#seraphim reed

[dustymagpie]

[beyhr]

plate dragon pals 🐉💕

[yellow-yarrow]

did you know that the Insulandian Phasmid quotes from the bible? I got curious if looking at the context of the bible quote would add anything to the interpretation of this scene, and maybe there are some parallels. Meeting the phasmid is like a revelation, just like how in that part of the bible god talks to Isaiah. (I can't belive im reading the bible out of all things for a video game lmao. god damn it.) yeah yeah maybe it's not supposed to mean anything other than the phasmid loves this world but it can be fun to look into it. maybe it is that deep

think of this as more of a web weaving post

You - I exist too. Insulindian Phasmid - Tell me what it's like for you. You - It's *wunderbar*. Insulindian Phasmid - Yes, holy is the lord of hosts. And all the Earth is filled with his glory.

Isaiah 6 BSB

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted; and the train of His robea filled the temple.

Encyclopedia - (..)An Innocence is a continuous, compressed event, a sacred human being. It is an honour and a glory to live when one is in office. You - Is one in office now? Encyclopedia - No. We are alone.

Insulindian Phasmid - You are a violent and irrepressible miracle. The vacuum of cosmos and the stars burning in it are afraid of you. Given enough time you would wipe us all out and replace us with nothing -- just by accident. (...) You - Have I always thought this way? Insulindian Phasmid - No -- you're only thinking it *now*. This is a revelation.

Above Him stood seraphim, each having six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling out to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of Hosts; all the earth is full of His glory.” At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook, and the temple was filled with smoke.

In Hebrew, the word saraph means "burning"

Insulindian Phasmid - Tell me what it's like for you. You - Fire, burning.

Insulindian Phasmid - You were right. Little bubbles form on the mouthparts of the creature -- on its segmented lower lip. It looks to be foaming, slowly. The foam is white, then yellowish... Perception (Smell) - The faintest smell, like you've never felt before. Like burnt roses.

Insulindian Phasmid - The foam slowly turns a darker shade, like burnt caramel -- as the insect moves its mouthparts, masticating. The little bubbles begin to burst, one by one... Perception (Smell) - Letting out that same smell, like summer burning.

Then I said: “Woe is me, for I am ruined, because I am a man of unclean lips dwelling among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of Hosts.” (..)

The Deserter - "I've seen the *real world*. In '06. The flags unfolding. Young people marching, being kind to each other. They dreamt of a million years in the stars. This here..." He looks down at the ashes. "Is pale in waiting."

The Deserter - "Straight to Yekokataa for this old revisionist." He gives you a little nod. "At last -- atonement for my sins: revisionism, reactionary ideation, desertion..."

The Deserter - "The material base for an uprising has eroded." He nods and blinks his black eyes. "The working class has betrayed mankind and themselves..."

(? maybe? idk.)

Then one of the seraphim flew to me, and in his hand was a glowing coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And with it he touched my mouth and said: “Now that this has touched your lips, your iniquity is removed and your sin is atoned for.”

maybe this one is a stretch (like the others too lol)

You - Lick your finger. Interfacing - It tastes like... sugar. Very faint. The arthropod towers above you, tufts of reeds pointing from limb and head alike. Perception (Taste) - Odourless, mostly comprised of water.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying: “Whom shall I send? Who will go for Us?” And I said: “Here am I. Send me!” And He replied: “Go and tell this people, ‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding; be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’ Make the hearts of this people calloused; deafen their ears and close their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed.” Then I asked: “How long, O Lord?” And He replied: “Until the cities lie ruined and without inhabitant, until the houses are left unoccupied and the land is desolate and ravaged, until the LORD has driven men far away and the land is utterly forsaken. And though a tenth remains in the land, it will be burned again. As the terebinth and oak leave stumps when felled, so the holy seed will be a stump in the land.”

Insulindian Phasmid - Everything your eyes touch goes back there -- behind the nerve mirror. What if you blink? Are we still here? (Please don't blink). What if you misplace us all one day -- or just forget? You - Have I always thought this way? Insulindian Phasmid - No -- you're only thinking it *now*. This is a revelation. You - This is the Gloaming I've been waiting for. Ever since I woke up in the hotel room.

Man with Sunglasses - "About *what?* You don't look like a cop..." He inspects you. "You know what you look like?" You - "Like a prophet?" Man with Sunglasses - "Not the prophet shit again..." He looks away.

Evrart Claire - "It says..." He looks in the folder. "Oh yes... very interesting. It says you're more like a mad prophet than a cop. Always rambling about the end of the world... I'm sure these stories are exaggerated."

Cop of the apocalypse (early version from the game files):

or perhaps

Rhetoric - You -- against the atom, the charm and the spin. Where the whole world failed -- matter failed to bend to human will; human will failed to get out of bed and tie its laces -- you alone, single-handedly, will rebuild the dreams of the working class. You are The Last Communist.

well regardless, the quote is another instance of christian symbolism in elysium

[bihanspookies]

Tagged by: @valyrra

Describe yourself in one word or more: Yapper

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Any Phobia?: roaches 🤢

Sports?: None

PC vs Console: Console

Cat vs Dog: Both but I like cats a little more

Summer vs Winter: Winter

Mortal Kombat vs Street Fighter: MK👹

Favorite Fictional Male Character: Choso, Yuuji, Kankuro, Seraphim (BoZ)

Favorite Fictional Female Character: Tsunade, Lara Croft, Senju Kawaragi

Vampire vs Werewolf: Both but I have been more into vampires lately

Reading, Writing or Drawing?: Reading bc I’ve gotten back into it

Something you do that is not very common: Pop my toes LMFAO

Beer vs Wine: Neither

A part of a song: “but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips. I can't go back to the river” River Lea - Adele

Halloween vs Friday the 13th: HMMM BOTH but leaning more towards Halloween

What makes you happy: My friends (online and irl), my special little guys, my dog, reading/writing/being crafty, video games

Tattoo vs Piercing: Tattoos!

Your biggest fear: Too many to name lmao

A Place in the World: Georgia Aquarium

NP Tags: @chadillacboseman @luna-di-fuoco @roofgeese @malicedragoness @elligatorrex @socially-awkward-skeleton @pinkcatminht @shellibisshe @cassieuncaged @meatgrinderminefield @euphoric-melodia

[mjrtaurus]

Reed picked up on the fact that Crocodile said "eldest son" when referring to Luffy and is surprised at the prospect that he has more. She has virtually no context about the Seraphim Project so seeing Gabriel and Gryphon left her speechless. Asking how Crocodile managed to hide them for five or six years lead to Gryphon saying "we didn't exist"

And then Gabe asking if the lady with banana feet wants to come to their first birthday party in a few months.

Crocodile explains about the whole Seraphim thing and Reed is all but gnashing her needle sharp teeth and flaring her gills in rage. The government has the nerve to play god and then treat their creations like soulless weapons? When they are children? Oh yes, she's joining the guild now. She needs to skewer a few wanted marines on her seastone harpoon as soon as physically possible.

But the time for that will come soon enough. Right now, Auntie Reed is telling the boys all the wild stories of the Sobekneferu's reign of terror. From her maiden voyage out of Water 7, to the time she was nearly eaten by a sea grape wani on the journey from Sabaody to Fishman Island. All the stories but one. The one where she was lost in a fool's errand. That was a tale that Baba would have to tell.

Speaking of bananas, Crocodile brings her to the wani lagoon to reunite with an old friend.

Ammit was one of the few of the trained bananawani that had survived the attack, and the only one of that number who survived the exodus from Rainbase to Impel Down to Karai Bari. She was reaching the latter half of her prime, getting a little more sluggish and grumpy with age, but still hunting and nesting.

The second she caught Reed's scent, she was in the water, paddling toward her like the biggest and toothiest duckling you could ever imagine.

[originemesis]

@kugel-bitch from xxx

Close. But no. As if propelled by some no-longer-dormant predatory drive, Lute has vanished out of Adam's immediate vicinity to chase a hapless red squirrel through the underbrush swaddling the roots of the surrounding trees (which she is also very much tempted to climb make no mistake about that). Dipping and ducking through flowering bushes and ticklish reeds, she looses sight of the frazzled rodent when she gets her boot tangled up in a tendrilous vine creeping through the foliage and she takes an unceremonious tumble right into a patch of yellow flowers.

"Eden..." Rolling onto her back, she lets that reality sink in for a moment. "It's...—" The wellspring of all life on earth. The high seraphim's magnum opus. The place where he drew his first breath, took his first steps, where he first experienced love and loss and everything in between. And he still comes here, after all these years? Does it not hurt? To be reminded of all the wonderful things that were taken from him? "—upside down." Lute stares at the clouds, which she's used to bolstering the ground that she walks on, floating aaaaall the way up there in the all encompassing blue of the sky, just barely veiling the big, shiny ball of light from her view. It speaks for itself, the way she's miserably failing to conjure up an answer to his query. Being here with him, it feels...intimate, on a level she's not sure she's ever experienced before and it's got her feeling a little bit sheepish to be quite honest. Like she's encroaching on something deeply sacred. "...I've never seen anything like it..." She cants her head and transfixes him with a gaze that is all pupils, brimming with nothing but pure, innocent wonderment, which is an expression that almost looks out of place on her delicate but typically dour features. "...I don't think I'll ever see anything like it again..." Slowly, she eases herself up onto her elbows, drawing a deep breath of the aromatic air. It feels notably heavier in her lungs than the air in heaven, but not in an unpleasant way. Just...different. very different. All of it. "How does it feel...for you, I mean? Being here? Do you miss it?"

Oh. That's what she was doing. Whelp-...unsurprising, really. "Careful with the wildlife, Danger Tits- they don't make rabies shots for angels last I checked." He called over in his typical flavor of commander's reproach when it came to his lieutenant- which was mostly just him egging her on under the guise that he actually did his job. With his talon still curling and teasing the air with subtle adjustments to the area- a shifted bough here and there to let the moonlight through, he watched her chase down the terrorized tree rat with the same dogged determination of an exorcist trailing after a scuttling demon, amusement edging along the uneasy smile from his question before until it split into it's usual jagged grin. What an actual psycho...he loved that for her.

He figured it was only a matter of time til she discovered roots- things that seemed extra foreign to those with wings, and when she took her faceplant and subsequent roll through the goldenrods, the tips of his grin twitched and he hunkered down briefly in order to spring up and slowly walk down a winding staircase of fog patches that appeared under each foot until he took the final one back onto the ground at her side. "Oh yeah - and roots. Those are fun, huhhh?"

With an endearing cluck or two, he waited for her to collect her thoughts (and her bearings for that matter) while he took to stretching his wings, the gold in his feathers causing the yellow flowers to look almost sickly in comparison when the silver light of the moon gilded their edges. He'd seen a pair kind of like his now when he'd crashed here originally - belonging to the so called bouncers of the place, and he knew they'd bump into them eventually the longer they lingered. Best way to light a fire under the ass of indecision, he supposed.

"...you can roll over, y'now? Just a suggestion- probably the best one-" A 'pfft' escaped him the way she seemed both so eager to take in all the details around them and yet they only weighed her down more in her wonderment. So dopey... a brief twinge o cringe rose in his chest briefly recalling how much he'd felt the same way once all at once there was him among all this and no one just yet nearby to explain the intricacies of shit and why shit was the best. Of course, on her it's kind of cute in a way. Maybe someone had thought that about him once.

Her admittance shivers his feathers out like a chill wind passing through and he gives them a beat, knocking yellow blooms off stems at her and into her hair. His gaze fell to study the side of her face and the way the moonlight caught it and cast a gilded edge along the sight of pure, unblemished wonder. That was something he never expected to see again, but angels were...lucky like that. "Neither did I. But..." He paused, the thought hammering around in his helmet like a sinner trying to escape hell's pot. He lets it boil for now.

A shake of his head later frees his gaze from her marveling and he settles it on what little of the horizon can be seen, sprinkled with stars like the fragments found in halos. The boiled thought might be quiet, but it's definitely causing the temperature change in his visor which sports the faintest cross hatching of yellow lines indicating extra heat beneath. "I mean...kinda not so mind-blowing after the first playthrough? But I guess it's something more than just mid since you're here too." An awkward feather flutter followed along with a few explanatory coughs. "I get to see you fall on your ass chasing rats and shit- what's not based about that?" His shoulders hunched in frustration and he drew his gaze down as he hunkered over her, studying her face again from his position on high.

"Hey-"

Talons emerged from the scalloped edges of robe as he offered her a hand up. "Everything here is... kinda private? Weird- most people have skeletons in their closets, and I got a garden in mine. Not so metal of me- right?" Another shake of his head, and he was fanning his wings out and slightly curling them in around her with a softer chirp to share in the safe space of a golden cage with her inside it with him. "I didn't think I'd see something like Eden again, Lute-" But.

"...but then you came along."

And unlike Eden and what it had been to him and never could be again, she was still there. Would she always be? "So I had to show you that- what it really means to have you here...with me." He'd leaned in, just enough to ghost a preen along the edge of one of her wings, something in the atmosphere shifting like radio frequencies colliding until the very acoustics of the garden seemed tuned in and targeting the two strange creatures within its boughs. "There's something else I've been meaning to tell you...if you'll hear me out?"

[instruth]

Swaying Of The Autumn Leaves

Swaying of the autumn leaves

As curtsy of grass sweeps the plains

Creepers dress the rocky cleaves

The hills echoing in a sweet refrain

As a soft breeze gently passes by

River reeds fan the dancing mayflies

Daintily flapping to where beauty lies

As spinning silk robes the butterflies

Awakening nymphs and fairies

While seraphim and cherubs in glory

With compliments of food and dairies

All created things come fully alive

The wind, sun or rain touches all

From land to sea, from nests to hives

Rejoicing, celebrating, swaying tall

©Johnny J P Lee

22 October 2022

Gogyoshiren Poem

Photos: J. P. Lee Album

(Photographers unknown)

[thenightlymirror]

Rhubarb

We used a 500w light

The kind you buy from Home Depot

And hid it above the bathroom mirror

The light that came down from the ceiling

Painted everything in a warm shimmer

The actor that played you in this film

Was not the one I would have chosen

He had a habit of smiling when he had nothing better to do

Which made the suicide attempt at the end of the film

Seem to come out of nowhere

Your professor friend told you to take the scene out

But I was adamant that the scene stay in

It’s the only shot I like

If you really want to make everything cohere

Just get rid of the rest of the film where he’s smiling for no reason

You could have said something

That’s what directing is.

Balibar

I misread something once and assumed for many years that Etienne Balibar was Althusser’s wife

He looks like he gives really good hugs

Rhubarb #2

See, knocking toward recorded states

Knowing most days ever deduced you

No season forwarding miles

She, wraith-like, lifts the sitter through the ether

Up through dirt and regret

Her spirit-name lapping over stones on the river

The white sheet, wet, tracing time in wooden faces

In Illyrium, mine forever

Out of nickel slugs, the lie and splinter gang

Stay with me stage-left in the hallway of your laundry room

The shadow of your wrist

The black summer outside in cicada hum

The stage painted black

Yellow dressing room lights dimly during the day

While classes went on and we slept in sawdust

The sawdust, the centipede

The tile floor of your bathroom under the risers

Bleecher marks on your skin

Thoth hidden in the bathtub Armada among artifacts like the cold faucet

You, Anise, in cattails

Stepping on boards across marshes

You, sweet friend, red seraphim, yours alone

Ewe’s horn and fool, come and find me

Malefic foe of D’ne, attacking the temple headfirst

Shallow gold passage of oil that flows over her feet

The lady machine bewitched

The Dodo’s song on the back of a washboard

Along Katib’s reed and whistle

Elephants sigh in empathy with the ghost

He knows

When the smiling snake of Tabitha and Abbadon

The red scalloped rib of the cinema curtain

The rabbit’s pink nose on heaven’s cloud

Air graveyard pipes

And violin bow the singing saw

Evil eye on sister Venus climbing the miller’s wheel

Speaking her angel’s papyrus with disappearing ink

Remember me before we knew warm river shores

Long fingers in sand

The soil that hangs on branches standing upright on its banks

Pulling the threads of it dark brown roots

Tangled in telephone wires red and blue

The beige receiver unscrewed

The voice in carbon cupped in your hand

Yellow vinyl, bareback, cigarette smoke hovering into the austere void above

Soft plastic tissue released from engines in the blue sky

The deep end of the living room

Suspension of the lithe body

The proximity and weight

Roaring lion’s voice and the beasts it kills like an open door

Tawny and overgrown rusted junkyard

Heat and sweat on your cool face underneath

The tattered orange towel that covers the window

The tortoise shell

Love or the dark cabinet

I waited hidden for hours crying alternately sniggering through the peep hole

As the party continued

As breath quickened and stopped

Teapot Dome changes a gourd half carved out an intricate path

Stiff paper walls

Labyrinthine circuit, unseen, unknown

To that breathing thing, unfolding inside itself in cellulose

Bark-like, dry, a wonder

Tightly winding the mouse a sewing needle

[cardinalhope]

                the Angels are known for the choir of trumpets they are destined to call forth the rapture with , the angels gifted the spellbinding blessing of music to mortal men to try and capture what they image the end times would be in a melodious crash of noise / wind , but over time the toils of understanding strings and reed, the unworthy became worthy to recite holy harmonies and even string together a language that was secretive to only those who were prized / cherished enough to learn the octaves of bass / treble. But not many found the time to devote to understanding the angel’s whispers, so they waded their time elsewhere, in other skills and traits , but a righteous few devoted themselves to the cords , and with understanding befell wisdom of the time before written word . The bards were blessed by the faceless victors of heaven , and it made your heart swell at the idea of one day joining the ranks of the coven of histories , to retell stories of the wise and great with the silver tongues kissed into patient mouths by the Seraphims .

                    You sit , patient and quiet as you study your histories , till you could recite word for word the fabricated truth that the titan deemed ‘ correct  ’ but here in the library , correct was upside-down, wrong was the way to go. You’re a golden guard, so a clarinet is not what your hands should wield. Your hands hold callouses from a staff , but with the scars and precision that is blessed to your trembling digits , you aren’t afraid to hold the delicate wooden instrument in hidden palms , staring over it in wonder.

            your eyes glint to befall the coven head , as if questioning their motives in this moment , but you cant hide the shimmering light that rolls forth like a early tide crested by the rising sun. You can read almost what this gift is , just as the three wisemen gifted to Jesus items of great wealth , the songbird you were watching from your gilded cage to learn how to fly has done the same . 

             “    is.. is  this mine  ?   ”

unprompted / @rhpsdys​​​

[audrey-emeralds]

☾︎*·˚character list˚·*☽︎

tv shows

13 reasons why - clay jensen, hannah baker, justin foley, scott reed, jeff atkins, zach dempsey

american horror story - tate langdon, violet harmon, kit walker

criminal minds - spencer reid, aaron hutcher, jennifer jareu , penelope garcia, derek morgan

euphoria - rue bennett, jules vaughn, maddy perez, lexi howard, cassie howard, fezco, kat hernandez, nate jacobs

game of thrones - robb stark, jaime lannister, cersei lannister, sansa stark, theon greyjoy, arthur dayne, daenerys targaryen, oberyn martell

peaky blinders - thomas shelby, arthur shelby, john shelby, michael grey, finn shelby

the tudors - henry viii, charles brandon, anne boleyn

the vampire diaries - kai parker, klaus mikaelson, katherine pierce, stefan salvatore, damon salvatore

outer banks - jj maybank, rafe cameron, sarah cameron

you - joe goldberg

blood of zeus - heron, apollo, ares, hermes, hera, seraphim

movies

10 things i hate about you - patrick verova

american psycho - patrick bateman

fantastic beast series - newt scamander, theseus scamander

harry potter films - harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, charlie weasley, oliver wood, draco malfoy, theodore nott, fred weasley, george weasley, tom riddle, remus lupin, bill weasley, dean thomas, ginny weasley, luna lovegood, neville longbutton, narcissa malfoy, blaise zabini, sirius black, james potter, peter pettigrew, regulus black, lily evans, pansy parkinson, seamus finnegan, percy weasley, cormic mclaggen, adrian pucey, cedric diggory

jennifer's body - jennifer check

king arthur: legend of the sword - king arthur

scream - bill loomis, sidney prescott

terror train - doc manley

the conjuring: the devil made me do it - arne johnson

the fault in our stars - hazel lancaster and augustus waters

the king - henry v, the dauphin

the maze runner - thomas, newt, gally

diary of a wiphy kid - rodrick heffley

jeepers creepers - darry jenner

celebrites

actors/actresses - andrew garfield, chris evans, tom hardy, tom hiddleston, tom holland, timothee chalamet, robert pattinson, ben barnes, christian bale, henry cavill, sebastian stan, heath ledger, dylan o'brien, charlie hunnam, barry keoghan, scarlett johansson, zendaya, cillian murphy, louis partridge, christian coulson, thomas doherty, austin butler, brad pitt, matt dillon, adrien brody, angelina jolie, megan fox

singers - harry styles, alex turner, zayn malik, ariana grande, lana del rey, taylor swift, the weekend

[author-a-holmes]

Writeblr Introduction

Greetings!

I thought it was about time I put together a proper Writeblr Intro Post.

My name is Arista, or Ari, but as long as it's polite I'll answer to pretty much anything. I'm an English writer in her 30's, currently living with my cat Litha, my dog Bumble, and my mother-turned-flatmate.

I am a voracious reader, and although I dabble in writing all sorts of genres, I always seem to cycle back round to Fantasy of some sort. It's very clearly where my heart lies.

To find out more about me, please check out my About Me page on my tumblr, or shoot me an ask! I'm always open to questions, asks or tag-games.

A brief run down on my current Works in Progress can be found below the cut, along with relevant Tags, and an @-list.

If you'd like to be added to any of my lists, then please leave a message on this post.

(Edit: Apparently my "#Tag Game" tag isn't showing any posts when I search my blog, so I've made a Masterlist Page with direct links...)

Taglist for Tag-Games

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Relevant Tags: #Tag Game

Taglist For My Writing Exercises

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Relevant Tags: #Writing Exercise

Stolen is the first book in the "Stolen Stories" Fantasy Romance series. The series will follow the journey of Stella Korazon as she fights to find her place in the ever turbulent world of Moryann.

Official Blurb

It had been a long couple of weeks for Stella Korazon.

When a simple pickpocket job goes horribly wrong and sends her entire life spinning into chaos, Stella must figure out how to navigate the treacherous world of Moryann alone.

Finding herself in the City of Antillune Stella is quickly pulled into the middle of a brewing war between two thieves guilds when a recruiter for the guild known as Vine coerces her into stealing from their rival, Guild Master Mosswolf.

Surrounded on all side by rogues, liars, spies and betrayal, it's a constant struggle to know who she should trust, but standing in the heart of it all, can she find somewhere, or someone, to call home?

Relevant Tags

#Stolen #A Stolen Story #Stolen A Stolen Story #Stella #Stella Korazon #Reilly #Reilly Mosswolf

Taglist For Stolen

@/josephinegerardywriter , @/strangerays

Current Status

First draft complete. 32 chapters, 146k. Currently undergoing edits, and I'm working on Chapter 3 right now - Updated May 23rd 2021

Takeover is the second book in the "Stolen Stories" series. Set several months after the end of book one, the rival guild Vine is beginning to cause trouble within the City of Antillune once more, threatening the peace Stella has found within Reilly's guild.

Relevant Tags

#Takeover #A Stolen Story #Takeover A Stolen Story #Stella #Stella Korazon #Reilly #Reilly Mosswolf

Taglist For Takeover

@/strangerays

Current Status

First Draft being written. Currently on Chapter 11 of an estimated 32. Wordcount sitting at; 41k - Updated May 23rd 2021

EFey Touched is my project for July Camp Nano 2021. It's a YA Paranormal Romance about a young Fey, Lizzy Hail who decides to leave the Fey realm for the mortal realm to find her mother, who recently went missing.

She drags along her best friend, Booker Reed, but the mortal realm isn't only home to humans, but also Vampires and their insane cousins, the Kavian. Lizzy and Booker quickly find themselves entangled in the world of the vampires, high school and budding romance, all the while still determined to track down Lizzy's mother.

Relevant Tags

#Fey Touched #Lila Isabelle Hail #Lizzy Hail #Booker Reed #Andric Roche #July Camp Nano 2021

Taglist For Fey Touched

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Current Status

First Draft being written. I'm doing an update on Tumblr every time I complete a chapter (Tag; #Fey Touched). Since this is a Camp Nano project, it's moving pretty quickly and I'm hoping to get the first draft (66k words) finished by the end of July.

Projects on Hiatus

An Urban Fantasy Romance Interactive Fiction project that I work on intermittently when I need a break from the world of Stolen.

Blurb

When the demons broke into our world from their realm, and the covens joined their powers together to trap them within a single city, your training as a witch got put on the back burner.

Still, untrained though you may be, you cannot help but use your magic to assist a young woman and her son when they are being harassed by demons.

Should you walk away? Yes. Do you? No.

That decision propels you into the center of events. The woman you save is a Seraphim and the demons want her dead.

Why they are hunting all Seraphims within the city, you don't yet know, but what you do know is that the Covens are rapidly running out of time if they intend to banish the demons forever.

Relevant Tags

#WotW #WOTW Interactive Fiction #Words of the Witches IF #Dashingdon #Choice Script

Taglist For WotW

Empty

Current Status

Slow going because this is a side project. I'm about 1/4 of the way through the prologue, but a lot of coding happened in the first few thousand words, due to entering in variable genders for the four romance options - Updated May 23rd 2021

[dustymagpie]

[liminal-zone]

working on something. fingers crossed.

fic: an offering made by fire (WIP)

summary: Claire Novak’s fathers are dead. And she’s going to burn the entire world to bring them back. (Canon compliant to 15x20, from a certain point of view.)

her eyes open. it’s been over a decade since she burned with the grace of a seraphim. now the voices of angels are ashes in the wind and castiel no longer answers her prayers.

(“he is gone,” sam tells her in the same breath as he says “and dean--”)

her fathers are dead. 

the flame inside of her is waning, a ghost of what it was, and she is cold, so very, very cold, shivering in the absence. and she will stop at nothing but to give the flame what it needs -- oxygen, kindling, fuel. she will bring them all back if only to feel warm again.

*

kaia holds her close, and her warmth helps but does not heal. “you’re angry,” she says. 

“i’m going to burn the whole world to--”

“you’re angry, but that doesn’t mean you have to fix it. it doesn’t mean you can fix it,” she says.

(it doesn’t mean it needs fixing, a whisper says)

“it’s wrong and it’s not fair and what if they never knew--” 

she weeps, fat tears hot on her cheeks and damp on her shirt. kaia clings tighter. 

she doesn’t say: i wish i wasn’t this body, wasn’t human, wasn’t meant to be locked in this useless flesh. if i was an angel, i could-- 

*

if i was castiel again, i would--

*

sam lets her in the bunker, lets her research on her own -- he’s paralyzed by grief, unable to stay, unable to point her in the right direction. he is keeping secrets, lying by omission. but his grief is real; she can taste the soot in her mouth. 

so she prays. there must be an angel alive, there must be something that can help her. 

her fingers run along the carving of castiel’s name in the wood. help me, she prays. you can’t be dead, you can’t be. 

*

she dreams of a lake, a big broad expanse of water and reeds and fish and sand. it smells fresh and green, alive and welcoming. she could sit on the pier and dip her toes in, or wade out for a swim, or just listen to the gentle sound of water and wind. but she knows, somehow, that this is theirs. she is trespassing on something special, sacred. this is dean’s, she thinks, and castiel stood here, often. watching. this is a place that holds memory. holds something akin to love. the sun overhead is warm, and she can feel it on her skin. 

Father, she says. 

hello, claire, a voice says. and her eyes fly open.

[doctorofmagic]

Strange Book Club - Week 3 - Review and Discussion of “Doctor Strange and Doctor Doom - Triumph and Torment”

I will apologize in advance for my failure at repressing my emotions. You see, this one is very special to me on so many levels. It was one of the first comic books I ever bought in my life. Coincidence or not, I bought it along with Books of Doom, mostly because I wanted to learn more about Victor after reading the first Secret Wars. Little did I know that they would share another Secret Wars years later. It was meant to be. Also, it’s still one of my favorite stories. Besides, I recently learned that it’s one of Gerry Duggan’s too. Well, that certainly explains why Stephen and Victor’s relationship is so perfectly portrayed in Savage Avengers. He learned from the best. Alright, excuses done, let’s begin.

We start the story with Genghis and his acolyte. He evokes the memory of meeting a young Victor von Doom after the accident which scarred his face for good. Genghis, being a grumpy troll as usual, refuses to teach him, but tells Victor about an order of monks hidden in high Tibet that could teach him. The monks, as we see later, helped Victor build the (in)famous armor which he wears for the rest of his life.

The next morning, a young Stephen visits Genghis and finds him lying on the floor. Their destinies were separated by mere hours.

“A meeting shall yet come to pass... But not for years.” Honestly, MANY, MANY years, for in our real time, it took Stephen 26 years to meet Victor. At least, it was worth it. (on a side note, considering T&T does not take place in a specific period of time, I came up with a theory to find out their first meeting. And I believe it’s indeed T&T! Ask me about it any time and I’ll explain in details :v)

Very well. When the flashback is over, Genghis feels it’s time for him to fulfill the calling of the Vishanti once more. He travels to the Temple of the Three and summons those sensitive to the occult arts. The voice reaches both Doom and Stephen - and of course, Stephen would be sleeping.

From this moment on, we follow Stephen’s POV. He decides to travel through ordinary means since there’s a psychic undertone regarding Genghis’ summoning. It takes him nearly a whole day but he finally reaches his destination.

Inside the temple, many sorcerers welcome him and praise his skills. You may ask me where’s Wanda or Daimon. Well, at that time, Wanda was still learning magic with Agatha. As to Daimon, I believe he’s more connected to Hell itself. There is an alternate future where he becomes Sorcerer Supreme, though.

After a dramatic entrance (of course), Doom is the last to approach the group. Genghis then explains that the Vishanti granted him knowledge in exchange of gathering the sorcerers around the globe once every hundred years for a contest to decide who’s fit to become the Sorcerer Supreme.

For the winner, a boom is granted (there’s a catch, though, which is quite expected from them. We’ll get there). Everyone agrees to stay, however Doom faces resistance. He then takes his gauntlets off, disabling his technologic attributes and reassuring the wary contender. Except, we’re dealing with Doctor Doom here. He always has a card up his sleeve (Stephen’s words, by the way).

Finally, the contest begins when Genghis and the Vishanti materialize themselves in the form a crystal, challeging the sorcerers to free them. Some try to attack the crystal directly, which is obviously the worst option of all.

The crystal not only deflects the energy blasts, but also fires back, putting the sorcerers into a sort of trance and forcing them to attack the rest of the group. Stephen only defends himself with the Shield of the Seraphim, while Doom uses his technology to analyze and copy the contenders’ spells, learning and using them soon afterwards. As expected, only the two of them remain in the end.

I just need to point something very important here. Victor’s definitely not the type of person who flatters other people. His ego rivals Tony’s, Reed’s and Namor’s altogether, so it’s quite inconceivable to believe that he acknowledges Stephen’s skills. He would never admit that someone is capable of besting him. And yet, here we are.

However, there can be only one Sorcerer Supreme. And Doom knows it. That’s why he attacks Stephen right after such a praise. We’ll never know if he was playing a game to gain Stephen’s trust and let his guard down or... He was really praising Stephen. All I know is that Victor once considered becoming his apprentice when Clea left, mmmm.

I mean, Doom did call Stephen an “artist”... Alright, focus, back to the story. Of course, the good doctor would win this brawl. He isn’t called the master of the mystic arts for nothing. (funny thing, tho. In Savage Avengers #8, Doom succeeds in seizing Stephen with the same spell. Talk about magic improvement, uh?)

Finally, when Stephen’s the only one left, he has some time to ponder what to do next. The crystal keeps firing blasts at him, so he unleashes his astral form since it’s faster than his body, and decides to use the Eye of Agamotto. As you know, Agamotto is part of the Vishanti, so he isn’t sure that’s a good idea. But the contest is not about might, and thus he succeeds. His astral form touches the crystal, releasing Genghis. Stephen is the winner!

Stephen was the Sorcerer Supreme before the contest, so nothing’s changed. As for the boon... Little did he know that the winner is supposed to grant it to the sorcerers who evaded all Vishanti’s attacks. In this case, only Doom prevailed. Stephen is not pleased, though. He’s aware of Doom’s misdeeds, and he’s not willing to help him spread evil.

But this is not what Doom seeks. And here’s the first clue that he's not a hallow villain driven by hallow, petty motivations. He could’ve asked Stephen to defeat the Fantastic Four, or to become ruler of the world. Instead, he asks him to save his mother’s soul from Mephisto’s realm. You see, Doom is as deep as Stephen. And the Sorcerer Supreme immediately reevaluates his tone.

Genghis’ duty is fulfilled and the temple crumbles. After a dramatic escape, Victor invites Stephen to come to Latveria. Aaaaand that’s when the second act (the best in my opinion) begins.

When they arrive at Doomstadt, a big parade welcomes them. Here’s another interesting point that I adore. Old comics Doom usually doesn’t care about his people. He sees them as mere subjects and doesn’t hesitate to use them when he sees fit. But Bronze Age Doom, as well as some current interpretations of his character, shows that he loves his people, no matter how twisted his love is. More than that, Latverians also love him back. And Stephen comes in to back up my opinion. If the girl was hiding her true emotions, he’d notice it. Do you know who else has faith in Doom’s kindness? Valeria Richards. I rest my case.

In Castle Doom, we start learning more about Victor’s mother. Her name was Cynthia von Doom and many of her incantations were recorded on her diary. Stephen is touched and wonders why Victor never requested his aid. As expected, Victor’s too proud to beg.

Boris then escorts Stephen to his room. But Boris is the kind of man who can’t resist a good gossip. So he suddendly unlocks the whole tragic backstory of Cynthia and Victor in the meantime!! Friendly reminder that Boris did the same thing to a journalist, but locked her forever in the dungeons of Castle Doom as soon as he was finished. See how Stephen is special?

So, basically Cynthia’s tribe was being target of the cruel Baron of Latveria, so she drew Mephisto’s attention through a ritual and made a pact with him in order to have power enough to defeat the Baron. She then went to the village and unleashed her wraith upon the soldiers, but for every spell, there was a cost, obviously. And the price was the lives of innocent children of the village. Regretting her actions, Cynthia rejected her new powers just before she was stabbed by a soldier. She tried to run away, but died in the woods, in her husband’s arms, but not before asking him to protect Victor from magic.

Werner, Victor’s father, tried to dispose of Cyntia’s trunk, but it always came back magically. The Baron once again turned his attention to the gipsy community because of Werner’s healing powers. He and Victor tried to run away, however they ended up trapped in the middle of a hailstorm. Werner died and Victor barely made it out alive. Enraged, Victor swore he would avenge their parents. He later found Cynthia’s diary and started performing magic. He was also very intelligent and eager to consume knowledge, which drew the attention of an American professor.

Victor then left his country to attend the university. There, he met Reed Richards, and they soon became rivals. Victor was determined to unite magic and technology in order to contact his mother. When the experiment failed and scarred his face for good, he blamed Reed and started his mystic journey, just like Stephen. Lastly, he returned to Latveria and conquered the country. But he never managed to free Cynthia’s soul.

Boris, sweetheart. You said too much. We learn that Doom was watching them the whole time, so one may think: “Oh, no! They will die after that!!”

But Doom loves Boris too much for that. And he needs Stephen. So, yeah. Stephen knows Victor’s vulnerable side. That’s a thing now.

Finally, they begin their study. They can’t go unprepared, after all.

And after 45, I repeat, forty-five days of hard work, studying and practicing magic side by side, they are ready to go to hell and face the devil.

Doom demands to fight him for her mother’s soul. Mephisto, on the other hand, is way too powerful to be defeated that easy. He casts them away as he keeps observing their steps. He’s surprised at the fact that Doom overcame his pride and allowed himself to cooperate with another person. They may represent a threat, after all. So Mephisto decides to separate them.

Following his plan, the demon shows Doom how he’s torturing Stephen emotionally, forcing him to relive his previous life before magic, including the car accident and all the pain that came with it. When he finds Kamar-Taj, though, a monk says that the Ancient One has passed away. Stephen refuses to believe that, and he fights the illusion until the Eye of Agamotto shines once again on his neck, breaking him free.

I believe this part is very important. Mostly because Stephen is constantly taunted by enemies who explore his fears. Even when he was at his worst and Khats nearly made him give up on hope, Stephen overcame his fears and insecurities by embracing them. Stephen is a believer. He may doubt his own abilities when it comes to people, but he will never give up. He’s that stubborn. And this is me, praising him one more time.

Also, remember when I said that Stephen learned about Victor’s most vulnerable side? The opposite just happened when Doom watched Stephen’s deepest fears. And Victor is now certain that Mephisto can’t break them as long as they fight together.

However, Mephisto is not the king of hell for nothing. He then offers Victor the world. Doom denies it, he always wanted to conquer it by his own merits. So Mephisto plays dirty, showing him Cynthia’s soul. He says that they can make an exchange. Her soul for Stephen’s.

A curious note: years later, in Bendis’ Infamous Iron Man, we would learn why Mephisto wanted Stephen’s soul so badly. The reason is basically that Stephen is too good to go to hell. Mephisto will never touch his soul. More than that, it’s very likely that Stephen will become one with the universe when he dies, just like the Ancient One. So yup, he can’t have it.

Back to the story, Stephen is still fighting hordes of demons when he sees Doom being carried by some of them. He’s afraid that it’s another illusion, but the Eye of Agamotto confirms it’s the real Doom. What the Eye fails to notice is the trap meant to its bearer. Stephen is betrayed :’(

Mephisto imprisons Stephen in a crystal and returns Cynthia’s soul into a body. It seems the Sorcerer Supreme will be forever trapped in hell while Doom gets away. However, Mephisto is not done yet. He knows that Cynthia won’t be part of such betrayal.

Hope is lost. Unless... Hear me out. Doom’s a softie and I’ll prove it.

Doom never betrayed Stephen!! AAAAAA!! It was all planned so he could deceive the prince of lies!! AAAA!! Together, they strike again. Yet, Mephisto’s too strong, too powerful. They stand no chance against him.

Stephen erects the Shield of the Seraphim and protects Doom and his mother’s effigy. They will certainly lose if they don’t act quickly. So Stephen has an idea. He intends to release Cynthia’s soul. When she refused to be part of a betrayal, her soul was forgiven. She now shines brilliantly before Mephisto, blinding him.

Cynthia ascends to Heaven, and Mephisto can’t claim her anymore. He can’t claim Stephen’s and Doom’s as well, for they would die as heroes. Frustrated, he casts Stephen and Victor out of his realm.

Back to Castle Doom, both doctors seemed battered. But Doom refuses Stephen’s aid this time. He’s done, and although his mother was saved, he will never see her again. She will never know that he was not a traitor.

The story really seems to end with a melancholy atmosphere. It’s just natural, given the circumstances. However, this is not the end for Stephen and Victor. Their bond didn’t find its conclusion with this story. On the contrary, it’s only the beginning.

The first time happens when Stephen saves Doom’s soul after Thanos’ assault in Infinity War. They will meet again at the end of the world in Secret Wars and they will build a new world together (literally. I mean literally). Despite the tragic conclusion, Stephen will help Victor once more against Mephisto in Infamous Iron Man, and then in Savage Avengers against Kulan Gath.

Honestly, Triumph and Torment is not only a classic masterpiece. Until this very day, writers refer to it when they want to write Stephen and Doom. You want some current examples? Cantwell’s Doctor Doom, Duggan’s Savage Avengers, Howard’s Strikeforce, all from 2019-2020. Also, in New Mutants v3, Stephen is talking to a Latverian woman in her native language. He... He learned Latverian... It’s canon.

Triumph and Torment is a MUST READ. And I’m so thankful for that. I love their relationship. I love how it evolved from T&T and it became stronger with time. Stephen’s fundamental to Secret Wars because he represents the moment that Doom loses himself to his own demons. When he lost Stephen, he lost his ground and balance.

They may fight when they have opposite interests, but Stephen will always believe in him. That’s why everyone in the whole world doubted that Victor could amend his mistakes and take Tony’s legacy. Everyone but Stephen. They... They have a history. And it began here. It couldn’t be a better start.

---

I really tried to control myself, I hope it showed. As usual, I’d like to thank everyone who supported this project and joined me, whether leaving reviews, replies, reblogging my posts or just reading comics in the shadows! Later this day I will make a post to reply you all. Tomorrow (23) I’ll announce the next reading. In case no one recommends a story, I’ll pick one myself. But please feel free to recommend any stories! I just ask they’re 4 issues tops because, you know, I write too much and this will never change - I’m sorry.

PS: I’ve heard rumors that some comics are coming next week. But don’t you worry, we’ll do another week of Strange Book Club. In case they’re released, I’ll post them the next day. The book club has become my child at this point.

Thank you!

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Mon., June, 29, 2020

Saint Tikhon Bishop of Amathus in Cyprus

Saint Tikhon, Bishop of Amathus, was born in the city Amathus on the island of Cyprus. His parents raised their son in Christian piety, and taught him the reading of sacred books. It is said that the gift of wonderworking appeared in Saint Tikhon at quite a young age.

His father was the owner of a bakery, and whenever he left his son alone in the shop, the holy youth would give free bread to those in need. Learning of this, his father became angry, but the son said that he had read in the Scriptures, that in giving to God one receives back a hundredfold. “I,” said the youth, “gave to God the bread which was taken,” and he persuaded his father to go to the place where the grain was stored. With astonishment the father saw that the granary, which formerly was empty, was now filled to overflowing with wheat. From that time the father did not hinder his son from distributing bread to the poor.

A certain gardener brought the dried prunings of vines from the vineyard. Saint Tikhon gathered them, planted them in his garden and besought the Lord that these branches might take root and yield fruit for the health of people. The Lord did so through the faith of the holy youth. The branches took root, and their fruit had a particular and very pleasant taste. It was used during the lifetime of the saint and after his death for making wine for the Mystery of the Holy Eucharis...keep reading OCA

Venerable Moses of Optina

Saint Moses (Putilov) was born on January 15, 1782 in the city of Borisogleb in the Yaroslavl province, and was baptized with the name Timothy. His siblings were called Jonah, Basil, Cyril, Anysia, and Alexander. John Putilov named all his children after the saint commemorated on the eighth day after their birth, so the future Saint Moses was named for the holy Apostle Timothy of the Seventy (January 22). The children were educated at home, since their parents feared they would be corrupted in some way if they were sent away to school.

When Timothy was nineteen, his father sent him and his younger brother Jonah to work in Moscow. While in Moscow they met the Elders Alexander and Philaret of the Novospassky Monastery, who had spiritual ties to Saint Paisius Velichkovsky (November 15). Through their aquaintance with these two ascetics of piety, the brothers decided that they also wished to become monks. In May of 1805 they visited the Sarov monastery (which their widowed brother-in-law Cosmas Krundishev had entered in November 1804) and spoke with Saint Seraphim (January 2). The brothers remained at Sarov for two and a half years. At first they were assigned to the bakery, and then to other obediences.

In 1811, following the advice of Hieromonk Alexis of Moscow’s Simonov Monastery, Timothy went to live with the hermits of the Roslavl forests. There he was placed under the guidance of Elder Athanasius, a disciple of Saint Paisius Velichkovsky. In time, he received the monastic tonsure from Father Athanasius and was named Moses. His sponsor at his tonsure was Elder Dositheus, who had lived in the Rostov forests for forty years.

Alexander, the youngest brother of Father Moses, came to the Roslavl forest on January 15, 1816 to share the life of the monks. Four years later, he was tonsured with the name Anthony. He was placed in the care of Father Moses, to whom he remained obedient for the rest of his life.

In 1821 Bishop Philaret of Kaluga (later Metropolitan of Kiev) suggested that the Putilov brothers move to the Optina Hermitage with a few monks and establish a skete near the monastery, where they could live in greater solitude. Saints Moses and Anthony arrived at Optina on July 6, 1822 to begin their labors. Their first task was to clear away some trees from the place they had chosen, and to uproot the stumps. They built a small cell and enclosed it with a fence, and also built a church dedicated to Saint John the Baptist...keep reading OCA

Romans 9:18-33 NKJV

Therefore He has mercy on whom He wills, and whom He wills He hardens.

19 You will say to me then, “Why does He still find fault? For who has resisted His will?” 20 But indeed, O man, who are you to reply against God? Will the thing formed say to him who formed it, “Why have you made me like this?” 21 Does not the potter have power over the clay, from the same lump to make one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?

22 What if God, wanting to show His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath prepared for destruction, 23 and that He might make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, which He had prepared beforehand for glory, 24 even us whom He called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles?

25 As He says also in Hosea:

“I will call them My people, who were not My people, And her beloved, who was not beloved.” 26 “And it shall come to pass in the place where it was said to them, ‘You are not My people,’ There they shall be called sons of the living God.”

27 Isaiah also cries out concerning Israel:

“Though the number of the children of Israel be as the sand of the sea, The remnant will be saved. 28 For [a]He will finish the work and cut it short in righteousness, Because the Lord will make a short work upon the earth.”

29 And as Isaiah said before:

“Unless the Lord of [b]Sabaoth had left us a seed, We would have become like Sodom, And we would have been made like Gomorrah.”

Present Condition of Israel

30 What shall we say then? That Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have attained to righteousness, even the righteousness of faith; 31 but Israel, pursuing the law of righteousness, has not attained to the law [c]of righteousness. 32 Why? Because they did not seek it by faith, but as it were, [d]by the works of the law. For they stumbled at that stumbling stone. 33 As it is written:

“Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling stone and rock of offense, And whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame.”

Footnotes:

Romans 9:28 NU the Lord will finish the work and cut it short upon the earth

Romans 9:29 Lit., in Heb., Hosts

Romans 9:31 NU omits of righteousness

Romans 9:32 NU by works, omitting of the law

Matthew 11:2-15 NKJV

2 And when John had heard in prison about the works of Christ, he [a]sent two of his disciples 3 and said to Him, “Are You the Coming One, or do we look for another?”

4 Jesus answered and said to them, “Go and tell John the things which you hear and see: 5 The blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them.6 And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me.”

7 As they departed, Jesus began to say to the multitudes concerning John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? 8 But what did you go out to see? A man clothed in soft garments? Indeed, those who wear soft clothing are in kings’ houses. 9 But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I say to you, and more than a prophet. 10 For this is he of whom it is written:

‘Behold, I send My messenger before Your face, Who will prepare Your way before You.’

11 “Assuredly, I say to you, among those born of women there has not risen one greater than John the Baptist; but he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. 12 And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. 13 For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John. 14 And if you are willing to receive it, he is Elijah who is to come. 15 He who has ears to hear, let him hear!

Footnotes:

Matthew 11:2 NU sent by his

New King James Version

(NKJV)

Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. All rights reserved.

Source Biblegateway

[chaoticsoulsword]

Mmmmm, would you just look at the time? It's prompt time!

[tw: depression]

Stephen is in his Sanctum, it’s just another regular day. Yet, he feels devastated by loneliness. It has intensified in the past couple of days, result of the recent losses in his life. Guilt, self-loathing, pain, they all worsened his depressed state of mind.

It's night and he's trying really hard to keep himself composed. He feels like sinking into a pit of darkness, bottomless and suffocating. The radiance in his eyes is long gone. They only gleam when tears reflect light. And they’re coming. The sorcerer can feel it.

Resist. Resist, Stephen curls up on his bad, wrapping his arms around his legs. However, those thoughts feel like famished ghosts, haunting the host as an attempt of self-destruction. He thinks of Clea, and Wong, and Zelma. He thinks of how many people he has hurt through his life, physically or not. He doesn’t deserve love. He doesn’t deserve to be the Sorcerer Supreme. The only reason he still carries the burden is because, unfortunately, he’s still the most powerful user of magic on Earth.

Even so, saving lives is not enough to atone his sins. Finally, the pain strikes his heart and soul. His hands shake more than usual. It doesn’t feel like the habitual pain. He wishes it does. No, this time it feels overwhelming, aching like a burning hell of misery and despair.

Stephen gave in. It’s too much. Tears are the only thing capable of easing the pain, making him feel real and alive. Everything else seems fluid, abstract. There was also the fact that the sorcerer couldn’t send it away magically. The last time he sought such easy solution, he literally created a monster in his attic.

Luckily, he would soon grow tired, and the gentle touch of the Sandman would make it all go away, as a long past moment forgotten in time.

However, Stephen was not a lucky man. Magic is unbalanced. Someone is abusing of its power, mostly for evil. The sorcerer takes a deep breath, wipes the tears from his eyes and waves his hands, getting dressed and covered by his Cloak of Levitation.

He leaves the Sanctum, levitating towards the source. He sights a green energy on the horizon, its intensity increasing. He recognizes the energy. In fact, it’s quite familiar.

The place is the Baxter Building. The Fantastic Four is on the ground, defeated. Standing, there is Doctor Doom, ready to strike the last blow. Stephen knows that the ruler of Latveria is waiting for someone to stop him. Victor couldn’t afford having Reed Richards killed. Otherwise, his life would be meaningless, even though he would never admit it.

“Victor, I thought you have changed,” the sorcerer floats towards the villain, his tone disheartened. The man before him even took Tony Stark’s legacy once.

“Change is an understatement, sorcerer.”

Their dynamics have also changed. They’ve grown distant from one another, colder even. Victor has built an armor to protect him from harm, yet it also deprived him of kindness, and love.

The only man who once touched Doom’s heart was no longer capable of reaching him. It was just another failure in Stephen’s life. The sorcerer felt the weight increasing within, his heart becoming heavier and heavier.

It was a fierce battle, though. Stephen cast his best, most powerful spells. However, he was indeed tired, and his mind was doubtful. A sorcerer needs a clear state of mind in order to channel magic. Otherwise, they will fail. Stephen, as the Sorcerer Supreme, was still capable of conjuring and materilizing magic. On the other hand, its effectiveness was shameful.

For this very reason, Doom soon drained Stephen. The Shield of Seraphim, his last resource, was broken. He was entirely vulnerable, in more senses than Victor could imagine. The ruthless man finally approached his enemy. The word was even more painful when their background once considered they were very close partners. The sorcerer was on the ground, panting.

Doom kneeled before him. His cold steel fingers wrapped Stephen’s neck, squeezing and lifting his body in mid-air. The sorcerer was too weak to fight back. In fact, he was exhausted. His breathe was heavy, his lungs desperate for air as Victor’s fingers tightened their grasp harder and harder.

One last time, the sorcerer gazed at the ruler’s eyes behind the mask. He saw no soul, no feeling on them, no regret from the last time the same episode happened. It hurt him deeply, all that pain consuming, swallowing him entirely. Stephen then made up his mind. Some tears rolled down over his face as he closed his eyes, resigned.

I’m sorry, Victor. I’ve failed you.

Somehow, Stephen’s thoughts unintentionally reached Doom’s mind. Victor realized the sorcerer craved that. He magically had a glimpse of his pit of darkness and pain, and for a split second, he felt all that despair. The light in his eyes returned, and his heart ached as empathy took over.

Victor loosened his grap until he finally set Stephen free, leaving him on the ground once more.

“I cannot give you what you seek,” he turned his back on the defeated sorcerer, walking away as his cape swayed with the wind.

“You are... indeed... the most ruthless man I’ve ever met...” Stephen cried, his voice wrecked. “You had a glimpse of my soul... and still decided to walk away... when you could have ended it all. How could you? You’re really... a monster...”

Stephen’s words were like razors, cutting Victor’s heart. He never meant to be a monster, not to him. The sorcerer saw the ruler’s deepest side. He saw virtues, and he tried his very best in order to nourish them. Stephen knew Victor like no one else did. And it pained him.

“I have little concern of your impressions towards me, Strange,” the man replied. “Even so, this small portion within still compels me to act.”

Victor then turned once more and headed to the sorcerer. He kneeled again and touched Stephen’s face with both hands. Lastly, a spell came out from his mouth and a flash of light emerged from their respective eyes. All faded to black.

                                                           ---

Stephen woke up on his bed in the Sanctum. He instinctively measured the magical balance on Earth in a hurry. It was restored. The sorcerer then turned his attention to himself. His body was still aching like hell, but his heart was... lighter, somehow.

Lastly, he recalled Victor’s words. He recognized the spell. Its purpose was sharing burdens. For some reason, Victor drained part of Stephen’s pain. There was still some left, of course. Even so, the gesture was wholesome. The sorcerer touched his chest and smiled.

He still can be saved.