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jewish-space-laser · 4 years

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Could Be Lethal - Epilogue

“I'm scared to death that she might be it, That the love is real, that the shoe might fit, She might just be my everything and beyond...”

-Beyond, Leon Bridges

Hello friends! I’m honestly a little choked up posting this. CBL has meant so much to me over this past year, and all I can think about right now is how appreciative for every single person who has supported me, whether you sent me messages, reblogged with nice tags, or gave it any kind of love. None of it went unnoticed, I promise. Special shout out to @for-fucks-sake-h @oh-honey-styles @andwhenshesays @real-work-of-art @haute-romance-quotidienne for hyping me up and proofreading and just being all-around incredible. Okay, this got kind of long, so I’ll end it here, but as always please tell me what you think. I love chatting with you all <3 xoxox Tile (3.3k, she’s a short one!)

You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?

The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.

Catch up here!

You were so, so late.

It was half an hour past the time your friends were set to meet at Slim’s, and you hadn’t even left your flat yet. Meredith had texted you twice asking where you were, but you ignored her.

You and Harry had decided to keep your relationship on the down-low, just for a little while. It wasn’t that you wanted to keep secrets from your friends, you just wanted a little bit of time to adjust to your new normal before having questions fired at you left and right. They were a curious bunch, after all.

“Shit,” you heard Harry mutter from your bedroom. You lowered your mascara wand to peek through the doorway, seeing him frowning at his phone. His jeans were unbuttoned, shirt nowhere to be found, and he only had one sock on. “Nick is calling me.”

“Well, don’t answer!” You laughed. Leaning back towards the bathroom mirror, you continued trying to rush through your makeup.

You absolutely hated rushing, but you hadn’t been able to deny Harry’s suggestion that he should join you in the shower. It had been less than a week since you made things official, but you already knew you were in a world of trouble. You’d never be able to say no to him.

“I think I have to answer,” he sighed, “this is the third time he’s called me, I’m pretty sure he’s getting worried.”

“Okay,” you snorted, “but don’t tell him you’re here.”

“I’ll make something up,” he assured you.

Giggles bubbled up in your throat as you listened to him tell Nick that he’d accidentally taken an extra long nap, and that he’d be on his way shortly. He didn’t sound all that convincing, but it would have to do.

You hadn’t heard him get off the phone, so you jumped a bit when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. You set down the makeup brush you had been using, catching his eye in the mirror. He smiled softly, pressing a little kiss to your shoulder.

“You look really nice,” he told you. At first, it seemed innocent, but then he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, and another to your neck. “Like, really nice.”

You couldn’t help the sigh that blew out of your lips as your head lolled to the side. He was entirely too charming, but you were already late.

“We need to finish getting ready,” you managed to breathe. It was always harder to string sentences together when his lips were on you. “You’re not even dressed.”

He only hummed, closing his eyes as he moved his lips up to your jaw. His hands had moved lower, sliding over your hips and down to the tops of your thighs. You felt like you were on fire.

“Harry, please, we need to....” you gulped when his left hand slide just under the hem of your skirt, “we need to go.”

“Do we?” He teased. “I was thinking maybe we could just… stay here….”

Temptation crept up your spine, but you pushed it down. The two of you had been stuck together like magnets for the past five days, you should be able to get through one night without being all over each other.

“You already, um,” you gulped, feeling Harry’s lips turn up against your skin, “you told Nick you were on your way.”

He pulled back with a sigh, letting the hand under your skirt fall to his side. You watched in the mirror as he rolled his eyes, resting his chin on your shoulder as you finished up with your makeup.

“I don’t know why you’re so stressed about this,” Harry mused, following you as you broke away from him to throw the tube of lipstick into your purse, “it’s just our friends. We see them all the time.”

He was right, of course, but part of you really needed this night to go well, without a single hiccup. Because of you and your inability to express emotions, your entire friend group had suffered. Things were weird when you and Harry had stopped talking, and it was undoubtedly felt by the lot of them. You just wanted the dynamic to feel easy again.

“I guess you’re not wrong,” you admitted, “I just hate lying to them. I’m so bad at it.”

“You are,” he snickered, pulling you into his chest, “it was your idea, though. I personally don’t care if they know.”

You groaned, twisting out of his arms once again to slip your shoes on. Harry followed suit, kneeling down to lace up his vans. The way he was gazing up at you made you squirm a bit, the concern and admiration he felt for you more apparent than usual.

“Babe…” he sighed out, rising to his feet, “you make things so hard for yourself, I swear. You’re always thinking about things that could go wrong. What about the things that have already gone right?”

You sucked your lips into your mouth, not entirely sure how to respond. Maybe you were a pessimist, maybe it was your anxiety, or maybe it was just the way your brain was wired, but you’d always had a tendency to think of the worst possible scenario. Harry had a point though; there was a fine line between self preservation and self sabotage. Perhaps the world wouldn’t end if you gave your anxious brain a breather and allowed yourself to relax.

Getting together with Harry had been hell, but all of the obstacles you’d created were just in your head. Pulling excuses out of thin air was truly your specialty, anything to keep yourself from taking risks, but eventually it had been exhausting holding yourself back from the things you wanted. You didn’t want your anxiety to ruin your happiness anymore.

So you took a deep breath, and then you shifted your focus. Sure, it was going to be uncomfortable fielding questions from your rowdy group of friends, but Harry would be sitting right next to you. And he would stay next to you. And he was in front of you, right now, just inches away, loving you. Suddenly, your concerns regarding your friends weren’t worth dwelling on.

“That’s true,” you rolled your shoulders, letting go of some tension, “lots of things are going right.”

“Like what?” He smirked, swiping his car keys off the little table in your foyer.

“Let’s see,” you said playfully, pretending to be deep in thought as you locked up your flat, “I’ve got a decent job.”

“That you do,” he agreed, “and?”

“I quite like my neighborhood,” you remarked, tilting your head, “my flat is small but I’m proud of it.”

“Okay,” his grin widened, “anything else?”

He was fishing for compliments, but you refused to give in. He faked offense when you just rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip into yours before tangling his fingers with yours. You walked in hand-in-hand until you reached his car.

“I’m lucky to have you,” you said quietly as he buckled his seatbelt. He paused, lips pulled up into a sweet smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, meeting him halfway as you shared a short kiss, “having you in my life is very, very right.”

He kissed you quickly once more before settling into his seat, fiddling with the rearview mirror until he was satisfied. He’d let you borrow his car the other day, and made a huge fuss about the way you readjusted his seat. You loved him anyway.

In fact, you loved him so much, you weren’t sure you were going to be able to hide it. Maybe Harry was right… you were just creating barriers for yourself. How nice would it be if you could slide into the regular booth at Slim’s, next to Harry, and hold his hand? When you were trying to be secretive about your sleepovers, you’d barely even interacted in front of other people, too paranoid that you’d give yourselves away immediately.

It was a scary thing to be thinking about, especially as you were on your on way there already, so you twisted a knob on Harry’s dash to change the radio station. After a few moments of searching for a song to distract you, you gave up and turned the entire thing off.

“Maybe we should just tell them,” you blurted, biting your lip nervously.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at you for just a moment before returning his focus to the road. “We can do whatever you want, babe.”

“What do you want?” You asked.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Well, I mean… I get wanting to keep this to ourselves because it’s so… new, you know?” He looked over at you once he was stopped at a red light, a sheepish smile painted over his cheeks. “But at the same time… I’m excited. Like, really excited, and I want to tell my friends. They’ll be excited for us, I know it.”

Them being excited was what you were afraid of, in a way. You knew your friends well, so you knew that Meredith would ask too many questions, Thomas would say something inappropriate, Grimmy would accidentally talk about it on air, and Jessie would probably just silently sit in the corner. The image you’d created in your head was chaotic and overwhelming.

But maybe it wouldn’t be like that. Maybe it was worth finding out.

“You’re overthinking, I can tell,” Harry frowned, “listen, like I said, we’ll do whatever you want. Tonight is meant to be fun.”

“No,” you shook your head, “let’s tell them.”

“Really? That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

And you meant it. As terrifying as it would be, keeping more secrets from your friends wasn’t the answer. Plus, they would likely ask a bunch of intrusive questions, anyway. Meredith was nosy long before you ever spent a single night in Harry’s bed.

Not to mention that Harry was excited, about you. It warmed your heart in a way you’d never felt before, like you were floating and sinking at the same time. He was proud to be able to call you his, and you understood because you felt the same way. If giving them the news about your relationship would make him happy, then it was a no-brainer. His happiness would always win over your fear.

Your own happiness, too.

Harry ended up being right, of course. The moment the two of you walked through the door together, hands interlocked, the group was ecstatic.

“Holy shit!” Nick had shouted, loud enough that people at other tables were looking over. “Fucking finally!”

Meredith had let out the most grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard squeal, but you’d barely had time to grimace before she was throwing her arms around you. Just like you’d predicted, it was loud, over the top, and even a bit embarrassing… but it was also a celebration. Even though they made a scene, it wasn’t awkward, or overwhelming. They just wanted to support you.

And being the center of attention wasn’t as difficult when you had a partner. Harry was more than willing to take the lead on answering questions, allowing you to sit back and just process everything.

“Next round is on me,” Jessie announced. Harry had just finished explaining to Thomas that the cuddling had been going on for months. Nick and Meredith hadn’t looked shocked, and Jessie had just looked amused.

“Cheers, friend,” you smiled, “need help carrying?”

They nodded at you, so you slid out of your seat, giving Harry’s arm a soft squeeze before making your way to the bar. Jessie caught the attention of the bartender right away, listing off the drink orders that everyone had become familiar with.

“How are you doing?” You asked them, leaning your back against the wooden bar.

“Me?” They scoffed, mirroring your position. “I should be asking how you are. Last time I saw you, you were a total mess. Well, figuratively. Your apartment was ridiculous, I can literally still smell Clorox.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sorry you had to witness my panic induced cleaning. That talk we had ended up being really helpful.”

“Good. It sounds like things are going well, then,” they said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you rested your head on their shoulder, “I am sorry though, for making things weird for everyone.”

“Whatever,” Jessie waved a hand through the air, “it’s over now. We just didn’t like seeing the both of you in so much pain, especially when it wasn’t really our place to do anything about it.”

Just then, the bartender tapped your shoulders, pointing to the six drinks lined up on the counter. You grabbed four while Jessie grabbed two, and together you headed back to the table.

“Oh good, you’re back,” Meredith said, plucking her drink from your hand, “Harry was just telling us about the time he got blackout drunk at some pub in Hackney, weren’t you Harry?”

“No,” he said drily, “I wasn’t.”

You passed him his water, which he promptly took a large gulp of. The woes of being a designated driver.

This went on for a while longer, and eventually your friends stopped grilling you, satisfied with the information they’d pried out of you. Now, it just felt like a normal night, where everybody chatted and gossipped and caught up. So familiar, that you weren’t even phased when a text from Harry popped up on your lock screen.

From: Harry Styles 9:56PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

“Yeah,” you giggled, locking your phone and glancing up at Harry. He was already looking at you with bright eyes and a gentle smile.

He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to your forehead. “Perfect.”

Just weeks ago, you were secretly texting under the table and making up excuses to leave at the same time, a stark contrast to tonight, where you both hugged your friends goodbye and left together, hand-in-hand and drama free. It was refreshing to be able to fully relax together, no longer tethered to the weight that comes with keeping a secret. Harry seemed especially carefree tonight, running his hands up and down your sides as he walked behind you, only letting go once you reached his car.

“I had fun tonight,” he remarked, twisting to look over his shoulder as he reversed from the parking spot. His arm was stretched out behind your headrest, and you had to resist the urge to lean into him.

“Me too,” you hummed, crossing your legs, “it was nice being able to sit next to you for a change.”

“I agree,” he nodded, looking straight ahead out the windshield, “although that skirt has been driving me crazy all evening. In this case it might have been easier having you all the way across the table from me.”

You only giggled, rolling down the car window. You needed some cool air on your skin, which was suddenly feeling flushed all over at the thought of Harry checking you out.

“I’m not kidding,” his lips were in a straight line, but you knew him well enough to recognize the twinkle in his eye, “that thing is coming off the moment we get home.”

You soon found out that he was quite serious, pinning you against the door the moment it closed behind you. He pressed the front of his body fully against yours, not a single inch of space between your chests as he dipped down to slot your lips together.

You gasped for air when he pulled back, throwing your head back against the door as he slowly dragged his palms down your body, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your hips and finally resting on the curve of your ass.

“How do you do it?” Harry wondered out loud, bunching the fabric of your skirt in his fists as he pulled it upwards. “It’s like you don’t even try.”

“Do what?” You breathed, lifting up a leg and looping it around his hip.

He let out an appreciative grunt, grinding his hips into the flimsy lace of your underwear.

“Like… you just make me want you so much,” he wheezed, arching back slightly as you fiddled with the fly on his jeans, “you’re not even trying to be sexy, like tonight, just fucking sitting and chatting shit with our mates, I wanted to- oh, fuck me!”

He let out a shaky breath when you reached inside his boxers, rubbing along his length until you could grasp your fingers around him and tug him free from his boxers. After just a few slow pumps, he was swatting your hands away, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side and pushing into you with a slow buck of his hips. He pushed slowly, in and out, until he was as deep as he could be, and you revelled in the feeling of his hipbones pressed against your pelvis.

“Good?” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Mhm,” you managed, sliding a hand up his back under his shirt.

It wasn’t long before he rendered you a moaning mess, one hand gripping your leg under the knee and the other looped behind the small of your back. He was hitting the deepest, most perfect spots inside of you, and even though the doorknob was digging into your ass, and you still hadn’t taken off your heels, you wouldn’t change a thing.

He was so good at finding creative ways to fuck you, whether it was a spontanious quickie over the desk in his office, or the slow, sultry sex you’d had in his home studio. It was fun, and exciting, and unique, and you couldn’t get enough.

His thrusts became faster and harder the moment you reached your hand down to play with your clit. He was watching your fingers like a hawk, not blinking as he watched you pleasure yourself while he fucked into you. Soon enough, your thighs were shaking, cries escaping your mouth as your orgasm thundered through your veins, sending tingles to the tips of your toes and a warmth throughout your belly.

Harry followed suit soon after, driving his cock into you once more before spilling inside of you. Neither of you moved, simply standing against the door.

“You didn’t even take my skirt off,” you eventually broke the silence, dropping your leg. Your hip was definitely going to be sore in the morning.

“Would you like me to remove it?” He snickered, digging his fingers into your sides. “I’d be happy to rid you of it, right here, right now.”

As you and your boyfriend chased each other around the house, teasingly undressing each other as you went, you didn’t spare a single thought on your worries, anxieties, or fears. No, they weren’t even on the radar.

Instead, all you could focus on was how unbelievably happy you were right now.

You felt high, but this time you weren’t afraid of falling because Harry would be there to catch you. There could be pits of lava, fields of thorns, pointy rocks, rivers full of piranhas… and you’d still take the blind leap if it meant being in his arms. In a way, you’d already been through hell to get here, plagued by your own mind, the most torturous kind of self sabotage.

It didn’t matter what the future held. Hypotheticals were no longer important; what mattered was what you had right now, right in front of you.

And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I’m so sad that their story has come to an end, but it’s not over! We’ll definitely be seeing more of them. I love you all xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxox Tile

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harrystyles fanfic #fanfiction #one direction #harry #styles #friends to lovers #could be lethal #cbl #epilogue

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

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Not Your Hero. Chapter 3

Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter four, Chapter five

AN: Y/N finds out that this second trip to the capitol may leave her with as many scars as the first but, is anything really different? It feels that way.

Characters: Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Mags Flanagan

Pairings: Finnick x reader

Spoiler(s): None

Warning(s): Mentions of blood, death, murder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, psychological manipulation, intimidation, alcohol abuse and some unhealthy coping mechanisms

Prompt/Inspiration: Pretender (acoustic) - AJR and Miss Americanah and The Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

(Note: the song Y/N is hearing is A Very Good Year from Robbie Williams’ Swing When You’re Winning album)

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Your knuckles were white where you clenched the balcony’s railing, whether from anger or shock you couldn’t yet tell. The night air was cold and refreshing against your skin but, as usual, you wished the city wasn’t always so...loud. Even now, at nearly three in the morning, the din hadn’t subsided and the sound of trains, cars, music and chatter seeped into your pours like a toxin. You took a swig from the tumbler of whiskey beside you, wincing as it burned its way down your throat like fire. You hadn’t gotten used to the taste yet but you’d been working your way through the bottle for the better part of the night and by now it was more than half gone. You’d run out of ice hours ago, not that that was going to stop you. You weren’t doing it for the flavor, you were doing it because you didn’t know what else to do. Your mind was whirling, so you drank, plain and simple.

It made sense now, you supposed, all the secrecy, the dread that had been following you for weeks, the thinly veiled looks of sympathy and concern on your friends’ faces, all of it. You took a deep breath in, trying to muster up some sort of emotion and finding none. It made sense, it was reasonable, you understood, but you should be angry, right? No one warned you. They all knew, but they said nothing, wasn’t that wrong? Shouldn’t you be angry about that? Shouldn’t you be scared? Disgusted? Heartbroken? Shouldn’t you feel something right now? Slowly, you exhaled an exhausted sigh, taking another sip from your tumbler. Well, you reasoned, you guessed not.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe when the shock wore off and the alcohol had faded and the world came back into focus, maybe then you’d feel it. In the background an old Robbie Williams record crooned on about a very good year and suddenly the sound of violins rose up through the floorboards and drowned out the noise of the city. You closed your eyes and soaked it in like a dream. For a moment, the first in a long, long time, everything was good. You were full and clean and healthy, the alcohol made you feel light and unburdened and strong and, just for that moment, it was a beautiful night. Just for a second, it was a beautiful night and nothing could touch you except the wind. Tomorrow, you promised yourself, tomorrow you would deal with Snow’s ultimatum and everything that came with it. Tomorrow you would be afraid but tonight was your night; tonight you were well and truly a Victor.

His footsteps gave him away, even though you knew he could be silent as a cat when he wanted, but you didn’t turn, holding onto your fragile perfect moment. Finnick’s profile appeared in your peripheral vision, sharp and striking against the city skyline and, without saying anything, you slid him the bottle. He took a swing of the whiskey, barely flinching, and passed it back.

“So I guess you probably hate me now,” he finally said, trying to hide the quiver in his voice, “not that I blame you, of course.”

You smiled to yourself, still facing out over the city and glancing at Finnick out of the corner of your eye. Someone had prettied him up of course, same as you but, no matter what they did, there wasn’t a stylist or prep team alive who could take more than partial credit for Finnick Odair. His skin, the way light caught on his auburn hair, the cut of his jaw, those piercing eyes; they were almost comically perfect, like someone had dreamt him into being. Sometimes stylists interfered more than they needed to and it became too much but, you noticed without meaning to, tonight they’d got it right. He was in a simple black suit, with a stiff collared white button-up, which he’d unbuttoned slightly and a bowtie, which he’d obviously undone at some point during the night. Overall, the effect was casual and debonair and let Finnick’s natural beauty take center stage. In short, he looked good, really good, so good that it made you slightly breathless. But right then, more than anything else, he looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and tensing his jaw as he stared determinedly forward. You knew that look. He was bracing for the impact, waiting for the rejection he was sure was coming.

“No,” you answered, “I don’t hate you, Finnick. I understand why you did what you did.”

Even from your periphery, you saw his double take and you smiled to yourself again, meeting his eye for the first time since his arrival. Your smile seemed to confuse Finnick even more and the look on his face was so sweet and endearing that it made your heart pinch.

There was a brief pause where you just looked at one another, sizing each other up like strangers, before Finnick managed to ask, “Why not?”

The alcohol in your blood thrummed and pulsed, keeping you happy and light and you shrugged, taking another sip from your tumbler, “What would telling me have done, really?” you answered, “I already knew something bad was coming, I just didn’t have the specifics figured out, that’s all.” You continued, turning back to the city, “And, even if you did tell me, we couldn’t have done anything about it. If Snow wants me to be his personal whore, there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him. He could have blown my head off in that office and no one could have done a damn thing about it. Compared to that, I’d say I got off easy.” you finished, smiling ruefully.

Finnick nodded, “I did want to.” he said, “Tell you, I mean. That first night in your room, I really considered it.”

“But?”

“But I wanted you to have a few more days.” he admitted, “Once you know-” he shrugged, “well, you don’t really forget a thing like that, do you?”

“No, I don’t imagine you do,” you laughed, earning a tired smile from Finnick.

You lapsed into comfortable silence, ruminating on the night together, as you had done on many nights over the last few days. After that first night, when you realised the depth of your affection for one another, you and Finnick had fallen into a sort of unspoken routine. During the day you socialised and mingled, you smiled and joked with the others and kept your distance but every evening, as night fell, you would inevitably find yourselves drawn back together, back to the safety and comfort of your room. Once, you’d simply stayed up through the night talking, swapping stories from home and fears for the future but, more often, one of you would succumb to sleep and be tucked in by the other, who would then sleep in the comfortable armchair. Usually the nightmares would draw you out of sleep at some point but, when they did, Finnick was there and maybe that made it easier, maybe you weren’t so afraid of sleep anymore, so long as he was with you. And maybe it helped him too, maybe that’s why he kept coming back.

You looked over at him again, turning your body so you could study his profile intently. He looked sad, you noticed, so sad that it hurt to look at him and you wanted to reach out, close that distance between your bodies and touch. That was one thing you never did. Not after that first day. Whether it was because you were both victors and physical contact was something of a trigger, or it was some sort of instinctual sense of self-preservation, clinging to that separation like a safety net while you bared your souls didn’t really matter. The fact remained. The only time you and Finnick ever touched one another was in the moments just after a nightmare, when the panic was fresh in your blood and you needed an anchor to bring you back into the present. Only then, under the cover of complete darkness, would either one of you reach out to the other for comfort and, even then, he would only rest his hand on the small of your back for a moment, for as long as it took for your breathing to even out. As soon as that happened, Finnick would pull back and reinstate the distance, as though your skin might burn him even through your clothes. Just another unspoken rule, another limit, something you were more than happy to stick to if it meant keeping Finnick around.

But tonight, with the alcohol and the music and the lights, it felt different. Tonight you wanted to close that distance, to feel if his skin was as smooth as it looked, or if his hands were as rough as you remembered. You wanted to touch him, to see if it felt as electric and thrilling and dangerous when the lights were on as it did in those few stolen moments in the darkness. More than that, you wanted him to let you, and to touch you back.

You shook your head to clear it, your heart pounding in your chest as you realised how far your thoughts had strayed. It wasn’t your place, you reminded yourself sternly, Finnick was your friend. He trusted you. You watched him take another swig from the whiskey bottle, long and deep this time, and tried not to focus too hard on his lips.

“You done staring yet, kid?” he asked with a hint of fondness, shooting you a look that made you blush and look away.

“I told you not to call me kid,” you said, settling in to the old, comfortable argument.

“But you are a kid,” Finnick smiled.

“I’m two years younger than you,” you protested for the millionth time, “if I’m a kid, you’re a kid too.”

He shrugged, “True enough, but I’m still less of a kid than you, kid.”

“Yeah well, I’m less of an ass than you.” you shot back without any real malice.

Finnick chuckled; a soft, rolling sound that always sent a shiver down your spine, “That’s also true enough.” he answered quietly.

You let the silence stretch on for a second but, now that you’d started talking, it was like you couldn’t stop and words just kept bubbling up in your chest, fighting to slip out into the cool night air.

“I was just thinking,” you finally said, taking a half a step closer, one hand still on the railing.

“About?”

“Your nightmares,” you answered honestly, “this is what they’re about, isn’t it? It’s not the arena, it’s Snow and his...customers.”

Finnick sighed, looked back at you and then down at the whiskey, “This stuff is disgusting.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment but you shrugged, “It’s all I could steal on my way out of Snow’s office, and I didn’t want to go back down to the party after that.”

Finnick nodded like he understood and pushed himself up off the railing, “Wait here.” he commanded as he vanished back into the mansion.

You wanted to shoot back something clever and snarky about how he wasn’t the boss of you, but your heart wasn’t in it. Instead you took a seat at one of the two sun loungers someone had forgotten to remove and listened to Finnick’s footsteps as he took the stairs two at a time and disappeared back down into the thrum of the party. As soon as you couldn’t hear him anymore, you pressed your hand to your chest and swore loudly when you saw that it was shaking.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you whispered, resting your forehead in your palms, “it’s Finnick. It’s just Finnick.”

Up until tonight you thought you’d had your feelings under control. They were confusing and inconvenient and messy and wonderful but they’d never been dangerous, they’d never been so strong that it felt like they were pulsing just under your skin, itching to get out. It was scary but, a small voice in your head whispered, it was also sort of thrilling. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Finnick return with three bottles of champagne.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” he said without meeting your eye, “had to sneak into the kitchen to get these. I figured, since it’s technically your party, they wouldn’t mind.”

You forced a smile, taking a bottle without brushing his fingers, “They aren’t missing me?”

“If they have any brains at all they’re missing you terribly,” Finnick smiled, taking a seat on the edge of the lounger you were on and getting to work opening the bottle he was holding, “but between you disappearing into Snow’s office and 98% of them being roaringly drunk, I don’t think they’ve noticed; no.” He finished, “Ah, there we go.”

As he said that, he managed to pop the cork and bubbles spilled over the neck and onto the lounger. You laughed and leaned forward, grabbing the bottle and sucking up the sweet bubbles without thinking. Finnick laughed, shaking his hand dry as you drank. The champagne made your head feel light and airy, but it was undoubtedly better than whiskey and it was only once the bubbles had subsided that you passed the bottle back to Finnick.

“Not bad, Y/N/N,” he smiled, “not bad at all.”

“For a kid, you mean,” you teased.

“Of course,” he assured, “for a kid.”

You shrugged, “Spillage is sippage, Haymitch taught me that.”

“Terrible influence, that one,” Finnick smiled, taking a swig from the open bottle, “I love him.”

“Me too.”

Finnick sighed, steeling himself for something unpleasant, and passed you the bottle. You drank, but kept your eyes on him, not pushing, just waiting. Eventually he turned to face you and pulled his leg up onto the lounger, so his knee was brushing yours. It was unintentional, you reasoned, but that didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your throat like a rabbit and staying there as you held his gaze, passing the bottle back. As you did, you shivered and Finnick’s brow creased with concern.

“Shit, Y/N/N, you’re cold,” he said, pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders before you could do much more than mumble that you were fine.

“Thanks,” you blushed, pulling the blazer tighter around yourself.

He nodded and looked down at the bottle in his hands, tensing his jaw thoughtfully. In one fluid motion he raised it to his lips and he drank deep.

“It’s both,” Finnick finally said, “the arena and Snow, in my nightmares.” he explained when you looked up at him questioningly, “Sometimes one, sometimes the other, but usually both.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Finnick smiled ruefully, examining the bottle in his hand, “fuck Y/N/N,” he swore, looking up suddenly and meeting your eye, “I’m so sorry. I never-I wish I could-”

His intensity shocked you but, as he looked down again he looked so defeated that your heart ached and he suddenly seemed fragile. Without giving yourself a moment to doubt or second guess, you leaned forward and touched his forearms gently. He flinched, but didn’t pull away, meeting your gaze head on, a question flickering at the edge of his piercingly green eyes. Whatever he saw in your eyes must have been enough because you felt his muscles relax under your palms.

“I’m sorry, Fin. I can’t even imagine how hard these last four years have been for you.” you said gently.

Finnick flushed and, when he did, he looked young, “They couldn’t really touch me for the first two years,” he explained, “they had to wait until I was of age.”

You shook your head and tightened your grip slightly, “That doesn’t make it better, Fin. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, looking at you with some unidentifiable emotion, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You shivered. Something about hearing Finnick say your name, your full name, always made you feel vulnerable and exposed. Maybe it was because, when he said it, you knew he was seeing you, like really seeing you. Maybe it was because you liked that. Maybe you just liked the way he made it sound.

You knew you should pull your hands back, end the moment, go back to joking and laughing with one another but you didn’t. It felt too good and you were just drunk enough to be selfish about it. There was a sincerity, you realised, to the way Finnick was looking at you right now, like you were something precious to him, something valuable. It felt heavy and meaningful and...warm. But there was also a sadness there, a longing for something, like he wanted to talk but couldn’t, a fear. Fear of what you weren’t sure; rejection? Hurt? Cruelty? You were sure he’d never looked at you like that before.

Or maybe he has, a voice in the back of your head whispered, maybe you just couldn’t see his face in all that darkness.

You opened your mouth to talk but paused just before the words left your lips. Instead you just moved your hands down Finnick’s forearms, until your fingers brushed over his palms and you were gripping his hands. Some small part of your brain noted that they felt exactly how you remembered them, but it was quickly silenced by the rush of electricity that shot through your fingertips the moment your skin touched his. You heard his voice catch and looked up just in time to see the flash of fear that ran through Finnick’s eyes.

“Was there another reason,” you asked quietly, your heart pounding in your ears, “that you didn’t want to tell me about Snow?”

Finnick looked down at your hands, swallowing hard and squeezing your hand tight, as though he was afraid it might slip away.

“Finnick,” you pressed gently, “talk to me.”

If Finnick saying your name had had an effect on you, hearing you say his shook him to the core.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that,” he said quickly, avoiding your eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like a capitol plaything,” he answered, his mouth curling like the words tasted bitter, “like Snow’s puppet.”

You frowned, “Fin, I’d never-I don’t see you that way. That’s not what you are!” you insisted. Finnick gave you a disbelieving look and you felt that rush of protective fire in the pit of your stomach again.

There were so many things you wanted to say at once that you couldn’t decide, so you did the only thing you could think to do to get your point across; you leant forward and kissed him. For a horrible second Finnick just froze and you were convinced that you’d made a terrible mistake but then, like a switch had flipped in his head, he melted into your arms and pulled you tight against his body. You sighed into the kiss, revelling in it like sunlight because kissing Finnick...wow. Kissing Finnick felt like injecting liquid light directly into your veins; it felt like looking out over the ocean right before a storm. It drowned out everything else; every car, every train, every bit of ambient noise that could distract from the man in your arms faded into nothing and you lost yourself. If it wasn’t for Finnick’s steadiness, his surety, you were sure you would have simply burned up and ceased to exist. It was too much and not nearly enough. It was electric and passionate and gentle and good and and and…And it was over too soon.

You broke apart, breathing heavily, with your foreheads resting against each other. Finnick opened his mouth to speak but, before he could say something self deprecating and untrue, you pressed your fingers to his lips and met his gaze head on.

“Finnick Odair, you are the bravest, funniest, kindest and most infuriating person I’ve ever met.” you started, “You are not a plaything, or a puppet. You’re doing what you have to do to keep the people you care about safe. That’s all any of us can do, that’s what it means to be a victor and-and now it’s my fight too. We’re in this together, okay?”

Finnick nodded, the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, “Okay.”

You went to move away but Finnick kept you close, his eyes glinting with steely determination.

“Fin?”

“I won’t let him hurt you, Y/N,” he swore, “not like he hurt me. I won’t, I’ll-”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, “don’t-don’t promise me that. Just promise you’ll be there for me when he does, okay?” you asked, feeling, for the first time, the prickly hand of dread on your back, “Promise I won’t be alone?”

Finnick looked sad but he cupped your cheek and nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, soft as a petal.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Mhmm?”

“It’s nearly the end of the party, before we go, will you dance with me?”

You looked up, shocked by the depth of emotion you felt in Finnick’s eyes. He reached out his and you took it, letting him pull you up and guide you back inside. You were halfway down the staircase before you realised you were still wearing his jacket but, when you tried to give it back, he just shook his head. Something was bubbling in the pit of your stomach now, like the champagne from earlier, a blend of anxiety and anticipation all swirling together and making you alert. Every step brought you closer and closer, made the music louder and louder, made your heart beat faster and faster. And, all the while Finnick stood right beside you, steady as ever. From the base of the staircase you could see it all, the corridor across from where you were that led to the president’s quarters, the gardens behind that and the grand mahogany stairs standing between you and the dancefloor.

-------------------

Finnick stopped on the last stair, taking a moment for himself, just one; to remember you in exactly the way you were in that moment, windswept and free and totally his, with smudged lipstick and his blazer around your shoulders, holding his hand like he was some sort of lifeline. It was surreal, everything he’d been dreaming of since the moment he’d seen you all those days ago. Could it really have only been nine days? He hardly felt like the same person now that he was then. There was so much he wanted to tell you, so much you needed to talk about and workout before this could be anything real but, god he wanted it to be. He wanted to take you home with him right then and press a thousand kisses to your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your collarbones. He wanted to touch and hold and protect and claim. He wanted you to be his, like this forever. Something stirred in his chest, strong and undeniable, like a tidal wave poised to crash onto the shore. There would be time, he promised himself, lots of time but for now, he just had to get you through tonight.

You were still clutching his hand, worrying at the inside of your cheek as you looked out across the seas of brightly coloured people drunkenly swaying around the dancefloor.

He kissed you then, because he couldn’t not, and the look in your eyes when he pulled away was sweet enough to sustain him through the next three years at least.

“By the way, you look beautiful tonight, Y/N,” he whispered, “I don’t think I mentioned that earlier. I should have.”

You blushed and something near his heart pinched, “You look beautiful too, Fin.”

“Yeah but that’s a given,” he teased, slipping his jacket from your shoulders and wishing, more than anything that he could just walk out there with his hand in yours and his head held high, “you’re the unknown entity, kid.”

You laughed and took the elbow he was offering, and he breathed an internal sigh of relief as the tension leached out of your body, “Remind me to never compliment you again.” you smiled.

“It was a horrible decision on your part, I can feel my ego swelling as we walk.”

You laughed as he led you to the top of the second staircase. Heads were turning in your direction rapidly now and, not for the first time in his life, Finnick wished for anonymity. He wished he was just another man, staring up at you in wonder, hoping to catch the attention of a pretty girl at a party.

As if you could sense the shift in his mood, you leant up and whispered in his ear, “Also don’t think you can call me ‘kid’ anymore, since you had your tongue in my mouth like five minutes ago.”

It took every ounce of poise Finnick had to not just break down and ruin the whole act right there but he managed. Just.

“Remind me why I want to dance with you again?” He said softly as you reached the dancefloor, placing your right hand on his shoulder and lifting your left in his.

You shrugged and followed his lead, “You guess is as good as mine.”

As you looked up, Finnick felt his breath catch in his throat. You were so close. Close enough that he could see each of your eyelashes, and smell the sweet, fruity perfume that you sprayed in your hair every day and your lips, god your lips. He would never be able to look at them again, not without wanting to kiss you until they bruise. What would happen if he did? Surely whatever happened would be worth it for one more taste of that heavenly adrenaline.

“Fin,” you whispered, snapping him out of his daydreams, “Why did you want to dance with me?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” he answered honestly, “and because, it’s your night and-” he smiled sadly, “and because I’ve always hated this place and now, no matter what happens, I can say I slow-danced with someone I cared about, in a beautiful house, surrounded by beautiful people, none of whom could hold a candle to her, and enjoyed it before I died.”

“One good memory here,” you agreed.

“Yeah, one good memory, to help cancel out all the bad.”

And Y/N Y/LN, he thought to himself, you’re the best memory I’ve got.

------------------

taglist: @i-love-you-green , @heatherhollowayst, @givethnofucketh, @gnvve

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lifeofresulullah · 3 years

Text

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Battle of Uhud and Afterwards

Hazrat Aisha is in her Mother’s Home

When Hazrat Aisha was ill, Umm Ruman, her mother, looked after her.

One day, the Messenger of God entered the house, greeted them and asked, “How is your patient?” without mentioning Aisha’s name. He did not say anything else.

Hazrat Aisha said,

“(Thereupon) I could not help saying, ‘O Messenger of God! I have been suffering so much. Will you let me go to my Mother’s house? I can be looked after there.’

The Messenger of God said, ‘You may go!’

I wanted to go to my parents and find out about the news against me.

The Messenger of God sent me to my father’s house with a servant.

My mum asked, ‘O my daughter! Why did you come?’

I said, ‘Mum! People have been talking against me but you did not mention anything to me.’

Mum said, ‘My daughter, take it easy. By God, it hardly occurs that a wife is so beloved to her husband, and she has co-wives at the same time, except that they talk about her!’

I asked, ‘Does my father know about it?’ She said,

‘Yes, he does.’

I asked, ‘Does the Messenger of God know about it?’ She said,

‘Yes, he does.’

I could not help crying.

My father was reading the Quran upstairs. When he heard my voice, he came downstairs. He asked Mum, ‘What is wrong with her?’

Mum said, ‘She heard about the rumors against him.’

My father started to cry too.

I cried and cried until the morning came.”

The Prophet Consults his Companions

The Messenger of God spent most of his time at home and did not go out very often during the days when the slander against Hazrat Aisha was prevalent.

When revelation regarding the issue was delayed, he talked to his Companions and asked them about their views.

Hazrat Umar’s View

Hazrat Umar said, “O Messenger of God! This is a big slander. I definitely know that it is a lie of the munafiqs. God protects you even from flies. Is it possible that God, who protects your body from flies that land on dirt and keeps them away from your body, will not protect your family from such disgrace?”

Hazrat Uthman’s View

Hazrat Uthman expressed his view as follows:

“O Messenger of God! God protects your shadow from being on the ground so that people will not step on it or dirt will not land on it. Is it possible that God, who does not let anybody step on your shadow, will let anybody blemish the honor of your family?”

Hazrat Ali’s View

Hazrat Ali said, “O Messenger of God! Once, you were leading the prayer. You took off your shoes. We took off our shoes following you. When you finished the prayer, you asked us why we had taken off our shoes. We said we had taken them off to follow you. Thereupon, you said, ‘Gabriel ordered me to take them off because they were not clean.’ Is it possible that you were informed about the dirt that polluted your shoes and you were ordered to take them off but you would not be ordered to remove something that blemished your honor?”

The View of Hazrat Aisha’s Maid

Meanwhile, the Messenger of God called Aisha’s maid servant, Barira, and asked her view.

Barira said, “O Messenger of God! I swear by God, who has sent you as the true prophet that I have not seen anything from her but goodness. I can only say one thing that can be regarded as a fault about her: one thing. She was a young girl. She sometimes used to fall asleep when she was kneading the dough; and when she fell asleep, the lamb would come and eat the dough.”

Hazrat Zaynab’s View

Hazrat Zaynab regarded herself equal to Hazrat Aisha among the wives of the Prophet in terms of her beauty and position; she always competed with her. However, she did not have any negative thoughts about Hazrat Aisha. When the Messenger of God asked her about her view, she said,

“O Messenger of God! I protect my ears from saying, ‘I heard’ what I did not hear and my eyes from saying, ‘I saw’ what I did not see. I do not know anything but goodness about her.”

The Prophet’s Speech

In fact, the Messenger of God knew very well that Aisha, his wife, was free from such slander; however, he was depressed that such treacherous, sly and planned slander spread among people. It made him change his attitude toward her. As a matter of fact, the speech that he made in the mosque expressed it clearly:

“Oh gathering of Muslims! Who will help me against a person who has hurt me with slander about my wife? By God, I only know good about my wife. And they have mentioned a man with her concerning whom I only know good of as well.”

The Prophet Talks to Hazrat Aisha

Although about a month passed after the slander against Hazrat Aisha, no revelation was sent down to the Messenger of God.

A few days after his speech in the mosque, the Prophet went to Hazrat Abu Bakr’s house. After greeting them, he sat next to Aisha and said, “O Aisha! I have heard such and such things about you. If you are free and away from those accusations, God will state that you are free and away from them. If you have committed such a sin, ask forgiveness from God and repent to Him. When a slave confesses his/her sin and repents, God treats him/her with mercy.”

Hazrat Aisha narrates her mood at that time as follows:

“When the Messenger of God (pbuh) ended his words, my tears dried. There was not even one drop coming out of my eyes.

I turned to my father and said to him, ’Answer the Messenger of God on behalf of me.’

My father said, ‘O my daughter! By God, I do not know what to say the Messenger of God (pbuh).’

Then, I turned to my mother and said to her, ’Answer the Messenger of God on behalf of me.’

She said, ‘By God, I do not know what to say the Messenger of God (pbuh), either’.”

Hazrat Aisha’s Answer

Hazrat Aisha’s father and mother did not answer the Messenger of God; so she had to speak. After uttering kalima ash-shahada and praising God Almighty, she said, “By God, I know that you have heard these rumors, and you look as if you have believed them. So, if I were to tell you that I am not guilty, – God knows that I am not – you would not believe me. And if I were to tell you I did something bad, – God knows that I did not – you would readily believe me! So, all I can say to you for my and your situation is the story of Jacob (pbuh) with his sons. At that time, he said, ‘(For me) patience is most fitting: against that which ye assert, it is God (alone) whose help can be sought.’”

Revelation is Sent down to the Prophet

The Messenger of God had not stood up yet. Nobody from the household had gone out. Revelation was sent down to the Prophet there. Hazrat Aisha narrated the incident as follows:

“The Messenger of God showed the signs of receiving revelation like sweating due to the difficulty and intensity of the revelation. As a matter of fact, he would have beads of sweat like pearls during revelation even on a winter day. They covered the body of the Messenger of God (pbuh) and put a pillow under his head. I was neither afraid nor worried. I knew that I was innocent and that God would not treat me unjustly. My parents were very scared because they were worried that the rumors would be confirmed by God.”

When the state of revelation ended, the Messenger of God was smiling happily. He said to Aisha, “Glad tidings O Aisha! God acquitted you and stated that you were free and away from that slander.”

Hazrat Abu Bakr became very happy. He stood up and kissed her daughter’s head.

The Verses that were Sent down

God Almighty stated the following in the verses that He sent to His Messenger regarding the issue:

“Those who brought forward the lie are a body among yourselves: think it not to be an evil to you: on the contrary it is good for you: to every man among them (will come the punishment) of the sin that he earned and to him who took on himself the lead among them will be a Penalty grievous.

Why did not Believers, men and women when ye heard of the affair― put the best construction on it in their own minds and say "This (charge) is an obvious lie"?

Why did they not bring four witnesses, to prove it? When they have not brought the witnesses such men in the sight of God, (stand forth) themselves as liars!

Were it not for the grace and mercy of God on you, in this world and the Hereafter, a grievous penalty would have seized you in that ye rushed glibly into this affair.

Behold ye received it on your tongues and said out of your mouths things of which ye had no knowledge; and ye thought it to be a light matter, while it was most serious in the sight of God.

And why did ye not when ye heard it say? "It is not right of us to speak of this: Glory to Thee (our Lord)! this is a most serious slander!"

God doth admonish you, that ye may never repeat such (conduct) if ye are (true) Believers.

And God makes the Signs plain to you: for God is full of knowledge and wisdom.

Those who love (to see) scandal published broadcast among the Believers, will have a grievous Penalty in this life and in the Hereafter: God knows and ye know not.

Were it not for the grace and mercy of God on you, and that God is full of kindness and mercy, (ye would be ruined indeed).”

Thus, God Almighty told His Messenger that what was said about Hazrat Aisha was nothing but slander, relieving the clean soul and conscience of His Messenger of the distress and preventing the personality of Hazrat Abu Bakr from being humiliated; so, the mischief and disturbance that emerged among Muslims was prevented from being spread.

The Best Acquittal

Once Hazrat Abdullah b. Abbas was asked about the interpretation of the verses related to Hazrat Aisha. He explained them as follows:

“God acquitted four people of four things and freed them from the slanders:

1) He acquitted Hazrat Yusuf through the tongue of a witness from the family of Zulaykha.

2) He acquitted Hazrat Moses of the rumors of the Jews through the stone that took his clothes.

3) He acquitted Hazrat Maryam by making the baby on her lap say, ‘I am a slave of God’.

4) He acquitted Hazrat Aisha through the magnificent verses of the glorious Quran, which will be preserved until the Doomsday; this last acquittal has had no match. Look and see the difference between this acquittal and the others.

God did it only to show the highness of the degree of His Messenger.”

The Slanderers are Punished

After the revelation regarding the issue was sent down, the Messenger of God recited a sermon and then the read the verses to the people.

After that, he ordered Mistah b. Uthatha, Hassan b. Thabit and Hamna bint Jahsh, who worked hard with their tongues to spread the rumor, to be punished. The slanderers were whipped 80 lashes.

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years

Text

So close feels so afar

Inspired by this post by @draw-your-perfect-world

Word Count: 2,777

Taglist: @ragingdumpsterfiremess

Characters: Roman, Deceit, Remus, Patton (briefly), Logan (briefly), Thomas (briefly) and Virgil

Pairing(s): Let’s say if you squint in one way it could be Roceit, if you squint in another way it could be Prinxiety, but it can all be interpreted as platonic

Warning(s): (Characters are all sympathetic), negative thinking, self-deprecation, self-doubt, swearing (once)

Summary: Thomas is having trouble with his content, it’s gone on for so long that the sides themselves are starting to overwork so much they get overly stressed. Roman has a thought. A bad myriad of thoughts.

A/N: Before you read, let me warn you that this is written in second person from Roman’s point of view. Soooo, two angsty Roman fics in a row huh? I feel the need to write one in which he only gets all the cuddles and gets appreciated aah pardon me for breaking your hearts, but the opportunity was too good to be passed up. Hope you enjoy!

✾

❝ My heart is twisted, heavy, wrong.It's like it knows I don't belong.

The world is big, lovely to be.And yet, there is no place for me. ❞

It wasn't the first time for you, was it?

« I don't know, guys ... I think we should just discard this whole video. »

The heavy feeling on your chest as you realized that, in the long run, your contribution didn't matter anyway, that your motivation was starting to fade away, letting the hopelessness take its place instead.

That everything you did or tried to do didn't matter or was useless, in any case.

You tried to speak, and god all those eyes on you, the attention you once sought now felt like the unbearable weight of a thousand people's judgment. You felt uneasy in front of the four people you knew and that knew you best.

When Thomas sighed and looked away, no longer paying attention to your words, you began to stagger as you tried to rescue the pieces of your confidence that had started to inevitably break and fall into the pit of your chest, pushing and pulling you towards the heavy void.

Your voice died down and your argument lost its meaning along with its importance.

« Great. This was a complete and utter failure. » Logan sank down faster than any other day. You wondered what had happened to his problem-solving nature and his constant willingness to help in critic situations.

You believed he was ... better at this than you. In fact, you had no idea why you even bothered to give your own input on the topic.

Well, there was always this urge to prove yourself in the eyes of Thomas you'd been having for quite a while, maybe even too long, so much that you grew accustomed to it.

Maybe the problem with that was that, unlike Logan, you felt. You thought that was what was wrong with you all along.

Sure, Patton felt too, but he had dealt with that for such a long time that he knew how to handle it and how to still be reasonable through his thinking process.

Virgil, despite having to manage some of the worst feelings, was also cautious thanks to them, analyzing every possible outcome.

And you? You had your passion. Sure, that was a big part for Thomas's interests, but beyond that?

You felt.

You felt ... like something wasn't right.

Because when Logan disappeared, leaving a somewhat irritated expression as the last image of him, you blamed yourself.

When Virgil shrank in his hoodie and shook his head before sinking down, you blamed yourself.

And when Patton excused himself with a pained look on his face, you blamed yourself yet again.

You grimaced and ignored the knot forming in your throat.

« I'm sorry. » an apology that felt as useful as your ability to solve the situation that same day.

The blaming didn't stop when you sank down before you could hear Thomas's response.

Did you even want to hear it?

You traced the little drawings you had carved on your door years earlier, refusing to get into a room that seemed so foreign; did "Creativity" even fit you anymore? You couldn't remember the last time someone didn't shoot down one of your unreachable ideas.

Like a thunder in the middle of a quiet evening, a memory appeared on your mind and flashed before your eyes: it had happened little after Virgil had fully joined your part of the mindscape. You had agreed that, in any circumstance and for any issue, you would've been there for each other. Always.

You went to Logan first: as we already mentioned before, problem-solving, right? Wrong. Or, at least, in that particular moment.

You were met with a terribly stressed logical side, that you were pretty sure was trying very hard to keep the "logical" part as he paced around his room almost literally shaking with nervousness.

« Not a good time, Roman. » was all you heard when you opened his door with caution. Before you could justify your visit, he excused himself and went back to look like the same messy state his room was in.

Patton was your second choice, but how much of an appropriate idea could it possibly be, when you saw him lying on his bed feeling even worse than you? Your selfless nature rushed over your body and you ended up comforting him instead of trying to open up on your own feelings.

Why did it always have to end up like this? Why couldn't you just talk for once? Patton would have returned all the favors you gave him, you were sure, then why was it so difficult to admit you felt sick of yourself?

You closed the door of his room behind yourself, your heartbeat increasing. You were almost there. But you just couldn't find it in yourself to worsen Patton's already precarious condition with useless musings that would have only broken his heart.

No, you were completely wrong. There was nothing to be concerned about, the only problem was Thomas's enormous lack of content and you had to shove away whatever problem you had.

Now didn't that feel absolutely horrible to think that, Roman? There was no escaping it.

While trying to understand why you were doing this to yourself, you came across Virgil's door.

Your hand hovered over the handle. One twist and it would've been it.

You backed away and decided against it. If Logan and Patton were already feeling horrendous, who knows what you might have encountered.

You looked to your left and your eyes met the dark sides' rooms.

And you wondered, just for a split second, you reflected on that thing. Something you were so afraid to name but that came into your mind so often you almost believed it.

It had started in the imagination, when Remus playfully once insulted you and you hadn't found the will to deny anything.

Then, while by yourself, you started being more critical of your own ideas and works, you sat for hours with a blank stare coming up with nothing but blatant banalities.

Eventually, you slipped up. That one game night, when you agreed when someone called you an idiot. You knew they didn't mean it, but you still felt like you needed to point out that yes, you thought that too, deeply and every single painful moment of your existence.

It was the way Virgil called that.

Self-deprecating.

He said it was his job and Patton insisted both of you should have stopped saying terrible things about yourselves.

Neither of you did.

That term stuck with you and you weren't able not to wonder if perhaps there was a possibility you could identify with it.

And when the other came, right then, with you staring at the dark sides aisle, that feeling of wrongness increased to the point you couldn't bear staying in the "light" sides corridor anymore.

In a matter of seconds you rushed over to the door of their common room.

When he opened up, expression neutral but just that slight bit surprised, Deceit raised his eyebrows. « Well? »

« Self-doubt. » there it was.

« What? »

« There's been a mistake. » you tried again, you couldn't follow your breathing pace anymore. « We need to switch places. »

« Switch- I'm not following you. »

« I am self-doubt.»

« Huh? »

« You're self preservance. »

« I'm flattered and all by this enchanting game of words, but I really think you should get some rest. Did Remus hit your head again? I told him to refrain from that. »

You shook your head visibly and a heavy sensation rose in your chest. Your shaky hands gently pushed him back and you let yourself into the room. « You don't understand. »

Your eyes searched for one thing only. One person only.

Remus had propped himself up on his elbows, previously lying on the couch in the, you believed, most normal position you had ever seen him.

You approached him, all the eyes were on you just like moments before, and you were sure you were also metaphorically reconnecting with his dark nature. Or was it really dark? Didn't you make that up?

While Remus's face showed veiled concern, you sat on the floor in front of the armrest. He sat up and looked down on your bleak self, an eyebrow slightly raised.

With your chin buried in your crossed arms on the armrest, you felt the urge to break down to anyone that would just finally, finally and simply listen.

And you didn't even know where to start.

« You were right. » Deceit cautiously came close as you spoke. You noticed him, with the corner of your eye, take a seat on a chair next to you, leaning toward the scene. « I'm just like you. Not worlds apart, nowhere on opposite spectrums. »

Remus shook his head. « What are you talking about? » he whispered, more like a reprimand than a question.

You couldn't help but insist, your eyes started to burn and you realized you were blinking back tears. « You know what I mean. »

Oh, but when did anyone, actually? So gone and lost, so miserable you refrained from ever believing in the others' understanding.

« It just took me longer to come to terms with it. Too long. And now I've messed it up because it's too late to fix this, to fix me. »

« Ro- »

« No! » you buried your face in your arms, nose pressing on soft material. Deep inside, you knew you did that only to suppress the fact that you were on the verge of crying, of showing yourself weak and incapable to get back up on your own. « I am not Creativity! » but you knew hiding it didn't have a meaning anymore.

Your head shot back up and you stared at your brother with a tear-stained face. « You are. More than me. »

« You're saying I should replace you? » Remus's voice sounded offended. No, almost ... hurt.

You nodded, holding your breath to refrain the flood of seemingly nonsensical words from flowing out of your mouth. Or, at least, you tried to do that.

« It's that- » you shuddered. « I haven't been productive in forever, and you're always here having different ideas every single day. »

« My ideas are- »

« It's obvious you're better at this than I am. » you looked down and allowed one terrible thought in your mind. You believed, clouded by your own insecurities, that maybe he should have taken your place. « I should just stay here with you. »

« Don't say that. » Remus got up, his voice a mixture of mortification and annoyance. As he made his way to his room, you couldn't have known how the thought actually completed his sentence. Don't get my hopes up.

You slumped back from the armrest and lowered your head so that you couldn't notice Deceit finally standing in front of you and offering you a hand to get back on your feet.

You looked up.

« I know everyone tells you to be wary of me, but can you trust me this once at least? »

You took his hand.

In a matter of seconds, both of you were sitting on the couch, trying to sort out the thoughts that were piling up in your head.

« I don't think I belong with them. » Deceit had asked you to give voice to your troubles. « I've been the least useful and now Thomas is barely creating content or having ideas. I should be the confident one, I should be comforting him while all I do is ditch everything that comes to my mind. »

« And how does that make you feel? »

« Worthless. » you immediately blurted out. « Futile. Stupid. A waste of space. » the words kept coming in an overflowing self-deprecating chaos. « And the others see it, too. »

Deceit gave you a questioning look and you immediately felt like you said something wrong. « You haven't confronted them about this? »

« It's unimportant. It's simply a fact. They're all too stressed over the issue Thomas is having. »

« They're? You're not including yourself, why? »

« How can I be stressed over something when I'm doing nothing for it? »

The look came again, but this time you felt like he was trying to scan your soul by solely staring in your eyes. You didn't know how much time had passed before he spoke again, but you could have sworn that, for a moment, nothing else around you existed.

« Roman, have you ever thought that you feeling this way might be the cause of Thomas not being productive? »

This time, the confused expression landed on your face. How could that be? No, definitely not. That was not the case. He probably meant that they should get rid of him since he was causing so much trouble, he-

« You've already seen how our behaviour can affect him drastically. If you feel like that, you might be preventing yourself from using your powers fully, thinking it's useless to even try, and thus you're limiting yourself. »

« ... And in doing so I'm limiting Thomas. »

Deceit nodded with the same energy of a person that finally got their point across, the relief and satisfaction of someone that was able to make their interlocutor understand an important topic after hundreds of tries at explaining.

« You are a terrible liar, and I can't believe they haven't realized this yet, but I can't also change the fact that you're an astounding actor. » he sighed, but that line left a sad smile on your lips.

« I'm a man of multiple talents. »

« Also, you don't have to belong anywhere, Roman. Having you here, on a rough time for Thomas, though, I don't believe it would be ideal. » his gaze had fallen to the floor before his voice turned lower. « We're all trying to look out for him, you know. »

That was when your look turned softer and you understood. You started wondering things that weren't meant to be brought up just yet, but that might have been troubling him for a while.

As you were looking for the right thing to say, Deceit gestured for you to follow him to the door he then opened as soon as he was close enough. Out of it, the corridor to the others' and your own rooms.

« Go and tell them. You might spare us some more agonizing days before they figure it out on their own. »

One step out of the room, and you didn't even get the chance to thank him. The door closed behind yourself so quickly you almost believed you had dreamt the entire conversation.

With no time to process it all at once, another figure poke out of a door and pulled you into yet another dialogue.

« Ro? » Virgil rubbed at his eyes sleepily. « What are you doing over there? » there was no accusing undertone, just genuine curiosity. Then again, it might have been the sleepiness, you told yourself.

You approached him. « Just venting. »

« To Deceit? » still no complaining.

« He seemed to be the only one available. »

Virgil nodded, then you could have sworn you had seen a faint nostalgic smile curve his lips. « Good choice. »

« Huh- »

« Why didn't you come to me, again? »

« You were sleeping. »

His mouth, this time, twisted into something more somber. « Roman,» he called, lifting up his gaze. « When I said you could come to me when you needed it, I meant I could make an exception on executing you if you were to wake me up. »

And you didn't know if it was for Deceit's comfort earlier, for Virgil's softer voice or for the general hopefulness you finally regained after seeing a flicker of light coming from the end of the tunnel of your insecurities, but you found yourself with your arms wrapped around his chest.

« Oof- alright. » he patted your shoulders a couple of times. « Come on, big guy, let's get the others. I woke up from a three-hour nap and apparently all my problems haven't been solved by some kind of deity yet, so I think we deserve a fucking break. »

You allowed yourself to smile and, this time, you meant it.

« We truly do. »

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commander-krios · 4 years

Note

alexithymia -- helene/zhilae?

Thank you so much for this! It took me a little while to figure out how to weave this into a fic, but I’ve managed. Not only do we get to see Helene destroy Thanaton, but there is some extra background information about my favorite Sith.

Alexithymia – inability to describe emotions verbally

Korriban loomed ahead, the red dust planet bright against the blackness of space. Soon, she would take a shuttle to the planet’s surface. Then she would make her way to the Sith Academy and the Dark Council. It would be there that she would make her last stand against Thanaton. The confrontation was months in the making, ever since he tried to have her killed.

Helene Zythor didn’t like it when people tried to kill her.

Clipping her lightsaber to her belt, she tried to clear her mind, knowing that doubt and fear would not help her in this situation. In order to defeat Thanaton, she had to feed her anger, make it a buffer against whatever he threw at her. He was a powerful Sith, that was well known. He wouldn’t be on the Dark Council if he wasn’t. However, Helene believed herself stronger. And she would prove it.

Exiting her quarters, she found Talos Drellik reading in the common area, his eyes on the datapad in his hands. She watched him for a moment, intrigued by how focused his attention was on whatever he’d discovered. Mostly likely it was some fascinating relic that would undoubtedly make a great contribution to the Sith.

Walking by Talos without a word, she entered the cockpit, not surprised to find Andronikos at the helm. He was finishing the docking sequence, completely engrossed in the process. He hadn’t noticed the Sith Lord standing beside him at first. When he realized he wasn’t alone, the pirate glanced up with wide eyes.

“How long have you been standing there, Sith?” He snapped, turning back to the control panel in front of him. “I’m trying to keep the ship in position so we won’t be splattered against the docking bay. Do you mind?”

Helene bit back the smile that hovered on her lips. She’d never let Andronikos know how amusing she found him. “This is my ship, unless you forgot. Don’t make me regret not killing you.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing the threat for what it was. Nothing but smoke. “I might have believed that months ago, but you’d never do it now. You like me too much.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Revel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go away so I can do my job.” The pirate turned away from her, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

If he’d done that earlier in their journey, she might have shocked him until he begged for mercy. Now, she just laughed under her breath and walked away. Her mother might’ve said she was weak for letting others treat her so familiarly. Helene knew weakness came from many places, but having allies, having friends, didn’t make one weak. It made them infinitely stronger. It gave a person something to fight for.

Barely any time had passed before Helene was stepping on the dusty planet. She’d started her training on Korriban and now here she was, intending to challenge a Darth to battle for their lives. How the times had changed…

Flanked by two of her most trusted allies, Helene walked with purpose towards their destination: The Sith Academy. The foreboding building loomed ahead, dark towers and crimson banners austere against the orange tone of its surroundings. She hesitated only a moment, memories of the awful trials she’d faced flashing through her mind at the sight of the academy. There was once a time, when she was a small child, that the sight of the Sith Academy had excited her. She had dreams of attending, of becoming a formidable Sith like her mother…

But dreams die when reality sets in.

A movement at her side drew her gaze from the building. Golden eyes met hers and Helene immediately felt calm, all worries and terrible memories gone from her mind in less than a second. The bounty hunter anchored the emotions that warred within, helping her find focus and bringing some much needed happiness to her tumultuous life. While it scared the shit out of her to need someone so desperately, Zhilae’s affections made it almost welcome.

“I better not be seeing you doubt yourself, Helene. Not now.” Zhilae said, reaching forward to brush a finger lightly over the Inquisitor’s scrunched brow. “Not ever.”

Xalek, one of Helene’s apprentices, stood resolute beside the Pureblood, silent as he usually was, but the fierce look in his eyes was just as loud as if he’d spoken his agreement.

Unable to help herself, Helene smiled at Zhilae’s words. “I couldn’t doubt myself even if I wanted to. Not with you around. It’s part of the reason I hired you.”

Zhilae chuckled, leading the way to the Sith Academy. “I thought it was because of my good looks.”

Helene rolled her eyes and followed, knowing that the woman was partially right. There was nothing unattractive about the kind of woman Zhilae Mirai was.

…..

The tall doors of the Dark Council chamber may have stood closed before them, but Helene could clearly hear the echoes of conversation. It didn’t take more than a single guess to figure out who was addressing the Council. With a nod toward her companions, Helene pushed the large double doors open, entering the room as Thanaton finished his speech.

Many of the Council’s members were Sith Lords she did not know. Old, wise, and powerful Sith that had been there for decades, maybe longer.

“Order must be preserved. Punishment meted out.” Thanaton’s strange eyes glanced quickly in her direction before returning to those he addressed. These men and women were his colleagues and yet, he seemed small and insignificant when held up against them. “If we are to conquer our enemies, Zash’s former apprentice must die.”

Helene laughed, unable to help herself. The sound drew the attention of everyone in the room. “Should I be flattered that you talk about me to all of your friends, Darth Thanaton?”

“This discussion concerns the future of the Sith Empire… a future that you are not part of.”

One of the Council leaned forward, sneering as he spoke. “Then why haven’t you killed her yet, Thanaton?”

Helene could see the anger beneath the calm mask he wore. She knew if she prodded in just the right place, it would slip and he would go on the offensive. With both the power of the Force ghosts and the aid of her friends, she would be unbeatable. She knew this as she met her enemy’s gaze. Thanaton was worried. It was almost too easy.

“There are traditions that must be met. Preparations-”

“Traditions aside, you still haven’t answered the question. Why do you find it difficult to kill this child?” Darth Marr was the former master of Helene’s mother. Acantha Zythor and Darth Marr had worked together so often that Marr had become a constant in Helene’s life. Seeing him as he was to the rest of the Empire was strange indeed.

Helene stepped forward to address the Council, her eyes focused on Marr. He obviously possessed the most power “Thanaton is weak. He’s had every opportunity to kill me and has failed. He doesn’t deserve to sit on the Council with Lords such as yourselves.”

“Enough!” Thanaton bellowed, turning his rage on Helene. “I will destroy her and then the rest of you will answer for your betrayal.”

Everything moved fast after that. Their battle, Thanaton’s death, her ascension to the Dark Council, her title… She hadn’t expected anything after she claimed her revenge. But now she was Darth Nox, keeper of Sith artifacts and history.

Eyes trained on the chairs that dominated the room, Helene quietly stood in the center of the empty Council circle, Thanaton’s body left forgotten on the floor. Now that he was dead, he was an afterthought. There was still the problem of his loyal followers and how they’d be dealt with, but that was a worry for later, once the shock wore off.

Xalek had returned to the ship to inform their companions of the situation, leaving Helene to admire the Council chambers. Zhilae stood a few feet from her, arms crossed over her chest and a grin on her face. The Sith turned to the bounty hunter, unable to stop her responding smile.

“So… a Darth?” Zhilae mused, eyes taking in the sight around them. “And the Dark Council? Does that mean I get a pay raise?”

Helene chuckled quietly, crossing the small distance that separated them. Laying a hand on Zhilae’s arm, the Sith smiled with a mischievousness that only promised much more fun for them. “Would a promotion suffice?”

Zhilae dropped her hands to Helene’s waist, taking her tiny yet insanely powerful human lover into her arms. “Promotion, huh? The perks would need to be tempting.”

Helene stood on her toes, running her lips along strong cheekbones. She wanted to say so many things to Zhilae, but no words would be able to describe the things she felt. Instead, she kept it simple. “Oh, believe me. You won’t find a better offer.”

Zhilae pressed an affectionate kiss to Helene’s forehead, lingering briefly at the shock of electricity that still pulsed through the Sith Lord’s skin. It was intoxicating to feel the power in that small package. “I know.”

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kshitij1997 · 4 years

Text

Welcome back!

Well, the die has been cast, and Europe shall endure the consequences. Or will it?

Onward with the story :)

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney. All I own is this retelling and some original characters.

Chapter 10: Felino the crooked nose

February the 5th, 1828,

‘You’re a frigid, wormy piece of shit, you know that?’, growled the recently anointed Tsar at the Arendellian Monarch. Not a good sign for the conference the concert of Europe had arranged; the Monarch of Arendelle was hellbent on closing his country yet again, and no one was willing to budge on their stance.

‘I care not for the impression you choose to have about me, your majesty. I have my reasons and my fears to support my decision. I have to do what I feel is best for my kingdom, as would you if you faced a decision of a similar magnitude.’ Agnarr stated his position calmly, even as he felt no genuine respect for the Russian Monarch. Unlike his late brother, Tsar Nicholas the first had no great capacity for empathy and understanding. He had chosen to keep himself and his people ignorant. After all, what could one say of the sovereign who treated his highest officials and closest advisors like the serfs he saw them to be, and the holy synod under him bragged openly about how it was their god given duty to keep the downtrodden as they were. Oh, how their man, Sergei Uvarov, the Tsar’s minister of education, openly declared: “If I can extend Russia’s childhood another fifty years I will consider my mission accomplished.”

Oh, the Tsar saw himself as a god, and a jealous one at that. Agnarr understood that and knew that as a fellow sovereign, the Tsar could do little but rant in his face for the insult. Even if he would want to wage war upon Arendelle, he wouldn’t wish to give up access to the only warm water seaport he had. Still, Agnarr’s worries were far greater than some disgruntled people in power.

Elsa had lost control of her powers and was crippled in her fear, Anna had been forced to selective amnesia from Grand Pabbie, leaving no trace of Elsa’s powers and Olva...well she hadn’t been so fortunate. Against the advice of Grand Pabbie, he and Iduna had insisted on the procedure of wiping her memory clean of Elsa’s powers and the accident. The hermit warned of the consequences he was facing now with Olva, but how was he to know in his panic and desperation? Now the poor girl had begun experiencing fits and severe headaches, along with bouts of fainting for several minutes. He hadn’t slept this past month properly in the worry of what could happen to his family. Now he had a solution, and he would not back off from it. He must protect his family in any way possible. He must.

‘Your majesties, please don’t antagonise each other. This concerns all of us. You’re not the only ones troubled here. King Agnarr, you’d best explain yourself.’, queen Sophia spoke firmly as she presided over the conference. Agnarr’s declaration had shocked everyone, and he was yet to provide an explanation.

‘Thank you, queen Sophia. I have no intent on stepping on anyone’s face or insulting anyone. This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.

And before you decide on persecuting war against me, ask yourselves this. Haven’t we had enough of war? We saw 2 decades of war followed by a decade of relative peace. If you ask me, I’d rather prefer the latter. I make this tough choice for the safety of all Europe, please understand.’

He paused to size up the room, who could be his allies and enemies hereafter. Corona and Austria-Hungary were definitely his allies; he knew Reginald would support him in the end. Weselton and the English would be against it; his partnership with them and America would be at risk, he’ll have to accommodate them somehow. Same was the situation with Russia. Maybe the Ottomans had to be brought in to keep Russia in check? Spain and the Southern Isles could be neutral; the Spanish could not care less, their main rivals were the English and the French, they would only vote as a formality. As for the Southern Isles were represented by queen Paulina, for the king had taken ill. On the surface, Paulina looked pleasant and charismatic, yet Agnarr knew that she would be a formidable and dangerous foe if he didn’t play this right. He began to speak again but was rudely interrupted.

‘And what would be these insurgent elements? The Northuldra?’, asked the duke of Weselton. The room tensed at the duke’s blatant attempt towards badgering the king of Arendelle. Agnarr had to fight a very strong impulse towards bashing the duke’s head on the wall. After composing himself mentally, he replied with barely concealed intentions ‘Why, yes. They have been neglected for far too long. I must attempt to bring them up with the kingdom. They are too obscure and are getting discontent.’

‘Just the language your father used, didn’t he? And where is he now? Lost like the rest of them. I’m telling you; this country is a lost cause. The Northuldra are ‘discontent’? Don’t make me laugh. They’re out for your and your family’s blood. They have been for years.’, the duke was clearly enjoying himself at Agnarr’s expense.

‘And if I hope to pursue a peaceful solution and keep Europe out of the mess, what is so wrong with that, duke?’, Agnarr nearly spat out the last part.

‘It’s always something personal. What, a problem with your kids now?’

‘Why, your uncouth son of a-‘

‘ENOUGH!’, the presiding queen roared. ‘That’s the second time you have tried to lay discord in the concert on purpose, duke. Once it was over my kidnapped child and now this. I swear, if it happens again, you’re going to meet your maker without warning, in front of everyone!’

‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about your bloody kid. She’s fucking dead! I always get enraged how the kings of Europe are disturbed about such trivial matters, and I’m to be punished because I call out the bullshit for what it is?! Fine. Hang, draw, and quarter me all you want, that does not change the fact that once again, some people are sullying the good name of the concert for their own interests.’, the duke spat venom without a care.

‘I’ve heard enough. Marshals, break the duke’s kneecaps.’, an enraged Sophia gave the cold order to her personal guard. The duke’s bravado melted away instantly, and he shrunk in his stature as the marshals came to deal with him.

‘Sophie, stop!’ King Reginald shouted.

‘Pray tell, what now, Reginald?’ his spouse was beyond annoyed by now.

The king of Corona whispered in his spouse’s ear ‘We’ll get the coward some other time. I need to talk sense into Agnarr somehow. I advise you to break for recess.’ A rare sight for the usually tempestuous king to calm down his calmer, more pragmatic wife.

Queen Sophia sighed heavily and announced a recess.

Once they were alone, Reginald confronted Agnarr ‘What’s gotten into you, Agnarr? You’re supposed to be the sensible one amongst us two.’

‘I’ll tell you what’s sensible. I should invade the fucking duchy of Weselton, lay it to fucking waste, burn it to the fucking ground, and salt the fucking remains barren forever!’ Agnarr snarled with uncharacteristic murder in his eyes.

‘Oh, calm down, crusader. I hate the duke much more than you do, believe me. Nevertheless, even I must agree with that poltroon over your course of action. It’s drastic and uncalled for. Tell me honestly what’s bothering you. We’ll make it right. Tell me.’

‘You don’t believe me? I told you every reason I have for doing this. My kingdom has only just recovered from the previous war. I can’t risk another. I certainly can’t afford it to become a pan-European conflict. At the end of the day, I just want my heir to inherit a stable state. An agitated group of people is not the hallmark of a stable state. Even if it takes me years, I must resolve this once and for all.’

Reginald spoke empathetically ‘Alright, but it still is a visceral reaction to the situation. I think foreign aid would only help more. Are you sure about it?’

Agnarr thought about telling the truth to his best friend, but ultimately decided otherwise; he couldn’t let the secret get out in any circumstance.

‘Yes I am. I also believe that those so-called insurgents are supplied by foreign powers themselves; they would like nothing more than to make my kingdom their colony. And that fucking Weselton shill... I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind the whole damn thing.’

‘That may be true, but without solid evidence, we can’t deal with him effectively. We must be sure.’ Reginald advised him.

‘Alright, but I can’t back down from my position. Yes, my kingdom will suffer in the short run, but I know we’ll be secure and united eventually.’

Ultimately, the concert decided that Arendelle would only keep one point of access open to the outside world; the main port. Only diplomats and special traders would be allowed. Every other traveller, from tourist to student would have to be barred from entering the country. It may cause uprising among the international students in his kingdom, but he’ll have to deal with them on his down. To preserve the security, the red tape for the traders and businessmen became very harsh. All, in service towards protecting my family; Agnarr thought.

A week later

A craven figure along with half a dozen guards floated in a rowboat towards one of the northern shores of Arendelle, beyond the mist. A hooded figure in silhouette waited for them on shore, heavily dressed to protect them self against the bitter February cold. Upon reaching the shore, the hooded bowed in respect and said ‘Welcome, honourable duke of Weselton. I hope your journey was pleasant enough.’

‘As pleasant a trip I could hope in stormy, waning winter, thank you for asking.’, the duke removed his cloak and coat to make his face more visible, and gestured his guards to disembark and stand around. The scrawny man took a moment to stretch himself, and at length, spoke ‘How many instances of forbidden people wandering into your grounds?’

‘Not as many as before, however a group of the Iceni tribe were intercepted in the valley of death during patrol two months ago and dealt with without exception. No survivors that we know of.’

‘Good, the illegals are dwindling, soon they would be no problem. However, as long as Arendelle stands, you’ll never be safe. We’ll have to confront them once and for all.’

‘Let’s continue our discussion on the way to camp, honourable duke.’

The Northuldrian camp was twenty-five kilometres inland from the seashore, but the spirits had grown very erratic in recent years, so the Northuldra had to find new routes to their homes every few weeks. The latest incident was particularly severe; a landslide had destroyed the usual detour they took, so they had to take the tributaries by another boat, a slower but safer way of travel.

‘Forgive me, honourable duke. I know travel by water does not agree with you.’

‘I’ll live. Tell me, how is everything holding up north of the mist?’

‘We’re eking out a living somehow. As you know, the rivers have been gradually changing course towards the south, our arable lands are going barren as a result. Adding to the problem, the rains are becoming scarcer with every passing year bit by bit. I regret to inform you that the poppy plantation is facing a loss, the raw material for the heroin would be short this time.’

‘It seems you’ve lost the plot, haven’t you? How will I get you your weapons if your end of the bargain is low? Weapons, armament, lumber and steam technology for ships don’t come cheap, you know?’ the duke said with the faux humility that masked grave threats underneath, and the hooded figure knew well what those threats were. Nevertheless, a low yield was not the biggest problem.

‘There’s more, honourable duke. Arendelle has tried to sue for peace and is willing to cooperate.’

‘Yes, I heard. We both know it’s nonsense.’

‘I’m not so sure. The terms they have offered seem rather reasonable.’

‘I’m sure they are. They may be too reasonable, I’m afraid. Implying something between the lines. The implication being disastrous for the Northuldra. If you ask me, I would never take any terms Europe offers at face value.’

‘I’m a fair sceptic of the south, just as you are. But since the rise of the mist, they have not engaged in any big skirmishes.’

The duke sighed and said ‘It pains me to say it, but you lack an ocean of imagination. There are uncountable ways to fight a war of attrition, and Arendelle has chosen the most insidious way.’

‘What do you mean, duke?’

‘I’d rather tell this to everyone at once, instead of making it a poor game of translation errors.’, with that, the duke fell silent, knowing full well that the hooded figure’s doubts had been flared up.

After a voyage of two hours, the party reached the camp. A huge crowd had gathered upon the riverbank where the canoe stopped. The hooded figure removed his hood and stood beside the Northuldra leader as her most trusted vassal. The Northuldra leader went by the name of Yelena, a woman moving towards middle age, standing barely above the duke in stature, but those aged eyes had seen many ups and downs. The leader slightly prostrated herself before the duke; the Northuldra way of showing respect towards authority.

‘Welcome, o duke! I hope your voyage was pleasant.’

‘As much as I could hope it to be. I must say, the Northuldra’s native lands grow more beautiful every time I venture up’ the duke said.

‘Your grace flatters us. I believe my trusted vassal has given you the lowdown for everything that has happened in the past three months. We’ll be happy to discuss a compromise for the goods you need.’

‘Thank you, your excellency. However, my worries include the survival of the Northuldra as well.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You may have received terms from the king of Arendelle for a peaceful cessation in the past few days, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, they are more reasonable than I expected.’

‘I feared so, for if you paid attention, you’d realise that the terms are too positive. They’re willing to overlook the massacre of the group of Iceni that happened two months ago. Not to mention the fact that they may have stumbled about the truth about our trade operation as well.’

‘Speaking of the trade operation, what we may be short of in terms of goods, we’ll make up in plunder in the North Atlantic. I have sanctioned three fleets for the same purpose later this week.’

‘That is encouraging, but I must warn you, the plundering operation would become very difficult very soon. What with the king of Arendelle sealing the kingdom’s maritime and overland borders.’

‘Excuse me, come again?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘No, I didn’t. Please enlighten us, your grace.’

‘Well, your excellency, the king of Arendelle has decided to isolate the country, and I quote his speech: “This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t, then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.” Now you tell me, is this the language a man would use while suing for peace?’

Yelena became quiet for a moment, taking in al the information. At length, she asked ‘What are the possible ramifications of this declaration?’

‘They could be numerous, but I’ll tell you the most obvious one. Within a month at the latest, the coasts would be dotted by the Arendellian navy, putting a blockade through which nothing except their own ships could get in or out. You can imagine they would be only too happy to hunt down your pirate ships before you’re able to secure any loot at all. You can’t raid through the land, as the mist is your most powerful jailer. It will surely be a stifling experience; I won’t deny it.’

‘What if we do sue for peace? If we sincerely send an envoy to the south?’

‘Aye, you could try that. In fact, I suggest you try that without fail.’ Interrupted a tall, dark man as he made his way inside Yelena’s tent.’

‘Mathias, just because the mist forces me to tolerate and learn to like your presence doesn’t mean you interrupt me in meetings about the matters of state.’ Yelena bristled with annoyance.

‘Believe me, once the mist lifts up, I’ll ride south, first thing on my to-do list.’

‘Mathias, you look familiar. Tall, dark, muscular, good posture. Does your Ethiopian father still till the grain and tan the leather shoes?’, making harsh, cutting remarks was a talent the duke used well.

‘No. Does the honourable duke take me for his wretched bastard slaves in the Congo?’ Mathias growled.

‘Gentlemen, please. Your grace, please don’t mind Mathias. Yes, he’s a southerner. He was in king Runeard’s personal guard from what I gather. He may look brutish and imposing, but he’s harmless and dare I say, a halfway decent man. He doesn’t usually interrupt one of my meetings, so this instance must be special. Tell us big boy, what should bother us?’ Yelena finished as she turned to Mathias.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not willing to entertain the stories of a deserter.’, the duke said nonchalantly.

‘As if your pip squeakiness has ever been in a battle to judge a trapped prisoner of war?’ Mathias seethed.

‘See, even he agrees, we’re at war.’ Oh, they were all playing right into my hands, the duke thought with glee.

‘Yes, and now peace must be made. Yelena, this is not the time to go on the offensive. Trust me.’ Mathias faced Yelena as he settled down beside her.

‘Maybe, but it is a peace we would be forced into. We want it on our own terms, Mathias. I understand you’re homesick, but we haven’t had a home to go back to for decades. We will assert our terms onto the king, and he will have to accept it. If he doesn’t, it’s war.’

‘Lofty words, your excellency. Alas, there’s no substance or weight to back your words. You’ll be blockaded soon, and travel by land is impossible anyhow. I suggest you make a permanent settlement here and be done with it.’, the duke laid the bait.

‘And perpetually disturb the peace of the spirits by claiming their sacred forest? Never.’, and Yelena took it.

‘Well, I can’t negotiate such a big difference in your quantity of goods. You’ll have to offer me something if I must continue supporting your struggle. What about lumber from the forest?’

‘You must be reading a fucking comedy. When we refuse to make a permanent settlement in the forest, YOU PROCEED TO SUGGEST SOMETHING FAR WORSE?!’, Mathias had half a mind to strangle the duke right there, when he was stopped by Yelena.

‘Sit down, Mathias! We’re in desperate times. We’ll have to do what we must in order to survive.’

‘Making a bad situation worse is survival?! Can you imagine or fathom withstanding the rage of the spirits if we cut down the forest?! How can you even consider this, Yelena?’

‘If I may ease your concerns, I’ll vouch for the fact that a sacred relic commands a lot of value in the market. Especially amongst those who are powerful, proud, wealthy and don’t ask too many questions. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll introduce a tiny amount in the market. People would recognize it as sacred or magical with plenty of history behind it. Once I do that, I can manipulate the price for it and bring you all the money, all the weapons, all the ships you need.’, the duke reassured the Northuldra leader.

Yelena spoke at length ‘Alright, I agree to the venture. Let’s begin with ten logs.’

Mathias hung his head in defeat and nursed his forehead, which had begun to throb. This is not going to end well.

Yelena tried to comfort him after the duke left ‘Listen, for every tree we cut down, we’ll plant ten, I promise.’

‘Even if you do that, it won’t be the sacred forest of the fifth spirit anymore.’ Mathias said ruefully.

As the duke made his way to the ship waiting off the coast on his rowboat, one of his taciturn guards asked him ‘Your grace, why do we need these bunch of sheep worshippers?’

The duke grinned darkly ‘When a rival nation is at war with itself, best let it consume itself.’

Around the same time, somewhere in northern Greece

‘Rider, move your ass and get over here!’ A portly man called out as he wiped a greasy hand on his apron.

‘Coming, Elios!’ Flynn came running in. He was now a man of seventeen; having seen a fair bit of the world by now and had been working with Elios for a few months. Elios had hidden Flynn to save him from ‘The Hawk’, a notorious smuggler who had trapped him in his ring. In return, Flynn agreed to work for him in his front business.

‘Why must I go through this fucking chore every time? To have to call you up like a fucking parade float to just do your blessed job?’

‘I’m sorry for being two minutes late. I already did the prep for tonight; the bar has been cleaned and stocked. I just took a nap, calm your tits.’

‘I’ve heard that many times, give me something new Flynn’ Elios rolled his eyes.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Making merry around the city square? Come on, I know better than that.’

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I swear, one of those women is gonna make you the sacrificial goat someday.’

‘Alright, I heard your speech. Got it, can we move on?’

Elios wiped some sweat off his forehead and asked, ‘You know who’s coming tonight?’

‘Yeah I do, friends loyal to the Greek cause.’ Flynn answered without faltering

‘Not just any friend, mind you. The Gent is coming along with the Sicilians.’

Flynn’s ears perked up at that piece of news. The Gent was a legend in Northern Greece, almost singlehandedly forming the on-land resistance against the Ottomans in the Greek war of independence. He had been involved in the resistance for nearly seven years now and was lobbying for foreign support.

‘Wow, that’s a hero if I ever saw one.’

‘I told you I’ll introduce you to him soon. Today’s the day.’

‘Now, why would he visit an affluent restaurant filled with Turks day in and out, I’m sure I don’t know.’ Flynn stated incuriously.

‘Hey Flynn, let his people worry about it. I’m sure his people would be clever enough to figure it out.’ Elios was a practical man who knew the streets well, however, forethought was not his strongest suit.

‘No, Elios. Hear me out. If the Gent is ambushed here, we’re done for. Everything will be up for grabs and I know neither of us would like the prick of the cold sabre chopping our necks. And if we know The Gent is coming, the officials certainly know. And if the Sicilians find out, you’ll end up wearing concrete shoes, old boy. You may know the gutters and the roads, but I know loyalty.’

‘What do you suppose we do now? We can’t really serve them in public view.’

‘That is true. Tell you what, let’s clear the cellar for their dinner. I’m sure they don’t want any outsider to hear what they are discussing amongst themselves. Also, I think you should serve them personally, Elios.’

‘No can do. I’m the front. If I don’t stay there, they’ll investigate. You’ll have to serve them yourself. I’m sorry Flynn. The Gent trusts me, if he sees that I consider you worthy, he’ll be comfortable.’

But I don’t know the first thing about him and the others. What if I offend them without meaning to?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Flynn. We both know you know better than that. If the service is good, they’ll fill your pockets with enough dosh to set you up for years. If I truly know you, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.’

‘Alright, I’ll do it. Say Elios, what if I warm them personally first about the last-minute change of scenery?’

‘No. I’ll have to warn them myself. Set the cellar up. I did contact them two days ago; I’ll do it again.’

‘Just make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Hey Rider, who knows the street better?’

‘You do, clearly.’

‘Yup. I’ll be back soon.’

A few hours later, a party of people showed up. There was the Gent, a tall slender man, worn down by the hiding and fighting. His face was warm enough, save for the green eyes that could bore holes through the Earth, and a crooked mouth that had a scare across the top lip. Still, he felt like a man who could fight forever. As for the Sicilians, they were something else entirely.

It was a band of seven people. The man most fancily dressed, along with the ruby ring on his little finger and the gold watch and chain, was obviously the leader. The six were presumably his bodyguards, each one burlier and more imposing that the last, looking like killers happy to kill a priest in the middle of a sermon. Ruthless and royal. Dressed to the nines up to their plug caps.

Flynn suddenly felt dwarfed and puny.

‘Gentlemen, this is Flynn, he’s been working with me for a few months, he’ll be serving you tonight.’ Elios gave a short introduction and left. Flynn gave a short bow, not sure how to address these powerful men.

‘What’s your name, green boy?’ The Gent asked.

‘Flynn.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Going to be seventeen next month.’

You’re not from around these parts, are you? Your accent tells me....Austria Hungary?’

‘No sir, Corona. The Rhinelands, to be exact.’

‘Uh huh. How’d you end up in Greece?’

‘War orphan from the Napoleonic wars, pushed around all of Europe, ended up here.’ By now, Flynn knew the story by heart.

‘My condolences. Ok Flynn, you’re going to undergo something unpleasant. Forgive me, just the nature of these times. I need to be sure of your loyalty.’

Before Flynn could reply, one of the goons was upon him, almost choking him with his weight, pressing down on his spine. Even if Flynn had any wind left him, he couldn’t yell.

‘Answer me, why was the room changed at such short notice?’

‘When the Gent asks, you better fucking answer, figlio di sfagato!’

‘Get off him, let him speak.’ The goon got off at once.

Flynn coughed and gasped for air. When he could breathe normally, he said weakly , ‘Mr. Gent, it was Mr. Elios who suggested it.’ Flynn barely finished his sentence before receiving a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him.

‘That’s a lie. Elios is not that big a thinker. You seem to be smarter than you let on. Why’d you try to protect us from the Turks?’

‘I didn’t want them to kill you here. That would be underhanded and filthy. I’ve heard....heard that you believe in engaging them head on, I didn’t want them to ambush you. You’re a hero around here, would be a shame if I couldn’t do my bit for your cause.’ Flynn was hit yet again by the goon, this time in his nose. Blood had begin ebbing from his mouth and nose.

‘You’ve said enough. I can guess the rest of the story. Either betray the Turks and face the sabre or betray us and face getting shot in the face. Why choose us over them?’

‘I gambled here.....I’d rather be loyal to someone fighting the slavers for freedom than the slaver themselves.’ Flynn braced himself for another hit, but the hit never came.

Instead he could hear a chuckle from the Sicilian leader, who had gestured his goon to stand down. He approached Flynn and held him by the cheek, saying in thick accent, ’Felino. That’s your name from now on. Felino the crooked nose. Drinks on the house, all night. Keep the drinks up, you’ll be richer than the sultan come morning. Good boy.’

The leader, or don as they were calling him now, lightly tapped his cheek and went back to his place, settling down with the Gent and the other goons. Flynn left the room and almost crumpled on the floor. I could’ve died there, he thought for a second. Nevertheless, he composed himself and put on his charm; Felino the crooked nose had a job to do.

Ha, the duke of Weselton’s such a bastard, always stirring up shit wherever he goes lol. I love the potential his character has.

Our Man Flynn is serving the big boys now! What could happen?

Thanks again to those who continue reading this silly story :P

As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!

#frozen #frozenxtangled #frozen tangled #eugene tangled #tangled fandom #tangled fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #frozen fandom #frozen agnarr #agnarr #chief mathias #Yelena frozen 2 #duke of weselton

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ellacrossman96 · 4 years

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How To Stop Divorce In Islam Prodigious Cool Tips

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How To Save A Marriage And Ruin Your Life Ok.ru

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#How To Stop Divorce In Islam Prodigious Cool Tips #How To Stop Divorce Proceedings

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years

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Immune Heart; Chpt.1

The World Today

Prologue

15 years later....

The soft sounds of the forest drew me out of sleep. Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the sight of the branches of the trees covering up most of the dim gray sky. Turning to my left, I saw Jimin still sitting against the tree as he scanned the surroundings, where I left him hours before. He was all grown up now. His hair fell across his structured face, and his shoulders were more full than they were when we were young.

"What time is it?" My voice broke the silence and his gaze shifted towards me. "It's about four maybe." I sat up and rummaged through my backpack. Finding my water bottle, I took a small sip. "We can make it to Diaborough right before trading starts if we leave now." I say to him as I put on the jacket that was draped over me. Jimin nods and stands up, placing his rifle to the side of him. He stretches as I pack up and we put out the embers of our campfire. I slung my larger gun (I think it's an AR-15 or something) over my shoulder with my pack. Jimin picked up his rifle and carried it with him.

We walked in complete silence as the forest slowly got lighter around us. It wasn't uncommon for us not to speak. We trekked through the wilderness on high alert. Each time Jimin thought he heard something behind us, he would bring me a little closer. He was always more cautious than I was.

There was two hours of walking in silence before we broke through the tree line. It was a little brighter, but not much. The sky was usually in a constant overcast creating a dim gray light below the clouds. We could see the scattered buildings of Diaborough about two miles away. "About forty minutes to walk and then we can rest before the stalls open." Jimin said looking at the horizon. I nodded and then moved forward, Jimin following me. My mind wandered to trading as we walked.

On average there were going to be about seven stalls open. Most would be produce and extra materials. We would probably have to pay under the table for more ammunition or look in the black market. We have about ten batteries, four blankets, and probably some lose parts somewhere that could be worth something.

Since the Purification started the world has gone into shambles. Homes destroyed. Economy crashed. Everything shut down. Almost all electricity shut off and few people had running water. Some people stayed on the move, like us, and some stayed put and tried to brave the harsh times. A currency system went out the window and we had to trade and barter for most things now. A few big rebellion organizations still paid in money, but only if you were personally contacted.

"Tate. We're here." Jimin's arm draped itself across my shoulder. The touch brought me out of my thoughts. We walked through the streets of what used to be a town. A few people littered the streets, some setting up shop, some probably finishing up a night watch, and a few drunkards just wandering about. This was no unusual sight. Most places were like this now.

Jimin and I walked up to a vender who had already set up her wares. "Welcome to Diaborough. Although there is not much to welcome to. What can I do for you strangers?" The woman said. Her voice was raspy and her layered clothes, old and worn.

"What can we get for 3 batteries and ten pieces of scrap copper?" A bright smile set on her face. Jimin was busy scanning the area. He kept close by me while I made the deal. "I can give you two cans of food, a water spigot, and one loaf of bread." She presented her offering on the table. I nudged Jimin and motioned to the table. He scanned the objects and then looked at me. He motioned with his fingers and then whispered something in my ear, his hot breath fanning over my cheek. He quickly turned back away and continues surveying the crowd now beginning to form.

"Are you kidding? Do you know how rare copper is? We should at least be getting three cans of food for my price." She looked a little on edge that I wouldn't take her deal. "But young lady, that's why I gave you the water spigot. For travelers like yourselves it is very-" "Yes, we understand that, but this is the last of our copper and we know we can barter it for something more somewhere else." Jimin once again placed is arm protectively over my shoulder and we started to walk away.

"Wait!"

I smirked and turned back around with an innocent smile. "I'll give you two bags of rice and a single piece of information on anything you ask for." Jimin nodded to me. "We'll take your deal." She looked relieved. She put our suppiles in a burlap sack and Jimin took it and exchanged it for our promised price.

"Your friend sure doesn't talk much does he." She said glancing nervously at Jimin. "He is just very protective." She smiled lightly. "What do you want to know?" Jimin looked around and took note of the people near. Pulling me closer, he said in his low soft voice, "Where are Diaborough's underground venders?" A couple of heads turned our way and I reached for the knife under my jacket slowly. The woman brought us in closer. "Oh. The black market. Go down to the docks. Warehouse 47. Just don't tell anyone what you saw there. Nefarious things happen there and I don't want to be part of them."

We nodded and took our supplies. Jimin let go of me and we walked side by side. "You don't have to do that you know." I said quietly. He didn't look over at me, only ahead surveying the crowds. "Do what?" We turned down an alley way and I walked in front of him, leading the way. "You know what I mean. I'm not a child or some flower that needs to be preserved." I said stepping over trash.

With out warning, Jimin had me pinned against the wall. "Tate. We don't know that. What about what happened that night?" His brown eyes bore into me with urgency and concern. "Jimin, I don't want to talk about it." I said trying to get out of his grip. "Tate we will have to talk about it eventually. No one has ever been rejected by an Injector like you have. That means something, Tate." We held a stare for a minute and his grip softened, now gently holding my wrists. "Fine. Until we find out for sure. You can treat me like a damn daisy. Just don't baby me. I could kill you in your sleep." I gave him a smirk over my shoulder as I walked away. "Oh you wouldn't do that to your child hood bestfriend." His melodious laugh filled the small alley as he chased after me.

Soon after we reached the the docks. Rows of warehouses lined the cement strip that dropped off into the bay. "Come on. There is bound to be ammunition somewhere in here." Jimin said. We stood outside the bunker labeled 47. "It's a bigger city, so we don't know what we'll see. Just keep your eyes on ammunition." I nodded and opened the small side door of the warehouse. The stench came first, then the noise. We were surrounded by venders packed together in one large place. Every where I turned there was some table with some dangerous or illegal thing on it. There were four lifted platforms in the building. Each had about forty feet of clear space around them, for people to stand. Usually merchants auctioned large objects off on the stages. Anything from livestock to human labor.

I looked across the tables scanning for ammo and weapons. Maybe a fake ID or two. Those always come in handy. I found a table across from one of the platforms. It had bullets, shells, and a couple of good knives along with some dinky knick knacks.

Jimin was at another table close to me, looking at assorted metal objects. "How much ammunition can I get for thirteen pieces of brass scrap and 4 batteries?" The filthy looking man looked up at me. The sight must have been amusing. My almost small frame being swallowed by my beloved jacket and the pack on my shoulders. "Well, I can give you eleven rounds and two knives of your choice." My eyes fell to a rather decorated wooden box in the corner of the table.

"What's that?" The man cracked a chipped tooth smile. "Well it's an item quite rare nowadays. But for a pretty little thing like yourself, I'll substitute it for one of the knives." He motioned for me to see what was in the box. I picked it up gingerly an opened the lid. Inside were the most vibrant and juice filled strawberries I had ever seen. I couldn't even remember the last time I had fresh fruit. "Deal." The man chuckled delight and took my trade. I chose a knife and took my box, knife, and ammunition. I turned to find Jimin next to me casually listening to the auction.

"You never could resist something hidden or sweet." He said without looking at me. We walked to the edge of the crowd around the stage. "Well what did you get, Mr.Park." He chuckled as I turned to him. "I got a 'new' pot, a couple of razors, and I managed to find some luxury lady items you might need." He said the last part with a chuckle. I elbowed him in the side. "What kind of auction is this anyway?" I still faced him, as he started to hand me the bag of things he got, his eyes still on the stage. "I think it's human labor. Probably some poor souls they took off the streets forced to be sold." I turned to the stage and watched the auctioneer announce the next sale. "Next, another fine worker. He's a strapping young boy about the age of twenty two. His starting bid is 20 brass pieces. Come on, you piece of shit. Get up here."

The man dragged a boy with shaggy brown hair and tattered, old, dirty clothing up on stage. His hands were bound and his head hung low, but you could see the dirt and bruises that lay painfully on his face.

"20 brass pieces for human life, what is this world-"

A glint of silver dangling around his chest caught my eye. It wasn't as clean as I remembered but it looked an awful lot like the necklace that my brother wore the night we tried to escape. It couldn't be. The pendant must be similar, that's all. "Sale number seventy one: Kim Taehyung. Age: Twenty two-"

It seemed the whole room lost all sound after that name was called. My eyes could only be fixed on the figure wearing my brother's necklace. The boy lifted his tear stained face. No it can't be. I saw him flung into a tree. The force would have killed an adult let alone a child. Was looking at the beaten face of my brother?

"Taehyung....."

Masterlist

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aquilaofarkham · 6 years

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morning sun

Alucard can’t believe his eyes. For a moment, he thinks it’s a trick as he stares down from the top balcony. The castle still keeps some magic that hasn’t fully died out and is using it to toy with him. Making his way down the steps, Alucard struggles to remain composed. Please be real. Please let them be real...

“Sypha? Trevor?”

After spending a month as the sole occupant of both Dracula’s castle and the Belmont Hold, Alucard receives a much needed visit from his two closest and most loved friends. Contains major spoilers for episode 8 of Castlevania season 2.

rating: general

word count: 2,536

AO3

Alucard is used to the silence. He had no other choice; it was one or the other. Allow his loneliness and grief to swallow him whole or find comfort in solitude. Every day he loses himself in books, test tubes, and scientific devices, trying to focus his mind on something else. Anything else. A scrap of history thought to have been lost to the ages or a medicine that can cure even the plague. While every night he buries his tearful eyes into his pillow. There are times when the feeling is just as painful as it was that first day alone. Then there are others which are quieter, leaving him numb and disassociated.

It has been like this for nearly a month now. The steps leading up from the Belmont Hold creak every time Alucard puts his foot down. There’s still much work to be done in repairing most of the staircases, but he’s light on his feet. He only needs one to take piles of untranslated books and manuscripts back up to the surface. Alucard finds himself spending more and more time in the library than within the castle. Perhaps because unlike the other, one fills him with happy memories that don’t send aches through his chest.

Upon reaching outside, the dhampir is greeted by a clear blue sky and the smell of rain that’s come and gone. The weeks leading up to spring have always been his favourite. Brighter mornings, softer rains, and the promise of better things to come. Something to look forward to.

Alucard is always in need of things that help him look forward rather than back.

“You think he’d still be there?”

“Why would he not?”

“Well, you know... he could have gotten bored.”

Sypha scoffs. “With all that knowledge surrounding him and with so much to do? I doubt someone like him would get bored so easily. You on the other hand might.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is that why you entrusted him with your own family’s history instead of yourself?”

“It was a gift! You kept telling me to be nicer in the first place.”

They play, they jest, but deep down both Trevor and Sypha share the same fear. That in their absence, their friend has vanished. Wandering just as his father once did or shutting himself off from the outside world. While they were off having adventures they only dreamed about, creating new stories for themselves, they left Alucard to pick up the pieces. Sypha loses sleep over this thought; Trevor mentally tortures himself but doesn’t let it show.

So, as they drive their wagon down a familiar path, the two of them hide their fear behind harmless banter. It works - for now.

The work never seems to end. There’s always something else that needs Alucard’s attention, another antiquity that needs to be preserved, translated, and studied. Even the artifacts that made up his past life hold new discoveries. At least there’s some distraction, no matter how temporary it may feel at the end of the day.

Looking over his newest finding, Alucard can’t help but left out a brief chuckle. He remembers teasing a certain hunter over his family’s affiliation with the occult and magic. Now Alucard has even more proof: a couple of dusty 9th century grimoires as thick as his arm. Though his satisfied glee isn’t out of pettiness.

He barely cracks the spine on one before he hears the massive castle doors open. Despite being tucked away in one of the many studies, he can still sense it. Confusion bubbles up within him, then suspicion.

Then hope.

There’s no need to knock for the doors open all on their own. Sypha looks over at Trevor with their arms full of baskets and parcels. All they can do is shrug and assume the castle must do that for everyone now.

“Anybody home?” Trevor calls out, his voice echoing through the main hall. A much different place than when they last left it. Still empty and quiet, though. Perhaps a bit too empty. Trevor’s stomach feels tight while Sypha’s eyes shift around nervously. Their steps become slower the further they walk.

Alucard can’t believe his eyes. For a moment, he thinks it’s a trick as he stared down from the top balcony. The castle still keeps some magic that hasn’t fully died out and is using it to toy with him. Making his way down the steps, Alucard struggles to remain composed. Please be real. Please let them be real...

“Sypha? Trevor?” His voice shakes as he reaches the bottom step. Sypha is the first to notice him. Discarding everything in her hands, she runs forward. She exclaims his name before colliding into the dhampir, her arms wrapped tightly around his body and her cheek planted firmly against his chest.

“We missed you so much!”The sudden physical contact surprises Alucard, but he doesn’t dare escape from it. He embraces Sypha as closely as she does him.

“I missed you too.” He looks up to see Trevor sauntering towards them, a familiar crooked smile on his lips.

“You’ve redecorated.”

“You combed your hair.”

The two men laugh as though nothing has changed. Suddenly, the castle feels less empty. “Where did you two run off to?”

“Too many places to name at once,” Trevor replies.

“We brought presents!”

“I’d like to hear everything.”

“How much free time do you have?”

Alucard smiles; for them, he has all the time in the world.

“You disguised yourselves as plague doctors?”

“It was the best idea at the time. We needed to get out of the city without the merchants seeing and then chasing us with the tips of their swords right up our arses.”

“I thought you were going to help people.”

“We were helping people!”

“But Trevor, as always, couldn’t keep his mouth closed around the wrong people.” Sypha remarks, taking another sip from her glass. The dining table is a mess of half eaten food, chicken bones stripped of all meat, and unwrapped gifts as fresh wine stains blend with its dark wood. Charming trinkets and clothes from every corner of Wallachia lay scattered amongst the plates and candles.

“Don’t act so innocent, you pissed them off as well.”

Alucard slips another grape into his mouth. He hasn’t talked much since Trevor and Sypha returned, only because he’s far too busy listening to them speak. As soon as all three of them sat down, they bombarded him with stories of their adventures (or rather misadventures). Every person they met, every city they helped, and every evil they stamped out engrosses Alucard. They’ve been filling his head for hours and he hopes it never stops even though it will have to eventually.

“How are the Speakers?”

“They’re all well.”

“Sypha’s quickly become the most popular Speaker in all of eastern Europe.”

“I certainly do not doubt that.”

“Thank you.” Sypha holds her head high, proud and knowing that every bit of praise directed towards her is well deserved. “Although my efforts to keep Trevor out of trouble have been… unsuccessful. Sorry to disappoint you, Alucard.”

“That I also did not doubt. By the way, do you still call him ‘Treffy’?”

Trevor almost chokes on his drink. “You remember that?”

“How could I not… Treffy.”

“Stop that.”

“Come to think of it, it oddly suits you.”

“See?” Sypha side-eyes Trevor with a sly grin. “At least someone agrees with me.”

“I have a chicken bone and I’m not afraid to use it.” Despite his mild annoyance, Trevor laughs alongside his two companions. “So, how goes your new life as scholar and protector?”

Alucard’s smile lessens. He knew that very question would get brought up. He tells them the truth – a gentle version of it. “It’s solitary. But it has kept me occupied. There’s so much hidden within this castle and your family’s hold, I uncover something new every day.”

Sypha’s eyes sparkle with intrigue. “That sounds incredible. You have to show us.”

“She has a point. Why keep all that knowledge to yourself? Why not release out into the world? You’d be doing a lot of people some good favours.”

“I have… considered it. My largest concern is how the larger population will react to such a burst of new information.”

“The Speakers would absolutely welcome it. You should have seen their faces when I told them of what we found in Trevor’s home.”

“But not everyone thinks like you and your family, Sypha. How will humans cope with knowing that the world they live in is dominated by science, magic, and their worst superstitions come to life? Opposing forces coexisting with one another and have been for centuries now. You don’t think people will be overwhelmed, terrified, or even furious?”

Trevor raises an eyebrow. “So, what you’re saying is if people weren’t stupid this wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“Ignorant. Sheltered. Comfortable with beliefs they’ve held for most of their lives. What I’m also worried about is what they’ll do when they eventually realize where this knowledge is coming from.”

Sypha and Trevor are silent. Alucard’s concerns are not unfounded or irrational. They don’t need a reminder of what happened to Lisa and the Belmont family.

“Alucard…” Sypha begins, nervously holding her glass. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course.”

“After everything that’s happened… how do you feel about humanity?”

Alucard doesn’t respond right away – he doesn’t give much of a reaction at all. He thought he had the answer long ago. When it came to humanity at large, he shared his mother’s love and compassion for them. The belief that they were capable of good coupled with the desire to help those who needed it. That compassion remains but it’s since been mixed with different emotions. Suspicion, anxiety, caution. Self-preservation. There were days, painful lonely days, when Alucard wanted to reverse his decision and go back to Gresit.

Then there were the things that stopped him. His books, his work, and the thought of two humans.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. Once again, the gentler truth. The silence of the dining room grows thick with no one knowing what to say next. Until Trevor takes initiative.

“Shall we talk about something else?”

Sypha quickly jumps at the opportunity. She talks about Bucharest and the beaches of the Black Sea, of castle ruins and untouched wilderness. Trevor talks about dancing with her while wearing flower crowns and entertaining Speaker children with stories to keep them up at night.

Alucard, as always, listens.

Dusk comes sooner than anyone expects. The sky turns a warm orange and golden hue while the winds settle down. Alucard stares out the window of his study with a hand resting against his chin. Below sits Trevor and Sypha’s covered wagon just outside the castle entrance. Come morning, they’ll return to it and head off on another grand adventure. Alucard is happy for them; Wallachia seems too small for a Speaker magician and a vampire hunter. Of course he wishes they would stay for a bit longer, but he wouldn’t force that upon them.

“Go to sleep, Trevor.” He says without turning around. “You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow.”

Seconds pass before Alucard hears footsteps coming into the room. “How’d you know it was me?”

“I know everything.” There’s a hint of playfulness in his voice, which amuses Trevor. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“You could say that. All that good food and drink. I also wanted to see what else you’ve done with this place.”

“Really?”

“Actually, I… got lost.”

“Colour me not surprised.”

After Alucard has a good chuckle, Trevor’s expression softens. “It’s good to see you again, you bastard.”

“The same to you as well.” Alucard turns around, expecting Trevor to continue wandering the castle in a confused daze. Instead, he joins the dhampir by the window. “I know I said this before but… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me the Belmont Hold. It doesn’t happen often, and you may not realize it, but you have a hidden skill for generosity.”

“I’m flattered. And you’re welcome. As long as you’ve been keeping it in good shape.”

“I am, there’s no need to worry about that. I’ve spent so many days down there, it truly has become my second home.”

“And the caskets full of vampire skulls don’t bother you anymore?”

“Well… no, they still do. But I should apologize. Your family history is so rich and fascinating, I feel guilty about all the things I said the night we went down there.”

“You’re actually apologizing? I think some dust from the library must have made its way into your brain.”

Alucard rolls his eyes. “Where do you and Sypha plan on traveling to next?”

“We’re not sure. But we have a couple days to figure that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t tell you? We’re staying here for the next little while. You can’t keep that library or laboratory all to yourself forever, you know. And Sypha needs more things to impress the other Speakers.”

Trevor talks about it so casually while Alucard is left wide eyed and stunned. He turns away, his face basking in the sun’s dying light, in case he cannot stop the tears. “Thank you…”

“No need to thank us. Isn’t that what friends d–“ Trevor quiets down as soon as he sees the dhampir trembling. When he carefully places his hand upon his shoulder, his suspicions are proven true. “Um… is everything alright?”

“Yes.” Alucard lifts his head, forcing a smile through the first tears. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’ve never seen you cry. Didn’t think it was possible.”

“It is possible.” More than possible. Despite his weeping, Alucard’s voice remains soft, low, and gentle. “I’ve cried so much, I keep believing that I will drown or drain myself completely dry.”

“What do you cry over?”

“So much… too much.”

As the tears continue, Trevor cups Alucard’s wet cheeks in both palms. He’s never been good at comforting – both Sypha and the dhampir know this all too well – but he can try. He can always try.

“Why are you doing it now?”

“… because I’m happy. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. And I know it will not last, but… I’m sorry.”

Trevor draws Alucard in, letting him rest his face in the crook of his neck. “Stop apologizing. And stop crying, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Always so considerate.” Alucard’s comment resembles something like a laugh and a sob. He clings to the hunter, savouring his warmth for as long as he can. For once, he doesn’t mind Trevor’s musky smell. In a moment, he feels calmer. He can finally breathe easy. His head still feels heavy and when he pulls back, Alucard can’t stop himself from resting his forehead against the hunter’s. Trevor lets him – it’s the least he can do. He just hopes the dhampir doesn’t notice the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“Come on, bat boy. Let’s get you to a bed.”

“Yes, Doctor Belmont.” With his arm around Trevor’s shoulders and the hunter’s arm around his waist, they leave the study, walking out into the hallway.

“Uh… why don’t you lead the way.”

#castlevania #trevor belmont #alucard #adrian tepes #sypha belnades #netflix castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania season 2 spoilers #my writing #*cvfic #no edit because i'm exhausted

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cometsweepandleonidsfly · 6 years

Video

youtube

“Today I come bearing some good news and some bad news for anybody who intends to build their life around your ability to communicate.

So, I want to get the bad news out first so you can be clear. I always like to get the bad stuff upfront, so here it is: Everything around us, including—and in particular the internet and social media—is now being used to erode trust in our institutions, interfere in our elections, and wreak havoc on our infrastructure. It hands advertisers a map to our deepest desires, it enables misinformation to run rampant, attention spans to run short and false stories from phony sites to run circles around major news outlets. We have literally walked into traffic while staring at our phones.

Now the good news: ...Now that I have presented some of the bad news, the good news is that there really is a solution. And the solution is each and every one of you. Because you will become the new editorial gatekeepers, an ambitious army of truth seekers who will arm yourselves with the intelligence, with the insight and the facts necessary to strike down deceit. You’re in a position to keep all of those who now disparage real news, you all are the ones that are going to keep those people in check.

Why? Because you can push back and you can answer false narratives with real information and you can set the record straight. And you also have the ability and the power to give voice, as Dean Bay was saying, to people who desperately now need to tell their stories and have their stories told.

And this is what I do know for sure because I’ve been doing it a long time: If you can just capture the humanity of the people of the stories you’re telling, you then get that much closer to your own humanity. And you can confront your bias and you can build your credibility and hone your instincts and compound your compassion. You can use your gifts, that’s what you’re really here to do, to illuminate the darkness in our world.

So this is what I also know: This moment in time, this is your time to rise. It is.

Even though you can’t go anywhere, you can’t stand in line at Starbucks, you can’t go to a party, you can’t go any place where anywhere you turn people are talking about how bad things are, how terrible it is.

And this is what I know: The problem is everybody is meeting hysteria with more hysteria and then we’re all becoming hysterical and it’s getting worse. What I’ve learned all these years is that we’re not supposed to match it or even get locked into resisting or pushing against it. We’re supposed to see this moment in time for what it is. We’re supposed to see through it and then transcend it. That is how you overcome hysteria. And that is how you overcome the sniping at one another, the trolling, the mean-spirited partisanship on both sides of the aisle, the divisiveness, the injustices, and the out-and-out hatred. You use it.

Use this moment to encourage you, to embolden you, and to literally push you into the rising of your life. And to borrow a phrase from my beloved mentor Maya Angelou: Just like moons and like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, you will rise.

So your job now, let me tell you, is to take everything you’ve learned here and use what you learned to challenge the left, to challenge the right, and the center. When you see something, you say something, and you say it with the facts and the reporting to back it up.

Here’s what you have to do: You make the choice everyday, every single day, to exemplify honesty because the truth, let me tell you something about the truth, the truth exonerates and it convicts. It disinfects and it galvanizes. The truth has always been and will always be our shield against corruption, our shield against greed and despair. The truth is our saving grace.

And not only are you here, USC Annenberg, to tell it, to write it, to proclaim it, to speak it, but to be it. Be the truth. Be the truth.

...

Here and now I believe you have to declare war on one of our most dangerous enemies, and that is cynicism. Because when that little creature sinks its hooks into you, it’ll cloud your clarity, it’ll compromise your integrity, it’ll lower your standards, it’ll choke your empathy. And sooner or later, cynicism shatters your faith.

When you hear yourself saying, “Ah, it doesn’t matter what one person says, oh well, so what, it doesn’t matter what I do, who cares?” When you hear yourself saying that, know that you’re on a collision course for our culture.

And I understand how it’s so easy to become disillusioned, so tempting to allow apathy to set in, because anxiety is being broadcast on 157 channels, 24 hours a day, all night long. And everyone I know is feeling it.

But these times, these times, are here to let us know that we need to take a stand for our right to have hope and we need to take a stand with every ounce of wit and courage we can muster. The question is: What are you willing to stand for? That question is going to follow you throughout your life.

And here’s how you answer it. You put your honor where your mouth is. Put your honor where your mouth is. When you give your word, keep it. Show up. Do the work. Get your hands dirty. And then you’ll begin to draw strength from the understanding that history is still being written. You’re writing it every day. The wheels still in spin. And what you do or what you don’t do will be a part of it.

You build a legacy not from one thing but from everything. I remember when I just opened my school in 2007, I came back and I had the great joy of sitting at Maya Angelou’s table. She hadn’t been able to attend the opening in South Africa. And I said to her, “Oh Maya, the Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy, that’s going to be my greatest legacy.” I remember she was standing at the counter making biscuits, and she turned, she put the dough down, and she looked at me and she said, “You have no idea what your legacy will be.” I said, “Excuse me? I just opened this school and these girls, and it’s going to be … ” And she said, “You have no idea what your legacy will be, because your legacy is every life you touch. Every life you touch.” That changed me.

And it’s true, you can’t personally stop anybody from walking into a school with an assault rifle, nor can you singlehandedly ensure that the rights that your mothers and grandmothers fought so hard for will be preserved for the daughters you may someday have. And it’ll take more than you alone to pull more than 40 million Americans out of poverty, but who will you be if you don’t care enough to try?

And what mountains could we move, I think, what gridlock could we eradicate if we were to join forces and work together in service of something greater than ourselves? You know my deepest satisfactions and my biggest rewards have come from exactly that. Pick a problem, any problem, and do something about it. Because to somebody who’s hurting, something is everything.

So, I hesitate to say this, because the rumors from my last big speech have finally died down, but here it is. Vote. Vote. Vote. Pay attention to what the people who claim to represent you are doing and saying in your name and on your behalf. They represent you and if they’ve not done right by you or if their policies are at odds with your core beliefs, then you have a responsibility to send them packing. If they go low, thank you Michelle Obama, if they go low, we go to the polls. People died for that right, they died for that right. I think about it every time I vote. So don’t let their sacrifices be in vain.

A couple other thoughts before I go. Eat a good breakfast. It really pays off. Pay your bills on time. Recycle. Make your bed. Aim high.

Say thank you to people and actually really mean it. Ask for help when you need it, and put your phone away at the dinner table. Just sit on it, really. And know that what you tweet and post and Instagram today might be asked about at a job interview tomorrow, or 20 years from tomorrow.

Be nice to little kids, be nice to your elders, be nice to animals, and know that it’s better to be interested than interesting.

Invest in a quality mattress. I’m telling you, your back will thank you later. And don’t cheap out on your shoes.

And if you’re fighting with somebody you really love, for god’s sakes find your way back to them because life is short, even on our longest days.

And another thing, another thing you already definitely know that definitely bears repeating, don’t ever confuse what is legal with what is moral because they are entirely different animals. You see, in a court of law, there are loopholes and technicalities and bargains to be struck, but in life, you’re either principled or you’re not. So do the right thing, especially when nobody’s looking.

And while I’m at it, do not equate money and fame with accomplishment and character, because I can assure you based on the thousands of people I’ve interviewed, one does not automatically follow the other.

Something else, something else. You need to know this. Your job is not always going to fulfill you. There will be some days that you just might be bored. Other days, you may not feel like going to work at all. Go anyway, and remember that your job is not who you are, it’s just what you are doing on the way to who you will become.

Every remedial chore, every boss who takes credit for your ideas—that is going to happen—look for the lessons, because the lessons are always there. And the number one lesson I could offer you where your work is concerned is this: Become so skilled, so vigilant, so flat-out fantastic at what you do that your talent cannot be dismissed.

And finally, this: This will save you. Stop comparing yourself to other people.

You’re only on this planet to be you, not someone else’s imitation of you. I had to learn that the hard way, on the air, live, anchoring the news. One night in my twenties, when I first started broadcasting, I was 19, moved to an anchor by the time I was 20. I was just pretending to be Barbara Walters. I was trying to talk like Barbara, act like Barbara, hold my legs like Barbara. And I was on the air, I hadn’t read the copy fully, and I called Canada, Canahdah. I cracked myself up, because I thought, Barbara would never call Canada Canahdah. And that little breakthrough, that little crack, that little moment that I stopped pretending allowed the real me to come through.

Your life journey is about learning to become more of who you are and fulfilling the highest, truest expression of yourself as a human being. That’s why you’re here. You will do that through your work and your art, through your relationships and love.

And to quote Albert Einstein, “Education is what remains after we forget what we’re taught.” You’ve learned a lot here at USC. And when all that you’ve been taught begins to fade into the fabric of your life, I hope that what remains is your ability to analyze, to make distinctions, to be creative, and to wander down that road less traveled whenever you have the opportunity. And I hope that when you go, you go all in, and that your education helps you to walk that road with an open, discerning mind. Discernment is what we’re missing. And a kind heart.

...

So I hold you in the light, and I wish you curiosity and confidence. And I wish you ethics and enlightenment. I wish you guts. Every great decision I’ve ever made I trusted my gut. And goodness.

I wish you purpose and the passion that goes along with that purpose.

And here’s what I really hope: I hope that every one of you contributes to the conversation of our culture and our time. And to some genuine communication, which means, you have to connect to people exactly where they are; not where you are, but where they are.

And I hope you shake things up. And when the time comes to bet on yourself, I hope you double down. Bet on yourself.

#oprah winfrey #usc annenberg #commencement #may 11 2018 #all of this. all of it. every word.

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heartforchrist · 3 years

Text

Teaching False Doctrine about Salvation....

So the other day, I drifted off into thoughts about salvation. What are the “requirements” to be saved. From others that I have spoken to and searching out different Ministries it was split in what one must to to be truly saved. Many stated that not only do you have to accept Jesus Christ but you must be born again through baptism to finalize your salvation, others stated that through faith and grace alone you are saved. I have researched like crazy to see what was true and what was false doctrine. After a 3 day fast and prayer, my spirit had been led to some very interesting scriptures that tell you the truth. However, if your not looking for the answer it blends in and the truth is either hidden in between the lines, or its all ran together and not actually seen. One reason why I cannot stand reading only one verse of the bible and not the whole chapter, things can be taken out of context in just one word.

After reading and hearing several different “expert” opinions I began to worry, not for myself. because I have been baptized and have faith (the critical portions of salvation, )I began to worry about my younger daughter. She does not live with me. I know she believes and when I have the opportunity to go and see her, I partake in communion with her, and we always spend at least 10 minutes in prayer and talking about Jesus during our visit. However. she is not baptized. My concern turned to fear, if our Heavenly Father where to come today would she go to heaven, despite the fact that she is not baptized. What about my step-daughter who had passed away did she indeed go to heaven? Of course my mind ran with even deeper thought about those who finally found and accepted Jesus Christ and died before there baptism (maybe they were on there way to the baptism and was in a fatal car accident.) What happens to them? Then, I felt as if the holy spirit posed this question to me, what about the thief on the cross? So many questions and so many grey answers. So lets begin. Hopefully after this study It gives clarification on what the true written word of God says about salvation using only biblical scripture, because no matter what, if its not in the bible its false doctrine. I will be sure to include all scriptures so that you too may do your own continued study Lets begin.

First of all lets go over the definitions of what salvation and born again means.

Salvation- 1.)preservation or deliverance from harm, ruin, or loss.

2.)deliverance from sin and its consequences, believed by Christians to be brought about by faith in Christ.

Born Again- (of a person) converted to a personal faith in Christ (with reference to John 3:3

Now that we know what these 2 words mean lets open the bible and dive in to the word God.

John 3

3 There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews:

2 The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him.

3 Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.

4 Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother's womb, and be born?

5 Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.

6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.

7 Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again.

8 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.

9 Nicodemus answered and said unto him, How can these things be?

10 Jesus answered and said unto him, Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things?

11 Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness.

12 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?

13 And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven.

14 And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up:

15 That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.

16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.

18 He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.

So Here Jesus is speaking with Nicodemus in a secret meeting late at night explaining to him the way man is to be saved and have eternal life. The highlight of this scripture that most use to justify that you mut be baptized to be born again is vs 5 “Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.”

Lets look at this since this is the strongest argument that most Christians use regarding baptism saves. We must put ourselves in Nicodemuses shoes. Yes he is a teacher and should be very wise in the word and have understanding correct? Not really, as you can see he is quite confused when Jesus makes this statement. However, the statement that Jesus made was to give Nicodemus an understanding he could relate to. Nicodemus asked him, we have to go back into the womb and be born again?

So lets get the understanding the way it was meant:

5 Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.

6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.

So when Jesus is explaining that he must be born of water, he is not saying he must be baptized, he is stating he must be born from the womb. Flesh is flesh, he must be human; being of flesh the 1st birth from the womb in water. He goes on to say once the Flesh is born the 2nd birth (born again) takes place. The second birth is being born into the holy spirit.

8 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.

The explanation of this is Faith. Whoever believes in Christ is born again unto the spirit. The wind blows we can feel it, you can hear it but we don’t see it we know its there because we believe it is but we have never ever seen wind, just like the holy spirit. This is backed up by the scripture 11 “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness.12 If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?”

To believe in the Lord Jesus Christ is your salvation, is the rebirth. Believing in him is being born again, not baptism. Nothing in this chapter says you must be born in flesh be baptized and believe in him in order to be saved. He explicitly states 16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.” So It has been made clear that believing in him through faith you will be saved. Now lets go on there’s still so much to cover.

So since we touch on Baptism lets find out why then people think that you must be water baptized to be saved.

Acts 2

38 Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.

(*Again I stress that when you read a scripture read the whole thing from the start of the chapter to the end. I cannot stress this enough. If we pick and chose single scriptures of course it can fit the purpose that you intend on using it for and then that can get you in trouble because then it is teaching false doctrine.)

So Peter is telling everyone to repent, be baptized and you will receive the holy spirit. So lets look at the begining of this chapter.

2 And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place.

2 And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting.

3 And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them.

4 And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.

The baptism that Peter is speaking of is not a water baptism, it is the baptism of the holy spirit and the gift from the holy spirit was tongues. How can I be so sure of this. First of all he does not say repent and be water baptized (which when discussing water baptism the bible does distinctly define this throughout the bible.) he says repent (ask for forgiveness) be baptized ( with the holy spirit) and receive the gift of the holy spirit (speaking in tongues) to be saved. In addition if you notice when reading the full context of the scripture it also says 39 “For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call.40 And with many other words did he testify and exhort, saying, Save yourselves from this untoward generation.41 Then they that gladly received his word were baptized: and the same day there were added unto them about three thousand souls.” You are probably asking how do I know what baptism they are speaking of, how can I be sure that this is not a water baptism. Lets take a look at

Acts 1 .

1 The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach,

2 Until the day in which he was taken up, after that he through the Holy Ghost had given commandments unto the apostles whom he had chosen:

3 To whom also he shewed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God:

4 And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith he, ye have heard of me.

5 For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence.

6 When they therefore were come together, they asked of him, saying, Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?

7 And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power.

8 But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.

9 And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their sight.

These are the words of Jesus! He is not telling him that they would be baptized with water he is telling him they will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.

Think about this Three thousand souls were added that day because they received the gospel. how then did they water baptize three thousands souls? They didn’t the holy spirit baptized them. As quickly as the destroyer ran through the city killing off the first born; the same with the holy spirit quickly dispersed and baptized these early Christians.

Here one more example of the baptism that Peter is speaking of that shows you saved through your belief of Jesus Christ alone and that water baptism does not save you.

Acts 11

11 And, behold, immediately there were three men already come unto the house where I was, sent from Caesarea unto me.

12 And the Spirit bade me go with them, nothing doubting. Moreover these six brethren accompanied me, and we entered into the man's house:

13 And he shewed us how he had seen an angel in his house, which stood and said unto him, Send men to Joppa, and call for Simon, whose surname is Peter;

14 Who shall tell thee words, whereby thou and all thy house shall be saved.

15 And as I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on us at the beginning.

16 Then remembered I the word of the Lord, how that he said, John indeed baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost.

17 Forasmuch then as God gave them the like gift as he did unto us, who believed on the Lord Jesus Christ; what was I, that I could withstand God?

18 When they heard these things, they held their peace, and glorified God, saying, Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.

We know that they were saved before being baptized because they had received the Holy Spirit, which is the evidence of salvation. Countless passages of Scripture clearly teach that salvation comes when one believes in the gospel, at which time he or she is sealed “in Christ with the Holy Spirit of promise”

The next argument would be Jesus was baptized so we are to be baptized to be saved. First of all why was he baptized? Surely it was not to be saved. Jesus bore no sins. He was perfect. He did not need to be saved, he was sent here to save us. So lets check it out.

11 I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance. but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire:

12 Whose fan is in his hand, and he will throughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.

13 Then cometh Jesus from Galilee to Jordan unto John, to be baptized of him.

14 But John forbad him, saying, I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?

15 And Jesus answering said unto him, Suffer it to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness. Then he suffered him.

16 And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him:

17 And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

John’s baptism was the baptism of repentance, but Jesus was sinless and had no need of repentance. Even John was taken aback at Jesus’ coming to him. John recognized his own sin and was aware that he, a sinful man in need of repentance himself, was unfit to baptize the spotless Lamb of God: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus replied that it should be done because “it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness”

There are several reasons why it was fitting for John to baptize Jesus at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. Jesus was about to embark on His great work, and it was appropriate that He be recognized publicly by His forerunner. John was the “voice crying in the wilderness” prophesied by Isaiah, calling people to repentance in preparation for their Messiah.By baptizing Him, John was declaring to all that here was the One they had been waiting for, the Son of God, the One he had predicted would baptize “with the Holy Spirit and fire”

Jesus’ baptism by John takes on an added dimension when we consider that John was of the tribe of Levi and a direct descendant of Aaron. Luke specifies that both of John’s parents were of the Aaronic priestly line.

Luke 1

4 That thou mightest know the certainty of those things, wherein thou hast been instructed.

5 There was in the days of Herod, the king of Judaea, a certain priest named Zacharias, of the course of Abia: and his wife was of the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elisabeth.

6 And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.

7 And they had no child, because that Elisabeth was barren, and they both were now well stricken in years.

8 And it came to pass, that while he executed the priest's office before God in the order of his course,

9 According to the custom of the priest's office, his lot was to burn incense when he went into the temple of the Lord.

10 And the whole multitude of the people were praying without at the time of incense.

11 And there appeared unto him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense.

12 And when Zacharias saw him, he was troubled, and fear fell upon him.

13 But the angel said unto him, Fear not, Zacharias: for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John.

One of the duties of the priests in the Old Testament was to present the sacrifices before the Lord. John the Baptist’s baptism of Jesus could be seen as a priestly presentation of the Ultimate Sacrifice. John’s words the day after the baptism have a decidedly priestly air: “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

John 1

29 The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.

Jesus’ baptism also showed that He identified with sinners. His baptism symbolized the sinners’ baptism into the righteousness of Christ, dying with Him and rising free from sin and able to walk in the newness of life. His perfect righteousness would fulfill all the requirements of the Law for sinners who could never hope to do so on their own. When John hesitated to baptize the sinless Son of God, Jesus replied that it was proper to “fulfill all righteousness.” By this He alluded to the righteousness that He provides to all who come to Him to exchange their sin for His righteousness.

In addition, Jesus’ coming to John showed His approval of John’s baptism, bearing witness to it, that it was from heaven and approved by God. This would be important in the future when others would begin to doubt John’s authority, particularly after his arrest by Herod. Perhaps most importantly, the occasion of the public baptism recorded for all future generations the perfect embodiment of the triune God revealed in glory from heaven. The testimony directly from heaven of the Father’s pleasure with the Son and the descending of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus is a beautiful picture of the trinitarian nature of God. It also depicts the work of the Father, Son, and Spirit in the salvation of those Jesus came to save. The Father loves the elect from before the foundation of the world. He sends His Son to seek and save the lost; and the Spirit convicts of sin and draws the believer to the Father through the Son. All the glorious truth of the mercy of God through Jesus Christ is on display at His baptism.

So why do we baptize if its not for us to be saved.

18 For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit:

19 By which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison;

20 Which sometime were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water.

21 The like figure whereunto even baptism doth also now save us (not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God,) by the resurrection of Jesus Christ:

Now I know exactly what your thinking; look it says right there it saves us. No actually it doesnt. it says

(not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience toward God,)

Peter clarifies what he means in this verse for us with the phrase “not the removal of dirt from the flesh, but an appeal to God for a good conscience.” While Peter is connecting baptism with salvation, it is not the act of being baptized that he is referring to (not the removal of dirt from the flesh). Being immersed in water does nothing but wash away dirt. What Peter is referring to is what baptism represents, which is what saves us (an appeal to God for a good conscience through the resurrection of Jesus Christ). In other words, Peter is simply connecting baptism with belief. It is not the getting wet part that saves but the “appeal to God for a clean conscience” which is signified by baptism, that saves us. The appeal to God always comes first. First belief and repentance, then we are baptized to publicly identify ourselves with Christ.

The person is saved the moment he places his faith in the Lord Jesus. Water baptism is the visible testimony to his faith and the salvation he was given in answer to that faith. Peter is careful to inform his readers that he is not teaching baptismal regeneration, namely, that a person who submits to baptism is thereby regenerated, for he says, 'not the putting away of the filth of the flesh.' Baptism, Peter explains, does not wash away the filth of the flesh, either in a literal sense as a bath for the body, nor in a metaphorical sense as a cleansing for the soul. No ceremonies really affect the conscience. But he defines what he means by salvation, in the words 'the answer of a good conscience toward God," and he explains how this is accomplished, namely, 'by the resurrection of Jesus Christ,' in that the believing sinner is identified with Him in that resurrection.”

So in order to be saved must you be baptized,,

Although highly important because it is commanded by Jesus Christ

Matthew 28

18 And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.

19 Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:

20 Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.

It does not save you! Only your faith/belief in Christ Saves you.

I too believed that you had to be baptism in order to be saved, I have asked the question to others have you been saved and many of the times and I was met with the response of “I have” or “haven’t been baptized.” Now that I know personally what gets you saved and what doesn’t, I can tell you I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. My heart is at peace regarding my youngest daughter and my step daughter that has already made it to heaven. We are in the end times the Lord is coming to get us very soon, we cannot risk losing any souls for the Lord by not teaching the word of God. We must be watchful of false teachings, false prophets, false doctrines. We must gently steer people in the right direction if they have been programmed to believe anything other than what Jesus has told us. Some do it intentionally, others simply misunderstand all we can do Is know them by their fruit accordingly to Gods word and seek council with the Lord on how to approach those situations. Besides the examples above, here are a few more that show that by grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone you are saved.

Matthew 19

25 When his disciples heard it, they were exceedingly amazed, saying, Who then can be saved?

26 But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.

27 Then answered Peter and said unto him, Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?

28 And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

29 And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.

30 But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first.

Luke 7

44 And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.

45 Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet.

46 My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment.

47 Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.

48 And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.

49 And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also?

50 And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.

Acts 15

5 But there rose up certain of the sect of the Pharisees which believed, saying, That it was needful to circumcise them, and to command them to keep the law of Moses.

6 And the apostles and elders came together for to consider of this matter.

7 And when there had been much disputing, Peter rose up, and said unto them, Men and brethren, ye know how that a good while ago God made choice among us, that the Gentiles by my mouth should hear the word of the gospel, and believe.

8 And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giving them the Holy Ghost, even as he did unto us;

9 And put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith.

10 Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?

11 But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they.

Romans 5

5 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:

2 By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

3 And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope:

5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.

6 For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.

7 For scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.

8 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

9 Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.

10 For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life.

11 And not only so, but we also joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement.

Romans 10

9 That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.

10 For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.

11 For the scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed.

12 For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.

13 For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

Ephesians2

4 But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us,

5 Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;)

Romans 4

8 Blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute sin. 9 Cometh this blessedness then upon the circumcision only, or upon the uncircumcision also? for we say that faith was reckoned to Abraham for righteousness. 10 How was it then reckoned? when he was in circumcision, or in uncircumcision? Not in circumcision, but in uncircumcision. 11 And he received the sign of circumcision, a seal of the righteousness of the faith which he had yet being uncircumcised: that he might be the father of all them that believe, though they be not circumcised; that righteousness might be imputed unto them also: 12 And the father of circumcision to them who are not of the circumcision only, but who also walk in the steps of that faith of our father Abraham, which he had being yet uncircumcised. 13 For the promise, that he should be the heir of the world, was not to Abraham, or to his seed, through the law, but through the righteousness of faith. 14 For if they which are of the law be heirs, faith is made void, and the promise made of none effect: 15 Because the law worketh wrath: for where no law is, there is no transgression. 16 Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace; to the end the promise might be sure to all the seed; not to that only which is of the law, but to that also which is of the faith of Abraham; who is the father of us all, 17 (As it is written, I have made thee a father of many nations,) before him whom he believed, even God, who quickeneth the dead, and calleth those things which be not as though they were. 18 Who against hope believed in hope, that he might become the father of many nations, according to that which was spoken, So shall thy seed be. 19 And being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, when he was about an hundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb: 20 He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; 21 And being fully persuaded that, what he had promised, he was able also to perform. 22 And therefore it was imputed to him for righteousness. 23 Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; 24 But for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; 25 Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.

Luke 23

38 And a superscription also was written over him in letters of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew, This Is The King Of The Jews.

39 And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.

40 But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?

41 And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.

42 And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.

43 And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.

If you notice each of these passages contain the same content, Believing, Faith and Grace. We must follow the bible, not the doctrine of man. We must start investigating the word ourselves and stay on track with what the lord says. Let us not be deceived, Teaching that baptism saves you is putting your faith in the baptism and not Jesus Christ. The Lord doesn’t tell you to believe in him and be saved and then turn around and tell you to believe in him and be baptized as well in order to be saved. Its a contradiction, and a lie, and my Father does neither of those things. We must be vigilant and armor ourselves against the wolves. If we are going to teach, lets teach the word from the bible the whole thing not just a verse that can be twisted to fit ones needs. Its only to be taught in whole! I hope this sheds some light and if you need more evidence of what it takes to be saved please leave a comment below I have several more passages that speak on Salvation. I hope this finds you and gives better understanding of the word of God. I know it has helped me and reprogrammed my way of thinking. I give God all the glory for providing me with the tools I needed to properly study his word, and I praise Him endlessly.

2 Corinthians 11

Would to God ye could bear with me a little in my folly: and indeed bear with me. 2 For I am jealous over you with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. 3 But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. 4 For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him. 5 For I suppose I was not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles. 6 But though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge; but we have been throughly made manifest among you in all things. 7 Have I committed an offence in abasing myself that ye might be exalted, because I have preached to you the gospel of God freely? 8 I robbed other churches, taking wages of them, to do you service. 9 And when I was present with you, and wanted, I was chargeable to no man: for that which was lacking to me the brethren which came from Macedonia supplied: and in all things I have kept myself from being burdensome unto you, and so will I keep myself. 10 As the truth of Christ is in me, no man shall stop me of this boasting in the regions of Achaia. 11 Wherefore? because I love you not? God knoweth. 12 But what I do, that I will do, that I may cut off occasion from them which desire occasion; that wherein they glory, they may be found even as we. 13 For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. 14 And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. 15 Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.

God Bless you all and much love.... now go out there and teach the gospel according to our God, Our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.

~Heart for Christ

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lifeofresulullah · 5 years

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The Life of The Prophet Muhammad: The Battle of Uhud and Afterwards

The Incident of Ifk: Part 2

The Prophet Consults his Companions

The Messenger of God spent most of his time at home and did not go out very often during the days when the slander against Hazrat Aisha was prevalent.

When revelation regarding the issue was delayed, he talked to his Companions and asked them about their views.

Hazrat Umar’s View

Hazrat Uthman’s View

Hazrat Uthman expressed his view as follows:

Hazrat Ali’s View

The View of Hazrat Aisha’s Maid

Meanwhile, the Messenger of God called Aisha’s maidservant, Barira, and asked her view.

Hazrat Zaynab’s View

Hazrat Zaynab regarded herself as equal to Hazrat Aisha among the wives of the Prophet in terms of her beauty and position; she always competed with her. However, she did not have any negative thoughts about Hazrat Aisha. When the Messenger of God asked her about her view, she said,

“O Messenger of God! I protect my ears from saying, ‘I heard’ what I did not hear and my eyes from saying, ‘I saw’ what I did not see. I do not know anything but good about her.”

The Prophet’s Speech

“Oh, a gathering of Muslims! Who will help me against a person who has hurt me with slander about my wife? By God, I only know good about my wife. And they have mentioned a man with her concerning whom I only know good of as well.”

The Prophet Talks to Hazrat Aisha

Although about a month passed after the slander against Hazrat Aisha, no revelation was sent down to the Messenger of God.

Hazrat Aisha narrates her mood at that time as follows:

“When the Messenger of God (pbuh) ended his words, my tears dried. There was not even one drop coming out of my eyes.

I turned to my father and said to him, ’Answer the Messenger of God on behalf of me.’

My father said, ‘O my daughter! By God, I do not know what to say the Messenger of God (pbuh).’

Then, I turned to my mother and said to her, ’Answer the Messenger of God on behalf of me.’

She said, ‘By God, I do not know what to say the Messenger of God (pbuh), either’.”

Hazrat Aisha’s Answer

Hazrat Aisha’s father and mother did not answer the Messenger of God; so she had to speak. After uttering kalima ash-shahada and praising God Almighty, she said, “By God, I know that you have heard these rumors, and you look as if you have believed them. So, if I were to tell you that I am not guilty, – God knows that I am not – you would not believe me. And if I were to tell you I did something bad, – God knows that I did not – you would readily believe me! So, all I can say to you for my and your situation is the story of Jacob (pbuh) with his sons. At that time, he said, ‘(For me) patience is most fitting: Against that which ye assert, it is God (alone) whose help can be sought.’”

Revelation is Sent down to the Prophet

The Messenger of God had not stood up yet. Nobody from the household had gone out. Revelation was sent down to the Prophet there. Hazrat Aisha narrated the incident as follows:

When the state of revelation ended, the Messenger of God was smiling happily. He said to Aisha, “Glad tidings, O Aisha! God acquitted you and stated that you were free and away from that slander.”

Hazrat Abu Bakr became very happy. He stood up and kissed her daughter’s head.

The Verses that were Sent down

God Almighty stated the following in the verses that He sent to His Messenger regarding the issue:

Why did not Believers, men, and women when ye heard of the affair― put the best construction on it in their own minds and say "This (charge) is an obvious lie"?