founded upon a rock

Once the mirror is broken, nothing remains which can help us to answer the questions of our time.  Absurdism, like methodical thought, has wiped the slate clean.  It leaves us in a blind alley.  But, like methodical doubt, it can, by returning upon itself, open up a new field of investigation, and the process of reasoning then pursues the same course.  I proclaim that I believe in nothing and that everything is absurd, but I cannot doubt the validity of my proclamation and I must at least believe in my protest.  The first and only evidence that is supplied to me, within the terms of the absurdist experience, is rebellion.  Deprived of all knowledge, incited to murder or to consent to murder, all I have at my disposal is this single piece of evidence, which is only reaffirmed by the anguish I suffer.  Rebellion is born of the spectacle of irrationality, confronted with an unjust and incomprehensible condition. But its blind impulse is to demand order in the midst of chaos, and unity in the very heart of the ephemeral.  It protests, it demands, it insists that the outrage be brought to an end, and that what has up to now been built upon shifting sands should henceforth be founded on rock.  Its preoccupation is to transform.  But to transform is to act, and to act will be, tomorrow, to kill, and it still does not know whether murder is legitimate.  Rebellion engenders exactly the actions it is asked to legitimate.  Therefore it is absolutely necessary that rebellion find its reasons within itself, since it cannot find them elsewhere.  It must consent to examine itself in order to learn how to act.
—  Albert Camus, The Rebel (1951) - 10


Subject: Anbu Kakashi is triggered on a mission and has a nightmare

Rating: T

Pairing: ANBU!Kakashi x ANBU!Reader 

You exhaled quietly from behind a bush, watching your two comrades as they mounted a sizable tree to keep a lookout for enemies. You watched as the younger one grew branches from his palms to make it easier to grasp on to. The older one compensated with his lanky legs and long arms as they reached the top, quickly squatting and removing their porcelain masks. 

Watching carefully on the ground, you made sure to keep yourself disciplined, focusing on the task at hand. Beside you sat your other comrade, his face straight ahead as he too remained disciplined in his silence. In your pocket was a scroll that held the mission objective that you had perhaps opened and looked over a dozen times. You were confident in your ability as a medic ninja to supply the best support you could to your four-man team. 

Your mission was to assassinate each member of a team of rogue scientists located on the edge of the Land of Wind. When Lord Third had produced the scroll to your captain, you remained hesitant about the objective, not seeing the reasoning behind it. However, upon more research, you and your team learned of the high risk the scientists were to the entire shinobi race. 

Shi no Kagaku-sha, literally translating to Scientists of Death, had a mission to develop and distribute a deadly and highly contagious disease that caused chakra levels skyrocket. This, however, wasn’t the only issue at hand. The disease not only affected a shinobi’s chakra levels, but their brain chemistry was also impacted. As the stream of the disease would be from the same origin, the Kagaku-sha desired to be able to control anyone who was affected by the disease, ultimately being able to control anyone diagnosed. 

With your medical jutsu, you trained hard before this mission to try and find a cure, but there was nothing you could do without knowing the basis of the disease. Trying to extract it from a person who contracted it would only result in developing the disease yourself. 

“I see something up ahead,” the Captain jumped down from the trees, his silver hair moving in the wind. His junior jumped down also, the team readying themselves for an attack.

“If my projection is correct, they should be heading this way towards the Hidden Sand Village, as it is going to be their first target,” Kakashi informed the team. “Tenzo, you stand above. Use your wood jutsu as a barrier if they become too hard to handle. Shami, you come with me. [Y/N], you stand back, as we will need you and your blood bending as the last case scenario if Tenzo, Shami and I can’t handle the situation. Remember, we don’t know what their method is in regards to transporting the virus, so keep on your toes. If something were to happen, [y/n] is here to help.” 

“Hai,” they all responded. Tenzo and Shami quickly retreated, resuming their positions as Kakashi had informed them. Silently, you stood in the dark forest with him as he held his mask, watching you. 

“Be careful,” you whispered, your voice hushed. 

“You do the same,” he responded, his glowing Sharingan bright against his other black eye. Thoughtfully, he tapped your shoulder, making sure to not show too much of your new awkward affection towards each other in such a risky scenario. Just as quickly, he left and you resumed your position behind the bush. 

Moments passed and you could hear people moving in the distance. Suddenly, you could see them: four rogue shinobi men of the Hidden Mist village walking towards you on the path through the forest. A shuriken cut through the dark sky, slicing through the chest plate of one of the Kagaku-sha. Quickly, they became defensive, drawing their swords and pointing it in the direction of the weapon. 

The sound of a thousand birds echoed in the night and was quickly punched through one of the men’s chest from behind. Three remained and you heard Shami mutter extension jutsu, his arm extending and wrapping around one of the men’s necks until he turned blue. 

This was too easy, you thought. 

The man dropped to his knees, landing face first in the gravel. 

“ANBU black ops of the Hidden Leaf,” one man cooed. “What a surprise.” 

Kakashi lifted his hand again, his Chidori sounding loudly in your ears. 

“I’ve got it!” Shami’s arm extended, spikes coming out of his skin as he passed Kakashi. 

“Wait!” Kakashi yelled as Shami ran past him. 

Before he could do anything, the leader of the Kagaku-sha lifted his hand, his long, pointed nail penetrating the skin of Shami in an instant. You heard your comrade yell and drop to his knees. You ran towards him, as Tenzo and Kakashi quickly recovered and ran towards the two men. 

You squatted next to him, your hands ready as they glowed green with chakra. Your comrade hunched over, his arms wrapped around his abdomen. 

“Just stay still,” you told him. You began to shake, feeling incompetent as you were unsure of what to do.

“You’re going to be okay,” you heard yourself lie. 

Shami’s body began to glow blue as he shook next to you. You looked up, seeing only one man standing between your two comrades. 

“No,” you heard him say. “I’m not doing this - no!” 

He stood up, forcing his body to move towards the men. 

“Shami!” You yelled, following him but not touching him. “I have to heal you!” 

The sound of a thousand birds echoed through the night as Kakashi bolted towards the last man standing. 

“I will not infect my village!” 

Before you could stop him, you watched as Shami walked in front of Kakashi’s Chidori, piercing his chest instantly. His body ceased glowing and he dropped to his knees. You yelled in anguish, as Kakashi stood there, watching his comrade fall face first at his feet. 

He stood there, his body rigid suddenly. 

“Weak!” the man yelled. You gritted your teeth, running past Kakashi and Tenzo as they stood there astonished. 

“Blood Bending Jutsu: Seal of Death!” You interlocked your fingers and weaved the signs for the jutsu to cease blood movement in the body. Finally, the last man fell to the floor and you searched him for any pieces of information you could bring back to Konoha. 

Finally, you stood up and looked back at your comrades as they hovered over Shami. Tenzo picked him up, wrapping him over his shoulder to carry back. 

The Captain, however, still stood there, his hand raised in the same position it was. He lifted his mask, and even from a few feet away, you could see the distress, sorrow, and grief residing in his eyes. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

~ One Week After ~ 

Your team was heading back from another mission. Kakashi had been offered leave after the death of Shami, but denied it. 

Your relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it, had been stagnant. His emotions and expressions had been neutral, with the exception of the occasional heartache you could see in his eyes in the morning when you came together for training. As the day went on, it would disappear, only to return the next morning with deeper circles under his eyes. 

“We should stop to sleep,” Tenzo had suggested as they leaped from one branch to another. “We won’t make it tonight and we’ll only deplete our stamina more if we keep going.” 

Kakashi grunted in agreement, and you looked over at him. His mask hid his expression, but you knew what he was thinking about. 

You thought of when you were little, and you had heard of your classmate Rin’s death. You heard through the grapevine of how she had passed, and yet, you were unsure if it was true. You wondered if it haunted him as much as it shook you. 

“There’s a cave just north of here if you want to stop,” you suggested. Kakashi quickly rerouted, and an hour later, the three of you found yourselves walking into the dark cave for a night of sleep. Tenzo agreed to keep watch for the first two hours while you and Kakashi caught up on sleep and replenished your chakra. 

You ached to be near to him, and you wondered if he felt the same. When you looked at him though, you could tell he had other things on his mind and you felt foolish for thinking such immature thoughts after such a traumatic and recent experience. He wished you a good sleep and rested himself upon a smooth rock. 

Finally, you found yourself drifting off to sleep also. It may have been twenty minutes or an hour later, you weren’t sure when you were startled awake by the sounds of Kakashi yelling in his sleep. 

His previously placid face was crunched in a pained expression, his fingers gripping the ground as if he was in physical agony. He gritted his teeth in his sleep as you crept closer, wondering if he was awake and hadn’t told you he was previously injured on your mission. 

You watched him as you raised a glowing hand, and his features twitched, his jaw clenched as he breathed in heavily through his nose. 

“Kakashi?” you whispered, carefully touching his shoulder. He jolted awake, yelling as he sat up, a thin coat of sweat gracing his skin. He breathed in heavily, his chest rising and falling as he held it. His chin dipped to his collarbone and he squeezed his eyes shut, angry. 

Suddenly, his arm extended and punched your team’s equipment that laid in a pile next to him. He was angry. He swore, looking away as tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Kakashi,” you began, touching his shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

He paused, not looking at you as he held the side of his face with his knuckles. 

“No,” he finally answered. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, your hand sliding down his arm. He tensed under your soft touch and you pulled away. He looked over at you finally, finally making eye contact in the dimly lit cave. His eyes were tired, tears reluctantly welled up within one. 

“I can’t sleep at night anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t like closing my eyes. I just see Rin and now Shami. Both of them died - because of me.” 

His lips curled in a grimace, and you could tell how hard it was for him to even speak about his emotions. He swore again, looking away. 

“I could have -” 

“You could have nothing,” you interrupted, touching his shoulder again. Still tense, you noticed. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Both of these circumstances were because your comrades wanted to protect the entire shinobi nation. You - no listen to me - you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“They’re dead,” he crumbled, finally breaking. You felt him lean into you, and suddenly you were enveloping him in your arms as he cried into your chest. This was so uncharacteristic of him, and yet, it was warranted. He deserved to mourn, he deserved to have a moment of weakness. He was always so strong, always a leader. 

“It’s over,” you whispered to him. “I’m here.” 

You held him as he weeped into your shirt, unsure of how else to comfort him with your words. Instead, you just used your touch; fingering his silver hair at the nape of his neck. Slowly, you felt his body relax.

“We should get some sleep,” he finally suggested. “Yamato - I mean Tenzo, will be coming to switch shifts soon.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” you felt him let go of you, feeling suddenly empty without the warmth of his body. 

There was an awkward moment between the two of you as you sat there in the dark. You thought he might kiss you as his eyes flickered to your lips. Instead, he laid back down on his smooth rock. You frowned, hiding your disappointment as you laid down next to him, once again feeling foolish for thinking such things. You weren’t even sure if he liked you the way you liked him and it was dumb to have such a school girl crush on your captain and childhood friend. 

You faced him, your proximity closer to him than before. A moment later, you felt him reach for you in the dark, pulling you close across the cave floor. 

“I -” he began, his voice unsure, “Is it okay if I hold you tonight?” 

You felt yourself turn red as he pulled you into his chest. The heat of his body filled you again and you felt yourself relax.

 “Of course,“ you replied quietly, trying to keep your voice even.

He paused, placing his chin on the top of your head.

”[y/n],“ he said, noticing he called you by your real name and not your code name.

"Hmm?” You responded quietly.

“Thank you.”

You smiled again at him, “you’re welcome.”

* * * * * * * *

Sorry it took so long! I really wanted to think out the details of this. I hope To doesn’t sound rushed. Usually I write every detail but I figured no one would want to read that, as its kind of annoying when you’re reading a one-shot and want to get to the point lol anyway, send me more prompts!! I promise I won’t take as long! :)

Shining Stars

Pairing: Reader x Starlord (AKA Peter Quill)

Word Count: 680

Warnings: none?

Request: Could you write a fluffy reader x starlord fic about stargazing with him on another planet and him finally confessing his love for you? Thanks! I love your writing by the way.

A/N: I watched Stardust yesterday and absolutely loved it and it inspired me to finally write this. If you haven’t seen it then it is on Netflix and I definitely would recommend it and sorry for spoiling it for you. Requests are open.

As you lie on your back, staring up at the unfamiliar sky on an unfamiliar planet, all you could think about was the man lying next to you. Peter is naming off all the constellations that you didn’t even know existed and if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have cared but, Peter looked so happy while listing off all the star groups and legends behind all of them and fun facts that you simply couldn’t help but be interested.

“Do you know the story of the stars Yvaine and Tristian?” you ask smiling at your idea to fool Peter.

“Are you sure those are stars (Y/n), I haven’t heard of them before,” he responded but you just smiled and nodded your head.

“Yvaine was a beautiful star and often times even shone throughout the day but one day she fell to Earth. Tristian, whom worked in a shop but was by no means a shop boy, was on a picnic with whom he thought to be the love of his life and she said that if he could bring her back the fallen star by her birthday the following week she would marry him, so Tristian set out to find the star by lighting a candle of Babylon which would transport you wherever you were thinking of at the time. Upon arrival, he found the star wasn’t a rock fallen from space but a beautiful woman. Still convinced of his love for Victoria he promised the fallen star, Yvaine, he would return her to the sky’s from which she fell after presenting her to Victoria and after a week long journey he found he loved Yvaine and not Victoria and thus didn’t return to Victoria. Alas stars lived forever and he was only a mere mortal, but those who possessed the heart of a star could also live forever. Little did Tristian know he possessed the heart of a star, Yvaine’s heart to be precise. So after their children and grandchildren had grown they lit the remainder of the candle of Babylon and returned to the sky as stars to live forever,” you said remembering the story.

“Wow, that’s really great, I haven’t heard that before, where did you hear it from?” Peter asked you and you started laughing uncontrollably.“What’s so funny (Y/n)?” Peter asked and you took a deep breath to calm down.

“That’s the storyline from a movie that came out on Earth in 2007, Stardust, it was a good movie, though,” you replied smiling ear to ear while you looked over at Peter who was a mixture between amused and bewildered.

“You suck,” He said smiling as he rolled onto his side, propping his head in his hand to look at you and you followed suit.

“Oh you know you love me,” you said still joking around seeing as Peter hadn’t admitted that he loved you yet.

“Yeah I do,” he said smiling and you went silent, taken by surprise.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you did so.

“I love you, (Y/n),” Peter said and your eyes went wide as the moon.

“I love you too,” you said and after a few moments, you realized you were slowly inching closer to Peter and you allowed your eyes to flutter closed. Just before your lips touched Peter pulled your face to the side and licked up the side of your face before getting up and running toward the ship. “Did you just ‘DUFF’ me!?” you yelled while laughing, “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you that movie!” You chased after Peter and finally tackled him in a grassy path right before the ship.

“I do love you, though,” he said as you both stopped laughing.

“I love you too, dork,” you said as you rolled over and kissed the tip of Peter’s nose.  “Come on Romeo,” you sad as you stood up and offered Peter your hand. After getting up, Peter and you walked hand and hand onto your ship and towards your next adventure.


Inuvember 2015 Week 1 Day 3: SessKagu

I really wanted to have my SessKagu fanfiction ready for this day, but I knew I wouldn’t achieve that. So to make up for it I made a comic preview ^-^

I already posted a preview of the fic I’m working on on tumblr, but this was even more fun to do. 

I posted the preview again in this post. When the story is finished I will post notice here on tumblr and the link to it on FF.Net.

When finished the story will have the MA rating. But this little preview is within the limits for safe reading ^^

[preview of the fic underneath the ‘read more’]

Keep reading

Don't Be Afraid

Character: Newt Scamander

Prompt: 14 & 20

A/n: I was trying to get through my earlier requests, but I saw these two prompts and immediately had this in my head.

You always remembered your Care of Magical Creature class with great fondness. You excelled in the class and Professor Kettleburn became a trusted confidant as you advanced through the years. He wasn’t the most conventional teacher by any means, but he always had a fun story to tell.

You were facinated by the unique history surrounding each creature and how they have their own sense of character.

It wasn’t your best class by any means, but it was one you took a lot of interest in.

One student who took particular notice of this was, Newt Scamander. A hufflepuff that sat at the workspace behind yours.

He admired you for your knowledge for the class, and whenever he had small chats with Kettleburn, you were often brought up, as he thought the two of you would make good friends.

Newt had tried speaking to you several times, but he often had a way of repealing people away from him, so instead he admired from afar.

After being expelled, he didn’t hear much about you but he later learned that you also worked for the Ministry or Magic.

Newt was thoroughly surprised whenever you approached him, saying that you remember him from Hogwarts.

And thus your friendship was born.

Everyday you greeted each other on your way to work and spoke whenever you had free time.

Newt enjoyed speaking to you, and if he had known you were such an easy person to be around, he would have spoken to you much earlier.

Gradually, you had earned enough of his trust to let you see the inside of his case and meet all of his creatures, knowing you would appriciate them.

“This is wonderful.” You commented quietly as you looked at his collection of herbs lining the one shelf.

“Yes, a few of them were gifted to me, and then the some of them I find myself.” Newt explained, pointing to a few of them and telling you the names.

“I didn’t know you were into herbology.” You said, looking over your shoulder at him.

“I got more into it after school, though I still won’t go near a mandrake.” He said, his voice growing more distant as he walked away.

You were still admiring his workspace whenever he came back. “Just for arguements sake, you wouldn’t happen to be wearing any jewelry or anything particularly shiny?”

“No, I’m not really the jewelry type.” You said, unfazed by the out of place question.

“Ah, good.” He said with a sigh as he came towards you again.

“Any reason wh-” You cut yourself whenever you saw him holding onto a smaller creature with black fur and a flat beak. “Is that a-”

“A Niffler, yes.” Newt finished, smiling as you looked closley at him, your look full of wonder.

“So that’s what that question was about.” You said softly, reaching out and stroking the fur on it’s head. “He seems nice.”

“He is, extremely gentle though I wouldn’t let him loose inside anyone’s home.” He said, holding him out to you. “Would you like to hold him?”

You looked up at him and smiled. “Can I?”

Newt took a moment to appreciate the look on your face, recognizing the same expression he often had when seeing new creatures. “Of course.” He said, gently setting him into your hands.

The Niffler looked at your curiously, tilting it’s head from side to side as it tried to familiarize itself with you.

“He’s a dear.” You said, gently placing him on the table when it was obvious he wanted to move.

“I can show you more if you’d like?” Newt offered, smiling whenever you met each other’s gazes.

You nodded eagerly, and Newt took your hand before leading you into one of the other sections in his case.

He showed you the Bowtruckles and the Occamies, and a few other small creatures before leading you to where he kept Frank.

“Stay here for just a moment.” He said, dropping your hand and venturing to find him.

Newt found Frank already sitting upon one of the rocks in his habitat, lifting his head up as Newt approached him.

“Now you be in your best behavior.” Newt said gently, reaching and petting the large bird’s head. “She’s a very nice girl that means no harm.”

Newt smiled as Frank slowly stood up and squawked.

Newt gave him one last pet before running to fetch you again, slowly leading you into Frank’s habitat.

Your eyes breifly glanced at Frank before you had to do a double take, part from wondering how in the name of sanity Newt acquired a Thunderbird, and part from the sheer size of the creature.

Newt noticed how your grip on his hand tightened, and your movements started to become slower.

“Are you alright?” Newt asked, placing his other hand ontop of the one he was holding.

“W-Well, see I’m fine with small animals and all that.” You said, eyes leaving Newt’s to look back up at Frank. “But the larger ones tend make me a little nervous.”

Newt recalled how in class whenever Kettleburn had students feed hippogriffs, were stayed particular to back, something unusual for you.

He nodded. “I know he’s a little intimidating, but he’s very harmless.”

You laughed shakily. “I don’t question that, it’s just that I worry I’ll do something to distrupt it.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Newt said, slowly dropping your hands and walking back to Frank, who followed his movements.

“Do you trust me?” Newt asked, looking back to you.

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you trust me?” He repeated.

You thought about it for a moment, but slowly you nodded. “Yes.”

“Come here then.” He said, motioning you over.

You walked beside him, keepings your eyes on Frank who had turned his attention to you.

You finally reached Newt, moving close to his side.

“Now close your eyes and hold out your hand.” He said quietly.

You looked over to him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Close your eyes.”

Hesitantly, you did as told, slowly holding your hand infront of you.

Newt smiled, taking a hold of your wrist and slowly lead it towards Frank’s head.

Regardless of Newt’s guidance, your hand still faltered before it could even graze his feathers.

“Don’t be scared.” Newt whispered, trying to calm you. “If anything happens, I’ll be right here.”

You let out a breath once you felt your hand on something soft. “Okay you can open your eyes now.”

You nearly jumped whenever you saw yourself petting the large bird, it’s eyes focusing on you.

“Easy.” Newt said, placing his hand on your shoulder. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

You laughed, keeping your breathing steady as you eased more into it.

“See, you’re a natural.” Newt encouraged, looking at the two of you fondly.

After a moment or two you dropped your hand, opting to admire the beauty of the animal.

You looked over a Newt, eyes shining. “Can we see some more?”

Newt laughed, holding his hand out for you. “Of course.”

Originally posted by dailyfantasticbeastsgifs

Rebellion is born of the spectacle of irrationality, confronted with an unjust and incomprehensible condition. But its blind impulse is to
demand order in the midst of chaos, and unity in the very heart of the ephemeral. It protests, it demands, it insists that the outrage be brought to an end, and that what has up to now been built upon shifting sands should henceforth be founded on rock.

Albert Camus, The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt.

To shout “No” to the world as it is, to shout “Yes” to the world as it should be. 

Rebellion is born of the spectacle of irrationality, confronted with an unjust and incomprehensible contradiction. But its blind impulse is to demand order in the midst of chaos, and unity in the very heart of the ephemeral. It protests, it demands, it insists that the outrage be brought to an end, and that what has up to now been built upon shifting sands should henceforth be founded on rock. Its preoccupation is to transform.
—  Albert Camus, The Rebel

simmppaa  asked:

Hi! I need a break from this whole finale mess. So could write an season 3 AU where Fitz goes to the monolith room but the stone is already liquid so he shoots the door and takes the shotgun with him to maveth. Your fics are so fun to read.

Hi @simmppaa! Thank you for the prompt!! This one actually seemed to write itself, so I hope you like how it turned out!

*Note: This fic disregards some of the more…triangular plots of Season 3A (just like I do lmao).




We need to say goodbye.

We need to say goodbye.

We need to say goodbye.

Coulson’s words continued to ring in Fitz’s head as he stalked out of the lab with purpose, heading straight for containment and that damn monolith. He couldn’t just say goodbye to Jemma, like she was just some…some person. She was Jemma, she was different – she was everything.

Fitz wasn’t giving up on her, no matter what Coulson said. There was one thing left to try, one last ditch effort, one desperate final attempt to find her. And if it didn’t work?

Well, he reasoned grimly as he grabbed a shotgun, either way it shook out, he’d still be with Jemma.

Once at the door of the storage room, Fitz tore down the caution tape without a second thought, kicking the door right open. He took two steps inside the room, then paused as he noticed the monolith just beginning to melt into its liquid form.

Perfect timing.

Leveling the shotgun, he blasted off the locks keeping the monolith contained, yanked open the door of the case, and not giving it another thought, Fitz jumped straight in.

Keep reading

Rock, Paper, Sissors

Genre- Smut

Group- SHINee

Member- Kim Jonghyun

Admin- Aussi

We all walked into the hotel room tiredly. Karaoke was super fun but exhausting.
 "I call bed.“ I murmured to the rest and they groaned, not arguing.

 "You know..we only have three sleeping bags and a couch. You should share the bed.” Key pointed out and the others paused before grinning and excitedly agreement. Taemin smiled sweetly 

 "Rock, paper, scissors?“ 

 "Sounds good.” Onew said animatedly with a thumbs up

 "Oppa! I’m a girl!“ I cried but he just put his hand up in a ‘stop’ motion and winked.

 "Leader says yes so it is set in stone.” The eldest said and Minho grinned 

 "It’s rude to argue with your elders.“ He smirked and I glared at him. Traitor. I’m not so doing a duet with him again.

Key threw his hands up “Let’s begin!” The diva yelled
Key got couch,
Taemin floor,
Minho floor,
Onew floor, this left one person.
 I went in the bathroom to change into my nightclothes. The least revealing thing that I brought was a nightgown that went to my upper  thigh and was a little sheer. My cleavage could be seen over top the dress from the low cut. I decided to keep my bra on because the fabric was too thin without it. I flushed a little before walking out of the bathroom and into the room where the boys were in. I prayed that they were sleeping already.. They weren’t.

First thing I noticed when stepping In the room was that all the boys were shirtless. Second, all eyes were glued to me. Taemin, Key, Minho and Onew flushed pink but didn’t look away from my exposed body. Jonghyun on the other hand looked at me with an intense hunger that made my insides flutter with nerves. I scurried to the bed and hid my body under the thick covers.
 Onew turned off the lights and went to his sleeping bag as did everyone else. I closed my eyes, as I waited, heart racing as the bed sunk with Jonghyun’s weight. I shivered when his hot breath hit my neck. I gulped
 "Jonghyun you’re a bit close.“ I whispered shakily

 "I know.”
He wrapped a muscled arm around my waist and pulling me to his hard chest so that we were spooning. I felt every curve and dip in his body.




I blushed a little as the thought of licking his defined abs ran through my head. They must refer to them as chocolate because you want to eat them up. After a while I began to relax and drift off to sleep attempting to block out his hot hand on my hips. His hot everything on me. The hand pulled away and my body relaxed, only to tense again as it touched my soft thigh, slowly moving upwards and sending tingles through my body.

   “Jonghyun? What are you doing?” I rasped His hand was now moving over my hip, tracing over the side of my panties. Trailing over my stomach, fingers playing with the bottom of my bra. His teeth grazed the shell of my ear, kissing its was down to lick and bite my neck leaving only a trail of hot saliva and pleasured prickles behind.

   “Stay quiet, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone.” His nose buried back in my neck “I wouldn’t mind them knowing how much pleasure I can give you though. How you’re mine. Should I wake them up?” He asked, sucking gently on my neck and I whimpered in protest.

   “No, d-don’t! Please don’t!” I cried out, pleading. Something hard poked at my lower back and I gasped at the   that I was arousing him. He liked me begging. He liked me at his mercy, writhing under him. Jonghyun’s hand was at the back of my bra, playing with the clasp. Un-clasping and re-clasping it. Taunting me and subtly making sure I was okay with what was about to happen. The thought made me shiver in excitement.

“I’m taking it off.~” he said in a sing-song voice before all the pressure on my breast was let loose and my perky boobs fell out, nipples hardening from the cool air. I felt his grin against the back of my neck as his hands explored the new terrain. A small mewl left my mouth when he prodded at my hardened nipple. Jonghyun took his free hand and turned my face to his, bringing our lips together. His lips were rough and wet, I assume he had been licking them, a habit when he gets focused on a task.

Our lips moved together with a fierce passion, all our frustration, lust and admiration was expressed through our lips. His tongue brushed my bottom lip and I opened my mouth slightly only allowing his tongue to slightly slip in, however he pushed it fully into my mouth, immediately finding my own tongue. They intertwined, becoming as close as possible much like our bodies. Saliva intermingling, desire inflaming and merging. I pulled away, one for breath, two for turning my body to his so our bare chests were flush together and legs could twist together. Too close was nonexistent.

“Too much clothing!” I desperately panted and Jonghyun hastily slipped off his pants and boxers. Even in the dark I could see the massive outline of him. I took off my dress, leaving me in only my panties before pushing myself over his body. His middle fingers reached inside my underwear to pull them down before throwing them across the room, landing by Taemin. He chuckled and I playfully hit him in scolding before he grabbed my chin and interlocked our lips once again.

I smiled slightly. Sorry Tae-baby.

Soon I was pulled atop his body and I moaned as my womanhood made contact with his abs. My hips bucked against him instantly and he growled, moving my body down onto his erection, grabbing my ass and pushing down so that more friction was made. I ground hard on his pulsing cock, feeling every vein against me and covering him with my juices. I continued to rub hard against him as my hands traced over his hard chest. It was my turn to explore. The fact that Jonghyun hides this body behind a shirt is amazing. I knew he was ripped but I didn’t know it was to this extent.

My hands found every single crease and bulge of his flaming hot skin. I leaned down to lick his hardened nipples. I slowly bit one while looking straight in his eyes. Next up was his abs, covered in my essence even from only being on him for a second. My teeth scraped them, the slight pain making his cock twitched from beneath me. “I can’t wait any longer!” He groaned, flipping us so that I was underneath his burning body. He looked in my eyes in question and I let out a raspy

“Yes.” He began to insert his cock in me and I let out a yelp at the pain. My lover pushed my head into the crook of his neck, cooing sweet words as I adjusted to his massive size. Once the pain ebbed I rolled my hips, testing the waters. I only found immense pleasure. Jonghyun rocked against me slowly upon the realization that he could move. I heard a quiet “Screw it.” My legs were lifted over my head only to be held over my ears, leaving me exposed and helpless.

Jonghyun pounded into me with fever. My back arched and I stifled a pleasured scream as he hit my G-spot head on. He grinned like a cat before slamming into it again, I instantly came. He moved faster into my sensitive pussy before grasping my wrists and holding them above my head, leaving me helpless to the continuous pleasure. He rubbed every part of me making me feel raw and fragile yet his rough thrusting didn’t yield. I didn’t want it to. The feeling of his labored breath against my sweaty body while we fucked was wonderful. His long fingers began to rub my clit in tight circles and I bit his shoulder to hold in a moan. I need to remember we are not alone in this room. This only turned me on more, moaning loudly and nails digging into my palm.

“Are you getting close again? From me pounding into your hot tight little cunt? Your such a dirty slut cumming from my cock and seducing all the others.” He huskily groaned his thrust continued their bruising pace, speeding up slightly. I decided that it was time to take control and I flipped us. He began to sit up in protest but I put my hand on his chest before rolling my hips on him. I roughly bounced on his cock at high speed. I was sure the inside of my pussy would be bruised from the hardness filling me so roughly but I didn’t mind it. Jonghyun sat up and speared into me before cumming deep inside me. The hot juice filling me caused me to come so hard I swear I saw stars. I collapsed next to Jonghyun and he softly kissed my nose, looking into my eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He said softly, stroking my hair and I smiled softly.

“I’m glad you did.”

Taemin looked back and forth at the bed and the panties that had been thrown beside him, astounded. Minho patted his back. “I really wish I picked scissors right now too.” Minho sighed, frustrated, his head filled with regret


Palaeolithic Female Figurines

Photos from the American Museum of Natural History

“To a student of prehistoric religion, the earliest significant works are a group of about thirty-five female figurines found on twelve sites scattered from the Pyrenees to Siberia. In view of this vast geographical range, their similarity is striking. All are relatively small, about the length of a human hand, and all are footless and faceless with swollen breasts, buttocks and/or abdomens. Within this style there are some variations. They are fashioned in clay, ivory or stone. Some are fat, some apparently pregnant, and some have the breasts and buttocks alone emphasized. Those from western and central Europe tend to be found singly and without any context, while the Russian examples are found ore often in groups and on settlement sites. At Kostienki on the river Don, three were found in a niche in a hut wall. The situation could suggest that they were deities in a family shrine, but as they had been thrown there after being broken it looks more likely that they were being discarded or hidden. At Yeliseevici, on t he river Desna, one was found among three mammoths’ skulls arranged in a circle. At Laussel in the Dordogne, France, three reliefs of women holding objects were found carved upon boulders in a rock shelter. All are similar in style to the figurines and the best preserved holds what experts upon the fauna of the Palaeolithic have always identified as an upward-curving bison horn, marked with thirteen lines. The woman’s left hand rests upon her abdomen, and she has been painted red, which, as suggested above, seems to have been the colour most often connected with sacred or arcane matters in the Palaeolithic.

No collection of male images is associated with all these females, the only masculine forms being a torso with a spear carved at Laussel and a crude and mutilated statuette from Czechoslovakia. There is also a scene engraved in the sequence at Lausesel which may show an act of human copulation, though it is not plain enough to afford any certainty. The only other evidence relating to these figurines is their dating, and here another striking similarity is revealed: all those from context which could be dated may be attributed to the centuries between about 25,000 and about 23,000 BC. All were therefor apparently produced in a relatively short period of the Palaeolithic, that in which the ice sheets were starting to advance southward for the last time. This fact would account for their complete absence from Britain, which the ice was rendering uninhabitable.

So what did they mean? Their earliest discoverers preempted the question by calling them ‘Venuses’, a name which has stuck and which indicated that they were representations of a goddess. For the first seventy years of this century it seemed to be a scholarly orthodoxy that they were representations of a universal prehistoric Earth Mother. This interpretation (which will be discussed further in the next chapter) was not the product of accumulating evidence but a theoretical construction. The figurines were slotted into a preexisting system of thought much as earlier generations had considered Palaeolithic flints to be the discarded weapons of elves. Unlike 'elf-shot’, the notion of this Mother Goddess is not susceptible of proof or disproof, but there have always been prehistorians who have noted that the Old Stone Age statuettes have no features to mark them off as divine or majestic. On the other hand, the degree of effort invested in them suggests that they were far more than Palaeolithic pinups. any explanation of them needs to take into account the fact that they were apparently a feature of a relatively short span of the Old Stone Age, marked by the cooling of the climate. If the Earth Mother theory is correct, was a cult of this deity related tot he advance of the ice? This seems doubtful because the change would have occurred so slowly that it could hardly have been perceptible to the humans of the time. Were the people, instead, working magic with these images to increase their own fertility and improve their numbers? Or to decrease them, as a hunter-gatherer groups in history have been more concerned to limit their population to a level which the environment could support? The most recent suggestion, made by Clive Gamble, is that they were exchanged as tokens when tribes or clans intermarried as part of a shifting territorial relationship of groups migrating before the ice-cap. This is possible, but the nature of the images themselves demands a context. The Laussel carvings were not tokens but sen to have formed a ceremonial centre. Why were the female figurines there holding objects? Was the bison horn, which is the only object now distinct, an emblem of virility? Or of the moon, or of a wish to have the herds of the animals increased? Was the fact that thirteen lines were drawn upon it of particular significance? And he figure among the skulls at Yeliseevici also suggests the focus of a ritual. Was this to do with hunting the beasts concerned, or were they themselves symbolic of a quality? Or were their heads simply decorative? The blank faces of the figurines parallel the enigma which they pose.”

Ronald Hutton, in The Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles.


They couldn’t find him anywhere. No matter how hard they looked, he was just gone. Some of the others, those that had not been a part of the company and didn’t know him like the rest, gave up some time ago, claiming that he probably went home already. Some even suggested that he went home before the battle began, but the company knew that was a falsehood because Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin all swore that he was there with them atop Ravenhill before the second army descended upon them.

Bilbo Baggins would never abandon his company of dwarves to their death. He had said that they were loyal to a fault, which they only knew because Thranduil had said it when they refused to give up despite his claims of how fruitless their efforts were, but it was truly Bilbo Baggins who was loyal to a fault. It was his own loyalty to the company of thirteen dwarves that had practically dragged him on this adventure by invading his home that got him into all this trouble. That got him missing.

It was nearing the end of the day when the call rang out that the Hobbit was found. Dwalin had apparently stumbled upon him hidden in the rocks on his third trip to Ravenhill. He was cursing himself for not seeing the little one sooner and was pacing outside Bilbo’s tent when the rest of the company arrived.

“How is he?” Thorin asked almost desperately. Had they not been in camp, and had he not had to keep up appearances as the King Under the Mountain, he might have shown just how frantic he was to know Bilbo’s health, but instead he could only stand there with his teeth and fists clenched so hard that he could feel pain in both. Besides, it’s not like he really had the right to anything more than that. They were only friends and, after all that he had done, Thorin wasn’t even sure if Bilbo thought of him as that anymore. He had ruined his chances for the more that he had hoped for once they got to the mountain.

“He’s gotten a hit to the head,” Dwalin growled, still angry with himself. It wasn’t only the fact that he had missed the hobbit twice, but that the place where he had found Bilbo was where he had been fighting the army and he should have taken better care of their littlest friend. “He hasn’t woken yet and Oin’s not sure that he will.”

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The Hylian Architectural Tradition

“The only way you can build, the only way you can get the building into being, is through the measurable.  You must follow the laws of nature and use quantities of brick, methods of construction, and engineering.  But in the end, when the building becomes part of living, it evokes unmeasurable qualities, and the spirit of its existence takes over.”

  -Louis Kahn  

I particularly love the quote above, because it speaks to something that cannot be quantified, something that oftentimes leaves the observer without words.  Meaningful art, beautiful landscapes, or moving poetry all unlock a portion of the human spirit that is the majority of the time contained.  And this latent, powerful upwelling of soul is ineffable by its very essence.  It seems as though certain worldly items can connect to this pocket of whatever-it-is, draw it out and channel it, and bring with it myriad emotions and thoughts, the chiefest of which is that of impassioned and inspired movement.  And this movement need not be external.  It sweeps throughout the body with a speed and power that are equal to that which sparked the movement in the first place.  Our language reflects this movement toward the beautiful.  We are drawn into things, brought low by an encountered object of splendor, and raised to the heights of the sublime.  These descriptions are all lovely, but they cannot fully describe the innermost movements of the spirit, and this is why, at times, individuals are left speechless.  Tolkien, along with a select group of his closest friends during their early school days, referred to this as the poetic fire of the hidden heart

I think that sums it up quite nicely.

Credit to: for a lovely composition of Hyrule Castle at dusk in front of a gorgeous sky.

Architecture as explorable space is magnificent in this regard.  Investigating a painting is assuredly excellent, as we are once again drawn in by the individual brush strokes, or the particular hue of the sky, but we can never truly explore it.  But one can explore architecture.  Unlike the medium of painting (which I assure you I certainly appreciate), one can literally be drawn into a structure, walk its halls, descend into its secret haunts, or meditate in its peaceful arcades.  Happily, this is also true (similar, though not exact) of the medium of video games, for, like a painting, one can examine its collocations of pixels or chosen light effects, but one can also traverse its distances and travel the depths and shallows of the in-game world.  In many ways, video games such as these are bridges between mediums; yet, they are very much their own.

Hyrule Castle happens to be such a place that demands exploration.  As it dominates the visible landscape of Hyrule, it subtly speaks of its magnificence, inevitably drawing the player slowly toward the end-game.  We are tempted very early on with hollow promises that it is open to us, only to be transported away without notice, and we are left with a sensation that something is deeply unfinished.  And for the majority of the game, various errands keep players in the hinterlands of Hyrule, far from the castle, though it is always in sight.  Its very existence is a reminder, almost a temptation, of that which waits at the end.  It is the center of the world, resting within sight of every provincial settlement, yet it is the one place that eludes us. 

Thus, when the gates open and the barrier is destroyed, it is almost cathartic.  Finally, the end is near, and the distant unknown finally made knowable.  

Like the castle town nestled up against the steep walls encircling the fortress, the architectural setting of this stronghold is principally medieval, from the turrets to the tapestries.  I do not want to linger upon the castle town, but I do wish to address the northern face of the courtyard that accentuates the castle so perfectly.  In the center of the plaza, there is a cascading fountain aligned axially with the approach to the castle.  Unsurprisingly, this is adorned with the crest of the Royal Family created out of grey stone.  A tall arcade of drop arches on both sides of the court frame a large archway, which leads across the bridge to the inner courts.  The spandrels of these arcades are highly embellished, featuring leaf-like wings.  Every third column (which is technically more a pier than a column) rests underneath the gentle billowing of a crimson standard. The arcade supports what should be a very familiar entablature last seen in the Temple of Time, whose figures move toward the gate and terminate facing one another over the gently-pointed archway.  Crossing this threshold, pausing a moment to once again stare curiously at the seven strange figures lining this path, we approach the monumental gateway to Hyrule Castle.

The courtyards which ring the castle are intense in their subtlety.  They possess an atmospheric quality of quietude, encompassed and created by the high curtain walls which surround them.  A subdued rain falls through curtains of vapor, finally landing upon the tall pines and low shrubs.  Three monuments to the Goddesses and their Triforce feature prominently in this main garden, reaching upward in the pattern of a chain that eventually frees itself to end in a thick triangle.  These shrines demarcate the three main paths throughout this section of the castle’s landscape.  Divided into four distinct units, the layouts of the enclosures are roughly symmetrical.  Straight paths branch out from the approach to the castle gates, leading to smaller iron doors emblazoned with the Royal Crest.

Since the sealing off of the castle after the conquest of Zant and his dark god, large portions of wall lie in crumbled heaps, and a general aura of age and disrepair permeates the air.  Tucked away beneath the crenellated walls are transitory, haphazard Bokoblin constructs, meant to shelter and protect their goods and mounts.  Given the number of guard posts and storerooms within these courtyards, it becomes apparent that these defenses were once heavily manned with Hylian soldiers.  Likely, they also served as a barracks and training ground, as the raised platform upon which Link defeats King Bulblin for the final time demonstrates so well.  Apart from their aesthetic pleasure, they also served the dual function of housing the garrisons of Hyrule.    

Within the Eastern (or Western, depending on your game version) courtyard is a rough Triforce etched into the lawn and covered with scattered leaves.  Its corners and joints are all accented by winding columns of light grey stone that support the gale-powered turbines found primarily in the Forest Temple of Faron Woods.  I like to think that some Hyrulean explorer discovered those ruins deep within the woods, took notes on the mechanical developments therein, and brought back his designs for the benefit of the Royal Family.

Behind the castle is a different area entirely.  It appears far older than the previous segments of horticultural niceties, and far gloomier.  The rain falls harder here, and the lichen and moss upon the roots, rocks, and trees seem to have found an age-old home in this forgotten court.  Deciduous trees and long grasses border a faded dirt path, and sunken headstones with worn etchings break the vertical continuity of this passage with their chipped and broken faces.  Around the bend, a pallid green ghost-light illumines the turrets above and the walls below, and statues speak of a cursed swordsman and a sacred tree.

Ringed in stone and flanked by six smaller turrets arranged radially around it, the prominent aspect of this castle is the keep.  This vertically-colossal edifice belies its inner smallness.   Its octagonal design and neatly arranged hallways connect in many places to the outer walls, so as to facilitate the rapid movement of troops to positions where they are most needed.  The structure is built in receding layers, tapering toward the top.  Large stones and giant order pilasters and columns constitute the majority of the outer façade, but they are by no means the most dominant feature of the castle.  Slightly above the iconic blue roofs and crenellated walkways are truly gargantuan flying buttresses—they connect with the outer turrets most precisely, which means that the turrets are not only defensive but structural in essence.  Without such monumental buttressing (though I doubt that these could actually withstand the prodigious load and thrust upon them without collapsing), the central tower could most certainly not stand firm.  At this point in the analysis, it should be quite apparent that the centuries preceding the Era of Twilight were halcyon days for the Hylians.  From the age of Ocarina of Time, this castle has grown exponentially, both in layout and in sumptuous detail.

Passing through the gate within a gate, a shadowy hallway comes to light.  Its tessellated tiles of cream and olive hues augment the lifeless golden glow within the main chamber.  The walls can be divided into three courses, and each is uniquely complex.   The lowest portion of the wall is of plain stonework divided into sections by unadorned columns.  Running the lower course of this section are arabesque panels of cream on dark brown.  Toward the columnar capitals, a course of dentils (the small tooth-like projections set at even intervals beneath the cornice) runs the length of the room, broken only by three vaulted projections that serve as balconies to the upper floors.  Strangely, there are no doors on this main floor, and most of the castle is accessible only through the mezzanine entrances.  Returning to the walls, the second story is much more evenly spaced than the former, with Ionic pilasters at even lengths that separate very intricate panels with bas-relief floral motifs.  The third story serves as a clerestory, even though the windows themselves are blind, and let in no light from outside.  Resting above the entire room, in all its ornateness, is a large triangular lacunar.  Coffering can be seen all over this chamber, from the hemispherical half-domes from which chandeliers descend to the barrel vault above the main entryway from the courtyard.  Personally, I find this room to be the perfect antechamber to the rest of the castle.  It is capacious, yet unoccupied, and its true gravity lies in its emptiness.  For all of the detailed embellishments that cover nearly every aspect of this vast space, it certainly lacks a human touch.  The non-existence of doors or staircases compounds this odd sensation, and the pale lighting is anything but welcoming.  There is all of this marvelous architecture to behold, but not a soul in sight.

However large the castle may appear to be to the outside eye, the interior is surprisingly small.  Apart from the entry hall and mezzanine, the only chambers are those that ring the massive antechamber; a series of hallways connects these rooms, and they are equal parts austerity and lavishness.  The wooden doors are inlayed with gold trim, representing both the symbol of the Goddesses, as well as a multitude of fanciful, abstract designs.  Two decorative pilasters engraved with enriched diamond patterns form a two-level frame for each door, while a neat row of dentils separates them from one another.  The overdoor echoes the topmost panel from the doorway, an enlarged Triforce with jagged trim, but done in stone in low relief.  Depending on the hallway, though each is an elongated, undulating passage with several doorways leading to various courtyards or outside walls, the carpet is either a deep blue, or a rich red.  The pilasters described before repeat upon the walls, dividing them up into different bays, while weapons and tapestries adorn them.  A richly-coffered ceiling resting upon a slight cornice and course of dentils neatly caps the room.

Other hallways are dimly lit ones with blind windows.  Familiar suits of armor line them, and faded tapestries hang upon the walls.  Some are flat-ceilinged, while others are vaulted.  But, regardless of where one goes, the inexplicable vapor continues to rise from the floor below.  

There are a few chambers within these upper levels that are evidently damaged.  Stones lie upon the floor, where they have clearly fallen from the walls.  Skulls and bits of wood carpet the ground, and the staircases leading upward are little more than chasms.  They have also been trapped, which hints at a security system likely set in place by Ganondorf or his henchman.  

After ascending to the highest interior level, the shift of the building focuses outward to a balcony.  This balcony, aside from providing an exquisite view, allows the castle to double back upon itself.  Two grand staircases to either side of the main portal lead upward to what is really a fortress upon a castle—the secretive throne room astride the mountain of shaped-stone below.  Twilit skies encircle this area, and black clouds attempt to hide the utmost roof from view.  

The throne room is just breath-taking.  The colossal, raised ceiling is recessed into different layers, coffered and ribbed, while the apse behind the throne unites itself with the clerestory in the nave.  In many ways, this chamber echoes a medieval cathedral.  Two colonnades run the length of the chamber, creating two aisles separate from the larger clearing; the windows appear to be open to the elements, although they perhaps were once actual windows of metal and glass.  For all of this beauty, though, the preeminent aspect of this room is the throne itself.  A simple chair rests in front of a large tower of stone (resembling in many ways a stele) which rises to the center height of the entire chamber so that it is framed between pillars and dome.  A unique variation of the Royal Crest graces this monument, with largely freestanding wings, and a brilliant Triforce of gold that is borne aloft by a statuary group of the three Golden Goddesses.  The Goddesses are shown to be breathing out, perhaps representing the life, structure, and law of the land that they created.  

Origins of Peter as Pope

The New Testament contains five different metaphors for the foundation of the Church (Matt. 16:18, 1 Cor. 3:11, Eph. 2:20, 1 Pet. 2:5–6, Rev. 21:14). One metaphor that has been disputed is Jesus Christ’s calling the apostle Peter “rock”: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it” (Matt. 16:18). 

Some have tried to argue that Jesus did not mean that his Church would be built on Peter but on something else. 

Some argue that in this passage there is a minor difference between the Greek term for Peter (Petros) and the term for rock (petra), yet they ignore the obvious explanation: petra, a feminine noun, has simply been modifed to have a masculine ending, since one would not refer to a man (Peter) as feminine. The change in the gender is purely for stylistic reasons. 

These critics also neglect the fact that Jesus spoke Aramaic, and, as John 1:42 tells us, in everyday life he actually referred to Peter as Kepha or Cephas (depending on how it is transliterated). It is that term which is then translated into Greek as petros. Thus, what Jesus actually said to Peter in Aramaic was: “You are Kepha and on this very kepha I will build my Church.”

The Church Fathers, those Christians closest to the apostles in time, culture, and theological background, clearly understood that Jesus promised to build the Church on Peter, as the following passages show. 

Tatian the Syrian

“Simon Cephas answered and said, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ Jesus answered and said unto him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah: flesh and blood has not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven. And I say unto thee also, that you are Cephas, and on this rock will I build my Church; and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it” (The Diatesseron 23 [A.D. 170]). 


“Was anything withheld from the knowledge of Peter, who is called ‘the rock on which the Church would be built’ [Matt. 16:18] with the power of ‘loosing and binding in heaven and on earth’ [Matt. 16:19]?” (Demurrer Against the Heretics 22 [A.D. 200]). 

“[T]he Lord said to Peter, ‘On this rock I will build my Church, I have given you the keys of the kingdom of heaven [and] whatever you shall have bound or loosed on earth will be bound or loosed in heaven’ [Matt. 16:18–19]… . What kind of man are you, subverting and changing what was the manifest intent of the Lord when he conferred this personally upon Peter? Upon you, he says, I will build my Church; and I will give to you the keys” (Modesty 21:9–10 [A.D. 220]). 

The Letter of Clement to James

“Be it known to you, my lord, that Simon [Peter], who, for the sake of the true faith, and the most sure foundation of his doctrine, was set apart to be the foundation of the Church, and for this end was by Jesus himself, with his truthful mouth, named Peter” (Letter of Clement to James 2 [A.D. 221]). 

The Clementine Homilies

“[Simon Peter said to Simon Magus in Rome:] ‘For you now stand in direct opposition to me, who am a firm rock, the foundation of the Church’ [Matt. 16:18]” (Clementine Homilies 17:19 [A.D. 221]). 


“Look at [Peter], the great foundation of the Church, that most solid of rocks, upon whom Christ built the Church [Matt. 16:18]. And what does our Lord say to him? ‘Oh you of little faith,’ he says, ‘why do you doubt?’ [Matt. 14:31]” (Homilies on Exodus 5:4 [A.D. 248]). 

Cyprian of Carthage

“The Lord says to Peter: ‘I say to you,’ he says, ‘that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not overcome it. And to you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven … ’ [Matt. 16:18–19]. On him [Peter] he builds the Church, and to him he gives the command to feed the sheep [John 21:17], and although he assigns a like power to all the apostles, yet he founded a single chair [cathedra], and he established by his own authority a source and an intrinsic reason for that unity. Indeed, the others were that also which Peter was [i.e., apostles], but a primacy is given to Peter, whereby it is made clear that there is but one Church and one chair… . If someone does not hold fast to this unity of Peter, can he imagine that he still holds the faith? If he [should] desert the chair of Peter upon whom the Church was built, can he still be confident that he is in the Church?” (The Unity of the Catholic Church 4; 1st edition [A.D. 251]). 

“There is one God and one Christ, and one Church, and one chair founded on Peter by the word of the Lord. It is not possible to set up another altar or for there to be another priesthood besides that one altar and that one priesthood. Whoever has gathered elsewhere is scattering” (Letters 43[40]:5 [A.D. 253]). 

“There [John 6:68–69] speaks Peter, upon whom the Church would be built, teaching in the name of the Church and showing that even if a stubborn and proud multitude withdraws because it does not wish to obey, yet the Church does not withdraw from Christ. The people joined to the priest and the flock clinging to their shepherd are the Church. You ought to know, then, that the bishop is in the Church and the Church in the bishop, and if someone is not with the bishop, he is not in the Church. They vainly flatter themselves who creep up, not having peace with the priests of God, believing that they are 
secretly [i.e., invisibly] in communion with certain individuals. For the Church, which is one and Catholic, is not split nor divided, but it is indeed united and joined by the cement of priests who adhere one to another” (ibid., 66[69]:8). 


“But what is his error … who does not remain on the foundation of the one Church which was founded upon the rock by Christ [Matt. 16:18], can be learned from this, which Christ said to Peter alone: ‘Whatever things you shall bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth, they shall be loosed in heaven’ [Matt. 16:19]” (collected in Cyprian’s Letters74[75]:16 [A.D. 253]). 

“[Pope] Stephen [I] … boasts of the place of his episcopate, and contends that he holds the succession from Peter, on whom the foundations of the Church were laid [Matt. 16:18]… . [Pope] Stephen … announces that he holds by succession the throne of Peter” (ibid., 74[75]:17). 

Ephraim the Syrian

“[Jesus said:] ‘Simon, my follower, I have made you the foundation of the holy Church. I betimes called you Peter, because you will support all its buildings. You are the inspector of those who will build on earth a Church for me. If they should wish to build what is false, you, the foundation, will condemn them. You are the head of the fountain from which my teaching flows; you are the chief of my disciples’” (Homilies 4:1 [A.D. 351]). 


“You cannot deny that you are aware that in the city of Rome the episcopal chair was given first to Peter; the chair in which Peter sat, the same who was head—that is why he is also called Cephas [‘Rock’]—of all the apostles; the one chair in which unity is maintained by all” (The Schism of the Donatists 2:2 [A.D. 367]). 

Ambrose of Milan

“[Christ] made answer: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock will I build my Church… . ’ Could he not, then, strengthen the faith of the man to whom, acting on his own authority, he gave the kingdom, whom he called the rock, thereby declaring him to be the foundation of the Church [Matt. 16:18]?” (The Faith 4:5 [A.D. 379]). 

“It is to Peter that he says: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church’ [Matt. 16:18]. Where Peter is, there is the Church. And where the Church is, no death is there, but life eternal” (Commentary on Twelve Psalms of David 40:30 [A.D. 389]). 

Pope Damasus I

“Likewise it is decreed … that it ought to be announced that … the holy Roman Church has not been placed at the forefront [of the churches] by the conciliar decisions of other churches, but has received the primacy by the evangelic voice of our Lord and Savior, who says: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it; and I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven… . ’ [Matt. 16:18–19]. The first see, therefore, is that of Peter the apostle, that of the Roman Church, which has neither stain nor blemish nor anything like it” (Decree of Damasus 3 [A.D. 382]). 


“‘But,’ you [Jovinian] will say, ‘it was on Peter that the Church was founded’ [Matt. 16:18]. Well … one among the twelve is chosen to be their head in order to remove any occasion for division” (Against Jovinian 1:26 [A.D. 393]).

“I follow no leader but Christ and join in communion with none but your blessedness [Pope Damasus I], that is, with the chair of Peter. I know that this is the rock on which the Church has been built. Whoever eats the Lamb outside this house is profane. Anyone who is not in the ark of Noah will perish when the flood prevails” (Letters 15:2 [A.D. 396]). 


“If the very order of episcopal succession is to be considered, how much more surely, truly, and safely do we number them [the bishops of Rome] from Peter himself, to whom, as to one representing the whole Church, the Lord said, ‘Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not conquer it.’ Peter was succeeded by Linus, Linus by Clement. … In this order of succession a Donatist bishop is not to be found” (Letters 53:1:2 [A.D. 412]). 

Council of Ephesus

“Philip, the presbyter and legate of the Apostolic See [Rome], said: ‘There is no doubt, and in fact it has been known in all ages, that the holy and most blessed Peter, prince and head of the apostles, pillar of the faith, and foundation of the Catholic Church, received the keys of the kingdom from our Lord Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of the human race, and that to him was given the power of loosing and binding sins: who down even to today and forever both lives and judges in his successors’” (Acts of the Council, session 3 [A.D. 431]). 

Sechnall of Ireland

“Steadfast in the fear of God, and in faith immovable, upon [Patrick] as upon Peter the [Irish] church is built; and he has been allotted his apostleship by God; against him the gates of hell prevail not” (Hymn in Praise of St. Patrick 3 [A.D. 444]). 

Pope Leo I

“Our Lord Jesus Christ … has placed the principal charge on the blessed Peter, chief of all the apostles… . He wished him who had been received into partnership in his undivided unity to be named what he himself was, when he said: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church’ [Matt. 16:18], that the building of the eternal temple might rest on Peter’s solid rock, strengthening his Church so surely that neither could human rashness assail it nor the gates of hell prevail against it” (Letters 10:1 [A.D. 445]). 

Council of Chalcedon

“Wherefore the most holy and blessed Leo, archbishop of the great and elder Rome, through us, and through this present most holy synod, together with the thrice blessed and all-glorious Peter the apostle, who is the rock and foundation of the Catholic Church, and the foundation of the orthodox faith, has stripped him [Dioscorus] of the episcopate” (Acts of the Council, session 3 [A.D. 451]). 

NIHIL OBSTAT: I have concluded that the materials 
presented in this work are free of doctrinal or moral errors. 
Bernadeane Carr, STL, Censor Librorum, August 10, 2004 
IMPRIMATUR: In accord with 1983 CIC 827
permission to publish this work is hereby granted. 

My adopted gphi mommy made me this rock. It’s a tradition at her old school to make one for a younger girl you adore.

Next year I’m keeping the tradition alive and making one for my best friends little. Anyway I thought this was so cute. It’s spray painted silver and the black designs are felt stick ons. I keep it on my desk and I think it’s so so pretty. One of the favorite gifts I’ve gotten this year.

Gamma Phi Beta Founded Upon a Rock 1974

I dreamt that I found some random knight in the woods who wanted me to duel him, but he kept making really shitty puns about swords and then harangling me for validation of his cleverness. I got by him just by saying, “I don’t get it, let me walk and think about it for a while!” and strolling away.

Later, I found a rock wall with a strange code scrawled upon it. I spent a long time analyzing it, only for it to decipher into a jargon-heavy message directed at the troop of Moroccan hairdressers that apparently lived nearby.

What happened to you? (short-and-scaled)

Shadow roamed the desert of Arizona, the sun was beating down on her frame, her head shook trying to cool off somewhat. She was in her equine alt mode, no one was around…. Or so she thought. Her sons ran past her in their alt modes. “remember boys! Return to base after two.” she calls out with a chuckle. She found a plateau and settled herself upon the rock. She let out a soft huff as she soaked in the warm air around her.

She had changed from when her and Mayhem last met…. Mayhem… She let out a soft sigh, still to this day, after all these eons he still had her spark. Even after the cons, what the did to her…. She was never the same femme. Her ears flicked back hearing a sound from behind. She let out a low warning growl trying to detur the person behind her from coming closer.

Music on the Sea (closed)

The ride to the small village of boats and clever homes built on sturdy stilts over open water was long, though granted it was better than walking which the last 100 miles were starting to take their toll on Immoth’s feet.

Laying on his back on damp fragrant hay on the bed of a horse drawn wagon he watched as misty grey clouds lingered above him, he did not know how long he had been starring at those clouds waiting for the rain to come but his thoughts were interrupted when the elf driver was suddenly at his feet.

“We’re here, my friend,” he said happily to which Immoth gladly sat up and shuffled out of his cart, brushing the foliage off of him.

“I thank you, more so my feet thank you. I hope there is a decent cobbler in this village,” Immoth mused as he took note just how much his feet hurt in his worn leather shoes. The elf driver gave him a sympathetic look.

“You can find many surprising people in this small village, and things,” was all he said before he took to his tasks, he would have liked to talk more but the rains WERE coming, and that hay could not afford to mold.

Immoth took his leave graciously and set about on his own task of delivering precious letters and small packages to eager residents, many of them retrieving envelops glassy eyed and offering Immoth drink and food for their eternal gratitude for delivering the words of loved ones. Immoth accepted all and was most pleased when one elfmaid noticed the condition of his shoes and offered him a newer pair.

They fit him well, and his feet did not hurt when he walked in them. The previous owner of said shoes had apparently left them behind when he decided to sail west and they had spent long enough time in a closet. Immoth was more than happy to give them a new home.

Finally, when the sun began to sink into the west he made his way to the sandy beach and found a rock erected from the sand and sat upon it, the sky was a vibrant orange and red, the clouds above the drowning sun a deep husky purple.

In the West his parents had sailed, and many of his friends, his heart ached for them but he could not go. Would not go.


Nimble hands reached inside the bag at his side and he pulled out his pipe, it took a couple moments and one swear word before he managed to get it lit but when he did Immoth was happy to finally be in a place where he could indulge in smoking, alone.

But he wasn’t alone. The cove was rarely uninhabited and little did he know that that dusk he would be making a new friend that just may have the power to change his destiny.


Merman!soumako AU Prompt Response

((I also reblogged the original post with this fic, but it doesn’t seem to show up on the tags))

WARNING: NOT PROOFREAD PROPERLY, SORRY (( I don’t know if I got their personalities right, so if they’re not, I’m super sorry!! *sweats nervously* Thank you for coming up with this glorious prompt, though!))   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Sousuke’s morning appeared to be anything but normal. In fact, it was straight up odd. Rather than waking up at the usual badgering of his alarm clock at 6:00am, his eyes cracked open at an unusual time of 4:00am. Willing himself back to sleep seemed useless as his legs seemed restless and itching for movement.   So, at the ungodly hour of 5:00, Sousuke found himself in his track suit and running shoes for the first time in 3 years.   Such a situation brought him back to his senior year of high school. The musty smell of a large indoor pool. The Samezuka swim team. Horsing around with Rin, Momo, Nitori.   He was so sure then that he’d become an Olympic swimmer, especially after being scouted. Things change, however, and life often pushes one down an unplanned, sometimes more ominous path.   Not that his path was ominous. He enjoyed his job as a police officer. He helped others and while the typical furrow of his brows and scornful gaze often overtook his face, he enjoyed such a job.   After closing the door of his house to find that his door wouldn’t lock, the 25 year old tisked. More money out of his pocket to fix this godforsaken, poor, rundown excuse of a house he called home.   “Well, I doubt anyone would break into the house of a police officer,” he mused aloud as a faint breeze rippled his dark locks.   And so, without much further thought, Sousuke busied himself with the sound of shoes against pavement and the crisp smell of the world after a rainfall.   On instinct, the young adult’s legs carried him towards the sea as a small smile rose on his lips. The salty air stung his face. He often used to run here every morning along side Rin, both trying to push themselves harder and best one another.   “Times really haven’t changed too much,” he then thought. Rin had become an officer as well. Both were pleasently surprised to meet up at the same police station after being separated during those college years. Now, the two patrolled together. An infamous duo amongst their colleagues. Rin-san, the good cop and Sousuke-san, the bad cop.   Even now they spurred each other to achieve as much as they could in their current job. The pair both aimed for police chief and they’re still fighting their way there, pushing and teasing each other along.The city, however, slept peacefully under their watchful gaze.   Before he knew it, Sousuke was puffing, cheeks flushed and lungs completely out of breath. Running along the beach proved rather harsh this morning. A large storm had taken place the previous night. Iwatobi had fallen under the harsh gloom of thunder and lightning.No one was harmed, but the storm was by no means minimal. Large debris washed up on the shore and proved quite difficult to jog around.   A sharp hiss and the faint scent of blood jerked Sousuke from his thoughts.   Narrowing his eyes, he took a stealthy step towards the area from which the sound had come; a jumble of rocks that were jagged and uninviting.   “Who’s there?” the officer demanded, his hand unconsciously going for his gun, which was, of course, not there. Damn. He was unprepared for this situation.   Although that was the case, he wouldn’t dare to turn tail and run away.   No answer greeted his ears so Sousuke crept closer to the rocks. “I said, who’s there and what are you doing on the beach at this time of day?” he growled, his voice much more forceful.   A terrified gasp caught his ears.   Climbing with care on top of one of the larger rocks, Sousuke looked around for the source of that gasp and what he found left him speechless.   There, upon a pile of rocks was something only found in fairytales. A large man, with an upper body that appeared to match his own laid strewn upon the gravel. His wet hair stuck to his scalp, yet it appeared to be an odd brown, almost with a hue of green. Wide, terrified eyes that put emeralds to shame stared up at him.   Yet, as Sousuke let his gaze wander from those eyes, to the man’s finely toned back, he came to the most startling feature of all. Instead of legs, there was a tail that looked as it belonged to the lower half of an orca.   A mermaid.   He found a fucking mermaid-or, rather-merman.   Yet as he gazed at the glossy tail further, he found where the scent of blood had come from. A large, still bleeding gash ran from the man’s tail fin up to about where his belly button would be.   Locking his gaze back to those green eyes, he saw such a fearful innocence. Briefly, he though of a kicked puppy and sighed.   Slowly climbing down from the rock, Souske padded toward the injured beast carefully. He knew not what such a creature was capable of. His feet came to a halt at the thrash of the bloody tail.   “S-stay back!” the brunet whispered anxiously as if he had no energy to raise his voice. The action caused fresh scabs along the gash to rip open once again.   Blood leaked steadily from the wound and rolled across the rocks, where it finally met the sea and dissipated into nothing.   Sousuke’s gaze softened a small bit at such a pathetic sight. He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Woa, there. I mean no harm. I would never dare hurt anyone injured.”   Receiving no comment in reply, he crept closer. Gently, a reached out a calloused hand to touch the tail. It felt cool and slippery under his touch.   The action elicited a sharp flinch from the merman.   “Sorry,” Sousuke replied and began to take off his track coat and then the white tee-shirt underneath it.   Makoto watched the man remove is clothes, gulping nervously. His eyes caught a brief glance of a well-toned chest. One so ripped a blush grew on his cheeks and he sharply looked away.   How had he ended up like this? He had been swimming with Haruka last night, hunting in the dark waters for any sort of meat to feed their pack. Fish had been scarce and he and Haru didn’t even think twice about going out into the storm to provide for their family.   Things had turned out worse than he planned. He and Haru were violently separated. Even now, he could still feel the slip of Haru’s hand as it was torn from his. After that, his tumble through the ocean was vague. He knew he was pushed along for a while and was eventually thrown against the rocks of this beach, where he was severely wounded and unable to swim back.   Even then, his predicament felt insignificant as a fierce protectiveness rose up inside his chest. Was Haru ok? Was he wounded as well? Could his blue haired friend find his way back to the pack?   Makoto wished he knew the answer to all those questions.   A sharp pain and a pressure on his tail snapped the merman back to reality. The man who found him had torn his tee-shirt to shreds and was now rapping the pieces around his tail.   Dumbstruck, Makoto stared at him in shock, his mouth agape. “What are you doing?” he managed to choke out moments later.   “What does it look like? I’m wrapping your wound and bringing you back with me. You’ll die at this rate,” Sousuke grumbled. Makoto fell silent.   Once the tail was wrapped, Sousuke heaved a sigh and gently picked up the merman, who was surprisingly lighter than he had thought. A small “eep!” came from the beast’s mouth and he smirked as Makoto grabbed onto his track jacket as though his life depended on it.   Sousuke then began to walk back to his house as Makoto submerged himself into his thoughts once again.   He was honestly at a loss. When he saw that human he was sure he was going to die.   Humans were cruel, after all. They fished the waters until there was nothing left for predators like himself to eat. They feared things unknown to them and thus began experimenting with and killing his species.   Makoto’s thoughts then drifted to the kind old merman in his pack when he was just a child. The one who had taught him that fish were more than food. They could be kept and maintained as pets. He gave Makoto his first ever goldfish, a creature he would surely never forget.   Yet, this kind old man was captured by a human fishing boat and never seen again.   He knew this yet, as he gazed up into the human’s blue eyes, sharper than Haru’s, but certainly just as deep, he began to relax. This human was different.   He, a hunter who fought for and protected others felt safe and protected himself. It was a feeling he certainly wasn’t used to.   Feeling the merman relax in his grip, Sousuke looked down at him and finally opened his mouth after a long 40 minute walk of silence. “What’s your name, anyway?” Sousuke asked.   “Makoto. Tachibana Makoto,” the merman responded shyly. “And you?”   “Yamazaki Sousuke” he replied gruffly as he kicked open the door to his home. Tachibana Makoto. It certainly had a nice ring to it.   Gently, he placed Makoto into the bathtub and turned on the water. “Wait here for a while. I have a friend who can take a look at that nasty cut.”   After receiving a nod, Sousuke turned and walked out of the bathroom. Thank goodness he had woken up so early. No one saw them in the streets as citizens were only just beginning to wake up.   Picking up his phone, he dialed a number he knew far too well.   “Ah, Senpai! What do you need so early in the morning?” came an airy voice across the receiver.   Sousuke sighed. When would Nitori stop calling him senpai? They had long since graduated. “Sorry to call you so early, but I have something that you need to look at asap.”   After a small chat were Sousuke only hinted about what Nitori had to examine, the younger male promised to be at his house by eight. Now he had to call Rin to cover for him.   As he dialed the next number, Sousuke looked up at his ceiling. “What an odd morning indeed.”   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ((Aaaaand then Doctor!Nitori comes to patch up Makoto! Then Rin forces his way into Sousuke’s house to see what he’s hiding and is like “oh, shit.” Ahhhh, it’s a perfect prompt to become a multi chapter fic and at first Sousuke just wants to fix up Makoto and then have him leave his life because a merman in his bathroom is too much trouble and the feeling in mutual with Makoto, but then they fall in love and Makoto has the chance to leave but doesn’t want to. And then Haru finds him and tries to bring him home and fvbvhjbvhdbvhbvvhbvh I hope I did this prompt justice.   The dialogue was so forced and idek what I was doing! I’m so sorry!)