I hate being human.

Demyx decided to explore the castle. Maybe he would feel better if he had a more solid grip of his surroundings. The place was huge, after all. Some of it had to be interesting. He thought of it like a recon mission. Maybe something would help him figure out how to get out of here.

But then where would he go? Home?

The thought sent a pulse of pain through his head. Where… was home?

His memories were muddy and indistinct, more of the same blurry colors he’d seen recurring in his dreams. Only this time there other people, four or five of them, men and women in colorful robes and animal masks--

-- legacy that sleeps within you--

He gasped and choked on spit.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

Why had Xemnas told them that, if only to go and die right afterwards?

He went to Even. In the lab, he was stooped over notes, flicking through brittle, yellowed pages every few seconds, his long blonde hair draping over the desk in front of him. Demyx knocked on the open door with his good hand.

“What do you want?” Even asked, barely looking up.

For a moment, Demyx nearly left. He didn’t have to tell Even about this. But Even had more facts. Even could help him see more clearly. He was about to wonder if understanding was something he did want when Even caught sight of his bandaged palm.

“What did you do to yourself now?”

“Last night, at the dinner party. Cut myself when I was doing dishes.”

Even stood and approached him. He unwrapped the purple cloth. “Right across your lifeline. Some cultures would consider that unlucky.”

Demyx reached to take the cloth back, but Even held onto it.

“This thing’s filthy. I might not have any magic, but I can at least provide adequate care.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a roll of cloth bandages and a jar of some sort of salve. He pulled on a rubber glove and rubbed the salve into the wound. It burned terrifically. Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, Even turned away. “Well, if that’s all you came for, would you do me a favor and leave me be? I’m in the middle of something important.”

Demyx felt anger rising in him, but he quashed it down. “That’s not why I came. Remember how you told me to keep track of my dreams?”

“My memory is very good.”

“They weren’t dreams at all. They were memories. But I don’t think they were his.” He exhaled. “They were mine.”

Even didn’t seem happy. “Oh. Is that all?”

He grit his teeth. And then he told Even about that day in the Keyblade graveyard, about Xemnas’s bombshell.

Even was silent for several seconds. “Are you… quite sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!”

More silence. Demyx could heard the analog clock on the desk ticking softly.

“That was… from the time of fairy tales. Many, many years ago. I had believed that was all legend… but then… well, if the X-blade has been forged again, who knows what else might be true?” He crossed his arms. “Biologically speaking, you’re barely in your twenties. If that were all true, then somehow you would be hundreds of years old.”

Cold, existential sweat gathered under his arms.

“And if that were the case, then--how did you get here? And why?”

“I don’t know.” He thought he might be sick. “I barely remember… everything’s gotten so fuzzy.”

“I don’t believe it,” Even said. “It must’ve been some sort of ploy… something to give you neophytes purpose… then again…” He came close to Demyx, seized a handful of his hair, and pulled.

He yelped in pain. “Hey! What are you--”

Even took the few blond strands he’d harvested and put them in a small sample bag. “You’ve piqued my curiosity. Sit down. I need blood.” He rummaged around in the cabinets and came back with a different box.

He hadn’t heard anything more threatening. “What--”

Even seized Demyx’s bad arm and rubbed a cold, wet prep pad against his elbow. “I need samples. I wonder if there’s any dating technique that could tell us more about this situation.”

“...Dating?” he asked.

“For your DNA,” Even said, exasperated, as though it were obvious. “And to see how your other cells might have been impacted by whatever means of preservation that brought you to current day. That is, if any of this is true and not some lotus flower Xehanort was feeding you. There must have been something. This is your original body, yes? I think I’d have remembered making a replica for you.”

“It better fucking be,” Demyx said. He flinched when Even stuck him with a needle, but didn’t fight it. As cunning and cruel Even could be, if he was interested he would do the utmost to figure it out. All Demyx had to do was comply.

He took six vials of blood in total, enough to make Demyx a bit woozy, considering he’d also lost a good amount last night. He took spit, nail clippings, cheek swabs, and some skin cells.

“I dearly hope this isn’t a waste of my time,” Even said. “But imagine the possibilities… and why you? Why not? I don’t pretend to understand Xehanort. Not at all. It’s an awful lot of effort for vessels he could have just made…” His voice grew softer and softer as he spoke to himself. “I’ve all I need. I let you know if there’s more. You may go.”

Dizzily, he went to the library. He knew the worlds had different time streams, but there was no way it had been hundreds of years since the first time he was human. Time streams were different, but not that different.

The library was so staggeringly full, each shelf crammed with more books than he could count, books in all different subjects; psychology, biology, chemistry, literature, multiple different languages, religion, theology, photography. The words started to blur together. He found the history section. Volumes and volumes about Radiant Garden, and some about a few other worlds that sounded familiar, but not much else. No lore. No legends.

“What is it that you’re looking for in here?” Ienzo asked. He was passing by the same section, carrying several books.

“I was trying to find something about the age of fairy tales,” Demyx said. “I want to know more about that time.”

Ienzo looked confused. “That sort of thing is oral history,” he said. “There are very, very few printed volumes that survive from that time. Ansem may be a collector of rare books, but even he could never get his hands on something like that. Why is it you ask?”

Demyx hesitated. He couldn’t even be sure what Xemnas had told him wasn’t a lie. Maybe he’d just completely made up those memories, or maybe they’d been planted when he was a vessel. He forced a laugh. “I was just bored, is all. Wanted to know more about what I just got myself out of.”

Ienzo nodded slowly. “It’s unfortunate, but a lot of history from that time is just… lost and shadowed in legend. Perhaps that’s why Xehanort was trying to recreate the Keyblade war. Perhaps he wanted to understand it for himself.”

“...Maybe,” Demyx said lamely.

“Ansem might know more,” Ienzo said. “He studied quite a bit of mythology when he began his experiments. I could ask him for you. I admit, I’ve never seen you become intellectually involved in anything.”

“I just want to know,” he said, a bit more sharply than intended.

Ienzo frowned. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m just…” Demyx exhaled. “Trying to figure things out. And I have no idea where to start. I don’t even have my sitar. I don’t really have much of anything. And I’m not meant to be here.”

He blinked. “Not… meant…?”

“Face it. I’m just here because you are all too nice to get rid of me. None of you even like me. I don’t share a past with you, and I’m not a scientist.” He was starting to get worked up again.

Ienzo seemed to be at a loss for words. “Do you really judge your own worth using others’ opinions?” he asked after a tense moment.

“Of course I do,” Demyx said. “How can you not?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you haven’t felt welcome.”

He shook his head. Tears pricked in his eyes and he blinked them back. “I have nowhere else to go,” he said. “I didn’t mean to dump this on you.” A strange emotion twisted inside of him. Words caught in his throat. He wanted, no, needed to talk to someone.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Ienzo said, but his voice was halting.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. I’m not your problem.” He tried to force a smile. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

The day passed in a sort of haze. He shifted from room to room in the castle, but the features and layout didn’t want to stick in his mind. His chest was hurting again, dully, and after awhile he realized the pain was anxiety. Demyx got himself spectacularly lost, and by the time he found his way back up to his room, it was time to eat. He heated some soup which sat in the old-fashioned fridge and picked at it.

He hated how quiet things felt.

He’d burnt out artistically a few times, awful weeks where he couldn’t compose anything worth listening to if his life depended on it. This felt just like that, but ten times worse. He felt as though he were… forgetting, somehow. He glanced down at the calluses on his left hand, partially obscured by bandages.

“There you are. I was hoping I’d see you around.” Ienzo had shed his coat, and the sweater beneath was a warm shade of gray. He held a sheaf of crumpled, yellowed, and brittle pages. “I asked Ansem about the age of fairy tales. He doesn’t have any texts, but after some digging, I found this. He doesn’t know I took it from his library. He’s been… somewhat unobservant lately.”

“What is it?” Demyx asked.

“I only saw the first page, so I’m not quite certain. Perhaps we may look at it together. Come to think of it, somebody should create some record of that time. We can’t repeat history a third time.” His voice was fast, excited.

“I smell a new project for you,” Demyx said.

“Yes. Perhaps. When I am done with my current research.” The joy in his expression drained, and he sat down across from Demyx.

“What's that?”

“...I'm… trying to help Sora,” Ienzo said.

“What’s wrong with him?” Demyx couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth; he had nothing but bad memories of Sora.

“He’s vanished. He overstretched his power… and disappeared from this world entirely. I'm hoping that something in our old research might help the guardians of light find him. I am not so sure. You can only meddle with the forces in this world so much before there are natural, irreversible consequences. The guardians are… naturally quite cut up about it. He and I had formed something of a rapport as well. As much as I wish for him to be whole… I don’t want to give myself false hope.”

“...Whoa,” he said, because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“There’s never a moment wasted in researching,” Ienzo said. “For all I know, there’s some clue in these papers. And I think you can help me.”

“Me?” he asked incredulously. “What happened to “I’ve never seen you intellectually interested in anything?””

“Have a look.” Ienzo shuffled the fragile papers towards Demyx and opened to the first page. “While my scientific education has been excellent, admittedly it is somewhat lacking in the arts. I only have the most basic skills when it comes to music theory. This… seems more up your alley.”

It was a full-length musical score. Demyx touched the papers. It was some of the most intricate composition works he had ever seen; the meters were odd, all over the place, somehow flowing coherently. Trills, flourishes, complicated dynamics--just looking at it made his heart race. The way the treble and bass clef mingled was so graceful.

Beneath there were lyrics in another language he couldn’t understand.

“They’re ancient runes. I’ve studied them a little. But I recognize the characters for “Keyblade”, and they’re in there.”

Demyx read the score, his fingers itching to hear it out loud.

“Perhaps you can help me?” Ienzo asked.

“I need an instrument,” he said. “It’s too complex to sing.”

“There’s an old piano in Ansem’s quarters. We can have Aeleus and Dilan move it to an empty study space. I’m sure it’ll need tuning.”

“I can do that.” Something about this score gave him hope. He wasn’t sure what. “I’m in.”

#beyond this existence #demyx #ienzo #zemyx #demyx/ienzo #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #post-kh3 canon compliant

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quakerjoe · 5 years

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Jesus was a practitioner of non-violence. So why do so many turn the words of the Prince of Peace into a call to arms? As an advocate for gun violence prevention efforts, I receive many emails, Facebook comments, and Tweets from those who make comments along the line of these:

God does give us the right to defend ourselves and our family and our communities. And Jesus did tell his diciples to sell some possessions and buy swords.

Sell your cloak & buy a sword. Look it up in the Bible. Guns have surpassed swords & cloaks ain't worth what they used to be worth, so modern updates are needed - for women too since they get to vote. Domestic violence? Stay armed & everyone stays polite.😎

Does God actually want an armed civilization? To start with, I’m in agreement with the National Council of Churches in Christ USA:

It is difficult to imagine that the One whose own Passion models the redemptive power of non-violence would look favorably on the violence of contemporary U.S. society. Present-day violence is made far worse than it otherwise would be by the prevalence of weapons on our streets.

The passage that is brought up so often in which Jesus asks his disciples to buy swords – Luke 22:36 – is one nearly always taken out of context. Here is the text:

He said to them, ‘But now, the one who has a purse must take it, and likewise a bag. And the one who has no sword must sell his cloak and buy one.

So, is Jesus pro-sword? The sword Jesus spoke of was most likely a tool, not a weapon. Even so, when only two were obtained, not enough to defend the disciples, Jesus declares two are enough.

Daniel Howell, a professor of biology and anatomy coordinator in the department of biology at Liberty University, thinks Jesus would want you to have a gun. He wrote in 2015:

It is sometimes claimed that Jesus never told his followers to arm themselves, but that is patently untrue. In Luke 22:36, Jesus told his disciples to buy themselves swords even if they had to sell their cloaks to afford them. Of course, the sword was the “arms” of their day, as the gun is for us today. The disciples possessed two swords and Peter used one of them to injure a man when Jesus was being arrested.

The logic of Professor Howell is a bit difficult to follow. He might teach at a Christian university – Jerry Falwell’s Christian university – but his exegesis of the text is very poor (worth remembering he teaches biology and not theology, I suppose). Guns are not the same as swords, try using a sword from the time of Jesus in a mass shooting, and to try and apply Jesus’ teaching here is nothing more than proof-texting.

In the story of Jesus’ betrayal at Gethsemane, one of the disciples does turn a weapon on those who come to arrest Jesus. Here is text in Luke that follows the oft-recited 22:36 verse:

47 While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; 48but Jesus said to him, ‘Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?’ 49When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, ‘Lord, should we strike with the sword?’ 50Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. 51But Jesus said, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched his ear and healed him.

Again, as is his custom, Jesus rebukes those that employ violence. Jesus believed that violence was cyclical and that in using violence against oppression we become the oppressor. Above, one of the comments made to me via Facebook argues that God would support a right to self-defense. I’ll not take issue with that. If my family were in danger, I would defend them. I also recognize that having a gun in a house dramatically increases the possibility someone in the home will become a victim of gun violence, through suicide, accident, or in a firefight.

God would forgive us, I am sure if we sought to protect our family from danger. Nonetheless, when Jesus was threatened with death and violence, he molded for us what God wanted: non-violence.

Walter Wink wrote:

There are good reasons for reluctance to champion nonviolence. The term itself is negative. It sounds like a not-doing, the putting of all one’s energy into avoiding something bad rather than throwing one’s total being into doing something good.

Passivity is not what Jesus taught. What he taught was counter-cultural, even today, and radical: what Wink calls a “third way of militant nonviolence.” The Civil Rights Movement in the United States, embodied by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (who once owned guns but later said “I was much more afraid in Montgomery when I had a gun in my house. When I decided that I couldn’t keep a gun, I came face-to-face with the question of death and I dealt with it. From that point on, I no longer needed a gun nor have I been afraid.”), practiced such non-violence, and there was nothing passive about that movement.

As a minister in the United Church of Christ, I try and emulate the life of Jesus (often poorly, I’ll admit). Jesus does not want us to put trust in guns; Jesus wants us to put faith in God. The well-armed society in the United States has led to what Jesus warned about: cycles of violence that seem never-ending. We must use the tools of our democracy to push legislation that values human life. I am convinced that the NRA, and other groups like them, value the profit of gun sales over the lives of school children, worshippers, or those just seeing a movie or shopping at the mall. There are many steps we can take, including banning assault weapons, to create a more peaceable society.

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a-woman-apart · 6 years

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Gratitude

The “season of gratitude” is upon us. I understand that the holiday Thanksgiving has terrible roots, and I am not trying to excuse any of that when I participate with it. For most of us- but especially for me- the holiday has another meaning entirely. We aren’t thanking God for the slaughter of our “enemies”, but we’re thankful for things like home, family, and friends. In my strict religious household, Thanksgiving was the only holiday that we really celebrated, and it was something that I could look forward to each year. The 2017 Thanksgiving to Christmas holiday season was the last holiday season that I got to spend with my dad before he died. Some of his siblings were able to visit around that time, as well as one friend of his that he had known since college.

Even though this will be my first Thanksgiving without my dad, it isn’t hard for me to find things to be grateful for. I am close with my immediate family, even if I feel the need to tread carefully with them sometimes regarding religious and political issues. We’ve not only been celebrating Christmas and Thanksgiving together, but we’ve also been sharing food and fun for all our birthdays (thanks to my wonderful sister-in-law). I have an associate degree under my belt, and I’m looking forward to continuing my education next year. My boyfriend is a constant source of emotional support for me. Thanks to my mom helping me financially, I don’t have to be burdened with finding new or additional work until 2019.

Despite all these wonderful things, I would be lying if I said that I haven’t struggled with my motivation and mood. I texted my sister-in-law and told her I wasn’t feeling well. I complained that I had slept for 14 hours last night, but still felt tired, and laid out a laundry list of things that were bothering me. I had overspent a little bit and was worried about money (yes, this is even with my mom having helped me out). I tried so hard to be happy but continued “slipping up”.

She first probed me on what might be wrong and suggested going to a movie or spending time with friends. Then she kindly chided me by saying that I should focus on gratitude, and stop worrying about things that I couldn’t control, things to which God says, “Let it go.” I don’t necessarily believe in divine intervention, but I could appreciate the spirit and wisdom of her words. She said to just believe that my needs would be met. It’s true that I cannot control the fact that my bank accounts are looking a little light these days, but I can have simple faith that I will be able to cut back and/or find a solution.

Her words reminded me of something said by Chris Boutte, of The Rewired Soul channel on YouTube. He said that the extent of his theology is that he simply “believes that things are going to work out.” He didn’t even say that his belief is grounded in the law of attraction, as it is for many people, but he did seem to imply that he believes in “karma”, or the idea that if you do good, good things will happen, and if you do bad then you can expect bad things. Either way, just having a simple hope in the future is so vital, whether you feel that it’s accurate scientifically or statistically, or not. There is so much that is out of our control, that it is just as easy to focus the mind on the good outcome as the bad one.

Of course, it is very frustrating to continuously war with the pessimistic side of my nature, so much so that I sometimes want to give up entirely. It’s worth noting that calling my depression merely a side effect of pessimism is inaccurate. This doesn’t change the fact that it feels like my own brain is working against me. I had been doing so well with my new medication (Effexor) but today I found myself dealing with suicidal thoughts again. They weren’t “strong”- if that’s an accurate descriptor- but they were sort of rumbling under the surface. There were thoughts like:

“If it’s this much work to be happy, is it really worth it?”

“You’ve been volunteering, using your coping skills, taking walks in the sunshine, and taking new medication, and you still aren’t ‘over’ this yet. Will you ever be?”

“Just look at yourself- still can’t get over your depression. Is life worth living if it isn’t the life you want?”

“Look how tired you are. You’ll never make it through next week.”

I could keep going. It just feels like I’ve been coming up against a brick wall.

I tried to refer to Johann Hari’s book, “Lost Connections.” In the book, he talks about taking antidepressants for over 13 years. During that time, he would experience relief from his depression, but it wouldn’t last. His symptoms would return, and they would increase his dose, and each time the cycle would repeat. In the meantime, he kept gaining weight, he was sweating more and more, and his heart would race. If his depression was just a result of a chemical imbalance in his brain, then why weren’t the drugs working? He finally decided that he would devote himself to investigating the “real” causes of depression.

Johann came up with 9 causes of depression, and all the causes except 8 and 9 had to do with the environment, not solely with the brain or biology. He cited things like lack of meaningful work, lack of meaningful values, poor expectations for the future, unresolved childhood trauma, and lack of connection with other people and nature as some of the causes. It is true that when we experience these things, our brains react in response, but the source is outside, not inside. Even when we do have a genetic predisposition to addiction, depression, or anxiety, those genes are often not activated unless something in the environment triggers them.

These reasons explain why so many- though not all- people respond to antidepressants like Johann Hari did if they are treated only with antidepressants and nothing in their lives changes. They either must continuously increase their dose like he did, or like me, must change medications periodically because the original meds stop working. Note, he did not explore the efficacy of antipsychotics or mood stabilizers, so as far as I know those drugs may have better benefits. I know that I have not had mania or major depression since being on lithium, but my anxiety and dysthymia have persisted for years. Chronic low energy and mood have been an unending struggle.

So, if my problem isn’t just chemicals in my brain being too low or out of sync, then what is the problem? As I went through the list, “Lack of meaningful work” and “Disconnection from a Hopeful Future” kept jumping out at me. I love my job, and it is the most convenient job for me to have while trying to go to school, but I have been there almost 4 years and am dying to do something different. I even wouldn’t mind working at another library. I just want a change of scenery or pace. I am thinking of applying for a new job within the same library that pays a little bit more, but honestly, I would rather just go somewhere new.

It isn’t even that the work isn’t challenging enough or that mere boredom is stopping me. I have plenty of tasks to do most of the time. I just designed new brochures, I do some of the displays every month, and I’m still learning new things. Somehow, though, it’s gotten monotonous, and maybe I should stop trying to apologize for feeling that way about it.

The “Disconnection from a Hopeful Future” thing is also rolled into it, but it also doesn’t make sense to me. I have a hopeful future. I am going back to school in the spring, and that will set me on my way to start getting my bachelor’s degree. Ideally, once I have that I’ll be able to get a better job, start making more money, and finally move in with my boyfriend (if we’re still together then). We could even get a nice place together.

Somehow though, my current situation drains me of hope. I feel stuck when I think of 2+ years of working at this same library and commuting to and from classes every day. Even when I zoom in a little bit closer to now, I think of still having to depend on my mom for the next 2.5 months until I can go back to school and get my financial aid refund, and it fills me with dread. I don’t know why I feel so bad about leaning on her, but I do. Even with her help- and the raise I got from my job- I still won’t have a whole lot of money for extra expenditures. That means I can’t get gifts for everyone like I got them last year. My sister-in-law did point out that it’s not about the gifts, and my family never really celebrated Christmas, so I don’t think they’ll really miss them. It just felt nice to do that for them, so not being able to now feels sad.

Even as I write this, I find myself being drawn to the negative. I want to instead pull the post back in the positive direction. Sure, I don’t have a lot of money for gifts, but my older brother and my sister-in-law have invited me to come over to their house for Christmas. It is our tradition to stay up into the early morning putting together toys for the children. It started with my nephew but now that my niece is 1 year old, I believe that toys for her will be included. That already is something to look forward to. Sooner than that still, my mom’s sister is coming in to town and we will all be spending Thanksgiving together. My own sisters cook various tasty dishes, including a delicious mushroom stuffing that my youngest sister makes. The last thing I want to do is take what should be a beautiful family holiday and turn it into a crisis, and that is exactly what I would be doing if I let these dark thoughts take over my life.

Maybe it feels like I am trapped in a routine, but I’m not. Maybe when I need to take days off work because of my health, it seems like a failure, but it isn’t. I can only control how I am today. I can’t guarantee that I will feel good tomorrow. I can’t guarantee that I will even have a tomorrow. All I can do is be mindful and focus on the present.

Because of The Rewired Soul, and a chapter in Johann Hari’s book, I do want to practice mindfulness and meditation a little bit more. Mindfulness is about just learning to bring your mind back to the present, to really be aware of your surroundings and to exist in the moment. Meditation has been proven to genuinely change your brain chemistry and the way that you think, shifting your focus from negative emotions like jealousy, anger and self-pity and putting you into a more open, compassionate, and joyful state of mind. As everything else that he listed, this is only part of a bigger practice of health and wellness.

I do not know where you’re at this holiday season. Maybe the holidays are a source of pain for you, and I can understand why that might be. Maybe you feel like a hopeful future feels far-off and impossible to get to. Maybe you feel discouraged and alone. I can’t really offer a whole lot of assurance for you, because I’m often in the same boat. All I know is that you must keep breathing, and you must treat every day like it is a new day filled with opportunity. This is hard to do when you’re living paycheck to paycheck, or if you or someone you love is sick, you are struggling to make it through school, and/or you’re working at a job that has little meaning for you. Saying to “hang in there” seems like an empty platitude, but if you think about the alternative, it isn’t great. I say this as much for me as for anybody else- giving up will get you nowhere. There’s always something to be thankful for, however small, and it is the small joys in life- not this big impossible feeling of “having arrived”- that are dependable and can help to pull us through.

#thanksgiving #holidays #loved ones #grief #depression #anxiety #schizoaffective disorder #bipolar disorder #gratitude #giving thanks #struggling #therewiredsoul #chris boutte #johann hari #lost connections #lost connections book

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vonibluesshop · 2 years

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Womens Rights T-Shirts always available but definitely available now. Let your voice be heard. #prochoice

#pro choice #roe versus wade #abortion #womens rights #protest shirts #teepublic #sale

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thfrustration · 7 years

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Theology for Beginners follow-up: You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow (part 1)

TITLE OF STORY: You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 1 of 2 AUTHOR: missviolethunter / missviolethunterwrites WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki GENRE: Romance, Drama FIC SUMMARY: Loki and his Midgardian wife Leah are awaiting the day of their baby’s birth, but some business with a troll may be giving Loki a bit of trouble on a very delicate moment. This is the final installment (for now, only for now) of the adventures of Loki and Leah. RATING: T WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Mention of hunting animals for food. FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Link to the main Theology for Beginners story

YOU’RE GONNA LOVE TOMORROW

You’re gonna love tomorrow. You’re gonna be with me. You’re gonna love tomorrow, I’m giving you my personal guarantee. Say toodle-oo to sorrow, And fare thee well, ennui. You’re gonna love tomorrow As long as your tomorrow is spent with me.

— Stephen Sondheim, Follies

Part 1: In Praise of Women

“Oh, fuck!”

Up until the moment he’d heard the expletive, Loki had been taking a well-deserved nap. Deserved because he had (in his own opinion) behaved like a saint during the last few weeks. And definitely needed, because Leah had been keeping him awake at night for several nights in a row.

Like all intelligent men, Loki was patient. True, Leah’s pregnancy was a test to his patience some days, but he endured it out of love. Because he loved his wife, more than he had ever thought he could love a mortal woman… or any woman, mortal or not. He wanted her more every day, watching in fascination how her body changed, week after week. The extra weight and roundness of her body made him endlessly curious, without reducing his desire for her.

Sex wasn’t a problem. It had been the exact opposite of a problem since the early days of their relationship, and Leah’s pregnancy had not altered their night activities. The mechanics of sex had gotten difficult in the last month or so, because her increasing size limited the number of positions that were practical for both of them, but Loki always found a way for his wife to be comfortable… usually employing an inordinate amount of pillows. Besides, making love was one of the few things that helped her sleep at night when she was restless and fidgety, and thanks to that their marital life was made in the proverbial heaven.

No, the source of Loki’s lack of sleep was – always according to Leah – Loki’s fault. Or, to be more precise, his biology’s fault. His Frost Giant heritage, the part of himself he had fought so hard to repress for so many years, was making an unexpected return in the shape of the little creature that Leah was carrying inside, the little unnamed baby who was making a mess of their mother’s body temperature. She complained about the cold when the brazier was burning, tossed away all the blankets in the middle of the chilliest nights, started shivering or sweating for no reason… and Loki grew worried and restless day after day, because if Leah wasn’t able to sleep he didn’t allow himself to do it either.

That was why he was trying to take a nap right before noon, and why he jumped off the bed to the sound of a swear word and the smell of smoke across the room.

Still half asleep, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing: his heavily pregnant wife, standing beside the fireplace and patting at the skirt of her gown with a wet cloth, because apparently that’s where the burning smell came from.

Loki leaped from the bed and hurried to her side, trying not to smile.

“Again, my love?”

“Don’t you ‘again’ me, Loki. You know it’s hard for me to control this.”

“I asked Frigga to provide us with a fireplace so you would feel comfortable in this cell, but she won’t be happy if you set yourself on fire with it.”

Leah made a face at her husband and walked to the full-length mirror beside the bed to check the state of her clothes.

“Shit, another ruined dress”, she said, looking at the scorched mark on the black fabric.

Loki hugged her from behind, trying to keep her spirits up.

“You will have to abandon that language when the child arrives, my love. And it’s not your gown I am worried about, but your health. How do you feel?”

“Like an elephant, huge and clumsy. No, forget the elephant; a whale would be more accurate. I’m only twenty-six weeks along! How can I be this big?”

“Adis said your size was normal, and as a midwife she knows a thing or two about expecting women.”

She turned to face him and pouted. “Normal! I can’t sleep at night, I’m constantly craving foods that you don’t have in Asgard, and now my body temperature is all messed up again. Yesterday I burnt my tongue with the tea because I didn’t realize it was scalding, the teacup felt cold in my hand. How is that normal? And I know you’re scared that I will sleepwalk into the fireplace and set fire to myself. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Lovely Leah, you are much too clever for that”, he laughed. “And speaking of your cravings, I already asked my mother to get you some of that black chocolate you asked for.”

“Swiss chocolate? The one with cranberries in it?” she asked, hopeful.

“The same. My mother would do anything to make your life easier until the child is born.”

“And that’s another thing I hate: not knowing when it’s going to happen. If this was a fully human baby I would still have three more months to go, but I don’t think I’ll last that long without going insane!”

“I am sure it will be sooner than that”, Loki said, holding the agitated woman in his arms. He had lowered his voice to a low, soothing tone, and his mouth brushed Leah’s lips. Softly at first, and then in a persistent kiss.

She held on to his shoulders, moaning.

“If you’re trying to make me feel all hot and bothered, congratulations.”

“I always get what I want, woman.” Loki’s lips curled into a playful grin. “And what I want now more than anything is your happiness. And a healthy child.”

“What happened to ruling over Asgard? It’s gone down a few positions on the list, apparently.”

With infinite care, he placed his long hands on Leah’s belly, feeling her baby bump through the layers of clothes.

“Our child can rule over Asgard one day. Or any other realm he chooses, I will secure it for him.”

“Or her. Remember, Junior can be a girl. I dreamt it was a girl the other day.”

“Even better. An almighty Queen who will bow to no one.”

Leah laughed, putting her hands over his. “I think the reason the baby won’t come out is because of all those plans you’re making. Meanwhile, I feel like a broken thermostat.”

“If he’s half as stubborn as his mother, I expect no less. And he will be perfectly fine unless you let all those worries make you sick. It is all in your head.”

“You had zero complaints about my head last night”, she said in a sultry whisper.

“Minx. If we were not expecting company I would tell you exactly what I think of–”

A discreet cough interrupted their conversation. Adis, the Asgardian midwife, had been standing outside the cell’s transparent wall for a while, but she didn’t ask the Einherjar to lower the force field until Loki and Leah had acknowledged her presence.

“Good day to both of you. I came as soon as I got your message, my lady, I am here to check on you and the little one. How are we feeling today?” she asked with her perennial kind voice.

“Tired, worried, hot, cold, overexcited, sleepy and restless. Oh, and I just got too close to the fire again; didn’t you smell smoke? That was my dress, almost catching fire.”

“Everything normal, then. You are almost there, you know. I was not entirely sure of how long the pregnancy would last, but those hot and cold flashes indicate that your baby’s physiology is asserting itself. It will be any day now.”

“Good. It feels like I’ve been pregnant for years, and I’m so big that I’m almost afraid of moving without hitting something.”

Adis’s face went unexpectedly serious.

“That is the other reason why I am here. Queen Frigga has put me in charge of helping you move to Prince Loki’s old rooms, up in the palace, until the child is born. The Allfather thinks it’s not fitting for a lady of the realm to give birth to a future member of the Royal family in a cell. You will be more comfortable there; the queen will be able to visit you every day, and keep you company until–”

“No”, interrupted Leah.

“My lady?”

“I’m not going anywhere without Loki, and I suppose Frigga’s invitation doesn’t include him. I’m staying here, and if Odin wants his grandson to be born under a golden roof, he can free my husband anytime he wants.”

Loki and his former nursemaid looked at each other without saying anything. Leah’s stubborn (almost pigheaded) character and fierce loyalty to her husband was widely known, and that was the answer they both had feared. Loki went to sit beside Leah who, feeling a bit outnumbered, had taken refuge on the bed.

“Leah, it will be for the best if you follow Frigga’s advice.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. That’s what we agreed on when I came here.”

“And it honors you. However, I am not partial to the idea of having you give birth in this place, away from my mother and from the healers’ rooms. If something went wrong you will need their help.”

Leah’s lip quivered. “But…”

“Remember I have ways of being there without being physically present”, Loki whispered. “I know you hate being told what to do, but this time my opinion stands. You will go with Adis to my old rooms until the child is born.”

Leah closed her eyes and groaned.

“My love, this is not the moment to be dramatic and make a scene. When the child has arrived, you have my permission to scream at me for a full day, if you want.”

“It’s not that”, she said. “It’s… my back, suddenly it hurts like a bitch.”

The midwife hurried to Leah’s side. “Your lower back? A piercing pain?”

“Yes. It’s the second time today… it happened early this morning, and then it went away. That’s why I sent you that message, to make sure everything was alright.”

“More than alright”, said the older woman with a smile. But we need to get moving, my lady. You are having a contraction. It’s started.”

The midwife’s announcement brought a sudden silence to the room.

Leah opened her mouth and closed it again, torn between her reluctance to leave her husband and her common sense, which indicated that she should go and give birth in a more convenient place. Loki was the one who finally spoke:

“Is it really time, Adis? Not too soon?”

“Alas, children are always unpredictable, and a child as… special as yours is not going to adhere to any pregnancy calendar.” She patted Leah’s hand, reassuring her. “But I can still see with my own eyes, and what I see is that you are carrying a big, healthy baby who wants to be born as soon as possible. The rest will sort itself out like it does for every mother. Now, I will help you prepare a basket with your things.”

“There’s an empty one under the bed. I have to get a change of clothes… and the baby’s clothes, and I have a list somewhere of all the things you told me I’ll need. Do we need to go right now?”

“As soon as you are packed”, answered the older woman, grabbing the basket from under the bed and making her way to Leah’s closet, which she opened with little ceremony, picking and discarding clothes from the shelves. “We would be risking a very uncomfortable move if we wait, child. You do not want to cross the palace and climb all those stairs when your contractions are a few minutes apart. There is no time for you to change clothes, this cloak will do. Put it on and–”

Adis raised her head and listened intently. Someone was hurrying down the prison corridor, faster than any underpaid soldier would run; Leah held on to Loki’s hand, worried. The steps got closer and closer to the cell, finally revealing a very agitated (and almost out of breath) Fandral. He exchanged a few brisk words with the sergeant of the Einherjar, showed him a piece of parchment and then turned some sort of lock outside the door.

The force field dropped and stayed off, but nobody on either side moved.

“Fandral. If this is a rescue, I have to say it is both clumsy and very ill-timed��, Loki spat.

The blond warrior laughed. “I’m afraid my errand is of a different nature, my friend. Thor has sent me here to ask for your help, on behalf of your brother, of the Allfather and maybe of the entire realm.”

“Help?” interrupted Leah. “After they locked him here and lost the key? Thor has some fucking nerve asking for help… or maybe not, since he sent you to do his dirty work.”

Fandral smiled at Leah and bowed, ignoring her crass language. “My lady Leah, I volunteered for the errand. If this was about Thor’s personal matters with Loki I would have told him to sort it out himself, but I’m afraid this problem is much more urgent and dangerous than a brother’s quarrel.”

“How dangerous?” asked Loki.

“How many times have you encountered a troll in battle?”

Loki frowned. “Only once. Years ago, when Thor and I went to Nornheim to rescue a group of ambushed soldiers. A tribe of Dark Elves had escaped from their realm had allied themselves with the native trolls; we defeated them at great cost and barely made it back to Asgard alive.”

“Well, someone has seen a very wild and aggressive troll this morning, here in Asgard. It attacked two lumberjacks who were working in the Myrkviðr forest, near the western farms. Fortunately the men are more frightened than hurt, but the next time we may not be that lucky.”

“That forest is only three miles away from here.”

“And now you know why we need your help, and quick.”

Loki sighed and turned to speak to Leah, who had listened to Fandral’s story with an incredulous expression, as if the man had been speaking Chinese.

“Now it has become absolutely necessary that you go with Adis at once, my love. This is important, and I will not leave you here alone.”

“But Loki, what’s all that talk about… trolls? I thought they didn’t exist! At least on Earth, they exist only in fairy tales.”

“All tales have a smidge of truth in them. Yes, they exist, and they’re some of the most dangerous creatures I’ve ever encountered. But don’t worry, if there’s only one of them we will defeat it.” He stepped close to the cell’s entrance, just in front of Fandral. “I will need my armor.”

“Done.”

“And my knives.”

The blond man raised an eyebrow, dubious. “Thor will never allow it.”

“Trolls are impervious to magic. My knives or nothing.”

“Fine, I will smuggle a few of them out of the armory for you. But we need to leave at once, Loki. If the night falls and there’s a troll on the loose near those farms…”

Loki raised a hand, bidding the other man silence, and returned beside Leah for a moment. He put a hand on her cheek, as delicately as he could.

“I will be back in a few hours, my love”, he whispered. “Adis and my mother will take care of you. Be brave.”

“I thought when the baby came you would be by my side, not away fighting some… mythological monster. Loki, I’m really scared”, she said, failing to keep the panic out of her voice. “Don’t you dare getting killed and not coming back, do you hear me?”

“Duly noted”, he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “And now, won’t you send a warrior to battle with a kiss, woman?”

Leah looked around her to check that Adis and Fandral were not peeking, and then threw her arms around Loki’s neck.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The Myrkviðr forest was a vast extension of trees not far from the city. A quite convenient place for the Asgardians to get their firewood, and also the home of a large population of wolves, deer, foxes, birds… the usual fauna in any forest across the Nine Realms.

There were no animals in sight that day, though. As the three men crossed the stone bridge that separated the forest from the farmlands, all they could hear around them was a deadly silence. No birds chirping, no rabbits running, not even the buzzing of a bee. It was as if the entire forest had gone into hiding in fear of the trollish creature.

“This will be easy”, affirmed Thor, with Mjolnir in one hand and a heavy sword in the other. “We go in, you two attract the monster towards us, I slay it, and we’ll all be back home by dusk so Loki can be present when my nephew arrives.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “If it’s so simple, why are you keeping me away from my wife, precisely today?”

“I need your illusions to distract the monster, brother. You will have no trouble; they say trolls are tremendously stupid.”

“Many people of my acquaintance are tremendously stupid, present company included. That doesn’t mean I run around wasting my magic on them.”

Fandral interrupted him with an exaggerated (and fake) cough.

“As self-proclaimed keeper of the peace between you two, I must ask you to stop before you start fighting each other like always. Now, that place over there must be the clearing where the woodsmen were surprised by the beast, so if we cross that brook we will be right in its territory. Let’s try not to make any noise.”

The brothers nodded. Loki kneeled beside the little river, examining the mud for footprints; he found none, and they all waded the shallow water. Just as they reached the other side, Loki stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong? Did you see it?”

“Shhh. No, but someone – someone wearing boots – has trampled all over those bushes. Let me see.”

He surveyed the ground and the surrounding plants. It was already the middle of the afternoon, and the light was dwindling. After a moment, he emerged from the bushes, holding a wooden object in his hand.

“I have been away from Asgard for quite a while, but all my life I remember lumberjacks carrying axes to work, not crossbows.”

And a crossbow it was, an expensive one made of fine olive wood with silver and mother-of-pearl engravings. Loki examined it carefully and went back to the place where he had found it; a further search revealed a brown leather bag, full of bolts.

“That is not a peasant’s weapon”, observed Thor.

“Someone must have wanted a troll’s head in their trophy wall, and they ran into more trouble than they expected”, said Loki in a pointed tone. “When we get back, maybe you should exchange a word or two with those ‘woodsmen’… for all we know, the troll could have been pacific, and they were the ones harassing it.”

“A pacific troll”, laughed Thor. “And then what, carnivorous sheep? Brother, I fear your time in captivity has done things to your mind.”

“And I fear your lack of imagination has made you even duller than you already were. Didn’t your Midgardian wench teach you anything about keeping an open mind?”

“Peace, again, or I’ll bang both your heads against a tree!” interrupted Fandral, stepping in the middle of the Odinson brothers. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to two adult men, but… do not make me tell Queen Frigga.”

That put a temporary end to the hostilities, and the three men kept advancing thorough the forest. A bit further away they got to the foot of a grassy hill, where a group of big rocks on one side encased what looked like the entrance of a cave.

Nobody spoke, but Fandral drew his sword, and Thor made sure Mjolnir was still attached to his belt (it always was, but he had picked up that nervous habit during the time he’d been exiled on Midgard). Loki, who had no intention of letting go of his newly acquired crossbow, ran his fingers over the engravings on the weapon. Just as they were going to approach the entrance of the cave, they heard a noise… right behind them.

It was a troll, all right. A giant one, if Loki remembered correctly his visit to Nornheim many years before. At least eight foot tall, its grayish body covered in what seemed the furs of some animal, and adorned with a necklace made of bones and seashells. That little concession to civilization didn’t make it seem any less scary, especially when it let out a growl that would have chilled the blood of the most battle-scarred Asgardian warriors.

Thor grabbed Mjolnir and took a step towards the roaring creature, but Loki stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Brother, let me through or I will step over you.”

“Don’t move, you idiot!” said Loki in a shouting whisper. “The troll is looking at the cave, not at us. We are in its way, but I’m not sure it wants to hurt us.”

“Do you speak troll now? Maybe you can ask it if it’s enjoying its holidays in our beautiful realm!”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Fine, allow me to try one thing. If it doesn’t work, you can go ahead and charge like a brute, like you always do.”

Thor nodded and made a sign to Fandral, who was in the rearguard covering their backs. They both stepped aside, slowly retreating behind a group of trees.

Loki left the crossbow on the ground and raised his hands slowly, letting the creature see that he was unarmed. (He wasn’t. Apart from the two knives Fandral had stolen from the armory for him, he had three others hidden in his clothes. A routine safety measure, so to speak.).

“What is it you want in that cave? You are a forest troll, your kind does not like caves. Why is it so important for you to get in there?”

The troll grunted. It was looking at Loki intently, as if it understood what he was saying.

Step by step, Loki walked out of the creature’s way, not getting his eyes off it. There was a tense moment when Loki and the beast were less than two yards away, and he couldn’t help reaching inside his armor and grabbing the handle of a knife… just to be safe. However, the troll wasn’t paying any attention to him. It stopped at the entrance of the cave and let out a long wail, like a call. Then it disappeared into the dark.

“Well, that’s something one does not see every day”, said Fandral, relieved. “Did we manage to trap it inside the cave… or are we the ones trapped outside?

Loki looked pensive for a moment. “I think I am starting to realize what happened. That cave must be connected to the larger ones on the other side of the hill. There are passages between the realms there, but the terrain is unstable and dangerous. I tried to explore them once when I was a kid, and I almost fell down a gorge.”

“And that’s how it arrived?” asked Thor. “Then why didn’t it leave again, through the same passage?”

“The way may be blocked. Or maybe the troll is injured, there was blood on one of its legs”, observed Fandral. “Dried blood, so it has been here at least for a day.”

Thor turned towards Loki, who had recovered the crossbow and was attaching it to his back.

“You are very quiet all of a sudden, Loki. What’s on your mind?”

“I think there’s something in that cave that the troll didn’t want us to see, that’s why it was so agitated.”

“Something more important than the creature’s instinct to fight us?” asked Thor.

“This creature’s instincts may be different from the trolls we’ve fought in the past, brother.”

“I didn’t see any difference, except that this one is bigger than any other I’ve seen.”

“Exactly. Because our troll is a female.”

Thor made a face. “There are female trolls? And they are bigger than the males? I thought…”

“Did you really believe they’re born out of rocks? Even you are too clever to pay heed to those old wives’ tales, Thor.”

The blond Asgardian pictured the troll in his mind… and, now that Loki had mentioned, there had been a hint of feminine shape behind the furs, the matted hair and the nasty smell.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Fandral. “My usual way of dealing with ladies is to seduce them, but I’m not volunteering to do that with this one, lovely as she may be in troll standards.”

“I have an idea”, said Loki. “One that fortunately doesn’t involve me having to witness your deplorable flirting skills. Thor, have we brought any food?”

“I did not think we would stop for a picnic.”

“Very funny. In that case, I need you to go and hunt a rabbit.”

Meanwhile, back at the palace, Leah was busy regaining her breath.

“I think… oh, God… I think that’s it. Can I sit down now?” she asked Frigga, who was walking beside her up and down the vast bedroom.

The queen exchanged a glance with Adis, who was busy making tea on an kettle over the fire.

“Good job, child”, answered the midwife. “Your contractions are still widely spaced, you have plenty of time to rest before the next one. Come sit and have some of this tea, it will help with the pain.”

Almost out of breath, Leah let herself fall on a rocking chair. Frigga sat on a low bench, always by her side like she had been for the past couple of hours.

Leah sipped a bit of the herbal drink. It tasted like bay leaves and bitter aniseed, and she scrunched her nose before swallowing it.

“In all the classic movies I’ve seen, women give birth in bed”, she complained to Frigga. “Why do I have to walk and move so much?”

The queen smiled.

“Those ‘movies’ you mention were probably made by men, my dear. Walking during the contractions will help with the progression of the birth, and it will keep your mind away from the pain. Now relax and let your body prepare for the next time; it will be easier if you do not fight the process.”

Leah let out a loud sigh and looked around her. They had installed her in Loki’s former lodgings, which had turned out to be quite more than a simple room. In fact, it was a full apartment, complete with two bedrooms, a study, a giant bathroom and a huge living room, all of them decorated in green and gold. There was even a small kitchenette, tucked away behind a cleverly hidden panel. Both the main bedroom and the living room had French doors that led to a balcony; Leah had peeked outside during one of her strolls around the place, and she had seen a number of people congregated outside. They clapped and cheered when she approached the edge.

Private matters weren’t that private in Asgard, not when they concerned Odin’s family.

She had avoided the balcony since then; it was starting to get dark, and Adis had closed the curtains so she wouldn’t worry about the small crowd who was anxious to meet their new prince or princess.

“What time is it?” she asked, wondering what Loki would be up to, and how long it would take him to come back.

“No looking at the clock, dear”, answered Frigga. “It will not hurry things up and all it will do is make you nervous.”

“I’m already nervous. I feel like I’ve been in labor for ages!”

The queen walked to the fireplace and fanned the flames. Between her duties and Leah’s confinement, she hadn’t had many long conversations with her daughter-in-law since the day of her arrival, and now she was anxious to find a topic that would make the girl forget that her husband was away, battling a troll, perhaps in mortal danger.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were like as a child?” she finally asked. “Loki was so quiet and well-behaved that sometimes I could not believe my own luck. If he had been like Thor I would have gone mad before the first year.”

Thankful for the change of subject, Leah smiled.

“I was… I guess well-behaved would be a way of describing me, yes. My Nonna… my grandmother said I talked non-stop, and I remember a game I played all the time with my dolls… I was the host of a television show, and they were my guests. Of course I did all the talking, of course.”

“Sounds like you were a happy child.”

“Yes, at first I was. At least until my mother got sick”, Leah said, frowning.

Frigga raised an eyebrow in silence, and Adis left whatever she was doing with her herbs and came near the fire, listening intently.

Leah downed the rest of her tea, and spoke again.

“Shortly after I was born, my mother married a man called John Channing. He wasn’t my father, but I didn’t know it then… he adopted me, gave me his name, and he was the most wonderful dad any kid could dream. He drove a huge truck, and I loved it when he took me for a drive with him… One day when I was five, I told him I wanted to be a lady truck driver when I grew up. He laughed, but he got me a toy truck for my next birthday anyway. “

She stopped to catch her breath and went on.

“I had no idea, but my mother had started drinking when I was a baby. Dad… John was away a lot, because of his work, and I guess my mother felt lonely. Then she began drinking even when he was at home, and they fought more and more every day… until one day he left and didn’t come back.”

Frigga put a hand on Leah’s shoulder. “I did not mean for this to be painful for you, dear. If it is too much, let us talk about something else.”

“No, I have to tell this to someone or I will burst. Let me finish.” She ran her hands through her hair, loose now that her carefully braided bun had become undone with all the moving and walking around. “I was seven years old when my parents divorced, and from then on my mother’s drinking only got worse. My grandmother moved in with us for a few months, but it was one fight after another again, because my mother refused to get help. Any kind of help. One day they had a huge row, and my mother… she insulted Nonna so badly, and then she threw her out. My grandmother was a proud woman, and that was the last time she set foot in our house. I visited her almost every day, but she didn’t see her daughter again for several years.”

By then Frigga was cursing the moment she had started asking inconvenient questions. She looked at Adis, whose kind brown face was now serious and worried, and then at her daughter-in-law.

“How did you manage after that?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I had to take care of things”, she answered, fixing her steely gaze on the two women beside her. “I did the chores after school when my mother was too sick to get up. I got a cookbook from the school’s library and spent hours reading it… and then the following day I made mac and cheese. I remember my mother liked it… she even got out of bed to eat that day, and told me it was delicious. I guess that’s one of the reasons I like cooking.”

She reclined her head back, as if the long speech had exhausted her, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she squeezed Frigga’s hand and blinked to hold back a tear.

“And now you know why I’m so scared to have this kid. How am I going to raise a child… when it’s been so long since I knew how it feels to be one?”

Frigga smiled at her, making tiny wrinkles appear around her kind blue eyes.

“You have a new family now. A husband who loves you, a new brother… even a new father.”

“Odin doesn’t like me.”

“He does not know what to do with you… or with Loki, but that is a different problem, and we will address it at a different time. Moreover, you have me. I know I cannot replace your real mother and grandmother, but I will help you in any way I can.” She smiled at herself, like enjoying the visit of an old memory. “If I could handle raising a baby who turned blue every time he cried, I am sure helping you with my grandchild will be… how do they say it in Midgard? A piece of cake.”

The idiom seemed so out of place in Frigga’s voice that Leah had to laugh.

“I’m still hoping this one doesn’t give me frostbite when I hold him… oof!” She put her hands over her belly, feeling the familiar pain start again.

Adis put an arm behind Leah’s shoulder, supporting her back while she stood up.

“This one has arrived sooner than I expected. I will put the water to boil and get the bed ready.”

“You mean you’ll actually let me get on the bed now?” Leah asked, hopeful.

“Maybe for a while, when this contraction is over. Now, hold my arm and start walking, child.”

Leah did what she was told to, groaning.

“Oh, why did I let Loki do this to me? I swear, if he survives the troll I’m the one who’s going to kill him.”

The two women beside her laughed heartily, and Leah did all she could not to look offended.

“Now you are talking like a woman in labor”, Frigga said. “Come on, keep walking slowly and do not hold your breath.”

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automatismoateo · 4 years

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Had a bit of time free, so decided to answer "48 questions Atheists can't answer". Where I can I name the logical fallacy they use in the question. For 'unanswerable questions' they were surprisingly answerable. Good exercise to clarify your position, even if only to yourself. via /r/atheism

Submitted December 02, 2020 at 03:02PM by eldrad17 (Via reddit https://ift.tt/3myQVxb) Had a bit of time free, so decided to answer "48 questions Atheists can't answer". Where I can I name the logical fallacy they use in the question. For 'unanswerable questions' they were surprisingly answerable. Good exercise to clarify your position, even if only to yourself.

48 Questions Atheists can’t answer (answered)

I'll be honest, these questions weren't really well thought out. If I didn't get these directly from the website below I'd imagine someone was deliberately strawmanning their own arguments for some reason. I recommend having a go yourself, though, it helps to organise your thoughts on the matter! By the time I finished I figured I'd put it on here.

https://creationsciencestudy.wordpress.com/2014/06/10/clever-questions-atheists-cant-answer/

I feel I should mention there were certain questions which I felt I should avoid (specifically regarding race, rape and Hitler) but I got the sense the writers were trying to put people off of answering them, and I had set out to answer the 'unanswerable'.

1. If creationists can’t do science, then why do Kent Hovind and Duane T. Gish, who are creation scientists, have professional degrees in science?

A: This appears to be an ambiguity fallacy- Science is a broad term that covers many subjects and can be misused in certain circumstances as I think has been done in your question. If ‘creation’ science can be backed up by peer reviewed scientific journals that can be verified by other scientists around the world then yes that would make it a solid science. If Kent Hovind and Duane T. Gish have any such papers that have been peer reviewed I would be very interested to read them and check their claims. As it stands this has yet to be done.

‘Dr’ Kent Hovind in particular got his degrees from unaccredited institutions. He just added Doctor to his name so people will believe his claims which happens more than you think. I personally know someone who got his doctorate in writing a few years ago- doesn’t make him a scientist. I could go into Kent’s tax evasion here but I’d rather stick to the facts rather than commit a ‘Tu quoque’ fallacy.

2. If dinosaurs turned into birds, why are we not afraid of them?

A: Because birds aren’t a threat, we had millions of years to figure that out once the dinosaurs weren’t around. It would hardly make sense for a species to evolve and develop a fear of a predator that didn’t prey on them.

3. If homosexuality is right, then how come two people of the same sex not produce a child?

A: You’re assuming there is a morality position to take on this. Whilst I have heard there may be some evolutionary benefit to homosexuality I myself am not aware of it. Live and let live.

4. What purpose do we have if evolution is real?

A: Again you are making an assumption- this time that we have a purpose. As an (optimistic) nihilist I see no reason to think that life and the universe has any purpose. I determine the purpose of my own life.

5. You say Jesus never existed, but have you heard of the Shroud of Turin?

A: I never said Jesus didn’t exist. As for the shroud- It’s a sheet that looks like a face. I can make one at home! Jokes aside, if you can prove that it is in fact the face of Jesus and not someone else via genetic science or some other means that can accurately verify it (peer reviewed scientific journals again I’m afraid) then I will admit that Jesus did factually exist. You then have the problem of proving that he was the son of God and performed miracles as you say he did via the same means. Good luck with that.

6. Why do we not see humans being born in the zoos from monkeys if we came from monkeys?

A: The personal incredulity fallacy- because you don’t understand how something works ergo it must not be true. This demonstrates how little effort you have put into researching evolution. Monkeys can’t give birth to humans and vice versa- we descend from a common ancestor. For the final time (please!) Monkeys, Chimps, Gorillas and Humans all descended from a common ancestor millions of years ago- Apes!

7. Why do we go to church if God is not real?

A: The bandwagon fallacy- because most people think a certain way or believes something it must then be true. The most common way to explain this fallacy is pointing out that a popular opinion at one time was that the Earth was flat. Didn’t make our ancestors right back then just as I’m certain there are many things we all assume to be true that will one day be proven otherwise. It’s called progress.

Everyone likes to be reassured in what they believe, hanging out with like-minded people is a good way to do that and people are welcome to do so whether that’s at a Church, Mosque or even a pub. Personally I think it’s a waste of a good Sunday morning.

8. How did the Grand Canyon form?

A: Over millions of years due to the same naturalistic processes we can measure and observe around the world. There are many peer reviewed scientific journals that back this up.

9. Do you know that Jesus loves you?

A: Fallacy- an appeal to emotion. Trying to prove your point by ignoring the facts and attempting to win me over by making me feel good. That isn’t going to work with someone like me who doesn’t equate Jesus with love. Zombies and vampires love me too, apparently, but I’m hardly going to run over to them and make friends!

There are a lot of claims made about Jesus that require solid evidence for me to change my mind as to whether he actually existed, had a beard, was white, was male, told stories, performed miracles, whether he was the son of God and if so that there is a God. Start at the beginning and keep proving it through the scientific method (peer reviewed journals, remember) and I’ll convert. Simple.

10. If Christianity is false, then why is it popular?

A: Again, Bandwagon fallacy. Just because an idea is popular doesn’t make it true. If that were the case you might want to convert to Islam pronto as they’re soon going to take over the number of Christians!

11. If you say Christianity is not true, then why do hundreds of people continue to become saved every day?

A: Bandwagon. Belief is a fluid thing, it is different every day for every person. In the UK where I am from secularism is on the rise. Islam is apparently (so I read) on the rise in China. The demographics are changing constantly.

12. Why do we not see half trees and half carrots, fronkeys, and crocoducks if evolution is real?

A: Personal Incredulity again. Cross speciation is impossible due to genetics. Any one of those things may have evolved into existence if the right conditions for it arose.

13. Why is Richard Dawkins afraid to debate Ray Comfort?

A: He has better things to do. Such a high-profile debate would only afford legitimacy to the creationist view which he feels (and I agree) it does not deserve. Better to ask why an (actual) scientist does not take creationism seriously enough to bother debating it.

Saying this I have noticed a trend in secular/ theist debates where the Atheist side will debate the Bible/ Qur’an/ belief and its fallacies whilst the Theist side will try their best to argue the science. As interesting as it can be to watch it would be interesting to see a Theist try to debate the legitimacy of their claims rather than attack science in general.

14. Did you know Christopher Hitchens was saved before death?

A: Fallacy: appeal to emotion. I am pretty sure this was thrown in here to make me angry and make me say something you might use to trip me up. Christopher Hitchens was one of the finest minds of our time. I am sure his work will last the ages. As for being ‘saved’- again, evidence.

15. Are you aware Ray Comfort disproved atheism with a banana?

A: That depends on your definition of ‘proved’. I am going to say this is a combination of an ambiguation fallacy (‘proved’) and an appeal to authority (which would also go for other creationists brought up in these questions, like Kent Hovind).

First off, you and I need to be specific about what the term ‘proved’ means. For me it would mean that scientists around the world studied the evidence of his claim and by a majority came to the same conclusion. That would be some serious headline news.

Secondly, an appeal to authority is usually a good thing in debate as it allows the opinion of experts to weigh in on it. However, you really need be careful and study the level of authority a person has in their field. Ray Comfort is, in mine and I’m sure many people’s opinion, not an authority on Evolution, Biology, Geology, etc. etc. In fact, I’d go so far as to say he isn’t much of an authority on theology if he uses a banana!

Lastly, I hope you and Ray Comfort are aware that bananas were specifically made the way they are today by humans through selective breeding? That became a sort of (not so) natural selection. Google it.

16. Why do people laugh at evolutionists?

A: I was not aware they do. I assume for the same reason that 98% of scientists (including leading biologists, geologists, astrologists, cosmologists, historians, etc. etc.) do not take creationism seriously, which opens it to ridicule around the world.

17. How did the planets form when the Big Bang explosion all of a sudden happen? After all, you don’t see round objects form when something blows up.

A: There is a lot of misunderstanding in that question. (Personal Incredulity fallacy.) The planets formed long after the Big Bang. The early universe was filled with formless atoms that gradually started clumping together and, through a steady process of quantum mechanics and then gravitational pull started forming astral bodies, eventually forming the ones we see today.

I can’t help but add in a Tu Quoque here (yes, I know, but I think it’s relevant.) How did the human race come into existence when at one point (according to Genesis) the only people on Earth were Cain, his mum Eve, his dad Adam and his brother’s corpse? Who did he mate with to conceive the next generation whilst avoiding long lasting genetic problems in humans? Remember, according to your book they were the only people in existence.

18. If evolution is real, how can it explain gravity, angular momentum, human emotions, and why we worship God?

A: Evolution doesn’t concern itself with any of those. It simply focusses on the development of life over time. It doesn’t affect gravity, which has its own theory (The theory of gravity), or angular momentum (pretty sure that’s mathematics and physics). Human emotions are the domain of psychology but it’s easy to see how our survival as a species would depend on how we treated each other as a group, so emotions and a common focal point (religion) would have contributed to that.

God is more the domain of Theology which in itself can be said to have evolved over time- Judaism used to be a polytheism until someone decided that one God must be better than all the other (Jehovah) and eventually all the other gods were just forgotten. If ancient Greece, early Rome or the Vikings got here instead, we’d be worshipping Zeus, Jupiter or Odin instead of God (all four of them do look very similar when you think about it)

19. How did pond scum make living things appear out of nowhere?

A: Personal Incredulity fallacy. Honestly, we do not know yet. Science is still working on that. That doesn’t remove the legitimacy of Abiogenesis (or even Panspermia for that matter) - it isn’t too far a stretch of the imagination once you understand that we are essentially made up of things common to this planet- we are 80% water, carbon-based, with elements of iron, calcium, and various other squares on the periodic table of elements which can be found, inorganically, across the planet. The only two things that make us and this planet unique (as far as we can tell right now) is Protein and Chlorophyll, once we’ve figured that out we’ll have a better idea of how life began to form here.

20. How can evolution be true if we don’t see pocket watches or airplanes form by themselves?

A: Personal Incredulity (again). How can God be true if planes or pocket watches don’t appear magically after 7 days with zero human input? Planes and pocket watches are inorganic and were made specifically by humans with a purpose in mind. To assume the same with the universe and all life is demonstrating a narrow view of the subject.

21. Did you know that dinosaurs and man lived together?

A: Citation. You’re making a claim and need to provide evidence to back it up. Show me one example of dinosaur fossils being found in the same sediment as human fossils and I will genuinely start to question what I have been taught. So far, I haven’t seen a single one.

22. If evolution is real, then why do caring people like Rick Santorum argue that it must be challenged in the classroom?

A: I’m going to label this question as another appeal to authority/ emotion case. Just because something ‘feels’ right or good doesn’t make it true. Drugs feel good but I don’t take what a drug user says as gospel. People can still be caring but mistaken.

However in this case I do agree it needs to be challenged on every level. It is only when a theory is challenged we can see the strength of it. The theory of evolution has only lasted as long as it has because it has withstood scrutiny from the finest scientific minds over the last 150 years. It has changed with new evidence in that time but nonetheless still remains the best explanation we have for how life has arrived at this point today.

I am an atheist because I put both the anthropomorphic God and the Bible under scrutiny and I didn’t even need my scientific knowledge to see the various problems with them. God and creationism form at best a poor hypothesis.

Before leaving this point I would also like to add the notion of a black-or-white fallacy. It’s being implied throughout these questions that the only two options are either evolution or creationism, which isn’t necessarily the case. By implying that these are the only two options you are trying to add legitimacy to creationism by ignoring any other options that may exist. I still maintain that evolution is the best explanation for how life came to be the way it is today, but why are you ignoring all of the other creation stories in the world? Hinduism, Buddhism and various other faiths have their own claims, what makes them any less legitimate than creationism?

23. Why are youtube atheists like AronRa and Thunderf00t afraid to debate Ray Comfort?

A: This is the same question as the Richard Dawkins one. However I am familiar with Thunderf00t and AronRa and can tell you there are plenty of youtube videos that put their point across. They probably feel they don’t need to debate creationists anymore until their original videos are satisfactorily debunked.

24. Why do we celebrate Christmas if Christianity is not real?

A: I’m going to tentatively label this as a No True Scotsman fallacy. Saying that only Christians should celebrate Christmas is inappropriately glossing over all the people who celebrate Christmas who aren’t Christian.

Christmas was originally a pagan holiday celebrating the winter solstice. It’s in no way solely for Christians. It makes for very interesting reading if you want to look it up. Anyone can get behind the idea of people coming in from the cold and sharing a meal with their family, religious or otherwise. Easter was also about sex and fertility (the rabbit and the eggs anyone?) where I come from its only the religious who try to make it about them.

25. If creationists can’t do science, then why does the website Answersingenesis have proven science articles from creationists that do science?

A: Ambivalence Fallacy (again). Again, science is a very broad term covering many different areas and the term ‘proven’ is very ambiguous. If you said peer reviewed scientific journals from established experts in the fields of Biology and Geology instead, I’d pay more attention. But since we both know that isn’t the case here I’ll accept that the computer science/ theology majors that usually add the ‘Dr’ part to the names of the authors who write these articles make what you say in this question ‘technically’ true (except the ‘proven’ part). In this case it is a question of authority. I choose to listen to the experts of the fields required (biology, physics, etc.) instead of the people with a ‘Christian Science’ degree, especially since its biased groups like answersingenesis who usually hand out those degrees anyway.

26. If evolution is true, then why can’t white people compete to be good in basketball like black people? After all, white people can’t jump!

A: Personal Incredulity. I would also add the begging the question fallacy and possibly red herring to this as well. You’re trying to frame the question in such a way that the answer you want is in the question- and moving the argument in a direction that doesn’t add to the conversation but instead to a place where you think I won’t come out well. Also, I’m fairly certain there’s exceptions to this rule- I’m pretty sure there’s some good white basketball players out there. I come from the UK where basketball isn’t such a big deal so I have no background knowledge on this, so I could be wrong.

However, saying this, it isn't ridiculous to imagine that any general variations between races may be due to different environments that favoured different traits (Africa is different to Europe, Asia to America, etc.) I am no expert in this, so I won't comment further.

27. Where do you decide to fit God in your everyday life if you don’t believe in him?

A: Begging the question/ Burden of Proof. You’re assuming your position is the natural stance to take and putting me in a place where I have to justify my stance. Here it is anyway- I place God in the same place I fit Santa, the Tooth fairy, Leprechauns, Unicorns, etc. etc.

28. Why is Christianity the fastest growing religion if it’s false?

A: Citation. Last I heard it was Islam and non-belief that were rising. Even if Christianity were rising it doesn’t change the fact of whether it is true or not. A billion people could believe the Earth was square but I would still call them wrong.

29. Do you feel free to commit murders, homosexuality, go to strip bars, steal, commit adultery, and do other sins since you believe there is no God?

A: I will throw my hands up here and say that this is actually a good question to ask an Atheist. I did have to think about this one so well done on that. There’s nothing wrong in admitting your debating opponent has made a good point or asked a good question.

Whilst I do not believe in any moral absolutes in the universe I do believe in the Golden Rule: Do unto other as you would have them do unto you. It’s simply the best way to function in a society, hence why I don’t care about what people do in the bedroom or do with their bodies- it’s their choice so long as they leave me to make my own.

However if extreme circumstances dictated it necessary (i.e. my own survival) I can’t say I would be able to keep to that rule, but that’s only in extreme circumstances, and I would dare anyone to admit otherwise to that.

30. Why do the fossils say no to evolution?

A: Citation to your claim. Fossils don’t say anything. They’re rocks. If you are hearing rocks talking I suggest you seek help. OK in all seriousness show me the evidence (remember, from peer reviewed scientific journals from unbiased geologists across the globe) and I would start to question what I know. Simply asserting that fossils say no to evolution doesn’t make it so.

31. Why did Darwin admit that how the eye formed is impossible?

A: Again, Citation to your claim. I’d certainly be interested in knowing if this was true. Even if it was though it is true that Darwin had a lot of issues with his theory. He spent the rest of his life working on it.

When a Theory is first made it rarely remains the same in the face of new evidence. Over 150 years it has been fine-tuned with new evidence so that the current model fits best with what we know. One solid piece of evidence to counter evolution would throw the whole thing into question. Darwin wouldn’t recognise the theory of evolution today.

We have since been able to explain the eye and have even found species that still have remnants of an eye in early evolutionary forms as well as species that have evolved to not need eyes as much as they used to. We have seen how the eye can change over time.

32. Where did everything come from if there is no God?

A: The God of the Gaps argument. ‘We don’t know the answer, so God.’ In short, we don’t know either, just like you. Current science can only take us back to a moment after the big bang. There are a lot of ideas floating around at this stage and I for one look forward to what we find next.

I’m personally drawn to the ‘Big Cheese’, ‘Multiverse’ and 'One Electron Universe' theories which sound promising as well as exciting. None of this requires that a supreme intelligent being started it all- and even if it did, it would then beg the question of where that supreme intelligent being came from.

33. If there is no God, then why do we have laws that govern us, such as speed limits?

A: Because society had to function. I don’t look at society as something formed around the collective worship of deity but rather as a collective agreement that this is the best way for us to get along, rather than hitting each other with clubs.

I’m curious about this now, thought: what is the Bibles stance on speed limits?

34. Do you know where you are going when you die?

A: Another good question to ask! These types of questions are genuinely making me think about my stance and if you want to convert me someday then that is what you need to do.

I personally want to be cremated and placed in a biodegradable urn with a tree seed that could feed off the nutrients in my ashes. That way I could help towards keeping the planet clean and not just be some boring old gravestone. Those are creepy. I’d probably visit passed loved ones more if graveyards were vibrant forests rather than morbid tombstones everywhere.

As for the next life I don’t know and frankly I’m not too concerned- I’m in the same boat as every living thing that has ever existed, currently exists and will ever exist. Not existing isn’t something to be scared of- it didn’t bother me before I was born!

Having said that, however, if I were brought before God (if!) for judgement when I die, then it would depend. If I were judged by the quality of my actions and words in life, then God would be just and I should have nothing to fear (the golden rule, remember?)

If, however, I am to be judged based on how many times I exclaimed I loved God, attended church and never questioned dogma, then that is an unjust God who isn’t worth worshipping and I will happily walk into hell with the moral high ground.

If there is no God, then I will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of my loved ones.

I thank Marcus Aurelius for this observation.

35. Why do we not act like monkeys if it is true we came from monkeys?

A: Personal incredulity (Again!) I’m guessing these questions were written by different people because I’m genuinely impressed by some and slapping my head with the others. This is the latter.

Who says we don’t act like monkeys? I love climbing trees and eating bananas! I’m glad of my social circle and I groom a lot (well, as much as a bald man can!)

This question seems to imply that man is somehow superior to monkeys, but I think the implication is backwards- Theism and Creationism seem determined to prove that the universe is governed by an anthropomorphic being (one that has human characteristics- awareness, rules, jealous, loving, etc. etc.) but the way I see it the universe is completely indifferent to our existence- mountains don’t care if we fall off of them and water doesn’t care if it drowns us. The universe is what it is.

By comparison, primate species are incredibly anthropomorphic- they have tight family groups that they love, they can be jealous, they have rules, they have a mild awareness (enough to use tools and sign language) so it really isn’t that big of a stretch to think that we are distantly related, especially when you consider the fossil evidence!

36. Why do we display The Ten Commandments in the courtrooms if you say the Bible is not real?

A: Appeal to Authority. Which in this case doesn’t apply to me because I’m not in the US. I’m British and we don’t have that, I think. I’ve never been in a courtroom.

However, there is nothing wrong with a society remembering its roots- the UK has almost 1000 years of history and Christianity has been there throughout (remember- doesn’t make it true!)

As for the US system it has only been in recent times that these have popped up- America was founded on secular principles (something I feel we could do more with on both sides of the Atlantic) it’s nonsense that it was based on anything otherwise. Google any of the founding fathers and I’m sure you’d find similar sentiments, or even in the constitution. As a Brit I feel I shouldn’t need to have to tell you about the very piece of paper that cemented our loss in the war for independence!

37. Why should be it wrong to rape if God is not real?

A: Red herring/ appeal to emotion. Moral implications shouldn’t impact on a debate about the existence of God, Jehovah or otherwise. You’re attempting to frame the question in a way that provokes an emotional response and makes my stance appear less valid (but only appear!) (Again!)

As before- Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It’s very simple. Rape in particular is a horrendous crime and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. As a society we have in place the means to severely punish those who rape as well as the social stigma attached to it (even in prison) to act as a deterant to would-be rapists. None of that, however, is dependant on the existence of a God.

38. Why is The Passion of The Christ very high on the Box Office?

A: Red Herring/ Bandwagon fallacy. This quiz is probably very old- again I have to reiterate that just because something is popular doesn’t make it true! At the time of writing Avatar is the highest grossing film of all time, it doesn’t mean I’m going to preach about how we need to find Pandora. I don’t believe in the force because Star Wars is so popular, or Hogwarts because of Harry Potter.

I would also argue that box office ratings have nothing to do about the existence of Jesus of the veracity of the Bible. I find it weird that I need to point this out.

39. How can America not be a Christian nation if there are way more churches than mosques?

A: Bandwagon (again). America can have as many churches, mosques and temples as it wants. It doesn’t change the fact that it was founded on secular principles. Calling America a Christian country marginalises the other religions who are protected by the constitution to practice their faith (or non-faith) freely.

I may also argue that there are more McDonalds in America than pizza huts- does that make America a burger nation?

40. How is the bible not real if it’s the most popular book read by man?

A: Citation for your claim and bandwagon fallacy (again! This is becoming a habit!) At the time of writing the most popular book by number of sales is the Qur’an- 3 billion copies sold compared to 2.5 billion Bibles. Again, I have to reiterate (and it’s getting repetitive) that just because something is popular doesn’t mean that it’s true.

41. How did the moon form?

A: Red Herring. What does this have to do with the existence of God? I’ll indulge anyway.

As I understand the moon formed when, some 4.5 billion years ago, a mars sized planet name Theia crashed into the Earth. The resulting chaos threw a lot of debris into Earth’s gravity that came together to form the moon.

Again, I’m curious to know where creationists think it came from.

42. Did you know that famous scientists like Newton, Sir Richard Owen, Einstein, Galileo, and Copernicus were creationists?

A: Citation needed/ Appeal to Authority. Newton, Galileo and Copernicus I can understand since they were from a time where that was the norm. It doesn’t impact their contributions to science or lessens their impact on history.

Sir Richard Owen I would find hard to believe since his only problem with the theory of evolution was that it was too basic and was likely to be more complex (in a way he was right) and Albert Einstein only ever referred to God in a pantheistic sense (i.e. he believed in a non-anthropomorphic God which is against what is taught in the Torah- he was from a Jewish background) I find it highly unlikely that he was a creationist.

Admittedly the first three I just applied common sense to and the other two I had to look up (I didn’t know who Sir Richard was) but a simple search brought me the answers there.

43. Why do we not see black people come from white people?

A: Personal Incredulity. Because, as I explained before, genetic traits get passed down from one generation to the next. They can’t leap from one person to the other without somewhere to come from.

I would again add begging the question and possibly red herring fallacies to this as well. Again, you’re trying to frame the question in such a way that the answer you want is in the question- and moving the argument in a direction that doesn’t add to the debate but instead to a place where you think I won’t come out well.

This is a very vague question, by the way. It seems to imply that black and white people can't produce offsring together, which is completely incorrect.

44. Why are fruitflies still fruitflies in the lab experiments if they are claimed to prove evolution?

A: Personal Incredulity. Because a fruitfly isn’t going to be able to evolve into something that isn’t a fruitfly in the short time we’ve been able to observe. Give it a few thousand generations and maybe you’ll be surprised.

45. Did you know that the Piltdown Man was a hoax used for Darwinist propaganda?

A: The composition fallacy! At least this question is different. The argument being that because one thing wasn’t true the whole argument shouldn’t stand up. We have so much evidence pointing to evolution that it is no longer a question of if it did happen but how did it happen. Mistakes are going to be made as it would be in all endeavours, scientific or otherwise, but it doesn’t change the facts.

46. Why do we not see frogs turn into birds?

A: Personal Incredulity. This question has been asked multiple times in different versions. Refer to my previous answers.

47. Why is Fox News dishonest if it is a network run by truthful Christians?

A: Citation for your claim/ Red Herring/ Begging the question/ Appeal to emotion. You would need to prove beyond reasonable doubt that all Christians are truthful. The Vatican wasn’t exactly honest in its dealings with the paedophile ring it tried to cover up! (A low blow I know!)

There are many examples of untruthful Christians as I am sure there are many examples of untruthful Atheists, Muslims, Buddhists as well as communists, capitalists, feminists, etc. etc. and etc. Christians don’t own a monopoly on honest or dishonest behaviour.

As for Fox news, I’m not so sure a network with such a heavy political bias can always be considered ‘honest’, I genuinely thought Bill O’Reilly was a comic character like Borat when I first saw him! The rest of the world can see Fox news footage and generally laughs at it- ‘Tide goes in tide goes out, you can’t explain that!’ Really?! (It’s the moon, by the way, Bill. Were you not taught that at school?)

Again I need to state, though, that the honesty/ dishonesty of a television channel, intentional or otherwise, doesn’t impact the debate on whether a God (or Gods) exist.

48. Why did Hitler fail to make a superior race if evolution is true?

A: Appeal to emotion. Subtly trying to equate Hitler and Evolution is another logical fallacy. In fact I’d also say it’s a combination of a loaded question mixed with a genetic fallacy. You don’t want me to answer it, you want me to say something that may be taken out of context and perhaps later use it for an ad hominem attack whilst also assuming that absolutely everything Hitler believed/ did makes it evil by association, like you did with the questions about race and rape. Adolf Hitler was a human being- he was also an artist, does that make art evil? He also breathed oxygen, are you really going to breathe the same air as him? He was also confirmed catholic…

As for the ‘Master Race’ thing I’d say that he may well have created a new breed of human if any eugenic plans he may have had carried on as they did. Thankfully he was stopped before we had a chance to find out.

As for eugenics in general, setting aside the moral implications of human breeding programs, we have today certain species (particularly dogs and, as mentioned above, bananas) that have been successfully bred into certain forms. The British bulldog wouldn’t exist today if it weren’t for selective breeding. The fact is as with any eugenics project it would take a lot longer than the time Hitler had to see the results. The Bulldog in particular was a process that started over a century ago and even with modern genetic science we are scratching the surface on what we might be able to do.

Of course, there is still a lot to discuss in terms of what would be immoral and what could be allowed- modern purebred Bulldogs are generally suffering with genetic problems no one could have foreseen when they first started breeding them, and history is unfortunately littered with royal families whose genetic flaws due to inbreeding were all too well known.

If you made it this far then thanks for reading- I feel I should mention, again, there were certain questions which I felt I should avoid (the race, Hitler and rape related ones specifically) but I got the sense the writers were trying to put people off of answering them, and I set out to answer the 'unanswerable', so I did to the best of my ability.

#reddit

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