#the instigator asks and I shall deliver

[annwrites]

sons & daughters. part seven.

— pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you bid jace a very tearful farewell & return home to winterfell, where you do naught but grieve. until you find comfort in the most unexpected company.

— word count: 2,857

— a/n: @ the anon who wanted rickon crumbs, i have delivered!

— tagging list: @beebeechaos @crypticlxrsh @amindfullofmonsters @yeolsbubbles @icefrye19

You choke back a sob as you and Jace clutch at one another, terrified of letting go. Terrified of this being the last time you see each other.

"Please, Jace, we could fly to Winterfell together. Just...just to have a bit more time—"

He shakes his head then, holding your face between his hands, glancing from Cregan back to you. "Your place is at Lord Cregan's side now. I would not have you waiting all alone there while I fly back to Dragonstone and he journeys home."

His chin wobbles and you reach up, brushing a tear from his cheek which you then place a soft kiss upon.

"P-promise me that you'll be safe. That, if you must stop to rest, it is only at the homes of our confirmed allies. You will take no risks. Promise me."

"I swear it."

You pull yourself to him again. "I love you, Jace. I shall miss you so much."

You speak over the lump in your throat. "We've never been apart before."

He cups the back of your head, letting out a small sob. "I know. But we are children no longer. You are a now a wife, and Lady of Winterfell. And I a man grown. We have duties. And we must not shirk them."

You squeeze your eyes shut, numerous tears sliding free. "I love you."

"I love you, sister. So dearly."

"P-promise me you'll write. As soon as you return. Even if it is only simple: I am safe."

"I will."

"Tell mother I love her. And Joffrey. Give...give Aegon and Viserys both kisses from me."

"I won't forget."

You pull back, staring up at him, tucking curls behind his ears. "Treasure Baela. You will need each other now. And Rhaena—do not let her think she is alone. Assure her that she has both of you to lean on."

He nods, swallowing.

Cregan steps forward then, pulling your brother into a tight embrace, tears even stinging his own eyes, though he does not cry. "Goodbye, brother."

"Goodbye, Cregan. You will look after her," he does not ask, but states it, though he knows it does not need even to be spoken.

Cregan nods, wrapping an arm around you. "That is one thing you need not concern yourself with. Once we are home, she will be safe and sound. You have my word."

Jace nods, stepping back, toward Vermax.

His dragon then leans down, gently bumping his snout against your stomach and you let out a small laugh, more hot tears gathering in your eyes.

"Look after him," you whisper and he lets out a deep rumble, as if in promise.

You watch silently as Jace mounts his dragon, and you blow him one final kiss, which he smiles at, and you and Cregan watch as the two of them soar into the sky, only turning away once they have disappeared above the clouds.

Cregan spends half the return journey in the carriage with you, worried about leaving you alone for too long.

His men understand. They give you their condolences in solemn looks and respectful nods, while you do your utmost to hold back your tears—often failing in your endeavors.

Once your rage quieted, however, it instead turned to numbness. You slept much on the way back, and barely ate—only doing so, when finally you did, at Cregan's encouragement.

You tell yourself to be strong, and that, while it may feel it, it is not the end of the world.

But then your mind often begins to spiral. Always starting in the same place: Luke frightened as Vhagar's maw unhinges, charging toward him. You then wonder what the last thought to go through his mind was. Mayhaps wishing for his mother.

You always begin to cry hysterically then.

And then your thoughts only grow darker.

Mayhaps it is the end. Because this will most certainly instigate war.

What will be left once the dragons dance? Anything?

Or, will Westeros become naught more than a smoking wasteland—a pile of ash? If so: what is the point? Of anything?

Of eating, breathing, thinking, feeling.

Living.

You hate the Greens. Every one. Save, mayhaps, Helaena. The one of them who was always most kind, if not a bit distant. Always interested in her insects and such, which you found endearing.

A pity she was born into such a horrid family.

How could you have ever trusted Aemond? Desired him? Loved him?

This is what he is. Has always been. You were just reluctant to see it, because you always wished to believe that you were wanted. Cared for.

He had not been this as a child. Not until Luke took his eye.

Was...was that why, then?

Did he truly believe it to be proper recompense? He had been maimed and in turn, took your brother's life. A monster, that is what he is. You see him clearly now. You are only regretful that you did not sooner.

So you focus on that hate, keeping that fire stoked within your belly, fanning the flames so you may feel something. Anything.

"Open your eyes, my love, we are home."

You slowly blink open heavy lids, to find Cregan leaning over you while standing outside the carriage.

You only nod.

You want to go to bed. Want to sleep. Even if it does not always soothe you.

Even your dreams betray you.

You will not tell Cregan of the vision that had come to you in one but a few days past... Of your uncle rutting away from behind you—your hands and feet bound, making you immobile and wholly at his mercy, or, rather, lack thereof—as you cried and screamed and begged for Cregan to save you.

Aemond had merely laughed and told you he had killed them all: everyone in the world until only the two of you were left.

And then you felt a familiar blade sheathing itself in your back once more.

You had jolted awake then and retched, your skin crawling.

Finally, you nod, taking Cregan's hand as he helps you down.

You do not meet their eyes—those you are meant to now call your people. What a mistake your Lord Husband had made in not marrying a woman with a stronger countenance.

Weak. You are weak.

You hear a familiar voice. "I have already drawn you a hot bath, Princess. It awaits you in your chambers."

You nod. "Thank you, Alia."

She knows it is rather bold of her, but you had made her your friend—your maid-of-honor—so she wraps her arms lightly around you and holds you for a moment as you rest your cheek on her shoulder.

"I am so sorry," she whispers into your ear.

You bite your lower lip to contain yourself. "Thank you."

She pulls back then, glancing down and smiling as another comes to greet you, a small chubby hand coming to tug at your skirts.

And then you smile.

And Cregan breathes, feeling as if he has been holding such a breath for a fortnight, waiting to see the wonderful sight again of you experiencing even a moment of joy.

You lean down, picking up Rickon, and holding him in your arms, pressing a kiss to his dark head of hair as you head inside, crying once more.

But from happiness.

Rickon is whisked away for supper and Alia remains with you as you bathe, per your request.

You tend to yourself, while she simply sits beside the tub, talking with you.

"I still cannot believe it. And you think it revenge for him taking his eye?"

You unfold and refold the washcloth within your hands, watching as steam wafts into the air from the hot water, a warm fire crackling across the room.

"It is all the explanation I have. Before our last night in King's Landing, last I had seen him he was but a boy. But since growing into a man...something dark changed inside of him. I imagine it his mother's doing. While my grandsire lay upon his sickbed, she essentially ran both court and kingdom in conjunction with her father. I am sure she sowed those seeds of discontent further toward our side of the family during our absence from the capitol."

She shakes her head. "For him to murder a prince and so early... I fear what he may yet further do. Him possessing the largest dragon in the world is a dangerous thing indeed."

She glances to you. "You do not think it was somehow...plotted? By the Greens."

"The missive my mother sent—the wording, that is—made it seem almost a coincidence that they were each there at the same time. But, I suppose I do not truly know. Mayhaps it is something that was...discussed. That, if able, the Greens' dragonriders are to slay or capture any member of my family that they can. There will be no one left to contest Aegon's reign then."

You frown slightly. "But even I doubt that. Especially with my mother having stayed her hand, at least up to that point. Why do something which would instigate war if there is even a modicum of a chance of it being avoided? And Alicent never did seem prone to pointless violence in years past. She continued Viserys' peacetime reign, after all."

"But as soon as he was dead, she deigned her son should be king and usurped the rightful heir," Alia replies.

You lean back, looking at her. "I think, mayhaps, I simply never knew any of them at all. It is difficult to believe she and my mother were once childhood companions. Perchance she has been a scheming, treacherous wh—" you hold your tongue, sighing.

"It was but a handful of months after the passing of my grandmother before the king took her to wife. I think the Hightowers have thirsted for further positions of power all along. Unlike us, family means nothing to them. Merely a means to their own personal ends."

You settle your arms on either side of you. "Daemon did once refer to Otto as a leech. Perhaps his daughter has been dutiful in lessons he was willing to teach her indeed."

Alia stands, turning down your bed. "I have prayed since this all began for your mother to win back her throne."

She turns back to you. "But I think we best prepare ourselves for it to be with...much bloodshed."

She nervously rubs at her arm.

"Do you have any family, Alia? Those who would wish to come here? For safety?" You say, resting your arms atop the edge of the tub, your chin atop them.

She shrugs lightly. "I have an uncle in the Westerlands, but he is all that remains. All I have left. We write to each other often."

You stand, stepping out of the water, and she wraps a towel around you.

You hold it in-place as you speak to her. "Write to him again, then, if you wish. Let him know that...that he has a place here with you, if he so desires it. He will be safe and given accommodations and employment. You have my word."

She smiles and it wobbles as her eyes fill with tears. "Thank you," she whispers.

You step forward, hugging her. "Would that I could protect the entirely of the Seven Kingdoms."

When Cregan finally enters your room, it is to find you and Rickon in bed together—your left arm wrapped round him as he dozes off against your breast, you quietly reading him a bedtime story.

You merely glance to him as he shuts the door softly, you then turning the page.

He removes Ice from its scabbard, mounting it once more over the hearth before removing his cloak, hanging it on a hook near the door and toeing off his boots, placing them before the fire to dry.

He comes to stand at the edge of the bed then, arms crossed. "He needs be in his own bed in his own chambers."

You turn another page, placing a kiss atop his head. "I would have him here with me. It pleases me to have him close."

You look up to Cregan, eyes filling with tears. "Please do not part him from me. Not...not now. I...I love him."

His gaze softens, a warm smile crossing his lips as he uncrosses his arms, beginning to undress, a fresh bath waiting for him now as well—thanks to Alia and all her hard work.

"Just for tonight, then," he states quietly.

You hold Rickon closer, his eyes now closed as he dreams. "Mayhaps," you reply simply.

Cregan knows telling you 'no' will become a difficult endeavor indeed as time grows.

When Cregan wakes the next morn, he feels...at-peace as he looks at the two of you. You, turned on your side, Rickon's back flush against your chest and his small hand resting atop Cregan's arm.

He wishes to savor this moment—for it to be eternal—but he knows to dream of such things is folly.

He presses soft kisses to the tops of each of your heads before rising, then dressing silently. He exits the room, leaving the two of you to rest for as long as you both should like.

You needing it most of all.

A fortnight later, you are in better spirits at last. You still have days—moments—where you are distant and grieving, but you are healing.

You go often to the Godswood to not only pray, but for comfort. It becomes habit for it to be one of the first places Cregan looks for you when he seeks you out.

He smiles as he watches you watching Rickon, the small boy performing a poor attempt at making snowballs, which, when he tries to throw them, flop from his hands and back onto the snowy ground.

You giggle at the sight.

And then he says it.

"Mama."

Your eyes go wide.

"Mama."

You cover your mouth, choking back a sob.

The little one toddles closer.

"Mama," he says, grabbing at your skirts and with tears streaming down your cheeks, you pick him up, settling him into your lap with a kiss to his cheek.

"My boy," you whisper, cradling the side of his head in your hand, while your lips press to the other.

And then Cregan settles himself beside you and you still.

You turn your head slowly to look at him. "Are...are you angry with me?"

He brings his lips to yours, kissing you softly, gently. "How could I ever be?"

He nods toward Rickon. "We will tell him about her one day—"

"I already have. A bit. I don't know that he understood any of it, but I...I wanted him to know her name. To know that she loved him." You look at Cregan, tears brimming in your eyes. "I am so grateful to her."

He kisses your forehead. "And she would be to you. For caring for her boy."

He takes Rickon from you, pressing a kiss to his hair before settling him on his feet again. "Our boy."

Cregan then slides his hand along your stomach, settling it there, warm and firm. "You have pleased me greatly."

Your head jerks back toward him, hands grasping his own. "You kept track," you whisper, in disbelief.

He nods. "It seems Rickon shall soon enough have company."

You smile. "I would...name him Luke—Lucerys, that is. Unless you—"

"I would have it no other way," he states, crushing his lips to your own.

He pulls back then, removing a scroll from an inner pocket of his cloak. "There is word from Dragonstone—from Jace. He is well."

You gently take the parchment from him, unrolling it and reading over the words supplied with a smile:

I have arrived safely and we are both in one piece—Vermax and I. He is feasting as I write.

We will, quite soon, hold a service for Luke, to lay him properly to rest.

Wish that you were here, but it pleases me to know where you are instead.

Mother wishes for me to tell you that she loves you, and is very proud of and delighted for you, even if she misses you dearly—that she is glad her blessing came to be of use. Joff asks when he shall receive a wolf pup to keep as a pet, and I gave Viserys and Aegon, per your request, kisses each.

Give Lord Cregan all my best.

Your loving twin, Jace.

You nod, holding it close to your heart then, knowing you will store it in the chest of keepsakes at the end of your bed once you are back in your chambers for the evening.

Gods, how you miss them.

But, as you feel Cregan's arm wrap around you, pulling you into the warmth of his side, and you watch Rickon, you do not feel as if you have lost them, due to their distance. Rather, your family has only grown.

And you are much glad for it, given those you have now lost.

[nellycanwrite]

A Vow: a Fic Preview

Preview of Part 3 of “A Request” || Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: A war has been waged in your name. When all hell breaks loose, and when you have just risen from a week long coma, you are Talokan’s hope to turn the tides of battle to defeat the enemies who had hurt your people once and for all.

Or, in which you and Attuma were not happy with the King’s decision for allegiance.

Rating: 16+  ||  Viewer Discretion is Advised.

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

More notes because the author can’t stop talking: Hi hi! Super sorry this took a while; I’m currently in the middle of moving from province to the (big, very very big, it’s literally the capital) city for college! Huzzah! It’s gonna take a week for me to fully settle in so I might be a tad bit slow on responses as well, so super sorry in advance if I can’t get to you in time. Nevertheless, the love I’ve gotten for this fic and my other BP:WF works have been nothing but heartwarming so I took the in-betweens of my move to update! Love you all so much! Muah!

Part 1 ||  Part 2 ||  Part 3 (Fic Preview)

“We have failed her. I had failed her,” he bowed his head in shame, “how dare I call myself her beloved—her sword, her shield—when she had been attacked by those people? How can I show myself to K'uk'ulkan when I have failed so miserably? I promised I'd be with her, but she—! But I just…”

Attuma must still be frustrated that the Wakandan princess isn’t dead, Namora thought.

Their warning to Wakanda was of great scale. K'uk'ulkan's righteous fury had so taken the life of the queen of their home nation. The life of a queen was the retribution delivered for scarring the crowning glory of Talokan's most precious treasure.

Hardly a fair exchange, one would argue, but you were the Radiant Pearl of the Sea. A drop of blood from your skin from the atrocities of a fiendish foe was worth a thousand deaths of their enemy's kin. 

Namora patted Attuma's back twice, her lips pressing into a thin line as she held back her own heartbreak. To see her childhood friends in such a state…it was eating her up from the inside out.

“You are still those things, Attuma. Her sword, her shield, her beloved,” Namora felt her own guilt weigh her down, but she held her chest up high to set an example for Attuma to see, “what happened in the caves was not your fault. K'uk'ulkan knows that. The princess knows—”

“It doesn't matter!” His voice was strong and mighty, the waters around then shaking by the anger and the frustrations from his voice. Attuma was grateful that they were still in the sea—his tears were hidden and drifting away with the currents.

“Attuma…”

“If that is all, Namora, then I'd appreciate it if you leave. I'll be there as soon as I am done.”

Namora sighed. 

Attuma's stubbornness was getting on her nerves.

“Have you so little faith in the princess?” The female warrior could hardly believe that those words had escaped her mouth. But the damage had been done; and it was something that needed to be said.

Attuma snapped his head to Namora in shock, but it slowly morphed into a warning glare.

“What are you instigating?” He asked with gritted teeth. Namora stared at him passively.

“You know her more than anyone. She will not blame you nor would she want you to practically weep whilst we prepare for our next battle. What would she say if she saw you despicably wallowing in self-pity?”

“You watch your mouth.” Attuma stood up, his frame towering over the female general and covering her whole. Despite the waves of rising anger, Namora did not stand down.

“Am I wrong?”

“You dare—”

Namora swiftly raised her spear and pointed it towards Attuma's neck. He glared daggers at his fellow general, but Namora's piercing gaze had left him speechless. Was this the power of K'uk'ulkan's own blood, he wondered, for such eyes would ground him and lower his gaze in their presence?

“You promised to burn them down in her name, correct? She will rouse in due time, but you were given an order. She has faith in you to carry her will; now it is your turn to have faith in her to do her part in recovery.” 

Attuma stayed silent.

Namora kicked his spear up and caught it mid-air. She lowered her own spear and shoved the shaft into his chest, her eyes burning with a new resolve. Attuma could only accept it while gripping the weapon with such strength that would have left dents in the metal if it weren't made of raw vibranium.

Namora hit the butt of her spear on the ground.

“You are wasted here. Instead of weeping for a circumstance that you cannot control, you have the power to fulfill her orders this instant. 'Burn the world,' was it? Well then—a battalion awaits your command to burn it with you, General Attuma.”

Attuma looked down on the weapon in his hands. It gleamed with an imminent danger, the inscriptions of his name carved into the metal. Along with it were delicate paintings of sharks and waves, something that you had so meticulously drawn for him as a joke, a playful way to annoy him, you always said. But he kept it there; you made it, after all. 

He glanced at you, your body incredibly still. His eyes lingered on your face, and like a helpless catch to a fisherman's bait, he slowly bent down to kiss your forehead and inhaled your scent one last time before he went to battle.

“I will follow your will to the ends of the earth. And though you lay still with no signs of waking, know that my heart lays with you, my love. My world…”

Namora stared impressed at Attuma as soon as he straightened himself with a newfound determination. There were no more signs of that pitiful man who stayed by your bedside while waiting for a miracle, no more signs of an estranged soldier who'd rather rot at your feet until you woke. 

In Namora's eyes he saw a steeled warrior. A king candidate who would fight to the death for his world.

And that world was you, his beloved.

“For the princess.” Namora raised her spear towards him, her chin held up higher in pride. Attuma followed suit, his spear drawn and spears clinking with a new promise.

A new vow.

For the first time since you had been bedridden, Attuma showed a sliver of a smile.

“For the princess.”

Taglist: @w0niecult @abbyeliza28 @fckwritersblock @chaoticevilbakugo @cascadingbliss @erisandra-noir @queen-bee-32 @rheannaaaz​ @antisocial-architect​ @lunamoonbby @kellzsthings @sodonuthideout @vilentia @llamayom  @violet-19999  @f-ergj @daddyslittlevillain @omgsuperstarg @liz776 @zeeader @atssukoo  @idontwannabeherenow @halalalalalalalala  @shebeast7121scared @spookymicrowave​ @nyainterlu4ee @blushsage 

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for August 3, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 21:30-31 (KJV): 30 There is no wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the LORD. 31 The horse is prepared against the day of battle: but safety is of the LORD. Proverbs 21:30-31 (AMP): 30 There is no wisdom or understanding or counsel (that can prevail) against the Lord. 31 The horse is prepared for the day of battle, but deliverance and victory are of the Lord.

Thought for the Day

Verse 30 - No matter how brilliant a man's plan against God may be, it will not prevail. Man is mortal; he makes mistakes and faces uncontrollable events. Every plan of man is subject to change, cancellation, or destruction. None of man's wisdom and understanding is any match for the Lord. "For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?" (1 Corinthians 1:19-20). All plans of God are guaranteed success, as Romans 8:31b says: "If God be for us, who can be against us?"

"But if ye have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie not against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from above but is earthly, sensual, devilish. For where envying and strife are, there is confusion and every evil work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy" (James 3:15-17). Man's wisdom is based on selfishness, while God's wisdom is pure and impartial. God calls each of us to die to our own desires and ways and live according to His. How wonderful it would be if we would all trust God and obey His Word!

Verse 31 - The horse symbolizes a country's strength in warfare. It is not wrong to prepare an army for the defense of a nation, because we live in a world of evil men and we must be prepared to protect ourselves. This is true for all emergency situations. We should be prepared in case something happens. Because of man's propensity to error, and because we live in a fallen world, we make mistakes that can create the need to instigate emergency measures. However, we should remember that our real protection comes from God. Ultimately, no matter how formidable a battle looks, and no matter how well prepared we might be, the outcome and victory of that battle rests in our faith in the Lord and His capabilities.

"Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD; and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance…There is no king saved by the multitude of a host: a mighty man is not delivered by much strength. A horse is a vain thing for safety: neither shall he deliver any by his great strength" (Psalm 33:12; Psalm 33:16-17).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for Your protection and blessing upon us in this land. Forgive us for the many ways in which we have failed You and sinned against You. Lord, I am reminded of Psalms 20:7 which says, "Some trust in chariots, and some in horses: but we will remember the name of the LORD our God." Dear Lord, I voice my trust in You, and declare that we shall be delivered as a nation! Bring revival to our land and heal us. Work in my own heart, and give me a more sacrificing spirit that will give up things I want to do and do only Your will. Let revival begin in me. I ask this in the name of the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.

[flam-burr]

Teacher and student - Yautvember day 3

Content: Living like a Yautja is different, Marianne came to understand while studying the language and fighting style, but sometimes unlearning something from your previous life is harder than alien culture.

Warnings: bullying, blood, suicide instigation

A/N: Hello fam! Thank you to everybody who took the time to read these little things! I didn't expect so many likes <3 So, this story is tied to the first one, but placed two years before the events of First hunt: there are known faces plus the last member of Marianne's new alien family! Hope you like these four just as much as I do. As always, check @jacklycan 's page for the prompt list if you want to join!

Marianne dodged to the left, lowering her head just before Eh’Ka could hit her with a punch. She jumped ahead and managed to deliver a hook on the Yautja’s stomach. It didn’t make any difference to the alien, but it earned her a slight satisfaction and a soft growl from Va’stba, outside of the ring.

“Don’t get distracted.”, she heard him say.

Marianne shifted her gaze on the older Yautja for less than a second, yet it was enough.

Eh’Ka landed a backhanded blow on her sternum and the air got knocked out of her lungs.

She landed on the black mat like a sea star, eyes wide as she coughed and tried to inhale. Va’stba shook his head, sighing softly at the edge of her field of view. 

“Shit…”, she whimpered.

Eh’Ka’s gray face bent over her with a light frown.

“You okay, little one?”, he asked.

Marianne nodded and lifted on her elbows, feeling a compact pressure on her sternum.

Eh’Ka stepped back, giving space to his older brother as he approached the lying woman.

“You got distracted.”, said Va’stba.

Marianne scoffed, pushing herself on the mat to a sitting position. She rubbed her chest, trying to get used to the numbing pain as she looked around the kehrite.

A group of males was looking in her direction, the leader of which had come to enjoy remarking the obvious when she was around.

"That's the kind of warrior a pyode amedha can be: a stupid one.", the leader said.

Marianne felt her cheeks turning red as the other Youngbloods chuckled, trying to muffle their voices, but with little results.

A particularly loud male stepped forward, not even bothering to look submissive to his superiors. "Maybe next time you could tell her not to die, Elite. It would save time!"

Va’stba turned towards the Youngblood, whose laughter died slowly as he understood his words weren't welcome. The Elite then went back to his student, eyes wide as she tried her best not to move.

“Hm… Are you going to let it slide?”

Marianne lifted her gaze on her teacher, then to the group of males.

She could have challenged those Youngbloods, a Yautja in her situation would have done so for sure, yet she couldn’t force herself to move towards them. They were the same kind of male she had encountered on XE-437 and, even if she always wanted to punch those men, it never led to any good. So eventually, she shook her head and pushed herself on her feet, ignoring her soreness.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”, she said to Eh’Ka.

The hunter waited for Va’stba’s nod, then moved in position on the mat.

Marianne knew he wouldn't go easy on her but it was okay: it helped her not to hear those idiots.

When Va’stba finally declared the training over, Marianne felt almost like a smashed potato.

She had gotten better, managing to throw Eh’Ka on the ground one time - a little victory she was very proud of -, but most of the time she had been the one to fall.

As they made their way back to their quarters, she took some time off to tend at her wounds. She made sure all her joints were in the right place, then she undressed, took a long towel and went to the common bathhouse of the mothership. The dark room consisted of a long pool, deep enough to cover an adult male to his shoulders when sitting at its lowest and to allow her to do the same at its highest.

During that first year on the mothership, Marianne had grown accustomed to the shared nakedness in Yautja’s culture, so she laid in the pool focusing on her relaxing body, aware of the few newcomers’ gaze sliding briefly on her scars but not annoyed by that anymore.

“Any space of another?”

Marianne opened her eyes, finding a gray Yautja watching her. His upper mandibles were decorated with steel rings and his tendrils hang like vines around his golden eyes. She smiled, nodding to the oldest of her hunters and sitting up in the water.

Dahru entered the pool with slow movements, sitting next to her and laying his back on the metal side with the water barely reaching his pecs. He closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh, then directed all his attention on her.

“How was training?”, he asked.

Marianne shrugged, gently rubbing her shoulders.

“Hard.”, she said. “But I beated Eh’Ka, so it was good.”

Dahru chuckled, mandibles clicking as he patted her shoulder, almost sending her underwater.

When they stopped laughing, silence fell on them, wrapping the almost empty bathhouse in a warm and comfy atmosphere. Marianne could have even fallen asleep, but Dahru brought her back to wakefulness.

“Va’stba told me some Youngbloods talk shit about you.”, he said, cold and straight as a dagger.

He looked at Marianne, who straightened her back, somehow alert under his gaze.

“And that you didn’t answer.”

Marianne squinted, shifting in her place. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“They were insulting you.”, Dahru sighed. “You have to start defending yourself otherwise no one will ever respect you. We can’t protect you forever if you want to be part of the clan.”

Marianne bit the inside of her cheek, keeping herself from bursting out at one of her few friends on that ship.

“What was I supposed to do?”, she asked. “Challenge them and get my butt kicked in front of everybody, thus confirming what they say? I’ve just started to get better at not going immediately down with Eh’Ka, I don’t have the strength to fight a Youngblood.”

Dahru lifted his eyebrows. “You survived a kiande amedha’s nest for two weeks and you had no training back then.”

“It was different.” Marianne pulled her knees to her chest, shivering to the memories. “I had a lightsaber and a shield. I can’t use a weapon to challenge a rival.”

“No, you can’t.”, Dahru allowed. “But you can use what’s around you and what Paya gave you.”

Marianne scoffed, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. The relaxing feeling had vanished, leaving space for a growing wave of frustration she could barely contain.

“Why can’t I fight them when I’m ready?”, she asked, lifting her gaze. “I-”

“‘Cause you’ll never be.”, Dahru interrupted her, leaning forward with a snarl. “You keep thinking like an ooman, trying to resolve your problems by ignoring them or speaking to them, but that is what Elders and Matriarchs do, not Unblooded warriors like you.”

He stopped, giving her a little space as her eyes started to get liquid. She fought with all she had to prevent her emotions from getting the better of her, eventually lifting her gaze and breathing slowly as the few other Yautjas left the room.

“Marianne.”

She drew a heavier breath, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

“You must react.”, Dahru whispered, almost pleading her.

It was funny, in some way. A deadly Yautja Elite pleading her for something. Yet she shook her head again.

Dahru clicked his mandibles in frustration and moved closer to her, his height allowing her to meet her eyes even if she didn’t move an inch.

“This is not Earth.”, he said. “You don’t have to pay respect to a male that dares dishonour you.”

He stared at hare for a brief moment, enough to let the concept sink in her numbed mind, then Dahru stood and left her alone with her thoughts, tears finally rolling on her cheeks.

The next day, she woke up with the worst mood since she had met her hunters.

Her back was cranky because she had slept alone in the pit without the usual support of Va’stba’s arm as a pillow; her arms had gone numb by trying to make up for it. She couldn’t help it: it was too difficult to let go of her consciousness when she knew she was disappointing all of them.

She had looked at her hunters, sleeping one on top of the other like puppies, one foot away from her, and she had barely resisted the impulse to scream.

By the time she got ready for the day, they were all up and walked together to the cafeteria of the ship.

For once she would have appreciated if they served something green in that damn place. She would have even welcomed eggs -anything but the heavy and revolting smell of raw meat that got to her throat.

She took her tray and followed the trio around the wide, wood-like space with little interest to what was happening around her until a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Look, they are finally living her behind.” It was that Youngblood. “If we are lucky enough, she will end her suffering by herself.”

Marianne moved her head just a little to her left. Their table was almost next to her, just two steps away. She spotted her enemy on the outer seat, giggling with his peers without even looking at her.

Va’stba and Eh’Ka were ahead, still walking, but Dahru had stopped as if to talk with another Elite and was watching her. His golden eyes locked with hers, a silent question he would have asked for the last time.

She heard the Youngblood again, louder now that she was isolated. “At least she would finally bring honour to the Elites.”

Marianne sighed and lowered her head on her food: she never liked that shit anyway.

With a step on the side, she closed the distance between her and the Youngblood and swinged her tray at his head.

The action per se wasn’t even remotely powerful enough to hurt the male, but the surprise made up for what her body couldn’t. Taking advantage of that, Marianne reached for the dagger on his belt, closing her left hand on the hilt as she got used to do with her sword, and stabbed him in his thigh.

The male roared, swinging a clawed hand to her. Marianne stepped back, leaving the weapon, and put her guard up. Adrenaline flooded her body, lighting up every cell of her brain as a circle formed around her and her opponent.

He took out the blade, neon green blood spilling, and charged her.

Marianne waited for his attack and when he extended his arm to punch her grabbed his wrist and shifted, using her body to project him forward.

The male crushed on a table, the sound of crunching metal screeching in the wide hall under his weight.

Marianne ignored the pain from the struggle of the move and kicked the Youngblood’s hand, sending his blade back on the ground, and jumped on him.

She used another tray to hit him again and again, slowly letting her anger take control as the metal plate writhed over his face. He cut her legs and waist, shaking until she eventually dropped on the ground.

She pushed herself on her feet, forcing herself to ignore the pain, and stared at her opponent.

The male stood. His face was a mess of green and brown and his left eye was blinded by a cut that bled profusely.

He rubbed at his face, watching the blood on his hands as his shoulders lifted with hi heavy breath. He flared his mandibles and roared, charging again with renewed strength.

Marianne opened her eyes. Her head throbbed like crazy and her body felt as heavy as a boulder.

She felt the weight of a cover, the sound of clicking Yautjas and she finally recognised the clinic smell of the medical bay.

Dahru’s voice greeted her from her right side. “Welcome back.”

She turned cautiously her head and managed to lift on her elbows. The Elite was sitting on a stool, arms crossed and an amused expression on his alien face.

Marianne lifted one side of her mouth, memories coming back to her as she woke up.

“Did I win?”, she croaked.

“No.” Dahru stood with a chuckle to push her back on the mattress, which she didn’t complain. “But you put up a good fight.”

Marianne groaned, feeling a painful sting in her ribs as she sighed. “How is the Youngblood?”

“A little better than you.”

“That bitch.”

Glossary

Kehrite = training room

Pyode amedha = soft meat/female (slur)

Kiande amedha = hard meat/Xenomorph

[homuras-homos]

asurei for 1 & 5, asukyu for 10 & 17, either/both for 20

Here’s the lot of them.

1: “Oh my god, you’re in love with her.”

Touch was the first sensation that returned to Rei after washing ashore. The feel of the sand she was lying on, the feel of the water washing over her, cutting through her addled brain and giving her something to latch on to. To remind her that she had a body again. She remembered to breathe, finding her lungs filled with liquid. Her chest convulsed as she coughed it out, shakily getting to her knees. She leaned forward, digging her hands into the sand as she hacked and sputtered out the last drops and sucked in air for the first time in a week. Her next breath was full of water as a wave crashed over her. The wave drew back into the ocean, threatening to drag her along with it.

Yet she had a reason to leave, to return to the world.

With great effort, she dragged her body forward, up the beach. One hand reaching out as far as it could and then digging deep into the wet sand. The noises of the world, blowing wind and tumbling water, returned to her next. The sounds were incredibly loud, but that only reminded her how utterly empty the world now was. Yet if she wasn’t among the souls, she was somewhere in the world.

Eventually she got herself out of the surf, the sand changing from wet clumps to dry particles under her hands. Only then did she crack her eyes open, being greeted by nothing but red. Blood red. LCL red. Her stomach churned, and she began to retch empty air, collapsing back into the sand. She clutched her stomach, rolling over to lay on her back. The land past the beach was red, the sea was red, even the sky, where she had always turned to escape the colour, had red bleeding into it.

None of it was the red she had returned for. Rei had discovered so many secrets when Lilith had begun instrumentality, when she had embraced the collected souls of humanity. Only few of those secrets had been about Rei. And there were even fewer that she had taken interest in. And there was one that had brought her back from the sea of souls.

Eventually she propped herself up on her elbows, twisting her head from side to side. There was a small lean-to, made out of sheet metal, a hundred metres away from her. Rolling onto her knees again, Rei stood up. Her legs shook with just the simple act, and when she took a step forward she lost her balance, falling face first into the sand. She crossed her arms under her head, lifting it out of the sand and plunging her back into darkness.

The waves called to her.  

She didn’t listen. She gritted her teeth, reminding herself as to why she had returned. To settle the single regret that she had had. Instead she pulled herself back to her knees, and then to her feet. She made it ten steps before she collapsed again. Inside the lean-to, she could see a silhouette sitting in the shade. She got to her feet once again. Getting closer to the makeshift shelter until she collapsed one last time in front of it. She looked at the person who had been watching her, seeing them for the first time.

Shinji Ikari stared back at her, a look of terror on his face.

“Ayanami.” He stated quietly, cowering away from her. “Did you come for me?” His voice sounded hollow and defeated. Rei crawled under the shade of the sheet metal, catching her breath and collecting her thoughts. Eventually she shook her head.

“You are not the one I returned for.” Rei stated bluntly, her voice sounding rough and out of use. Shinji’s shoulders slumped, and she could see the slight shiver in them. Even if he was terrified of her, Rei could tell that he wanted someone to return for him. And she knew that someone would, even if she didn’t understand how she knew that. It was a a mere fact though, as much as one plus one is two or a hydrogen atom had a single electron.

“What?” Shinji asked, his head sinking into his legs. She could feel the disappointment, the pain, in his voice.

“The Second. I came back for her.” Rei closed her eyes, thinking about the other pilot. Asuka had been the first to return. Rei had never even had a chance to contact her, bring forth her soul before she had left to live again. Never had a chance to explain, to help her as she wanted to. Now she could.  

“Why?” His voice was quiet, barely heard above the waves.

“Because, she cared about me. As did I. We never figured that out, and that is something that I regret. There is a purpose for me now, to tell her that I care. To fix that regret. To see if she still does care about me.” She looked away from the ocean, her eyes searching for a different shade of red than that which dominated the world. “I was hoping that she would be near you.”  

“No, we, I… I hurt her. And then we went our separate ways.” Shinji admitted. Rei nodded, half to herself. She did not want to press him for further details. If she was alive that was what mattered. “I don’t think she wants to see anyone.” he grumbled.

“I merely hope to see her again. Regardless of what happens.” She wanted Asuka to know that she cared. Even if it didn’t matter anymore. And if Asuka didn’t want anything to do with her, then she could always return to the ocean. “Though, is it strange that I hope that I will be able to make her smile?” She pondered.

“That’s how I feel about… Oh my god. You’re in love with her.” Rei could hear the surprise in Shinji’s voice at that. Rei frowned, her brow scrunching. Her hands folded under her chin, and she looked back out at the ocean, finding the rolling waves relaxing. At any point of time before today, she would have shrugged, unable to say if what she felt was love. But now she knew what love was. She had seen the feeling in others. It was an apt description for her feelings towards Asuka.

“Yes, I think I am.” She confirmed. Shinji gave a weak nod, and turned his head towards the ruined buildings that rose further inland. Shinji answered Rei’s question before she could ask it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where she went. Just… into the city” He said, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. A determined look crossed Rei’s face and she crawled out of the lean-to before getting to her feet. She looked away from the ocean, forward towards the city. “I’ll stay here for now.” Shinji whispered from the shade. He was still waiting. The hope driving him on.

“Thank you, Ikari.” Rei departed, starting to walk away from the lean-to towards the crumbled towers of Tokyo-3. Her legs were unsteady, but she did not fall as she had before, even though she occasionally stumbled. There was clear purpose driving her now. She now had two things to tell Asuka once she found her.

5: “Please let me help.”

Rei walked through the suburbs of Tokyo-3, looking for the class representative’s house. That was where Shinji had predicted Asuka had gone. So that was where she would go. The streets were deserted at this late hour. The moon provided enough light for her to see the street signs, and she knew she was getting close. Her mind began to plan ahead. What was she going to do once she found Asuka? The question was one that only now popped up in her mind. She meant to at least see her, to see how she was doing after the angel had forced itself into her mind. Then… Rei shook her head. There were too many what-ifs that came afterwards. It was better to deal with them when they arrived, and not waste time thinking about what could be. Instead she glanced up at the moon and continued walking. Half an hour later she was walked up the sidewalk to a decent sized two story house.  

She knocked thrice. There were a few murmurs from behind the door, nothing she could pick out clearly though. So she waited ten seconds. She knew that she had the right address, unless Shinji had mistaken one of the numbers. She knocked again, her desire for an answer to her internal conundrum demanding she stay.

“Go away Shinji!” She heard Asuka yell from inside the house, somewhere on the second floor. So she was in the right location. Rei knocked once more and waited. She debated whether or not to say anything to indicate who it was to them. There was the sound of movement behind the door, and it was opened a second later. Hikari peeked out, the annoyed expression on her face turning to one of surprise at the sight of Rei.

“May I enter?” Rei asked politely. Hikari nodded, stepping aside. Rei walked past her quickly, almost forgetting to take off her shoes in the foyer before advancing. Asuka’s voice had come from near the front of the upper story, so she climbed the stairs, Hikari following a few steps behind her, her eyes focussed on the ripped pillow in Rei’s hands.

“Asuka, it isn’t Shinji it’s-” Hikari called as Rei walked into the open door to her room.

“You bitch.” Asuka swore when she caught sight of Rei, her voice sounded strained, as if she had been yelling for hours. She was sitting in front of the television, the chip-tune music of a videogame tapping out on the screen. She threw down the controller she had been using, springing up and clenching her fists. “You bitch.” She repeated lamely, the only insult she can think of.  

Rei stayed where she was when Asuka had first seen her. A feeling of guilt welling up inside her. It made her freeze, staring dumbly at the other pilot who was standing a few feet away from her. Now she was here, what would she say? What could she say? Asuka did not stay far from her for long, lunging at Rei and drawing back one fist in preparation to punch her. Her other hand grabbed Rei’s collar, making sure that she couldn’t move.

“Asuka!” Hikari protested, her voice cutting through Asuka’s anger and Rei’s indecisiveness. Asuka turned to face her friend, while Rei continued to stare at Asuka, her brow furrowed. “She hasn’t even said anything.” Hikari continued, giving Rei an apologetic smile.  

“Why are you here then?” Asuka snapped, turning back to face Rei. She kept her fist primed for when Rei delivered whatever unsatisfying answer she would come up with. Rei bowed her head slightly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Spit it out already!” Asuka yelled, almost pulling her off her feet as she yanks on the collar of her shirt.

“Please, let me help.” She stated quietly. She knew she should have done something to help her when fighting the angel. She could have tried to talk to her, reassure her in some way. She hadn’t. She had followed orders. As was expected. Now she had no orders. And she wanted to amend her mistakes.

“What?” Asuka’s voice faltered, if only for a moment. And then her face hardened and she released Rei’s collar, turning around. “Go. If you want to help then get out of my sight.” She spat, her voice a low growl. Rei nodded without question. It was a response she had expected. She turned, bowing slightly to Hikari before walking back down the stairs. Her shoes were at the door, and she slipped them on. It was late, and her apartment was a long walk away. She didn’t see the tears welling up in Asuka’s eyes, nor hear the slight sound that may have been her asking for Rei not to listen to her and to stay.

10: “Will you stay with me anyway?”

NERV had attacked the Wunder with a relatively large force, which had surprised Asuka. Three automated Nemesi and two Evas, both copies of Unit 06. Yet even then it had still been a one sided fight, with two Evas and the Wunder’s own cannons. It was soon down to just NERV’s Evas, and they were both crippled and at the mercy of Asuka and Mari. A small feeling of uneasiness crept into the back of Asuka’s mind. It had been far too easy. She said as much to Mari, who agreed with her.

Then it became clear why NERV had chosen to attack. Not to take down the Wunder, not even to test WILLE’s defences. Gendo Ikari had attacked to settle a personal vendetta.

The two pilots of NERV’s Evas had opened communications at that moment, their faces appearing among Asuka’s open video channels. Both of them were Ayanami-types, identical to each other. Blue hair and red eyes, a face that was all too familiar to Asuka. She felt a shiver run up through her spine, unsettled by the mirrored faces. She glanced at the small picture taped to her Eva’s control console, the smiling face of Kyu looking back at her.

The Ayanamis had a single demand, and adding to Asuka’s uneasiness they spoke in unison. It was a ridiculous demand.  An order from Commander Ikari for the Ayanami-type onboard the Wunder to return to NERV. Misato had actually laughed at that, Asuka hearing the sound through her channel to the bridge. Asuka herself had only gotten pissed at the demand. The only way that Kyu was returning to NERV was over her dead body. She had said as much to the two clones. They had calmly asked her why she cared about something so disposable as an Ayanami-type. And that had only pissed her off even more. Because it wasn’t just an Ayanami-type she cared about. It was Kyu.

Asuka had destroyed one of the Evas after that, Mari shooting the other one a second later. The inside of Asuka’s plug fell silent for a long moment, and then the bridge had asked them to confirm the target’s destruction. She had done so, growling out the words through a clenched teeth, saying that the Evas were no longer a threat. Then Asuka had swapped channels to the Eva pens. Kyu would be there, she was always listening into the comms during sorties. And she knew that she would have heard what the NERV pilots had said.

Except Kyu hadn’t answered. It had been Maya instead, her voice sounding somewhat strained and urgent. Maya told her to get back onboard, and Asuka felt her heart leap into her throat. She knew that something had happened. Recovery couldn’t have happened slower for Asuka, who drummed her fingers on her knee as her Eva was picked up and returned to its pen.

Kyu wasn’t there when Asuka exited her entry plug, which only made her more worried. She looked around, spotting Maya across the pen and making a beeline towards her. The maintenance crews for the two Evas parted around her, knowing better than to get in the way of the pilot who seemed to radiate anger. They were still celebrating the successful sortie though, patting each other on the back. Asuka did her best to ignore them. Maya didn’t notice until Asuka was right behind her, and when she turned around the worried expression on her face only deepened.

“What happened.” Asuka barked at her, slamming her palms onto the console that Maya was working at. 

“Kyu was listening in when she heard them demand that she return to NERV. And when they had said they were nothing but disposable clones, she just ran away.” Maya reported. The phone on her station buzzed behind her and she picked it up. Asuka watched her nod and make small sounds to confirm whatever she was hearing. She eventually put the phone down and looked back up at Asuka. “It was Sakura. She says Kyu ran to your room.” she relayed to Asuka.

Asuka didn’t bother going through the showers after that; she ran off out of the Eva pen making a beeline towards her room. They were close to the pens, a convenience to the pilots who needed to be ready at any moment. Again, people parted before her, knowing better than to get in her way when she was running. She was at the door to her room five minutes later, Sakura pacing in front of it. The medic looked at Asuka and nodded, stepping out of the way and shutting the door behind her.

The room was dark when Asuka entered it, though she could hear the sounds of laboured breathing. “Kyu.” She called quietly into the darkness. The breathing stopped for a second, and then resumed, louder and more rushed than before. Asuka felt a twinge of doubt creep into her mind. She had always been bad with people, and even her relationship with Kyu was plagued by her own fear of messing up. She flicked on the lights, surveying the room and looking for Kyu. She wasn’t lying on the bed, though all the sheets had been pulled off of it.

Asuka walked further into the room and around the bed, cautiously approaching the lump on the floor that was covered with sheets. “Hey, Kyu.” She whispered to the lump. She squatted down beside it, grabbing the edge of one of the sheets and pulling it up to see the girl underneath it. “What’s wrong?” She asked, trying to sound as open as she could.

Kyu blinked from the sudden exposure to the light, and upon seeing Asuka shrunk further into the blankets. It was her own private world, where only she could exist. Where she tried to forget about the existence of others. There were no other Ayanami-types, no other people. Until Asuka had intruded at least. 

“Asuka.” Kyu whispered, her voice sounding heavy, almost wet. In the light Asuka could see the tear stains running down her eyes. “Why am I here?” She asked, looking at Asuka, desperate for an answer. “Why me?”

“You wanted to live.” Asuka stated simply, sitting down in front of Kyu. The clone turned her gaze to the floor underneath them, lowering her head so Asuka couldn’t see her face. Fresh tears were starting to fall, and Asuka reached out to wipe them. Kyu recoiled back, away from her touch. She did shed the blankets off of herself though, which Asuka took as an improvement.

“But I’m no different than those two that were in those Evas. What makes me different? I could have switched places with either of them, it could have been me in there and one of them here.” She whispered. The various doubts that she lived with, that hung at the back of her mind, sprang forward. She wasn’t unique. She could be replaced. There were dozens, maybe hundreds, of other hers out there. What was so different about her that Asuka loved?

“Kyu, you are different. Even before we met you wanted to live. You were different then. And now you’re even more different than those clones from today. They aren’t Kyu. They never could be. But you are.” Asuka told her gently.

“You don’t need to lie. I know I’m just a replaceable clone.” She whispered, not believing it. Kyu looked up at Asuka, with eyes that were filled with desperation. “Will you stay with me anyway?” She asked.

Asuka didn’t hesitate to answer that. She wrapped her arms around Kyu, making her straighten out. Asuka pressed their bodies together, tucking Kyu’s head into her shoulder. Kyu was crying again, her shoulders heaving as Asuka rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair with one hand and grasping one of Kyu’s hands with the other. Their fingers intertwined at their side, and Asuka gave it a light squeeze to affirm her presence.

7“Of course. And you’re special, irreplaceable, to me if no one else.” She whispered into Kyu’s ear. The sobs seemed to grow weaker, and Asuka continued. “There are no other yous. If there was another Ayanami-type then I’d know it wasn’t you. The way you smile, the way you talk, the way your hand feels when it holds mine. I know you’re Kyu.” She reaffirmed. Kyu’s free hand wrapped itself around Asuka’s shoulder, pressing her closer than before. Asuka shut her eye, holding Kyu while she finished crying.

17: “Come here. Let me fix it.”

It had been five days since they had started heading towards where Asuka hoped the Wunder would be. They had stopped for the night, taking shelter in the husk of a solitary house rising up in the sea of red sand. Asuka had been staring out a hole in the wall, where there should have been a window, ignoring her two companions as she had all the previous nights.

Shinji had been silent the whole journey, in fact aside from walking he had refused to do anything. Kyu made Rei look like a motor mouth by comparison. The last conversation, the only conversation, that Asuka had had with Kyu had been two days ago, where her and Kyu had discussed what she should be called, until Asuka had come up with Kyu, her being the former pilot of Eva 09.

It was better than nothing.

Kyu had said her new name once and then fallen silent again.

The silence was starting to get to Asuka, and she was tempted to start talking to herself, if only to fill it with some noise. It wasn’t like she had anyone to talk to anyway. Shinji would refuse to respond if she asked anything, and she didn’t even know where to begin with talking to Kyu.

At the very least, Kyu had the SDAT player to escape to. When they were walking she would usually be wearing the headphones and carrying it in one of her hands. Even when she put the headphones around her neck Asuka could hear music piping through them and into the empty air. She would slow her pace, just slightly, so that Kyu could catch up to her. The music had been a welcome relief for Asuka, even if she considered most of it to be rather boring. It was noise that distracted her from the thoughts that they would die in the desert long before WILLE found them.

She wondered if Kyu used it the same way. To distract her from whatever problems she was facing. 

She had faintly heard the music playing behind her as she sat looking out the hole in the wall. Her eyes wandered to where Kyu was slowly approaching Shinji, one hand holding the headphones and the other holding the main body. Kyu intended to give it back to Shinji, knowing that it would remind him of Kaworu Nagisa and hoping that it would perhaps make him feel happier.

He had slapped the music player out of her hand, sending it flying into the wall. It bounced off and landed in the sand. Asuka diverted her full attention to the scene playing out in front of her, her teeth clenching in anger. Shinji  turned away from Kyu, refusing to acknowledge her at all. Kyu had hovered around Shinji for another few seconds, staring at her now empty hands. She then muttered a hasty apology and then walked over to the fallen SDAT, picking it up and plugging the headphones back in.

Asuka could tell that it was broken by the expression on Kyu’s face a few seconds later. She had shaken it, fiddled with the buttons, tried to get it to work again. Then, resigning to the fact that it was broken, Kyu had silently begun to walk towards her own corner of the house, getting as far away from Shinji as she could. Asuka closed her eyes, trying hard not to yell at Shinji. It would just be a waste of her time and energy. So she silently watched Kyu walk further away, her shoulders shrugged tightly, as if she was trying to prepare herself for a blow. .

Asuka realized it would be be a quiet walk tomorrow.

Unless she did something. She had kept her handheld video game player functioning for the past fourteen years, learning how to tinker and fiddle with electronics in her downtime. She guessed that the SDAT would work the same way.

“Come here. Let me fix it.” Asuka called, walking over to a fallen slab of concrete that was tall enough to serve as a table. She realized how foreign her own voice sounded, after neglecting it for two days. Kyu turned around, the sadness on her face palpable. Even though she told herself that she had offered to fix it so that she would have something to listen to tomorrow, she also hated seeing the look of disappointment on Kyu’s face. Kyu’s body had perked up at the offer and she had made her way over to Asuka, gripping the broken music player.

Wordlessly, Kyu let Asuka take the SDAT out of her hand, and then set it on a slab of concrete sticking out of the sand. Asuka popped the battery case open, discarding the dented battery onto the ground. That would need to be replaced. The battery compartment was also bent out of shape, but Asuka managed to flatten it out well enough.

Asuka was hopeful that a busted battery was all that was wrong with it. She glanced at the battery on the ground. It was smaller than average, flat and circular. Definitely not standard for an SDAT. Someone, she glanced at Shinji, had rebuilt the whole thing. And she doubted Shinji had the knowhow to do it. Yet it was beneficial for Asuka. She knew where to find a replacement for the battery. She had looked at Kyu again, focusing on the top of her head.

“You need those?” She asked Kyu, pointing at the neural clips that ran through her hair. Kyu’s hands rose to take them out, and she looked down at them.

“No. I do not.” She admitted, turning them over in her hand. She would no longer pilot, and she did not wish to remind herself of that life.

“Smash one then. It’s pretty cathartic actually.” Asuka suggested. Kyu looked at the neural clips one last time, and then threw one of them at the wall with all the force she could muster. There was a loud crack as the shell shattered, bits and pieces flying everywhere. Kyu surveyed the damage from where she had thrown it before walking towards where most of it had fallen. She scooped up the main body of the neural clip and carrying it back to Asuka. It was set on the slab of concrete beside the SDAT, then she herself sat down on the ground. Her back against the slab with her knees curled up to her chest.

Asuka was almost tempted to take off her eyepatch so she could have some light as she worked under the starlight. The battery was small, and deep inside the neural clip. It was slow work picking through it. She sighed, looking down at Kyu. Kyu seemed to sense her gaze and looked up to meet her eyes. There was a glimmer of hopeful anticipation in them. Asuka told herself that she wouldn’t disappoint her.

Asuka finally found the battery among the mess and slipped it into the SDAT. She closed the case and whacked the music player with her palm, just in case that helped. Then she handed it back to Kyu. “Try it.” She suggested. Kyu did so, the familiar sounds of an orchestra filling the air a moment later. Asuka could see Kyu’s eyes grow wide with wonder, and then her mouth crept upward into a smile.

“Thank you Shikinami.” She told Asuka, slumping back against the slab of concrete. Asuka sighed. It had been fourteen years since someone had said thank you to her. Asuka looked at Shinji, who sat alone in his corner. Not a single hint of regret on his face for what he had done. He only stared at the other two with emotionless eyes. Again Asuka wanted to yell at him, and again she realized how pointless it would be. Instead she carefully sat down beside Kyu, letting the sounds of the music and the gentle heat radiating off of Kyu lull her to sleep.

20. “Have you slept?”

Asuka knew the answer she would get before she had even asked the question. “Have you slept?” She asked Kyu. They were laying on their bed in their room aboard the Wunder, the lights still on. Asuka was on her side, looking at Kyu. Kyu was on her back, her hands folded over her stomach and looking at the ceiling. Asuka could see the red eyes slowly shift towards her as Kyu acknowledged her presence.

“No. I could not sleep without dreaming that you had died.” Kyu explained quietly. She rolled onto her side, facing away from Asuka. “Two days, two days of searching for you, not knowing if you had survived.” She lamented, a mix of worry and anger in her voice. Asuka had been forced to eject from her Eva after a battle with NERV. The Wunder had been forced to retreat as well, if only for a few hours to conduct repairs safely. Asuka had been gone when they returned to the battle-site. Kyu shook as she remembered those past two days, spent wondering if Asuka was still alive. All the doubt that had plagued her.

“Hey, I’m back. So get some sleep, okay.” Asuka pressed her face into the back of Kyu’s neck, placing an arm over her in a loose embrace. Kyu’s shaking seemed to settle down at that, and eventually Asuka could feel the normal rise and fall of her chest, telling her that Kyu was asleep. Asuka smiled, running her fingers through Kyu’s hair for a few minutes before withdrawing it. Very carefully she pulled away from Kyu, swinging her legs over the side of their bed.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her hands as she clenched them repeatedly. She bitterly thought about how she couldn’t even take her own advice and get some sleep. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flicker of movement, and her head tilted upwards searching for it. Nothing was there. Nothing ever was. Kyu said that she could occasionally see her, but Asuka didn’t have that privilege.

“Have you slept?” The words seemed to form in her mind, emanating from nowhere in particular. The lights in the room flickered off, even though Asuka was nowhere near the lightswitch. A gentle push to let her sleep easier. “Asuka.” Rei’s voice sounded annoyed, waiting for a response from her. Like Asuka had with Kyu, she knew the answer.  

“No. I can’t sleep.” Asuka whispered to the empty air. Rei would hear it, as she heard everything on the Wunder. One of the many advantages of being the soul inside the engine of the living vessel. Another was diverting extra hot water to Asuka’s shower. “Too scared. After fourteen years you’d have thought that the nightmares would have ended. Turns out that more just show up” She looked down at her lap, clasping her hands. She was weary of the nightmares. “Do you sleep anymore?”

“No.” Rei replied, a hint of sadness on her voice. “Though I think that I wish to again, some day.” Asuka felt something cold touch her shoulder. She reached out, hoping to feel something when she reached back. There was nothing there. “You do require sleep though. And both you and Kyu could just use some rest.” Rei reaffirmed. “I will watch over you.” She promised.

Asuka nodded, knowing that it was better than to argue with Rei. She had become much more persistent in the intervening years, especially in regards to Asuka’s health. Perhaps to make up for what she thought of as past mistakes. Asuka climbed back under the covers, feeling Kyu shift beside her, onto her other shoulder so that she now faced Asuka. Kyu reached out for her in her sleep, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling herself closer to Asuka. Asuka ensured she closed the distance and shut her good eye, letting her weariness overwhelm her. She desperately hoped for a good sleep.

[robertreich]

When I was at law school with Clarence Thomas

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Just one year after Ruth Bader Ginsburg died, Republican nominees on the Supreme Court are on the way to overturning Roe v. Wade. But they’re going out of their way to speak out publicly against the partisanship they’re actively engaged in.

Last week, Clarence Thomas told a crowd of more than 800 students and faculty at Notre Dame that the Court shouldn’t be viewed in partisan terms, and that justices don’t base their rulings on “personal preferences.” But if not personal preferences, where exactly do they discover the law? Thomas never said. When asked whether the attorneys presenting oral arguments ever compel him to change his mind, Thomas said, “almost never.”

The previous week, the court’s newest member, Justice Amy Coney Barrett, told a crowd in Kentucky that Supreme Court justices are not a “bunch of partisan hacks.”

Methinks they doth protest too much.

If there’s any doubt about the partisan hackery of the Supreme Court’s six Republican appointees, it will be on full display in the Court’s next session when they overturn Roe in the case they’ve already teed up to do the dirty deed: Dobbs vs. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, about Mississippi’s law that bans almost all abortions after the 15th week. It’s scheduled to be argued December 1.

Flashback: I was in law school in 1973 when the Supreme Court decided Roe, protecting a pregnant person’s right to privacy under the 14th amendment to the Constitution. Also in my class at the time was Clarence Thomas, along with Hillary Rodham (later Hillary Clinton) and Bill Clinton.

The professors used what you probably know as the “Socratic method” – asking hard questions about the cases they were discussing and waiting for students to raise their hands in response, and then criticizing the responses. It was a hair-raising but effective way to learn the law.

One of the principles guiding those discussions is called stare decisis — Latin for “to stand by things decided.” It’s the doctrine of judicial precedent. If a court has already ruled on an issue (say, on reproductive rights), future courts should decide similar cases the same way. 

Supreme Courts can change their minds and rule differently than they did before, but they need good reasons to do so, and it helps if their opinion is unanimous or nearly so. Otherwise, their rulings appear (and are) arbitrary — even, shall we say? — partisan.

In those classroom discussions almost fifty years ago, Hillary’s hand was always first in the air. When she was called upon, she gave perfect answers – whole paragraphs, precisely phrased. She distinguished one case from another, using precedents and stare decisis to guide her thinking. I was awed.

My hand was in the air about half the time, and when called on, my answers were meh.

Clarence’s hand was never in the air. I don’t recall him saying anything, ever.

Bill was never in class.

Only one of us now sits on the Supreme Court. By all accounts, he and four of his colleagues — all appointed by Republican presidents, three by a president who instigated a coup against the United States — are getting ready to violate stare decisis, judicial precedent. 

I don’t expect them to give a clear and convincing argument for why. Do you?

(Please sign up for my new newsletter, here: https://robertreich.substack.com/p/welcome-to-my-newsletter

[catcze]

I adore how much passion you portray, it is incredibly endearing! I am the anon who sent you the last ask about the continuation to your Kazuha idea, I shall be 🍊!

But instead of utterly antagonistic maybe it can be a frenemies to friends to lovers… Because imagine the passive aggressiveness the reader would have to display because she IS a close associate of Lady Ningguang, gotta keep the public image of you know what I mean.

Here is a little treat. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

The rowdiness permeates the crisp morning air as soon as The Crux fleet docks on Liyue Harbor, the sun shyly peeks thru the mountains while giving the wharf an orange hue and it reckons the beginning of a brand new day.

What a romantic sunrise. You muse with a smile on your lips. If only it wasn’t spent on the company of this rowdy men.

The reason for your visit is simple, find Beidou and deliver some documents that contain information about her next assignment and return to Lady Ningguang. An easy and simple order which only needed to go from point A to point B, hopefully no distractions will occur so you can return to the mountain of paperwork pooling around your desk.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with your hand you stand in the middle of the commotion while trying to find the brunette draped in fiery red with golden accents, shouts are heard all around and you squint your eyes in hopes of finding her faster, when a gentle tap on your shoulder startles you causing you to turn to the source.

Ah the fugitive from Inazuma is here again. What a pain.

“Hello miss, are you looking for something? If so allow me to be of assistance.” The fugitive says with a knowing smile and a tilt of his head. His eyes tracing your face and noting your widened eyes. “I apologize if I startled you, it wasn’t my intention.”

Standing before you is Kaedehara Kazuha the Inazuma man whom Beidou rescued on one of her voyages. A regal air always and a soft breeze always seems to follow this man, and one thing you noticed from the beginning was the red strand of red contrasting his cream hair and that anemo vision of course.

The nerve he has. “Your face screams the contrary, but I have no need of your assistance. I am here merely to rely some documents.” You huff out a response while tucking the documents closer to your chest and raising your chin to the air. “Besides I doubt that I will ever need your help, not from someone who enjoys disturbing others that is.”

He just goes quiet at your response, and dons a neutral face. In the few times you have had the displeasure of meeting him he always had a small smile perpetually tattooed on his face, to see his face like this makes your heart beat a little faster, something which you won’t admit of course.

So you just hold his gaze with an eyebrow raised instigating a gazing contest, but you fail to notice how some sailors carrying heavy cargo on their shoulders pass dangerously close to you. Next thing you know you feel a gentle hand pressing onto your lower back and pulling you out of harms way.

That heavy cargo would surely have caused you at least a heavy bruise, but you are more preoccupied by how he pulled you to him. Even on a situation like this he leaves some space between you two, like the respectful person he is, but still you are centimeters apart from each other. Your heart is beating fast, your face is hot and you can only pray to Rex Lapis that you are not blushing.

Most of all you try to get out of your head how pleasant it feels when he touches you and how his proximity feels you with calmness. But these symptoms are normal, completely normal, it is only natural that your heart is beating so fast after a near encounter with an injury. And it is not because you enjoy looking at his face more than you should.

KJSNAKJS OMG <3333

this was so good i' m shaki ng asajkndkjsn AKJNSDKJAN <#333

Thanks so much for this 🍊 anon!!! I had such a good read with it omggg 😭😭🙏💞

[jakesuit0]

The Other Tarts Review

Royal tarts and a back rubbing ceremony are apparently super important in Ooo culture. With how many bits of lore this show brings back, and these customs never returning, it's hard to buy its importance. It is cool how PB’s (who FINALLY gets a major role this season) monologue at the beginning makes this episode feel special and important. Bubblegum was lying about her head being cut off, so I’m going to assume she was also exaggerating how important this ceremony is. We get a glimpse into space with floating food everywhere. I guess the food in space seed was planted in this episode before it was expanded upon in “Too Young” and “Sons of Mars”.  

The Royal Tart Toter is usually the one who delivers the tarts, but he’s gotten too old and bonkers to do the task. Apparently, he physically ages. The only other episode I remember confirming that a candy person physically ages is Colonel Candy Corn in “Something Big”. Other candy people have looked the same for hundreds of years. I assumed (and still do with most candy peeps) the candy people age in a similar way to Bonnie? We also get some lore for Cinnamon Bun who’s revealed to be “half-baked” to explain why he’s even dumber than the average candy citizen. It’s a pretty nice pun!

Bubblegum asks Finn and Jake to deliver the royal tarts instead. Finn accepts while rubbing PB’s hand all over his face. In about a year, PB is going to stop finding that cute and start shutting that shit down, Finn! Bubblegum pulls out her holo-pendant. It’s a really cool and iconic device that returns in a couple episodes, though nearly not enough! An unsecured paralyzing potion is just out on a table! It’s funny how PB acts so nonchalant and silly about something so dangerous and grim. 

Instead of following PB’s plan of taking the safe and secured route, Finn comes up with an alternative plan. He sends Cinnamon Bun out with decoy royal tarts to throw off thieves. That part of the plan makes sense. Well, minus choosing an idiot like Cinnamon Bun to carry the decoys. He also puts paralyzing potion in the decoy tarts. Finn’s plan is to purposefully paralyze poor people trying to steal food from the elite. Pretty fucked up. There’s not even any benefit of adding the poison! I’d also be worried about Cinnamon Bun eating them. In addition, there’s a chance that Cinnamon Bun gets to the ceremony first with the poisoned tarts. Finn is way too convinced that thieves will definitely be plotting to steal in PB’s path, since it’s where they should expect him to be. CB getting to the ceremony first wouldn’t be a problem if Finn just told CB and Bubblegum his plan. There’s no good reason not to let them know! This plan is really dumb. Just follow PB’s orders, she knows best! This isn’t a criticism of the writing, as I think it makes for interesting insight into Finn’s character. 

Finn and Jake take the path he thinks no thief would expect, the Desert of Doom. The Desert of Doom is a really cool location that makes for a fun quest. They spot a group of homeless people, including a robot that resembles a Moe creation. Or maybe a janky knockoff! Finn immediately assumes they are scheming to steal from him and are a threat. Finn’s pretty classist. It makes sense for Finn to have that kind of bigotry with him serving royalty. Little does he know his own brother was quite the thief. Finn instigates a fight with the hobos which is so fucked up. They end up stealing the tarts. They wouldn’t have even known if Finn hadn’t attacked them and then accused them of trying to steal the tarts. 

Princess Bubblegum calls Finn on the holo-pendant. This causes Finn to shriek out a beta version of the iconic Finn scream. After Jake says Cinnamon Bun probably has it worse, the episode cuts to an absolutely hilarious scene. Cinnamon Bun strolls done the safe path. It’s full of super polite and kind candy folks. One by one, they offer to hold the tarts. All of them saying “shall I hold that for you, sir?” while CB whistles makes for a really catchy and cute song. Finally Cinnamon Bun gets a bigger role in an episode!

Finn gaslights himself with ridiculous logic. He thinks losing some of the tarts was a good thing because it’s a reminder to stay sharp and play it extra safe. But, then he continues to make the same mistake and goes into a scary, dangerous cavern. He again thinks no thief will expect them to go in due to the danger. Finn accidentally admits to being insane in a great self-own. “No sane person would ever bring a tart down there. Soooo...”. Finn’s stupidity is really funny. Finn and Jake walk in pitch black and ask if they are sniffing and licking each other. What a great, suspenseful, and creepy scene! 

The thieves in the cavern steal all but two of Finn’s remaining tarts. Finn finally admits his plan was terrible. He even acknowledges his hubris! You do know what that word means, season seven Finn! After Jake comforts Finn by reminding him they still have two tarts left, a tiny butterfly easily flies away with the tart container. Another hilarious moment, even if Finn or Jake each could have easily stopped her. 

Finn thinks Princess Bubblegum is now going to be beheaded. Jake reminds him they can just, ya know, bust in and save her. The back rubbing ceremony is held in the same building as the meeting in “The Duke” was held. This time it has a name, The Royal Congressional Hall. The word “congressional” implies that delegates from kingdoms of Ooo are sent there to craft international legislation. I have no idea who the (mostly) blue people are or why PB is the only statesman there. 

Finn and Jake make it to the ceremony only to find that they are about to eat Cinnamon Bun’s poisoned tarts. Finn of course choses PB as the one he swats the tart away from. She eats another one and is fine. Finn accidentally poisoned the wrong tarts. It’s a pretty good twist made funnier with the cut to the paralyzed butterfly. That also means those homeless guys are now paralyzed. Beyond fucked up. 

Finn at least apologizes to Bubblegum and admits how wrong he was. Finn’s actions were frustrating in this episode, but it would’ve been really frustrating writing if he didn’t have to own up to it at some point. Finn also had a good reason to be worried since he thought his friend could get executed. Finn wasn’t the only liar! As mentioned, PB also lied about the beheading. More insight of how manipulative she can be, and how that compares with Finn, are established. The Old Tart Toter shows up to cap off the episode strongly. He gives a bizarre, trippy speech. I don’t understand the meaning of it at all. In addition, I love how Lumpy Space Princess is randomly seen floating in the void.

This is a great episode with a fun adventure, smart twists, and good comedy. It has a good message of keeping things simple and not overthinking.

Grade: A-

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

It was becoming quite clear that Hanamaki’s scheme to scare Matsukawa was ill planned. The male maintained his poise, watching with humour how his friend was cowering from the noise emanating from the window. With defeat on the horizon, it was time to shift gears and proceed with Plan B. The only problem was that no plan b was discussed. Instinctively your eyes darted across the grass around you, seeking anything that could possibly inspire a second plan. Unfortunately, there was only so much that could be completed with grass, sticks and rocks.

“Y/n? What are you doing?”

“… Holy fuck. Hamtaro are you dead?”

Suna scrunched his features in disgust at the familiar nickname. He understood that he could resemble a fox at points – but a damn hamster? Rolling his eyes, he tucked his thumbs into his jacket pockets casually then straightened his shoulders. The change in composure somehow expanded the reign of his shadow, which was now sheltering you from the glow of the setting sun. 

After high school, the middle blocker had become quite busy, only making the occasional appearance at a few events per year. The last time you two had met was on New Years, and yet somehow four months later, he seemed to have grown in size.

“This is a funeral home, smartass. Not a graveyard. I’ll ask again, what are you doing?” Casting a glance into the window he squinted at the two figures. It took him a few seconds to register who they were, and their connection to you.

“How about I ask you that. What are you doing here?” Raising from your crouched position on the ground, you waved a finger around his face questioningly. Were you buying time to contemplate a valid explanation? Yes.

“Is this not a funeral home? I’m here to arrange a funeral.” With his attention returning to you, his brows lined in suspicion. Your first mistake was thinking you could mask your antics from him. How many of your schemes did he participate in? Almost every single one of them. He knew you.

“Oh.” Instantly your hand returned to your side with a strained expression tugging at the ends of your mouth. “My condolences?” An awkward pat was then applied to his shoulder, as you mentally scolded yourself for being insensitive. The only issue was that you were surprised that he did not inform your fiancé about this. Despite having incompatible schedules, Osamu and Suna remained in contact, frequently texting one another. How did your fiancé not know about the passing of Suna’s ….? Wait who died again?

“My grandma died.” As if reading your thoughts based on your facial reaction, he interrupted your inner debate. Yet whether the frown playing at his lips was instigated by a sense of sorrow or simply his resting face was unclear.

“Holy fuck, Rin. I’m sorry,” Sirens of panic blared inside of your head, prompting you to flail aimlessly. Should you hug him? Should you call ‘Samu? Should you –

“Why are you smiling…? You little shit. You’re fucking with me!” The panic morphed into rage within seconds. Reacting based on the swift mood change you reached for his neck, curling your fingers in the air to indicate your intentions.

“No shit. I was at the restaurant down the street when I saw your stupid ass clawing at the window like a cat. Terrorizing humans wasn’t enough, huh? You had to go bother the dead.” A gentle chuckle was exhaled as his eyes landed on your hands; disinterest evident in his visage.

“Please. I only terrorize people worth my time. That’s why you and I haven’t spoken for months.” Additional emphasis was applied to each word for flair as you leaned closer to him. Your eyes expanded in size, glimmering with a sharpness that could be conceived as a threat.

“Oh, is that why? I thought it was because I blocked your number.” Suna tilted his head, emanating the same vicious vibe to match yours.

“I must say…You’ve become a notable adversary, Hamtaro. But you’re still no match for me.”

“I don’t intend to match you. I intend to beat you.” Oh, he was smooth. 

“Oi. Casper and friend. You’re disturbing the ghosts with your loud-ass mouths.” Matsukawa raised an eyebrow at the pair in amusement. He did not expect to have one guest today, and somehow now there were three uninvited guests? Beside him Hanamaki kicked at the dirt with the outsole of his sneakers, seemingly dejected.

“Damn she’s still alive. Guess we can quit the funeral planning, huh.” Ah, so that was the source of his misery.

“Oh no, Issei. Let’s continue planning a funeral, I’ll deliver you a body in five minutes.” Once securing gazes with the pink haired male, you opened your mouth to bite at the air, prompting the male to motion you forward. While fighting females was certainly forbidden, he thought fighting a demon was fair game –

“Wow. You really didn’t change.” Suna observed out-loud, reminding you of his existence. A mistake really.

“Make that two bodies.”

Let’s do it again, shall we - Hamtaro 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: SUNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. 

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[thesowerposts]

Gospel

THE GOSPEL ACCLAMATION: Isaiah 61:1 / Luke 4:18

THE GOSPEL from the holy Gospel according to Matthew chapter 11 verse 2-11

St. Matthew speaks of a message from John the Baptist asking Jesus whether He truly in the Messiah. John has been arrested and imprisoned by Herod the Tetrarch, the son of King Herod who had massacered the children of Bethlehem. Herod had married Herodias, the divorced wife of his brother Philip. John had spoken out against this and Herod, at the instigation of Herodias, had imprisoned John in the dungeon of his fortress on the eastern shore of the Dead Dea. During the long days of his confinement, John reflected upon his ministry and through his disciples kept track of the ministry of his cousin, Jesus. What he heard disturbed John. He remembered that day at the Jordan when he saw Jesus coming for baptism. He remembered the inspiration by which he cried out, 'Behold the Lamb of God'. He remembered seeing the Spirit come to rest on his cousin and yet things weren't working out as John expected. Where was the fire and flail, the axe being laid to the root of the tree? Where was the wrath? Finally John sent his disciples to ask Jesus.

The events of this reading take place near the middle of our Lord's ministry. St. Matthew uses it to highlight what has gone before and prepare for the profession of faith that St. Peter will make at Caesarea Philippi. It also finds its place in the Gospel to speak of the relationship between John and Jesus and their ministries.

VERSE BY VERSE:

11:2 PARAPHRASE--- Now when John the Baptist, who was in prison, heard about the ministry of Jesus, he sent Him a message through one of his disciples.

John was very much the image of Old Testament prophet. He lived in the wilderness, fasted and prayed and boldly spoke the words he felt were given him by God. John had been imprisoned by Herod in the royal residence. Though confined John was allowed visitors and his disciples were his messengers. Through them, John heard of the ministry of Jesus and sent a message to Him.

11:3 PARAPHRASE--- John asked whether Jesus was the Messiah or not.

It is a pointed question asked by John. Jesus was presenting a completely different ministry than John expected. He was not a nationalistic Messiah and He was not a 'wrath of God' Messiah. There seemed to be no judgment in His ministry and John had to know whether he had been mistaken. Imprisoned as he was, John may have become demoralized even as Elijah had become. John's message had been of imminent blessing and judgment. Jesus' ministry seemed so hidden that John began to have questions. I use the term 'questions' rather than doubts. Questions means that John was a man very much open to the Spirit of God. He did not think that he knew everything and in his humility he was not afraid to ask questions, to review his own ministry and seek further the guidance of God.

11:4 PARAPHRASE--- Jesus answered for the disciple to tell John what Jesus said and did.

Taken at face value, Our Lord's answer might seem evasive but as we shall see in the next verse, He was not only answering the question but giving proof of the validity of His mission. Jesus was fulfilling the word of God given through Isaiah.

11:5 PARAPHRASE--- The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the dead rise. The poor have good news shared with them.

Of the Messiah many things were expected. He would be born in Bethlehem of David's family. He would fulfil the prophecies made of Him. He would be the Savior and Deliver of God's people. He would inaugurate the Kingdom of God. The greatest prophet of this Kingdom was Isaiah and Jesus echoes Isaiah in His answer. This He does not only here but in the synagogue at Nazareth. Here He merely points out how His ministry fulfils Isaiah's expectations. There He pointedly tells His listeners that the prophecies are being fulfilled in Him.

The more subtle message of Jesus' use of Isaiah is to underscore that all of the promises will be fulfilled and in each reference to Isaiah, their is also the promise of judgment. To John Jesus is saying that though the judgment may be delayed it will come as surely as you see the promises of blessings kept.

His mission was not just a 'feel good' mission but included all that John had foretold. The day of wrath might be delayed but all of Isaiah would be fulfilled.

The earlier months of Jesus' ministry had been filled with Messianic signs. All of the Evangelists record healings, exorcism and miraculous meals. It is to these that Jesus refers. The disciples of John are to go and talk with Jesus' followers, hear their stories and then return to John and put his mind at rest.

11:6 PARAPHRASE--- Blessed is he who takes no offense at Me.

We have no reference in Scripture as to how John received the message. These last words of Jesus to John are to be words of comfort. John's ministry was valid and his message true. Jesus was fulfilling the message of John, though not perhaps in ways expected. Even if John is still uncertain, let him wait and see. Let John not be scandalized by Jesus. Let John weigh the ministry of Jesus by its results. Let this be the very minimum of John's response.

11:7 PARAPHRASE--- When the disciple had left, Jesus spoke of John to the crowds. 'Why', he said, 'did you go to the wilderness'. 'To see a reed shaken by the wind'.

John's disciples return to their master and Jesus begins to speak to the crowds about John. He knew how so many of those who followed Him had first come to seek out John. The Scriptures tell us that many came to the place where John was baptizing, making the journey by foot from Jerusalem down to the Jordan.

He begins with two rhetorical questions. Why did they make the journey? Did they do it to see the reeds along the bank moving in the wind? Did they go out to see someone as fickle as a reed in the wind, someone swayed by every gust of opinion, reacting like a politician to a poll rather than some who stood firm in his convictions?

11:8 PARAPHRASE--- 'Did you go out to see a man clothed in soft garments.' 'But those who wear such garments are in the houses of kings'

Did they go to see someone in soft garments, like those who lived in the house of a king? Did they go to see a pretender to the Jewish throne perhaps or an aristocrat? Did they go out to see someone who lived like the very people who had imprisoned John?

11:9 PARAPHRASE--- 'Why did you go out'. 'To see a prophet?' 'Yes', said Jesus, 'and more than a prophet.

Answering His own question Jesus speaks of John as a prophet and one who was more than a prophet. For four hundred years the prophetic gift had not been seen among the people of God. When the last of the prophets had died, the scribe and rabbi became the teacher of the people. These did not have the same authority as one possessing the prophetic spirit but expounded the preserved the teaching of the Law and the Prophets. But the expectation of revival had never died. Even in the Book of Maccabees we read of the expectation that a prophet would arise once more.

John seemed to fulfil the prophetic ministry and people came to see him. But here Jesus speaks of John as more than a prophet. John was not one of line of prophets but one who had been prophesied.

11:10 PARAPHRASE--- 'John is the one the prophet wrote about when he spoke of the messenger who would prepare the way before the Lord.'

Malachi the prophet had spoken of one who was still to come, the one who would prepare the way for the coming of the Lord. It is to this prophecy that Jesus refers and applies to John. These are the days of salvation. All that has been foretold has been accomplished. The messenger has come. The way has been prepared. The Lord will now come and enter His Temple and inaugurate the Kingdom of God.

11:11 PARAPHRASE--- 'There is none greater born of woman than John but the least in the kingdom is greater than he.'

This final verse speaks of the wonders of this Kingdom. John was the greatest of all who prepared the way for it was given to him to reveal the Messiah but even the least member of the kingdom is greater. What Jesus had come to accomplish was more than just a continuation of what had gone before. His ministry was to accomplish sometime so new and different that it would transform all who shared in it.

The ministry of Jesus was a line drawn by God across the pages of history. All had been made new in Christ. Even the least in the Kingdom shared in things denied to those who had lived before. Where they had seen imperfectly, the Christian sees clearly. While they had lived and believed in symbol, the Christian grasps the reality.

This verse is not so much about John and certainly does not seek to belittle John's ministry, as it is about what Jesus ministry, for which John prepared the way, would accomplish.

[lisinfleur]

Inevitable

The request:

Author’s Notes | The mourning moment doesn't always have to be terrible. Sometimes, we're just saying goodbye. Sometimes, it's just "see you soon"... Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @silly-bullshit-collector​ for 5CW7 Words | 1538 ⁑ Warnings: HEAVY ANGST. Mentions of death.

Lilies.

She used to like them more than the other flowers. So, he gathered some with his sons' help. His old and thick fingers were still able to braid them into a crown with some other flowers to make it more colored. But this time, it wasn't for her smiles...

The elder king wasn't able to drag himself around anymore. Nor walk with his heavy braces recently abandoned despite his wounded pride. But Ivar knew she wouldn't mind having four of the beautiful and strong sons she gave him carrying his chair towards the beach that day, such as she didn't mind smiling at him when they were younger and he was dragging himself in mud and horse shit around.

She was with him since the beginning. Ivar smiled remembering this...

"From the very beginning to the very end," he muttered, placing the beautiful crown of colored flowers in her head, replacing the metal crown that would remember the gods she was his queen.

The gorgeous metallic jewel he ordered for her when the time of his crowning, he placed in between her hands, taking a moment to caress them one more time.

One last time.

Her skin wasn't that soft or clean as he could remember from the first time he touched her. There were marks of working, marks of time... But no other hand would ever fit his palm as hers. No other woman would ever hold his hands with such tenderness. But his heart wasn't sad about this fact. Instead, there was pride inside of his chest. Ivar was proud to say she was the only one who ever conquered his heart. He was proud to declare he was blessed by the gods with her presence throughout his whole life and he was able to keep the gift the gods gave to him until the very day when they decided to take it back.

While his sons and daughters - all the many she promised him! - were walking around the boat, spreading goods and gifts and her favorite things to go with her, Ivar spent his time settling her dress the way she liked. Tied, not too tight, not too loose as well.

"The perfect tightness to show your beauty and hide what would instigate the desires," he smiled, remembering her words when he first saw her tying her dress after one night by his side.

The first night of her life.

He was the first and the only. And he was proud of it.

His younger daughter delivered in his hand her favorite hair comb. A beautiful jewel he gave her when they were celebrating their first year of a marriage that lasted decades. She still had it, perfectly preserved despite the fact that she would always wear it whenever there was something important for them to attend.

Ivar smiled at the small piece, slowly placing it in her hair, straightening the strands now stained in white.

She was growing old faster than him, Ivar knew that, but she was a strong woman, mother of twelve, eight of them alive, two of them defeated, two of them lost. Scars in her heart that she never really forgot such as the others were jewels she never got tired of celebrating. Her children were her pride. And his as well.

Ivar looked around seeing all the eight of them working around. Two daughters, six sons. All strong women and men, well raised. The older of them already reigning by his side and two of them had come just because of her departure, but soon they would be back to their own kingdoms... His daughters? One of them well married just like her mother, mother of four already, carrying the fifth in her belly. The other, like him, a conqueror, resembling his brother Björn and his thirst to explore the oceans and find new lands, new cultures...

His eyes kept running the beach, his grandsons messing with the shells and stones, gathering gifts to bring to her boat by themselves. Some of them closer to the time to receive their armlets and start their lives. Some of them with childish tears in their eyes...

It was a sad day for the kingdom, a sad day for his family. But Ivar smiled.

"You made me a blessed man... A rich man. Look at them, my beloved... Look at all the gifts you made me," he spoke, caressing her face, feeling the coldness stealing the warmth he knew he would miss more than anything in his life.

Yet, he kept smiling.

She never liked to see his tears.

"They're beautiful... A line I never thought I would be able to see. And you gave them to me. You made me a happy man, Y/N. And for this, I'm thankful."

His fingers straightened the earrings in her ears and the necklace in her chest - the morgen-gifu he gave her after the first night of their marriage: a beautiful necklace with stones that reflected the color of her eyes. The most expensive thing he ever bought in his life and the only expensive gift she ever accepted from him...

She wasn't an expensive woman. Instead, she was simple and even when he became a king by her side and made her a queen, the simplicity of her nature didn't change.

Maybe that was why Ivar chose such a simple dress for her to wear, despite the beautiful and sumptuous boat around her: a way to represent how she was a delicate flower of simplicity and kindness, even when surrounded by the richest environments.

"I won't tell you I'm not sad," he mumbled, knowing, somehow, she could hear his heart.

He was never able to lie to her... He wouldn't try now.

"My heart cries and bleeds and I know this wound will never heal, my love. No bandage will be able to heal the pain of your absence, no sunrise will be the same without you by my side on our bed, nor sunset will be the same without you to watch it with me. But I'll keep watching them... And I'll keep waking up in every morning, my heart," he continued.

His fingers caressing her chin the way she liked the most.

His eyes holding back the thin line of tears he didn't want to pour from his eyes.

"I will keep honoring the gods and walking every step of the right path, so, when the time comes and they decide I shall leave this world, my path will end in the place I crave the most: into your arms, my love."

With tenderness, Ivar leaned himself, kissing her forehead before touching his own with hers. The contrast of their skin remembering him of the coldest days of winter when she was always colder than him.

A stubborn tear rolling down his face when he thought to himself that he could just pretend it was a winter night... Another, softly dripping over her immobile cheek, rolling down her face as he closed his eyes, feeling her presence one last time before raising himself.

"My beautiful queen..." his lips mumbled before he took her hand in between his and kissed her knuckles one last time. "I loved you from the very first day... And I'll love you until my very last. Carry my heart with you, my soul. For today, even the stones are weeping, but soon, there will be joy and happiness once again. The days will pass, my beloved, and I'll find you once again."

His elder son's hand touched his shoulder in a supportive touch and Ivar nodded, mutely informing his boy he was ready to leave her.

Tenderly, he placed his beloved Y/N's hand over the crown once again, looking at her, seeing how she seemed to be peacefully sleeping now. The same tranquil sleepiness that took her last night to never give her back.

"Farewell, my love. Farewell, for now," he muttered, and his son helped him to get out of the boat, back to his wooden chair to be carried away to the docks.

The sacrifices were made; the boat, released. And Ivar's eyes followed it as the fire was lit, turning her body into a high flame that soon took distance from the coast and with the night falling around became nothing but a bright star in the middle of the darkened sea.

"Father... We must go," his son warned. "It is too cold for your legs..."

Ivar raised his hand and his son got silent, but there wasn't reprobation in his expression.

Instead, he touched the boy's shoulder, pressing it softly.

"You're right, my son. Take me back home... We shall feast and celebrate in her memory, not mourn over her dead corpse. Your mother is now with the gods where soon I shall be with her. Let's go..."

The men around looked at each other. They all knew their father was growing old and soon, it would be his boat at the waters as well. But somehow, knowing this wasn't agonizing them anymore.

Such as Ivar's heart, they now knew their father's place wasn't in Midgard anymore.

She was waiting for him.

And he was eager to find her again.

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[alexhaydenxii-blog]

The Man Who Changed the Philippines

A short story

On a non-descript grey room, there sat a man wearing the orange jumpsuit of a prisoner and opposite him is a man wearing a navy-blue polo with his eyes looking intensely at the prisoner. In his hand he had a ballpen and the other hand is on his lap clenched in anger. As a journalist Martin must learn to control his emotions, or else this jackpot would go away like a fly chased by a human hand.

The prisoner didn't smile, he simply stared at the journalist waiting for an answer. Alexander is studying this man before him, observing every little body language he sends out involuntarily. He noticed Martin's jaw clenched and sweat forming on his forehead. The room given to them has good ventilation, why the hell would this man sweat profusely? He asked himself that. Finally the cold and silent atmosphere improved when Martin finally said something.

He laid out his phone on the table and pressed record. "I am Martin Andreas, the journalist assigned to interview Mr. Alexander Reyes, convicted drug lord and terrorist."

It was at this moment that Alex broke his silence by laughing. "Whoa, terrorist sounds a bit too much, what about a multi-billion drug lord who earned billions of pesos throughout my entire career." He boasted with a huge grin on his face, like a kid who found out that he is the top of his class.

Martin ignored his comment, but it made his heart pump hot blood throughout his veins. He felt an urge that made him rub both of his hands and take a deep breath before speaking. "As you have known I am interviewing you here today about your deeds that changed the country Mr. Reyes." Alex replied by nodding. "You were a notorious crime lord that caused the crime rate of this country to go up by 72%. Tell me, why did you choose the path of crime in the first place? You were an excellent lawyer, who came form a very prestigious schoo. what made you decide to become an infamous criminal in the first place?" Martin asked, preparing to take down notes.

A response was formed right away and Alex answered. "Short answer would be I wanted to change this country for the good, long answer is that I thought being one of the good guys would help me change the system of this country but I was wrong. Do you know who is Senator John Santos?" The reporter nodded.

"Of course you do, you're the one who reported his death on television. John Santos and I were close friends and we share the same passion to change this country. He became elected as Mayor of Manila and he ran for the Senate and won. That victory was the final nail in his coffin. He stepped on a lot of dirty politicians during his term and made laws that actually helped our country. Obviously the corrupt government officials wanted him out of the picture and they succeeded. He was gunned down on his own home with the rest of his familu and up until now no one knows who ordered the hit. Can you imagine that, his wife and three kids lied there bleeding with him." For a second Martin saw a hint of pity on his eyes, but only for a secomd.

"It was you." Martin suddenly said. The sudden interruption caught Alex off-guard, he simply smiled. "Oh wait, yeah now I remember. People thought I did it, but it's all bullshit. When there are no facts present, people turn to rumors and stupid theories which they use as an answer to the unknown." To Martin this is clearly bullshit, but then why would he need to lie since he is already convicted to rot here in this jail. Martin said nothing and let him explain.

"God this interview makes me feel old. If I remember I was a lawyer back then. A lawyer who is pissed off at the system. Can you imagine how many of the fuckers that I nearly convicted but was released due to their deep pockets? Fucking bastards. John's death was a blow to me, and also served as my epiphany. I decided that, in order for me to make real change, I must adapt and beat the assholes in their own game." Martin was surprised to see tears forming on the convict's eyes, tears that he fought hard to hide.

Still his arrogant tone is the same, but Martin could see the sadness in his eyes as he was speaking. "So you believed that by poisoning millions of Filipinos with the drugs you brought to this country, and also instigating a massacre in Binondo that killed defenseless Filipinos children and adult alike, it would change the Philippines?" Martin said, raising his voice. "Yes, I do. I worked so hard to be the drug kingpin of this country. I did what was necessary. Charles Darwin once said that the strong should survive and the weak shall perish. That's what happened. Those weak enough to try the harmful substances I brought died, those strong enough fought back against me and forced the government to do their jobs properly." The sadness he once had is now gone. He was like an artist, boasting his magnum opus to the world.

"5 million Filipinos died because of you Mr. Reyes, 5 million." Martin said, his face now turning red. "So? Should I care that 5 million useless Filipinos died? Filipinos that are what you call in Tagalog "palamunin"? Should I care about--"

"Because of that stupid shoot-out with the Chinese Triads in Binondo my sister died!" Martin shouted, standing up and striking the metal table with his hands. Alex didnt even flinch, he just stared at Martin. "The two guards outside despise me because I did something nasty to their families before, if you decided to vent out your anger on me with your fists you are welcome to do so." Alex mocked.

Martin grabbed him by his collar and raised his fist, clenching tightly. Should he do it? His face deserves to be reduced to a bloody pulp. He deserves so much pain, and all that power lies in his hands. Martin can't, it seems like an invisible chain tightened on his hand that prevented him from punching. He tried, tried so hard but he can't. Martin simply screamed, screamed like a bloodthirsty barbarian. His scream echoed loudly on the room. He punched the metal table instead before sitting down and taking a deep breath.

"Huh, your principles got the better of you. I admire that Martin, I am very impressed. Anyway, back to the main topic. If it weren't for me, those drug lords, crooks and politicians I dumped on Manila Bay would still be alive, stagnating this country. If it weren't for the gang war in Binondo that escalated into masaacre, the President wouldn't have the balls to push the Chinese out of our country. I'm sorry Martin about your loss, but look around you, I greatly reduced crime and corruption due to stricter laws that punish criminals and the sudden boom of rehabilitation centers in this country." Alexander's voice now started to get intense as he explained.

"Because of the great panic I created that disrupted this country, you wouldn't have the strength to fight back against the system. I served as the rallying cry for you to rise up and fight! Look what happened? Senators, Mayors and governors are being imprisoned left and right. They are replaced by Filipinos who have the country's interest first before their own. Yes, I did kill 5 million people, I had to do it in order for the next 5 million Filipinos about to come out of their mother's womb yo have a better life Martin. Now, tell me if I am still a terrorist." Alex said, his gaze now intensifying as all his words were delivered proudly, no inch of remorse present at all.

Martin had a thousand words he wanted to say to him, questions and insults but at this moment he was speechless, as if he accidentally swallowed his own tongue. The alarm rung out and the guards outside announced that the interview is up. Martin turned off the recorder, picked up his notepad and phone and walked out the room, without saying anything. He was in deep thought, he felt like being his teenage self again suffering with existential crisis. Everything around him seemed unreal. He thought of heroes as someone who is the epitome of all that is good in this world, someone who'll preserve life at all costs. But Martin lives in the real world, the real world where the Rules are different and there is no good and evil. Maybe Alexander did save this country, or maybe he was a mass murderer who condemned millions of lives to their deaths. But one thing is for sure, Philippines is vastly different from what it used to be. Perhaps the end really does justify the means.

[phroyd]

What A Dumb-Fuck Ass, pandering to his Dumb-Fuck Ass Base! On the other hand, with this precedent, in 2020, our Democratic President can call a National Emergency for Climate Change setting the goal for Net Zero Carbon Emissions,  as laid out in the Green New Deal!  Now there’s a silver lining in this Trump Cloud! - Phroyd

WASHINGTON — President Trump plans to declare a national emergency so he can bypass Congress and build his long-promised wall along the border even as he signs a spending bill that does not fund it, the White House said Thursday.

The announcement of his decision came just minutes before the Senate voted 83-16 to advance the spending package in anticipation of final passage on Thursday night by the House.

Mr. Trump’s decision to sign it effectively ends a two-month war of attrition between the president and Congress that closed much of the federal government for 35 days and left it facing a second shutdown as early as Friday, but it could instigate a new constitutional clash over who controls the federal purse.

“President Trump will sign the government funding bill, and as he has stated before, he will also take other executive action — including a national emergency — to ensure we stop the national security and humanitarian crisis at the border,” said Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the White House press secretary.

Speaker Nancy Pelosi of California said Democrats were “reviewing our options” in responding to Mr. Trump’s anticipated declaration and did not rule out a legal challenge.

“The president is doing an end run around Congress,” she said.

She also raised the possibility that Mr. Trump was setting a precedent for Democratic presidents to come, precisely what Republicans fear.

“You want to talk about a national emergency, let’s talk about today,” Ms. Pelosi said, reminding Mr. Trump that it was the first anniversary of the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Fla. “That’s a national emergency. Why don’t you declare that emergency, Mr. President? I wish you would.”

The spending legislation includes the seven remaining bills to keep the remainder of the government open through the end of September. House and Senate negotiators unveiled the 1,159-page bill on Wednesday just before midnight, leaving little time for lawmakers to actually digest its contents.

“The president is once again delivering on his promise to build the wall, protect the border, and secure our great country,” Ms. Sanders said, as she announced that Mr. Trump would sign it.

The border security compromise, tucked into the $49 billion portion of the bill that funds the Department of Homeland Security, is perhaps the most stinging legislative defeat of Mr. Trump’s presidency. It provides $1.375 billion for 55 miles of steel-post fencing, essentially the same that Mr. Trump rejected in December, triggering the shutdown and far from the $5.7 billion he demanded for more than 200 miles of steel or concrete wall.

In opting to declare a national emergency, Mr. Trump would seek to access funds for the wall that Congress had not explicitly authorized for the purpose, a provocative move that would test the bounds of presidential authority in a time of divided government. Legal experts have said Mr. Trump has a plausible case that he can take such action under current law, but it would almost surely prompt a court challenge from critics arguing that he is usurping two centuries of congressional control over spending.

And some Republicans were clearly nervous about his course of action.

“I don’t think this is a matter that should be declared a national emergency,” said Senator Lisa Murkowski, Republican of Alaska. “We as legislators are trying to address the president’s priority. What we’re voting on now is perhaps an imperfect solution, but it’s one we could get consensus on.”

Senator Rand Paul, Republican of Kentucky, said, “We have a government that has a Constitution that has a division of power, and revenue raising and spending power was given to Congress.”

Mr. Trump disregarded objections raised by Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, the majority leader, and other Republicans who balked at what they deemed presidential overreach. Conservative lawmakers and commentators said that such a move would set a precedent for a liberal president to claim the same power to take action on issues like climate change or gun control without congressional consent.

But Mr. Trump ultimately could not see any other way out of his standoff with congressional Democrats over the border wall without shutting down the government again. The first government shutdown prompted by the wall fight deprived 800,000 employees of their paychecks, sapped the president’s standing in the polls and ended only when Mr. Trump gave up last month without getting a penny of the $5.7 billion he had demanded.

Democrats immediately prepared to advance legislation that would curtail the president’s abilities to use certain funds after a national emergency declaration.

A group of Democratic senators — including Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, Kamala Harris of California and Kirsten Gillibrand of New York, all aspiring presidential nominees — collaborated on a measure to prevent Mr. Trump from using funds appropriated for disaster relief to pay for border wall construction.

The Senate is expected to vote on a border bill to prevent a government shutdown.

Mr. Trump made the wall his signature promise on the 2016 presidential campaign trail, where he was cheered by supporters chanting, “Build the wall,” only to be frustrated that he was unable to do so during his first two years in office, when Republicans controlled both houses of Congress.

[Sign up for Crossing the Border, a limited-run newsletter about life where the United States and Mexico meet.]

In waging a shutdown battle over the barrier, he has made it the nearly singular focus of his presidency in his third year in office. But Democrats, who took control of the House in January, have made blocking it just as high of a priority, leaving the two sides at a stalemate.

Negotiations since late December ultimately went nowhere. Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who led Democrats to power in the House, went beyond simply criticizing the wall as unwise or ineffective by declaring it “immoral,” drawing a hard line even though many Democrats have voted for fencing along parts of the border in the past.

At one point during the shutdown, Mr. Trump asked Ms. Pelosi if she would be willing to support the wall in 30 days if he agreed to reopen the government. When she said no, he got up and walked out of the room with a sharp “bye-bye,” then posted a message on Twitter declaring talks a “waste of time.”

Mr. Trump’s national emergency declaration could provoke a constitutional clash between the president and Congress. Under Article I of the Constitution, Congress has the power to appropriate funds. “No money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in consequence of appropriations made by law,” it says.

But Congress has passed laws in the past providing presidents with authority in national emergencies, laws that remain on the books. Scholars pointed to two that could be used by the Trump administration to justify a presidential expenditure for his border wall without explicit legislative approval.

One permits the secretary of the Army to direct troops and other resources to help construct projects “that are essential to the national defense.” The other law authorizes the secretary of defense in an emergency to begin military construction projects “not otherwise authorized by law” but needed to support the armed forces.

Democrats or other critics of the president will almost surely file legal challenges to his move, which could ultimately lead to a confrontation at the Supreme Court. The court is led by a five-member conservative majority, but it has shown skepticism of presidential excesses in recent years, reining in both President George W. Bush and President Barack Obama when the justices concluded they had overstepped their authority.

As lawmakers took up the spending bill on Thursday, Democratic leaders, like their Republican counterparts, urged their rank-and-file to get on board.

“It is incumbent on Congress to come together to responsibly fund our government,” Representative Nita M. Lowey of New York, chairwoman of the House Appropriations Committee, said in a statement released shortly after midnight. “This legislation represents a bipartisan compromise and will keep our government open while funding key priorities.”

Even with Congress’s left and right flanks grumbling, a solid majority of lawmakers has signaled support for the package, with Republicans and Democrats unwilling to court another shutdown less than 48 hours before funding for nine cabinets and multiple federal agencies is set to expire.

The Homeland Security section of the measure allows for 55 miles of new steel-post fencing, but prohibits construction in certain areas along the Rio Grande Valley. More than $560 million is allocated for drug inspection at ports of entry, as well as money for 600 more Customs and Border Protection officers and 75 immigration officers.

It includes a provision, pushed by Representative Henry Cuellar, Democrat of Texas and the only negotiator from a border district, granting communities and towns on the border a period of time to weigh in on the location and design of the fencing. The White House finds that provision objectionable.

The bill also prohibits funds from being used to keep lawmakers from visiting and inspecting Homeland Security detention centers, following a number of highly publicized instances where Democratic lawmakers tried to visit detention centers and were turned away.

Lawmakers were also pulled in by the other six parts of the spending package, which finance a number of agencies, including the Internal Revenue Service, which is in the middle of tax-filing season, and the Commerce Department. Allocations include $77 million for addressing the opioid epidemic and funds to address natural disasters, including nearly $4 billion to wild-land fire programs and $12.6 billion for the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s disaster relief fund.

The package also negates an executive order that Mr. Trump signed to freeze pay for federal civilian workers, and instead extends a 1.9 percent pay increase. Vice President Mike Pence, cabinet officials and other high-level political appointees will also receive raises, about $10,000 a year, which were frozen during the shutdown.

Negotiators failed to resolve other matters, including back pay for federal contractors caught in the middle of the shutdown and an extension of the Violence Against Women Act, which expires Friday — although grants under the act are funded in one of the spending bills.

All but one of the 17 House and Senate negotiators signed off on the final package. Representative Tom Graves, Republican of Georgia, refused to sign, saying he was given no time to digest the seven spending bills. But he did not rule out voting for the bill on the floor.

“Maybe the policy is good, maybe it’s not,” Mr. Graves wrote on Twitter. “I’ll work through this ahead of the final vote later today.”

Phroyd

[eldridgecandell]

Ashes & Embers

@priscilla-adams @eldridgecandell

I - Forced Hands

The summons could not have come at a worse time, Priss thought to herself as she took the envelope from the courier with a slight frown. Well, it could have come two days when she'd been shot which would have made for an even greater inconvenience but that was neither here nor there.  Closing the door in the boy's face after tipping him, she frowned and made her way to get ready for the journey to Arom's Stand after leaving Emma notice of where she had gone so that she wouldn't worry. 

 It would be several hours later that the gryphon safely delivered her to the stand leaving her cheeks a bit windburned from the flight and a slight shiver to her form as she was still recovering from her injury incurred in the line of duty.  Lifting her fur collar to ward off the cold, she shoved her gloved hands into the thick muff and marched into the head quarters of the Order only to be greeted by Lord Inquisitor Albot. 

 "Ah, Inquisitor Adams, you have arrived promptly. Currently between cases?" She scowled at him," On the contrary, I am currently in the midst of one and I would like to get back to it as soon as possible if you don't mind. So shall we dispense with the small talk and get to the point?" 

 He chuckled with an air of dry amusement," As soon as my other guest arrives." Guest. She loathed how he always used that term when she always felt like a prisoner when summoned here.

~*~

Earlier in the day... 

The heavy wet slap of a burlap sack snapped Jory out of his book with a jolt of surprise.  Pulling his half moon glasses from his crooked nose, the crotchety old man blinked slowly to look up at the tall figure before him. 

“How many this time, Eld?”  Jory muttered as he closed his book and stood up with a wince.  Rubbing at his lower back he would open an end of the sack and grimace at the sight and smells of the contents. 

“Three this time,” Eldridge Candell murmured as he pulled down his scarf revealing his reddened cheeks and sweaty beard.  His other hand reached up to pull back his hood with a weary sigh to reveal his thinning top and the heavy salt that coated his black hair.  “Skulking about a farm down south of here.  Bastards were tricky, but you can only hide under so much bridge.”

Jory chuckled grimly before sliding the sack to the side for the alchemists to get a hold of piece apart.  “Albot is looking for you.” 

“Oh.”  It was less of a question and more of regret at the mention of the commander.  It wasn’t that Albot was a bad authority in the growing Order but he was a part of the new school of Stormwind military.  Heroes and glory and reward.  Not like when he was deep in.  Not like when he was a younger man. 

“Yes, sir.  He asked if I spotted you to send you to his office around threeish,” Jory creaked over to his ledger and began to fill out the appropriate paperwork for the return and add up the bounty for the hunter.  “All in the same account?” 

“Yes that’s fine,” Eld reached up to swipe the sweat flakes from his hair and beard as he looked about.  “Don’t suppose you have the time do you, Jory?” 

“One o’clock,” the geezer nodded as he marked accordingly in his books before closing it with a soft thump. “Someday you’ll had to teach me the trick,  Jor.” Eld called over his shoulder as he headed for the barracks for a bit of three ‘s’s. 

“Naw, sonny.  That’s a gift to my grave.”

~*~

A soft knock to Lord Albot’s office would arrive around a quarter after three, a bit later than Inquisitor Adams arrival.

“Ah that must be him,” the lord murmured over a cup of tea as the heavy oak door slid open to reveal the witch hunter. 

“Commander Albot,” Eld spoke formally, his black leather riding boots clicking over the stone floor as he entered and shut the door behind him.  It was quite amazing what a wash and clean clothes could do to man.  Now decked out in clean black trousers, coat, and trim.  He practically looked like a gentleman more than a slayer of dark ones.  His hair still wet was slicks back revealing a growing forehead and his beard was combed and trimmed to a more forgiving length.  “My apologies for the delay.  I had just arrived from the wilds when I was informed of this meeting.  I deemed it best to be a bit less foul and a lot more human.” 

“Indeed sir, come in then,” Albot motioned for the hunter to approach the commander and his guest who seemed in far worse shape then the hunter.  “Inquisitor Eldridge Candell, allow me to introduce Inquisitor Prissella Adams.” 

Eld would approach and offer a courteous bow and accept the good hand of the woman with all the trimmings of a gentleman.  He was grateful again for his mother’s lessons as a boy, no matter how harsh or hard they had been.  As he released the woman’s good hand, steering clear of staring at her healing wounds he would regard the commander again.  “What can I do for you Lord Albot?” 

The lord would sip at his tea before crossing a leg over the other before setting the saucer to his knee and looking to the pair.  “Inquisitors I will cut to the chase as we are forever running short of time.  It has become painfully obvious that we are fighting a war that truly will have no end from the Covens power and the Drust lords that connive with.  We are short of provisions, favors, and sadly troops.”

“With that in mind we have decided to instigate a new method of safety for our members,” Albot would lift his tea again and finish off the remnants of his drink before continuing,”A guardian program to help protect our less than combat oriented members.” 

“It is a trial program that I have placed my full faith in and know will be a boon and safe measure to ensure our numbers grow and losses lessen,” Albot continued as he looked to the pair who both were hardly stupid as to what was coming but neither wanting to be pulled into it. 

 “With that said, Candell, meet your new partner.” 

[csmeaner]

(magii) you ask and i shall deliver. theres more of this (13 pages of it) but im not gonna sift through it all just to give screenshots because i have a life and better things to do with my time (as you can see as well the person instigating the comments is 14)

https://imgur(.)com/a/i2uEBiA

additionally, since i am leaving the server soon, i can talk about how designers seem to copy their designs and resell them even after the original has been purchased, and how the mods literally dont care about the copying happening. see the imgur link for my personal conversation with a mod about a design i purchased being similar to another that went up for sale not even 4 days after.

https://imgur(.)com/a/K0RjoL3

and finally, unless i find out more i want to send over, lots of dekudog favoritism regarding genshin impact "inspired" designs. lots of them have been approved, but other dekudog designs have not, because the mods claim theyre too similar to the original ips.

https://imgur(.)com/a/TcB27TV

if you want anything else i can gladly provide, i still have a bit of time before i leave that server forever and void my cs from them

post related to why minors in a communal space yelling about nsfw topics is a fucking terrible idea

https://imgur.com/a/i2uEBiA screenshots of the minor yelling about inappropriate stuff

https://imgur.com/a/K0RjoL3 screenshots of mod making designs similar to one they already sold before

https://imgur.com/a/TcB27TV screenshots of favoritism with allowing dekudogs through

yeah this species sounds like shit all around. guess you can do a magiispecies ama at least

[truck-fump]

When I was at law school with Clarence ThomasSign up at...

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When I was at law school with Clarence ThomasSign up at...

When I was at law school with Clarence Thomas

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Just one year after Ruth Bader Ginsburg died, Republican nominees on the Supreme Court are on the way to overturning Roe v. Wade. But they’re going out of their way to speak out publicly against the partisanship they’re actively engaged in.

Last week, Clarence Thomas told a crowd of more than 800 students and faculty at Notre Dame that the Court shouldn’t be viewed in partisan terms, and that justices don’t base their rulings on “personal preferences.” But if not personal preferences, where exactly do they discover the law? Thomas never said. When asked whether the attorneys presenting oral arguments ever compel him to change his mind, Thomas said, “almost never.”

The previous week, the court’s newest member, Justice Amy Coney Barrett, told a crowd in Kentucky that Supreme Court justices are not a “bunch of partisan hacks.”

Methinks they doth protest too much.

If there’s any doubt about the partisan hackery of the Supreme Court’s six Republican appointees, it will be on full display in the Court’s next session when they overturn Roe in the case they’ve already teed up to do the dirty deed: Dobbs vs. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, about Mississippi’s law that bans almost all abortions after the 15th week. It’s scheduled to be argued December 1.

Flashback: I was in law school in 1973 when the Supreme Court decided Roe, protecting a pregnant person’s right to privacy under the 14th amendment to the Constitution. Also in my class at the time was Clarence Thomas, along with Hillary Rodham (later Hillary Clinton) and Bill Clinton.

The professors used what you probably know as the “Socratic method” – asking hard questions about the cases they were discussing and waiting for students to raise their hands in response, and then criticizing the responses. It was a hair-raising but effective way to learn the law.

One of the principles guiding those discussions is called stare decisis — Latin for “to stand by things decided.” It’s the doctrine of judicial precedent. If a court has already ruled on an issue (say, on reproductive rights), future courts should decide similar cases the same way. 

Supreme Courts can change their minds and rule differently than they did before, but they need good reasons to do so, and it helps if their opinion is unanimous or nearly so. Otherwise, their rulings appear (and are) arbitrary — even, shall we say? — partisan.

In those classroom discussions almost fifty years ago, Hillary’s hand was always first in the air. When she was called upon, she gave perfect answers – whole paragraphs, precisely phrased. She distinguished one case from another, using precedents and stare decisis to guide her thinking. I was awed.

My hand was in the air about half the time, and when called on, my answers were meh.

Clarence’s hand was never in the air. I don’t recall him saying anything, ever.

Bill was never in class.

Only one of us now sits on the Supreme Court. By all accounts, he and four of his colleagues — all appointed by Republican presidents, three by a president who instigated a coup against the United States — are getting ready to violate stare decisis, judicial precedent. 

I don’t expect them to give a clear and convincing argument for why. Do you?