#stone having a spiritual experience behind him

[kellterntempest]

the Best™ frame in Sonic 2

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[postmodernbeliever]

lifetimes and lifetimes - fox mulder x fem!witch reader

not every witch needs spells and stones to relive the past, or predict the future. in your opinion, the craft is much simpler than that- what is meant to be yours comes to you, at the right time. and the right thing does come, in the shape of a tall, curious fbi agent. it doesn't take long to learn just who fox mulder is to you- and that it seems you two always find each other, in every lifetime.

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this one is dedicated to @spookybasementboy bc they asked for it :))  i took some creative liberty because i’m not much of a witch myself- i was inspired by the past life situation in the season 4 ep “the field where i died” but also wanted to make sure i made it mystical, so i used a sort of invocation/prayer and vision experiences. but really i wanted to have an amalgamation of a witch and a regular person, who truly is a product of “coincidences”, run into our handsome little fox. i think it came out kinda cool. unlike anything i've written. ok ill stop explaining and let you read. <3

my ao3 | word count: 5,041

content tags: wicca, not too witchy but has spiritual experiences, mentions of bodily blood/gore, past lives, flashbacks, idiots in love, stress, fear, anxiety, slow romance, you both fall hard FAST but it’s gotta be slow!!!!!!!!!!

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special agent fox mulder believes in everything. he doesn’t know how not to, not with everything he’s seen in his lifetime. because of this blind faith, he gets himself in constant trouble. it was the first thing you noticed about him as he handcuffed you to the chair in the police station bullpen, that he was trouble, but in a good way. in the way that without having said a word, you felt he could turn your life upside down. even in a state of shock, you could sense that.

you sat like a prisoner, eyes shut as agent mulder settled into the desk chair opposite you. behind your eyelids, you relived flashes of moments from not even an hour prior. there was blood and bullets; you tasted wood, glass, screams, more blood. you remembered the red eyes, and the way bodies flooded beneath the pews, the sound of skulls cracking against the cold tile. you remembered reciting the only prayer that you could remember, the first one you learned when you left the church at 18. you felt the wiry carpet burning your elbows as you crawled away. you heard their voices repeating, “baruch hashem, baruch hashem, baruch hashem…” you remembered being chased, and after that, nothing else. as you awaited what surely was to become your interrogation you began to pray again, because it felt like you had no other means of safety. the earth is my mother, i shall not want…

“so, you like to run, huh?” the man teased, easing into his questioning. 

agent mulder’s authority was practically dripping from him- tailored suit, slack tie, blue and white badge screaming from his pocket. the print of his gun pressed against the black holster which flashed enticingly behind his coat. you saw power in his eyes, and a boyish attitude in his smile as he awaited your response. he was an understated kind of handsome. the kind that snuck up on you.

you winced as you shifted in the chair, and the man watched you tremble, suspicious of your state. maybe it’s drugs, he thought, but he quickly rescinded that. you just didn’t seem like the type. to the naked eye, you were healthy; plump arms and legs, round cheeks, secretive eyes. you were an intriguing sight, and not just because of your clothes. chained to a chair, your curling tendrils of hair and berry lipstick looked so out of place in a dirty, bustling environment like the one in which you both sat. he saw a girl adorned in earthy colors both muted enough to communicate a soft darkness, and bright enough to draw people to it. the beat-to-shit brown boots on your sleepy feet showed how long you’ve been drifting by, living alone. silver ornamented your neck and ears and poised hands, and agent mulder liked how it contrasted the tarnished handcuffs. you were battered from the events of your evening, with deep cuts in your hands and knees, and bloody scrapes all over your body, taking turns sharing skin with the bruises. you were a dichotomous girl, giving him every reason to be curious; yet all personal inquiries aside, agent mulder had a job to do. he had caught you fleeing a crime scene, after all. 

something in his gut wanted to release you, to let you float right out the front door and back to wherever you came from; but in his chronic open-mindedness, he couldn’t be sure if you weren’t tricking him some way into feeling that. so he kept you locked tight and facing him, eagerly awaiting your statement. 

“running is for the guilty, agent mulder.”

“well, i had to chase you down, didn’t i?”

“who says you decide what i’m guilty of?”

the agent turned to the computer and opened a statement file, deciding to take yours himself. “what’s your name, miss?”

“which one? i have a few.”

“whichever one i can find in an official file somewhere in this pigsty,” he grinned. 

“well, that’s not gonna be much help,” you shot the man a wink, “they know me by a handful, too.”

“well, come up with one, then.”

you sat for a moment, already settled on the name you wanted to hear him repeat, but wanting to tease anyway. when you offered it up, the sound rang in his ears like angel’s bells. 

agent mulder simply couldn’t stifle his curiosity. as he typed your chosen name out, he asked, “what does it mean?”

“well, my last name is an old name. for us wiccan, it means old friend. and i like to think of myself that way- familiar, constant, when the world is always moving.”

“and your first?”

“my favorite shakespeare character.” you admitted. the man’s face flooded with color, and you could hear him thinking, is she fucking with me? so you tacked on, “you know, just because someone’s a witch doesn’t mean they’re an isolationist. i read.”

“i didn’t say anything!” agent mulder chuckled awkwardly. your intuition had him drawing nervous breaths. “so, you’re a witch. is that why you were at the church? did you plan to invoke, or just poke fun?”

“i’m not that kind of witch, agent mulder. not all witches are mean-spirited. i was there because i had walked past the church a few days ago, and i saw the stained glass windows from outside. they were so beautiful, i wanted to see them up close. i’m not a fan of what happens at churches, but i do love their art.”

for an accepting person, agent mulder didn’t realize how many preconceived notions he held. sat before him was a girl who pledges to be a witch, but visits catholic churches in her free time like museums. a girl who chose her name according to the day. in what little he knew, there seemed to be not one solid fact on which he could build a realistic profile. tight-lipped, the man asked for your age, place and date of birth, and address.

“i’m not sure exactly how many lives i’ve had, but in this one, i’m 29. arlington, d.c… um, october 31st, 1964… oh, and right now, i’m at 2632 hegal place, alexandria. apartment 42.” 

as you spoke, a wind blew through the station. it ruffled the papers on agent mulder’s desk, and it whistled through the links to your handcuffs. the hair stood up on your arms as the wind whispered, and you knew what he was going to say before he said it. you felt it in your gut. 

“2632?” agent mulder swallowed thickly, his curious pupils inflating almost cartoonishly. you saw his goosebumps and smiled.

as if you’d known all along, you asked, “you live in the building next door, don’t you? 2630?”

agent mulder didn’t respond, but the blood in his cheeks did for him. you shifted in your seat again, feeling a burning in your stomach. you hadn’t felt that hot intuition for a long time. there was a haunting quality to his face that was drawing you away from your defense; you couldn’t keep up the mysterious act, because something about him made it impossible to hide.

“s-so, what were you doing at the church?”

“you already asked me that, sir.”

you were surprised that even in the chaos of the police station, you weren’t alone. you felt alone. agent mulder seemed to look at you like his eyes didn’t recognize another thing, like the world was unfamiliar to him aside from your face, your eyes. and all those years of sitting in meditation, of attempting to regress, to see who you were before and who your soul was tethered to were useless. you should’ve known by now to trust in your world, in its karma. it always comes when it’s meant to. 

 “you can call me fox, if it’s easier. sir is so… formal.”

fox’s eyes sparkled. you’d seen that shimmer before, but in water, and in shifting light. you looked into him, and wiped your clammy palms against your pantyhose-clad thighs. for the first time all night, you felt your barrier coming down, the shield you raised back at the church, against the cops and the world. the fear you stifled to survive was finally flooding through your veins, and the tears in your eyes followed like dominoes. 

fox instinctively abandoned the report and took your palms in his own, passing his calloused thumbs over your trembling knuckles. “hey, hey, it’s okay,”

“i-i”m sorry,” you hiccuped, struggling to speak. “i’m- m’over… overwhelmed,”

“catch your breath,” he whispered, running his palms up and down your arms. his touch was seraphic, and by it, you knew you’d felt it before. lifetimes and lifetimes of it. “take it easy, i’m here.”

when you calmed down, he began again, “can you tell me what happened?” 

“well… i went into the church. to look at the windows, like i said. i was alone, it was maybe around six o'clock by then. they were just finishing mass, and everyone stood up to leave, a-and then they came in,” you stuttered, “the, uh, the shooters. they were- they were in all black, and wore red masks, like ones from the halloween store. they were chanting, they said, baruch hashem. it sounded like hebrew, but i think it was different, i’m not sure. it sounded old. and they were chanting, and they knocked so many people down in the aisles to get to the alter. they fired a few rounds off at the windows, glass fell on my head… i saw a lot of people fall, so i dropped to the ground and pressed my face to the wall. i prayed over and over, to the earth, it’s the only prayer i could remember. i just wanted to hide, y’know? a-and when- when they got up to the altar, they-”

the agent stopped you to ask, “what prayer?” 

“why does it matter?” you sniffled. 

“because it might have been what got you out in time.” 

his eyes were so pleading, and the fire curling around your bones stood to remind you he was to be trusted. so you recited the prayer, a slightly juvenile one that in your newness you cut down to the meat of: “the earth is my mother, i shall not want. she restores my body and awakens my soul. although i walk in the shadow of changing seasons and passing time, i will not fear death, for the essence of life is within me, the peace and beauty of earth comfort me. as i look to the skies with wonder at the immensity of the universe, i know i am blessed beyond measure to live all the days of my life in the bountiful house of gaia.”

the man marveled at how the words spilled from your tongue, so ingrained in your muscle memory that they were second nature. you kept a cadence, and each word was its own. he saw now you were not one to sit surrounded by potions and symbols to cloud your focus; you simply let the power of the world pass through you, and hoped to harness it and be protected as you yielded to it. you repeated that mantra like it was all you had left- he could tell. he’d never met such a modern witch. to him, you were a brand new kind of x file, with subtle powers he has yet to comprehend. 

“that’s beautiful,” he complimented as he squeezed your palms. “alright, now breathe. you're safe. keep talking.”

shutting your eyes, you tried to reimagine the horror. you’d never dreamed of seeing anything so inhumane, but maybe these details would be useful. you can’t have just seen them for nothing. 

“they, um, they took the priest. one of them shot him, and then another laid him on the table, and- and he used a knife to cut him open. there… there was so much blood,” you swallowed thickly. “they took his… y’know, his uh, insides. they dragged them out, and they chanted, and anyone who stood up was shot. i- i watched them take it all and, uh, they put it in the tabernacle, of all places… and their eyes glowed under the masks, bright red, and they never stopped chanting. once they started taking people from the pews with knives, i crawled out the side door, because i had th-this feeling, like, like it would be me next. i felt it everywhere. and when the cops showed up…”

“you didn’t want to get stuck. and you thought i was one of them, coming to take you, so you ran from me.” fox finished your thought, a resonant pain shaking his ribcage at the thought of making an innocent girl just try to outrun the danger. “you saved yourself, you know. i don’t know how your prayer worked, but you did something, summoned something that saved you long enough to get you out.”

“and it made you follow me.” you sighed, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. “why?”

fox’s eyes traveled across your face, inspecting every detail, wishing he had a microscope. his hand raised deliberately to brush a lock of hair from your face. “i don’t know.”

“what is your gut telling you?”

“its…” the man felt like his lungs were going to pop, two balloons over-inflated, under siege by a swarm of butterflies. “i wanted to follow you. to find you, not arrest you. but you kept running, so… y’know, logic took over.”

fox took a moment to fish the handcuff key from his pocket, and he unlocked your wrists, rubbing softly at the red marks. the agent winced, guilt-ridden for fastening them too tight. “does it hurt?”

“no, m’okay,” you muttered. your head was pounding, and when his fingertips grazed your pulse, you felt somewhat weak. 

fox let you rest for a few minutes while he typed up your account. he remembered every word. as he worked, his leg consciously shifted out to knock against your knee, and the two of you sat that way for a while, touching bones. when he was done, he leaned back in the borrowed desk chair and sighed, dragging his big palms down his face. 

“can i ask why you’re investigating this?” you brought one leg over the other, suddenly a bit conscious of the length of your dress. you saw his eyes follow, and you flushed. 

“oh, well, my partner and i- scully, you met her- we’re, uh, we’re investigating a string of ritual murders. we’ve followed these guys through the state, they shoot up masses and do what they believe to be sacrifices to jesus himself. that- that chant you mentioned, baruch hashem, i recognize it. it’s aramaic, the language jesus spoke. means “blessed be the name”. we’ve gathered they chant that over and over and they, uh,” the agent paused, seeing the discomfort on your face, “you don’t want to know the details.”

“no, i do! it's just a little raw is all,” you flashed a meek smile, gesturing with a nod for him to continue. 

“well, they seem to be taking people’s… entrails, the priest’s first, and offering them up by putting them in the tabernacle. my theory is they seem to think that if they offer holy blood, and let it be anointed with the eucharist, it'll reward them with god’s love and immortality. as far as we know, they belong to a cult that moves across the country, sacrificing lives to win god’s favor. and what you saw tonight- what you suffered- it’s going to help us stop them.”

“really?”

“yes, really,” he grinned. “listen, i’m not going to hold you here. you’re a victim, you don’t deserve to keep reliving this. you need to go home, get some rest.”

there was still that fire in you, churning and hissing within your throat, reminding you not to ignore it. you never did. in your practices, you always bended to the will of your fire. every invocation, every motion, was deliberate. it all came through you. you didn’t adhere to the rules of everyone else who believed like you did; you belonged to no wiccan circle, no congregation. you just made your way in the world, a ritualist by nature, working with this life and world while understanding your diversion from it. you let your selves be your guide- every version of you that has lived wisely for your benefit. 

thinking of what you are, and what you’ll become now you’ve met fox mulder, the flames licked your tongue, making you honest again. “i’m scared to leave. i… i don’t want them to come for me.”

fox’s comforting grin fell. he saw how you made yourself small in the chair, and he wished he could switch places. in an instant, he’d be the one interrogated, judged, the one seeing guts and blood when he closed his eyes. he couldn’t let that be what you turned into.

“i can bring you. i can get you security, protective custody, anything you need. i’ll protect you myself if i have to,” fox swore, “i won’t let them get to you, okay?”

a sad little laugh bubbled in your throat, and you reached for the hand that rested on the computer mouse. you adored the feeling of his tired skin beneath yours so sensitive. “i guess i don’t really know what’ll feel safe just yet.”

“then let me take you home, at least,” fox offered. “i do live next door.”

“you do.”

you stood up, feeling a bit achy in the knees. fox offered you his arm and you wrapped your palm around it gratefully. you watched him motion across the station to the pretty redhead you’d met in cuffs, who nodded softly. his partner. there was a smart look in her eye, and you knew she had the answers- to what, you couldn’t be sure, but she held a truth within her. it glowed golden against the pink of her skin.

the agent ushered you to a small car outside the station, opening the passenger side for you to slide in. you giggled at his old-fashioned ways, enamored by how he shed his suit jacket and laid it across your nearly bare legs in the car. “so you don’t get cold,” he explained, but you couldn’t care less about why.

the drive was silent. fox went slowly, although you had the feeling he tended to speed. his hand rested on the gear shift out of baseless habit, even though the car was automatic. he was tense, anxious, aware; the muscle at the curve of his jaw clenched and unclenched like it was keeping time, and a stubborn slice of hair kept falling against his forehead no matter how many times he blew it away. you admired him from your side of the car, seeing how traffic lights reflected in his eyes. all it took was for fox to deal a soft glance your way, with just a slight tilt of the head, for you to feel yourself in this car before, within this exact moment some other lateral time. a second wave of goosebumps riddled your body. 

show me, you begged in silence, willing to be heard by whatever force was showing you new versions of the man behind the wheel. show me who he is. show me who he is to me. 

a sudden burst of rain smacked against the windshield of the car, causing both of you to jump. there was no storm following- it was as if a squall came down, just momentarily, to rinse the car. when you blinked, you saw fox driving a first-edition ford in a tweed coat and flat cap, a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he asked you about your day; then, he was jostling atop a cart, hands on worn horse reigns, singing some folk song you’d never heard. another blink revealed him as a boy, holding your juvenile hand and speaking middle french as he passed you a flower, with that same concentrated head tilt and gaze as all the other visions. you’d been here so many times, protected by him, going towards a life with him. you knew he felt it, too, because the beat of his heart was loud enough to hear how it synced with yours. not a piece of you both was out of time, now that the world had removed its wedge. you rested your hand atop his on the gear shift, and the muscle in his mouth loosened. 

when fox pulled up to your building, you waited for him to come around and let you out with a teasing smile. he took your hand gingerly and led you down the sidewalk. he helped you through your building’s door, up the stairs, and he swiped the keyring from your shaking hands and unlocked your apartment for you. the familiar smell of cinnamon air freshener eased your nerves as you switched on the lights, and you saw fox get a glimpse of your life for the first time. he smiled at your home where you lived in the same room, on the same floor, in the same layout one building away, as him. your living room window looked like his. your television was in the same place. you had far more books, and your desk was littered with drawings, but everything was reminiscent of his apartment. and you saw his home now as you looked around, like you had three-dimensional lenses on- you in the blue film, and him in the red. he had no trouble finding the sink and filling a cup for you while you drifted to the couch and sat down. after having time to settle, your body ached. 

“i can't believe this,” was all he could say. 

you took the glass from him and sipped it greedily, falling out of shock and into need. you patted the cushion beside you, and he took a seat.

“you’re familiar with past lives, right?”

“well, yeah,” he confirmed, “i know different theories and cultural views of reincarnation. it's an interesting concept, to be born again but always the same, an amalgamation of the people you were before.”

“i think so, too.”

“but you’re wiccan, so you know all about that already, right?”

“well, i think you should know that things for me are different, fox. i mean, i tell people i’m wiccan, so they call me a witch, and i go with that. i guess i’m spooky to other people. i lean into it because it does them less harm to simplify me and me less harm to just live how i want in private. if i could create a whole new kind of practice, i would, but sometimes its easier to just let people see you how they do and move along,” you elucidated. “what you might think wiccans believe isn’t always what i believe, y’know? it’s just the closest label. works better than deist or freak or whatever. and being here with you, and all these visions, these memories i’m having… i don’t really know what i’m getting at. this is all to say that yes, i believe in past lives, and i’m not so much wiccan as i am just myself.”

“i get it. you follow your own rules. you have an instinct, just something that kind of… burns in you, right?” 

all the words he could’ve used, and he chose burn. because love burns, pain burns, life burns. this entire night has burned you. and he’s burned, too, branded with the belief you share.

“yeah.”

“so, did you know me in your version of past lives, then?” the agent inquired, bumping your knee with his knuckles playfully.

“i know i did, because i asked the world to show you to me, and now i see every version of you. four, maybe five of you, in the same exact moment. you don’t change. and you’re always with me, always a force. this gentle, ferocious thing, keeping me to yourself. and i think in each one, i love you.”

fox’s brain was swimming in confusion while his body buzzed with want. distractedly, he wondered, “how can something be gentle and ferocious?”

softly, you recited, “it’s astounding the first time you realize that a stranger has a body. the realization that he has a body makes him a stranger. it means you have a body, too. you will live with this forever, and it will spell out the language of your life.”

fox beamed, “if beale street could talk. you are well read.”

you set the glass of water down on the coffee table that looked just like his, and you said, “i know you, fox. not in this life yet, but i’ve known you in every one before. coincidences aren’t just coincidences.”

“i never thought so,” the agent nodded thoughtfully. you couldn’t tell what was in his head this time, and you wanted so badly to know. when he did reveal a question, you didn’t expect it. “what was the part of that prayer you said for me earlier? something about the universe?” 

quietly, you recanted: “as i look to the skies with wonder at the immensity of the universe, i know i am blessed beyond measure to live all the days of my life in the bountiful house of gaia.”

fox’s face burst into a wild smile, one that used every tooth he had. he thought of how his entire life, he looked up to the stars, worshiped them; hoping they’d be benevolent enough to bring his sister back, to save his life, to make all of his pain worthwhile. and there they were, divine within your oldest prayer, the very same prayer that guided him from the church in your direction in the first place. you could believe it was the earth, or the spirits you confided in all you liked, but to him the stars had made it all possible. maybe he was a witch in his own way, too, if he played by your rules. 

fox sat in silence with you for a while, refilling your glass while you collected your nerves. the man offered to patch a few of your cuts just so he could pick apart the details of your life in the apartment. with the cover of looking for a first aid kit, he flipped through your books, searching for your copy of james baldwin. he admired your records, finding music he’s loved for years and some he’s never heard before. he studied your little jars of herbs that coexisted alongside tylenol bottles. he saw the parts of your window that you colored with magic marker, because of how you longed for true stained glass. he frowned, thinking what a shame it was those bastards destroyed the art you’d gone to admire tonight. 

as he looked, he learned again what it is like to feel your presence, to be surrounded by you. he felt a sudden gap mending in the space within him, and he didn’t need magic to know why. falling in love was magical enough. 

you spent some time allowing fox to nurse your bumps and bruises (once he stopped fake-looking for the first aid kit), and admired how he childishly placed bandaids all over your arms and legs as if they’d heal all. it was more about letting him care for you, and feeling his hands in places you’d only hoped they’d touched before. he hummed softly to himself all the while, and you were a puddle by the time he finished; when you were the center of his focus, he was nothing but a big sap, muttering soft praises and showering you with smiles. you couldn’t believe it took you so long to find him, or rather that the world took so long to bring you his way. you had so much to make up for now.

when it was time for him to go, you followed him to the door like a puppy. you didn’t feel the discomfort anymore, or the fear of your death. you only felt the doting hands of karma, proving to you the night was simply a means to a much greater end. (un)coincidentally, karma’s hands felt just like his. 

fox leaned in your doorway, his tie undone and his authority stripped. “i’ll come by to check on you in the morning,” he assured. 

“i’ll be here.”

“where do you work?” fox asked, and when your lips melted into a helpless grin, he pushed, “come on, where?”

“i’m a receptionist at the national archives.” 

the believer before you fell to the mercy of his faith, picturing the building on the same street as his job. he imagined how many times you must have walked past him to go to work, all those days spent believing in a love he was missing. his ageless eyes folded on themselves with disbelief, and his laugh rattled deep in his chest.

“jesus. are you sure you’re not something else? a genie, a spirit? an angel?” 

“nope. just a witch. and a bad one, at that.”

you pushed onto your tip-toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, finding his scruff so familiar to your lips. he sighed softly at the touch of your hands, feeling embers sparking in their wake. 

like it was a secret, he murmured, “i have one more question.”

“hm?”

“why do you choose me? if you’ve lived all these lives, why me?”

you settled back onto your heels and smiled. your palm rested against his jaw as you replied, “you know, i don’t think i ever had a choice.”

he wanted to kiss you, but you both know he’s too much of a gentleman. so he only gazed at you for a while, pressing your hand flush to his face, before letting it fall and stepping into the hallway. and as you watched him leave, you imagined every time he’d come back to save you, to love you, to tilt his head and realign himself as the lover you’ve kept for lifetimes.

“you know where to find me,” you called after the man, and he looked over his shoulder with enough love to shatter the sky.

“i guess i always do, don’t i?”

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prayer altered for story, sourced from this website

quote used from novel if beale street could talk by james baldwin

[adrift-in-thyme]

A Pre-Malink fluff of Link's first experience with Hylian holidays. I say pre-Malink since I imagine he still would have been a kid

Thanks for the prompt! This was fun to write

——————

Something strange is happening at Lon Lon Ranch.

Link has been there more often than not this past year. But never has he seen anything like it. One moment, the cozy little home that Talon and Malon share is the same as it has always been. And the next, long strands of spruce have been draped over the doorways and mantel.

There are lights on them too that twinkle like fairies, and little things Malon calls “ornaments.”

(Link thinks they look a bit like miniature versions of the Spiritual Stones he fetched so long ago.)

The lights make their way onto the house and the barn, glittering on the piles of powdery snow. And today the strangest development of all has occurred.

There is a giant pine tree towering over the living room.

He stares up at it, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. How he hadn’t realized it was being constructed during the night, he hasn’t a clue. But here it is…a tree inside of a house.

Link understands a love of trees. After all, he had loved his father and he had been a great big tree. But to decide to stick one in the house…

“Oh fairy boy, how do ya like our Hylia Day tree?”

Malon comes up beside him, bouncing excitedly. He looks over at her, eyes narrowed.

“Hylia Day tree? What’s that?”

Malon tilts her head to gaze up at the tree. Link can’t help but notice how the lights adorning it make her eyes glitter.

“Well, Hylia Day is when we celebrate all the goddess has done for us. And we put up a tree to remember her love for her hero.” She grins at him. “Y’know cause of the green.”

“It’s also cause of the symbolism,” comes Talon’s voice from behind them. They both turn to see the man grinning, two steaming mugs in his hands. “The green is for the new growth Hylia and her hero made possible. The lights are for their sacred powers.”

He shrugs, good naturedly. “But no one really cared about all that anymore. Now it’s just a time for goodwill and celebrating with those you love.”

He sets the two mugs in Malon and Link’s hands.

“Speaking of, it’s a chilly mornin’. Thought you two could use something to warm you up.”

Link stares down into his cup, mouth watering at the scent of chocolate. He has only had this once before, while he was at the castle with Zelda. But he remembers loving it.

He takes a large gulp, then breaks out into a coughing fit as the scalding liquid burns his tongue and throat.

Oh, he’d forgotten about that part.

“You’re forgettin’ about the presents, Father,” Malon says, as she sends Link a sympathetic look. “Don’t drink that so fast, fairy boy! You’ll hurt yourself!”

He gives her a sheepish grin. “I think I already did. Can’t feel my tongue.”

Talon pats him on the back. “It’ll heal up fast, don’t you worry, son. Just take it slower from here on out.”

He turns to Malon, then, smiling. “Ah, yes, the presents. How on earth could I have forgotten? How about you explain that part to our little hero here?”

Malon’s eyes light up. “Alright! Every year around this time, we get each other something nice. We wrap it up all pretty and stick it beneath the tree. Then, on Hylia Day, we get to open our presents!”

Link gnaws his lip, contemplating that. He has received presents before — or what he supposes would count as them — and given them too. But he’s never heard of a day specifically for them.

Now that he thinks of it, though, it sounds promising. On one condition…

He frowns at Malon. “I don’t have to get everyone in Hyrule a present…do I?”

Malon laughs. “Of course not, silly! Just your friends and family.”

Link pauses to think that over, then nods, taking another sip of his cocoa. He can definitely work with that.

Now, to figure out the perfect presents.

…

December 25th rolls around far faster than Link had expected it to. The month has flown by, filled with an odd sort of energy and plenty of things to do. Cookie baking, caroling, wrapping the presents in tidy little packages – the tasks are nothing at all like the drudgery of shoveling snow outside (though he’s found that even that can be made enjoyable if you try). But nothing compares to helping Malon cut stars and wreaths out of soft dough or playing his ocarina while she sings.

(One of the best things about the holiday, he decides, is that Malon sings even more than usual. And though he didn’t think it was possible, her voice is even more beautiful when belted out beneath a sky of wintry blue and swirling clouds of pearly white snow.)

Now, the day is here – finally and yet all too soon. He awakens that morning with a tight, little wad of worry in his throat.

He’s never celebrated a holiday like this before. Will he even do it right?

Taking a deep breath, he slides out of the bed that in the past months has become his own. He grabs the package he had carefully stowed away in his pouch and peers down at it. The wrapping is not quite as nicely done as Talon’s or Malon’s. But he guesses it’s good enough. Out of his multiple tries, this one was the best.

So, he tucks it beneath his arm and heads into the living room.

Talon and Malon both greet him warmly with exclamations of “Happy Hylia Day!” Breakfast is already on the table – fresh eggs and milk and little buns that smell like cinnamon. Link breathes in the scent of it, mouth watering. But — he steels himself, shoulders squared, jaw tight, as though he is heading into battle (he’s nervous enough to be, that’s for certain) — before he can eat, before he can enjoy the hospitality this small family continues to bestow upon him there is something he must do.

He turns to Malon, awkwardly stretches out a present-laden hand in her direction.

She looks down at it, a small grin quirking her lips.

“Is that a present for me, fairy boy?”

His stomach somersaults. He nods.

“Well, we usually open presents after we eat, but…” she looks at Talon and he nods, smiling. “I suppose I can make an exception for my best friend.”

Link’s cheeks redden, the color only deepening as she takes the package from him. She inspects it, shaking it a bit to try and guess its contents. Then, she begins to unwrap it.

It seems an eternity before she finishes. Finally, she sets aside the paper and turns her attention to what was housed within it. It is a small bottle, in which floats is a purple flame.

She frowns. “Is this a…”

“It’s a poe,” Link says, quickly. He’s sure he is going to melt now. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice of a present. “The spirit of one, anyway. It gives you good luck if you keep it around. And if you’re ever in trouble, you can drink it and it’ll heal you.”

Malon hesitates a moment more, looking undecided. Then her face splits into a grin.

“I always have wanted to capture one of these little buggers.” She lunges forward, throwing her arms around Link. “Thanks, fairy boy. I love it.”

Hesitantly, Link returns the hug. His face is so hot he could easily imagine that he is back in the depths of Death Mountain.

“You’re sure?”

“You couldn’t have gotten me a better gift. Honest!”

Link relaxes with a sigh of relief. Maybe this holiday thing isn’t so hard after all.

[staytinyville]

Yeonjun

PLEASE REFER TO MASTERLIST TO GET FULL TAROT READING EXPERIENCE

↣ Summary: When you began to explore the spiritual side of the world, you didn’t imagine that cleaning a statue came with getting a new pet. Especially not one that was able to turn into a man.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x gn!reader

↣ Genre: fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: familiar!yeonjun, gumiho!yeonjun, new witch!reader

↣ Word Count: 1.4k

↣ Warnings: None

↣ A/N: I love Yeonjun and anything spiritual with him. He would totally ask for a tarot reading. And I would give it to him. Also, he gives fox energy doesn’t he, lol. 

THE HIGH PRIESTESS

Intuition, Sacred Knowledge, Divine Feminine, The Subconscious Mind

The High Priestess goes hand in hand with the Magician. However rather than represent your physical body, the high priestess speaks on the spiritual realm and your subconscious mind. She is the one to tell you that there are otherworldly things at play that influence out everyday life.

The card is meant to tell you that you are reaching a point of enlightenment with the spiritual world. You have opened your eyes to the divine and are now ready to explore it.

There are a lot of things within this card that talk about your spiritual connections and the likes. If you are one who enjoys those kinds of things, you should step into it further and explore it more.

II THE HIGH PRIESTESS

The scarf that you had wrapped around you seemed to warm your neck, however each time you would turn your head it would move off your ears causing them to freeze. As you were making your way back home after spending the time at a nearby park, you took notice of a small stone statue hidden behind some overgrown weeds. 

You had come out for the day to get in touch with nature and the secrets the universe had for you. There was suddenly an awakening within you that you wanted to explore more. It was something that you had long coming, but for some reason today was just the day you decided you would give it a chance. 

As you grew closer to the statue, you noticed the fan-like stone behind its main body spreading along its back. You counted nine tails, humming to yourself as it turned out to be a kumiho statue. You frowned at the weeds that attach themselves to the beautiful carving. 

So without so much as another thought, you waited out the cold as you began to move the overgrown weeds from its stone. It didn’t seem to be cracked or ruined from the time, but it was a bit dirty. However, you didn’t have the right chemicals to get rid of the plant stains.  

“There.” You whispered, throwing away the weeds. “Good as new.” 

You sighed as you went back to the statue, kneeling down once more to speak to it directly. “The world is cruel. But sometimes there are people out there willing to help.” You smiled softly, giving the fox statue a pat on the head for good luck.  

When you made it back to your apartment, you gasped quietly as you came across a red and black fox curled up at your front door. You glanced around for a moment, trying to come up with a viable answer as to why he was so far deep into the city. As you shuffled away to keep from making a noise, it opened its eyes and made direct eye contact with you. 

“Oh.” You quietly spoke, freezing up as the creature seemed to crawl closer to you.  

“Hello, there.” You spoke, bending down to get a closer look at the fox. “Woah, woah, woah.” You gasped as he began to rub his head against your knees. 

You quickly stood up, the fox only staring up at you as it waited. You stepped to the side slowly, making your way to the door, unlocking it. When the door opened, the fox was quick to pass through your legs and into the apartment without so much as a thought. 

“You can't just come in here!” You gasped out, watching as it looked around the room for a moment. 

You kept trying to shoo him away, but he seemed to be doing his own thing. It came up to a wall in the apartment, eyes glaring at an award you had gotten at your job. Your eyes went wide as he quickly jumped off his back legs and pushed the frame off its hook. 

“No, don't touch that!” You cried out, rushing to pick up the broken glass. “Ah, my award.” You frowned, being careful with cleaning. 

“Being reminded of things you didn't want won't do you any good.” You heard someone speak from behind you.

Your head snapped back, eyes wide as you stared at the fox. “Did-Did you just talk?” You asked quietly.

When all the fox did was blink at you, you sighed to yourself. “Of course not.”

“No, I did.” It told you directly. 

You gasped, falling onto your side, away from the glass. “I'm going crazy.” You said, keeping your eyes on the fox. 

“I can assure you, you are not.” Your eyes were close to popping out of their sockets as mist swirled around the fox and suddenly you were staring at a man dressed in a less formal hanbok. 

“I am Yeonjun, your familiar.” He bowed his head, giving you a small smile. 

“Oh my god.” You screamed, coming to stand before pausing for a moment to look at him. “Wait—my familiar?” You asked. 

“Yes. I am a kumiho—in case you couldn't tell.” He wiggled his tail as he turned sideways to show you. The way his chest puffed out made you see that he was quite proud of being a kumiho. 

“No, no.” You shook your head. “It's just—why am I getting a familiar? I'm no wizard.”

There had been such things as witches and wizards back in those days when demons roamed the earth. Back when people actually needed the power to move on with life. They might still practice that kind of magic but they weren’t really open about it with others due to prejudice. 

Honestly, you were one of those people who wanted to look into the magic that the universe had to offer. That was why you spent the day outside in the cold, enjoying nature and trying to connect with the earth. 

“Wouldn't you like to be?” Yeonjun asked you.

“I mean, yeah, but—they don't exist anymore.” You told him.

“They don't because they don't tell.” He nodded his head. “You have always been a curious mind, haven't you? The universe has been watching you for quite some time now.”

You watched as his pouty lips formed a smile, his ears twitching atop his head.

“So why now?” You asked. 

“Because you cleaned my statue. I wanted to return the favor.” His expression turned soft, giving you a thankful smile. 

You were reminded of the fox statue you had cleaned before making your way home. All you did was throw away the overgrown weeds and the dirt that covered it. 

“It wasn't anything big.” You spoke softly. 

“To me, it was.” Yeonjun told you. “I've spent millennia watching as the world changed and no one dared to clean my small temple. So now I am here, as your familiar. To help guide you into the spirit realm within yourself.”

“Sounds rubbish.” You told him sarcastically. 

“It gets better with time.” He exclaimed, jumping from excitement. 

And with time it did. Yeonjun was a roommate. Not a good roommate but not a bad one either. He did his job in helping you find your inner spiritual side while also keeping you company. He was an extroverted person who you enjoyed conversing with. You also couldn’t lie to say that you didn’t enjoy his cuddles in fox form. 

“Bye, guys! Stay safe!” You called out to your two friends. 

The two boys waved their hands, Beomgyu  calling out excitedly while Soobin was trying to calm him down. 

“I like that Soobin guy.” Yeonjun bounded over to you in his human form. “He's a real one. Keep him close. Beomgyu pets too hard, though.”

“I'll tell him to be gentler next time.” You giggled, moving to pick up some of the trash in the living room. 

You watched as the fox made himself comfy on the couch, stretching his body along the entirety of it. You smiled softly, eyes taking in his content smile. Yeonjun was a handsome man, someone who could easily seduce anyone into doing what he wanted. But then again, you assumed that was how it went with anyone who was a kumiho. 

You grew curious over how he spoke about your two friends, wondering what life was like for familiars.

“Yeonjun, have you ever had friends?” You asked, moving to sit on the couch. 

The boy moved his head up, rubbing his cheek into your thigh as you settled down. 

“I have a couple.” Yeonjun answered. “They all have their own lives and witches to follow.”

“Did you get lonely?” Your fingers moved into his hair, messaging into his scalp. 

“I always was.” He hummed. 

“I'm sorry.” You told him softly. 

“It's alright.” He smiled, sitting up. “I have you now. And you're stuck with me forever!”

“Yeonjun!” You giggled as he lunged towards you. 

While you had been at the end of the couch, all he ended up doing was rubbing his face into your breasts, tickling your collarbone. You pulled him up to face you, lightly smiling as you glanced down at his lips. 

“I promise I won’t let you be alone again.” You whispered to him, brushing his lips with the tips of your fingers. 

You felt the fluff of his tail brush against your legs, swishing softly in happiness. 

“Thank you.”

Tags : @cultofdionysusnet , @sandsofire , @k-vanity

[honeythispodcast]

hi! i just listened to your affect theory episode and it reminded me so much of this beautiful review i read of my mcr show, and i wanted to share it! it so totally understood my experience of the show, as one of the 'fervently-devoted fans' up front, and it was really touching to have that understood from the perspective of an 'outsider'. this is the link to the full article in rolling stone australia, by conor lochrie (https://au.rollingstone.com/music/music-live-reviews/my-chemical-romance-auckland-concert-review-45753/) but here is the section that i loved: '[For] all of their rock opera magnificence and exquisite conceptual brilliance, what, I think, really makes My Chemical Romance a generational band is the sense of intrinsic and invaluable community. At Tāmaki Makaurau’s Outerfields on Saturday night, that was there for all to see: a mass of worshippers arrived passionately but patiently, mostly gathered, unsurprisingly, in black garments, waiting to offer adoration to four people who meant the world to them.

And “waiting” was what they’d really had to do, with Saturday’s concert taking place after several years of COVID-induced delays. Many fans went so far as to camp outside the venue 24 hours before the concert in order to secure the best view. It’s a narrative that again lends itself to some semblance of “spirituality”, for many of the people I spoke to had approached the Outerfields site from the breadth and depth of Aotearoa. One girl, who later disappeared into the huddled masses near the front of the stage, described arriving on a flight from Christchurch that very morning alongside several dozen other MCR acolytes, all already wearing their concert clothing despite the youthfulness of the day. 

Huge screens beside the stage urged the crowd to treat everyone beside them with kindness, but it was a superfluous message, because this was thousands of people united by a shared purpose. Again, one is loath to use the word “spiritual”, but on Saturday night, as soon as Gerard Way took to the stage, he occupied the role of leader, healer, idol, whatever form each person in the crowd needed him to take.

He performed both within and outwith himself, silent at intervals, a shrieking mess during songs, a wholly unblushing artist committed to everything he was doing. On such a massive stage, in front of such an expectant crowd, Way’s way didn’t feel ingratiating; instead, this was a man seized by his music, overwhelmed by his mission. ...

I stood in the middle of the crowd as it all unfolded, behind what I thought were the truly fervently-devoted fans (a lesson from my late Catholic grandmother: always sit in the back at church if you know the people in front need it more than you) and ahead of those probably there for just a good time. Where I stood, looking at people of all ages on the verge of tears, singing lyrics like their life depended on it, I felt pangs of regret, visions of teenage years that could have been so much different if pretension and cultural constriction hadn’t forcibly collided. 

But mostly – I promise – I felt happier for those around me who had waited so long for this moment, and who would never forget this Saturday night. Because, really, it could be an inordinate amount of time until My Chemical Romance perform in Aotearoa again, even if the band themselves will still exist in the minds of those at Outerfields for a while longer: “How wrong we were to think / That immortality meant never dying”.'

I (EJ) remember reading this article when it came out. It kicked my ass then and it kicks my ass now. Absolutely gorgeous incredible music journalism that really honors the fanbase.

We talk more about this at 1:04:06 in the new episode!

[hajjumrahhub]

Umrah Duas – A Guide to Umrah {Package} Duas

Many pilgrims carry little booklets and chant specific du'as for every circle of the tawaf and sa’ee when they go for Umrah via All Inclusive Umrah Packages. Unlike popular perception, every round of these ceremonies does not have a specific du'a attached to it.

"In tawaf, there is no particular dhikr that was told from the Prophet (PBUH), that he ⷺ either enjoined, said, or taught," claims Shaikh ul Islam Ibn Taymiyyah. Instead, the believer may offer any du'a from the Qur'an and Sunnah while performing tawaf. There is no evidence for the precise du'a that many individuals mention saying should be recited beneath mizabs (downspouts) and similar objects. (Al-Fatawa, Majmu' 26/122)

Notwithstanding, the Prophet (PBUH) made prayers several times throughout Umrah, giving us examples to follow. Here is not an entire list of du'as from the Qur'an and Sunnah; you are free to make any kind of du'a during Umrah, including private ones for loved ones. Furthermore, you are not obliged to repeat your prayers only in Arabic. It is important to comprehend the significance of the du'as you recite rather than just reciting them.

Hopefully, the following list will act as a useful guide and enhance the significance of your Umrah experience. However, the following list of duas that the Prophet Muhammad PBUH prayed at different times and that one can recite during umrah

When you set out on your journey, say a dua?

To enter the holy areas of Makkah, one must first prepare spiritually. It is advised to recite the Du'a al-Safar before departing the house to ask Allah for protection, direction, and support on your journey.

Prayer for the initial glimpse of Kabba

According to reports, the Prophet (SAW) offered some prayers when he first saw the Kaaba:

Saying the dua before entering Haram

Reciting the Tasbeeh, Tahleel, and Takbeer prayers is advised. It is advised to chant Tasbeeh, or Subhan Allah, before entering ihram (glory be to Allah). Takbeer, or Allahu Akbar (Allah is Most Great), and Tahleel, or La ilaha ill Allah (there is no creator except Allah). Bring the right foot first as you reach Masjid Al-Haram to conduct Umrah and say the following dua:

Du'a for Declaring Your Intent to Perform Umrah

After entering the Ihram state, recite two Sunnat-ul Ihram rakahs. Next, state some Arabic or translation words that you intend to conduct Umrah:

Recite the Talbiyah after Ihram

Start reciting the Talbiyah as soon as entering Ihram for the Hajj or Umrah. You should recite the Talbiyah as often as you can while traveling. It is advised to read it in every situation, whether you are standing, sitting, walking, driving, lying down, experiencing small or severe impurities, or going through menstruation. Umrah travelers should stop right before the start of the Umrah Tawaf. Three or more Talbiyahs should be performed, according to advice.

Given how frequently it is recited, you must comprehend its deep significance to deepen our relationship with Allah SWT. Insha'Allah, this will add a lovely richness to our dialogue with Him. As you approach Masjid Al Haram, say the du'a. Recite du'a and put the right foot first as you visit Masjid Al Haram to undertake Umrah.

Saying the Tawaaf dua

The term "tawaf" describes the act of walking counterclockwise in rounds around the Kaaba. One tawaf consists of seven complete rounds, each starting and finishing at the Hajar al Aswad (The Black Stone). Read dua when you face the black stone to make the purpose of the tawaf.

The Prophet PBUH would recite the dua when He (SAW) passed in front of the black stone and the Yemeni corner.

The sunnah is to proceed to Maqam-e-Ibrahim after performing the tawaf, pray two quick rak'ahs behind it, and then stand up right away after reciting the tasleem to make place for others, especially for those who wish to offer the two rak'ahs after tawaf. You need to say Dua while sipping Zamzam.

Praying for Sa'ii

Sa'ii is traversing the two hills, Safa and Marwah, seven times back and forth. When you ascend the Safa Mountain for the first time, you can say the following phrase from the Holy Qur'an:

Saying the Dua as you exit the Masjid-al-Haram

As you exit Masjid Al Haram after this lovely trip, you may read du'a.

Halaq 

Pilgrims must shave or clip their hair after the Saeeh (Halaq or Qasar) within the Haram.

If not shaven, the hair should be clipped to a minimum of one inch or more.

For shorter hair than one inch, it must be shaved.

However, this isn't the preferable solution.

Women may create a ponytail and trim up to an inch from the bottom. They are not permitted to shave their head.

Conclusion

When you repeat du'as, keep in mind the purpose of your journey: to seek Allah SWT's blessings and mercy for all of humanity as well as the fulfillment of our own particular prayers. Hopefully, your Umrah journey reflects the principles of Islam and brings you spiritual growth, harmony, and tranquility. Get ready to embark on the sacred journey by selecting the finest December Umrah packages from New York available to you.

[flameohotwife]

Here’s something I’d love to see you write:

Aang & Katara taking their child/children to the southern air temple so they can learn more about that side of their heritage.

Old Halls, New Life (rated G)

The air was eerily still as they climbed down off of Appa, setting foot on the stone balcony of the Southern Air Temple for the first time since the war. Katara hardly dared to breathe, lest she disturb the quiet. Aang’s face was unreadable. He stood still as the statue of Gyatso that she knew was just out of sight, staring blankly ahead. Katara bent the sweat off her palms and wondered if he was trying to mentally prepare himself for the carnage that was still to come. She wasn’t sure either of them would ever be ready. 

A lifetime later, Aang finally turned his face to her, and her heart broke at the sadness and guilt that were heavy in his eyes. He offered a small smile and held his hand out to her. She took it, walking towards the front door of the temple, hoping he couldn’t feel her own nerves. He had put off his own healing for so long, for the sake of healing the whole world. He needed her to be the strong one, right now.

The moment seemed too heavy for words, so she squeezed his hand as they approached Gyatso’s statue. He returned the squeeze just before releasing her hand to bow to his old master. Katara mirrored his action, offering her own respects to the man who had been Aang’s biggest support in his old life. When he moved forward to airbend the lock and pushed open the heavy wooden door, it looked just like it had the last time they were there. 

Katara had always felt a sense of awe at the Avatar, but now, knowing Aang the way she did, having spent the better part of a year fighting a war alongside him and another year trying to restore peace… Now the Hall of Avatars hit her even harder. Each of these men and women had had a life. They had loved, and been loved. They had fought battles and kept the balance of the world, but they had also been human and felt the full depth of that human experience. They had laughed and felt loss and suffered illness… 

Thinking of Aang’s statue in this very hall—sometime hopefully long, long in the future—she wondered what future generations would say about him. She wondered who had loved and lost these Avatars of old. How they had reconciled the Avatar’s humanity and their Spiritual duty. 

After a moment of respect, and, Katara suspected, seeking wisdom from his past lives, Aang led Katara through the curtains he had found Gyatso’s body behind the first time they were there. She struggled not to gasp at the number of Fire Nation skeletons that littered the ground around Gyatso, shocking red armor still firmly in place, and she squeezed Aang’s hand again to remind him that he wasn’t alone. No matter how hard the task that lay ahead of them, she was always and forever by his side.

She saw Aang press his eyes shut. He squeezed her hand back in thanks, but tears still leaked down his cheeks and his chin was trembling. A year or two ago, she might have feared him slipping into the Avatar State, but now she just pulled him into a hug and they fell to their knees on the ground together.

“I miss them,” Aang croaked out some time later, once the wracking sobs subsided. “I miss them so much.”

Katara rubbed his back and kissed the tip of the arrow on his head, completely lost for words. What could she even say? She knew how deep the pain of missing her mother was, and she was just one person. Aang had lost everyone and everything.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “I don’t know if I could have done this alone. The temple is so full of memories.”

“Share them with me?” she asked, hesitant but hopeful. Aang had shared many things about his people, but they were all more general ideals, histories, ceremonies, and occasional anecdotes. He didn’t often share his personal memories. It was like talking about them would force him to remember. That they had been real—that they had lived and that they had died horrible, unfair deaths.

But this time, Aang did share. Over the next days and weeks as he and Katara cleaned the temple to prepare it for the Acolytes, he shared many memories. When they carefully removed the skeletons near the airball court, he told Katara about a particularly competitive game of airball which had caused multiple injuries to him and his friends. When they cleaned the kitchens, he told her about the time he and his friends had stolen a bunch of fruit pies and hid them in the elder monk’s beds, earning them all extra chores for a month. When they scrubbed ash stains out of the classrooms, he told her how hard it had been to be the youngest in his levels; how he missed his friends when they’d advanced him over and over again. 

As they carried skeleton after skeleton out of the tallest towers, he told her how bittersweet his tattoo ceremony had been. How excited he was to see his parents and his friends from the other temples and how proud he had been, but also how different he felt and how it was the beginning of him being ostracized from his friends. How much weight he already felt on his shoulders after that ceremony. How much heavier it had gotten since.

Aang shared his memories, and it brought so much life back to these empty halls. Katara smiled every time she walked into the kitchen now, picturing a small gaggle of seven-year-old boys sneaking out with their arms full of pie when the bakers weren’t looking. 

“I know they’d be proud of you,” she said one morning while she was cooking breakfast. Aang had been silently chopping up moonpeaches beside her to make a pie of his own, still trying to perfect the “gooey center” Gyatso was always so good at. He looked up at her, startled, and almost dropped the knife. 

“I know I’ve told you before,” she went on, “but the way you were able to end the war without taking Ozai’s life, and the way you’ve been bringing peace to all the nations over the years since the war ended… sharing your culture with the Air Acolytes and helping the world restore balance… I just know they would be so proud of you.”

Aang smiled sadly.

“I know you’ll always miss them too, but… they’re not gone. They live on in your stories. In this place. In the mischief you and Toph and Sokka get into all the time…” Aang looked affronted and she shoved his shoulder playfully. “Yes, I know you’re not just ‘going to the market’ when the three of you are gone for hours and only come home with a handful of vegetables and some mysterious sacks that clank.”

Aang full-on laughed then, possibly his first real laugh since they had arrived at the temple. He set the knife down and hid his face sheepishly behind his hands, leaning on his elbows on the counter.

“And one day,” Katara continued, blushing vibrantly, “they’ll live on in the next generation. In our kids. In the lessons you’ll teach them and the trouble you’ll get into together and the values you instill. Your people aren’t gone forever, Aang. I promise you that.”

Aang’s head snapped up to look at her so fast, and his face was filled with so many different emotions, but before she could truly look at him and figure out what he was thinking, he surged forward and kissed her.

Kissing Aang had always been one of her favorite things to do, but she had held back from kissing him on this trip, unsure of whether he wanted that sort of intimacy during such a difficult time. She had offered many kisses to his head or his cheek, and innumerable hugs where she had clung to him, and he to her, but hadn’t kissed his lips since before they left Cranefish Town.

Now, though, as his lips moved fervently against hers, it seemed obvious that this was exactly what he needed, and she melted into him. He wove his hands into her hair—it always made her smile that he seemed to love her hair so much when he had none—and she clung to his back, eliciting a happy sigh from him.

The smell of their breakfast beginning to burn to the bottom of the pot startled them away from each other. Katara nervously tucked her hair back behind her ears as she stirred the rice mixture, but she could feel Aang still staring at her. When she scooped their breakfast into bowls and offered one to him, he was grinning besottedly. She couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you, Katara,” he said, pecking her on the cheek. “Thank you for helping me keep my people alive, and for reminding me that they never really left. I know their love lives on, but now their memory will, too, every time I tell their story.”

“I love you, Aang,” she said. “I hope that wasn’t too much… I just…” 

“It was perfect,” Aang interrupted, placing a warm hand on hers and smiling. “It was exactly what I needed to hear.”

Read more on ao3

So, this turned out to be a doozy. What you see here is just the first of four ficlets which I combined into one fic, because I couldn't help myself. And this doesn't even cover what you actually asked for yet haha, but the rest will :) It's too long for tumblr so you can read the whole thing on ao3. I didn't do as much research as I probably should have for this, but there's a lot packed in here. I hope you enjoy the parenting segments, friend!

[notasapleasure]

OTP meme: Jerott/Danny bandverse?

Yay, thanks! Tried not to base my answers on yours lol, but in general I agree XD

Which one is more fond of scary movies: Danny! Popcorn crunches through the tensest/grossest scenes with a feral grin.

Which one gets the most excited about Halloween: Also Danny – costumes! Parties! Getting to make Jerott dress up as some kind of sexy ghoul!

Which one would be more likely to survive the apocalypse: I think both of them could kick the apocalypse’s arse, frankly.

Which one would literally kill for the other: Both, if need be – but I think Jerott would be surprised at how quickly Danny would commit if it came down to that. Danny knows without a doubt that if GRM escaped from jail, they would be ready and willing to take that fucker out if he came anywhere near Jerott again.

Which one likes to scare or startle the other: I think Jerott has a silly side that likes to sneak up on Danny while they’re cooking or something, because Danny’s usually so unflappable, but Jerott has opportunities to cause flapping that no one else does. And Danny’s so cute when they squeak and jump in Jerott’s arms >:3

Which one is more likely to need comforting when they get spooked: Well, per the previous question, I think Danny. Jerott claims not to get 'spooked' - the rats in the Paris metro are legitimately gross, Danny, not cute!

Which one always puts on a brave face: Both, in different ways. Both are used to hiding things about themselves/negotiating society’s assumptions, and they can both do a resting bitch face that would turn you to stone.

Which one would be more dangerous if they suddenly became violent: Depends, but unarmed, out of nowhere, probably Jerott, who’s a seasoned brawler – Danny is more a ‘hide behind my seven-foot drag queen friends and yell taunts’ kind of fighter. (shooting GRM in the face is a different matter, should it be necessary)

Which one would be more likely to commit a crime: I think both have committed a fair few in the various countries they’ve lived/travelled in. Danny would be most level-headed about it, whether it was something minor or a body needed hiding; Jerott would act in a rash way and then freak out.

Which one believes in ghosts: Both, in certain ways. Jerott’s are powered by guilt, while Danny has a fairly open approach to spiritual matters, like you described for r63 Danny, Kay.

Which one likes to watch spooky shows on television: I think they probably start watching ‘real life’ hauntings/ghost hunters with a huge amount of scepticism, expecting to make fun, but then they each get drawn in by how ‘realistic’ it is and end up clinging to each other with the jump scares. If they watch TXF together it always ends with Jerott saying how sensible Scully is and Danny doing the whole mocking thing about how can she not Believe when she’s seen so much spooky shit? In reality, they're both Mulders anyway, Jerott just feels he needs to defence Science because of his dad/alternative career option.

Which one would propose the idea of holding a seance: Danny, for the aesthetic/because a friend who’s a medium needs a venue. Like the TV shows, they might start off sceptical but end up impressed by the experience.

Which one has nightmares more often: Jerott’s are more…narrative. And memorable. Danny probably has lingering unease that surfaces in their dreams, but not like the kind of wake-up-sweating-I-thought-Gabriel-was-sitting-on-my-face kind of dreams Jerott has.

Which one would want to explore a real haunted house: Jerott, to prove Danny wrong. He ends up shrieking, Shaggy from Scooby-doo style, and jumping into Danny’s arms. Danny never ever lets him live it down.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Waiting for God (Psalm 37:7)

“Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him.”

We are told of certain men that they walked with God. If we are walking with anyone, we keep close beside him. We do not fall behind him. We do not go faster than he goes. We keep step and walk by his side. We are to walk with God.

The word walk is suggestive. It does not indicate haste. Only once does the Bible show us God running. The father ran to meet the prodigal. He runs to save, to show mercy, to welcome the penitent. But in all His other movements, God walks. He is never in a hurry. He walks slowly, and we are told to wait for Him. Unless we want to go alone, we must wait for Him. He will never hurry to please us. We may be sure, too, that we are not going too slowly if He is with us. “Wait for the Lord.”

In one marginal reading the words are, “Be silent to the Lord and wait patiently for him.” In another it is, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.” His work is not yet finished; you see it now only in process .

An artist is painting a picture. You come into his studio one day and see him at work. You ask him what the picture is and he tells you. You say: “Well, I cannot see any resemblance. I do not think that the drapery is beautiful. That sky is not natural.” So you go on chattering and criticizing. The artist says: “ Wait until the picture is finished. You cannot see yet what it is to be. Just wait.” That is the thought in this Psalm. The writer was in great perplexity. Things seemed to be going wrong. Evildoers appeared to be prospering. They brought their wicked devices to pass. They slandered the righteous. They crushed the innocent and the defenseless. The writer saw all this, and it fretted him. “Just be silent before God and wait for Him,” was the answer that came to him.

We should wait for God in His providences. It takes time to develop them. We are assured that all things work together for good to those who love God. But ofttimes we find ourselves in experiences which we think cannot possibly bring any good to us. They seem full of hurt. But the answer is, “Be silent before God and wait for Him.” This work which seems to our thought so unlike God is not yet finished. When it is complete, then the beauty and the good will appear.

We are all quite sure of being in circumstances, sometime in our life, when things will seem to be against us. We may have wasting sickness, bringing suffering, loss of income, heavy expense. We may have adversity in our business affairs. Death may break in upon our happy circle of love. Our plans may be thwarted. Some day we may sit amid shattered hopes, the broken purposes, and faded flowers of our joys, and say, “There is nothing good in all this!” But then will come to us the divine word, “Be silent and wait for God.” This seeming confusion is not lawless tangle. The threads are in God’s hands, every one of them. But His work is not yet finished .

We must wait for God also in all our work. Sometimes we grow impatient at the slowness with which results come. Parents have their experience as they train their children, in watching for the outcome of their discipline. Teachers meet the same trial of faith in their work with their pupils. When a man works in wood or clay or stone or iron, he sees the result of every stroke. He sees the fragments of the marble fly and the figure of his vision coming out a little more clearly as he hews away. He sees the rough timber grow into smoothness and beauty of form, beneath his saw and plane.

But work on minds and hearts is slow. We cannot take a crude life and make it lovely in a day, as one can dress and carve a piece of wood. We cannot change a fiery, tumultuous, restless spirit to peace, love, and gentleness in one hour, as the sculptor can hew a block of stone into grace. It takes years ofttimes, to teach one moral or spiritual lesson. Many times we do sad hurt to God’s work in human lives by our want of patience. A boy plants his grains of corn in the garden, and at once begins to look for them to grow. The second morning, seeing no points of green pushing up through the soil, he digs the clay away and lays bare the seeds to see what is wrong. In his impatient haste he kills the germs and the seeds never grow at all. He ought to have waited for God.

A writer tells of his experience in hurrying God with the development of an insect. For nearly a year he kept the cocoon of an emperor moth. It was shaped like a flask, and in the neck end of it was a little opening. That was where the creature was to crawl out when nature’s time God’s time came. But this opening seemed so small, so much smaller than the insect imprisoned within, that one wonders how it is ever going to get out. Then when it begins to come out of its cocoon, it is with great labor and difficulty that it escapes.

This man at last saw the first efforts of the moth to break away from its prison. For a whole forenoon he watched it striving and struggling to get out. It did not appear able to advance beyond a certain point. The opening seemed too narrow. He pitied the poor creature, shut up and unable to escape and thought he would help it. He supposed he was doing a kindness. He took his scissors and snipped the fine threads to make the opening a little wider. In a moment more, without any further struggle or difficulty out crawled the moth. But it had a huge, swollen body and little shriveled wings. It had not the graceful form it ought to have had. The gentleman watched to see the transformation take place, the dwarfed wings expand into their radiant beauty. But he looked in vain. The moth did not develop at all into loveliness. It never did. He had destroyed it in trying to help it. His kindness had proved the creature’s ruin! It was never anything but a stunted abortion, crawling painfully through the brief life which it should have spent flying through the air on rainbow wings. This friend of the little insect, was guilty of cruelty instead of being kind.

God’s slower way was the right way, and he would better have waited for God. If he had, it would have taken longer time and it would not have been so easy for the moth it would have had to crawl out with great pain and difficulty but the result would have been a beautiful butterfly, with brilliant wings, flying through the air and not a poor, misshapen creature, crawling about on the ground.

This is a picture of what we do many a time in trying to help God bring souls into the light, or to bring out some spiritual beauty in the life we want to help.

We are not too eager to do good we never can be that; our whole soul should be full of the desire to bless others. But we are in too great haste. We have not patience enough to wait for God. We try to hurry the results we seek. We cannot wait for the seeds to grow. We do not give hearts time to develop their love, their confidence, their gentleness; we try to hasten these fruits of the Spirit. The result is, that the lives we thus help to premature development are never so beautiful as they would have been if we had waited for God.

We need to learn the lesson also in the living of our own life. We are apt to grow impatient with our own progress. Many a young person, in his eagerness to get on in his course and enter active life mars his work and lessens his own efficiency. It is better to wait for God. Jesus was in no hurry to begin His work. He spent thirty quiet years in preparation, in study, in thought, in simple common duty, waiting patiently for God’s time for Him to go forth to His public ministry. Thirty years of preparation and then only three years of work. But we know what kind of work He did in those brief years! Every word He spoke was a word of power. Everything He did left an impression on the ages. Those three years of ministry have been more to the world than a thousand years of the immature, imperfect, fragmentary work many of us do. If with His sinless humanity and His perfect powers He waited thirty years, in preparing for three years of ministry; we need far more than He, to be patient and wait for God before we go out to speak and work for Him. If we put more time into preparation, the fewer years left us for work, would count for far more in the end than do now our many years filled with immaturity, with work that counts for little, with words without wisdom and without weight. Let us wait for the Lord that our work, when the time comes for work, may have power and good in it.

We need to wait for God, also, in finding our way in this world. Duty is not always plain for us at once. We come continually to points where we cannot tell which way we ought to go. If we are God’s children and are faithfully following Christ, we shall never have to take one step in the dark. Jesus said, “He who follows me shall not walk in darkness.” This means that duty will always be made clear. We shall never have to stumble along in uncertainty. We shall be able to make the right decisions and the right choices. But we must always wait for God. If we insist on running on before Him, of course we shall be in the dark. It is just as dark in advance of God’s glorious leading as it is a way behind Him. If we would know the way and see what our duty is we must wait for the Lord.

For example, if you come to a wise friend with a question about what you should do next year, or next autumn, or even next week, it is probable that all the friend can say will be, “Wait.” You are not sure of having any next year, or next autumn, or next week. The question of duty may be the one that must wait until the time comes. You are sorely perplexed about what you ought to do in some matter that touches your life in a very close and sacred way. Yet the answering of it is beset with difficulties. You cannot tell what you ought to do or say. On neither hand is the way open and plain. The Word of God to you is, “Wait for the Lord.”

But it seems to you, that the answer must be given now, at once. The question stands clamoring at your door and needs immediate decision. But no clamoring of any question, no pressure of friends for your decision, no impatience of your own heart for action should he allowed to compel you to decide upon your course in the dark, or until the way is clear and the duty plain. God never requires us to walk in darkness, even for one single step. Therefore, inexorably refuse to answer any question or decide any matter until you know what you are doing. Guess work and stumbling are never necessary. Wait for God. You are trying to go faster than He is moving. Wait until He comes up, and then the way will no longer lie in darkness.

There is a bit of Scripture which says, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.” Psalms 37:23. Mark, it is our steps that He orders. He does not give us a map of the world with all our paths traced out upon it, so that we can see our whole course for years. He orders our steps. And that means that He will always show us one step but it is the next step that He shows, not one a mile ahead. And this next step will always lie in the light, although the second step may yet be hidden in the darkness, and must be waited for. But the one step is the only one you need to take this moment.

You may think that you must answer some question or decide some matter immediately, even though it is all dark to you, and your answer or decision must be only a guess. Nay, wait for God. When He comes you will be able to answer or decide clearly. If you compel yourself to make a decision in the dark, in uncertainty, it is not God’s leading. You have decided too soon. Tomorrow or a few days or weeks hence it may appear to you to have been a wrong decision but then it will be too late to change it. Wait for the Lord.

Another application of this lesson is with, reference to suffering wrongs at the hands of others. Naturally we all like to take care of our own rights. We start up quickly in self-defense when we are assailed, when anyone speaks against us or harms us in any way. But this is not the Christian way. The gospel of Christ leaves very small room for self - defense. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also.” “Do not take revenge, my friends.” So runs the law of Christian life.

What shall we do, then, when others defame us, or say false things of us, or seek to harm us? Two things: our simple duty, and then, wait for the Lord. Vindication is better left with Him. That is what this same Psalm teaches in verses 5 and 6: “Commit your way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your judgment as the noonday.” We may safely leave our name, our reputation, our character, in God’s hands when we are innocent of the things men charge against us. If we quietly go on with our work and our duty God will take care that in the end vindication shall come.

It is better usually that we should not meddle with the matter at all. Our impatience, our hurry to help God vindicate us, ofttimes only does harm. Be silent and wait for the Lord. We cannot go on without God; to do so is to walk in darkness. But if we would have God with us, we must wait for Him. We must wait for Him to work out His providences, until His purpose has been accomplished; meanwhile trusting Him and resting in His love. We must wait for Him to come to our relief, when we are in circumstances of trial and perplexity. We must wait for Him to answer our prayers, not losing heart because He sometimes delays. We must wait for Him in our work for others, in trying to help them, lest in our eagerness we hasten the processes of His will and stunt or mar or destroy that which with patience would have been beautiful. We must wait for God in every step of our life.

Peace comes in waiting for God. It is our restlessness that makes life so painful for many of us. “Does your limb hurt you severely?” asked one of a friend who lay with a broken leg. “Not when I keep still,” was the answer. If we would keep still when trial is upon us, and be silent to God we would have power.

It is a lesson of hope, too, as well as of faith. The things that perplex and try us, are God’s unfinished works. When they are finished, there will be no confusion, no evil, no hurt in them. Bear the pain now for pain is God’s way to health. Accept the cross now for the cross is God’s way to the crown. Endure the plowshare that drives now through your field for it is God’s way to a golden harvest. Be patient with the slowness of Providence, for God works for eternal years. Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him. The finished work by and by, will explain all that is now dark and hard and slow.

[kalpeshastro]

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[mistypurplespark]

Chapter 35: Snowy Night

Chapter 35.1: Snowy Night

Translator(s): Zryuu

Editor(s): juurensha

King Akele helped Chen Xing settle down in the stone house first, fed his horse, then went out again within the twinkling of an eye.

Chen Xing was used to communicating with him through gestures as they couldn’t understand each other, so he didn’t ask what he went out to do either. He only said, “I’ll go roam around the city.”

He had always liked strolling around whenever he visited a new place. Now that it was near the New Year, he only had three years left to live, so what else could he do? All he could do now was explore and broaden his horizons through new experiences. King Akele helped him wear a necklace made out of wolf teeth that was adorned with colourful gems; he did it mainly to differentiate his identity from everyone else, lest he get snatched away by the Xiongnu people.

Four hundred years, it had been a whole four hundred years. The traces of war left behind during the Han dynasty had already been gently smoothed out by time; the only monument left behind was the old imperial court of the Xiongnu’s, situated in the middle of the city built from black stones. Xiongnus, Rourans, and even Tiele people had once occupied this place. Chen Xing walked towards the stone palace, feeling as if he could still see the glory it once possessed.

A group of Xiongnus were warming themselves by a fire in the imperial court. When they saw that a Han had come, they scrutinised him out of curiosity for awhile, and eventually someone invited him for a drink. Chen Xing greeted them simply, then went back to get some rations and shared it with them.

“What kind of place is this?” Chen Xing turned once around and suddenly saw that in the depths of the imperial palace garden stood a square tower.

The Xiongnus couldn’t understand what Chen Xing was saying either, so both sides could only rely on gesticulations in order to communicate. Chen Xing stood in front of the tower and noticed the pattern formed with stone tiles on the ground......

This was an array! It was a Defense Wall!

Chen Xing immediately strode over in a hurry. He hadn’t expected to see ruins left behind by exorcists before silence fell on all magic in a place so far away from the Central Plains!

What was this Defense Wall used for?

Besides the mirror world, this was his first time seeing such an array in reality.

There was a stone gate in front of the square tower that weighed about 10,000 jin. Chen Xing tried to push it open a few times, but the stone gate didn’t even budge an inch. Aside from that, the whole tower situated in the middle of the array was sealed airtight; it didn’t even have a single window.

There must be a magic treasure inside, and Chen Xing thought, forget it, I shouldn’t touch it.

There was a small spiritual lock on the stone gate painted with molten gold, and Chen Xing recognised its use was to open the gate. The one who designed this tower was rather ingenious. Before silence fell on all magic, exorcists with powerful magical powers only needed to muster the spiritual Qi of heaven and earth and inject it into the gate through the spiritual lock before the gate could be opened.

When the spiritual Qi of heaven and earth got restored, he could come back to take a look. Chen Xing was confident that he could open this lock.

King Akele returned with a deer he had hunted over his shoulder. A few Xiongnu who had been warming themselves by the fire in the imperial court helped him barbeque the meat. King Akele was clearly getting on in years as he was now short of breath. After chasing that deer for a long time, he was thoroughly exhausted and had to sit in front of the campfire to take

some time to settle down. Then he noticed Chen Xing’s worried gaze and smiled at him.

Chen Xing couldn’t help but think, if my Father were still alive, he would also be like this ba.

Once upon a time in Jinyang, his father had only had his son when he was forty, so he pampered Chen Xing a lot. Yet he didn’t spoil Chen Xing into becoming an embroidered pillow. Instead, he would often warn him that the world was in chaos and had not settled down, how difficult the ways of the world were, the rise and fall of dynasties, the devastating wars that lasted for many years, how the Hu and Han killed each other, yet it was always the common people who suffered. While a man is alive, he must have an indomitable spirit and only focus on four matters: cultivating his moral character, governing his household, ruling the country, and pacifying the country. One must remember at all costs not to sink into the mire of hatred and set off disputes between the Hu and Han because of one’s personal grudges.

Aside from that, he should also be upright, dignified, and be a person of unflinching integrity, so that he could bring honour to the Chen family in the future.

This was what made Chen Xing cultivate an excellent temper after reading the books of sages. Unless absolutely necessary, he would try his best to not be at odds with people. Theoretically speaking, one should cultivate one’s self first before setting up a family, then governing the country and pacifying the lands. When the responsibility of “pacifying the lands” was imposed on him, Chen Xing barely hesitated before accepting it like it was natural.

King Akele gasped for a while and finally felt better.

“You’re old, so don’t torment yourself like that anymore,” Chen Xing said, “It’s the same even if we eat rations.”

King Akele couldn’t understand him, yet he smiled to signal to Chen Xing that he was fine. Chen Xing felt his heart ache a little. He unfolded the map to ascertain how much more time they needed.

“Youduo, my son,” King Akele suddenly said in broken Han language, “I want to come, protect you, you, be okay.”

Chen Xing, “...”

King Akele continued, “I, can’t not care, thank, thank you.”

Chen Xing instantly teared up a little. These few sentences in the Han language must have been learnt from the Consort.

“Thank you, Chen Xing.” King Akele took the roasted deer leg and shared some with Chen Xing.

Chen Xing nodded and reluctantly smiled.

That night, howls of wolves could be heard outside Longcheng. Chen Xing couldn’t help but worry; he was afraid that they would bump into a pack of wild wolves when they continued their journey the next day. In fact, they had already encountered several lone, wild wolves on their way here, and a few would often follow them. Fortunately, King Akele was a master of archery and would always be able to get them out of danger before their horse received a fright.

But upon hearing that noise, one could feel that they were surrounded by wolves on all sides. It was winter in the twelfth lunar month; it was difficult to find food in the snowfield, so the wolves formed packs in order to fight for food with the Hu people in the city.

The next morning, the wolves stopped howling. King Akele didn’t say anything and continued their journey, yet he was on high alert along the way. After leaving Longcheng, they entered an area with a huge lake in Barkol. After crossing the frozen lake, they continued travelling north. There were more and more trees now. Sometimes, the mountains and fields would all be covered with frost. The two of them moved through the forest in a zigzag fashion. They spent the night in a cave, and soon, they were gradually reaching the end of their journey that had stretched for 800 li.

And Carosha, the place that had only existed in legends, could not be seen yet. Misty fog filled their vision. King Akele had already brought Chen

Xing to a place that barely had any signs of human inhabitation. Aside from snow, there was only more snow. There would only be a short three months of spring and summer here every year, and the two of them would often not say even a single word to each other for the entire day.

Until one night when they spent the night under a tree, and the snow had stopped, and the world was incomparably tranquil. The starry river in the night sky flickered. Chen Xing scrutinised the map, thinking that they shouldn’t have gone the wrong way. They had always been advancing in the direction of the North Star.

King Akele’s white, grizzled beard seemed even longer after combing it. His pair of deep, blue eyes had been constantly affixed to the bonfire. Chen Xing kept the map, and just when he was about to sleep, he suddenly heard a deep wolf howl at the end of the mountain ridges in the distance. Soon after, the howls of wolves rang out one after another in all directions.

“There are a lot of wolves,” Chen Xing said.

King Akele fanned the bonfire to rage even brighter, signalling to him that he need not be scared and to go to sleep.

“Akeles,” Chen Xing said, “Have you been here before?”

King Akele couldn’t understand him. He shook his head and made a bed for Chen Xing, signalling for him to just sleep.

“Thank you,” Chen Xing said.

“Thank you.” King Akele didn’t know much Han language and could only say this.

Chen Xing lay on his side. The howling of wolves continued, which annoyed him a great deal, and he couldn’t sleep for a long time.

“Stop howling!” Chen Xing got up in frustration and shouted.

King Akele let out a ‘shh’ and made a gesture to motion that there was a mountain in the distance, so he shouldn’t trigger an avalanche.

So Chen Xing could only lie back down. Suddenly, he heard a strange sound coming from the ground -- this was how Xiang Shu had heard the invasion of the living corpse army. It was an extremely weak sound, yet it put him on alert.

King Akele was sitting as he kept vigil. Chen Xing immediately beckoned for him to listen to the ground. When King Akele crouched down, Chen Xing saw glittering green lights appear in their surroundings, winking to life like fireflies that were wandering back and forth.

“What are those?” Chen Xing said, “It’s winter, how could there be fire..” Then he immediately realised that those were the wolves’ eyes! The wolf pack had come!

King Akele slowly got up and surveyed their surroundings. He threw all of their firefood into the bonfire pile at once, added some butter, and the flames instantly soared up into the sky. Thousands of wild wolves circled them but couldn’t help backing away. Chen Xing became nervous, yet King Akele said something.

“What?” Chen Xing, “I don’t understand!”

King Akele nocked an arrow on his bow. The wolf pack was wandering around the periphery of the bonfire, yet they feared the flames and didn’t dare lean in too close.

King Akele shook his head, signalling to Chen Xing that he need not worry. Chen Xing also knew that as long as they had fire, the wolves wouldn’t get too close to them. This was how they had travelled all the way here.

However, a figure swept by above them, then a huge pile of snow suddenly fell from the trees high above that crushed the bonfire.

Then another “wuu--” sounded, as if a wolf was urging the rest. King Akele immediately aimed at the place where the sound came from and released his arrow!

That arrow shot into the darkness. Without waiting for him to nock another arrow, the wolf pack took advantage of the extinguishing of the bonfire and

lunged at them!

King Akele immediately retreated and roared at Chen Xing. Chen Xing didn’t even have to guess that he was telling him to run. He grabbed a bow at once and shot at the forest!

The wolf pack swarmed over and soon swallowed up the two, yet their target was King Akele!

Their surroundings plunged into darkness. King Akele roared angrily and struggled.

“Akeles!” Chen Xing shouted. He immediately raised his hand and released the light of the Heart Lamp.

The wolf pack seemed to be startled and started retreating one after another. Chen Xing turned back to look for their horse, yet their horse had disappeared. There were wolves everywhere. He kept evading them, wanting to look for King Akele.

A black figure descended from the sky. When Chen Xing heard it, he instantly looked up -- a metal claw that flickered with a cold glint was already at his throat.

Right at that moment, a familiar voice shouted, “Get down!”

Chen Xing subconsciously arched his neck, and the metal claw brushed obliquely across his face. The strange light on the claw flickered, then a sword flew out from behind him that blocked the metal claw. With a swing, it hurled the assassin brutally onto a tree. Accompanied by an angry roar, the entire tree broke into half through its middle and collapsed with all the snow on it!

“Xiang Shu?!” Chen Xing said, “Xiang Shu! Why are you here?”

“Idiot!” Xiang Shu was furious. “I have been chasing you two for seven days! Get up the tree!”

Chen Xing climbed up, slid down, climbed up, slid down, climbed up slid down climbed up slid down climbed up slid down... Xiang Shu finally lost

patience. He lifted his leg and kicked Chen Xing at his waist to send him flying up the tree. Chen Xing hugged the tree tightly and continued climbing up, then shouted downwards, “Find Akeles!”

Xiang Shu swung his huge sword out -- the surrounding trees were all chopped down one after another and collapsed with an earthshaking rumble. The wolf pack fled in all directions, leaving Chen Xing behind who held onto a pine tree that was nearly three feet tall as he swayed from side to side at the top of the tree.

“Behind you!” Chen Xing saw it, but was it a human or yao?!

Translator's Comment:

Fanart for the last part hahah:

CX: Xiang Shu! Why are you here? XS: Idiot! Get up the tree!

XS: …

XS: I’ll send you up!

Chapter 35.2: Snowy Night

Translator(s): Zryuu

Editor(s): juurensha

The assassin was extremely small and didn’t even reach half of Xiang Shu’s height. With both hands and legs, the assassin darted over from the snowfield and was behind Xiang Shu within the blink of an eye. Xiang Shu immediately turned around and brandished his sword horizontally to block. With a “clang”, the two metal weapons collided, and within the blink of an eye, that shadows swept to the back of Xiang Shu and reached out to claw at his neck!

It was too fast! Chen Xing had thought that no one could rival Xiang Shu in terms of speed, but he didn’t expect that this black shadow would seem as if it was flying on the snow fields. Xiang Shu turned around, then turned again, yet the black shadow followed him relentlessly. It threw itself onto his back and firmly attached itself onto Xiang Shu’s back!

With both legs wrapped around the tree, Chen Xing gathered a snowball in his hands and threw it down.

A snowball flew over and hit that black shadow right on its face. Xiang Shu let out an angry roar, grabbed the black shadow, and flung him away!

“It’s a yao!” Chen Xing said, “Wait for me, I’ll come down and help you!”

Xiang Shu finally saw the black shadow clearly -- only to see a damn creature that was half-wolf and half-human. A human’s face appeared within the wolf’s mouth, and it howled hoarsely at Xiang Shu a few times, then it looked up to see Chen Xing, who was on the tree. It lunged over, its metal claws hooking into the tree, and it had already leapt several zhang high within the blink of an eye. Xiang Shu immediately gave chase, yet Chen Xing didn’t dare to jump down and suddenly saw the enemy right in front of him.

“You are...” In a panic, Chen Xing illuminated his surroundings with the Heart Lamp and instantly saw this guy in full view.

It wasn’t a wolf yao, and neither was it a monster -- it was a person! It was a child!

The child was first dazzled by the white light, then he used his arm to cover his eyes and swung his metal claws. The edge of his claws revealed a peculiar rune under the illumination of the Heart Lamp’s light.

Those claws flickered with a phosphorescent light, and it was in the shape of dragon claws. But there were extremely few claw weapons in the world in the shape of dragon claws, and the gold inscription on these dragon claws... for some reason, Chen Xing unexpectedly recalled the records he had seen in ancient texts.

In ancient times, the Dragon God descended upon a place far north of the Divine Land. Its claws were obtained by Gongshu Ban and refined into a sacred weapon in the human world. It was called...

Cangqiong Yilie!

“Hold on!” Chen Xing said, “Why do you have...” “Wait!”

“Roar!”

“Listen to me!” Chen Xing became frantic. “Listen to what I’m saying! You damn brat!”

With the skin of a gray wolf draped over him, the child wore a hat made from a wolf’s head and was clamping down on the tree trunk with both his legs. He swiftly clawed towards Chen Xing’s throat to slit it.

Under the tree, Xiang Shu released several arrows in succession. The child gave up on Chen Xing, and without even looking back, he turned around and swung his metal claws. With three “ding”s, he actually managed to block the arrows and send them flying away.

“I said! Listen to me!!” Chen Xing exploded. He grabbed a handful of snow and harshly smacked it on the child’s face.

Perhaps it was because Chen Xing had appeared too useless, so the child didn’t guard against him at all. Unexpectedly, he lost his balance in an instant after getting hit and fell down the tree, causing the leaves to rustle along the way. Xiang Shu gave chase until he was underneath the tree, yet the child lunged in midair, rolled over, leapt several zhang, and landed steadily on the snowfield. He raised his head slightly.

“Aowu--” The child looked up to the sky and let out a wolf’s howl.

The wolf pack retreated one by one. Xiang Shu was about to take his bow and arrow out when within the blink of an eye, that child had led the wolf pack to retreat completely and disappeared into the forest.

Chen Xing, “...”

Xiang Shu gasped for breath. Outside the forest just now, his horse had already run away from fright. He had rushed over the whole way the moment he had heard the wolves howling, and he had run almost three miles over here.

Chen Xing, “It was human! It was a small kid!”

Xiang Shu said impatiently, “I saw! It’s not like I’m blind!”

Chen Xing ran to Xiang Shu’s side and looked at the direction in which the wolf pack left. He said, “Also, he wasn’t wearing clothes! And he didn’t seem to understand what we were saying.”

Xiang Shu practically didn’t know what to do with him anymore. He kept his weapon on his back, clutched Chen Xing’s collar, and pushed him to one side. He shouted angrily, “Why did you run out of Chi Le Chuan without saying a word?! Did I ever even cross your mind?!”

“Uh...” Only then did Chen Xing realise this serious problem. He answered, “Don’t... don’t get angry, I just didn’t want you to...”

In the past several days, Xiang Shu had departed from Chi Le Chuan, but he just couldn’t catch up to King Akele and Chen Xing no matter what he did. The heavy snowfall had covered their horse’s hoof-prints, and King Akele was an experienced old hunter as well. Xiang Shu chased them all the way to Barkol lake, yet he was always just a little bit behind the two of them.

Along the whole way, the more he gave chase, the angrier Xiang Shu had grown. From the very beginning when he had wanted to give Chen Xing a good scolding after catching up to him, it changed to giving him a slap, then as his patience had worn away, now he just wanted to hang Chen Xing up and give him a few good slaps.

Chen Xing suddenly laughed and said, “This is great! I’m so happy!”

Then Chen Xing took a step forward and hugged Xiang Shu around his waist and buried his head in his chest, saying, “This is great!!”

“Get lost!” Xiang Shu was about to go mad with anger. He grabbed Chen Xing and dragged him away.

Chen Xing explained with a smile, “King Akele said that he could show me the way. I didn’t want to trouble you... wait! Where’s King Akele?”

Both of them suddenly remembered, then immediately went to search for King Akeles along the direction in which the wolf pack left. Xiang Shu looked down to distinguish the footprints on the snow, but the ground was already in a mess. Chen Xing ran to the front of the extinguished bonfire and said seriously, “Here! This was where I last heard his voice...”

What Chen Xing was most afraid of was seeing King Akele’s corpse, but fortunately he didn’t. In the dark night, Xiang Shu said, “If he’s dead, that’ll be on you!”

Chen Xing was at a loss for a moment and just stood in the snow. Xiang Shu was extremely angry at Chen Xing for leaving Chi Le Chuan so arbitrarily, so he spoke without concern for his words in a fury. When he snapped out of it, he thought that he had overstepped. King Akele escorted Chen Xing all the way to the north because he himself wanted to uncover the truth, so how could Chen Xing be blamed?

Xiang Shu saw that Chen Xing looked like he was about to cry and suddenly felt very guilty.

“He won’t.” But Chen Xing resumed his calm very quickly and pulled himself together. He said, “The wolf pack didn’t attack us because they wanted to eat us, instead, they had followed us the whole way here. I’m guessing it must have something to do with that child. They wouldn’t kill people indiscriminately. Akeles! Are you there?!”

Xiang Shu breathed a sigh of relief and followed Chen Xing. Chen Xing struggled to walk through the forest as he shouted in all directions. They couldn’t find King Akeles, yet they had found the lost horse.

Xiang Shu whistled, and his horse returned as well.

They were at the boundary of the woods, and the wolves’ footprints led far away. The sky was gradually becoming bright, and the vast expanse of snow was being lit up.

Chen Xing looked at Xiang Shu. Xiang Shu couldn’t make up his mind for a moment either and said, “Let’s give chase and see ba.” So the two mounted their horses and rode for half a mile in the wilderness. The sky was now bright, when Xiang Shu suddenly said, “Wait!”

Chen Xing saw King Akele’s wolf fang necklace lying quietly in the snow and finally felt relieved. From the looks of it, he had been captured by the wolf pack.

“Akeles!” Chen Xing looked around and shouted.

“He’s not called Akeles!” Xiang Shu corrected, “Akeles is a tribe name!” Chen Xing, “Oh... then what’s his name?”

Chen Xing held the necklace and thought that he had to save King Akele no matter what. Along the way here, they had established a strange kind of friendship. This middle-aged man obtained a son in his old age after experiencing the pain of losing his own son, and he had even treated this

young lad, Chen Xing, as a child. No matter what, Chen Xing must let him return alive.

Xiang Shu didn’t know what King Akele was really called either, and after thinking about it for a while, he could only change the subject and say, “Let’s go.”

“You obviously don’t know either.” Chen Xing said, then mounted his horse and followed the retreat route of the wolves.

Xiang Shu,” Ai!” Chen Xing, “?”

Chen Xing was on the horse as he glanced at Xiang Shu. Xiang Shu, “Do you not trust me?”

Chen Xing, “I just didn’t want to put you on the spot! You’re Chi Le Covenant’s Great Chanyu, and now there are drought fiends causing havoc too. You have so many people under you, how could you just throw them aside and leave?”

Xiang Shu, “Who was the one who said that he wanted a Protector to protect him?”

Chen Xing, “But do you have any intention of being my Protector? I can’t afford to have you! Great Chanyu!”

Xiang Shu uttered in disbelief, “I chased you for eight hundred miles! Can’t you say something nice? Fine! I’ll go back right now!”

Chen Xing still had some anxiety in his heart -- who on earth was that child? Why would he have such a powerful sacred weapon in his hands? And he had even less of a clue to the answer for the latter. When he heard Xiang Shu, he looked at Xiang Shu and suddenly, it hit him. He could vaguely sense the intention behind Xiang Shu’s words.

Xiang Shu was apologising to him.

“Then, thank you ah.” Chen Xing said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Xiang Shu, “...”

Xiang Shu urged his horse and wanted to lift Chen Xing up from his horse to teach him a lesson, yet Chen Xing urged his own horse forward and galloped away. Xiang Shu was astonished. “You’re so stable on a horse now?”

“Akeles taught me!” Chen Xing said, “Shoot me to death with your arrows ah!”

Xiang Shu urged his horse and caught up with Chen Xing in a flash. The two of them rode their horses side by side in the snow, yet their horses weren’t being very obedient. Especially the old, brown horse -- it would think of breaking free from the reins that were bound together from time to time, and it deviated farther and farther away the more it ran. It kept deviating towards the northeast along with Xiang Shu, who was riding it.

“This horse has gone crazy!” Xiang Shu exploded, “Come back!”

“Why are you venting your frustrations on a horse?” Chen Xing turned around to look at Xiang Shu, only to see the old horse constantly running towards the east. On the other hand, Xiang Shu was tugging on the reins forcefully and in a single breath, had dragged the old horse back.

Xiang Shu, “I’ll just let it go! This stubborn thing!”

Xiang Shu was scolding the horse, but Chen Xing naturally understood the insinuations behind it. Xiang Shu was in the middle of taking his dagger out to cut the reins when Chen Xing said, “That’s your mother’s horse, you can just release it if you want, what would that have to do with me?”

“What?” Xiang Shu was stunned and said, “Impossible! Where did you find it from?”

Chen Xing relayed the Consort’s words. Xiang Shu’s doubts grew even more and said, “This was the horse she rode on when she first came to the north?”

“Maybe.” Chen Xing saw the old horse gradually calm down and run with the rest.

Xiang Shu said, “Where does it want to go?”

Chen Xing naturally didn’t know. The sun rose, and the world lit up. The white snow shone brightly and blinded their eyes, but fortunately, it didn’t snow again that night. The wolf pack’s paw prints were distinct and easy to recognise. After crossing the vast plains, they continued heading into the distance to the end in sight.

And in that place, the legendary mountain mentioned in the legends of the Xiongnu people finally appeared within the misty fog.

A long and narrow mountain range that stretched for dozens of miles towered aloft. White clouds curled around their snow-capped peaks, and the entire mountain range seemed to have been split into three by lightning, with a narrow cliff in its midst.

In front of the cliff was a lake that occupied a thousand qing, and it reflected the blazing sunlight like a mirror.

On both sides of the cliff, the white snowfields were dotted with black dots that stood in great numbers, and crouching high above--

-- were more than ten thousand black wolves.

The horses began to panic and retreated one after another.

[nfumbewalk]

Hmm.

Here is a nice altar picture, though I blocked the sigils drawn on the candles. No one's business but my client.

Don't know what to think...lost a follower. Oh well! I move on. Gen X'er types like me don't really give a shit. 😂 One candle is white, one is yellow

Things are so great on the magic & muerto fronts! My magic with Rodolfo is spot on with our client. She asked for longer work because she loves the energy she's getting! Nice. I'm using 7 candles & 6 glasses of water and the power is so strong. When alone, I generally use 3 glasses of water & 4 candles, but more if using a circle spread.

The ones pictured here are in a semi-triangular form, though it's hard to see from the photo. When triangles are used, it signifies "putting the muertos to work." I learned this from a book on espiritismo. A good one! One that I read recently, "Mesa Blanca" Is a recent shit book!! Anyhoo! Good thing it was Kindle Unlimited! This has saved me tons of money!!

Some may wonder why water and so much of it, and the same with the candles? The water quenches the spiritual thirst of the muertos, it helps their desires become clear, and also gives them enough emotional fortitude to stay and visit. The flames give them life energy and sustenance for as long as they can visit. No one knows about this, because I've received this from the muertos from channeling as I write.

I'm going to drop some info to my therapist. He's very, very interested. I was thinking the other day - ppl seem into necromancy these days, but in the occult field, NO one is REALLY doing the REAL thing! Yeah - talk to the muertos & it *may* work - your planchette on your Ouija may move. But does a solid muerto walk behind you and whisper "Howdy," in your ear, while feeling his hot breath? Or scratch at the bathroom door trying to rouse you for attention? My muerto is well behaved. Some may not be.

I'm getting more ideas for my book and I'm jotting things down. It's going to be an almost massive feat to get my book going but...my husband just started updating his freaking *sweet* laptop for me!! Woot! 😁 It's not brand new but it was only lightly used & it's a ThinkPad! 💖 Love those since I had a 286 or 386 version back in the 90's! Now I'll have a legit word processor. Cool!

So, ppl probably wonder why ppl like me love muertos. Hard to explain, really. It can get spooky at times, but not for me. I'm not scared of any muerto. I've encountered Rodolfo's muerto friends.

And a ton of other muertos! When you're as psychic as me, you get used to this stuff eventually. Ppl get super interested when I mention my close touches with death & Santa Muerte. Just two life changing events, but very serious and REAL af! Both experiences changed me.

And my traumatic jail experience as well. 2 weeks is enough! One reason for my therapy visits. I lost a very thick head of hair - now I have very thin, long hair. It didn't grow back like it did after the 2 week coma. Yes, it's 2 weeks with me for some strange fucking reason. 🤷 A hair dresser told me that with trauma, the hair takes a rest. Then when things are no longer a threat, the hair resumes growth. Then you shed hair. It's supposed to come back. After jail, it fell out & never resumed. Sooo...very rarely, I wear my hair down. It's embarrassing.

Welp, that's exposing myself! Oh, I don't care! Might as well be honest because I expect honesty back from others. I despise liars. Like one of my favorite musicians, Johnny Rotten (John Lydon). He had a song about liars. I agree with him. He's an ex-pat Republican. Love him. 💖 Some hate him. Don't care! Music? I'll say: The longest is:

The Rolling Stones, don't even touch their ancient asses! I was raised, fed, and indoctrinated with The Stones since I was born. I know just about everything about the band history. Stones geek. My favorite Stone is Keith Richards (or Richard, in the early 60's). Fuck the Beatles. My mom said the Stones were "dirty and uncouth" and ppl didn't agree with their image & sex appeal. She loved them because of this and her pen pal in England sent her lots of clippings from the papers and magazines about the Stones.

I love: Sisters of Mercy, Joy Division, The Damned, Siouxsie & the Banshees, PiL (Public Image Limited), Southern Death Cult/Death Cult/The Cult, Bauhaus, Peter Murphy, Tones on Tail, Love & Rockets & lots of 90's gothic & industrial like Switchblade Symphony, London After Midnight, Corpus Delicti, Sunshine Blind, Voodoo Church, NIN, Frontline Assembly, Crystal Method & Chemical Brothers. :wumpscut: too, but they're a bit later.

How the fuck did I get on this topic? Hell knows!

Need to talk more necro!

So it goes! 💖💀💖

[astrothoughts123]

Best Gemologist in Chennai - Astro Thoughts

Ethics and Gemology, the study of precious and semi-precious gemstones, has long captivated people. These superb gemstones are esteemed essentially for their stylish allure yet in addition to their puzzling characteristics and the huge impact that they might have on our lives. One name stands out in the world of Top Gemologist in Chennai, a city known for its thriving gemstone industry and rich cultural history. Integrity Astro Thoughts, known for its thorough knowledge and experience, is widely regarded as the best gemologist in Chennai. This article delves into their path, accomplishments, distinctive practices, and the reasons behind their respected standing in the business community.

Overview

Astro Thoughts was founded by a group of experienced and dedicated gemologists and astrologers who wanted to bring gemology up to date and make it easier to understand. Perceiving the significant job gemstones play in working on human prosperity, the pioneers imagined a help that joins conventional insight with state-of-the-art innovation to give exact and commonsense counsel. Astro Thoughts has gained a reputation over the years for its precise analysis, extensive reports, and tailored consultations, assisting countless people in harnessing the power of gemstones.

Different Techniques and Specialists

Astro Thoughts distinguishes itself from other gemologists with its unique blend of ancient and modern gemological procedures. They are convinced that gemology is more than simply the physical features of gemstones; it is also about its spiritual properties and ability to improve human well-being. Here are some of their main expertise and practices:

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Shri. Nallakutalam is an expert at gemstone identification and grading. He cautiously analyzes each stone to decide its worth, quality, and realness. He uses cutting-edge tools and equipment to evaluate the color, clarity, cut, and carat weight of precious stones so that his clients only receive the best stones.

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He utilizes his understanding of gemstones' beneficial responsibilities in his sessions. He thinks that gemstones have the potential to improve a person's physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. Based on a person's birth chart and specific requirements, he suggests a few gemstones that may help them feel happier, support healing, and balance their energies.

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He specializes in custom gemstone jewelry, uniting with amazing artisans to create bespoke pieces that not only represent the beauty of the gemstones but fulfill the client's astrological and therapeutic expectations. His unique creations gain respect for their beauty, design, and personal touch.

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In a culture where astrology is important, He specializes in astrological gemstone recommendations. He consistently analyzes his clients' birth charts to figure out which gemstones are most useful to them. His advice should aim to maximize positive planetary influences while minimizing negative ones to achieve harmony and balance.

Ethical Sourcing and Sustainability

He is dedicated to ethical sourcing and sustainability in gemology. He assures that all of the gemstones he works with are properly gathered, with little environmental impact and fair human methods. His dedication to ethical methods has earned him the trust and respect of both his clients and colleagues.

Integrating New Technologies

Astro Thoughts has adopted current technology to reach a larger audience. They provide the  best online consultations, making it convenient for clients from all over the world to seek expert advice. Their educational website and strong social media presence offer useful gemological insights and updates.

They provide regular updates on new gemstone discoveries, therapeutic applications, and insightful essays to assist people in comprehending the influence of gemstones in their lives via their digital platforms. This proactive strategy guarantees that their followers are well-informed and can make sound selections about their gemstone purchases.

Future Prospects Of Gemology

Astro Thoughts believes that gemology will change and adapt to meet society's evolving requirements. They highlight the necessity of continual learning and keeping up with the latest advances in their industry. They believe that the fundamental core of online gemstone advice is to provide individuals with important advice and support, allowing them to live fulfilling lives.

They predict a future in which gemology is combined with other studies to provide a more complete picture of human behavior and well-being. Astro Thoughts continues to participate in research and cooperation to bridge the gap between traditional gemological techniques and new scientific discoveries. This forward-thinking strategy helps their services remain relevant and impactful in a constantly changing world.

Moral Practices and Respectability

One of the keystones of Astro Thoughts' practice is its everlasting dedication to ethical standards and honesty. They believe that gemology should be used properly and ethically to assist people to improve their lives. They are known for being honest and transparent throughout consultations, making sure their clients obtain precise and impartial data.

Astro Thoughts is strongly opposed to the use of gemology for financial gain or to abuse individuals in need. They promote ethical standards in the gemologist in chennai community and regularly educate their consumers on the significance of receiving advice from qualified and experienced gemologists. Their sincerity and ethical attitude have gained them the trust and respect of both clients and colleagues.

In addition to their successful careers, the Astro Thoughts founders are dedicated individuals who place high importance on their ties. They frequently cite their family's support and encouragement as critical reasons for their achievement. In their extra time, they appreciate perusing, reflecting, and learning new otherworldly practices. These activities not only enrich their personal lives but also help them become better professionals, enabling them to offer their customers advice that is deeper and more insightful.

Conclusion

Astro Thoughts' transformation from a creative concept to a major name in Best Gemologist in Chennai shows their dedication, experience, and steadfast commitment to the science of gemstones. Their unique blend of old wisdom and modern approaches has established them as a reliable advisor for numerous individuals. Astro Thoughts continues to impact and improve lives, whether through in-depth gemstone analyses, intelligent therapy advice, or custom jewelry designs.

Astro Thoughts is a beacon of hope and wisdom in the field of gemology, providing clarity, guidance, and a greater understanding of the impact of gemstones on people's lives. Reach us by email or contact us at + (91) 8879798701. Our group will answer quickly to satisfy your needs. We anticipate associating with you soon! Their contributions to the field and the community at large demonstrate the significant impact that dedicated and ethical gemologists can have on society.

[wisdomrays]

REFLECTIONS ON THE QUR'AN: Sūrah Tā-Hā: Part 3

(The Pharaoh said,) “Then, we will most certainly produce before you sorcery like it. So appoint a meeting between us and you, which neither we nor you will fail to keep, in an open, level place convenient (to both of us).” (Moses) said: “The meeting will be on the Day of the Festival, and let the people assemble in the forenoon.” (Tā-Hā 20:58–59)

How many dazzling lights and mysteries flow into our spirits from the verses above, the first addressee of which was Prophet Moses, peace be upon him. Having had a mysterious experience of speaking to God in the valley of Tuwa in the Sinai, having seen his staff change into a snake and his right hand become a shining hand, and having felt his theoretical certainty transformed into experienced certainty, this exalted Prophet had perfect confidence in and reliance on his Lord. Therefore, when the Pharaoh challenged Moses to a contest against the sorcerers of Egypt, Moses was perfectly sure that he would defeat the Pharaoh’s sorcerers regardless of what they would do. Hence, based on his Prophetic insight, Moses made the offer, “The meeting will be on the Day of the Festival, and let the people assemble in the forenoon.” Through this counterchallenge, Moses meant the following:

The competition which would distinguish right from wrong or truth from falsehood should not take place behind walls; rather, it should occur in an open, level place where people would be able to watch and witness.

The competition should take place on a festive day so that whoever wanted to watch it could come.

Forenoon was the most convenient time for such an encounter. It is a time when people are free from exhaustion and drowsiness and feel energetic and vigorous. Also, it is the best time for minds to think and judge.

Thus, in order to watch the competition between Moses and the sorcerers, the people of Egypt came to the meeting area in crowds in the early morning on the Day of Festival. Sorcery was a popular and esteemed occupation in Egypt at that time. Sorcerers were not ordinary people; they were the intellectual elite of the time, who could contact jinn and who had certain knowledge of spiritism or spiritualism and parapsychology. Therefore, their defeat in the face of Moses and their possible conversion would mark the beginning of a revolution in the country in favor of belief. And so it came to pass. Having understood that the miracles God created at the hand of Moses were not magic or sorcery, the sorcerers believed in Moses’ Message immediately despite the Pharaoh’s threats that he would hang them and cut off their hands and feet alternately.[1] Many among the common people who witnessed the submission of the elite to Moses came to belief, and doubts about their own religion appeared in the hearts of many others. The goal was achieved and absolute unbelief was broken. People in general came to the point where they felt hesitant to choose between Moses and the Pharaoh, who had made his subjects ascribe Divine power to him, telling them that he knew no god for them but himself.

The most significant point drawing our attention in this verse is the time and place which Moses chose for that important encounter. There are important lessons in this event that today’s Muslims will learn. First of all, a believer should never despair because of the lack of or shortage in material necessities. They should use the credit that God granted them carefully without wasting it. As the proverb says, “killing two birds with one stone,” a Muslim should always plan to be able to achieve not only two but hundreds of results with one action and search for the ways to succeed in doing so. Consider how, according to God’s usual practice, a seed buried in the earth grows into an ear containing hundreds of seeds of the same kind or into a tree producing hundreds of fruits. Thus should we try to act in a way that we sow one grain but harvest seven, seventy, or even seven hundred in return and in the name of serving belief, the Qur’ān, our nation, and the whole of humanity. This was what Moses did. When, having left the Pharaoh’s palace and come into the open, he expressed himself in front of all people and on a proper day in full trust in and reliance on God, he was able to influence thousands of people with one act, making many among them his followers.

This is what the Qur’ān teaches us by means of Moses, while the Sunnah of Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, contributes to our understanding with a different event:[2]

According to a report from the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings, a tyrant attempted to kill a young believer, who never agreed to return to the tyrant’s faith. He was thrown down from the top of a mountain, yet he came back walking. Then he was thrown into the roaring waves of a sea, but he was saved and returned. Whatever they did to kill that young believer, it proved useless. In the end, the young man said: “If you gather all the people together and shoot an arrow at me saying, ‘In the name of the Lord of this boy’, then you will be able to kill me.”

A believer should always think like this young man: “You will die in any case, and these furious people will not let you live. Therefore, you should not go to the next world at a small cost.” Indeed, a believer should make plans to be able to do something for the sake of their cause even in their last moment as they go to their Lord. However valuable it is, even the desire for martyrdom is of little significance compared to a life lived with this consideration. In other words, believers should always think about what they can do at every moment of their life on behalf of their religion, nation, and humanity. The young man in the example would have only been martyred if he had died when he had been thrown down from the top of a mountain or into the waves of a sea. He would most possibly have gained his eternal life of happiness in the other world, but his reward would have been limited only to himself. However, after he was martyred in front of the people in the way he told, he caused hundreds of people to embrace belief. Thus he both served his cause and the conversion and eternal happiness of many others.

To conclude, Muslims should know the value of the Religion with which they are favored and the value this Religion has gained them. They should be aware of the fact that this universe has been created for them, with all that it contains at their service. Therefore, aware of their exceptional value, they should not leave this world in return for a low price. Their consideration should be as follows: “I am leaving the world, but I should leave a world which has found its true orbit—which has achieved its goal of creation. My death should also be a mysterious key to open the doors of Paradise for me, and while my personal tiny light is being distinguished, innumerable new lights should begin to shine.”

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Growing up in St. Charles, Illinois, Dallas Jenkins was not the child who was restless while sitting in the pews of church during a long service or in a classroom learning about the Bible. In fact, he was invigorated by Scripture lessons. And the Evangelical Christian, who would end up creating spiritual megahit The Chosen, always asked lots of questions.

Jenkins remembers seeing classic imagery of Jesus Christ while in classes, where the Son of God was dressed in immaculate white and blue robes on flannelgraph and picture books (so unlike The Chosen’s scruffy Savior, played by Jonathan Roumie). “He was just a big, smiling guy, and all the disciples are these old, bearded dudes,” the 48-year-old recalls. “But I was the one in class [asking], ‘What would it be like playing cards against Jesus? He always knows what you have! What would it be like to play sports with Jesus or to sit around a campfire [with Him]?’”

Now, Jenkins has brought those questions to life. The Chosen’s Jesus shares campfires with His Apostles and even joins in on a catching game with His hometown friends in Season 3. Maybe in Season 4 they can play the 1st century version of Go Fish?

(Credit: The Chosen)

Telling stories is in Jenkins’ blood, after all. He’s the son of prolific Christian author and New York Times bestselling author Jerry B. Jenkins, who has written over 200 books, including the Left Behind series (with coauthor Tim LaHaye) and three Chosen novelizations. Besides inheriting what Jenkins calls “the storytelling gene” from his father, inspiration was also found on the big screen, he notes, citing a moment from his high school years when he first saw the 1975 Jack Nicholson drama One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. “I was watching it, moved, with tears in my eyes, and I thought, ‘I want to do that.’ If I can arouse in viewers the kind of reaction that this did for me, maybe I could have some impact.”

After studying media and the Bible at the University of Northwestern–St. Paul and marrying his wife Amanda (the couple now have four children), Jenkins had some early career stumbles, and his first major feature, 2017 feel-good film The Resurrection of Gavin Stone, was a financial flop. He took his biggest — and most successful — swing when he created The Chosen.

The goal was to present a faithful Jesus who also felt fresh — unlike the one-dimensional Christ he encountered as a young Christian. “I grew up seeing a lot of portrayals of Jesus, a lot of paintings and stained-glass windows that didn’t feel very authentic,” he notes. The Chosen’s Jesus not only cracks jokes with a big grin, but He broods and gets emotional. And viewers see more than just the final results of His miracles — we see Him at work. Adds Jenkins: “The Chosen does not shy away from the fact that Jesus is the Son of God, capable of doing miracles.”

Jenkins also works some miracles of his own. In addition to being the show’s creator and an executive producer, he writes every episode with cowriters Tyler Thompson and Ryan Johnson (often in the wee hours) and, as if that wasn’t enough, he also directs every single episode. “I’m a bit of a control freak, so that’s part of it,” he says with a laugh. But it wasn’t ego or vanity that led him to helm each hour of the series. “I just felt like it was important for the show to have one voice and to be cohesive, because we shoot it like one big narrative,” he says, referencing recent prestige dramas with one mind at the wheel like Big Little Lies and The White Lotus. “We don’t shoot it episode by episode.”

And as busy as he is behind the scenes, Jenkins also steps in front of the camera for The Chosen’s seemingly never-ending fountain of social media and video content — from showing off the latest swag (sweatshirts! coffee mugs!) to interviewing his own cast about their experiences on set. Might we see the charismatic creative in a role on the biblical drama? Don’t hold your breath. “If you saw me in the background, it would feel like, ‘OK, there’s Dallas trying to talk to us about crowdfunding Season 5 right in the middle of this [episode],’” Jenkins says. “I’m comfortable just keeping that in the studio.”

That’s probably a good thing, since the busy creator definitely needs some time to unwind. “I really do need to rest more,” Jenkins agrees. “It’s not the physical exhaustion of [making the show], although that is tiring. I’ve got a lot of energy. But I need to take more mental breaks and more spiritual breaks, so I’m not just spending time telling stories about Jesus. Sometimes I need to spend time with Him.”

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Best Places to Eat in Aegina, Greece

The island is busier than Mykonos or Santorini but remains tolerable. It’s still easy to escape the crowds even during high season and enjoy everything from beautiful beaches to a wonderful church. If you are a fan of goat’s milk, don’t miss out on visiting the dairy in picturesque Sfentouri or try their delicious risogalo (rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon). They also make fantastic products from sheep and cow’s milk.

Karnagio Beach

Aegina Island is among the best cruise islands near Athens to relax on a sandy beach and enjoy some of Greece's finest seafood at tavernas. You can also sample a variety of cocktails at the island's quality beach bars. If you want a modern gourmet experience, Kappos Etsi is one of the top restaurants in Aegina. Located behind the port in a stone building with a wine-coloured courtyard, chef Dimitris spins Greek classics into out of this world dishes like baked octopus and his signature kappos etsi pie stacked with feta, mince and parsley. For authentic meze, try Nontas tavern in Perdika or Kriton Gefseis for musical meze and raki. Or enjoy a cocktail at Inn on the Beach, a perky seafront favourite close to Aegina Town, and feel the gentle spray of the setting sun ruffle your bare ankles. Afterwards, take in the spectacular Temple of Apollo, a knockout from 480 BC and part of the Sacred Triangle with the Parthenon in Athens.

Souvala Beach

There’s no shortage of beach-themed activities on Aegina, with the most frantic waterside action taking place on the east coast at the island’s major package holiday resort, Agia Marina. Here, you can take a banana ride or enjoy barbecued octopus in a waterfront taverna. If you prefer to keep your feet dry, head a little farther south for Vagia’s exquisite sandy beach and secluded coves. Or, for a more laidback day, head to Marathon Beach, just a 10-minute drive from town, for umbrellas and sunbeds on an organized beach — though it doesn’t typically get very busy. The island’s pristine Moni Beach is a short boat trip from Perdika, an idyllic village that captured the imagination of Kazantzakis. Arrive at sunset to watch the magical light bathe the harbor and the small church tucked away in its recesses. And don’t leave without sampling a plate of local cheese and pistachios. The latter are a speciality here (try the fresh, unsalted variety with whole pistachios)..

Agios Nektorios Church

Saint Nectarios of Aegina is one of the most famous Greek saints and has been known for working many miracles. He is a great spiritual counselor and confessor to many Greeks and many people from other countries have found healing through his prayers. As a Metropolitan, Nectarios was loved and admired by the people for his purity of life, humility and service to others. His devotion to God and the church compelled him to become more active with his work. Unfortunately, this caused envy among other priests and they made false accusations that led to him being removed from his position. This is when he started searching for a place to live in peace and quiet with no distractions. He ended up on the island of Aegina where he built a beautiful monastery and church. He is celebrated as a saint in the Orthodox Church and his feast day is November 9. Many of the pilgrims that visit Aegina around this time are here to celebrate.

Monastery of Agia Triada

Worlds away from the hedonistic whirl of Athens, Aegina retains its old school charm in its covered fish market and backstreet ouzeri (bars). Stop by Eakion to sample the local speciality – smoked pistachios – ahead of the island’s annual festival in September. For a more upscale snack or drink, head to Posto, where you’ll be treated to generous servings of handmade pasta and Mediterranean cuisine. The restaurant is set in a hidden garden and also hosts art exhibitions from time to time. In general, be respectful of the monks’ customs and etiquette when visiting any monastery. Greeting them and engaging in brief pleasant conversation is fine, but avoid distractions or disturbing them in their religious practices. And do not enter restricted areas like the monks’ quarters. Observing these simple rules will enhance your experience while showing respect to the monks and their church. Aegina Island is a beautiful cruise destination and these top places to eat and drink will make your stay here unforgettable. Read the full article