#We all the citizens have bound into the time to ask the wisdom from the CREATOR to find talented politicians!
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We’ll Be Free (Part 2)
Pairing: Billy Batson x Reader
Warnings: Minor/non-explicit violence
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: Billy Batson tries to get into contact with his girlfriend who he left behind after moving with Victor and Rosa.
A/N: To the people asking me to write a part 2. This one is for you anons and @autumnfalls26 and @olyink and @nyeddleblog
“I miss you; I love you.” You whispered, staring at the picture of the phone wallpaper that you had printed before switching off the phone permanently to prevent being tracked.
You took a picture of the two of you hugging in the mirror, with Billy’s back facing the mirror and your face hidden in his neck. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist and yours were strewn carelessly on his shoulders.
You smiled at it, closing your eyes and sending a quiet prayer into the universe, “I hope you have a good day today.”
“(Y/N)! Come on! The first impression is the most important impression!”
“I’m coming!” You shouted, leaning of your window to see your foster mom pull out of the garage. You quickly leaped over the window sill to hear her scream, “Not that way!”
You rolled your eyes at her, “Would you loosen up? You look like ‘The Scream’.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t jump out of the window then. We’re protecting you from a gang, (Y/N), but if you end up killing yourself first—”
“Oh relax, at most I would’ve fallen a couple of feet.”
She sighed, giving up the battle and just opened the door to the jeep, “Just get in.”
“Yes mom~!!” You chirped and she rolled her eyes again once you slid into the front seat. It had been a month since you stared living with this foster family and you had to admit that they were pretty cool.
Your foster mom was a head neurosurgeon and was married to a military man. So, they were the perfect couple if anything were to happen to you, or if they managed to find you.
It had been a huge change to leave home and then get fostered. Your parents had been arrested after an attempt of murder when they tried to burn down the house with you in it but that had failed and luckily, you were so used to escaping through the window to see Billy that as soon as you smelt fire you had gotten out.
Once again you had Billy to thank for your life.
After that things had happened so fast and things were just spinning around you that you couldn’t even think straight. Before you knew it, you were sitting in a new house with new ‘parents’.
However, it didn’t come with much freedom. You were not allowed to leave the house usually, but they kept you occupied at home. And you weren’t going to ungrateful.
But spending so much time in solitude made you realize how good you had it. You were alive and well and now you had people to rely on. You didn’t have to fend for yourself anymore. You could go to sleep in a warm bed and wake up safely without any fear of who would be outside your locked door.
That’s what you told yourself when you missed Billy and wanted to go back to him.
You tried to convince yourself that this was the best for you, but deep down you knew that this wasn’t what you wanted if you couldn’t share it with Billy.
“Three more years, and we’ll be free.” The two of you used to say and now you were worried that time wouldn’t come and Billy wouldn’t know where you were when it happened.
You were getting bored being locked in the house for most of the day but you’d never let them know. You couldn’t make them feel guilty for protecting you. You would stay locked up at home for eternity if it meant that they wouldn’t get upset with you or think that you were ungrateful.
But not today. Today you could go outside, because today unfortunately or fortunately, you couldn’t decide but you got to go to school. Just to do the necessary paperwork to join a month later so it meant that you wouldn’t be a normal high school student for another month, but it was a step closer.
A step closer to leaving your old life behind.
***
“You should go.” You told your foster mom softly when she got a red alert from the hospital.
“But I have to finish up here.” She stammered and you could tell she was getting a bit panicked from having to leave you alone.
“I can do that; you go do your job.” You told her, giving her a little push towards the door. While you did want her to go from the pure selflessness of your heart, you also wanted a little peace from all her hovering. Not that you’d let her know that.
“I can’t—”
“I’ll be fine,” You urged, handing her purse, “I’ll go straight home. I promise. Scout’s honour.”
“You weren’t even a scout.”
Once she left you felt excited for some reason. You didn’t lie, you were going to go straight home after this but you were still ecstatic about getting to actually walk down the streets for the first time since you had gotten here.
You finished up any remaining work at school pretty quickly and headed home immediately, with your hands tucked inside the pockets of your, well Billy’s, jacket and hood pulled over your head.
It was a safety measure, so no one would be able to see your face at first glance, but you still didn’t let it ruin your mood as you walked back with a skip in your step.
That was about to change very quickly....
***
It had been another normal, monotonous day for Billy as he walked back home from school. Freddy had gone ahead because he had a free period at the end of the day and hadn’t seen the need to stick around.
So, Billy was alone as he walked back.
He was actually kind of lamenting that the day had been so boring. He was a teen superhero, more interesting things were bound to happen to him but still the closest thing he got to an evil supervillain who wanted to end the world was his science teacher, which to be fair, wasn’t that far off.
His wishes for something interesting were answered when he heard a distant scream and immediately facepalmed, “Why did I even say anything?”
Running to the source of the noise, he ducked into an alleyway and immediately stuttered in his steps. He definitely wasn’t expecting this. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see the love of his life today.
And he expected to see her held at gun point even less.
You were frozen in fear as you stared down the barrel of a gun. He had whipped out the weapon when you had shouted for help and told you if you made any moves he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.
You wanted to seem brave and stare him down but you felt your throat closing up and tears began brimming your eyes. You were scared as hell and you had no idea how to get out of this.
“Once we tie up this lose end, we’ll finally get those damn cops off our tails.” He said, cocking the gun and you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. The next thing you heard was the sound of a gun being fired.
“SHAZAM!”
When you opened your eyes, you saw a blur of red and white move past you so quickly that you couldn’t focus your eyes on it. It beat up the man who held a gun to your head a few minutes ago after the man had wasted all his bullets trying to shoot him.
You wanted to hide, to duck and cover while the hero handled business but you were frozen, the thought of moving your feet and actually hiding never came to your mind but soon enough your weight was too much for your buckling knees to bear and you collapsed on the ground.
The fight was over pretty quickly. The man didn’t even stand a chance against a superhero and he was knocked unconscious. The hero picked up the gun and crushed it in his fist before chucking it in the dumpster.
When he turned to you, you were watching with wide-eyes, body shaking as you tried to process whatever just happened to you.
Realizing that you weren’t in the best state, he stepped closer to you with his hands held out like a was trying to coax a small animal, “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m not going to hurt you.”
You bit your lip, staring at the older man who saved your life and nodded.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
You nodded once again and he stepped towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist before taking off. Unfortunately, you were too shaken up to take in the joy and wonder of flying and once he landed, setting you in your backyard were you only able to think clearly.
“I, um, don’t know how to that you for saving my life.” You spoke, wringing your hands nervously.
He looked surprised for a second but then he relaxed, sending you a smile before puffing out his chest a little, “All in a day’s work, citizen.”
He meant to take off again but you stopped him, stepping forward, “How did you know my name?”
He looked shell-shocked and completely caught off guard, like he didn’t even remember calling you by your name, “What?”
“You called me (Y/N). How did you know?”
He wanted to lie to you. He wanted to lie and tell you it was because he had the wisdom of Solomon that he was able to know your name and make a hasty retreat.
But he couldn’t. He had been waiting to see you for so long. He had missed you so much. He couldn’t just turn away and pretend that he had never seen you. He couldn’t stay away from you any longer.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He breathed and you raised a brow, taking a step away from him.
“Do I know you?”
“Just...don’t freak out, okay?”
You didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at him and waiting for something to happen. It looked like he was trying to talk himself into something and he took a deep, cleansing breath before looking at you once again.
“Shazam.”
You shrieked as lightning struck the middle of the backyard, knocking you back a few feet and when the smoke cleared, there stood the boy that you had fallen in love with.
“Billy...?”
He was grinning brightly at you as you stared him down in disbelief before quickly walking up to him. You smiled gently, raising a hand to cup his cheek and close the space between you.
His expression and pure love and happiness changed into one of horror and pure pain before he doubled over and feel to the ground. You lunged forward, catching him in your arms as his dead weight pulled you to the ground.
It was then that you saw the bullet in his back. Your mind rushed to the moment before he stepped in front of you, he must have transformed too late. The world began spinning around you as Billy’s blood spilled onto the grass.
“Mom....” You muttered remembering that she was probably back from work by now before turning your head towards the house and cradling his body in your grasp, “MOM! DAD! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!”
***
The surgery took hours and all the while you sat outside the operation theatre, staring at the closed doors. Your mom had tried to get you to go home and clean up but you refused, wanting to be with him.
From the outside, it looked pretty uneventful and you hoped that was the case. You hoped that the operation was going well and there would be no unseen complications.
You hadn’t taken your eyes off the door longer than the time it took you to blink but you were forced to turn your gaze from the door when a couple came bolting up the stairs.
His foster parents. Victor and Rosa.
The looked absolutely distraught and it made you sniffle, the weight of reality settling on your shoulders.
“What happened?” Rosa asked your mom and she could only turn to you.
“Yes, (Y/N), you need to tell us now. What happened?”
You bit your lip, your gaze averting to your hands that were still covered in his blood and your vision became blurry with tears.
“He took a bullet for me.”
You heard Rosa gasped and the tears fell. You buried your head in your knees and sobbed quietly, praying that this would get over quickly so you could see him again.
***
“I missed you.” Was the first thing Billy told you once you walked through the door. You smiled but then blushed when you noticed the way his siblings were all looking at you.
“I can come back later.”
He sat up, taking support from Freddy and beckoned you over, “No, it’s cool, they were just leaving.”
It took a few pointed glares to get them out of the hospital room but they left eventually and you settled into the empty chair beside him. You immediately took his hands, cradling them between yours and pressing a small kiss to the back of them.
“I’ve missed you.” He said, looking over at you with a fond smile and he pulled one hand out of your grasp to brush a strand of your hair back before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I missed you too.”
Months of not seeing each other was finally catching up with you. The emptiness that you felt in your chest was finally beginning to fill and you had only wished that it had taken a different way.
You wanted to apologize but you knew it wasn’t your fault. And he knew it as well. You wanted to say something, anything, that would make him and you feel better but nothing was coming to mind.
You were brought out of your thoughts by a hand on the back of your neck and he slanted his lips over yours. You responded immediately, your body taking control as your arms wrapped around his neck and you tilted your head.
He pulled away before kissing you again, once, twice and then one more for good measure, but even then, you were following his lips. He looked at you like you carried the world in your eyes and like you had strung the stars in the sky.
You kissed him again, as a hello, as a goodbye, as an apology, as a sign of forgiveness and poured all the incomprehensible emotions you were feeling into that kiss, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you next to him in his hospital bed.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
#billy batson x reader#billy batson x you#billy batson x y/n#billy batson#Shazam#shazam x reader#shazam one shot#reader insert#female reader#dc x reader#dc one shot#dc x y/n#dc universe#dc comics
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Anidala Week 2021
Day 3: Mythology/Fairy Tales or Favorite Touches
A Serpent in the Garden of Eden
This is based on Hindu mythology about two lovers named Behula and Lakhindar. Some aspects of the original story have been tweaked :)
Once upon a time, two seraphs in the kingdom of heaven fell in love – a love so deep and profound they would attract the envy of the other angels who served in the court of gods. They were Vader and Amidala, the most beautiful out of all the angels.
Vader was descended from the bloodline of the Father himself, creator of the heavens. Vader with his enormous black wings – a black as sinful as midnight – was the angel of death. He could be as beautiful or terrible as the person whose soul he intended to take with him.
Amidala was descended from the Sister, the deity of light, love and purity. She was the queen of the celestial maidens. She inspired all to follow her and was well loved by the citizens of Zion. Her soft wings were as white and pure as snow itself.
This couple’s union caused quite a stir in court and attracted the attention of everyone. The gods felt they were an excellent match and gave them their blessing to marry. They lived together in harmony for centuries and had many children including the twins Luke and Leia, who became deities of the sun and the moon. But after a while, like most immortal beings, they grew weary of living eternal life and craved adventure. They desired to be reincarnated and sent to Earth so that they could find each other and fall in love with each other all over again. The gods granted them this request.
Amidala, being the elder of the two angels, was sent to earth first as the youngest daughter in a well-off family in Theed. Four years later, Vader was sent as the son of a woman named Shmi. Shmi Skywalker was a middle-aged woman who lived on her own in a city called Mos Espa. It so happened that her family had been cursed and killed by the god of snakes and destruction, Sheev due to a grudge he bore against the Skywalkers. He had spared her since she was a child at the time, intending her to become his devotee, but the iron-willed Shmi vowed never to worship the god who had taken away her family.
Sheev, a vindictive god, was affronted by her refusal and placed a curse on her. Any child born of her would never reach adulthood. Shmi went on to have six sons and all of them died under mysterious circumstances in their infancy and Shmi suspected it was from snakebites. Which made sense, of course, since snakes were associated with the conniving god and it was said that was how he took the lives of people who incurred his wrath.
When she found herself with child again, she briefly considered giving in to Sheev. This seventh son was conceived without a Father and Shmi suspected a divine intervention. The child was born with stars in his eyes that reflected infinite wisdom. He was too aware as a child and emitted a godly aura. Shmi knew he was no ordinary human child as soon as she held him in her arms. With his unnaturally bright blue eyes and soft golden curls, he looked like an angel descended from the heavens. Shmi named him Anakin.
Shmi was fiercely protective of her boy and always kept a close eye on him. Anakin was not to step a foot out of their extremely safeguarded house. Anakin, naturally because Vader’s essence still lived inside him, was born with the desire to explore worlds and make a name for himself. But he was aware that his mother’s overprotectiveness came from the sorrows she had endured so he (mostly) remained an obedient child. He dreamed of leaving his house once he reached the age of twenty-one for that would render the curse null and void.
As a child, he had discovered he was an excellent craftsman and a natural artist. He painted everything he had heard Shmi talk about the world beyond Mos Espa and even Tatooine. Sometimes, images would flash in his mind about a place where there was only happiness. These visions would also show him a strangely familiar face.
Anakin hadn’t seen many girls and most of the women he had encountered were his mother’s age but he knew she was the most beautiful girl in the world. He wasn’t certain she really existed and perhaps, she was just a figment of his imagination and he decided to bring her to life with a portrait. He deftly painted her big brown eyes, delicate features and soft brown hair. It proved to be his finest work.
Meanwhile, Shmi began looking for a potential bride for Anakin. She knew he was lonely and she knew she wouldn’t be around forever to look after him and Anakin had just turned twenty. He had been mostly nonchalant to the girls she had considered for him and spent an awful amount of time thinking about some fictitious girl of his dreams.
She went to Jira, the fruit seller, who lived nearby. The old woman knew every girl in vicinity and she had doted on Anakin since he was little. Shmi told herabout Anakin’s reluctance to marry.
“Don’t look so down, Shmi. I have good news for you,” Jira assured her. “I know about Anakin’s curse and it seems like we have found a solution. A month ago, I visited my sister in Theed and heard the most interesting news. The Naberries are devotes of Shiraya and on a recent visit to the temple, they have heard a prophecy about their second daughter. It is said she would never be a widow.”
Shmi rejoiced at the news. If Anakin were to wed this girl, that would secure his life. “Where can I find this girl?” she asked.
Anakin did not want to marry this girl. His mother had gushed about her countless qualities. Shmi believed she was as special as her own son. She was well known in all of Theed for being wits, virtues and beauty. But he was growing weary of living life as a prisoner inside his own home and he longed to live a normal life. Maybe this Naberrie girl was the answer. He agreed to meet her.
All his initial reluctance faded once he saw her. It was her. The girl from his dreams.
Anakin immediately agreed to marry Padmé, who seemed just as much taken with him as he was with her.
On their wedding night, Shmi prepared a chamber for them and took every precaution to keep out any snakes that could slither in. Unfortunately, Sheev was one step ahead of her. He conspired with Watto, the builder, to sabotage their accommodation and leave a carefully concealed hole.
Anakin and Padmé were fast asleep on their wedding night, after conversing for hours about their shared visions and memories. The snake upon gazing at the couple felt a pang of regret and hesitated to bring misfortune upon the innocent young couple. Sheev then used his godly powers to compel the serpent and charmed Padmé to fall into a deep slumber. The snake caused the lamp kept next to the couple’s bed to topple and the spills of hot oil forced Padmé to wake and she found her husband bitten by the serpent. She took out the dagger she always carried with her and with she threw it at the snake, which caused its tail to be chopped in half.
Shmi rushed to her son’s side but it was too late. The poison was already in his system and within a few hours, Anakin was dead. Shmi was inconsolable with grief and so was Padmé after becoming a widow at such a young age.
As per the tradition, Anakin’s body was to be put on a raft and set to sail on the river as was done to people who died from snake bites. Padmé refused to accept his death.
All her life, she had known her husband would never die before her. She wished to be on the raft and accompany him. The people thought she had lost her mind from the grief. She waited for them to leave after the ritual and then sneaked in the raft and started sailing on the river. She prayed to the gods to not let the raft sink.
It was said if you went far enough, you would reach the heavens. And that exactly was Padmé’s intention. She would enter heaven and beg the gods to restore Anakin back to life.
The gods were impressed by her perseverance and put her through many trails along the way. Padmé, with Amidala’s essence in her, proved she was worthy and passed them all.
When she reached the heavens, the gods welcomed her.
“We are impressed by your devotion to your husband,” said Yoda, the god of wisdom.
“Then help me by bringing him back to life,” pleaded Padmé.
“It is too late,” said Sheev, ever the schemer. “You have taken too long to reach here. We can only resurrect him within 3 days of his death. You have taken a week.”
Padmé was heartbroken. She besought them to find another way for her to be reunited with her Anakin again or take her life as well.
“There is a way,” said Qui-Gon, the god of compassion, thoughtfully.
“We can make him a god again, as he was once. But he would be bound to serve another god for eternity. That is the price you must pay.”
Sheev was quick to step up and offer to be Anakin’s master and Shmi, realizing her son’s life was more important to her, allowed Anakin to be Palpatine’s apprentice.
Shaak Ti, the goddess of power, was impressed by Padmé and offered to take her in if she was willing to give up her mortal life. Padmé agreed without a second thought. Anakin was restored to life and he was euphoric on seeing his beloved at his side. He felt very fortunate on having such a capable woman as his wife. In the end, Padmé’s endurance and good faith was rewarded. The couple was welcomed back in heaven as gods, reunited after the adventure of a lifetime, and as the happiest of husbands and wives.
#anidalaweek2021#anidalaweek#anidala#anakin skywalker#padme amidala#anakin x padme#anakin and padme#fic#my writing#behula#hindu mythology#reincarnation#shmi skywalker#sheev palpatine
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Saints&Reading: Wed., May, 19, 2021
May 6/May19
Saint Job the Righteous
Saint Job the Righteous lived about 2000-1500 years before the Birth of Christ, in Northern Arabia, in the country of Austidia in the land of Uz. His life and sufferings are recorded in the Bible (Book of Job). There exists an opinion, that Job was by descent a nephew of Abraham, and that he was the son of a brother of Abraham – Nakhor. Job was a man God-fearing and pious. With all his soul he was devoted to the Lord God and in everything conducted himself in accord with God's will, refraining from everything evil not only in deeds, but also in thoughts. The Lord blessed his earthly existence and rewarded Righteous Job with great wealth: he had many cattle and all kinds of possessions. Righteous Job's seven sons and three daughters were amiable amongst themselves and gathered for common repast all together in turns at each of their homes. Every seven days Righteous Job made for his children offerings to God, saying: "If perchance any of them hath sinned or offended God in their heart". For his justness and honesty Saint Job was held in high esteem by his fellow citizens and he had great influence in public matters.
One time however, when the Holy Angels did stand before the Throne of God, Satan appeared amongst them. The Lord God asked Satan, whether he had seen His servant Job, a man righteous and without blemish. Satan answered audaciously, that it was not for nothing that Job was God-fearing – since God was watching over him and multiplying his riches, but if misfortune were sent him, he would then cease to bless God. Then the Lord, wishing to prove Job's patience and faith, said to Satan: "Everything, that Job hath, I give into thine hand, but only he himself touch not". After this Job suddenly lost all his wealth, and then also all his children. Righteous Job turned to God and said: "Naked did I emerge from the womb of my mother, and naked shalt I be returned to my mother the earth. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blest be the Name of the Lord!" And thus did Job not sin before the Lord God, nor utter even an unthinking word.
When the Angels of God again did stand before the Lord and amongst them Satan also, then said the devil, that Job was righteous, since that he himself was without harm. Thereupon declared the Lord: "I permit thee to do with him, what thou wishest, sparing only his soul". After this Satan inflicted upon Righteous Job an horrid illness, leprous boils, which covered him head to foot. The sufferer was compelled to remove himself from the company of people, he sat outside the city on an heap of ashes and had to scrape at his pussing wounds with an shard of clay. All his friends and acquaintances abandoned him. His wife had to see after her own welfare, toiling and roaming from house to house. She not only did not support her husband with patience, but rather she thought, that God was punishing Job for some kind of secret sins, and she wept, and wailed against God, she reproached also her husband and finally advised Righteous Job to curse God and die. Righteous Job sorrowed grievously, but even in these sufferings he remained faithful to God. He answered his wife: "Thou speakest, like someone hysterical. Shalt we have from God only the good, and have nothing bad?" And Righteous Job did sin in nothing before God.
Hearing about the misfortunes of Job, three of his friends came afar off to comfort his sorrow. They reckoned, that Job was being punished by God for his sins, and they urged this righteous man though innocent to repent. The righteous one answered, that he was suffering not for sins, but that these tribulations were sent him from the Lord in accord with the Divine Will, which is inscrutable for man. His friends however did not believe him and they continued to think that the Lord was dealing with Job in accord with the laws obtaining under human standards, thus punishing Job for the committing of sins. In begrieved sorrow of soul Righteous Job turned with a prayer to God, beseeching Him Himself to bear witness before them of his innocence. God thereupon manifested Himself in a tempestuous whirlwind and reproached Job, in that he had tried to penetrate by his reason into the mystery of the world-order and the judgemental-purposes of God. The Righteous Job with all his heart repented himself in these thoughts and said: "I am as nothing, and I foreswear and repent myself in dust and ashes". The Lord thereupon commanded the friends of Job to have recourse to him in asking him to offer sacrifice for them. "Since, – said the Lord, – only the person Job do I accept it of, lest I spurn ye for this, that ye did speak concerning Me not thus rightly, as hath instead My servant Job". Job offered sacrifice to God for his friends, and the Lord accepted his intercession, and the Lord likewise returned to Righteous Job his health and gave him twice over more than he had previously. In place of his deceased children was born to him seven sons and three daughters, more beautiful than any other in that land. After bearing his sufferings, Job lived yet another 140 years (altogether he lived 248 years) and he lived to see his descendants down to the fourth generation.
Saint Job prefigures the Lord Jesus Christ, having come down to earth and suffering for the salvation of mankind, and then glorified in His glorious Resurrection.
"I know, – said Righteous Job, afflicted with the leprous boils, – I know, that my Redeemer liveth and He wilt raise up from the dust on the last day my decayed skin, and I in my flesh shalt see God. I shalt see Him myself with mine own eyes, and not through the eyes of some other see Him. In expectation of this, my heart doth jump within my bosom!" (Job 19: 25-27).
"Know ye, the judgement, in which be justified only those having true wisdom – the fear of the Lord, and true understanding – the departing from evil" (Job 28: 28).
Saint John Chrysostom says: "There was no human misfortune, which this man did not undergo. He was the firmest and most adamant, beset by sudden tribulation by hunger, and by woe, and sickness, and bereft of children, and loss of riches, and then suffering abuse from his wife, insult from his friends, reproach from his servants, and in everything he showed himself more solid than a stone, and a source before the Law also of Grace".
The Monk Mikhei of Radonezh (1385)
The Monk Mikhei of Radonezh was one of the first disciples of the Monk Sergei of Radonezh, and lived with him in the same cell, and under his guidance he attained to high spiritual perfection. For his meekness of soul and purity of heart, the Monk Mikhei during his lifetime was vouchsafed to witness the appearance of the Mother of God to his great teacher. One time the Monk Sergei, having made the morning rule of prayer, sat for awhile to rest, but suddenly he said to his student: "Be alert, my child, for we shalt have a wondrous visitation". Hardly had he pronounced these words when a voice was heard: "The All-Pure One draweth nigh". Suddenly there shone a light brighter than the sun, and the Monk Mikhei fell down upon the ground and out of fear lay there as though dead. When the Monk Sergei lifted up his disciple, that one asked: "Tell me, father, what is the reason for this wondrous vision? From fright my soul hath nearly parted from my body". The Monk Sergei thereupon informed his disciple about the appearance of the Most Holy Mother of God. Saint Mikhei reposed to God in the year 1385. The celebration of the Monk Mikhei is done on 6 May, and his relics rest beneath a crypt at the Trinity-Sergiev Lavra. On 10 December 1734, over the place of burial of the Monk Mikhei, there was consecrated a church in honour of the Appearance to the Monk Sergei of Radonezh of the Most Holy Mother of God, together with the Holy Apostles Peter and John the Theologian.
All texts ©1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.
John 6:35-39
35And Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst. 36 But I said to you that you have seen Me and yet do not believe. 37 All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out.38 For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me. 39 This is the will of the Father who sent Me, that of all He has given Me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day.
Acts 8:18-25
18 And when Simon saw that through the laying on of the apostles' hands the Holy Spirit was given, he offered them money, 19 saying, "Give me this power also, that anyone on whom I lay hands may receive the Holy Spirit." 20 But Peter said to him, "Your money perish with you, because you thought that the gift of God could be purchased with money! 21 You have neither part nor portion in this matter, for your heart is not right in the sight of God. 22 Repent therefore of this your wickedness, and pray God if perhaps the thought of your heart may be forgiven you. 23 For I see that you are poisoned by bitterness and bound by iniquity. 24 Then Simon answered and said, "Pray to the Lord for me, that none of the things which you have spoken may come upon me." 25 So when they had testified and preached the word of the Lord, they returned to Jerusalem, preaching the gospel in many villages of the Samaritans.
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Vanished
AU where Agnarr rescues Iduna as the mist descends and she loses her memory. He takes her to Arendelle and keeps her past a secret from everyone including Iduna herself, thinking it will keep her safe. Thank you @the-spastic-fantastic for developing this with me through brainstorming, mutual all caps excitement, skillful editing, Elias’s and Mrs. Calder’s best lines, outlining help, and this amazing moodboard!
Rated M, 20K, to be posted in four parts.
Part One
“Say it.”
Agnarr looked at his friend, then back down to Iduna’s sleeping form on the overstuffed mattress tucked into the corner of a small room near the kitchen, meant for a servant. There was nothing about it that resembled the homes or beds of the Northuldra. But she wouldn’t remember that.
“I rescued her from a ship attacked by pirates, the only survivor.”
“And what will you do if she speaks Northuldra?” He brushed the hair away from Iduna’s cheek as he spoke, tracing his fingers along the bruise there that was already a deep purple. He was more worried about the hard lump on the back of her head, but didn’t want to touch what was already so tender. She had whimpered in her sleep when he had last tried to feel it for blood.
“Tell her she must speak in the tongue she hears from me.”
“Elias, you have to be sure of that. We passed bodies on the way here. The Northuldra traders who were in town, they’ve been murdered. I will calm the chaos but it will take time. She must stay safe. Burn her clothes and boots. Give her something of Linnea’s or Thea’s to wear. Please keep her safe.”
“I will. I swear, Agnarr. My father too.”
“And if she remembers anything…” Agnarr trailed off, the urgency and horror of his previous statements still heavy in the air like smoke after a battle. Like the mist around the stones.
Elias put a hand on Agnarr’s shoulder. “If she remembers anything, I’ll keep her quiet and we’ll get word to you.”
***
“The King is dead! Long live the King!”
Agnarr waved from the balcony and it was a chore to keep his face impassive and his arm steady. People were spread out in the courtyard below and he could even see sailors manning the rail on the ships in the harbor. He looked up to the sloping hill of the fjord and saw families waving from roofs and upper windows with handkerchiefs in their hands. He waved to them all, dipping his head in acknowledgement, brief prayers on his lips for courage, for wisdom, for his kingdom, for the soul of his father, but most of all, for Iduna.
***
Iduna woke with the sensation of a scream unfinished on her tongue and smoke in her lungs. She raised a hand to her tangled hair and felt a lump, pulsing with her heartbeat. She groaned and the grimace brought a tight feeling to her cheek. She put her other hand there and felt a tight knot.
“Oh! You’re awake! I’ll go run and fetch Father. Stay still, the physician said you must.”
Iduna turned her head slowly to the sound of the voice, but only saw the swishing skirts of the speaker as they disappeared around the doorway. The language was familiar, but not her own. And the bed was comfortable, but not her own. She felt the echo of shouting in her ears, and a wind whipping around her as the very earth shook and rolled beneath her. As she stared at the ceiling, waiting for whoever the young woman had promised, her heart seized with all that she couldn’t recall. Where am I? What happened to me? An even more terrifying question gripped her. Who am I?
She opened her mouth and screamed.
***
“You must get married. The coronation soothed some fears, and your speech banning reprisals against the Northuldra showed your leadership and compassion, but the people are anxious.”
Agnarr sighed and nodded to Lord Hannesel. “I understand. But alliances and diplomacy are delicate. Father had several inquiries out, and nothing ever came of them. Marriages of State take time. I can’t imagine we can do this quickly.” He tensed, waiting to see what the council would say in response to that. He didn’t say that the reason for the stagnating negotiations was his own refusal to enter into them. His heart and his hand were already bound to Iduna in a ceremony all their own in the forest on a night when the northern lights danced their approval.
“You’re already twenty-five, Your Majesty.” Captain Calder rubbed a hand over his eyes. “We could skip all that.”
Agnarr looked at him, wondering what he meant. He knew he had to provide heirs, that it was the only way to make his small kingdom feel secure again after the mist closed off the north with the better part of their Army missing in the forest. But until he could find a way to make Iduna his queen, he would not marry.
Elias said she remembered nothing but her name, and even that took two days before she could recall it with any certainty. She was still physically recovering and his sixteen-year-old sister Linnea stayed with her throughout the day. Iduna had insisted on doing housework to earn her keep but Linnea convinced her that it was an affront to the good name of Calder, and that she must recover slowly and at peace.
Agnarr was relieved that her memory was as altered as the trolls had said it would be. If she didn’t know she was Northuldra, no one else would either. She would stay safe. But selfishly, he also mourned. If she didn’t remember anything, she wouldn’t remember him.
He longed to hold her hand again as they watched a sunset from the top of a rocky cliff. The scent of cloudberries on her fingers as she pressed them to his lips, the wind softly wrapping them in a current of crisp air. To laugh over shared memories of how he had fallen into the river when they first met, how they stayed up talking by the village fire on summer nights as bright as noon.
Captain Calder cleared his throat and Agnarr realized his attention had wandered. He nodded so the captain would continue. “My daughter loves the story I learned while sailing to France, of the king there who ordered a ball be hosted for his son the prince to find a bride. All of the unmarried women in the kingdom were invited to meet the prince and his bride was selected from them.”
Lord Hannesel laughed, a short bark that startled the other council members. “It would allow us to avoid the delicate and months-long process of communicating with the other kingdoms. We can call it an act of healing for our land. We announce that to secure the line of Arendelle, the king will take a bride from our own kingdom.”
Captain Calder looked at Agnarr, asking permission. He felt the eyes of the rest of the council as well. He sighed. “Fine. Let’s proceed.”
As the council discussed plans for invitations and the proper way to communicate their intentions internationally, Agnarr stayed silent. He thought of how his father might have run this meeting, eager to stoke the violence between Northuldra and Arendelle, still angry about Northuldra’s rejection of a dam and their resistance to formal relations even after seven years of emissaries and goodwill visits. He felt a wave of relief and then one of guilt. Being free of his father was the only good that had come from the battle. And yet, it still did not allow him to be with Iduna. The chaos had robbed her of her memory and thrust him into kingship.
He thought of how trying it would be to shake so many hands and dance with so many ladies while his heart longed for Iduna. Perhaps he could find a way for her to attend, to make her his choice? He thought of sending a dress for Iduna, with a note that she was to wear it to the ball, a mystery as great as the presence of fairy godmothers on the continent. They could be introduced and dance and no one would be suspicious if he chose the beautiful woman, recently rescued by the king’s best friend. Valencia had a princess who had washed up on their shore, and no one thought worse of Prince Erik for it. The council could even frame it as a sign of Arendelle’s strength - not needing to marry their king for a military alliance or riches.
His heart soared at the thought, but then he thought of Iduna unconscious in his arms, her head bruised and the troll’s hands over her, telling him that the price for her healing was her memory. How could he seek her out but not tell her who she was? How could he tell her who she was without putting her life in danger?
She was safe at the Calder’s house. And as king, he would do all he could do ease the fear and anger his citizens had for Northuldra. He would bring the leaders of the lynch mobs to justice, he would make it known that though their troops were trapped in the mist, it wasn’t clear that anyone had been killed besides his father. He would do all he could to keep her safe. And that would have to be enough.
****
Linnea tossed dresses out of the closet, a pile of brightly colored frocks that seemed to float before they fell onto the bed.
“See? I have so many! Father always brings some home when he travels! So wherever you’re from, I bet there will be one in here that feels comfortable to you! And you simply must go to the ball. You’ve been sad and lonely for too long. A ball is just the thing to lift your spirits.”
Linnea hugged one of the dresses to herself. It was a shade of pale yellow that made her dark hair and skin look even more striking than usual. Iduna reached to touch the silk of one dress, the muslin of another. She rubbed the stiff boning of a petticoat that stood on the bed like the skirt itself was sitting down for a visit with them.
“I think…I don’t think I wore dresses.”
Linnea laughed. “What did you wear? Breeches? Pantaloons? I think your head must not be healed quite yet.”
Iduna shook her head, then gingerly touched it. “No, that’s not right either.” She sighed, frustrated.
“Time for tea then, and perhaps the krumkake I saw Mother hide away for Father. The ball isn’t for another week. That’s plenty of time to find the outfit that will make the King mad with desire.”
***
The lanterns were lit from Market Square to the Castle Courtyard. The black buntings and veils of mourning had been lifted in favor of sprays of crocuses and wheat, a reminder that Arendelle still stood, that it had a future of hope.
Agnarr kissed hands and said his greetings and danced with the ladies. He didn’t step on any toes and made sure the refreshments were well stocked and that he could guide them to the food when the affections of any particular woman became too much.
Because he didn’t plan to pick a bride tonight. He could follow the direction of the council to host a ball, and he certainly owed a lot to Captain Calder. But he could not choose a queen while Iduna breathed the same air, was in the same city, while she needed him in ways she didn’t even know and he needed her in a million ways he could name but didn’t because they had to remain strangers. If she came tonight he planned to nod, smile, and look elsewhere for a dance partner.
But then he saw her.
She was on the arm of Captain Calder, Elias behind them with his fiancée Thea, and Linnea linking arms with her mother next to them. The herald announced them all together as “The Calder Family and Guests!” The orchestra played a merry tune and he was vaguely aware of Lord Hannesel at his elbow, complaining about a missive he had received from the Southern Isles. Agnarr left him and walked toward Iduna, an unsteady feeling in him like the first time he climbed with the Earth Giants’ help. He bowed to her and ignored Elias’s eyes, certain they held warnings or judgement or both. She didn’t curtsey until Linnea whispered in her ear, and then stumbled through it, her cheeks reddening and her movements awkward. Agnarr was relieved to see that her face was no longer bruised. He held out a hand and she placed hers in his.
“Welcome to the Kingdom of Arendelle. I was so glad to hear of your rescue and recovery.”
Iduna attempted a curtsey again, this time more fluid in her motion. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m most grateful to the Calders.”
The sounds of the orchestra swelled, or perhaps it was his own heart, but soon his hands were on her hand and waist, asking her for a dance and she placed hers on his shoulders in reply. Their eyes met and he saw her deep intake of breath. Did she remember? Was she remembering? She faltered in her steps.
“Would you mind if we sat down for a bit? I find I’m tired quite quickly these days, perhaps my injuries aren’t as healed as I had hoped.”
Agnarr apologized immediately, hating himself for not noticing her struggle. He walked them past the refreshment table and saw Elias dancing with Thea, his adoring eyes so focused on her that he didn’t see Agnarr escort Iduna away from the dancing crowds. He led her to a private garden where he ushered her to a bench by a pool of water. As she sat down, she kicked off her shoes and sighed.
“You’ve heard of me I suppose? The house guest who was rescued from pirates? I’m afraid I don’t remember the daring tale of my rescue, or anything else for that matter.” She laughed, and he was relieved that her laughter sounded like he remembered, not tinged with bitterness. “I’m probably the least interesting person to talk to here tonight. I know absolutely nothing about Arendelle or its ports or its trade or its harvest or even about the frightful sea battle I survived that would surely be a good tale. I know nothing that could intrigue you or capture your interest. I hardly know what I find interesting!”
He couldn’t help it. He reached for her hand and squeezed. “Then you’re the perfect person to talk to. Everyone else here is vying for my attention and a proposal. It’s exhausting. Perhaps we can talk for a while?”
She smiled, and it was like he could breathe again. The wind rushed around them and for a moment he thought she remembered too.
“Yes, let’s.”
He wanted to clutch her to his chest and murmur words of love, to run fingers through her hair, once wild. Instead he squeezed her hand and said “Good. Now tell me. Does Elias sneak out to meet Thea at night as much as his mother fears?”
She laughed again and he thought how wonderful it was to hear his favorite sound in the world once more.
***
When the clock struck midnight, they were still talking. She jumped at the chimes and put a hand to her cheek. “Oh! The Calders planned to leave now. I should go find them. I still don’t know the kingdom well, I would surely be lost if I left on my own.”
Agnarr reached down to where she had kicked off her shoes, bending low to pick them up. He kneeled in front of her with the shoe in his hand. “May I?”
Iduna untucked her feet from under her skirts and soon his hand was on her heel and ankle, gently placing the shoe on one foot and then the other. Iduna shivered a bit and he realized he was still holding her foot, still looking in her eyes. He stood.
“Are your shoes not comfortable, that you take them off when you sit down?”
She stood as well, taking his proffered arm. “The Calders are kind and had new shoes made for me. But they feel strange on my feet. I’m not sure where I’m from or what shoes I used to wear, but I am certain they weren’t dancing slippers made of canvas and covered in satin.”
“Perhaps you would allow me to take you to the cobbler, to have some others made. Reindeer hide boots are a specialty here, and I would like for you to see the best of Arendelle.”
Iduna smiled, ducking her head, a redness to her cheeks as she answered. “I believe I already have.”
***
Agnarr took Iduna to the cobbler the following day, on a tour of the wheat fields the next, and to examine the clock tower from the inside on the third. Elias gave him looks of warning each time he came to call on her at the house, but Agnarr was adept at using his guards or his schedule as a means to avoid the conversation that Elias clearly wanted to have with him. He knew it was a conversation he should at least have with himself – What are you doing? How can this end well? Shouldn’t you let her build a new life here, apart from you? Apart from the havoc your people have brought upon hers? But when he was with Iduna, it was like breathing the air again after suffocating. He told himself he was making sure she was acclimating well, that he had her best interests at heart. That he was fulfilling vows they had made to each other.
On the fourth day, he was prevented from calling on her because of a council meeting. He had arranged for the castle kitchens to send chocolates and farikal and arrived at the meeting late after agonizing over what kind of a note to send with the basket.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty!” Lord Hannesel greeted him with a clap on the back and a large smile. “We’re already drafting the announcements.”
Captain Calder puffed up proudly. “I’m delighted to know that my suggestion worked. And with our own houseguest as the bride! What a lovely and lucky girl. Linnea sighs all day over the romance of it all.”
Agnarr stuttered in his reply, unsure of what to say. “N – no, I haven’t…”
Lord Hannesel clapped a hand on his back again. “King Agnarr, we promised the people – we promised the world - that you would find a bride. And it seems you have. You spent the entire evening with one young woman, and have seen her every day since. If you haven’t asked her yet, you should.”
Other business was discussed, but Agnarr could hardly pay attention. He could marry Iduna! The council wanted him to marry Iduna! But just as quickly as the joy rose in his chest, a dark cloud of fear covered it and pushed it down. How could he marry her when she didn’t remember who he was? Who they had been and still were to each other?
***
Agnarr and Captain Calder went to the captain’s house as soon as the meeting ended, the words of congratulations ringing in Agnarr’s ears. He found Iduna sitting outside in the garden with Linnea, who was quickly ushered away by her father. Agnarr sat down next to Iduna and after a moment’s hesitation, took her hand. He felt braver at the touch. Iduna squeezed it and smiled at him.
“I like this house. I would like a home that feels this way. It’s so full of love and affection. I hope I had this once. And I hope to have it again.”
Agnarr gripped her hand more tightly and cleared his throat. “I would like that too. With you. If you are not yet recovered, we can wait. I will wait for you. But I want to give you that - a home with love and affection. Would you- would you marry me?” His voice caught as he said the words, remembering the Northuldra wedding they had witnessed together, how Iduna had whispered the translation to him and he had been filled with the desire to say those words to her in front of their own fathers, to promise her a warm fire and heavy furs, plentiful food in winter and a hand to hold in the summer sun. How he had asked her to marry him later that night and she had hugged him so tightly it knocked both of them over, their laughter echoing through the trees and causing a rush of ptarmigan and quail to hurry out of the brush, roused by the sound of her shouting “Yes!”.
Iduna reached for his other hand and squeezed it too. “Yes. I would like that. I would like that very much.” She leaned forward and he was amazed that the heat of her body, the scent of her, was the same even so far from the forest. He tried to erase his memory, to make it vanish like soldiers in the mist, to make this their first passionate kiss. He tried to think of this as the first time he found bliss with her lips on his, the sweetness and thrill of it so welcome after weeks of fear and terror. But he remembered being in a cave by a quiet stream, words said solemnly in handfast, his body covering hers, both eager in the pledge and the promise of it. A vow he would never break, but would renew time and time again.
***
There was so much about her identity that was uncertain. She didn’t know her favorite dessert or how to take her tea, which hymn to select for the ceremony. But this she knew. She wanted to be his wife. It was almost like remembering. The feel of his hand in hers, the press of their lips; his every touch felt both thrilling and reassuring. Sometimes when she was with him, she had half-memories of the time before her injury. The sensation of leaning into his body as they walked underneath the trees brought back a sense of comfort and peace, the wind swirling leaves around their feet brought a rush of joy and the desire to run and feel the strong gusts of it against her face. But even though those memories couldn’t have been of him or made with him, they made her feel closer to him somehow.
Linnea was enchanted by the news, clapping her hands and falling back on her bed with a sigh. “What a way to start your new life – Queen Iduna! Perhaps I should see about getting some pirates to help with my matchmaking!”
Elias hadn’t seemed pleased, but then, nothing much pleased him as he grew increasingly eager to wed his fiancée. He was probably just upset that the royal wedding was taking place so quickly while his engagement had been set at a year, a request from Thea’s parents so they could set up a new house for them as dowry.
She couldn’t explain to Linnea or Elias that she wasn’t excited to be queen, that it was a bit overwhelming to help lead a country when she still wasn’t sure which one she was even from. But the safety and attraction she felt for Agnarr defied all logic. Why was she so eager to take his hand, to talk in the moonlight until the first rays of sun reflected on the sea and he had to hurry to the castle to prepare for meetings and petitions and ceremonies? She wasn’t sure who she was, but she felt the most like herself when she was with him.
Mrs. Calder had urged her to live in the present since she couldn’t remember her past. She had encouraged her affections for Agnarr after the ball, though she told her she would always be welcome at their home as a daughter, and that she should only marry the king if she wanted to. Mrs. Calder also spoke of the good man Agnarr was, and how she had similarly trusted the kindness of her husband before she had known him very long, watching how he treated his sailors and her family while conducting trade. She talked about growing up in Trinidad, not accepted into society fully, not fully rejected. And how sailing to a completely new country was both a thrill and a terror, but one that led her to much happiness. At the end of their talk she had hugged Iduna tightly and told her to call her by her name, Elsa. Iduna thought This is a mother’s love.
***
The Calders hosted a small dinner for the royal couple the night before the kingdom-wide wedding and celebration the following day. Elias had taken Agnarr by the arm and dragged him into the shadows before letting him come into the house.
“Ag, you know this is crazy, right? You have to tell her. Tell her who she is and who you are to each other. Tell her about your secret marriage and your plan to make your father accept it.”
Agnarr shrugged him off, looking around him. “Don’t speak of that! It is still not safe for her.” He hissed in a low voice, glancing at his guard who stood nearby, hopefully out of hearing, but watching the pair with open curiosity. “What else can I do? The council demands that I wed. Is it better to marry someone I don't love while I still love Iduna? Doesn't that ruin an innocent life? Three lives?"
Elias shook his head. “I just know it’s wrong. It’s a hard way to start a marriage. Or in this case, continue one.”
Agnarr was firm. “I have to marry for the kingdom now. And she is the only one I will marry. There is no time for anything else. I can fix this. It won’t be a secret forever.”
Despite Elias’s cold welcome, the dinner was filled with laughter and joyful teasing. Mrs. Calder lamented that there was going to be one less person in the house to help her prevent Elias from sneaking out for nightly visits to Thea’s house.
“I promise you, Elias, if I have a grandchild born one minute before nine months after your wedding, the full wrath of the Arendelle navy will be dispatched upon you.”
Captain Calder choked a bit on his wine, laughing. “What’s that dear?”
Linnea tried a sip of the wine and made a face. “Oh Mother, please. We know Elias was born on a ship while you and Father sailed to Arendelle from Trinidad. You didn’t even make it to port for the wedding reception!”
Thea and Elias laughed, Agnarr and Iduna joining in with hands clasped under the table. Mrs. Calder put a hand to her chest in an exaggerated gesture of horror. "We were married on the ship! The wedding reception was just a formality to celebrate what had already happened on the ship!"
Linnea snorted. “Oh, we know what already happened on the ship!”
***
Later, when Elias walked Thea home and Agnarr walked with Iduna in the garden, he pulled at his collar, adjusted his sleeves and let go of her hand to wipe the sweat on his jacket. “I’m sure you’ve heard talk of heirs and securing the line of succession, but I want you to know that I don’t expect that, certainly not tomorrow on our wedding night. We can wait until your memory returns, or until you feel more settled. Or…uh…never.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I am happy to continue holding your hand and remaining your friend. I’m sure this has all been so much. We have time to get to know each other and for you to get to know yourself.”
Iduna again had that half-remembering sensation, hands joined and kisses on skin, promises and the trust of a long friendship. “I don’t want to wait. I would love to start a family with you. To have children. It would make me feel less alone, like I have a place here.” Agnarr put a hand on her cheek and she nestled into it, a heavy sigh of satisfaction escaping like smoke from the hearth.
“You will always have a place with me.”
Iduna closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand on her cheek, but then opened them as a thought came to her. "I don't even know if I'm a virgin. I know I’m not...with child. That has been made quite clear in this past month. But I can’t tell you about my past at all. I don’t know what’s expected of a queen, but I know purity is."
Agnarr pulled her closer, tucking his chin above her head, his hand running up and down her spine, calming her. “It doesn't matter.” His hands paused and he corrected himself. “I mean, of course it matters, your life and experiences matter. But I will cherish you no matter your past. Even if you were a pirate. I've pledged myself to you and I meant it.”
She laughed at that and they walked back inside, ready to make promises in front of the kingdom.
***
He brought a bottle of wine into their bedchamber, but she waved it off.
“My head has already been too altered. I want to know all of this, all of you, and to remember it clearly.”
She turned her back to him and when he stayed at the door, clutching the wine glasses and bottle, still and uncertain, she spoke over her shoulder. “Help me with the fastenings.” He could see the slight flush in her cheeks. It was a more enthralling red than the Bordeaux in his hands, one that was already sharpening his senses rather than dulling them.
“The maids put me in this dress; I don’t know how to get out of it.”
He set down the glasses and the wine and walked towards her slowly, deliberately, pausing at her sharp intake of breath when he put a hand on her shoulder. He kissed her there, and then began on the buttons that ran the length of her back. He moved cautiously, unfamiliar with the pearl buttons, not wanting to tear the lace fasteners, and waiting for her breath to sound even and calm. He kissed her each time a button was undone – on her shoulder, on her neck, on her ear and paused when she shuddered. He smiled faintly. That had always been her favorite spot and it comforted him to know it still pleased her. When he got to her waist he untied the strings of her petticoats, his fingers working the knots while he nuzzled his head into her neck. He whispered into her ear.
“Should I keep going?”
“I think I can step out of it now.” Her voice had a husky quality that he recalled too keenly, its effect on him immediate.
He helped her slide the dress over her hips, the yards of silk and heavy layers falling away and she shivered as it pooled on the ground. She turned to face him and shivered again, a tremble that ran the length of her body. She stood in her chemise, hugging herself tightly, and there was a moment when they were both very still and quiet, looking at one another. Agnarr was trying to control his breathing, to keep any expression of the desperate want he felt off his face, determined not to frighten her. He put out a hand and she took it and stepped out of the dress.
“Are you alright?” He swallowed.
She nodded. “Yes. Just cold. Warm me?”
He reached to cup her cheek with his hand and she turned her mouth to kiss it, then took it and placed it on her chest, holding it so he could feel her. His heartbeat quickened.
“I like when you touch me.” Her voice was soft and he was unable to tear his gaze from her mouth. To feel anything more than her heat burning through the thin cloth that separated him from her skin. “You don’t have to be so slow. I want this too.”
His intention had been to go slowly, to just sleep with her in his arms, to ease her through their transition from acquaintances to newlyweds. But the smell of her hair and the curve of her body against his all night was no longer enough. He wanted this too. He had ached for it ever since he had been told she was safe and whole, save her memory. He had missed the comfort of her warmth and the wordless, gentle love and acceptance she had communicated through their act of joining together during their Before.
He moved closer and kissed her, running his tongue along her lips and then breaking away to kiss all the places he knew would earn a shudder of pleasure, a gasp of excitement, a plea for more. He could prevent his words from betraying that he knew her, but their bodies spoke to each other in a primal way that was heady and familiar. Mouths found favorite places to kiss and nip, hands instinctively knew where to gently press or tightly grip. They turned as they kissed, rotating towards the bed and soon the back of his knees hit against it. He lifted her up and laid her down, then undid his buttons before joining her there.
Later, with her head on his bare chest and his arm around her waist, she stroked his arm and said something that made his heart remember what he had tried to forget.
“I don't think I could have done that before. I surely would have remembered.”
***
“How the fuck is she already pregnant, Agnarr?”
Agnarr looked at Elias. His friend’s mouth was in a tight line, no smile in his eyes. “The usual way.”
“Does she know? Did you tell her?”
Agnarr’s silence was the answer and Elias hit the table in frustration.
“Don’t forget, I’m your king.”
“Yes, you’re my king. And a much better man than your father, or so I thought. Is there something about the crown that makes you forget other people have feelings worth considering? Should I be impressed you waited until her injuries were healed before you took her to bed?” He scoffed, derision dripping from his voice. “Such self-restraint.”
Agnarr glared at him. “She was eager to start a family. I didn’t pressure her. She wanted this too.”
“This is wrong. And it gets worse each day you don’t tell her. The lie grows bigger and when your wife finds out, the lie will be so big between you, you won’t even be able to see each other over the chasm it created. You can’t let Iduna think you don’t know her, that she doesn’t know you.”
Agnarr’s face again took on the familiar lines Elias knew, ones of worry and self-doubt and concern. “But she doesn’t know me.”
***
On walks in the woods and the gardens he had to pretend he didn’t know which smells she’d like best or which animal she would delight in spotting the most. And it was a pang in his heart each time she had to be told the names of trees and flowers and herbs once so familiar to her that she could brew tea with them, create a poultice, play a prank with itchy nettles on her interfering brothers.
It was easier, now that she was pregnant. Everything was new to both of them. Her cravings, the way her body grew and changed, the names they discussed, the fluttering of kicks and the wonder of a life forming inside of her. A new world was opening before them and they could enter it at the same time, equally novice, equally eager, equally delighted to turn two into three.
#agduna#frozen#mama and papa arendelle#king agnarr#queen iduna#agnarr#iduna#baby elsa#amnesia AU#vanished#frozen fan fic#blame the-spastic-fantastic for the wedding night scene#I'm still blushing#and I took out a paragraph#to be made available upon request lol
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You’re my best friend; John Deacon x reader
*Author’s note*
Okay wow I can’t believe I almost missed this deadline but I had this story already up on my Wattpad for the past 2 months so I wanted to transfer it once this deadline came. This is for @writing-of-a-british-bitch‘s 1k challenge and I asked to do the “Your my best friend” song choice.
Now some things had transpired between joining this contest and the time I decided to write it and I really needed to get this pain out. As some of you may know from a post over 2 months ago, I lost my baby black kitty Sassy to Kidney failure. And I realize this was meant to be a fluff fic but I couldn’t help but really write this fic in memory of my baby girl. So some fluff and angst but sadly mostly angst is in this fic. So I apologize if I kinda went back on my word Phoebe but I hope this is still okay for your contest.
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@kairosfreddie
@dancingcoolcat
@geek-and-proud
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Kidney Failure. Those are two words that no pet owner wants to hear. My beautiful baby girl Sassy had officially been diagnosed with Kidney failure as well as Kidney stones. At first with her not eating I thought she was just being a little stubborn, then after doing some scary research on why senior cats won't eat, it showed signs of her dying. Then after seeing her cough up some blood early one morning before I wanted to go see a movie, I was told by my parents to take her straight to the vet.
And since I was dealing with this all alone, I was forced to be told by myself and suffer for a full day of the news of my precious black kitty. I had gotten her 15 years ago shortly after my first cat Missy died. She was rescued by an independent rescue woman who had a house full of cats, out of thousands of cats she had, a small, tiny and very skittish kitten stood out of all the rest. Even though at the time my mom wanted a white cat with blue eyes and pink ears, we fell in love with this cute little girl, and I named her Sassy after the cat from Homeward Bound.
For years she was always the skittish girl. Anytime a doorbell would ring, she'd rush out and hide all day. But she was the sweetest cat anyone could ask for. I would always bring her up into my room whenever things got too stressful in my life, or I just wanted to be with her. I'd put her on my bed and just let her sleep there for all hours of the day.
As time went on, she even came to my own rescue like when I got my wisdom teeth removed and I had to recover up in my room. The first night, Sassy had actually came up into my room willingly, hopped right on my bed and slept right beside me for about 3 hours. She's my baby and now she's suffering the same fate my male cat did just several years ago.
My girl's always been the one with health problems throughout her life. First it was the UTI's, then bladder stones, and now she has to take some pills for her thyroid for the rest of her life (she's been on the thyroid pills for roughly about 3 years now), but this—this just blows everything out the window cause now it's evident that she's possibly coming close to the end of her days.
The vet told me what all needed to happen, a couple days of IV to get her fully hydrated, some anti-biotics, and just keeping her as comfortable as possible. So she went through the two days of IV, she's currently on the antibiotic and just has 3 more days to take it while still taking her thyroid pills (I now had to resort to giving it to her liquidly through a syringe since she no longer does the pill pockets anymore).
I don't wanna lose my baby girl. She's my life, my baby, my best friend and I—I don't know what I'm gonna do when the time comes for her when she finally.....
"(Y/n)?" I looked up and there was my dad.
"Hey dad."
"Sweetie, how are you doing? Really?" he said as he came into my room and sat down by my bed.
"I—I'm scared dad. I don't wanna lose my girl. On top with all the stress of trying to find a job, I just can't even focus on anything else but my baby girl."
"I know, I know sweetie." He brought me closer for a hug and I allowed the tears to softly fall down my face. "Maybe—you should get out of the house. Go see those friends of yours, isn't that offer for you to join them at the farm still available?"
"But dad I don't wanna leave Sassy behind. What if she dies while I'm away? That's already what happened to both Hudson and Missy because of school. And I promised that if it ever came Sassy's time I wouldn't allow anything to keep me away from her."
"But if you just solely keep focused on her, you're only gonna make yourself sick. What you need now is time to yourself, spend it with your friends, maybe they can help you out. Maybe even John can help you see. Cause at this rate I feel like you'll only listen to that boyfriend of yours." I softly chuckled as he did to.
"I think I'll just surprise them. They always drop by unannounced at my place either way." He chuckled and said.
"Whatever you want to do. I will watch Sassy for you and make sure she's comfortable. And I promise you if anything does happen, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks dad. I'm glad you came back early."
"Of course. Sassy's important to all of us." I nodded. "You get some sleep now okay sweetie, you've got a long drive ahead of you." I nodded again as my dad kissed the top of my head and gave me a big bear hug.
Once he left my room after shutting my door, I lay there on my bed and allowed the tears to continue to fall as I silently cried myself to sleep.
A few hours later I was on the open road heading towards Rockfield farm where my friends and boyfriend John Deacon. Oh yeah I forgot to mention, John Deacon of Queen is my long time boyfriend. We got together roughly at around Year 10 of secondary school, and even though we ended up going to different colleges, we still kept close to each other with visits and holiday stuff.
In fact, I was the one who convinced him to try out for Queen since I had Freddie Mercury in an art class of mine. And he just decided to take me in as his best friend since we both loved cats (the first time I showed him a picture of my two furbabies he was hooked and wanted to know everything about them).
So I introduced John to the band when Fred told me they needed a new bassist, he auditioned and—the rest was history. As mentioned earlier they were currently at Rockfield farm studios recording their next album 'A Night at the Opera'. Deacy had offered the chance for me to tag along as moral support/citizen critic but when I told him that I was worried about Sassy, he understood but kept the offer open in case I changed my mind.
After what felt like an eternity of driving I finally arrived at the farm just a little bit after 10:30am. I parked the car right next to a blue beetle and got out of my car after shutting off the engine. I looked around the place and saw that it was definitely far out of civilization and distractions, maybe this could be what I needed.
"(Y/n)?" I heard a voice say. I turned around and wearing a pink woman's top and white pants holding a cigarette between his fingers was none other than Freddie Mercury.
"Hey Fred."
"Oh darling it's been so long come here!" I walked over to him as he tossed the cigarette aside into the gravel and extended his arms out. I was then given the biggest bear hug that Freddie is known to give. "Why didn't you tell us we were coming?"
"Figured I surprise you all. You're not pissed are you?"
"Absolutely not dear, a visit from you is like seeing an angel grace our presence. And maybe this time Deacy can pick up the slack." I softly giggled as we separated from each other. "So how are things at home? Deacy said poor Sassy was feeling under the weather, how is the little dear?" at that point I grew sad again. "(Y/n)? Dear was it something I said?"
"Freddie I—the reason I came here was because of Sassy. She's—not doing so good." At that point his face grew worried.
"Come darling, let's sit on the porch swing and talk. You look like you're about to burst into tears." He wrapped an arm around me as we walked towards the front porch of the house and sat down on the cushioned porch swing. Freddie sat to my left and said, "Now then darling, tell me everything." I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him.
"Last Sunday Mary and I were planning on going to see a movie, but as I was getting around I had seen Sassy laying near where she had just spit up, but what scared me was that there was blood mixed with the phlegm that she had puked up. So I called Mary and told her I had to take her to the vet, they ran some tests on her and......" I sniffled and felt the tears starting to come back. "Freddie she's suffering from kidney failure." He gasped in horror as he covered his mouth with his hand.
"Oh my god......(y/n) I—I'm so sorry dear. Oh come here you." He brought me close into his chest and tears once again began to fall down my face. "Oh my poor dear, I can't imagine what you must be feeling. If it were one of my darlings, I'd be feeling just as heartbroken as you. How—how long has she got?"
"Well thankfully the doctor said if we just keep an eye on her. Cause she's still drinking water, going to the bathroom, and eating when she wants to she could live a little while longer. But Freddie—she's 6lbs now and every time you hold her—you can just feel her bones. It's like picking up a stuffed animal at this point."
"Oh the poor little darling. Does she still walk?"
"Yeah she can still walk, but she—she drags her back legs or stumbles around before just giving up. We're trying to keep her on the main level of our house trying to limit the amount of times of her going either up or down the stairs. Sometimes she'll eat twice a day, sometimes it'll take her well over 24 hours before she eats again."
"Okay. So what all have you done for her?"
"Well she had to do 2 days of IV to get her rehydrated. Now she's on an antibiotic for the next ten days, she'll be done with it in three days so my dad's gonna finish it all off. He said I needed a break from all the stress cause along with her being sick and me struggling to find a job, I've barely been able to keep myself together."
"Your dad's a smart man. Cause dear no offense but you really look like shit."
"Gee thanks Freddie." I sassed back sarcastically.
"Now, now I don't mean any offense by it. I'm just—"
"I know what you mean Fred. Its just—I don't wanna lose my baby girl. I know she's getting older hell she's 16 years old. But I—I don't wanna lose my baby just yet. Not when my life is fully about to begin."
"I know darling, I know." He comforted me as he rubbed my back. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "Listen to me, okay? You gave that beautiful black cat the best 16 years of her life. And who knows maybe she'll tough it out and stick with you for another 3 years. She knows you love her, and knows that you are doing everything to take care of her."
"You truly are the cat guru Freddie."
"Well comes with experience. But I've seen for myself the love you've given that precious thing. And, god forbid, when the day does come for her to move on, she'll have you to thank for being the best mummy cat she's ever had. And loved her even with her being the skittish thing that she was. Cause other than you, I would've been the only one to see the potential in her."
"Yeah she was a precious thing when I saw her and briefly got to play with her when she was just a kitten." Freddie wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and he asked me.
"Feeling any better?"
"A little. Thanks Freddie. It takes a cat parent to understand just what I'm going through."
"I'm always here for you dear. And hey, just so you know, my furbabies are your furbabies. They love you just as much as your own do, so anytime you need to come over, they'll be happy to see you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Shall I get Deacy?"
"Actually I would like to come in, I've been driving since 1am this morning and I could really use a bed right now."
"Or is it just so you and Deacy can—"
"Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!" he chuckled and said.
"Of course dear, come in come in I'll grab your bags." I went to protest but he stopped me, "No darling I will not take no for an answer." He grabbed my suitcases and we entered inside the house.
It was a charming little house of sorts with old knick-knacks, pictures whether painted or old photographs, and completely wooded interior. Kinda reminded me of my grandparent's place a little bit, a true country home.
"My darlings, we've got a surprise visitor with us to—" Freddie announced as we came into the kitchen. "Oh fuck seriously Roger? I thought I heard a crash but never did I think you'd go that far."
"What else do you expect Fred? Brian said my song wasn't strong enough so I figured I'd show him if this was strong enough!!"
"Perhaps I shouldn't have come after all." I made myself known. At that point Deacy popped right out of his seat and rushed right over towards me and embraced me. I hugged him back and buried my face into his neck. God every time I got a hug from the love of my life, I was already happy and at home with him.
"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"
"And miss the surprise look on your face? I don't think so." He chuckled before separating from me to cup the side of my face. I felt his calloused thumb stroke my cheek gingerly and he placed a soft kiss to my brow.
"Ugh it's too early for you guys to act all lovie-dovie!" Roger complained.
"Oh put a sock in it Rog!" I sassed at him.
"It really is good to see you here (y/n). so what brought on this surprise visit?" asked Brian. My smile dropped and I solemnly looked down.
"My love?" Deacy asked concerned.
"Deacy dear why don't you take (y/n) downstairs to your room and get her situated. She could really use some sleep right now, then come back up and I'll explain everything." Freddie set my stuff down and went up to Brian and Roger and wrapped his arms around their shoulders to guide them out of the kitchen.
"What's he talking about love?"
"It's—the reason why I'm here isn't a happy reason. I wish it was but I—"
"Okay, okay, okay relax. Calm down my love. Come on let's go downstairs, though I must warn you the room isn't very big."
"I'll take whatever it is Johnny." He grabbed my suitcases as wrapped an arm around me as he guided me towards the basement stairs.
And boy was he ever right. How could my beloved possible sleep in a room this cramped, not to mention cold? He set my stuff right by his before guiding me to the bed. He sat down close to me and said.
"Do you want to tell me? Or should I go up to see Freddie?"
"I—I can tell you."
"You sure?" I nodded. "Alright, if you say so. But before you speak, take a couple of deep breaths with me, okay?" he slowly breathed in and I followed behind him. We held our breath for three seconds before slowly exhaling out for five. We did this together over and over and over again till finally I was ready to tell him, and I told him everything in regard to Sassy.
As I explained everything, every now and then I would stop because I could feel tears springing in my eyes. Jesus just when I thought I had cried my last tear, they still keep coming. But my sweet, loving John had tissues at the ready and he would hand me one to wipe my face, before sitting himself even closer to me resting his head on top of mine while his arms were wrapped around me rubbing either my back or arms comfortingly.
"Oh my love. You should've called me as soon as you were told the news. You know I would've dropped everything just to be with you, to comfort you through this." He said once I had finished telling him everything.
"I didn't want to disturb you John. This album is really important to Queen and I—didn't want to distract you."
"Fuck the album, you're my first priority."
"John."
"I mean it (y/n). if you ever asked me to leave the band I will."
"You know I would never ask that of you."
"I know, I'm just saying I would. I just—I just hate the fact that I had to let you get the news alone. I knew your dad left to spend time with your mum for their anniversary together which left you to take care of Sassy and Phoebe, and to get such news all on your own." He kissed my cheek and softly stroked my cheek.
"Why are you so good to me?"
"Your my best friend, (y/n). I'll always be good to you." He leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I cupped the side of his face before separating from him and pressing my forehead to his while I felt his nose graze against mine.
I then wrapped my arms around his neck while I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close to him so that I practically sitting on his lap. I felt his hand rub comforting circles on my back before slowly leaning back. The slightly rickety bed creaked and it was definitely a tight squeeze, but we somehow made it work with me practically lying on top of him, our legs tangled up with each other's and my head resting against his chest.
"God how did you manage to sleep on this tiny bed?" I asked.
"Trust me it's not easy. But somehow I've managed."
"The boys didn't boot you down here did they?"
"No, Paul actually gave me this room. Said that small ones don't get nearly as cold."
"Aww Deacy I'm so sorry." I cupped his jawline to which he nuzzled against my hand and gave my palm a kiss.
"Not your fault. But how are you, really (y/n)."
"Truthfully my head is literally killing me."
"Probably from dehydration from all the crying you must've been doing." He said as I felt him stroke down my hair. He kissed my forehead and set me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water and snacks for you. Gotta get you rehydrated and eating again." He pecked my nose and I smiled at him.
"Thank you Johnny."
"Anytime my love. Stay here, I'll be right back." He brushed the hair out of my face before giving me a soft peck before heading upstairs. I sighed and rested my head onto the pillows and inhaled John's scent from his shampoo that I had bought for him. It gave me a sense of comfort even while he was gone for a brief moment.
He came back down with a bottle of water and a couple bags of crisps.
"You really went all out didn't you?" I teased.
"Well if I know you, I know that when you get really sad, you tend to skip meals. And I know this isn't really the best thing for you to eat right now, but it's all we've got since Roger knocked down the leftovers bitching about his car song."
"His car song?"
"It's better if you don't ask." He sat down on the floor beside me and laid out the bags of crisps then unscrewed the bottle cap of water before placing the straw in. He held it out to me and I took a sip of it. After taking a long drink, he set it down on the nightstand right beside the bed and opened up one of the bags of crisps and proceeded to feed me.
"I can feed myself you know."
"I know, but you've been under a lot of pressure lately. With the unsuccessful job hunts as well as Sassy being sick, the least I can do is pamper you my darling. Now c'mon open up." He guided a potato crisp towards my mouth and I opened my mouth as he popped it inside my mouth.
Deacy kept on feeding me as well as giving me sips of water. Finally after feeling full from the crisps, he set them aside and crawled back into the bed with me.
"Wait, don't you have some recording to do?"
"I talked to the guys about it, I'm gonna stay here and take care of my baby today."
"No Deacy I—I'll just delay your schedule......"
"It's already said and done love, besides Freddie insisted that I stay with you. I can make up my bits tomorrow." I looked up at him and said.
"Thank you Deacy, it—this means a lot. Really, with Sassy being—"
"Shhhh, shhh. Just sleep my love. You really need it." He whispered as he gingerly stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I closed my eyes and cuddled close to him, his hand tucked underneath my shirt and I felt his nails gently stroke up and down my back comfortingly. The mixture of his scent, his breathing and his heartbeat was like a lullaby that soothed me to sleep.
A week later, I was starting to feel a bit better than I had back at home. Deacy and the boys provided the perfect distraction, Freddie gave me a mini piano lesson as he was practicing his latest masterpiece that he deemed was going to change music forever, Brian and I would take pictures of the guys whether for his scrapbooking or just out of plain goofiness, and Roger—well Roger spent three days in a cupboard but at least he was still willing to talk to me even through the cupboard.
And of course Deacy was an angel with the warm cuddles and bass playing. I've always found comfort in seeing him play the bass, he was in his element and it was amazing to see him break out of the shy exterior and just be him. I was laying on the couch in the studio and he was fiddling around with his bass.
"Can you play me something?" I asked. He looked up and he asked.
"What would you like me to play? Liar? White Queen?"
"Do you think you can give me a sneak peek at a song from this album?"
"Well legally I'm not allowed to but....off the record if there were no Prenter nor sound engineer to be around." He stated as he got up and went over to the sound station and flipped a couple of switches.
"You clever, devious man." I giggled.
"That's why you love me. C'mere." I got up from the couch and went up to the chair he was now sitting at. He extended his hand as I got closer to him and I took his hand. He then had me sit down on his lap and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "This was finished the night before you came to the farm. I.....I had you in mind when I was writing it."
"Oh god Deacy please tell me it's nothing like Misfire was."
"No not this time. I promise, and in a way....you can think of this song as yours and Sassy's song." He turned on the switch and soon playing through the speakers was an electric sounding instrument. "That's me on the electric piano."
"Really?"
"Yeah, Fred wanted absolutely no part of it so I sat down all night learning how to play it so that I could have it ready for recording." I awed at him and he gave me a peck to my temple and I soon heard the magnificent vocalizations of all four of my boys singing at once, their voices backtracked by their own voices making it sound like there was an entire choir backing them up. Freddie's god-like voice singing the gentle melody of the words.
"What's it called?"
"You're my best friend." He lay my head on his shoulder and the two of us listened to the song together. I'll admit the lyrics did fit Sassy to a T. She has been there for me before in the past and she was always the one I turned to when things got rough and no one else was there for me.
When the song finally ended, I turned to John and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck.
"That is literally the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you John."
"I'm glad you liked it love."
"Like? Deacy 'like' doesn't even begin to describe what this song meant to me. You and Sassy are both my best friends."
"And I'm happy to share you, even if it is with a feline." I giggled and playfully nudged his shoulder which made him chuckle. "God I've really missed seeing you smile."
"What are you talking about? I've been smiling the whole time I was here."
"Oh you mean the ones that don't reach up to your eyes, the smiles that don't make your eyes twinkle and a laugh come out of that beautiful mouth of yours. Yeah those were real smiles." He sassed sarcastically.
"Okay smartass. Maybe I've—still been depressed about not being with my girl."
"And there's nothing wrong with missing her. But you also need to learn to take care of yourself as well. You looked absolutely exhausted when you first arrived, it was like you'd hardly slept a wink." I looked down shamefully. "I just want you to realize that in order for you to be there for Sassy, you also need to learn to take care of yourself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say my love?"
"Yes Deacy, I understand. I'm sorry."
"Hey, you've got no reason to be sorry. You caring about Sassy this much proves that you're a good cat mum. And maybe in the future, you'll be the same way with our own child." I smiled through a choked sob. I buried my face into John's neck as I felt his hand go underneath my shirt and once again stroking my bare skin sending comforting shivers up my back.
"I love you so much John Deacon."
"I love you so much too (y/n) (l/n)." I looked up at him and he smiled down at me softly and kissed the center of my forehead, the tip of my nose, both cheeks then finally a soft and loving kiss to my lips. "Besides, I always knew one surefire way to get that beautiful smile on your face." Oh shit.
I immediately got off his lap and went back to the couch and held the pillow out in front of me.
"Why ever did you flee from me my love?" he asked in a mocked hurt tone.
"Not another step Deacon. I know what your method is and you're not doing it."
"Whatever do you mean?" oh that little rotter he was taunting me.
"Don't make me say it Deacy!" I begged as I buried my body into the covers leaving only my head to the outside world.
"Well you're gonna have to cause all I'm doing is walking towards you and all you're doing is trying to hide yourself under the blankets and pillows." He continued to taunt as he now hovered over me, his body pinning mine to the couch.
"Deacy no!" I whined.
"No what?"
"Deacy!"
"You're gonna have to specify what I can't do my darling." He cupped the side of my face after tucking some hair behind my ear and captured my lips in a seductive kiss. He almost had me under his spell, that was until I felt him squeeze my sides through the blanket. I squealed and tried to buck him off me but he stayed on top of me. "My, my, my, what have we here?"
"John I swear to god I'll kill you if you do it."
"Do what? All I did was just graze your sides and you just reacted to it. Now what do they call that thing again when people get so sensitive to a light touch?" he pondered.
My god this little shit was good. He was trying to force me to say it.
"John please!" I begged to him with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.
"Aww look at you pleading and begging with those eyes, it's so adorable. But it won't stop me. Now answer my question." I felt him squeeze my sides again and I let out a soft shrieked laugh. "God if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want me to......"
"Tickle me!" I blurted out.
"What a wonderful idea! You always were terribly ticklish." I then pushed him off of me and decked out of the recording studio and began racing around the barn.
I went inside the barn and tried to duck through or go around any beams I could find.
"You're not going to escape from me (n/n). You know you were always the slowest runner."
"Shut up Deacon! It's cause you always cheated with those long legs of yours!" I snapped as I ducked through the hay storage bin before getting out on the other side.
Deacy continued to chase after me for what felt like forever. And I don't know when they became involved or why they chose to do it, but somehow Roger and Freddie got involved with the chase and I was soon tackled out in the field by Roger and he was the first to start tickling me before Freddie then finally my boyfriend Deacy joined in the attack.
The three of them tickling me non-stop till I was red in the face and could barely breathe. Fred and Rog would've gone on forever had John not stopped them and forced them to let me breathe. Once I was able to catch my breath, I turned towards the two troublemakers and said.
"Where.....in the hell.....did you two.....come from?"
"From London." Freddie bluntly shrugged.
"I know that smartass. I meant during the chase." I groaned.
"Oh that well when we saw Deacy chasing you, Fred and I just want in on the action. It didn't matter what we had to do, just as long as it got you to smile kid." Roger said as he gave my hair a ruffle, messing it up.
"Roger! Rog you're messing up my hair!" I said as I tried to get his hand off my head but he would keep putting it back on top and messing my hair up even further.
"But you've got to admit darling, we did get you to smile that fabulous smile that can only be compared to Mary's." said Freddie as he wrapped an arm around me. "Plus didn't that help you just a little bit?"
"Yeah I guess so. Thanks guys, for real this week has—literally been a life saver. I think I'm ready to head back home tomorrow."
"What so soon? But darling we were just having so much fun!" whined Freddie as he brought me close to his chest.
"Plus you help lessen the stress that Prenter causes us." Said Rog.
"And the stress we cause each other. You sure you can't stay a bit longer?"
"Sorry Deacy, I gotta get back to my girl." He rubbed my back and said.
"Okay. Just—promise to call me in case anything happens. You know I'll gladly drop things here to be with you." I cupped the side of his face and stared at him lovingly.
"I'll even allow us to take time off the album so that all of us can be there for you darling." Fred said I turned towards him and Roger and saw that Roger nodded agreeing with both Fred and Deacy.
"You guys—how did I ever get lucky to have such good friends like you all?"
"You've honestly been a blessing to us dear. Never doubt that." Soon I was in a group hug with the front man, the drummer and the bassist of Queen.
The next morning I was all packed up and was hugging the guys goodbye and thanking them for helping me out this past week. I had just gotten done hugging Rog and Bri and I was now at Freddie. He smiled at me and embraced me tightly and he said in my ear.
"You be sure to call us with any updates Sassy's got."
"I will I promise." He separated from me and kissed both my cheeks.
"Drive safe (y/n) dear."
"Will do Fred." I then turned towards the love of my life, my best friend. He held his arms out and I immediately went into them and hugged him back.
"I'm so glad that you came to visit love. Drive safely back home, and call me whenever you get there."
"I will, promise me you'll continue to work hard on the album."
"Will do love." He kissed me but it was shortly interrupted by Prenter exclaiming.
"Enough of this already the boys need to get back to work!"
"Alright Prenter that's it come here!" Roger then charged after Prenter which made John and I laugh softly.
"Should we try to stop him?" I asked.
"Nah, let him take his prey. Besides he deserves it, Prenter's an arsehole anyway." He kissed my temple softly before hugging me one last time. I got into my car and waved goodbye to the guys one last time before taking off back down towards the main road.
Three days later after returning from the farm, I was back at home just waking up for the day. I once again saw Sassy lying there on the couch just like she was last night. I sighed and went up to Sassy and pet her and she shot her head up and looked at me.
"Hey baby girl, ready for your medicine?" she just looked at me before laying her head down. I went over to the sink and prepped the water bottle cap (at this point she had stopped taking the pill pockets, and since I could no longer force it down her, I resorted to liquidating the ¼ pill).
After waiting a couple of minutes I sucked the water into a syringe and walked back over to the couch. Gently as I could, I picked her up and she let out a weak meow.
"I know baby, I know. But this is just the water one this time. You got done with the antibiotic awhile ago." I placed the syringe into her mouth and she weakly opened her mouth but was still able to take in the water. Once she took it all in, I kissed her and took her over to the water bowl cause I knew she probably drink any water since last night. "Here we go baby, drink up."
I gently set her down and she merely just lay there for a moment before realizing where she was. Her head shot up and she reached her paw over the water bowl like how she normally drinks and went face first into the water, her usual way of drinking water.
Once she had her fill after lying down a few times before going back up again to drink some more. I picked her up once more and set her back down on the couch. Since it was a sunny day for the first time in a while, I decided to let my girl sunbathe, her favorite thing to do whenever the sun was out.
"Here you go little mama." I cooed as I stroked her head and kissed it. I then went back upstairs and got ready for the day. The phone rang and I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"
'Hey sweetie. Whatcha doin?' it was my dad's voice.
"Oh just—getting around and all that."
'Ahh I see. How's our girl doing?'
"She's....hanging in there." I looked towards her to see her still breathing.
'Okay good, good. So what have you got on the agenda for today?'
"Well Mikaela is coming to pick me up and we're gonna hang out for my graduation/pre b-day plans."
'Ahh I see, what time is she coming over?'
"About 10ish."
'Okay well you girls have fun and I will talk at you later okay?'
"Okay daddy, love you."
'Love you too sweetie, bye.'
"Bye." I hung up the phone and turned back towards my baby. I walked up to her and as I touched her, her paws twitched and she turned and looked up at me. "I love you so much baby girl." I kissed her head and she turned away from me. With a heavy sigh, I walked back upstairs and got around.
A couple minutes later at 10:07am I walked back downstairs to see Phoebe sitting up on the table looking at Sassy's food bowl that was there.
"Phoebe get down!" I snapped at her. She meowed as she hopped down and ran off. That's when I looked down to see the most horrifying sight I would ever see in my life.
Sassy's eyes were glazed over, and I couldn't see her breathing anymore.
"Sassy? Sassy? Sassy!" I touched her fur hoping to see her react but when he jaw went slacked, tears sprung in my eyes and I fell to my knees. I picked her up in my arms and held her close to me as I sobbed. "Sassy! No! No! No! Sassy please no!" I sobbed as I paced around the room hoping that she would wake up but all she did was lay limp against my shoulder. I placed her down on the loveseat to see if she would breathe again but she didn't.
Sassy was gone.
I ran up to the phone and dialed my dad's number and pleaded softly that he would pick up.
'Hello?' he asked.
"Daddy."
'Yeah?' his voice sounded concerned as soon as he heard the heartbreak in my voice.
"I think Sassy's dead!" I sobbed out.
'Oh my god our cat just died.'
"She was fine earlier as I said. She drank some water but when I came back downstairs I noticed that she's no longer breathing, her eyes are glazed over and she's just limp every time I hold her!"
'Okay, okay (y/n) calm down okay sweetie. Calm down. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get her cat carrier and a towel.'
"Okay."
'Okay? Then put the towel in the cat carrier and then I want you to gently put her in and take her to the vet, okay? They'll work out the cremation process.'
"Okay."
'And sweetie listen to me. At least she died at home, okay? She passed away peacefully, safe and at home instead of a cold, strange metal table. Because I had to go through that with Hudson and it was not a pretty sight. It broke me, but you gave Sassy a happy life and even with you taking care of her on your own for a while she knew you loved her.' I choked out a sob and nodded.
"I know."
'Okay but go take her to the vet, I'll call your mom and she'll get in touch with the vet.' I nodded.
"Okay I'll take her to the vet."
'Okay now your mom will be available all day for you if you need to get in touch with her. I've got a meeting to get to in the next while. But call your mom anytime you need to talk.'
"Okay."
'Okay I love you sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. At least she's not suffering anymore and that she's now at peace.'
"Yeah."
'Alright sweetie, I love you so much.'
"I love you too."
'Bye.'
"Bye." I hung up the phone and proceeded to get her ready to take her to the vet one last time. I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and tucked it in her cat carrier. I looked down at my baby with tears pouring down my face. Once I got her in the cat carrier on her side, I quickly wrote a note for Mikaela and taped it to the door before finally rushing out to my car and race towards the vet.
When I got there, I stood there waiting for what felt like forever in the small vet clinic till finally one of the vet techs came in. She walked over to me, empathy in her eyes and she said.
"Your mum called and told us what happened. We'll get started with the cremation process, are there any questions you have for us?"
"Just.....just make sure that this is for real. I—don't wanna try anything unless I know it's for real."
"Okay." She took my cat carrier and walked into the back room. I sat down by the window trying to calm myself down. The doors opened and there stood my best friend Mikaela.
"Hey I got your message, are you okay?"
"I don't know dude. Thank god you're here though."
"Of course, of course." She sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around me. It was then the vet came in from the back room and he greeted me.
"She has passed away. Along with the kidney stones and failure, she also suffered a stroke." I covered my mouth with my hand and allowed the tears to pour down my face even more. "We can prep the cremation. Would you like the pawprint as well as her ashes or just the pawprint?"
"Just the pawprint." I replied.
"Okay, before we take her away would you like to see her?" I turned to Mikaela before turning back to the vet and said.
"Yes."
"Okay. Come back with me." I followed behind him and Mikaela told me she'd wait outside. I went through the back door and right there on the table I saw my baby girl lying right on her stomach, her front paws extended outwards and her eyes still glassed over, her fangs exposed as her jaw was still slightly lacked.
"Take all the time you need." the vet told me as one of the technicians came and covered up just her lower body. I nodded before leaning down and pet her one last time, trying to imprint her soft fur into my hand, and my memory.
"At least she died at home, where she was most happiest." Said one of the female vet technicians.
"Yeah. She—she was sunbathing on the couch. She always loved it when the sun was out and I would open up the blinds."
"Yeah. I'll bet she really appreciated it."
"It just—with all the health problems she's had throughout her life I just hoped that....."
"I understand. Especially with all that she had been through for the past week." I nodded before turning back to my baby girl. I knelt down and gave her one final kiss before finally saying.
"Okay. Okay I—I think I'm ready." Then another vet tech came up and fully covered up my baby girl forever, the final step in pronouncing her dead.
"We'll get in contact with your mom about the billing. Again we're so sorry for your loss." The same vet tech that I was talking to earlier about my baby girl.
"Thank you." I said thanks the vet techs as well as the vet for all that they've done for Sassy for her last 2 weeks of life. I walked out of the back room and Mikaela came up and hugged me as we left the vet.
When I got back home I called my mom and told her that she could take care of the billing. After that I said.
"I'm sorry about all this dude I know we had plans and all but—"
"No, no, no, no it's fine. Do—you wanna call John and tell him? Or do you want me to talk for you?"
"I think I can tell him. He loved Sassy as much as I did." I picked the phone up once more and dialed the number for the farm that Deacy gave me before they left. It rang about five times before I heard a voice say.
'Hello?' Oh god why did it have to be him?
"Paul. Can I speak to John please?"
'Oh (y/n) I'm afraid he's too busy to talk right now. Since you distracted the guys they're way behind schedule with the album. They have to work twice as long just to meet the upcoming deadline.'
'Oi Prenter why are you answering the phone!? Thought I told you that you weren't allowed to take calls anymore!' Roger's loud voice proclaimed. I then heard the signs of a struggle and Paul's painful cry as Roger's voice spoke up. 'Talk to me.'
"Rog."
'(Y/n), hey what's going on?'
"Is Deacy too busy to talk?"
'Oh absolutely not, hang on a second love okay? OI DEACY!!! YOUR GIRL'S ON THE LINE COME OVER HERE!' Once again there was silence before I heard John's voice at last.
'(Y/n)? What's going on love is everything okay?' my lip quivered as I gasped out a sob. '(Y/n)? Love you're scaring me.'
"She's gone Deacy." I choked out.
'Oh my god. (N/n) I—I'm so sorry. Was she—'
"On the couch in the sun. It was almost an hour ago."
'Jesus Christ. But (y/n) you were there for her like you always said you wanted to be, and she's no longer in any pain, she's at peace. And she's up in heaven with her brother and meeting her older sister. The cat you had before you got her.'
"I know. I'm—I'm sorry I'm distracting you—"
'No, no, no, no, no, no love shhh, shhh, shshshsh. You are by no means a distraction. I'm glad you called me (y/n). I wish I could be there with you right now holding you in my arms.'
"I want that too Deacy."
'Are you going to get the pawprint?'
"Yeah, it should be ready in a day or two."
'That's good. I love you so much my brave mama cat, you know that right?'
"I love you too. I just—wish you were here John."
'I know. I wish I was there too. Is anyone with you right now?'
"Mikaela is, and I—think I'm gonna call Mary."
'That's good. Surround yourself with those two right now since they know what's happening. Do whatever you feel like you need to do right now okay?'
"I will. I do know I wanna get out of the house. I can't...I just can't be in here."
'Okay then do that. Go to Biba, the record store, see a movie, whatever. Hey, it's gonna be okay, alright?'
"Okay. I just—I miss her so much Deacy."
'I know love, I know. I miss her too. Hey listen, I gotta go, the guys are looking at me wanting to know what's going on.'
"I'll let you go then. I maybe out the whole day but I'll give you a call later tonight, okay?"
'Okay my love. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime.'
"I will, bye Deacy."
'Bye my love.' I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
"You sure you wanna get out of the house? It's cool if you just wanna stay here."
"No Mikaela I just—I really can't be in this house anymore. I need to get away from here for a while."
"Okay, okay. But let's get you calm down first before we head on out, okay? I'll talk to Mary this time and you just sit down and drink some water." I nodded and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle before sitting down at the kitchen table while Mikaela made the call to Mary and explained everything.
A little while later Mikaela told me that Mary is willing to meet us at the movies since we were planning on seeing that new shark movie that was out now. After recomposing myself and drying my eyes up to show no signs that I had been crying, Mikaela and I stepped out and drove on to meet Mary at the movie theater.
The whole day was spent having a girl's day out. Mary paid for our movie tickets (we chose a later showing than originally planned due to all of this), and then Mikaela paid for our lunch. When it got close to our movie time, we all drove back to the theater (thank god it was literally just across the street) and we got our seats.
For the next 2 hours the film JAWS both terrified and had me at the edge of my seat. By the end of the film when Chief Brody shot the shark, the entire audience actually applauded. After the film, we spent the rest of the afternoon doing a little shopping to help cheer me up until it got dark and I knew I had to get back in order to feed Phoebe.
Mikaela and Mary both came back to the house with me to bid me a final goodbye and to give their final condolences on my loss today. They told me that if I ever needed to talk about today or vent, cry or hang out I could always call them. I thanked them before finally entering back inside the house.
When I got inside, the first things I had noticed was that my hall lights were on and Phoebe was currently eating at her food bowl. At that point my heart started racing a bit because my dad was still at work by now since he had requested some overtime so I know that he'd usually would be on his way home but not here, here. I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs and that's when I was shocked to see Deacy coming down the stairs.
"I thought that might've been you. Had it been your dad it would've been awkward."
"Wha—but.....how are you....."
"Before you ask any questions, how are you feeling? Truthfully?" I looked down and sniffled.
"Heartbroken. I miss her Deacy! I miss my baby so much!"
"I know, I know sweetheart. I do too." He said as he immediately embraced me and rocked me back and forth. "Sassy will forever live in your heart and in your memories, you gave her a good life till the end. And she at least passed away in a peaceful, safe environment. She knew you were there and that you took care of her right to the end."
"It all just happened so fast I mean—she was diagnosed with kidney failure just short of 2 weeks and now she—"
"Shhhh, shh I know. I know. But there was nothing you could do love, there was nothing anyone could've done. She—she was an old cat and.....it was just meant to be her time now. You wouldn't want her to keep suffering would you?"
"Never."
"Exactly, no one does. I know it's selfish but she at least died here at home. And she'll be right there with you."
"I just wish she could've stuck around longer, till I at least found a job. It's stressing enough getting no responses cause of my lack of job experiences now I just....."
"I know love. I know. But you know you've got me right? I can be your stress reliever now, hmm? What do you say?" his nose gently grazed against mine. I sniffled and looked up at him to see him softly smile down at me, his eyes softly shining with empathy.
"Thank you Deacy. I'm happy you came back for me."
"I'll always come to you whenever you need me. You're my best friend (y/n)."
"And you're mine John Deacon." For the rest of the night Deacy pampered me with a warm bath filled with my favorite bath bombs and favorite scented candles. When the bath was done, he helped me into my favorite snuggly pj's before placing me on my bed and snuggling up close to me. My head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around me snug and tight.
His hand rubbed my back comfortingly and every now and then I felt him kiss the crown of my forehead every time I sniffled or whimpered. Even though he always said he wasn't a singer, I heard him hum the tune to our song 'you're my best friend' and all the while I kept thinking of my baby girl.
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Times of crisis are both dangerous and immensely important
Osho says.
Times of crisis are both dangerous and immensely important – dangerous for those who have no courage to explore new dimensions of life. They are bound to disintegrate into different kinds of madness, because their mind was made by the society. Now the society is disintegrating, the mind cannot remain; its roots are in the society. It is constantly nourished by the society – now that nourishment is disappearing.
Because the society is disintegrating, a great suspicion, a doubt that was never there before, is bound to arise in the individuals. And if they were just obedient people who have never gone beyond any limit that society has decided, who have always been respected, honorable citizens – in other words, just mediocre – they will immediately go mad.
They will start committing suicide, they will start jumping from high buildings… or even if they live, now they don’t have a mind which can help them to figure out the situation for their life. They will become retarded, stupid, idiotic, may become schizophrenic, split into two persons – or perhaps a crowd.
In times of crisis, the danger is for those who have enjoyed the times when the society was settled, when there was no problem, everything was at ease, they were honored, respected. These were the people who had enjoyed the obedience of the mind, and these are going to be the sufferers. It is a simple arithmetic. They will go psychotic, they will go neurotic – and these words don’t make much difference.
I have heard a definition. One psychoanalyst was asked, “What is the difference between psychosis and neurosis?”
And the psychoanalyst said, “The psychotic person believes that two and two are five. And the neurotic person knows that two and two are four, but is not at ease with the fact that two and two are four.” So the difference is very fine. Both are in trouble.
But times of crisis are of tremendous significance for those daring souls who have never bothered about society’s respectability, its honors; who have never bothered about what others think about them, but have done only that which they felt right to do; who have in a certain way been always rebellious, individualistic. For these people the times of crisis are just golden, because the society is disintegrating. Now it cannot condemn anybody – it is itself condemned, cursed. It cannot say to others that they are wrong. It is itself proving wrong; its whole wisdom is proving just foolish, superstitious.
The daring individual can use this opportunity to go beyond mind, because now the society cannot prevent him, cannot hinder him. Now he is free.
It is almost like a situation in a jail… when the doors are open, the guards have disappeared and the jailer is nowhere to be found. The people who have some sense, some intelligence, will use it for freedom. But those who have become so enslaved that they cannot think of freedom – imprisonment has become their home – they will simply panic, “What is going to happen today? No guards? No jailer? The doors are open! Who will take care of us? Who will provide food for us?”
There will be people whose slavery has penetrated to their very soul; these people will go berserk. But the people who always were in search of a moment when they can escape from the prison will be immensely happy. This was the time they have been waiting and praying for. They will escape out of the prison into the open sky. Going beyond the mind is going into the open sky, full of stars, the moon, the sun – the immensity of it… It becomes yours; the whole existence becomes yours.
The mind is a small cage.
So moments of crisis are both… and that is what is happening all around the world. There has never been so intense a search for spiritual growth, for meditation. But there has never been so much madness either. Both are happening because the status quo is no longer powerful; it has lost control. […]
But it is a beautiful time. The grip of society is lost. Yes, the mediocre will suffer, but anyway they were not enjoying, they were not really living; they were simply being hypocrites. By being insane at least they will be real, authentic. They won’t lose anything – of course they won’t gain much….
But the people who will go beyond mind will create the new man, the new mind. And the most special thing to be remembered about the new mind is that it will never become a tradition, that it will be constantly renewed. If it becomes a tradition it will be the same thing.
The new mind has to become continuously new, every day new, ready to accept any unexpected experience, any unexpected truth… just available, vulnerable. It will be a tremendous excitement, a great ecstasy, a great challenge.
So I don’t think this crisis is bad; it is good. A few people will lose their masks, and will be actually what they are – neurotic, psychotic – but at least they will be true and they will be honest. You may think they are mad; they are not mad, they are simply in a state of very great surprise. They have believed too much in the old mind, and it betrayed them.
But the best of the intelligence will reach to heights unknown before. And if even in a traditional world, a man like Gautam Buddha or Chuang Tzu or Pythagoras is possible, we can conceive that in the atmosphere that the new mind will create, a thousand-fold more awakened people, enlightened people will become easily possible.
If the new mind can prevail then life can become an enlightening process. And enlightenment will not be something rare, that it happens once in a while to somebody very special; it will become a very ordinary human experience, that only once in a while some really idiotic person misses.
Osho, Beyond Psychology, Ch 41, Q 1 (excerpt)
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Hope Because Humanity Is Within Us
“Being human is given.But keeping our humanity is a choice.” – Ida Protuger
This quote simply showsor tells us that humanity is a choice.Meaning wenare human ourselves but living here in this world, humanity is hard to keep for some of us.
When we get asked, what is humanity? Answering this question is just as easy as a pie. Humanity is the good qualities a human could have. Humanity is our ability to have compassion, care, empathy and love others. Humanity is helping other wherever and whenever, it is being selfless. If humanity is a person, the best example is Mother Teresa. But, the real question is, is there any hope for humanity when some of the human beings keeps on ruining humanity in our world? Our deepest humanity, however, is rooted within the fragility of all of our lives. Unless we work together we are going to be unable to save lots of the earth. If we cannot see that our vulnerabilities, and not our masks of perfection are what bind us to one another, we are going to be left wondering what's wrong with us.
There is such a common scene in human history when the media community says that men have lost their trust in humanity. That's because most people these days are starting to be cruel to themselves and others. They hurt themselves and the people around them. A common problem was the many facts that made this "virus" bigger and affected the whole world. When we talk about humanity, we should think of it only about human life, not because humanity is about humanity, including all humanity on earth. It is also a terminology of the qualities that make us human. For example, the ability to love, be considerate, be creative, and not be a robot or an alien.
We have to keep humanity within us. Why? Because that is our only key to prevent chaos in our modern world. Without a little bit of humanity do you think we can live, sleep peacefully and have friends around us? No. I listed some acts that show humanity from the website Good Housekeeping . ( https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/inspirational-stories/news/gmp5124/random-acts-of-kindness/)
1. Florence Rescue Force - After Hurricane Florence caused devastating flooding in North Carolina this fall, kindhearted citizens like Amber Hersel jumped into action. The volunteer from the Civilian Crisis Response Team helped rescue 7-year-old Keiyana Cromartie and her family from their flooded home on September 14, 2018 in James City.
2. Donor Network - The decision made by Patricia Almonte (right) to donate the organs of her late 3-year-old daughter Veronica Garcia helped save three lives: Essence Walls (left), an 8-month-old baby, received her heart; a 2-year-old received her liver; and a 68-year-old woman received her kidneys.
3. Canine Heroes - A lucky dog got a ride from some unnamed helpers in the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew two years ago. Photographer Sean Rayford caught these two men pushing a makeshift boat through the floodwaters in Lumberton, North Carolina.
4. Earthquake Heroes - Frida the rescue dog and her trainer Israel Arauz Salinas went viral for their life-saving efforts during the 7.1 magnitude earthquake that shook Mexico City in 2017. The 9-year-old Labrador has detected the bodies of 52 people during her career, and the duo recently received their own statue for their service to the Mexican navy.
5. Helping Hand - American Abbey D'Agostino and New Zealander Nikki Hamblin won a special Olympic commendation for their sportsmanship at the 2016 Rio Games. After Hamblin tripped in a 5,000-meter heat, and brought D'Agostino down with her, the American helped her competitor to her feet. Later on in the race, D'Agostino fell again as a result of her twisted leg, but Hamblin stayed by her side until the finish line.
6. Moments after posing for a fun photograph at a local beauty spot, brave teenager Cheng Changjiang was dead. Despite being unable to swim, Cheng, 18, waded into the lake to save the lives of three young children who had got into trouble in the water. But the brave act cost the teenager – branded a ‘hero’ by onlookers – his life. Cheng was enjoying the public holiday at the rural spot in Xinyang, at Henan province in central China, when tragedy struck.
7. ryclectic’ wrote: “My Buddy Witnessed an Act of Utter Kindness Today…While he was standing on the corner waiting for the crosswalk he saw this woman buy two meals at a street vender and go sit down beside this man and give him one of the meals. She proceeded to introduce herself and talk to him about his life and just shot the [breeze] with him. She wasn’t acting superior, she was his equal, she just wanted to talk to and express inclusion to a fellow human being.”
8. This is a picture of a chap called Tully holding a 46 year old, wheelchair bound man with severe mental handicaps. Tully picked him up so he could go on the hay ride with everyone else. 5 minutes into the ride the man got so excited that he peed all over himself and Tully. Tully sat there soaked in pee for the remainder of the 40 minute hay ride. As soon as it was over he changed the mans clothes before his own. If that doesn’t show character we don’t know what does.
9. I will not let you go. This woman spent 3 hours holding the horse’s head above the tide after it got stuck in the mud on a beach in Australia. The horse was later rescued, unharmed.
10. Strangers Leave her Money While She Gently Sleeps. “alexthegreat90″ wrote: “I took this picture this morning. Ever been somewhere and seen something that amazed you? I’m at the east side McDonald’s and this lady was sitting in front of me sleeping. She has everything she owns in a small backpack. Curled up with her blanket she sleeps not knowing what is going on around her. While she is sleeping everyone is getting their money out and putting it on the table so it’s there when she wakes up.”
These are only few of the acts that restored humanity. These acts showed us that no matter how cruel the world is. There are still people out there who shows kindness and selfless love without any hesitation despite any situation. So what are those things that could destroy our humanity? Stephen Hawking who is known for his work on black holes and gravitational singularities thinks that there are three things that ruin our humanity, but I will only cite two. He have this outspoken ideas about human civilization. Hawking suffers from a nerve cell disease just like amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS, which left him paralyzed and unable to talk without a voice synthesizer. But that hasn't stopped the University of Cambridge professor from making proclamations about the wide selection of dangers humanity faces -- including ourselves. He is part of a small group who voiced out their concerns about artificial intelligence.
First, according to Stephen Hawking, “The development of full artificial intelligence could spell the end of the human race," "The human failing I would most like to correct is aggression. It may have had survival advantage in caveman days, to get more food, territory or partner with whom to reproduce, but now it threatens to destroy us all," The Independent reported. I believe that Hawking here is telling us that AI could destroy us just like in the movie entitled Wall-e, we could see there that the AI are already controlling every move of the humans in the ship. They are dependent to the robot around them and don’t seem to care to anyone. There would be no care, love and empathy left.
Second, if AI won’t kill us, our own self might kill us. For example, a major nuclear war would likely end civilization, and could wipe out the human race, Hawking added. When asked which human quality he would most like to chose, he chose empathy , because "it brings us together in a peaceful, loving state.” Chaos would be everywhere without humanity.
In the current time, we ask ourselves sometimes, where is humanity? There are certain issues in our modern world that made us question ourselves. Despite those, we should look at the brighter side. There are still good people who we have mentioned above.
This year, our humanity is being tested. During this pandemic time we should remember our humanity. On the occasion of taking care of the elderly, and those who are sick and needy. This is what's happening in countless hospitals, clinics and medical aid units round the world, where truth heroes of this ordeal – the doctors, nurses and physicians – are risking their lives to avoid wasting others. This deeper humanity must spread to each street, every neighbourhood, every city and each country if we are to defeat the virus with our science and technology but also showing wisdom, compassion and humanity.
In the event that food and fun are what we were destined to be, there is one thing we should remember. Indeed, even creatures can do such exercises. In the event that God made us human, there must be an explanation behind it. No one but people can comprehend the importance of mankind, and it is humankind because of insight that truly gives the center substance to human presence. You needn't bother with a solid financial balance to add to helpful exercises. Paying your family help reasonably is humankind as well. You're prepared to pay a large number of dollars for your clinical test, yet with regards to paying your collaborator; You need to spare each penny. Compassionate exercises ought to never be embraced to pick up distinction or get a superficial point of interest. You can without much of a stretch accomplish popularity through the work you do. Lifting the weighty sack of an elderly person is humankind, helping an incapacitated individual to go across the road is mankind, helping your mom at work is humankind; truth be told, it is humankind to help whoever needs it. How would we express or show mankind? One approach to show our mankind helping poor people and the individuals who crippled. Additionally utilizing indicating counterfeit mankind to pick up distinction ought to never be one your choice. Did you experience finding a major measure of cash and when you return it, there's the incredible inclination that we can't clarify? Since on the event of indicating our humankind to other people, we have that believing that we can not get.
Humanity is significant in our daily lives. It teaches us to understand the problem and gives us ideas. It helps us understand others. Humanities students specialize in writing and critical reading. Humanity encourages us to think creatively. They teach us to explain why we are human and to ask questions about our world. Humanity produces informed and critical citizens. Democracy cannot flourish without humanity. We all need to assist one another. We humans are like that. We need to live by each other’s bliss – not by each other’s hopelessness. We don’t need to despise and loathe one another. Because that's not what humanity is.
Some may say, we are losing our humanity. No, we are not losing it. We could see it everywhere. It is within us. Humanity is lively and the light is sparkling profoundly within the hearts and souls of numerous individuals from all works of life. They are of all races, societies, social status and religions. It is individuals who see their commitments to the world as their employments and they continuously inquire what can l do to contribute to distant better;a much better; a higher;a stronger; an improved" a stronger world. It’s just that, humanity is covered by our selfishness, our hatred, all negative traits that prevents us from helping and doing good for someone. Never lose hope for we still have humanity stored in us.
https://www.humanitystyle.com/new-page-5
https://kindnessblog.com/2014/11/03/34-examples-of-heart-warming-humanity/
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Mikhail Gorbachev: 'In 1989 the World Chose Peace; We Need That Vision Today'
The Berlin Wall, which for decades had divided not just a city but a country, and all of Europe, fell in November 1989, and history accelerated its march. Such moments test the responsibility and wisdom of statesmen.
The long overdue changes in the countries of Central and Eastern Europe had received a powerful impetus from the democratic process already under way in the Soviet Union. The demands of the people were getting increasingly urgent and radical.
In the fall of 1989 the situation in East Germany–the G.D.R.–became explosive. Large groups of people were leaving the country; people were fleeing en masse through Hungary and Czechoslovakia, which had opened their western borders. In major cities, people took to the streets, protesting peacefully, but violence with consequences beyond anyone’s control could not be ruled out.
In October 1989, I attended the festivities in East Berlin marking the 40th anniversary of the G.D.R. As I stood on the rostrum, greeting the columns of participants in the parade, I felt almost physically the people’s discontent. We knew that they had been carefully pre-selected, which made their behavior even more striking. They were chanting: Perestroika! Gorbachev, help!
Subsequent events confirmed that the G.D.R. regime was rapidly losing ground. The protests and the political demands–from freedom of emigration to freedom of speech and the dissolution of government bodies to the reunification of Germany–were gaining momentum.
The fall of the Berlin Wall was therefore not a surprise for us. The fact that it happened on Nov. 9, 1989, was the result of specific circumstances and the evolution of popular mood.
In those conditions, the Soviet leadership’s first step was to rule out military force by the Soviet troops stationed in the G.D.R. At the same time, we did our utmost to make sure that the process moved along peaceful lines, without infringing on the vital interests of our country or undermining peace in Europe.
That was extremely important, because after the fall of the Wall the developments in the G.D.R. became increasingly turbulent. Reunification of Germany was now on the agenda, and this was bound to cause concern among Soviet citizens, many of whom were alarmed.
Their concern was understandable, both historically and psychologically. We had to reckon with the people’s memory of the war, of its horrors and victims. Of course the Germans had changed; they had learned the lessons of Hitler’s reign and World War II. But there are things that cannot be erased from history. I told Chancellor Kohl, it is important for the Germans, in managing unification, to respect the feelings of other peoples as well as their own interests.
We were not alone in our concerns. The Federal Republic of Germany’s (F.R.G.) NATO allies–France, Great Britain, Italy–did not want a quick reunification. I understood that from my talks with their leaders. In each of the countries that had suffered from aggression, there were fears–as though in their very genes–that the unification of F.R.G. and G.D.R. would increase Germany’s power. They had serious, though unspoken, historic and political reasons for such fears.
I think that NATO’s European members would not have been averse to using Gorbachev to put a brake on unification. But I understood that resisting a process that was objectively inevitable and, even more so, to use force in any form could lead to unpredictable consequences: an explosion in the center of Europe, a resumption of the Cold War, and who knows what else! It was the duty of all of us to avoid that.
Today, reading some comments and reminiscences of that time, one might get the impression that the process of reunification was a cakewalk, that everything came like manna from heaven, or that it all happened as a result of happy chance or even naiveté of some parties. But that was not the case.
The two plus four negotiations involving the two German states, the Soviet Union, the U.S., France and Britain could not be an easy ride. There were contentious discussions and clashes of opinion, and it sometimes seemed that misunderstanding would doom the negotiations.
But they ended in success, because the parties to this complex diplomatic process showed foresight as well courage and a sense of high responsibility.
Yet, when I am asked who I regard as the main hero of that time of drama and turmoil, I always reply: the people. I am not denying the role of the politicians. They were very important. But it was the people–two peoples–who mattered the most. The Germans, who declared their will for national unity decisively and, most importantly, in a peaceful way. And of course the Russians, who understood the Germans’ aspirations, who believed that Germany had indeed changed and supported the will of the German people.
Russians and Germans can be proud that after the war’s tragic bloodshed they understood each other. Had they not, the Soviet government would not have been able to act the way it did.
We drew a final line under the Cold War. Our goal was a new Europe: a Europe without dividing lines. The leaders who succeeded us have failed to achieve that goal. A modern security architecture, a strong mechanism for preventing and resolving conflicts have not been created in Europe. Hence the painful problems and conflicts that beset our continent today. I urge world leaders to face up to those problems and resume dialogue for the sake of the future.
Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com
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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:
Odin, the God of War, Death and Wisdom,
whose origins stem from Ancient Scandinavia.
He is now a professor at Phoenix University.
FC NAME/GROUP: Sung Hoon (Bang In Kyu) / Actor
GOD NAME: Odin
PANTHEON: Norse
OCCUPATION: Freelance writer, Professor of Nordic Studies at Phoenix University
HEIGHT: 1,85m
DEFINING FEATURES: great hair, prominent eyebrows, baby-eye fat (natural under-eye bags), strong jawlines
PERSONALITY:
+ wise, benevolent, altruistic, composed, intelligent, brave, inspiring, poetic, dedicated and passionate towards wisdom, supportive especially towards outcasts
- inscrutable, insensitive, irrational, taciturn, cunning, devious (towards enemies), intolerant (towards sore losers, the ignorant, and the arrogant)
HISTORY:
Before Ragnarok
Odin was the son of Borr, son of Buri the first Norse God, and the giantess Bestla. He, together with his two brothers – Vili and Ve – constructed the world by using the corpse of Ymir the frost ogre, also created the first humans – Ask and Embla.
Odin was worshipped as the Allfather of Germanic (Norse) Gods and man, the chieftain of the Æsir tribe of deities, and the Ruler of Asgard (The homeworld of Æsir). His throne Hlidskjalf is located in the hall Valaskjalf (“shelf of the slain”), from where he observed all happenings in the Nine Nordic worlds.
Despite his revered role among Norse deities, Odin wasn’t really interested in being in charge. Treasuring knowledge more than anything, Odin was usually found wandering throughout the cosmos, being absorbed in his own endless quests for wisdom. His passion for knowledge knew no bound.
For the sake of acquiring cosmic wisdom, Odin had gouged out his left eye and dedicated it to the Well of Urb as a return for a drink of its water. The God also once hung himself on Yggdrasil, the great tree rooting from the Well of Urb, for nine whole nights as a sacrifice for the understanding of the runes carved on the tree trunk. Not only passionate in pursuing wisdom for himself, Odin was also dedicated to impart the knowledge for other deities and mankind.
After Ragnarok
Odin, despite his mighty abilities, couldn’t escape his fate of being slain by Fenrir the Wolf. Fortunately, after the fateful battle, the Valkyries successfully brought half of Odin’s soul back to Valhalla (The afterlife hall of the slain). In there the God’s soul took his thousands years of deep slumber, under the protection of the Valkyries, patiently waiting for his day of resurrection.
After millennia of Earth, The Viking Allfather finally came back to life. Nothing was lost from Odin’s wisdom, only his appearance went through a significant change. No longer an one-eyed old man with white long beard, but a young healthy man with Asian features.
The worlds he knew had no longer existed, and Odin took it as a new challenge in his never-ending quest for wisdom.
The year is 2020, and as Odin continues roaming the world, fate has led him to Mount Phoenix city. Whether this is a good sign or not, only time can tell.
POWERS:
Enhanced Wisdom: deep understanding and realization of concepts, people, things, events or situations, resulting in the ability to apply perceptions, judgements, and actions while keeping these understandings.
Enhanced Combat: possess enhanced level of close combat skills, also excels in various forms of combat
Combat Manipulation: able to manipulate combat, including mental, physical, spiritual and conceptual ones, including the force behind attacks, defenses, tactics, etc., can decide who will win the fight and how, can manipulate the effectiveness of each defensive and offensive move.
Necromancy: able to communicate with and resurrect the dead, also manipulate the dead, death, and death-force to follow his orders
Shamanism: able to contact his own spirit and send it outside to roam the world or enter other levels of existence. Can direct his spirit to use his abilities and powers on his behalf, but the general effect would be limited.
STRENGTHS
Has nerves of steel, capable of defending himself and others physically and/or verbally, won’t ever hesitate to fight for whoever or whatever deserves his attention
Able to keep his composure in chaotic situations, has good anger management skills
Is creative and poetic, also a good conversationalist, able to inspire, encourage, and persuade others using his words
Is a competent teacher, mentor, guide, and protector
WEAKNESSES
Gets bored easily, needs to feel inspired, or else would become very lethargic and indifferent
Is easily become impatient and cruel towards with those who are lazy, stubborn, or the all-talk-and-no-walk
Is usually absent-minded and detached from everyday life
Has problems understanding and dealing with the issues of the heart
Has huge commitment issues
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The Elections in Israel: The View from Old Athens
Although my Greek never really got good enough to read the great tragedians in the original without a dictionary by my side, I nevertheless grew through my studies to love their work and to understand why Euripides, Aeschylus, and Sophocles, all of whom lived and worked in the fifth century BCE, eventually became pillars of Western culture. Even today I retain a real fondness for their work and an appreciation of its value and its artistry. But the part I always liked the best was their common use of an on-stage chorus—known to history because of them as a “Greek” chorus—to act sometimes as a kind of intermediary between the playwright and the audience, but other times as a kind of fictive corporate personality in its own right that interacts not with the audience but with the various characters in the play. In either case, however, the idea is almost always the same—to remind viewers that things are never as they seem, that behind even the most banal off-hand remark can hide a universe of emotion and meaning, and that we are, all of us, bit players in a huge drama that none of us has read and that no one therefore fully understands. It is that specific concept of an all-knowing Greek chorus that I would like to bring to bear in my attempt to analyze the results of last Tuesday’s elections in Israel.
As has so often been the case in these last years, the results at best equivocal—somehow both clear and unclear with respect to their potential impact on the future. As I write these words on Wednesday afternoon, it feels as though Benny Gantz’s Blue and White party will probably end up with a slight edge—something like 32 or 33 seats to Prime Minister Netanyahu’s Likud party’s possible 31 or 32. With 95% of the votes tallied, it feels likely that those numbers will hold, but even if the numbers were reversed the outcome will be exactly the same because no one party will have won enough seats—sixty-one— in the Knesset to govern all by itself without the need to form any sort of coalition. (Indeed, no party in the history of the state has ever won a majority of seats, the closest being the 56 seats that the Alignment coalition won in 1969.) And with that thought in place, let’s bring the chorus out onto the stage.
In classic Greek plays, the chorus is often depicted as a chorus of elderly persons possessed specifically of the kind of wisdom that, if it comes at all, comes to most in old age and it is precisely that kind of chorus of wise oldsters that in my mind’s eye I see stepping onto the stage. In my mind’s eye, I see them dressed in shapeless robes, their demeanor suggestive not of creeping senescence but of burgeoning insight as they turn first to face the audience and then, one by one, to the players in the drama unfolding on stage to offer them the benefit of their perceptive acumen, of their deep awareness of how things really are. The strange masks they are wearing are part of this as well: by denying them specific in-play identities, the members of the chorus appear instead as symbols of wisdom itself. And, indeed, the characters in the play are generally depicted either as being entirely deaf to the insight being offered them by the chorus or, in some ways even more tragically, as being vaguely aware that it is being offered but, at the same time, being far too distracted or otherwise occupied by their own egos to take the information being offered to them to heart.
The whole parliamentary system of government is theoretically designed to make elections more about ideas and policies than specific individuals. And that is how things are, at least theoretically, in Israel: voters don’t actually vote for anyone at all, just for the party they wish to see form the next government. Of course, the personalities involved are well known to all: as part of its campaign, each party publishes a list of the specific individuals who will serve in the Knesset if the party gets enough votes to seat people that far down the list. So everybody knows who will be Prime Minister if any specific party gets enough votes to form the next government because that individual appears as number 1 on that party’s list. The only problem is that the system doesn’t work quite as well as intended and, even though Israelis technically aren’t voting for any individuals at all, it somehow feels entirely as though people are voting for the person who will serve as Prime Minister if his party gets to form the government.
And now the curtain goes up to reveal our opening tableau. At the back of the stage on a kind of platform is the chorus, their wise presence as reassuring as their masks are unsettling. Upstage in the center is Reuven Rivlin, the President of Israel, wearing a dark suit and looking as though he knows his lines well enough but can’t quite remember to whom he is supposed to deliver them. To his right is a nattily-dressed but still clearly dejected Bibi Netanyahu. To the left, looking slightly surprised to be on stage at all and not at all ready to be off-book, is a rumpled-looking Benny Gantz, leader of the Blue and White Party. And hovering overhead, held in place by a hoist similar to the one that holds the Angel aloft in Angels in America, is Avigdor Lieberman, outfitted with a set of outsized white wings like Emma Thompson’s in the mini-series.
The audience quiets down and waits for the play to begin. All eyes, naturally, are on Rivlin, whose job it is to invite someone to attempt to hobble together a coalition large enough to govern effectively…or at all. Clearly, the opening soliloquy, ideally in the form of an invitation to get to work forming a government, is his to deliver. But as he produces some sort of computer print-out from his inside jacket pocket and begins to scan the numbers yet again, the chorus quickly intercedes and sternly instructs him to remember that he is above the system and not bound to the tyranny of its numbers, that he can—that he must—guide the nation forward by selecting the individual whom he deems the most likely to be able to govern wisely and well, not slavishly to turn to the guy whose party got the most votes. That makes his job both simpler and infinitely harder: simpler, because he can act as he wishes; but far more daunting because his decision will almost undoubtedly affect the nation’s future in a profound, perhaps even irreversible way…and he is far too savvy to pretend that he doesn’t understand that fully. As the chorus sings out their warning, his face grows pale, almost ashen. He seems weighed down with responsibility. He himself belongs to Netanyahu’s party. But he knows that his job is not to support Bibi, but to keep the Angel overhead aloft and the ensemble below from being crushed if he descends too quickly or too roughly.
And now Bibi steps forward and delivers his own opening soliloquy. Yes, he admits, his party got fewer votes than Benny Gantz’s. But why should that matter? Is Mrs. Clinton President of the United States? What should matter, he declaims in his weirdly American English, is that he can form a coalition, that he can govern, that he can and will lead the nation forward. He clearly has more to say, but again the Chorus intercedes. Looking not at Bibi but at Benny, they sing out a warning. “Remind him that he won’t be able to lead the nation that effectively from a prison cell…and that even you have lost track of the numerous indictments pending against him.” Then they look to Lieberman, still hanging there in mid-air and looking as smug as ever. “And you there,” they continue, looking up at the kingmaker, “remind him, again, that the way to bring you into the government is to form a grand coalition with Benny and yourself…and specifically to leave the Haredim, the ultra-Orthodox, out of the mix. Tell him, again, that it’s you or the black-hats…but not both. Not until they agree to serve in the IDF like every other Israeli citizen. He knows all that, to be sure. (You have told him that a few dozen times in the last few days alone.) But can you be sure Bibi always knows where his own best interests lie? Why not tell him again anyway? What can it hurt?”
And then, clearly on a roll, the Chorus of the Elderly, turns to Benny Gantz. He is a tall man, and wearing his newly pressed IDF uniform—he was, after all, the Chief of the General Staff, the Ramatkal, from 2011 to 2015—he looks even taller. He somehow seems sure and unsure of himself at the same time, confident and ill at ease. He wanted this, obviously. He personally founded the Hosen L’yisrael (“Israel Resilience”) party just last year and guided it into the coalition first with Telem, the party of Moshe Yaalon (also a former Chief of Staff of the IDF) and then with Yesh Atid (“There Is a Future”), Yair Lapid’s centrist party. The resulting Blue and White party is therefore his baby, something he himself created, something in the remarkable victory of which he can take personal pride. And yet he looks uncertain. He looks at Bibi and feels untried and inexperienced in the ways of government. He looks up at Lieberman, still menacingly hovering overhead, and wonders what price he will have to pay to bring Yisrael Beiteinu (“Israel Our Home”), Lieberman’s party, into a coalition. And then he looks at Rivlin and wonders what it’s going to take to get him to stop staring at Bibi with that unsettling mixture of awe and frustration.
I would tell you more, but the play is still in rehearsal and only opens in a few weeks when President Rivlin formally asks someone to form a coalition that could conceivably govern effectively. As also on Broadway, things in Israel can (and probably will) change dramatically before opening night. But the Chorus is already in place, already positioning itself to remind the players that what they see is not all there is, that acquiring power and exercising it wisely are not at all the same thing, and that the fate of the nation—and, by extension, the course of Jewish history—depends not slightly or tangentially, but fully and really on what the show actually looks like when the curtain goes up and the show actually opens.
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Invel sighed exasperatedly as he trudged through the city of Hargeon, subzero winds and temperatures trailing in his wake. A flurry of snow and ice coated the people and buildings, practically turning them into ice sculptures. He had not expected to reach his destination so soon, but apparently Irene had disregarded His Majesty’s orders and employed her experimental Magic to tip the scales in their favor… Not that it mattered to her, since she had to have realized by now Emperor Spriggan had perished.
“I-Invel…?”
The ice mage raised an eyebrow as he halted and stared at the once proud Spriggan Shield crawling on the ground, arms still tied behind her back and cuffed with Anti-Magic restraints.
“Dimaria. Seems this operation was too much for you to handle.” Hands clasped behind his back, and looking every bit like a teacher scolding a student, Invel shook his head in disappointment. Dimaria hissed furiously at him.
“Don’t look down your nose at me, bastard…! What have you contributed?!”
Invel sighed theatrically.
“More than you. I’ve immobilized the enemy forces that have shuffled here as a result of Irene’s mischief.” He cut the ropes that bound Dimaria’s arms. The blonde looked up at him with an awed expression, not moving from her spot.
“Universe One…? Lady Irene really used it?!”
Invel’s gaze turned skyward.
“Indeed. You should have realized it yourself, after the intense Magic built up in the atmosphere. It was most certainly Irene’s Magic…”
Dimaria winced as she rose to her feet, glaring at Invel half-heartedly as she did so.
“You’re not going to get into a big shpeal about how she went out of line…?”
The ice mage scoffed at the notion.
“Drastic times call for drastic measures. Though our victory is a foregone conclusion, we have suffered… setbacks.” He muttered distastefully, turning to the side, away from Dimaria.
“You don’t say…” Dimaria rolled her eyes.
“Four Spriggan Shields have perished. Four.” Invel waspishly shot back, surprising Dimaria. “What’s more, we have lost our Emperor to this scum. We have no other recourse but to reunite the twelve and capture Fairy Heart. After that, we’ll exterminate Ishgar and Acnologia together, just as His Majesty commanded us to do.”
Dimaria went rigid as Invel revealed the worst news. It just wasn’t possible.
“The Emperor died?! Don’t fuck with me…! He’s immortal…!”
Invel coldly glared back at her.
“You can reject reality like an obnoxious child if that’s what you’d prefer, but the rest of us will be living in the real world. I saw it myself. His Majesty’s most vile creation came to end his life – wiped out nearly 100,000 of the men in the Western flank – and mortally wounded the Emperor with a Hellfire that I have never seen before. It was the most shameful sin of my life to follow His Majesty’s will and allow END to endanger him. But I will carry the burden of that blight on my soul… so long as I am able to fulfill His Majesty’s will for this wretched world. Ishgar and Acnologia will fall, that I have promised.”
Dimaria’s body trembled as her hands curled into fists. So the Emperor was truly dead… It would feel amazing to slaughter these Ishgar mages for that insult alone… But it did trouble her that Acnologia was still, in fact, a threat. Who was supposed to wield the Fairy Heart, now that His Majesty was no longer an option?
“Seems like events have been unfolding into a most fascinating tale…” A figure dropped down in a crouch from a nearby roof, but neither Dimaria nor Invel tensed at feeling his familiar presence.
“Neinhart.” Invel tersely acknowledged the man. “You look in better shape than Dimaria.”
Dimaria’s hackles rose at the insult to her honor, but she stayed her tongue. The fact it was a teenage girl that put her in such an embarrassing state was humiliating enough.
“Oh, the bastard landed a solid hit on me, I’ll give him that…” Neinhart bitterly admitted. “Still, they should have killed me when they had the chance, rather than show mercy… A coward’s attempt at ‘honor in combat.’”
“The Emperor did suggest this was a weakness of theirs… We will have to educate them just how fatal their naiveté is. Neinhart, when we reach Magnolia, you will summon the deceased Spriggan members. The full might of the Spriggan 12 will be put on full display!”
With this declaration, the three of them began their trek, which would most assuredly be short, given Irene’s meddling with the geography.
“You think she will have arranged the troops for us?” Dimaria questioned. Invel nodded sternly.
“Irene is a shrewd tactician. The best strategy for us would be to arrange all of our forces throughout and around Magnolia, while we harvest the Fairy Heart.”
“Thousands upon thousands of soldiers… All gathered in one place.” Neinhart grinned. “They were having a tough time as it was holding us back. No way they’ll be able to break through to save their precious weapon!”
Invel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“This will be the final decisive battle… After we’re done with Ishgar, we’ll slay Acnologia, as planned.”
~*~
- Not even an hour ago… -
Cobra sighed with his arms and legs crossed as he sat on top of Happy’s enlarged head. The three of them were flying on this furball to the East to confront the toughest guy in Alvarez, and he had elected to come along because he caught wind of Mest’s less-than-honorable plans. He didn’t like knocking out a member of Fairy Tail, but Mest’s idiocy would’ve resulted in death, for sure… At least, if Brandish’s boasts of August were true.
“Oi, would you stop flippin’ out, blondie? Yeesh. You’re probably the last person I would’ve picked to represent Fairy Tail…” He rolled his eye as the Celestial Wizard squawked at him indignantly.
“STOP READING MY MIND, JERK!”
Brandish lazily eyed Lucy even as she nuzzled contentedly in Happy’s fur.
“He’s got a point. If you act nervous around August, he’s not going to take my request very seriously. And it’s going to be hard enough explaining His Majesty’s demise without your jitters make you seem suspicious…”
Lucy visibly deflated at Brandish’s words of wisdom.
“I know…” She sighed, head hanging low. “I just wish Erza, Gray, or even Mira could have come along instead of me… They’d be totally more level-headed about this, and would definitely know what to say to this guy.”
Brandish squished her cheek against the pleasurably soft fur.
“Just be yourself. Show him respect, but don’t try to sugarcoat it. If we want a chance of convincing him, he needs to get a good read on you as a person. He’s easier to negotiate with compared to Irene, but that doesn’t mean he lacks pride as a warrior for the Alvarez kingdom. Be ready to answer some tough questions.”
Lucy shrank in on herself even more.
“Just great…” She cried exaggeratedly.
Cobra frowned slightly as he eyed the green-haired buxom woman shrewdly. Before he could voice his next questions, however, a giant wave of magical presence overwhelmed their senses, and they knew just what that indicated. Staring down below, they locked eyes with the elder mage, who did not miss a giant flying cat in the sky. Lucy was frozen in absolute terror, unable to speak.
“August, the King of Magic…” Brandish murmured, conveying many emotions while maintaining eye contact with her comrade.
Cobra bit back a small grimace, marginally more composed than Lucy.
‘Definitely bad news… If we can’t make an ally out of this guy, we are screwed.’ The maroon-haired Dragon Slayer thought to himself grimly.
Soon enough, Happy touched down, and Brandish shrank him so they could disembark. The Dragon Slayer and the Celestial Wizard stood to the right and left behind Brandish, respectively. Lucy felt jittery as she poked her fingers together, while Cobra elected to stuff his hands in his pockets. For the Dragon Slayer, they were already in the lion’s den when they sensed this man’s presence; if they were going to die, there was nothing they could do about it.
As for Brandish, she kept a completely neutral expression on her face as she faced her comrade without hesitation.
“What are you playing at, Brandish?” August finally asked, ending the tense silence that pervaded the air.
“I have come to negotiate with you, August.” Brandish answered freely. The elder mage arched an eyebrow at her candor.
“Has Jacob been killed?”
Cobra pondered whether to answer that one, but Brandish cut him off before he could open his mouth.
“He was defeated at the hands of this man here.” She lightly nudged her head back at Cobra. “He isn’t dead, but he’s been taken prisoner. What of God Serena? He should have been with you.”
August clasped a hand over his heart solemnly.
“He’s here with me.” He answered simply. His gaze intensified, making Lucy shiver. Cobra would have joined her, but he was using every ounce of self-control to not let August’s presence overwhelm him. August continued, “Now then, do you mind clarifying what you meant by ‘negotiate’?”
Brandish took a deep breath before getting into the meat of it.
“I would like you to halt your advance.” Brandish made her plea. August, too, breathed heavily through his nose as he tried deciphering Brandish’s motivations.
“From what I can gather, it doesn’t appear you’ve been tortured… Am I to interpret this as betrayal?”
Brandish shook her head solemnly.
“That couldn’t be further from the truth. I am and always will be a loyal citizen of Alvarez, through and through. It’s just… I cannot find any meaning in this war.” She voiced her doubts as clearly as possible.
August’s face became grave as he glared at Brandish.
“Those very words are in direct betrayal of His Majesty’s will. Need I remind you we Spriggan 12 have dedicated our minds, bodies, and souls to His Majesty? If, in spite of that, you still cannot comprehend why you must fight for his cause… Then you are nothing more than an enemy who must be eliminated.”
Lucy grew ghastly pale with how oppressive the atmosphere had become. Even Brandish had lost color in her cheeks, but she stood her ground. Cobra clenched a fist in his pocket, gritted his teeth to steel himself, and looked August in the eye.
“… About that.” He breathed steadily to take control of his nerves as all eyes were on him now. “Your ‘Emperor’ was killed not too long ago… Apparently by his brother, a Dragon Slayer in this country by the name of Natsu Dragneel.”
August’s eyes widened at this bit of news. Brandish knew that was quite the feat to accomplish; and she too braced herself for August’s potential rage at this bit of news. She hadn’t known how to approach that topic… and perhaps that was why Cobra had taken one for the team in relaying that information.
“His Majesty… is no more?” August’s voice was eerily quiet, his expression now indecipherable.
“A-Aye…” Happy spoke up for the first time since arriving. “I heard Zeref say that if Natsu killed him, Natsu would die, too… And Natsu definitely died!! I tried to stop him, but Natsu killed Zeref anyway!”
Tears streamed down Happy’s face as he sniffed, looking up at August. It didn’t matter to him if August killed him out of spite… He’d already lost Natsu, and that was painful enough.
August’s face hardened, which was exactly what they had all dreaded.
“If His Majesty has passed on, then there is even less reason to spare these people, Brandish. You know this.”
Finally locating some more resolve within her, Brandish shook her head swiftly as she stared right back at August unflinchingly.
“On the contrary. You know as well as I… that His Majesty had a secret desire kept hidden from most of his subjects… The very reason he went away for all those years was because he was struggling with himself, whether he should live or die!” Her voice was raw with emotion. It was difficult for her, too. Zeref had taken her in and shown her how to use Magic after her mother passed away… But even she could not deny that he harbored a suicidal nature. Because he had been forced to endure centuries of immortality…
“…” August didn’t say a word as Brandish became more sure of herself. Again, it was impossible to see or feel what he might be thinking… Not even Cobra could hear his thoughts.
“Please, August… list to me. What His Majesty attempted to achieve is absolute genocide, and nothing less. The Dragon King Festival… Ragnarok… Call it whatever you like, but in the end, it amounts to nothing but a one-sided massacre! This war is nothing but murder. It’s not a clash of noble ideals between our two countries… Surely you can tell that much?”
August stared down at the ground, deep in rumination. Lucy and Happy looked on hopefully, while Cobra was a little more guarded in his expectations. Brandish pressed on with her pleas.
“I know that among the twelve, none are wiser than you. That is why you must realize at the end of the fight, there will be no future! All that awaits us… is an empty abyss…”
August looked back up at Brandish with another unreadable expression.
“Where we are headed at the conclusion of this battle was to be decided by His Majesty. With him now deceased, it falls to us to finish what he started – whether you like it or not, he decided to…” His mouth became a thin, grim line as Brandish cut him off shrilly.
“Think for yourself!!!”
“M…Maybe you shouldn’t have laid it on so thick… Just a thought…” Lucy winced, hiding behind Brandish. But the Spriggan Shield ignored her.
“That is what I have decided to do…” She turned to the side so there was nothing between Lucy and August as the elder mage stared her down. “I have reached the conclusion that these people are not evil… far from it.”
“Th-Thanks…!” Lucy sweatdropped as she tried not to wilt under August’s intense gaze.
August turned his attention to Cobra first, however.
“You were the one that defeated Jacob… Tell me. Did you take him alive to use as a hostage? Or were you perhaps too weak of heart to end his life?”
Cobra kept his expression firm and made sure to look August directly in the eye. He knew that this was a crucial query.
“Listen, I’m no seraphic saint. Blondie here can tell you that I used to be a scumbag of a criminal… And maybe I still am. Who can honestly say whether I’ve atoned for all the shit I committed as a member of Oracion Seis? I’m the Poison Dragon Slayer, for fuck’s sake. That should tell you how many lives I’ve taken.” He shook his head somewhat exasperatedly as Lucy wordlessly begged him to shut his trap. Even Brandish was looking at him in shock because of his frankness. “But… As for that Jacob guy… Kami knows I didn’t take him down just to hold him over your head. You wanna take him back? I won’t stop you. That said, the rest of those Fairies? They’ll probably try, but only if you aggress them. They could probably understand how you feel about camaraderie – that whole Guild is about friendship, harmony, and all that crap. But it’s because they’re so honorable that they hold that Jacob guy prisoner. ‘Cause he basically held the Guild hostage to get what you guys wanted.”
“…” August fell silent again as he pondered Cobra’s words. Brandish took this opportunity to press her advantage in the negotiations.
“You see? Even a former criminal was able to come this far, thanks to Fairy Tail. If you would just talk with these mages of Ishgar, I am certain you would see they mean us no ill will. They fight because we struck first. They invaded our land because we had their Guildmaster as our effective prisoner. August, I beg you… at least try talking with them.”
August took one final deep breath, once he had mulled over Brandish’s plea for negotiation.
“Well… I suppose… I would sooner listen to what they have to say than make a fool out of you, Brandish.” August nodded his head slowly, stiffly. “As leader of the twelve, it falls to me to decide how we proceed from here.”
Lucy heaved a sigh of relief as Happy cheered, and even Cobra’s mouth twitched up a little the tiniest bit. But even so, from what August could discern from them, it was all genuine; they knew by his reputation that fighting him would be suicide, so he was used to such reactions. It was Brandish’s reaction that perplexed him the most.
“You’re the best, Grandpa~!” Brandish cutely mewled as she looked up at him gleefully. August frowned at the title.
“I have no recollection of you ever being my granddaughter…” He remarked dryly.
“But to me, you’ve always been my Grandpa~!” Brandish chirped adorably. Lucy sweatdropped as she hoped and prayed to all deities out there that Brandish’s eccentricity wouldn’t ruin their chances of negotiation… Cobra just sighed as he raked fingers through his hair.
“As touching as this is… Makarov is gonna want in on these negotiations. Is it acceptable to move this meeting to Fairy Tail…?”
Lucy stared gobsmacked at Cobra speaking for all three of them. But she dared not speak contradictory to him, after he’d made that offer. August raised his eyebrow at the Dragon Slayer.
“You would invite me, even though that was my destination to begin with…?”
Cobra shrugged nonchalantly.
“Call it a token of goodwill and trust. I’m not exactly fit to speak for a Guild I’m not even a part of… And blondie there is just a plain ol’ member, not even S-Class. I don’t think it’s proper for us to make promises that Makarov might decide we aren’t able to keep…”
August nodded indulgently.
“I see your point… Lead the way, then.”
They hadn’t even made it a few feet before something was obviously wrong. Something strange was in the air… Like some Magic was taking hold of all the land in Fiore.
“Wh-What is this…?!” Lucy yelped, looking around in bewilderment.
Brandish and August appeared they were in the know, and it was August who was the most severe…
“Irene, you wouldn’t dare cast that Magic…!”
“Universe One…” Brandish murmured.
Before Cobra could even ask what ‘Universe One’ was, there was a bright light that blinded them and eclipsed everything around them, even the landscape. And then they knew no more…
~*~
- Present –
Laxus massaged his head as he sat up. The last thing he remembered was taking down Wahl, and then he needed to lay down for a while, since he was recently cured of those Barrier Particles in that same battle. Looking around the forest he was suddenly now in, he sighed tiredly and wondered just how the hell he ended up here. He stood up and donned his coat, which wasn’t far out of reach.
“It seems you’ve made a full recovery…”
Laxus craned his head around at the source of the voice. The figure approached casually, and the Dragon Slayer knew there was no need to fight once he registered the hair and face.
“Ahh, Mystogan. Or… Jellal, I suppose I should say. You have any idea what’s going on?”
Jellal shook his head, regrettably.
“I would wager that the enemy somehow changed the landscape to fit their advantage. We aren’t near Hargeon anymore; instead, I believe Magnolia is close at hand.”
Laxus’s mouth gaped slightly.
“Magnolia…? That’s one hell of a Spell for them to just whip out… If they could do that, why not do so in the beginning?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know any of the details,” Jellal remarked. “It’s a very new type of Magic, since I had never even heard of something of this scale in legends… But my senses don’t lie. We’ve definitely been moved around, geographically. And I imagine it’s not just us – there’s no point in setting just the two of us back in Magnolia; Alvarez doesn’t want anything from Hargeon, and Kagura and many others are still powerful enough to deal with the threat in Hargeon.”
Laxus crossed his arms patiently.
“You’re right… None of it adds up, unless their purpose was to move their own forces into Magnolia and take our First Master… Or more accurately, the ‘Fairy Heart’, which houses our First Master’s body… it’s got infinite Magical power.”
Jellal’s eyes widened a bit in realization before he inclined his head.
“I see… So that is one of their goals in this war. I had not heard that bit of information yet…”
“Yeah, well, we weren’t going to drag anyone into this struggle in the first place, but it kind of got too big for one little Guild to handle, when Alvarez threw everything our way. In order to survive, getting help from the other Guilds was necessary. Having Crime Sorciere’s power backing us up will also be appreciated.”
“Since Natsu did the difficult part and killed Zeref, the least we can do is help crush Zeref’s forces.” Jellal affirmed. “Meldy and I were helping out in Hargeon, while the former Oracion Seis were headed for the battlefield in the North.”
Laxus grimaced slightly and dipped his head respectfully, shutting his eyes.
“I see, you heard about that Pyro as well…”
“The enemy brought him back to fight Erza,” Jellal revealed, causing Laxus to growl in rage.
“Bastards… Alvarez has a lot to answer for!”
Their discussion was broken up as a few more joined their party.
“Heeey! Laxus!” Wendy called out to her fellow Dragon Slayer as Charle carried Chelia over her shoulder, and Gray, Juvia, and Lyon walked beside them.
“Jellal, too?” Gray mumbled, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You guys know where we are?”
“Close to Magnolia.” Jellal answered. “We’re going to need to head straight there; I have a feeling that Alvarez has rearranged the board in their favor, so now we will have to take back Fairy Tail.”
“You really think Alvarez has that much power to cast such a Spell?” Lyon wondered, skeptically.
“It’d have to be someone from their side…” Charle mused. “No one we know has a kind of Magic that can move us from Hargeon to Magnolia…”
“It must be one of the Spriggan 12.” Juvia stated, frowning.
Lightning crackled around Laxus’s fist as he clenched it at chest level.
“It doesn’t matter what they did… They messed with our friends, our Guilds, so they’re not gonna get any mercy from me. Let’s head home… to Fairy Tail.”
~*~
“Wh…What is this…?! Everyone’s gone again?!” Mavis asked in horror as she once again stood in a Guildhall bereft of anyone. She could feel some bizarre Spell had been cast… But it was on such a wide scale that Mavis couldn’t believe such a Spell existed.
And she’d been so happy when Cana had managed to free her body from that crystal, too… But now, she was alone again…
“My, my… That’s very rude. I’m here, you know.”
Mavis gasped as a scarlet-haired woman, dressed like a witch, casually strode into the Guildhall. The strange woman’s Magic power was incredible… obscene… It was on an entirely different scale from that assassin’s strength, and he’d been more powerful than Makarov!
“Y-You…!” Mavis choked out, but the redhead wagged her finger.
“I wouldn’t get any ideas about trying to escape… Why don’t you come outside, and see for yourself?” Turning on her heel, the woman exited the doors to the Guildhall. Reluctantly, Mavis found herself slowly following after her. The sight she saw next… chilled her to the bone.
The landscape in Magnolia had been shifted greatly. The Guild was now on top of a hill, and at least one million soldiers were arrayed in an overwhelming formation at the base of the hill, easily encircling it. What’s more, there were some others just outside the Guildhall… a couple of them had even been locked up, in the Guild’s prison.
“Your comrades are currently making their way here, in order to take back the Guild.” The woman told Mavis, placing a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I do wonder, will they be able to break through our defenses? I cannot wait to find out~…”
Ajeel cackled.
“Not a chance in Hell!!! Not as long as Ajeel the Great is here, standing in their way!”
Jacob snorted beside him.
“That so, bigshot? I seem to recall you losing quite pathetically…”
“Look who’s talking, asshole!!” Ajeel fired back. He then donned a terrifying grin. “That fluke ain’t gonna happen again.”
“Naturally…” Jacob darkly agreed.
August strode up to Irene and slammed his staff on the ground. Brandish trailed behind him.
“Irene… you are out of line! His Majesty forbade you from using Universe One… and you know why.” The elder mage glowered at her, which Irene met with an even stare.
“His Majesty was killed, thus leaving the leadership of Alvarez in the hands of the Spriggan 12… And I have captured our target. You have no room to criticize me, O Mighty King~…” The redhead demurely responded. August’s face darkened.
“I am the General of the Spriggan 12, Irene, not you… And I gave my word to the mages of Fairy Tail that I would be open to negotiations. This war has taken a toll on both sides.”
“Truly?” Irene’s grip tightened on Mavis’s shoulder. “You, of all people, would forgive the fact they murdered our Emperor in cold blood…? And what’s more, you would abandon your pledge to make his will for this world a reality?”
The air between the two strongest mages of Alvarez grew frigid and heavy as they glared at each other. Mavis, Brandish, Jacob, and Ajeel were frozen in place with how much tension there was. But then, as if to break the stalemate, Invel’s voice cut in like a knife.
“I am afraid you are the one out of line, Magic King…” He stopped a short distance from the two, hands clasped behind his back. Dimaria and Neinhart were both behind him. “With His Majesty’s demise, it falls to us to avenge him, as well as kill Acnologia and humanity, such as his will dictated. There is absolutely no reason to even entertain ‘negotiations’…”
August slammed his staff on the ground once more, asserting his authority.
“I, too, followed His Majesty’s will unconditionally… But we must also remember: His Majesty wished to die. For centuries as he traveled the world and built Alakitasia from the ground up… his one and only wish was to have his immortal life extinguished. This desire to eradicate humanity and Acnologia together… was borne from the bitter despair of being unable to perish. We have no reason to carry out genocide, when his true dream was finally realized!”
Invel sighed airily, inclining his head slightly as his eyes closed.
“Such hubris, from our so-called mightiest mage…The circumstances for His Majesty’s desire for genocide are immaterial. It was his will that we would rise up and defeat Acnologia. And it was also his will that we would crush Ishgar under our heel…” Invel’s eyes snapped open as he coldly glared at August. “You are unfit to lead the Spriggan 12, if you can no longer recognize that much. You are relieved of your position as ‘General’…”
August’s eyes narrowed.
“You would dare to presume to have such authority, Invel? Only His Majesty wielded that right…”
“Zeref is dead, and so the leadership falls to you, me, and Irene.” Invel spoke matter-of-factly. He eyed the scarlet-haired woman. “Tell me, Irene, what is your opinion on this subject? Do you believe August is fit to lead?”
Irene grinned darkly as she did a small curtsy.
“Oh, I certainly agree, Invel… The Magic King does speak some bizarre things. I have sent Acnologia far away with Universe One, and Fairy Heart is within our grasp.” She placed her hand on top of Mavis’s head and gripped harshly. “We should begin the harvest of Fairy Heart immediately.”
Invel nodded sternly.
“Agreed. I will leave that task to you, and oversee our defenses personally.” Invel then regarded August once more. “You have this one chance to help us willingly, August… If you will not cooperate, I will find ways to persuade you.”
August’s face darkened once more, and he raised his staff to cast a Spell, but he was distracted when Brandish cried out in pain from behind him. He turned, alarmed, and witnessed one of Invel’s slave collars around her neck.
“Invel…!” August’s voice boomed with authority, but the ice mage wasn’t having any of it.
“It is no secret to us that, no matter how trivial that intimacy may be, you are close enough with Brandish that you would not see her harmed in any way…” Invel replied frostily. August knew he was not bluffing; he could make Brandish kill herself, so long as she had that collar on. “Now do as I say, and crush Fairy Tail alongside us!”
August shook with unbridled rage, but for the moment, he did keep himself in check… With a ferocious snarl, the Magic King stormed off. Only once August had gone did Invel release Brandish.
“The same will apply to you, Brandish… We will need every member of the twelve for this operation to succeed. I would rather not have to force my hand…” He spoke with a clinical coolness before striding off, himself. Brandish glared holes in the back of his head, but did not pursue him. Dimaria was the next one to approach her.
“Randi…” Dimaria greeted.
“Mari.” Brandish greeted back.
“I had heard you were captured. They didn’t treat you horribly, did they?”
“No…” Brandish responded tersely, and widened her eyes when Dimaria abruptly wrapped her in a hug.
“I won’t say any of those awful and cruel things to you ever again!” Dimaria sobbed. “I’m gonna pay those fiends back tenfold for laying their hands on you…!”
Brandish could say nothing in response to Dimaria’s emotional display. She was still so shocked by how quickly things were spiraling out of control, and she was still so angry with Invel disrespecting August and threatening her life… Even if she was still a loyal citizen of Alvarez, she was not loyal to Invel anymore… No matter how much he asserted his authority as Chief of Staff.
A light glowed nearby, as Larcade Dragneel was summoned by Neinhart.
“Friendship is one of the world’s greatest beauties…” The strange man chuckled to himself.
Mavis whirled on the man as she got a feel for his power.
‘That person’s Magic… What on Earthland… just what nature of Magic is that?!’
Irene smirked, still gripping Mavis tightly.
“Larcade was supposed to be the proverbial secret weapon, in His Majesty’s initial designs… Sadly, now that he is but a Historia, that potential has diminished to being just a strong fighter for us… I very much doubt he could defeat Acnologia in his current condition.” The redhead mused.
Neinhart could feel some sweat drip down his face as he conjured the other three Historias.
“Conjuring four Spriggan 12 members’ worth of Historias certainly takes its toll on me, I must admit…”
Bloodman cackled.
“I see… So I hath returned from the depths of the underworld…”
“Well, well, would ya look at this… the twelve have all gathered together… Ahyahyahya!!” Wahl cackled as well.
God Serena did a little eccentric dance of his own.
“Hmm…! Ho, ho, ho!” The Dragon Slayer struck a pose. “God Serena of the Eight Dragons… has been resurrected!”
Neinhart growled as he glared at the four Historias.
“I would like to remind you four that you’re already long dead. I’d advise you to protect me diligently, lest you disappear from the living realm… permanently…”
“Just leave it to godly me!” Serena boasted arrogantly.
Irene made a grandiose gesture with her free hand.
“One million soldiers… the twelve all reunited… Truly a magnificent sight to behold!”
Invel walked to the edge of the hill, hands still behind him.
“We have assembled a perfect, impenetrable battle formation… Do you still dare to come here, Fairy Tail?” He asked rhetorically. His tone took on a frigid tone once more. “I shall not allow you to see tomorrow…”
#Fairy Tail#Invel Yura#Dimaria Yesta#Neinhart#August Dragneel#Brandish Mu#Lucy Heartfillia#Cobra/Erik#Happy#Laxus Dreyar#Gray Fullbuster#Juvia Lockser#Jellal Fernandes#Wendy Marvell#Irene Belserion#Jacob Lessio#Ajeel#Wahl Icht#Bloodman#Larcade Dragneel#God Serena
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An Alternative History of Hypnotism
I’ve read a number of histories of hypnotism. Not as many as @hypnoticharlequin, who specializes in deep dives into hypnohistory, but enough. And while it’s fun to read the Wikipedia entry on history of hypnosis and read about Avicenna and Paracelsus, I think that this isn’t a history of hypnotism. It’s a history of hypnotizers.
To nail down my terms, I’m talking about hypnotism specifically as the act of hypnotizing, involving two people, a hypnotist and a subject. This is also called hetero-hypnosis, but I don’t like this terminology as it confuses the state of hypnosis with the process.
If you put together a history of hypnotism itself, you would be writing about inductions and suggestions. You would discuss the mental state needed to completely focus on one thing, and you would ask questions about how the mind processes thoughts. You would investigate how to persuade people to follow a particular course of action, and ask how persuasion works in general. And because concentrated focus and persuasion are ancient human activities, you would start teaching people how to do this soon after civilization started.
This is, of course, exactly what happened. The study of concentrated focus is called meditation. The study of persuasion is called rhetoric. Both meditation and rhetoric have been practiced for thousands of years. My thesis is that hypnotism is a synthesis of meditation and rhetoric, and therefore a history of hypnotism is a history of meditation and of rhetoric.
Definition of Hypnotism
Let’s address the definition right out the gate. Why do I say that hypnotism is a synthesis of meditation and rhetoric?
Wikipedia defines meditation as a “practice where an individual uses a technique – such as mindfulness, or focusing their mind on a particular object, thought or activity – to train attention and awareness, and achieve a mentally clear and emotionally calm state.” In conventional wisdom, meditation is centered on being aware of the present moment, or on compassion or mercy, but meditation can be used to focus the mind on any object, thought or activity.
Wikipedia defines rhetoric as “the art of using language to convince or persuade.” Rhetoric is most commonly associated with political discourse, but one branch of rhetoric is the act of picking out selective facts and weaving together a consistent story and worldview from those facts.
My interpretation of hypnotism in this context is that it is an act of meditation on the part of the subject, and an act of rhetoric on the part of the hypnotist. The hypnotist provides the rhetoric in the form of a consistent story backed up by facts (“convincers”) that the subject is becoming deeply hypnotized, and the subject provides focused concentration on the hypnotist’s suggestions, producing a meditative state that blurs the line between the suggestions of the hypnotist and the thoughts of the subject.
This is, of course, only one interpretation of hypnotism, and far from the only one. I believe this interpretation is useful, as it provides access to the concerns of rhetoric and meditation in a hypnotic context, and opens the door to useful analogies and discussion of issues that relate to those disciplines.
Sophists as Hypnotists
First, I’ll talk about rhetoric. Rhetoric was first invented by the (possibly apocryphal) Corax and Tisias but the first well known practitioners of rhetoric are the Sophists. Sophists were in some ways, the first hypnotists, and I’m going to take a sidebar to talk about them because the Sophists got unfairly trashed, and they are a fascinating bunch of people in their own right.
The Sophists were a group of teachers in ancient Greece. They were known for teaching the virtues of excellence “aretē” which was controversial for several reasons. One, the Sophists claimed that aretē was teachable, rather than an inherent quality that was bound to individuals at birth. Two, having established that they could transmit aretē to their students, they then asked for large sums of money to teach students. Three, the Sophists used rhetoric, and would teach it to their students.
At the time, it was assumed that each individual had a set level of aretē, provided by, and that was it. If you were a plumber, you’d stay a plumber. The Sophists not only disputed the aristocratic view of aretē, but they directly profited from their viewpoint. Either the Sophists were selling bullshit, in which case they were con artists, or they were teaching aretē to anyone who could afford it and thereby upsetting the natural order.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The Sophists were using rhetoric, the art of persuasion, and teaching it to their students.
To understand why the practice of teaching rhetoric was a hot-button issue, it helps to get some context. Greece in fifth and fourth centuries BC was a happening place. It was the most advanced economy in the world. However, Athenian democracy developed around fifth century BC. Democracy, the idea that each citizen had a vote, was new.
Because every citizen had a vote, it was no longer possible to target one man and flatter him. Instead, leaders had to speak to the populace at large, and convince them. They had to become politicians. The quality of eloquence and clear speaking was considered to be an inherent quality of aretē, owned by natural leaders. By codifying that quality as a teachable skill and teaching rhetoric, the Sophists were altering the course of lawsuits, influencing the way that the populace voted, and generally messing things up.
But it wasn’t about money and power. There’s a good argument to be made that by spreading rhetoric, the Sophists played a critical role in spreading democratic practices through peer polity interactions.
The Sophists were relativists. Protagoras said “Man is the measure of all things”, meaning that every man decides for himself what he believes. Following on from relativism, sophists believed that rhetoric was epistemic and rhetoricians had the potential to sculpt reality for their listeners, to create knowledge. To create the best reality, the Sophists genuinely believed in proof by argument and debate, and following dialectical arguments regardless of the existing convention. It’s interesting to note that although Sophia literally means wise, it also has a secondary meaning of “clever.” I suspect the ancient Greek translation of “sophist” was closer to “smartass.”
The Sophists famously “made the weaker argument stronger” according to Aristophanes. The Sophists argued for the perspective of the weak. It’s a stretch to say that the Sophists were tireless campaigners for the underdog, but they were willing to advocate for those positions regardless of the common wisdom. They were as “woke” as it was possible to be in ancient Greece. Alcidamas argued against slavery, saying “God has left all men free; nature has made no man a slave.” Protagoras proclaimed ignorance of the Gods. Gorgias argued against misogyny in An Encomium of Helen.
An Encomium of Helen is especially interesting, because of how much it packs in to a few pages. Gorgias’s description of rhetoric is immediately familiar to hypnotists.
Speech is a powerful lord, which by means of the finest and most invisible body effects the divinest works: it can stop fear and banish grief and create joy and nurture pity.
The discussion of hypnosis is often hamstrung by the conception of hypnosis as a party trick. Gorgias points out the power of words explicitly, reminding the audience of the effect of well chosen words.
Gorgias then posits Helen as being especially suggestible.
What cause then prevents the conclusion that Helen similarly, against her will, might have come under the influence of speech, just as if ravished by the force of the mighty? For it was possible to see how the force of persuasion prevails; persuasion has the form of necessity, but it does not have the same power. For speech constrained the soul, persuading it which it persuaded both to believe the things said and to approve the things done. The persuader, like a constrainer, does the wrong and the persuaded, like the constrained, in speech is wrongly charged.
Gorgias points out the loophole in free will, in that speech may “constrain the soul […] both to believe the things aid and to approve the things done.” This is relevant to hypnosis, because it’s been said that hypnosis can’t make you do things that you don’t want to do. This is missing the point, in that rhetoric (and by extension, hypnosis) is a tool designed to make you want to do and believe things in the first place. Gorgias also “coming under the influence” of the rhetorician, which is a classic depiction of hypnotists, and the issue of non-consensual influence.
Gorgias further describes the power of rhetoric as follows.
The effect of speech upon the condition of the soul is comparable to the power of drugs over the nature of bodies. For just as different drugs dispel different secretions from the body, and some bring an end to disease and others to life, so also in the case of speeches, some distress, others delight, some cause fear, others make the hearers bold, and some drug and bewitch the soul with a kind of evil persuasion.
Gorgias is clearly describing speech (logos) as having real, physical consequences with the ability to heal or harm, rather than speech as an abstract intellectual exercise or a game. This paragraph is thousands of years old, and could be pasted as is into a hypnotherapy book.
In philosophical terms, Gorgias espouses a deflationary epistemic anti-realism. In plain English terms, Gorgias says we are all easily manipulable meat bags.
Gorgias is also interesting because of his style. He was a professional diplomat, sent to Athens to ask for protection against the aggression of the Syracusans, and he was known for being able to argument on any subject. Crucially, Gorgias was interested in persuasive argument, rather than logical argument. Per Wikipedia, many philosophers take issue with Gorgias because his rhetoric was “frequently elusive and confusing; he makes many of his most important points using elaborate, but highly ambiguous, metaphors, similes, and puns.”
But Gorgias’s use of confusion and elision is deliberate, as is his use of ambiguity and metaphor. Gorgias is tying up the critical faculty of his audience and eliciting emotional states directly. His language is perfectly oriented to his goals. Andrew Patrick in Language is a Mighty Lord: A Gorgias Reader describes the style as “musicality, a rhythmic performance” and again, music and rhythm appeal directly to the senses without going through the critical faculty.
Gorgias cannot be called a hypnotist because he never explicitly called on his audience to focus on his words and believe him uncritically. However, because Gorgias codified and taught methods of persuasion to his students, and justified his teachings with a theory of mind and an understanding of the power of suggestion, he has a connection to hypnosis.
Mediators as Subjects
Hypnosis has a complicated relationship with meditation.
The big difference between hypnosis and meditation is the goal. Meditation is specifically goal-free: you’re not even supposed to seek enlightenment. Hypnosis is goal oriented: you induce, you place suggestions, you finish up. Yapko says “Mindfulness applied in a clinical context for the purpose of changing someone is quite different than mindfulness for spiritual enlightenment.” Adam Eason describes hypnosis as a form of goal oriented focused attention meditation, and while that’s literally true, it has other implications that we’ll get to. Nevertheless, I am not aware of anything that is more like hypnosis than meditation, and I am keenly aware of falling into the “everything is hypnosis” trap. By keeping the definition of hypnosis as goal oriented focused attention meditation, there is at least a model which allows “like for like” comparisons of other forms of meditation to hypnosis.
In Mindfulness and Hypnosis, Yapko is careful to differentiate hypnosis and mindfulness, saying “they differ in philosophical foundations and stated intentions, [but] do share a common practical foundation, common methodology, and common therapeutic orientation” and also “clinical hypnosis and mindfulness share core values and practices.” Yapko then analyzes several guided mindfulness meditation techniques and points out that they are composed of many direct and indirect suggestions.
There’s been a large amount of attention paid to the neuroscience of meditation recently, and it really solidifies the early literature with clinical studies and hard science. Attention regulation and monitoring in meditation shows the ins and outs of attention regulation, and it’s clear that many of the same parts of the brain are being used in meditation as hypnosis. Hypnosis and Meditation: Towards an Integrative Science of Conscious Planes is an excellent book, for discussing the links between hypnosis and meditation, but do so from a cognitive science perspective.
Interestingly enough, in the course of research I found that meditation retreats can involve ‘Dark Night’ stages that can involve psychotic breakdowns, and Dr Daniel Ingram and Professor Willoughby Britton look like great resources to check out in the future.
However, this doesn’t get us closer to a history of the practice of meditation and how it relates to hypnosis. What would be interesting is a discussion of depth in meditation. Intimations that suggestibility may be increased in states of meditation. Discussions of catalepsy and a correlation to Esdaile state. This doesn’t show up so much in meditation. Monks will fall asleep, but monks are not known for moving around other monks in a state of tonic immobility. There are references all the way back to “temple sleep” and Imhotep, but this is not specifically related to meditation, but to healing. The earliest reference I can find is the Ebers Papyrus, referenced from Jon Mongiovi.
Things get more interesting when looking at the history of western hypnosis. The official record that Esdaile had seen mesmerism tried at the medical college, and used it for analgesia. Will Durant says “The Englishmen who introduced hypnotherapy to England- Braid, Esdaile and Elliotson- undoubtedly got their ideas, and some of their experience, from contact with India.” He does not cite his sources, but it seems likely that Esdaile’s contact with India prompted his curiosity. Durant does not mention which brand of hypnosis was at work here, but India has a strong tradition of hypnosis-like states. So, let’s pull on that thread.
Esdaile was clearly aware and fascinated by Fakirs and mesmerism. In a letter to James Braid, Esdaile says “It happened curiously enough, that the sleeping Fakir of Lahore had attracted my attention about the very time your interesting account of him appeared, and I had actually written to Sir Henry Lawrence [an influential British statesman and soldier in India], begging him to procure us information on the subject; but my departure from India, shortly after, prevented my prosecution of the subject.”
More importantly, Esdaile wrote a book, Mesmerism in India! This is a fascinating read right from the Editor’s preface, in which the editor hypnotizes a friend with insomnia who then refuses to come out of trance. Cultural factors convinced ors probably contributed to Esdaile’s success. Esdaile says “the people of this part of the world seem to be peculiarly sensitive to the mesmeric power” and says “the success I have met with is mainly to be attributed […] to my patients being the simple, unsophisticated children of nature.” Esdaile’s authority as a doctor and the population’s general acceptance of hypnosis may have done most of the work for him. Esdaile also describes a magician in Bengal and they compare methods, and Esdaile allows that “if these charmers ever do good by such means, it is by the Mesmeric influence, probably unknown to themselves.” The magician, presenting himself as a subject, said afterward “it is allowed that you put me to sleep.” So both recognize the other as using different means to the same ends.
On the part of Braid, it’s clear that although he was familiar with Hindu Yoga, he was extremely skeptical: “So much for the lively fancy and fervid faith of these religious enthusiasts, during their dreams, in the state of self-induced hypnotism, through fixing their thoughts or sight upon some part of their own bodies, or on some ideal [i.e., imaginary] or inanimate objects, and holding their breath, or suppressing their respiration.”
Braid’s experience is on the nose. Trying to find a direct line between hypnosis and meditation is a mess, because there are so many pathways into the mental state, and they are deeply entangled in the context of a particular religious or mystical framework. The powers of imagination and belief will do the rest. A person is hypnotized because they believe that they are hypnotized.
This has larger epistemic implications. Hypnosis itself may be inextricably bound to culture. You can’t do a hypnosis experiment without invoking the concept of “experiment” and the scientific tradition behind it. All the theories of hypnosis put together still operate within a “hypnotherapist” or “hypnotist” Western role, and Kihlstrom’s Third Way explicitly defines hypnosis “simultaneously as both a state of (sometimes) profound cognitive change, involving basic mechanisms of cognition and consciousness, and as a social interaction, in which hypnotist and subject come together for a specific purpose within a wider socio-cultural context.”
Summary
Hypnotism can be interpreted as a synthesis of rhetoric and meditation. On the part of rhetoric, it can be traced fairly directly back to Gorgias. On the part of meditation, although it’s possible to define hypnotism as a particular form of meditation, I was unable to find a good historical precedent for a goal-oriented meditation. My theory as to why meditation does not have a historical precedent is based around the formulation of meditation in a cultural context, and the idea of hypnosis as a problem-solving activity is in itself very specifically tied to Western culture.
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The Trinity Wedding: Part 6
An enormous roar of approval is heard from the gathered crowd and the High-Priestess visibly winces. Indeed, everyone standing on the dais feels the wrath of Condea about to descend.
Instead, everyone else receives the ‘wisdom’ of the Council of Nobles’ Old Man. “I object to how long this is taking. You realize there’s food getting cold right now, right?”
Larcos steps forward to address the bitter vampire in their midst. “Do you happen to have, for once in all your many years my friend, a warm body to return to? In a cage, perhaps? Or, a box?” The audience roars with laughter, much to the other man’s consternation.
"You wanna talk shit, but here’s the deal: They all want to fuck, and we all wanna eat. So–let’s all just agree to shut the fuck up and let them get to fuckin’ so we can get to eating.“
Larcos is about to make a follow-on assault on Condea’s verbal tirade, only to be interrupted by the irritated noble’s thoughts in his head. Sobo'Avill, pay the fuck attention. Shut these assholes up, or this wedding ceremony is going to go down in history as the most rejected match up in Nishanian history; and that’s bad for my business. Understand?
The Baron’s brows rise, more in surprise that the Count is - after his own fashion - attempting to safeguard the Marquis’ matrimonial bliss, but also in understanding of what must be done. Condea falls silent, and Nerenna raises her voice a second time. "Does anyone object to the union of these men and this woman in marital bliss?”
Discreetly, Larc uses a somatically empowered spell to cast a brief but expansive Silence spell across the assembled crowd. Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Thirty; and he releases it in time for Nerenna to turn once more to the Trinity to continue. The time to object passes and the ceremony continues uninterrupted. “Now, that we’ve gotten Count Condea’s request under consideration, I believe it is time for the three of you to share your vows.”
More that satisfied with Teren’s answer regarding holding her hand, the adoring look heats with the weight of his promise for things to come. Good… I’d have it no other way…. There was no other way, as far as she was concerned.
Addie’s anxiety returned with a vengeance as the required path to marital bliss gave open cause for all of Nishan to rise up in defiance of their union if they wished. A thousand terrible thoughts were then personified in a single cry of objection that crushed her heart but didn’t make her posture falter at the reaction from the crowd, no matter how much she might want to crumble.
For Addie’s family, the reaction is no less visceral as their spine snapped straight and every bit of smiles on their faces became neutral and stone like expression, save Tanner who’s green eyes narrowed in defiance of the noble’s outburst.
Teren and Lycan surely felt their soon to be wife’s heart skip and her breathing start to hitch as Condea spoke, only to turn into absolute confusion once more in actually listening to what he was saying. Her certainly wasn’t wrong in his reading of the situation, but she could have hugged Larcos for his quick retort and dousing of the spark that could have sent everything up into flames.
The second time the question was asked, she didn’t breathe, think or move. Ten seconds felt like an eternity, and everything else after that was absolute torture. Only when Nerenna spoke again was the palatable sense of relief enough to break her formidable poise and see her shoulders move down from her ears.
With a deep breath and look between Teren and Lycan that anchored the storm brewing, she waited, as she always would, for them.
With their hands intertwined and bound by the braided ribbons chosen for their ceremony, Teren psychically unifies the Trinity so that their recitation of the traditional Nishanian wedding vows arrives in a perfected chorus of unison; rich with the depth of their love for one another and the precipice of the shared future they stand on. .
“Heart to Heart, Hand to Hand,
Bound forever to this land
Never to waiver, Always to be,
Bound together n matrimony.”
"Soul to Soul and Eye to Eye
We bind ourselves to this sky
Never to waiver, always to be,
Bound together in matrimony,”
"Blood to Blood, Skin to Skin
United are we, until the end.
Never to waiver, always to be,
Bound together in matrimony.”
"Ashes to Ashes, Above and Below
Always together, wherever we go.
Never to waiver, always to be,
Bound together in matrimony.”
"Soil to Soil, In Spring and in Fall
In life and in death, let us recall.
Never to waiver, always to be,
Bound together in matrimony.”
.
As the vows are spoken, even Condea is affected by the emotion pouring out across their collective tongues. Rising from his seat, the vampiric noble calmly exits the ceremony, making a beeline for the Mansion’s roof from which to brood in peace.
Nerenna calmly clears her throat at the conclusion of the Trinity’s perfectly woven notes, smiling as a crystalline film shimmers across her pale green eyes. “Well then. After a performance like that, what more can I say?” She muses before cementing the marriage in proper Nishanian fashion. “By the powers vested in me as the High-Priestess of the Church of Light in the Federation of Nishan, I now pronounce you Husband–” She bows to Teren, “–and Husband–” she turns to bow her head to Lycan, “–and wife.” she finishes, bowing her head to Adilynia and taking a step back before concluding. “You may now kiss your Husband and wife; your wife and your Husband; your Husbands, and your wife.” Snickering to herself, she teases. “I hope I got everyone in there on that one.”
Baron Sobo'Avill triggers a much appreciated and long-delayed spell, and sparks explode high over the top of the Trinity, the Mansion, and the thousands of Nishan Federation’s citizens gathered in and beyond the gates.
Uproarious applause echo for miles in every direction, burdening even the most hard of hearing and reaffirming for As'eh Condea the wisdom of having left before the ceremony concluded. Even from his perch, the roar was stupendously unpleasant. Looking up at the extraordinary array of red, gold, brown and blue lights shimmering and exploding across the night sky, he muses to himself. “Not a bad light show, though.”
For the Praetorium, the moment of the vows arrives with solemn expressions that turn warm in the Trinity of voices that rises above the crowd. Formality is cast aside for the Commander’s arms wrapping around Tanner and Brilaria as they watch their Pixie take the last steps away from them. All three are moved by the vows spoke, so much so that the Confessor and squire’s eyes spill soft emotion down their cheeks that is wiped away by the careful hand of Mal with a knowing and brave smile of his own.
Even for Raelin, the moment is profound and leaves the ginger heathen wiping at the corner of his eyes with one hand, while the other still has yet to move from the braid in his hair.
Anxiety and objections faded away to nothing but the sound of the Trinity’s combined voices rising together to create a chorus of unequivocal love and devotion, that while they could try, none could deny. Together they speak the sanctified vows that would cement a future so hardly fought for, which once had seemed impossibly far to reach for, let alone earn, in the multi-colored cords wrapped around their hands. Word for word, the small Outsider matches the strength, purpose, and reverence of the sacred vows spoken by Teren and Lycan, as if she had always known the words in her heart, but never had reason or cause to speak them.
Until now.
Now, the divinity found in the Nishanian vows spoken between the Trinity is held with all the sanctity one expects of a Light-wielding paladin, the bravery and commitment of a Valkyr, the pride and purpose in a joyful heart, and the promise that would never be broken. Held higher than even the tabard of blue and silver she once coveted, the Trinity’s commitment to one another would stand as the most reverent oath ever promised, and held in exalted rank until the last star fell.
For Addie, the moment is overwhelming, surreal, and seared into her memories with misty eyes; March 19th. The day the most exalted vow she’d even taken, or would take, came not with the promise of armor and glory, but the peace in knowing the places they had promised one another were now fully realized. It settled in her heart and across bonded connection as nothing else ever had, and would ever again. Not even Larcos’s brilliant and beautiful spell catches her attention, nor the thousands that ring in her ears, as the world, and everything in it, became almond and sapphire, and centered on Teren and Lycan. Looking between them as the tears in her eyes threaten to spill over with the profound happiness felt in that moment, the small knights hand finally shifts to wrap more firmly around theirs.
The hand that had stayed so still against theirs curled slowly so the tips of her fingers could brush against the warm skin of her now husbands. The thought and promise of sealing it all with public kiss, doesn’t at all rattle her, but pushes her toes into the ground with expectation of what is to come with the tenderest of smiles for both of them. Yes, gentleman….by all means, do kiss your wife, Addie shared with a laugh between them as the mist in her eyes gathered to send salted tears to her softly blooming cheeks. The singular title that rolled off her thoughts instantly became her favorite and was spoken with such pride and happiness in knowing she was theirs… and they were hers. …and don’t ever stop…
Wait for it… Teren teases, looking down into Adilynia’s eyes.
Lycan stifles a laugh as his heart explodes with happiness. Pretty sure that's Nerenna's line.
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JACOBIN MAGAZINE
“An adolescent’s world can be bleak,” said an official with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention this week. The agency just released the results of its National Youth Risk Behavior Survey, which revealed an increase in teens reporting “feelings of sadness or hopelessness.” The report found that “during the 12 months before the survey, 31.5% of students nationwide had felt so sad or hopeless almost every day for 2 or more weeks in a row that they stopped doing some usual activities.”
Overall, the numbers portray a teenage populace that — while less likely than a decade ago to binge drink, for example — is increasingly discouraged.
To cope with the problem, the CDC urges intervention by schools and health-care providers. But we also shouldn’t neglect to ask bigger questions about how to actually make life better for teenagers. And while there’s no doubt that acute interventions by schools, service providers and caretakers can be crucial in many cases, making life better for teens requires thinking about how we arrange society as a whole — and how we might rearrange it.
Here are three large-scale reforms that would dramatically improve young people’s lives. Because they all involve major redistributions of society’s material resources, they can only be won through mass political struggle against entrenched capitalist interests. Perhaps that’s why we rarely hear them mentioned in typical conversations about public health: they require more political imagination than we’re used to.
These reforms would undoubtedly make life seem less bleak, less scary and less hopeless for teenagers — but not just teenagers. By emphasizing collective social wellbeing over private profits they would improve life for all of us.
Medicare for All
Nearly ten percent of American adolescents are medically uninsured. This means two million teenagers have no access to medical care that they can’t afford out-of-pocket, and since the majority of uninsured people live in poverty, that often means no medical care at all. Medicines to treat depression can cost up to $200 a month without insurance, and an ambulance ride goes for over $1,000 out-of-pocket in some places. Any serious program aimed at improving teen health, mental or otherwise, needs to start with a demand for universal health insurance, no exceptions.
But universal access to the current insurance system won’t cut it. In United States today, even people who are insured are frequently blocked from attaining the care they need. That’s because in the US health insurance provision is dominated by private companies oriented entirely around profit, and therefore materially motivated to reject clients, trim services, and deny claims wherever possible. Consequences for teenagers range from not having access to mental and behavioral health specialists — which are disproportionately out-of-network — to experiencing financial difficulties at home that are exacerbated by unaffordable deductibles and out-of-pocket expenses.
We need not only to design a system where everyone is insured, but also to shift the responsibility for financing health care from the private to the public sector. A single-payer healthcare or Medicare for All system, at least as socialists envision it, would not only guarantee that teenagers and their families have insurance, but that all care is cost-free at the point of service — no premiums, copays or deductibles. The system would be financed through taxes based on ability to pay. Contrary to neoliberal folk-wisdom that capitalist markets can provide everything society needs better and more efficiently than public programs, under a single-payer system Americans would see their healthcare costs drop while their access to health services goes up.
Unlike private insurance, where profit-driven companies play doctor for their clients by selecting which services they deem medically necessary, a single-payer insurance program would cover everything that requires a health professional, for everyone. Teenagers and their families would be able to access everything from ambulance rides to mental, reproductive and sexual health services, without prohibitive costs or corporate gatekeeping. This would not only make it easier to stage acute interventions when teenagers are in crisis, but it would also improve their families’ and communities’ overall financial and health outlooks. And that would make life a lot less bleak.
Stop School Privatization
Even in the United States, the beating heart of global capitalism, ordinary citizens tend to believe that some things are too vitally important to be left exposed to the free market. For a long time public education was chief among these, and there was a broad consensus that the government should provide free public education to the nation’s children with money raised through taxes.
But capitalism is driven by a compulsion to open and invade new markets, and when it lacks a viable opposition it will target even our most sacrosanct public institutions for privatization. For decades, as funding drained from local public schools — especially in poor and racially segregated neighborhoods — neoliberal reformers advocated privatizing them in whole or in part, through voucher schemes and charter schools. The worse those schools performed, the louder the privatization chorus grew, and the more plausible their solutions looked to desperate parents and students.
In other words, after years of denigrating and neglecting public education, neoliberals looked upon their handiwork with feigned horror and proclaimed that public education system irreparably broken. It must—for the kids, of course—be replaced by a labyrinthine patchwork of semi-private alternatives, which are partially publicly funded but from which someone always profits.
By allowing charter schools to siphon kids out of public schools, and by funding that outsourcing of education with public money, we’re subsidizing the “death by a thousand cuts” of our own public educational system. And when the institutions meant to serve teenagers are so visibly de-prioritized and allowed to decay, the teenagers are bound to notice. It’s hard to imagine that there isn’t a correlation between teenagers feeling demoralized and the deterioration of the institutions where they spend most of their waking lives — schools with larger class sizes, decaying equipment, fewer teachers at worse pay, evaporating art and recreational opportunities, and dwindling mental health support, all due to austerity budgets and neoliberal market-based reforms.
The enormity of the threat to public schools, and the magnitude of the task of restoring them, can’t be overstated. But a moratorium on charter schools would be a good place to start.
Tuition-Free Public University
The percentage of high-school graduates who immediately enroll in college bounces up and down, but has been trending upward over the last two decades. Nearly 70 percent of 2017 grads enrolled directly after graduation, up from roughly 60 percent in the early nineties. But that’s not because college is more affordable. On the contrary, private four-year non-profit college tuition costs more than doubled over the same time frame, while public university tuition tripled. And average student debt has increased by seven hundred percent.
High school students are in a bind. They know that a college degree increases their chances of getting a decent-paying job, but they also know that their families are unlikely to be able to afford that degree, and they’ll personally be on the hook for it—maybe for decades.
Will the earnings boost outweigh the debt, or vice versa? How the hell is a seventeen-year-old supposed to know? This predicament no doubt exacerbates young people’s feelings of pervasive discouragement. Already they must decide whether to begin their working life (if they haven’t already), or to sign over a significant portion of their future earnings to a student loan provider. It’s a startling and dehumanizing early encounter with the cruelties of capitalism.
And it’s unnecessary. It’s completely possible for our society to make public four-year universities tuition-free.
(Continue Reading)
#politics#the left#jacobin#jacobin magazine#Millennials#generation z#progressive#progressive movement#medicare for all#single payer#public education#charter schools#tuition free college#capitalism
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