#And those distant lands I am really have to stand and all will follow

[autumnbaguette]

Tokyo, 12.22 am.

"Mam, you haven't sleep in two days now. You seems restless since we arrived in Tokyo."

You look at your assistant, well groomed middle aged man, crisp black suit, the only person trusted by the elder to 'accompany' you while being stationed overseas.

"Is that so? Well, I guess i will take a rest for a bit then. The reports can wait yes?". You stand up and walk out from your office. Your assistant follow right away.

Here you are. In the living room that have this big window looking out the Tokyo city skyline. The shimmering lights of the city under, pretty yet somehow so distant and lonely, reminding you of someone you used to know.

"I'll sleep for a few hours and continue with the reports. You can leave your post and take a rest too."

"Thank you Mam. But please take this." He hand you several pills. "You can't sleep without these. I will report to the elders that you take the medicine regurlary."

A bitter pang hit your chest. Damn those elders. Whose fault is that anyway. You take the pills and swallow it.

"Thank you, you are dismissed."

With that, your assistant leave the penthouse. It is quiet now. Eeriely quiet. So you went to the bedroom, walking towards the closet. Changing your clothes into a white shirt thats too big for you. It looks a bit worn out but it will do. You lay on the bed, not even bother to open the bed cover. Again, those night skyline caught your attention. You can't help but wondering Where is he now?

As you about to close your eyes, you sense a presence. A familiar one and you know exactly who it is.

"Yami yori idete yami yori kuroku, sono kegare o misogiharae." You chant the barrier without even bother to open your eyes.

"I see that you're still wearing my shirt as pajamas. Old habit die hard really."

That voice, that damn voice. Sounds so laid back as if nothing bad ever happens. The last time you see him was after the confrontation in shibuya. He doesn't even say good bye, or sorry at least. The fact that everything went downhill afterwards, your relationship with Gojo getting colder and distant as the time passed by. It is a well known fact that You and Gojo somehow blame each other for the downfall of Geto Suguru.

"What do you want, Suguru?" You asked him, again doesn't even bother to open your eyes. Is it the fact that you are so sleepy because of the pills or the fact that you can't trust yourself about all the things that you gonna do to him if you open your eyes. Kill him? Maybe not. But begging him one last time to go back to you seems much more reasonable now.

The bed dipped and he sat beside you. Suguru study your face. Eyes closed, your lashes is a bit damp. Darker eyebags. And he notice your hair. Its different colour now. As pretty as always he thought. His finger caress your cheek, you fluttered your eyes open and meet with his dull grey eyes.

None of you or Suguru said anything. As if both of you really understand each other. Or maybe you just want to kill the time. Maybe if you stay silent without asking any question, he will stay longer.

"Shall I kill the elders? They overworked you a lot." His hand wander to your hair, stroking it gently. You can't help but smile and chuckle a little bit. "That would be great, but no Suguru."

"Or maybe you can just quit? Buy a land in rural area, raise some chickens and ducks. Plants lots of flowers and fruit trees.  Remember that? Have a simple life."

It is strange that after what happened, after all these years, here you are with Suguru, having a small talk like some kind of married couple do at the end of their day. No hatred, no baggage whatsoever.

Indeed you want it, a simple life with him.

Tracing his face with your finger. Almost no differences since the last time you saw him. A little bit freckles here and there. Those small lines at the end of his eyes. No eyebags though. His hair is still the same, the earings, his smile.  

"Im sorry." You said. "I should've known." This time your finger cares his cheek, "Can you just go back? I will do my best explaining everything to the elders, to Satoru. Im sure he will listen, you are still his bestfriend afte-."

"No." Suguru cut you off. His tone is cold, distant.

"Nothing will ever change my ideology, my plan and my future. I love you, i still do. But it doesnt put you at the top of my list. You should be aware of it by now."

Indeed, this is Suguru. The real one. Everyone sees him as the emphathetic, the calm and the good ones compare to Satoru. Yet, this side of him never really caught their eyes. How determine he is once he set his goal, nothing gonna stop him. Not even you, not even his family, not even his bestfriend Gojo Satoru.

It would be a lie to say his words doesn't hurt you. It hurt a lot, you want to cry. Screaming at him but here you are, looking at him. Still caressing his face gently, afraid that if you do it harder He's gonna fall apart like a fine china. Crumbling into pieces.

So, it's okay.

It's gonna be okay.

"I know, but i still wanna take my chances." you said while smilling, trying hard to stay awake since the pills starting to get you sleepier than before.

He doesn't say anything. Suguru watch your face as the sleep starts to take over. His hands keep stroking your cheeks gently. To be honest, he kinda expect you to get hostile with him. Maybe curse him a little bit when he appear, or maybe you will cast a curse spell to hurt him. But you did none of it, somehow he feels relieve but sad at the same time.

Your breathing becomes steady, thats a cue for Suguru to take his leave. One final look at you, "I'm sorry. I promised to make you the happiest yet somehow I always ended up hurting you the most."

He kiss your forehead, correcting your sleep position and pull the blanket over you. Still adoring your face for one last time, "Good night my love. Until we meet again."

[sometipsygnostalgic]

i can make up a lot of reasons for why i just sort of disappeared from Adventure Time fandom a second time after an intense nine months being part of the Distant Lands community

i am pretty sure that the main reason is simply that following the airing of the last special there was very little left in terms of healthy fandom engagement, the main characters being... gone, and the only news left being for fionna and cake in an ambiguous amount of time in the future. it’s good to move onto greener pastures at that stage. not discarding AT completely but moving away from core fandom. 

the Distant Lands server i was in, well, it was a joy! but it was a very young membership so i couldn’t really engage freely like i can now with older fans. Also there were certain adult users who had migrated there from the older AT discords who i couldnt fucking stand. i want to stay away from some people and they are inescapable. sometimes i pop in and say hi again but those guys are always the ones talking most. 

however the most annoying thing of all time which was the biggest stick for me, it was definitely waking up on Reddit and Twitter every morning to more discourse about Princess Bubblegum, my favourite character.

What was the nature of this discourse? 

Twitter: “Princess Bubblegum was a bitch actually” - 9000 likes 800 QRTs everyone on Twitter talking about it all day and how wrong or right it is. How annoying. 

Meanwhile on reddit: 

“Princess Bubblegum is a lesbian” - okay nice, headcanon time--

“PRINCESS BUBBLEGUM CAN’T BE A LESBIAN BECAUSE SHE DATED FINN” - What??? Why???

There would be HUNDREDS of comments, EVERY other day with the same reposted meme, about whether PB is a lesbian or not.

Sometimes I would get involved with my own “evidence” - I argued hard that it’s a valid interpretation and probably canon - but it’s so alienating to me to have to pick apart my favourite character’s sexuality, as if sexuality is just something I can analyse like anything else. I’m a bisexual girl myself so it was particularly odd but also so creepy to see everyone else’s takes of “PB can’t be gay because Weird Thing That Proves Shes Definitely Into Finn”. 

Never again. We start arguing sexuality discourse again I’m going to pull out the Terezigun. 

Actually, Terezi and Vriska were the first characters I saw this sort of bullshit with. People arguing whether they were gay or bi, kind of treating it as if them being bi would be the end of the world. I thought it was a pretty valid interpretation of them being gay and had some interesting story to tell if it was true, but I more sort of interpreted them as being bisexual victims of compulsory heterosexuality rather than being closeted gay, whereas some of my friends at the time were more than a little aggro to bisexual fans... 

[simple-seranade]

hi hello I would like to present to you this silly little idea: seablings but Life series edition

Lizzie can't remember Jimmy, nor does she really remember Last Life, but she has this strong sense of needing to protect him. She doesn't realize that's her brother, that's the person she's been forced to abandon so many times because she can't remember why can't she remember anything what is wrong with her

Jimmy remembers her though. Jimmy remembers being loved unconditionally and having that torn away from him because tragedy must follow those who bare the canary's wings. Jimmy recognizes her and has to tell himself that this isn't Empires but void, does he wish he could run to his sister when he's too tired to care anymore

But it doesn't matter. Lizzie doesn't remember him. Jimmy is tired of listening.

So why is she trying so hard to team up with him now?

How did she manage to save him from the curse only for Them to strike him down moments later?

:]

I will cry. I will become a Puddle Of Tears On The Floor

i don’t know if you meant this as limited life or what but i am placing this in Unnamed Life Series Game for a moment

I’ve Got You, Brother

Lizzie knows something is wrong. Somewhere deep in her blood, she knows.

It has something to do with that blonde boy, she’s sure of it.

TW: blood, death, all that fun Life Series stuff

not proofread because i’m writing this at like eleven but it’s f i n e

—————

The grass is green.

The grass is crumbled and black and dying, turning to ash under the force of the explosion.

The sky is blue, and then it isn’t, turning a dark inky black, then right back to blue again.

The sky is red and grey, filled with smoke as she coughs and cries out through the crumbling streets of the Grimlands for her brother, where is her brother, where is he?

The water of the river is blueish-green.

The water is disappearing and she knows she should care, but she doesn’t. It’s enough to scare her, but not enough to get her to say a thing as water gives way to dirt and stone and dry land and she wonders why she’s here, where this palace came from, why should she stay?

Lizzie knows these basic facts. She has eyes, thank you very much. They have reasoning and proof behind them, and they’re consistent in this bloody game of backstabbing and death. Some of the reliable truths she can ground herself in when she’s so confused, when Joel is shouting at the others and Pearl is telling her they have to run and Jimmy, Jimmy is quiet and she knows it’s wrong, that Jimmy is wrong, but-

Her mind hits the same block it’s hit for the entirety of the game. Something is off, just off enough that she knows it, but she doesn’t know why she knows it. Why she sees Jimmy’s smile twitch slightly and know the comments have gone to far. Why she feels such a genuine surge of remorse each time his death message pops up in chat.

Why she steps blindly between Joel’s axe and Jimmy’s chest, chuckling nervously that they should go find another topic.

The games usually have a memory block, sure, but- this is different. It’s not hazy recollections of an experience so distant it might be a dream. It’s something ingrained deep in her bones, crying out in words her mind has long forgotten.

She has the fleeting thought to go find Joel, but he’s snoring a few feet away. She doesn’t need to go find him, he’s right there. He’s right there.

He’s right there, standing at the altar with the most nervous look she’s ever seen on his face as the other emperors mingle.

He’s right there, holding her hand as the last of her memory fades before leaving her on the beach.

She doesn’t know why they’re fuzzy. Why Joel and Pearl and Scott and Jimmy all ignite that same ache deep inside her, like a part of her has been torn away and hastily stitched back together with thread that clashes horrible with the shades of her heart. She hates it, because she’s apathetic towards it. Her brain actively tries to ignore these signals, these alarm bells sounding in her soul, and she just wants to listen to them and find out what’s wrong, she’s so tired and scared and confused someone please just tell her where her brother is-

She needs to get out of this damned base, the air must be getting to her. Yeah. It’s the air.

It’s only a moment before the spruce door is shutting softly behind her, Joel and Pearl none the wiser. Wind blows her pink hair past her eyes, and she grumbles as she twists it back into a braid.

With her hair finally tamed, she sighs, tilting her head back as she listens to the night. Thankfully they’ve spawnproofed the area, so there are no nearby creeper hisses or rattling of bones. Just the quiet whistling of the wind, the occasional hum of an enderman, the soft sound of hiccuping sobs, the leaves rustling in the trees-

Wait.

It’s much more noticeable now that she’s noticed it, which she’s fully aware is redundant, but that’s the only way she can describe it. Like her brain was hoping she just… wouldn’t notice it if she didn’t think about it too hard.

Focus. Focus.

Focus because the crying sounds familiar. Focus because it has your feet moving and your heart pumping with no input from you at all. Focus because you already have a name on your lips as you round the corner, one that you have no business in guessing.

Focus because Jimmy is sitting by the riverbank, crying.

She doesn’t realize she’s beside him until he jolts under the touch of her fingers carding through his golden hair. He freezes, wings twitching and shoulders shuddering from the effort of suppressed sobs. “Sorry- I didn’t mean- I didn’t think you-“

“Do you need a hug?”

Silence.

Then he melts into the touch, turning and leaning his face into her shoulder as she plays with his hair, whispering quiet words in his ears. They’re drowned out by his own, ones she doesn’t understand.

“I jus’- I jus’ want you back. I jus’ want to be a brother again.” He murmurs, and she doesn’t think she’s supposed to hear this. “Please, please, whoever is listening, I just want to be a brother again. I- I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good, I’ll die first, I’ll do whatever you need, but please- please-“

“No.”

She doesn’t know why she says the word, where it comes from, but the words ‘I’ll die’ coming out of Jimmy’s mouth sends such a cold bolt of fear through her that she doesn’t care.

“Don’t- It’ll be ok, Jimmy. I promise.”

He laughs, wooden and hopeless against her shoulder. “Don’t make promises that can’t be kept. It’s fine, Lizzie. You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t worry about me, period. Not here.”

“Jimmy, I-“

“Can we just keep hugging? Please? I need to pretend everything is normal. Jus’ for a bit longer.”

“… yeah. Yeah, sure.”

She doesn’t know when she fell asleep. All she knows is one moment, Jimmy is in her arms, and the next, she’s shaken awake by Joel with no sign of the blond but the golden canary feather tucked behind her ear.

—————

The world is chaos.

That hasn’t changed.

There’s blood starting to stain the ground.

Just like back then.

Everyone is screaming, she’s at low hearts with broken armor and an arrow in her shoulder, Pearl has Cleo engaged in a swordfight that Lizzie suspects she isn’t fully trying to win- it’s still going on after all- and Joel is arming his axe with that look in his red eyes.

She loves Joel.

She loves Joel.

She doesn’t want anyone to die.

Please don’t let anyone have died.

Joel lunges forward, diving into the frenzy. The Reds have turned on each other faster than usual- there are still yellows. There are still yellows, and yet.

And yet.

No one has permadied, but there’s no doubt that won’t last for long, not when Joel is cackling, swinging his axe with wild abandon, completely blinded by bloodlust and not even noticing who he charges for as he swings at-

At-

At golden canary wings. At blonde hair and brown eyes as a heart of gold. At a man who already looks resigned to his fate.

He’ll hate himself for this, if he does it. She knows that much about Joel for sure.

“I’m gonna protect him, if it comes down to it. He- he gets so sad, Lizzie. I don’t like seeing him like that.”

She’ll hate herself for it, if she doesn’t stop it.

“I’m sorry I left. I won’t do it again, I swear it.”

The sound of the axe slicing through fabric and flesh fills the air. Joel laughs, throwing his head back before his comm buzzes. He looks down, expecting the message that means he’s winning.

His heart shatters.

LDShadowlady was slain by SmallishBeans

Lizzie is dead. He killed her. She’s gone.

It’s not long before he charges off again, considerably more unsteady on his feet and tears streaming down his face. Lizzie watches him run through the carnage.

It hurts more than you would expect, being a ghost. The sharp sting of an axe wound across her chest isn’t fading, and she can barely make heads or tails of what’s happening in the realm of the living. It’s thick, hazy, dripping down her vision like a cold sludge. She sees just enough to watch the arrow fly. To watch it find its mark, right in the back.

Then he’s in front of her, clutching his chest and heaving.

Jimmy.

Her brother.

Her eyes widen as she thinks it, no longer messy static covering the words.

Her brother.

Her brother.

Her brother.

She’s pulling him into a hug before he’s even aware she’s there, squeezing tight and trying not to cry.

“I’m not- I didn’t die first. I didn’t- Lizzie? Lizzie, you-“

“Jimmy,” is all she can say as tears fall from her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I- I forgot- I-“

“No, don’t apologize, never apologize. You- you saved me, Lizzie.” The words are spoken with no small amount of awe and wonder, and soon she feels tears hitting her shoulder.

She has a brother again. She’s a sister again.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

—————

that got mildly out of hand, but I hope you enjoyed lol

[lysnthere]

Waterfall

The sound of steps followed you, wet land squishing beneath your soles.

You were all warm and fuzzy from the hang-out you had with the tall skeleton an hour before, but the feeling was slowly fading away the further you walked in the soothing atmosphere. The splash of water and a distant song kept you company as you walked.

You decided to stop for a brief moment in a small woodsy bridge that connected the scattered pieces of land, steady among the blue glowing water. You sat down, legs dangling on the air as you were on the verge side.

“enjoying the view?”

You looked up, the skeleton with the blue jacket, Sans!

“Just taking a break, care to join?”

“heh, if you insist in prying me off of my work”

“Oh please…” you give an airy laugh his way.

He sat beside you, hands cozily stuck in his pockets, head up, watching the ceiling. You followed his gaze, looking up yourself.

Stars made of gems.

“how… how do they really look?”

You give him a glance before looking away again, sighing

“It’s hard to explain…. But I can assure you, that is one hell of a sight!” you smile longing “Is similar to those above us, the stars are silver, with a gentle hue of light adorning them, making the sky a deep dark blue, sometimes… You can see a comet speed across it, we call those-”

“shooting stars, yeah…”

“And if you see one, remember to cast a wish!” you giggle “Then we have the moon, a silver coin in a dotted dark cloth, sometimes it’s big, sometimes it’s small, it’s always changing, never the same”

.

.

sob

.

.

“I’ll never see them again..” you choke another sob “I’ll never see the stars again, nor the moon, not the sun and the clouds, I’ll die here, in the darkness…” you don’t hold up any longer, burying your face in your hands, sobbing, thick tears rolling down, your nostrils getting less and less air. “H-how did you all made it up? For ages, buried in s-some, stupid m-mountain!”

Sans finally looks away from the ceiling and at you, he takes a moment, taking a deep breath in.

“hope is the last to die…” he deepens himself in his hoodie, now looking at the flowing water “we’re all holding up to something, someone.. we know that is our right to be under the sky, to have a real home outside this hole, so we wait, we’re patient enough to ‘stick around for as long as needed, some of us don’t… but we persist, that little determination in every monster soul screams to…”

Silence again, now the distant song a little louder, you try to concentrate yourself in the notes, wiping the tears off your face. You take a deep breath, and slowly gets up, steadying yourself on your two feet as the dizziness of crying gets to you.

“I… I hope that my soul is going to be of any help, if it means it will give a needing piece to free all of monster kind… I’m willingly to let go, after all….”

“I did come here to find an end”

“HUH? What do you mean?”

“If you’re the head of the royal guard, I am willing to give you my soul…” you look down at your feet

Undyne looked skeptical at you, but her eyes softened when she saw you standing there, her spear centimeters from your wobly form.

“I… We thank you human” she takes her phone and in an instant she calls someone “Hey, I need one of your short-cuts”

Your ears started buzzing, your eyes unfocused as someone with a blue jacket appeared from thin air, they exchanged some words and before you knew it in a blur you found yourself in a room filled with flowers, golden buttercups of a great size dotted the floor a tall figure looming over you.

Everything is a blur... the tall fire-haired guard and the blue jacketed skeleton stood behind as the tall white monster gently led you away from the flowers and into a long white corridor.

Another battle, but this time you didn’t bulge, your eyes looking but not..

a hit

another hit

damage, pain, but you didn’t move…

From your blurry vision you could see the man with a pitiful look in his eyes, and before the last strike was made, you smiled gently and quietly mouthed a weak ‘thank you’

everything went dark

But before the quiet, you could hear the sound of streaming water, and a soft, whimsical music, and on top of you, there wasn’t a ceiling but the stars and the moon.

“Now all we need is one last soul”

[fandomrave]

The Baby In Yellow Babysitter POV (Unfinished)

“Hola, diablo. My name is Layla Cardenas. You killed my grandmother, Taliah Cardenas. My mother, Lulu Cardenas, barely escaped from you with her life. Now, I have returned to destroy you once and for all, and bring an end to your reign of terror.” 

“Layla! Wake up!” 

A grumbling teenager opens her eyes. 

“Ay, mama. What is it?” 

“It’s time to leave for your babysitting gig.” A grown woman walks over to the teenager lying across her bed. She swats at her. “I told you not to stay up late playing all those games.”

“I’m fine. It was just a quick nap.” Layla gets up onto her feet. “I’ll be back later tonight.” Worry flashes on her mother’s face. “You sure you’ll be alright?” She says. Layla waves her off dismissively, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Yes, yes. It’s not like I’m babysitting el bebe en amarillo. And yes, I got proof.”

“Well…” The mother bites her lip. “Okay.”

“Adios, mama.” Layla says as she walks out the door and to her car. She pulls out of the driveway. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got your lucky charm with me.” As she drives away, her smile fades. “I’m sorry mom. I have to do this. I have to destroy him. And I really do have your lucky charm.” Her hand floats down to her necklace. A blue crescent moon made out of some beautiful stone. “And you’ll keep me safe, won’t you? You want to win.” She gives a worried smile. Her hands grip the steering wheel. “And even if you don’t….even if I die…I have to stop him. Whatever it takes. Let’s kill that diablo.”

Layla’s hand rests on the doorknob to the apartment. “Moment of truth. No turning back now.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not scared.” She reminds herself. With that, she opens the door.

The apartment shakes violently, and the baby is nowhere to be seen. 

“Ah! What the-?! What’s-what’s that?!” She braces herself against a wall. “Everything is tilted, and I swear…I can see something.” She glances at the corner of her eye. “Not see, exactly. But know. I just know. Across the shore, in distant lands. What does that mean? Enter the apartment. Done. Now…follow the black cat? What black cat? Is this el diablo? Or maybe…you?” She shakes her head and stands up straight. “Okay, black cat. Where’s the black cat?”She peers into the kitchen, takes a peek into the bathroom. “Come on….” She climbs the stairs. “Oh, hello.” She spots the pawprints and steps into the closet. She turns off the tv and starts to climb. “I hope this is safe. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it’s not. But if it’s a way, it’s a way.” She steps into the upstairs hallway. “Oh hello. I hope you aren’t evil. Oh, we’re going into the painting? Okay. I like the decor here- Ouch!” She gets thrown back and falls on her butt. It feels like something pulled on her. The painting still keeps trying to suck her in. “Hey, what was tha-?” She looks behind her and her face pales. “You.” The painting sucks her in. 

She gets to her feet. “Oh, this is beautiful. Kinda looks like my necklace too. Keep following the black cat. Only way to go is forward.” She reaches the cat. “Hello beautiful. Oh, you seem trustworthy. Hey, where’d you go?” The room shakes. “Oh no, not again.” She grumbles, and then everything goes dark.

“Curiosity. Quick as you can, follow me. Through the portal, don’t let him see. The Black Cat.” Layla mutters. 

She’s whisked through the air and lands on her chest, right in front of the cat. “Ow…” She gets to her feet and sees the cat is gone. “Where’d you go…? Over here?”

[dfroza]

A defense

(clearly stating his case against the opposition)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 22nd chapter of the book of Acts:

Paul: Brothers and fathers, please let me defend myself against these charges.

When they heard him speaking Aramaic, a hush came over the crowd.

Paul: I am a Jew, born in Tarsus in Cilicia. I was raised here in Jerusalem and was tutored in the great school of Gamaliel. My education trained me in the strict interpretation of the law of our ancestors, and I grew zealous for God, just as all of you are today. I encountered a movement known as the Way, and I considered it a threat to our religion, so I persecuted it violently. I put both men and women in chains, had them imprisoned, and would have killed them— as the high priest and the entire council of elders will tell you. I received documentation from them to go to Damascus and work with the brothers there to arrest followers of the Way and bring them back to Jerusalem in chains so they could be properly punished. I was on my way to Damascus. It was about noon. Suddenly a powerful light shone around me, and I fell to the ground. A voice spoke: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?” I answered, “Who are You, Lord?” The voice replied, “I am Jesus of Nazareth, the One you persecute.”

My companions saw the light, but they didn’t hear the voice. I asked, “What do You want me to do, Lord?” The Lord replied, “Get up and go to Damascus; you will be given your instructions there.” Since the intense light had blinded me, my companions led me by the hand into Damascus. I was visited there by a devout man named Ananias, a law-keeping Jew who was well spoken of by all the Jews living in Damascus. He said, “Brother Saul, regain your sight!” I could immediately see again, beginning with Ananias standing before me. Then he said, “You have been chosen by the God of our ancestors to know His will, to see the Righteous One, and to hear the voice of God. You will tell the story of what you have seen and heard to the whole world. So now, don’t delay. Get up, be ceremonially cleansed through baptism, and have your sins washed away, as you call on His name in prayer.”

I returned to Jerusalem, and I was praying here in the temple one day. I slipped into a trance and had a vision in which Jesus said to me, “Hurry! Get out of Jerusalem fast! The people here will not receive your testimony about Me.” I replied, “But Lord, they all know that I went from synagogue to synagogue imprisoning and beating everyone who believed in You. They know what I was like and how I stood in approval of the execution of Stephen, Your witness, when he was stoned. I even held the coats of those who actually stoned him.” Jesus replied, “Go, for I am going to send you to distant lands to teach the outsiders.”

They were listening quietly up until he mentioned the outsiders.

Crowd (shouting): Away with him! Such a man can’t be allowed to remain here. Kill him! He must die!

Chaos broke out again. People were shouting, slamming their coats down on the ground, and throwing fistfuls of dust up in the air. The commandant ordered the soldiers to bring Paul to the barracks and flog him until he confessed to whatever he had done to stir up this outrage.

Back at the barracks, as they tied him up with leather thongs, Paul spoke to a nearby officer.

Paul: Is this legal—for you to flog a Roman citizen without a trial?

The officer went and spoke to the commandant.

Officer: What can you do about this? Did you know this fellow is a Roman citizen?

Commandant (rushing to Paul’s side): What’s this? Are you really a Roman citizen?

Paul: Yes.

Commandant: I paid a small fortune for my citizenship.

Paul: I was born a citizen.

Hearing this, those who were about to start the flogging pulled back, and the commandant was concerned because he had arrested and bound a citizen without cause. He still needed to conduct an investigation to uncover the Jews’ accusations against Paul. So the next day, he removed the ties on Paul and called a meeting with the chief priests and council of elders. He brought Paul in and had him stand before the group.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 22 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

These Jewish leaders are prepared to squabble with Paul about the law. But in his wisdom, Paul disarms them with his story. He is one of them; and on his journey to defend Judaism against these Christian heretics, he encountered the living God. How can anyone dispute his experience? He was trained by trustworthy Jews and lived his life according to their strict interpretation of the law. When Paul invites his audience into his experience with the supernatural, it makes debating the finer points of the law seem ridiculous. It would be like antagonizing Moses while he reiterated God’s message heard through the burning bush. But prejudice is apparently stronger than any divine message. Paul has them hanging on to every word from his mouth, until he speaks of the outsiders. The crowd immediately rises from their silence into a furious rage. The message is clear—if your revelation extends beyond our people, we will hear nothing of it. How could all of these students of the Hebrew Scriptures have been so ignorant about God’s intentions to rescue all people? The prophets declared God’s plan to offer grace to Jews and non-Jews, but no one in this crowd considered that good news.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Exodus:

Not long after, Moses and Aaron confronted Pharaoh.

Moses and Aaron: The Eternal, Israel’s God, has a message for you: “Release My people, so that they may go and celebrate a feast in My honor in the desert.”

Pharaoh: And who is this god you call “the Eternal One” that I should heed His message and release His people Israel? I do not know any god by that name, and furthermore I do not intend to release Israel.

Moses and Aaron: The God of the Hebrews has visited us. We ask that you allow us to travel three days’ distance into the desert to sacrifice to the Eternal our God. Otherwise, He may become angry and come after us with disease or sword.

Pharaoh: Moses and Aaron, why are you distracting people from their work? Stop wasting time, and get back to your labor!

Look, there are vast numbers of people in this land who should be working; instead they are all idle because of you.

That same day, Pharaoh gave instructions to the slave drivers who were over the people and their supervisors.

Pharaoh: Don’t supply the people with any more straw to make bricks as you have been doing. Let them go out and find their own straw. But I still want you to expect the same number of bricks from them as before. Even though the task will be harder, do not lessen their load! They are lazy and are asking for time off, saying, “Release us so that we can go sacrifice to our God in the desert and feast in His honor.” Therefore, make the work so heavy that the men don’t have the energy to do anything but work; perhaps then they won’t be distracted by these lies!

Slave Drivers and Supervisors (to the people): Pharaoh has a message for you: “I am not going to supply you with any more straw. You must go out and get it for yourselves��wherever you can find it—but you must produce the same number of bricks as before. Your workload will not be reduced.”

The people quickly and desperately spread out across the land of Egypt looking for dry stalks of grain to use for straw. The slave drivers pushed them hard.

Slave Drivers: Hurry, you must meet your quotas. You must produce the same number of bricks as you did before when we provided you with straw.

Plus they beat and interrogated the supervisors of the Israelites, the Hebrews whom the slave drivers had appointed over the workers.

Slave Drivers: Why are you lagging behind? Why haven’t you met your quotas of bricks yesterday or today as you did before?

The supervisors of the Israelites were unable to meet the demands and so they appealed to Pharaoh.

Supervisors (pleading with Pharaoh): Why are you treating your servants this way? No more straw is being provided to your servants, yet the slave drivers keep yelling at us, “Make bricks!” And then your servants are beaten; it is your people who are at fault here, not us.

Pharaoh: No. It is you. You are lazy! You are all so very lazy! You try to escape your work by making up excuses, saying, “Please release us so that we may go sacrifice to the Eternal.” Leave me now, and get back to work, you indolent whiners! You will not be provided any straw, and you must make the same number of bricks as before.

The supervisors of the Israelites knew they were in deep trouble when they were told, “You are not to lessen the workload. You must still make the same number of bricks every day as you did before.” After the supervisors left Pharaoh, they went directly to Moses and Aaron who were already waiting for them.

Supervisors (to Moses and Aaron): May the Eternal see and judge what you have done. Now because of you Pharaoh and all who serve him look on us as if we were some kind of disgusting odor. You might as well have put the sword in their hands they will use to kill us.

Moses went back to meet with the Eternal One.

Moses: Eternal, these are Your people. Why have You brought so much trouble on them? And why have You sent me here? Ever since I approached Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has done more harm to them than ever before. And You have done absolutely nothing to rescue Your people.

The Book of Exodus, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, April 26 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about “awakening”:

THE MOST IMPORTANT FACT OF ALL HISTORY - and that which radically transforms everything else - is the resurrection of Yeshua from the dead (תחייתו של משיח). Spiritual life means being awake to the risen reality and saving Presence of Yeshua, the One who Overcame and vanquished the power of death. Without Him we are hopeless; with Him we are more than conquerors (1 Cor. 15:14; Rom. 8:37). The resurrection means Yeshua is forever alive, and that today he hears your heart's cry. He is surely able to help you, and nothing can overthrow his invincible will. Our Lord suffered and died for your inner peace and healing, but now death has no hold over him, and he "ever lives to make intercession for you" (Rom. 6:9, Heb. 7:25). He is your compassionate Advocate (παράκλητος, lit. "one called alongside") who gives you heavenly comfort (1 John 2:1). Even more: The very power that raised Yeshua from the dead now dwells in you (Rom. 8:11). The miracle of new life is "Messiah in you - the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27). The Lord will never leave you nor forsake you (Heb 13:5): He "sticks closer than a brother" (Prov. 18:24); He sustains your way, and he will perfect the work of salvation on your behalf (Jude 1:24). In short, there simply is no "gospel" message apart from the resurrection! The resurrection is the victory of God's plan of salvation - His everlasting vindication over the powers of darkness - for your life.

Everything turns on whether we awaken to the risen Reality

and Presence of Yeshua in our lives...

The Talmud says "All the world was created for the Messiah" (Sanhedrin 98b). The New Testament had earlier said the same thing: "All things were created by Him (i.e., Yeshua), and for Him" and in Him all things consist (συνεστηκεν, lit. "stick together") (Col. 1:16-17). Indeed, all of creation is being constantly upheld by the word of the Messiah's power (Heb. 1:3). Creation begins and ends with the redemptive love of God as manifested in the Person of Yeshua our LORD... The Messiah is the Center of Creation - its beginning and end. As it is written: אָנכִי אָלֶף וְתָו רִאשׁוֹן וְאַחֲרוֹן ראשׁ וָסוֹף / "I am the 'Aleph' and the 'Tav,' the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End" (Rev. 22:13). "For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen" (Rom. 11:36). Yeshua our Messiah is called מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים / Melech Malchei Hamelachim: The "King of kings of kings." He is LORD of all possible worlds -- from the highest celestial glory to the dust of death upon a cross. Yehi shem Adonai mevorakh (יְהִי שֵׁם יהוה מְברָךְ): "Let the Name of the LORD be blessed" forever and ever (Psalm 113:2). So while we can agree with the Talmud's general statement that the world was created “for the Messiah,” we would insist that the name of the Messiah is none other than Yeshua, God's Son, and indeed, there is no other (Acts 4:12).

The heart of faith sees Elohei Yishi (אֱלהֵי יִשְׁעִי), the "God of my salvation," namely, the One who was and is and is to come (הַהוֶה וְהָיָה וְיָבוֹא) – the LORD our God Yeshua (Rev. 1:4;8; Isa. 41:4). The early Christian theologian Augustine of Hippo (354-430 AD) rendered Elohei Yishi as "God my Jesus," since "Jesus" (i.e., Yeshua) rightly means YHVH saves. Yeshua is the One who breathed life into the first Adam just as He is the One who breathes eternal life into those who are descended from Him, the great "second Adam."

Amen. He is alive, and we know this because of the testimony of Scripture, and because we also experience His glorious presence in our hearts. Shalom chaverim!

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 18:46 reading:

hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm18-46-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm18-46-lesson.pdf

For more see:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Holidays/Spring_Holidays/First_Fruits/Techiyat_ha-Mashiach/techiyat_ha-mashiach.html

4.25.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

לְהַגִּיד בַּבֹּקֶר חַסְדֶּךָ וֶאֱמוּנָתְךָ בַּלֵּילוֹת׃

To proclaim Your steadfast love at daybreak, Your faithfulness each night

Psalms 92:3

This verse speaks of proclaiming God’s steadfast love in the morning and His faithfulness at night. Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz explains that “daybreak” symbolizes times of clarity and blessing, while “night” represents the difficult and dark times in our lives when God’s presence seems obscured. It is during these metaphorical ‘nights’ that faith becomes crucial. Our unwavering faith in God carries us through these dark times.

Where does the faith in the dark times come from?

Devorah explained that faith, emunah, shares a root with the word imun, meaning training in Hebrew. This suggests that faith is a skill that can be developed and strengthened over time. Though for some it comes more naturally than others, faith can be cultivated through practice and reflection. By actively looking for God’s presence at all times and by regularly speaking about God and his involvement in our lives, we can fortify our faith, preparing us for those times when it will be tested.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

April 26, 2024

He Doth Devise Means

“For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again; neither doth God respect any person: yet doth he devise means, that his banished be not expelled from him.” (2 Samuel 14:14)

These words of the “wise woman of Tekoah,” spoken to King David concerning Absalom, his son, were wiser than she knew, for they reflect a principle of human experience that affects us all. Human life must eventually deteriorate and die; this declension cannot be reversed any more than water poured down on the ground can be “un-poured” up into the cup again.

This principle is the famous law of entropy (“in-turning”). Physical systems wear out; biological organisms get old and die; societies and empires fall and vanish. All these phenomena are local expressions of God’s universal curse on man and all his dominion (Genesis 3:14-19). It applies to everything, without exception.

However, the very existence of the law of entropy points to a Creator because systems that are wearing out must first have been made new, and beings that die must first have been given life. The very idea of a universal naturalistic evolution of all things into more complex systems is contrary to all real scientific data and is contradicted by all human experience.

Nevertheless, the God who created all things can surely “devise means” by which the law of decay can be set aside. Solar energy and the hydrologic cycle can raise the spilled water; the sinful life can be purified by God’s grace and the blood of Christ; and the dead can be revived by the resurrection life of Christ. Someday the Curse itself will be removed when God creates new heavens and a new earth, and the whole creation “shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God” (Romans 8:21). HMM

[opalesense]

darkest fantasy

childe & f!reader (NSFW)

3.7k words • ~30 min. read

summary: one night you decide to make one of childe’s darkest fantasies into a reality, but as the night progresses, things don’t seem to go according to plan. at least... not according to your plan.

warnings: cnc, sexual assault, blood, death, knives, outdoor sex, lil comfort at the end i promise

notes: saw fatui agent childe fanart and AWOOGA... anyway i tried putting some in game screenshots in this for that extra ~immersion~ and might do that more often in some future fics if you guys want! thanks for 200 followers and i hope you enjoy!! ; ^ ;

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE BROUGHT IT UP,” Childe’s eyebrows furrowed as he rested a hand against his forehead, clearly flustered by the way he chuckled his nervousness away. “You really get me to say the stupidest things, [Y/N].”

 “It’s not stupid at all! C’mon, lighten up a bit!” you placed a hand on his arm and inched closer to his face, sensing the warmth in his cheeks. His shy eyes connected with yours when he let out a deep sigh, thanking you for the validation without him needing to say anything. It was rare to see him this nervous.

 “We’re not going to do it, babe. You asked me to tell you a secret fantasy and that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy. Just something in my imagination.”

 He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you and walking towards the bedroom door to call it a night, but you quickly gripped him by the wrist to pull him back which immediately grabbed his attention. Swiftly, you leaned in to mutter words into his ear that would echo in his head for the rest of the night until the next day.

 “Luckily for you, the thought of doing it gets me a little excited. So why don’t we try to make your fantasy into a reality?”

THE HARBOR’S NIGHT LIFE always flourished near the end of the week. Plenty of workers who had weekends off would fish by the docks, street performers and storytellers would entertain families passing by, and restaurants would be packed full with hungry customers craving for the delectable cuisine of Liyue. Teenage friends gathered in front of the theatre while the elderly seemed to congregate by the teahouse. Children ran across the pavement from time to time flying kites and playing with butterflies. Liyue was truly fascinating during the night, full of a liveliness that always put a sense of joy in each heart that walked through its streets.

 Yet when you walked through the streets, lacking a companion and cold from the slightly revealing dress you wore, there was a sickly mixture of giddy excitement and wrenching anxiety in your heart. You had loosely planned this night with Childe so you knew what to expect, but at the same time, you didn’t. You had no idea where he was, what exactly he was planning to do to you, or when it would all start in the first place since you had been wandering around the harbor for about an hour now. All he wanted you to do was “wear this dress and enjoy your evening,” as he said in his own words. But he simply left you with those vague instructions as well as a bag of Mora to indulge yourself with.

 Even if he didn’t show up, the highlight of your night would be the mouthwatering dinner you had by yourself along with the sight of people offering lanterns to the sky. It was a beautiful night indeed.

 Another hour of wandering and occupying yourself with activities passed and you were feeling restless. The thought of Childe made you squirm in your seat, excitement flooding your nerves as you craved to see him now more than ever.

 If Childe’s following me, I should go somewhere less crowded, you thought.

 Assuming he was watching you at this very moment, you decided to make things easier for him, leaving the storyteller’s pavilion and walking across the bridge heading towards Mt. Tianheng. Mindlessly wandering and following the dirt path, you began to veer left towards the Golden House, but the distant sight of the Millelith immediately turned you back around.

 Not there.

ON YOUR WAY BACK to the main path, you noticed a smaller, less travelled road wedged between two large rocks, the dimly lit lantern sitting up ahead enticing you to follow where it leads. You found yourself curiously walking up the hill, taking in the starry night sky and whistling trees until you turned the final corner to see a group of miners idly standing around, bantering with one nearby Millelith guard.

 They noticed your sudden presence and waved hello, to which you waved hello back. One of the miners, who leaned against a cart full of iron, was the first to fully acknowledge you. “Hey, are you lost, miss?”

 “Oh, no, not at all. I was just curiously wandering around, taking in the sights and all,” you grinned politely, glancing up at the calm night sky. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it boys?”

 “Taking in the sights, are you?” another miner slowly approached you, a few more starting to pay attention to you. “You know, you’re certainly a sight to take in too with that pretty little dress of yours.”

 You had completely forgotten that you looked very out of place with what you were wearing – a short traditional-like dress with a small hole exposing a small area of your chest. Your eyes quickly widened as you processed what the miner said, but before you fully realized it and came back to your senses, the men had circled around you and were getting dangerously close. You instinctively reached down to grab the blade that was usually tucked and sheathed in your belt but after grabbing nothing with the realization that of course, you were wearing a dress, genuine panic began to seep in.

 “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out late at night looking like that anyway? You’re practically begging to be touched,” a man’s voice behind you teased, grabbing your hips as he emphasized that last word. You swiftly elbowed him in the ribs to defend yourself and temporarily push him away, but the other men were quick to react as a pair of hands grabbed your arms and pinned you into place.

 You snapped your head towards the Millelith guard, expecting him to do something to help you as a protector of the harbor. But he simply stood there at his post, glancing away as soon as you met his eyes. And if Childe were watching, you were sure he would have stepped in by now. He was often the jealous type anyway. But while the men slowly pulled you under a nearby deteriorated pergola despite your thrashing then greedily groped your body, help was nowhere to be seen.

 All hope you had for a fun night was gone. Tears swelled in your eyes as you attempted to kick away the hungry hands but it was no use. Please, you silently prayed, someone help me!

 As if someone had heard your prayers, the sound of a projectile zipping past your head followed by your arms being freed from the man who was restricting you was the sound of freedom. The others looked up in horror and paused their advances as their friend dropped injured behind you. Suddenly, a dark figure leaped from the hill above and landed on the ground confidently, quickly pulling out two blades then lunging forward to the miners, catching them by surprise. You took this temporary moment of freedom to kick the hands off of you and scramble away, running back towards the path. You could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the ground behind you coupled with loud groans of agony, and you can only imagine what your unknown savior looked like but all you could focus on was getting away as soon as possible with the limited mental strength you had.

 But much to your dismay, one of the miners still managed to grab you tightly and drag you back, and every time you wiggled away, they had a strong grip on you. Sobs of desperation escaped your throat, “Let me go! Let me go, please! Help!”

 “Leaving so soon?” a different voice growled in your ear as the man’s grip around your waist tightened. It was deep, distorted, and certainly anxiety inducing. You looked down in a flurry of panic to see black and red sleeves wrapped around your figure. This was not one of the miners.

 The man lifted you up a few inches from the ground to turn you around. You were faced with bodies littering the floor. It had only been less than ten seconds and the entire scene was drenched in blood. The sight of the freshly killed miners as well as the one guard made you tremble in fear rather than feel grateful for being saved just now.

 “I think I deserve a reward for protecting you from those filthy bastards, wouldn’t you agree?” the man inched you closer to the bodies but you closed your eyes as soon as you could recognize the open wounds from his blades. “At least a thank you would be nice.”

 “Get away from me!” you yelled and thrashed in his arms again but quickly stopped once you heard the sound of his blade being unsheathed. You opened your eyes to see a bloodied dead man at your feet as well as a knife at your throat, pressing gently at your fragile skin.

 “You’re a tough one, aren’t you? I wouldn’t be so resistant if I were you,” the man’s gravelly voice was definitely unfamiliar but his tone and inflection reminded you of...

 “Childe....” you weakly muttered under your breath, which made the man laugh in response.

 “Childe, you say? You have something to do with the boss?” he pressed his hips harder against yours, his erection subtly throbbing underneath his clothes.

 “So you’re Fatui, aren’t you?” you mustered enough courage to make your voice sound threatening enough. You let out a sarcastic laugh despite your low confidence. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. Once Childe finds out about this, your life will be over within seconds.”

 “Who are you to say something like that?” he slowly began walking the two of you over to the nearest wall, a large rock that cast an equally large shadow from the moonlight. “I’m surprised a dumb little slut like you would even know his name.”

 Your eyes squinted at the insult. “You don’t need to know who I am. All you have to know is you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning.”

 “We’ll see about that,” he suddenly used his free arm to turn you around so your back slammed against the cold rock. You finally looked up at your captor to confirm your suspicions of this predatory savior. He was certainly part of the Fatui, his red and black mask concealing his identity with yellow glowing eyes staring directly at you. His arm positioned itself directly next to your head so he could hold his blade against your neck again, threatening any potential thoughts of escaping. His other hand suddenly grabbed the open space in your dress and pulled down, ripping the fabric in half and exposing your half naked form, eliciting a loud gasp from you. Panic began to seep in. How could I walk back home practically naked? Would I even end up alive to come back home?

 Before you could use your arms to cover yourself up in an attempt at modesty, he pressed the blade to your neck that even the slightest movement would ensure spilled blood. “Don’t even think about it.”

 He looked up and down at your body, humming with satisfaction as he began to unzip his pants and free his cock. You couldn’t exactly take a good look at it with the knife restricting your range of motion, but even then, you weren’t sure you wanted to look. His free hand gripped your bare waist. “And to think that those other filthy men were about to get their hands on this... You really should thank me.”

 Another gasp escaped your throat as he slowly dug his hand under the strap of your underwear. His leather gloves snaked their way further down, inching closer and closer to your core. You could feel his grip on his blade tighten with his tensed muscles. “That was a command. Thank me.”

 “T-Thank you,” you whimpered as he pulled down the last bit of clothing you hid behind. He let out a satisfied groan at the sight of your aching cunt, which you hated to admit was dripping wet from thinking about Childe earlier in the night. Even now, you really hated to admit this situation was somehow turning you on, even though you were simultaneously disgusted and shaking in fear.

 “You’re practically soaking for me, aren’t you?” the man let out a slow chuckle as he dipped a gloved finger into your hole without warning. You gasped at the sudden penetration, careful not to arch your back into his touch with the knife still pressed at your throat. The man began relentlessly shifting his finger in and out of you and watched your face squirm with pleasure and denial at the same time. He maniacally chuckled at the way you were completely unsure of how to feel, and wanting to hear you moan louder instead of quietly pant and sigh, he inserted another finger and picked up the pace.

 “Your cunt is so tight, you know that?” he teased, “If you’re moaning like this now I can only imagine how my cock will make you feel.”

 “N-No, please,” you moaned out helplessly, “Please don’t...”

 He pulled his fingers away and quickly shoved them into your mouth while it was still open, freeing your throat from his knife and slowly trailing it down your body while he made you suck on his gloved fingers, wet from your own fluids. The cold metal found itself settling right above your hips and with no hesitation he began leaving flesh wounds, the leftover blood from the men easily being mistaken as yours at first glance.

 “I’m going to put away the knife, but you’ll be a good girl for me and stay still, won’t you? You saw what I did to those men. It would be a shame if you met the same fate just because you wanted to escape,” he sheathed the blade and pulled his fingers out of your mouth to grab your waist, forcing you to turn around. He bent down slightly to get a hold of your thighs, and in one swift move, folded your body into the likings of a full nelson, your legs hanging onto his elbows with his chest pressed against your tense back. As he reached his hands to clasp behind your neck and push your body into the intense position, the connection between this man and Childe made your eyes light up.

 This was one of his favorite positions. No way it was just coincidence.

 “So it is you, Childe,” you happily grinned as he turned the both of you to face the bloodied mess from before so he could lean against the wall. His touches seemed to get more familiar as the realization sunk in, but at the same time, you wondered if your mind was just playing tricks on you to make the best out of the current situation. You sat on the fence of either blindly believing this mysterious man was Childe or giving into the reality that this really was a stranger.

 “You’re delusional, slut. Childe has nothing to do with this, I don’t know why you keep mentioning his name,” he hissed in your ear, getting more and more irritated.

 You finally glanced down for the first time since nothing could restrict your neck anymore. To your delight, you smiled at his throbbing cock twitching as it waited at your entrance, aching to stir your insides. You giggled sweetly, finally relaxing with a deep sigh. You now knew with certainty that you were safe. Everything was under control. His control.

 “Childe, I recognize every inch of your cock like it’s second nature,” you stared at his familiar length then reached out to wrap your fingers around the tip, the muscle twitching in response. “You’ve never been this hard before... You must be so excited right now.”

 “One more word out of you about Childe and I will kill you right here. Do not test me.”

 “You wouldn’t, right? You love me too much,” you boldly declared, teasing him for staying in character. When he didn’t answer and instead shifted his cock to push his tip inside you, you let out a sharp exhale. He went in too fast, too rough. Even if you were dripping wet, the way he shoved himself inside you was merciless and tore you apart immediately.

 You tried to find the pleasure in it but as soon as he started thrusting not even a few seconds later, you worriedly whispered, “S-Slow down... Please! It hurts, Ajax-“

 “You’re going to take all of it in. Maybe that’ll teach you not to be an annoying, disobedient brat from now on,” he interrupted.

 Destroying you was an understatement of what he was truly doing to your body. He would repeatedly pull his length out before shoving it back in, rolling his hips so naturally with each thrust having clear intention to break you apart. Your cunt visibly throbbed, the excruciating pain slowly turning into ethereal pleasure from the attention it was getting from his thick shaft. He closely listened to the way your cries turns into gleeful moans, excitedly fucking you as his mind further indulged in the fantasy. After all, this entire night had been exceedingly frustrating and enticing to him and to take out all his pent up energy on you was the only thing on his lust filled mind.

 Soon enough, his thrusts began to roll in harder as he held onto you tightly, his moans becoming more intense as the only thing on his mind was how good he was feeling, fucking you in front of the kills he certainly prided himself on. Similarly, you felt your insides burn at the feeling of being manhandled and treated like a toy, or the way he began moaning your name in a low whisper as you felt his cock twitching inside you, aching for release – the first time he had ever acknowledged your name tonight.

 “[Y/N], baby – fuck!” his distorted voice cried out, “I’m... I’m gonna...!”

  “Me too...!” you felt your legs shake violently as you neared your climax, “A-Ajax!”

 He let out one final thrust, burying himself inside of you until his length plugged up your sore hole and dumped his seed deep inside you. His load came in pulses, slowly coating your insides with moans of ecstasy ringing in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your cunt quivered as you reached your release as well, your fluids swirling with his to make one happy mix of satisfaction.

 The both of you stayed in this position, panting and trying to calm down from your highs. Childe let go of his hands behind your neck and positioned them to hold your knees without pulling out of you, allowing you to freely move your head again. Though, you didn’t want to take your eyes off of his cock buried inside of you, opting to keep your head hanging down to actively avoid looking at the bodies in front of you. Childe must have noticed this, and of course, he had to say something about it.

 “Sorry about... them. I hate... really hate when people try to mess with what’s mine,” he took a deep sigh as he slowly pulled out of you, watching his cum ooze out from your cunt to drip down to the space between his shoes. The sight could have been enough for him to push for another round, but he figured now wasn’t the time. He had the urge to explain himself.

 “I was just so mad and... though I have to admit, seeing their blood on my blade got me so excited... wait, I think I might’ve gotten a little too excited,” something seemed to have clicked in his mind when he said that, “Baby, I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have done this, I did so many things to you, I’m so sorr-“

 “It’s okay, Childe,” you slowly turned your head to his so your faces were only an inch apart, his mask being the sole barrier that stopped you from kissing him to shut him up. “I had so much fun. Did you?”

 “Of course I did,” he slowly placed you down to stand on your feet again, which was admittedly tough since he had fucked the life out of you. He briefly held your waist to stabilize you as you wobbled back and forth, his cum now dripping down your thighs. He then lifted his hood up to reveal his fluffy red hair and took off his mask, throwing it to the ground to meet you with teary eyes.  His voice was no longer distorted by that cursed mask, and a look of genuine concern sat in his deep eyes.  “I-I’m so sorry for scaring you, [Y/N]. I could see it in your eyes the entire time and I hate to admit that it turned me on and now I feel so bad–“

  You swiftly pressed your lips to his, finally shutting him up from his rambling. He responded by eagerly returning the kiss, cupping your face in his hands and closing his eyes. For a moment, his troubles melted away once he realized you weren’t upset with him, and millions of thoughts about how much he loved you raced through his mind. But It wasn’t long before he broke the exchange, taking off his hooded garments to drape it over your cold, naked body. It was apparent he put thought into this moment, already wearing his normal clothes underneath the Fatui uniform as if he had planned to cover you up from the start. He made sure to pin it closed and fasten it tightly, ensuring that every exposed part of you was warm and covered. Once he was done, he pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly as he stared at the bodies behind you, sighing contently.

 “I love you, [Y/N]. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and letting me have tonight. We really don’t have to do this ever again if you don’t want to.”

 “I love you too,” you smiled sweetly. “Just... next time, please don’t keep me waiting so long. The uncertainty was thrilling but I was sure I was going to die back there.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind next time. I just got caught up with the Millelith because I’m dressed like an agent, then I lost sight of you and... wait,” he pressed his forehead against yours and gently, yet eagerly whispered with a grin, “so there’s really going to be a next time?”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,952 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison (Season 3) Warnings: language, that's it! A/N: Kintsugi, aka "golden joinery" is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious materials like gold and it is strikingly beautiful. I think you'll understand why I titled the fic this at the end! Summary: After Daryl leaves with Merle, he return to the prison to find that Y/N is extremely angry with him...

Your name: submit What is this?

Your face went through a rapid series of emotions as soon as his familiar broad shoulders came into view. First was shock and surprise, and then relief to see him again and to see him in one piece, and then just... anger. Daryl shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the next, watching over everyone crowded around him as you simply stood up and turned your back on the room and left. You walked straight out and into the row of cells, disappearing through the heavy metal door. Daryl caught Rick’s eyes and the sheriff simply tilted his head and gave Daryl a knowing look. Daryl’s attention was pulled away as Carol grabbed him into a tight hug.

He was surprised when you didn’t come back out to join in the discussion of what the hell to do next about Woodbury and the Governor. He worked up the courage to try to talk to you, knowing full well it may just be an exercise in futility.

You easily heard the familiar cadence of his steps approaching your cell and the doorway darkened as his frame stopped in the space. He gripped the edge of the cell door and anxiously chewed his bottom lip.

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, determinedly not looking at him. “Go away, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.

He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. “Just—would ya just talk to me?” he ventured. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched. “What is there to talk about?” “I—’M back now. I came back,” he said. He felt sick. He wasn’t used to you being angry with him and it was completely twisting him into knots.  “Yep,” you said, standing and going to the doorway. You pulled the hanging sheet in the doorway, a makeshift door, closed right in his face. “Leave me alone,” your voice came out from the cell and then he heard the springs of your bunk creak as you sank back down on it.  He stepped back from the fabric and dropped his hand from its grip on the doorframe, heaving a heavy sigh. Carol stepped out of her cell, just a few doors down and looked at Daryl staring at the closed sheet in front of him. He turned at the sound of her soft footsteps.  Carol’s brow was furrowed low over her eyes and she tilted her head in the direction of the staircase that climbed to the second level. Daryl’s hand clenched and unclenched in a fist and he gave your cell one last parting look before turning away to follow Carol up the stairs. She peeked at Judith in her makeshift bed and smiled. Daryl stopped beside her and looked down at the little sleeping bundle. His heart warmed at the sight of her, but his expression was still dark. Carol glanced over at him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously again. “She won’t even talk to me,” he drawled. “Give her a little time,” Carol said gently. “She’ll come around.” Carol sounded very sure of her assertion, but all Daryl could think was that he’d ruined things for good. “I came back,” he said, leaning back against the railing. His heart was aching with regret. Going off with Merle was stupid in the first place. Almost as soon as he’d done it he knew it was a mistake.  “You being back doesn’t change the fact that you left in the first place,” Carol pointed out. “You really think she doesn’t have a right to be upset? Think about how she’s interpreting you leaving.” He gave her a questioning look. Carol straightened up and stared at him. “I understand why you did what you did. He’s your brother. He’s blood. But you leaving with him... to her it means she wasn’t worth staying for. You chose Merle, a racist asshole, over all of us, and right when we’re sitting on the edge of war against the psychopath Merle worked for. I know that isn’t really what happened. It’s not that simple, but that’s what it feels like. She thinks you leaving means that... whatever there is between the two of you wasn’t worth anything. It wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He gulped and shifted uncomfortably. “But that ain’t true...” Carol shrugged. “That’s how it seems to her.” 

Daryl ran a hand over his face and sighed again. “I really fucked up,” he growled. The grit and gravel in his voice was heavier than usual. “You did what you thought you needed to do,” Carol said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Just give her a little time. She’ll cool off.” But the rest of the day, you stayed in your cell with the doorway covered. Daryl hung around hoping you’d step out so he could try to talk to you again, try to apologize and explain. He was sick with regret and guilt and worry, but you never stepped out. “Who’s on watch tonight?” Daryl asked Rick. He was thinking about offering to stay up and take both shifts because there was no way he would be sleeping that night anyway. He was too anxious. “Y/N first and then Glenn is taking the second shift. He gave Daryl a knowing look. The archer looked miserable. Rick sighed. “I’m just glad you’re back,” Rick said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in nod. “Yeah... thanks...” You’d be on guard first. You wouldn’t be able to hide in your cell forever. You could, however, still tell him to fuck off, but he had to try. Just waiting around was agonizing and he kept thinking about how in this world even the next minute wasn’t a guarantee. He had to make things right as soon as he could.

Night fell and after scraping together his courage, Daryl got up, knowing you’d be in the guard tower by now. He went to the little stove and heated up some water, pouring it over a tea bag in a mug and staring down at it. Yeah, bring her tea, dumbass. That’ll fix it. But regardless of that derisive voice in his head, he grabbed the mug and headed out to climb the narrow stairs of the guard tower, curls of steam wafting off the surface of the amber liquid. You turned when you heard the metal door from the stairwell creak open, thinking maybe Glenn couldn’t sleep and was coming to keep you company early. Instead you saw the broad shoulders of the archer coming through and you turned away and fixed your eyes on the darkness blanketing the prison yard. “What?” you asked sharply. Daryl gulped. Obviously you hadn’t cooled off enough yet. “I just—uhh.” He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. “I brought ya some tea,” he drawled.  You kept your back to him and said nothing. He edged closer and set the tea in front of you on the table. It was then that he noticed the bandage on your upper arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because you’d been wearing a jacket. Without thinking, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm. “What happened?” 

You glanced at his hand on your arm and then up to his blue eyes. You felt your resolve crumbling as soon as your eyes met his. It was like some involuntary reaction you had no control over, but you tugged your arm from his grasp and shifted away from him, averting your eyes back toward the outside again. “I got shot,” you said. “What?” he urged. “The hell ya mean ya got shot?”

His voice was tinged with deep concern. “By one of those Woodbury assholes. You know, when you were off running around with Merle,” you replied. Daryl’s stomach twisted. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d been at the prison where he was supposed to be he could have protected you. What if it hadn’t just been your arm? He hadn’t even said goodbye to you... he’d just left. The hell was he thinking? You must have sensed his sudden panic because you looked over at him again and studied his face. “It’s just a bullet graze, Daryl.” Your tone was flat this time, but it was an improvement over the previous anger. “I’d rather be alone,” you said quietly. You hesitated. “Thanks for the tea.”

He gulped again. This distant tone you had was eating him alive and he felt his blood pressure rising. “Would ya just look at me at least? Gimme a chance to explain!”

You were a bit taken aback by his tone, which was now a little angry too, and you did turn to stare at him, your brow furrowed heavily now. “Explain?” You scoffed. “What the hell is there to explain? You made your choice. Your priorities are pretty damn clear. So, just—just leave me alone...”

“Nah,” he growled. “Not ‘til ya listen to me.”

You glared at him and he watched the muscle in your jaw tense as you clenched your teeth. “Actions speak louder than words, Daryl.”

“I fucked up, alright? I ain’t denyin’ that! I wanted to come back as soon as I left!” he roared. “‘M sorry!” “Sorry?” You stared at him, bewildered. “You’re sorry,” you repeated. “Yeah, well, so am I. Sorry I was stupid enough to think that maybe—” You broke off and shut your eyes, breathing in a tense breath. “That maybe what?” Daryl pressed you.

“That maybe I actually fucking meant something to you!” you yelled. There were angry tears in your eyes now and you fought to blink them away. “But if you could just leave then clearly I’ve deluded myself, because I could never do that to you. So, I guess I don’t know what this—” you gestured to yourself and then to him, “—is. Was. Whatever... apparently it’s nothing.” The archer stared at you feeling like his heart had split open. “That ain’t—that ain’t true. And it wasn’t that simple. S’not that simple.” He took a hesitant step toward you. 

Your jaw was still set. “Forget it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s not like we were.... together. I was stupid to read into anything. I’m—I’m done. I’ll just send Glenn up later,” you murmured, trying to storm out of the guard tower, ready to race down the stairs and leave the whole mess behind you. But Daryl’s hand gently caught you as you tried to move past him, landing lightly but firmly on your arm.

“Nah. Don’t do that! Don’t just—just dismiss this!” he growled. 

You stared up at him, caught off-guard by his hand on you, by him physically stopping you from leaving. You were trying to think of something to say but your mind was suddenly blank. His hand finally dropped from your arm but instead of backing off he stepped closer to you. “This ain’t nothin’!” he argued. “And ya weren’t kiddin’ yerself. Now just stop bein’ so damn stubborn and talk to me!” You felt your resolve crumbling a little.  “I—I don’t have anything else to say!” you retorted angrily. “Now let me by!” You tried to brush past him again but he stepped right in your way. “Daryl,” you growled. “Get outta the way.” “Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Ya wanna be stubborn? Fine, but so will I.”

“Move!” you yelled at him again, feeling a flush of angry heat in your face. “No,” he said again, this time catching your eyes with his blue ones.

Your chest was heaving with angry and nervous breaths. “Let me go,” you said, and this time even you were surprised by how weak your own request sounded.

Daryl stared down at you, his posture defiant, obstinate. His heart was absolutely racing in his chest and he finally couldn’t suppress the urge any longer. He clasped your face in both hands and kissed you urgently, something he’d wanted to do for so long, but even more so since he’d tried to leave. It was all he could think about. A moment later he was sweeping you into him with a hand on your lower back.

You let out a noise of surprise and stumbled back, away from him, staring at him standing there with his chest heaving. “Wh—what the hell are you doing?”

Daryl gulped. Oh shit. Had he just fucked things up worse? He gestured vaguely with one hand. “This ain’t nothin’,” he drawled, breathless from his lips on yours. He stepped toward you cautiously again, half expecting you to move away or brush past him for the exit, but you didn’t move. He anxiously licked his lips, and you felt butterflies flit to life in your stomach. “‘M sorry,” he said again.

You stared at him, a quizzical expression on your face. You wanted his lips on yours again. “Say it again,” you said softly. You stepped closer to him. 

Daryl stared down into your eyes. The regret in his was plain. He slipped his fingers into your hair and clasped your face again. “‘M so sorry. I ain’t ever gonna leave again if I can help it.”

Your expression softened and you grabbed onto the front of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet yours, kissing him heatedly. Daryl’s hand landed on your lower back again and he pulled you against him, pressing forward so you were touching practically from knees to nose. His kiss was urgent, feverish. He pressed into you and you moved backwards blindly until you felt the table behind you. Daryl’s strong hands lifted you, setting you on the edge. You looped your arms around his neck and gently bit at his lower lip, eliciting a chesty growl from him. His hands wandered over your back and smoothed down your sides, feeling the curve of your waist and angles of your hips. They wandered down further and ran over your thighs, sending tingles of electricity up your back. You tugged him into you more tightly, feeling his hips pressing into the inside of your knees as you sat on the table. You slid a hand under his vest, around his back, and scratched your nails over the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling his strong, tense muscles beneath the material. He pulled back from you suddenly and your eyes opened, long eyelashes fluttering, disappointed and feeling the inches between your lips profoundly. “What is it?” you asked him, completely out of breath. He just stared down at you, not lifting his hands from your hips. “Nothin’. Just tryin’ to convince myself this is really happenin’,” he drawled, his eyes flitting between yours and your partially parted lips. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into your touch. “It is.”

He looked suddenly nervous again. “Listen, I still wanna tell ya... I can’t entirely explain it. I know Merle’s an asshole. Of course I know that... But he’s my brother. And it was almost like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d already left him once in Atlanta. I couldn’t do it again.” Daryl rushed on, still in vague disbelief that somehow you’d gone from yelling at him to kissing him in a span of a few minutes. “But as soon as we were alone out there... I realized he might be my brother but he ain’t really my family anymore. Maybe he never was.”

You gulped and nodded, pressing your hand flush to his chest and feeling his racing heart beneath your fingers. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” you said regretfully. “I was just—hurt.”

He nodded. “I can’t blame ya. ‘M sorry.”

You looped your arms around his neck again and he gave in to the gentle tug easily as you pulled his lips back to yours. The heat built between you again and you let out a small sigh as Daryl’s lips wandered from yours to kiss your neck and the delicate skin by your collarbone, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. You found yourself arching into him more and more and Daryl was reeling as your fingernails lightly scratched his back, even over the fabric of his shirt. But the building heat was quickly quashed by the sound of the squeaky metal hinges on the door to the stairwell and both of you startled. Daryl spun around and you jumped up from your spot on the table, accidentally knocking the mug of tea to the floor, which of course shattered and sent liquid splashing everywhere. Your entire face flushed as you saw Glenn standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face, one hand still on the doorknob. 

“Uhhhhh... sorry,” he mumbled. But his face quickly broke into a grin he tried to stifle. “I’ll just—I’m gonna go,” he said jutting a thumb back over his shoulder, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to you. Glenn turned on his heel and headed right back down the stairs and into the cellblock again. 

Rick, unable to sleep with the threat of the Governor still looming, caught sight of him returning and gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were on guard duty now?” he asked curiously. Glenn smiled and laughed a little awkwardly. “Uhh, yeah, but uhh—Y/N and Daryl have got it,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “Y/N and Daryl? Isn’t she still pissed at him?” the sheriff asked, looping one thumb into his pocket. Glenn laughed again. “I’m pretty sure they made up... Night, Rick.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Stronger Together

"Dreamer!"

Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.

"NO!"

The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.

"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."

Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.

"Why did you do that?"

Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.

"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.

Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.

"ALEX!!"

Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.

"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"

Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.

"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."

With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.

"H-hurts--"

Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"

Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"

Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.

"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."

Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.

"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."

"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.

"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."

In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.

"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"

"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"

Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.

---

Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."

Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"

"Nia--"

"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"

"Kara just called."

Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."

Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."

Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"

"They're there to take Lena into custody."

"They can't do that!"

"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"

"It's not right!"

"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."

"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.

Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."

Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.

"It's okay," Alex promises.

"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."

"Lena's going to be okay."

---

Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.

"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."

Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.

"How are you holding up?"

The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.

Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."

"It's okay to not be fine..."

"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"

Kara's features soften. "Nia..."

"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"

"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."

Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.

"Let's get to work."

----

The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.

"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."

Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.

"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"

"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."

Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.

"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"

Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."

"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."

All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."

"You shouldn't have--"

"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."

They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.

"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."

Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"

"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."

---

Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.

Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.

"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."

Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"

"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.

It feels like Maeve all over again.

But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.

"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.

"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.

Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"

She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.

"Look, I have a favor to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"

When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.

"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"

"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."

"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."

Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."

She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.

She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."

Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."

"It'll get better."

Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.

"What's all this?"

Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."

When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.

"Well, there's no time like the present."

Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.

"What'd you bring me?"

----

Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.

Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.

"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.

"We're going to be okay."

[inkandpen22]

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence 

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…”  I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.10

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

The day shift gives you ample time and opportunities to walk around the castle. Within a week, you come to know every chamber and pathway you hadn’t previously crossed, intimately.

At first, you pictured making your escape through a weak point in its fortification. The walls are ancient; You would have bet money on one of its parts having given out in the passing of centuries and gone unnoticed. Now, you know such a thing doesn’t exist. It doesn’t really surprise you that Alcina has made sure the exterior is in the same excellent condition as the interior.

But it is a problem.

The walls are too big for you to scale. If there are any stepping points, you can’t see them from within. You tried over and over to at least peak out into the back yard, but the shrieks and growls of monsters had you immediately changing course.

You don’t know what those things are and you’re not eager to find out. According to the older maids, there are more of them deep in the dungeons. It is only a rumor, of course, since nobody has ventured down there and returned to tell the tale.

Which, taking the window bars into account… leaves only one way out.

The front door.

You are aware that Lady Dimitrescu and the daughters all have a key on them. You know from Cassandra those are the only copies. Nothing enters or leaves unless one of them allows it.

There is not a snowflake’s chance in hell you’re getting Alcina’s key. She will murder you on sight. Bela won’t do anything to disappoint her mother, so that rules her out, as well. Daniela is the one most likely to misplace it or be persuaded to give it to you, but the girl is as unpredictable as she is sly and you won’t risk your wellbeing for a distant chance.

That means…

Cassandra is the only way out, isn’t she…

-

-

You lay low and await an afternoon where the cold is downright bone-piercing. As warm as the castle is, with fireplaces burning everywhere, you can still feel the stinging kiss of the outside frost every time you so much as go near a window.

And it all comes full circle right back to the start; You in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door, trembling with anxiety like the very first time. It is oddly fitting, in a way, that the story of the two of you ends where it began.

For a moment, you almost marvel at how long ago it feels, now. But there is no time nor space in your heart for sentimentality anymore. You stand at the point of no return.

And you cross it as soon as you turn the handle.

Cassandra’s bedroom is softly illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace. You walk forward cautiously, slowly, almost as if you’re expecting a landmine to go off at a single misstep. Except –well. A mine would be far more merciful. Just an explosion and then nothing. If Cassandra wakes…

You try not to think about it, lest your muscles lock in place.

Underneath the heavy covers of the bed, you see her, cocooned, pale fingers clutching tight at the blankets. It is too early for her to wake. She is deeply asleep, you tell yourself, simultaneously praying she doesn’t open her eyes.

You make it to her vanity, soundless. Her amber-jeweled choker and the necklace she and her sisters wear are neatly arranged, yet the key you’re looking for isn’t with them.

Shit. You inwardly curse, your hand shaking from the nerves. It means she’s put it in the drawer of her bedside table. It means you have to go next to her, to literally put your fingers in the sleeping wolf’s parted jaws and hope they don’t clamp down.

Easy, right?

An unsteady exhale later, you move further in and carefully kneel by the small furniture. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep—

But you make the mistake of looking to the side.

Cassandra’s expression is not relaxed in sleep like how you remember it from the time when you would wake her up. Instead, her brow is furrowed, the line of her mouth pressed thin. She’s shivering, you realize, either from the cold or a nightmare or both. Shadows dance across her beautiful face.

Your first instinct is still to reach over and soothe her. You hate it, but you’ve accepted you won’t be over whatever it is you feel for her in quite some time.

It is not your place anymore to touch her, you remind yourself. You cannot ease her through her fears now that she has become your own.

With a clenched jaw, you force your body through the motions of opening the drawer and taking the key within.

At last. Your freedom is in your grasp.

And yet.

Shouldn’t you be happier about it?

Cassandra’s voice nearly knocks the air out of your lungs when it reaches your ears, faint. “No… please…”

You forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds. When your wide eyes shift to her, though, you realize she’s merely talking in her sleep.

Leave. Leave while you can.

But your chest constricts when you hear her sob. “…don’t leave me here… please…”

And out of all the possible things she could say, she utters those words and smashes your glass heart with a sledgehammer into a trillion pieces. The shards cut into you and it hurts—

You pause at the door. The corners of your vision have started to blur.

And then the world snaps, sharply, back into focus when her tone changes;

“…Alexia…?”

Your eyes lock, hazel to amber-grey, for a split second.

You run.

-

-

You don’t think you have ever ran this fast in your entire life. But it’s different now that it is about your life.

Adrenaline rushes throughout your bloodstream. You’re not thinking, just acting. Just fleeing.

Death, in the form of a black swarm, closes in on you with every rapid heartbeat. Cassandra is faster –she can fly and you’re only human—and at this rate you won’t even escape the corridor, much less the castle.

Flies break ahead of the rest and attach themselves to you. The sting of their bite at your nape and arms nearly has you howling in agony. She meant it when she said she would kill you herself. Not that you doubted it. Not for a second.

Because if Cassandra can’t have you, she will make sure nobody will.

You didn’t want to hurt her back the first time, but the stakes are too high now. You grab the nearest solid antiquity in your panic and throw it with all your might against the nearest window.

Glass shatters and the temperature plummets with it. Over your shoulder, you hear her scream. More out of rage than pain.

The flies biting at you drop to the floor, grey and paralyzed. You hear her shout pierce through your eardrums like a gunshot as you dash towards the turn—

“You won’t ever get to that door, Alexia!”

From the corner of your eye, you notice a blur coming towards you and instinctively drop down. A heavy thump later, your frantic eyes fly to the wall to see her sickle embedded halfway through a painting. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that would have been you.

Still, she can’t cross the hallway now, so you scramble to your feet and run while she takes the long way around. Question is, will you make it to the front door before she does?

It becomes a race where the winner takes all.

You practically jump down entire sets of stairs in your struggle for survival and you have no clue how you do it. You just know you can’t slow down for even a second.

The castle feels ten times as large as it actually is. By the time you descend the last staircase and the sound of buzzing insects grows in volume, the entrance is within sight.

You reach for another decoration and smash another window. Cassandra slows down, forced to materialize out of the swarm before she can’t will her body back together at all.

You shove the key into the lock and turn it.

Cassandra fights through the rush of frozen air, taking step after weighted step towards you—

“I won’t…let you leave here…alive.” she hisses, her teeth bared at you, skin growing too pale yet eyes blazing.

“I’m done being your prisoner.” you say back, voice hoarse and raw…

And you open the door. Steps taken backwards carry you away from her faster than she can make it to you. You can see her pain and her frustration, but they cannot compare to your own.

Your wounds ache from the frost.

Cassandra seems just about ready to leap at you even if it will certainly mean something very bad for her—

Until a black blur shoves her a dozen meters back. Bela’s back stands between you and Cassandra’s cracking form. Daniela soon lands off to the side, looking between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Bela!” Cassandra snaps.

“It’s over.” Bela replies, a grave finality to her voice.

Your breaths are coming out in harsh puffs of smoke. You still have trouble believing that you did it. That they can’t follow anymore. You did it.

“Nothing’s over!” Cassandra snarls and lunges for her elder sister.

The blonde, deadly calm, grabs her by the neck in a choke-hold and drags her closer to the nearly-extinguished warmth of the fireplace. The way Cassandra thrashes in her arms is downright heartbreaking.

Daniela looks at you, almost saddened, then back at her sisters.

“Shh. Calm down, Cassandra. Let go. Mother will be here soon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Bela says. “If you’ve any parting words to say to Alexia, say them now.”

You’re shivering. The cold nips through every layer of clothes you’re wearing to bite straight at your flushed skin. But you don’t move further away. You wait. Why am I even waiting, though?

Realization slowly sinks in, you can tell from Cassandra’s expression. Beyond the wounded pride of the apex predator losing a fight to a rabbit… she understands that she will never see you again.

Bela releases her and steps away, adjacent to Daniela.

“You’ve earned your freedom, Alexia.” Bela speaks under her hood. “Nobody’s ever managed to escape, before. Respect.” In another life, maybe her and you could have been friends. Maybe.

“So you’re really… leaving?” Daniela’s lower lip is slightly jutted into a little pout. “I… who will I use to get on Cassandra’s nerves, now?”

“I’d say it’s been nice, but.” you speak up between pants, birthing forth puffs of smoke. “I was taken from my home and sent here as a slave, so.” You can’t help the bitter grimace.

Cassandra’s chest is heaving, yet she isn’t looking at you. It doesn’t look like she has anything to say to you, either. But you have words for her, because you need to get this out at last, you need to be free of this weight or you will never really have escaped this nightmare.

“Even as your captive, you know what I fucking thought? You three can be so beautiful when you toy with the idea of basic human empathy. I don’t know what you saw our time as, Cassandra, but I was genuinely attracted to you. I wanted to be together with you. At some point, I was even happy!”

You’ve inhaled so much icy air your lungs probably won’t be doing great for very much longer but God, this is so cathartic. And so enraging that she’s not meeting your eyes now, at the very end of it all.

“Look at me! I care for you, deeply, but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to live in a cage as a pretty sacrifice, with you as my jailer. I can’t. You don’t know how psychologically destructive it is. You don’t know what it feels like!” you end with a hitched shout.

You hear the ominous sound of heavy heels hurriedly descending the staircase. “By Miranda! What is going on— Cassandra?!”

All three daughters freeze up for a moment.

Then Daniela touches her head as though she’s having a migraine and Bela shuts her eyes tightly, shoulders tensed. And Cassandra… drops on her knees to the floor, gasping for oxygen, clutching at her temples.

Bela shakes her head to snap out of it. Daniela still looks dazed and afraid… but Cassandra is nearly crying—

And then, in her panic attack, she whispers; “Don’t abandon me like they did, Alexia.”

You don’t know who she means or what you’re doing, until you’ve dashed back inside and gathered her chilled form into your arms, tight. You keep her there like you wish someone had held you during your storms. It doesn’t matter that you’re so much weaker than Cassandra, when what haunts her is too powerful even for her to face.

Alcina extends her claws as she advances on you.

You could probably still get away if you make a run for it, but where will you even go, when your heart is right here with the woman in your arms? The world beyond the village died for you a long time ago. The village died in a literal sense.

You wanted to be free. But freedom and being with her aren’t mutually exclusive. Why did it take me this long to figure it out…?

Alcina is too close now. You turn to kiss Cassandra’s hair for what may be the last time. You do not let go.

Bela and Daniela step in front of you.

Alcina gives them a warning, narrowed look.

“Uh— you know what, I just stepped forward because I saw Bela move. Haha, nevermind.” The redhead retreats once more. Maybe you’d roll your eyes at her if you weren’t bracing for your execution.

“Bela… step aside.” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone leaves no room for disobedience.

The eldest daughter lowers her head and hesitantly opens the path, as well.

Alcina casts a deep shadow over you in her massive height and giant claws. You lock eyes with her briefly, with the last, flickering cinders of your courage. Then you shift your face down into Cassandra’s shoulder and prepare to be skewered through. Her fingers clutch you almost painfully close to her.

“As for you…” there’s a growl in Alcina’s voice that makes you cower in terror.

Except...

The horrible pain you expected takes a little too long to come.

“…you have backbone, little human, I will admit.” Is that… is that a smirk you hear in her tone? “And my daughters do seem to want you around…”

…What?

Cassandra slowly pulls away from you to look up at her in disbelief and you dare to open your eyes. The claws are still uncomfortably close to your face.

“I will take responsibility for the damage, mother. Just, please, let her stay with me.” Cassandra says.

“…Hm. Very well. I expect the windows repaired by dinner.” Alcina gracefully pivots and just like that, takes her leave.

You and the sisters are left there, unbreathing, unmoving, wondering what just happened.

“Too cold. See you at dinner.” Daniela is the first to speak up. She rapidly waves and disappears like she’s being hunted by an army.

Bela glances at you, then at her middle sister. “We need to talk. But later. For now, defrost.” She, too, disperses in a swarm of flies.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically vulnerable, looks into your eyes and brings a crystalline hand to your cheek. The soft way she does it, it may as well be the apology she is too proud to voice. You both lean towards each other, resting your foreheads together.

You have a lot to talk about. But there is time.

[writemekpop]

Love the Way You Lie (Part 2) | Kim Doyoung

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Reader

Summary: You find yourself back in bed with Doyoung... but can you forgive him for hitting you?

Genre: Angst, Ex boyfriend!Doyoung

Warning: Mentions of domestic violence, sexual content 

Word count: 1.8k

Gif: @thoresque​ 

Part 1 | Part 2 ​⭐️

“Y/n?” 

Doyoung’s voice pierces through the fog that clouds your mind. 

You blink twice, but this is no hallucination - it really is him. Doyoung looks thinner than you remember – his cheekbones jut out and his cheeks look gaunt. 

Your hands start to tremble, and your phone clatters onto the floor. You stand there, frozen. 

Doyoung picks up your phone from the floor. As he gives it back, the cracks in the screen perfectly match the cracks in the mug Doyoung shattered when he hit you.   

“I can’t believe you’re here, Y/n! Can I… get you a drink?” Doyoung’s voice is saturated with forced sweetness. He’s smiling, but his black eyes, which once held galaxies, are dull. 

“I don’t know…” You glance towards the exit. You could be out of here in ten seconds. 

“Please, Y/n. Just one coffee.” Doyoung’s voice cracks, and real emotion flares across his face. You don’t know what it is, maybe the years of good memories, but something makes you say yes. 

You sit across from Doyoung in a booth. You stare soullessly at the foamy spiral on your latte. 

Doyoung clears his throat. “How… have you been?” 

“I’ve been fine. Great, actually,” you lie. 

The truth is, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since that night. Tossing and turning in bed, crying. Even sleeping with other men hasn’t numbed the pain that Doyoung caused. 

Doyoung nods. His eyes are glassy, and pain is written all over his face. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost. 

“How about you?” 

Doyoung’s face screws up. “These have been the worst months of my life. I really regret what I did, Y/n. God, I am so angry with myself!” 

Doyoung slams his fist down on the table, and his mug jolts. 

The noise makes you flinch. 

Doyoung sees your wide eyes and trembling lips, and gasps. He closes his eyes and takes three deep breaths. The lines in his face smooth, and the flush on his neck slowly fades. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve been taking anger management classes, but it’s… hard.”  

Doyoung’s gaze lands on the puddle of coffee on the table. A small smile appears on his pink lips. “I spilled coffee on our first date, do you remember? I was so nervous; I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.” 

You can’t help but smile at the memory, too. You remember stilling his shaking hand and leaning in to kiss him. 

“Those were the days, right?” you say, voice distant. 

Doyoung’s face becomes serious. “Y/n…I can’t bear to lose you. You’re too important to me. Could we… catch a movie or something?” 

Truthfully, you miss him too. Doyoung was your best friend before he was ever your boyfriend. He threw you a graduation party after college, he listened to you cry when your parents divorced. 

“We could try being friends. A movie sounds… nice.” 

Doyoung’s eyes light up for the first time. He reaches his arms out to embrace you, but you step back.

“I think it’s a little too soon for that,” you say, eyes trained to the floor. 

You watch Doyoung’s white trainers shuffle back. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.” And with that, he leaves. 

---

Over the next week, you meet up with Doyoung three more times. 

Each time, you get more and more comfortable in his presence. His large hands almost stop being the ones that hit you… and go back to just being hands again.  

You can tell that Doyoung wants you back. You see the way his eyes linger on your lips and how his hand brushes yours when you’re walking.

But every time that happens, you ignore it. A part of you wants to take him back, but the other part never wants to see him again. He hit you. You’re not sure you can ever forgive him for that. 

---

It’s a Saturday evening, and you and Doyoung are on another one of your not-dates. 

Seoul was on high alert for a freak snowstorm, so you decided to meet at your apartment to be safe.

You’re sat at the kitchen island, watching Doyoung cook.

His face is splattered with flour, and his pretty pink tongue pokes out as he concentrates on the pasta.

“Dinner’s ready!” Doyoung chimes. “I put extra parmesan on yours, just how you like it.” 

You give him a small smile. “This is delicious, Doie. I’ve missed your cooking.”

Doyoung flashes you his signature gummy smile. “You never could resist a bit of cheesiness.”  

“Doyoung!” You place your hand on his chest to shove it playfully, but then, you feel the firm outline of his muscles, and his pounding heartbeat. 

You realise in one breathless moment, that you don’t want to let go. 

Before you have time to regret it, you pull Doyoung towards you. 

Then, you kiss him on the mouth. 

You begin to move your lips against his, slowly - just tasting, testing. The air gets sucked out the room, and all you can feel is him. 

Doyoung doesn’t kiss you any deeper. He’s so afraid that he’ll make the wrong move and scare you away - that this precarious moment might topple off the edge forever.  He digs his nails into his thigh. 

Your hands trace up Doyoung’s arms, brush across his neck and settle on his jaw. It’s like your fingers have their own homing mechanism for him. 

Loving Doyoung is just so easy. Except when it isn’t. 

You snap your eyes open and force yourself to pull away from Doyoung. His hair is dishevelled, and his cheeks are flushed pink. 

“I think you should leave now,” you say, trying to calm your restless heart. 

“Y/n… I-” Doyoung starts, but he sees the look on your face and stops himself. “Alright, I’ll go.” 

You peer out of the window, gasping when you see that the snow has tripled in the time you were having dinner. Harsh wind whips the snow around like white bullets. 

“Doyoung, how are you supposed to walk home in weather like this?” 

Doyoung grits his teeth and pulls his coat collar up over his cheeks. “I’ll be fine.” 

Doyoung opens the front door a crack, but the wind shoves inside, making the door slam open. 

You both exclaim, and Doyoung hauls the door shut. “Hmm… maybe walking in that weather isn’t such a good idea.” 

Doyoung stands there, staring. There’s a question on his lips, but you know he’s not going to ask. 

“Fine.” You say. “You can stay.” 

Doyoung visibly relaxes. “Thank you, Y/n.” 

You nerves are suddenly on edge. “You’ll have to stay in the spare room.”

Doyoung nods. 

---

You lie in your bed, tossing and turning. You can’t believe that Doyoung is in the next room. 

You reach your hand out and touch the mattress where he used to sleep. 

“You know what I love about your body?” Doyoung asked, trailing his long fingers down your naked waist.  

“What?” you said, shivering at his touch. 

Doyoung kissed your neck, then your collarbone, then your chest. 

“It’s just so responsive… I could do this all day.” 

You shudder at the memory. No. It doesn’t look like sleep will be greeting you tonight. 

You slip out of the bed and tip toe into the kitchen. Keeping the light off, you pour yourself a glass of milk and perch on the kitchen counter.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jolt at the sound of his voice. 

Doyoung is standing at the kitchen door. His black hair is sticking up in all different directions, and his eyes are puffy with sleep. 

“Do you… want some milk?” you ask, tentatively. 

“Please,” Doyoung says, shuffling towards you. 

You stand in a comfortable silence as you sip your drinks. This secret shared moment, with only the watery blue light from the fridge to illuminate you, is almost… intimate. 

When you both finish your drinks, Doyoung speaks up. “I guess we better get back to sleep.” 

Doyoung walks ahead of you to the corridor. “Good night, Y/n,” he says, opening the door to the spare room. 

But before he can step in, you place your hand on his shoulder. “Wait!” 

Doyoung stands frozen, eyes wide. 

“Do you…” you clear your throat. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” You know you shouldn’t, but you just can’t help yourself. 

Not trusting his voice, Doyoung nods once. 

You lead him into your bedroom, and slip under the covers. You lie there, side by side, staring up at a crack in the ceiling. 

You can feel the warmth from his body next to yours. He’s so close… if you just pushed your arm out it would touch Doyoung. 

You reach out your fingers, and gasp when they meet Doyoung’s. 

Carefully, you entwine your fingers with his. His skin is so warm, so smooth… before you know it, you shift onto your side to face him. 

Your hand moves up to his face, and you cup his cheek. You pull him towards you, and suddenly, you’re kissing again. 

Keeping your mouth attached to Doyoung’s, you roll onto your back. Doyoung follows smoothly and shifts on top of you, his hips resting against yours. He kisses you back eagerly now. 

The two of you move instinctively, one piece of clothing falling off one after another till you’re both naked - skin to skin. 

With your lips pressed against his, you spread your legs and wrap them around his waist. He fits inside you so well, like he was made for you. 

Doyoung makes love to you so gently that you could cry. His lips never leave yours – it’s almost magical…  

With a soft groan, he flops onto the bed beside you. 

The two of you lie still until your breaths quiet. 

Doyoung is the first to break the silence. “I still love you,” he whispers.

When you don’t reply, he goes on. “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to say it back. I just… wanted you to know.” 

---

You wake up to the feeling of Doyoung’s arm around your waist. 

You try to get comfortable, but his grip just feels suffocating. You remember that he’s a man - with a temper - and suddenly you’re scared. 

You shove his arm off and sit bolt upright in the bed, panting. 

Doyoung rolls onto his back. He rubs his eyes and groans softly. You watch him as he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the next. 

When he sees your expression, he sits up, face set in serious lines. 

“I can’t do this…,” you whisper. “Us, I mean.” 

Doyoung frowns. “Y/n, I-” 

Tears flood your eyes. “You… hit me, Doyoung.”

Doyoung hangs his head down in his lap. At least he has the decency not to meet your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. That’s all I can say.” His voice cracks. “Thank you for… trying to give me a second chance.”

You walk Doyoung to the front door. He pulls it open, and only a light sheet of snow dusts the pavement.

Doyoung steps outside. “I will always love you, Y/n.” 

Doyoung turns back to look at you, but you’ve already shut the door.  

---

MASTERLIST

[writingsfromhome]

Sorry x Rare

A/N: I got two lyric requests for Sorry by Beyonce and Rare by Selena Gomez. They were both sort of two sides of the same coin so I wrote them together it mostly goes from rare to sorry. Thanks for the requests, fingers crossed it lives up to what you wanted! <3

Synopsis: You and Harry have been together for a long time but he’s not the same man you fell in love with anymore.

-----

I move my dinner around on my plate, my gaze on the man pacing outside the restaurant on his phone. My man. But it didn't really feel like that these days. These days, Harry was a stranger to me--late nights, phone calls interrupting dinner, waking up to find him gone and not even sure if he'd come home at all.

I watch him remove the phone from his ear in a rush, stare at it, and then shove it aggressively in his pocket. He walks back in, cheeks pink and huffing.

"Should we ask for the bill?" He sits down in a flurry. I stare at his barely-eaten meal and my own dinner mashed to bits.

"We've barely had dinner."

"Babe, we've been here for over an hour since..." he takes his phone back out to inform me of how much time exactly but something must catch his attention because his sentence dies on his lips. I stare, he was so distant lately. "I'll drop you off at home, I've got to meet the boys they decided to talk business-"

"It's 8pm on a Thursday," I state the obvious. "Can't you catch up with them la-"

"This isn't an argument Y/N," Harry finally looks at me. He was done discussing it. He lifts his hands to the waiter and a minute later dinner's been paid for. He wasn't my baby, I think as we stroll outside to his car. I don't know who this man was.

***

I wake up the next morning with the weight of Harry on the other side of the bed. I could smell him, the booze sitting in his pores.

“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to smell that first thing in the morning. I get up and start my day before I head to work. Soon, Harry appears squinting as I stir sugar into my coffee.

“I need a coffee,” he says, his voice hoarse. It used to sound sexy but now it was just another reminder that things changed. We lived like roommates and it hurt that he never wanted to talk. Half the time, he acted like I wasn’t even there.

I watch him settle with his coffee, taking the first sip and letting out a deep breath. A memory comes to me suddenly, the first year we were dating,

“I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” it was the first night Harry had stayed the whole night and I’d made him coffee in my outdated coffee maker. It came out burnt half the time but that morning’s cup was decent. We’re swaddled in my blankets--the room I rented back then had poor circulation in the winter.

“I think you’re still slightly drunk,” I lean my shoulder against his and cup the warm drink. “I’ve definitely had better coffees.”

“Maybe coffees are just better the morning after,” he says, glancing at me and I know he can see the flush on my cheeks. He knew I was shy talking about certain things in the light of day.

“We can say that,” I mumble into the cup. “It’s just nice to have a heat source.”

“Here,” he takes the cup from me and reaches over to put both on the nightstand.

“Hey I wasn’t done with that.”

“I know but if you’re cold, I know this other heat source--it even works for hypothermia.”

His statement causes a blood rush that warms me already but I don’t say no to what he has in mind. I could make us another cup later.

Harry catches me staring when he looks over and raises an eyebrow. I snap out of my thoughts and twist my lips into a smile, looking back at my own drink bitterly. Who was this man in front of me? Out loud, I ask: “How was your night? You came in late.”

“I was out with the boys.” he says in a tone that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. “It got late.”

“A text would’ve been nice,” I say, still looking at my cup.

“S’not like you were waiting up,” he turns to walk back towards the bedroom.

“Learned not to,” I mumble but I know he’s heard me with the way he pauses. But he didn’t care enough to argue, dispute it, nothing. He leaves.

***

"Guess who just made a commission that's more than I used to earn in a year?" April walks into the small office, an infectious grin on her face.

"You sold him on it?" I put away the file I'm working on and jump up to hug my friend.

"I had to flirt a little--give him a vivid picture of what he could have there, and he signed! I'm bloody brilliant."

April was my American ex-pat who I met when she was looking for a flat a few years ago. And now here she was, working for me at the small real estate office I managed with a few other people I considered friends.

"Do you know if he was single?" I tune back in to hear Janelle asking.

"No, don't give her bad advice!" I scold Janelle. “We don’t date clients.”

"I'm miserably single," April pouts. "I'll take advice even if it’s bad."

"Bad advice is to stay with your college sweetheart to the point where you're not sure he even cares about you." I say to no one in particular. It was just us in the office today, and they knew everything about my life so I didn't care much. But the pin-drop silence that follows is different. I look up to see my friends eyeing each other. "What?"

"Nothing." They stay tight lipped but I push and they crack. "Well, so...we know things are rocky between you and Harry..."

"Things aren't rocky," I clarify. "They're just...nonexistent."

"Right," April slides closer. "Soo, we saw him at the club yesterday."

I raise my eyebrow, "He told me he was meeting up with his boys."

"Oh!" They sound surprised I know, but they look at each other again so I push them. "He was...there was a girl? Sitting on his lap for most of the night? Like, nothing happened I don't think so?" She turns to look at April at the end of each sentence.

Personally, I feel gut-punched even though I suspected this. I knew he wasn't where he said he was going to be sometimes, or with who he said he was going to be with. But he cut our own dinner short last night to be with strangers yesterday? I grip the pen in my hand.

"Y/N honestly...you know we love you and support you. But, you're a special girl and you deserve better than that sod."

"Yeah," Janelle puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're a gem Y/N. There's someone else out there who's gonna see how rare you are."

"I know," I blow my cheeks out. We'd had different conversations like this before, although never this direct. I guess we'd never had direct proof of what my husband was doing until now though.

"He's an idiot not knowing you're so rare," my friends try to comfort me. I feel my eyes well up and I swipe at them. I wasn't going to cry at work but they must sense the tears because they excuse themselves, "We're going to get you a tea, and some pastries to celebrate April's sale. April?"

I keep my face buried in my hands as they leave, take a few deep breaths. "I am rare," I say to myself but even that makes me laugh bitterly. Harry and I had been together for 5 years and here I was trying to count up all the reasons we should stay together when he didn't even care. He was out with other women, and I was waiting around for him.

"I'm rare," I say again. "I'm special, I deserve better. I...deserve better."

When will u be home tonight? I text Harry before I lose my nerve.

Busy he says. That’s it. And then, Why?

What time? I ask again.

8 or so, he responds.

Okay, we need to talk then. I put my phone away, too scared what he might text back. A tear falls from my cheek onto my keyboard, landing on the letter H. It mocks me. I wipe it off, and before I can think about what I'm doing I smash the letter down with my fist. I stand up and walk to the back of the office, a window overlooks the busy street. I'd had enough, I decide. Fuck Harry.

I’m not sure how long I stand there stewing, but my friends walking in with pastries and tea ends the emotional boiling pot from overflowing.

"Thanks," I take the cup from them.

“So we were talking and...” April looks at Janelle and she nods. “You should come out with us some time. Like...tonight. Dance with us, with other people...”

“I...I’ve got something at 8,” I come up with an excuse. As angry as I was, I wanted to have this conversation. It was long overdue.

***

I check my time again, the last text Harry sent me Ok. But it was 8:25 and Harry still wasn’t home. I’d give him five more minutes, I decide. I’d already tried to ring him with no answer.

I stare at the ring on my finger, it was supposed to symbolize a promise he made to me. What a fucking joke. I should’ve never said I do in the first place.

Was it young love, I wonder. Did we do this too fast and we were just set up to fail? But I remember the good memories, the soft and sweet times between us.

“I-I’ve never done something like this before,” I tell Harry. “I hate heights.”

“Listen,” he crowds around me, blocking my view of his friends who are walking up the narrow trail like it was any old walkway. “You go in front of me, I’ll have my hand on your back the whole time. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

I look up into those gentle eyes and swallow my fear. “Okay.”

“I promise it will be so worth it,” he gushes, his excitement uncaged now that I’d agreed. “There’s no lights there so the stars are so bloody bright--I know you’re going to love it!”

I can’t help it, my lips crack into a smile at his boyish excitement. He catches it and pauses, a breath in this whirlwind of a night. What started out as a house party turned into a walk to a local beach which turned into a hike into the woods and up a precarious--and very steep--ridge to get to an isolated lookout. Only with Harry did I find myself in these situations. And I loved it. I loved him, I realise then. My expression must change because he tugs on my hand, probably worried I’d change my answer.

“Walk ahead,” he instructs and I nearly tip toe on the ridge that’s at least 30 feet across. But his steady hand on my back pushes me gently and I walk across confidently until I look down 2/3 of the way. I freeze in place but Harry’s ready. “Y/N, you’re safe here. Look at me-look...”

I crane my neck and he grounds me, oh my god how did I just realise now how in love I was with him? He squeezes my hand, asks if I was okay. I had to be, I couldn’t stay stuck in the middle.

Inch by inch we finally make it to the other side and I jump off with a yelp which sets Harry off in a burst of laughter. Pretty soon he’s lifted me over his shoulder and carries me to the lookout on the edge. My feet had been through enough, he’d said.

And he was right--it was so worth it; the view with all the stars laid out. The buildings and their light pollution below were blocked out by the outcrops and it made the stars twinkle in all their glory. It made it the perfect place to be with the person I loved.

“Isn’t it the most incredible view?” Harry whispers in awe behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“I.....I have no words apparently,” I laugh and turn in his arms. “Thanks for pushing me, this...it was worth it.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and gazes at me in a way that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks with a smile.

“Compared to the view,” I glance behind us. “I guess I’m alright.”

“No,” he guides my face back towards his. “This view over that one, any day. M’just that lucky.”

My words die on my lips as I’m overwhelmed by this feeling between us, the one I thought would keep us together like this forever.

He raises an eyebrow when I go silent and I shrug, “I’m all out of words today.”

I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. I turn back around and we spend the moment in silence, drinking in the view. His friends chatter around us but they’re background noise. My life felt like a movie right now.

Before we leave as a group, I tug Harry back. This was a good as place as any to tell him. I press my lips to his, and it takes him a second but he’s kissing me back. Before it can get carried away I push away and tell him what I’d been thinking all night, “I love you.”

He takes a step back, and then he’s grinning and pulling me back. “I love you! I love you listen, I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks!”

“Weeks?!”

“Yeah weeks! My sister said it was too soon, I might scare you off!”

I think about a few weeks ago, I was intensely shy around him even then. Maybe she was right, but the idea that he talked about me to his sister makes me flush. I wrap my arms around his waist “I just...this moment is so perfect. I never want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.” he’d promised. “I’m yours forever Y/N.”

When 8:30 comes and goes I call April, she lets me know where they were. “We’re so happy you’re coming! Are you sure you don’t want us to meet you somewhere else?” she shouts into the phone. When I tell her I just wanted to be where they were she reminds me to text them when I was nearby.

I have to dig into the back of my closet, past the pantsuits I wore to work, the casual dresses and loungewear. I still had some of my old party clothes, just a bit tighter than they used to be. But for where I was going, it would fit in.

Before I leave, I take a pen and scrawl a note: “Great talk"

My friends spot me as I walk in. The music is instantly too loud, the lights too bright, and there are too many people. But one of my them shoves a drink in my hand and pretty soon it’s the best place on earth. It was exactly where I needed to be. I turn off my cellphone and enjoy myself.

After a certain point, I don’t even know who I’m talking to, but pressed up against a body, feeling wanted, it drives me to keep dancing all night. Eventually, I crash at April’s and don’t roll out of hers until 11 the next morning. Harry’s barely an afterthought until I’m tucked in the taxicab taking me home and turn on my phone. 8 missed calls, 2 voicemails and 13 texts.

I’m shocked at the volume, Harry hadn’t blown up my phone like this in over a year. I listen to one voicemail: “Where the hell are you? I come home an hour late and you’re bloody gone with this stupid note here. Pick up! I’ve called you a billion times.”

I stare at my phone, I hadn’t heard Harry this passionate since...well it was a long time. And all it took was going out late and not answering his calls, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It almost makes me angrier; I had to partake in this juvenile dance to get his attention, even though we’d been married nearly 2 years.

He’s on a call when I get home, talking numbers or something. I head directly to the shower, clean up, and take my sweet time. It must’ve driven him mad waiting for me because by the time I’m out he blows a gasket.

“What’s this stunt you pulled last night? Wanting to talk and leaving me a stupid sarcastic note just because I’m late? Where were you?”

“Out,” I shrug. “I didn’t know you were late. You didn’t text.”

“I didn’t tex--oh I see, now we’re being petty yeah?”

That irked me, “I’m not being petty. It’s not like I get the same courtesy when you’re out late!”

“I’m busy, I can’t always be texting you!”

Excuses, I laugh and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Busy what? Screwing other women-”

“Don’t be making shit up-”

“I’ve had people tell me that they see you with other women Harry! S’not a far stretch!”

That quiets him. Finally, he comes forward to stand inches away. “Y/N, c’mon. You and me...this is stupid. Sure I go out to party but I’m not-”

“Stop.” he was actually trying to talk his way out of this. And because I’d rather step in front of an oncoming train than cry in front of him, I head to the front door and walk out. I’d find someplace to crash today, but I wasn’t doing this.

***

“How’re you doing?” Janelle asks. I’d shown up at her doorstep and she set up her guest bed. She had plans so I spent most of my time burying myself in work, trying to get rid of all that angry energy pent up in me. Janelle had just come home.

“I’m just trying to move on. I don’t want to talk about him, I just don’t care at this point--I’m fed up!”

“As you should be,” she agrees. “Listen, I know we had a crazy night yesterday but I’m going out with some friends today and...maybe it’ll help you?”

I think about the killer headache this morning, but I also remember how good it felt to forget for a bit. I agree. Before I know it, Janelle’s found something that fits me and we’re back at a different club than the night before. Her friends are familiar faces but after a few drinks we’re all best friends. It feels great. Until I spot Harry’s face.

“That’s enough,” his face looms over mine as he pushes away the man I’m up against.

“What the fuck Harry...” I trail off as he pulls me away from the middle of the crowd. I try to pry his hand off but there’s too many people and he’s moving too quickly...and I’ve had a lot of drinks. “Let me go!” I say when we finally step away. We’re in what must be a private room. He seemed familiar with it--of course.

“So just because you heard I’m out and about some nights, you decide to come here and fuck around with random men?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him, he was out of his mind. “I’m out having fun with my friends! I’m not here because of you.”

“Really? You come to the same place I come to all the time and dance with these strangers? And you’re drunk as fuck!”

“Since when did you care?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve been doing that perfectly fine the last few months.”

“I’m your bloody husband Y/N, you can’t just-”

“Then act like one!” I shout, and in the muffled quiet of the room with the bass thumping through it rings out. “I don’t need you! And you made it clear you don’t need me. These rings are a fucking joke, here-” I take mine off and throw it at him.

“You don’t mean it-”

“I do.” I give him a level stare, suddenly clear-headed. Maybe I’d process it later, but right now I was finally seeing what he’d become. He deserved to feel how I felt, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. I flip him with both hands, “Quite frankly Harry, you can suck my d-”

“Harry!” A shrill voice rings out from the entrance that now carries the loud beats of the dance floor, swallowing my words. “Liam told me you were here!”

I glance at the brunette in the doorway and back at him. I couldn’t even muster an eye roll; I had enough.

“Y/N!” Harry calls my name as I walk out.

“No it’s me, Becky?!” she tries to correct him. I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to my friends with a drink in my hand, feeling free.

***

“Y/N, it’s Harry. I don’t know how it got this shite just please call me back. Just give me five minutes that’s all I n--message deleted”

“He’s moved on to the office phone then?” Janelle asks, her desk was beside mine so she’d heard him as I checked my messages. It was two weeks since that glorious night when I’d dumped Harry’s ass. Although a lot of my things were still at our house, I was just staying in a hotel right now while I figured things out. One thing I knew for sure though, I didn’t want to see him again.

“It’s pretty pathetic,” I say. It was also pathetic how long I’d stayed waiting around for us to be magically fixed. But that was something I was working on getting past.

“You’re glowing without him,” April says from where she’s getting her files together. “Haven’t you got that showing out east?”

“Yeah, oh god is that the time?” I rush to get my files in order. “I’ll catch up with you later-”

“We’re still getting drinks after?”

“Yes, drinks!” I call out as I leave the office and head down to the lobby. I don’t expect Harry there, and I barely have time for him as he comes up to keep my pace.

“Harry, I’ve got somewhere to be please leave me alone.”

“Y/N, wait just please listen to me.”

“No.”

“2 minutes!”

“Not even 1,” I spot my cab out front and head towards it. I’m about to get in but Harry holds the door. “Harry let go I’m going to be late.”

“Just let me talk to you, please!”

I finally look at him and he’s quite a sight. His hair is matted and without it’s usual bounce. He’s got a rough look and a 5 ‘o clock shadow.

“You had plenty of time to talk to me for months, you were too busy at the club. Sorry not sorry,” I tug at the door and he lets go, I don’t spare a backwards glance as we drive away.

One of the showings is successful, I manage to sell the family on the home and we set up a meeting to go over details at my office later in the week. I’ve got a bounce in my step as I return to the office. I tell the girls I’d meet them at the bar as I finalize my papers at the office. My bounce falters when I go head out after 5 to see Harry waiting outside the building.

“Y/N,” he calls out when he sees me. “I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

“That’s called stalking,” I say. A few people walking past us turn to glance at him and he notices. He moves to the inside lobby and asks me to follow. With a big sigh I do.

“I know what I did.” he begins.

“Congratulations,” I roll my eyes.

“No wait, I know what I did to you. And sorry can’t cover it. Just let me make it up to you, we have history and-”

“You don’t get it.” I stop his monologue from going any further. “I’m gonna be just fine. Without you. You didn’t care about our history until you couldn’t have me. I don’t know what happened to you Harry, but you’re not the man I fell in love with-”

“I know,” he says, tears of frustration coating his lashes. “I fucked up, I-I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and I just-”

“Let her slip away? Is that the best you can come up with?” I scoff. “You know what Harry? I’m done with this! Boy...bye.”

“Y/N just--” he grabs my arm before I can leave and pushes something cold into my palm. My wedding ring.

“I don’t want this,” I push it back in his hand.

“Please just take it--hold onto it,” he pushes it back into mine and closes my fingers over it. “I can’t...I can’t hold onto it just take it! You don’t even have to think about it-”

“Harry,” I soften my tone. He was desperate and even though some part of me thought it was about time he felt this type of way, my heart hurt a little. I didn’t want him to see that though so I just tuck the ring into the pocket of his button up and pat it. “Goodbye Harry.”

I walk away with my head held high even though he calls out to me. I walk the few blocks to where my friends are waiting and their warm smiles are enough to help me push the memory of Harry’s teary eyes, and the real history we did have once upon a time away. I was done with him, no longer thinking about him.

I just kept telling myself, I was rare like a gem and I had to see that. And maybe one day, someone else will too.

[dfroza]

In stating his defense

against vehement opposition

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 22nd chapter of the book of Acts:

Paul: Brothers and fathers, please let me defend myself against these charges.

When they heard him speaking Aramaic, a hush came over the crowd.

Paul: I am a Jew, born in Tarsus in Cilicia. I was raised here in Jerusalem and was tutored in the great school of Gamaliel. My education trained me in the strict interpretation of the law of our ancestors, and I grew zealous for God, just as all of you are today. I encountered a movement known as the Way, and I considered it a threat to our religion, so I persecuted it violently. I put both men and women in chains, had them imprisoned, and would have killed them— as the high priest and the entire council of elders will tell you. I received documentation from them to go to Damascus and work with the brothers there to arrest followers of the Way and bring them back to Jerusalem in chains so they could be properly punished. I was on my way to Damascus. It was about noon. Suddenly a powerful light shone around me, and I fell to the ground. A voice spoke: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?” I answered, “Who are You, Lord?” The voice replied, “I am Jesus of Nazareth, the One you persecute.”

My companions saw the light, but they didn’t hear the voice. I asked, “What do You want me to do, Lord?” The Lord replied, “Get up and go to Damascus; you will be given your instructions there.” Since the intense light had blinded me, my companions led me by the hand into Damascus. I was visited there by a devout man named Ananias, a law-keeping Jew who was well spoken of by all the Jews living in Damascus. He said, “Brother Saul, regain your sight!” I could immediately see again, beginning with Ananias standing before me. Then he said, “You have been chosen by the God of our ancestors to know His will, to see the Righteous One, and to hear the voice of God. You will tell the story of what you have seen and heard to the whole world. So now, don’t delay. Get up, be ceremonially cleansed through baptism, and have your sins washed away, as you call on His name in prayer.”

I returned to Jerusalem, and I was praying here in the temple one day. I slipped into a trance and had a vision in which Jesus said to me, “Hurry! Get out of Jerusalem fast! The people here will not receive your testimony about Me.” I replied, “But Lord, they all know that I went from synagogue to synagogue imprisoning and beating everyone who believed in You. They know what I was like and how I stood in approval of the execution of Stephen, Your witness, when he was stoned. I even held the coats of those who actually stoned him.” Jesus replied, “Go, for I am going to send you to distant lands to teach the outsiders.”

They were listening quietly up until he mentioned the outsiders.

Crowd (shouting): Away with him! Such a man can’t be allowed to remain here. Kill him! He must die!

Chaos broke out again. People were shouting, slamming their coats down on the ground, and throwing fistfuls of dust up in the air. The commandant ordered the soldiers to bring Paul to the barracks and flog him until he confessed to whatever he had done to stir up this outrage.

Back at the barracks, as they tied him up with leather thongs, Paul spoke to a nearby officer.

Paul: Is this legal—for you to flog a Roman citizen without a trial?

The officer went and spoke to the commandant.

Officer: What can you do about this? Did you know this fellow is a Roman citizen?

Commandant (rushing to Paul’s side): What’s this? Are you really a Roman citizen?

Paul: Yes.

Commandant: I paid a small fortune for my citizenship.

Paul: I was born a citizen.

Hearing this, those who were about to start the flogging pulled back, and the commandant was concerned because he had arrested and bound a citizen without cause. He still needed to conduct an investigation to uncover the Jews’ accusations against Paul. So the next day, he removed the ties on Paul and called a meeting with the chief priests and council of elders. He brought Paul in and had him stand before the group.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 22 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

These Jewish leaders are prepared to squabble with Paul about the law. But in his wisdom, Paul disarms them with his story. He is one of them; and on his journey to defend Judaism against these Christian heretics, he encountered the living God. How can anyone dispute his experience? He was trained by trustworthy Jews and lived his life according to their strict interpretation of the law. When Paul invites his audience into his experience with the supernatural, it makes debating the finer points of the law seem ridiculous. It would be like antagonizing Moses while he reiterated God’s message heard through the burning bush. But prejudice is apparently stronger than any divine message. Paul has them hanging on to every word from his mouth, until he speaks of the outsiders. The crowd immediately rises from their silence into a furious rage. The message is clear—if your revelation extends beyond our people, we will hear nothing of it. How could all of these students of the Hebrew Scriptures have been so ignorant about God’s intentions to rescue all people? The prophets declared God’s plan to offer grace to Jews and non-Jews, but no one in this crowd considered that good news.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 45th chapter of the book of Isaiah:

This is what the Eternal One says to His chosen agent, Cyrus the Persian.

Eternal One: Not by his hand alone, but with his in Mine,

nations are vanquished, their leaders conquered;

Doors and gates open without a fight

and will not close.

(to Cyrus) I will go ahead of you and smooth the way, lower the heights,

break down bronze doors, and cut through iron bars.

I will give you hidden treasures

and wealth tucked away in secret places;

I will reveal them to you.

Then you will know that I am

the Eternal, the God of Israel, who calls you by name.

For the sake of My servant Jacob, My chosen people Israel,

I have called you by name, made you who you are,

And bestowed an honorable title on you, even though you don’t know Me.

I am the Eternal One; there is no other God but Me,

and even though you don’t know Me, I am preparing you for victory.

I am doing all this so that people all around the world

may know that I alone am the Eternal, the only God.

I form light and create darkness;

I make what is good, happy, and healthy, and I create woe.

I, the Eternal One, make them one and all.

Skies above, open up and let the clouds rain down righteousness!

Let the earth below sprout triumph and justice.

For I, the Eternal, have created them.

How bad it will be for anyone who disputes with the very One who created him!

After all, a human being is nothing more than one clay pot among many.

Imagine the clay saying to the potter, “What do you think you’re doing?”

or “You don’t have the hands for this.”

It’s as idiotic as asking a mother or father,

“What are you birthing or begetting?”

So the Eternal One, who is the Holy One and Maker of Israel, says,

Eternal One: Are you really going to question Me about what will happen to My children,

or lecture Me about what I should do with the ones I made with My own hands?

It is I who made the very ground on which you stand,

I who shaped the human beings who walk around on it.

I pulled the sky and the heavens taut with My own hands,

and organized the army of stars that march across the night sky.

So it was perfectly right for me to raise up Cyrus;

I will make his road ahead straight and level,

So that he will rebuild My chosen place, My city Jerusalem,

and set My exiled people free

Without exacting a price or seeking a bribe.

So says the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies.

Eternal One: I, the Eternal One, say to you things will change; the wealthy and strong

of your world—Egyptians, Cushites, Sabeans—will come under your control.

Their goods and services, their strongest warriors, will be yours,

deferring to you, as they follow in chains, saying,

“God is with you. There is no other God but yours.”

Cyrus: You have kept yourself hidden from others,

but You are indeed God, who saved Israel in the face of great challenges.

Those who worshiped others will be humiliated.

Those who craft idols will be embarrassed by their folly.

By contrast, Israel can stand tall. The Eternal has given them

a salvation that will never die, and they will never be embarrassed or ashamed.

Indeed, He who created the universe—heavens and earth—gave it form and shape.

The Eternal alone set it all in motion;

He didn’t make it a disorganized wasteland but made it a beautiful and comfortable home.

Eternal One: I am the Eternal One, and there is no other god who exists.

I didn’t whisper in secret or mumble in the darkness;

I didn’t say to Jacob’s children:

“Look around the desert and try to find Me.”

No, I am the Eternal One. I will speak clearly what is right and true.

Come, come. Gather around, all who survived among the nations.

They have no idea what a real God is

As they coddle their wooden idols,

and pray to worthless images that cannot save them.

Go ahead, talk among yourselves. Present your case.

Now, who declared what would happen long ago?

Who predicted how these events would turn out at this time?

Was it not I, the Eternal One? There is no other God but Me.

I alone am the righteous God and Savior. There is no other.

So turn your back on those idols and your face to Me.

I will save you, wherever you are, to the ends of the earth,

For I am God. There is none other.

I make this solemn vow; I have spoken a word—

faithful and true—and it will not return; it will be done.

My words have wings; they will be accomplished;

every knee will bow down to Me.

Every tongue will swear allegiance to Me.

They will say of Me, “Only by the Eternal One shall I see things through.

Only by God shall I go with integrity and strength through life.”

Now all those who burned with anger against God

will come to Him and be shamed.

Through the Eternal, all the descendants of Israel

will be vindicated and made glorious within the world.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 45 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

God has a special mission for Cyrus, the Persian emperor: to lead the world and free His exiled people. The Scripture is clear: God, not kings, directs history. Kings—and sometimes their subjects—often need to be reminded of that. The Eternal, the one True God, stands above and behind human history, directing and orchestrating its events.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, August 10 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being honest with ourselves:

“You shall walk after the LORD your God and fear him and keep his commandments and heed his voice; you shall serve him and cleave to him” (Deut. 13:4). Here the sages note that the word “after” (i.e., acharei: אַחֲרֵי) implies a sense of distance – and that when we feel distant from God, we should begin taking steps so that we can learn to cleave to him...

Experiencing “distance” is a blessing from heaven, then, since without sensing our great need, how could we turn and seek God for healing and life? Indeed, someone who regards himself as close to God may actually be far away from him, while the one who realizes how distant he is may in truth be drawing close (see Luke 18:9-14).

We cleave to God (דְּבָקוּת) only if we first see ourselves as “acharei,” or removed, as it is written: “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted (קָרוֹב יְהוָה לְנִשְׁבְּרֵי־לֵב) and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). As we learn to walk with God, we are in tension between reverence and love; we feel distant yet we are invited to draw close to God’s heart to heal our alienation (James 4:8).

Brokenness distills the intentions of the heart by helping us to be more honest with ourselves. We begin to realize that we are more vulnerable than at first we thought; that our faith is not as strong as we imagined, and that our motives are often mixed and unconscious. Illusions are stripped away; idols crumble; deeper levels of selfishness are uncovered; the gap between our words and our deeds is exposed...

It is one thing, after all, to intellectually think about faith or to idealize spirituality, but it is quite another to walk out faith in darkness. Yet it is only there, in the rawness of heart, that we discover what we really believe and how our faith makes traction with reality...

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Deut. 13:4a Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/deut13-4a-lesson.pdf

Hebrew audio:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/deut13-4a-jjp.mp3

8.9.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

As the psalmist’s words resonate across time and space, we are reassured that no matter how dark the hour, faith will guide us to the dawn. For the covenant with God, like the human spirit, remains eternal, prevailing through the tumults of time.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 10, 2023

Put Off the Old, Put On the New

“But now ye also put off all these; anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy communication out of your mouth...seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds; and have put on the new man.” (Colossians 3:8-10)

Paul sets a high standard for Christian living. And the means to live this way—“put off…put on”—may come across as too simple. This doesn’t sound like modern self-help books. He doesn’t offer 10 steps. We simply put off bad habits and put on good ones. Just like that. But how?

First, we need to know who we are. Paul reminded believers, “For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3). We believe (i.e., reckon as true) that the old self who wanted to chase its own lusts has died. When we trusted Christ, we relinquished that life of sin. Now the Lord gives us all the power to live right. “And what is the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of his mighty power, which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead” (Ephesians 1:19-20).

Once we understand our new identity, then we “put off” the vices Paul listed in our main text. Believers can do this. We show it when we answer the phone while feeling angry and then put on a kind voice. Just like that! That’s what we could have done before we let anger invade in the first place.

Paul again cites believers’ new identity, saying, “Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved…” Armed with the truth of who we are, we can put on “mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering; forbearing one another, and forgiving one another….And above all these things put on charity [love], which is the bond of perfectness” (Colossians 3:12-14). Just like that. BT

[gyuluster]

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint​ @juunnies​ @bffsoobin​ @honeyju​ pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

back to collab masterlist

back to my masterlist

“And this prayer I make,               Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.”  — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest. 

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you. 

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold. 

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages. 

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse. 

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing. 

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest. 

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness. 

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response. 

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy. 

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure. 

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved. 

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness. 

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys. 

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?” 

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives. 

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest. 

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down. 

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image. 

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom. 

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent. 

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive. 

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips. 

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself. 

“How?”

You blinked. 

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself. 

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you. 

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets. 

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.  

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness. 

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier. 

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy. 

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable. 

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him. 

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped. 

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life. 

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.” 

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.” 

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines. 

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further. 

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him. 

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud. 

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!” 

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you. 

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?” 

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.” 

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass. 

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes. 

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted. 

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion. 

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged. 

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence. 

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound. 

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation. 

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul. 

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass. 

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth. 

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you. 

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome. 

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle. 

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left. 

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland. 

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth. 

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual. 

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand. 

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting. 

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart. 

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing. 

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer. 

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.” 

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?” 

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented. 

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze. 

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off. 

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom. 

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before. 

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings. 

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being. 

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant. 

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals. 

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.” 

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves. 

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable. 

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through. 

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment. 

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling. 

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain. 

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs. 

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. 

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches. 

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice. 

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine. 

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement. 

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods. 

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained. 

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?” 

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned. 

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces. 

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose. 

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest. 

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back. 

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck. 

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes. 

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach. 

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon. 

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over. 

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different. 

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights. 

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife. 

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star. 

Perhaps you truly were dead. 

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation. 

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of. 

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you. 

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s. 

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss. 

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself. 

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice. 

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly. 

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome. 

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time. 

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up. 

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet. 

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer. 

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face. 

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence. 

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home. 

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating. 

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down.