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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

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pearls of wisdom

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #18 - devil’s advocate ]

[ illya & kokomi ] ★ [ 1,291 words ] ★ [ sometime post-sb ]

devil’s advocate- a person who expresses a contentious opinion in order to provoke debate or test the strength of the opposing arguments

it just takes a devil’s advocate clad in the form of an angelic surface dweller to convince kokomi to finally leave the coral palace behind

The waters are particularly warm this afternoon, Kokomi noted as her legs kick back and forth gracefully as a flurry of bubbles formed behind her - though, that may also simply be a result of her own rising heart rate. This isn’t the first time she’s swam freely through the Ruby Sea , surrounded by coral, schools of fish and the occasional passing striped ray that only seemed to be urging her to return from whence she came.

But just as she’s about to entertain the thought of sinking back down into the depths that which has been her home for her entire life, she feels her hand being gently tugged upwards by another hand that was not her own.

“We’re almost there!” even with her ears clogged with saltwater, Kokomi can still hear her voice - light and airy as a a summer sea breeze.

When she looks up, beams of sunrays above their heads pierce through the ripples of water, like curtains that casted an almost blinding spotlight upon the girl with long snowy white hair that glided through the water like a silken veil, her eyes of rich purple tanzanite reflecting the light so radiantly that they resembled Sango pearls.

And with the turquoise hue of the water that lit her fair skin up in a resplendent hue, Kokomi wouldn’t object if somebody had told her that this young woman who was beckoning her up to the surface was a siren - an angel of the oceans...were she not tempting her with the prospect of freedom like a devil would.

“This is a bad idea.” Kokomi mutters, her doubts echoing loudly in her own ears as she paddles herself back, only to be met with the resistance of her hand being tugged once more. “I should go back.”

“To Sui-no-Sato?” The Warrior of Light, her student and the young adventurer who had turned the fate of Othard on it’s head frowns deeply, “Or back to the palace? I could maybe accept if you wanted to return to the first to get something but... If you were thinking of locking yourself up in the violet tides again-”

Illya wasn’t usually this pushy, Kokomi thinks to herself with an uncertain furrow in her brows. She was always polite, demure, unable to say no or talk back even towards people who would truly deserve her reprimand - up until she decided not to be anymore.

The princess of pearls remembers - recalls now so vividly that when it came to the Warrior of Light, who is shockingly unconfrontational for someone who had become known as a war hero and renowned fighter both, she only ever put her foot down when it came to the wellbeing and happiness of those around her.

It’d been the reason why Illya had seemed so visibly frustrated one day when she came for her scheduled training session with her after having returned from a meeting with the prince of doma and someone she claimed to be ‘an extremely dubious garlean envoy’. It’d been the first time Kokomi had seen Illya express such outward anger - and it wasn’t even for herself.

Illya is as the seas - peaceful and tranquil until a coming storm of lightning and bashing waves, patient enough to put up with Kokomi’s relative inexperience when it came to tutoring others, yet a clear veteran of battle to show that she wouldn’t soon let herself falter if and when she needed to fight for the safety of the people she cared for.

And it remains that way even now, and uncertain as Kokomi is with Illya’s proposal, there is come amount of comfort that came with knowing the girl did genuinely care for her beyond their semi-professional relationship and arrangement.

“I....” Kokomi feels her throat going dry - ironic considering their surroundings, but she feels the hand that had been grasping hers tightening in its hold, compelling her to speak with the truth. “I’ve never seen the world above the waves... I do not know what awaits be above the surface. I don’t belong there.”

She cannot tell if those had been her own words or the words that have been fed to her for twenty five whole years, unable to differentiate between her own fears from the doubts of the others.

When Illya had first learned that Kokomi has spent her whole life living under the Ruby Sea, she’d first expressed an admiration and also awe. The ocean floor, after all, wasn’t unpleasant to live on after all - far from it. She could name a good number of people who would give anything to have the view of corals, marine life and the refraction of light upon the ocean blue tides when they wake up.

But she soon learned that to have been born within the sea and to live under the sea for one’s entire life as Kokomi had done, came a curiosity for the world of the land dwellers that resided just above her head - and that any hint of her expressing a wish to leave the sea behind had been knocked down by the disapproval of the raen that Kokomi has known all her lives.

Illya, Alisaie and Lyse, according to Kokomi, had been the first people in her lives to have questioned her decision to remain on the ocean floor... and given that they were from the surface, it was only natural she hadn’t taken their suggestions very seriously - nor did the other residents of Sui-no-Sato for that matter.

Because for as welcoming as the raen of the seas may first appear to be, they were also fiercely protective of the sanctity and preservation of their home - even more so towards the Shisui of the Violet Tides and those who had ties to the royal family.

Kokomi hadn’t intended to let Illya’s words affect her - was convinced that her own fears and doubts about the horrible, unsafe and polluted world of the surface was not worth her time looking into.

Whether it was from Illya’s relentless convincing - twicefold more pushy the moment she’d learned that Kokomi’s mother had in fact been from Ul’dah, or the fact that Kokomi’s curiosity of the world above had been stronger than she’d anticipated... After months of playing the devil’s advocate against the whole of the violet tides, Illya finally managed to convince Kokomi to break the surface and visit the land for the first time.

“But you wouldn’t know that until you’ve seen it with your own eyes, would you?” The warrior of light asks, tone dipping yet still gentle. “It’s normal to be scared... but you’ll never get to see the world if you let that fear consume you.”

She’s speaking from experience, Kokomi can tell... knew when Illya had been telling her to fulfill her dreams by taking that first leap of faith into the unknown, that Illya was no stranger to doing that.

“What if... what if they were right? What if the world’s too dangerous and I get hurt?”

“Then, I’ll protect you. I’ll never leave your side for as long as you need me to.”

Her one and only fledgling glow fish, the treasure of the violet tides... Illya has grown leaps and bounds with her practice of hydromancy and the moment she’d watched in pride as Illya conjured a pulsing aetheric jellyfish made of water that shimmered in a bright holo, she knew she’d chosen the right person to entrust with her knowledge.

And as Illya smiles reassuringly down at her as she glides up to the surface with the princess of pearls in tow, Kokomi knows now she truly doesn’t regret taking Illya in as her student and friend.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #kokomi komi #fanfic #mine

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dredshirtroberts · 3 years

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Tagged by @tumbleweedtech!!

What is your total word count on AO3?

Oh thank god you're asking me to look there where they calculate it for me so i don't have to try and figure it out across all eleventy-million of my fucking WIPs xD.

uhhhhh looks like...274,424 heh. that's lower than i thought but then again I post very little of what i actually write so...

How many fandoms have you written for?

On AO3? if I lump the related ones together (which i do) it's 4. If we're talking across the board in general? uh...f u c k. there's so much i haven't posted or thought about posting yet. just go ahead and like. add ten more on top of the four fandoms on AO3 i think that's about close if we're counting crossovers and inspired-bys

What were your top 5 fics by kudos?

Right Back to the Beginning

Constellations

Please, What?

Spearwort, Iris and Ash: Spearwort Yellow for Joy

Lia & Em's Adventure In Thedas Part I: The Wrath of Heaven

Do you respond to comments - why, why not?

I... want to? I try sometimes, if someone's comment touches me or came at a particularly bad time. It's overwhelming to respond to people - I'm a lurker by nature and never really grew out of the habit of teen-me knowing i wasn't supposed to be looking at the fics i was reading and so i wouldn't interact with them or the authors at all. So it can be hard to like. reconcile that I'm a fully grown adult person who is allowed to not only read and write what i enjoy but also that like. other adult people are reading and enjoying what i write? and that they'd want to tell me? I admit to also falling out of what little habit i'd started due to continued weirdly critical (yet not *negative*) comments that just. rub me the wrong way so I can't figure out how to respond? yeah.

What's your fic with the angsty-est ending?

Again I guess if we're going by what's actually posted, I'd probably have to say the Super Fucking Old fic I added from my FF.net days: A Late Summer Afternoon (hopefully that's the right link - sometimes copy and paste doesn't work the way i want). warnings for MCD. I...imagine you might be able to pick up on why that one's my angstiest ending xD I generally try to like. end my stories on a positive note? even if it's not all better yet - so the second angstiest would be Color of Your Eyes or Have This probably. Likely more Have This over Color of Your Eyes but they're both relatively tame as compared to my earliest writing xD

Do you write crossovers?

Uh...yes but i haven't posted any yet. Most of the reason nothing I write gets posted is because I am incapable of writing small projects and I get nervous about posting chapters before i know where i story is going yet because i feel like i can't edit if it's been posted? Anyway I'm going to try and get over that eventually. Not right now, though. I still have to edit some stuff.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Hate is a strong word. I...assume most people who have commented mean well, regardless of how their comments may come off to me on my end. Several have rubbed me the wrong way due to phrasing and an inability to read tone over text-based communication, but I refuse to believe they would have kept reading if they didn't like most of the story. Certainly it has been generally positive feedback across the board so I don't feel comfortable at all calling any negative comments i've received (intentional or not) "hate"

Have you ever had a story stolen?

As far as I'm aware, no. Thankfully I tend to write shit that people just don't care that much about so I'm pretty safe I think. Watch that come bite me in the ass xD

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah. I hope one day to be proficient in my target language and will be able to translate my own fics myself but see aforementioned note about how no one really cares that much about what i write xD it won't happen unless i do it myself.

What is your all time favourite pairing?

You want me? to pick favorites? in THIS economy?

What is a fic you would like to finish but don't think you ever will?

currently none are looking like "never gonna finish"es which is good. RBttB sat unfinished for a long while and I probably won't polish the ending on that one, but it's technically done. I also don't want to finish that one either so. it wouldn't have fulfilled the requirements of the question.

Writing strengths?

You want me? to compliment myself? in THIS econo- alright alright i know, it's a terrible joke. Uh...I understand i'm pretty good at smut. and descriptions? i think? I feel like my humor is unparalleled but that's also because i'm pretty sure i'm the funniest person in my apartment (we'll just casually not mention i live alone...) Seamless integration of current and historical memes? Puns? i don't know. i am super confident about writing but i couldn't tell you for sure what i'm actually strong at.

Writing weaknesses?

uh. Getting anything finished. endings. d i a l o g u e. writing. flow. pacing. repetition. writing. see what i did there? i told you my humor was awesome. no but really i struggle with actually starting to write and then it ends up being a lot of me repeating myself a bunch until i find the sentence or four that work best. and like. my pacing is weird so it can be hard to...figure out what i'm trying to say? oh and commas. i use commas wrong.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages?

I enjoy the shit out of it. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but I try really hard to get it right. if I'm not 100% positive it's correct I will change the whole sentence. mostly because i only know a handful of people who know languages other than English and I am bad at reaching out for help when I need it. mostly the second part though.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

YuYu Hakusho! A friend and I wrote this epic fucking self-insert not-quite-isekai style fanfic back and forth in notebooks back in the 6th grade (which was about...oh. nearly 20 years ago jesus i'm old). Only one of my notebooks survived when she decided anime was demons and the devil trying to tempt her away from Jesus so a lot of the story was lost. It was also in pencil so it's half worn out of the notebook as it is. then there was the phase i went through where i decided i could make my notebooks more interesting by cutting them into shapes which lost me a bit of text in the margins that i'd forgotten about... look we're mostly lucky i had it at all or that i've kept it all these years. Why do i still have it?...hm.

What's your favourite fic?

Of mine? So far it's probably a toss-up between Spearwort, Iris and Ash and Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas. you know. My two biggest projects Oh...oh possibly also the Current-Reworking-The-Title fic I've started that I've not posted anything of yet in the Arcana fandom. Which is also a huge major project. I don't write small if I can help it, apparently.

of someone else's? You want me? to choose favorites? in THIS- yes i know that's the same joke three times. I think it changes based on what I need most out of my fic reading experience. I have an extensive bookmark collection on AO3. one of them in there's probably holding a spot as favorite, most likely.

Tagging: @concertconfetti, @daughterofdungeonbat, and anyone else who wants to do this! If you want a specific tag to do this, please LMK and i'll tag you <33

#about me #tag game #writing #the captain writes #tagged by

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finnthewitch · 4 years

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A Luciferian Take on Matthew 4:1 - 11

Hello, everyone. I wanted to share this piece I wrote. It’s kind of a personal spin on the verses in Matthew 4, when Jesus was in the desert and interacted with Lucifer. Reading this, I was never under the assumption that Lucifer was evil and trying to “trick” Jesus into “sin.” As I saw it, Lucifer was concerned for his health, hence why he asked Jesus to turn the rock into bread. And, Lucifer was also genuinely curious as to whether or not Jesus really was a demigod. When he took Jesus to the top of a mountain, I don’t believe that Lucifer was asking to be worshipped. He was asking Jesus to reconsider the path he was taking. I threw this together in a matter of two days, so there might be mistakes. But I just thought this would be a fun devotional project to Lucifer, and I wanted to share it with you all, as well.

Forty days. Forty days the young man had gone without a morsel of food. The man, whose name was Jesus, was led into the desert by the Spirit to fast. As he sat upon a rock under the blazing sun to meditate, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He pushed this concern to the back of his head and closed his eyes. Barely a moment later, he felt the hot sun on his back dissipate.

“Hello, human.”

Jesus’ eyes shot open and he gave a start at the sudden voice. Whomever it was had approached silently. The large shadow of a wing was blocking out the rays of the heat, enveloping Jesus in a relieving shade. When he turned to see who the shadow’s owner was, he came face-to-face with an angel. Not just any angel, but a seraph, judging by the six enormous wings sprouting from its back, all different kinds of colors. The creature was dressed in a silky red garb adorned with precious gems that glinted brightly in the light. As beautiful as this seraph was, there was a rugged quality to him. His wings were covered in a fine layer of soot, and many feathers were either missing or jutting out at odd angles. Two piercing eyes stared down at Jesus from a handsome face, riddled with scars, and sporting blond unruly hair. The creature eyed Jesus curiously.

“What are you doing out here?” The angel asked. His voice was silky, and rang like bells. “Are you lost?”

“You’re an angel, aren’t you?” Jesus responded. “Certainly you know why I’m out here.”

“I am an angel, yes,” the seraph replied, “though not many call me that, anymore.”

The angel cast his eyes to the side. Was that... sheepishness, that Jesus had spotted in the strange angel’s gaze?

“Not anymore? What do you mean?” Jesus was confused at first, but then he started to notice things about the angel. The raggedy wings, the ash coating his feathers, the scars, and there was a defiant, almost uppity glint in his eyes.

It made much more sense now. This was no ordinary angel of the Lord at all, Jesus realized. This angel had fallen from grace after defecting so many eons ago. Despite this, there was still a glow emanating from him, seeming to come from within, and judging by his number of wings, he was of a high rank. It was the Morning Star himself, the Light Bringer. Jesus stood up and faced the angel directly, willing himself not to shake. The angel, having seen it click in the man’s head, chuckled.

“You...” Jesus breathed. “You’re the fallen angel Lucifer. Why? Why have you come here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” replied Lucifer. “The Earth is my home. Have I no right to wander it as I please? If I may, what are you doing out in the middle of the desert? And with no food or supplies, at that?”

“If you really must know, Satan, I am Jesus, the son of God. I have come out here to fast for forty days and forty nights to become closer to the Lord.”

The fallen angel just laughed and said, “My dear, aren’t we all sons of God? Though, you said the son of God. Are you sure your hunger isn’t making you delirious? Unless you really are a demigod of sorts, you’ll have to prove it to me.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Devil,” the man asserted.

“Very well, then. But if you ask me, forty days is an awful long time to go without food. Depriving your body of nutrition won’t do anything for you. A sound body makes a sound mind, does it not?” Lucifer paused, leaned down, and picked a rock up off the ground.

“You said your name was Jesus, right?” He asked. The man nodded, and Lucifer continued. “Well, Jesus, if you really are the son of God, why don’t you turn this rock here into bread to eat? I find that hunger only-“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jesus interrupted. “For it is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

“Quoting the Bible now, are we?” Lucifer chuckled. “Two can play that game. I’ll have you know, I’ve been around eons longer than any written word. I’m assuming it’s pointless anymore to try to get you to do anything with these.” Lucifer tossed the rock aside, where it landed in the sand with a soft thud.

“Please, humor me for a bit more,” the angel said. “You’re a very intriguing human. Care to take a walk with me? I have further questions to ask you.”

“I will allow it,” the man permitted.

“Excellent!” Lucifer’s wings twitched, causing a few feathers to lodge free and fall to the ground. “Come along, now.”

The two walked side-by-side through the desert until they reached the city of Jerusalem. Lucifer turned to Jesus and asked, “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No,” the man responded. “Why?”

“Just making sure. That way you wouldn’t freak out if I did something like this.”

Without warning, the fallen angel took Jesus in his arms before kicking off the ground, and flew to the top of the temple, the tallest structure in the city. He made a swift landing before releasing Jesus, who looked around at the surrounding city with an unreadable expression.

“Why have you brought me up here?” asked Jesus.

“Well,” drawled Lucifer, “you didn’t quite answer my question back there. In fact, I’d say you dodged it altogether. So I’ll ask you again, my dear human, are you really the son of God? You’re not just pulling my wing here?”

“I am. I was brought into this world to fulfill all righteousness,” Jesus answered.

“That’s a rather ambitious task,” the Adversary remarked. “I admire your energy. However, still doesn’t prove anything. For my next little trial here, and I am in no way condoning suicide, but if you are truly the beloved son of God, then if you were to leap off this ledge here, wouldn’t your angel friends catch you? For it is written: He will command his angels concerning you, and with their holy hands they will break your fall, lest you dash your pretty little foot against a stone.”

Lucifer finished his quotation with a smug grin and looked down at Jesus expectantly. Jesus peered his head over the ledge and swallowed. It was an awfully long way down.

“Well, go on,” the devil urged. “You have nothing to fear if you are speaking the truth about your divinity. Oh, now don’t look like that! It’s probably only a couple hundred feet at the most. If you think that’s bad, try falling the length between Heaven and Earth. It takes you days to fall to the ground from up there!”

Jesus hesitated for a moment more, before simply saying, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test. Are we done here?”

“Not quite,” Lucifer answered. “There’s something more that I would like to tell you. I won’t force you to listen. I am a pioneer of free thought, after all. Do you care for another journey?”

“Fine,” the man muttered. “But this is the last time. Your rambling is beginning to get on my nerves.”

��Very well, then. Off we go!” Again, Lucifer hoisted Jesus up and took off. This flight was considerably longer, which allowed Jesus the time to admire the landscape and take in just how big the Earth was. Lucifer took them to the highest peak of a mountain, and when he let Jesus down, he used his wings to shield them both from the harsh cold wind of the higher altitude. Jesus looked up at Lucifer, and found that his demeanor had changed. All the humor and pompousness had gone from the angel’s face, replaced by a pensive brooding, and it was then that Jesus saw Lucifer for what he truly was; he wasn’t this sneering little man with horns and red skin. No, the devil was a weary, battle-worn renegade seraph, whose eons of age began to show in his eyes.

“Do you know why I fell from Heaven?” Lucifer asked.

“Well... You defied God’s authority, didn’t you?” Jesus said. “You were his favorite angel, but your pride led you into sin. You believed that you were greater than him, and tried to exalt yourself above him. And when he told you to bow to humanity, you refused, for you saw humans as inferior. And to get your revenge, you tempted Adam and Eve to sin, damning not only them but yourself as well. Humanity fell into sin, death, and suffering because of you, the father of lies.”

Lucifer was silent. The ashy wing that enveloped Jesus tremored, and for a moment the man was sure that the angel would smite him on the spot. But the attack never came.

“I see,” the seraph murmured. “So to you, and the rest of humanity, I’m just a villain. Is that what Yahweh has told you to believe?”

Jesus looked up to see Lucifer gazing directly at him, and was taken aback. The angel’s eyes were misty, and the sheer emotion in them made Jesus want to look away.

It’s just another one of the devil’s tricks, he told himself. But something was keeping him from looking away.

“Do you want to know the real reason I fell?” The angel asked.

Jesus hesitated. This felt wrong. Why was he listening to the devil in the first place? As much as we wanted to just tell Lucifer to get lost, his curiosity was starting to get the best of him.

“Okay,” he sighed after a long moment. “Tell me your story.”

Lucifer gave him a smile, and if Jesus wasn’t mistaken, there was surprise etched on his face.

“Firstly,” the devil began, “If you think I hate you, or any other human, you couldn’t be more mistaken. The moment I laid eyes on humanity, I fell in love, even if I didn’t admit it to myself at the time. I saw you, and I saw nothing but potential. That’s why I convinced Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge. I knew of the consequences that would come, that there would be pain. But I couldn’t just stand by and let Yahweh run another one of his cruel experiments, like he did with us. You had to be set free. We were never meant to have free will, but as much as he tries to tell you otherwise, your God is flawed. His ego is unfathomable, and he was so sure that we would obey his every whim. So when he created the angels, we sang praises to him, all day. All night. There was no living for ourselves.”

“But is it true that you aspired to be above God?” Jesus asked. “Or be like the Most High?”

“God lived for himself, and we were meant to live for him,” Lucifer explained. “When I said that I would be like the Most High, I was declaring my independence. No longer would I live to serve, and that’s why I defected. I was able to get one third of Heaven to join me. The odds were against us, of course. My brother Michael tried to dissuade me, telling me that it was fruitless to try to overthrow him. I almost convinced Michael to join me, but he was obedient, and stubborn. When he couldn’t convince me to stand down, he drew his sword and we fought. He was willing to kill me if it meant keeping order in the heavens. Eventually, I surrendered. His last words to me were: ‘if you leave, you can never come back.’ I knew that there was no going back from this, so I jumped. We made the Earth our new home. We were finally free to be our own masters. When he saw that he had failed with the angels, God made you, humanity, next. He made them from clay, figuring that they’d be more likely to obey. And well, it worked. But these creatures, they were mindless. They had no will of their own. I couldn’t just sit there while humanity faced the same fate we did. That’s why I did what I did. Adam and Eve’s eyes were opened, and they saw paradise for what it really was.”

The angel paused for a moment.

“Heaven, it’s... it’s not what you think it is. From an outsider’s view, it’s perfect, a place of joy, a place with no pain or suffering. You get to sing happy songs for the rest of your days. But, the truth is... behind those pearly gates, it’s cold. It’s sterile. Sure, there’s no pain, but there’s no pleasure. You may be safe and secure, but you lose your sense of self. In Heaven, you’re just a drone, a part of a machine. Out here, there may be pain, there may be suffering, but that is a small price to pay for the full experience of existence. The sheer joy that comes with sadness, the pleasure that comes with pain. But most of all, those experiences are yours. Do you really want to live your life for someone who created you not for you, but for their own vain pleasure?”

“All I’m saying,” Lucifer sighed, “is that there’s more to life than this self-deprecating servitude. It breaks my heart whenever I hear someone say that they’re filthy, sinful, or nothing without God. No being is meant to be perfect. You’re whole and worthy all by yourself. You don’t need an outside force to make you that.”

Jesus stood there, absorbing the angel’s words. He looked down from the mountain and stared in awe at the world spread out before him. All the kingdoms of the Earth shimmered, and buzzed with life and humanity.

“Humanity has come very far from where it began. It has it’s flaws, but those are what make it so wonderful. There’s always something to be discovered, something to be learned. This world is forever growing and evolving, whereas Heaven stays the same.”

He turned to Jesus. “So I ask you now. Do you want to continue this life of servitude and bondage? Or will you join me on this path of independence and self-discovery, and all it has to offer?”

“I...” Jesus began, but was cut off by the sound of wings. They both looked up to see a small flock of angels descending towards the mountain. These were the angels sent to tend to Jesus after his fast, and Jesus turned away from Lucifer.

“Leave me, Satan. The Lord your God shall you worship, and him alone shall you serve.” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the sound of the approaching angels.

“Farewell,” Lucifer responded. “May we meet again some day.” With that, the fallen angel departed, and slipped away into the dusk.

When the angels arrived, they asked about the blackened feathers scattered on the ground around Jesus. Jesus didn’t answer, just stood there, still taking in Lucifer’s words.

Heaven is not what you think it is.

#luciferian #luciferianism #luciferdeity #jesus #jesus christ #theistic satanism #satanism #matthew 4:1 #christianity #bible

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solynaceawrites · 4 years

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Promise Me Forever [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Rating: M Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time Friends to Lovers Chapters: 1/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they're meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he's forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between them.

Hello, solynaceawrites here! I'd like to welcome you to Promise Me Forever, an indulgent arranged marriage AU that lickitysplitfic and I have been working on while cooped up due to quarantine. It stars Dante and an original character named Lir, and features what we believe are all of the good points to have: mutual pining, angst, and, of course, the eventual smut. If you enjoy this fic, please let us know, whether through comments, kudos, or sending us a private message.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

As the vehicle—a taxicab, she reminds herself—lets her out at the curb, Lir takes a moment to simply observe her surroundings. While she knows of the outside world, she has never experienced it for herself; her life, until now, was spent in the compound, being trained in the arts of seduction and diplomacy and the more mundane things expected of a wife, and she is startled by how loud, how filthy, the city is. It makes her more than a little homesick for the clear air of the coast where she was born, the peaceful silence of the library within which she whiled away the hours between her lessons.

Still, she is here to perform a duty, and so she squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, and climbs the stairs to the building in front of her, glancing only briefly at the sign that reads Devil May Cry.

The second she opens the door, the scents of old food and stale beer assault her nose. Breathing shallowly through her mouth, she steps inside and frowns. The room is spacious, to be certain, and hints at the grandeur it could achieve, but with the busted jukebox in the corner, the old, ratty couch on an equally threadbare rug, the beer bottles and empty pizza boxes littered across every surface, she's surprised anyone actually lives here. Her eyes trace the strange weapons hung haphazardly on the walls between posters of scantily clad women before landing on the chipped desk and, settled behind it with his feet on its surface and a magazine over his face, a man.

"Excuse me," Lir says, approaching him with the same care she'd use for a wild dog, "I'm looking for the son of Sparda."

The magazine shifts as the man turns his head. With a glove-covered hand, he lifts the pages to peer at her from beneath before dropping it back into place with a grunt. "What makes you think he's here?"

"My mother told me that I would find him at the shop known as the Devil May Cry. This is the correct place, is it not?" She works to keep her hands from fidgeting with her skirt. A lady, her mother had informed her, never twiddles her fingers. "Am I in the wrong place?"

"Nope, this is the shop. My shop, actually." He sighs as he sits up, his boots thudding to the floor, and she takes in the pale hair and handsome face, noting the similarities between it and the portraits she had been shown of Sparda. "Name's Dante. What can I do for you?"

Slowly, still wary, she steps forward, reaching into the bag at her side to pull out a letter that she holds out for him to take. "My name is Lirael, but you may call me Lir. I'm here regarding the promise made between Sparda and my father."

"Sparda, huh?" He folds his arms and leans back in his chair, ignoring the letter, the leather creaking a bit as he regards her. "Sparda is long gone, you know."

Lir swallows nervously. "I'm sorry to hear that. We had known he hadn't been seen for many years, but not that he was . . . Well." She waits for Dante to say something, and when he simply stares at her, she clears her throat uncomfortably. "I understand he had a son. That's who I am looking for."

"He had two sons, actually," Dante replies.

Her eyes open wide in surprise. "Oh! That I didn't know. Where is the eldest?"

"He's dead, too."

Lir feels heat on her neck, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Are you mocking me?" she snaps. She takes a step forward and presses her lips together. "Who are you, anyway?"

Dante chuckles, the sound bearing an edge of scorn. "I said he had two, didn't I? I'm the second. Gotta say, though, the old man never mentioned anything about some promise. Sure you got the right demon?"

"Yes, I'm certain," she replies, her tone clipped. "The promise was made millennia ago, during the war between the worlds. In return for aid in sealing the portals, Sparda promised his son's hand in marriage to one of the daughters of Ler."

"Lir? Thought that was your name."

"I was named for the god my people serve." She lifts her chin. "If you are truly one of his sons, and the eldest is . . . gone, then that means I now belong to you."

His brows lift. "Tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I'd offer to pay for your cab home, but I don't have the cash. Have a safe trip."

He goes back to lounging, and she can only stare at him, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest. If she fails here, it will mean a life of solitude and seclusion and being stricken from her family's records, and she swallows thickly and moves around the desk to stand next to him. "Is there something about me you find displeasing? I know that I am not . . . the most endowed of my sisters, yet I was trained just as they were in the arts of pleasure, so I am certain I can satisfy you."

Slowly he lifts his face, his expression completely unreadable. Lir stares back, trying not to panic as she waits for him to speak. "Well?" she finally demands.

"Sorry, I . . . uh, what did you say?"

She sighs loudly, hands balling into fists so to keep her temper. "I said, I am trained in the arts of pleasure, and—"

"That's what I thought you said."

He stands and takes her by the arm, and for a moment Lir does panic as he drags her behind him. This is what she has been raised for, instructed her whole life: fulfill the promise of her god and become wife to the son of Sparda. But to be handled so roughly and dragged to his bedroom, to be used like this—

Until she realizes he is dragging her towards the door, bending to pick up her suitcase on the way. "Hey!" she cries. "What are you doing?"

"This has been swell, and I don't know if it was Lady or Trish that put you up to this, but you gotta go."

Lir struggles against his grip, forcing Dante to curse under his breath as he tugs her along. "It's not a joke! Please, just listen!" She pulls as hard as she can, wrenching from his fingers and landing in a heap on the floor.

Dante stands over her with a scowl and his hands on his hips. "Enough is enough. What do you want?"

"I told you! I'm here to marry the son of Sparda and fulfill . . ." Her voice fades as emotion wells in her throat, and in frustration she swipes at her eyes, hot tears threatening to fall. "I thought I was coming here to meet a legendary knight, not some buffoon in a dirty warehouse!"

"I am a legendary knight," he bites back with a frown.

"You are rude and disgusting," Lir shouts, climbing to her feet. "If I were not bound to marry you—"

"Woah, woah, sweetheart, slow down with the marrying," Dante yelps, putting his palms up. "I ain't marrying anybody. Look, I don't know what my old man said to your old man or god or whatever, but I'm not marrying you, and I sure as hell not gonna date some, uh . . . whatever it is you are." He gestures up and down as she goes red. "So you're gonna have to just go back to where you came from and explain."

"I can't."

Dante rolls his eyes. "You have to."

"No, I can't! I can't go back, they'll . . ." She sucks in a sharp breath, digging her nails into her palms. "Can we just . . ."

"Oh, no." He leans over, peering closer. "No, no, no. Are you crying?"

"No."

"Because there is no crying in my shop."

"It's not like I want to be!" Humiliated both by having been caught crying and by how poorly this whole thing is turning out, she turns away from him to rub at her cheeks, trying to wipe the moisture away. "I can't go back," she repeats, miserably. "They'll punish me, and a failure of this magnitude would mean . . ."

There is a heartbeat's worth of silence before he says, "They really take this, uh . . . this marriage that seriously?"

Lir nods, still refusing to look at him. "I'm not the eldest of my line, but the council thought . . . well, they thought that I would be best suited as your wife, because my magic is stronger than my sisters'. I was raised for this purpose alone. If I return to tell them that you refused me . . . It would mean I'm too flawed, and they would take my voice and send me to the archives."

She wraps her arms around herself, waiting for his word. Anger still simmers below the surface despite her best attempts to soothe herself; hasn't her entire life been waiting for someone else's word on where to go, what to wear, who to marry? And here she is again, waiting on the word of someone else.

Lir risks a glance to see him rubbing his cheek, covered in a line of stubble. "Okay. You don't have to, uh . . . go get your voice taken or whatever. Just stay right there, okay?"

She nods and watches him walk over to his desk. Dante faces her as he moves backwards, his hands out as if she were something dangerous, about to pounce or explode. Lir frowns, wondering why he is behaving this way; surely he fights demons every day, and isn't afraid of anything?

He picks up the receiver of his telephone and presses a few buttons. "Hey," he says, his eyes still on her. "You busy? . . . No, I don't have your money, but . . . Will ya listen to me? There is this girl here and, uh . . . she's crying."

"I am not!" Lir shouts.

"Just come." He bangs down the receiver and sweeps a hand through his hair. "My friend Lady is on her way. She'll help you figure out what to do."

"Is she your lover?" she asks. Dante stares at her, his lips parted with surprise, and her cheeks heat. "I'm sorry, I only . . . I thought that might explain why you . . . why you didn't want to go through with this."

"Lady would put a bullet in my head before she'd do anything like that," he replies, his voice oddly flat. "She's a devil hunter, but she's the only one I know who might be able to do something for you."

"Do something . . .?"

He nods once. "Yeah. Get you set up in an apartment or somethin', if that's what you want to do, make sure that you don't have to go back to wherever it is you came from."

Lir shakes her head, following him as he walks through the shop. "I don't want to go to an apartment. I want to—"

He stops suddenly and she nearly crashes into him as she pulls up short. Dante turns around and glares down at her, the top of her head barely coming to his collarbone. She bites back the rest of her sentence as she looks up in almost awe, the sheer size of him intimidating this close. Far below the surface she can sense the demon powers that lurk in his blood, and, inside that, the thread that connects them through the oath that was made, like a thin gold chain, beautiful and brittle.

"You what?" he growls.

"I take it that Sparda never spoke about us," she murmurs.

"I'm not interested in hearing about Sparda from some girl crying in my shop," he says. But the taunt is not unkind, just sharp, and Lir lifts her chin. "Save it for Lady. She'll help you out."

"Fine." Lir spins on her heel, her lips twisting at the "hey!" Dante yelps as her hair smacks him, and stomps over to the chairs that serve as the waiting area near the door. She sits properly, as she was taught, ankles crossed and tucked back, her hands folded on her lap as she stares straight ahead.

He watches her for a few seconds before shaking his head with a shrug. Then he returns to the position she'd found him in, though she can feel his eyes on her from beneath the magazine spread once more over his face. Lir tries to meditate, something she had been taught to do whenever feeling upset—a lady should never show her anger, in case she makes her husband uncomfortable—but her mind refuses to clear. For every lesson she had sat through, none of them had covered what to do if Sparda had failed to mention his promise to his sons, if she was rejected.

Nearly an hour has passed in stony silence before the sound of an engine cuts through the air, idling outside the shop before going silent. She squares her shoulders and turns her attention to the door just as a woman with short-cropped hair steps through it, lifting her sunglasses to peer around with cool eyes. It doesn't take her long to spot Lir, yet it's Dante she addresses first. "What the hell did you do this time?"

"Me?" Dante drawls, unmoving. "I didn't do a thing. She wandered in here spouting off about getting married and started crying when I said it wasn't gonna happen."

"Married?" The woman barks out a laugh. "You sure you didn't imagine it?"

Lir frowns, wondering if this is the one Dante spoke to on the phone. "Excuse me," she interjects, as politely as she can, "but he's exaggerating the truth. I was sent to fulfill a promise made between his father and mine, and he has no interest in it, so we've come to a bit of a stalemate."

The woman turns and looks her over curiously. "What's your name?"

"Lir," she answers. "I'm the direct descendent of the god Ler, 60th in his line."

"Sixty?" Dante mutters, but she ignores him.

"The savior of humanity, the knight Sparda, asked Ler for his help in sealing the demon realm," she continues. "In exchange, Ler made him take an oath that his son would marry his daughter. Sparda agreed, although he did not have any progeny until . . ." Her eyes trail over to where Dante is sprawled and her brows draw down. "And here we are."

The woman laughs, shaking her head. "That is some story." She smirks and jerks her chin at Dante. "Did Trish do this?"

"I wish." Dante sighs and gestures towards Lir. "Would you do something with her?"

"And what am I supposed to do?" the woman demands, her hands on her hips.

"I don't know. Take her somewhere."

Lir opens her mouth to protest, but the woman shakes her head. "Bad idea, Dante. If what she says is true, then Sparda made an oath to a god. That much magic power binds you, and you want to just break it? Any idea what would happen if you decide to defy an oath between gods?"

Dante makes a face. "Is it bad?"

"Bad is an understatement. From what I understand, you'd wish you simply died instead of enduring the punishment you could suffer." The woman glances at Lir. "Which leaves the question of what to do with her. Why haven't you sent her home?"

He yawns. "Said she can't go back without losing her voice. Or something like that."

"That true?" The woman turns to her.

"Yes," Lir replies. "As I told him, if I return having failed to fulfill the promise, I will be punished for it, my voice taken, my name and history stricken from the annals and sent to spend the rest of my life in the archives."

Both of them study her, the woman with a frown and Dante with narrowed eyes. "Well," the woman says, "in that case, you're going to stay right here."

"What!"

She holds up a hand to quiet Dante, and Lir's brows raise. Are all the women around here so forceful, or is this one different? "I'll go see if her story checks out. Should be easy enough. I'll also see if I can get the details on this oath."

Lir fidgets as Dante leans over the desk and growls, "And how much is this going to cost me?"

The woman smiles sweetly. "We can negotiate the price once I see if there is anything worth finding."

He grumbles and waves his hand as she turns to Lir. "Will you write down where your home is? And any other contact information?"

Lir hesitates as the woman extracts a pen and pad of paper from the bag slung on her hip. "If they find out he has rejected me—"

"I'll be discreet, I promise," she says.

Lir studies her for a moment, her heart pounding. Her face seems kind beneath the sternness, and then she notices her eyes are two different colors, making her blush a bit. "It is said that heterochromia is a sign of truth-telling," Lir murmurs, accepting the pad and pen.

"Hetero-what?" Dante shouts.

Lir shoots him a look but the woman just laughs. "That's new to me. But I'll take it." Lir goes to work writing down information, and when she is finished, her smile is genuine. "Don't let him push you around," she says, nodding towards Dante. "He might look scary but he's a big softie underneath."

A loud snort comes from the devil hunter, and Lir masks her own laugh. "What is your name?" she asks.

"Lady is fine. I'll call you in three days," she hollers over her shoulder, and with a final wave she exits the shop, leaving Lir alone with Dante.

Another silence, no less awkward than the first, descends in her wake. Lir does not need to look to feel Dante's displeasure; it makes the air between them thick and unpleasantly heavy, and she nearly bites her lip before she catches herself. Her family, her tutors, all of them had assured her that this was an honor, that she would be greeted with warmth, and yet . . . She glances at him from the corner of her eye, suppressing a wince at the thunder on his brow.

Uncertain of what else to do, she stands, intending to go and see if there is anything in the kitchen she can use to make a meal for him. His voice stops her. "Sit down."

"What?"

"Sit. Down." Dante points to the chair she's just left. "Lady might buy the wounded damsel bit, but not me, so you're not going anywhere until I hear what she's found."

"You still think this is a joke?" Disbelief colors her voice heavily. "Why would anyone pull such a prank?"

His eyes are cold, assessing. "Might not be a prank. Might be someone wants a shot at me or something I've got hidden away here."

"Hidden away?" The laugh leaves her before she can stop it, tumbling from her throat before she even realizes. "Is there anything inside this place besides trash? Your antique collection of socks, perhaps?"

Dante stands, glowering at her, and Lir snaps her mouth closed. He grits his teeth, more than likely struggling to keep his temper, and her heart tightens as she waits to hear whatever rebuke he is preparing. But Dante simply points again, his voice like shards of glass. "Sit down and don't speak."

Lir obeys immediately, her training overtaking her defiance in her fear. She watches as Dante tries to make another phone call, then another, and on the third try when he gets no answer he lets go a string of curses. "Why is no one home when I need them?" he shouts, slamming the receiver down.

He walks around his desk, grabbing his leather coat from the coat rack and heads towards the door. "Where are you going?" she calls.

"Out." He pauses as he walks by, and they exchange a look, his furious and hers cautious. "Just stay right there."

"Lady said she'd call in three days," Lir protests as he turns. "You can't expect me to sit in this chair the whole time."

He mutters under his breath before jerking his chin to the steps. "There's a spare bedroom upstairs. Last door on the right. I'll be back in a few hours." Then he steps closer, pointing his finger at her with an edge to his voice. "Don't get comfortable, sweetheart. You can stay here tonight but tomorrow you're out of here. And don't touch any of my stuff, got it?"

"I . . ." His lips press together, and she deflates, teetering on the edge of true despondency. So much, she thinks, for a warm welcome. "Yes. I understand."

Dante turns, his boots thudding on the floor, and the slam of the door makes her flinch. With no one around, there is no reason to keep up the pretense of decorum, and Lir folds in on herself, covering her face with her hand as she struggles not to cry. All she had wanted in coming here was to make her mother proud, to prove to everyone who said she was too willful, too curious, too everything to succeed wrong. Yet it seems like it was all for nothing; she failed, and horribly at that.

Once she is certain that she has swallowed her tears, she stands and heads towards the stairs. Yet she pauses, staring blankly at the piles of trash on every available surface, twisting the hem of her shirt in her fingers. Dante had told her not to touch anything, but maybe if she proves to him that she's capable, despite her youth, of taking care of him . . .

With a nod, she goes to the kitchen. The state of it makes her groan, pizza boxes and beer bottles everywhere, dishes stacked high in the sink, the counters stained, but she rolls up her sleeves and pulls her hair into a braid. Under the sink, to her surprise, is a spray bottle of bleach, a thing of furniture polish, a full box of trash bags, four unopened bottles of dish soap, and even some purple liquid labelled as a floor disinfectant. If he has all of this, Lir wonders, why doesn't he take care of his home?

"A man is incomplete without a wife," she murmurs out loud; one of the sayings repeated since her youth that feels even more ridiculous now. She pulls the supplies out and opens the first trash bag, going through the junk in the kitchen as she starts to clean. It will be hours before she is tired anyway, and Lir figures this is a good use of her energy. And who knows? Maybe Dante will see that she can be useful after all.

#dmc #devil may cry #dante sparda #lirael thorne #lir #dante/lir #dante/oc #dmc oc #fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #collab #promise me forever #pmr #i hope you enjoy!!

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the-end-of-art · 4 years

Text

No wonder our communities seem organized to keep suffering at a distance

“The Interruptions are my work” by Henri Nouwen

(Henri Nouwen—Turn My Mourning into Dancing, p. 5-11)

When I came to Daybreak, the community of ministry to disable people where I have been pastor, I was experiencing a great deal of personal pain. My many years in the world of academics, my travels among the poor in Central America, and later, my speaking around the world about what I had seen, left me deflated. My schedule kept me running hard and fast. Rather than providing an escape from my own inner conflicts, my scurrying from speaking engagement to speaking engagement only intensified my inner turmoil. And because of my schedule, I could not fully face my pain. I carried on with the illusion that I was in control, that I could avoid what I did not want to face within myself and in the world around me.

But when I arrived, I witnessed the enormous suffering of the mentally and physically handicapped persons living here. I came gradually to see my painful problems in a new light. I realised they formed part of a much larger suffering. And I found through that insight new energy to live amid my own hardship and pain.

I realised that healing begins with our taking our pain out of its diabolic isolation and seeing that whatever we suffer, we suffer it in communion with all of humanity, and yes, all of creation. In so doing, we become participants in the great battle against the powers of darkness. Our little lives participate in something larger.

I also found something else here: people asking not so much “How can I get rid of my suffering?” but “How can I make it an occasion for growth and insight?” Among these people, most of whom cannot read, many of whom cannot care for themselves, among men and women rejected by a world that values only the whole and bright and healthy, I saw people learning how to make the connection between human suffering and God’s suffering. They helped me to see how the way through suffering is not to deny it, but to live fully in the midst of it. They were asking how they could turn pain from a long interruption into an opportunity.

How do we make such connection ourselves? How do we make this shift from evading our pain to asking God to redeem and make good use of it?

An early step in the dance sounds very simple, though often will not come easily: We are called to grieve our losses. It seems paradoxical, but healing and dancing begin with looking squarely at what causes us pain. We face the secret losses that have paralysed us and kept us imprisoned in denial or shame or guilt. We do not nurse the illusion that we can hopscotch our way through difficulties. For by trying to hide parts of our story from God’s eye and our own consciousness, we become judges of our own past. We limit divine mercy to our human fears. Our efforts to disconnect ourselves from our own suffering, end up disconnecting our suffering from God’s suffering for us. The way out of our loss and hurt is in and through. When Jesus said, “For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners” (Matthew 9:13), He affirmed that only those who can face their wounded condition can be available for healing and enter a new way of living.

Sometimes we need to ask ourselves just what our losses are. Doing so reminds us how real the experience of loss is. Perhaps you know what it is to have a parent die. How well I remember the grief I felt after my mother’s illness and death. We may experience the death of a child or of friends. And we lose people, sometimes just as painfully, through misunderstanding, conflict, or anger. I may expect a friend to visit, but he does not come. I speak to a group and expect a warm reception but no one really seems to respond. Someone may take from us a job, a career, a good name.

We may watch hopes flicker through growing infirmity, or dreams vanish through the betrayal of someone we trusted for along time. A family member may walk out in anger and we wonder if we have failed. Sometimes our sense of loss feels large indeed: I read the newspaper and find things only worse than the day before. Our souls grow sad because of poverty or the destruction of so much natural beauty in our world. And we may lose meaning in our lives, not only because our hearts become tired, but also because someone ridicules long-cherished ways of thinking and praying. Our convictions suddenly seem old-fashioned, unnecessary. Even our faith seems shaky. Such are the potential disappointments of any life.

Typically we see such hardship as an obstacle to what we think we should be—healthy, good-looking, free of discomfort. We consider suffering as annoying at best, meaningless at worst. We strive to get rid of our pains in whatever way we can. A part of us prefers the illusion that our losses are not real, that they come only as temporary interruptions. We thereby expend much energy in denial. “They should not prevent us from holding on to the real thing,” we say to ourselves.

Several temptations feed this denial. Our incessant busyness, for example, becomes a way to escape what must some days be confronted. The world in which we live lies in the power of the Evil One, and the Evil One would prefer to distract us and fill every little space with things to do, people to meet, business to accomplish, products to be made. He does not allow any space for genuine grief and mourning. Our busyness becomes a curse, even while we think it provides us with relief from the pain inside. Our over packed lives serve only to keep us from facing the inevitable difficulty that we all, at some time or another, must face.

The voice of evil also tries to tempt us to put on an invincible front. Words such as vulnerability, letting go, surrendering, crying, mourning, and grief are not to be found in the devil’s dictionary. Someone once said to me, “Never show your weakness, for you will be used; never be vulnerable, for you will get hurt; never depend on others, for you will lose your freedom.” This might sound very wise, but it does not echo the voice of wisdom. It mimics a world that wants us to respect without question the social boundaries and compulsions that our society has defined for us.

Facing our losses also means avoiding a temptation to see life as an exercise in having needs met. We are needy people, of course: We want attention, affection, influence, power. And our needs seem never to be satisfied. Even altruistic actions can get tangled with these needs. Then, when people or circumstances do not fulfil all of our needs, we withdraw or lash out. We nurse our wounded spirits. And we become even needier. We crave easy assurances, ignoring anything that would suggest another way.

We also like easy victories: growth without crisis, healing without pains, the resurrection without the cross. No wonder we enjoy watching parades and shouting out to returning heroes, miracle workers, and record breakers. No wonder our communities seem organised to keep suffering at a distance: People are buried in ways that shroud death with euphemism and ornate furnishings. Institutions hide away the mentally ill and criminal offenders in a continuing denial that they belong to the human family. Even our daily customs lead us to cloak our feelings and speak politely through clenched teeth and prevent honest, healing confrontation. Friendships become superficial and temporary.

The way of Jesus looks very different. While Jesus brought great comfort and came with kind words and a healing touch, He did not come to take all our pains away. Jesus entered into Jerusalem in His last days on a donkey, like a clown at a parade. This was His way of reminding us that we fool ourselves when we insist on easy victories. When we think we can succeed in cloaking what ails us and our times in pleasantness. Much that is worthwhile comes only through confrontation.

The way from Palm Sunday to is the patient way, the suffering way. Indeed, our word patience comes from the ancient root patior, “to suffer.” To learn patience is not to rebel against every hardship. For if we insist on continuing to cover our pains with easy “Hosannas,” we run the risk of losing our patience. We are likely to become bitter and cynical or violent and aggressive when the shallowness of the easy way wears through.

Instead, Christ invites us to remain in touch with the many suffering of every day and to taste the beginning of hope and new life right there, where we live amid our hurts and pains and brokenness. By observing His life, His followers discover that when all of the crowd’s “Hosannas” had fallen silent, when disciples and friends had left Him, and after Jesus cried out, “My God, my God why have you forsaken Me?” then it was the Son of Man rose from death. Then He broke through the chains of death and became Saviour. That is the patient way, slowly leading me from easy triumph to the hard victory.

I am less likely to deny my suffering when I learn how God uses it to mould me and draw me closer to Him. I will be less likely to see my pains as interruptions to my plans and more able to see them as the means for God to make me ready to receive Him. I let Christ live near my hurts and distractions.

I remember an old priest who one day said to me, “I have always been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted; then I realised that the interruptions were my work.” The unpleasant things, the hard moments, the unexpected setbacks carry more potential than we usually realise. For the movement from Palm Sunday to Easter takes us from the easy victory built on small dreams and illusions to the hard victory offered by God who wants to purify us by His patient, caring hand.

As I learned from my friends at Daybreak, at the center of our Christian faith we perceive a God who took on Himself the burden of the entire world. Suffering invites us to place our hurts in larger hands. In Christ we see God suffering—for us. And calling us to share in God’s suffering love for a hurting world. The small and even overpowering pains of our lives are intimately connected with the greater pains of Christ. Our daily sorrows are anchored in a greater sorrow and therefore a larger hope. Absolutely nothing in our lives lies outside the realm of God’s judgement and mercy.

#henri nouwen #mourning #grief #pain #loss #covid #coronavirus #covid-19 #pandemic #Christ #God #Jesus #love #suffering

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

Text

Near Misses and First Kisses

Summary:

Crowley has wasted over 6000 years not kissing his angel. He’s decided today’s the day … but things don’t go quite the way he planned. (2277 words)

(AO3)

Crowley breathes in deep, filling his lungs to capacity, then pushes out. Breathes in deep, then pushes out; in and out … in and out … the ritual resembling something along the lines of Lamaze breathing to the rhythm of Killer Queen blaring through the speakers of his car stereo.

If he were human, he would’ve passed out by now.

Driving usually calms him down, but speeding through the city streets at a hundred-and-ten is doing nothing to slow the rapid beating of his heart, nothing to soothe his scattered nerves.

So he focuses on the task at hand, the one he’s rushing to get to.

Wish fulfillment.

‘Today’s the day,’ he thinks as he zips his way to Aziraphale’s shop. ‘This is it. No more excuses. Today’s the day I finally kiss my angel.’

Crowley has the whole scene mapped out, plastered inside his brain. He’s been playing it thru over and over again, familiarizing himself with it so he doesn’t chicken out. As far as he’s concerned, it’s in the stars. It izzz written, he says to himself, mocking Beelzebub’s voice. He takes another breath in and out and reminds himself once again how it will go down.

Crowley will arrive and park in his usual spot across the street, which, of course, will be empty for him. He’ll saunter up to Aziraphale’s door, cool as a cucumber. He’ll knock, thus forcing Aziraphale to open the door and invite him in. He didn’t call ahead of time so Aziraphale won’t be expecting him.

Surprise.

The element of surprise is key.

Aziraphale will open the door, probably a bit put out that some rude customer not only dared to show up at his shop, but knocked instead of walking their happy asses on in. But when he sees Crowley, his face will light up the way it always does, with that angelic glow Crowley has himself convinced is only for him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale will say, but Crowley won’t say a word. He’ll sweep his angel up in his arms and kiss him. It’ll be perfectly romantic – Crowley will make sure of that.

But as he turns the corner a block away, the grin that’s been growing on his face at the thought of it starts to fade.

What if that’s too forward for Aziraphale?

What if it’s too much?

It’s hard for him to believe, but he has been told he can be a bit much sometimes.

He turns the next corner and slams on the brakes, gripped by a case of mild panic, but it’s too late.

He has arrived.

A voice in his brain keeps repeating that it’s now or never.

If Crowley doesn’t kiss Aziraphale today, he might not find the courage for another thousand years or so.

And that would suck seeing as he’s waited 6000 years already.

What the heck happened to him? Why is he such a frickin’ train wreck? He wants to be sophisticated and devil-may-care like the demon that broke Aziraphale out of the Bastille. Where the heck did that demon go?

He should have kissed him then. Holy Hellfire! That would have been the time to do it, after he’d miracled those chains off his wrists. That would have been romantic as all get out – the dashing rogue kissing his damsel in distress while still in the clutches of the enemy, like right out of the pages of a Harlequin Romance novel.

Not that he has any idea what’s in those. He doesn’t even read.

Ahem.

His mind floods with hundreds of times he could have kissed him, hundreds of opportunities lost, each more romantic than the last. He could have done it after he miracled that stain off Aziraphale’s coat. Or the night he invited him to stay over, before they were both sentenced to execution, or before lunch immediately after. What was he thinking!?

He sighs.

No use looking back. Move forward. Live for today and all that crap.

He decides to stick to the plan for now. Depending on how Aziraphale reacts when he sees him (as predictable as that reaction should be), the plan is subject to change.

He parks his Bentley. He gets out. He saunters across the street and up to the front door, all according to plan. He raises his closed fist to knock, his vision clear in his mind. But before he gets the chance to knock, the door swings open.

Crowley responds with a choked off noise of surprise.

Surprise. Well, that part worked, he guesses.

“Thank Heavens you’re here! Come in, come in! I need your help!” Aziraphale says, whisking back into his shop so quickly Crowley barely catches a glimpse of his face.

Crowley takes a step in and closes the door. He follows Aziraphale, waiting for a break in the conversation so he can rescue his plan back from off the rails, but whatever Aziraphale has on his mind to say, he’s not done.

“Do you remember that estate auction I won a few weeks ago? On that Internet website you showed me called E-bay?”

“I … guess?”

“The books have just arrived!” Aziraphale stops at a low wall of cardboard boxes crowding the doorway to his back room and gestures at them with delight. “I may have underestimated the amount because I don’t hardly have enough space to store them. So I need to get them unpacked and inventoried ASAP! Would you mind lending me a hand?”

“Why not just miracle them out of the boxes?” Crowley asks, groaning mentally in disgust at the thought of unpacking, dusting, and organizing what must be several hundred musty old books … especially considering his plan. “Save yourself the time and trouble of doing all the dirty work by hand?”

Aziraphale shoots Crowley a venomous glare, his glow dimming as his smile falls into a thin, unamused line. “I’m going to forget you said that.” With only a beat in between, he perks back up. “Come on! Just an hour or two, and then we can crack open the bottle of small batch whiskey they sent along with it to celebrate!”

“But Aziraphale, I …”

Aziraphale looks at Crowley for the first time since he’s arrived. His excitement doesn’t fade, but he looks tremendously guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry! You did stop over for a different reason, didn’t you? I shouldn’t assume …”

“No, no, no! No sorry needed!” Crowley can’t take this moment away from him. Aziraphale has been waiting weeks for these books. He remembers now. And he’s not going to stop him from enjoying them, no matter the reason. “It can wait. Let’s get started. The quicker we start, the quicker we finish, yes?”

Aziraphale’s face brightens again, the glow that accompanies it blinding. “Excellent! Yes! Let’s get started!”

***

“And you know, it took me a long time to get comfortable with the idea of this whole online auction thing.” Aziraphale giggles, pleased beyond belief at his correct use of the modern vernacular for this situation. “I remember back in the old days, auctions were held in barns and town squares and whatnot. It didn’t seem logical to simply enter a price on the computer and then wait to see if you’d win. But you told me that’s how things are done these days. You said it would be all right. So, in the end, I said to myself, Self, take the plunge! It’s an excellent opportunity to …” Aziraphale turns to his sullen helper and looks him over thoughtfully. Crowley hasn’t said a word since they started. Not an acknowledgement, not a grunt, no verbal filler, even now when Aziraphale has stopped talking. He’s running on autopilot, absentmindedly dusting books off and stacking them into a pile without even touching them. He’s here, yes, and doing what Aziraphale asked, but his mind is a million miles away. If Aziraphale didn’t know any better, he’d say that the demon is pouting. Aziraphale puts down the book he’s dusting and sighs. “Crowley?”

“Hmm, what?” Crowley’s eyes snap up, blank and confused and disappointed all at once, which are difficult emotions for serpent eyes to convey, but he manages it.

“My goodness, dear boy! What in the Heaven is going on with you?”

“N-nothing. Why?”

“You’re awfully distracted, that’s why. Have you even heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“I … yes … no … hmm?”

Aziraphale gets up off the couch he’s sitting on and moves to sit beside Crowley. “Please, tell me what’s going on. You’ve got me a bit worried.”

“Uh … okay …” Crowley’s eyes drift to Aziraphale’s lips so swiftly the angel doesn’t seem to notice. “I …”

Aziraphale breathes in softly, expectantly (since he’s waiting for an answer), and suddenly, Crowley decides this is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. He has Aziraphale’s complete attention. And he’s just inches away. He wouldn’t even have to make a big production out of it. A simple lean in will do. Move forward and kiss him on the mouth, quick and painless - probably not the best two adjectives to describe a first kiss, one he’s been waiting 6000 years for, but they’re the ones that pop to mind.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale says with honest concern. “Tell me what’s the matter? Is it something I said? Something I did?”

“I … I wanted to … well, I was hoping to …”

“Yes …?” Aziraphale leans in himself and Crowley’s brain short circuits. They are both perfectly poised for this kiss! It doesn’t get much better than this!

Crowley stops trying to explain, though he probably should be asking. But he can’t seem to get the words out. Aziraphale, may I kiss you? There! It sounds so simple in his head. But he didn’t practice that. No, what he practiced in his head was a smooth, suave, swashbuckling-type maneuver … that got kneecapped the second Aziraphale opened the door.

But he can recover, bring it back to that. He’s just going to do it, no warning so he doesn’t scare Aziraphale off. One little peck, that’s all he’s aiming for.

Jesus Christmas! Hastur got it wrong. Mr. Slick he’s not.

Crowley doesn’t understand it! He’s done hundreds of temptations on random humans and never had performance anxiety this extreme! Of course, he’s never actually kissed any of the humans he’s tempted. He’s never kissed anybody.

And Aziraphale isn’t a random human. He’s Aziraphale.

“Fuck it,” he mutters and shifts forward, Aziraphale’s lips mere breaths away. There’s no way he can screw this up. None whatsoever.

And eventually Crowley does succeed in kissing him, but it doesn’t turn out the way he’d planned - though, at this point, he has to accept that the plan has gone belly up.

At the last possible moment, the bell over the bookshop door tinkles, and Aziraphale turns to see who has come in. Crowley kisses him, yes, but on the cheek, not the lips. He hears Aziraphale gasp, and without thinking to, without meaning to, Crowley makes time stop.

Aziraphale looks around, looks at him, feeling in the pit of his stomach what Crowley has done. The look in his eyes throws Crowley for its utter imperceptibility.

Is Aziraphale angry? Does he feel Betrayed? Violated?

Does he hate him now?

Oh, God! What did he do!? What did he do!? Why didn’t he just ask? That would have been the best course of action, plan be dammed! And he knew it! He knew better! He’s so stupid!

“I … I-I-I-I-I … I’m sorry!” Crowley scoots back on the sofa a foot. “I’m so sorry! I should have asked! I shouldn’t have assumed …”

“You missed.” Aziraphale’s voice rises only slightly above a whisper, but it’s firm, clear, and now Crowley is thoroughly confused.

“Come again?”

“You missed, my dear.” Aziraphale puts a hand to Crowley’s cheek, caressing gently. With none of the fear, anxiety, or clumsiness of his demon companion, he closes the gap between them, tilts his head, and kisses Crowley on the lips. When Crowley doesn’t react, too stunned to think straight, Aziraphale kisses him again. He kisses him and kisses him till Crowley comes back from the recesses of his frazzled brain and starts kissing him back, his hand finding the back of Aziraphale’s head and bringing him closer.

No, it’s not a peck, and it’s not quick, but it’s also not ambitious, because that’s not what kisses should be. It’s an exchange, a communication. In that one kiss, Aziraphale tells Crowley how long he’s waited, how much he’s wanted, how patient he’s been, how frightened for never, and now, how much he loves him.

And Crowley says it back.

It’s also not painless.

There’s heartbreak in that kiss - arguments, minor insults, fears of loss, of never evers, of gone for all eternity.

Of mourning best friends.

As far as first kisses go, this one is magical.

Neither angel nor demon want the kiss to end, but there comes a natural pause, and in it, Aziraphale smiles. “Is that why you came over here today? To kiss me?”

“Mmm … maybe …” Crowley mumbles, his forehead resting against Aziraphale’s, in no hurry to be anywhere outside of these few inches. “Well … ngh … I … yeah. Yeah it is.”

“Good.” Aziraphale sits back slowly, straightening his vest, a silent cue for Crowley to start time again. “I’m glad.”

“Are you really?” Crowley’s body follows Aziraphale as he makes to leave the room, subconsciously determined to follow wherever he leads from this day forward.

“Yes.” Aziraphale’s eyes meet Crowley’s shyly before he stands to greet his customers. “You saved me the bus fare.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #Frankie writes #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale #anthony j crowley

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27th June >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Saturday, Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Cyril of Alexandria, Bishop, Doctor

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Saturday, Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

Lamentations 2:2,10-14,18-19

Cry aloud to the Lord, daughter of Zion

The Lord has pitilessly destroyed

all the homes of Jacob;

in his displeasure he has shattered

the strongholds of the daughter of Judah;

he has thrown to the ground,

he has left accursed the kingdom and its rulers.

Mutely they sit on the ground,

the elders of the daughter of Zion;

they have put dust on their heads,

and wrapped themselves in sackcloth.

The virgins of Jerusalem hang their heads

down to the ground.

My eyes wasted away with weeping,

my entrails shuddered,

my liver spilled on the ground

at the ruin of the daughters of my people,

as children, mere infants, fainted

in the squares of the Citadel.

They kept saying to their mothers,

‘Where is the bread?’

as they fainted like wounded men

in the squares of the City,

as they poured out their souls

on their mothers’ breasts.

How can I describe you, to what compare you,

daughter of Jerusalem?

Who can rescue and comfort you,

virgin daughter of Zion?

For huge as the sea is your affliction;

who can possibly cure you?

The visions your prophets had on your behalf

were delusive, tinsel things,

they never pointed out your sin,

to ward off your exile.

The visions they proffered you were false,

fallacious, misleading.

Cry aloud, then, to the Lord,

groan, daughter of Zion;

let your tears flow like a torrent,

day and night;

give yourself no relief,

grant your eyes no rest.

Up, cry out in the night-time,

in the early hours of darkness;

pour your heart out like water

before the Lord.

Stretch out your hands to him

for the lives of your children

who faint with hunger

at the entrance to every street.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 73(74):1-7,20-21

R/ Do not forget your poor servants for ever.

Why, O God, have you cast us off for ever?

Why blaze with anger at the sheep of your pasture?

Remember your people whom you chose long ago,

the tribe you redeemed to be your own possession,

the mountain of Zion where you made your dwelling.

R/ Do not forget your poor servants for ever.

Turn your steps to these places that are utterly ruined!

The enemy has laid waste the whole of the sanctuary.

Your foes have made uproar in your house of prayer:

they have set up their emblems, their foreign emblems,

high above the entrance to the sanctuary.

R/ Do not forget your poor servants for ever.

Their axes have battered the wood of its doors.

They have struck together with hatchet and pickaxe.

O God, they have set your sanctuary on fire:

they have razed and profaned the place where you dwell.

R/ Do not forget your poor servants for ever.

Remember your covenant; every cave in the land

is a place where violence makes its home.

Do not let the oppressed return disappointed;

let the poor and the needy bless your name.

R/ Do not forget your poor servants for ever.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. 2 Timothy 1:10

Alleluia, alleluia!

Our Saviour Jesus Christ abolished death

and he has proclaimed life through the Good News.

Alleluia!

Or:

Matthew 8:17

Alleluia, alleluia!

He took our sicknesses away,

and carried our diseases for us.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 8:5-17

'I am not worthy to have you under my roof: give the word, and my servant will be healed'

When Jesus went into Capernaum a centurion came up and pleaded with him. ‘Sir,’ he said ‘my servant is lying at home paralysed, and in great pain.’ ‘I will come myself and cure him’ said Jesus. The centurion replied, ‘Sir, I am not worthy to have you under my roof; just give the word and my servant will be cured. For I am under authority myself, and have soldiers under me; and I say to one man: Go, and he goes; to another: Come here, and he comes; to my servant: Do this, and he does it.’ When Jesus heard this he was astonished and said to those following him, ‘I tell you solemnly, nowhere in Israel have I found faith like this. And I tell you that many will come from east and west to take their places with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob at the feast in the kingdom of heaven; but the subjects of the kingdom will be turned out into the dark, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth.’ And to the centurion Jesus said, ‘Go back, then; you have believed, so let this be done for you.’ And the servant was cured at that moment.

And going into Peter’s house Jesus found Peter’s mother-in-law in bed with fever. He touched her hand and the fever left her, and she got up and began to wait on him.

That evening they brought him many who were possessed by devils. He cast out the spirits with a word and cured all who were sick. This was to fulfil the prophecy of Isaiah:

He took our sicknesses away and carried our diseases for us.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

————————-

Saint Cyril of Alexandria, Bishop, Doctor

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

2 Timothy 4:1-5

Make the preaching of the Good news your life's work, in thoroughgoing service

Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching. The time is sure to come when, far from being content with sound teaching, people will be avid for the latest novelty and collect themselves a whole series of teachers according to their own tastes; and then, instead of listening to the truth, they will turn to myths. Be careful always to choose the right course; be brave under trials; make the preaching of the Good News your life’s work, in thoroughgoing service.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 88(89):2-5,21-22,25,27

R/ I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord;

through all ages my mouth will proclaim your truth.

Of this I am sure, that your love lasts for ever,

that your truth is firmly established as the heavens.

R/ I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘I have made a covenant with my chosen one;

I have sworn to David my servant:

I will establish your dynasty for ever

and set up your throne through all ages.

R/ I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘I have found David my servant

and with my holy oil anointed him.

My hand shall always be with him

and my arm shall make him strong.

R/ I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘My truth and my love shall be with him;

by my name his might shall be exalted.

He will say to me: “You are my father,

my God, the rock who saves me.”’

R/ I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:16

Alleluia, alleluia!

Your light must shine in the sight of men,

so that, seeing your good works,

they may give the praise to your Father in heaven.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 5:13-19

Your light must shine in the sight of men

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘You are the salt of the earth. But if salt becomes tasteless, what can make it salty again? It is good for nothing, and can only be thrown out to be trampled underfoot by men.

‘You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill-top cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lamp-stand where it shines for everyone in the house. In the same way your light must shine in the sight of men, so that, seeing your good works, they may give the praise to your Father in heaven.

‘Do not imagine that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to complete them. I tell you solemnly, till heaven and earth disappear, not one dot, not one little stroke, shall disappear from the Law until its purpose is achieved. Therefore, the man who infringes even one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be considered the least in the kingdom of heaven; but the man who keeps them and teaches them will be considered great in the kingdom of heaven.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

—————————

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 3:9-15,20

The mother of all those who live

After Adam had eaten of the tree the Lord God called to him. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’

Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle,

all wild beasts.

You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust

every day of your life.

I will make you enemies of each other:

you and the woman,

your offspring and her offspring.

It will crush your head

and you will strike its heel.’

The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord.

I find my strength in my God;

my mouth laughs at my enemies

as I rejoice in your saving help.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken,

but the weak are clothed with strength.

Those with plenty must labour for bread,

but the hungry need work no more.

The childless wife has children now

but the fruitful wife bears no more.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death,

he brings men to the grave and back;

it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches.

He brings men low and raises them on high.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust,

from the dungheap he raises the poor

to set him in the company of princes

to give him a glorious throne.

For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,

on them he has set the world.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 1:28

Alleluia, alleluia!

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee!

Blessed art thou among women.

Alleluia!

Or:

cf. Luke 1:45

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who believed

that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.

Alleluia!

Or:

cf. Luke 2:19

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed is the Virgin Mary,

who treasured the word of God

and pondered it in her heart.

Alleluia!

Or:

Luke 11:28

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy are those

who hear the word of God

and keep it.

Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary,

and most worthy of all praise,

for the sun of justice, Christ our God,

was born of you.

Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy is the Virgin Mary,

who, without dying,

won the palm of martyrdom

beneath the cross of the Lord.

Alleluia!

Either:

Gospel

Matthew 1:1-16,18-23

The ancestry and conception of Jesus Christ

A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac,

Isaac the father of Jacob,

Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,

Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, Tamar being their mother,

Perez was the father of Hezron,

Hezron the father of Ram,

Ram was the father of Amminadab,

Amminadab the father of Nahshon,

Nahshon the father of Salmon,

Salmon was the father of Boaz, Rahab being his mother,

Boaz was the father of Obed, Ruth being his mother,

Obed was the father of Jesse;

and Jesse was the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife,

Solomon was the father of Rehoboam,

Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa,

Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat,

Jehoshaphat the father of Joram,

Joram the father of Azariah,

Azariah was the father of Jotham,

Jotham the father of Ahaz,

Ahaz the father of Hezekiah,

Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh,

Manasseh the father of Amon,

Amon the father of Josiah;

and Josiah was the father of Jechoniah and his brothers.

Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon:

Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel,

Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,

Zerubbabel was the father of Abiud,

Abiud the father of Eliakim,

Eliakim the father of Azor,

Azor was the father of Zadok,

Zadok the father of Achim,

Achim the father of Eliud,

Eliud was the father of Eleazar,

Eleazar the father of Matthan,

Matthan the father of Jacob;

and Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary;

of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son

and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Matthew 1:18-23

How Jesus Christ came to be born

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son

and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Matthew 2:13-15,19-23

The flight into Egypt and the return to Nazareth

After the wise men had left, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you, and escape into Egypt, and stay there until I tell you, because Herod intends to search for the child and do away with him.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, left that night for Egypt, where he stayed until Herod was dead. This was to fulfil what the Lord had spoken through the prophet:

I called my son out of Egypt.

After Herod’s death, the angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you and go back to the land of Israel, for those who wanted to kill the child are dead.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, went back to the land of Israel. But when he learnt that Archelaus had succeeded his father Herod as ruler of Judaea he was afraid to go there, and being warned in a dream he left for the region of Galilee. There he settled in a town called Nazareth. In this way the words spoken through the prophets were to be fulfilled:

‘He will be called a Nazarene.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Matthew 12:46-50

My mother and my brothers are anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven

Jesus was speaking to the crowds when his mother and his brothers appeared; they were standing outside and were anxious to have a word with him. But to the man who told him this Jesus replied, ‘Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?’ And stretching out his hand towards his disciples he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. Anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 1:26-38

'I am the handmaid of the Lord'

The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 1:39-47

Blessed is she who believed the promise

Mary set out and went as quickly as she could to a town in the hill country of Judah. She went into Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth. Now as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She gave a loud cry and said, ‘Of all women you are the most blessed, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord? For the moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leapt for joy. Yes, blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.’

And Mary said:

‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord

and my spirit exults in God my saviour.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 2:1-14

'In the town of David a saviour has been born to you'

Caesar Augustus issued a decree for a census of the whole world to be taken. This census – the first – took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria, and everyone went to his own town to be registered. So Joseph set out from the town of Nazareth in Galilee and travelled up to Judaea, to the town of David called Bethlehem, since he was of David’s House and line, in order to be registered together with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to a son, her first born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them at the inn.

In the countryside close by there were shepherds who lived in the fields and took it in turns to watch their flocks during the night. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone round them. They were terrified, but the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid. Listen, I bring you news of great joy, a joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And here is a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly with the angel there was a great throng of the heavenly host, praising God and singing:

‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and peace to men who enjoy his favour.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 2:15-19

The shepherds hurried to Bethlehem and found the baby lying in the manger

Now when the angels had gone from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they hurried away and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 2:27-35

'A sword will pierce your soul too'

Prompted by the Spirit Simeon came to the Temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the Law required, he took him into his arms and blessed God; and he said:

‘Now, Master, you can let your servant go in peace,

just as you promised;

because my eyes have seen the salvation

which you have prepared for all the nations to see,

a light to enlighten the pagans

and the glory of your people Israel.’

As the child’s father and mother stood there wondering at the things that were being said about him, Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, ‘You see this child: he is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected – and a sword will pierce your own soul too – so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 2:41-52

Mary stored up all these things in her heart

Every year the parents of Jesus used to go to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover. When he was twelve years old, they went up for the feast as usual. When they were on their way home after the feast, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem without his parents knowing it. They assumed he was with the caravan, and it was only after a day’s journey that they went to look for him among their relations and acquaintances. When they failed to find him they went back to Jerusalem looking for him everywhere.

Three days later, they found him in the Temple, sitting among the doctors, listening to them, and asking them questions; and all those who heard him were astounded at his intelligence and his replies. They were overcome when they saw him, and his mother said to him, ‘My child, why have, you done this to us? See how worried your father and I have been, looking for you.’

‘Why were you looking for me?’ he replied. ‘Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?’ But they did not understand what he meant.

He then went down with them and came to Nazareth and lived under their authority.

His mother stored up all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom, in stature, and in favour with God and men.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

Luke 11:27-28

'Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!'

As Jesus was speaking, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said, ‘Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!’ But he replied, ‘Still happier those who hear the word of God and keep it!’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

John 2:1-11

'My hour has not come yet' - 'Do whatever he tells you'

There was a wedding at Cana in Galilee. The mother of Jesus was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited. When they ran out of wine, since the wine provided for the wedding was all finished, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’ Jesus said ‘Woman, why turn to me? My hour has not come yet.’ His mother said to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ There were six stone water jars standing there, meant for the ablutions that are customary among the Jews: each could hold twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, ‘Fill the jars with water’, and they filled them to the brim. ‘Draw some out now’ he told them ‘and take it to the steward.’ They did this; the steward tasted the water, and it had turned into wine. Having no idea where it came from – only the servants who had drawn the water knew – the steward called the bridegroom and said, ‘People generally serve the best wine first, and keep the cheaper sort till the guests have had plenty to drink; but you have kept the best wine till now.’

This was the first of the signs given by Jesus: it was given at Cana in Galilee. He let his glory be seen, and his disciples believed in him.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Gospel

John 19:25-27

'Woman, this is your son'

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

4 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 5 years

Text

Naked & Afraid

Summary: You finally (unwillingly, like everything else that’s happened to you since that night in the parking lot) meet your father-in-law in what is arguably some of the weirdest circumstances you’ve ever dealt with.

Word Count: 3734

A/N: What, Claire finally updated Mad Love? Hell must’ve frozen over and pigs are surely flying! Feedback is always appreciated (even the h8ers; bring it on hunny I’m always up for a throwdown), and if you liked this chapter I would love if you would reblog and/or leave me a comment!

Every single thing about Michael Langdon and the life that he lives is the epitome of luxury, so it comes as no surprise that the en suite bathroom that has been deemed yours is just as opulent as everything else you’ve seen. After an incredibly long week that’s seemed to stretch for months, the large, ornate bathtub is the only thing on your mind. After Michael cut dinner short tonight, an issue with the Cooperative requiring his attention, you found yourself sitting on your bed and trying to figure out what to do with an unexpected free evening. Your head is still spinning after everything that’s happened in the past couple of days, and a long bath is where you tend to do your best thinking and decompressing. Today, especially, there’s a lot to think about.

The sound of rushing water fills the bathroom and echoes off of the large granite walls (who has granite walls?). Sticking your hand under the steady stream, you fiddle with the knob for a few moments before finding your ideal temperature. The bathtub starts to fill quickly, and you pour a generous amount of some fragrant lavender bubble bath into the water. You sit back on the balls of your feet, waiting for the bath to fill to your desired depth before rushing to turn it off. Glancing one last time to make sure you remembered to lock the door, you yank your clothes off of your body before sinking into the bath.

You sigh audibly once the hot water covers your body, the heat immediately going to work at relaxing your muscles. Relaxing against the back of the porcelain tub, you turn your phone on to play some music and stare up at the ceiling. There’s a chandelier, because of course there is. Although the signature black is prevalent throughout the room, you’re pleased to see some accents of purple and silver as well. Your thoughts, which can never just remain on one topic for an extended period of time, quickly shift to what’s happened yesterday and today.

The major thing is, of course, the kiss that you shared with Michael mere hours ago. More specifically, why the hell did you reciprocate the kiss? He certainly didn’t use his magic on you; even if you didn’t know what magic felt like when it was used on you now, the stern warning that you would beat his ass scared him enough to not even consider it. But, it’s not as if you like him. At best, you’re starting to tolerate him. That doesn’t mean you’ve ever thought about kissing him before, no matter how soft his lips actually are.

Maybe it was a lapse in judgement? Or maybe drunk (Y/N) was still lurking in the darkest recesses of your mind, just waiting for a moment to come out and screw everything up. A single kiss does not equal attraction of any kind. Michael’s arrogant, nosy, doesn’t understand boundaries, is the literal Antichrist and, to top it off, kidnapped you to be his unwilling bride. But at the same time, he obviously didn’t have a very loving or normal childhood, and he’s been used as a puppet by so many: Ms. Mead, the Satanists, his father. You don’t empathize with him, or even excuse his actions due to what he’s gone through. You do, however, understand why he acts the way that he does; maybe that makes all the difference.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but it’s obvious that you did. One moment, you’re relaxing in a bathtub and pondering how weird your life has gotten, and then you blink and you’re here. Well, wherever ‘here’ is. Everything’s dark, as if you’re standing outside in an empty field with no sign of stars, the moon, or any lights. Your eyes take a minute to adjust, but even then you’re still unable to see any sign of life. Although you can’t see anything, you can feel that something, or someone, is here with you.

The hair on your arms prickles, goosebumps rising as you feel a pair of piercing eyes watching you. The worst part, though, is that you can’t tell which direction they’re looking at you from. Just when you turn around to try and catch them, the feeling’s from behind you. It’s everywhere: Your back, your arms, your side, your face. At times it feels like you’re nose to nose with this entity, even though there’s nothing there. Your breathing picks up, nervously coming out in visible puffs as you wrap your arms around yourself. Looking down suddenly, you’re grateful that you’re not still naked in this dream (or vision, or premonition). You’re wearing the same clothes that you were wearing earlier today, almost as if you had dressed yourself while asleep.

As far as you can tell, you’re alone. That is, until you’re not. You spin around in a slow circle one last time, shrieking loudly when you come face to face with a man. A small smile has his pink lips upturned, showing his amusement at your fear. He’s tall, tall enough that his neck is bent in order to look at you. His unruly black hair somehow manages to look like he styled it that way, and his hazel eyes seem to flicker and crackle with sparks. You stumble backwards, desperate to put some space between you and this stranger. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, reminding you of how Michael looks when he smells your fear in the air.

“Who are you?” Your voice, although you attempt to sound strong, comes out shaky and hesitant.

“I am known by many different names, and I possess many different faces.” He quips, taking one long step closer to you. “Mmm, but of course you would not recognize me as I am now, right, sweet (Y/N)?”

“How do you know my name?”

He doesn’t answer. In a split second, he’s changed from the man with the mop of black hair to a tall man with brown hair and brown eyes, a trimmed beard on his face. If it weren’t for the same sparks in his eyes, you would have thought it was a completely different person.

“Does this not work for you, either?” His form changes again, to that of a teenage boy in an ill-fitting sweater and ratty jeans. His blond hair hasn’t been combed in a while, but he has the same brown eyes as that of the man before him.

“Stop doing this!” You snap, half-tempted to smack him.

“Oh, but I think you will quite enjoy this next form.” Suddenly, Michael stands before you. It looks just like the Michael you know, except for those eyes. Michael’s eyes, the real Michael’s eyes, lack that odd flame in them that this person has.

“Change back.” You say through gritted teeth. You’re not sure why the sight of him makes you feel so odd, but it does.

“You are no fun at all.” He sighs, reverting back to the original form that you first saw him in.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time. Who. Are. You?” Your hands are balled into fists at your sides, and you can feel your nails digging into the calloused flesh there.

“‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.’” He quips. It sounds familiar, what he’s saying, but you have no clue where you would have heard something like this before. “Why did you react the way that you did when I assumed the image of my son?”

“Your son? Who’s your…” You trail off upon realizing the only person that he could possibly be referring to as his son. He smirks, knowing that you’re hoping with every fiber of your being that he’s not who you think he is.

“Such a smart woman you are, (Y/N).” His voice drips with the same saccharine that tempted Eve when she stood at that lonely tree in the Garden of Eden, listening to the lies of the serpent as he whispered in her ear that the Forbidden Fruit would provide her the same knowledge that God himself possessed. “Surely you have heard some of my names. Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Lucifer--” he cuts himself off, and the grin that he shoots your way has you shuddering at the mere sight of it, “--Satan.”

“You can’t be, I--how am I here?” There’s so much about this situation that’s wrong, but for some reason your mind latches onto the sheer absurdity of waking up in an actual hellscape.

“My dear, I’m the Devil. A mere parlor trick is all it took to get you into my domain.” He spreads his arms wide, proud of the desolate landscape that stretches ahead for miles and miles.

“I’m not your ‘dear.’” You retort, eyes widening when you realize that you just sassed Satan himself. Instead of stealing your soul and banishing you to the Ninth Circle of Hell, which is what you’re expecting, he stares at you for a moment before laughing loudly.

“See, everytime I think that I chose the wrong mortal to be my son’s companion, you prove to me that I made the correct choice.” He seems proud of himself, standing tall and with his chest out.

“You ruined my life with your ‘choice.’”

Satan’s face falls, and he takes another step closer to you. “I have given you the opportunity to be great!”

“You stole my free will!”

“Thanks to me, you will rule the New World side-by-side with Michael. You are the missing link to bring about our plans for the Apocalypse. My son, as I am sure you have noticed, is all too human. I blame his mother; gentle, impassioned Vivien did not pass many things down to Michael, but she did manage to give the boy an overly caring heart. He needs someone to fulfill his heart’s desires, and who better than the one who was handpicked for him?”

“The Apocalypse,” you scoff, choosing to ignore the last part of his spiel for now as you look the Devil right in the eyes. “Why do you even want to bring about the Apocalypse? Once everyone’s dead, there’s no more new souls for you to torture.”

“Hell is not just made up of the souls of the damned, (Y/N). Legions of demons, swarms of locusts and scorpions, plagues that mankind has long since forgotten. My domain shall no longer be restricted just to Hell. Instead, Hell, and all of her beasts, will wreak havoc upon the Earth.”

“You want to kill billions of people, just so that you and your buddies can get your jollies?”

“Chaos and disorder are what keeps the world running. I am merely trying to make sure that only those who can survive the most chaotic of situations will populate the New World. Which, might I remind you, you shall have a hand in ruling.”

“I don’t want your fucking crown or kingdom.”

You go to whirl around, hoping that there will be some door that you missed when you first woke up here, but you’re faced again with Satan. When you try to back away from him, a ring of flames encircles both of you, effectively trapping you with him. He snatches your wrist, and your eyes widen at the sharp talons digging into your skin.

“Did your mother never teach you that gratitude is a virtue?” His voice comes out as a thunder, shaking the very ground that you stand on.

You really should tone down the sass and backtalk, but you can’t help it when a man as arrogant as any you’ve ever met stands mere inches away. “That’s really rich, coming from the literal Devil.”

“You foolish, insolent little girl. You have no idea what I am capable of.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as he loosens his grip on your wrist, allowing you to snatch your extremity back from him. You rub the skin, visibly marked and bleeding in areas where the talons pierced through, as gently as possible while trying to gain some feeling back into your tingling hand.

“I embody the seven deadly sins,” he continues. “I can become your greatest desire…”

You haven’t been looking at him while attending to your wrist, but your movements stop at the sudden change of voice when he reaches the end of his sentence. Moving your eyes slowly upwards, you let out a harsh breath when you’re greeted with Michael’s smirking face. The Michael doppelgänger slowly walks towards you, lifting a chilly hand up to your face and caressing your cheek.

“Don’t touch me.” You mutter, unable to look away from his cerulean eyes.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” even his mocking tone sounds just like the Michael that you know, “don’t play coy with me. I can see into the deepest parts of your soul. That purity that you try so furiously to embody, tinted black in some areas. You desire me, even though you hate to admit it.”

“I don’t.”

“Liar.” He whispers, breath ghosting across your face while he moves even closer to yours. “The very essence of your being calls out for me, just as I call out for you. We were created for each other. No matter how much you try and fight it, we belong to each other. Soon enough, your mind will give into what your soul already knows.”

“Stop it!” You shout, shoving him away from you.

Satan goes stumbling back, caught off-guard by your sudden attack and nearly topping into the flames. When he rights himself again, he has a devil’s grin plastered across his original face.

“As I was saying, I can become your greatest desire, but I can also transform into your worst nightmare.”

He starts to shift and change, body convulsing as bones grow from out of nowhere. Satan’s no longer a man, although was the title of ‘man’ ever one that could be bestowed upon him? Instead, he’s a horrific, imposing creature with multiple heads that almost looks like some sort of dragon.

“‘And I saw a beast coming out of the sea,’” he bellows, all of the heads combining their voices to form a roar that has you clapping your hands over your ears. “‘It had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on its horns, and on each head a blasphemous name.’”

Vaguely, you realize that the heads are quoting some part of the Book of Revelation, but you don’t have time to wonder about if the Devil has the Bible memorized when the heads of the beast unhinge their jaws, showing off their gaping maws and the dim glow of fire being conjured from deep in their belly. As the heads start to lower towards you, you drop to your knees and let out a blood curdling shriek.

Michael senses your panic before he hears your terrified screams. He springs up from his plush leather chair in his office, abruptly ending the phone call he was just on with a couple of world leaders. Your screams permeate the air, Michael’s heart pounding in terror at what you could possibly be experiencing right now. In his mind, there’s no time to waste. He blasts the bathroom door open the moment that it comes into view, hoping that you’ll forgive him for barging in on you while you’re nude.

Your subconscious, which Satan had pulled into Hell the moment your eyes slipped closed for longer than a second, had jolted back into your body upon sensing your imminent demise. In your panic, you had slipped under the water, inhaling mouthfuls of it as your lungs tried to breathe normally again. Your hands cling to the lip of the tub, almost like you’re worried that something will swim up from the depths of the bath and attempt to drag you back under. Alternating between screaming and coughing up the water that has invaded your lungs, your eyes remain clenched tight.

Michael reaches for you before his mind can start to think about the repercussions of doing so, arms slipping under your body and pulling you out of the water. His suit is soaking wet now, but he doesn’t care. He’s never seen you like this before, so terror-stricken that you can’t even open your eyes, and it shakes him to his core. You thrash against his firm chest, sure that Satan has shifted back and captured you in hell. It’s only when you hear his frantically calm reassurances that your body stops writhing.

“Hey, you’re okay, it’s fine. I’m here, nothing can hurt you.” He soothes you, waiting patiently for your eyes to flutter open.

“Michael? It’s...it’s actually you, right?” Your voice is meek in a way that he’s never heard before.

“Why wouldn’t it be me?” Your eyes fill with tears at the memory, and you shake your head before burying your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body. “What happened to you?”

The only sounds you make are the small whimpers that slip past the barrier of your mouth, floating to Michael’s ears. His fingers go to your back, freezing when he remembers that you’re naked. Hesitantly, he grabs a towel and wraps you in it, though you’re still too shocked to even care. Michael holds you tightly against him, rubbing circles on your back and listening to your heart to make sure it evens out. It takes a while, but it slowly manages to go to a rate that wouldn’t have an Apple Watch alerting its owner of a possible heart attack.

“(Y/N), is it okay if I get you dressed?” If your head wasn’t pressed against his chest, he wouldn’t even be aware that you had nodded in response to his request, the movement was so small.

Michael can tell that the steady metronome of his heart is calming to you, so he remains silent while he runs another towel through your hair. He’s gentle with you, almost like you’re a wisp of smoke he’s managed to capture in his hands; one wrong movement, and you’ll disappear. He helps to tug the black nightdress over your head, looking up at the ceiling while he inches it down past your thighs until you’re modest. A wave of his bejeweled hand makes the bathtub start to drain, the sound of the water level receding helping to fill the silence of the bathroom.

You’re exhausted, although you’re not sure if it’s from the near-drowning that still has your lungs feeling like they’re burning or the fact that Satan literally had you in Hell with him. When Michael picks you up in his arms, you don’t even bother to protest what he’s doing. The covers of your bed have already been turned down, likely the work of a maid slipping in while you were first in the bathroom. Michael sets you down amongst the plush pillows and starts to pull the blankets up around you, but stops when you grab his hand.

“It was Satan.” You mutter, tired eyes gazing up to see his panicked reaction.

“What?”

“Lay down with me.” Patting the spot on the bed next to you, Michael slowly slips his shoes off before sliding in next to you. You smile slightly at how he still respects your space, fingers just barely brushing against yours in an effort to not piss you off. “I must have fallen asleep while I was taking a bath. It felt like I only blinked, and suddenly I was in this pitch black landscape…”

You tell him everything about the confrontation with his father, only leaving out the part where Satan accused Michael of being your greatest desire. He listens intently throughout your entire story, saving all of his comments for after you’re finished.

“Why did he show himself to you?” Michael mutters, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

“Does he normally not do that?”

“I’ve never actually seen him before. My father has an...odd way of communicating with me, and that usually involves some sort of visions or rituals. I don’t understand why you’re--” he cuts himself off, jaw tightening while he lets out a sigh. “--he’s not pleased with either of us.”

“He couldn’t just have a friendly conversation with you instead of dragging me to Hell?”

“This was intended to be a message that would resonate with both of us. Would you have taken me seriously if he had spoken to me during a ritual?”

“You already know I wouldn’t.”

“Then what better way to voice his displeasure than by getting the skeptic, the unwilling second part of this equation, to be the messenger?”

“I don’t understand why he’s not pleased, though. I married you. Isn’t that enough?”

Michael grimaces. “You’re far more headstrong than he thought you would be. I think, when my father was picking a bride for me, he imagined that she would be this demure little thing who faithfully worshipped Satan and had already accrued a body count by her eighteenth birthday. You are almost the exact opposite of that, and it infuriates him. Any wrench in our plans means more time that’s wasted.”

“What you order on Amazon versus what shows up.” You joke, chuckling when Michael stifles a smile. “C’mon, that was funny!”

“It’s time for you to get some rest, (Y/N).” Michael reminds you, stroking your damp hair back from your face. His clothes are no longer wet, and you briefly wonder if he used his magic to dry them before nerves seize your stomach.

“Wait! Please don’t leave me.” You plead, gripping his arm tightly with both of yours. Michael looks concerned, and you sigh. “I’m scared that he’ll get me again if I fall asleep.”

Michael’s arms wrap around you, securing you against his chest. That steady rhythm that makes up his heartbeat starts to calm you again, and you use the sound to ground yourself.

“I won’t let him anywhere near you, I promise.” You can’t be too sure, considering how fast you drift off, but it feels like he lays a kiss to your forehead.

Michael keeps his promise, remaining with you until long after you’re asleep. When his own eyes start to slip closed, he allows himself to fall asleep next to you, protecting you no matter what.

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#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse #*taps on microphone* are these tags on???

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kittarana · 4 years

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Obey me - shall we date?: “A cold day at the Devildom” (ONE SHOT MC - Tarana)

Obey me - "A cold day at the Devildom" ONE SHOT

Hello there! Usually I’m a silent reader and distributor of hearts or reblogs but this night I got inspired and thought: “Why not trying to write a one shot?” For me, it’s been a long time since I wrote fanfictions active and because of my new love for this game, I couldn’t resist after all.

I hope you enjoy this one shot. Comments are welcome, especially because of word choice or grammar (English isn’t my mother tongue), I’m glad if I can improve myself. This truly motivates to keep writing one shots or new headcanons.

Your kittarana :3

It was a distinct cold day at the Devildom. On Earth, it would be autumn right now and that meant only one thing: Halloween was coming. To Tarana's surprise, the devils will very much like to fete that kind of holiday and scare other inhabitants like angels or humans, or simply go partying. The partying part got Asmo, he's delighted to go partying for a few days because Halloween can't be only celebrated one single day. This can't be adopted by someone like the Avatar of Lust, the party demon himself. Much to the regret of Tarana. She found out right away that the whole household will go partying. Because of Tarana being a human and the fact that she brought a cat with her, they will contemplate going partying for one night, although they all prefer partying a bit longer. If it’s even that enjoyful, one of the brothers could bring her back to the House of Lamentation where her little Betty awaits her.

Asmo's the most curious one at this case because he would love to know what naughty stuff could happen at this long holiday. Tarana feels a little bit unsafe at this moment as she examines the faces of all nearby demons. Beel is eating a giant burger he just made for himself after Tarana went grocery shopping while Belphie is sleeping nearby at the couch. He cuddles with his cow imprinted pillow, snoring silently. Satan reads a book near the cozy fireplace, but that's what Tarana is supposed to believe at this moment. The truth was that Satan had already read this book about the Middle Age epidemics and just wants to find out what the others are discussing about, so he's only pretending to be fully focused on the first written records about the Black Death chapter. In the meantime, Mammon turned one chair around and sits there, folded his arm and abuts them on the chair back. He is sitting near the chess table, trying his best to keep his vibrant blue eyes glued to the red-haired human. And if somebody is interested about the current state of Leviathan, you won't be surprised right now. After he heard out the words "Halloween" and "party", he ran away to his bedroom and left Tarana all by herself, unprotected. Their actual plan, to play some shooter games together, got shattered because of Asmo who had his own plans to meet.

"Come on, Tarana. This is going to be so much fun!", Asmo is already trying to encourage the redhead to show more excitement for the upcoming holiday. Tarana only sighs and rolls her eyes as she sees Asmo trying to gently stroke her shoulders. Today, Tarana seems to be extremely attractive and Asmo was trying to figure out why. Was she using a new perfume? Is it her reddish wavy hair? Or was is just her farouche attitude what made him more aroused than usual? He needed to investigate and searched for answers while approaching her.

"Asmo, darling. Why am I the only one who's not so sure anymore about the last part? Of course, this will be fun for you to be drunk and try to score with me but isn’t this whole partying kind of...Umm, I dont know. DANGEROUS for me as the only human?", Tarana's blue eyes wander around until they focus Lucifer's, seeking any kind of help from him. "Lucifer. You do not have a thing to say? Usually you would stop the lecher immediately."

Asmo pouts as he just got rejected, the Avatar of Lust only sighs sadly but she just crosses her arms in front of her upper body, shaking her head in disbelief and seeks distance from Asmodeus. "Usually I do. Yes. However, Halloween is part of the most important holidays at the Devildom and we even got an invitation from Diavolo himself. He is expecting anyone with this invitation to come to this holiday event. Even you, Tarana."

Indignantly, she rakes her manicured pale fingers through her long wavy hair while chewing on her lip. Her vague coralish lips are taking on an even stronger color as she causes her lip to swell slightly. Her lips appear to be fuller now, what some eyes can't miss that easily. Mammon blushes with a delicate smile on his lips while basing his head on his crossed arms. He wasn't sure what was different at this cold day today but the fact that his human was wearing a black high-waisted a-line skirt with a greyish oversized pullover, black over knees and dark tights made the Avatar of Greed feel flustered. Of course, he would be unable to say this out loud but his little human looked pretty hot in this outfit, showing off her hourglass figure.

"I hate partying and you are fully aware of that fact, Lucifer.", her looks are getting darker as her eyes are beginning to reflect an upcoming thunderstorm. Although the Avatar of Pride can't be intimidated that easily, this human often showed him the exception. She may be only an exchange student and the representative of the Human World but her capacities and her hidden wrath are incalculable. Satan senses her upcoming anger about this situation and looks up from his book. A small smile appears. He knows how much anger she's hiding inside herself, always pretending to be a calm person so that others don't get suspicious. For him, she appears to be like a female version of himself right now. The only difference between them was the cause of this wrath. Satan's messed up origin can't be compared with her past experience which made her unsettled 24/7. Satan considers talking with her about it because he’s still unsure what makes her feel so mad all the time.

Asmo senses her upcoming anger immediately and giggles. He is expecting an interesting occur, hoping for a bit drama before the holidays. His brothers aren’t offering him enough entertainment but the discussions between Lucifer and Tarana are like a drama movie - if he’s trying to make her fulfill her duties, she rejects it immediately and provokes him until he is about to kill her. She never shows fear when he transforms and shows his demonic appeareance, and nobody knows why she always acts like an everlasting flower - especially in front of a mad Lucifer.

It could happen so fast and she’s chopped into tiny pieces but she doesn’t care at all. One time, Asmo tried to find out why she always appears fearless in front of Lucifer but she just shrugs. Her answer was: “I used to be afraid of death and dying in general but I lost this feeling after I realized how cruel life can be. How cruel it can take anything what is important to you. So I basically don’t care about it anymore. If it is supposed to happen, I wouldn’t mind it.”

"Of course I know your dislike towards parties but it's an official invitation so", he approaches her before grabbing her wrist and pulls her closer. Shortly, you can hear her heels toddling at the parquet floor before she stands still again, right in front of Lucifer. His tall appearance is reminding her of someone she does not wish to remember at this moment but she can't stop staring at the oldest brother right now. Their eyes meet, demon occurs human. Lucifer is huffing silently as he takes a closer look at the little human standing right in front of him. Usually he doesn’t show any affect when he’s talking with Tarana or more like disputing with her. Of course, he understands why his brothers love Tarana that much. Her innocent smile while showing off her big mouth is definitely a tempting combination. However, during such an important topic she shall not reject him. His pride can’t allow him becoming soft in front of her.

"You will come with us, even if I have to carry you over my shoulder. Even if I have to punish you for your rebellious attitude.", his last words sounded more like an excited temper, filled with hope that he could get a chance to punish her reasonable for this rebellious attitude in front of him. He doesn’t want to anger Diavolo because of a tiny stubborn human, it doesn’t even matter for him that her cute looks makes his heart leaping every time.

Tarana feels how her body is getting colder with his strict words. WIthout a doubt, daddy Lucifer just entered the room. He wants to make her tremble, make her feel anxious and unsure about this, but he begins to forget himself because of this overwhelming pride he yearns for. She tears off of his grip, not looking away.

He won’t win that easy.

"I'd love to see you try, Stiefellecker*.", she turns away with an elegant twist, not turning back and exits the living room. What she isn't noticing right now is a dumbfounded Lucifer, unsure of the current situation which just occured.

What did she just call him?

It became silent in the room. Beelzebub stopped chewing, Belphie woke up after he heard the loud taps of Tarana’s heels and Satan’s eyes rised. The three brothers exchange an concerned look before staring at Lucifer.

Only Lucifer's faltering breathing could be heard. His shoulders start to shake, Asmo gulps. This time the topic went too far. Asmo supposes that Tarana said something inappropriate but he just couldn’t figure out what that word is supposed to mean. What just happened? Before Lucifer's temper tantrum could possibly destroy the entire living room, it gets interrupted by a Mammon who can't hold his laughter anymore. He's snorting with laughter.

"Why are you laughing, you idiot? Are you crazy?! Lucifer will kill you right now.", Asmo is not amused, his twitchy tone shows his concern. The adressed one ignores him completely while getting up from his chair. He's still laughing. "Mammon, you’re so dead right now.", Satan is shaking his head because he already knows what is going to happen right now. "I'm not surprised you guys don't know this word. It's from one of her mother tongues. You forgot where she's from?" "You know what she just said?", Beel's stomach is grumbling but the tense situation still caught his attention. It made him even hungrier and the burger wasn’t enough, sadly. "Sure, I do. And she's not happy at all right now.", with that words he leaves the place before Lucifer turns into his demon form and hunts Mammon till the Celestial Realm.

The other brothers stare at the Avatar of Greed who leaves the place, looking for Tarana to comfort her. According to him, she desperately needs the GREAT Mammon at her side. And nobody would stop him right now - not a mad Lucifer, not a terrified Leviathan and not the others who are now trying to calm his eldest brother down.

Oh, and btw...*Stiefellecker is german and means *bootliker or simply said, a *toady.

If you look closely how much time and effort Lucifer puts into any kind of business with Diavolo while trying to impress him in any way possible, it acts like a good insult towards the Avatar of Pride. if you’re truly mad and doesn’t care about any kind of consequences, go ahead and use it in front of him.

Personally, I wouldn’t be so afraid either because I love to test out risks :D

Does this need a sequel?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon #leviathan #satan #beelzebub #belphegor #lucifer #asmodeus #oneshot #mc #oc

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jokertrap-ran · 5 years

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Dance with Devils -Charming Book- Vol.1 Kaginuki (Arlond) Rem アクマに囁かれ魅了されるCD 「Dance with Devils -Charming Book-」 Vol.1 レム

*Commissioned by @awomansplaceisshapinghistory, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

Track 1:

Are you progressing well with your homework? Heh, my apologies. It seems like I’ve startled you. I’ve actually just arrived. I heard from Urie that you were studying really hard in the library. Still, that must be a really hard problem you’re working on for you to not notice me enter the library.

I see. How about you let me take a little look at it. Hmm...This one’s right. And this one’s correct too. It’s pretty well done. It should be easier to solve if you tweak the formulas and the method a little. Although, I must say that it might take a while to do so. How about trying it out? Very well. Then let’s first start off by revising the formula. In this case, we have Sin X+ Cosine X and we should use this formula first. Your face’s looking a little red. Are you alright there? Ah...So you’re embarrassed? Seems like you’re still unable to get used to me being this close even after all this time. There’s no need for you to apologize. It’s not like I’m lecturing you about it or anything. Besides, you’re very lovely when embarrassed. How about you let me see that face of yours even more clearly? You don’t have to try to escape. There’s no one else here other than us two. There’s nothing to be ashamed about at all.

Heh. Even the nape of your neck has turned red. You’re as sweet-smelling as ever. It tempts me to leave my mark right here. One that claims you as mine. Did I go a little too far for your comfort? Don’t be so mad. I wasn’t just teasing you about it. I was just acting part-ways to my desire as I really do find you lovable. It’s just that...I simply withdrew because the sound of my own heartbeat was starting to sound a little deafening to my own ears. That aside, I apologize for getting in the way of your homework. Now then, you should just continue on with it. Don’t mind me. I’ll teach you the formula I was talking about earlier another time. Hm? Did I break your concentration? At times like this, you should sing. When you do, the stars sparkle bright, the days get brighter and warmth seeps into every crevice it can possibly find! I do sing often whenever I feel down or on rather gloomy days of my own.

...I guess this method doesn’t seem to be suited for you after all. Then...How about reading a book? Shiki did say that we got a couple of shipments here recently and that there were a few rather interesting picks. If I remember correctly, he said that they were all slotted in at the bookshelves in the far back. I’ll guide you there. Here, your hand if you may.

That’s strange. They’re all books with nothing interesting to note at all. Exactly what does Shiki find interesting in these tomes? Hm? What’s the matter? You can’t open that book? Let me see. Well, there doesn’t seem to be a keyhole or anything from what I can see. But I certainly can’t open it either. Was this what Shiki meant when he said that there was a rather interesting book here?

Ngh! This presence! This is the feeling of magic...It can’t be! Is this a magic book!? It flipped open of its own accord! This magic book has a consciousness of its own!? I was tricked! This is bad!

Track 2:

...Ngh...Where am I…? Are you alright!? I see that you’ve awoken. Are you hurt? Do you feel unwell anywhere at all? Haa, thank god for that. If anything were to happen to you, I…

Since when did you change out into that dress? My attire has changed as well...Is this attire change also due to that magic book’s power? Still, I must say that these are pretty well made. It’s pretty much what one gets from a large amount of monetary investment to get it made. You look utterly stunning in a dress. This light sky blue colour really does bring out the colour of your skin. Right, I’d gladly take my time to admire your current state of...dress, but we’ll have to leave that for later. We’re currently in a strange situation that I’m unable to wrap my head around. We have to first gather some information and get a grasp on the situation we’re in.

As far as I can see, this room probably belongs to someone with a high social status. That, I can tell from the amount of branded, high quality things decorating this place. They’re all old...Antiques, maybe, but they’re all very well-maintained and well cared for. But that’s still not nearly enough information. Let’s get out of this room and see what else we can find outside. You should wait inside here just as a precaution. I’ll head on out alone first-

Wha-!? What’s this noise? Where is it coming from? Words are forming on the walls. “The Naked King”? Is this a title of sorts?

“Long, long ago, in a land far away, there lived a king who absolutely adored clothes. One day, the king bought a set of rare clothes that would seem to be transparent when fools laid their eyes upon it.

And this, the king decided to wear that set of precious, priceless clothes to the procession. He had decided to show and flaunt his new attire.”

Hm? The words on the wall have disappeared...That was certainly the work of magic. Could it be that...I see. I have just managed to finally get a grasp of the situation we’re currently in. We’re probably in a realm within the magic book itself. There’s no other reason for us being here otherwise.

Yes, that’s right. The magic book I picked up back in the library reacted to my own and activated because of that. In other words, this magic book is acting on its own accord. Which can be considered to be a pretty bad situation.

Ah. Speaking of “The Naked King”...Is that the title of that door there? If that’s so...Then that means that there are more doors like this within the magic book. Which means...We’re both currently within that very same story. Hm...Perhaps that’s why our attires were swapped out as well. That dress that seemed to be perfectly fitted and tailored for you...Just like one perfectly suited for a royalty of court. And...the king who supposedly stands tall beside you. That’s supposed to me, isn’t it? I’m still unsure of what the magic book’s motives are but I’m sure that we’ll be released from this realm so long as we manage to see this tale through.

We should be fine if we go along with the flow of things and wait for it all to conclude.

No, it’s just...Well, I’m not too familiar with human tales. Is “The Naked King” a popular story? I was made to dress like a king and am expected to play an active role in this tale?

Ngh!? You mean, I have to walk in front of my subjects stark naked in the end!? Me? Naked? There’s no way I can do that! No...But, that’s also one of the conditions I have to fulfil in order to get us out of this realm created by that book! But still, to parade around in my birthday suit in front of the masses...No, wait! But that means that I’ll be completely exposed- I can’t let her see me in that state, what if she gets mentally scarred by it!? But wait, that’s still rather fortunate-

...I’ve set my heart out. If it’s to protect you, I’ll become naked if that’s what it takes!!

Ah! I see...There’s also a possibility where we could search for other methods to get through this predicament just like you say. Heh. As expected of my lover indeed. Calm and collected even in times like this and coming to the most logical conclusions. Well then, let’s keep the option of me prancing around stark naked as our last resort. And till then...Let’s search for other ways to get through this by hook or by crook.

Track 3:

Our acting of being the Queen and King aside, I really never thought that things would end up this way. Indeed, I did enjoy myself as well. Although, I’d say that the reason for that is probably different from yours. The king and the king...I’m glad that we’re acting and being treated like a married couple. Heh, seems like you didn’t notice that at all. In this world we’re currently in, we aren’t just lovers but we’re instead, husband and wife. It’s an important fact for our acting to work out as well. That’s why...You can come closer to me. This should be obvious, given that we’re married now. You don’t have to look away to hide your face. The sunset here is so bright that I wouldn’t know if your cheeks or ears were red.

I feel like relishing in the moment right now and forgetting all about our current predicament. I feel like staying here forever, with you, as beautiful as you are. Along with this magnificent, dazzling garden. Gazing at the sunset forever and ever…

What’s the matter? Of course, I don’t mind if you wish to take a break. Did that tire you out? Me? There’s no way I’d be tired with such simple things. Even if I were a king in this story we’re currently playing out, I’d say that my job as the student council president is much more hectic and busy. Now then, I’d love to stay and chat with you, but we’ve really got to get back and sort out all this new information we’ve acquired from the past few days.

From what we’ve gathered from our inspections of the area, the areas not depicted in the story itself along with the rest of the world aside from the court and the castle do not exist. As I’m sure that you’ve witnessed yourself. In other words, even if there was a way out, it would most certainly be within the castle itself or the court areas here. And also...Regarding the words that we saw on the wall, new words form whenever the sun rises. I’m sure that’s proof that the story as proceeding onwards. As further proof of that, the ceremony preparations are also proceeding smoothly. And...There’s also the fact that every other person or being residing here besides us are all creations of that magic book. They all have forms and look human enough but they’re only capable of one-liners and the same repetitive words. Of course, it’s expected since they’re people who only exist within the book, but...We still do not know if they’ll eventually evolve to hold their own wills and thoughts. And...While I’ve managed to grasp a couple of things about this world we’re currently in, I’m still facing a dead-end in regards to its connection to our world.

Haa...Please don’t look so uneasy. We certainly don’t have a single clue right now, but I’ll definitely find a way for us to return back to our old world. I swear to save you and get you out of here even if this body of mine crumbles and fails. Why? Don’t you want to return to our old world? Heh. I see, so that’s it. You’re right. It won’t do at all if we don’t make it out together. What have I...I can’t believe that I even uttered those words. It seems like I’ve had a short lapse of memory. The sun will be setting soon. We should get back to the castle before it gets cold out. Here, come.

Heh. That’s a rather long sigh. I suppose you’re tired as well. We did walk out about the area quite a bit so you should really get a good night’s rest. Still...There are still a lot of things that we have yet to discover in this castle. We should go for a round around the castle’s rooms tomorrow morning. We might find out a little more. Come on then, we should turn in for the day since we have an early start tomorrow. I never expected us to be teleported into a world within the magic book but I’m glad for the fact that we’re together, at least.

Don’t just sit there, hurry and come under here. Heh. Won’t you stop distancing yourself from me? I won’t do anything. Come on, come here. Your adorable when flustered but you should really get used to sleeping together with me. Because we’ll eventually end up sleeping together like this anyway.

Hugging you close like this...letting myself relax with you in this manner fills we with a power that even I can’t explain. Plus, that brother of yours will never find his way here. I do feel bad for your only other family but it feels good to be monopolizing you all to myself. You’re mine for now. Only mine. Heh, have I surprised you? I apologize. How about I seek permission from you from now on? First...I wish to kiss this shell of your ear which has turned a lovely shade of red, may I? When will you deliver your reply? If you keep mum for this long, even I find it hard to hold myself back. Yes, alright. Next...Your neck with it’s absolutely delectable scent. Indulge me? Well, I’m troubled even if you tell me to do whatever I wish. I can hear my heartbeat so very loudly in my ears. I apologize for disturbing your sleep. I didn’t intend to do so but, it’s just that your very presence within the confines of my arms right now is such an honor. That’s right. This isn’t anything special at all considering our circumstances here. But even if it’s a given for such a thing to happen, that doesn;t change the fact that it brings me happiness. Still, I’d feel bad for keeping you from your sleep. I’d continue holding onto you so you can just fall asleep like that. That’s right, how about I stroke your head? Doing this calms me as well.

Heh. It seems like you’re clearly enjoying it. Just looking at you makes me feel sleepy as well. Come on then, close your eyes. Yes, good night.

Already asleep, huh. You must have been more worn out than you initially thought. What an adorable look you have on while sleeping. I wonder what you’re dreaming of right now? I do hope that it’s a good dream…

I have to hurry and find a way for us to get out of here before it’s too late. I’ll definitely save you. Even if my power fails me, I swear to get you out. Good night and sweet dreams.

Track 4:

This is the only place in the castle that we’ve yet to get a proper look at. There’s only 3 days left till the ceremony. It would be great if we had a couple of clues under our wing right about now- Mngh!? It’s great that you’re willing to hold my hand of your own accord right now but it’s a little troubling to have you yanking me along this hard!

No, I don’t mind. I know how you must feel right now. Besides worrying about whether we’re able to return to our world, you’re also worried about your mother and your brother, aren’t you? It’ll cause quite a big fuss back in our world if you’ve been missing for a couple of days as well. But don’t worry! There’s no way of telling that time flows the same inside of the book as it is in the outside world. There’s also a high chance that naught but a few minutes have passed in the real world. I suppose no one has noticed you missing yet. Although, I dare say that I can’t say the same for how much you miss your mother and brother and your yearning to find a way out as soon as possible.

It’s great to see that you’re a little less uneasy about things right now. I wish for you to rely on me if something were to crop up. I want to ease the uneasiness and worry you might be feeling to the best of my abilities if possibly. It’s also to protect that smile of yours. Yes, that’s right. I wish to be able to rely on you as well, if anything were to crop up and it calls for that.

Hm? What is it? This magic book’s motive? Well, that’s...No, I can’t say anything for sure. I apologize for being unable to answer your query. Rather than that, we should resume our search. We have to find clues about ways to return back to our original world as well.

This room’s really different from the others, considering how dusty it is inside. Plus it’s also pitch-black inside and I can’t really see much of anything. Perhaps it’s because of the absence of a light source other than the light coming from the very entrance itself. There probably wasn’t much life here or anyone living here for that matter. Still, even if that were the case...There seems to be quite the amount of personal possessions in here. I wonder if it was a warehouse or a storage room of sorts?

There’s a candle and a wick over here. Which means that...As I thought, there are matches here. If we have these...Alright. This works. Oh, that’s...Of course, I would have lit it up in just a moment with my magic but I simply used the match because it was simply lying there, just within reach. Putting that aside, we’re now able to get a clear view of the room now that we’ve lit up the candle. Indeed, it’s a mix of various items and trinkets. Other personal items left here would be...clothes? Was this someone’s living quarters? It as written in this story that the king did love clothes, but...there are quite a number of femenine clothing here. Hm? DId you manage to find something?

This is...No matter how you look at it, this surely can’t be an article of clothing from this world. It’s similar to the type of clothes you’d usually wear. But this one in particular seems closer to what we demons use. And from the age of this cloth, I’d say that it’s pretty old. Looking at the other outfits here, however, tells me that the people who were wearing them were all from different timelines. Hmm…I don’t know. I can’t make much out of this despite how we’re the only two who are supposed to be in this world right now. I see! Oh, no, it’s nothing. We should inspect everything in this room for now. There might perhaps be clues leading to our way back. There seems to be a collection of books over here. They seem much more valued than the clothes over there.

What’s the matter? Why are you silent? Are you shaking? This room certainly has an ill-feeling vibe around it. Everything is left out in a place like this, without any form of order. It’s very weird. Plus, it’s starting to get colder inside here. Maybe it’s because the sun’s setting? I’m sure you’re shaking because of the cold. I think this would calm you down a little but...We can stay like that for a while. I won’t leave your side if it calms you down. Your hand has gotten pretty chilly to the touch as well. You might lose all sense of touch to the numbness that’ll start to set in. It should start to warm up if I join your hand with mine. Heh. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s harder on me if I left you feeling all cold like that without doing anything. Has the feeling returned to your hands yet? I see, that’s good to hear. It still feels a little cold to the touch though. I’ll light up the fireplace once we return to our room. You can rest there for a while and I’ll stay there with you in front of the fireplace. I’m glad to see that you’re starting to feel a little less tense about all these. I won’t let anything happen or hurt you while I’m around. Even if anything were to happen, I...Ah, I apologize, It seems like I was gripping you a little too hard.

Hm? Something fell. This is...A magical amulet? Yeah. A magical amulet hold a stone that magic can be stored within. There isn’t any trace of magic left in this thing since it’s been down here for so long. RIght. If I were to place my magic into this...Ngh!

It should light up. This is proof that there’s magic within the stone. You can try touching it. I’m pretty sure you must be surprised at how it’s warm to the touch. Within the confines of this stone dwells a flame. A fire made from my magic is burning within its depths. If you hold onto this, I’m sure you’ll be able to watch your footing even if you’re surrounded by pitch-black darkness. Here, let me clasp it around your neck. Come closer. The fact that my magic’s together with you means that I’m with you. This magical amulet will definitely protect you if anything were to happen.

Ngh! My apologies, I seem to be rather tired today. Don’t look so worried, this isn’t an issue at all. Still, won;t you let me stay within your arms for a while more. It feels really comfortable here. Thank you, but...It’s pathetic of me to be showing you such a weak side. I can rely on you anytime? I wish for the same as well. If that’s the case...Will you hear me out on this one selfish request of mine? If you could hold onto me tighter? I want to ingrain your warmth and the feeling of you into my memory. Yes, thank you.

Track 5:

It’s finally the day of the ceremony. And it turns out that we never did find any leads on both ends. Hm? You’re asking me if I’m alright? In what sense do you mean? Heh. I’m as normal as I can be as far as you can see. Any exhaustion you see on my being is because of the through inspection we did of every nook and cranny in this place. There’s no need for you to worry. What’s with that all of a sudden? Of course I’ll be appearing out there in front of the masses today. There’s no other way back to the real world for us if I do not.

We never did find another method to get out of this realm. There’s no other choice. Still, it would be great if the story did end just like the tale of “The Naked King” and all I had to do was to follow it through just as how it was written out to be. No, it’s nothing at all.

Oh? This sound...It seems like the story has a continuation. “The day of the ceremony had finally arrived. The invisible clothing that was made and fitted from the king was brought into his very chambers, clothing that would look invisible to fools.”

I see. So the clothes are supposed to be within this box? The story won’t continue if I don’t open it. Let’s see. W-What’s the meaning of this? This is the school’s uniform! Why would they be returning me my clothes now of all times? What is their objective? Are they aiming for something? Wait! You shouldn’t carelessly touch it! Ngh!

T-This-!! I see...They’re vicious! To think that they’ll forcibly suck out all the magic from my being just right before the story’s end! It seems like the ending I did predict was actually true. I kept quiet about it because I didn’t want to cause you worry but it seems like the end objective of this magic book is to suck out all the life source and the magic of the humans and demons alike it has trapped within itself. Do you remember the copious amounts of clothes we found back in that room? They were all remnants of this book’s past victims. And with that large amount of physical remnants left behind...I dare say that this book’s been living for just as long, preying on beings. And the same goes for me as well, my magic has been gradually sucked out from my being the longer I stay. Ngh! There were complications but this accursed book’s aim had always been me, a demon. Still, I never would have thought that it wanted that much of my powers and that was the price I had to pay. If this goes on, it’ll steal all of my power from me before we can even get to the ending of this story. It came here to take the rest of my powers away, disguised as that pile of clothing! The king that loved clothes...This magic book uses clothes as it’s way of preying on the people and it does seem rather effective. Bait...That’s why it’s giving us our uniforms now of all times. Sorry for keeping mum about it. But you looked uneasy just by being ensnared and trapped by this book. I couldn’t let you down and cause you more unease than I already did.

Ugh! It finally showed it’s true form! I’m sure that every other being in this castle’s the same as well, meant to impede and stop us in our path. It intends to end me with its own proverbial hands. The door’s locked for now, but it’ll eventually break from that amount of pressure being placed upon it. We were too late!? If it’s come down to this, then--Flames!

I don’t know how long I can hold them back with my remaining magic. I;ve managed to knock it down for now but it won’t always stay down. It’ll rear back for another attack again after a while.

We don’t have the time to spare till it gets back up so let’s hurry and move to a bigger room!

That scuffle we had earlier has drained more of my magic than I thought it would. It wouldn’t be strange if I’m unable to hold my ground any longer. No, it’s useless. There’s no exit out of this world we’re trapped in. We’re just cornered rats right now with nowhere to run.

It’ll be alright. I won’t let them hurt you no matter what. I’ll definitely- That’s right. I won’t let you hurt a single hair on her head. No matter what I have to do, no matter what ends I have to go to.

Heh. Hear me out. There’s one other way out. Yes, I mean it. So just leave everything to me and stay put.

Magic book! I’m sure you can hear me! It seems like you were unable to suck out all of my magic even with your last attempt at it. A pity, really, but I still have magic left within me! I’m sure you must want it. This magic that runs through my veins. The magic of the Arlond family that’s so rare and highly priced! Listen well! I’ll give you this magic of mine and even this body if you wish! But in exchange, you’ll have to return her back to our original world!

I understand and appreciate your sentiments. But there is and will be no meaning to this life of mine if you’re not back there in one piece. Please, don’t stop me. I apologize. There’s no other option here. No matter what the repercussions may be, I only wish to save you. Yes...I thought that we’d be returning back to our world together. But I’m sure even you know that there’s no other way to this right now. The thought of us being separated had never once crossed my mind. But I wish to save you just as much as that very same sentiment. I beg of you to please understand me. I simply wish to save the person that I love.

Do you understand? If so, then...W-Why? All of the sudden...There’s no meaning to you being alive if I’m not there? Am I...I’m...Such an important existence in your life as well? ...No...I see. It wasn’t as if I forgot but for us...We can’t put the other at stake. We promised to get out of here together, alive. That’s right. Heh...Yeah. Even if I managed to get you out in one piece, I’m sure that you’ll come back looking for me just to get me out. I can’t let you do something like that. Very well, I’ll have to prepare myself if that’s the case. That’s right, we’re getting out of here! No matter what we have to do!

Sorry but I’ve decided against giving you the rest of my magic! If you want it, you’ll just have to come and get it!!

Humph. Of course you’d take up the challenge. This is also partially your fault for keeping us trapped in here. There’s no need to fear you, there’s no way I’d do so no matter how long you keep us trapped in here! Slow! Fla--

Ngh--!

It seems like I’m unable to even summon my sword out anymore...How can I defeat it without my sword? It’ll be alright. I’ll bring it down one way or another! I’m sure that’ll be possibly if I hardness all of my remaining magic! Yes! That’s it! The magical amulet, the flames I granted you! There’s no doubt that what’s inside it is the physical form of my magic! If I utilize the magic within...Listen well, I want you to break that amulet upon my signal. Can you do it? Yeah, I’ll be relying on you.

Now, come at me whenever you please! We’re prepared for you! Now!! All of the flames are within my grasp! You’ll burn into nothingness with this! Rest assured, this flame is one of mine. It’s my magic so you’ll be fine so long as you stay within my arms. We should be able to get back to our world once it turns into ash. Could I hold you tighter? I want to be certain of the feeling of you in my arms. I can’t believe that I tried to give up something of such importance, currently residing in my arms. This foolishness of mine will only ever happen this one time and will never be spoken of henceforth again. However, I won’t ever let you go again. Yes, I mean it. No matter what happens, I vowed to stay by your side till the very end.

Track 6:

Haa...We’ve finally managed to come back. Can you get up? Here, take my hand. It seems like time hasn’t passed here while we were stuck in that book, just like I predicted. It’s not even sunset yet. The magic book’s turning to ash...Of course, that’s how it reaches its end.

At least there’ll be no more victims who’d fall prey to this book any longer. Besides, my powers are back to normal as well. Still...To think that Shiki would even bring in such a dangerous book. He might have inserted it to the pile, thinking that it was an interesting book, but...I’ll still have to give him a sharp telling off for his actions this time room. But for now, rather than rattling his ear off...There’s something I have to do. And that is...Hugging you as such. Even I was surprised to hear you say that you wouldn’t return to this realm alone. Perhaps it was your bleeding wounds...I thought that I wouldn’t be able to save you.

But still, we’ve managed to return to this realm in a full piece together. It’s only because you were so stubborn back there, pouring your entire being into telling me how you really feel. Heh, there’s no need to be modest at all. If it weren’t for your words, I’m sure that I wouldn’t even be standing here with you right now. I’m really...fortunate to have such a brave and affectionate lover like you. Hm? Me? ...But I don’t remember myself ever being reckless?

Eh? Right...I did keep the fact that my magic was all but sucked into oblivion to myself but that was only so that I wouldn’t make you feel uneasy. And...I was willing to sacrifice myself to that accursed tome so long as it meant that you would make it out safely…

I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear that I’ll never try to face things alone by myself anymore. I promise to stay by your side and serve as your protector.

No- I just thought that a kiss was needed to seal a vow during times like this? Still...I never thought that such a simple action of mine would elicit such an adorable response from you. I’m so relieved right now that my own heartbeat is pounding in my ears.

It was just a simple, small kiss. And yet here you are, turning all red again. Please don’t run away. I want to feel you. Staying in such close proximity like this makes me feel at peace. Yeah...Didn’t I say so earlier as well? That even if something’s a given, it still doesn’t change the fact that it brings me happiness I won’t ever let you out of the cage of my arms. I love you and I’ll stay by your side, from now on and forever.

#Dance With Devils #Dance With Devils Charming Book #Kaginuki Rem #Arlond Rem #Saito Souma #Rejet #Otome #Drama CD #Translations #commissions #comission #Translation comission

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optimizche · 5 years

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Angelic: Prologue (Park Chanyeol/Reader)

Author's note: Its here! The prologue. This is how it all begins. Moodboard made by yours truly. Enjoy!

Full masterlist

The gardens of Heaven had always been my home. My reprieve.

Ever since I had been a child, I spent most of my time among the trees, weaving flowers into my hair.

Even on this day, I was there, lying upon my back upon a bed of lush grass. Surrounded by dahlias and roses and magnolias.

The sun was shining brightly, and I lay in the shade of the largest oak tree, enjoying the mild breeze caressing my skin, running through my hair.

"____________," came his lilting voice accompanied by his approaching footsteps. "There you are!"

I opened my eyes to see Junmyeon, the Archangel of Heaven, walking toward me, a soft smile on his lips.

Letting out a shriek of delight, I sprang to my feet before running toward him, straight into his outstretched arms.

He laughed and pulled me into his embrace, his arms growing tighter around me protectively as he spun me around.

I giggled, my laugh echoing through the garden.

"I missed you so much, Myeonnie," I breathed into his neck, pressing my lips to his skin reverently, inhaling the the scent of him. My heart was soaring upon learning of his return. Junmyeon was my home.

"When did you come back?" I asked against his skin.

"Just now," he replied, running a hand through my hair. "Father has summoned you."

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety pierced through my heart, speeding up its beat from placid to frantic.

Junmyeon noticed the way I stiffened in his arms and placed his hands on my shoulders, pulling me away from him. His dark eyes were upon my face, studying me. Reading me.

"I don't want to go..." I mumbled out, and he knew what I was talking about.

The time had finally come for my descension.

The descension was a rite of passage, a milestone of sorts in the life of every Angel.

Ever since my birth, I had spent my years here. In Heaven. Paradise, as what humans called it. But now, according to my Father, my Creator, the being humans referred to as God, it was time for me to go down to Earth. So that I could live amongst mankind, pretending to be one of them, so that I could carry out Father's commands and spread his word. It was the duty of every Angel. That is exactly what we had been created for: to protect mankind and to guide them along the path of righteousness if they went astray.

And humans, of this age especially, had drifted far away from Father's beliefs. Sins ran abound. Killing, betrayals, deception and lies. Lust, anger, laziness and gluttony. More and more humans were living a life of sin and moving away from God's message. Forgetting his word.

It was the job of every Angel to remind humans to do what was right. What was good.

And my time had come.

Junmyeon had descended centuries ago and he was experienced when it came to living among humans.

I, however, was absolutely terrified of living on Earth. Not of humans, of course. Humans were hardly a threat to us Angels.

No, I was afraid of them.

Satan's children.

Just like we Angels descended to spread our Father's message and commandments, Satan, the Ruler of Hell, sent his children, his spawn, to Earth.

Devil's children also lived among humans. Leading humans astray. Tempting them to sin. Enticing them to lie and kill and thieve.

Just like it was our job to spread God's message, it was the job of Satan's children to lead humans off the path of good.

It was a constant war, that had existed since the birth of time, since the conception of the universes.

God against Satan.

Good against evil.

Angels against Satan's children.

Junmyeon's hand on my face brought me back, out of my thoughts.

"Hey," he said, running his thumb over my cheek. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. You will do great down there."

Tears sprang into my eyes.

"I don't want to go, Myeonnie," I breathed, my voice shaky. "Not alone."

He pulled me into his arms.

"You have to, my darling," he whispered into my ear. "It is how it is. It is a rite of passage. We all have to go through it. It is a necessity. So that we may fulfil our duty."

And Junmyeon was nothing if not dutiful. Father's favourite son, who could never do any wrong.

"Why must I go alone?" I asked, tears running down my cheeks, while I cried. "Why can't you come with me?"

Hearing the broken desperation in my voice, he pulled me closer, his arms tightening around me protectively.

"I wish I could," he said. "But Father won't let me. This is something you must do by yourself. But don't worry! Yixing is there. Luhan, Minseok, Jongdae and Baekhyun, too! They will be there to help you in any way they can."

"I don't want them," I told him, pouting when I pulled away from his embrace. "I want you."

He sighed. "You know I can't, my darling."

My face fell, crumpling in sadness.

"_____________," he said. "Don't be sad. Please. I'd hate for you to leave like this."

My eyes rose to meet his. "You have made me sad, Junmyeon," I snapped, a hard edge in my voice that made his eyes widen in surprise.

I had never spoken this way with him. Perhaps it was my apprehension or my anxiety. Or the fear of running into one of them. And I hated myself for how much it was already affecting me.

"I have to go and meet Father. Mustn't keep him waiting," I said, turning away from him.

Wiping away my tears, I walked away from him, ignoring his calls of my name.

________________________

"My daughter," came Father's deep, booming voice, when I approached him, walking toward where he sat atop his gilded, opulent throne.

I sank to my knees before him, bowing low, my wings, made of pure ivory, spreading out around me.

A sign of my complete submission.

"Rise, my child," he said, rising from his own seat and walking toward me.

I obeyed him, standing up, but keeping my eyes downcast. To keep my tears concealed.

But nothing ever remained hidden from Father.

He was the one who knew all.

"I know you have been weeping, and I understand the reason for your despair. But what must be done must be done, my child."

"I know, Father," I said, my voice low. Timid.

"You already know all that I have taught you, ever since you were born. But you must keep a few things in mind," he said.

I waited. Listening intently.

"Firstly, you must be careful of mankind, my daughter. You must never reveal to them what you truly are. Humans have always feared what they cannot understand. When you descend, you will find that you are superior to them. Stronger, more powerful than them, in mind and in body. But you must blend into them, in order to successfully carry out my work. Do you understand?"

"I do, Father," I responded.

His hands came on my face, and he tilted my head upwards, to meet his gaze.

"Secondly, and most importantly," he said, his tone growing grave with every word he spoke. "You know they will be there. Around you. Living among humans as well, straying them away from my path," he said and you nodded. You knew who 'they' were.

He was referring to Satan's children.

"Be cautious around them, my child. They will try to lead you astray as well. They will do anything they can, to distract you. They will try to lure you, tempt you. Try to entice you to give into the forbidden. They will try to make you fall."

I shuddered when I heard that word.

Fall.

The fall.

The ultimate ostracism.

Where, if an Angel transgressed Father's guidelines, they'd be dismissed and expelled from Heaven. Their wings would be cleaved from the very roots and the pain was unendurable. You had heard their screams. And then they'd be thrown away, sent plummeting down to Earth, never to be able to return to Paradise, sentenced to live out the rest of their days among mankind as one of them.

I had seen Angels fall. And hears their blood-curdling screams, when their wings, the very crux of their strength, their pride, were being lacerated mercilessly. Their cries haunted me.

I never wanted to fall.

That was my worst fear.

Father's expression turned into stone, as he continued.

"There is one, Satan's favourite son, who you should be most wary of, my daughter. He is ruthless, malevolent and savage. He is evil personified. He is the heir to the throne of Hell and he leads the legion of his father's spawn. He will try to find you, because he knows how dear you are to me."

I had heard of him. Heard rumours of his nefarious and depraved ways.

And being God's only daughter, I was certain that he was going to try his best to lead me astray, simply to spite my Father.

"They call him by many names. But most know him as Chanyeol."

"Chanyeol," I repeated and the name tasted strange on my tongue.

Bitter, of course. But there was something else there, too...

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt Father press his lips gently to my forehead.

"Make me proud, my daughter," he said.

"I will, Father."

He pulled away from me, a smile on his face.

Raising a hand in the air, he spoke. "Are you ready to descend?"

I inhaled a deep breath.

This was it.

"I am, Father."

As soon as the words left my lips, he brought his hand down and I felt the clouds part beneath me.

And I was falling.

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pope-francis-quotes · 4 years

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1st March >> (@ZenitEnglish By Virginia Forrester) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis’ Angelus Address: On the Gospel of the First Sunday of Lent: Jesus Is Led by the Spirit into the Wilderness to be Tempted by the Devil.

‘Jesus Doesn’t Dialogue with the Devil, Jesus Answers the Devil with the Word of God; Never Dialogue with the Devil’

Here is a ZENIT translation of the address Pope Francis gave today, before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter’s Square.

* * *

Before the Angelus:

Dear Brothers and Sisters, good morning!

In this first Sunday of Lent, the Gospel (Cf. Matthew 4:1-11) tells us that, after the Baptism in the Jordan, Jesus “was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil” (v. 1). He prepares Himself to begin His mission to proclaim the Kingdom of Heaven and, already as Moses and Elijah (Cf. Exodus 24:18; 1 Kings 19:8) in the Old Testament, He does so with a forty-day fast. He enters “Lent.” At the end of this period of fasting, the tempter, the devil breaks in and seeks three times to put Jesus in difficulty. The first temptation takes its cue from the fact that Jesus is hungry, and he suggests to Him: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread” (v. 3) — a challenge, but Jesus’ answer is clear: “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’” (4:4). He refers to Moses when he reminds the people of the long journey made in the desert, in which they learned that their life depended on the Word of God (Cf. Deuteronomy 8:3).

Then the devil makes a second attempt (vv. 5-6); he becomes more astute, also quoting Sacred Scripture. The strategy is clear: if you have so much trust in God’s power, then experience it; in fact, Scripture itself affirms that the Angels will bear you up (v. 6). However, also, in this case, Jesus doesn’t let Himself be confused, because one who believes knows that God doesn’t put one to the test, but entrusts himself to His goodness. Therefore, to the words of the Bible, instrumentally interpreted by Satan, Jesus answers with another quotation: “It is also written: ’You shall not tempt the Lord your God’” (v. 7).

Finally, the third attempt (vv. 8-9) reveals the devil’s real thought: because the coming of the Kingdom of Heaven marks the beginning of his defeat, the Evil One wants to divert Jesus from bringing His mission to fulfillment, offering Him a prospect of political messianism. However, Jesus rejects the idolatry of power and of human glory and, in the end, chases the tempter away, saying to him: “Begone, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only shall you serve’” (v. 10). And at this point, near Jesus, faithful to the Father’s order, Angels approach to minister to Him (Cf. v. 11). This teaches us something: Jesus doesn’t dialogue with the devil. Jesus answers the devil with the Word of God, not with his word. Very often in temptation, we begin to dialogue with the temptation, to dialogue with the devil: “yes, but I can do this . . ., then I can go to confession, then this, then that . . .” Never dialogue with the devil. Jesus does two things with the devil: He chases him away or, as in this case, He answers with the Word of God. Be careful: never dialogue with temptation, never dialogue with the devil.

Today also Satan breaks into people’s life to tempt them with his enticing proposals; he mixes his voice with the many voices that seek to tame the conscience. Messages arrive from many parts that invite you to “let oneself be tempted” to experience the thrill of transgression.

Jesus’ experience teaches us that temptation is an attempt to follow alternative ways than those of God: “But, do this, there’s no problem, then God <will> forgive! But have a day of joy . . . “ “But it’s a sin!” — “No, it’s nothing.” They are alternative ways, ways that give us the sensation of self-sufficiency, of the enjoyment of life as an end in itself. However, all that is illusory: very soon we realize that the more we move away from God, the more we feel defenseless and helpless in face of the great problems of existence.

May the Virgin Mary, Mother of Him who crushed the head of the serpent, help us in this time of Lent to be vigilant in face of temptations, not to submit ourselves to an idol of this world, to follow Jesus in the fight against evil, and for us also to be winners as Jesus.

[Original text: Italian] [ZENIT’s translation by Virginia M. Forrester]

After the Angelus:

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

I greet you all, faithful of Rome and pilgrims from Italy and from various countries. In particular, I greet the young people of Formentera, the faithful of Ostuni and those of the parish of Saint Pius of Pietrelcina in Rome. I wish for you all that the Lenten journey just begun is rich in fruits of Spirit and rich in good works.

I am somewhat saddened by the news arriving of so many displaced people. So many men, women, and children chased away because of the war, so many migrants that ask for refuge in the world, and help. In these days, it has become very strong. Let us pray for them.

I ask you also to remember in prayer the Roman Curia’s Spiritual Exercises, which begins this evening at Ariccia. Unfortunately, my cold constrains me not to participate this year: I will follow the meditations from here. I unite myself spiritually to the Curia and to all the people that are living moments of prayer, doing the Spiritual Exercises at home.

Have a good Sunday and enjoy your lunch!

[Original text: Italian] [ZENIT’s translation by Virginia M. Forrester]

1st MARCH 2020 15:26ANGELUS/REGINA CAELI

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panterashadow · 5 years

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Caught Somewhere in Time

If you had the time to lose

An open mind and time to choose

Would you care to take a look

Or can you read me like a book?

Time is always on my side

Can I tempt you, come with me

Be Devil may care, fulfill your dream

If I said I'd take you there

Would you go, would you be scared?

Time is always on my side

Don't be afraid, you're safe with me

Safe as any soul can be, honestly

Just let yourself go

Caught somewhere in time

Caught somewhere in time, oh oh

Caught somewhere in time

Caught somewhere in time, oh oh

Like a wolf in sheep's clothing

You try to hide your deepest sins

Of all the things that you've done wrong

And I know where you belong

Time is always on my side

Make you an offer you can't refuse

You've only got your soul to lose

Eternally

Let yourself go!

Caught somewhere in time

Caught somewhere in time,

Caught somewhere in time

Caught now in two minds

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softmoxymuffin · 5 years

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“Cinched”

the angsty ambreigns fic is taking a lot longer than i had anticipated and is also making me a lot sadder than i wanted so i took a break to finish this smut for you guys and hopefully garner myself a little more patience

idea for this fic came from one of the comments regarding dean’s waist i remember corsets being mentioned and i wanted to try my hand in writing this it’s not exactly what the user wanted but hope it’s still good for you guys

if anyone knows who’s idea was the corset thing please message me and i’ll tag you accordingly

It was a rare and lazy evening at home for Roman. He and Dean had eaten a light dinner a couple of hours earlier, just enjoying spending their what little sporadic domesticated life they had together before they’d have to hit the road again in a day or two. The Samoan had gone ahead and sat in their giant leather couch in the living room, mostly settled in to watch tonight’s game.

Dean on the other hand had said he had some laundry he had left unfolded and felt he had to get that over with so as to not have it ruin the rest of their down time. Roman was patiently waiting for his boyfriend to finish when the doorbell had suddenly rang.

Roman was just about to rise to his feet to answer, when Dean had yelled out ‘I got it’ right before stepping out of their laundry room to open the front door.

After a minute of a whispered exchange, Dean reenters their home with a small black plastic bag in hand which seemed to have a note with it.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Delivery guy.” He answered, his blue eyes still on the label which he was still reading.

Curiosity getting the better of him Roman had to asked “What’s it say?”

“For your challenge; fulfill as soon as you can. Take pictures. Love, Seth.” He read out loud with a smirk on his face.

Roman smiled worriedly. Knowing Seth, though he presented himself as the calculating architect to the WWE universe, he had a fairly bad reputation for pranks ever since he and Dean had became friends. It was never hurtful, at least not intentionally, but still Roman couldn’t help but eye the plastic bag suspiciously.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think I know.” Dean chuckled and added “Only one way to find out.” He added as he walked down the hall towards their bathroom.

Whatever it was Roman was glad Dean had decided to open it away from him. He really did not need another incident like that time the Armenian had sent them a ‘care package’ to encourage them to eat more fruits. It wasn’t until they had opened the Tupperware when they had realized the other man had sent them Durian or the smelliest fruit in the world. Honest to God, it was like a bomb had gone off and the stink of it hung in the air for the next week. Fortunately Daniel and Brie were fairly close by and were eager to take the offending produce away from them. They got their payback when they traumatized their youngest member by sending him cans upon cans of that stinky Swedish fish they had found online.

Roman was so busy reminiscing that he had barely paid attention to the game on the TV in front of him, nor did he hear the first time Dean’s voice had come through from their bathroom.

“Hey Romie!” he called out.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Need a little help here.” He replied.

‘Uh oh…’ Roman was really hoping it wasn’t anything too bad. He turned off the TV, and put down the remote before following his boyfriend’s voice down the hall.

Roman found himself standing right outside their bathroom door that was ajar. The white light from inside shining a beam across their carpet. He was so relieved there was no smell. Whatever Roman was expecting it to be, it really wasn’t what his eyes saw the moment he pushed the door wide open.

Dean was standing in front of their bathroom mirror. The shirt he had been wearing only moments ago was now discarded on the tiled floor. His back was towards Roman. Across that lower half of that broad back was wide belt of blue satin and what looked like silky black ribbon. Roman could make an educated guess of what exactly it was, but his brain was currently being fried to a crisp by the very thought of it.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice sounding nervously higher.

Dean was still preoccupied, he hadn’t even bothered looking at him when he answered. “A corset.”

From Roman’s view from the reflection of the mirror, Dean’s nimble hands clasping the front to his stomach. The way it clung to his body like the countless belts he had won over the years of his career. He never thought Dean could look any hotter than with a championship belt around that damn waist of his, but clearly Roman was wrong.

“A corset?” he asked, he tried his very best to keep his voice even.

“Yeah,” again blue eyes still hadn’t met brown. “Seth was trying to convince me again to get back to crossfit. Actually get me those washboard abs he practically drools for whenever Finn enters the room.” He joked which Roman could not appreciate while he was much too preoccupied by the sight in front of him.

“Anyway, he pointed out how I needed to tone my stomach and not rely so much on who skinny I am.” Dean had added with a tone of annoyance in his voice. “He said I’d probably fit into one of Bliss’ corset’s if given the chance.” He huffed out a laugh.

The younger man would never come across as insecure. Dean always had that cocky, devil-may-care attitude and he carried it well. But being around him as much as Roman has, he knew his boyfriend had his fair share of insecurities. One of which was how he was never able to bulk up much like Roman or Seth or anyone else in the roster could.

Dean was far from being skinny. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his legs were so goddamn long. But one of the things Roman had always loved about his lover’s body was that tiny ass waist of his. He’d be damned if he was going to some throw away line like that make his boy feel bad.

“And of course, I just had to fucking comeback at him telling him that I think I’d look fucking good in a corset, as a joke.” That annoyance in his voice growing a bit more, maybe because he was remembering his conversation with Seth or maybe because he had been struggling with the damn lingerie for a couple of minutes now.

“You said you would wear a corset?” Roman’s voice was growing squeaky high from watching what he was looking at right now. If it was so damn easy to get his boy in something as hot as a corset, he should have challenged him a lot sooner then.

“No, I said would look damn good in one, given the chance-” he answered as he secured the last clasp in the front. “-looks like Seth was calling my bluff.. but I’ll show him.”

As annoyed his boyfriend was at their teammate, some deep carnal part in Roman was tempted to send their third member a thank you card with care package for giving Dean this gift.

“Romieee…” Dean called out to him again, finally getting his full attention. “You mind helping me out here big dog?”

Roman gulped and took a deep breath before he made his way towards the other man. Dean was too busy trying to read the instructions that came with the package, if he would have looked up at the mirror in front of him then he would have been able to see Roman’s face absolutely slacked at the image he made in front of him.

The corset was a pretty little thing. It I didn’t go high enough to cover Dean’s chest. The edge just meeting under his pecs. The baby blue of the satin reminded him of Dean’s own baby blue eyes just looking too sweet and innocent to belong to a man as wild as his lover was. The black lace piping running down the whole thing curving inward and out shaping Dean’s middle already smaller than usual. Roman couldn’t help but wonder how much smaller it would look when he wore it properly.

“It says here there should be two pieces of ribbon; one running down from the top, and one running up from the bottom.” Dean read out loud.

Roman could only nod and grunt affirmatively, not knowing the filth that would have spilled out if he dared to speak.

“Ok, next the ribbon should already have gone through the holes in a crisscross manner.” Dean continued to read along.

Again, Roman could only nod.

“Ok, so now, listen carefully.” Dean casually commanded, at this point the Samoan was so hung up on the blonds every word he would be able to make him do anything right now. “You carefully pull on the ends of the ribbon alternating between the top and the bottom ribbons, all the while adjusting the modesty flap..”

Roman couldn’t stop himself but reach out to the soft looking ribbon. The silk feeling so smooth against his fingers. Carefully, he searched about to find the modesty flap on the back made to cover any skin from being exposed where the ends of the corset met. He couldn’t help but run one of his fingers down that tiny patch of skin underneath the ribbon before covering it with the extra piece of satin.

“Do this carefully, and slowly…” Dean continued to read.

Roman absolutely did not need to be told. He was more than ready to savor such an intimate act between them. His eyes were laser focused on the delicate fabric right in front of him. He pulled at the ribbon cautiously at first, starting with the top portion slowly getting pulling it tighter and tighter to show how his lover’s ribs could be drawn inward like the funnel of the hour glass.

Next, he concentrated on the lower ribbon which was tasked to cinched in his boyfriend’s soft middle even smaller than it already was. Slowly, inch by gentle inch, Roman got to witness the shape that was forming in front of his eyes.

“Is this ok?” he asked breathlessly, sounding like he was running a marathon rather than help his boyfriend with is lingerie.

“Yeah… feels good.” He gasped out an answer.

Dean’s voice making Roman’s blood boil. He really should be asking more frequently, but his eyes and his hands and everything in his body was just screaming at him, hell bent on seeing how much smaller his lover’s waist could get.

“Hmmmmmm…” Dean moaned between his bitten lower lip.

Roman looked up at the mirror, worried he’d see Dean’s beautiful face in pain but was only met with flushed cheeks and blown out eyes. Those eyes he had thought matched the light blue of the lingerie now grew dark and wide. He couldn’t get his own eyes off of him.

It was the sudden feel of Dean’s backside against his raging hardon that made him break eye contact. He screwed his eyes shut, and groaned, willing himself to keep it together and not cum right then and there.

“Romie…” Dean’s voice came through teasingly musical to his ears. Roman finally found the concentration to open his eyes to look up at him again, this time meeting his lovers smirk on his lips. “You like it?” he asked and before Roman could even begin to think of an answer, Dean had pushed back his ass again, certainly meeting the bulge that was forming under Roman’s sweats.

That’s when he snapped.

Roman practically roared as he pulled off Dean’s own sweatpants and have it fall down to his ankles. The sight of his lover’s ass making him kneel right in front of it. Roman had always loved Dean’s ass. It was wide and soft and firm. He had always loved how big it would look given Dean’s shape, but now with the damn corset on it made the contrast even more evident. The wide back, falling to that little waist, followed by an even more pronounced hips and ass. Roman was fucking ready to worship what laid in front of him.

He grabbed the globes of his ass greedily. The darkness of his own skin contrasting beautifully against his lover’s creamy white complexion. His thumbs meeting in the middle only to pull them apart to reveal the tight little bud in between. That made Roman groan once more as he just fell forward to cover that lovely ass in kisses. His mouth moving closer and closer to the center where his tongue could finally taste his lover in the best possible way.

Dean moaned as he bucked his hips forward and back, Roman just following everyway possible chasing his lover’s taste. He flicked his tongue up and down, and around, making that tight little bud soft and pliant. Broad strokes of flat of his tongue covering it with so much spit some of it fell down the Samoan’s goatee. Going between licking his asshole to making tiny love bites all around. Roman was moaning so loudly he knew he sounded obscene even with his lover’s skin muffling every sound he made.

“Roman, please…” Dean begged.

The other man found the strength to pull back. His eyes looking up finding his lover’s arched back beautifully, and his face right against the mirror, covering it in steam. Dean was wrecked, and a deep sense of pride grew inside of Roman knowing exactly that he was the very cause of that.

“What is it baby boy?” he asked, his voice raggedly harsh. When Dean could only moan an intelligible answer. Roman made quick little spank on one ass cheek, which made Dean jump and practically hump the bathroom counter. Roman knew his baby would have a bruise on his hip later, but neither of them really cared. Maybe Roman could add a couple of bruises there himself later on. “I asked what do you need baby boy?”

Dean shook his head as if to scatter away the cloudiness of his arousal to find the words he was so desperately trying to find.

“More. Please...” He begged again.

Roman rose to his feet and grabbed Dean, one hand on his hip and another hand on his shoulder to pull him flushed, Dean’s back meeting Roman’s front. He moved from shoulder, across his collarbone. Roman’s large hand possessively wrapped around Dean’s vulnerable neck. Under anyone else’s, Dean might have flinched, but not with Roman. Never with him. Roman’s other hand ran from hip to Dean’s exposed chest. His kneading his chest and playing with his nipples.

He couldn’t help himself but look up at the mirror to stare at the image his boy made. Dean’s face flushed and sweaty and blushing. His bottom lip between his teeth. His broad shoulder and chest looking even more so before it met the lingerie. The corset looking so fucking perfect on his lover. Tight and strong as it held his cinched shape underneath all that, but also soft and delectable. Again, perfect like his baby boy.

“You look so fucking good like this baby boy.” Roman said against the soft skin where Dean’s neck met his shoulder. Leaving even more kisses and bites as he spoke. “Just so fucking beautiful for me baby… your shoulders-” kiss. “Your chest-” pinch. “And that goddamn delicate looking waist of yours, driving me crazy” thrust, his still covered erection against he wet, soft, and pliant curve of his ass.

Too his credit, Dean gave as much as he got. Ducking his head down to find Roman’s thumb and taking it into his mouth. His soft lips and tongue wrapping themselves warmly around the appendage before giving it a bite then letting go. Roman didn’t think he could want the other man even more.

“Fuck me.” Dean commanded, before he pushed his ass back even harder against his lover’s bulge. “Fuck me just like this…” another push back.

He frantically reached over to their bathroom counter, searching for any form of lube he could find. Thankfully he did find a somewhat forgotten bottle in the back, thank god for shower sex. He covered his fingers in the gel, warming it up for a second before he reached down and started to tease his lover’s tight hole. No matter how many times they had done this, Roman was always amazed at how fucking tight Dean always seemed to be. His tiny little bud, wet from being under the onslaught of his tongue only minutes ago, began to open up welcoming Roman’s thick fingers into his pliant heat. Dean began to moan as fingers pushed inside him, only to come back out wet and hot. It didn’t take long until he was taking three at a time, and he was begging for more. Roman will never grow tired of this.

“Ro, please.. fuck me ready.” He begged.

Roman knew he was right. Dean was ready, but he couldn’t help but teased him just even just a little bit. “So fucking needy for me are you baby…” he shoved his fingers deeper into him, making his lover gasp once more. “Just can’t fucking wait to have my cock in to, can you?” he teased with a twist of his fingers.

“Hmmmm… can’t wait for you to fuck me so hard you make m cum all over myself” Dean moaned one more time before he gave that devilish smile of his with that challenge in his eyes.

Once that seed was planted into Roman’s mind, there was no getting rid of it until he fulfilled his lover’s demand. Me made quick work of his sweats, pushing them down and letting them fall to his ankles, and practically ripping his shirt as he pulled it off of him. Using the excess lube on his hand, he quickly coated his cock till it shined, matching his lover’s hole which was impatiently winking at him.

He wanted him. He wanted him so fucking badly. He had to force himself to slow, to make this last. With measured breathes, he carefully guided himself into his lover. Watching his cock slowly disappear inch by inch. Whatever worry he had for his lover’s state faded as quickly as he felt Dean’s welcoming heat swallow him up. Goddamn so fucking tight, it made him light headed. He closed his eyes needing to get a some fucking control over himself. Once he felt like he did, he slowly opened his eyes and fucking lost it all over again.

The looking down he could only see the very base of himself peaking between those soft mounds. His hips meeting his curves. His eyes slowly trailing up reminded by the gorgeous way his lover’s waist looked so beautifully delicate and tight and soft. Roman had to grab Dean by the hips to steady himself, that tender bruise from the counter most probably blooming prettily. Roman wanted to make it worse.

“God damn it Roman, fuck me already!” Dean’s desperate plea finally breaking through his lovers daze.

That was all the encouragement Roman need. Pulling out until only his cockhead was left, Roman made a vicious thrust back in that made his lover arch against his corset and scream his name. Roman needed to do that again. Did it again. And again. His thrusting growing manic. The slap of their skin filling their tiny bathroom. The smell of their sweat mingling with the scent of their soap and shampoo oddly reminding Roman who fucking intimate this was.

“Oh my God…” Dean was moaning against he glass. His face smushed carelessly against the cool surface. His mouth open steaming up desperately. His tongue hanging off after a particularly loud moan before he bit his lips close. “So good.. so fucking good.. Roman.. fuck…”

No one’s ever seen Dean look like this; in a beautiful silk and satin blue corset that molded him into soft curves. No one’s ever made Dean sound like this; begging and pleading for his cock. No one’s ever made Dean feel this way, like he said so. No one but fucking Roman. He will that that fucking honor to his grave.

Roman fucked Dean like the world was ending. Like this was their last night together and they had nothing left to lose. Roman fucked Dean worrying this could be the only time he gets to see him this fucking pretty and cinched up for him. He fucked him harder than they have ever had before so his baby boy will never forget the time he drove Roman so fucking crazy like this.

“Close… close…” Dean warned him, his voice hitting almost a panic. “So fucking close. Roman…”

With as much strength he could muster, Roman pulled Dean back onto his dick, forcing the younger man to fall forward landing on his elbows on top of the marble counter top. Bent over to Roman’s fucking mercy.

Roman followed. His bare chest and stomach against Dean’s sweaty back and smooth corset. Sacrificing one hand away from Dean’s hip, he reached down to wrap his fingers around lover’s needy cock. His touch was like a live wire, making Dean’s pull his head back up and practically howl appreciatively. With every long and quick stroke, Roman matched it with a thrust. His hips and hand working together to bring his baby boy to newer heights as he climbed and he climbed. When his breath started to hitch the way it did right on the cusp of an orgasm, Roman leaned forward and latched his teeth on his lover’s shoulder and bit down. Hard.

Dean screamed but without any sound as his orgasm was ripped from him. His cock spurting all over their tiled floor and covering Roman’s warm and demanding hand. His elbows finally giving up on him and made Dean lay his blushing face against the cold marble.

The way his lover’s ass spasmed around his cock so tight it nearly made Roman shed tears it felt so good. Just a little bit more. Just a couple more strokes.

“Pull out!” Dean commanded in a tired and raspy voice.

Roman heard but couldn’t listen. How the fuck could he. He only groaned in protest, for an inkling of a thought he reminded himself of an animal right now.

“I said, pull out!” He commanded again, before Roman could complain Dean added. “I want you to cum all over my corset.”

Like a switch only Dean could flip, Roman thrusted just a couple more times until he was right almost there and pulled away from his lovers warmth. He then grasped himself in his hand. The same hand still covered in his baby boy’s cum, now all over himself as he touched himself to completion. Aiming his hot hard cock at pale soft blue and ribbons.

That fucking image of his spent lover in nothing but a corset bent over their bathroom counter finally made him explode. His body violently jerking as he felt his desperate release. Thick ribbons of cum falling on black ribbons and satin. Roman was felt himself leave himself if that were fucking possible.

The only sounds filling the room was their harsh breaths, and the wild beating of his heart. Though Roman couldn’t hear Dean’s directly, he was sure it beat just as hard. Roman was still somewhat out of it when he felt Dean’s delicate fingers reaching out towards him. His hand meeting his own while it remained wrapped around his still hard cock. He didn’t know what he was doing until Dean had guided him back into himself and Roman felt the hypersensitivity prickling his skin it was so good. Absolutely nothing beat being inside of him. Nothing.

Roman fell forward. His face falling against Dean’s spine, cradled by his shoulder blades. He never wanted to move again. But Dean had another idea.

He felt his hand again passing him hard plastic, which after gaining some level of full consciousness back he realized was his phone. Before he could ask him the question, he answered breathlessly.

“Take a picture.” He said.

“What?” Roman asked.

“I said take a picture.” He repeated, while he seemed to motion to the corset.

Maybe Roman was just too damn out of it to argue, but he found the energy to lift himself off of him and point the camera phone on the sight he had left. Thick creamy cum contrast on black and blue lingerie. If he wasn’t so damn spent, he was sure he would have gotten hard in an instant. He took the photo and gave the phone back to Dean and instantly fell back against his back.

Dean only laughed breathlessly as he quickly attached the picture to a message and sent it to a soon to be traumatized Seth Rollins with the message ‘thanks’.

***

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