Ok I said that I was done talking about the shootout scene, but no. Listen. When the scab leader approaches Kim from behind while he's assessing your condition, you can do a skill check to warn him. That skill check gives you a bonus and is easier to pass if Kim trusts you, and even *more* bonus points if he *really* trusts you. I have a hunch that if you don't warn Kim to turn around then he DIES. Like listen. You're more likely to be able to warn him to turn around if he trusts you, okay? Whether or not Kim trusts you can be a deciding factor in whether he lives or dies. Do you hear me? His level of trust in you can determine his fate! DO YOU HEAR ME. WHETHER HE TRUSTS YOU OR NOT CAN DETERMINE IF HE LIVES OR DIES. LIKE HELLO!!!

Please Watch Circle: Two Worlds Connected (Another Manifesto)

After convincing some ppl to watch White Christmas, I am filled with hubris and thus have returned to try to convince y'all to watch another kdrama thriller. This times it's Circle: Two Worlds Connected (2017). It's sci-fi, it's whumpy, it's got a dual timeline going on, and it's got a great cast. It's also one of the first kdramas I ever watched--I started it back in 2017, lost access to the site I was streaming it from, and 3 years later, when I became actually competent at finding kdramas, I remembered to go find it again! I've now watched it... four times? five times? anyway it's a good show so let's dive in.

The Premise

Every episode of Circle has two parts to it.

The first part: In 2017, a college student named Kim Woo-jin is having family problems. His paranoid twin brother is convinced aliens exist and are killing ppl. Woo-jin met an alien once when he was a kid, but he's been repressing this and ignoring the implications ever since bc of related trauma. Then Woo-jin's twin goes missing, and Woo-jin goes haywire trying to track him down.

The second part: In 2037, society has become a little dystopian, particularly in a closed-off island city called "Smart Earth". "Smart Earth" is supposed to be a place without crime, but when a murder takes place, Detective Kim Joon-hyuk, an outsider, worms his way in to investigate. Secretly he's more interested in investigating Smart Earth itself... and trying to find his long lost brother.

HM I WONDER IF THERE'S A REASON THESE CHARACTERS BOTH HAVE KIM AS A SURNAME. PROBABLY JUST A COINCIDENCE I WOULDNT KNOW. IM SURE THESE TWO MYSTERIES HAVE NO RELATION TO EACH OTHER AT ALL.

The Characters

Kim Woo-jin:

Yes that is Yeo Jin-goo (I feel like most of my followers have watched Beyond Evil, but if you haven't, maybe you know him from Hotel del Luna or The Crowned Clown, idk, he's great). And yes, he is incredibly stressed and will be for pretty much the entire show.

I feel like the main selling point of the first half of this show, apart from the mystery itself, really is just "do you want to see Yeo Jin-goo be so, so tired and act in progressively more insane and risky ways over the course of twelve episodes".

He is a very good brother. He also is in a dynamic duo with a girl who may or may not be an alien. More on that below.

Kim Bum-gyun

He's paranoid and he's not always the best brother. But he's trying to be better and also. He may be (at least partly) right.

Han Jung-yeon

"Hey look at me I'm a normal college student and definitely not an alien. Despite the fact that I do kind of look identical to that alien you met like fifteen years ago."

"Regardless that was not me bc I am normal. Let's become a detective duo!"

Kim Joon-hyuk

Played by Kim Kang-woo! I feel like he's a bit less known than Yeo Jin-goo but I still love him. Very versatile actor. In this he's being your typical unruly cop but with Many Secrets. Going into much more detail than that would unfortunately give spoilers but I like seeing him piss Lee Ho-soo off.

Lee Ho-soo

Nicknamed "Pierrot" by Kim Joon-hyuk for the way he's ~always smiling~, Lee Ho-soo is Smart Earth's ideal peacekeeping employee. He thoroughly believes in their dystopian mood regulating technology and closed off society and no, he does not want to learn any deep dark secrets, thank you very much!!! Leave him alone!!!! (Yeah, he's going to go through all kinds of emotional breakdowns lols.) My favorite character on my first watch-through; later I began to stan Woo-jin more but it's a close thing.

So, so, so...

Is It Shippy?

Honestly, kind of depends on what you're looking for. The most obvious ships would be Kim Woo-jin/Han Jung-yeon, a ship that is very teased but never becomes canon, and Lee Ho-soo/Kim Joon-hyuk, a classic bickering-but-gradually-coming-to-understand-each-other type of duo. There are other shippy routes you could take... my friend for example ships two of Woo-jin's professors. I personally think certain reveals could lend themself to a [REDACTED] [REDACTED] shipping dynamic, which is all too rare, but since I redacted that part you will never know what I mean by that.

Is there shippy fanfic out there? NO BECAUSE THERE ARE A TOTAL OF FOUR FANFICS FOR THIS SHOW ON AO3 AND I CANT FIND ANY ELSEWHERE EITHER. yes three of those are shippy. YES I WANT MORE PLEASE.

More General Thoughts

Circle is a little melodramatic and messy, but it is also very clever. Even after the basic worldbuilding becomes clear, you probably won't be able to guess all the answers to the mysteries until mm. Episode eleven of twelve? I mean I'm sure there are people out there much better at guessing than me but. I didn't.

I also think it's more fun to watch this show (at least the first time) with a bunch of different theories in your mind as to what happened during the time skip. I had at least three running concurrently. No, none of them were correct. I never said I was good at guessing I only said I had fun.

Not EVERY loose thread gets tied up by the end. But things do get mostly resolved. And there's a lot of angst and suspense along the way!

Here are a few more pictures to convey the vibe:

I can also offer you a minimal number (two) of goofy gifsets.

Closing thoughts:

If you've watched Circle, pls come talk to me sometime. If you haven't watched Circle, I recommend giving it a try! I can tell you that anecdotally ppl who I've forced to watch White Christmas and Circle both like Circle better (except me, I like White Christmas better but also I am to be fair obsessed with both).

And for now, I have successfully exorcised my Circle feels for the day. Probably. I hope. (I may be back.)

my rating of supernatural season 2

1 - in my time of dying

literally they were insane for starting a season off like this. it had everything. i appreciate in hindsight how well it set up the themes for the entire rest of the season, as well as genuinely threw me off and astonished me. i have such complicated feelings on john winchester, but jeffrey dean morgan infuses him with such sympathy that i couldn't help but feel for him. fredric lehene as azazel is also a highlight, i genuinely think he gave us one of the best performances of the season, and i wonder if we'll be seeing him back. emotionally i think this was my most evocative post of the liveblog. 10/10

2 - everybody loves a clown

while the monster in this didn't hit as hard for me, i think it did a great job of setting up the roadhouse as a central location for the show, as well as introducing us to ellen, jo, and ash (my beloved, may his memory be a fucking blessing). it was also really impactful to see sam and dean's separate ways of grieving john, as well as giving us a really interesting role reversal. showing dean as the one disillusioned with their father while sam is eager to carry on his work is very compelling, especially because it's evident (at least to me) that sam is far more like his father than dean is. i'm glad they resolved my stress about the impala because jesus christ. 8/10

3 - bloodlust

MAN this episode fucks. it has a lot of supernatural all time hits, like dean's coping mechanisms (bad), classic winchester codependency, wondering about the morality of judging all supernatural creatures as "monsters" to be exterminated, and starts setting up the tension of dean potentially having to kill his brother. unfortunately, it also introduces another kind of supernatural standard, which is its constant crimes against black people. gordon is an interesting and compelling character, but you can really tell he was the product of white writers and casting directors, because his complexities are not treated well. it's also worth noting that in this season, the majority of the recurring antagonists are black men, and the implications of that just. doesn't really sit well with me. beyond that though, the premise of the episode is really interesting. 7/10

4 - children shouldn't play with dead things

we have another like. weirdly sexually charged episode. which is par for the course in this show but it's always funny to witness wincest in its natural tongue-in-cheek habitat. i thought the monster in this was fun, and it sets up the revelation dean has about john dying for him very very well. the one sin is that y'all did not have an episode set in lawrence kansas without having the boys go visit missouri mosely? really? the disrespect. 8/10

5 - simon said

this episode did NOT have to go as hard as it did. this is like. peak supernatural. i really enjoyed andy as a character, and the further setup of the chosen children and their abilities is sick as hell. the parallels between sam & dean and andy & his brother were... appropriately bonkers. this is supernatural. we can't have a normal brotherly relationship. we got fell on black days. 10/10

6 - no exit

i have to admit that i really love jo and was glad to see her centered more in an episode, though i am begging her and dean just to get it over with and make out already. i also thought that making h. h. holmes the ghost was pretty badass. this season does a lot more with actual american folklore and history instead of just having generic monster of the week episodes, and as a huge nerd i thought that was great. the ellen and john backstory reveal was also particularly tragic. i had fun here. 7/10

7 - the usual suspects

okay this one was so much fun. this was one of the first episodes where they really shook up the formula and turned our expectations of it on its head. i also thought highlighting how in sync sam and dean are with each other through a prisoner's dilemma scenario was really clever. this show never really commits to an acab stance in a way i would have preferred, but this was the early aughts so like. it's whatever. they get close enough to it. 8/10

8 - crossroad blues

this episode excels in that it takes one of the most classic american folktales (selling your soul to the devil at the crossroads) and uses it as a fun monster premise as well as setting up the denouement. it also has a fun tribute to robert johnson, which i found pretty cool. demons seal deals with a kiss so i demand to know why the hell azazel and john didn't kiss. you know. for scientific purposes. 8/10

9 - croatoan

insane that this show managed to make a zombie apocalypse style episode without zombies or the apocalypse. it was pretty inventive, especially because i'm kind of tired of the white western idea of zombies. the conspiracies around the word croatoan are kind of funny to me because like. overwhelmingly the evidence points to the lost roanoke colony assimilating with the local american indian nations, but i'm here for a fun time not a technical time. this episode also sets up some insane lore for the end of the season with sam, as well as some classic winchester agonizing. 9/10

10 - hunted

gonna put a quick trigger warning for discussion of racism here.

this episode could have been perfect and then they dropped the ball so hard at the end that it was physically painful. it had two incredible soundtrack choices (white rabbit and supermassive black hole), what was maybe a twin peaks reference???, it girl katherine isabelle, and some really well done suspense where dean is essentially a trap baited for sam. however, the righteous justice for gordon being sam calling the cops on him so a bunch of cops roll up on a black man wildly shooting a gun into the night made me feel sick to my stomach. there's no real way to look at that as anything but racist and tone deaf. they could have handled gordon's character far better. at the time, i said that i was glad that the show didn't show its white protagonists shooting a black man in cold blood, but the last episode really negated that. ugh. i don't know if i feel good about rating this episode quite honestly, because it was really the best and worst of supernatural.

11 - playthings

HOLY FUCK. WHAT CAN I EVEN SAY THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID. it's a homage to the shining and also like. thee wincest episode? how am i supposed to be normal about this. 100/10

12 - night shifter

i'm so glad they brought the shapeshifter mechanic back, but i don't think it was done as effectively as in skins 1x06, but maybe i just have a fixation on the erotic. anyway. i kind of struggled with the setup for this, because while it is cool, it doesn't feel as classically supernatural to me. calling sam dean's bonnie to his clyde? insane. 7/10

13 - houses of the holy

i don't really have anything coherent to say here except sam winchester prays every day. amen. 8/10

14 - born under a bad sign

ohhhh the concept of this fucked so hard, but the pacing was just really off. it felt like simultaneously this episode should have had more time with this story, but on the other hand i don't know if it should have lasted two episodes. lost time is one of my favorite tropes, and the tension that comes with demon!sam is fantastic. i just wish that this episode had hit harder for me. 7/10

15 - tall tales

i said in my liveblog that this episode felt like that one episode of merlin where gaius is possessed by a goblin, and i stand by that. honestly i understand the need for there to be lighter episodes with less heavy stakes, and it was fun to see how the brothers saw the same events from different points of view, but this episode was kind of a low point for me. it was fun, but nothing extraordinary. i did really like the detail of the trickster getting away at the end. that was fun. 6/10

16 - roadkill

okay i did not expect this episode to tear my heart out. i really liked this, i thought it was startlingly sweet and sad. mike flanagan wishes he could make ghosts realizing they're dead this good quite honestly. 10/10

17 - heart

what the fuck! 10/10

18 - hollywood babylon

this was a lot of fun! this show likes to play around with meta a lot, and i think this was probably the most well done example of it thus far. it felt like the showrunners were poking fun at themselves more than anything, which i found pretty neat. 7/10

19 - folsom prison blues

first of all. you can't fucking name your episode folsom prison blues and not even play a johnny cash song. that's not how that works. it has some genuinely fun stakes and doesn't handle the prison aspect totally awfully. we also got an alice in chains needle drop! rooster was completely misplaced contextually, but aic's one of my favorite bands and i'm just glad we got it. 7/10

20 - what is and what should never be

what the fuck part two. dean winchester breaks my heart. 8/10

21 - all hell breaks loose (part 1)

HI UH THIS IS PEAK TELEVISION. I FEEL. HUUUUUGH. they really did it! they spent the entire season telling us that sam was going to die and then the crazy sons of bitches did it! i also really genuinely enjoyed the premise, as well as the ava reveal (katherine isabelle carried), and ash and andy made me so sad. fredric lehne is pure ice as azazel. delicious episode. 10/10

22 - all hell breaks loose (part 2)

this episode made me want to commit atrocities and i'm fine. dean winchester's constant willingness to sacrifice for the ones he loves because he's so deeply convinced that he's let them down makes me want to gnaw off all my fingers. sam's maybe come back wrong? incredible. JOHN WINCHESTER WITH A STEEL CHAIR. i'm addicted to this show. 10/10

So...

I'm ridiculous and too emotional?

Fucking yeah, probably.

Rant incoming, on god frfr (I'm not 16 in highschool rn so saying this is def cringe)

If you... post a video... about a topic (especially a sensitive topic? A controversial issue that has been made political for some asinine reason?) You NEED to clarify your position.

Maybe this is me being absurd but, if you don't clarify or place some sort of your own words on the things you share? That's an indication that you agree with it. So... this is why I share things of that nature with a fucking like "this is what I think" attached. It's so fucking important to declare and clarify your position when you post a controversial video about a controversial topic. Because otherwise, the people on your page have ZERO understanding of why you posted it or what it means besides, in my friend's case, "GeNdeR iNsAniTy" lmao

Like... if you post a video about how Hitler did nothing wrong and you don't clarify your stance? You're implying agreement with the content. That's just how it fucking is.

So, if you post a video from fucking... TWO ANTI-TRANS groups? Lmao and wonder why your friend is upset? Tbh? I find that to be unempathetic, actually quite crass, and without forethought or awareness to the implications of posting videos like that.

So... y'all can post whatever you want, but to tell someone that YOU KNOW has suffered over an issue since childhood?

Like, okay, say you post a video titled "Sexual assault isn't real; you're playing the victim" and you don't clarify your stance? Makes me wonder how many sexual assault survivors are going to be hurt.

Are you going to tell THEM that they are being "too emotional" and "ridiculous"?

The lack of self-awareness is... upsetting tbh.

I'm not even mad at this friend tbh. I'm hurt. Because we already talked about the issue of posting clickbait articles about sensitive topics to audiences that have no exposure to that topic.

It is damaging.

Like... you have to be conscious, socially and morally and otherwise, of what you're posting. Like... yeah I am emotional about it. I was angry because I'm HURT. I mean I thought she and I went over why it's important to clarify your position?

I can't tell her what to do, but I get so upset when I feel like my friend is sharing stuff with an audience of people that directly will impact those people's opinions on the trans community if they watch it.

I don't think that's ridiculous. That's how minds are changed and made. Small things like that...

I just... I also have a right to be upset. She has a right to tell me to fuck off and she'd be within her rights to do so, and hell, maybe even justified.

Just...

Clarify your position when sharing controversial videos about current issues - especially if your opinion does not reflect what the video is saying (in its entirety or portions)

It's about being socially conscious.

Be aware.

Be, for lack of a better word - woke

Lmao

So many communities suffer and we have to think about what we are showing our audiences imo.

25 Days of FicMas

December 17th prompt: Christmas shopping with a stranger (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2,154

Toy Shop Terror

Okay so this one is much lighter and fluffier than yesterday's prompt! They're not really together when shopping but this is what I came up with! I hope y'all like it!

-H❤🖖

Leonard McCoy ran a hand through his hair frantically; he was in the corner of a crowded toy store on Christmas eve looking for the “Harry Potter” section. Leonard marveled at how people were going completely insane over something their child will most likely play with for a week or two. Shaking his head he bobbed and weaved through the mass of angry, hurried customers keeping an eye for the isle he needed. Spotting the large sign Leonard ducked into the aisle to find it torn apart, “oh these poor workers,” he muttered eyes wide. Toys and merchandise lay scattered over the almost barren shelves and littered the floor. Stepping over large cardboard boxes that once held said merchandise Leonard groaned in frustration, “damnit!” he cursed, voice a deep growl. A loud shriek made him quickly lookup; he saw a pretty young woman stumble into the aisle clutching onto a stuffed panda bear like it was a lifeline, “same to you pal!” you shouted flipping off the man that shoved you out of the way. The gesture was reciprocated. Scowling you examined the bear carefully, searching for rips or tears. When you felt it was in okay condition you finally looked up to see him there with an amused expression on his face. “Some people,” you chuckled nervously, waving the bear around. You took note of the shelves Leonard was standing in front of and winced sympathetically. “Oh, Harry Potter that's tough, I’m sorry,” you grimaced at the state of things; Leonard huffed in agreement, “my daughter has been begging for the books for a while and I’ve been looking everywhere for the box set,” he muttered hand going through his already messed up hair again. 

“Well I wish you the best of luck, god knows you’re gonna need it,” you said with a dry laugh. You looked around, clearing your throat you bit your lip, “have uh you seen the electronic section?” Leonard raised an eyebrow and pointed a thumb toward the back of the store, his own look of sympathy crossing his face. “Fuck, okay. Stupid drone is gonna be the death of me. Good luck and may the odds ever be in your favor, wait wrong series…” you trailed off scrunching up your face in thought. Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics; giving him a cheeky smile you gave him a two-fingered salute and dove back into the crowd.  ‘What a strange woman,’ he thought with a crooked smile.

Sighing Leonard looked back at the barren shelves with slumped shoulders, “Maybe I should look for something else,” he murmured almost missing the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling the object Leonard looked at the caller ID, “I can’t talk now Jim,” he answered pressing a finger to his opposite ear. A faint voice whined from the other end of the call, “no I haven’t found it yet and I honestly don’t think I will. I knew I should have just ordered it off of-no, and no you can’t, that’s-I don’t care. Jim as your best friend I advise you that hitting on my sister is bad for your health," Leonard hung up the call and swiftly inserted himself into the crowd of shoppers. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

You bit your lip as you precariously balanced on some empty shelves hoping to peek over the throng of people. Your hunt for the drone your nephew had been begging for all year was nowhere to be found. Scanning over the crowd with a deep scowl on your face something caught your eye, a much older looking woman clutched three distinct green boxes to her chest. “Oh not today Brenda,” you growled the image of the cute forlorn father popping into your mind. You smirked at the thought of the guy, ‘I’m allowed. He had no ring…' your mind wandered as you pushed and shoved your way through shoppers. Scooping up an opened ‘Nerf Gun’ you cocked it and fired. The foam bullets bounced off of the woman’s head causing her to turn every which way. She screamed startled when one stuck itself to her coke bottle glasses. While she was distracted you slipped past sneakily grabbing one of the boxes from her stack. “Manager!” you heard her howl, glancing over your shoulder you grinned as no one bothered to give her a second glance. Whistling you tossed the plastic gun into a bin and held the box of books to your chest with the panda bear for your baby niece hanging from your fingers. “Now where is Mr. cute butt at…” you hummed thoughtfully. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the store, McCoy stared at a mass of stuffed animals and to his complete amazement, a pristine box holding a remote control drone sat amongst the bears, unicorns, and oddly enough poop pillows. Blinking he picked up the box, his mind drifting back to you. “Hold on to that tight man, last one!” an employee called to him as he passed. Holding the box closer Leonard eyed the people watching with envy as he walked by, “Alright darlin’ maybe I didn’t get what I came here for but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer,” he drawled searching for you in every aisle. Not looking where he was going he slammed into something small, it squeaked indignantly and he quickly grabbed the person steadying them. “Hey!” you both exclaimed with wide smiles. 

You held up the Harry Potter box set proudly and Leonard practically sagged in relief, “did you-how-” he laughed in shock. You chuckled looking mildly guilty, “don’t ask and you won’t be implicated,” you whispered which made Leonard raise a single eyebrow. Instead of commenting, he held up the drone you were searching for, making you squeal in delight. You bounced on your feet as you exchanged items, “Thank you!” you gasped looking at the drone eyes sparkling, “My nephew is gonna die!” thinking for a second you held out your hand, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” 

Leonard couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he grasped your tiny hand in his much bigger one, “Leonard McCoy, at your service ma’am.” he replied smoothly. Happening to glance over Leonard’s shoulder you spotted the ‘Harry Potter’ hoarder from earlier nerf bullet still stuck to her glasses. Blanching you clutched onto Leonards’s hand tighter before turning around and running off pulling the confused man behind you, “move it McCoy unless you want to give up the books!” you yelped shoving people out of the way. Leonard was suddenly ahead of you now pulling you easily through the hoard of people toward the check out area. You stumbled a few times with him being a bit taller and faster than you, “whoa cowboy!” 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I can’t believe you did that to get this,” Leonard barked out laughing, his shoulders shook as he sat across from you. You snickered munching on a french fry, “she had like three. I did her a favor those books were like a hundred and fifty a pop,” you muttered picking up your soda glass. Leonard smirked, “believe me darlin’ I know,” he huffed with a shake of his head. “Your daughter is lucky to have a dad like you,” you beamed at him picking up another fry from the basket you both were sharing. “I mean not many parents would be in a toy store on Christmas eve,” you said with a smirk. Leonard looked out the window of the little diner you had ducked into. Red tinted his cheeks and the tops of his ears, he shrugged after a minute, “She’s my world, there isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for her,” he said looking back at you. He grabbed a french fry, “You visiting Georgia for the Holidays?” he inquired popping the potato into his mouth. Taking a sip of soda you nodded, “Yeah though not for long. I’ll be moving here pretty soon,” you grinned. “Oh really, where are you comin’ from?” Leonard asked eyes lighting up thrilled at the prospect of you living in Georgia, “Seattle, I’m a paramedic,” you said with a smile. 

The conversation flowed easily; jumping from topic to topic. Leonard talked about how he was a doctor at Atlanta General and then you told him about the adventures from your profession. It would have flowed endlessly but the waitress walked over to your table saying that they were closing up soon; she smiled prettily at Leonard hoping he would take notice but he simply gave her a polite smile and paid for the meal. 

Once the bill was paid and a generous tip was left Leonard helped you into your jacket. He grabbed both your bags and he shot down your protests. Walking to the door you were about to open it when he beat you to it. “And they said chivalry is dead,” you murmured with a crooked smile. “Sweetheart my momma would kill me if I didn’t treat you like a lady,” McCoy flirted as he walked you to your car. "Your mom is a smart woman," you chuckled. You took the shopping bags from Leonard and stowed them away into the trunk of your rental, turning you held out your hand “Lemme see your phone,” you giggled when he gave a confused look. He wordlessly handed it to you and watched as you added your number to his contact information. Taking a picture of yourself you saved it as one of his favorites before giving it back. “There now you can get ahold of me, you know in case you need help getting the Hunger Games or something. Though I don’t think the Brenda's of the world would appreciate it,” you grinned. Leonard snorted a laugh as he pocketed his phone again, “Okay Katniss,” he sassed opening your car door. Your grin grew bigger, “Doctor I am impressed,” you gasped placing a hand over your heart dramatically. McCoy’s laugh echoed across the almost empty parking lot; getting in the car you shut the door and started the engine quickly so you could roll down the window. “Well my girl likes books so I’ve been kept up to date on her latest favorites,” he said leaning down resting his forearm just above the window. “She sounds like an amazing girl,” you whispered with a soft smile, Leonard’s dark hazel eyes twinkled in the street light you were parked under. “She truly is,” he murmured back. The air became thick and full of something you couldn’t place, Leonard cleared his throat leaning back. “You should get going, your family is going to worry,” he sighed not wanting to see you go. Your smile turned sad, “Yeah my brother will have a fit,” you agreed, glaring at the car's dash clock. You said your "Goodbyes" and you were soon on your way back to your brother’s home with a lot of things on your mind; a handsome doctor being one of them. 

The very next day you sat on your bedroom floor with a slew of presents waiting to be wrapped. Grumbling to yourself you struggled and fought with the wrapping paper, “Fold damnit!” you growled, voice muffled by the disposable tape dispenser in between your teeth. Your phone began to vibrate on the floor causing it to skitter in place, cursing you held the paper in place with one hand while the other grabbed the device. “H’lo,” your voice was muffled again. Rolling your eyes at your own stupidity you spat out the tape and tried again, “hello?” there was a deep chuckle from the other end. “(Y/N) it’s Leonard,” you sat up straighter a smile spreading across your face. “Len hey!” you greeted voice light, “I was wondering what your plans are for New Year’s Eve?” Leonard asked sounding nervous. ‘My god he’s adorable,’ you thought dreamily, “I’m not doing much just packing to head back to Seattle so I can then pack again to head back here,” you chuckled and facepalmed due to your ‘lameness,’ 

“I was uh- wonderin’ if you’d like to spend the day with me?” he asked making you scream internally, “Yeah I would love to,” you said hoping to not sound desperate. You heard a whispered voice in the background, “awesome Bones!” it said encouragingly. You bit your lip to keep from snickering. “I- uh that’s great! I’ll message you the details in a little bit!” Leonard said clearly smiling. “Daddy, can you help me with my braid?” the voice of a little girl hit your ear.  ‘That must be Joanna,’ your heart warmed, “I have to go but I’ll talk to you soon,” Leonard promised lowly making you chuckle. “Okay Len, talk to you then,” you set your phone down and took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to really like it here,” you murmured to the butterflies fluttering around in your chest and stomach. 

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@spenceneedsahug

ancient names, part x

ancient names, pt. x

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt x: how large the teeth

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~7.2k (yes I am a clown)

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Gore/violence, forced used of psychotropic drugs to induce hallucinations, spooky scaries (hi October!), implications of sexual assault though nothing specific, and uhhhhhhh liberal use of a shotgun. And you know, the usual things that come with Far Cry 5. Also, proofreader? I hardly know her.

Notes: So this chapter took quite a while to get around (thank you, writer's block), but it's here! And a spooky update, just in time for October, too! Yes, Elliot is hallucinating basically this entire chapter. What's real?? What isn't??? The world may never know.

I pulled a lot of inspiration from a LOT of medias/myths, so if you think you know what it is I would LOVE to hear from you and see if any of it comes through in my writing the way I want it to!

Special thanks to my lovely @starcrier, who has been a true homie throughout my wrestling with this chapter, and all of the lovelies here on tumblr and on AO3 who have sent in their feedback, chatted with me, and just all in all provided me with the support and inspiration I really needed to get this chapter done! I probably sound like a broken record by now, but the fact that I have managed to write this many chapters at all after finishing my first chaptered fic in a VERY long time just a few months ago is insane to me and certainly would not have happened without y'all.

Okay, sappy notes over. Enjoy! Thank y'all so much again!

She is twenty-four, and she cries under the tent of blankets that Joey has made for them.

It feels like she is seventeen, again, in a little fort that they make, but there are key differences: they are in Elliot’s apartment in the city, and Joey’s face is somber, and in the dark Elliot can feel the guttural, gut-wrenching grief sounds shaking her down to her skeleton.

Blanket tents were never for crying in, before. They were never a place to say, between gasping breaths, that she didn’t know why she let a man that she trusted touch her even when she didn’t want him to. How can she? If someone has never experienced the paralyzing fear of being completely out of control, of being helpless, how could it ever make sense?

Elliot knows that it doesn’t. She knows that Joey doesn’t understand completely, not really, and that it hurts her feelings that Elliot flinches when she moves too quickly, and that it stings to say the name of the man she had been dating—that his name tastes sour, like a venom, on her tongue now—and that when Joey tells her that she needs to tell someone what he did, it draws a noise of agony out of her not unlike the way an animal trapped sounds.

She does not sleep that night, or the next night, or the next, and finally when she is tired enough to be worn down she goes to a therapist. She has to, Joey says, or she will never get a job working with the law in Hope County, and Elliot knows she’s right so she does.

There are a lot of things that the therapist says. Trauma hits her the hardest. It blinks, a neon sign above her head, assigned to her so that all will know: that she is Trauma, that she has it, that it sits in her bones and makes a home out of her. Is that all I will ever be? She wonders. Trauma? Is that all that I have, now?

Each day is a series of motions, one after the other: waking up, getting up, standing and walking and breathing and existing, all the time. Each of those motions exhausts her. She files a restraining order; she goes to therapy; she takes the sleep medication but that is all she wants to take because otherwise she will feel too much unlike herself. She finishes her training with a clean bill of health from the doctor and her therapist and she packs her apartment, which hurts worse than maybe anything else, because each book and blanket and trinket packed away is a constant reminder of the person who had been there, who had stolen her safety from her in the very place that she was supposed to always feel safe.

But Hope County is waiting for her, and that is what she will take comfort in: that there is always a place for her, there.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was the worst-case scenario. In any other universe, in any other life, she would not have let herself be convinced to approach an enemy unarmed. Not even John’s flippant confidence that she could make a weapon out of anything instilled in her the idea that things would be alright, in the end.

That had been the only thought that could keep her going. Once I get Joey and get the hell out of Dodge, everything will be okay, her brain would say. Get Joey, get out. That’s all there is to it.

But that wasn’t all there was to it, anymore, and she knew that; she knew it while her heart hammered in her chest, while her skin itched and burned where the redhead had touched her like he was dripping in acid, while the blood rushed through her head in a violent tidal wave that made her feel like she was going to puke. They had stuffed a wet cloth into her mouth and hauled her away, out of sight of the Seeds, and now she sat—alone, tied, the cloth spit out onto the floor of the cabin they had left her in.

She was somehow both unaware of how much time was actually passing and fully confident that it had only been a half an hour; if she moved her head too fast (which was to say, at all) the world wobbled and swam around her. Elliot finally relented to burying her face into her knees and closing her eyes to try and stop the swimming nausea.

The door clicked open. She saw Ase, first, and behind her loomed the redhead. The woman was taller up close than Elliot would have thought—probably bridging five foot ten—which made the redhead much taller than she had thought, too.

I could kill her, she thought furiously, through the strange haze that had fallen over her. If I got my hands on her, I could.

“Hello, mor,” Ase said. Elliot saw the warmth blooming in her voice, like an aura welling up out of her, red and searing; the realization that they had certainly dipped the cloth in something that would ultimately be worse than just dying-by-chemical-ingestion hit her hard, sending her heart fluttering in a panic. It was the same brand of panic she had felt when John had found her in the field; wildly out of her control, as if she were being puppeted by something else, something larger than her.

The redhead closed the door behind them, and Ase closed what little distance that remained between the two of them, crouching in front of her. Elliot tried her best to muddle through the panic and muster up some hostility, but it was hard, when it felt like the floor was both sturdy and melting underneath her.

“Fuck you,” Elliot managed out, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton balls. It didn’t seem as though her words had any effect on the blonde, and for a second she panicked, wondering if she had even said anything at all in the first place or if it had just been in her imagination.

“You left Kian with a few nasty bites, didn’t you?” Ase asked, her voice welling with amusement. “I did not want to stuff a tea-soaked washcloth into your mouth, but we couldn’t have you drawing any more blood.”

Elliot’s gaze slid to the redhead—Kian, she thought venomously—and the movement of her eyeballs felt like they were hitching unsteadily in her skull. So they had drugged her, again. What the fuck was it with cults and drugging people?

The woman reached for her, and instinctively, Elliot flinched. The gesture came a few seconds too late; the drug in her system, whatever it was they had soaked the cloth in, was already starting to wear her down.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Elliot said, as Ase untied the rope around her feet and then her hands, “if you want me to stop biting people.”

“I am not worried,” Ase replied sweetly. “You’re already looking more docile by the minute, mor.”

Elliot swallowed thickly; to do so took concentrated effort. “That isn’t my name.”

“It isn’t a name at all,” the blonde agreed unhelpfully, tossing the ropes to the side and coming to a stand. She smoothed her hands across the dark fabric of her dress, and then extended a long, elegant hand. “Now, do you want to see your friend?”

She felt her heart stutter painfully in her chest at the woman’s words. After having been tricked and toyed with by John, it was strange to think she was finally in the home stretch that she had been trying to reach these last few days; that finally, finally, all of her toil and trouble was bringing her back to Joey.

Briefly, the idea that she could take Joey and run--leave the Seeds to their own devices--fluttered through her brain. Leave the Seeds to clean up this mess on their own. Hopefully, the Resistance had already bolted out of Hope County and were well on their way elsewhere. If she grabbed Joey and got out--if she could get in touch with law enforcement outside of Hope County--

Elliot stared at the Swede's hand and tried to gather her thoughts up in one place. It felt too much like they had become marbles, spilling out of her hands every time she tried to focus. She took a breath and then forced herself to a stand, blatantly ignoring Ase's outstretched hand. Just the act of using her legs to stand felt a little like being on stilts; the world lurched and ground to a watery stop around her, and only confirmed, infuriatingly, what Ase had said--that she was in no shape to bolt, or fight for that matter.

"Come along, then," Ase said pleasantly, taking a few steps away from her. Those few steps made it look as though the ground stretched out for miles between them, and her stomach twisted. The blonde looked at her over her shoulder and smiled.

"Kian, help our friend," she murmured. The redhead stepped forward and reached for her, ever obedient to his master, and Elliot immediately gritted her teeth and took an unsteady step backward.

"Kian, don’t," she bit out, mimicking Ase’s honeyed tone as much as she could. And then, less sweet: "If you touch me again, you'll walk away with a lot more than a bite mark, fuckhead."

Kian flashed a smile that felt like a snake against her skin and gestured for her to go on ahead. "Go on, then."

Just being in his proximity again made her skin crawl; it felt still like his hand was around her throat, the heat of his breath against the shell of her ear. Even in the dizzying haze that had settled over her, she felt her heart leap uneasily into her throat at the memory.

Before she realized what was happening, Elliot's feet had carried her out around Kian and out of the cabin, trailing the beacon that Ase had become, a strange green aura undulating around her. I hate this, she thought, watching the way the trees around her shifted and bled into the night sky.

"How—how long was I in there?" She asked, falling into an uneasy pace next to Ase.

"A few hours," she replied, looking over at her. "Felt shorter?"

Yes, Elliot thought, but the word didn't come to her mouth. The ground slid under her feet; the world around her pulsed in time with her breaths, stretching and cinching in equal parts until she found herself standing in front of another of the cabins. In the distance, the sound of the lake water lapping at the shore echoed over and over in her head.

Ase pushed the door to the cabin open, and inside sat Joey Hudson.

She looked tired, days of exhaustion sitting heavy on her face, a dark shadow of sleeplessness and makeup both ringing her eyes. Joey had always been pretty, and now was no exception; the brunette, though her clothes were dirty and her eyes fluttered with tiredness, was just as lovely as she always was. The sight of her had Elliot’s head and heart swimming with emotion, rising up thick and high in her throat until she thought she might come unglued right there, in front of a psychotic woman.

But with the feeling of being on a seesaw unseating her nonstop, and the desperate, aching reminder of the person she had been missing all along, Elliot didn’t think almost anything about Ase. As far as she was concerned, in that moment, the woman ceased to exist; the same choking feeling that she’d felt when Jerome had said, you can tell me if it’s not okay. A relinquishing. A lifting of her burden. You don’t have to Atlas this thing alone.

“Joey,” Elliot said, the woman’s name coming out of her mouth hoarse and heavy. Joey’s eyes fluttered tiredly and she mustered up the closest thing to a smile.

“Hey, El,” Joey replied. As Elliot crossed the space between them and immediately crouched to kneel in front of her, the smile warmed into something more genuine. In an effort of lightness, the brunette said, “You should have called, I would have cleaned up.”

Elliot felt the soft, wrecked little sound, so close to a sob, more than she heard it; it was a choked almost-laugh, her hands fluttering absently as though unsure of where to land. “I tried,” she managed out, as thinking and speaking became harder, her jaw stiff and unyielding. “I tried, Joey—”

Joey nodded and said, “I know.”

“I will leave you,” Ase said lightly from the door, “but, Elliot? You only have a short time before you become fully open to the influence. I would drink some water.”

The blonde turned, leaving and closing the door behind her, leaving just the two of them there. By then, even while the world swam around her, and she thought she could see little sparks of orange light flying off of Joey, she threw her arms around the brunette and hugged her tightly. It took a minute for her to realize that she was crying--happy, relieved tears, the kind that came suddenly and without warning.

“I was so worried about you,” Elliot murmured between sniffles, pulling back and immediately searching for restraints. There were none. Unlike John Seed’s version of Joey’s captivity, no duct tape covered her mouth, nothing bound her hands together; she was just sitting in there—probably knowing well enough that running would have been a worse idea. “I thought John had you, and then he got me, and then he said he’d pawned you off to Faith, and—”

“Slow down,” Joey laughed, the sound not quite reaching deep enough in the cavity of her chest to be a real one. “You have crazy eyes, El.”

“They gave me something,” she explained, pressing the heel of her palm against her eye. “They did it once before, but it was stronger then.”

Joey handed her the bottle of water she had been nursing, uncapping it for her. “They gave it to me too, once,” she replied. “But not again. Maybe I didn’t give them the response they were looking for. Elliot, these people are--there’s something really wrong here. They keep talking about this thing in the woods, asking if I’ve seen it...”

Elliot took a big swallow of the water, shifting on her knees and then taking another. She felt absolutely parched—the water tasted a little funny, but she wasn’t sure if she trusted her own sense of taste right in that moment anyway. “We have to get out,” she said. Whatever the cult believed in or practiced didn’t matter; what mattered was getting the fuck away from them.

She was certain she could hear Ase’s voice just outside. She lowered her voice, trying her hardest to make sure she was whispering, “We were hoping to—I mean, I was hoping to—the plan went wrong, Joey, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But we can still get out.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Joey asked. “Sheriff Whitehorse, and Burke, and…”

Her voice trailed off absently, and Elliot could feel the brunette’s eyes on her. She hesitated, taking Joey’s hands in her own before she replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then who is ‘we’? Jerome and the others?”

“No, Jo, it’s--”

The door clicked open behind them, echoing once, twice, three times in Elliot’s head before she turned to see Ase looming in the doorway. Long, dark, the sharp angle of her jawline and the high slope of her cheeks making her look more severe, more beautiful than before.

“It is time for you to see,” she said, her voice light. “You will have time with your friend later.”

“What about Faith?” Elliot asked, struggling to her feet. “I want to see that Faith is okay too. That you haven’t—”

“After,” Ase replied, her voice startlingly ironclad.

“Joey comes with me.” She tried again, tried to force her voice to firmness, to assertion. But Ase only smiled, tranquil now despite the hardness of her voice. She crossed the small space between them, looming in Elliot’s vision--eclipsing all other light, taking away all sense of anything else outside of her.

“She stays,” Ase replied, not unkindly. “This is only for you to see.”

She crossed the distance of the cabin between them and reached for Elliot, taking her hand. The contact made Elliot’s skin buzz. She was so tired--so tired of this stretching and pulling of herself, so tired of the way their drugs made everything somehow more than what she could handle and forced her to handle it anyway.

“Joey—”

Elliot turned back to look at the brunette, reaching for her as Ase pulled her along; Joey had pulled herself to a stand and was trying to follow after them, saying something like, it’s okay, I don’t mind coming, really, more practiced at polite coercion than Elliot was. Before Joey could reach the door after them, Elliot saw the broad, tall form of Kian blocking out the doorway, saying something to Joey in Swedish.

“Hey! Leave her alone, you fuck—”

Ase pulled on her hand, hard, yanking her until she was stumbling after her sleek figure. Out in the night, where the air was chilly with an early-Autumn coldness and Elliot could see her breath floating out of her mouth, she almost felt at peace for a second. Everything was still. Incredibly still, the way the surface of a pond was before a stone landed.

One step at a time, she walked her to the edge of the campground. They broke the treeline, hand-in-hand, until they could see Sacred Skies Lake stretched out below them. Elliot craned her neck to try and see the cabin where they were keeping Joey, but the trees blocked most of her vision of the campground.

“Look, there,” Ase said, interrupting her thoughts. She gestured down at the far treeline. When Elliot turned to look, she saw nothing; only darkness in the still woods. Too still, she thought now—still in the way the forest was when a predator had arrived and all the prey had fled.

The lake rippled below them, and then smoothed out, dark and clear as glass. She tried desperately to see--really see, not just what the drugs were making her see, as though she could brute force her way through the barrage of sensations overwhelming her.

And then: “Hey!”

It was a woman’s voice, thrown from somewhere down by the lake. Elliot felt apprehension crawling across her skin. She didn’t know why it was making her nervous, but she strained to listen for it again all the same.

The voice said again, “Hey, Elli!” and she felt her stomach drop. It was her mother’s voice, the sweet Georgia drawl that her mother had always sported, calling to her from the woods. Calling for her.

“Mama?” Elliot managed out, her voice thick and hoarse and bubbling before it even left her mouth. She felt Ase’s eyes on her, inquisitive, but all she could think about was I have to get her out of here, what is she doing here? Why isn’t she with the others?, so louder this time, she went, “Mama, I’m here!”

She took a step forward. It was Ase’s hand that stopped her, a gentle shake of her head. Elliot looked back at the woman for some kind of answer, but her expression was empty of anything that might have been helpful; on it was only the serene, delicate smile of a woman enthralled.

There was a stretch of silence. Something dark shifted in the trees. Something big, rippling leaves and branches as it moved. 

And then: “Mama?”

It was her voice.

It called, again, “Mama, I’m here?”, and the pitch and timbre felt the same as her own voice, like she’d shouted into an echoed canyon, but it was wrong. It was all wrong. It sounded like something trying her out, feeling out the way she sounded. Practicing.

The air bubbled around her with some kind of emotion. It popped, pulled tight, stretching over her vision like saran wrap, until it hurt to keep her eyes open, until she thought desperately that all she wanted to do was close her eyes—but she couldn’t. She had to stay awake, stay clear, stay conscious. For herself, for Joey and Boomer and for—

(Whether you like it or not, you and I are on the same side.)

It called, from deep in the treeline beyond the lake, again. “I’m here!” The voice pitched and pulled between words, like whatever it was kept trying to get the exact cadence of her words—trying her out, tasting. Sliding beneath her skin.

“What the fuck is that?” Elliot whispered. Ase smiled serenely at her, and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Look harder,” Ase murmured. “You will see It.”

She took a step forward, her heart thundering in her chest, trying to see beyond the utter stillness of the forest. Nothing moved; nothing breathed in time with her, anymore; where the drumbeat of the world had once felt it was intrinsically tied to her, she was now cut off from it, in a cold, dead space somewhere beyond.

Something in the trees shifted again, and rumbled.

“It has been waiting for you,” Ase murmured, coming up behind Elliot. Her voice was silky, warm, spinning a web around and around her until it made her feel—

Safe.

“What has?” Elliot managed out, swallowing thickly.

“We call it the Father,” she said. “It talks to us, when we are open to it. In voices we recognize, in the voices of our loved ones, so that it does not scare us.”

Her hands were on Elliot’s shoulders, gently squeezing, and she thought she was going to throw up. The trees in the distance warped and bent, swallowed up by something big and dark and humming, the vibration of it melting around her thrumming beneath her skin.

“It tells us, Elliot, that the end of the world is here. Your own Eden’s Gate knows it, do they not?” Ase’s voice was more urgent now; Elliot didn’t have time to think about how she said your own Eden’s Gate before she was plunging on. “They know it. The only difference between us and them is that we serve It, that we help to usher it in. Just as we once took, so do we give back to It—life, cyclic and infinite. You know it. You understood the words, in the flowers, didn’t you?”

My heart aches for you.

Be gentle with me.

I come soon.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she said, the words coming out slick with panic, spilling out of her before she could stop them. Her shoulders scrunched up to her jaw to try and brush Ase’s hands off of her. “You’re insane. You—crazy bitch—”

They were John’s words, not her own, but it was all she could muster up; the woman’s face remained light and serene, turning Elliot to look at her now.

“It waits for you,” she insisted, her voice wobbling around Elliot like the reverb of a bass drum. “I told you that you would always come back to us. I knew when I saw your color.” Her gaze swept over Elliot, almost affectionate. “White, in perfect balance.”

“Stop touching me,” Elliot managed out, pushing Ase’s hands weakly off of her. The strange thrumming persisted under her skin, a violent cacophony as she tried to block out the sound of her own voice beckoning her from the woods. Hey! Mama, I’m here! It said, begging her to follow, begging her to investigate.

Breathing became harder. It felt like she was gulping in lungfuls of water, eeking out whatever oxygen she could, but no matter where she looked to try and get Ase out of her mind she only saw dark trees; bending and curling and pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

“Mor,” Ase said, taking Elliot’s face in her hands like a lover would, “Mother, that’s what you are. For us, to us, while we serve It.”

“Fuck you,” she spit out, but her voice cracked instead, the fear welling up inside of her like a tidal wave. “I’ll—”

Ase shook her head. “I told you, it is a cycle,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you. It waits for us all, Elliot, and it will have you. As It gives, so too, does it take.”

She opened her mouth to respond when the loud crack of a gunshot echoed just a few feet away. Ase’s head snapped around viciously, her hand still gripping Elliot’s face with a firm, unforgiving hold; even in the dark, even with the drug wreaking havoc on her system, Elliot recognized the filthy backwater whooping of Peggies.

The flash of headlights through the trees suddenly brought everything back to life, the sound roaring in through Elliot’s head like someone had flicked the mute button back off again.

She turned to look back at the lake. Whatever had been lurking there was gone, now. The sound of feet hitting the dirt, shouted words in a foreign language, and the sweeping realization that they might yet still get out of here sent her heart hammering.

Ase pulled on her, hard, until she was stumbling after her. She craned her neck to try and see if she recognized anyone, to see if she could see one familiar face, but where the gunshots were echoing was already far enough that she could only see the brief flicker of headlights.

The door to the cabin opened. Warm light flooded her vision, splintering behind her eyelids as Ase pushed her inside and said, with a sudden and violent amount of poison, “Stay.”

Everything felt like she was swimming in molasses; each movement harder than the last, each breath taking more and more of her concentration. The door slammed shut. In the time it had taken Elliot to will her venom into existence, Ase had released her hand and swept out of the cabin, leaving her alone with Joey. Through the curtains, she could see dark shapes shifting and melting, one into another, and she took in a stuttering breath.

“Are you okay?” Joey asked immediately, reaching for her. “What did she say? When they did it to me, she kept asking if I could see—but it was just trees, out there, to me. El, look at me.”

“We have to get out,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, cracking with panic. “We have to get the fuck out of here, Joey. These people are—so much worse than Eden’s Gate—”

Voices catapulted in volume outside, tires squealing and doors slamming. All of it felt too loud, even with a wall between herself and the violence—like someone had cracked the volume up to one-hundred and then pulled the knob off.

“What the fuck? Are those Peggies?” Joey whispered, glancing out the window. “I do not want to be in the crossfire of two fucking cults. Elliot, when are the others coming? Where are they?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. As the sounds of cacophony increased outside, reminding her that she had made something like a deal with the devil, she took in a deep breath. She didn’t have time to think about the woods, or whatever it was she thought she’d seen in there, or the way that Ase had gripped her face and said, It waits for you.

“Right,” she said, trying to push those thoughts somewhere far down and out of sight. “So, listen, Joey, about the others, they’re—gone.”

Joey stared at her. “Gone?” she repeated.  Horror started to creep into her tone. “Like—dead—?”

“No, I mean—they’re gone. Or they should be,” she added quickly, heading towards the window to look out, “I told them to evacuate Hope County when I ran into these crazies the first time.”

“Okay,” the brunette began, slowly, “so… before, when you said we and—that you had a plan…”

“Right,” Elliot replied, her head swimming a little. “Yeah, a plan. Remember when I said that John got me—”

Joey shook her head, not because she didn’t remember but because she already saw where this was going. “Elliot—”

“—and then he told me that he pawned you off to Faith, and—well, Joey,” Elliot managed, “there wasn’t any way I was going to lose one iota of a chance of getting you back.”

“Fuck,” Joey groaned, pressing her hands to her eyes. “Fuck, Elliot, please tell me you didn’t—”

“Well, look, Joey—”

Something rattled the door. It struck Elliot with a note of panic that they had been locked in, and she didn’t know if in that moment she felt worse to know that they had closed them in or if it was a comfort, considering the chaos that was probably ensuing outside.

Worse, something in her head said. It always feels worse, to be trapped.

Someone banged on the door three times, and then through it came a blissfully familiar voice: “Elliot? Are you in there?”

Elliot felt a wave of relief wash over her. She never thought she would see the day where hearing John Seed’s voice would bring her relief, let alone comfort: but it did.

She hurried to the door, rattling the doorknob for good measure. “Yes,” she replied quickly, the words coming out a bit hoarse, so she tried again, louder this time: “Yeah, John, I’m in here. Can you break the window?”

“I’ll do you one better. Get back from the door.”

She did as he said, reaching for Joey just mere seconds before she heard a concussive splintering of wood and metal from the other side of the door, which swung open shortly thereafter. She was not wrong to think that the outside was chaos; she could hear it more clearly now, but almost none of it mattered, because John Seed was standing there with a shotgun in his arms.

“You could have just broken the window open,” Elliot managed out, around the complicated mess of feelings welling up inside of her and her tongue feeling two sizes too big in her mouth. “Idiot.”

“That’s a lot of attitude you’re giving your rescuer,” John replied, cocking the shotgun with an affirmative click, click, the plastic shell clattering onto the front porch of the cabin. “What are you standing around for? Let’s get moving, hellcat.”

“I’m not going with him,” Joey bit out venomously. “That psycho kidnapped me and held me hostage!”

“Oh, Hudson, that was so long ago,” John drawled, glancing over his shoulder at the erupting chaos behind him. “Keep up with the times, won’t you? Elliot and I are partners, now.”

It shouldn’t have felt dirty, hearing John Seed say that to Joey—because they were partners, because he didn’t have to come for her if he had Faith already and he did anyway—but it did. It felt traitorous.

“You fuckhead!” Joey snapped. “If any of our friends are dead, it’s your fault!”

“Okay!” Elliot announced, her voice high and panicked. It felt weird to be the middleman, the one demanding that everyone be calm. “Okay, let’s just—everyone shut the fuck up, okay? I am hours into a fucking drug trip and there is no time to debate the moral ethics of teaming up with a cult leader to escape another cult leader!”

Joey’s jaw clenched as she stared at John, her eyes narrowing, Elliot’s hand still firmly gripped in hers. She looked at Elliot for a moment, and then—

“Fine,” she ground out.

“Great,” John replied.

“Awesome,” Elliot said, taking in a deep breath. “Joey, is there any medicine in the cabinet? We should grab it.” She paused, looking at John for a moment, her gaze sweeping over him. He was unmarked. Unscarred. Splattered with blood, but it didn’t bother her—rather, assured her. “Did you—did you get Faith?”

He watched Joey let go of her hand and cross the room to gather up what few things she had—the half-drank water bottle, some pills from the cabinet in the bathroom that may or may not have expired, Elliot thought—and then he said, “First thing. She’s waiting for us down by the lake.”

“Good,” Elliot murmured, nodding and swallowing thickly. For a second, a strange silence stretched between them, and then John took a few steps into the cabin and he reached for her.

“They didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice dropping in volume, his fingers brushing her jaw and tilting her face to get a look at her neck where Kian’s fingers had dug into her skin.

She felt her lashes flutter, the feeling of his fingers skimming the still-tender spots sending strange vibrations rattling through her skull. Her skin didn’t crawl the same way it had when Kian had grabbed her, but heat did bloom in her face, and she felt it crawling all the way down her neck. His gaze darted over her face, lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat in their close proximity.

“Stupid,” she muttered, brushing his hand off. “Of course they didn’t. You should be checking on Ase’s little boy-pet.”

John grinned, the expression drenched in something close to pride. “I should have known.”

“Let’s go.” It was Joey’s voice that interrupted, slicing right through the moment, dousing out the flames Elliot felt in her chest. The brunette grabbed her hand and pulled her through the doorway, out into the cold, black night—a night swelling and vibrating with sound now, no longer ruptured by a stillness that sat like condensation in her lungs but noise, bubbling and sparking in the air like electricity.

Joey stopped, ducking and pulling Elliot back behind the next door cabin when the sound of gunfire pierced through the night. John slipped just ahead of them and said, “Hey, maybe let the guy with the gun go first?”

“Maybe the guy with the gun should be covering our asses instead,” Joey retorted. She pushed the water bottle into Elliot’s free hand and nudged her ahead. “C’mon, get a move on, Elli.”

John glanced back at her, and his expression said, Elli, huh? That’s cute. Elliot glared at him, but there was a lightness in her when she did—it didn’t matter, that infuriating way he cocked his grin at her, like he was equal parts pleased with himself and proud of her ferocity. It didn’t matter, because she could see the hilltop where Ase had shown her the lake, and once they got down they were home free, and John Seed could feel however he wanted to about her.

She had Joey. She would be free to go, and leave the Seeds behind her.

Shouting clipped through the air in the distance, and John glanced back behind them, exhaling through his mouth. No doubt the members of Eden’s Gate that were creating this diversion (and that’s what it was, a diversion) were getting mowed down, obliterated by the organized, methodical killing that the Family was capable of.

Elliot glanced back. Through the gaps in the trees, she could see bodies dropping and crumpling against the ground, pulled and yanked out of trucks that had been driven right up against the clearing. Lambs to the slaughter, she thought hazily, her fingers slipping out of Joey’s hand. What am I, then?

Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you. 

Someone screamed. She saw the light of it, pinching off of them in sharp, rapid bursts of yellow, swimming through the air until disappearing into the night sky above her where the boughs of the trees stretched impossibly far. Each massacre, each bloody slaughter ending life after life, the residue filtering through the air in ghostly wisps of color.

As It gives, so too, does it take.

“El,” John said, taking a step down the hill, “we have to go.”

“Joey?” she asked. “She--”

“On her way down the hill, already.” He reached for her, hand outstretched, ignoring that she seemed to keep losing time. “Let’s go.”

Elliot paused at the top of the hill; her gaze darted, without much thought, to the treeline—it’s nothing, she thought to herself, I just want to check.

Something lurched in the treeline. Big, breaking and snapping trees, and Elliot felt a breath slip out of her, violently departing her lungs.

“John,” she began, uneasily, “I don’t think I can—”

“You’re fine, El, just keep—”

Joey called something from down below them; irritation flickered across John’s expression, and he turned away from her to take another step down the hill and call back, “Yeah, we’re—just sit tight down there, Hudson…”

Elliot took an unsteady step backward, and just as she did, she felt someone grab her arm.

“Not you,” Ase hissed at her, yanking her hard until she stumbled back from the hillside. There was a frantic, wild energy about her now, infernal, bubbling up out of the calm, polished veneer. “Not you, mor, not this time. You get to stay and see what you’ve done.”

Elliot felt cold earth and pine needles beneath palms, prickling through her jeans as she hit the ground. Her stomach lurched; she thought she was going to throw up, but when she turned around to see Ase stalking towards her, a different kind of nausea welled up in her. For the first time in a long time, Elliot felt real, cold fear in her, searing through her like a venom.

She wanted to call for John, or Joey, or anyone—but her jaw felt like it was wrenched tight, and violent sparks of light were rushing off of Ase right in front of her eyes.

“You’re insane,” she managed out unsteadily, the heat in her voice whipped away by the panic inside of her.

“I told you,” Ase said, taking two steps closer to her, “no matter where you go, you will always—”

Something loud and concussive echoed. Elliot heard flesh and sinew tear until the pressure of something greater; the arterial spray of it peppered her vision, splattering across her face until the world looked like it was doused in red film.

Ase’s expression went slack as she sank to her knees in front of Elliot, and in the dark of the night, Elliot could see the blood splatter of the gaping wound in Ase’s stomach just before she slumped forward. She wasn’t dead, yet—as John took a step forward, cocking the shotgun again, Elliot thought about the way Ase’s stomach had been spilling out of her.

“John?” she asked, feeling very small and very far away. A part of her brain was vaguely aware of the sounds of the firefight echoing in the night, of voices shouting closer to her, but she couldn’t think about any of that. All she could think about is the way John was looking at her, the shotgun propped up and ready to fire again, though he didn’t. Not yet.

Something brushed her hand. Elliot looked back and saw Ase’s glassy eyes, her fingers brushing Elliot’s, reaching for her. Blood dripped out of her mouth, and the green light that Elliot had thought she’d seen around her now was beginning to dim. Her lips parted, her gaze flickering absently over her face.

“Do you see?”

Ase interlaced their fingers. The earth below her stretched out, pulling her, sweeping like a neverending conveyor belt that only managed to make her sicker.

Another concussive blast muted out the world. She heard nothing but the ringing in her ears as the back of Ase’s head caved in, their eyes locked and their fingers interlaced, like friends. Like sisters.

“No,” Elliot said, the sound coming out of her like some kind of agonized noise, “no no no—”

Something firm and warm gripped her shoulders. A hand reached up, pushing against her jaw until she was forced to turn her eyes away from Ase’s mouth moving silently.

It was John. Eclipsing her vision, filling it up until there nothing else. John, pulling her to her feet, wiping the blood from her face and saying something—something that she couldn’t hear, her head vibrating with the residue of the shotgun blast that had covered her in gore—pulling her to the hillside, pulling her down.

The world swam and melted around her as John pulled her down the hill, one hand gripping hers and the other steadying her as she stumbled and swayed. She tried to look elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t John, John who had looked like maybe he was hesitating and then had blown Ase’s head to pieces, but she couldn’t.

At the bottom of the hill, Joey immediately grabbed her away from John. “El? Elli? Are you okay?”

She didn’t know what to say. The feeling of Ase’s fingers reaching for her, interlacing with hers, stuck to her ribs. Elliot thought about the curve of the back of Ase’s head, concave from the shotgun shell, the carmine spray of the woman’s wound coating her face.

“If you want to stand around down here and chit chat, that’s fine.” It was Jacob’s voice. When had Jacob gotten there? Why was he there? She watched him grab Faith’s hand and pull the girl along, heading further down to the lake. “We’re leaving.”

“When—” Elliot began, still dazed, feeling like the world was becoming a watercolor painting around her. “When did Jacob—”

“Drink some water,” Joey said, holding the water bottle out to her, “and we’ll talk about it later, but right now we need to move, Elli.”

She nodded numbly, clutching Joey’s hand as she started to walk, John’s radiating warmth on the other side of her. Elliot glanced at him through the corner of his eyes for any indication that he felt, at all, any emotion about what he’d just done—but he only looked quietly troubled, his fingers brushing hers as they walked.

He’d said to her, grinning slick, yours must surely be the sin of wrath. But she didn’t feel so very wrathful now, Ase’s blood on her face and the world falling apart around her. She watched him, glancing around through the trees, checking the chaos behind them, the slaughterhouse he had led his lambs to.

Not this one. John’s voice, hissing in her ear, as she gasped around lungfuls of water. This one’s not clean.

John’s hands on either side of her face, gripping, grounding her to the earth when she felt like she was going to float away, when it felt like the earth was slipping out from beneath her feet. John, not grimacing or flinching when her nails dug into his arm to keep her present, to keep her anchored.

Which one are you? she thought, staring at him until her eyes burned, until he looked over at her inquisitively. Which John are you?

John, glowing with pride at Joseph’s praise. John, irritably telling her to smoke a cigarette because he knew from one casual conversation that it would relax her. John, his fingers brushing the skin just below her collarbone, saying maybe we’ll tattoo it here, just over your heart. John, calling her a killer.

By the pricking of my thumbs.

I Think I need a Doctor

Fun fact, I started this whole month out with a mini bucket list and this fic was one of two things on there. I really wanted to do some Karen whump since she is so underrated and this idea spawned during a convo about Deez Nups with the psych discord. It's a little different from my usual but I hope y'all enjoy it nonetheless! Summary: Fun fact, I started this whole month out with a mini bucket list and this fic was one of two things on there. I really wanted to do some Karen whump since she is so underrated and this idea spawned during a convo about Deez Nups with the psych discord. It's a little different from my usual but I hope y'all enjoy it nonetheless! Warnings: hospitals, miscarriage, nausea, blood also on ao3 (recommended cause this gets long) ___ Karen sighed. The women’s restroom in the police department wasn’t the most ideal place but it had been an extremely long day and she needed answers. All week she had been feeling tired and nauseous- frankly, she would have chalked it up to sickness but then she remembered that she had also missed her period which caused her thoughts to go elsewhere.

That was at 8 am and since then, she had been called down to a murder scene, the victim turned out to be an old police chief, had to deal with two ex-cops butting heads with her consultants, and comfort her detective after some sexist remarks. So she shoved the thought to the back of her head- or at least tried to. But the curiosity remained growing bit by bit. Eventually, the anticipation became too great and she had used much of her break running to the drug store and waiting in the women’s restroom.

Glancing at her watch for what felt like the millionth time, she took a deep breath noting that the three minutes were finally up. Her hands shook as she picked up the small piece of plastic, stilling herself for what answers it might hold. Her eyes widened as she saw the results.

Two clear pink lines.

She was pregnant.

Naturally, she’d have to confirm it with a doctor first but judging by all of her other symptoms, she was pretty sure it was true.

Leaning heavily against the stall door, reality started to sink in. A smile began to spread across her face, her breath coming out in huffy laughter.

“Holy crap, I’m pregnant.” She breathed, staring at the results, her heart beating rapidly. Her smile had turned into a full out grin, joy rising in her chest. She and Richard hadn’t exactly been trying but they weren’t being safe either. They had always wanted another kid but due to both of their ages, had never really thought it would happen. But now…

She resisted the urge to jump up and down. She couldn’t wait to tell Richard. ___ Walking through the front door, she barely paused to throw her keys in the bowl and shed her heels before seeking out her husband. She found him tucking Iris into bed and paused in the doorway to watch them. He was reading the four-year-old a story- If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, her favorite- but the peaceful atmosphere was short-lived as her daughter saw her.

“Mommy!” She yelled, reaching out with grabby hands and Karen smiled, pushing off of the doorway to sit on her bed beside her.

“Hello sweetheart, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Isokay.” Iris shrugged before giving her a gap-tooth smile. “Did you catch any bad guys?”

“Tons of them.” She leaned forward, placing a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “Did you have fun with daddy?”

“Mhmm,” She nodded vigorously, “We went to the park and had hot dogs and I fell off the swings!”

Karen raised an eyebrow at her husband who smiled sheepishly, “It was just a small fall, she’s okay.”

“I got a Wonder Woman bandaid, wanna see?” Karen didn’t have time to blink before the covers were pushed back and her pajama pants leg was rolled up, revealing a red bandaid on her knee. “Can you kiss it better?”

After exchanging amused looks with Richard, she bent down, pressing her lips against the wound. “There… all better.”

“Thank you,” Iris beamed, settling back into bed. “You can read more daddy.”

Richard laughed, “Sure thing pumpkin.”

After two more books- because of course, Iris needed her mom to read also- she and Richard gave their daughter one last kiss. Bidding their goodnights, they shut the door a little behind them, finally alone. Karen was suddenly very aware of just how nervous she was. It was big, life-changing news and while she was excited, it still made her stomach clench with anticipation and anxiety.

They made their way into the bedroom, out of earshot of their little one, before Richard turned around, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the bed. “So, how was work, really? I mean, obviously, you had to work late.”

“Yeah,” She sighed, shedding her suit coat and tossing it in the hamper. “An ex-police chief got murdered and now he’s suspected of laundering drugs. You can imagine the kind of PR nightmare this is gonna be.”

He frowned nose wrinkling, “That does not sound fun. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, “Well hopefully our detectives and consultants come up with something.” She shook her head, giving a little wave. “But enough with work, I have something I need to tell you.” Shifting a little, she bit her lip.

Sitting up straighter, he raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on her mood. “Yeah? What?”

“Well…” She started, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test that had weighed heavily there for most of the afternoon. “I’m pregnant.”

His jaw dropped, eyes going wide and she thought for a brief second that he may have been upset. But his face quickly broke out into a smile, leaping off the bed and pulling her into his arms.

“Holy crap, we’re gonna have another kid.” He gasped, burying his nose into her hair.

“Yeah…” The tears of joy that had been threatening to fall all afternoon finally did fall, slipping down her cheeks to land on his shirt.

They were going to be parents again, their family was going to grow. It was amazing and wonderful and she just couldn’t wait. ___ The next few weeks were a whirlwind of babies and cases. An appointment with her doctor confirmed that yes indeed she was pregnant, putting her at about four weeks along. She half-listened to his warnings about overexerting herself since miscarriage at her age was so common but she waved away those doubts. There was no use worrying over something that hopefully wouldn’t happen.

Shortly after that, they sat Iris down and told her the news. She was elated at the idea that she was going to be a big sister almost instantly berating her parents with an onslaught of questions about the baby. For the next two weeks straight, all her drawings were of her and her brother or sister.

As for her and Richard, they were thriving. They both decided to not tell any of their coworkers or extended family until the second trimester, not wanting to get any of their hopes up in the off chance that something went wrong. But they didn’t have any fear. Keeping the knowledge just to their little family made the whole experience feel more intimate. Sure they did have a few slips ups- especially since Iris couldn’t keep a secret- and she noticed her detectives giving her a few odd looks every now and again, particularly when she left early for a doctor’s appointment- but for the most part, the knowledge stayed between the three of them.

Between pulling Iris’ old baby stuff out of the attic, taking vitamins, working, and getting morning sickness, it felt like Karen’s life had gone to a new level of crazy. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it. The idea of having another baby was exciting and fun and caused her to seek Richard out and steal a kiss or two on several occasions. Of course, some days weren’t as great, like when she’d feel sick all day or wouldn’t get home until late or Richard had to travel for work, but regardless, she was still happy.

Truth be told though, she barely had enough time to focus on the baby or any preparations due to her job. It seemed like lately the crazies were just getting crazier. Not only did she have to deal with a hostage situation- on a boat of all things- two convicts wound up escaping, launching a manhunt. Then after that, there was a serial killer who was picking off people from a liver donation list, her consultants started acting weird, and somehow they wound up implicated in aiding an enemy agent. Of course, the Feds had to be called in which was a nightmare in of itself, and then her detective asked for two weeks off- which she was more than happy to give to her considering everything O’Hara had been through as of late- which was shortly followed by a retraction and a request to aid her partner in extraditing a convinced criminal back to the states.

So to say life was crazy may have been an understatement. It was downright insane.

On top of all of that, she had started feeling worse and worse and she worried for her unborn baby, fearing that getting sick could cause problems. But, luckily, she had a rare Saturday off and she was insistent on using it to relax and spend time with her daughter and husband.

And she did exactly that.

Sitting outside in the warm fall Santa Barbara air, she smiled, watching Iris run around the yard. Her daughter was playing her new favorite game, doggy princess, which basically was her running around and doing dog-like things. Laughing, Karen sent a content smile at her husband who exchanged the look and reached out a hand to cover hers.

“I can’t wait for Iris to have a sibling.” He squeezed her hand and her smile grew.

She glanced down, her hand rested on her stomach, fingers brushing the very small bump. “Me too, it’ll be good for her to have a playmate.”

He hummed in agreement, picking up her hand to press his lips against it. “I love you, dear.”

“I love you too.”

Turning back to their daughter, she frowned as her stomach clenched for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She had felt crampy pretty much all morning and well into the afternoon but had shaken it off. She worried that it would turn into morning sickness- after all, it had been a few days since she last got sick and she wasn’t looking forward to that again. She was never one to feed into her worries though and figured that if it continued into the next day, then she would call her doctor.

She turned her head, looking at her husband through tired eyes and he frowned. “Still feeling bad?”

She nodded lazily, “I guess I forgot how much being pregnant can suck sometimes.”

He gave a short laugh, leaning forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’ll all be worth it though.”

“You bet your butt it will.”

She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her. She wasn’t planning on taking a nap- after all a four-year-old made that particularly difficult- but resting her eyes seemed like a good idea. With a sigh, she relaxed, letting her stress and worry ease away.

She didn’t get very far into her quiet time before she felt a warm wetness between her legs. Groaning, she stood up and started walking towards the house.

“Where are you going?” Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I wet myself.” When his eyes widened, she rolled hers. “Remember? It happened all the time when I was pregnant with Iris. It’s just my luck that it’d happen with this one too.”

He frowned, “I’m sorry darling.”

“It’s fine,” She shrugged, “I’ll meet you inside for snack time?”

“Of course.”

She sighed again as she headed into the living room and snagged a clean pair of underwear from the laundry basket- thankful for once that she put off doing chores. Wandering into the downstairs bathroom, she stripped out of her pants and peeled back her panties, blood running cold. They were stained with a dark red.

She quickly changed, hands moving of their own accord as her mind raced. Exiting the bathroom, she made wide-eyed contact with her husband who paused his trek into the kitchen, picking up on her distress.

“What’s wrong?”

Swallowing heavily, her hands gripped the doorframe, knuckles turning white. “I think I need a doctor.” ___ The wait in the ER had been quick- only lasting about ten minutes- but to Karen, time crawled by. Waiting for the test results was even worse, the nurse had hastily taken blood, asked a few questions, then rushed off. Iris had been dropped off at her nephew’s house with little explanation which left the two of them to their thoughts and worries.

She wrung her hands, a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. It felt weird sitting on a hospital bed, after all the last time she had been in the hospital was when Iris was born and those memories did little to quell her nerves. Richard stood behind her, hands working her shoulders and she was grateful for his presence. If he had been on a business trip… she shook her head, now wasn’t the time for what-ifs.

“It’ll be okay.” She heard him say, though she wasn’t sure if it was to her or himself.

She didn’t have the heart to reply nor did she need to as a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Richard called and a doctor walked in, holding a clipboard close to his chest.

“Chief Vick, Mr. Vick,” He greeted with a nod of his head. “My name is Dr. Phillips, I’m sorry for the wait.”

“It’s okay,” She replied, “Thank you for seeing us so quickly.”

“Well with something so-” He waved his free hand, “Serious, we wanted to get you in fast.”

Her stomach clenched. “Serious?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes. I’m terribly sorry for this news but your blood work- and symptoms described- indicated that you’re having a miscarriage.”

Even though she had her suspicions, the words still hit her hard, knocking the air from her lungs. Her blood ran cold and she felt like she might throw up. Their child- the kid that they had been so excited about- was gone.

“In addition to your miscarriage,” He continued and she glanced up, barely registering his words, “Due to your age, I’m afraid you won’t be able to have any more children without serious complications. I’m very sorry.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, except she had experienced those before and this was so much worse. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. The world was falling apart around her, crashing to pieces. Her fingers found Richard’s, holding his hand as if her life depended on it- right now it felt like it did.

“Do- do you know the gender?” Richard spoke up, his voice sounding distant and shaky.

Dr. Phillips nodded, “While it’s not one-hundred percent accurate, the results of some blood tests indicate that the baby would have been a boy.”

“A boy.” He whispered, and her heart twisted again. They could have had a boy.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes.” The doctor said, though she barely registered his words.

Once he left the room, Richard climbed onto the bed, legs on either side of her, and wrapped his arms around her stomach, burning her face into her neck. She couldn’t even relax into his touch though, her body too stiff, too shocked to even move. Numbness felt all-consuming aside from the constant ache in her abdomen, stomach cramping with broken dreams- a signal that what they had longed for had officially come to an end.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until he wiped at her tears with his thumb and suddenly, all her emotions couldn’t get out fast enough. Her face crashed into her palms as sobs wracked her body. Behind her, she felt Richard tremble, his own tears beginning to fall. Her chest ached, lungs heaving as she grieved- because that’s what this really was, it was grieving. Grieving the loss of their unborn son, grieving the opportunity to have another child, grieving the joy that would have come with it.

They sobbed for what felt like hours until tears no longer fell and her cries turned to dry heaving. Her sleeves and back were wet, soaked by their combined tears but she didn’t care, too focused on the ache inside her chest. Leaning against him, she took a shuddered breath and he wrapped his arms across her chest, her hands coming up to grip his forearms.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I lost our baby.”

She could feel him shake his head. “Absolutely not Karen.” His voice was scratchy from unuse. “You didn’t lose anything. It happens.”

“It happened to us.” She took another shaking breath. “We were going to have a son.”

He sniffled. “I know.”

The pain increased as a thought crossed her mind, “How do we tell Iris?”

His breath hitched, “I don’t know… oh gosh this sucks so much.”

Nodding mutely, she closed her eyes, letting stray tears slip down her cheeks. “How are we going to get through this?” She mumbled.

“I don’t know,” He repeated, “but we’ll get through this together. We always do.”

Swallowing roughly, she nodded. “Thank you for being here… I love you.”

“I love you too. For better or for worse remember?”

“For better or for worse.” She echoed. ___ Two years later and the pain had faded, though not completely. Some days seeing mothers with new babies or families with lots of kids brought her back to that hospital- to pouring her emotions out on that bed and feeling that pain. But time had gone by, Iris was 6 now having recently started first grade, she was still chief and loving it. Life was still moving forward, and definitely for the better.

Her head detective was getting married and she sat in a dressing room, watching his bride-to-be get ready for her big day. She talked about how excited she was to be marrying him and Karen smiled, reflecting on her own wedding day all those years ago. She knew first hand that marriage had its ups and downs and she didn’t hesitate to tell the woman exactly that- about her occasional dreams of running away to the South of France, about Richard’s failed attempts to make eggs florentine or how he knew exactly what she needed on a stressful day. Her heart twisted and she yearned to tell them all about her miscarriage, that even in the hard times, it would all be worth it but she stopped, knowing that now wasn’t the time.

Instead, she began talking about what might have been. About her dreams of Richard being there for the birth of their child- about their son. “Oh, or that day when he walks into your hospital room holding your newborn son, and he will lay him gently on your chest, and he tells you that you look beautiful, even though you know you look like hell frozen over…” They chuckled and she smiled fondly, “And it all will be worth it.”

The moment was cut short as the maid of honor began complaining about her parole officer but she didn’t mind, jumping on the opportunity to help out- and thankful for the distraction. And later, when her detective cornered her, asking about why she said son when Iris exists, she didn’t hesitate to share what happened, reminding her that all relationships had pain but often the pain was worth it.

Watching her detectives dance and party, she smiled. Yes, she didn’t get to have more kids but her family wasn’t small. While the pain was still there, there was also hope. She had found her family and while it was unconventional, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

alwaysbewoke

dickslapthestate:

ranting-rose:

ittybittykittykisses:

ranting-rose:

vgcgraveyard:

caitallolovesyou:

friendly-neighborhood-patriarch:

lazyhat:

I was pretty skeptical about the figures, since they contradict what I usually hear on the media, so I did a little research. Here’s what I found:  (Sorry this is so US centric)  (I’ll also try to stay close to primary sources as possible)

(http://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/preview/mmwrhtml/ss6308a1.htm?s_cid=ss6308a1_e)

- the 12 months before taking the survey, an estimated 4.0% of women experienced some form of physical violence by an intimate partner -an estimated 14.2% of women experienced some form of psychological aggression in the 12 months preceding the survey. -*4,774,000 women have been victims of physical violence by intimate partner in the 12 months preceding the survey -*17,091,000 women have been victims of psychological aggression by intimate partner in the 12 months preceding the survey

- the 12 months before taking the survey, an estimated 4.8% of men experienced some form of physical violence by an intimate partner -an estimated 18.0% of men experienced some form of psychological aggression in the 12 months preceding the survey. -*5,452,000 men have been victims of physical violence by intimate partner in the 12 months preceding the survey -*20,471,000 men have been victims of psychological aggression by intimate partner in the 12 months preceding the survey

*Table 6

By the data presented by the Center for Disease Control, out of the estimate of 10,226,000 yearly victims of intimate partner violence, 53.3% of victims where male and 46.6% were female. As for psychological aggression, out of the estimate of 37,562,000 yearly victims, 54.4% were male and 45.5% were female. These statistics would support the claim made in the bottom left.

Now I couldn’t find a primary source for the 70% of DV is initiated by women, but here’s the facts that I found, which may have been interpreted by the people who made this poster:

(http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glenn-sacks/researcher-says-womens-in_b_222746.html) -Women who were in a battered women’s shelter, 67% of the women reported severe violence toward their partner in the past year.

This can be interpreted as “67% of violent couples with IPV is mutual”. But then again, primary sources and full data would be helpful to back up this claim.

But the one that is most interesting is:(http://psychnews.psychiatryonline.org/newsArticle.aspx?articleid=111137)(Another report analysis from the CDC)

-23.9% of relationships are violent -50.3% of IPV is non-reciprocal and 49.7% is reciprocal (Reciprocal IPV= Mutual violence) -70.7% of non-reciprocal IPV is initiated by women. 

So summing up the numbers, it’s not that 70% of all DV is initiated by women, its that 70% of non-reciprocal DV is initiated by women. To go further would say that 49.7% of DV is mutual, 36.2% of DV is initiated by women, and 14.5% of DV is initiated by men

Male victims of domestic violence are real. They are hurting. And they often don’t get the attention and compassion they so urgently deserve and need.

Have a heart. Open your mind, and give a care.

Hm. These numbers are all so different to anything I’ve seen before. I’m reblogging and liking this both for my own reference and to spread these numbers to others. I’m definitely gonna look into this and see if I can find more sources and more information.

Mother fuckers can we all just say let’s not be dicks to our fucking love ones already?

Tagging this for my speech project that I need the sources for

Here are 221 studies on IPV / DV for y’all.

You are a life saver.

That list is good, but outdated.  I e-mailed the researcher who compiled that list a couple weeks ago and he gave me three different documents.  I uploaded them to this dropbox folder. You can go there and download them.

The list of studies is now up to 343 scholarly investigations (270 empirical studies and 73 reviews). Not only did he send me that list, but he also sent me two meta-studies (also in the dropbox folder).  One is on male/female perpetration rates and the other is on male/female victimization rates. 

There is also “Rates of Bi-directional versus Uni-directional Intimate Partner Violence Across Samples, Sexual Orientations, and Race/Ethnicities: A Comprehensive Review“.  It’s a mouthful to be sure. Basically this study took the data from 48 other empirical studies, collated the data, placed it online for public viewing, submitted it for peer review, and was found to be accurate. 

It’s findings basically wind down to this:

84% of relationships are non-violent

58% of relationships that are violent, both partners abuse the other.

28% of violent relationships only the woman is violent

14% of violent relationships only the man is violent.

This is featured Partner Abuse State of Knowledge Project website and is part of a much larger DV research project.  You can read the summarized findings here or take a gander at the full 61-page review.  This is a compilation of the research of Erin Pizzey, Murray Strauss, Don Dutton, and many others who are challenging the feminist model of patriarchal dominance. They also have some videos that are very informative as well.

Murray Strauss also compiled: Thirty Years of Denying the Evidence on Gender Symmetry in Partner Violence: Implications for Prevention and Treatment.  A report detailing the existence of over 200 studies showing gender symmetry in victimization rates. Studies that show symmetry going as far back as 1975.  He also examines the methods feminist researchers have used to suppress the evidence from public discourse, hence the title “Thirty Years of Denying the Evidence”.

Two other excellent and brief videos on the topic come from the MenAreGood YouTube channel:

Male Victims of Domestic Violence - The Hidden Story

Bias Against Men and Boys in Mental Health Research

I really need to write up a solo reference post for domestic violence data…

so what do we have here? what i’ve been saying forever. women as initiators of domestic violence is one of the biggest, closely guarded secret around. we literally had female FEMINIST researchers hiding evidence. FEMINISTS!! but i’m the bad guy for stating that feminism is filled with man hatred. what would you say of men of who information about abuse women and thus allowed the abuse to continue? YOU FUCKING KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’D SAY!! am i surprised by the research? no fucking way. we don’t teach women in society to not hit men. we only teach men to not hit women. for little boys on up we are shamed if we even defend ourselves if little girls hit us BUT NOT ONE TIME HAVE I EVER HEARD OR SEEN ANY PARENT TEACHING THEIR LITTLE OR DAUGHTER THAT THEY SHOULD NOT HIT MEN!! we always make excuses for it. “she was emotional” “he said…” “he did…” “he had it coming…” and more. this research is fantastic but let’s be honest, this post isn’t going to get many reblogs at all because most of y'all are married to the idea that women are angels and men are devils. women have no agency and are always victims of men. that only men hit and women never hit. only men can be abusers and women can never be abusers. no amount of research is going to change your minds. men have done some evil shit but i so sick and tired of this narrative that women are just innocent, perfect deities. IF SHE HITS YOU ONCE, LEAVE HER ASS QUICK!!! IF SHE DID IT ONCE, SHE’LL FUCKING DO IT AGAIN!! GUARANTEED. and one more thing, FUCK FEMINISM. hiding empirical data but standing on your high horse preaching gender equality?! fuck feminism. so fucking glad i ceased to be a fucking feminist years ago. eye wide fucking open now.

sinjia

Thank you @alwaysbewoke !!! And did you know that there are feminists on here sending hate mail just because you don’t agree with them? It’s fucking sad, but I’m so happy that you said this. It lets me know that I’m not the only one realizing the shady bullshit that they preach but never practice themselves.

alwaysbewoke

i’ve only known one feminist who was on the right side of this issue and she was so because she works in the domestic violence field as a counselor. she told me she sees it all the time. men get hit, have things thrown at them, women come at them with knives, scratches on their faces and everything and yet we never talk about it. never. the only people who we pounce on for dv are men. we never ever talk about women. never ever. and if you do, you get shouted down. fuck all that.

this is why many men when they hear “feminism” they think “ok that means i get to hit back now.” because we’re tired of the bullshit. we’re tired of women getting away with hitting because society AND FEMINISM tells them it’s fine. it’s okay. they’re allowed. feminism PROTECTS FEMALE ABUSERS ALL DAY!! my goodness. to hide evidence as a researcher is akin to a crime. the ripple affect of that shit is fucking insane. however let them tell it, it’s a problem with men that we think feminism has a man hatred problem. yea the problem is with us because feminism is perfect. feminism ain’t never do no shit, no wrong ever. srsly fuck feminism. fuck it to the depths of hell.

this is why i tell people, dealing with only ONE half of a problem will only allow the problem to continue to exist. it doesn’t change shit. if anything it makes things worse.

racist, sexist feminism. fuck off. i spit on feminism every fucking chance i get. first they fuck over black women (and black men) and then they fuck over men with this type of bullshit. i refuse to align myself with that fuckery. i can help black women much better without it. i don’t need to be a part of something that hates me both as a man and as a black person to help sistas get equal pay and shit. fuckouttahere.

that’s why i call out all these people still posting pics and riding for solange knowles. imagine if i was posting pics and niceties for ray rice. but when women do some violent bullshit, we stay given them a pass smfh. 

so, i finished assassin's creed odyssey last night. essentially, anyway. there's still a bunch of places i haven't gone and sidequests i could do, plus DLC, but i finished up the main 3 storylines.

yes, i did cry when lbh frr nyrkvbf va cerfrag qnl. naq jura ur svanyyl qvrf. I KNEW it was coming, had for a long time cause i accidentally spoiled myself but. thinking about the implications of that... gosh 😭 (i had already spent the night before shedding a tear over oenfvqnf qlvat!! let me live!! but that one is fine cause ive already rewritten how it goes in my head hehe.)

i am already ready to jump right back into a NG+ tbh and start the adventure over. you guys, i love this game so much and i LOVE my alexios so so much. ridiculously fond of my angry, hurt, loving, godly powerful son who goes through so much and finally finds friends and love and purpose and will eventually heal despite it all, and.... clutches my heart just thinking about it. i think he comes out ahead of my DA PCs at this point on the love level.

this game no doubt has its flaws and the writing isn't always perfect, but it's so fun!! and if you are like me and you love to play RPGs for the world of possibilities and day dreams and fantasy it gives you to work with - you especially should REALLY play this game. it's got imagination potential in spades and as im playing im always thinking about how my alexios would be reacting or feeling about things going on from quests to even just ambient world dialog. bonus points if you are an angst fan because this story will feed you well. there is plenty of hope, too, never fear! but y'all know my brand by now ;) it's also an insanely gorgeous game and i love to just walk around and look and take photos like im on some kind of nature hike, it's very peaceful. and my alexios does too hehe.

also, you can ride a unicorn. a rainbow trailed unicorn.

it's on sale for $30 which is a steal so!! if you need a new game pick it up, play, enjoy, and come gush with me about it.

now im going to go think about alexios and certain parties smooching at a scenic sunrise some more and feel overwhelmed.

Just so y'all know, because I'm not caught up, I don't know what y'all know or don't know, and I'm seeing all these cryptic posts about Fjord and his "real voice" and Vandren, and it is truly driving me insane not knowing what it means.

I mean, the logical(?) answer is that Fjord is just really good at lying to the rest of the Mighty Nein, but DAMN, a fake voice for this long is QUITE the charade to intentionally keep up. Like, if that's what he's doing, I am impressed because that is some skill.

(Side note: it definitely should be said Travis Willingham is AWESOME for keeping up a fake voice for his character for this long.)

Anyway, the crazy conspiracist part of my brain can't help but wonder if the implication is that Fjord is not actually Fjord right now and is actually Vandren somehow, which would be absolutely INSANE. But also kinda cool? But that then bares the question of how much of Fjord is actually Fjord? And that's just a big ol' can of stressful worms to open. Like YIKES.

I LOVE Fjord, so the idea that he's anyone else is really kinda stressful, yet it's also kinda cool?

Of course, I also 100% think I HAVE to be wrong with both ends of the thought process because I can't imagine I successfully could predict what's going to happen if it still hasn't been revealed.

Either way, I definitely don't think that it's been 46 episodes of a guy pretending to be Fjord even if crazy conspiracist brain thinks it's a strange possibility.

I LOVE going insane like this over stuff!

I love Fjord, and I love his arc. I love this mystery. It's crazy and really freakin' cool. And just ahh!!

Why Bubbline will never be canon - and that's okay! Excuse the self-assured title, but I wanted it to be eye-catching. To put out a disclaimer right off the bat, know that I have no problem with people who ship Bubbline, or Bubbline as a concept. Nor am I saying this is 100% true.Everything you're about to read is my own interpretation of Princess Bubblegum's relationship with Finn and Marceline - a culmination of what I've gathered from how they are portrayed, and hard evidence in the show itself and the staff surrounding it.To put it out there right now: I wouldn't care if I'm dead wrong and the show confirms Bubbline in the finale. I would nod my head and go, "Okay, so it is," and reexamine their relationship in light of this new information. All I'm doing here is offering my own insight - because I've been going back and forth with /u/leusid about this for a while, and decided many on this sub would find my ramblings interesting, or at least insightful.I'm aware it's hard to see anything outside of this perspective after it's felt confirmed for so many years, but understand mine as I explain the rest of my reasoning.So here's what I believe: Bubbline has never, and will never, be canon - furthermore, the series may end with Fubblegum.Fucking nuts, right? Why would I think such a thing, when the writers have dropped copious amounts of Bubbline fuel, and Fubblegum's been effectively dead since season 3?!(Can I just say I hate using these stupid ship names? I just do because people know what I'm referring to with a single word.)To address the elephant in the room: the hints. They're so obvious, why would the writers put them there if it wasn't canon!? Well, here's the thing - this show is well-written, and every line and scene is crafted with thought and intent; the characters, despite their strangeness, are very human and real in how they grow and interact. We all know this, but I'm emphasizing it because I agree that - yes - all of those scenes were intentional.Because I think the writers are just fucking with y'all, and I wouldn't put it past them to do that.Everyone interpreted What Was Missing to have Bubbline hints - despite Rebecca's song "I'm Just Your Problem" being a personal song she wrote about how she once felt toward her coworkers working on the show, which is followed by "Best Friends in the World." Despite her work on Steven Universe, I don't think she would just decide to make two main characters gay unless the entire staff, and Ward, agreed upon it.The next time we get any teasing, it's in Sky Witch - and the ONLY tease is Bubblegum sniffing the fuck outta that shirt (which I will talk about further down). Everything from then on was framed in a romantic lens, when in truth, you can just as easily see their interactions as a close, special friendship. From the moment I heard it, Marcy's line from Ketchup - "If that's how you interpret it" - just feels like the writers addressing everyone who reads Bubbline in their interactions.There's three specific instances I've discussed regarding implications of Bubbline in the show, and will use to explain why I interpret their relationship the way I do: a little moment in Broke His Crown, the aforementioned shirt, and that scene with Finn and Bubblegum everyone seems to forget about.First, this moment in Broke His Crown. You have to keep in mind that when creating a show, whether it's live action or a storyboarded cartoon, every character movement is done with intent or purpose. That's just how this medium conveys its story and characters.So with that in mind, take this into account: Gunther, Bonnie, Marceline and Simon are navigating the maze of the crown, trying to find the source of its corruption. In the establishing shot they are walking in this order.But as soon as dialogue starts, it's something private and personal between Simon and Marceline, and it keeps the focus on them. You have to keep in mind that this is the first time Bonnie has encountered the man - and this episode is her finally coming to emotionally understand why Ice King is so important to Marceline.This is important because, when in the next shot with Bubblegum, she's walking beside Gunther, smiling, hand on the back of his head - something interesting about that is she doesn't quite interact with him like Marceline does throughout the episode. She just meekly waves goodbye to him at the end, even. It's not because she dislikes Gunther, but she lacks the connection to him that Marceline does, for a number of personal reasons I bet - primary reason he's just data in a piece of equipment she'll likely never meet again.But this setup is important because it shows that Bonnie respects this is a personal moment for Marcy and Simon, and is giving them some privacy. When Simon asks Marcy if she has a boyfriend, she gives a loud, sharp laugh due to Ash being the only boyfriend she's ever had - her only romantic partner - and he was quite the shitpiece.Many have interpreted Bonnie's reaction here as relief that she doesn't have a boyfriend. But Bonnie doesn't grin to herself like this, as she's already smiling. She only looks over because of this laugh, and turns the moment Marceline says "No" - a sign that she was interested in Marceline's reaction, and also was listening to their dialogue the whole time. When she realizes it's all in good nature from Marceline, she resumes to her previous position of looking ahead alongside Gunther with a smile.If there truly were any intentional romantic implications to this scene, then Bonnie would have looked over as soon as Simon asked that question, and looked away smiling after Marceline said "No."And I was going to mention him anyway, but Ash is one of the reasons why I don't see Bubbline happening. If there was something in the past, Marcy would have likely told Simon. That's not hard evidence but it's more to the contrary of the ship like I believe, as I don't think Marcy would lie to Simon about PB being her girlfriend at one point (or even currently, as some people insanely believe). Ash was Marceline's only romantic partner, and it proves why she, as a person, is not ready for such a thing.The thing about Marceline's character is she craves healthy companionship, with anybody. Throughout her life she's only lost people she cared about, and her early life is what shaped her into the emotionally aloof punk we know and love in pre-Stakes Adventure Time. Ash was one of many instances that shows just how broken Marceline is inside - where she endured and blinded herself to someone who was clearly abusing her, not physically but emotionally - solely because she didn't want to be alone again.If that isn't telling, Marceline even lied to Simon about the nature of their breakup: she didn't dump him because he was a jerk, though that's the heart of it simplified to the max. She dumped him because he betrayed her trust and sold something that was beloved to her - but she doesn't have that specific memory anymore, only the knowledge that he took it away so she'd still be with him.Ash was more than a jerk, and Marceline didn't break up with him because of that. Even though Bonnie isn't Ash, obviously, it's clear that neither Marceline nor the Princess were ever in a healthy emotional state to endure a serious relationship. It's so much more telling, and fitting, that they had their ugly breakup in a friendship sense in the past.Take Marcy's history and person into account, and then take Bubblegum's: she's only ever had the Candy People as her friends, her whole life is dedicated to preserving their's, and she's immortal. Because of these factors it was hard to finally be a real friend with someone who was her equal, just as it was for Marceline, and that's why they had a falling out that, only by the end of Varmints, has finally started to mend itself, and that's because of the friendship they share with Finn.Because a friendship between these two would be incredibly positive for both of them. Although they are very different on the outside, deep inside these two share many spiritual similarities: they have trouble expressing their emotions, yet both have a boundless capacity to care; they're both teenagers, and immortal. Both have gone through untold trials and tribulations that have resulted in their emotional isolation. Since Varmints, Marceline has come to understand why Bubblegum is the way she is, and since Sky Witch, or even What Was Missing, really, Bubblegum's better understood why Marceline is the way she is.Or perhaps not - perhaps long before that. I think Bonnie never had a problem with Marceline (in fact, given how lonely she is, and her rebuttal in What Was Missing, I'm sure she loved the friendship she had with her, and was deeply hurt and confused when she was driven away by an apparent lack of caring).Which brings me to another point: the shirt.First off, before we get into anything about that, I wanna address the smelling - as people bring it up a lot. It's so easy to just look at the scene and not think about it - we see a shirt Marceline gave Bubblegum, and she's just smelling the F out of it. Clearly this has romantic connotations to it, up until you actually think about it and what that means if there really was true romantic intent behind her actions here.Because if there were, then that means she's smelling Marceline's scent, and that makes no goddamn sense, because Marceline obviously doesn't, and hasn't, worn that shirt. I mean maybe I'm weird but I've smelled my own clothes before - and Bonnie's weirder. Her own bubblegum-aroma's ingrained in that thing by now, she wears it every night for Christ's sake.This is probably the exact line of thinking the writers had when making Sky Witch. What you don't know about writers, is they think, a lot, about what they're writing. Any one that has a bit of pride cares about what they're putting out, so I'm sure this has crossed their mind and they knew people would read romance into it because Bubbline is massively popular. People were obviously going to be looking for more fuel for their ship, given that it was the first episode they had together since, but when you take this moment out, the entire episode is just Bubblegum and Marceline on an adventure.I think that was a mistake honestly, because people just saw the rest of the episode through a romantic lens and really missed the excellently crafted dynamic between these two characters - really told a lot about how they viewed and interacted with each other at the time.Now the shirt: I think with everything I've said, it's even more important to both characters that it's a symbol of their friendship.Take my little analysis of them into account, and you'll see why such a friendship is not only an incredibly positive influence on the both of them, but also very important for both their happiness. Stakes, among everything that it accomplished for Marceline's character, also casually displayed why Bonnie is important to her, and vice versa. It isn't in the forefront, but we see in their actions and interactions with each other that they have the ability to be such great friends to one another - and in Marcy's dream, her desire is to live her life being Bubblegum's best friend. And from what Bonnie offers at the end, this is something she wishes for as well. Marceline conceding that they may now be "together forever" shows how much of a growing experience Stakes was for her.I know blushing typically has romantic connotations to it, and Bonnie did so twice in the miniseries: when Marceline tells her this, and when she calls her "nice and pink", though Bubblegum focuses on the "nice" aspect, thinking she actually means nice, as a person. You have to keep in mind that from PB's perspective, at this stage in their friendship, although they've made amends she probably still thinks Marceline is bitter with her - she acknowledges in Varmints how awful she's treated her, after all, and I'm sure she hasn't forgotten about it with a single wave of the hand from Marceline. So these two statements by her must have made Bonnie feel forgiven.So the shirt Marceline gave her, from Princess's perspective, was more important to her than Hambo was to Marcy - something whose significance we are fully aware of.According to Maja, who is the head mistress on all things emotional, that has greater value to PB than a doll Marceline was given by the father figure who'd saved her and was inevitably lost.To me, this just tells me how important Marceline's friendship is to Bonnie. Marcy's one of the few real friends she'd ever had in her long, long life - and I've hammered to death already why that's significant. You're right, Bonnie isn't an emotional person - but she shows so much through her actions, all throughout the series. Look at the lengths she's willing to go to protect the Candy People, her appreciation and value of Finn - even in Broke His Crown, how she doesn't hesitate to help Ice King because she knows how important he is to Marceline.Actions speak louder than words, and Bubblegum understands this better than anybody, even if she herself doesn't realize this. And someone giving her a gift? What was probably the first gift she ever got, and it was from one of the first real friends she ever had? It makes sense why the shirt was valued so for Bonnie - why she wore it every night as a pajama shirt (which, according to Marceline, she never, ever seen her wore).And finally we come to Finn, and I'm going to make that a separate post later in the day.Hope you enjoyed my ramblings, and at least learned a thing or two about your favorite character. Oh, and Marceline too.

Save that which was Lost

“Save that which was Lost” - 32nd Sunday after Pentecost, Sunday of Zacchaeus Luke 19:10 - For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. (KJV) What was lost? I’ll offer some thoughts on that in this sermon. In my last sermon, I talked about how quantum physics has revealed God in every atom of our being. We literally would not exist unless the energies of God were constantly sustaining our existence. Our existence and that of the entire universe is not just a one-and-done kind of a deal- God is ever present with us through his energies and, of course, as the Holy Spirit in believers. As St. Paul affirms, “... in him we live, move, and have our being…” Acts 17:28 (ESV). This is not just a theological fact, it is also a scientific fact. Now we're going to look up, like Zacchaeus did, and see God in the Big Picture- in the cosmic Edenic Plan of salvation. "Save that which was lost.” Like so many things our Lord says, he packs dynamite into simple little statements that can be easy to gloss over. When you probe his statements just a little with your mind and heart, they explode! This is one of those statements. It is an eschatological statement-- concerning ultimate things, the consummation of God's of plan for our salvation with Christ's incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, the gift of the Holy Spirit, his return, our glorification, and the restoration of Eden-- the New Israel. Let’s unpack all this. So what was lost? Well, if you’re a Jew living in that Second Temple period, Christ’s statement would have elicited several things in your mind that were lost: The united kingdom of Israel and their lands The tribe of Israel along with the 9 other tribes when Judah returned from Babylonian exile The original Eden where the Most High God and his heavenly hosts lived together with humans But, of course, it’s bigger than all of these. Adam and Eve broke communion with God in Eden and were cast out. Theologically, now there was a separation between God and humans. The Eden story-- and the rest of the Bible-- shows a connection between geography and communion with God but not in the way most of us think about it. It’s much bigger than a patch of earth delineated as the location of the garden of Eden. The theological message of the Bible, with the land conquests in the OT (militarily) and NT (by spreading the Good News of Christ’s Resurrection), is a retaking of the fallen world where we are partners with God in this conquest. As we’ll see in a bit, the Fall affected far more than just Eden or planet earth-- the entire known universe was affected. The reconquista of our universe begins here on planet Earth, Ground Zero for the Fall. This is Divine Geography. When Adam and Eve partook of forbidden knowledge in Eden, death entered the world. Romans 5:12 “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men…” (ESV). Another way we see that death has entered the world is in thermodynamics where everything tends toward maximum disorder and the lowest lowest energy level. Engineers call this Entropy. We actually use it to design refrigeration systems (Fun Fact to Know and Tell). Entropy is a manifestation of death. It takes a constant input of energy to counteract entropy. A simple example: a living person dies and their body begins to decay. The cells of their body break down to molecules and the molecules to atoms, the lowest energy state with maximum disorder (entropy) of their former body. The entire known universe operates under this Law of Entropy (emphasis on "known"). So at the Fall, death entered the entire known universe. The universe is vast and old. They don't know how vast because they don't see an edge or anything like that but there are about 15 billion stars. The Big Bang occurred about 14 billion years ago. A tiny point of matter inflated rapidly to form what we know as the universe today. Because of the effects of entropy, energy loss, gravity, etc., scientists expected to find that the rate of expansion of the universe was slowing. They actually found something profoundly shocking: the expansion of the universe is accelerating! So scientists did some more probing and number crunching and deduced the existence of this thing called Dark Matter and Dark Energy (DM/DE) throughout the universe. These are not theological terms. They called it DM/DE because we can't measure or detect it directly with any of our current instruments. Now here's the kicker: turns out that everything that we can see and detect with instruments in the entire vast universe is only about 5% of everything else that's out there! The other 95% is this DM/DE. As I mentioned, we can't measure or see it directly- its existence is deduced by the effects it has on what we can see. The existence of DM/DE explains why the rate of expansion of the known universe is increasing instead of decreasing. So then what is this stuff we call DM/DE that comprises the other 95% of the universe? Bottom line answer: we don't know. It does not seem conform to our known laws of physics- otherwise we could detect it directly. This is also evidenced by the fact that the rate of expansion of the known universe is increasing, contrary to our known laws of physics. It’s important to point out, too, that this DM/DE stuff-- whatever it is-- doesn’t exist “out there” somewhere, as though our known universe is in a bubble. No, the DM/DE “universe” is interpenetrated with our universe. It’s in the room with you right now. Here's a thought: maybe the DM/DE part of the universe was unaffected by the Fall-- not subject to death and entropy-- and the universe we do see and detect is in a type of quarantine. Maybe the plan for us, as human image-bearers of the Most High God, is to redeem the known (fallen) universe from quarantine and re-join the rest of the universe, to re-join the heavenly hosts there. This kind of gives a whole new perspective on St. Paul's account of being caught up in the third heaven: “I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows.” 2 Corinthians 12:2-4 (ESV) Also gives a whole new perspective on who Christ is and the real scope and meaning of the catholic or universal church. Isn't it amazing that, in all our astronomical searching, we've never found any other detectable life in the known, vast universe? Maybe it’s because, as a result of the Fall, we either killed it or prevented it from coming into existence in the first place. Maybe the DM/DE universe is teeming with life! Maybe this is the unseen realm of angels and all the other heavenly hosts “invisibly present here with us.” What were Adam and Eve doing in Eden? They were gardening, of course. In the ancient Near East conception-- a desert culture-- gardening wasn't just mowing lawns and trimming hedges. It was tending new and precious life! Our divine destiny, as human imagers of the Most High God, is to nurture new life throughout the universe- the New Eden and the original Edenic vision. It was God’s plan for us from the beginning. It's a holy and awesome job that we are called to do. We are to minister to that life and be their priests, offering them up to God. We will name them, like Adam did-- we give them meaning. That is our priestly role and destiny as the body of Christ. In other words, we will be going to the stars just not in the way science fiction portrays it, which is really just a modern, high tech aspiration of the old motive behind the Tower of Babel. No, we will be doing it with God and according to his original Edenic vision. In our lives as Christians right now, we are still gardeners. We are practicing for our destiny as cosmic gardeners when we’ll be nurturing new life all over the universe. We do this now in our lives by nurturing the life of Christ in our own lives, in each other, and in non-believers. We are gardeners of our own hearts through prayer, fasting, repentance, studying scripture, all the other spiritual disciplines the church gives us. We are gardeners for each other by coming together for worship and in fellowship by affirming and encouraging each other in the faith. As St. Paul says in Ephesians 5:19 “...addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs…” (ESV). In other words, avoiding vain, empty, or divisive talk when we come together as the Body of Christ. And we are gardeners for non-believers in our lives by not hiding our faith or being ashamed of it but rather sharing it with them, planting the seed of faith in Christ. We heard an interesting verse in the Epistle today: 1 Tim 4:9 “...because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.” (ESV) Savior of all people. Hmm, sounds like universal salvation so no problems, right? All paths up the mountain lead to the same peak? Actually, no. This is not a statement of universalism. Rather, it is a statement of uniqueness. As in, “there is no other savior for anyone.” In other words, this other group of people “over there” doesn't have a different savior. And there's no other “savior” coming later. Christ is it. This is why we say we're living in the end times. Imagine you are suspended in space and you’re looking at a planet that’s covered in thick, black, scabby plates. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a point of light like a comet rapidly zoom in and pierce the scabby sheath over the planet. You keep watching for the longest time and nothing seems to be happening. Finally, the black scabby covering is blown off and the most brilliant light bursts forth from the planet, extending instantly throughout the entire universe. All things are made new and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by legions of luminous beings that you’ve never encountered before. They tell you that they’ve been here all along but you couldn’t see them until just now. In the story, the planet is our Earth, the comet is Christ, the transformational explosion of light is his glorious second coming, and the luminous beings are the heavenly hosts, the kingdom of heaven. We are living in that period of time from when the comet enters the planet to the explosion of light. That is why we say we are living in the End Times. The cure (Christ’s incarnation) has been administered and is doing its work. We are part of that work. The cure must work through us and with us, as believers, as the body of Christ. When is Christ coming back? Wrong question! Since we are in the end times now, the right question is what should we, as the believing and faithful Body of Christ be doing? I’ve already touched on that point. We are blessed and privileged to be living in this unique and final chapter in human history. It also means that, as Christians knowing the truth, more will be expected of us. We are created in the image of the Most High God. This means we are free, as in we have free will and are free to make choices. But, although we have free will, we are not free agents. In other words, we are not sovereigns. We will belong either to Christ or to a high order angelic being who is in rebellion to Christ (and who has already been judged, condemned, and defeated by the Cross). Colossians 2:14 “...by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.” (ESV) Ephesians 6:12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. (ESV) The Satan-- the adversary, the lord of the dead-- has a claim on every soul that comes in the world. This is why in the last line of the Lord's prayer we ask God to deliver us from the evil one. What's the first thing we do before every Baptism? An exorcism. Why? To release that claim of the adversary. Once released, we are not free to go on our merry way as though we are unattached. As our Lord tells us: “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first. So also will it be with this evil generation.” Matthew 12:43-45 (ESV). Once released from the claim of the enemy we turn right around and "put on" Christ in Holy Baptism and so pass over from death to life because we have entered into the Resurrection by faith. That faith is our choice to make-- it is how we “opt in” to God’s plan of salvation. We are free to choose either death with the lord of the dead or life in Christ, the giver of life. There is no other choice. But we are free to make that choice. Not making a choice IS making a choice... for death. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 (ESV) In other words, the only other option is death. So choose life! Okay, how do we do this? Zacchaeus shows us the way. We stop being obsessed with the mundane things of the world and look up. Each of us climbs the tree of our own cross and fixes our eyes (hearts and minds) on Christ. This means we have to stop living like the Gentiles, preoccupied with earthly cares-- what will I eat? what will I drink? who got elected?-- and instead start living the new life in Christ and telling others the good news about Christ. Simply being baptized and taking communion does not guarantee that we will be cosmic gardeners in the new Eden. As the Lord said through Isaiah, “... this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me..." Isaiah 29:13 (ESV). Where are our hearts when our lips approach the chalice? Not just at that moment, but all the other moments throughout each day of the week? It's not enough to pay lip service to believing in Christ- that belief has to inform and shape the thoughts we allow to dwell in our hearts and minds, the kinds of things we pay attention to, that we allow to enter our minds, the kinds of things we talk about, and what we actually do. It is a daily walk with the Lord that informs and permeates everything in our life. Baptism and communion are awesome gifts but we still have to do our part. Our Greek fathers called this synergia- a cooperative working with God. Zacchaeus' heart was already converted before he even climbed the tree; he had already repented. Think about it: Jesus had just healed Bartimaeus near Jericho where Zacchaeus lived so no doubt everyone was talking about him as the Messiah. Everyone had heard of him, which is why Bartimaeus called out to him “Son of David”- another Messianic title. The Lord knew the heart of Zacchaeus just as he had earlier known Nathanael’s (Jn. 1:48). That's why he called Zacchaeus in the first place. Zacchaeus' announcement of restitution to Christ were confessions of something that was already a reality in his life. He believed in Christ which prompted words and action- repentance. His announcement of restitution and a radical change in his life and behavior were tangible fruits of his repentance. St. Zacchaeus accompanied St. Peter on his travels and followed him to Caesarea. Peter appointed him the Bishop of Caesarea in Palestine. He was living the new life in Christ, preaching the Gospel and shepherding others in the new life-- living the life of a cosmic gardener right here, right now. We commemorate St. Zacchaeus on April 20. Holy Hierarch Zacchaeus, pray for us sinners! Rdr. Socratis Holy Resurrection Orthodox Church Claremont, NH January 2017