#accidentally spelled prophecy as prophesy

[signs-of-the-moon]

Moon High: Chapter 21

Warriors came rushing to aid as they heard the cry of the ginger she-cat ring clear across the forest. Leafheart hunched over the mutilated body of her son, Flamepaw, and Moonpaw watched on helplessly. There was so much happening all at once that it was hard to concentrate.

Moonpaw blinked, seeing Thornberry and some of the other mentors gather to console the grieving she-cat. Then, in the next moment, when Moonpaw blinked again, Smokepaw was beside her. He appeared to be speaking, judging by the movement of his mouth, but no words could be heard. The only thing Moonpaw could hear was the rapid thumping of her heart and a ringing in her ears. She tried to force herself to pay attention. But it was difficult. She didn't feel like she was present at the moment. Her body didn't feel like her own.

Moonpaw stared with wide unfocused eyes at the smokey gray tom. He continued to try and communicate. Then Smokepaw's brows furrowed as he realized Moonpaw couldn't understand him. He turned, and Moonpaw blinked again.

The next thing she knew, she was being led through the woods. Beepaw walked on one side of her, just behind Smokepaw. She was saying something, but again, nothing seemed legible to Moonpaw.

Time flew away from her like a bird on a strong gale, because the next thing she knew, the group was entering Treeclan's camp. Mothsong and Berrypaw ran over to them, checking every cat over. They seemed so distant to Moonpaw, like they were walking just at the edge of her vision. Smokepaw gestured towards his littermate, and for the first time in a while, Moonpaw could partially make out what was being said.

"She's... ...shock," Mothsong noted, her words cutting in and out of Moonpaw's consciousness. Moonpaw could barely feel the brush of the medicine cat's tail against her shoulder as she was prompted to follow towards the healer's den. An orange blob lay near her feet as she passed. Yet her mind wouldn't allow her to focus well enough to see exactly what the shape was.

Moonpaw then found herself settling into a nest as the calico she-cat brought over some herbs. I'm not sick, Moonpaw protested internally, confusion clouding her mind. She wasn't the one who should be tended to right now. But Mothsong didn't seem to think so, judging by the look of concern on her face.

"...eat...." Moonpaw barely heard her say. And though she felt like taking the medicine was pointless, Moonpaw followed directions anyways. She swallowed bitter plants first--thyme and goatweed, Moonpaw remembered their names being. Next, a tiny seed rolled onto her tongue and slithered down her throat, just as a soothing scent entered into her nostrils. Chamomile? Moonpaw guessed as her head grew heavy. She saw Mothsong in front of her. The beautiful medicine cat signed the word "sleep" in the Silent Language. Then, as if on command, Moonpaw found herself being pulled into a deep, restless slumber.

An uncountable amount of time passed before Moonpaw stirred awake. Her head felt heavy and body felt numb as all of her consciousness returned to her at last. She could finally think and see clearly. The medicine Mothsong had given her worked wonders on her foggy mind. But now Moonpaw felt stiff as a log. Stretching, the silver and white she-cat moved to stand from her nest. But before she could, a rustling sounded from the entrance of the medicine den. Moonpaw curled back up into her sleeping spot, not wanting to be reprimanded for leaving it before she was given permission. Two cat-scents made their way to her nose, before she could see who was coming.

"I'm glad I could catch you," Moonpaw recognized the smell and mew of Mothsong.

The second scent belonged to Wolfheart. "I was already on my way here. I wanted to check on Moonpaw."

"You must be Starclan sent, then."

"What do you mean?"

The medicine cat ushered the gray and white tom deep into the den, past Moonpaw and closer to the medicine stores. She didn't speak a word, but motioned for the tom to make himself comfortable.

Wolfheart wrapped his tail around himself as he sat, his back facing Moonpaw.

"Has something happened?" Wolfheart spoke aloud the question his daughter had in mind. His voice was pleading, begging to know what knowledge Mothsong withheld. Moonpaw peered through half-squinted eyes, trying to gauge what was going on without being caught.

Mothsong sat next to the wall of her den, too distant to notice her patient had woken up. Her focus was rested on Wolfheart. A turbulent expression took over her features as she paused a moment or two to find the right things to say.

"Starclan sent me a dream early this morning. A prophecy they wish to be shared."

"A...prophecy?" Wolfheart sounded to be in disbelief. Moonpaw shared his sentiment. Prophecies were rare. It was even rarer for them to be shared with an ordinary cat. But if Mothsong was so insistent with telling Wolfheart about it, then he must be involved somehow.

Excitement began to bloom in Moonpaw's chest. Was Wolfheart a prophecy cat? That would mean he would be a hero, just like in the stories of the ancients Badgerface spoke of!

Mothsong lifted her chin, her eyes growing dim. When she parted her jaws to recite Starclan's words, she spoke in a voice that did not sound like her own. "A great threat lurks, brought forth by darkness and forged by wolf's strength. Only when the moon can face its fate will the night rise. Do whatever possible to keep its light alive."

The air grew thick with tension as silence settled in. A few heavy moments passed. Mothsong appeared to return to normal. Still, there was unease between both the adult cats.

Wolfheart swayed his tail thoughfully. "...What does it mean?"

Mothsong shook her head. "I do not know. But this is the message Starclan has asked me to share."

"And they wanted you to share it with me...? Why? Do you think...it has something to do with my daughter?" Her father's fur was bristling, as if he were afraid. The faint scent of fear creeped its way to Moonpaw's nose, confirming her suspicion. Was he scared that Starclan had wanted to share a message with him? Or was he more fretful of what the prophecy meant? Moonpaw, too, found herself wondering what their words foretold. It wasn't the prediction of grandeur and heroism she had hoped for her father. Instead it sounded to be a more illfated warning.

"It's a possibility. But there's a chance the message could be more metaphorical as well. All I know for certain, is that things will reveal themselves in their due time."

"That's true." Wolfheart sighed. "I just...hope this doesn't mean Moonpaw's in danger." Moonpaw saw Wolfheart's head shift. He must have been glancing at her over his shoulder. But she couldn't exactly see his eyes from the direction his body faced. There was a sag of guilt in the gray and white tom's posture, as if whatever was prophesied was his fault. Love and sympathy squeezed Moonpaw's heart. She wanted so badly to sit up and comfort her father, but she would be caught easedropping if she were to do so.

Mothsong rested her tail upon Wolfheart's shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever happens is in the paws of Starclan. But they have never steered us wrong before. So please, have faith in them, and whatever their plans may be."

I will keep faith in them, Moonpaw swore, peering over at her dad as she hoped he'd do the same.

The gray and white tom fell silent for a moment. "...I trust your wisdom, Mothsong. But please, if you learn anything new, let me know first."

"Of course." Mothsong blinked slowly.

As if summoned by the thought of him, Wolfheart turned around to face his kit. Moonpaw quickly shut her eyes, hoping her father didn't see her awake. Heartbeats later she felt his fur pressing to hers, and the rumble of a purr in his chest.

"Are you waking up already, chipmunk?" He checked. Moonpaw resisted the urge to flinch. Instead, she slowly fluttered open her eyes, looking up at the loving face of her kin.

"Papa...?" She feigned fatigue in her voice as she spoke. Wolfheart smiled down at her, running his tongue over her ears and cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

Tired, miserable, confused, were some of the words that came to mind. Instead of speaking Moonpaw shrugged, resting her head against her paws.

"I understand," Wolfheart hummed, nuzzling her. "You should rest more. Hopefully you'll feel like yourself after."

That sounds like a good idea, Moonpaw agreed and gave a yawn. Wolfheart rose from her side and walked out of the medicine den. Mothsong followed him out not long afterwards with flowers in her jaws.

Moonpaw rested for a while more, ruminating in thoughts of the present and the future. Most of all she thought about the prophecy and what it could mean. Eventually, her body grew tired of laying in its resting position. Her paws itched to move and go into the camp where the rest of the clan would be gathered. With a swish of her tail, Moonpaw stood and padded out of the medicine den.

In the center of camp, Flamepaw's body laid. Berrypaw had just finished rubbing herbs into his pelt. But he wasn't able to cover up the death scent in time. Due to the long journey home, and the state of Flamepaw's body, birds of prey managed to catch on to the passing of the young apprentice. When Moonpaw looked up she could see a hawk soaring by the dusk kissed clearing every now and then. But the threatening hoot of an owl kept the other predator away. Tonight's vigil would be extra guarded, Moonpaw bet. A shiver ran down her spine as she made her approach towards her deceased clanmate. Several cats were ahead of her, each taking a few moments to sit close to Flamepaw and share tongues with him one last time. Then they'd move aside, allowing other cats to come forward and do the same. Most cats remained in the open to sit vigil for the remainder of the night. While those too young, old, or not close enough to Flamepaw took their leave and headed to their dens to sleep.

As Moonpaw took her turn to sit vigil, she noticed Den Keepers scaling the trees in camp. With precision and care, they wrapped greenbrier vines around branches, high above where any cat would normally climb. They used moss and broad leaves to grip the thorny appendages tying them tightly before descending to the ground. The vines were a cautionary measure, to deter feathered fiends from landing within striking range of the camp. Good, Moonpaw sighed with a bit of relief, tucking her legs beneath her as she bowed her head near Flamepaw's and prayed.

After her prayer, Moonpaw lifted her muzzle and began to groom his cheek. His fur smelled strongly of lavender and death, but beneath--if one pressed their nose close--Flamepaw's natural scent could be caught. Moonpaw did her best to commit it to memory. Then she rose to her paws, and after one last press of their foreheads together, the silver molly moved away. As she did, Leafheart looked to her apprentice and nodded at her thankfully. Moonpaw returned the warrior's gesture with a respectful head dip. Then she moved to flank her mother and father, who watched on from the edge of camp. Moonpaw saw yerning crackling in Wolfheart's pale green eyes as she settled with him. His focus was fixed on Blazestar who sat solemnly beside his mate.

Brightsky nudged Wolfheart encouragly with her muzzle, prompting the gray and white warrior to go sit beside his old friend. Wolfheart seemed cautious as he moved to take the chance and padded over to Blazestar. He dipped his head deeply to the clan's leader before taking a seat beside him. Wolfheart looked between his clanmates as if waiting to be judged. But no one spoke out. Instead, Blazestar rested his tail on the younger tom's shoulders and blinked at him with gratitude. He seemed to be reassuring Wolfheart of something. Whatever that may be breathed a small puff of confidence into the gray and white tom. Moonpaw was happy that her father could be there to support Blazestar.

Beside her, Brightsky sniffled a little, her cheek fur dampened with tears. At the other side of her, Magpiepaw laid. Her muzzle was buried in their mother's fur for comfort. Moonpaw wanted to say some soothing words to them both, but for once she had nothing to mew about. Grief tightened in her chest. All Moonpaw wanted to do right now was enjoy the comfort of her living loved ones. Speaking of loved ones, Moonpaw's thoughts suddenly landed on Hazepaw. Would he be waiting for her tonight? Something had held him up from joining the Gathering yesterday. Surely he'd be wanting to see Moonpaw tonight instead. Should I really sneak away to go see Hazepaw, though? Moonpaw wondered as her gaze flitted between her clanmates. Seeing their miserable faces made Moonpaw feel even worse. No one would be of great comfort here. So, Moonpaw set her mind on going off into the woods alone. Backing away, Moonpaw turned tail and headed for the Entrance Tree. Smokepaw called out to her as she climbed, asking where she was going.

"I need some space..." Moonpaw confessed before taking off into the trees. Wind flowed through her long fur as she ran across the forest towards the familiar rocks of Rubble Path. The trees thinned the closer she drew to the territory's edge, until finally only grass and sand remained. Moonpaw parted her jaws to taste the air. She needed to know Hazepaw was waiting for her. But any scent of hin was stale. Maybe he's disguising it, Moonpaw hoped.

"Hazepaw?" She called out, stalking to the top of Rubble Path. She peered down, looking between the jagged stones for a familiar white pelt. Then her eyes began to comb the sand and brush nearby. "Hazepaaaaw!" She called again, her voice echoing with the rise in volume. But no reply ever came. Nor did anyone emerge from the dark surrounding her. Great disappointment weighed heavily upon Moonpaw, even worse than what she'd felt the night before.

"Hazepaw..." tears began to well in the silver and white molly's eyes. She sniffed, then hung her head. I need you... the words remained inside her mind as she sobbed softly to herself. Moonpaw let herself cry alone for a while, until the worse of her grief was finally released. Then after calming down, she turned, retreating back home to curl up in the paws of her family.

As the first rays of sunlight began to crawl across the forest, Treeclan gathered together as one within the clearing of camp. They huddled in a large circle around the deceased apprentice they mourned. Some cats parted to allow Badgerface, Daisypetal, and Elmfoot through. Mothsong and Berrypaw had just finished wrapping Flamepaw's torso with vines--to keep him in one piece during the move. The medicine cats dipped their heads in respect to the elders as they got out of their way. Guards came to surround the old warriors as they took their place around Flamepaw.

Then, Daisypetal lifted her muzzle and began to release a keening cry into the morning air. Blazestar joined her, with Leafheart and their kits joining two heartbeats after. Moonpaw heart ached as she listened to their cries. Then she brought up her nose and joined the rest of her clanmates in a mourning song. Flamepaw's spirit was being commended to Starclan; his soul likely accepted by this time after facing judgment in the Twilight Passage. Flamepaw was a good cat. Silverpelt will welcome him with open paws, Moonpaw assured herself as the clan finally finished singing. Then, the elders lifted Flamepaw's body. Flanked by the Guards, the old warriors marched the deceased tom towards the thorn barrier and out of Treeclan's camp one last time. The clan watched after them for a few extra moments before finally breaking apart. Some cats went about their duties for the day. Others headed to their dens for a nap. Moonpaw contemplated doing the same, the weight of all that happened still heavy upon her. But Moonpaw knew she'd have no luck sleeping. So, instead, she took herself to the nursery.

Brightsky trilled in surprise as she noticed her daughter following her tail. "Moonpaw? Do you need something?"

"I want to have a talk with the queens," Moonpaw explained earning a nod of understanding from her mother. Brightsky ushered the silver and white molly into the nursery with a whisk of her tail. Moonpaw ducked beneath the large tree roots as she padded down the slope into the den. Since light had barely managed to greet the world, there was no need to adjust to the darkness within.

Mapleshine and Silverhawk sat up in their nests, their attention focused on Moonpaw. Surely they knew she was here for a session with them. And the pair seemed ready to listen to all that needed to be said. Moonpaw sat in a spot between all the queen's nests. But she sat closest of all to her mom.

"Speak, child," Silverhawk prompted with a nod. Her gesture was welcoming and wise. "Get whatever you need off your chest."

Moonpaw took a deep breath, then spilled her guts about everything. About watching Flamepaw's hunt, and how he pushed himself to chase the squirrel to the Thunder Path. She described how she felt witnessing his death, and confessed just how close she'd been to being struck as well. And she spoke about her experience with shock. The only things Moonpaw omitted were the prophecy she'd overhead in Mothsong's den, and any talk of Hazepaw. Though Moonpaw desperately wanted to speak of how Hazepaw had failed her last night. But that would take admitting to sneaking off to see him. Moonpaw wasn't willing to divulge that secret.

After listening to the last of her vent, the queens finally took their turn to speak.

"Oh, love," Brightsky crooned, nuzzling her daughter's cheek. She moved forward, wrapping herself around her kit."You know what happened to Flamepaw wasn't your fault."

"I know...." Moonpaw sighed, leaning into her mother. "But I was there! I feel like I could have saved him...."

"From what it sounds like, you were barely off from becoming crowfood yourself," Silverhawk chimed in, rather crassly. She lifted a back paw to lick between her toes. "Another heartbeat more and you'd be right alongside him in the burial grounds. There was no saving Flamepaw."

"But maybe if he'd heard me calling out for him, he would have stopped?" Moonpaw rationalized.

"There's no use dwelling on the 'what if's,' and 'maybe's,' hon," the Den Mother countered softly. "What's done is done. No cat blames you for not being able to do more."

Mapleshine twitched her whiskers agreeingly. "Besides, you did do something. You went to get help! No cat would have found Flamepaw for quite some time if you hadn't been there to alert the clan of his accident."

But there was another cat around, Moonpaw remembered suddenly. Darkfire had been nearby the Thunder Path. Yet she'd done nothing to stop or save the young apprentice. But why? Moonpaw wondered. Had Darkfire not seen Flamepaw get hit? Moonpaw was unsure. But she didn't want to incriminate Darkfire by mentioning her presence. Even if sessions were meant to be kept confidential. It doesn't matter anyways, Moonpaw told herself. Maybe I'm just looking for someone else to blame.

"Thank you all for listening," Moonpaw mewed with a head dip. "I'm feeling a bit better now. I think...I think I'll go find something to do to keep my mind off of things."

"That sounds like a good idea," Mapleshine agreed. "When you leave, would you mind sending my kits into nursery? It's time they got some rest."

"Sure," Moonpaw agreed with a stretch as she got up. Once more she dipped her head in respect to the queens before making her way out of their den.

By the elder's tree, Moonpaw spotted Mapleshine's kits playing. They were with Sunpaw, who batted at Honeykit and Sleekkit, while Peonykit tried to nab his tail. He laughed, looking so care free. It was as if he hadn't just lost one of his brothers. Maybe Sunpaw was distracting himself with the joy of the kits. Maybe it was his way of coping. Moonpaw hated to ruin his fun. But Mapleshine had requested her kits to come home to her. So, Moonpaw made her way over to the group slowly, only speaking when she became noticed.

"It's Moonpaw!" Honeykit squealed with joy. They rushed over to the apprentice, stretching up to touch noses with her. "Hi!!"

"Hello." Moonpaw purred in greetings. Her gaze moved from the golden kit in front of her to the others. "Its time for you all to go to the nursery. Your mother is waiting."

"But I don't wanna sleep yet!" Sleekkit griped. "Nightpaw said when we're apprentices, we have to be ready early in the morning for the dawn patrol!"

"That's when you're apprentices though," Sunpaw chimed. "You have a few more moons until then. For now, you have to do what your mom tells you. Besides, you've been awake all night. You've gotta be tired by now, right?"

"No!" Sleekkit squeaked, just as a yawn bubbled from his chest. The black and white kit's pelt fluffed with embarrassment. Moonpaw and Sunpaw both chuckled with small mrrows.

"C'mon, let's walk them home," Moonpaw suggested, sweeping her tail around the kits. Sunpaw followed them, matching pace with Moonpaw.

"How are you feeling?" He checked. "I saw you go into the medicine den yesterday."

"I'm alright now. I was in shock, after being so close to the monster and seeing Flamepaw..." she trailed off.

Sunpaw nodded, sadness glowing in his eyes. "I'm relieved that you're ok, at least."

Moonpaw made a small noise, pressing her body against his. Sunpaw purred in response, leaning into her embrace.

"Why don't we go out hunting once the kits are in their den?" She suggested suddenly. "I think we could both benefit from time away from the clan. And it would take our minds off of things for a while."

Sunpaw thought for a few moments as they walked. "That sounds nice. I'd like to spend some time with you," he admitted. The ginger tom seemed to cheer up a little at the prospect of going out together. Moonpaw had to admit she felt excited, too. After saying farewell to Mapleshine's kits, the pair of apprentices took off for the Entrance Tree and out into the forest, where they spent the rest of the morning forgetting their sadness together.

#warrior cats #warrior cats ocs #wcs #wcs ocs #signs of the moon: moon high #signs of the moon #moon high #book 2 #chapt 21 #moon pov #edit to fix a fucking typo #edited to fix a really stupid embarrassing typo #I was having a dyslexic moment while writing this chapter it seems #accidentally spelled prophecy as prophesy #ik it didn't look right. I literally googled it to make sure the spelling was right tho #and google said it was so I was like “oh ok” #but I regoogled it and I was fucking WRONG #prophesy is a correctly spelled word but its not the one I wanted!!!!! #Im so mad #sorry about that really stupid mistake

[catflowerqueen]

Just thought of another kind of funny COTL au. Let's call it the "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" au.

Wherein the "last lamb" is just a wolf in literal sheep's clothing situation.

Like. If the heretics put in charge of finding the Last Lamb accidentally killed all the lambs before they could pick one for that super fancy ceremony at the end, so they just decided to dress up a random wolf in a big wool sweater/lamb costume and try to pass them off as an actual lamb. Probably hoping that they can convince Leshy through scent and that the others won't question it.

Or maybe the wolf was adopted by a lamb couple before all the lambs had to go on the run, and they were killed either as a "lamb sympathizer" or because they ran at the bishops seeking revenge for their parents' deaths. And since they were adopted by lambs, the nature of prophecies and how they can twist and turn and run on technicalities means they count as a lamb culturally, if not biologically.

Or maybe they just had the ironic last name of "Lamb" and was the only member of their generation, with their parents and grandparents having already passed of old age or random tragic accident.

Or they were the last member of a club whose acronym spelled out LAMB.

Narinder has had other vessels before, after all, who don't have any prophecies attached to them as far as we know. He could have just been assuming this was another Ratau situation and just picked a wolf as a vessel to basically kill some time. Having no idea until the end that this was the prophesied "last lamb."

#wolf in sheep's clothing au #cotl #cult of the lamb

[felicismagic18873]

Begin Again

Summary: Harry Potter died laughing .But after he died, well, he lived.

Status: Complete

Harry died.

He died with determination in his eyes and a smile on his lips. He was drunk on power and freedom and love. So much love. Hogwarts cried at the sight.

Harry died.

And he died laughing because before he died, He hadn’t even lived. 

But after he died, well, he lived again.

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Harry Potter was born on July 31st,1980 to James and Lily Potter. If asked, the nurses would say that he was one of the most attentive and quiet babies they had ever seen, the head doctor would exclaim over the bright green eyes, unlike the blue that babies were normally born with. 

His godfather, Sirius Black would grin and claim that he was the baby’s favorite, why wouldn’t he be, after all the baby had smiled for the first time in his arms. He would also swear that it was because Harry was looking at him through Lily would be quick to remind him that babies don’t have a focused vision until they were at least 8 weeks old. 

So, it can be said that Harry Potter was a peculiar child but it didn’t make those around him love him any less, rather it just made him even more endearing to them.

Harry developed far too quickly than other infants, after all, they had Neville Longbottom who was just one day older for comparison. In the darkest of nights, Lily would whisper into the quiet fears about this being a proof of the dreaded prophesy and James would try to comfort her, all the while wishing that it wasn’t true.

Despite all his peculiarities, Harry loved to be cuddled like any other child. Even more so, to be honest. He’d rarely fuss once someone held him in their arms, and putting him down led to sad eyes that were almost unbearable so it wasn’t uncommon to see him in someone’s arms most of the time. Lilly would reluctantly say they were spoiling him but end up being the first one to pick him up whenever they decided to cut down on the holding.

Sirius was the first to notice that for some inexplicable reason, his godson really really hated Wormtail. Little Harry Potter would allow everyone to hold him except Wormtail. Any attempt would lead to crying like it was no one’s business, it was one of the only things Harry fussed over. Wormtail was not allowed near him. 

The one and only time Wormtail had held him in his arms was when Harry was three days old and even then the newborn had vomited all over the nervous man. Sirius had made a joke about Harry smelling his fear and even Peter had let out a small laugh.

James kept saying it was a phase and that sooner or later Harry would become okay with him. They all felt bad about him being left out from Harry-cuddling time, even though Peter didn’t seem too heartbroken over it.

The day they were waiting for came when Harry was nine months old. James had picked the little kid up from where he was laying belly down on the carpet gurgling at Padfoot who was running circles around him. Harry cupped his dad’s face in his hands as he had learned to do recently and very seriously said, “Pada, uh-oh” making James grin. Remus waved at Harry from behind James making the kid giggle.

And when Peter reached out, Harry, for the first time, allowed it. It was quite the historic moment for more reasons than one because as soon as Peters’s arms wrapped around him, Harry looked at him right in the eyes and screamed.

Peters hold slipped on Harry as he panicked. Instinctively James lunged forward to catch Harry, thankfully being able to grab him before he could hit the floor. Harry cried with heaving breaths, his screams getting louder. Lilly came running through the kitchen door when in a blast of accidental magic, all of Peters’ clothes were ripped away. 

Peter stood shocked in his boxers as everyone burst into roaring laughter.

The laughter quickly bled away to a deadly silence.

It would have been a funny moment to recount in years to come if Peter’s outstretched arm didn’t clearly show the mark of his damnation. 

The only sound was that of Harry's sniffing.

Everything was frozen. Peter had his eyes trained on his friends, he knew he should run but it was like his feet couldn’t move.

Lily was unsurprisingly the first one to break out of shock and in a quick undetected movement, she stunned the man her husband was considering making their secret keeper not two nights ago.

That night Lily held her son on her arms as her husband took his once best friend into custody. If she looked down, she would have seen a small content smile on the baby’s face.

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Life went on. Sirius Black stayed the secret keeper of the Potter Family that chose to move away from Britain for the time being, after all, they had a lovely vacation home in France that saw little use.

The war continued on but in a less drastic manner. Days bled into months that turned into years. Before long Harry was five years old. A smart five-year-old but a five-year-old nonetheless. He talked smarter, he laughed softer and he loved deeper than any other five-year-old. 

Lilly often caught him caressing Remus’s newest scar, comforting him even though he surely didn’t know what those scars meant. ‘I love you’ was his favorite sentence. He constantly pulled his parents out of guilt for seemingly abandoning the war. Peter's betrayal had shaken something in them, something that was enough for them to clutch what they had as close as possible and try to save it. 

Try to be good parents instead of good soldiers.

When Harry turned six, he asked to see Diagon Alley as his birthday gift. James and Lilly exchanged a worried glance but after consulting with Sirius, Remus and their close friends the Longbottoms, they decided to go. They decided to stay with Alice and Frank in case someone was monitoring their own house.

They reached the Longbottom mansion on the morning of Neville’s Birthday. It was the morning of Harry’s birthday when the mansion was attacked.

There weren’t screams or cries, no shouted spells or shrieks of pain. Just a hauntingly silent house, they didn’t remember what happened. Stunning spells taking all of them out as the silent but ruthless dark lord made its way into their safe haven. All eyes were closed except emerald green looking too knowingly at the man who had come to kill the chosen, and soft blue scared ones as they hid behind their best friend. 

And as Voldemort cast the dreaded curse, the boys didn’t move. Harry stood in front of Neville as a silent guardian and for the first time in that morning, the silence broke. Haunting screams echoing in the mansion as Voldemort was ripped away from his body.

So, when the adults woke it was to dark robes spread across the ground as Harry cuddled his best friend close.

Voldemort died. Taking with him the fear that had plagued the country for a decade. Lily and James protected their boy, even against Dumbledoor when he wanted to release the name of the ‘Boy-who-lived’, James pulled every string he knew to keep his child’s name out of the public because they knew how ruthless they could be. 

When their six-year-old had nightmares about the dark lord, about horrors he had created. About soul anchors and caves of Inferi, the Potters didn’t hesitate to act upon the information given. A house-elf was questioned, a shack invaded by curse breakers, a room searched by a team, a warrant issued for a manor search and a deal struck with Goblins.

Before Harry arrived at Hogwarts, Voldemort was just another dark lord in the history of those who tried to destroy the wizarding world and failed. The Potter Family was hailed as the saviors of the wizarding world. 

Then began the best years of Harry’s life, he collected good memories like he used to collect pebbles from a pond near their home. The teachers would speak of his absent-minded excellence in years to come. ‘Mischievous but smart’ they would say, and ‘kind’ oh so very kind. 

And he drew, he drew of magic mirrors and snakes, of werewolves and dragons, of toads in pink and potions in gold, he drew of death, of acceptance, of a battle. He drew phoenixes and rebirth. 

So, when he decided to write his own illustrated books, straight outta Hogwarts no one was surprised. 

He wrote about a boy and a prophecy, he wrote about sacrifice and a happy ending. People were intrigued, claimed he was a seer, he knew what could have been but wasn’t. It made people admire the Potters even more. 

But throughout it all, the thing that didn’t change was Harry’s love. Love for his closest friends, understanding in a way that made Hermione blush and Neville grin.

(‘It’s almost like you already knew us before you came to Hogwarts,” Ron absently commented once while reading over the character that was based on him and like always Harry would give a secretive smile and change the subject.)

And Love for his family that withstood anything the world threw at him. A love that made him stand in front of the wizarding world and declare that he was ashamed of their treatment of magical creatures. A love that made him accept his position in the wizengamot to better the laws against muggle-borns. A love that made sure he came home for dinner, every night no matter what. And a love that made life a bit more easier. 

So, when he died at the age of 304 surrounded by his children, grandchildren, and godchildren.  There was one thing that Harry James Potter could say with absolute certainty. 

He had lived.

-fin-

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[oveliagirlhaditright]

Wish there were some Sokai pregnancy fics or new parents fics out there. I can't seem to find any on fanfictionnet or ao3. Do you have any recs?

Here’s one from AO3, that’s really good and probably right up your alley: https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/20639528.

And an old, but classic one from fanfiction (and from the former queen of SoKai, sunflowerb): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5753933/1/Letters-from-Home (edit: although, note that Kairi miscarries in this one:().Edit: Oh! Two more from sunflowerb. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4153395/1/Glass-Half-Full (and then this one https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4131077/1/ON-SWiTCH is its companion piece) and this one: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4939579/1/Plus.

Another one from fanfiction (from a semi-famous author, back in the day) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5660464/1/Fear, but be warned that it has a tragic ending: it’s highly implied that Kairi dies after giving birth to the baby:( But I still enjoyed reading it, years ago. The parts before that happened, mainly. Haha. 

...What else? Uhh, there’s this one. 

Oh. Here’s a really good old one, by Gray-Rain-Skies, who many of us oldies in the fandom loved back in the day. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3401903/1/Fluttering-Capes-and-Secret-Identities

And this author is continuing their one SoKai lemon into this fic https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13408514/1/Island-Life, where Kairi’s pregnant and she and Sora have to deal with being parents. But it happens when they’re still teenagers/still in high school, so it has all of that kind of drama that you’d imagine.

And there used to be another good one--where Sora gets Kairi pregnant before he leaves on another adventure, and comes back years later to a daughter and Kairi is not happy with him at first (which is how she should be acting in that situation, tbh)--but I think it got deleted...

My fanfiction friend, Shadowjc32, once wrote a story about Sora and Kairi’s daughter, but I think he’s deleted a lot of his work:(

But I’m sure if you search things on Google, or perhaps even on fanfiction, “Sora and Kairi’s daughter (or “son” or “kid” instead, you might find stuff.

And while Sora and Kairi don’t have kids in this one yet https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/20297497/chapters/48117517 yet... I feel there’s a lot of foreshadowing that Kairi’s going to get pregnant. But if nothing else, Sora and Kairi talk about wanting to eventually start a family with each other and stuff. And this is just a really interesting story overall (Sora absorbs the darkness in the Black Box to save the world and Kairi--so it’s sort of a dark!Sora fic, but also not really. He’s still very Sora--and after that became the king of Kingdom Hearts, and Kairi has married him and become his queen to try and return him to the light)... but just note that there’s a lot of sexual content in it, if you’re not into that kind of thing: but the author has warnings about it on each chapter that has it, so you may be able to avoid it that way... or at least know what you’re getting into.

And while I fell behind on Shire Folk’s pretty famous “The Annals of Darkness” series https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3425579/1/The-Annals-of-Darkness-The-Beginning long ago (I read more of the original first fic than its rewrite here. And I don’t know if I’ve read much of any of the sequels), it’s prophesied in it that Sora and Kairi or Roxas and Naminé’s kid will eventually save the world for good. Whether they’ve had that kid yet... or are close to it, or ever will (maybe the prophecy was wrong or a lie), I don’t know. But they may have a kid in this... at least eventually. -shrugs-

Oh! And ParadiseAvenger writes some of that stuff. Like, here’s a SoKai lemon she wrote where Kairi’s pregnant. https://archiveofourown.org/works/693738/chapters/1275721?view_adult=true And then she also has written other stories where Kairi is unfortunately raped (ugh. I am so done with that trope in this fandom. But whatever.), and then Sora steps up and treats the kid like his own. Here are links to two of those that I can think of https://archiveofourown.org/works/709324/chapters/1310746, https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032787/chapters/2058058... though I think they actually end weirdly or tragically (usually she has happy endings). But just note that she writes some really dark and messed up things (I say with love, as I’m acquaintances with this writer), to try and draw light to some of these tragic things that happen to people:( I should also mention that a lot of her stuff is AU. Edit: And since my OCd won’t leave me alone if I don’t post this https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/18773989/chapters/44539129, ParadiseAvenger also wrote that one... where Kairi is forced into a brothel(:() and her captors make her unable to have kids (using dark magic); and once Sora and Riku save her, Sora’s sad for Kairi that they took that choice away from her. But at the end, her pure Light gets rid of the spell and she’s able to have kids again. The fic ends before she does or anything, but this story at least has them talking about kids (if you’re that desperate for SoKai + kids stuff), amidst all the bad things these poor babies go through.

This is all I can think of off the top of my head right now. But I know a lot of the SoKai fandom has talked about wanting to write domestic SoKai with kids lately, so maybe even more will pop up soon:)

I know I’ve had a headcanon about a SoKai daughter for, like, eighteen years now. Maybe I should finally write it...

Edit 2: And this one by PhoenixDowner https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/17243366/chapters/40550033 at least has them thinking that they want kids eventually, but not quite yet. It’s a sequel to her “Dear Sora/Those Who Dreamed” series, that she wrote before KHIII--trying to predict it--that’s now ended up an AU. You can read this whole oneshot without reading all of that. All you really need to know is that Sora died instead of Kairi (and Kairi and some of the others were in the X-Blade that Master Xehanort used to kill him)... before Sora received Kingdom Hearts’ power, became a god and used his powers to make the world better, before deciding to become human again to be with Kairi in particular.

Edit 3: And it looks like Xion92 is having SoKai kids stuff in their fic “The Red-Headed Prince”? Here’s a pic they drew about it at least. https://xion92.tumblr.com/post/616398709375303680/another-drawing-from-my-fan-fiction-the. And I know chachacharlieco from here draws a lot of SoKai family stuff for their Yakuza AU in particular. Here’s another art with them as a baby: https://www.deviantart.com/tenchufreak/art/commission-SoKai-Family-205787927

Edit 4: And I just found this fic last night. https://www.tumblr.com/search/sokai/recent/blog/leather-and-lace-lookbook

Edit 5: And this one has no kids or no kid talk, tbh, but it’s some domestic royal SoKai that you might like. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3423111/1/Just-Like-That

Edit 6: And this text post https://oveliagirlhaditright.tumblr.com/post/616251158947823616#notes.

And someone on here wrote Stella as SoKai’s daughter and Yozora as Riku and Nami’s, etc. But I don’t know where it is.

Edit 7: And there’s another one that I wish I had the link to still... so if anyone reading this knows it, let me know. It’s SoRiKai, though (but actually balanced well on all three sides, instead of being the SoRiku show with Kairi on the side). Where our heroes have finally defeated all the Big Bads and now they just have to politic because Kairi’s the princess of Radiant Garden and has to rule their now. And the people hate their polyamorous relationship... and that Kairi was with Riku at all, when they heard what he did in KHI. The people threatened to literally tear them apart... and SRK went to Mickey for help, but he said he couldn’t help them since his hands were tied and he had to play the game. This made Sora go crazy, and he killed Mickey (as ridiculous as it sounds--and it was--the fic was written so well, I could suspend my disbelief) and was attacking the town people... and Riku and Kairi had to use their combined powers to lock him away. But during this time, Kairi had become pregnant with Sora’s child... and Sora remained in stasis for years, and Riku and Kairi had to rule as King and Queen (who now the people loved for protecting them from the “evil Sora”) and raise Sora and Kairi’s son together... But I think Kairi eventually dies in her grief. And years later, when SoKai’s kid is a teen with his own Keyblade, he wanders his castle and finds the legendary Keyblade wielder in the basement and accidentally releases him. Sora doesn’t know he’s his son at first, and that that much time has passed, but (even though he wishes they had just killed him), I think he finds peace in knowing he can teach his son now, be with Riku (perhaps), and probably live on and do what Kairi would have wanted him to. The story actually starts out with the prince finding the Keyblade wielder (that you don’t know is Sora at first), and goes back and forth between present and past until you get it all figured out... and it ends in present, of course. It’s actually written really well.

Edit: And I just wrote one where Kairi gets pregnant. https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/24226009

[brownstonearmy]

12-12-2020: Cleansed in the Water (Pt 3)

August 17th (Monday Morning)

On a still morning several days after the destructive flooding of Brownstone, the inscrutable outhouse has burrowed into the mud east of town while our assembled party of adventurers is awaiting their work orders for the day. The stillness, however, is soon interrupted by the sounds of a struggle approaching the town square. Four vigilante militiamen have tied up an elderly woman and an undead skeleton and are dragging the pair to the center of town to face justice.

Q, who goes by Sparkle today, approaches the leader of the vigilantes to see what's going on. The vigilante has captured Granny Agatha and her skeletal manservant, Tandy, as he believes she used her witchcraft to flood the town and avoid her trial that was scheduled for today. The vigilantes have no need for the involvement of Sparkle and their cohorts, believing them to be hoarding money to keep the town from recovering. Sparkle is soon joined by Lucky and Spleenifer, all of whom poke considerable holes in the the vigilante leader's witchcraft conspiracy theories.

As far as Lucky is concerned, the only thing Granny Agatha flooded the town with was good cookies. But these negotiations go south, and Lucky eventually deploys a casting of Suggestion to force the group of vigilantes to release Granny Agatha and Tandy to go make some of those delicious cookies. This is a phenomenally good idea in the vigilantes' minds, and Granny Agatha and Tandy are released to do some emergency baking!  

Granny Agatha cautiously backs away from her captors and beckons to the party for a quick word. She thanks the party for her rescue, but warns them of a particularly troublesome vision she has recently had:

There are two dragons that will visit Brownstone and bring death and decay to the city. One dragon is angry and impulsive, while the other dragon is corrupted and pestilent. Whether the dragons are metaphors or literal omens of things to come is unknown, but our party of adventurers is prophesied to be involved somehow. Fate has not yet decided their role. She gives them a scroll of Greater Restoration that she believes will prove useful at some point in the prophecy, before apologizing for the vague nature of prophecy and hobbling off to complete her cookie baking.

Spleenifer's hand begins to exude a viscous brownish-black liquid that seems to whisper as it drips down and slithers into the stagnant mud of the ground. She tries to decipher the language of the whispers, but it's not one she's familiar with. It doesn't seem to be any language that is spoken in this realm, though. Just as soon as it began, the trickle of liquid stops and leaves behind no trace.

Mayor Dunwall happens to amble by, taking Spleenifer aside to talk about rebuilding the city after the flood. He suggests looking into the wondrous world of renewable dung-based construction, as Mayor Dunwall has already renovated his manor with a large volume of poop.

Although Spleenifer sees no problem with such a clearly pragmatic solution, Sparkle disagrees about the level of enthusiasm the populace will have regarding new architectural guidelines. Perhaps people should be given the option of rebuilding with conventional means before barreling toward booty-based building blocks.

Loud clanking sounds from a few streets over attract the attention of the party. It sounds like the heavily-armored footfalls of some sort of giant creature drawing near. Moments later, a big porcelain construct piloted by Cornelius, the Gnomish mad scientist, rounds the corner.

Cornelius's invention looks vaguely humanoid, though its head consists of a basin the party has seen before: it's the very basin that Cornelius tried to buy at auction some weeks back before the party repatriated the basin back to its home at the Order of the Immaculate Shadow. Water spews forth from the basin as Cornelius attempts to power wash the poop off the streets and houses.

Mayor Dunwall is enraged at Cornelius's destruction of such an abundant building material and gets into a shouting match with Cornelius and his construct. Things get more heated by the second, and Spleenifer tries to interject some reason into the situation before things turn violent. Mayor Dunwall storms off in a huff, ending the debate... for now.

Lucky suggests that Spleenifer ask Cornelius about the weird liquid seeping from her hand earlier, and Cornelius is quick to ask if Spleenifer has been in contact with any cults lately. Lucky mentions that the Order of the Immaculate Shadow has a lot of cult-like qualities, and that the party has had some dealings with them in the past. Cornelius gets cagey until he's sure that the party won't snitch on him, eventually telling them that the basin topping his latest creation was originally an OIS artifact that had gotten displaced by the flood. And since he paid good money for it at auction, it's his.

Cornelius is using the basin to purify and wash the town to prevent pestilence from overtaking the city, and he calls his newest creation MAXIMUM BIDET. Yes, the name is written in all caps. It's a branding thing.

Anyway, as soon as Cornelius mentions a pestilence, Sparkle remarks that this must be the sick dragon part of Granny Agatha's vision. The party weigh their options and try to convince Cornelius to part with the basin in exchange for a better one from the Order of the Immaculate Shadow's compound.

Cornelius readily agrees to fund an "expedition" to the OIS compound and acquire a new and improved basin before things get bad. Time is of the essence for Cornelius, so he throws some serious coin around to make it happen. He tosses the party a back of 900 platinum pieces, which another 900 platinum upon completion of the mission.

The party convinces the Cornelius to disconnect MAXIMUM BIDET's basin, but Cornelius accidentally pulls the wrong cable and says the one word no one wants a gnome to say: "Oops."

MAXIMUM BIDET into a murderous rage as its cables get uncomfortably prodded. Sparkle tries to put the construct to sleep, but the creature is too powerful. Lucky casts her new spell, Xear's Chaotic Command, and chooses Gear from her list of options. She summons a five foot cube of paper towels to appear in the basin and clogs MAXIMUM BIDET's deadly water spray. Spleenifer attacks with an array of smacks and smites, but MAXIMUM BIDET retaliates with a mean slam of its own.

Cornelius gets flung into the business end of a wall, croaking out "Save the basin!" before falling unconscious. Sparkle reckons that a particular hose on the neck is probably the best way to disconnect the basin, and relays their observation to the rest of the party before lunging to detach the hose.

MAXIMUM BIDET's arms contract and crush Sparkle. Lucky casts Thunderstep and yanks Sparkle out of MAXIMUM BIDET's grasp. Spleenifer strikes again, and while she and MAXIMUM BIDET are locked in combat, Sparkle makes a stunning acrobatic check to disconnect the hose. They take a flying leap and yank things loose with a primal scream.

Our battered and bruised party eventually meets up with the Acting Keeper of the Cradle of the Order of the Immaculate Shadow, which is a really long title but the title had to get a little longer after the previous Keeper of the Cradle got eaten by the inscrutable outhouse. The party trades the basin previously used by MAXIMUM BIDET to the Acting Keeper in exchange for a an exquisitely crafted (but non-magical) basin to give to Cornelius. Lucky plans to soak the new basin in some of the excess cursed magic item sludge that Miss Mavis keeps at the shop in hopes of giving the basin the appearance of robust enchantment. If someone's paying 1800 platinum for the basin, you may as well make it look the part, right?

After the Order's magic basin is once again secured, the Acting Keeper starts doling out troubling information like there's a liquidation sale on prophecies. In not quite as many words, here are the highlights of that conversation:

The Ring of Norozogaan has been used to signal a powerful acolyte exists who wishes to serve the demon lord.

A 30-foot tall wall of infernal ice from Cania in the Nine Hells surrounds Stout Manor, indicating devil involvement in addition to the demons.

Norozogaan requires its acolytes to complete a deadly task to prove their loyalty, and the process starts an irreversible change in the prospective acolyte.

Brynnan is the most likely candidate to become an acolyte, and both he and any traces of Norozogaan's essence must be destroyed.

If Lennipur's Basin (the basin previously stolen and used by MAXIMUM BIDET) is destroyed, Norozogaan will gain enough power to prevail in the fight against Lennipur and bring an eternal age of decay into the world.

The adventure concludes for the evening as the party comes to grip with the truth bombs from the Acting Keeper. Destroy the supreme source of evil or else the entire world will fall into ruin. No pressure, right?

Stay tuned next time for more!

#adventure log #shits and giggles #Dungeons and Dragons #fishdavidson #maximum bidet #prophecy #cornelius

[teamtormundsbeard]

Sociology Build

While Olaenys Isle doesn’t have any “institutions” or social groups because there are only 7 people on the island, they do have values and norms that are important to all the inhabitants.

The first being Privacy/Secrecy.

The Seven have chosen to live on a secluded island where no one can find them, accidentally or purposefully.  Each understand the importance of their isolation and would never reveal their physical location to a human through their wine or by any other means.  The gods also value each other’s privacy as demonstrated by the spells they cast on their wings of the temple to prevent anyone from entering.  They have distinct ideas of group activities and responsibilities and individual freedom and if anyone were found in violation of another’s privacy, they would be punished by the group (probably have their own privacy removed).  Not only do the gods keep the physical existence of Olaenys Isle a secret from the rest of Planetos, but they also keep secrets from each other.  The most secretive of the Seven being the Crone and the Stranger.

Another important value to the gods is Protection.

“The Warrior stands before the foe, protecting us where e'er we go. With sword and shield and spear and bow, he guards the little children.”

—The Song of the Seven

The gods protect themselves against their enemies as well as the people who pray to them.  The Warrior is the most obvious example of this because his job is to protect Olaenys Isle from danger using his armor and sword.  He is paid in grapeseeds because the other gods value his work.  The shrouding fog and diverting currents also protect the island from discovery.  All of the gods are quite narcissistic and prefer to use their powers to protect or help the humans who are faithful to them.  A large portion of their day is spent listening to the prayers of the faithful and responding to them.

The next important value of the gods is Cooperation/Impartiality.

The gods have only been around for 6,000 years because they have prioritized cooperation.  Otherwise, they would be long gone.  Each of the Seven have extremely different personalities and skills which could lead to conflict or prosperity depending on their adherence to their shared values.  If someone refuses to cooperate or has violated a value or norm of the group, they will be subjected to the impartial judgement of the Father.  With only 7 individuals, the truth is more important than alliances.  Any action that jeopardizes the safety of the group is dealt with swiftly and everyone recognizes the Father’s judgement to be impartial and final.

Finally, the most important value of all is that the Prophesies must be fulfilled.

The main goal of the gods is to make sure that the prophesies of the Crone come true.  They may have different ideas of what that means or how to achieve it, but at the core, they know the Crone is never wrong.  Some of these prophesies have been shared with the humans and others are kept secret by the Crone herself.  The gods are often very involved in their own schemes to fulfill the prophesies and this leads to the most conflict on the island.  For example, the Maiden believes that Daenerys is Azor Ahai, so she uses her powers to manipulate her love life.  However, the Stranger believes that Jon Snow is the Prince who was promised, so he resurrected him from the dead.  And anyone could use their grapeseeds to tip the Mother’s scale to winter if they think now is the time to make the prophecy of the long night happen.

All of the gods may align more heavily to one value or another depending on their personal motivations or skills, but everyone must adhere to these group values or the Seven will self-destruct.

[revpauljbern]

What’s In Store for America in 2019? The Answers Can Be Found in the Scriptures

Is The USA In Biblical End Times Prophecy?

by Minister Paul J. Bern

For a website view, click here :-)

By now you all know or have heard and read the various arguments about America's role in Biblical prophecy, both pro and con. There are those who say the US isn't in the Bible, and many others who insist that it is. These folks have included everyone from master theologians to televangelists on the Christian TV channels to some pretty wild conspiracy theories posted on You-tube and other websites. I see no point in debating this or in blogging about it based on what has already been disseminated. Instead, as I always do, I'm going straight to the Word of God as my reference point. This is not about dogma, nor denominational exclusivity, nor is it about any particular version of the Bible being more “correct” than any or all others. This is based on a lot of research, study, prayer and meditation based on the Word of God, which surpasses the religious dogma of humankind.

So what will our starting point be? How can we make sense out of end times prophesy considering all the angles and points of view being discussed both within and outside of the Church? One good starting point is found in the book of Isaiah, chapter ten, verses 1-4, as it is written: “Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar? To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches? Nothing will remain but to cringe among the captives or fall among the slain.”

Who is it that makes unjust laws? Was this intended for groups of people, or races, or entire nations? First of all, discriminatory laws are based on all of the above. Laws that discriminate against people due to their race, nationality, creed, gender, age, sexual orientation or religion – and especially for class and financial status – have no place in any 21st century society. Here in the US, we have or have had institutionalized discrimination based on all of the above for as long as I can remember, and I was born in the 1950's. During WWII, America forcibly incarcerated several hundred thousand Japanese Americans based solely on their race and ancestry. Then there were the “Jim Crow” laws that openly oppressed all black Americans up until the 1960's. As you know, there are significant vestiges of this vitriol against our black brothers and sisters that continue to be active even as I write this. And let's not forget the genocide of Native Americans that has been ongoing for the last two hundred years.

Another form of discrimination still in force in modern times has been the enormously wasteful 'war on drugs', where punishment replaces treatment with predictable results. If you smoke or otherwise ingest marijuana, even for medical reasons, you're considered a criminal, but if you overdose on pills that you purchased legally, it's usually ruled to be accidental and it gets swept under the rug. As of 2017, 56% of all incarcerated inmates at the state and federal levels are locked up for nonviolent drug offenses – mainly simple possession cases – with well over 75% of these hapless individuals being people of color. Now there's a classic case of discrimination based on race, ethnicity and class. Last but not least, is the ticking time bomb of economic inequality. When you have a situation where 99% of any given country's wealth (not just America – but any country) is in the hands of 1% of the population, you have a recipe for class warfare and civil unrest throughout that country. All of these things are the result of unjust laws and oppressive decrees whose source is centralized government. And it is for this reason, among a few others, that I believe America is being judged, or is about to be judged, by God.

“What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar?” What was Isaiah talking about? “Days of disaster” from “afar” sounds a lot like a nuclear first strike. This has nothing to do with domestic terrorism. This is worded to look like anything from terrorism outside the US directed inward to a full amphibious military assault on American soil by way of external invasion. But, a nuclear first strike would be much quicker. Before moving on, allow me to share another related quote from the prophet Isaiah: “Come near, you nations, and listen; pay attention, you peoples! Let the earth hear, and all that is within it, the world, and all the nations that come out of it! The Lord is angry with all nations; his wrath is upon all their armies. He will totally destroy them, he will give them over to slaughter. Their slain will be thrown out, their dead bodies will send up a stench; the mountains will be soaked with their blood (Isaiah chapter 34, verses 1-3).

How does this read to you? I see the total obliteration of all the armies of the world, apparently all at once, and the US will not escape unharmed. God is sick and tired of all the countless centuries of fighting among humankind. God is fed up to here with our militarism. He has had more than enough of those who are murderers, robbers, kidnappers, extortionists and rapists within and around the military. God is enraged with the world's armies who kill and pillage their neighbors and other countries due to extreme covetousness on the part of all the governments and multinational corporations, who forcefully put their profit margins ahead of the people they claim to be serving. So, God is going to wipe out all the world's armed services in one swift stroke, and what a horrible day that will be! God wins, and everybody who stands against him will lose, beginning with those for whom fighting has become a way to make a living.

Now that I have shared some quotes from the Old Testament, I will move on to the New Testament. As I do this, let me mention some related facts with regard to Bible prophecy. There are numerous examples of prophecy throughout the Bible that have to do with the end times that we are currently living in. In the overwhelming majority of these instances, these prophecies have to do with the fate of the nation of Israel, God's holy land. Much has been said about the fact that the United States doesn't seem to fit into Biblical prophecy, and that it is barely mentioned at all. By and large this is very true. But there is one place in the Bible where America is not only mentioned, but her fate is spelled out in stark and frightening detail. For that, we need to go all the way to the last book in the Bible, the book of Revelation, where we will focus on chapter 18.

“Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great! She has become a home for demons, and a haunt for every evil spirit, a haunt for every unclean and detestable bird. For all the nations have drunk the maddening wine of her adulteries. The kings of the earth have committed adultery with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries. Then I heard another voice from heaven say, 'Come out of her, O my people, so that you may not share in her sins, so that you will not receive her plagues; for her sins are piled up to heaven, and God has remembered her crimes. Give back to her as she has given; pay her back double for what she has done. Mix her a double portion  of her own cup. Give her as much torture and grief as the glory and luxury she gave herself. In her heart she boasts, 'I sit as a queen, I am not a widow, and I will never mourn'. Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her: death, mourning and famine. She will be consumed by fire, for mighty is the Lord God who judges her. When the kings of the earth who committed adultery with her and shared her luxury see the smoke of her burning, they will weep and mourn over her. Terrified at her torment, they will stand far off and cry, 'Woe! Woe, O great city, O Babylon, city of power! In one hour your doom has come!'” (Revelation 18, verses 2-10)

What or who is Babylon the Great? Is this a person, a place or a thing? It has been taught in the past that this is a reference to the Babylonian Empire that conquered the nation of Israel and carried her into captivity around 880 BC. There is a famous quote from Iraq's now-deceased dictator Saddam Hussein that he was going to resurrect this ancient empire and make it into a world power as in days of old. As you all know, this didn't quite work out as Saddam Hussein had planned. So we can discount that possibility by process of elimination. Others have taught erroneously that this was symbolism for the Greek Empire of Alexander the Great, or for the Roman Empire, Napoleon's France or Hitler's Germany. But when we compare these possibilities to the ancient prophets such as Jeremiah, Daniel, Zachariah, or Joel – to name a few – Babylon the Great as foretold in Revelation simply doesn't match up with those passages of Scripture. So we conclude that this prophecy has yet to be fulfilled. Since Babylon the Great is a world power based on what we have just read, that leaves only one possibility. What global powerhouse, both financial and military, fits this description? None other than the USA.

Let's examine this more closely, starting with verse two. “Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great! She has become a home for demons, and a haunt for every evil spirit ... For all the nations have drunk the maddening wine of her adulteries.” Has the US become a home for demons and evil spirits? We only need to look at today's news for the answer. There are mass shootings in our nation's schools, at military bases, and out in the streets. Mayhem is running rampant and it continues to get ever worse. America is devolving into a battlefield populated an assortment of psychotic murderers, armed robbers, rapists and thieves. People of all ages are being kidnapped, and people disappear every time you turn around, especially children. Sometimes their bodies are found, and more and more frequently their internal organs have been “harvested”. Other times, and especially concerning our children, people disappear never to be seen or heard from again. This is usually because they are either kidnapped and sold on the black market by human traffickers, or because they are being sacrificed in satanic rituals that are nothing short of revolting.

So we can now see clearly that the phrase “home for demons” is very accurate indeed. What is “the maddening wine of her adulteries”? This is far more than mere substance abuse or addiction, although those things do play a part. I think this represents all the espionage, cloak-and-dagger “black ops”, and political and military maneuvering behind the scenes both at home and abroad. From the Kennedy assassinations to Rev. Dr. King's brutal murder, from the wars in Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan to incidents of government-initiated domestic terrorism such as Waco Texas, Ruby Ridge Idaho, Oklahoma City and the 9/11 attacks, America's “leadership” has been behind them all to one extent or another (they're called “false flag operations”). So as we translate this into 21st century English, the US government has been fooling around behind the scenes for decades as they engage in espionage in nearly every country in the world, playing both sides of the fence, pitting one opponent against another for the profit of the US military-industrial complex. Most recently, technology has allowed remote enforcement of America's military-industrial paradigm by drone warfare.

“Come out of her, O my people, so that you may not share in her sins, so that you will not receive her plagues; for her sins are piled up to heaven, and God has remembered her crimes.” There are at least two different explanations I have read about for this verse. The benign explanation comes from the apostle John (see 1st John 2, verses 15-17) that says we are to be “in the world but not of it”. There are still others, some Christian and some not, who have taken this passage literally by obtaining a passport and leaving the US for countries where the cost of living is lower (which is nearly everywhere else). Also, the “crimes” mentioned in this passage are everything I described above, and I regret to inform you that my country, the United States, is guilty of all the above, and there are times when I feel ashamed about America. Not its people – just those in charge. Although I have a passport, I haven't left yet, and I'm trying to hang on at least for the short term.

“Mix her a double portion of her own cup. Give her as much torture and grief as the glory and luxury she gave herself.” Evidently the US will get all its bad karma thrown back in her face, meaning that things within US borders will become as bad or worse than most banana republics. Pandemonium will reign supreme across America's landscape, and only those who put their complete trust in God and his only Son will escape unharmed. “Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her.… She will be consumed by fire, for mighty is the Lord God who judges her. When the kings of the earth who committed adultery with her and shared her luxury see the smoke of her burning, they will weep and mourn over her. Terrified at her torment, they will stand far off and cry, 'Woe! Woe, O great city, O Babylon, city of power! In one hour your doom has come!'” What does it mean when it mentions “her plagues”? Some say it will be epidemics of various kinds, and I believe this is at least partially true, but I also think there is more to it than that.

It is a little-known fact that America has the world's largest stockpile of germ warfare weaponry. The ongoing civil war in Syria is just one example. By now nearly everyone has seen the international news broadcasts about the Syrian people who were killed by chemical weapons of mass destruction. If you believe everything you see on the news – and who does anymore – you were force-fed false information that it was the Syrian government who launched these weapons after their own people. Where did these Syrian rebels get these weapons? They most definitely didn't have the resources to go out and buy such awful weapons. That leaves only one other possibility – none other than the United States. Our own country supplied the rebels for these WMD's, and they had the CIA's fingerprints all over them. Now that's what I mean by a false flag attack! But, it's the last verse of this passage of Scripture that sends chills up and down my back: “In one hour your doom has come!'” This is not a typo, people. When America falls, it will happen quite literally in one hour, like turning off an electric light in slow motion. There is more to back this up further down in this same chapter of Revelation, so let's begin to conclude this Spiritual fact-finding mission by taking up where we left off at verse 11.

“The merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her because no one buys their cargoes anymore – cargoes of gold, silver, precious stones and pearls; fine linen, purple, silk and scarlet cloth; every sort of citron wood, and articles of every kind, costly wood, bronze, iron and marble; cargoes of cinnamon, spice, of incense, myrrh and frankincense, of wine and olive oil, of fine flour and wheat; cattle and sheep, horses and carriages; and the bodies and souls of men .… Every sea captain, and all who travel by ship, the sailors, and all those who earn their living from the sea, will stand far off. When they see the smoke of her burning, they will exclaim, 'Was there ever a city like this great city?' They will throw dust on their heads, and with weeping and mourning cry out: 'Woe! Woe, O great city, where all who had ships on the sea became rich through her wealth! In one hour she has been brought to ruin! Rejoice over her, O heaven! Rejoice, saints and apostles and prophets! God has judged her for the way she treated you'. Then a mighty angel picked up a boulder the size of a large millstone and threw it into the sea, and said: 'With such violence the great city of Babylon will be thrown down, never to be found again. The music of harpists and musicians, flute players and trumpeters, will never be heard in you again. No workman of any trade will ever be found in you again. The sound of a millstone will never be heard in you again. The light of a lamp will never shine in you again. The voice of bridegroom and bride will never be heard in you again. Your merchants were the world's great men. By your magic spell all the nations were led astray. In her was found the blood of prophets and of the saints, and of all who had been killed on the earth.'” (Rev. 8, verses 11-13, verses 17-24)

“The merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her because no one buys their cargoes anymore... “. I could end this commentary right here and simply say that this is a prediction and a prophecy regarding America for the near future, but that's only part of the explanation. As I write this, the US still has the world's largest economy, with Red China's economy running a close second place. But China's economy will not overtake that of the US until the US dollar will no longer be able to maintain its position as the world's reserve currency. When that inevitability finally occurs, the dollar will either have to be devalued or it will suffer a total crash – the likes of which no one has ever seen before (it will make the Great Depression of the 1930's look like child's play). This is the first two and the most palatable options for what will happen to the US economy in the next decade or so.

But what if it's not just the US that goes belly up? That leads me to the second and more likely conclusion, which would be a total collapse of Capitalism as an economic system. This would make the above passage of Scripture from Revelation something to be taken symbolically rather than literally. “Every sea captain, and all who travel by ship, the sailors, and all those who earn their living from the sea, will stand far off. When they see the smoke of her burning, they will exclaim, 'Was there ever a city like this great city?' They will throw dust on their heads, and with weeping and mourning cry out: 'Woe! Woe, O great city, where all who had ships on the sea became rich through her wealth! In one hour she has been brought to ruin! Rejoice over her, O heaven! Rejoice, saints and apostles and prophets! God has judged her for the way she treated you'.”

“The great city” could very well be New York City or Washington, DC. Then again, this could be symbolism for an entire economic system and not just one country – a truly terrifying possibility. Either scenario would create unimaginable chaos across our land as well as the other capitalist countries in Western Europe and Asia, and let's not forget Australia and Hong Kong while we're at it. But check out what the apostle John wrote further down: “Woe, O great city, where all who had ships on the sea became rich through her wealth! In one hour she has been brought to ruin!” There it is again; the prediction that the US and capitalism will not only fall, but that they will never rise again, and it will all be over with in just one hour. Of course, there will be some who dismiss this commentary straight out of hand, and they might say, “Who does Rev. Bern think he is? Why, he never even graduated from a seminary!” I will only respond that I have taken this straight out of the Scriptures. My word may be refutable to some, but the Word of God is irrefutable! Be careful that these dire predictions don't fall from out of the blue and hit you on top of your heads. There is no substitute for God's Word, which is truth, so there can be no argument about that unless one rejects the very possibility of God's existence. That is a separate argument that I have taken up previously.

“Rejoice over her, O heaven! Rejoice, saints and apostles and prophets! God has judged her for the way she treated you'.” This implies that there will be religious persecution of Christians in North America and western Europe, something that has previously never happened. This is not a drill, people, this is the real deal. There is one last prophecy that needs to be mentioned here, and it reads as follows: “Then a mighty angel picked up a boulder the size of a large millstone and threw it into the sea, and said: 'With such violence the great city of Babylon will be thrown down, never to be found again.” This can only be explained as a meteor or comet strike upon the earth, most probably in either the Atlantic or Pacific oceans. There is nothing else that fits this description. So, insofar as this is possible, it must be taken very seriously. Otherwise, like Babylon the Great, America will be obliterated. So there you have it: the United States is in Bible prophecy all right, but not in the way the majority of churches and denominations are anticipating – nowhere near, in fact. The time for all of us to get ready for these events – and they will occur, it's only a question of when – is today, while we still have time and while we still have a choice. So until next week at this same time, keep a close eye on current events globally, particularly in the US and the Middle East, keep on studying your Bible, and continue to look upward for any sign of our Lord's return. Shalom!

#Progressive Christian #end times prophecy #Bible teaching #the USA #the Book of Revelation #the last days

[macbetha]

What are some of your favorite books of all time?

sorry this took a bit to answer, i took this question prettyseriously because books mean so much to me haha. so, i made a list! thesearen’t all specifically books; there are plays and poems as well, just becausethose have a tendency to have as much of an impact me as novels and such.

D R A M A / P L A Y S

Tennessee Williams: A Streetcar Named Desire- On a streetcar named Desire, Blanche DuBois travels from the railroad station in New Orleans to a street named Elysian Fields, where her sister, Stella, pregnant and married to Stanley Kowalski, lives in a run-down apartment building in the old French Quarter. Having lost her husband, parents, teaching position, and old family home—Belle Reve in Laurel, Mississippi—Blanche has nowhere to turn but to her one remaining close relative.

William Shakespeare: Macbeth- Macbeth is thought to have been first performed in 1606. It dramatizes the damaging physical and psychological effects of political ambition on those who seek power for its own sake.

G R E E K  D R A M A ( C OM E D Y  &  T R A G E D Y ) 

Aristophanes: Lysistrata- Originally performed in classical Athens in 411 BCE, it is a comic account of a woman’s extraordinary mission to end the Peloponnesian War by denying all the men sex - and it works. 

Sophocles: Oedipus Rex- Oedipus was a mythical Greek king of Thebes. A tragic hero in Greek mythology, Oedipus accidentally fulfilled a prophecy that he would end up killing his father and marrying his mother, thereby bringing disaster to his city and family.

C L A S S I C S : G R E E K L I T E R A T U R E

Homer: The Iliad- Set during the Trojan War, the ten-year siege of the city of Troy by a coalition of Greek states. The Iliad mentions or alludes to many of the Greek legends about the siege; the earlier events, such as the gathering of warriors for the siege, the cause of the war, and related concerns tend to appear near the beginning. Then the epic narrative takes up events prophesied for the future, such as Achilles’ looming death and the sack of Troy, although the narrative ends before these events take place. However, as these events are prefigured and alluded to more and more vividly, when it reaches an end the poem has told a more or less complete tale of the Trojan War.

The Poetry of Sappho- She was one of the few women mentioned in ancient Greek literature and doesnot frequent the topics of other writers of her time, such as politics and war. She writes about compassion and love; her work is really beautiful andheartfelt. 

C L A S S I C S : E N G L I S H/ A M E R I C A N  L I T E R A T U R E

Jane Austen: Pride and Prejudice“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”This first sentence filled with irony and playfulness. The novel revolves around the necessity of marrying for love, not simply for mercenary reasons despite the social pressures to make a wealthy match.

Emily Brontë: Wuthering HeightsAlthough Wuthering Heights is now widely regarded as a classic of English literature, contemporary reviews for the novel were deeply polarised; it was considered controversial because its depiction of mental and physical cruelty was unusually stark, and it challenged strict Victorian ideals of the day regarding religious hypocrisy, morality, social classes and gender inequality.

F. Scott Fitzgerald: The Great Gatsby- The best third-wheel story of all time.

P O E T R Y / S H O R T  ST O R I E S

Sylvia Plath: “Lady Lazarus”Out of the ashes / I rise with my red hair / And I eat men like air.

Sylvia Plath: “Poem for a Birthday”“Eaten or rotten. I am all mouth.”

Lucille Clifton: “Homage To My Hips”these hips are mighty hips. these hips are magic hips. i have known them to put a spell on a man and spin him like a top! Maya Angelou: “Phenomenal Woman”It’s the fire in my eyes / And the flash of my teeth, / The swing in my waist,/ And the joy in my feet.  

Warsan Shire:Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth- “later that night / i held an atlas in my lap / ran my fingers across the whole world / and whispered / where does it hurt? / it answered / everywhere / everywhere / everywhere.” - “give your daughters difficult names. give your daughters names that command the full use of tongue. my name makes you want to tell me the truth. my name doesn’t allow me to trust anyone that cannot pronounce it right.” - “every mouth you’ve ever kissed / was just practice / all the bodies you’ve ever undressed / and ploughed in to / were preparing you for me. / was it a long journey? / did it take you long to find me? / you’re here now, / welcome home.” -“I have my mother’s mouth and my father’s eyes; on my face they are  still together.” -“I want to make love but my hair smells of war and running and running.”

Maya Angelou: “Still I Rise”Does my sexiness upset you? / Does it come as a surprise / That I dance likeI’ve got diamonds / At the meeting of my thighs? 

Maya Angelou: “Chicken Licken”When she saw a bed / locksclicked / in her brain

Edgar Allan Poe: Murders In The Rue Morgue- i read this in eighth grade and it is a mystery that stuck with me for therest of my life. it is fascinating in the way that poe always is, i so recommend it.

Edgar Allan Poe: “Evening Star”- “I gazed awhile / On her cold smile /Too cold - too cold for me.”

M E M O I R S / B I O G R A P H I E S

Christine Wiltz: The Last Madam: A Life In the New Orleans Underworld- In 1916, at age fifteen, Norma Wallace arrived in New Orleans. Sexy and shrewd, she quickly went from streetwalker to madam and by 1920 had opened what became a legendary house of prostitution. There she entertained a steady stream of governors, gangsters, and movie stars.

Stephen King: On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft - Shares the experiences, habits, and convictions that have shaped King and his work.

Y O U N G  A D U L T / C H I L D R E N ‘ S 

Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments- so, i didn’t finish this series but it’s the memories of reading these books that makes me put it on this list. i remember reading them on the bus rides home from school, in my eighth grade history class, running to the store on their release date and begging my dad for the newest addition. it is a very fascinating universe; i haven’t watched the show shadowhunters, which is based on this series, but the books were good.

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events- i read ALL OF THESE BOOKS THEY WERE MY LIFE. they were so depressing but i loved these three siblings so much that i refused to leave them alone in that horrible world. haven’t watched the netflix series! 

Rick Riordan: Percy Jackson Series- for me, as a bored thirteen year old, this was one of the things that opened the door to greek mythology, which is now one of my favorite topics to study. 

S O U T H E R N  G O T H I C

Flannery O’Connor: “Good Country People”- Southern Gothic literature is a genre of southern USA writing. While it may include supernatural elements, it mainly focuses on damaged, even delusional, characters. The humor is strange and even when it is finally realized, it might not be all that funny, because humor in Southern Gothic stories is twisted, and usually quite vile. There are consistent grotesque themes of decay, desolation, and supernatural forces that are often credited to lost family honor, ghosts, witches, faeries, or god - but the shit all takes place on an isolated corn farm. It is a very fascinating genre and “good country people” is a prime example of this. (personal note: most of ewoatt chapter one was inspired by the southern gothic genre).   

R E F E R E N C E

Thomas C. Foster: How to Read Literature Like a Professor: A Lively and Entertaining Guide to Reading Between the Lines- THIS IS THE BOOK I REFERENCE MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE WHILE WRITING. It’s an introduction to literature and literary basics, including symbols, themes and contexts, that shows you how to make your everyday reading experience more rewarding and enjoyable.

Joseph Bates: The Nighttime Novelist:Finish Your Novel in Your Spare Time - Franz Kafka was an insurance agent. William Faulkner was a postmaster. Stephen King taught high school English, John Grisham was an attorney, and Toni Morrison worked in publishing. Though romantic fantasies of the writing life don’t often include a day job, the fact is that most writers have one. Yo, if you’re wanting to write a book or just a big fanfic, please get this book. I give it so much credit. 

Barbara & Allan Pease: The Definitive Book of Body Language: The Hidden Meaning Behind People’s Gestures and Expressions- It is a scientific fact that people’s gestures give away their true intentions. Yet most of us don’t know how to read body language–and don’t realize how our own physical movements speak to others. Now the world’s foremost experts on the subject share their techniques for reading body language signals to achieve success in every area of life. Great writing reference. 

Natalie Goldberg: Writing Down the Bones- This text offers encouragement and advice on many aspects of the writer’s craft, from first thoughts to the use and misuse of adverbs, from where the best places are to write - both public and private.

#ask macbetha #recommended #recommendations #book recommendations #references #ref #writing #writing references