a god lives in you — you die a little, every day, just to let Him breathe
sheep song | m.g.

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a god lives in you — you die a little, every day, just to let Him breathe
sheep song | m.g.
...and she ran, chest heaving and arms wide, into the oncoming storm, unafraid and alive and completely captivating.
-Excerpt from The Rise of the Gentle chapter 7: The Gentle Witch
@narnianexus the first excursion: the gentle banner | the gentle witch
@narnianetwork voyage 10: alternate universe - once upon a time
(starring Bradley James as Peter Pevensie, Gemma Arterton as Susan Pevensie, Colin Morgan as Edmund Pevensie, and Daisy Ridley as Lucy Pevensie)
Lucy knows something's wrong with Storybrooke. She can’t remember how she met Ruby or why she keeps having dreams starring the city’s inhabitants as fairytale characters. But she’s not going to rest until she figures it out. Maybe there is some truth to what little Henry Mills keeps spouting. Maybe it will just take a young woman with a heart of a lioness to find out what secrets the city hides.
Edmund doesn’t talk to Lucy and Peter that much anymore after a falling out they had two years ago. He sees them around from time to time but remains distant whenever he speaks to them. The only Pevensie he remains close to is Susan and that’s only because she won’t let him leave her behind. He works for Sheriff Graham at the station to help keep the peace in the city. Little does he know that with the arrival of Emma Swan, things are going to start changing and he's going to be seeing much more of his siblings than he would have thought.
Susan tries to keep the peace between Peter, Edmund, and Lucy but lately she’s started to feel like she’s the only one who cares about staying together as a family. Being an upcoming reporter in a city under the Mayor’s control is hard enough, which is only made harder when she keeps questioning what Mayor Mills and Mr. Gold really are up to. Will she be able to uncover the truth that lays behind Storybrooke or will she be silenced before she can figure out what exactly is going on?
Peter owns The Cair, a beat up bar it may be, but it’s his. He sees Lucy on weekends when she’s not working as a teaching assistant and Susan whenever she drops in to check how he’s doing. He hasn’t seen much of Edmund since their falling out. Peter’s not exactly happy with how his life is but he is content and he doesn’t want to shake that up for anything so he ignores Susan’s questions and Lucy’s feelings of wrongness. Of course that all changes when Susan is hurt late one night following a lead about Mr. Gold and Regina Mills. He isn’t going to be able to play it safe from the sidelines anymore. Now he has to be the big brother again and find out who exactly is hurting his siblings, and that starts by having a talk with Edmund on what story Susan was hunting down.
i. nylons Your chainmail is gone now, turned to rust and withered away, replaced by black stockings with a black heart to match that pumps anger and hate and defiance through every inch of your, now, unmarred skin, despite the wars you’ve lived despite the life you had. The gowns are gone now and blouses and skirts are all that remain, are all the rage and fashion of modern days, precariously protecting you from the wandering hands in the light when you walk though this land, the Shadow Land, built on deception and deceit with the Lion that stalks your every move in the shadows of glass buildings and still trees, with it’s claws and teeth drawn, waiting patiently, tail swinging, to sink them quick and deep in your flesh in the shadows of sleep once more. You don’t give Him the chance, there are no openings for Him, not anymore. ii. lipsticks Your eyes are painted black sharp and wicked as you paralyze any who dare step in your way. You smile with lips the colour of blood, as deep and dark as the arrows you once unleashed, teeth drawn, sharp and white and pointed, -Unnatural, you hear from behind. Deadly, you think to yourself.- waiting and waiting for any fools to open their mouths, wanting to feel the satisfaction when you rip them into shreds (like you have been, time and time again). You are more monster than girl now, more dark and wild than the gentle and obedient servant you were moulded to be. You know better than to give a knife to your friends and think you are safe. Not after He showed you the error of your ways, with body piled on body of your family, broken and bloody and beaten and gone, left behind for only you to claim. Even the little lioness, the favoured one. Brave and free and valiant, but left as cold and dead as the Witch you were called to fight, once upon a time, a lifetime ago, when He was done. Called upon like puppets dangling from strings, that you once believed reached the sky but opened your eyes only to discover they were being pulled taut into His bloodied and open red maw as he reeled you in, one by one, feeding off of your Trust and Devotion and Loyalty and Faith. Only you noticed, the blood that dripped from your skin from the teeth that bit and the claws that scratched under the guise of Affection and Love. Only you noticed, and only you found the Courage to break free of the strings that bound and cut at you, tearing yourself into pieces in the process. iii. invitations You face them now, a warrior, a goddess, a slayer of monsters and demons and Deception, going to battle any naysayers and disbelievers who tremble at your power, at your transformation, at your ressurection. You reach inside yourself to destroy the Lion that feeds on you, a parasite, tearing it out just as it tore you open when it settled itself inside your breast and dug its way into your heart, feeding off of your Youth and Naivety, insatiable. You pray to Gods, but Him no longer, not the beast hiding in the lion skin it wears, a trophy of an old conquest. You pray to the Gods, ones who take and take, just as you do in return. A circle of balance and peace and power, of beginning and end. Night watches over you, offering solace and anonymity in Her arms, taking, in return, your pain and tears and nightmares. Day peeks through every now and then, with Her warmth and protection and fire, taking your demons and feeding off of your despair. To Sorrow, who sits silently by your side in your grief, who provides comfort and companionship, you give your future to do with it what She will. Anger walks with you, side by side, Thrumming and flighty, giving you the ability to give a painful sting, to all the ones who have wronged you, taking, in return, the peace and calm of forgotten days. To Life and Death, the Ones who you’ve conquered time and time again, you give all that’s left without care. When He will see you again, you will grin, fierce and sharp and deadly, with a mouth painted red, a parody of the day He took them from you. He is forgotten now, just as you were. It’s time, my dear. To rise like the girl we know you to be, to shed that last life, another past life, and breathe again as you soar higher than any before you, higher than even He has dared to go.
— no longer a friend | m.g.
corruption sleeps within the tainted and they are human, no longer
demonic sorrow | m.g.
The fear of falling asleep and waking to finding many years have passed again keeps me awake at night. I have lost too much, and yet, find myself having more to lose still.
-Excerpt from The Gentle Witch’s Night Journal, Day 54 A.C.
(note when the Gentle Witch writes A.C., she means after cryostasis)
@narnianexus the first excursion: the gentle banner | the gentle witch (insp.)
You pile blame after blame at my feet. How much is actually mine to carry?
I may not always be blameless, but I am not always at fault | m.g.
You made a home for yourself in the space between my heartbeats. You sound in my silence.
if my heart was ripped open, you would spill out | m.g.