#out here making your statues gay like the menace i am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

momentsofbllove · 4 years

Text

So after rewatching Until We Meet Again (because why not?) I finally picked Where Your Eyes Linger as my next drama to watch.

I picked it because it's very short (just 8 episodes, about 10-15 minutes each) and because I had seen a lot of posts about how great it is.

My dudes... I am three minutes into this show and already losing my mind! I'm going to liveblog while I watch it because I'm bursting with feelings and if I wait until the end I feel like my only response will be ASFJDGSHSAAAFHUAA!!, you know?

Anywho... spoilers ahead, obviously.

EPISODE ONE:

Literally the first line Kang-gook speaks makes me love him. That unspoken menace of 'if it was you that hurt my friend, I'm going to beat your ass for daring to touch him'.

'I was wondering why you didn't appear.' We are 2 minutes in and establishing that these two are always together. It's just a fact and apparently everyone knows it. Yes. Yes, good.

The ICE in Han Tae-joo's eyes when the asshole calls Kang-gook a servant... even though Kang-gook admits it easily Tae-joo goes from 'this is all fun and games' to 'i hate this guy with a passion' in .003 seconds.

Yeeeees! I LIVE for the 'hurt me all you want but don't lay a hand on him' dynamic.

And now we're following up that by finding out that Kang-gook is basically a whipping-boy?! What?! 😧

Oh god, and that sweet look of reassurance that Kang-gook gives Tae-joo when his dad threatens to send him away. These two are killing me!

And now we have taking care of each other when they're hurt. This show is hitting all of my favorite tropes. I can't.

We go from oblivious flirting to gay panic to rolling around on the floor together... and end it all with Tae-joo gently stroking Kang-gook's ear to win the fight. Just... 😳

What?! Who just walks up to two random guys at a restaurant and asks who's the top/bottom?!! Like... ask if they're a couple MAYBE if you have no sense of boundaries, but that? Good grief!

Okay, I like this girl. Her clear dismissal of Tae-joo is boss energy. She has no time for spoiled rich boys who think too highly of themselves.

Tae-joo is so pleased that Kang-gook didn't give her his number. I see you, boy.

Wait, so they're just sharing a bed? Do they sleep together every night? Or did Kang-gook crawl into bed with Tae-joo in the middle of the night? Tae-joo tries to wake him but didn't seem surprised that he was there. What is happening?

Ooooh! Kang-gook is jealous! That ear stroking is for him and him alone, Tae-joo!

Well gosh! What a first episode. They packed so much into 12 minutes of screen time.

On to the next one!

EPISODE TWO:

Tae-joo's devastation at Kang-gook playfully suggesting he shouldn't be his bodyguard any more. Dang boy. Be more obvious!

Oh no! Kang-gook thinking he can never be with Tae-joo because of class status... that's always the best part of these master-servant dynamics, but it still always hurts!

It's such a small line, but it speaks volumes when Kang-gook says there's 'no need' to check his phone. He's here with Tae-joo... why would he need to talk to anyone else?

And then to find out that Tae-joo gave his number to that girl and is telling him to 'experiment'? Tae-joo... why are you stupid?

I feel bad for this girl. She really needs to listen to her (weirdly invasive) mom.

The fact that Kang-gook only feels like they can act as equals when they're sparring...

Did Tae-joo just say he strokes Kang-gook's ear to calm himself down? Boy, that is NOT heterosexual behavior.

Did Kang-gook just hurt him for real?! Boy, why are you stupid?

Girl, seriously... listen to your mother.

Oh god, he's got a sling and everything! Kang-gook, what did you do?! The poor boy just wanted to admire your muscles. Smh.

‘What do I do about washing up?’ Hmmm. I wonder... 🤔😆

'I really don't want to.' Kang-gook, you are a lying liar that lies!

Kang-gook... why? You know you don't care about this girl. Don't be dumb.

This boy... you hurt your wrist not your brain, you cannot possibly be this useless!

But if it means we get Kang-gook undressing you, it's fine. Be as useless as you want.

And hair washing. What is it about hair washing? It is good every single time.

Alright, well this just keeps getting better and better. Good thing this series is short because I'm definitely going to need to watch it a few more times.

EPISODE THREE:

Repeating the undressing and hair washing from the last episode. I am okay with this.

And Kang-gook letting himself get a little indulgent, bless.

Oh NOW you're worried about him dating and 'neglecting' you? Where was that worry when you were handing out his number to random girls? You've played yourself, Tae-joo.

Yeah, I don't think Kang-gook wants to take dating advice from you, you idiot. You're a player. 😠

And poor Kang-gook has to watch you be a player... uhg. Get your shit together, boy!

What... what are you doing, Tae-joo? Are you... pretending to be on a date with Kang-gook? This is not how you teach someone to date! 🤦‍♀️

'Isn't it a bit boring when it's just the two of us?' BOY! How are you THAT oblivious?!

Oof, Kang-gook has found his limits. Poor thing. He desperately wants all these things that Tae-joo keeps doing. The ear stroking, the touching, pulling him in so close. But you can see it's killing him to have these things when Tae-joo doesn't mean it the way he wants him to.

Uhg, these episodes are so short! I know it was originally supposed to be a movie and they had to change things up thanks to shut downs (edit: I maybe was wrong about this? was it always supposed to be a mini-series but then they recut it into a movie? idk.), but I feel like hardly anything gets to happen before we're moving on. I wonder if I could find it somewhere in one long cut. I did.

EPISODE FOUR:

Okay, Tae-joo is cute in his glasses.

And Kang-gook being a worried mother hen. Precious.

What?! The injury was fake?!! You had him wash your hair and cook for you and FEED you for nothing?! Boy, explain yourself!

'He's really going.' You pushed him into this! God you're so stupid. 🤦‍♀️

Oh child! This is not what you tell a guy on the first date! 😬

Oh, haha. She was joking. Still... I don't think this girl knows how to date any more than Kang-gook does.

Han Tae-joo, are you really crashing the date you forced your friend to go on in the first place? What is wrong with you?!

Wait... why does that guy want to hang out with Tae-joo? Because he's handsome? But not in an 'I want to date him' sort of way. I'm confused.

Tae-joo, stay out of their date! I want to root for you here, dude, but you are going about this all wrong.

Aaand now he's insulting them. Boy... why?

He's making... Kang-gook... walk home. Because he's a whiny baby that doesn't know how to handle his own feelings. I can't with him.

Okay, I'm actually kind of glad that this is a short series. Because you know that in a full BL series this nonsense would last at least another 5-6 hours of screen time. Lack of communication seems to be the #1 BL drama trope.

I'm going to stop for now, it's past midnight. I'll finish the series tomorrow. Episodes 4-8!

#where your eyes linger #korean bl #bl drama #bl series #my reviews #bl drama review

28 notes · View notes

cawolters · 4 years

Text

✷ Babes in the Well ✷ (Liar Alliance snippet)

Good day to you! It’s been a minute, but here I am with a little thing that I think you guys might think will be a neat read.

It’s a little snippet of a scene I wrote between charming young King Deria and my newly hatched/refined character, gloomy necromantic Hinrich.

(Hinrich is a Mask btw, a sort of ambassador to the Kings of the ten kingdoms in the empire.)

Where: Tall Castle at the beginning of book two

Who: Deria is talking

What: He’s wandering the Chalice Room, looking at paintings and thinking about magic when he’s interrupted by a gloomy apparition.

WC: 1800

Themes: Ghost magic, politcal intrigue, secret coup!!

Is it gay?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Well. Yes, on multiple levels, but not explicit in this scene.

Unfortunately.

Plot needs pages too.

✴ BLUE FLAG ✴

What a delightful day it was indeed. The sunlight in the mountains cast its gentle overcast glare over the hills as afternoon clouds drifted slowly over the subtly rising and falling hills deep down, down, in the valley, below my childhood home, Tall Castle.

The patterns of shy light and then sporadic sharp beams, raying out of the heavens and touching a little cottage outside the village, was more enchanting than magic.

Or, I would have thought that before I had seen the gold coin eyes of the Blade by the Empress’ side. Ah, and then her flat pieces of dull ebony to contrast his. They had been standing so close and then she had laughed. I saw it, a flower blooming in the deep dark night.

Magic indeed.

I drifted away from the massive window and toward the far end of the grand chambers of the vacant Chalice Room . My father had called it the Chalice Room because of the grand ornamented stone goblets that ran along the walls on either side of a wide aisle, making an elongated space where politics could merge or divide in its rift.

It was here all the meets with the kingdoms were held. In the middle was the round stone table, large enough and fit for Kings and just a moment ago it had been stuffed with every inch of the continent. The Ten Kings, or, rather our four border kingdoms that could come to us within a week, had gathered here in the tallest of castles, but to what end?

I wondered.

My eyes followed the walls. Paintings, taller than two able men on top of each other’s shoulders, were hung between the lit oil-chalices. King after King draped in deep rich velvets, queens and offspring, squeezed into gilded frames. More often than not, there were more than seven people stacked together in dim rooms and posing.

As I walked, their lifelike eyes followed me. Even my own green gaze, almost hidden behind the black sorrow veil that honored my late father, seemed eager to stalk me through the fabric on my stroll. It would stay like that for five years, covered with black silk to grieve The Great Fifth King. The Wall To The North. Praise in his name.

My face twitched, entirely involuntary, and I quickened my pace for the next two paintings until I got where I had wanted to go.

I stopped at the end of the aisle and came closer to the portrait, larger still than the rest and looking almost empty as there were only three people in the dim light of a dark background.

Kōrudo, The Cold. The Emperor.

Ohtani, The Sun Smile.

His lovely tragic wife that looked like she had never smiled in a hundred years, and now she never would. And then, there, holding her mother’s hand; their little daughter.

Empress Shiroin. The Pure One.

I almost laughed out loud at the nickname.

I had seen this portrait many a time of course. I had admired that oddity of the first girl to be born in the imperial line for a thousand years, but now that I had seen her in person, had had her presence just a breath away from mine, I never imagined an artist to be so wrong about a face.

The portrait looked like her, the likeness was there, no doubt, but he had caught her wrong. The artist’s hand must have begged him to dot those two fictive pearls of oil-white in her black gaze, add that tint of pink life on her cheeks and erase some of that hatred that blazed out of her face like the cutting rays of sun in my valley.

She had only been five when the painting had come into creation, so small a human, but in truth not looking like a human at all. Despite the artist’s efforts.

“Have you fallen in love?”

The quiet voice behind me, slightly distorted into more whispery voices speaking simultaneously, sent my heart racing and made me whip my head over my shoulder.

When I immediately spotted the menacing cloaked figure of Hinrich, standing in the middle of the Chalice Room, appeared out of thin air, my stomach did a small flip as unease hit it.

His cloak moved as if under water, wavering around his ankles and framing his pale face irregularly. Hinrich’s mass was see-through. An undead ghost. The Mask of Kaiserhof.

I sighed dramatically in a smile, suppressing the urge to flee, and turned back to the painting. My eyes once more seeking Shiroin’s pits.

“Yes always, and with everyone. It’s not a sporadic occurrence it’s a chronic condition. You should adapt my philosophies, Hinrich, then perhaps you wouldn’t look like a wraith who wants to crawl down a well and haunt it.”

Though I had my back to him, I could sense the Mask had glided closer while I talked. His presence had changed the temperature of the room.

“My philosophies are my own, they don’t need outside pollution. And wells are only haunted by dead whore-babes. Not men. I fish for them when my work demands bones and rotting flesh.” He said, quietly, the wisp of a voice far away and carried to my castle with death magic.

By the Gods he was a creepy sort of errand boy. We had been dealing with each other since the Empress had first vanished and I had almost gotten used to it by now, his unsettling being and ghoul magic, but admittedly not totally.

“Gone to the Gods through a wet hole.” I joked lightly, “what an enchanting way to depart this world. Out the way we came in, and frequently visits, no?”

He wasn’t actually a ghost of course. I would not have had the stomach to engage if he had been dead.

When I turned, his mouth was sour, disgust crinkling one side of his straight nose sitting on his translucent face.

“If you’re talking about sticking your cock in somewhere, it better be the Empress.” The light in the room did not fall on him, and he cast no shadow.

“Now now, Hinrich, manners. I am still a King after all.”

“Not my King.” He was a statue, staring at me and pissing me right in the face without a flinch. Then he added:

“Did she comply to the marriage?”

I threw my head back in a loud laugh. The Chalice Room made it sound like a roar.

“Comply?! Good Sir, Have you met her?”

Hinrich’s expression told me that he hadn’t and that he had no interest of ever doing so. All he wanted was his master’s orders carried out. He was an unsettling figure, but a good lapdog, to the right lap.

“If you cannot deliver, we will recruit one of the others. Errin’s King is unwed too.”

“Are you threatening me with ‘The sickling from the swamps’? I have the wall, the army, the looks and I am what they call a ‘team player’. I’m a quality bargain.” I smiled wider and tilted my head, “Besides. If you just wanted an unwed King to lock down the Empress with a ring, or stick something still up her dress, why not use your own?”

I knew exactly why. I was dealing a friendly blow, aimed right up under Hinrich’s arm at the only spot I knew he was truly sore.

“Hm, why hasn’t Eckhart apparition joined us here at Tall Castle to seduce the Grand Empress?”

In a blink his ghost was nose to nose with me. Hinrich wasn’t actually dead. His young, able, body was alive and well in Kaiserhof, but his spirit, tainted and twisted as it were, was right here with me. And though he was not haunting me, the illusion of terror, in that moment, was rather convincing.

I gulped.

Hinrich could not touch me, I had tested that when I had thrown a book at him the first time he came to me, but he was freezing my blood.

“Never take my King’s name in your dirty mouth.” His warning was slow and hateful.

There was a long pause where I could only see his sunken in eyes and feel the ice.

I slowly wet my lips with the tip of my tongue. My bones were shaking.

“Are we about to share our first kiss?” I whispered.

Another pause slid by, in which Hinrich processed my third joke of the day. Then he drifted backwards. Not amused at all.

“Deria, the quick. You think you are so smart,” his gaze darkened “but you know nothing. Make her say yes. Force her to be your ring.” The word ‘ring’ was a quiet bark his mouth.

“Force her? And how would I do that. Let me tell you, she almost stabbed me twice already, I’m sure she’s eager to actually spear me through my throat the third time I give her an excuse.”

Heinrich didn’t hesitate.

“Use the war.”

My smile fell.

“… Retract my forces? Then the empire loses two thirds of the world army.”

The Mask didn’t blink and he didn’t answer.

“But… Then the war is not ours. The Elsalvians could win, we don’t know their numbers with utmost certainty. Hinrich, people would die -A lot of people, my people your people, everyone! And mine are the first to meet the doomsday fire on our doorstep.” I ran a hand through my curls. “It- it’s the thousand year war, by the Gods! I won’t risk all of humankind for a coup at puts me at the top. I am not starved for a power that comes at that price.”

“Do what you have to.”

“You’re not hearing me, I can’t agree-“ I started but Hinrich interrupted me.

“It’s a threat. The Grand Empress will have to take you as her ring, for the sake of the empire. She will fold. Use the war.” Hinrich drifted backwards, his cloak soaring and floating in water that wasn’t there.

“And if she says no? She’s not striking me as a humanitarian.” I bit. I was getting angry now.

“This will happen whether you want it to or not. You cannot stop it.” His strange hissing voice was fading, the winter cold was becoming more tolerable.

I gaped at him in disbelief before I found my reply.

“Maybe I can stop you. I could expose your little illegal spells to the worlds, the other kingdoms, and then you’d be burned before the rooster is crowing on the last day of this week.”

His face scrunched up as he snarled.

“Try, and you will know what true horror looks like.”

I opened my mouth but closed it again.

“That’s right. Do what you have to do. Or we will, King Deria.”

My name hung in the air for a moment and then the Mask was gone. Disappeared and dissolved like a drop of ink in the running river.

I stared at the spot Hinrich had just been. Contemplating how I was a mouse between two mountain lion. He had had a point. If I declined, they would stage their coup around me, shut me out and keep me in the dark while they worked their sorcery to manipulate the fate of the world.

My hands became fists of their own as I strode out of the Chalice Room.

“Fucking magic.”

-Ciao-

#writeblr #dark fantasy #wip #original writing #cawolters #riseoftheblooddawn #theliaralliance #ayearofauthor

31 notes · View notes

ifeveristoday · 4 years

Text

god what is your childhood trauma

I knew trusting Jordie was a good idea. While I still have timeline/minor pacing issues (Issue #9 has Joyce believing Buffy’s on an out of state field trip for a week - which means the issues are covering 1-2 days at a time?) It’s all very Jeremy Bearimy.

Issue 10 introduces Kendra, more background parents, more details about Rose (!!!!), Robin’s mission, and Giles continues to have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad attitude. Is this Toxic Masculinity or just the Hellmouth amplifying bullshit?

I will post my thoughts about the last issue of Angel eventually, because wow, the gay - but I will say it’s interesting how each line is dealing with the absence of its titular character. With Angel’s absence, the Fang Gang is concerned, but they’re handling it. Buffy’s absence in Sunnydale is having major repercussions however and while it was touched on in issue 9, issue 10 really emphasizes how she’s a necessary part of the Scoobies and how they’re floundering without her.

I could say it’s because Angel hasn’t built up a bond with his gang to the extent Buffy has, but also I think it’s just where the characters are in their lives - the Scoobies are sixteen, and it’s implied that Fred and Gunn are older young adults, with more independence and less family/school to concern themselves with.

The pressure to fit in, to be normal, to belong - it matches up neatly with Sunnydale coping with the aftermath of the Hellmouth opening. Robin, much like Willow in issue #9, is frustrated with keeping with the status quo and it's his POV this issue opens up with. He knows there’s bad shit going on, and that they should be focusing on surviving/fighting, not worrying about grades and chores like raking the leaves.

Except he doesn’t know exactly what he should be doing - and it doesn’t help that Kendra is counting on him to be her Watcher. She asks him when they’re going to be talking about hellfire and her training, and Robin tells her that they don’t do any of that, Buffy does. Except of course - she’s not there and Robin has to admit again that he doesn’t know.

For an informant to the Watcher’s Council, Robin knows less than was hinted at in previous issues, and it’s amusing that Kendra knows more about his background than he does hers. Which is a nice little inverse from the usual Watcher - Slayer relationship, isn’t it?

Kendra is apparently older than Robin, but it’s not stated by how much - she does have TV canon’s sense of tradition, but with less ‘the Watcher is always right and I am the Council’s tool,’ and more ‘we’re partners and I’m already fifty steps ahead of you, so catch up, you fool’ which is just refreshing from the start. “You’re the only resource I have in this town...it’s time you make yourself useful.”

BAMF energy.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about Cordelia, and her Jurassic park quoting excellence. I’m telling you, every character gets an issue or two (or three) to shine, and in this issue, the girls we haven’t seen as much of, really get their day.

The sequence of Cordelia walking to school is nifty for the sense of humor - Cordy has been the omniscient ‘Gossip Girl’ for the series and would naturally be the best at social media in 2019. Just as she’s documenting ‘life finds a way’ about the bird making a nest in the ruins of a tree, the audience spots what she doesn’t, the snake crawling up the other side of the tree, poised to strike.

And just as Cordy says, “Gives me hope!”

She gets lured into a trap.

The incel/sad lonely white boy in the basement stock character is not one I enjoy reading about because too many times his real-life counterparts murder a lot of people (often out of hatred of women) and I have no sympathy/interest for that.

He’s a pathetic figure but that makes it no less scary to see him throw Cordelia down a flight of stairs into his basement.

I think this being potentially excused away (thanks not vague enough official preview summaries!) as part of the Hellmouth is bringing out the worst in the dudes is weak because again, real-life losers like these characters do this without an evil mystical force being the reason all the time.

But something is clearly wrong with Giles, as he almost attacks Robin in the library, and Robin nearly attacks him back. The copious amount of sweating, the murder eyes - the verbal knives out. Giles was scary in issue 9, and he’s even more menacing in this confrontation. He’s abusing his authority as an adult and being incredibly dismissive of Robin, which is bad enough on a personal level, but as an educator - really bad.

Willow and Xander luckily come in to defuse the situation, but now Robin has a problem with them and how come he’s suddenly responsible for Sandy Noxon’s disappearance (oh yes they did and yes I saw what they were doing there).

It’s accusation town as Robin rips into Willow and Xander, but not before he tells Giles that he’s lost Buffy, they all have, and that he [Giles] is a failure. This conversation is another one of those where two characters are talking around each other - Giles is thinking Robin is being disrespectful, while Robin is pointedly calling out Giles for his failure as Buffy’s Watcher, and as an authority figure in general. Giles tells Robin he’ll do nothing, but Robin scoffs ‘Watch me.’

Old versus new, tradition battling discovery - it’s a pretty obvious parallel setting Giles up as the Old Guard and Robin forging his way with ‘his’ Slayer and their new mission.

Back to Robin tearing into Willow and Xander: their conversation in the hallway reminds me a lot of the fights that the Scoobies had in the show - while not as ugly as the DMP confrontation or that bullshit season 7 episode *cough*, it does some excellent character work in the dialogue: it reinforces the idea of Willow and Cordelia being friendly/nice to each other, Xander’s unwavering loyalty to Buffy - and getting annoyed with Robin on her behalf, and then Robin calling out Willow for ghosting Buffy (aha, so he did notice her even when he was ignoring her) in the previous issues. Robin goes a little Mr. Hyde then - accusing Willow and Xander of shifting the blame on others when Buffy isn’t around, which...kind of a stretch because how would he know? The Evil Flop Sweat is back, and he projects his frustration with Giles not helping him on them - yelling, ‘Instead of going to other people for help, why don’t you figure out things yourself, for once?’

and then ends on, “Buffy isn’t here, and we don’t know when she’s coming back...you should try to get real comfortable with that.”

The panel that follows after Robin’s outburst? A M A Z I N G.

David Lopez’s expressions for Willow and Xander is just...guys.

Xander continues to be the most emotionally well adjusted of the Scoobies (!!! The growth! We love to see it.) as Willow tells him she and Rose are broken up and for him to just leave it.

Which brings me to the unicorn I’ve been chasing since she debuted in the comic, SOME ACTUAL PERSONAL DETAILS ABOUT ROSE. I was frustrated with their breakup for a number of reasons - a) we know so little about Rose beyond the being Willow’s girlfriend, b) so much of their relationship was off-page, c) Willow was lying to her for a lot of the time, d) when they broke up, it lacked real emotional depth and I wasn’t that invested in the first place.

BUT NOW.

Rose has a tattoo! That says I TRUST YOU in FRENCH. A semi-absent father figure but one who is loving and supportive! What’s that? Two dads and a possible stepdad and Giles when he’s not being Evil Flop Sweat Man? That’s four canonical Father figures that aren’t evil or negligent. Points to House Bellaire!

And Rose being a kid that moves around a lot because her dad relocates for work, and Sunnydale being a ‘real’ home and staying for good because her mom made it happen. Then wanting Willow to meet her dad when he was in town - but now, of course, that’s not happening and guys. Character details have been provided.

I have a better idea of Rose now, and I like it. And I like that she’s kind and looks after her classmates.....

even bad news bear Luke. LUKE.

The sense of dread (and the colors! I love the work the Boom! colorists are doing for Buffy and Hellmouth) is excellent as she goes downstairs and discovers a bound and gagged Cordelia in the basement.

When Rose and Cordelia team up against Luke - it’s one of the best sequences in the issue. It shows that Cordy is unbelievably assured in every situation, no matter how dire it initially looks, and that Rose is really brave and resourceful (and deserves to be part of the Scooby Gang. Draw her on one of the covers, you cowards!)

It’s telling that Cordelia and Rose assume that it’s Buffy who saves them at the last minute - Cordelia because she associates Buffy with weird feats of strength and also just showing up at these moments, and Rose with hearsay - Buffy’s weird, but she gets results.

Kendra about to introduce herself and then Robin stealing her thunder and her reaction shot to said thievery?

I’m so glad she’s here. And that we’re going to get a girl gang in the next issue.

#buffy comics #boom! verse #boom! studios #kendra young #robin wood #cordelia chase #rose #xander harris #rupert gile #more to come

6 notes · View notes

flamebrain · 5 years

Text

DUMMY THICK WARS

so. i wrote this on the bastard empire google doc at 12 am. read at your own risk

MATT MURDOCK CLAPS HIS CHEECKS.

good morning matt calls foggy from across the office. matt we have a guest. damn matt your ass cheeks. they’re so loud

Soft, what yonder bitch speaks? Asks matt

oh who is it matt says. i am blind did you know that i cant see

oh shit really says foggy. well matty, he's dummy thick, just like you.

peter parker strolled into the office, his asscheeks clapping from miles away. the second he laid eyes on matt murdock, he got a Fucking Dummy Thick Boner. he'd only ever seen one man dummy thick like th

Peter swings his dick in a circle

he sported a chubby immediately. at before - but eddie brock was getting BIS cheecks clapoed by venom, so peter couldn't clap them anymore. matts however. matts stupid thick cheeks filtered in the wind. hello matt murdock. peter parker said. i came here to sue mister eddieghew brockolo for infringing on my du elektra is lesbianbtw mmy thick rights.

you can't do that says matt

why not says peter with a tilt of his head. because matt says, then you would have to sue me, as foggy tells me i'm stupidc thick as well.

fine then. says peter. i will not sue on one conditions. what's that says matt? you let me clap those cheeks myself peter smiles very very sexily. matt immediatley shits and comes in his pants, but he gets another erection because he's matt murdock and nothing can stop him.

ok peter parker. matt says. i will allow you to clap

these cheeks but once.

foggy starts to cry. matty, he sobs, i wanna clap those cheeks. maybe i'm not as dummy thick as you, but i'm fairly stupid thick, and you wouldn't even know you're thick if it wasn't for me.

suck my dick and balls matt says and locks foggy out of his office.

now it is just peter and matt.

peter reaches for matts suit tie but matt swats im away. NO he says. i am a FREAKING catholic. being gay is a sin, you have to say no homo before you touch me or you're going to hell.

that ass is going to send me to hell anyways says peter but he says no homo anyways. matt whispers sensually in peters ear. i'm not gay...but i think those cheeks maybe are even bigger than mine. no homo.

they both then fuck for 7 days straight. foggy sits outside their office window and cries and eats spaghetti (formaggio!) from a red plastic cup. the office was out of plates. i'm so sorry foggy.

the eight day, foggy is passed out, and there's a knock on the door. matt stands up from his nonstop cheek clapping activities and opens it. it's kirsten!!! but she's- shes - shes DUMMY THICK AS WELL??? hello boys she says. you're looking rather flat. maybaps i can help with that. she pulls out two strapons and proceeds to peg matt and peter into tomorrow simultaneously. she is thicker than the both of them combined. karen page walks by and is immediatley disintegrated by their raw dummy thick power. foggy sobs over her ashes into his spaghetti. after two more days of fucking-kirsten passes out and dies in the process-, there is a tap on matts shoulder. aaaaaa he screams. then he hears it: a gunshot. peter screams. oh nooooooooo matt says, but it's too late. oh yesssssss frank castle says? standing above matt. he's ALSO dummy thick. i'm sorry red, but i had to do it to em. i had to kill him. Im the only one who's allowed to get that dummy thick ass. IM the only one allowed to be on your level of dummy thick here. fuck uou frank says matt. you can't kill people that's illegal. i just did. says frank. shit. you're right says matt. please let me eat your gun. not in a sexual way i just have been fucking peter for nine straight days and i haven't eatery: oh don't worry says frank. i have a better meal you can eat. what is it asks matt. frank grins like a sexey man. my ass. matt proceeds to bite franks ass. what the fuck red he yells. i told you i was hungry frank. frank slaps matt. you bitche. how could you do this. look at you. you're one bad day away from being me. he growls. matt is very angry. i'm angry! he yells, and pushes frank out a window. he stands there panting. he can smell the splattered corpse of dummy thick frank castle from below his office window. i didn't kill him matt says aloud. it was god. god made him die when he hit tjat pavement.

that is a lie and you know it mister daredevil says another voice. matt throws up. he knows that voice. it is mister wilson fisk the kingpin. mattt knows without turning around that he is the most dummy thick of all. he is larger than four matts, and eight times as STUPID fat. mr fisk he growls. mr murdock fisk responds. i will have to put you in jail for this. i cant go to jail i'm a lawyer says matt. not that kind of jail...dumb thick jail for gay idiot babies like you. fisk says. it is menacing because fisk is menacing. no please mr fisk matt says but it is too late. fisk has ejected him from his office. he writes something on the door. foggy calls out weakly from his spaghetti bed. matty it says fisk offices: the dummy thickest he says. matt begins to cry. fisk is now the holder of the ‘dummy thickest’ title. what can matt do. what can he do. he hears a laugh from behind. well well well the shittiest voice ever says. if it isn't flat matt murdock. fuck you pointdexter, cries matt through his crying. bullseye laughs. matt dear, he says, i want to make a deal. can't you see i'm sad and depressed pointdexter matt says. i don't give a shit says ben. also i'll spit on you if you work with me. matt has dreams about that. he smiles reluctantly. what do you want bullseye. i want to kill the man with the title of dummy thickest… because i want the title for MYSELF. before it was you, but now…defeated you are just flatt matt. fisk is now the man i must get through before i can reclaim this title. there's only one way to stop him: together. matt grimaces. i hate working with fake thickies like you he groans. but i will do what i must.

bullseye spits on matt for a half hour while they make a plan. foggy tells matt he's a stupid bitch, and matt agrees. they're just going to storm the office, take fisk by surprise, and kill him. matt hates to kill, but sometimes? well, the title of dummy thickest is more heavenly than God Himself. surely the big man would understand a little under to achieve this holy status. the title would give him the power, if wielded right, to defeat the Lord in hand to hand combat anyways. the clapping of matt's dummy thick asscheecks would defeat the lord, and then once the final clap rung out, he would be smothered-suffocated in the dummy thick sea.

the two of them let out a stupid loud yell, and broke matt's office door. uh oh fisk said and that was all he had time to say before bullseye and matt were upon him, tearing into his dummy thick flesh like rabid goblins. nooooo he cried. my fat! my dummy thick fat! it's not yours anymore. matt said solemnly. fisk cried a little bit and said he missed vanessa. matt did not care. there was no mercy left for him. there was only desire...desire to be the dummy thickest. when fisk was simply a skeleton, bullseye tossed him out the window. HAHA he laughed. you fool. now the spot of dummy thickest is OPEN! by the powers that be, i clap me che- matt pulled out a gun. sorry bullseye. i guess it's time to bull-DIE he said. he pulled the trigger. matt,,,why would you do this, foggy cried. his hair was covered in tomoato sauce. matt gave bullseye the finger as he bled out in front of him. i didn't do this for me. he said softly. i did this for US. i'm the dummy thickest now…. and you are my second in command which means you are the second thickest of them all. foggy ran over to matt, ass clapping all the way, and then they made out:

the end

IM DONE COWARDS

I am… como se dice…. dyin

#daredevil #bastard empire #im sorry to my mom and also god

34 notes · View notes

homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Sara!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character, CONFIDENCE “CONNOR” BROWN! This application was an absolute delight to read! I loved how developed you’ve made Connor and I feel like he’ll have a lot of really fun things to bring to the table. I am really excited to have an Order member who is sort of is he part of us, but yeah he’s really part of us. I am so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Sara

AGE: fourscore and seven years ago…

TIMEZONE: est

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m around every day and will try to post most days

ANYTHING ELSE: Nothing in particular, I can take care of my own squicks.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Confidence Brown (he goes by Connor)

AGE: 26

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Connor is certain he’s heard of this thing called gender, he even plays her every so often but… owning it? Having one? Oh, sorry, no. He hasn’t owned one since he was in fifth year and he realized he really didn’t have to. That did not go over well with his parents who had joined, and remain, part of a severe religious community. The whole witch thing also didn’t go over well but they made peace until makeup started coming out. Sexuality is much the same. Connor uses he/him pronouns and relishes the comparative freedom of the magical community verses the muggle in this regard.

BLOOD STATUS: Muggleborn

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin–what’s that? All Slytherin’s are blood purist arseholes? Connor might not have had the easiest path at Hogwarts or elsewhere but that’s not to say he didn’t make friends (or gather the right blackmail to smooth the way) and insinuating that everyone is evil from his house would earn a laugh or a hex and maybe both.

ANY CHANGES:

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are two certain things about Connor Brown: he’s going to survive and he’s going to be fabulous while doing it.

Sure his mother named him Confidence well before he showed any of that but he certainly grew into the name. How could he not with the looks kids gave him on the playground? And then when he first tumbled off the Hogwarts Express and into Slytherin. That’s not to say Connor deserves pity–oh no. He’s taken everything he’s gotten and cheerfully made it into something he can not only enjoy but thrive in.

Slytherin became a (sometimes dangerous) playground of learning who to befriend and who to blackmail (and Connor, true to the house he had been sent to, was always good at that). When he was asked to leave his parent’s house, he found another–a better one.

His ego led him to believe that he would have to gift the wizarding world with Camp but one accidental step down the wrong alley and into Ganymede Gentleman’s Club (it can’t be that, can it?) showed him that the wizarding world has known what Camp is for generations.

The problem is much of Connor is bravado and showmanship. Sure he is quite talented in disguising spells, and he’s always had a deft hand at arranging muggle or magical transportation! But every dance has to come to an end some time or else a guy or gal will twist their ankle and make it end. Connor has learned never to lean too hard on anyone and that self-protection has carried him well, but it’s a two-sided blade that can easily lead to a sloppy mistake that could get him or someone in his care killed. That’s not even to speak of his pridefulness and penchant for eavesdropping… and possibly lacing a drink or two.

For recon purposes, of course, and only for the Order.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

His parents Mary and Jon Brown disowned him after catching him coming home from a party all dressed up at eighteen. Parties were bad enough, what he was dressed in was worse. He moved out that night.

Be-Joyful Brown: sister. it took a while but now they are back in contact and even meet up occasionally… in public. She is two years younger than him.

Lavender Brown: Joy’s young daughter. Connor calls her the Lavender Menace… Joy doesn’t understand given that Lavender is an infant and can’t menace anything.

OCCUPATION:

Connor happened upon the Ganymede Gentleman’s Club shortly after being jumped by muggles outside of a muggle gay club. He crashed there for three nights before the owner took pity on him and gave him a job and a closet of a flat at the top of the town-home-turned revelry and tryst site.

Jobs Connor has had at the oldest Gentleman’s Club near Diagon Alley:

Waiter—more flirt then helpful

Doorman— less bouncer, more greeter looking for codewords

Bartender—more eye candy then proficiency

Entertainment—a continuous portion of Connor’s club life, although he has moved on from it for a full time gig

Host—a sort of lower level manager who tries to de-escalate while being a flirt

Manager of the House—arguably the highest job without owning the establishment

It’s important to note that this Magical Molly Club has functioned not just as a place for gentlemen (and women) of a certain disposition to meet, put on ridiculous shows, dance and play cards–but for married pureblooded people to meet up with their lovers. There's history here–but all of it laced with someone going shhh! And that is just the type of environment Connor needs when someone sends him a message asking for him to get some poor wix out of trouble in London and out to the McKinnon farm.

The actual space is just off Diagon Alley and is more a charmed and modified townhome than anything. The important thing is that it doesn’t look like anything and there’s even a keyword to get in. Inside there is a bar, a very small stage, and a lot of small tables that can be removed to create a dance floor. There are then a maze of rooms–because what better way to keep out unwanted guests and raids then magic helping scramble who might be where?

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

It’s all fun and games until people start dying. Connor comes from a very religious family and was a muggleborn in Slytherin: he knows what like to be hated on sight for something he can’t control. He also knows what he has in him to provide (housing, transportation, gossip) and he knows what he can’t (good support in a complicated duel or medical). Also, at the very end of it: Connor wants to help but he does not want to die. That doesn’t mean he’ll squeal, but it does mean he likely has a ticket for himself squared away if there should ever be a need. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst—and that’s his feelings about the Order in a nutshell. Connor has not survived this long by pinning his cloak to fantasy.

More clearly: Connor is a low-level member of the Order. He has no interest in climbing the ladder, little interest in skirmishes. He attends a bare minimum of meetings and functions as a sort of middle-stop for those who need to escape to the McKinnon farm. He puts people up in one of the ‘for rent’ rooms at the club and then finds the best way to move them…and sometimes that’s with him and an airplane ticket. He’s not the most well known and he’s happy with that, too, because it means he might get out if everything goes tits up.

SURVIVAL:

Is Connor part of the Order? He hadn’t heard of that. Truthfully, Connon makes very certain not to carry any identification on him that would imply, however indirectly, that he was part of the Order of the Phoenix. The most he might do is flirt with one who came into Ganymede Gentleman’s Club –but he flirts with everyone, really, so is that such a surprise? It might be more of a surprise if he flirted with Rodolphus Lestrange—and he’s not going to confirm or deny that. It goes so far that he’s not above disguising himself before going to Marlene’s for a meeting. Sure Marlene knows who he is, and Caradoc–any older Order Member, really, but why advertise? Besides, he likes dressing up. He doesn’t hide to those he hides in the club on the way to the McKinnon’s, however, because he figures they’re already scared enough and trusting someone with a fake face on would be a little too much.

RELATIONSHIPS: variable depending on the characters in-game. I do have some ideas but I would need to talk to some players to confirm since a few are likely to be apped!

Caradoc —They met when Connor was a first year and in tears over something he is certain was utterly stupid. Truthfully Connor does not remember what it was and doesn’t really care. He does care about Caradoc, however, and the ways he’s changed from Hogwarts to now. He sometimes gets on Caradoc’s case about his missing smile and the way he responds to some jokes nowadays but there’s a clear limit on what he can say—after all, Connor has changed, too.

Younger Order Members—Connor both delights and hopes to avoid many of the younger order members. He’s a need-to-know sort of bloke and most of them, well, he’s not sure they do. Then again, there’s always a sort of delight in seeing the gears turn in someone’s face as they try to place him, place the Club, or any other number of things… and, okay, he wouldn’t mind seeing some of the dramatics he’s heard about the younger members doing… so long as it all turns out okay in the end.

Connor as a first year at Hogwarts was rather sensitive—that swiftly changed into the sometimes garish, often entertaining, presentation he still manages today. The problem is he’s grown less and less able to take it off or put it to the side as the daily prophet brings darker news. He’s still a good friend but friends have to learn not to guard so much and that, along with the general air of suspicion that permeates the entire community, have likely begun to curdle all but the strongest of bonds.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: Connor/Chemistry Connor/Ooops and Connor/One Night Stand Oh God No

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Connor would Iike to say his varied layers of what the hell bad times have predisposed him to being accepting of all…but the truth of the matter is Werewolves scare him. It’s not disgust. Its fear bred from, of all things, bad muggle horror movies. He was only six or seven, he snuck out of the movie he was supposed to see to see Curse of the Werewolf or something similar. So while he would swallow it and let someone in need in (what would he have done if someone hadn’t done the same to him?), there’s an honest fear response that comes from childhood. He’s also afraid of dogs, though, so he’d probably blame a whole canine sort of thing for his unease.

Connor is also a bit biased against Purebloods. Sure his friends are alright… but all that sneaking around because you’re married? It’s probably something bred from having a ultimately failed or doomed relationship with such a person but he has more then enough history to look at most Purebloods and go fuck you. This is also why he has such a cashe of secrets just-in-case.

Privilege wise: Connor has had the privilege to find safe places to land and make use of every not-so-great situation he’s found himself in. He has a solid job, he’s been able to make himself invaluable (although it’s unlikely the Pureblood who owns the Gentleman’s club would ever think about letting him own the space), and he is stable enough to help others. Thats pretty remarkable overall for a queer muggleborn born to working class parents.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I love a good AU, I love a game where you can create a little something more… and when the characters I considered got apps I tried to think: what could be useful here. I hope to muck around and make trouble for multiple characters…and introduce a little queer history into the backdrop.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): I don’t have any specific ideas right now but I imagine Ganymede Gentleman’s Club will be quite useful.

ANYTHING ELSE? N/A

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

This section is only if you are applying for a character that does not yet have a biography written (i.e. a character not listed on the character page). Essentially, any Marauders Era character can be applied for, so long as they can realistically fit into the plot and add substance to the roleplay! It may be a good idea to send a message to the main before you do this so we are all on the same page.

PAST: Connor’s parents joined a small offshoot of the Evangelical Alliance movement in the UK. Or, maybe, they were part of that community first and later it latched itself onto the Evangelical Alliance. Truthfully, Connor doesn’t remember which came first and it hardly seems important now. The important thing was, that it meant his childhood involved daily prayer, every-other-day church service, and the few children around all had names like Be-Faithful, Be-Joyful, and He-Provides. Confidence, by comparison, was a very reasonable name, although even before a witch showed up on their tiny flat’s doorstep his parents wished they had named him Humility instead. How he did not get stoned to death for being a wizard he will never know. He did start to suspect his parents had been bewitched when they couldn’t seem to look at his textbooks but not in a way that represented any sort of discomfort or pain. The second part of his childhood came with more than he could have ever imagined. The food was richer (and more plentiful, given that his mother worked only part-time in a shop and his dad worked as an assistant minister), the clothing more dramatic and in so many colors, and the magic. Slytherin was not the easiest house for a muggleborn but Connor rarely protested because there was always, always more and it was learn fast how to swim or drown.

PRESENT: It took a while. It took being sent from his parents’ home and not seeing his sister for a good three years—but Connor believes he has finally found his soft landing. Ganymede Gentleman’s Club is even more decadent than Hogwarts—and he gets to live there, and perform there, and talk to anyone who comes in the door (even if they don’t want to)! To make things better, Connor is able to get his well-powdered nose in the thick of gossip…and use his theatrics to help out others who might find their lives taking on too much water. He might not be able to do so indefinitely, the club only has a finite number of rooms ( he’s not a McKinnon!), but he can do something and he takes great pleasure in that. If that pleasure is partially in sticking his nose up at Pureblood politics, well…he’s allowed to have his heart in the right place and his unabashed glee right next to it.

FC CHOICES: Ezra Miller …and second option Keiynan Lonsdale

#homenumaccepted #marauders era #roleplay #literate rp #new rpg

1 note · View note

noxus-the-venomous-blog · 5 years

Text

Part 2.02 KICK THE WORLD FACE

"YOU MOCK MY LAIR?!" Noxus grabbed the man by the collar. "You dare come into my place of dwelling with lll words?!"

"We're really doing this?" Big problem asked with a sigh as he watched his smaller friend building up steam to torment the man in his clutches.

"I will reach inside of your meager brain."

"Yeah now I know we're definitely doing this." BP sat down, awaiting a long monologue.

"And when I'm finish twisting and turning every spark in your meager mentality…"

"Oh come on this is often the funnest part of the day!" Tranquill said to big problem, poking him in his gorilla like shoulders.

"...and when all that's left of your brain is the shallow pleadings of a child's mind you will kiss my boot and beg for me to end your life."

"Dude I'm not even the one who gets to keep the rent money I just collect it. The management decides the when the inspection happens! They only pay me like 50 bucks a month," the young man grumbled, held tight in the rubber fists of Noxious.

“Is it worth your life?” “Fine dude we can do the inspection next week. You need to be on medication bruv,” he remarked as noxious loosened his grip on him.

“The whole world needs to be on medication…” Noxious said slowly as the man walked away. He then turned around to face his audience who was already snickering at him “That was Jeff, the supers assistant. Good kid. So let's get down to business”

“To COMPLETE! The PUN!” Tranquill shouted, smiling widely. Her joke found no success however, in a crowd where one was too old for reference and the other was too uncultured.

“Is this really the place to talk… Private? Like that dude weird girl across the road has been sitting there filming you for the past twenty minutes.” BP pointed across to the set of parallel storage containers on the other side of the lot.

“That's um…. That's my PR TEAM! FOR FILMING PROPAGANDA!”

“YO BIG GUY TAKE OFF YO PANTS!” the woman yelled.

Big Problem shot her a puzzled look. “Lets go to my place Nox. This place smells like raccoons and sadness.”

“You have a place?” Tranquill asked as she grabbed her coat.

“Yeah of course. Do you guys think i only exist in the world to help ya then when i'm done i teleport to another dimension and sit around waiting for you to need help again??” “That would be very useful” Noxious replied.

“SHAZAM!” Tranquill added.

“Well that's not my power. Although i met a guy like that, nice dude, gay as a rainbow on a unicorns butt, now can we go to my place?”

“That's homophobic” Tranquill accused.

“Im quoting the guy, besides i'm a villain, social standards are the laws i’m LEAST worried about breaking.”

“We shall ride to your lair and resume our business there,” decided Noxious, “Um…. we need a ride though.”

“Heh… I'll bring the truck around but you’re going to be a little cramped.”

The truck putted down an empty highway, bellowing black smoke out from its aged, rusted exhaust. It slipped and stumbled in momentum each time Big Problem had to jam the clutch down and shift. The old metal shifter smacking into Noxious’ leg every time the lowest or highest gear was used. Tranquil, leaned in on Noxious’ shoulders affectionately, squishing him closer to BP who already took up most of the truck.

“Ok so we can start talking now. I need to know how seriously you two take this. How focused are you?”

“I take it very seriously,” Tranquill said.

“Well now you do,” Noxious contradicted.

“Well ok sure for the first few months i was pretty sure we were larping but im totally caught up now. I share his passions for this world and this work. I agree with every word of his personal diary.”

BP raised an eyebrow. “You guys share your diaries?”

“Define shaRE-” Noxious was cut off as first gear needed to be used again.

“What you two need is money.”

“We’re not greedy though,” Tranquil rolled down the window slightly, noticing her boyfriend sweating a bit due to his awkward seat status.

“OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT! You’re poor. Greed is a rich man's game. Look you don't have to have a mansion in the hills, but no one accomplishes change in the world without money. I know a guy who works for a place. That's not me being coy that's literally how you refer to his business. Anyway, he can really make the difference for you guys. How do you currently wash your money?”

Noxious spoke up before Tranquill could make a joke, “we basically don't. But we don’t make enough to require it. We have been seeking out some form of fence for jewelry or other valuable things that are easy to sell.”

“That’s adorable. Yeah just sign up at the evil guildhall and they introduce you to ye olde jewelry fence. Look little guy...”

“I AM AVERAGE SIZE!!!”

“That's why you’re sitting in the middle then?” BP says as he rams the shifter into Nox’s leg and slows at a stop sign “Anyway, hear me out. You don't just run around town looking for random junk worth money, you’re a villain not a crackhead. You need to talk to the right people, the ones i'm going to introduce you to, and find out what they would want. Sometimes it’s an object, sometimes it’s a service. Sometimes it might be something right up your alley like gassing someone or making menacing threats.”

Tranquill chimed in, “this is what we need, he makes so many menacing threats for free currently.”

“Exactly. Now if ya find a bar of gold on the ground, or happen upon a car made of diamonds, then sure you bet your ass you take it and just give it to the guy and he’ll give you credit. But nothing compares to what you can make by finding them just what they need at a given time… Ok we’re here.”

The truck pulls up to an old iron security gate. Before them is a long driveway, weaving through clusters of lavish landscaping. He presses a button on the worn out sun visor then shuts it as the fabric nearly tears. The gate in front of them opens and he begins driving through.

“Wait… When… What…” Noxious stuttered, “ARE WE ROBBING SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?!”

“Yeah cause if we were, im wanting you to just scream about it,“ BP joked, “no this is my house, and it's nice to know you seeing it makes you want to rob it. Guess i'm doing a good job with it. Were gonna pull around back, wait, how the hell would i have a gate opener for a place i'm robbing?”

“I don't know…. Stole it ahead of time? Hacked it?” noxious knew he was digging his own grave deeper.

They pulled around to the back of the quite sizable home and into a ramp leading to a parking garage, one story below ground. This presented a stark contrast to the lush gardens they had recently passed. This basement was empty and plain, with a sofa on one wall crowded around a large tv, and a bed across the way on the adjacent wall. BP slowly pulled into a parking spot next to a luxurious looking car.

“See look at this place we have WAY more privacy to talk here. The whole place is sound proof. I'll have Alfred order a pizza and we can start talking about real business.”

“No you have to explain first,” Noxious insisted.

“Explain what?”

“EVERYTHING!”

BP leaned back on the broken tailgate of the truck “Uhhh… So in the beginning there was nothing, then BAM than mars and stars and cows and shit.”

“How about first WHO’S ALFRED?”

“The butler.”

“You have a butler named Alfred?” Tranquill giggled.

“Yeah i thought it would be funny.”

“What would be?” Noxious asked, getting dizzy at all he's had to take in.

“To name my butler Alfred.”

“WAIT YOU NAMED A BUTLER?” Tranquill protested in sheer confusion.

“You guys have a hard time staying on topic.” BP guided them over to the rather homely couch and they each took a seat. “So missy. I'm gonna ask you again. How serious are you about being a criminal.”

The tone of the room became more serious all of a sudden.

“I would follow him wherever he goes. Seriously. Even into the bathroom.”

“She’s like a cat,” added Noxious.

BP interrupted them. “You need to quit your job.”

Tranq looked at the ground for a moment. “But… My debts. I worked hard to get a job in my field.”

“And you'll never be worse off for it, you'll take those skills with you into whatever you do but do you really wanna be working an office job when the cops show up? You guys have to start living this, it ain't the kinda lifestyle someone does on the weekends. You gotta be done with the nine to five, done with the rented storage shack and done with the BS small time jobs. I want you guys to move your lair in here, i want you guys to start taking jobs with me and get yourselves a proper home. I want you guys to win on this and i'll help but if it's not what you want, what you truly desire, then you gotta walk away before someone gets hurt.”

“This is…. A lot.”

Noxious stepped forward. “My burden of fixing this world is not something i want dragged into.”

BP stood up to outmatch noxious in height if not determination. “You’re not going to get what you want without help.”

A moment went by. The two of them stood in a quiet stillness like an old western movie. The energy seemed aggressive but it felt more compassionate than that. Noxious knew that in this moment BP was not questioning his motive, but instead he's being forced to question it himself.

“I want to quit my job,” Tranquil broke the silence, “I want out of that stupid storage container. I want the neighbor girl to stop whistling when i wash the van. I WANT TO GET RID OF THE VAN! I HATE THE STUPID VAN!”

“I HATE THE VAN TOO!” Noxious matched her energy “I HATE THE STUPID SHIFTER KNOB! It has no button and my thumb sits on the side of it funny.”

“I hate my job. I hate my debt. “

“Even if the button didn't function, it should still be there.”

“I hate all of my co workers. All of them. There's not one redeemable thought made in that building all day. I hate work i hate school and i hate everyone. That’s why i'm here. I want to wreck this world not just live in it.”

“THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT! LET'S KICK THE WORLD IN THE FACE!” BP grabbed a beer.

Noxious moved his hand in a ‘kinda’ gesture. “I'm more on the fixing it side… With gas.”

“YEAH let's tear down society!!!” Tranquill exclaimed.

“I'm like… Chaotic good if anything.”

“LET'S KICK LIFE IN THE BABY MAKER AND MAKE OUR OWN WAY!!!”

Noxious looked at both of them. “Screw it, burn the world down” he said as he reached down for a beer for him and Tranquill. They all clanked cans, BP and Tranq opened and chugged their beers. Noxious paused for a moment, then opened his beer, pulled up his mask and met their pace.

-----------------------supersecretspecialdeletedpatreonexclusivelike&subscribeOVENDING

“He was choking me man. He threatened me!”

“Who?”

“The little gas mask guy. The one from space 25.”

“Oh him. Leave em alone he just talks that way.”

“BUT HE THREATENED TO GAS ME!!”

“Out of everyone in this whole park he's the only one who visits my mom. No clue how they met but she loves the little guy. He's got a big heart. Since he's been around her depression is unnoticeable. She's baking more, laughing more. Seeing her happy and tasting her food again has lifted my spirits too. Leave him be, he makes people happy.”

#original content #original character #original fiction #original story #Noxus

7 notes · View notes

gloomy-goober · 6 years

Text

Make Believe (Part 6)

@but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @vergeangst @louvrejpeg @here-to-vent @justanotherpurplebutterfly @holdnarrytight @fangirl4ever07 @twinkly-lights@fandomsandanythingelse @that-space-gay-writes @abstractedthinking @fandomsofrandom @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

A ROMAN’S KINGDOM SPECIAL! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6! Buy me a Ko-Fi? Ao3 Link

The rain came down upon the heroes in sheets and soaked into their clothing. Their eyes could barely see through the darkness; only the brief flashes from the lightening gave them any sense of direction. The looming form of the gates glared down at them as they drew closer and increased the sense of dread that boiled in their guts.

Darling slowed to a stop in front of the gates and allowed her rider to gaze up at the old manor.

Roman had not been to Chicanery Manor since he was young, but it was evident that time had taken its toll. The rain blocked the view of the home that should be situation on the hill behind the gates; more of a castle if Creativity recalled correctly.

Vines had grown over the rusted iron gates and made them easier to slip through; evident by the gap created from missing bars. Intruders probably paid no mind to the glares of the statues that were situated on either side: two giant, stone snakes.

These very snakes are what glared down at Roman now.

Their eye sockets were empty of the amber stone that he remembered being there, but it seemed to make them more menacing. The viper on the left’s fangs had broken off in time and the serpent seemed to have an abandoned bird’s nest in it’s coiled body.

“Creepy.”

The prince did not have to turn his head to know Patton had just said those words.

“Indeed,” Roman answered. “Very creepy.”

The three of them sat there on their horses and just looked up at the ruined gate. They had no idea what they would find inside the manor. There was no way they could prepare but if it would get Anxiety back they had to push on.

“We are going to have to continue this journey on foot,” Logan stated the obvious. There was no way the horses would be able to get through the gap in the gates.

“Right,” Roman breathed the word and slipped from his horse. Darling’s white coat was matted down by the rain and her hooves covered in mud. The prince patted her affectionately to calm her nerves and glanced around the best he could in the pouring rain. “We should find a place where they can stay out of the storm.”

Logan appeared by his side, his eyesight impaired even further with the amount of water that was on his glasses. “Where would that be? There doesn’t seem to be any shelter.”

“There should be an old shed around here somewhere,” Creativity squinted through the rain, “The gardener used to keep his things out here.”

The side did not give either of them a chance on how he knew of this shed. He merely glared through the rain and started to move along the fence slowly with the expectation that the other two would follow.

“Blast this rain,” the royal muttered under his breath. The thick sheets of water had slowed only a margin as they had started to walk. As much as the creative side tried, he could not make the rain slow down any more then that even though he should have that ability.

This story was truly going off the rails if he could not control something as simple as weather.

The party of three moved along the edge of the fence through the storm in search for the shed that Roman hoped would still be standing; one good thing could happen to him.

The blistering storm continued to rage despite the handsome prince’s best spells. His faithful companions were loyally following him through it, like they should. As they led their horses towards the promised shelter the royal could only think of one thing. Why would someone take such a villain? Could this just be his master plot all alon-!

Roman walked right into the very structure he had been searching for. The unexpected structure made the prince stumble back into Darling’s chest. His nose burned from the unexpected hit and his vision was covered in stars. The only good thing that came from this blunder was Patton’s laugh before he moved to check to see if Roman was alright.

“I’m fine, Patton,” Roman waved the concerned man away, “Just did not see the structure in this rain.”

“More like you were lost in your head again,” Logan added as he moved towards the shed.

Roman resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the logical side and settled to fix his soaked jacket. He pushed his way back to the front of their party to observe the shed.

The old stone walls were sturdy, and the door had been weakened by rot. A simple push and it gave way to let them peer into the room. The only note of worry was the leak in the roof; if the horses were kept away from it they would be safe from the storm. The shed was just big enough for the two animals.

“It is safe,” the prince called back to the two as he led Darling inside. She seemed relieved to be out of the rain that had matted down her shining coat.

With Darling and Patton’s secured in the shed, the three departed out into the storm once more. The journey back to the main gate was just like their journey to the shed: slow and quiet.

None of them said a word as they followed the fence back to the pried open gate. The prince helping his companions through the opening before he got through himself. The stone’s snakes’ empty gazes seemed to pierce into their backs as they moved up the old gravel path towards the manor.

Lightning flashed right over the roof of the place as they neared the door and it seemed to mimic a Scooby-Doo cartoon. The resulting thunder just made the adventurers move faster to the covered front porch, so they would be safe from the falling water.

“It should not be possible for this much rain to come down in such a short amount of time,” Logan grumbled under his breath.

The logical side was completely drenched, and the edge of his robes were covered in mug and grass. He had given up his fruitless venture to clear his glasses of the water as his soaked clothes only smeared the water.

“Well, this isn’t exactly a normal world, Lo,” Patton pointed out.

Roman swiped his soaked hair out of his eyes and moved towards the front door. The last remaining, amber eye of the doorknocker glared down at the prince as he rested his ear on the wood. All he could hear on the other side was the distant sound of water dripping onto a stone floor.

No sign of life. Not even the scurrying feet of a rat. Just silence broken by the steady drip of water.

“I do not think anyone saw us coming,” Roman whispered, “But we should be quiet just in case. They could merely be hiding.”

Roman drew away from the door and faced his companions. Both Patton and Logan had uncertain expressions on their face. The prince stood up straighter to try and have one of them be more confident about this mission; his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Roman, what exactly are we going to face in here?” Patton asked.

“Honestly, Padre,” Roman looked back at the door and grabbed the handle, “I have no idea.”

With that he pulled the door open. It was surprisingly easy to do; no squeak of protest from the joints or the wood. The royal backed up and drew his sword in preparation for an attack, but none came.

All that stood in front of them was a dark entrance way that lacked the warmth it might have once had.

“Alright, follow me and stay close,” Roman instructed before he slowly moved into the building.

As his foot passed through the entrance way he felt a blast of cold air hit him. The outside rain only strengthened how dreary and freezing this place was. Where torches should have been lit, there were only stubs of wood. A broken chandelier was in the middle of the floor; the jewels that had hung on it gone.

Roman’s eyes did a quick sweep of the hall before he slowly let his defensive posture relax. He was still ready to attack but it was clear this area was clear of enemies.

“Whoa,” Patton stood next to the prince and looked around in awe. His eyes darting from the high ceilings to the grand staircase. “Is this what our castle looks like?”

“No. Yes. Maybe,” Roman waved off the question, “That is not what we need to focus on, Morality. One of these doors should lead us down.”

“Down?” Logan looked away from the medallion that was laid in the middle of the stone floor to send Roman a questioning glance.

“Yes, down.” The creative side rolled his eyes, “Everyone knows the villains hide in the creepy basements and stuff.”

“In your world, maybe,” Logan grumbled. His next statement was said with the intention of being heard by everyone, “But why would we want to charge towards the enemy? We are not prepared to face an unknown threat and going downstairs seems like we would be limited on escape routes.”

“Because that is where the prisoners will be. Come on, Logic, think.” Roman started to walk towards the nearest door, “You do it all the time, start to apply it to this situation.”

“This situation is not set in reality, thus I am still adjusting.”

Roman did not grace biting comment with an answer. His mind had already moved back onto the mission at hand. It was either that or let the memories of this manor resurface and that was a road Creativity wanted to avoid.

This would be a quick in and out mission if all went well.

“Now, if I remember correctly,” he mumbled to himself and stopped in front of a door. “This one should be the door to the-.”

“Hey kiddos! I found the door with steps that go down!”

Roman’s hand froze as it was just about to touch a handle and he spun around fast.

Patton stood next to an open door with a bright grin on his face. The side seemed very pleased with himself as he bounced on his heels; the golden glow of a distant light showed the stone steps that lead downward.

“What?” Roman turned back to his own door and opened it quickly. He barely had a chance to scope out the room before he was buried under a pile of boxes.

“Roman!”

“Creativity.”

The sound of hurried footfalls drew close to the downed prince as the royal felt his face flush brightly. The pain in his side came back full force as the wooden crates turned to harmless cardboard boxes on top of him.

“At least I still have that much control” he thought to himself in annoyance.

“Oh my gosh, Roman! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he grumbled as he started to unbury himself. “I should have remembered that the doors change around in this place. Stupid trick makes this place a maze.”

“Have you been here before?” Logan inquired as he helped Roman to his feet.

“A long time ago,” The prince answered quickly. He focused his attention on brushing himself off.

“Are you sure you are okay? That was quiet the fall and after what happened yesterday,” Patton looked over Roman as if trying to find any sign of pain. “I don’t want you straining yourself.”

“Trust me, Pat, I am all good,” Roman tried his best to put a convincing, reassuring smile on his face. The last thing he needed was Patton to worry over his safety and wellbeing. “I just got turned around. We cannot let something like simple boxes holdup our rescue mission. Think of those poor people…and Anxiety too, I guess.”

Morality’s nose crinkled up to show he did not like the words that had been spoken but Roman could see he had won this battle. As much as Patton wished to make sure Roman was well, he also wanted to save Anxiety.

“Alright, but if you get hurt again I am going to make you rest.”

Roman nodded, “Deal. Come on, to your door.”

Roman pushed past the two sides and moved across the entrance way. He did not stop to make sure they were behind him as he descended the stairs. He ignored the pain in his side and put on a brave face. Now was not the time to fail.

The stone steps would have been hazardous to use had it not been for the torches that lit the way. Everyone that Roman passed lit up with a new flame; bright and shining. They cast shadows against the wall that seemed to dance to unheard music and only made the basement creepier.

The basement itself was more of a maze. Where the stairs ended had two branching stone paths that only gave away to more darkness.

“This place truly is a maze,” Logic stated. The logical side glanced down both paths to try and discern which would be correct. There was no clear clue.

“I told you,” Roman said, “and it only gets worse the farther in you go.”

“What kind of person lives in a place like this?” Patton asked.

“Well there are several options. I would say that from the name of this place it would be good to infer that the most likely suspect is-.”

“Quiet, nerd, we do not have time for your rambles,” Roman held up a hand to silence Logan. “Besides, I am pretty sure that was a rhetorical question.”

“You could have explained that to him in a nicer manner,” Patton mumbled before he put on a kind face once more, “Let us not fight, boys. If neither of you are going to choose a direction to walk in, I am going to go right.”

The moral side turned on his heel and proceeded to go left.

The two watched Patton walk for a second before Logan thought to speak up.

“Morality, that is the left path.”

Patton stopped and slowly turned back to the others. His eyes were on his hands for a second using the index finger and thumb trick to confirm what Logic had just stated. A bashful giggle left him as he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “Oops. Well, guess I am left with no other option then to accept that you are right, Logan~.”

Logan groaned and started down the right path, “In second thought, maybe you should continue down that way.”

“Oh, come on, Logan,” Patton ran to catch up with the other, “You would hate if I was left behind.”

Roman shook his head and trailed behind the two. He could not suppress the smile that forced its way onto his face. Despite this basement maze being terribly cold and dreary, they seemed to create a light that no conjured torch could ever cast.

“Do stop with these puns,” Logan sighed, “We are on a serious mission and we could be heard if you continue to make them.”

“I am just trying to lighten the mood,” Patton countered with a grin, “Don’t be such a party pooper, Logan.”

“I am being no such thing. I am just concerned on being heard. I am sure Creativity agrees,” Logan looked back at the fanciful side for assistance.

Normally, Roman would have encouraged Patton to continue to annoy Logan but the logical side brought him back to the reality of the situation at hand. It was not the time to be making jokes in the winding paths of this basement.

“Sadly, I have to agree with the Tech Support here. We must be cautious,” Roman moved past the two, so he was once again at the head of their party, “As a wise Auror once said, ‘Constant Vigilance’.”

“I still think Logan is being Moody.”

“That, I will not confirm or deny, but instead counter a point that isn’t he always Sirius?” Roman said with a wink in Patton’s direction.

“Is this another joke I am not understanding?”

Roman and Patton gave each other a look and fell into muffled giggles; no answer was given to Logan on why.

Their mirth only lasted till the end of their current passage and then the cold set back into their bones. The end of the path brought them to a cross roads; three different directions that could lead them deeper into the basement.

Roman only glanced down the dark passages before he motioned for them to continue forward. With every step a torch lit next to him and broke the darkness that wanted to engulf them. Every branch in the path they faced was met with a pause and then them taking the first direction someone chose.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed in the dark basement maze. It could have been hours, days or even just minutes.

“I am not sure we are going to find anyone down here, Ro,” Patton’s voice broke the silence. He barely raised it above a whisper, but it still made the prince jump.

The tip of the sword stopped inches before Morality’s face as the prince turned around.

“I…I almost took your face off,” Roman lowered the sword slowly, “You…don’t do that. We are in a tense situation.”

“Sorry,” Patton took a step back, “But I am just saying that we seem to be walking in circles.”

“Nonsense. I know where we are.”

“We have traveled through this crossroads about nine times,” Logan stated.

“How could you possible know that?”

“I marked the corner of the brick with some ink I found in my bag. I wanted to be sure we would be able to get back to the stairwell,” Logan pointed over to a corner stone. The grey had a distinct blue-black line across it.

Roman pushed past the logical side and glared at the brick. “How do you know it is the same one?”

“I was giving each brick a different symbol until we began to move in a circle,” Logan crossed his arms, “I was going to tell you when we circled around the first time, but Patton insisted it would be better if you figured it out yourself. I guess even he got tired for the constant circling.”

Roman turned his head to look at the bashful father figure, who refused to look directly at him. “Now let’s not point fingers, boys. We just need to think of a better plan then walking around this face till we are dizzy.”

“I suggest we head back upstairs and look for a blue print. This place must have them stashed away somewhere,” Logan suggested.

“Impossible,” Roman shook his head, “This place is made to constantly change and confuse. We should be lucky your markers have no disappeared yet.”

Roman moved over to a path that had no symbol drawn on a corner stone. He let his eyes look as far as they could into the darkness before he spun around to face his companions.

“We have no other option then to wander these dreaded halls until we either run into the fiend that took the noble townspeople of the village or we find the imprisoned people themselves.”

“Roman.”

Roman put up his hand and continued on, “If you do not believe this is the path to victory then by all means you are welcome to go back up to the foyer and wait. I do not want either of you in harm’s way but-.”

“Roman.”

“Know this, I cannot ensure you will be protected on your own up there. We have lives to save and standing around here to question if exploring every possible tunnel in these ruins is not how we speed up with quest. So, are you with me or not?”

Roman looked at the two sides that were in front of him. His passionate speech should have given them moral or at least the drive to continue forward but, instead, they were looking behind him.

“What?”

A hand landed on Roman’s shoulder in answer to his question. The regal bravery that the royal had put on his face turned to a scream of pure terror as he spun around to face the foe that had snuck up behind him.

A shallow face, dark eye shadow, and a cloak of black. There was an insufferable smirk on his face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Yeah, I guess we are with you on this,” Anxiety said coolly. “Sup Princey.”

Roman did not have a chance to process what he was seeing before a blur of grey and blue pushed past him.

“Anxiety!” Patton hugged the dark side tightly and pushed the younger’s head under his chin, “Oh I was so worried about you.”

Anxiety made a small sound of distress as he was moved quickly. Morality’s expression turned from joy to great concern as he looked over the other’s face. “Are you bruised? Hurt? Bleeding? Missing a limb?”

“Wha-, no? No, I’m fine. I’m fine, Pat, really,” Anxiety tried to push off the overly concerned man.

“Patton do not overwhelm him. This whole situation is probably distressing enough for him,” Logan said.

Roman’s sword was still raised in preparation for an attack. His eyes moving from the anxious trait to behind him. A group of people were standing in the shadows with wary looks upon their faces.

“How did you escape?” Roman looked back at Anxiety.

“Honestly, whatever took me is really bad at keeping someone locked up. I was not even caged,” Anxiety shook off Patton and stood up straight, “I found these people in another hallway. Seemed like they were camped out there.”

He motioned back to the villagers.

“Do you know who took you?” Logan asked.

Anxiety shook his head, “Nope.”

“It was a bird,” a small voice said.

“Janey, please, not this again,” a woman’s voice answered.

“It isn’t a lie. A big bird person comes an’ took us all,” A little girl pushed her way out of the crowd and moved to hold onto the back of Anxiety’s cloak. Her wide, brown eyes looked up at the other before they moved to Roman. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Roman frowned for a second and let the sword lower from its defensive position. “Well, it would add up to how your got out the second story window so easily.”

“She ain’t gonna like it if we leave. I thinks she needs us for somethin’.”

“Well whatever that something is doesn’t matter anymore, sweetie,” Patton had a gentle tone as he moved towards the girl. “We are going to get you all out of here.”

“But the bird-.”

Patton shook his head, “Who cares a big chicken? My buddy here can take them. He is a real prince after all.”

Janey looked up at Roman from where she hid behind Anxiety. “Really?”

Roman gave her a smile, “Really, princess. I will not let anything happen to you.”

The sweet moment was broken with Anxiety groaning in disgust at the display, “Yeah, great, can we get out of here now?”

“Kiddo…” Patton stood up and sent the youngest side a frown.

“What, I am just saying what we all are thinking? The sooner we are out of here the less likely this bird thing is going to find us again.”

“Anxiety is right. We should begin to follow my marks back to the stairwell,” Logan said, “Come. Follow me.”

“No, follow me,” Roman pushed ahead of the logical side just as the group moved into the center of the cross roads, “I will get us out of here without anything attacking us.”

“Hopefully it just attacks you,” Anxiety grumbled as he trailed behind the group.

Roman heard the words said by the darker trait but decided it best to ignore them for now. He had people to protect and dark tunnels to travel back through.

“You do not even know where the markers are,” Logan stated blandly.

“I am sure they will be easy to spot. We do not have time to argue over this, my logical friend.”

“And why is that?”

Roman stopped just as they got to the middle of the hall that should lead back to the stairwell.

“Because something else is coming.”

As these words left his mouth a screech echoed down the hallway. Roman barely had a chance to brace himself before something knocked him off his feet and onto the cold floor. Around him the people screamed and ducked down to avoid the wrath of this creature.

Sharp talons were inches from his face as they moved towards their real target.

“No, no, no, nonoNO!”

“Anxiety!” Patton’s voice echoed over the distressed voice of the younger side.

Roman pushed himself up to his feet with a grimace of pain.

“Logic get all these people outside!”

“But-.”

Roman turned and glared at the logical side, “Do it!”

He did not let Logic answer. His eyes were locked onto the beast that had knocked down the anxious trait.

The creature was large. It should not have fit into the tight passage under the ground. Its wings were a shade of black that almost seemed impossible. With a flip of a wing, it sent Morality back when the side tried to get to Anxiety.

Its head turned and Roman could not help but gasp in disgust. This creature seemed to humanlike yet monstrous.

“A harpy,” Roman was in awe and had to stop himself from fleeing with the others.

He squared his shoulders back and raised his sword. “Morality get out of here.”

“I am not leaving my son!”

“This is a rogue beast from mythology,” Roman moved towards the creature, “You are of no use here. Leave.”

Patton sent Roman a glare but started to move down the passage that Logan and the others had disappeared into.

“Beast, you are intruding on the grounds of a duke and have kidnapped the good people of this town. Surrender your captive and I will let you live.”

The harpy made a sound that seemed to be a mix of a laugh and a shriek.

“You do not know what you say, little prince,” it stated in a raspy voice, “You cannot defeat one blessed by the gods.”

Anxiety made a sound of pain as the creature moved to face Roman. One of its claws had dug into his side. It was hard to tell if it had just pieced the tunic or if it had broken flesh.

“Your gods have no power here,” Roman adjusted his grip on his sword, “These people have done nothing to be tortured and taken from their lives. I will give you one last chance; release Anxiety and you will be spared.”

The harpy gave her terrifying laugh again, “Oh little prince, you see the world in such black and white, that you cannot see the truth that is right under your nose. The monster is not always the thing you must be wary of.”

“Very well, you have chosen your fate.”

Roman charged towards the harpy with a battle cry. The steel of his sword just missing its feathered body. His aim was for it to release Anxiety, but the creature seemed steadfast on keeping the man in its grasp.

“Is that the best you can do, little prince?”

“I am just getting started,” Roman cracked his neck and swung again. The blade only caught the end of a feather.

Still the creature would not release its hold.

Anxiety winced as the beast shrieked and moved to smack the prince out of the way. Its giant wing knocked Creativity into the nearest wall. His grip on his sword weakened and he barely had time to raise it before the harpy came in for another attack.

The talons clashed against the blade. Roman used all his strength to keep them away from their mark. The harpy hissed and drew its foot back when the sharp end almost hit the delicate inside.

“You are blind, little prince, you do not see what I do.”

Roman blocked another swing and pushed off the wall.

“I see that you are attacking someone that is unarmed. I may not like him, but he is still a part of Thomas. I will not let you hurt and innocent.”

He ducked under the massive wing that tried to knock him back.

“It is my job to protect all,” Roman turned around and prepared a strike, “Now, release him.”

His blade hit the floor as the harpy moved back. Its foot was no longer wrapped around the from of Anxiety.

Before Roman’s very eyes it seemed to morph into a more female shape. The wings stayed but the face lost its feathers and beak. Her dark eyes looked him over with an expression that he could not identify.

“Very well, little prince,” she said calmly, “If you believe this is the right call I shall leave. This town obviously has no need for my work.”

Her talons clicked against the stones as she began to move back into the darkness.

“But know this, young one, you do not know everything that happens in this land. If you do not proceed with caution you might lose something you did not know was lost.”

With that she disappeared, and the sound of her feet could be heard no more.

Roman stood still with his sword raised in case the harpy decided to come back for another attack. His heart beat loudly in his ears and mixed with the worlds that the creature had left him with.

“What does that even mean?” He spoke the words allowed and expected no answer. Why can’t you mythical creatures speak plainly?”

At his feet, Anxiety groaned, and the prince left the question hang in the air. His footsteps were quick as he moved to the fallen form of his companion.

“There, there, fair one. The monster is no more,” Roman slid his sword back into the sheath before he glanced over the prone form of his friend to try and spot some injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“I feel like I was hit by a truck,” came the grumbled reply, “What was that?”

Roman moved to check Anxiety’s side to make sure the talon had not pierced into the anxious man’s torso. To his relief, it had only gone through the shirt.

“It was a harpy. A terrible creature that likes to take people. No one knows what happens after they taken the people, but we can only guess that they eat them,” Roman helped Anxiety sit up with a hand rested on the other’s back. “Can you stand?”

“Good, because I think we would both hate it if I had to carry you.”

Roman pushed himself to his feet completely. He held out a hand for Anxiety to take but the other refused. The prince bit back a comment of the other being ungrateful as he moved toward the path the others had disappeared down.

“This way,” he said, “Can’t have you running off again.”

“I was kidnapped.”

“Your fault for being by the window.”

Roman smirked at the angry noise that came from behind him. That was the last confirmation he needed to know that the other was fine.

2 notes · View notes

poorquentyn · 7 years

Note

Wait a sec so Whorsebane is suppose to be an intimidating character even for somebody like Roose,I feel like I missed this. Also he's gay I feel like I missed that also. Which if he is is kinda cool that he's this intimidating gay man from a house known to be imposing and intimidating.

*rubs hands together* Yes, please, let’s take a deep dive into the characterization of Hother “Whoresbane” Umber, the smartest and most dangerous member of his clan and one of my favorite background characters in all of ASOIAF.

Does “most dangerous Umber” seem like a stretch? Don’t get me wrong, I certainly wouldn’t want Crowfood or the Greatjon mad at me, but they’re presented as jovial life-of-the-party drunks as much as badasses. There’s a wry affectionate “oh, you scamps” sort of tone to how GRRM writes the Umber men…except Whoresbane, who is framed with an ice-cold laser-focused menace about him that his kin do not possess, despite Hother being the least physically imposing of the lot. Within the Northern political community, “Old Whoresbane” has a well-established reputation as perhaps the most fearsome figure within that community, a living legend spoken of in whispers (rather than the loud-and-proud stories surrounding big brother Mors), someone with whom you simply do not fuck if you care to see another spring:

A crow had once taken Mors for dead and pecked out his eye, so he wore a chunk of dragonglass in its stead. As Old Nan told the tale, he’d grabbed the crow in his fist and bitten its head off, so they named him Crowfood. She would never tell Bran why his gaunt brother Hother was called Whoresbane.

Odd as it might seem, old Hoarfrost Umber had once believed his youngest son had the makings of a maester. Mors loved to boast about the crow who took his eye, but Hother’s tale was only told in whispers…most like because the whore he’d disemboweled had been a man.

And now the Bastard of Bolton was riding south with Hother Umber to join them for an attack on Moat Cailin. “The Whoresbane his own self,” claimed a riverman who’d just brought a load of hides and timber down the White Knife, “with three hundred spearmen and a hundred archers. Some Hornwood men have joined them, and Cerwyns too.”

“Night work is not knight’s work,” Lady Dustin said. “And Lord Wyman is not the only man who lost kin at your Red Wedding, Frey. Do you imagine Whoresbane loves you any better? If you did not hold the Greatjon, he would pull out your entrails and make you eat them, as Lady Hornwood ate her fingers.”

“Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane…the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning.”

But, I hear you protest again: more menacing than Roose Bolton? Surely not! Well, look at how Roose himself describes Whoresbane. That ellipsis speaks volumes: Whoresbane Umber is so thoroughly intimidating that Roose gods-damned Bolton, the Leech Lord, Westeros’ answer to Vlad the Impaler, is reduced to trailing off and staring into the middle distance, ultimately unable to bring himself to cite specifics.

That’s the first layer. The second layer is the implication that Whoresbane has been the brains of Last Hearth for a very, very long time. He was only at the Citadel in the first place because his father Hoarfrost (which: yes) believed he had “the makings of a maester,” which certainly bucks the Umber stereotype. After Hother came home, his status as the smartest man in the room–a Halfmaester, if you will–has held as the decades have gone by. The Greatjon is certainly not an idiot (just look at how he tests and then crowns Robb), but his grab-with-both-hands approach to life carries with it some significant blind spots, and it’s Whoresbane who rides to Winterfell to point them out:

Hother wanted ships. “There’s wildlings stealing down from the north, more than I’ve ever seen before. They cross the Bay of Seals in little boats and wash up on our shores. The crows in Eastwatch are too few to stop them, and they go to ground quick as weasels. It’s longships we need, aye, and strong men to sail them. The Greatjon took too many. Half our harvest is gone to seed for want of arms to swing the scythes.”

Contrast Hother with Mors, and the picture becomes crystal clear. Crowfood, too, is far from stupid, but he comes to Winterfell to dance with the serving girls and offer his magical grief-curing cock to Lady Hornwood. Whoresbane is the one with the numbers in his head, the one keeping track of the harvest and the wildlings, the one looking out for the smallfolk of Last Hearth. Crowfood is doing everything he can to escape his brother’s household; Whoresbane is the one the Greatjon trusted to keep the lights on and bring concerns to the Stark in Winterfell.

And yes, as that anecdote about his time in Oldtown reveals, Whoresbane is gay. (Or possibly bi, but again, Crowfood is the one who asks for Lady Hornwood’s hand and macks on the serving girls, whereas Whoresbane shows interest in neither.) For me, this is part of an overall characterization in which Whoresbane defies the public image of his House and yet somehow also turns that image up to 11. Hother Umber is a gay man in a family of aggressively straight dudes, a “gaunt” and “cadaverous” man in a family of larger-than-life giants, an intellectual in a family of jocks, and is still the most metal of them all, and everyone knows it. How can you not love that?

What really cements Whoresbane as one of my favorites, though, are the hints about what the payoff for this characterization will look like. In ADWD, Whoresbane joins Team Bolton, taking half the remaining Umber men to the Dreadfort (and from there to Moat Cailin, Barrowton, and finally Winterfell) while leaving the rest with Crowfood. As Barbrey tells us, though, there’s no pretense that he’s actually loyal to Roose and Ramsay. Indeed, in Theon’s first ADWD chapter, we see that Whoresbane is wearing armor even to dinner, and can’t stop himself from expressing disgust at Ramsay’s treatment of Theon. And then, in Theon’s released TWOW chapter, we learn a very telling detail:

“Mors took the green boys and Hother took the greybeards.”

Whoresbane didn’t just randomly select half the remaining men at Last Hearth. He specifically brought his fellow greybeards with him. And what is it that old Northmen do when the food runs short as we know it is at Last Hearth (“half our harvest is gone to seed for want of arms to swing the scythes”), when winter is no longer coming, but here?

Alys sighed. “My father took so many of our men south with him that only the women and young boys were left to bring the harvest in. Them, and the men too old or crippled to go off to war. Crops withered in the fields or were pounded into the mud by autumn rains. And now the snows are come. This winter will be hard. Few of the old people will survive it, and many children will perish as well.”

It was a tale that any northmen knew well. “My father’s grandmother was a Flint of the mountains, on his mother’s side,” Jon told her. “The First Flints, they call themselves. They say the other Flints are the blood of younger sons, who had to leave the mountains to find food and land and wives. It has always been a harsh life up there. When the snows fall and food grows scarce, their young must travel to the winter town or take service at one castle or the other. The old men gather up what strength remains in them and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found come spring. More are never seen again.”

“Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue.”

So I think Whoresbane’s master plan (and given all of the the above, I’d say it’s very much his plan, and Crowfood is following his lead) is to lead the old men on a glorious kamikaze mission against the hated Boltons, while Crowfood preserves the next generation, who now may have enough to eat. Like his great-nephew Smalljon, he’ll go down a Stark man to the end, Umber on the inside where it counts.

#whoresbane umber #crowfood umber #roose bolton #twow spoilers #asoiaf meta

422 notes · View notes

jedifighterpilot2727 · 7 years

Text

Failing Physics

Just a heads up but I'm going to try and go through my prompts on here the next few days, and some of them will just be little short fics that don't get posted on AO3 so I’ll try and tag everything appropriately!

The story of how Lexi and Taylor meet - AKA the rom com beginning that no one asked for but I decided to write anyway.

Taylor is failing physics.

She’s not even exaggerating at this point, because it’s right there; written in red ink on her test paper.

Forty-six.

She didn’t even know test scores could go that low. Granted she’s also never taken college level physics, so that probably has something to do with it.

Once again, she curses herself for forgetting to sign up for the mandatory science class until the last possible minute; because of course the only option that fit in with the rest of her schedule had been physics. Of course.

Groaning, she watches the rest of the class file out, debating on whether or not she should cut her losses and drop out of school entirely or try and beg the professor for extra credit. She isn’t exactly sure what extra credit in a physics class would look like, but it couldn’t be THAT horrible?

Right?

She watches as Dr. McGregor packs up his bag at the front of the class, debating.

Just as she’s made the decision to throw herself at the mercy of the extra credit gods, she hears a voice.

“Dr. McGregor! Hi! Ummm, I just had one question about the test - “

A figure laden with books steps up to the desk, drawing Dr. McGregor’s attention to her outstretched test paper.

Lexi, Taylor thinks her name is.

That’s a lie.

She knows for sure that that’s what the girl’s name is, just as sure as she knows that Lexi is one of the reasons for Taylor failing her latest test.

It’s hard to pay attention when the prettiest girl she’s ever seen in her entire life is sitting just a few rows up.

Lexi, with her dark brown hair, and her bright blue eyes, that stupid sunny smile that absolutely no one should have during an 8am class. She watches as Lexi’s free hand pushes her glasses up her nose before gesticulating wildly at the paper in front of her.

Since she’s been spared from her begging for another few moments, she takes the opportunity to give her crush an appreciative once over. As flustered as the girl sounds, she LOOKS put together, from head to toe. The braid containing her hair looks nearly impossible to wrangle, and Taylor absently wonders just how long the other girl spends on her hair in the mornings. Her outfit just screams ‘money’, from the black designer button up and the brown Hermes belt and the black Givenchy pants . . .

Taylor doesn’t even want to think about how much her loafers cost. Two month’s rent, probably.

She has to hand it to the rich girl though, if she didn’t know fashion, she would never guess that any of it was designer. It was subtle, and Taylor likes that. Not enough to flaunt, but enough that it probably kept the other rich kids off her back.

Well other than the popped collar and the fact that she seems to be debating an answer to a physics test. That probably didn’t make them consider her less of a dork.

A cute dork though.

She considers for a moment that she doesn’t really know much about Lexi other than the fact that she wears designer clothes, sits at the front of the class everyday, and that she never speaks to anyone other than the professor.

Oh and that she’s insanely attractive, but Taylor would have to be blind to miss that.

She’s startled from her thoughts by Dr. McGregor’s voice.

“Now Lexi, I know that you’re only in this class because the Dean turned down your request to bypass it for the higher level course; and I’m also aware that he turned you down only out of spite because of his long standing feud with your mother, but that doesn’t change the fact that in this class we’re dealing strictly with Earth based physics. I understand that on Mars or even Vucarra that the principles determining the result of the test mentioned in question 7 would be vastly different, but this is about how the test would play out on Earth.” He chuckles. "Try to dial back your vast knowledge of extraplanetary physics for this class, please.”

“Sorry, it’s just- the different systems got mixed up in my head, I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t understand the concept.”

“Lexi, you missed half a point on the entire test, you’re in no danger of me doubting your ability to grasp the concept of entry level physics anytime soon.”

That seems to appease Lexi, because she tucks the test paper in one of the folders balanced on her arm.

“Thank you, sir.”

Taylor is standing before she even registers what she’s doing.

Only her feet don’t take her up to Dr. McGregor’s desk, instead they follow Lexi out into the quad.

She isn’t exactly sure which part of her brain decided this was a good idea, but she’s going to blame it on the gay part.

Sappho have mercy.

“Lexi?” She calls out, and the other girl stops and whirls so fast that her papers and books fly everywhere.

Great way to start a conversation, good job Taylor.

“Oh, Rao! Sorry! I hope I didn’t hit you! I just have a really exaggerated startle reflex sometimes.” Lexi blurts out as she scurries around, picking up papers from the grass; and Taylor drops to her knees to help.

“Completely my fault, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She passes Lexi a stack of papers, pretending not to notice the electric current that passes between them when their hands brush.

Lexi clears her throat, but makes no attempt to get up or pull away.

“Was there something you needed?”

Taylor doesn’t think she’s ever seen eyes that blue.

“Pardon?”

Lexi’s fingers brush nervously at her glasses.

“You called my name?” Her voice squeaks at the end and Taylor almost melts at the adorableness.

“Oh! Right, sorry. I just - well I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Dr. McGregor, and well, I need a tutor.”

“A tutor? For what?”

She might think that Lexi is simply being mean, but she doesn’t think there’s a way to fake the look of genuine confusion on her face.

“Intro to physics? The class we were just in?” Taylor jerks her thumb back towards the door.

“Oh! Of course! Yeah, no, duh, I mean obviously -“ Lexi shakes her head. “The science center has a really great tutoring program, or I think there are some private tutors posted on the bulletin board outside the lab.”

“Actually,” Taylor hesitates for half a second before taking the plunge. “I was hoping, maybe, you could tutor me?”

She isn’t sure how to read the hesitation on Lexi’s face, so she stutters forward.

“I mean you don’t have to, obviously, and I can’t pay you - because, well broke college student - but I work down at the corner coffee shop, and I can get you all the free coffee you can drink. Plus you’d have my undying gratitude for helping me not flunk out of college.”

A twinkle lights in Lexi’s eyes and one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arches upward.

“I am running a little low on undying gratitude.”

Taylor doesn’t let herself imagine that Lexi is flirting.

“Well, if you can help me pass physics then you will have mine, I have no idea how you even understand what he’s talking about half the time.”

“Oh!” Nervous Lexi appears to be back, tilting her glasses once again before reaching out a hand to pull Taylor to her feet. “My mom has been teaching me physics since I was like, five; so. . . . it’s just kind of . . . ingrained in there, I guess.”

“Five! You were five when you started learning this stuff?!”

“Well, Mama and I would always be worried when my Mom was . . . out on assignment, so we did science experiments. It sort of became our thing.”

“You have two moms?”

That must strike a nerve, because Lexi straightens to her full height, and even though she’s shorter than Taylor by a few inches she looks menacing.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no, of course not! Huge lesbian here.” Taylor points to herself, trying not to wince at her own sudden awkwardness. “Just wanted to clarify! It’s always nice to hear about other lesbians having families and succeeding - out there teaching their five year-olds physics!” Lexi seems to have relaxed, but she rambles on anyway. "What does your mom even do? That she knows so much about physics, and that she apparently has beef with the Dean of the science department at USC?”

“You don’t - you don’t know who I am?”

Of course she should have know that a person dressed like they belong in a fashion show for high end tomboy wear would have an ego.

“Should I?”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that; I wouldn’t expect you to know who I am, I was just trying to say . . . .” Lexi trails off with a sigh. “Most people form opinions about me based on my family before they even meet me, so it’s just surprising to hear someone say they don’t know who I am.”

Taylor feels herself relax. Maybe Lexi doesn’t have that much of an ego after all.

“Oh, well I can see how that might throw you off.”

“I wasn’t trying to be snobby or whatever, I just -“

“Lexi, it’s totally fine! I don’t think you’re being a snob! Hell, I don’t even think I’ve told you my name!”

“Taylor!” Lexi blurts. “Not that I’m creepy or stalky or anything, I just -“

Taylor saves her from whatever apology is about to come by extending her hand for a shake, warm and giddy off the fact that her crush knows her name.

"Taylor Mitchell, pleasure to meet you.”

Lexi’s handshake was firm.

“Lexington Luthor-Danvers, and the pleasure is all mine.”

Smooth. How could someone go from blubbering mess to suave in exactly 0.25 seconds? And -

"Wait. THE Luthor-Danvers? As in the Luthor-Danvers empire?”

“That’s the one.” As uncomfortable as Lexi may seem with her social status, there’s a hint of pride in her voice at the family name.

“Well, I can see why your mom started teaching you physics at five!”

“She’s kind of a legend among science nerds, so since I’m a science major, pretty much everyone I’ve met here has already known about me beforehand.”

Taylor vaguely remembers ‘the Luthor-Danvers heir’ making headlines on magazines for some sort of scientific research a few years back and she vows to google it when she gets home.

“Well, I’m an art major, and I know absolutely nothing about science; hence the failing grade in physics.”

Lexi’s mouth quirks upward.

“Right, well I can probably help you with that.”

“Like I said, undying gratitude.” She teases and Lexi starts to say something only to get cut off by a shriek echoing out across the quad.

��Lexi!! A little help here! This Dargorian poodle is a little out of control!!” A huge beast streaks by- one that resembles a St. Bernard only without the fur - dragging behind it a person on roller skates.

“Uhh,” Lexi begins stuffing her books into her backpack. "I - I have to go, that’s my cousin. Tomorrow at 1? Does that work for you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Study date? Tomorrow at 1pm in the library, second floor?” Lexi slings the stuffed bag over her shoulder with surprising ease and Taylor tries not to drool.

“Oh! yeah, perfect!”

“Great! I’ll see you then!” There’s a blinding grin tossed in her direction, and then Lexi is gone, running after the animal and its handler.

Taylor still isn’t sure what possessed her to follow her crush and ask her for help; but it’s easily the best decision she’s made all week.

So let me know what you guys think about this one!! This is the closest to an original fic that I've ever written - all of the speaking characters are original characters - so i'm a little nervous!

#supercorp #Lexington Luthor-Danvers #the lexington chronicles #Taylor the Girlfriend #a major part of the reason that Lexi is such a bumbling mess is because she has a HUGE crush on Taylor #fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

nathanjhill · 6 years

Text

Worthy of Saving

Scripture: John 3:11-21

One of my mentors, Father Eugene Brake, this wiry renegade Catholic priest who worked at the Capital Area Food Bank, told stories that inspired me - like the time he chained himself to a government building to protest unjust programs for the poor or the time after Major League Baseball announced a huge deal that he drove up to New York City by himself and asked to meet with the Commissioner to get some of that money for food banks. (They didn’t let him past the front desk.)

One of the best, that I have shared a little bit about before, was one of his memories of doing prison ministry here in the DC area. Father B went down the line of cells to meet with the men, pray with them, or just greet them - but all of the men kept telling him to avoid the last cell on the right. Because the guy in there was a bad dude. A very bad dude. But Father B went anyway and met this tall, muscled man with tattoos all over his body, who indeed had this look of menace around him. And as Father Eugene drew close to the cell, this man reached out between the bars and suddenly grasped this roaming priest. To his surprise though, it was a gentle, loving grasp, and this bad dude kept saying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming to talk with me.”

This bad dude turned out to be just another child of God, worthy of love.

I learned a lot about following Jesus from Father B - that there is definite risk involved and that you might discover God’s grace in the unlikeliest of places.

Father B recognized in his life and ministry that some people in our society are simply deemed unworthy.

Unworthy of success. Unworthy of loved. Unworthy of second chances.

It’s a message that I know I carry with me. Some of it comes from the media that we consume on a regular basis, where every commercial and image reminds us that we probably should lose a few pounds, buy the newest iPhone, or invest in our retirement plans if we want to be considered responsible and cool people. Some of it comes from our vicious political conversations where bullying and belittling others is the norm. Some of it is simply from within, not feeling like we have achieved what we have wanted in life, found the right relationship to make us happy, or climbed the corporate ladder as quickly as we should.

We are always comparing ourselves to others - and it can always seem like we come up short.

When we feel that we are unworthy, we treat each other like that. We fear those who are different. We sometimes choose to hate as a means of puffing ourselves up. We dump things into our bodies and into Creation since there is nothing of value to be celebrated. We dismiss voices of others, especially someone who is trying to love us, because there is no way we deserve any of that.

It’s no surprise that we suffer under waves of violence in our country.

It’s no mystery that many people turn to suicide in their sorrow and pain.

I wonder - did you feel unworthy sometime this past week? Or do you know someone who has?

I wonder how difficult it has been for you or your loved one?

Such a place can feel like a darkest night.

In our scripture today, Jesus’ words come to us in the dark of night.

If you go back to the beginning of Chapter 3, Jesus’ teaching begins in a conversation with a Pharisee, a Jewish leader, named Nicodemus. Nicodemus sneaks in the back door, sometime after midnight, curious to learn more about this one that some people were calling Savior. Why did he come at midnight? We don’t know.

As a good Jew, was he afraid to be seen in public with Jesus, who had just in the last chapter, caused a huge scene at the temple, knocking over tables and driving livestock out of the temple?

Or was he a co-conspirator along with Jesus’ disciples, ready to launch this new kingdom and an overthrow of the Roman Empire?

Those are both interesting answers - but today, I want to imagine that Nicodemus was feeling like some of us do - unworthy. Unworthy of redemption, unworthy of the gift of life, unworthy of God’s love.

His questions to Jesus seem to give weight to that.

How can I be born again, rabbi? How can any of this be?

Nicodemus doesn’t quite get Jesus. He has heard some of the wonderful things that this rabbi has done, the signs and wonders, but he doesn’t understand. He’s come for answers - how can I get some reassurance that God loves me, that I’m not alone, that I am worth something?

Maybe Nicodemus was prepared to hand over his resume or recite scripture or do whatever this rabbi asked to prove his worth once and for all.

But Jesus was not interested in talking about Nicodemus’ life, his status, his wealth, or his choices -

Jesus just wanted to talk about God - God’s actions.

In John 3:16, one of the most famous verses in this Gospel, Jesus says to Nicodemus, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

Language scholars who study the Ancient Greek that the gospel was originally written challenge us to re-read this verse with a more accurate translation. A better translation is this:

“For this is how God loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

While Nicodemus is fretting about how to get into God’s good graces, Jesus proclaims plainly that God is already doing just that - Jesus is present right then and there on earth to announce the good news. The world is worthy. Human beings are worthy. Dogs, cats, plants, fish, whatever - it is all worthy of being saved.

And this is how he did it - by giving Jesus, who dared bring heaven and earth together.

Jesus says to Nicodemus in the next verse:

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

To be saved is to be reclaimed.

To be saved is to be confirmed.

To be saved is to be made, without a doubt, worthy.

Nicodemus may not have seen himself worthy of being saved, but God did.

In the midst of his darkness, God showed up - in his darkest hour, when Nicodemus could not sleep for the fear and anxiety that lay upon his heart, God met him face to face.

And Jesus loved him into the light of new life.

The good news for us friends is that God isn’t held back by our sense of unworthiness, our failures, our fears, or our past. If so, our gospel message wouldn’t be much good news at all. Rather, Jesus is telling us and reminding us that God’s heart is big enough for each of us and the darkness that we might face.

Whether our day is good or bad and we feel like we have fallen short of the glory of God, God still sees someone worthy of saving.

Whether you are homeless, wealthy, gay, straight, divorced, confused, victim, or victimizer, God sees someone worthy of saving.

Whether your family looks kind of normal or is an embarrassing mess, God sees a family worthy of saving.

Whether your city streets are wracked by gun violence or layered with years of oppression, God sees a city worthy of saving.

God even sees a whole planet worthy of saving.

God sent Jesus to bring heaven and earth together, to blend and blur the stark distinctions of our reality and our lives, so that we experience first and foremost God’s love. No more distance. No more separation. God with us.

Nicodemus, in his state of darkness, couldn’t see the light right in front of him.

And maybe there are days when we can’t either.

But when we encounter Jesus, the light begins to grow in us. It grew in Nicodemus - even placing him there after Jesus’ death on the cross, laying his rabbi and savior in the tomb with tenderness and honor that was fitting for his Lord. Nicodemus believed. He discovered the light.

Friends, God invites us to step into the light, the light of God’s love.

Following Jesus means pursuing that light, wherever it might lead, from prison cells to midnight conversations, and sharing God’s love that we find in our Risen Lord.

God’s light is the kind of light certainly reveals the ways in which we are broken but it’s also the kind of light, like sunlight through a stained glass window, that enhances our distinct colors and beauty.

God’s light is the kind of light that a dentist might use to eradicate a cavity and at the same time brighten our teeth to their full deserved splendor.

God’s light is the magic hour of Creation that permeates the majesty of the Blue Ridge mountains and the twinkling foam of the Chesapeake Bay and even the pinpricks of wonder overhead in the night’s sky.

Following Jesus, especially in this day and age, is not about hiding in the darkness and trying not to be noticed - but to move with confidence that we walk in God’s light and have permission each and everyday to share that light.

I think God is preparing you to tell someone this week that they are worthy of saving.

There is someone you will cross paths with this week who is slinking about in darkness and don’t know how beautiful they are. You will have an opportunity this week to tell them,

For this is how God loves you that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

Former neo-Nazi removes swastika tattoos after unlikely friendship - YouTube

Step into the light and be healed. Step out of the darkness and know you are worthy of God’s love, worthy of your neighbor’s love, and worthy of eternal life.

#sermon #grace #john #jesus #gospel

0 notes