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kikis-writing-world · 3 years

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Think Happy Thoughts

Summary: Poe is resisting the interrogation techniques of The First Order after Kylo Ren captures him on Jakku. The main way he’s keepng sane: thinking of you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F! Organa/Solo Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Rating/Warnings: Vague descriptions of torture, blood and pain. It’s set in the interrogation scene of TFA from Poe’s POV so... SMUT there is like, 1.5 sentences of Smut, but it’s there! lol No beta/editing as usual.

A/N: So this isn’t as lighthearted as that post, but I once posted a joke about Poe sleeping with Kylo Ren’s sibling and he finds out when he’s probing Poe’s memories for the map. I like how this turned out though and I have an idea for a follow up with Poe and F! Organa/Solo Reader.

Poe wasn’t sure if there was any part of his body that didn’t ache. They’d sent in trooper after trooper, droids, officers - it felt like the whole First Order had come through the room, all looking to get information from him. He gave none. When they slapped, punched, zapped, threatened- he didn’t give in. Every new form of interrogation or torture they rolled out, he grit his teeth through the pain and hit them with some smart-ass quip. He wished his voice held more bite and less pain, but he wasn’t going to let up.

He was scared but he wasn’t going to show these sons of banthas that. He didn’t like his odds of making it home this time. Shackled to the interrogation table he couldn’t talk, shoot or fly his way out of this one. All he could do is try to protect the information he had and hope they grew tired of him being uncooperative sooner rather than later. He wasn’t worried about himself, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about others.

BB-8, wandering around Jakku. His Dad, who already lost his wife to the war. Leia, who had lost so many people over her lifetime. You…

God, he hated that he would be leaving you behind. You both knew the risks of this damned war, both understood the likelihood of the two of you living happily ever after grew slimmer with each mission. You two never promised to make it back to the other, knowing one day it was likely going to become a promise you couldn’t keep. Despite every logical part of your minds knowing this was a possibility, he knew that you would be heartbroken.

He shook away the thought, trying not to dwell on the image of you collapsing into Leia’s arms as you sobbed. As you grieved him. Instead he tried to focus on the time he had been lucky enough to spend with you. Glances shared in the dining hall. Quiet moments snuck out of base, exploring the surrounding terrain. Moments holding each other when one of you returned back to base after a dangerous mission.

The relationship had been secret at first. It had made sense at the time, neither of you wanting to flaunt your found happiness when the galaxy was feeling the pressures of the war. Both of you had seen how the war affected the relationships of your parents and the friends around you. He was more scared to tell Leia than you were.

“Of course she’ll be fine with this, she loves you!” You would laugh, trying to assuage his worries.

“That’s what makes it worse. I’ve got nowhere to go but down.”

You had been right, of course. When the two of you finally broke the news to her, she just smiled that knowing smile of hers. Of course she already knew. There wasn’t much on this base she didn’t know about, let alone her daughter and her best pilot falling in love. She warned you both, telling you it wasn’t easy to love during a war, but supported the happiness you had found in each other nonetheless-

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.”

Poe lifted his head from the table as his thoughts were interrupted, not needing his eyes to adjust to recognize the inky black mask of Kylo Ren. It took a moment to see only one of him, instead of three.

“Comfortable?”

Despite his fatigue, the ache that radiated down to his bones, the sinking of his stomach at the sight of the man, he knew he had to keep strong. Even if it was just on the outside. “Not really.”

Unbothered, Ren continued. “I'm impressed. No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” The expressionless helmet stared down at Poe, trying to intimidate him.

Poe almost wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t quite get the air into his lungs. “Might wanna rethink your technique.” He challenged.

There was a beat of silence. Poe forced himself to keep staring at the blank mask. It was unnerving, but he would never back down to this coward who wouldn’t even show his face.

Ren moved his hand slowly, raising it in front of Poe. He shifted in his restraints, preparing for the torture to continue. Ren never touched him, but he felt something regardless.

He grunted, trying to shake off the feeling. A buzzing in his ears, a pressure in his skull. He fought against it and it only got worse. The pressure changed to a near stabbing feeling. Millions of pinpricks in his brain. His ears filled with sounds, his mind’s eye seeing images- Ren was in his head. Digging through his memories, searching for the information he was keeping from them.

Poe forced himself to think elsewhere, just like he had for the other torture he’d gone through. It was always easier to ignore the pain when he thought of you. Thought of protecting you.

His head crashed back into the headrest, but he wasn’t sure if he had done that or Ren had. He whimpered at the growing pressure. Everytime his memories focused on you, it felt like someone flipped a switch for a different memory. Always back to the village on Jakku.

Your smaller hand in his as you walked through the hanger together- Lor San Tekka’s hut- Your smiling face, lit by the tiny candles he’d smuggled into the dorms as he tried to treat you to a candlelit dinner- The kindly older man handing him the leather satchell-

“Where is it?” Ren demanded, trying to follow the memory. Trying to make Poe follow the memory of that leather sack.

You, in his lap in the cockpit of his X-Wing, squealing and holding onto him as you begged him to go faster- his X-Wing, still on Jakku- Trying to tell the man to hide before The First Order arrived- Your lips on his, your soft cheek under his palm as your fingers tangle in his curls, you taste like caf and candy-

“The Resistance,” Poe grunted, breathing heavily as he tried to keep control of his own thoughts. He swore, he could taste caf and candy over the coppery taste of his own blood. “Will not be intimidated by you.”

The pressure increased, making him squirm.

Running through the desert, the satchel heavy in his hand. He can feel the wind in his hair- not the wind, your hands running through his hair as he kisses down your neck- it tastes like the desert, of the sand that catches the breeze. He runs to the X-Wing, sweating in the desert heat even at night- sweat drips down his neck as he thrusts into you. You’re under him, gripping his arms as you whine his name up at him. Your own skin shines with sweat in the dimly lit room, warm skin flush against him. He moans your name back to you-

He can’t explain it, but he feels the energy change. The pressure in his head goes from a pulling to a pushing. Instead of pulling the memories of Jakku forward, he’s pushing the memories of you away. The feeling of you being pushed away sits heavy in his gut.

“Where... is it?” Ren demands once more.

You’re laughing at his joke- you’re shot on the training course- you’re putting up your hair- you’re bleeding from a cut on your hand- the X-wing’s engines sputter- you’re crying- you’re laughing- you’re screaming while warning alarms go off- BB beeps-

He can’t keep up with the images swirling in his mind. Happy memories of you. Upsetting memories of you. Jakku. BB-8. The Map. Poe Screams as he fights it.

“You take this. It's safer with you than it is with me.”

It doesn’t stop. The memory doesn’t switch. It plays like a holovid in his head and he has no control over it.

“You get as far away from here as you can. Do you hear me? I'll come back for you! It will be alright.”

All at once it’s gone. The memories, the pressure, the pain. He can barely breath, he feels dizzy. Black spots creep into his vision - is what he’s seeing real, or is it another memory? He’s not sure.

“The best pilot in the Resistance will be the reason they fall,” Ren mocked. Poe could barely hear him over the rushing of blood in his own ear. “Did you get that title through skill, or did it come with fucking the Princess of the Resistance?”

Poe sputtered, feeling like he was going to be sick. He wanted to talk back, to say something to defend himself, to defend you. He physically couldn’t.

“Don’t worry,” Ren chuckled darkly as Poe’s consciousness started to fade. “I’ll make sure my darling sister knows you thought of her right up until you gave away the information that kills them all.”

Sister?

Poe collapsed against the interrogation table, unconscious.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz

#Poe Dameron x Reader #Poe Dameron x F!Reader #Poe Dameron x Organa/Solo Reader #Poe Dameron imagine #Poe Dameron fanfic #Poe Dameron drabble #WookieTales #Poe Dameron #Lemony Fresh

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lallivaesterstroem · 3 years

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Emil and Lalli. Stargazing. Emil tries to name all the constellations he knows. Lalli knows all of them, but listens to the Swede anyway.

ANON ILUSM FOR ASKING this is such a wonderfully sweet prompt i just had to take it the extra mile and it got away from me once again :’)) so this is waaaay too long for a ficlet LOL but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

EDIT: A BETTER VERSION OF THIS IS NOW UP ON AO3, GO GIVE IT SOME LOVE this will stay up for posterity tho<3

quick summary: Emil and Lalli meet up in a a dream. The night sky is too beautiful to ignore.

Lalli knew the colours spilling around him as well as he knew himself. He blinked once, twice, watched the familiar forest and lake take shape, molding slowly into a place he called his own. Then came the gentle noise of water, the rustling of branches and chirping of birds, and he could smell the pine surrounding him. He could sit here in silence, look into the water, wait for a sign and hopefully receive none. And so the mage sat up, arms resting on his knees and head hung low, listening to the sounds of forest, waiting for-

Someone else was here. Not a spirit, he could feel that much, a someone.

He stood up quickly, hoping to all the gods that it was neither braid guy nor Onni- he wanted nothing more than to be alone tonight- which only left the category of ‘things that want to kill him’ open. One hand reaching for his dagger, the other pushing his fur coat away, he spun around, looking for the source of the disturbance.

Emil was standing on the shore, glowing in the speckles of light passing through the branches, confused but smiling, and the moment he saw him, the ground opened up under them.

Once the dust had settled, he found himself on a grassy cliff with a steep slope, overlooking nothing but darkness, one of thousands around the world, yet somehow still familiar. Emil was a few feet away from him, looking around frantically. It dawned on Lalli that it was probably that hill they climbed in Reykjavik, that long day in the pouring rain, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to wonder why they ended up there, why it seemed to have been split in half, why it was the dead of night. The shock still hadn’t quite worn off. Emil had never appeared in his dream before, not like this, not in his dream. They’d always end up in a place like this, in-between together. Never in his space.

When he turned to Emil again, just to make sure they were both still in one piece, his friend was looking up for some reason.

“Your dream has a sky?” he said, and it sounded less like a question aimed at Lalli and more like thinking out loud, as if he were trying to get to the bottom of a problem.

“Of course. Everything has a sky.”

“I guess I just never thought about it before,” Emil said, still craning his neck, still in that distracted tone, his eyes wide in a strange sort of wonder. Lalli didn’t get it, really. He could see the real light-speckled veil covering the Earth any time he wished, and there was nothing special about the one appearing in dreams. The stars, glittering gold forged by the sky-smith, were now a mere image in their minds, dream-approximation, not worth dwelling on this much.

Lalli looked into the distance instead, trying to make out the shapes- houses but no lights on, a village, indiscernible layout, shifting in the darkness. He couldn’t tell if it was the Icelandic village, or his own hometown, or something else entirely, perhaps a fragment of Emil’s memory. It was like the houses were in the bottom of a murky lake, roofs submerged, waves distorting everything, and by the time it reached his eyes they were unrecognisable. He didn’t dare to peer over the edge of the cliff, didn’t want to look straight down at whatever may be there. The wind whipped around him, against his face, and for a moment he felt completely alone.

A rustle coming from behind startled him out of his thoughts- Emil, sitting down on the grass, still looking up with that smile on his lips. He said something about knowing ‘a thing or two’ about the stars, pointed upwards at nothing in particular, and Lalli decided to join him. It seemed that there was nothing to look at beyond the dark plunge beneath the cliff, which he’d already scrutinised, and the stars in the sky. He sat next to Emil. He waited.

“See that one? That’s the big dog. Those three stars are the head, and then these are the tail,” Emil gestured, eyes fixed on the night sky.

Iso koira. The easiest to spot, with the brightest star at its head. Emil’s struggle to point it out was a little pathetic and a little adorable, depending on whether Lalli was looking at his fumbling outstretched hand missing the mark or his excited expression, squinting to see better. And then he turned to look at him and that excitement was gone, replaced by a frown.

“You can’t tell where I’m pointing at from there,” he said, fake-upset, “look here.”

Emil’s face was suddenly right next to his, an arm around his shoulder and the other still pointing at the sky, and Lalli froze. Perhaps it was the unexpected touch, the closeness, but something about it made him jump. To his credit, Emil noticed, letting go and moving away, an apology already on his lips. But before he could get to it Lalli inched closer, at his own pace, wanting to say that it’s okay, just let me, hoping his expression would do the trick instead. He just needed to ease into it, and soon enough they were close once again, so Lalli looked up, pointedly avoiding Emil’s gaze, in order to urge him to do the same. Back to the stars.

“And the little dog- huh, shouldn’t it be somewhere around…”

Pieni koira, just a little off to the side, trailing behind Orion. Kaksoset, Härkä, Yksisarvinen. The stars were his constant companions, by his side every night when no one else was. Köli, Ajomies, Virta. His gaze swept across the sky. He knew them by heart.

Not that he’d say a word of it to Emil. It was much more amusing waiting for the realisation, that moment he stops talking and lets the cogs in his head turn: hey, what if that silly Finn who spends all night outside, where the stars are, maybe knows a couple things more about them…

But this was fine too. He didn’t have to think as long as he kept talking. Emil’s hair looked grey in the moonlight but with that same shine, messy from the wind, and Lalli couldn’t help but reach up and tuck a lock behind his ear, just so that it doesn’t bother him. No other reason. Emil turned to look at him for a moment, not enough to read his expression, and then quickly looked away.

“Orion is also, ah, somewhere,” his hand was now flitting between several constellations, none of them the one he was looking for. “This sky is weird. Did you ever notice that? That the dream sky is weird. But you probably already know, because you’re… you know. And I’m so new at this. Not at dreaming! Just, this whole...”

He decided to let Emil ramble nervously until he tired himself out, ending his rant with a frustrated little groan. It was strange that he couldn’t quite focus on the sound of his voice, how he could feel that lilt all Swedes had to their words but still understand him- another peculiarity of dreams he never really noticed until he and Emil became connected like this. Then they were quiet for a couple of heartbeats, taking in the view.

The corner of Lalli’s lips twitched into a smile, as close to softness as he could get. Emil was too busy staring up at the sky to notice. Lalli was too busy looking at him to care.

But something changed moments after. He could feel it in the air, creeping in slowly. Emil’s expression turned melancholy, resigned, and when he finally spoke, he echoed a statement he made a long time ago. This time, he said it with a smile, almost sad, mostly distracted, like he didn’t know the words would come out until he said them: “Makes me not want to wake up tomorrow.”

In the resulting silence, Lalli could hear something from the depths, from the village, and when he looked down, he saw a sliver of orange in the distance, like the stroke of a brush, a splatter. Fire. Emil’s fire. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut, a pain for someone else, something tugging at his heart.

“Why? You’re safe now. You have food and shelter,” he said instead, trying to keep him occupied. Steadying his voice took more effort than he expected, but he didn’t want Emil to notice anything was amiss. It was Lalli’s fault that his dreams were no longer silly meaningless thought-leftovers that played during the night. It was Lalli’s fault he was here in the first place.

“But I’m not… like this. With you,” Emil sounded distant, and he was looking away now, not at the stars and not towards Lalli, but at the ground next to him. Like he was trying to hide his face, but didn’t want to go too far, move too much. Like he was counting the blades of grass beneath them.

Lalli knew that he probably wasn’t talking about… whatever it was that they were. He was surely talking about the feeling of safety, the freedom of dreaming- the fact that they were in it together was simply a byproduct of an accident, his own mistake, surely not something Emil looked forward to, surely-

Lalli bit his tongue. He had to force himself to say it while he still could, before the connection that kept them here crumbled again. Before he had to deal with pouring his feelings into words, then forcing those words into the confines of a language he barely spoke. The wind whistled around them and he knew this was his last chance. He put his hand on top of Emil’s, caressed it with his thumb, not quite knowing what he was doing.

“You could be, if you want to.”

And then the world was plunged into darkness and he could feel reality looming in the edges of his consciousness. He’d deal with the consequences when he woke up.

#emilalli #ssss #sssscomic #stand still stay silent #asks #anon #oh this got away from me so much adnjsnjds it was meant to be a tiny scene and then #the finnish btw is just constellation names #for lalli's brain reasons #anyway i had s o much fun writing this and imagining it and ilu anon <3

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that-one-guy-who-does-the-thing · 5 years

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everyone talkin about the king jumpin off the building at the end of fallen kingdom and how sad it is but everyone is forgetting the part from take back the night where the master villager guy was crushed by the spike flail. like fellas. the king survived. he survived the entire thing, but that master guy is like actually dead.

you know what? time to do a rundown on this original minecraft plus one parody series (take back the night, find the pieces, and dragonhearted are all original songs)

so first of all, let me point out something about fallen kingdom. people dont seem to notice it in the first listen and sometimes they never figure it out but the majority of it is actually a flashback. notice the king’s beard is longer in the night time scenes and everything’s broken. like, of course the king isn’t dead. how would he be walkin around after all that shit happened in the destruction if he was??? anyway, lets move on to something i spent too much time writing.

those songs introduced so many characters that are all unique but arent explored really at all (mostly because the songs dont tell much of a story. just the bare minimum because thats about as much as you can do with minecraft parodies.)

like the guard with the nose itch,

these fellas

and the archer

like you cant really notice it while youre dancing and stuff but these guys are pretty cool to me. notice in the second image of the guard, his mustache is bigger. this shows that time has passed from the flashback on the left and the flashback on the right. it’s showing how the characters age. might just be me but that sort of thing really shows that these characters have lives. the pigs you can tell someone put effort into their designs and the archer you can kind of tell he’s confused and has seemingly never really had to shoot at anyone before

and then onto the more “subtley characterized” characters

the queen

you can tell all the violence is too much for her. she cries as she watches her husband take the sword and go outside. other characters in reaction to the mobs simply grabbed weapons and fought back whereas the queen was just crying. granted we dont see many citizens fighting back against them at all but you get my point.

the three villagers from the search party

you can tell the white and green ones are more experienced. the brown one seems jumpy, frightened, and confused. the white one silently grieves when the green one tells them that the mother is dead.

...and now onto the more heavily focused characters

the pig king

surprisingly, the pig king isn’t really shown to do much other than sit around. they make it seem like he’s the one in charge of everything though. he’s important but he’s not shown as much. just wanted to get him out of the way cause this was a cool screenshot

the pig commander guy

this guy just screams “cocky bastard”. literally every time he’s onscreen he either has a smirk or is reacting to something else. bonus for his little science man on the right. he doesn’t show up again (to my knowledge) but you can tell exactly what kind of character he is. we’ve all seen the “science man raises one finger as the boss ignores him” scene. anyway, back to the cocky guy.

this scene really i think shows his character the best. mustache man here is cornered and afraid and resorts to crying and giving up. this pig guy mocks him for a second before raising his sword.

the trio from the beginning of find the pieces

the chef is another character you can kind of get. like, he’s your basic “happy neighbor pal” or.. or just you know. “the buddy”. he’s sittin there cooking and he’s real happy about it until the hero bursts into the room and he drops the bowl. he takes a second to see who did it and when he sees the hero he laughs about it. like a “ha ha classic hero”. his expression on the bottom is a fading smile after the hero explains a dream he had. this is important for later so hold onto that.

the farmer.

you can tell he’s just done with life. he’s living basically on autopilot at this point. he looks like he’d wear the “i really wish i weren’t here right now” pin. you can kind of see bored and “done with everyone’s shit” and maybe a bit of vague “nostalgia sadness” yknow? also, this is off-topic but this panel makes for a great meme template. go ahead and use it please thank you.

the scientist

honestly? this guy doesnt have any characterization other than “i am the smart”. like he’s just the guy that gets the scroll off the shelf and tells the hero about the kingdom. but i do really like this character nonetheless. you really know exactly what kind of person he is because you’ve seen this kind of person so many times before.

ok so. remember before when i was talking about the chef and told you to remember something? notice the colors of these three’s robes. these might be the same villagers from the search party. this could explain why the hero went to these three villagers and why the cook lost his smile when he heard the hero’s story and why the scientist had a map and knew about the kingdom. the farmer was the confused jumpy guy before but now it seems like nothing can phase him. this might be because he didnt really get to do anything and he wasn’t involved as much because he was just the backpack guy. ‘s also why he doesnt do much here either. that might be a stretch but idc man let me theorize.

also they show up again later

the scientist is the one designing all the iron golems and planning where they patrol during the big fight scene in dragonhearted. the scene is set up in a way that makes it seem like he is crushed and killed by big robo pig herobrine. this is not the case though.

all three are seen later in the final scene. theyre not dead (thank god)

anyway lets talk about the master

sorry for the weird stretching btw i edited all this in paint from screenshots. anyway uhh so the master. you get a little bit of characterization here from him. a lot of these characters are stereotypes but that’s really expected considering this is a minecraft parody series. theres not a whole lot of talking you can do. this guy is literally the master guy in an action comedy. you can tell what kind of action comedy master you get from this scene alone. he makes the hero stew so he’s obviously a very caring master, and the following scene shows that he has a sense of humor, but hides it just to look cool. the moment he notices someone see him laughing he pretends it never happened. also a small detail here i wanna point out real quick. i love that the villagers can separate their arms here, but i ESPECIALLY love when they put them together. like, they dont always do it but they still do. i just love it. anyway...

because of this and the fact that the hero and the master were pretty much the only two in the song for a while there, it actually stings when the master is killed. the hero’s reaction is DEFINITELY a factor in this too. this guy was like a second father to him and now this is the second father he’s lost. FUCK i love these songs SO MUCH. i wonder what it would be like if the master ever met the king

note: i didnt characterize the hero, the king, or herobrine given that they are the main main three characters. you can probably figure out their personalities on your own. (well, almost all of them. herobrine doesnt really have much of one other than “occasionally turns into a disney villain when he finds out the king took the eye out of the portal”)

anyway uh, another thing this series really does is just visuals. cool lookin scenes all over the place here.

like look at this shit. especially the ones from dragonhearted. i think that picture of the golem was used everywhere for a short time and i dont blame them. its an epic shot and i love it.

...and i didnt even include the two classic scenes that you can visualize in your head at any moment

these two moments are so fucking powerful you don’t understand. like look at these. god. shit, this is just.. hhhh i love this series so much. you know, sometimes i like to think of stupid theories... like imagine if revenge was actually part of this series. it has no effect on the story but it seems to follow the same “rules” (all characters are in hardcore mode is a big one). idk maybe they did happen in the same universe but steve is just a great ancestor to the king or something. anyway, thats all the energy i can spend on one post. it took an hour and a half to write this and grab the screenshots. feel free to add on to this list of things we all love about fallen kingdom and the others.

#minecraft #mineblr #fallen kingdom #captainsparklez #take back the night #find the pieces #dragonhearted #minecraft parody #sorry im adding so many tags i just #hhhhh spent a while writing this and i'd love for people to see this #long post

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a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan · 5 years

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Linked Universe Fanfiction ch. 9: Can We Get Back to Adventuring, Please?

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name--Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story--I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 11: Can We Get Back to Adventuring, Please?

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

The Links continue their journey to the next village and now face a dense, dark forest. By the way, have you ever wondered what the Links think of the Timeline? Thus continues my fan narrative of the @linkeduniverse AU. Word count: 1275

“Just a few more minutes, boys!” Wind exclaimed. “We’ll be out of these hills and into the… oh, shoot.”

Legend smirked. “You forgot about the possible swarms of monsters?”

“… Yeah.”

The Links had been walking a shade above three hours since returning to reality. The fire was far from gone from their minds, but they were glad to be rid of this place. They had to admit it was beautiful, though. The noontime sun shone on rolling hills, wind blowing the tall, swaying grass. A few clouds had crept up on the edges of the horizon but showed no sign of raining on their proverbial parade.

As far as Time was concerned, things were back to normal. His companions hadn’t brought up the masks, and they acted no differently towards him than before today. Time suspected they may still have questions but didn’t want to dampen their good mood by asking them. That was fine. They could discuss it more tonight when they were comfortable and safe in an inn.

Wild chuckled. “Relax, Wind. We don’t know for sure if there are any monsters. The woods are just so thick that I can’t get a good reading of it.”

“After yesterday,” Legend began, “I’m not shocked there are limitations to that Slate of yours.”

Wild was about to shoot back a retort when Sky butted in, “Drop it. We got out of there safely.”

“Thanks to you, Sky.” Hyrule said.

“You can thank Fi,” he replied, patting the Master Sword’s hilt above his right shoulder. “She was the one that guided us.”

“She is quite the sword,” Time added. Secretly, he hated the Master Sword. He saw it as a curse, one of the many factors that led to his childhood suffering. However, it was a blessing to the other six of them that wielded it. He felt it best not to sully their opinion of it.

“Fi helped me too, once,” Wild said.

Sky looked at the back of Wild’s head; the latter had the map and was leading the group. He thought Fi had only ever spoken to him. He wasn’t offended, per se, more shocked than anything. “Really?”

“I was mortally wounded when Calamity Ganon struck my Hyrule a century ago. Zelda thought I was doomed, but the Master Sword glowed and sort of sang to her. That let her know I could still be saved. I suppose I owe Fi my life.”

“Huh,” Sky replied. He drew the sword. Its silver blade reflected the sun brighter than the others’ swords, save for the Four Sword. He smiled. “Heh, I wouldn’t expect any less of her.”

Given he himself had forged the Master Sword, Sky gathered that his adventure somehow took place before any of the others’. It still confused him how they all could coexist. By reciting the legends and history they knew, they figured out a somewhat cohesive, yet confounding, chain of events.

Sky forged the Master Sword and Hyrule had yet to be established. He was clearly first. Time witnessed the split of the Triforce, so he must be next. Based on the historical texts in Hyrule Castle, Twilight seemed to live centuries after Time. Over their time together, Twilight began to see eerie similarities between Time and the ghostly Hero’s Shade who mentored him. He preferred to ignore them for his own sanity’s sake.

It all got muddier after that. Time had suspected Zelda sending him back in time had somehow disrupted the flow of time. Lo and behold, Wind seemed to also live centuries after Time, but Hyrule had been flooded. His legends told of a Hero of Time that disappeared when he was needed. Time wondered whether Wind lived in the world that Zelda sent him away from.

Even more disturbing was Legend’s story. In his world, Ganon was sealed away by the seven sages, but not a hero. In this alternate reality, could Time have perished in his fight against Ganon? Hyrule had heard vague legends of a legendary sword, but never figured it was the Master Sword until he met his other selves. Strangely, Warrior and Wild somehow seemed to hail from a melding of everyone else’s worlds.

Four was the most peculiar case. Neither the Triforce nor the Master Sword seemed to exist in his world. Instead, there were the Picori bestowing the Light Force upon the Hylians. The concept of it all utterly confused the Links. After trying to piece it together, they never mentioned it again.

Sky was snapped out of his thoughts of multiple timelines and realities when Warrior said suddenly, “Well, it’s about time.”

They had reached the top of a hill and were faced with a tall, dense forest. The heroes couldn’t see the village beyond, but figured the treetops were obscuring it. Wild frowned. He thought they would be able to see it based on map’s elevation readings. He hooked the Sheikah Slate back on his belt.

He withdrew his paraglider from his pouch, gripped one handle with his left hand, and knelt on the ground. In a flash, ghostly flames appeared around Wild. He jumped. An updraft carried him a hundred feet in the air, a hazy image of a Rito soaring up with him. His paraglider holding him aloft, he got a better view of their surroundings.

Satisfied, Wild returned to the ground. Despite seeing him use this ability several times before, the others were still awed by the sight. The concept of fallen warriors imparting this and three other powers upon him was foreign. Time’s experience with his masks was similar, but Wild’s seemed much more wholesome in nature.

“Don’t worry, I can see the tops of buildings way down there,” Wild confirmed. “Five or so hours in there and we’ll be through.”

“Wait, wait,” Warrior said. “Let’s think this through. We do not want another ambush on our hands.”

Wind groaned. He found Warrior’s obsessions with plans and tactics annoying. Time shot him a look. Wind saw it and stood at attention.

Warrior continued, “Legend, arrow count.”

Thinking back to last night, he remembered that he had counted the arrows before going to bed. That seemed so long ago. “Uh… oh, right. Forty-two.”

“Hm… four each. Wild, you’re our best archer, you need more. Volunteers?”

Sky shrugged. “Aye. I’m better with a sword anyway.”

“Seconded,” Time said.

“Third…ed?” Wind flubbed.

A chuckle spread across the group. Fighting back more laughter, Warrior composed himself. “Okay, Wild, take sixteen. Make them count.”

Wild nodded.

“Legend, Twilight, Four, Hyrule. Take four each. I’ll take five.”

Legend pulled their stash of arrows out of his pouch and divvied them up. Warrior came up last and took the remaining five. They fit their ammunition in their quivers. “Right, next order of business,” Warrior continued. “Twi, transform and take point. We need your senses. Wild, I want you behind him with two arrows nocked. Fire at Twi’s mark. Sky, cover them. Everyone else, fall in behind them. I’ll take up the rear. Keep your eyes on the shadows. It looks pretty dark in there, so everyone grab a lantern. We’re low on oil, so let’s try to get out of there ASAP.”

The others nodded. This seemed easy enough. At least, if they didn’t encounter anything nefarious. They knew they probably would, but they could handle it. Warrior turned to Twilight and nodded. The latter took on his beastly form and took the lead. Wild drew his bow and nocked two arrows. The others unsheathed their swords and raised their newly lit lanterns. With a last look at the clear blue sky, the heroes entered the dark forest.

#linkeduniverse fanfiction #linkeduniverse #my own #my writing #fanfiction #Can We Get Back to Adventuring Please

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frederickwiddowson · 3 years

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The Acts of the Apostles, the history of the early church, by Luke the physician - Acts 21:8-14 comments: Paul and company stay with Philip the evangelist

Acts 21:8 ¶ And the next day we that were of Paul’s company departed, and came unto Caesarea: and we entered into the house of Philip the evangelist, which was one of the seven; and abode with him. 9 And the same man had four daughters, virgins, which did prophesy. 10 And as we tarried there many days, there came down from Judaea a certain prophet, named Agabus. 11 And when he was come unto us, he took Paul’s girdle, and bound his own hands and feet, and said, Thus saith the Holy Ghost, So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle, and shall deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles. 12 And when we heard these things, both we, and they of that place, besought him not to go up to Jerusalem. 13 Then Paul answered, What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart? for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus. 14 And when he would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, The will of the Lord be done.

Cornelius, the centurion in Acts 10 was from Caesarea. Caesarea Martima was built by Herod the Great to be a major port. It was the administrative center of the Roman Empire’s province of Judea. It is on the coast of the Mediterranean south of Haifa in present-day Israel. Caesarea is often called Caesarea Martima or Caesarea Palastinae to differentiate it from Caesarea Philippi on the Jordan River.

Philip the evangelist, it is said, was one of the seven, referring to the chosen deacons.

Acts 6:5 And the saying pleased the whole multitude: and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolas a proselyte of Antioch:

He had four unmarried daughters who prophesied. This represents a perplexing conundrum for Fundament Baptists who think women are warranted in the Bible only to walk behind men, keep their heads down, and shut up. There are prominent women in the Bible who perform God’s ordained assignments that would surprise some and dismay some others.

Here is Deborah in Judges.

Judges 4:4 And Deborah, a prophetess, the wife of Lapidoth, she judged Israel at that time.

You should read the rest of Judges, chapter 4.

Consider Huldah the prophetess in 2Kings 22:14 and 2Chronicles 34:22 and her short sermon to the king’s men.

Perhaps we can consider Phebe, the servant from the Greek word from which we get the word Deacon in English, whom Paul says should be obeyed. Tradition says and the postscript to older versions of the King James Bible says that she delivered the letter to the Romans.

Romans 16:1 ¶ I commend unto you Phebe our sister, which is a servant of the church which is at Cenchrea: 2 That ye receive her in the Lord, as becometh saints, and that ye assist her in whatsoever business she hath need of you: for she hath been a succourer of many, and of myself also.

There were deaconesses in the early church of the first and second century.

As for evidence Pliny the Younger was the governor Bithynia in what we know today as Turkey, geographically Asia Minor. He wrote a letter about Christians to the Emperor Trajan around 115AD. Here is the content of what we have today. Paul could not go to Bithynia but Peter may have gone there.

Acts 16:7 After they were come to Mysia, they assayed to go into Bithynia: but the Spirit suffered them not.

1Peter 1:1 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,

Here is one translation from the Latin between the two men.

“Pliny the Younger to the Emperor Trajan

It is my practice, my lord, to refer to you all matters concerning which I am in doubt. For who can better give guidance to my hesitation or inform my ignorance? I have never participated in trials of Christians. I therefore do not know what offenses it is the practice to punish or investigate, and to what extent. And I have been not a little hesitant as to whether there should be any distinction on account of age or no difference between the very young and the more mature; whether pardon is to be granted for repentance, or, if a man has once been a Christian, it does him no good to have ceased to be one; whether the name itself, even without offenses, or only the offenses associated with the name are to be punished.

Meanwhile, in the case of those who were denounced to me as Christians, I have observed the following procedure: I interrogated these as to whether they were Christians; those who confessed I interrogated a second and a third time, threatening them with punishment; those who persisted I ordered executed. For I had no doubt that, whatever the nature of their creed, stubbornness and inflexible obstinacy surely deserve to be punished. There were others possessed of the same folly; but because they were Roman citizens, I signed an order for them to be transferred to Rome.

Soon accusations spread, as usually happens, because of the proceedings going on, and several incidents occurred. An anonymous document was published containing the names of many persons. Those who denied that they were or had been Christians, when they invoked the gods in words dictated by me, offered prayer with incense and wine to your image, which I had ordered to be brought for this purpose together with statues of the gods, and moreover cursed Christ--none of which those who are really Christians, it is said, can be forced to do--these I thought should be discharged. Others named by the informer declared that they were Christians, but then denied it, asserting that they had been but had ceased to be, some three years before, others many years, some as much as twenty-five years. They all worshipped your image and the statues of the gods, and cursed Christ.

They asserted, however, that the sum and substance of their fault or error had been that they were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by oath, not to some crime, but not to commit fraud, theft, or adultery, not falsify their trust, nor to refuse to return a trust when called upon to do so. When this was over, it was their custom to depart and to assemble again to partake of food--but ordinary and innocent food. Even this, they affirmed, they had ceased to do after my edict by which, in accordance with your instructions, I had forbidden political associations. Accordingly, I judged it all the more necessary to find out what the truth was by torturing two female slaves who were called deaconesses. But I discovered nothing else but depraved, excessive superstition.

I therefore postponed the investigation and hastened to consult you. For the matter seemed to me to warrant consulting you, especially because of the number involved. For many persons of every age, every rank, and also of both sexes are and will be endangered. For the contagion of this superstition has spread not only to the cities but also to the villages and farms. But it seems possible to check and cure it. It is certainly quite clear that the temples, which had been almost deserted, have begun to be frequented, that the established religious rites, long neglected, are being resumed, and that from everywhere sacrificial animals are coming, for which until now very few purchasers could be found. Hence it is easy to imagine what a multitude of people can be reformed if an opportunity for repentance is afforded.

Trajan to Pliny the Younger

You observed proper procedure, my dear Pliny, in sifting the cases of those who had been denounced to you as Christians. For it is not possible to lay down any general rule to serve as a kind of fixed standard. They are not to be sought out; if they are denounced and proved guilty, they are to be punished, with this reservation, that whoever denies that he is a Christian and really proves it--that is, by worshiping our gods--even though he was under suspicion in the past, shall obtain pardon through repentance. But anonymously posted accusations ought to have no place in any prosecution. For this is both a dangerous kind of precedent and out of keeping with the spirit of our age.”(1)

(1) http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/pliny.html. (accessed 3.28.2018).

Female deacons were also present in the early Baptist churches of the seventeenth century as it was thought unseemly for a man to minister to a single woman or widow.(2)

(2) McBeth, H. Leon. The Baptist Heritage (Kindle Location 780). B&H Publishing. Kindle Edition.

This brings us to verses that seem to contradict these historical and Biblical facts. For instance, Paul wrote to the Corinthians;

1Corinthians 14:34 ¶ Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also saith the law.

What is the context of that command?

1Corinthians 14:26 ¶ How is it then, brethren? when ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation. Let all things be done unto edifying. 27 If any man speak in an unknown tongue, let it be by two, or at the most by three, and that by course; and let one interpret. 28 But if there be no interpreter, let

him keep silence in the church; and let him speak to himself, and to God. 29 Let the prophets speak two or three, and let the other judge. 30 If any thing be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace. 31 For ye may all prophesy one by one, that all may learn, and all may be comforted. 32 And the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets. 33 For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all churches of the saints.

34 ¶ Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also saith the law. 35 And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home: for it is a shame for women to speak in the church.

36 ¶ What? came the word of God out from you? or came it unto you only? 37 If any man think himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that I write

unto you are the commandments of the Lord. 38 But if any man be ignorant, let him be ignorant. 39 Wherefore, brethren, covet to prophesy, and forbid not to speak with tongues. 40 Let all things be done decently and in order.

The context is asking what was said in an unknown tongue during the church meeting. Notice in verse 28 that if there is no interpreter the man speaking should remain silent and speak to himself and to God but not the congregation.

However, women were not to teach men as that abrogated the spiritual responsibility a man has for the spiritual leadership of his family and in the Christian community. This should never be changed because of the psychology of men who will surrender their responsibility to their wives if given half the chance. That started with Adam.

1Timothy 2:11 Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. 12 But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.

But, the value of women as co-heirs in the grace of life is not diminished by the separate spheres of responsibility men and women are given.

1Peter 3:7 Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.

Galatians 3:28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.

And if you object to a woman voting in a church meeting then note that voting isn’t mandated in the New Testament letters of Paul as I can’t find a verse that says, “when the church votes…” So, we have liberty to do some things that fit our culture and time unless you feel we should meet before dawn on Sunday morning and then go to our jobs afterwards like the early Christians or that you should send your young man out to find a wife and tell him to marry the girl who offers to water his camels.

Back to the text, disciples, as noted in verse 4, warned Paul by the Spirit of God not to go to Jerusalem. Here Agabus of Judea who is mentioned in Acts 11:27 and 28 warning of a coming famine. Now, he is warning Paul, who is bound to push God’s permissive will rather than satisfy His perfect will. A stubborn man, that Paul, wouldn’t you say? Luke and the disciples at Caesarea plead with Paul but to no avail. They give up and simply ask that God’s will be done.

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xx-ingie-xx · 7 years

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Fortitude Update (+ an excerpt)

Ever since I started this “Epic Edit,” I’ve always approached the Fortitude revision(s) chronologically, refusing to proceed past a chapter until it was finished. Clearly this isn’t working very well, since I don’t always feel inspired to work in that order. So I tend to develop writer’s block and let the story sit there until my inspiration returns.

So I’m going to try a different approach. I’ll work in smaller sections, editing whatever part of whatever chapter inspires me. I will continue to update the chapters online in order, however, so a revision will sit on my computer until I’ve caught up to it. So I might update one chapter at a time, and then I might update three at a time, depending on my progress. Also, since this blog could reeeeally use some activity, I will also post edited parts as excerpts from time to time (hopefully frequently!).

I recently worked on a section of Chapter 31, after Zelda rushes to Aboda and tries to wake the people cursed with the Black Sleep. The conversation between her and Link has been changed for three reasons: 1) I think I crammed too many problems into one scene, 2) I wanted to minimize Link’s lecturing tone, and 3) I don’t like how I tried to fix the tension between them before Zelda is forced to flee Aboda. That tension is best left unresolved until after the fairy fountain scene. I also want to stress Zelda’s ongoing dilemma of being torn between her various responsibilities while also being limited in her options. These changes might not be obvious in one small excerpt, but here it is anyway. :)

The touch of a hand stroking my hair coaxed me out of slumber, and slowly I opened my eyes, confused to find myself lying in a soft bed. Link knelt beside me with his arms resting on the mattress, looking solemn and weary as ever.

“How are you feeling?” he asked me softly.

“Tired,” I said hoarsely. “But fine otherwise.”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, “but the villagers have agreed to hold a cremation ceremony. I thought I should see if you’re able to attend.“

Cremation…?

Of course. Dread fell upon me as the fog of sleep lifted. For those we lost to the Black Sleep. Unless their bodies were cremated, they would eventually become the very monster that killed them.

Slowly I sat up and glanced out the window. “It’s already so late?”

Link moved to sit beside me on the bed. “Almost sunset. I let you rest as long as possible.”

I sighed and studied his profile. “Did they resist you at all?”

He shrugged. “It took some convincing, but that’s understandable.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” Gently he lifted a hand to touch my forehead. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You look exhausted.”

“I feel fine, certainly well enough to be there… all thanks to you.”

Link turned away with a scoff. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t have to look after me the way you did.”

“I will always look after you,” he said, meeting my gaze. “One argument won’t change that.”

Something warm and familiar stirred in my chest, though it quickly withered into guilt.

“It was more than that. I broke my word.”

Link looked down at his hands, saying nothing.

“I never meant to hurt you,” I added softly. “But I couldn’t ignore them.”

“You didn’t trust that I would handle it.”

“I was closer to the village—”

“You had no idea where I was. And I had the Ocarina, remember? I could have reached them just as quickly as you did.”

“I didn’t know if you knew…”

Link gave me a dry look. “Zelda, of course I knew. You think they report to you before me?”

I knew I was losing the argument, but still I groped for excuses. “And when you discovered that you cannot wake them?”

Pain flickered across Link’s face, and immediately I regretted my words.

“You know that’s no excuse,” he said sharply. “I would have found another way… even if I brought them to you myself.”

I avoided his gaze, biting back another retort.

“Zelda, I know you’ve anguished over your reputation for months, looking for a chance to prove yourself—”

“This isn’t about proving myself, Link; it’s about my responsibility to our people! will not stand idly by anymore, not when I can save them.”

“And what of your responsibility to our child?”

I paused, breathing a frustrated sigh. “I had guards, Link.”

“Two guards. You rode through the night with two guards, no Ocarina, and no magic. You had no means of escape if something went wrong. That’s not responsible; it’s reckless.”

I cast him a challenging look. “I don’t think you have any right to lecture me on recklessness.”

“It’s my child too.”

“You know what I mean. Your life is already in danger; you shouldn’t be out here at all.”

He shook his head. “We’ve already discussed that. I don’t have a choice. You do.”

“But I don’t, Link!” I exclaimed, rising up off the bed. “You have your duties, and I have mine. I can’t just abandon them, and I was wrong to promise that I would.”

Link avoided my fierce gaze, staring at his hands while I willed myself to calm.

“Despite your implications,” I said in a gentler tone, “I do care about our child’s safety. Coming here was not an easy decision.”

At this he lifted his head and slowly rose to his feet, fixing me with his sad, probing gaze.

“I know you would be devastated if something went wrong,” he said quietly, “but I also know you’ve detached yourself from this child.”

I took a step back, affronted. “How can you even say that to me?”

“Because I know you,” he said gently, reaching for my cheek, “and I know you’re as frightened as you are frustrated—about me, the baby, everything. You’re done feeling powerless, and you’re done being cautious.”

I searched his face through glistening eyes, too stunned to find response—when a knock sounded at the door. Link sighed, letting his hand fall from my cheek.

“They’re ready,” he murmured, pulling away to grab our cloaks. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

I nodded, and took my cloak, feeling strangely numb as I draped it across my shoulders. Together we left the room and headed outside, neither of us saying another word.

Streaks of red scorched the sky as long shadows stretched across the village, casting the mourners in dreary silhouette. They had gathered a ways out toward Hyrule Field, where the seven pyres stood.

Nadine led our humble procession, followed by Link and myself, our guards, and a representative for each mourning family.

Link and I stood off to the side, watching Nadine take her place before the crowd, backed by a row of seven burning torches.

“My friends,” she addressed the villagers, her strong voice carrying above the wind, “we have gathered in this solemn hour… to release our loved ones from the grip of unending darkness.”

My eyes strayed to the bodies resting upon the pyres, and I noticed that their faces were calm, even peaceful, as though the curse had already left them.

What a cruel deception it was.

"It is with great sorrow, and great love,” Nadine continued, "that we free them from this torment… so they may find eternal rest in the loving arms of the Divine Sisters.”

By that point several people had begun to weep, and Nadine noticeably strained to keep her composure.

“I now invite those who have volunteered to speak to please come forward.”

Fourteen eulogies followed, and each tearful anecdote whittled at my composure until tears streamed down my face. The people’s grief filled my ears, cutting like a blade into my heart, and I let it consume me. It no longer mattered how many lives I saved that day; I knew only the faces of those I had failed.

“Torch bearers,” Nadine called once the last speaker had finished, “please step forward to receive your flame.”

One by one each representative removed a torch from its holder until all seven had been claimed. Then they stood in a small cluster, watching as Nadine doused the pyres in sacred oils. All the while an elegy chanted in the background, though I could not recall when it had started…

“With this cleansing firelight,

Free them from eternal night…”

The hymn grew quieter as the torch bearers neared the pyres, but the lead singers stayed strong. In regretful silence I mouthed the words, unable to dislodge the lump in my throat.

Then suddenly a scream rose above the song, and even the lead singers faltered when a woman threw herself at one of the pyres, clutching the body of her husband.

“Get away!” she screamed at the torch bearer, her voice hoarse and shrill. “He’s still breathing! He’s still breathing!”

My attention shifted when a hand grasped my arm, gently pulling me back the few steps I had unknowingly taken. Confused I turned and met Link’s gaze, seeing my own grief reflected in his eyes.

But there was nothing I could do. I had already given my best.

Myra. Her name is Myra.

I could only watch as her family coaxed her away from the pyre. An eternity seemed to pass before she relented, sobbing into her hands while her mother drew her close.

The image blurred beyond my tears.

I’m so sorry… I could have spared you this…

Suppressed sobs burned my throat, escaping in small, sharp breaths. How vividly I knew her anguish, how fresh the memories became as I watched her suffer the fate I so narrowly escaped…

My thoughts quieted then, distracted by the touch of Link’s fingers brushing mine. I responded and slipped my hand into his, careful to keep my gaze focused on the ceremony.

By now Myra’s family had rejoined the crowd, their faces barely distinguishable as the sunset faded into darkness.

“With this cleansing firelight,

Free them from eternal night…”

Then the representatives raised their torches and set the pyres alight. The fire spread quickly, rising until seven massive flames pierced the air like blazing spires.

The sight ignited a wave of cries, disrupting our elegy, but those who could sing made a noble effort. Somehow I managed to join them for the last refrain, though my voice shook all the while. Beneath the folds of my cloak I tightened my hold on Link’s hand, feeling him do the same.

#zelda #loz #fanfiction #fanfic #fortitude #excerpts

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