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stabbyindie · 23 days ago

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Entry #1 Burning Bridges October 3rd 2024

You entered my life nearly seven years ago, and you’ve never left since. Your heart cradled mine, a twisted beat we drummed together. I didn’t realize how into you I was. I did years too late, when we both promised fleeting love to each other, only to turn them into torturous and prolonged goodbyes. When we finally bid farewell, you came back like a carefully lit inferno a year and four months later, burning down any semblance of normalcy I built for myself, paper walls of denial, a man, a boyfriend, shallow relationships. You left after scorching my tongue and heart again, your hands leaving trails of want on my skin, my flesh, my bones. You ingrained hope into my consciousness again, ignited that flicker of love I still held for you, sheltered and burrowed under layers of viscera, raging so bright my chest hurt with heartburn for days on end.

Did you ever realize the impact you had and still have on me? A word from you and I come crawling like a dog, a touch from you and I burrow into it like an unloved puppy, the sight of you leaving me craving for your attention like a neglected child. You go days, weeks, even months acting like i don't exist and i can’t go a single song without imagining a life with you, Sunday mornings filled with soft touches, hard kisses and sultry words, weekends filled with nicotine rushes with every shared breath, lifetimes filled with just us, us, us, us. It’s a chore, a schedule, a self imposed ritual, to check for any word from you, only to find none time and time again, to realize unprompted words from you are too much to ask when I can’t even afford to get replies from unfinished conversations, closure.

You promise so much, you lower my shackles only to pull them up so fast I’m left disjointed and pained. You tell me you’ll answer my numerous calls, whenever and however, only to never answer a single one and leave shallow explanations with no follow ups. Reminds me why we never worked out, why we can’t work out, but yet i wait for you to come back and ruin me again, ruin my next attempt at a put together life and relationship, only to leave me aching with that god awful want again and again and again until i can’t feel anymore, until the only attachment i have left is the one that connects my soul to my body. You’re ashamed of me, of my neediness, of my mistakes, you hide me from your friends, and fair enough. But you hide me from yourself too, you don't like that you can’t get enough of me either, so you run away and you drag me with you, covering me with road burns and friction rashes. You run me ragged to get better for yourself, and you have no idea you do that.

But what exactly do I do about that? I crave too much of you to act as if you never exist, especially not after you’ve ruined the one attempt I made at doing just that, proving that it's impossible. That I’m a fool stuck in the eternal loop of unrequited love, or love that just cannot be, because that’s what we have, love. Calling this a crush, something so frivolous, makes me nauseous, makes me feel so disgustingly wrong, infatuation even worse. Obsession maybe, but love moreso. My friends think I’m ridiculous, they think what’s here is unimportant, not that deep. But I can’t convey how much I rely on this terrible relationship to function as myself, that without it I cannot work, that if this gear were to stop moving, my entire autonomy would fall apart. That if I do ever burn this bridge, I will never be able to build another one ever again.

Sometimes I hope something horrible happens to you, so that at least I’d finally have a reason to grieve you, so that I’d finally be able to enter the torturous sequence of moving on, so that I won’t be burdened or left with my own disgusting thoughts all the time anymore, so that I give everyone I know a reason for my psychosis, for my desperation to angst over you. Is this really what puppy love is supposed to feel like? Is this simply the start of a lifetime of love and heartbreak? I feel like I’ve had enough of both with just this one for the entirety of my god awful lifetime. Maybe my brain grew up too fast because of this sack of horseshit we called a romance for years, maybe that’s why everything else seems like it can’t compare, because nothing was nearly as fucked as this was, as this is. Look at what you’ve done to me, a labeled cheater, an indecisive bitch. Is this what you wanted from me when you came hurdling back in again, were you seeking a fucked up form of consolation, were you trying to see how much of me you still had wrapped around your fingertips, to see how far I’d go for you so that you could go back home and use the hours of sleep I’ve lost over this for yourself, earning yourself well deserved rest? Is this how we were supposed to play out? A losing side and a winning side?

I’ve lost, undoubtedly and lawfully lost. This is rock bottom, it cannot possibly get worse than this, I physically cannot take worse than this.

#writing #personal journal #vent #relationships #toxic relationship #creative writing #anecdote #it could have worked out #writers #diary entry #long term relationship #heartache #literature #sadism?#digital diary #teenage angst #doomed relationship #bestfriend turned lover

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cosmicangel888 · 1 year ago

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Send Blessings Anyway, Then Skip Away ~ 5D

There are those moments in your life, in your enlightenment, when Source, God, Spirit, your own inner child, will meet all that has occurred, it what can only be a sick cosmic joke, on behalf of 'soul lessons' that you endure the most reckless, the most mean, the most ignorant to others hearts, life, to the innocent children they harm, the stories they will be remembered within and why they simply chose nothing but deceit and hiding to change any of it, then in the most ridiculous of actions, the very ones that brought hell to your door, dreams, and family, are the very ones rushing back to make just enough of amends that they think your abuse will have just enough wavering to allow them to enter your space and do the whole fucking sick imbalanced corrupt cycle again?

I write what I write to transmute the eons of darkness that is not necessary - the lies, the less than, all is healable -

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ALL MUST CHANGE; every social experience is the purging of human wounding - to claim it, go within, observe, choose to be grander, expanded, loving, compassionate - it is to all to play a new part and be new momentum to keep going, keep getting up, keep bringing 'anything is possible' to heal the darkness all were a apart of creating through disconnection of spirit-human at the earliest of ages to conform, and place focus, value in the outer - which in every world issue, disease, challenge - we see, know, being shown, IT IS NOT

VALUE IS ONLY WITHIN - KNOW THYSELF

To help those that are in toxic relationships or think that spell casting devious covens, that use and abuse their gifts for selfish gain; if any of my information can reach someone and bring wisdoms, empowerment, and truth of how energy is for all to discern and never ever deny the red flags, or those that simply care nothing of you - but to take and live from your place and take everyting they can - to feed the depths of emptiness within - no sense of self, no personality, or knowing of what how, who God is, what spirit is; the confusions and disconnections; then misuse, use false title, false value, false importance and then create experiments on the innocent to further take from, feel empowered by your lack ~

CORRUPTION< VIOLENCE will banish once we turn within and understanding begin taking classes and homes of light, healing, teaching of our profundity of consciousness - it is everything and yet taught, suppressed, bullied and teased and not taken seriously in every social facet.

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All Social FACETS - MUST GET USE TO INTEGRATING CONSCIOUSNESS ENREGY INTO EVERY FACET OF REALITY - WE ARE - ALL IS ENERGY - we manifest from our consciousness -

From deep sexual childhood wounding - there are many ways in which this occurs, is the primary cell of corruption in every city - the misunderstanding of our life force, the misguidance and not using energy properly, the selling, bidding, underground business of spiritual prey and spiritual hitman and spell casters - it is a real thing only because these people do not understand their own inner realm, and no understanding of energy - creation reality -

We must understand our multi-dimensional reality -

I am a creative consultant, healer, teacher, public speaker, and all is unfolding for the global acceptance of who we are truly are - and this is our promise and life's work.

JOANNA's Light ~ OFFERING for HUMANITY 5D

I am very unique to this planet - for the greater good - and will be called upon by every political office, medical office, hospital and learning center - for the re-write - all want to be a part of this divine expansion of our celestial expansiveness oneness - we area all connected to worlds and beings beyond - the mundane, the corrupt, the boring ~ harming others, taking corruption bores even those doing it - destruction takes no power - creating is where mastery resides - but you have to navigate it all then choose with divine balance;

Peter Pan Syndrome, DID, God Complex, Covert Narcism, Cult leaders prey on the weakness, vulnerable to then manipulate and anchor the falseness of 'your need for them' due to their own self rejection - closet gays, closet spiritualists, and anything closet that they will not own, claim, live in liberation of, and bring balance to - will be brought by their own soul - will be brought down.

Maybe one day - the truth will transmute what depths of harm done that simply has been not 1 ounce of justice - balance -

I have never worked with anyone - I have been solitary in my work since the beginning of over 16 years - on my ascension work, no collaborators, contributors - none have rights, none have ownership, none have been given any right, or permissions, for none are in alignment and understanding of the material - the same truth spoken - and any using, have used; are false, and are thieves.

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And if that were not enough, the time, resources, scheming on the devils time that they love to waste their money on, orgies, spying, stalking, spell work, what a divine life they simply could have had focussing self love, self design within and truly see what would unfold; if this is how much damage and destruction is done on devil time, what would occur if the healing was felt important?

Those that do all they can do to make you feel outside of what is 'cool' but now only finding out, is truly sad, truly warped, truly in need of deep reflection why any would harm, degrade, dehumanize, steal, thieve, corrupt the innocence of children that all will know the very life they will return to and have to live out to face their deeds and actions, for few at this point of the game, with 1000's of video's blog posts on healing, the damage one does in such vibration and actions, the loss of all material that was essentially their gain; ego, lust, unhealed issues, is the very thing, as we stated 100's of times, will implode; those paid to silence will speak, those slight of hand will bring truth, those stolen will return monies, repay, for none want the sickness of the soul that is 'that harming of others to avoid healing the wounds within' will bring any and all things good before and within all, to a rotted state of being; the only way to go is up;

If we are not seeing it now in our collective, our own families, friendships; THERE IS ALOT OF HEALING NEEDED to deep issues that are healable, creating underground trafficking rings, to satisfy entity attachment greed, envy, lust, and then cycling more generations of deeply wounded children - that will have very little hope for a normal healthy life - brought on by the ones that were meant to be protect them; these children did not choose of free will to be a subject, toy, tool, piece of meat for ADULTS that know better and have the resources to heal; this is simply callous and corrupt and all will be Brought to heal those that truly want to heal, to have and know they are deserving a good life;

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NONE DESERVE ABUSE. WE ARE SACRED.

LIFE IS SACRED - WHERE HAVE WE GONE ......

I BELIEVE * I KNOW OF HOPE * GOOD WILL* KINDNESS * CARE* CONNECTION

While they see healthy balanced homes filled with love, peace, harmony, healthy children, to the missed steps, falling, breaking, illness, darkness, children having nightmares that won't go away, they see the deeds sitting in their parents aura's and have to do their work to express energy for that was part of their contract yet knowing nothing and being taught nothing about such beauty and gifts, but only being used, taken from, and abused by the back-firing of energy their selfish parent/parents choose to obsess and addict to due to the pit of entities eating them alive to feed, get, take, steal, and keep selling their soul to think they are better, or in title of, but the rot, the loss, the damage, the sick scene is only the beginning;

Our communities need to be healed -

The inner child, the importance of value, safety, worthiness, understanding multi-dimensional reality creation is our pathway and one will escape seeing, acknowledging this - we are spirit in matter form; and how religion and control, fear based systems, dominance and inequality, conformity, dogmatic staunch creative suppression, will all be seen by all that CHANGE IS NECESSARY - smooth and graceful, or through the tower - what was hidden will prevail to the fore - IT MUST - WE ARE EVOLVING - ALL MUST CHANGE!

ENERGY IS ENERGY - watch it and how life unfolds the more aware, consciously aware you are - TRUTH IS thyself - seek it.

that is only where true power resides - is there power in deceit? when it all implodes, that is that destructive power - power to create or destroy - all get to choose -

They have no clue the damage to the emotional, mental, spiritual, physical challenge their children have to piece together what they selfishly broke, with intention, malice, to know that a community, family member went out of their way to harm, to steal, thieve, and bring such damage to someone that gave so unconditionally, and gave them peace when they cried, and gave the only light they ever truly knew, and the small reminders that Heaven is a beautiful place, and the kindness is the way to all that wished and prayed for;

All have to live with the choices, the choosing to not heal and face, be accountable for what is truly going on within; the choice to not be truthful or honest, and to come running back to someone you and others knew that the only wish you had for them was death, crashing, failing, falling, and then to look into the eyes of the innocent and lie to them about what a noble and upright person you are to see if the narratives will fit one more day in the other Webb of lies for selling your soul all for the love of lust, money, greed, false title, and false importance to bid the most caring energy ever to have entered a space around them -

Some simply care not about the destruction imploding around them; or the stories they will all be faced with and have to sort out - here or in spirit, soul, death; none escape their deeds, all must grow as the soul is and why one chose, and then be set on new life journeys to bring balance to what past deeds, and actions, for the growth to be in balance of took place.

The very ones that impale me for being so different and so unique, so bright and so divine will have their ways at being so, and have to live through dying 4 times, to be brought back in light-ships and by celestials that bring life through a touch; they will live through the isolation of those that called themselves more important, and more better, more rich, more valued, and to feel the things that mean the most don't, and the ones that mean the most, are the very thing that are the most harmed in selfish choices and arrogance eaten out by entities of darkness ~ the disconnect, the uncaring, the unresolved, it is a mess and all must and will face every choice to fix it; ©

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You CAN CHOOSE TO HEAL - or sit in the rubble - either way, being forced to heal, or choose it - there will be the 'facing the damage' moment - all must face their choices to hurt any life; karma is karma - energy will return

That is the journey - none will fix, pick up, clean up, nor bring peace to what each called into torment, and dust; all must face their falling, their own truth so that all will have the mastery through learning the importance of Oneness, what you do to another, is what you do to you; and how such is the only path that you will simply 'bless anyway' and move on - for it is the mastery that builds you - to truly take care, to honour all life, to respect and dive deeply into who you are and what you thought, believed, because the last thought on a death bed is never 'I hope I have my money in my coffin and that everyone saw me as important under the lies I told'

Those that have been abused; even in covert, discreet, thieved from, and know - you can, all free will to use such energy to create = alchemy is the key - make something from nothing - that is true power - that is making light from darkness, and lemonade from lemons

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You will immediately be flashed the truth; kindness, care, self honour, self importance of your expression, gifts, when you were truly sad for another, and when you did a genuine nice deed of kindness and not one of co-dependence sickness to those that are truly capable but want to live in the sick cycle of taking, siphoning, and pretending that life owes them; the darkness and depths of narcism, comes from deep inner abuse; at the earliest of ages; and it is a cycle that can and is healable - but all must choose it - and sometimes, it is simply too late - for there is no person that makes it out of a tormenting cycle of abuse, will ever for a second ever open the door to what killed them;

When the door is closed, It remains that way, for Source, Spirit will not allow those that have not done the work, not done what is spiritually right, to respect you in the vibrational manner now where you emulate and radiate, for it will throw off the entire chemistry of creation - vibration is vibration - that is why there are always laws, and councils, legions, infinite beings unseen that live to honour such laws, help uplift, and perpetuate for all creation / universes beyond what any can conjure, is reliant on balance being brought here to earth; with 1 earth angel sent as a test, an experiment to see how humanity will receive celestial, angelic beings in human form, how will humanity learn and be open to their wisdoms, and light and variance of vibration; we saw what occurred to the Christ, and how would it be if it were not only a celestial, alien, angelic, in human form, but what if that person were a divine feminine?

Every person has a shadow aspect; every person has DF/DM and none escape having to bring all aspects forth for accepting, harmonizing healing - this is the process of ascension - none escape such; try to deny and live in denial while continuing to lie, manipulate, but know with our accelerating collective awakening and light, being bathed every new day - the deceit will be seen as easily as a zebra in a china shop - light is light -

Why the past is closed, done, over; none of the past will return; All must go, go and heal. Damage must be transmuted and learned. That is years and years of inner work - none of the past will have a place in my life - forgiven, but never forgotten. All will and need to move on - move or be moved; God will do it. This earth angel will no longer be harmed and targetted.

This was a test dear ones, and all must face the facts, 'the Heavens did cry, and weap for what did truly occur'

The overkill of bullying, isolation, pushing out, only to feed a sick, and corrupt way of life, to detach loved ones that relied on that purity and light, and wisdoms, the selfishness and how years, and years of such abuse, affecting the whole that was meant to be a lesson in unity, learning, coming together, and oneness; and now is a story of 'getting the light one out of there' for the abuses and trauma were too great to come back from.

They were meant to come out of their lustful ways, that only destroy. There is never ever a winning in such energy, and with such entities.

There is never a gaining, or becoming, with such entities. There is only the imploding. That is that lesson; and it takes pure will, working with spirit to step and pull yourself out of - to rebalance - the imbalance that such imploding is, IS THE LESSONS of damages done to another, yet still not even close; for none going through what they are going through right now, do not have the gifts, skills, sensitivities that I was born with, attuned to - they are living the energy they impaled - and they must find their way out - to learn the souls lessons of infinite life, and self love - Oneness;

I will receive my blessings, I will receive my love and gifts, - none can keep me from being seen, being felt as a healer, and those that think they can control every facet of my life and the entire globe from NOT seeing knowing, feeling my light - those that play interference on every part of my life - GOD HAS YOUR NUMBER -

I will be seen

I will be loved, cared for, and honoured, and given to

I will be known

Heal the wounds within that made any ever think of the torment to block me from life itself and receiving as if I was to be a slave

NONE WRITE MY LIFE

Bless it all anyway, for all is one

The abuse and the way to heal from it, is all one to learn from it and make it easier and kinder for another - all will see, feel, know the pain they give out; some were brought as a sacrifice to what they knew at a soul level would not be fair, as Jesus did, but the story was grander, and we surrender to God in that; the story was, 'are we able to live in great diversity of beliefs, practices and claim for our planet, our souls, our children; no more wars'

The abuse of power; when those in positions, those that abuse information, people in the community, pay off to silence, use their signatures, and use those that have electronic, photoshop, re-creating policies and forms, why my story from day 1 has not changed;

I have not signed any documents, policies, nor agreed to such, nor approved such, in over 15 years or more

I have not signed any agreements, approvals of business in partnership with any - none have permission to use my name, work, content, ideas, video's in any way,

I have given no permissions in ANY WAY of my life, insurance, banking, business, creative ideas, in any way, with any person - there has never ever been even a conversation, or meeting - NONE ARE A PARTNER WITH ME & HAVE BEEN ON MY OWN FOR OVER 13 years, and been estranged for over 7 -

Any other story - is false and deceitful and thieving

I have never agreed to any such collaborations meetings, and know there are those that have in their possession my mail, my information, falsified my signatures, and made business off of my name, my energy, and have spent all monies meant for me on partying, thieving practices, falsifying their importance in the community,

Monies spent; to hush, spell cast, voodoo, continue the narratives that are entirely false and how many in the community were fooled by fools of falseness and thieves - those that care more about their bags than caring for the children they claim money for, potions and spells to confuse and bring those down that speak truth and clarity -

Source, God is and when I was told years, and years ago; 'they are stealing from you' - the rebalancing began - I will keep getting up, I will not silence until the all light will bathe such darkness that has harmed so many and yet not until now, the truth will be what brings every person to what is higher integrity -

I have not been paid 1 penny - in over 7 years of youtube; promoting, donations - besides the 4 loyal clients that offer a few times a year less than a $100 - there has been literally 0 penny offered to me, and now the lies, fraud, falsifying, copying, scams, all will be known;

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The only way through is truth; none will want to hold silence for anyone that brings such falseness to innocent people -

Corruption is like a cancer - money is the juice, and when one deed of mis-step is done, the money will pay someone enough to cover it up, silence it up, and the entire community is now pulsing with cancer; to listen, to agree, to sell out what you know is not right, the harming and false stories to bring an earth angel, of which is already bringing tears to heaven, in the way I was treated; but to continue the lies, to bring even more corruption to the door of the most healing wisdom speaker on the planet -

All had better be sure their loyalty - all will face their making - none escape it, truth is truth, Spirit, God, and knowing there are legions that will show, heal, bring light, bathe any courtroom in light for truth, and bring forth that one person that simply will not choose to sell their soul any longer - truth is the only way to clear this depth of karma -

#caglary #crime #calgarycorruption #falsespiritualists

All get to choose -

The door cannot open to any past ~ all must choose who they wish to be, and my light, my energy, will move forward touching those that choose to live in light, Love and healing that is truth; light is meant to be cherished, valued, honoured, not spat on.

The Heavens cried, let's hope it is enough of a soul rattling moment for those that live in mess of the lies they thought would keep them hidden, and they choose to be TRUTH, honesty, and step up to a grander story - all have a choice.

And so be it,

Bless them anyway, and simply just keep walking, there will be those that will love you, there will be new loves that will cherish every day with you, and cannot wait to spend precious time with you, and care for you, and give so equally - they will wish to take away every bad deed any other did in such malice and harm; there are those that want to love you so much that every tear every shed will be the seeds, the water, the ground, the soil to new worlds; ©

You are not meant to heal all, nor make a difference to all, but you are meant to ensure your safety, and that you will never be compromised for the immaturity of falseness, games, and selfish wounded vessels that choose to suck, siphon, take, scheme, scam, steal, thieve. Discern.

Release what was and move on - there will be those that will love you deeply - God will bring to you the vibration that nourishes and continues your light, your light work, and the constant evolution of creation in BALANCE

My focus is on me, my work with humanity - none will return from the past - go and heal, and make your life right and those that have been harmed by damaging unhealed choices;

NONE FROM THE PAST HAVE A CHOICE in me of me; NONE have a choice; that opportunity will never return. DF - I HAVE A CHOICE - IT WILL NEVER BE WITH ANY OF THE PAST - PERIOD!

All individual and collective lessons teach us to look, face, connect, take in, observe, reflect and choose wisely - self love being the most important key, gift, skills, we are able to learn and know that consciousness is bar none who we are - how we manifest and navigate all reality and all energy and create the systems all will benefit from - we are changing, we are bringing in greater love, light, integrity and truth - of a higher vibrational potentials - therefore, face it and / or it will face you -

truth, compassion, intelligence of emotions, navigation of energy and discern what is truth, honour, value, integrity before you - treat all before you as love, light, angelic, for all returns to you -

There is nothing greater than self love; know thyself

All are here, all are needed for a loving, safe, honouring earth - all deserve peace, health, care, kindness -

What earth are you manifesting? ache for thieving, corruption, that will be the one you experience and it done to you - not all will want that ride with you and creational laws, will shift those that choose to keep abusing and choosing not to heal - all systems, all aspects of our planet can no longer deny - consciousness is everything -

#5Dleadership

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Blessings and light

And know, when you look for good, there are those walking angels on earth, bringing higher vibrational care, kindness, knowing, making shit happen for the greater good and anchoring compassion - seek out new role models - they are there -

When you live from passion, excitement to simply be you - miracles can create genius offerings for the all - that is pure alignment

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Joanna

[email protected]

DONATIONs; PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

#ascension, #ascensionbooks #healingabuse #psychicinvestigators #psychic #God #source #understandingenergy #understanding5D #5D #creationalreality #healinghumanity #healingsystems #healingcorruption #healingtrauma #healingspellcasting #healingfromblackmagic #healingfromnarcism #healingcorruptsystems #5Dleaders #5Dwritersoflife #healers #narcism #sexualwounding #healingsexualabuse

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chazukekani · 4 years ago

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Previous // Next

Summary for Code:03 is here! I hope you guys will enjoy (spoilers, not really!)

Recap: Murase-officer was killed by Verlaine, so Chuuya and Adam were going to find out why he had become Verlaine's target.

From the blue mobile phone acquired from Murase-officer's pocket, Adam believed that the phone was not the original but got replaced by someone, and hence Adam inferred that Verlaine was the one who did this in order to wiretap his call, and Adam was able to get the recording of the final call on Murase-officer's phone.

'It's me, brother,' that's the voice of Murase-officer.

'The gravity guy is here, just like what you said. Wait! There is one more person! Who is this? What's his relationship with Chuuya! Call me when you hear this!" and that's the end of the call.

This recording took place shortly after Verlaine invaded the police station.

'That's very interesting,' Adam was sure about something, 'With reference to my record, his brother was supposed to be dead already.'

Murase-officer's brother, was dead in April 14 years ago. He died in an accident while conducting an experiment. His name was not on the official record, nor there was any photograph of his appearance, so let's call him N for now.

'Officer-san's brother, participated in the research of Arahabaki?' Chuuya said.

The creator of Arahabaki...? Adam could not handle such surprise in his mind. The trio (Chuuya, Adam and Shirase) continue to deduce the hints they have. They supposed N was probably the only survivor as all scientists were dead during one explosion of the experiment. Now they know, Verlaine's next target was N because he was the only one left who knew the secrets behind Chuuya. Henceforth, they have to find N now.

'Hey, you...' Shirase looked at Adam with a terrified face as if seeing a ghost. Adam was confused, but the next second he realised, that was Adam himself talking.

'I am the one who needs your help,' Adam's mouth moved, 'Adversely, you need my help too. I am the one whom you called N.' The man who called N hacked into Adam and delivered this message.

'I can no longer speak to you in such a way, come here, I want to meet you. I will leave the address in this machine.'

'Hey, wait. Meet us? What do you know?' said Chuuya

'Everything, Chuuya. Everything about you.' that voice spoke as if a god with a very calm voice, 'I am looking forward to meet you,' and the connection was lost.

They have arrived at their destination. It was a huge and broad place underground, as big as a tennis court, and there were firewalls built in the surrounding with guards guarding the front gate. Chuuya, Adam and Shirase were stopped by the guards and demanded to do a blood check before they could proceed for security purposes, but of course, Adam was spared from it.

After finishing the check, they finally saw N. That person that stood in front of them, was exactly the one who stood next to Chuuya in the picture that the Flags gave him.

'I am the director of the Arahabaki Project. The military named me as N because this is the initial of Nakahara.'

'I am your father.'

'What do you think ability is?' The group were in a corridor of the facility.

'We, researchers, frankly speaking, don't really know what ability is. How embarrassing,' N proceeded.

But there were few things that were confirmed. Other forms of life apart from humans, such as animals or plants, are not able to possess ability. Also, when the human dies, the ability that he has will together vanish from this world. Every ability has a maximum of output of power, and the military wanted to know so badly how we could break the limits. Yes, there is a way to break the limit, and that's called ability singularity. This is a phenomenon that occurred as a result of two or more contradicting abilities interfering with each other. Which means usually it requires at least two ability users to create such a phenomenon.

However, there is one type of ability user that is able to create an ability singularity on his own. They are able to do so because their ability itself consists of theoretical contradiction. The first person who discovered this was a German scientist, and he named this type of ability 'self-contradicting ability'. To be precise, this ability allows the user to amplify the output of their own ability. Since the user can continue amplifying the power of their own ability, it gives them an unlimited source of power, which breaks through the limit of ability. However, this user also needs to take the risk because once they are granted infinite power, the high density of the energy will create a distortion in space and collapse it into a gravity vortex, and can never go back.

There was an intense competition between Germany, France and Britain on investigating this subject. Since Japan was the ally of Germany, Japan also acquired various techniques and reports regarding this topic. Since most of the countries were running out of resources by the end of the war, they were eager to take theories into practice, and the most advanced country on this topic was France. They successfully weaponised ability singularity, and they found out that the most effective way to control it was heart, in other words, the human's soul. Yet with such huge energy, it was afraid that ordinary humans were not capable to manage it, but ironically, only humans are capable of possessing ability. Therefore, the French scientists came up with a solution, and that is to create a homunculus with a soul, and that’s how Paul Verlaine came. Years later, the Japanese government also obtained the related information and hence proceeded to conduct a similar experiment, which later what was known as the Arahabaki Project.

N wanted to show Chuuya something, but it was considered top secret. So he asked Adam and Shirase to wait while he and Chuuya would go somewhere else.

While going to another room, Chuuya told N that he recognised this place. However, N told him that it was just the No.2 Laboratory which had the same design as No.1 Laboratory, and it was destroyed during the Arahabaki Project. So what Chuuya remembered was actually the environment of the No.1 Lab. Meanwhile, Chuuya recalled some of his memories in this facility. He recalled that he had been staying in darkness for a long time. Yet, he heard 'Invaders!' 'Lock area 8 and 15!' one day. He used to be inside a cradle and locked from the outside world. But that day, someone broke the cradle and a hand touched Chuuya. That's Rimbaud's hand, and next to him was Verlaine.

'You are a miracle, Chuuya,' said N.

N showed something to Chuuya, and that's a cylinder which has a size similar to Chuuya. The container was transparent, and it had some blue and black liquid kept inside it so it was quite difficult to see through.

'Who is inside!' Chuuya yelled, but N didn't say a word.

N pressed a button via a remote in his pocket, and the liquid began to drain, and Chuuya was shocked to see what appeared in front of him.

What inside the cylinder, was Chuuya.

The Chuuya inside the container had his eyes closed, and quite thin. His leg was locked by two chains respectively that linked to the bottom of the cylinder.

'May I introduce, your original,' said N.

Chuuya's jaw dropped.

Suddenly, the teen inside the cylinder was in pain, and could not breathe. He cough badly and almost had his organs cough out.

'Hey! Are you alright!' Chuuya yelled.

'No way he would be alright,' said N, 'he had his living-saving fetal aqueous solution drained after all.

Chuuya grabbed the controller from N and pressed all the buttons on it, but nothing happened. Shortly after, that teen died, and his body including his skin, flesh melted together into a blue-black liquid.

All of a sudden, Chuuya felt dizzy and fell down.

'I designed you, so I know you the best. No matter how strong you are, you are incompatible with poison,' said N. Chuuya realised that poison was injected during the blood check. He was furious and tried to punch N. Yet, a bullet hit Chuuya's forehead, and he lost his consciousness immediately.

On the other hand, likewise, Shirase also felt dizzy. Adam noticed Chuuya might be in trouble as well. After keeping Shirase in a safe placed, he proceed to search for Chuuya.

In a room of nothing, Chuuya's upper clothing was deprived, and he was bleeding. The most serious injury he had was on his chest. His hands were locked up by chains that connected to the ceiling, and electricity went through his body via this chain. Under the order of N, Chuuya was injected with midazolam, and continued being tortured.

N revealed that Chuuya was the only experimental product in the country that consisted of a safety measure - in order to activate his full ability, a spell was needed. Once Chuuya said the spell, his personality will be erased and overridden. Such that Chuuya would be free from pain and darkness. And the spell was-

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again! I will endure my solitude, arms seemingly already useless,' N said the spells.

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again...' Chuuya repeated after N as if an automatic robot. This was the result of the midazolam.

'Very well,' N smiled

'I will...WHO ARE YOU?' Chuuya yelled.

'Raise the power,' N ordered the assistant to give Chuuya another electric shock, and Chuuya screamed.

Chuuya was not in a stable state of mind. He saw different kinds of illusion. He saw Dazai, Piano Man, Albatross, Ice Man, Lippmann and Doc, and the members of sheep. He was blamed by such an illusion, and his value of existence was denied.

The last person who showed up was Verlaine.

'I will kill this researcher,' said Verlaine in Chuuya's illusion. He gave his hand out to Chuuya and said, 'come here,'

'Why...' said Chuuya

'Didn't I tell you when we first met? I am here to save you,' Verlaine replied, 'Go, my brother. Kill N and take your soul back from this crazy world.'

Adam was dealing with the soldiers that were attacking him. At once, a teenager showed up in front of Adam, and he's Dazai.

'Nice to meet you Mr Inspector,' Dazai greeted, and he continued, ' "Why are you here?" I believe that's what you wanna ask me. I will tell you. That's a stage of the plan. "What's the plan?" you may ask, and I will tell you, everything.'

Dazai explained that the documents that he gave to Verlaine was the information about Murase-officer, N, and everything else. The purpose behind this was to save time, because Verlaine's initial first target was Mori. Hence, by manipulating the information, Dazai can squeeze out extra time and assassinate Verlaine back.

'According to the plan, Chuuya will kill N, and will not be a human anymore. However I want to see Chuuya as a human, so I am here to stop him,' said Dazai.

A fight broke out in the laboratory where Chuuya was staying, and other people were evacuated from the facility.

Chuuya had immense hatred towards N.

'W...wait! I can't help with it! It's all work! I never ever once wanted you to suffer on my own!' N cried and tried to escape from Chuuya.

'Don't listen to him Chuuya,' Verlaine showed up in the entrance.

Chuuya was holding a chain on his hand tightly, and threw it out with the speed of sound and stabbed the target: Verlaine's chest.

'W...what?'

'Didn't see that coming right, Verlaine. It's true that the researcher is harsh, but you killed Piano Man and the others after all,' Chuuya said, and the 'brothers' had a fight.

There was a mass explosion everywhere inside the room. The punches were able to create tiny suns and the gravity made the room collapse.

Amid the fight, N, who was injured nearby, yelled to Verlaine, 'If I died, you would never know your secret!'

' I am not joking, everything. Including the one you wanna know most - the Secret of the Gentle Forest,'

'How do you know this!' Verlaine shouted.

But there was no spare time for them, All of a sudden, a skeleton appeared. That's Chuuya's original, and that's what the body left after dying and melting in Chuuya's arm just now. It was connected with the tube and wearing a coat. The skeleton was under the control of N and launched attacks towards Chuuya, and he couldn't move

Shirase, who woke up and found Chuuya, surprisingly appeared and saved Chuuya by plugging out the tube from the skeleton. A while after, Adam and Dazai also found where Chuuya was. The battle was paused.

All of a sudden, the light in the room was turned off, but turned back on a few seconds afterwards. Yet, Verlaine and N were gone, and the ceilings of consecutive multiple floors above were gone as well.

Code 3 ended

#bungostraydogs #bungoustraydogs #bsd #boungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd paul verlaine #bsd adam frankenstein #bsd dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #paul verlaine #adam frankenstein #dazai osamu

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years ago

Text

A Dangerous Game

part 4

masterlist

Never in Y/N’s life had she run so far so fast. She almost thought her heart would explode but whether that was from the exertion or from the panic she didn’t know. The only thing she consciously knew was that she had to get away. She had to get away quickly.

She ducked into a coffee shop and ripped out her phone hurriedly searching for Eun-ho’s number. Each ring of the phone seemed like a knife to her heart, and she could only pray that Eun-ho would answer his phone while constantly peeking out of the window in hopes that neither RM or his men had followed her.

“Y/N?”

She nearly sagged to the floor in relief. “Oh thank God.” She sobbed.

“Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?” came the confused voice from the other end of the phone.

“He knows.” She spoke hurriedly panic coloring her tone and drawing the eyes of the patrons in the coffee shop. “I was in the market and he was there. He knows.”

“Who knows?” he asked and one could practically hear him scratching his head in confusion. “And what does he know?”

“He was in the market, and he knows I’m trying to go home. He has someone at the station. He knows everything.”

There was a pause that seemed to go one for ages before he spoke again hushed and suddenly just as worried as she was. “He has someone in the department? Our department?”

“Yes.” She hissed gazing out the window keeping a sharp eye out for RM, Jimin, or any of his lackeys that she might be able to identify, anyone even remotely suspicious really.

“Where are you?” he asked and she could hear movement on the other end of the phone. “I’ll come get you.”

“I’m at a coffee shop near the market. I… I don’t know what to do. I just ran out of there. He could still be in the market. He could be coming here. I don’t know I just… I panicked. I ran!”

“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“Hurry.” She begged. “Eun-ho!” she suddenly yelped just before he could hang up.

“Y/N?”

“Don’t tell anyone. I don’t know who he has on the inside.”

“I promise. Just stay there, and I’ll be there soon.”

She didn’t know how long it took Eun-ho to get there but it felt like hours. Each moment moved by at a snail’s pace. She sat there staring out the window with her heartbeat pounding in her ears like a drum counting off the endless seconds. Each moment that Eun-ho wasn’t there was another moment were RM or his goons could find her and take her away to whatever fate RM had cooked up for her. He was a man with a plan and somehow over the course of a few weeks and two meetings, he had decided that she was a part of his plans.

What could he want with her though? She wasn’t of any use to him. She didn’t have connections or money. She had herself and a cat back home that looked more like a loaf than a cat, and she doubted RM’s interest was in her loaf of a cat. What was his interest?

Marcus was dead, and most of his associates were in prison or dead. And Marcus wouldn’t have had enough influence to even be noticeable to a man like RM so it couldn’t have been because of him or his former partners. Jackson. She needed to call Jackson.

She dialed the number with shaking fingers and waited for him to pick up. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. She was about to give up hope when the familiar voice echoed through the speakers. “Hello?”

“Jackson!” she cried out in relief thankful that the man had answered.

“Y/N? What are you doing calling here? Are the cops over there not taking good care of you? Need me to beat someone up?” the man joked not knowing the seriousness of the situation at hand.

“Papillon.” As soon as the word was spoken there was dead silence on the other side of the phone.

“Y/N.” his tone was solemn. He knew just as well as she did what that word represented. Of all the people from her life before, Jackson was the only one she still had contact with, the only one she trusted. “Y/N, what happened? Are you safe? Can you speak freely?” It had been years since either of them had had need of this system, and they had both hoped there would never be a need for it again.

“I’ve run into a problem, and I’m coming home. If you haven’t heard from me within the next two days, something went wrong, really wrong.”

“Damn it.” He hissed. “I knew sending you over there was a bad idea. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Don’t be an idiot. It’ll take twice as long to get out of here if I wait for you to come.” She shook her head though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll be back as soon as I can get on a plane, but I needed to let you know what was going on.”

“Who is it, Y/N? Who did those bastards get you mixed up with?” he growled.

“I don’t know what his real name is, but they call him RM. And he’s…” she paused taking in a shuddering breath. “Jackson, he’s worse than Marcus ever was. The guy’s like a freaking James Bond villain.”

“Two days, Y/N. If you’re not home in two days, I’m coming to get you myself.”

“Okay.” She whispered relieved just to hear his voice, relieved that he knew.

“Two days, Y/N.” he sighed heavily, and she could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to work out a plan. “Be safe, Y/N.”

“I will.” She promised as the phone clicked signaling the end of the call.

She took another deep breath and peeking out the window again to see if Eun-ho was there yet. Having Jackson know the situation had settled her racing heart somewhat, but she wouldn’t be able to breathe gain until Eun-ho was here and she was safely on a flight out of Korea, far away from RM because whatever he wanted from her it couldn’t be good. God, how she wished she had never come here.

She could have been home. She could have flat out refused to come, and she should have. She never should have let them talk her into this. She knew it was idiotic, but then again maybe she was an idiot. She’d been an idiot all those years ago when she’d first become involved with Marcus and she was an idiot now.

“Y/N!” Eun-ho asked walking into the coffee shop looking every bit as frazzled as she felt. Granted she probably looked just as frazzled.

She rushed towards him and pulled him right back out the door. “We need to go.”

The rest of the day was a blur, a horrible blur. Every moment was spent glancing over her shoulder to ensure that she wasn’t being followed by a man she was coming to firmly believe was the devil. There were plane tickets to buy, suitcases to pack, a landlord to tell that the apartment would no longer be in use. And all of this had to be done with just the two of them because who else could they trust?

They knew that there was someone in the department who worked for RM, but was it only one? She wasn’t entirely sure that she could trust Eun-ho, but she didn’t exactly have another choice.

“Y/N? We need to go to the airport.”

They had been extremely lucky to get onto a flight out of Korea on the same day, and neither of them was willing to risk being late to the airport especially for an international flight especially when it was already so late at night.

“I know. I’m coming.” She called after him pulling her suitcase behind her as she went hurrying to the car.

Within the next few minutes they had packed up the car and were on their way to the airport.

“Deep breathes, Y/N ssi.” He smiled at her though neither of them found the gesture particularly comforting. “You’ll be on a plane and out of here in two hours.” He promised. Though she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled like a rock in her stomach.

There was a chance no matter how careful they had been that RM knew exactly where she was and what she was doing. There would always be a chance with that man. She might not have known the man well, but she knew that with such absolute certainty that it was ingrained on her soul. There would always be a part of her that even when she was safely home with her loaf of a cat and Jackson that was looking over her shoulder for RM just like she would always be looking over her shoulder for the remnants of Marcus’ old empire.

“You’ll go home, and he’ll lose interest.” That should have been reassuring. That fact should have been like a weight lifted from her shoulders, but it wasn’t all because of that dread that had made its home within her.

“What does it mean?” she suddenly asked looking over at him. “The word he called me before I ran. What does it mean?”

Even though it was dark she could still see the way he tensed his hands gripping the steering wheel like his life depended on it. “It doesn’t matter.”

Somehow she was unconvinced. “Eun-ho.”

“It doesn’t matter. Trust me.”

“You’re holding onto that steering wheel like it owes you money. I think it matters.” She glared at him though he couldn’t see it with the way his eyes were glued ahead of him in an attempt to avoid her gaze.

They sat there in a tense silence for a few minutes before he finally relented. “It like dear or sweat heart or honey. It’s a term of endearment.”

The silence returned only heavier this time. “Oh.” She murmured the word barely even a sound as it left her. He was right. She didn’t actually want to know that.

Jagiya. It was her new least favorite word. Knowing that he had called her that sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. Marcus had had pet names for her. Doll. Babe. Bitch. Slut. Marcus had called her a lot of things over their time together not all of them either good or endearing, but she had never hated a pet name more than she had hated jagiya. Or perhaps it was the fact that she hated the man who said it. As much as she had hated Marcus he had never frightened her as much RM did.

“Hey, Eun-ho. That car behind us is really close.” Her gaze was glued to the car riding their tail. “They’re getting closer.”

Everything in her was screaming that something was very very wrong. Eun-ho hummed his agreement and sped up hoping to put some space between them and the SUV behind them.

“Eun-ho.” Her voice warbled as the panic began to rise as the car sped up as well.

“I know. I see them.” He assured her while speeding up a little more.

“Eun-ho!” she shrieked as they collided with the car behind them.

The world was all spinning and screeching tires for a few horrifying seconds. There was screaming but whether it was her own or her companion’s she didn’t know. And then they were still again. She looked over at Eun-ho only to see him still bent over the steering wheel. Blood was dripping from a cut on his forehead.

The next crash was just as unexpected as the first. It was as though a bull had ran head long into the driver’s side pushing them even further off the road with a sickening crunch a spray of glass. This time she knew the scream was hers before the world was black.

There was a buzzing in her ears, high pitched and annoying. Where was it coming from? Wherever and whatever it was did not make the pain in her head any better, it even seemed to make it worse. it was a harsh throbbing pain spreading out from the crown of her head and working its way back. But it was the buzzing that bothered her most.

She tried to move a hand to her forehead but found herself whimpering in pain instead. The movement had exacerbated both the buzzing and the pain causing instant regret.

“Don’t move, jagiya.” Cooed a voice to the side of her, or at least she thought it was coming from her side.

“Eun-ho.” She groaned out searching for the other passenger, wincing as the buzzing became worse.

“Everything will be alright, jagi.” The voice cooed as she was gently shifted out of the car though the movement still elicited a pained whimper from her. “I know.” He cooed. “Hush, jagi.”

“Eun-ho.” She whimpered again as she was settled into what she assumed was a pair of arms. It was either that or she was floating. The buzzing and the pain made it hard to tell.

“I know, jagi. Everything is going to be fine now. Just sleep.”

And she did.

part 5

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #namjoon #namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon #mafia namjoon #rm #rm x reader #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #soft yandere

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danielleslegacy · 4 years ago

Text

For the Soul || Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

Request: yes / no

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Reid Request because you gained a follower with your recent story!!: Can you do one where Reid and the (non-BAU) reader have a flirtationship and he’s trying to hide being a genius/being FBI because she’s more “on track” with their age range and he doesn’t want to freak her out (idk how specific you take your requests lmao)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: it is just fluff that is all, its tooth-rotting, you’ve been warned.

Pairing: fem!Reader insert x Spencer Reid

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

“Amazing Coffee for the huge loser in the corner,” I shout out, a grin stretched across my face. The man stood, a magnetic smile on his face, and walked over to the counter.

“Is that any way to talk to a loyal customer, Y/n,” He says, taking the black coffee (with like 6 sugars) and bringing it to his lips. I lean down onto the counter in front of me, resting my chin on my hands.

I roll my eyes in response, “What are you gonna do? Report me to the manager?”

He smirks up at me, knowing good and well that I own the little coffee shop that we’re currently standing inside of. “That and all of the other patrons might take offence,” He gestures to the empty cafe.

A laugh erupts from my chest, “We’re only empty because it’s after hours, you’re the only one that drinks coffee at this time of day, Spence.”

“We get it, you’re successful,” Spencer says, a smile still playing on his lips, “And I’m not the only one that drinks coffee at night thank you.”

“Oh yeah?” I say teasingly, raising an eyebrow in question, “Tell me, who else is drinking coffee right now?”

“Well, statistically speaking,” He begins and it's almost as if he catches himself, and he stumbles for a moment, “With there being seven billion people alive right now, there is bound to be at least one other person drinking coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he says breathily, stifling his laugh, he leans down onto the counter too so that our faces are level.

I rake my bottom lip between my teeth, his eyes watch the action intently, “I’ll have to take your word for it, pretty boy,” I say, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“I like to think you’re the pretty one,” He says smoothly, “Must be why I keep coming back to this god awful coffee.”

My mouth drops open with a gasp, “How… DARE.. you, Spencer!” I shout, taking the cup of coffee out of his hands, “You’re not allowed to have my amazing coffee anymore, I will ban you.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle that makes my heart squeeze with affection and takes the coffee out of my hands again, “I was joking, it’s my favourite coffee.”

“That’s much better,” I say a grin spreading across my face, “How was work?”

“Long,” He says, taking another sip, “I’m just glad to be home. I missed my bed.”

“And me,” I finish for him, giving him a wink.

He nods his head bashfully, “Yes and you.”

“Where did you go?” I ask rounding the bench and begin packing away the rest of the furniture for the night.

“Florida,” he says, grimacing.

“Oh gross,” I say with a laugh, “What was happening there?”

“Nothing really,” He says quickly, “How’s the shop been? Uneventful without me dropping in at,” He checks his watch, “Seven-thirty?”

“Same old, same old,” I say waving my hand, “Can you throw me the spray and wipe?” And he does, “We had one guy come in on Tuesday morning completely hammered, he could barely stand, I had to ask him to leave.”

“You okay?” Spencer asks, walking over to hand me the tools and I begin to wipe down the tables.

“Yeah, but he was freaking out my employees, kept talking about the FBI and stuff,” I huff, “He must have been drinking at the Bar across from Quantico and walked down the street to try and have breakfast here. But I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him and neither did the girls that were working so I asked him to leave.”

“What was he saying?” He asks, voice completely serious.

I wave my hand, “Just saying things like the FBI, only consisted of robots and people who wanted the world to burn. You know normal conspiracy theorist stuff.” I laugh. Spencer doesn’t. In fact, I can practically feel his discomfort radiating off him. I finish the table I'm on and turn around to face him, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, he left pretty quickly, I wasn’t too worried. I think a couple of my regulars are agents so I wasn’t too worried that he would get violent,” I say, letting him know that it’s not something that was bothering me.

He nods his head and leans against the counter once more letting me finish my cleaning.

After finishing it all up, I throw the spray and wipe into the back room, and walk back out to Spencer. “What’s your plans for the night?”

“I’m about to head home,” Spencer says, finishing his coffee and handing the cup back over to me, “Why?”

“I was planning on a quiet night,” I say honestly, placing the cup into the sink for the morning crew to deal with, “But if you didn't have any plans, did you want to stay here a little longer? My apartment is upstairs.”

When I was looking at a place to start my business, I remember meeting the landlord, who loved me and offered to rent me the place above it for a decreased rate if I accompanied both places, and I was quick to jump on the offer. I knew how convenient it was to be so close to my workplace and it was in a prime part of town. And quite honestly I loved the place before I even stepped into the space. It was a fairly small apartment, pretty much entirely open plan except for the bathroom, and a small space that I had turned into my study. My bedroom, living area and kitchen were all connected, with no walls separating them. And I loved it that way.

“Yeah sure,” He says, following me around and up to my apartment.

“This is where the magic happens,” I say opening the door and gesturing for him to enter, “And by magic I mean the cooking and sleeping kind.”

Spencer lets out a hearty chuckle. He throws his eyes around my apartment, and they land on my coffee table, which is littered with books. “I didn’t know you were a reader.”

I nod my head, “I love it, it lets me relax before I sleep. What about you?”

“You could say that I enjoy it,” He says taking a seat on my sofa and pick’s up the book that was on the top of the stack, C.S Lewis’ “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. “I’ve read this one before, it is speculated that Lewis was actually experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs when he wrote the book. So it’s not really the innocent story that it seems like originally.”

“Okay, wow, how did you know that?” I ask, impressed with his knowledge of the book.

Spencer adverts his gaze, “I think I read it in a journal once.”

I take off my coat and come to sit down next to him, sitting on it sideways, so that I can face him. “So you’re a smartie,” I say giggling.

He places the book back down and turns to me, “My coworkers like to call me the resident genius,” He says, almost as if he wasn’t sure what he was saying.

“Wow, impressive,” I say smiling up at the man, “What other things do you know?”

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” He says facing me, “I know a lot about a lot of things. That’s kind of my job.”

“What?” I ask, slightly shocked, “What do you do?”

“I’m with the FBI,” Spencer says, voice laced with self-consciousness, “I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Spencer!” I say enthusiastically, “That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want to freak you out, it’s a pretty intimidating job, and I didn’t want to lose you,” He says honestly, placing a hand onto the one I have rested on the top of the sofa.

I take his hand in mine, “I am continually surprised and impressed by you mister Spencer Reid.”

“It’s actually doctor,” He smirks, his confidence building.

“Sorry, Doctor Spencer Reid,” I giggle, “so tell me, mister FBI, what’s it like?”

Spencer rolls his eyes, “It’s not as fun as you would think.”

I nod my head, listening to him tell me about his job. It’s almost like a different version of Spencer appears as he talks animatedly about each of his coworkers and what it is that he does. “And my eidetic memory helps me remember all of the things I need for cases.”

“Okay, when you said that they call you a genius you weren’t joking.”

The blush rises in his cheeks and Spencer bites his lip softly. “This isn’t freaking you out?”

“No, Spence,” I say shifting so that I’m closer to him, “Not at all, it’s incredibly attractive.”

His eyes flick down to my lips, and before either of us could make a move, his phone lets out a loud ring. To which Spencer groans and throws his head back, fishing it out of his pocket. “Sorry, it’s work,” he confesses.

“It’s fine, answer,” I say, smiling at him.

“Hello Garcia,” He begins, and I get up and walk away, to give him a little privacy.

“I’m actually with a friend,” He says, his gaze drifting to me, “Is he sure? Okay, I’ll get back to you. Bye.” He hangs up and stands, crossing the room so that he’s in front of me, “What we’re your plans for the night again?”

I look at him sceptically, “I was spending time with you, why?”

“Would you like to come to dinner with my coworkers, well they’re more like my family, because I spend so much time with them,” He starts rambling obviously nervous.

“Yeah, I would love to come, Spence,” I cut him off, “You want to drive or me?”

Tension releases from his shoulders and he beam at me, “I’ll drive.”

Once in the car, Spencer tells me that his whole team is having a group dinner, a kind of team bonding session. He briefed me on each of the members, trying to help as much as he can.

“You know I can take you back home if you’ve changed your mind, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” He says as we pull up in front of the impressive mansion, and turns the car off.

“Spencer Reid,” This draws his attention towards me, his eyes lock with mine, “I’m excited to meet them, no need to be worried.”

He nods his head and we exit the car and walk up to the door. Spencer rings the doorbell and is quickly back at my side. Nerves begin to bubble in my chest, until hours ago I didn’t even know who these people were, and they most definitely didn't know me. What if they don’t like me? Or that I’m not welcome or don't fit in? I don’t think Spencer would stop being friends with me over that, but my growing feelings for the man would complicate the situation. It’s almost as if Spencer can feel my doubts, as his hand reaches down to join with mine, he squeezes it softly.

“Thank you, pretty boy,” I say, throwing him a wink. The door opens to reveal a man, with a cloth tossed over his shoulder.

“Ey, Reid,” The man says, pulling a laughing Spencer in for a hug, and a kiss to each of his cheeks.

“Rossi,” Spencer says, stepping back, “This is Y/n.” He gestures to me.

“Hi,” I say softly, extending my hand out to shake his. But instead, the man wraps me in a hug and I let out a surprised laugh and hug him back.

“Sorry I’m a hugger, I’m David Rossi, but please call me Dave,” He says once he releases me. “Come in, Come in. We were just about to pour the wine.”

We make our way into the large kitchen and I notice the group of people stood around the island. Their laughter and conversations subside as they notice our presence. My eyes flick over the group. Each of them wears a matching expression, surprise, eventually my eyes make it to a familiar face.

“Wait, JJ?” I say, my face breaking out into a grin. The woman makes her way over to us and wraps me in a hug, which I return quickly. Once we release, she hits Spencer’s arm softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew, Y/n?” JJ says accusatory.

“Wait, how do you know each other?”

I let out a giggle, “JJ was my first customer when I opened my shop, and now shes my second most regular customer, I can always guarantee that she will come in and order her black coffee as soon as I open the shop.”

“Hey, I can’t help that the coffee is so good,” JJ says, shrugging.

“So you know JJ and Spencer, but not the rest of the team. So let me introduce,” Rossi says, placing a hand on my arm to guide me over to the rest of the team, JJ and Spence following soon behind. Dave introduces me to each of the members, all of them give me a warm smile and tell me that they’re glad I’m here.

“So how long have you two been dating?” The dark-haired woman, Emily, asks. “Uh,” Spencer stutters, “We’re not dating.”

“No?” Morgan questions, clearly puzzled.

“Nope,” I say, “We’re just friends.”

“Pretty boy come on,” Morgan groans.

“That’s what I call him,” I laugh, to which Morgan hums, asking what I meant without words, “Pretty boy.”

Morgan lets out a laugh, muttering that he likes me already under his breath.

“Wine?” Dave calls out to me.

I shake my head, “No thank you, I’ve got the morning shift.”

“Wait you didn’t tell me that, when do you need to be home?” Spencer quickly interjects, clearly unsure if I should be out, as he knows that I have to be up to open the shop at 4:30 if I’m on the morning shift. I wave my hand letting him know that it’s okay. Looks are thrown between members of the team, all silently swooning of Spencer and I’s obvious feelings for each other.

“Where was your shop again Y/n?” Penelope asks, a smile on her face.

I smile back at the woman, “It’s actually just down the street from where you guys work, next to Taylor’s bookshop.”

“Wait, what was the shop's name again?” Hotch questions.

“Pour l'âme, It’s french,” I laugh, “It means for the soul, but doesn’t the french version sound so much better.”

“Spencer has definitely brought group coffee to the BAU from there at like 9 o’clock at night,” Morgan says, “And there is no way that you’re open that late.”

My eyes flick to Spencer, whose face is red, “You would be right.”

“So that means that you’re making at least seven coffee’s for dear boy wonder here in your after hours,” finishes Penelope.

I nod my head in response.

“Far out Reid, if you don’t make a move I will,” Emily jokes and the group lets out a collective laugh.

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch, the team continues to make jokes at Spencer’s expense, and I'm sure that it's a normal thing for them to do anyway.

The clock ticks over to ten thirty, and Spencer and I say our goodbyes to the team. Each of them gives me a hug, aside from Hotch who had already left.

“Thank you for dinner, Dave, and thank you for having me everyone, it was great to meet you all,” I say, placing my coat over my shoulders, hoping they understand how truly grateful I am to be included.

“You’re more than welcome at my dinner table any night of the week,” Dave says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

The rest of the team makes comments that suggest they agree. And my heart squeezes, they have successfully made me feel so welcomed and like a part of the family already. We throw goodbyes over our shoulders, and Spencer's hand falls into mine and we walk down to his car. He opens the door for me, but before I get in I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Thank you for taking me, Spence,” I say, burying my head into his chest. Spencer’s arms wrap around me and we just stand together for a moment. My heart races at the intimate moment.

“I’m so glad that you could come,” He mutter’s into the top of my hair, “I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to come without you anymore.”

I let out a laugh and pull away from him and get into the car, and we travel back to my apartment. Spencer parks his car and gets out following me to the back entrance to my apartment. We stand outside of my front door.

“I don’t want to leave you yet,” I confess, a surge of confidence racing through me, “I like being around you. In fact, I think I’m going to surgically attach us together so that I’m always around.”

The two of us laugh. Our eyes lock in the light of the moon, cliche I know, and I can tell that Spencer’s eyes are concentrated on me. His eyes flick down to my lips and I rake my tongue over them.

“I like being around you too,” He whispers, inching closer to me. I can feel his breath on my face at this point, the cinnamon scent that he's always wearing envelops my nose and I feel at home, I feel safe. He leans down slowly and hovers his lips over mine, leaving me time to pull away if it’s not something I want. And oh god do I want it. I step up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his, bringing my hands up to hod his face. His own go around my waist and pull me closer to him. Our lips move together in perfect harmony and it's almost as if the rest of the world slips away. I swipe my tongue over his lips and he opens his mouth to me. We fight for dominance and eventually he wins, pushing me backwards a little bit and we hit my door with a thud, causing us both to laugh and break apart. I grab the back of my head.

“Ow.”

“I’m so sorry,” He says laughing. He places a hand to the back of my head, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say smiling, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth slightly. “So, when are you finally going to ask me out?” I tease.

He lets out another laugh and steps back from me, oozing confidence, “Hey you're the one that told the team that we’re just friends.”

“We are just friends,” I quip back.

He shakes his head, “Do you want to be just friends?”

I shake my head no.

“Good, me either.”

Taglist

@saucybeeches

#spencer reid #spence #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds AU #coffee shop au #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotch hotchner

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lunarfly · 3 years ago

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Hermione as Harry's Light (by Evaluna)

Hello! This is an essay written many years ago, before the release of HBP&DH. It doesn't belong to me so credits to the original writers(Evaluna, Turambar & Mad-I Moody)! It was written on the CoS forum, I'm not sure if it's still saved there but I have a word document with all of the essays. Anyways, this essay has no ship/character bashing. Again, this essay isn't written by me, but it's one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Quote by Mad-I Moody:

"1."Ron's mum's lit a fire in there [Harry's bedroom] and she's sent up sandwiches." -Hermione couldn't know that if she had immediately dashed up to Harry.

2. "Ron and Ginny say that you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's." - She's obviously talked to them about this at some point between their arrival back from the hospital and her arrival at 12GP.

3. "The others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears."

-Does this indicate that she's had time to talk to the other members of the Weasley clan? Sources point to yes!

Now, isn't it sensible to assume that, in the instances wherein Hermione talked to the Weasley family, she was, at least, thoughtful enough to ask about Mr. Weasley?

Saying Hermione came only to be with Harry cannot be true therefore, because:

1. She doesn't go to see him the MOMENT she comes through the door

2. She gets Harry right out of the sulking room and takes him into a room with Ron and Ginny, with whom she has quite obviously been talking.

3. There is no indication that she wants to be alone with Harry"

Mad-I: Disagree. Not just from a textual analysis standpoint; there we have each our own interpretation. My strongest disagreement comes from what I see as a critical ‘septology’ issue [overarching theme of all 7 books]: Harry overcoming his own internal darkness [despair, hopelessness, isolation] before able to wage and win [or overcome] the external darkness [Voldy, evil, fear, hatred and division]. See below post. IMO the Hermione as Lifeline or Light for Harry scene is representative of what Harry must confront and for what he must stand and fight:

--darkness and the battle of good over evil,

--despair [depression] and the battle of love over [here, self-] hatred,

--isolation and limitation [e.g., Harry imposes on himself a prison for his mind], and the battle of love as emanation over barriers, constraints, and perceptions

It begins with himself. And IMO it doesn’t end. But anyway, it progresses from there to encompass the world. On his own, this scene shows that Harry is vulnerable in that he needs a source of love [for himself] to sustain him; only then can Harry be a source of love [for the world] in his [upcoming and perhaps ongoing] battle with darkness. Harry needs love in this regard perhaps more than anyone else in the world, and yet he’s had very little of it, with Sirius mostly kept apart from Harry. Except for Hermione, who has always been there for Harry? With Hermione’s return, once more for Harry there is connection and hope, and the belief in unlimited horizons and potential - some would call it faith -- when with Hermione. For ship and for series, IMO, I believe that Harry’s ability to acknowledge his need for love [for me, this means for Hermione] is the first step on his path to the light.

What the scene does imply is that Hermione’s conversation with Ron and Ginny and the others’ [may include Fred and George as well] was extremely brief and in the majority focused firmly on Harry. So brief in span that the snow had not yet melted even after climbing the stairs and so focused on Harry and his situation that Hermione had the grasp on all the main details already when she first pounded on the door. This is a young woman on a *mission*. A mission to save Harry. Hermione reaches Harry and saves him from himself, from his dark side, from his own personal hell. I personally think this is one of the most critical scenes in the book for Harry and his battle for good over evil, probably the most important one. The battle is within as well as without, and Hermione is the bringer of light to balance his darkness, to bring balance to his soul AK and Earendil:[thanks for SF ref!] a soul is a universe in and of itself <kabbalah, so one could say Hermione is bringing balance to the universe, in this sense]. Some may say it is not romantic..er…well…to each. But it can certainly be argued that the light and dark imagery, in bringing light from darkness, in the balance they provide one another, in the give and take [in interactions, in providing insight [in this scene=hers/giving love to him through her actions when she comes] or providing courage [in this scene=his/accepting her love through his actions when he follows] between them are the yin and yang that represent in both religious and esoteric texts the love on many levels required for spiritual completion of the marriage of two [bodies and souls] as one, separate but together [again, see the smoky caduceus-like vision that Dumbledore views after Harry’s vision prior to their arrival at number 12, which is followed shortly thereafter by the arrival of Hermione.

With this, one can make a case for striking symbolic romantic and platonic love imagery simultaneously, as well, in terms of a soulmate love that is “complete” on an esoteric level, a bonding of body and soul, the material and spiritual. I see no inherent contradiction, probably because I’m not an ancient Greek philosopher named Aristotle. [‘What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies’. --Aristotle] The difference being that we in our day can allow for this kind of soulmate love

between a man and a woman, as well, and that we can allow love to exist on many different levels between a man and a woman, not just Eros or what the Greeks narrowly defined as romantic love. The esoteric concepts of a true bonding of souls between a man and woman did of course contain all of these forms of love, sealed with emotional, physical, and contractual public commitments intended to represent the bonding of two souls as one before God and heaven. IMO how can this scene not be important for Harry, particularly as we all know that love is critical to overcoming all that Voldy is and represents? And whatever type you feel exists them between them, IMO there is deep love. So in fact I think this can be argued strongly as a H/Hr scene. For those who disagree, nonetheless it’s all-good since a deep soul love exists regardless if it is ‘very’ platonic. This is, after all, just a hair’s breadth from ‘total consciousness’.

One more point I mentioned before that I want to bring up in context of reinforcing Hermione’s critical position as Harry’s Light, Lifeline, or Savior. Arguably, since Hermione is key to bringing Harry back from the edge [regardless of what comes later], IMO the larger symbolism is that Hermione is “the one” who will always save Harry from his greatest enemy - himself, his dark side. After that, and only after that, can Harry save the world. She will help him choose light [represented by…Hermione] over darkness [his own despair and hopelessness, his feelings of being unclean and unworthy]. Even I can see some traditional religious symbolism here, but there’s much esoteric symbolism as well. Nonetheless, Ron’s gift of…what, frankincense and myth? Is that why the perfume smelled unusual?... Ron’s gift only seemed to highlight his deeper, intuitive understanding [at some level] of Hermione’s fundamental importance to Harry. Yin and Yang. Inexorably intertwined - just thought I’d throw that in here as well! And for what purpose would Ron is shown as gifting her with such symbolic honor if not to perhaps choose to give his life for hers, thereby saving Harry’s light and thus saving them all. Particularly, if Ron betrays or obstructs Harry and Hermione [this may happen if Ron is rejected by Hermione or “loses” her to Harry, per 6th step scene, falling away from the path to Hermione's door], then Ron may sacrifice himself [from betrayal guilt] to save Harry and/or Hermione [same scene, where Ron falls at Harry's feet] thus restoring his character and his legacy in addition to doing his critical bit to save Hermione &/or Harry [=the world].

(Turambar) I agree that the Christmas scene is one of the most significant in the book.

Just on what you said about the light/dark: it's interesting that JKR accentuates the extremities in various ways to bring out that contrast.

She uses biblical language - appropriate considering the timing - such as "unclean" and "possession" to describe Harry's self-disgust. His feelings of being unfit to be in the company of others brings another biblical image of the leper.

He completely isolates himself for a period rather than just behaves in a moody/angry fashion in company. He's "starving", cold.

Hermione is not mentioned at all from the time of the dream to her knocking on his door - an obvious device to enhance the surprise and impact of her arrival.

There's the imagery of evil (snake) and love (hippogriff) and as I've said before that suspicious dream occurs just when Harry is at his lowest ebb.

I agree with what FP said: the sequence shows the limitations of his relationship with the Weasleys and Sirius and conversely the growing significance to him of Hermione.

Both times he's considered running away when in a depressed state - here and before the First Task - the option has been to run to the barren, loveless Dursleys. To the house that's not a home and the family that isn't a family (to him). Both times he's got through the bad patch with a bit of help from Hermione.

#harry potter #harmione #harmony #harry and hermione #harry potter ships #hermione granger #hp ships #harry x hermione #harry/hermione #hermione and harry #hermione x harry #hermione/harry #harry potter series #harry potter books #hp #hhr #harry potter essay #harmione essay

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willowbird · 4 years ago

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Your writing is so amazing!! I feel like we don't deserve to ask for more because you already gave us so many great drabbles but if its no trouble, could you do 5 and 9?

This has been so much fun and it's no trouble at all!! Writing these lil kisses has been fun and fluffy and feel-good and honestly exactly what I need right now 🧡💙🧡

Throwing their arms around their other person's neck followed by a kiss so passionate and so long that they share each other's breath. 🥰

Oh and @alittlelately this is what I was writing when you asked.

-----

Seven months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, and seventeen minutes.

That's how long it had been since Neil had seen Andrew. Seven long months and some change, where he not only hadn't been able to see the man he loved, but had been barred from calling or communicating with him at all. It had been excruciating, but he had done it and each and every day he had told himself that it was worth it. That it would be worth it for this, this moment and every one that followed.

That had been the deal after all:

One last job for his uncle. One last push to secure the Hatfords' hold on the isle and its alliances with their sister syndicates in France and Germany. Andrew had gone to Germany and Neil to France and had promised not to contact each other until both Dame Lucille and Der Gärtner had agreed to a very binding truce with the Hatfords. Once it was done, then both Neil and Andrew would be free -- Neil of his familial obligations and Andrew of his debt to the syndicate. They could leave, walk away with no shadow, no leeches on their shoulders, just a long open road ahead of them where they could go wherever they wanted, be whoever they wanted, together.

Seven months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, and seventeen minutes.

Neil hadn't even know it was going to end today, not until he got the call from his uncle about an hour ago.

'Are your bags packed?' he'd asked when Neil answered the phone.

'What?'

'Well, I'm just assuming you two plan to hit the road the second he lands, so I thought I'd check to make sure your bags are--'

'When? Where?' Neil had interrupted as soon as his brain had caught up with the information he was being given.

His uncle's voice had softened, not quite to warmth but to something like understanding. Neil knew his uncle loved him -- but his loyalty was always going to be, first and foremost, to the Hatford Syndicate. Since Neil wanted to leave it, he couldn't afford to give him much of that care. At least, not outwardly.

'His plane should land in about an hour. The apartment is yours for as long as you want it. You'll always be family, kid. But... I understand if you want to disappear. It's up to you, and I will respect your wishes.'

And now, here he was. Standing on the remote private airstrip belonging to the family, watching as the small jet rolled to a stop. It took every fiber of his limited self-control to keep himself from breaking into a dead sprint and scaling the outer shell to be there when the fucking door opened.

Somehow, he managed.

Well, at least until the the stairs were rolled up and the door did open. A shadow fell across the opening from the inside, and then a man emerged - dressed in dark jeans and a black jacket, long blond hair in a simple queue over one shoulder, reading glasses still perched high on the bridge of his nose from whatever book he'd been attempting to read on the flight. Attempting, because Andrew had always hated flying, and any distraction was only ever partially effective.

The second Neil saw him, he was moving -- though it wasn't a decision he could recall consciously making. One moment he'd been standing back beyond the safety lines, lingering near the hangar, and the next he was moving forward. Then he was jogging, then he was running. Sprinting. Racing.

But he wasn't the only one.

No one had probably told Andrew that Neil would be there, because he froze at first, the second he saw Neil, and even from the distance Neil could see the shock on his usually too-poised face. A beautiful, cold face that warded off every nuance. A stunning mask of indifference, shattered as he saw who was waiting for him.

For first came surprise, then another thing entirely -- something that might have been pain or wonder or hope but was really just... love.

He took one tentative step down the stairs, then another. Then he took the rest in two leaps and was moving toward Neil with long, powerful strides.

They came together like the birth of a star. Fire and life exploding in a vacuum, creating gravity and the potential for and entire world to exist just within the realm of their touch. One moment they were twenty feet apart, then ten, then five, then a breath, and then not even that much. Two halves of a whole universe, expanding and contracting in the aura of their singular connection.

Neil's arms instantly went around Andrew's neck and Andrew's hands wound about his back, clutching him like he'd bring him so close as to protect him behind the armor of his ribcage, sheltered right beside his beating heart. Then their mouths found each other and oh it was like coming home. It didn't matter where they were. England, France, Germany, fucking Tasmania -- mouth to mouth and soul to soul with their hearts matching a rhythm they could dance to in their sleep, as long as they were together they would be home.

They kissed not only as if to say 'hello' and 'I missed you' and 'this was far too long'. They kissed to remind each other, but not because they needed to remember -- because how could you ever forget yourself? No, they reminded each other of their touches and their taste and the feel of their heat. They kissed to remember that this... This was forever and finally, finally, forever began today.

When the kiss finally broke neither could bear to pull far. Neil felt Andrew tremble in his arms and he was sure the other man was feeling the same of him. Their lips remained lightly grazing as they gasped for air, sharing breaths, shaky and light-headed and a little bit overwhelmed.

Neil's voice was rough when he spoke, and all he could manage to say was, "Andrew." Then, because he could finally say it, he said it again, and again.

"Andrew. Andrew. God. Andrew. I.. A-Andrew."

"I know," Andrew rasped quietly, putting only enough distance between them for their eyes to meet. Neil could still feel Andrew's breath against his cheek and was not let willing to let go of that sensation, would not surrender that nearness. Not yet.

So he didn't. So he held on. He looked into the most beautiful honey-sunrise eyes he had ever seen and he did not let go. He held on and he said, "Andrew." He held on and he put eternity into his grasp as he held on tight and promised, promised, with each breath he took and every ounce of strength in his body, that he would never, ever, let go again.

Andrew looked back and held on just as tight, and with the shake of his soft gasps and the fierceness of his gaze, he promised too.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #andrew minyard #andreil #my writing #neil josten #asks #anonymous #kiss prompts #lets be real and call this what it is #true loves kiss

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leakyrocktarot · 3 years ago

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Hello Bee.

Hope you are feeling good and healthy.💖

I wanted to ask this question for so long this may sound dumb but you are the best person from whom I can get clear guidance without sugar coating so here I am,

Q. Bee I have read that not everyone have Twinflame. Is this true?

And,

Why God chooses only few soul and assign them Twinflames?

And Last Q. If person have Twinflame, then they have TF in every lifetime?

Thank you so much.🙏🏻

Hope this will not drain your energy if it does then please delete my ask.

Take care.

Sending warm healing vibes.🌸🙏🏻💖

Every old soul has a twin flame, but to my knowledge most new souls don't. It was intended for humans to have two consciousnesses, one to be more receptive to spirit, and one to live within the 5D. However, some deities (cough cough yahweh couch hack wheeze) felt threatened by that and split them apart, punishing the more spiritually aware twin. In my opinion, everyone does have a twin flame but not everyone is meant to be with their twin in every life. Sometimes our twins don't reincarnate with us, or they reincarnate at a later date and most of the time in a completely different area of the world. The twins of this age is lucky because we have social media, it can connect us to anyone in seconds, but back in the olden days, most twins wouldn't know of each other's existence until they cross paths, and even then they wouldn't truly know. It is said that there will be 10 moments where twins will be in the same place at the same or different time before union. God has nothing to do with twins he's kind of the reason for their existence but not in the good way but I digress. Twins were assigned a specific purpose than other soul connections which is why their journey tends to be a shit ton harder. They are meant to help people, by either being light workers, humanitarians, or working to preserve the planet and the beings on it. All twin flames are starseeds, they all come from different planets and solar systems, meant to spread love and light and move on to the next galaxy. The reason why so many things are going on with the ocean and the world, why it was on fire, and why the government is bombing the ocean, it's an awakening. And, whether or not your twin incarnates with you in this life, they will always be with you in spirit, they share your consciousness. Imagine a house with two rooms, those are you and your twins rooms, and there is a door out of each room that leads to another room, that is your shared room. I hope I answered your questions!!

#twin flames #spirit #spiritual entities #spiritual download #spiritual signs #spiritual messages #spiritual practices #spiritual journey #spirituality #spiritual awakening #soulmate #twinflame #twin flame #soul connection

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traumatizedjaguar · 3 months ago

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What I learned from my spiritual journey (I give credit to God, the creator of everything)

and what I need to teach you all:

you are not defined by your thoughts and feelings

duality is an illusion (only love exists on the other side)

death is an illusion

time is an illusion

we are all divine (we just limit our senses and abilities for certain reasons)

everyone has a purpose, it all eventually comes back to love or experience and knowledge

hell does not exist

the physical plane plane is a school, not a courtroom

its not judgement day, its correction day

every single soul gets a life review and you feel everything from the others perspective

Jesus Christ is very real (he does not condemn)

We all have lived multiple lifetimes as different people (reincarnation).

Everything you do effects everything and everyone so choose wisely.

Vibrations makes up our energy or consciousness and your thoughts, intentions, and behaviors dictates where your energy vibrates

We are loving, virtuous, emotional beings of LIGHT

Virtues determine where and how you vibrate

the higher your vibrations, the brighter your light

Unconditional love is all that matters

We are apart of a collective consciousness (meaning I'm you, you're me, we are all divine; I am apart of your consciousness and you're all apart of mine; you're emotions are mine and mine is yours, I know all your thoughts, intentions and actions or life you lived and what happened to you from each lifetime you've had and you know all of mine... because that's what love is, full acceptance and vulnerability).

We are all accepted by all other souls and by God, we are not judged, we are all honored on the other side (YOU are honored in your own uniqueness as a soul).

Even when you think what you do is private and affects nobody... it it does; even your thoughts can affect others across the country through the energy grid/collective consciousness. We all have access to all information (we are made in God's image btw - omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent in spirit, etc)

The universe is literally created from the single source energy that is unconditional love so everything we do must line up with that.

We are made in God's image.

There is an energy grid that makes up everything and we're all connected to it and each other and effected by everything that others put into it.

My human philosophy I personally learned was prideful and wrong/immoral. Meaning I took advantage of using human opinion to make harmful choices or harmful opinions as my human philosophy did not add up to love.

Focus your energy on compassion toward the victim of something rather than your anger/hate toward the other side. Ask yourself this: do you genuinely want to help the cause you're 'fighting' for? Revenge is inherently illogical and is known only for the power-trip, revenge is ignoring the cause you supposedly care about, while focusing on helping the cause will only support the ones who need it around you. There's psychology studies to back this up. And vibrations from souls (science we've yet to come to understand) that back this up, you diminish the vibrations of many others making them worse, people all around you and it goes out into the universe by behaving on power-trips.

realizing what God taught me or led me to allowed me to gain more healing in my trauma and not want revenge on my abusers/everyone in my blood line bc its truly not justified for me to get revenge on them nor was it justified for them to abuse me in the first place.

One of my purposes is to teach you these truths God gave me and to wake up all of you to the truth of our existence.

honestly after everything I saw and learned:

Have no fear. Fear is an illusion.

#spirituality

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years ago

Text

Can You Imagine? XI

A/N: WOW, I have had... a really strange week. For those of you who are reading my fic Not Today, there will be more detail in that A/N as that is the fic that was effected by this week, and for those of you who *aren't* reading it, I don't want to bore you with the details of something that has no effect on you or your story. So! Without further ado, slight tw for feelings of panic and fear at the beginning of this chapter, and I hope you enjoy! Skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

Rewind

The first thing Ivar felt was sheer panic. Freydis wasn’t waking up. They’d argued the night before, and gone to bed, and then she hadn’t come out the next morning. The Lack of her presence had him knocking at her door, calling her name through it, but he was met with silence. Silence, and no Freydis.

Well, they were married, weren’t they? Hadn’t they been for hundreds of years? What sort of a husband would he be if he didn’t peek in and check on her, when she was entirely unresponsive?

A pretty horrible one, and he was trying to do better.

Ivar opened the door, and poked his head inside. “Freydis?” he whispered.

Panic.

Her back was arched to an unnatural degree, and that red smoke he’d realized was intrinsically connected to her power was pouring from her fingertips, holding her up. Whatever was going on here, it had to do with her powers, and it was causing fear to rise up into his throat. The whole room felt darker, felt crushing, and it felt as if grief and desperation were clawing at him, trying to worm their way into his heart.

It wasn’t until then that he noticed the way her magic was climbing up his legs, wrapping around him, curling around him and reaching higher and higher. His chest began to heave as he watched it, as it moved over his hips, to his chest, snaking up to his-

Ivar suddenly fled the room. The magic released him, returning to its source.

His mind was reeling as he tried to determine what exactly he needed to do. The bedroom and bathroom were the only places not monitored by security, meaning no one but he would be aware of the problem. Freydis couldn’t wake, and it was as if her magic had entirely taken over.

Part of him wanted to immediately go and look in on her again, see if he could figure out what was going on, but then he remembered the way her magic had been trying to crawl into him, and he decided against it. No, Freydis needed better help than what he could provide. She needed the professionals who ran this place.

The truth was, whatever power had been given to her, it was far more extensive than what he had been given. Yes, they’d fixed his legs before they woke him, replaced his bones in such a way that they would never break again, and then given him some serum which made him stronger than he’d ever been- stronger, and faster, and more capable- but that was nothing compared to what they’d done for her.

Freydis, they may as well have turned into a Völva. This wasn’t Seiðr she was performing, not in the slightest. Though he wouldn’t have doubted if someone told him Freydis did practice Seiðr, and could indeed commune with the Gods in such a way, this wasn’t the same.

This was a magic that had been put into her blood, something he doubted she would ever be able to cut from her life. Though from the looks of it, she was battling it for her life as it was.

He’d heard once, from the shipbuilder, Floki, that he would know he’d found the right match for himself when it was someone he could not live without. As a Prince, he’d imagined his marriage would be arranged by his mother, to some Princess, or the daughter of some Earl, but he had been surprised.

One of the benefits to being King was the ability to wed whoever he chose, and when Freydis had first appeared in Kattegat, after all their success in York, he’d taken it as a sign from the Gods that she was to be his wife. Hearing she was unmarried had been confirmation of that, he believed.

But war was a terrible thing. It darkened the brightest of souls, and Freydis had been forced to betray him because of the darkness which had begun to cloud his judgement. At the time, he’d believed killing her himself to be the right thing to do. He’d spared her the judgement of the town. And… he’d committed an atrocity.

The loss of Freydis had proven to him exactly how much she meant to him, and if not for his sheer stubbornness, he thought he might not have lived. For a while, he’d even wondered if it was worth it without her.

The one you can’t live without…

Ever since that day, Floki’s voice had echoed in his head, reminding him that he’d lost the one who meant everything to him. Even Katia, beautiful and sweet as she was, was not Freydis. Freydis had been his match, and he had killed her.

Some match he had been.

Some match he still was.

Fighting for her life had to be his priority now. Even if she hated the way it was done, he had to save her. He couldn’t go through losing her again, not when he’d finally gotten her back- however much distance there was between them.

He called for Dr. Schmidt and Professor Andersen.

As soon as he explained that something was horribly wrong with Freydis, they’d dropped everything to come and see what it was.

Ivar had let them both into the apartment as quickly as he could, and they’d rushed inside, medical equipment with them- among other equipment he didn’t recognize- and gone straight into the bedroom.

In just the few hours it had taken to get ahold of them and get them to her, her magic had gone out of control. It filled the room, and they stepped out to face Ivar.

As soon as the door shut, he was off the couch and meeting them. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, but the anxiety written on his face made it so he didn’t have to. They knew what he was asking immediately. What’s wrong with her, and will she be okay?

The two shared a look, and let out a sigh. “We tried to reach her,” Dr. Schmidt eventually said. “Her magic is strong, and it was pulling us in. We…”

“She’s in her own mind,” Professor Andersen took over. “Her magic has receded into her again, so she’s safe to be around, but we cannot say when she will wake.”

“What do you mean you cannot say?” Ivar questioned, crossing his arms and shifting his weight- he hadn’t been able to really do that before. “Is she sick?”

“With grief, if you will,” said Dr. Schmidt. “Grief, and perhaps some anxiety, and fear. Did anything happen last night before she went to bed?”

Ivar swallowed hard.

They’d argued. Gods, they had argued, and she’d gone to bed alone. Had that done it? Was that the final thing which pushed her over the edge into this sleep? And if she didn’t survive…

Would he have killed her a second time?

“Is she going to be alright?” he eventually found it within himself to ask.

“We… believe so,” replied Professor Andersen. “It appears she is stable. But Ivar, we got a glimpse into her mind, when her magic entered us briefly.”

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

Dr. Schmidt actually smiled a bit, something he found incredibly unnerving, as she answered, “She’s in Kattegat, in her mind. You were there with her, and a baby. She kicked us out, and that was when her magic retreated again, but she was there.”

“It appears that she’s created a world where nothing went wrong, perhaps a world she would still live in if she could. It may be her way of coming to terms with what has happened, we can’t say, but we can say she’s at least stable, as is her magic, now,” Professor Andersen finished explaining.

Ivar let out a slow breath. “But she will wake, you believe?” he asked more sharply.

“Yes,” Dr. Schmidt said. “But when…?” She shrugged. “It’ll be when she’s ready, and not a moment sooner. For now, I suggest you just make yourself comfortable and wait. Her magic will keep her stable internally, she won’t need to be fed, or have anything to drink, so long as she’s being maintained by her powers.”

“How do you know that?” Ivar pressed.

“Because,” she answered. “We’ve seen it once before.”

Ivar’s brows creased as he watched them bid him farewell, and as they slipped quietly out of the apartment. He gave a small shake of his head. If anxiety hadn’t filled him before…

He turned silently and walked into Freydis’s room, pulling a chair around beside the bed so he could sit, and he could watch her.

She seemed so peaceful now, not nearly the horrifying mess he’d discovered that morning. Her chest was rising and falling at a natural rate, her head tilted back just slightly in what appeared to be a comfortable position. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and brushing back a strand of her hair.

Freydis shifted in her sleep just a bit, as if reacting to the touch, leaning into it. For just a moment, Ivar smiled softly. And then he remembered what was at stake, if she never woke from this sleep.

His smile fell, replaced by anxiety, his brows creasing as his hand slid down her arm to take her hand. He captured it between his own, and brought it so he could lightly kiss the back.

“They tell me you are dreaming,” he whispered to her, though he knew she wouldn’t hear. “I hope your dreams are happy- happier than life here.” Ivar swallowed hard as he took a deep breath, and rested his chin on their joined hands. “I know it is my fault that you have left this place. I caused you too much pain when we lived before, and now you have had to face this again and again.

“But I hope you will come back, Freydis. I do not wish to navigate this world without you, as I navigated the one before. They didn’t say if you can hear me, but in case you can… I swear to you, Freydis, I will never hurt you again. If you will come home to me, I will do all that I can to make you happy.” He took a deep breath, and spoke once more before falling into silence.

“I love you, Freydis.”

Weeks passed, and there was no sign from her that she would wake. Ivar talked to her as if she were awake and could respond, because who else did he have to talk to? His days were filled with sitting at her bedside, disappearing only to take time to eat, and then returning to keep his watch over her.

His sleep began to slip out of a schedule, out of any pattern, and he slept only when he fell asleep because he couldn’t stay awake any longer. He’d have a few hours, his head fallen on the mattress, and then wake and resume his watch.

Weeks turned into a month, and even longer, and Ivar was growing weary. He’d taken to begging her, sometimes, to wake. Even if it was just for a few moments so he could see she was well. If it hadn’t been for the steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d have doubted if she lived at all.

It wasn’t until he’d fallen asleep again, one of his hands clutching hers, the other tucked up under his head, that his pleas finally began to be answered. Or, rather, they were answered entirely.

Freydis opened her eyes slowly, and the room seemed to spin for just a few moments before it settled into place. Once it had, she began to look around, and it didn’t take her long to find Ivar laying there, his hand holding hers, fallen asleep in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position.

She had no way of knowing how long she had been asleep, had no way to know that for every day that passed in her mind, a day had passed for her husband as well. Still, her free hand lifted and ran slowly through his hair.

Her life had been changed while she slept, and as she looked at her husband- who she imagined had deposited himself at her bedside and remained there for the duration of her sleep- she felt herself softening to him.

Horrible things had happened between them, she was well aware of that. He’d killed Baldur, she’d turned him over to Björn Ironside, and he’d killed her. But… she’d seen a life with him, even if it couldn’t be in Kattegat.

The hand pushing through his hair was what woke Ivar, and he looked up at her with tired eyes. In a moment, they widened, and he was sitting up in shock. “Freydis-!” he gasped. The way he lit up at seeing her awake made a grin stretch across her face, and she nodded.

“Hello, Ivar,” she greeted. The sound of her voice might have just been the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard, Ivar thought in that moment. Especially when he’d doubted if he’d ever hear it again.

As if in a flash, Ivar was suddenly seated on the side of the bed, both his hands holding her hand tightly. “I feared you would not wake,” he told her. “It has been a month, Freydis…”

Her eyes widened a bit in shock. “A month?” she questioned, looking around once more. “I meant to lay down for the night…”

He chuckled softly at her bewilderment. “You laid down for far longer,” he said. “I was worried for you…”

Freydis turned to him with a small smile, and reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I assure you, I am well,” she said, and the way he leaned into her touch didn’t pass her notice. Gods, he seemed so on edge…

“I was afraid I would not speak with you again, and I might lose you before I could tell you,” he began. “Freydis, I-”

But he was cut off by his wife, who just gave a small shake of her head. “There is much we must discuss,” she said, and finally sat up to face him. “But there is time for that. For now…” She took a deep breath, and then leaned against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

“For now, you are real, and we are both here,” she said. “I want to enjoy this, before we discuss the hard things.”

Ivar couldn’t say what had changed her so much as she slept, not when she had slept for so long, but in a way… He wasn’t sure it matter so much. It would matter soon, maybe, but not just yet. For the time being, he focused on the fact he was able to wrap his arms around his wife, and hold her again. The hard things would come soon, but for just then… Just then, he was going to hold her for as long as she’d let him.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #freydis #queen freydis #alex hogh andersen #alicia agneson #ivar x freydis #freyvar #ivar's heathen army #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #can you imagine?#chapter eleven

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 4 years ago

Note

I would love an imagine with lewis nixon with a little angst that turns into fluff, please!

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 ; 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

pairing: lewis nixon x fem!reader plot: relationships sometimes get rough, even in the middle of te war –but lewis is here to doubt that. word count: 2,367

(dm or request for me to my taglist if you want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(•ᴗ•❁))

dating lewis nixon was not definitely easy. yeah, he was nearly alcoholic, he had a daring persona, and the meaning of the “healthy connection with parents” was unknown for him. although, he was a good guy with a clear brain and the best humour you had ever known, and not to mention, he was protective as hell towards you. lewis’ fear, that you were gonna find a much better guy than him before he got to marry you was really, really strong: you were one of the most honoured women -hell, even between men- at the army. your strategies always worked, and you even had the connection with the secret service, planning and writing the commands, even when nobody was capable of thinking about victory or success in the middle of chaos. you had names like speirs, who was a living legend just like you -you were the “battle widow”, even if you never had a spouse, not even at home, or a lover.

until now.

in the first months of your relationship, each of you were at toccoa, every moment with each other was filled with love and soft smiles, cheeky comments on this and that, warm sheets around you in the morning or after a very lovely night -because by each other's side, you could do anything. but before they went to aldbourne, fort benning or camp mackall, you needed to move to washington, back to the centre of everything -they needed you. meanwhile, lewis got more somber and serious, just the war, he’s just worried a little bit, you thought. you were too nervous as hell, if he gets shot or injured, if something permanent happens… you didn't want to think about it, either. his best friend, winters was a good man too -sometimes even better than lewis-, and the night before you got up to the train, you asked him to look over lewis -of course he don’t gotta be able to carry him or something, just assure that he don’t do something dumb and don’t hurt himself or anybody else. your heart stung when he got out from the view, but grabbing the necklace at your chest -he gave it to you on the date you kissed-, you somehow knew that everything was gonna be alright.

but now, little things scared you -or these were just little things to him, but to you, they were very big. at first, lewis’ letters got shorter and shorter, in turn they were still out of danger, and while you wrote at least one page, his writing was barely a half or one fourth of a paper long. and the second, you got news that he’s drinking more and more. okay, maybe these things were bigger than they would have been, but nah, you were just in love, no? probably, he was just too busy, or something was wrong with the transporting of the letters, or… you tried to collect reasons desperately, legitimating that you and him are alright. you even expected to write to winters, to spy about lewis, but you never wanted to involve him in something he was not supposed to be involved in -your problem was just yours and your boyfriend’s. the moment when you got back to your tiny apartment after two long day -you had to sleep in there because of the nonstop readiness-, you dared to dial the number of the centre of aldbourne’s military station. maybe he’s in the near, or some of his friends and you can talk with him.

-please, just pick up -you muttered, a little blunt sound pricked in the line of the phone. after a few seconds, you heard a little shuffling. -camp aldbourne’s military station centre, what can i help? -you sighed when you heard winters, sitting down on the couch to speak a little bit calmer. -hi, i’m (y/n), and… can you please toss me to lewis? is he near of you? -you asked warily, hoping that the answer was gonna be a “yes, of course”. -sorry, but he’s with lipton and harry welsh. perhaps if i call you back later, can you keep it a little bit? -yeah, of course, but winters -you jabbered, and continued before he could say anything. -is lewis… okay?

you heard winters exhaling, and you felt that he’s thinking. but what about? that lewis’ worse? how worse?

-lew’s fine, he’s just… his things just got together, but he handles it. is everything okay, or… -no, just give him, please. thanks -you shaked off, feeling a little guilty about your tone, but all you wanted to hear was your boyfriend. a couple of moments later you got what you wanted -but not how you wanted.

-hey, (y/n), what’s up? -you squinted on the question. what’s up? he always asked “how are you” or “are you okay, baby”, but not shitty “what’s up”. -hi, lewis. is everything alright, love? i am… a little worried about you -you began, circling your finger on the fabric of the sofa. -you don’t need to, ‘kay? everything's fine, just mind your own business or i don’t know.

you almost gulped at this, hoping he doesn't hear the bitter mumble. but now, you knew that with gentleness, you’re not gonna get to know anything.

-okay, fine. but then why did you not answer my letters? or calls? -i wrote to you, everytime. -but not as much as- -(y/n) don’t do this, okay? i don’t have time, and- -neither i, lew.

all you hoped was that he gets silent on the end of the line, and thinks about you. how you miss him, how you want him to lay beside you in the night, or keeping his hand on your thigh a little bit possessively when he drives -somewhere, to the place that only you and him know about. but the massive, bitter taste on your tongue didn’t want to let go.

-listen, (y/n), i don’t have time for this. i’m busy, i have to administer a lot, practice a lot, and we are on the edge of fighting. i know it’s hard for you, but you have to get used to it. -and this is not hard for you? those letters don’t matter to you? -jesus, why does every woman be like this? you’re like my mother, y/n.

your face frowned, and your brain fumbled -did he say this for real?

-god no, lew. i’m just worried about you, i care about you, you fucker, i go to sleep with the consciousness that you don’t… you’re not gonna survive, or anything! -that’s right, because i don’t know what’s gonna happen, damn it! i’m going to jump out in the middle of the war, and maybe get injured, but you only worry about your dumb fucking letters!

-then fuck you, okay? how am i supposed to write to you in the middle of the night, when i could sleep too, but keep up to show you that i love you! and you just shit down these letters, how am i supposed to keep everything together when you don’t give a fuck about us, or anything? -you nearly shouted, and you knew that some of his colleagues watch him from the corner of his eyes.

-because you’re fucking perfect, miss “widow of war”, miss “everybody loves me”, and you know everything better than anyone! i hate this, that everytime i get compared to you, and get the shit! -i never wanted to be better, how can you say a thing like this? i love the way you are, lew! but you give up, because mom’s little son never was in the target, where everything’s fucked up! -a single tear wetted your shirt, you stopped your shaking breakdown with the batting of your lashes.

then, it became silent. you didn’t know what was gonna happen, but you hoped that he’s gonna respond, even if your face was nearly bright red from the anger.

-yeah, maybe that’s my fault. but your fault is that you don’t fuck someone better.

the words burned into your ears, sliding down to your stomach, pulled out the worst kind of failure from you.

-fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! -crying out, not knowing that he’s hearing you or not -not caring either-, you flunked the phone with all of your force to the table, trying to get away from it as far as you could.

you didn’t remember much that night, only the sadness blew up in your soul stronger and stronger. you felt so strange in your house, feeling the emptiness like never before -falling on knees, letting the darkness inside.

✧༺♡༻∞　

stepping on the muddy dutch ground, your stomach grumbled at the thought of the things that wait here for you. colonel sink sent a message that the american army in europe needs reinforcement -that’s why you were here, making plenty of good decisions, keeping the battalion, the companies together, and… maybe meeting with your lover. or ex-lover? you didn’t know, you only knew that you’re not gonna let the burning hole inside your soul take the lead ahead.

-it’s such a pleasure to see you, colonel (y/l/n). our state was getting a little bit lower this time, but all of the people fight with all of their force. want some coffee, colonel? -captain heyliger asked you, while you took your coat off, the beige-brown, oversized shirt tucked into your pants covered the white t-shirt you wore, the necklace brushed at your skin. the movement flew with bringing back some bad memories.

-no, thank you. all i want is to jump in the middle of the work, that’s why i’m here -you smiled, hoping that you don’t meet with anyone you don’t want to. but now, lewis and you were exactly neutral to each other, you had nothing to be ashamed of. sitting down in the big office, you began to write, didn’t see who came in -seeing his silhouettes in the glass of the cabinet, for lewis’ fortune, this was the cause of your inner peace. the man behind you didn’t say anything -standing there, you can’t stand a question.

-are you gonna stay there forever, or do you want something? -your voice was never colder towards him. and this wasn’t your fault.

-i just heard that you arrived here. -i did.

silence again. fucking empty, fucking helpless silence.

-and i wanted to talk with you, too. -and what held you back until this time? -’just thought you’re busy -yeah, i was busy searching for another man, you could say, but didn't have the courage to say it. after the loss, with broken skin and soul, you never wanted to give him a broken heart too. -yeah, i was. -but i’m here now. and i’m talking with you. or at least i want to. -and what if i don��t want to, huh? perhaps nothing, because you don’t care about my feelings -echoing this sentence in your mind, you didn’t let out. let him talk. maybe he can be better this time, no?

lewis stepped closer, his frame in the sharp gaze got heavier and taller.

-and… i wanted to say sorry. for everything i said before. and those unsent letters, those unspoken words that show how much i love you. and that how much i missed you, for real. not just your silly but meaningful worries, or the moments we made together… i want you back. i want you back with all of this stuff, and i know that i barely can make up for this, i should have written those letters, but… turns out that really, i am the asshole.

you stayed quiet, all the time he spoke, he had a little bit thinner voice -another sign that he rarely did this in his life. and yeah, maybe lewis was sometimes an asshole, your asshole, the biggest asshole you could imagine… but in the end, lewis was just himself. lewis was lewis, the little bit alcoholic, loudmouthed as hell, yet mostly dependable, protective friend. and boyfriend, how good boyfriend.

-i understand, if you don’t want to stay with me, or… anythin- you didn’t let him to end the sentence, standing up, turning to him, giving him hope like you always had. standing before lewis, you saw the rough circles under his eyes, the little, hairline-thin, maroon tears on his cheeks or his lips, you realized you can’t be mad at him.

-i want to stay with you, forever. i just thought that… you think the things serious, what you told me. i don’t want another, i want you, too. i want your love, so just please… show me, okay?

his eyes melted at your silent words, almost whispers in his ears, fading beside the beating of his blood. sliding one of his arms around your waist, just how you like, bringing you closer to him -just like on one of the nights in each other’s presence-, his other arms’s fingers sliding through yours, just like your favourite book what he bought for you months ago; you don’t wanted to end it without him.

-i’ll always show you, miss perfection -his voice is totally harmless, a silk that brushes against your ear, you smile a little bit, finding the pieces from the two of you that belong together -because that’s how it works. grabbing a little bit on his lusty hands, almost brushing your cheeks against his; -thank you. i almost wanted to search for someone better -you began, enjoying teasing him-, but guess i’m too tired for it. i found the best, it’s so hard to look for another.

his smirk woke the most powerful love in the pit of your heart, leaning closer to him, giving a kiss to your temple, your brain almost got too dizzy already. -too tired, hm?

all you were able to do is a weak-at-the-knees nod, smiling like never in the former months. lewis chuckled a little bit, bringing your lips to his, letting all the air and soreness running out from you, his hands and lips burning on your body like the good old times back in the time;

-what a shame.

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xhanisai · 6 years ago

Text

AU where Adrien is darker and has less morals

- Similar to how things are in canon but the show would be rated r15 cos of heavy violence >:D - Basically Adrien looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you. Marinette looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll. - During the umbrella scene in Origins, Adrien works out that Marinette is Ladybug. He keeps quiet about it though to respect her privacy and will wait till she's ready to share on her own terms. - Marinette is unaware that Adrien and Chat Noir are the same person whilst Adrien is oblivious to her humongous crush on him. He tries to subtly win her over both as Adrien and as Chat, resulting in Blushinette or Sassinette. - Whenever an Akuma manages to get a hit on Ladybug or any of Chat's friends, he doesn't hesitate to pummel them down vigorously. - Ladybug always has to scold him for being too harsh on the Akumas, constantly reminding him that there's an innocent victim underneath being used as a puppet. - Imagine a scenario: "Goodness Chaton! Just because they gave me a black eye doesn't mean you can go ahead and break their arm or toss them off the Eiffel Tower! Only God would know what would happen if I were to bleed from an itty bitty scratch," "Then that would be the day we find out what Cataclysm does to a person, M'Lady," "...N-Nice joke Chat." "I wasn't joking Ladybug." - Since he already knows, Chat isn't insistent on knowing her identity or asking if they could reveal themselves to each other. - This mad lad is very protective over Marinette in school in his own way. He's infamously known for having eyes that would "burn your soul" if you get on his wrong side - He is sarcastic and sharp with Chloe, especially when he finds out that she made Marinette's school life a nightmare before he and Alya joined. In fact his mumbled threats have Chloe shit scared to come near him or Mari. - Chloe does try to improve as a person but our lovely trio: Alya, Adrien and Nino repels Chloe from coming near Marinette. Our Asian girl is blissfully unaware of this set up, too busy thinking about tonight's patrol with Chat. - Though, Adrien can be really sweet and selfless. When Nino admits that he's crushing on Marinette too despite knowing Adrien is aiming for her, Adrien encourages him to go for her. It killed him inside but Adrien thought that if he can't make Marinette happy, at least she'd be in great hands with Nino (Animan episode). Thankfully, Alya and Nino gets locked in a cage, bonds, and BOOM we have Djwifi~ - Chat Noir's solo patrols is when the beast wakes up. The good people of Paris may see him and Ladybug as a comforting presence but the bad, evil people know how brutal Chat can be. - Chat has broken limbs belonging to thieves, shattered ribs belonging to abusive people, left killers in a near death state. - Adrien feels bad enough that Ladybug is unaware of his actions during the night and the last thing he wants to do is shed unnecessary blood, scaring the heroine. - Plagg fully supports Adrien's actions as he's chaotic neutral "Listen kid, this is why the power of Destruction, us, serve as a counterpart to the power of Creation. We exist to show that mercy is a luxury and the consequences that befalls on the people that take advantage of kindness. Ladybug may turn the other cheek and forgive; we fight fire with with fire. We will take away life if necessary. So don't feel guilty at all." "Thanks Plagg...I just want to keep Paris...and my Marinette safe no matter what. I'd do anything. Everything." - (See the parallels between Adrien and Gabriel here~? ;D) - Hawkmoth/Gabriel is very intimidated by Chat Noir and Adrien also managed to scare him a few times. - When Ladybug contacted Chat Noir to protect Marinette whilst she plays as bait and goes on the date with Evillustrator, he cataclysmed Chloe's balcony to dust in rage for her recklessness. - During Horrificator, Chloe didn't interrupt the kiss between Marinette and Adrien; she stood there gawking. Adrien was a smitten kitten, full on kissed Marinette that Nino and Alya had to shout their names so that they pulled apart. - "Girl, you're one of the most smartest people out there yet you can't grasp the fact that Mini Agreste is head over heels for you???" "Alya-aaa! You're just saying that to make me feel hopeful..." "He. Made. Out. With. You. For. Ages. On. That. Film. We. Did." "Cos it was in the script!" "There was tongue!" "He was making it realistic?" "MON DIEU MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG! HE WAS LIKE A SATISFIED CAT THAT GOT THE CREAM AFTER THAT DAMMIT!" - Oblivious Marinette is best Marinette. - During the Dark Cupid/Dislocoeur event, after getting hit by an arrow, Chat successfully cataclysmed Ladybug's mask. She pulls him in for a kiss to not only break the spell but also to hide her face. - When Chat regains consciousness, Ladybug found a plastic bag conveniently blowing past, puts it over her head to hide her identity. - The rest of the event goes as canon except Marinette had a plastic bag on her head this whole time. - Tikki finds out that Adrien is both Chat Noir and that he has known Ladybug's identity from the start. She finds that it makes sense with how extra protective he is over her civilian identity and thanks Adrien for keeping Marinette safe at all times as well as being a worthy partner. - A secret group of criminals that are against the heroes, plot the downfall of Ladybug and Chat Noir together. - Chat Noir, having underground links and connections from his feats, catches wind of this. - He's too late and Ladybug gets shot by a special bullet straight after an akuma attack, right in the chest. - Chat Noir cataclysms every single criminal that was part of the organisation into rotting corpses in pure rage. Hawkmoth tries to akumatise him but Chat cataclysms the butterfly too into dust. - Marinette luckily survives thanks to the hospital receiving her so quickly. She was born with Dextrocardia with Situs Inversus (which means that her heart is on the right side rather than the left). If her heart was in the normal position, she would have died. - Adrien doesn't leave her side during the day and Chat Noir during the night. Marinette has no recollection of the incident she got shot. - When Lila comes along, Adrien knew she was trouble and a liar from the start. He had the urge to cataclysm the whole school as they bought into Lila's lies without any questioning. Plagg almost encouraged him. - Adrien took the opportunity to mess with Lila. "I am Volpina. A hero much, much better and stronger than Ladybug. This is my miraculous," "Hehe...Lila, Lila, oh Lila... showing me your precious miraculous is a huge mistake. If you don't want a first hand view of a fox getting skinned alive, you will listen to I, Hawkmoth, and hand over your miraculous to me." - Lila literally runs off, scared shitless, shouting that she was joking and that Volpina doesn't exist. - Marinette overhears everything and has a crisis. "OH NO TIKKI WHAT DO I DO!? THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS THE ENEMY OF PARIS AND ICANTFIGHTHIMWHAAAAT!?" - It takes Tikki 15 minutes to calm Marinette down and promise that Adrien isn't Hawkmoth. Said kwami swears internally to teach both Plagg and Adrien a lesson for riling Mari up to this level. - Adrien overhears Marinette's freakout cos he's literally 6 feet away and both he and Plagg are wearing shit eating grins. "Ah, so the stammering and shyness makes sense now. Love of her life hmmm? I love the sound of that~" "Keep your whiskers on kitten and run before Tikki throttles me for letting you go too far with that joke!" "Aww... but I wanna ask Marinette for a little kiss," "YOU WILL CAUSE THE LITTLE BUG TO COMBUST AND DIE AND BOOM PARIS IS A GONER!"

My artworks for this AU:

(x) - Doodles

(x) - Horrificator kiss

(x) - Mini Comic

#my aus #dark adrien au #i stg this is the fourth time i'm trying to upload it i think tumblr just hates mobile #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien #please tumblr just post this i fcukcing can't even anymore #ml #mlb #saved this on drafts on mobile and i can't view them like jfc #this also gives me dark sonic x amy vibes huehueuhe

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boreothegoldfinch · 3 years ago

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chapter 11 paragraph ix

The Purple Cow was on an untravelled one-way street just wide enough for a car to go through. All the other businesses around—pharmacy, bakery, bike shop—were shut tight, everything but an Indonesian restaurant on the far end. Shirley Temple let us off out front. On the opposite wall, graffiti: smiley face and arrows, Warning Radioactive, stenciled lightning bolt with the word Shazam, dripping horror-movie letters, keep it nice! I looked in through the glass door. The place was long and narrow, and— at first glance—empty. Purple walls; stained glass ceiling lamp; mismatched tables and chairs painted kindergarten colors and the lights low except for a grillside counter area and a lighted cold case glowing in back. Sickly house plants; signed black-and-white photo of John and Yoko; bulletin board shaggy with leaflets and flyers for satsangs and yoga classes and varied holistic modalities. On the wall was a mural of the Tarot arcana and, in the window, a flimsy computer-printed menu featuring a number of Everett-style wholefoods: carrotsoup, nettlesoup, nettlemash, lentil-nutspie—nothing very appetizing, but it made me remember that the last honest-to-God, more-than-a-few-bites meal I’d eaten had been the take-out curry in bed back at Kitsey’s. Boris saw me looking at it. “I am hungry too,” he said, rather formally. “We will go get a really good dinner together. Blake’s. Twenty minutes.” “You’re not going in?” “Not yet.” He was standing slightly to the side, out of view of the glass doors, looking up and down the street. Shirley Temple was circling the block. “Don’t be here talking to me. Go with Victor and Gyuri.” The man who sloped up to the glass door of the cafe was a scrawny, sketchy, twitchy-looking guy in his sixties, with a long narrow face and long freak hair past his shoulders and a peaked denim cap straight from Soul Train 1973. He stood there with his ring of keys and looked past Victor to me and Gyuri and seemed undecided whether to let us in. His close-set eyes, his brushy gray eyebrows and his puffy gray moustache gave him the look of a suspicious old schnauzer dog. Then another guy appeared, much much younger and much much bigger, half a head taller even than Gyuri, Malaysian or Indonesian with a face tattoo and eyepopping diamonds in his ears and a black topknot on the crown of his head that made him look like one of the harpooners from Moby Dick, if one of the harpooners from Moby Dick had happened to be wearing velvet track pants and a peach satin baseball jacket.

The old tweaker was making a call on his mobile. He waited, his eyes cagily on us the whole while. Then he made another call and turned his back and walked away into the depths of the lunchcafe, talking, palm pressed to cheek and ear in the manner of a hysterical housewife while the Indonesian stood in the glass door and watched us, unnaturally still. There was a brief exchange and then the old tweaker returned and with wrinkled brow and seeming reluctance began fumbling with the key ring, turning the key in the lock. The minute we were in he began yammering to Victor Cherry and throwing his arms about, while the Indonesian strolled over and leaned against the wall with his arms folded, listening. Some disturbance, definitely. Discomfort. What language were they speaking? Romanian? Czech? What it was about I had not a clue but Victor Cherry seemed cold and annoyed while the old gray-head tweaker grew more and more agitated—angry? no: irritable, frustrated, wheedling even, a whine climbing in his voice, and all the time the Indonesian kept his eyes on us with the unsettling stillness of an anaconda. I stood about ten feet away and— despite Gyuri, with moneybag, pressing in on me much too close—put on a self-consciously blank expression and pretended to examine the signs and slogans on the wall: Greenpeace, Fur-Free Zone, Vegan Friendly, Protected by Angels! Having bought enough drugs in enough dodgy situations (cockroach apartments in Spanish Harlem, piss-smelling stairwells in the St. Nicholas projects), I knew enough not to be interested, since—in my experience anyway—transactions of this nature were mostly the same. You acted relaxed and disengaged, didn’t talk unless you had to and spoke in a monotone when you did, and—as soon as you got what you came for—left. “Protected by angels, my ass,” said Boris, in my ear, having sidled up noiselessly on my other side. I said nothing. Even all these years later, it was all too easy for us to fall into the habit of whispering with our heads together like in Spirsetskaya’s class, which seemed like not a good dynamic in the situation. “We are on time,” said Boris. “But one of their men has not shown. That is why Grateful Dead here is so jumpy. They want us to wait till he comes. It is their own fault for changing the meeting place so often.” “What’s going on over there?” “Let Vitya handle it,” he said, poking his shoe at a desiccated furball on the floor—dead mouse? I thought, with a start, before realizing it was a chewed-up cat toy, one of several strewn across the floor beside a clumped and piss-darkened cat tray which lay half-hidden, turds and all, at the base of a table for four. I was wondering how a dirty cat tray placed where diners were likely to step in it was possibly convenient in terms of food-service logistics (not to mention attractive, or healthful, or even legal) when I realized the talking had stopped and the two of them had turned to Gyuri and me—Victor Cherry, the old tweaker with a wary expectant look, stepping forward, his eyes darting from me to the bag in Gyuri’s hand. Obligingly Gyuri stepped forward, opened it, set it down with a servile bow of his head, and stepped away for the old guy to look at it. The old guy peered in, nearsightedly; his nose wrinkled. With some peevish exclamation he looked up at Cherry, who remained impassive. Another obscure exchange ensued. The grayhair seemed discontented. Then he closed the bag and stood up and looked at me, eyes darting. “Farruco,” I said nervously, having forgotten my last name and hoping I would not be required to produce it. Cherry gave me a look: the papers.

“Right, right,” I said, reaching in the top inside pocket of my jacket for the bank draft and the deposit slip—unfolding them, in what I hoped was a casual way, checking them out before I handed them over— Frantisek. But just as I was extending my hand—bam, it happened like a gust of wind that blows through the house and slams a door loudly in a direction where you aren’t expecting it—Victor Cherry stepped fast behind the grayhair and whacked him on the back of the head with the pistol butt so hard his cap flew off and his knees buckled and down he went with a grunt. The Indonesian, still in his wall-slouch, seemed as startled by this as I was: he stiffened, our eyes connected in a sharp what the fuck? jolt that was almost like a glance between friends, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t moving away from the wall until I looked behind me and saw to my horror that Boris and Gyuri both had guns on him: Boris neatly resting the butt of the pistol in the cup of his left palm and Gyuri, one-handed, with the bag of money, backing out the front door. Disconnected flash, someone flitting from the kitchen in back: youngish Asian woman—no, a boy; white skin, blank frightened eyes sweeping the room, Ikat print scarf, long hair flying, just as quickly gone. “Someone’s in back,” I said rapidly, looking around, every direction, room wheeling around me like a carnival ride and heart beating so wildly I couldn’t make the words come out quite right, I wasn’t sure if anyone heard me say it —or if Cherry heard, at any rate, since he was hauling the grayhair up by the back of his jeans jacket, catching him in a chokehold, pistol at his temple, screaming at him in whatever Eastern-European tongue and jostling him to the rear as the Indonesian un-slouched himself from the wall, gracefully and carefully, and looked at Boris and me for what seemed like a long time. “You cunts are going to be sorry for this,” he said quietly. “Hands, hands,” said Boris cordially. “Where I can see them.” “I don’t got a weapon.” “Right there anyway.” “Right you are,” said the Indonesian, just as cordially. He looked me up and down with his hands in the air—memorizing my face, I realized with a chill, image straight to data file—and then he looked at Boris. “I know who you are,” he said. Submarine glow of the fruit juice cooler. I could hear my own breath going in and out, in and out. Clang of metal in the kitchen. Indistinct cries. “Down, if you please,” said Boris, nodding at the floor. Obligingly the Indonesian got to his knees and—very slowly—stretched himself full length. But he didn’t seem rattled or afraid. “I know you,” he said again, voice slightly muffled. Fast darting movement in the corner of my eye, so fast I started: a cat, devil black, like a living shadow, darkness flying to darkness. “And who am I then?” “Borya-from-Antwerp, innit?” It wasn’t true that he didn’t have a weapon; even I could see it bulging at his armpit. “Borya the Polack? Giggleweed Borya? Horst’s mate?” “And so if I am?” said Boris genially.

The man was silent. Boris, tossing the hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head, made a derisive noise and seemed about to say something sarcastic but just then Victor Cherry came out of the back, alone, pulling what looked like a set of flexcuffs out of his pocket—and my heart skipped to see, under his arm, a package of the correct size and thickness, wrapped in white felt and tied with baker’s twine. He dropped a knee in the Indonesian’s back and began to fumble with the cuffs at his wrists. “Get out,” said Boris to me, and then, again—my muscles had locked up and hardened; he gave me a little push—“Go! get in the car.” Blankly I looked around—I couldn’t see the door, there wasn’t a door— and then there it was and I scrambled out so fast I slipped and nearly fell on a cat toy, out to the Range Rover puffing at the curb. Gyuri was keeping watch out front, on the street, in the light drizzle which had just begun to fall—“In, in,” he hissed, sliding into the back seat and waving me to come in after him, just as Boris and Victor Cherry burst out of the restaurant and hopped in too and off we drove, at a sedate and anticlimactic speed.

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flameontheotherside · 4 years ago

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To Love Yourself = To Love Your TF

If your TF shares the same soul as you as like a spiritual twin in the womb of time and space or God. Obviously by that logic when you love and respect yourself, you are doing so to your TF. Having one in spirit or not living on earth, our roles are a little more defined. I'm assuming we all know who plays what. I'm Devine masculine and Erik is Devine Feminine. This has nothing to do with your gender on earth (just because your female now doesn't make you Devine Feminine every single time) obviously because I'm female and I like being female minus the emotional baggage and periods. I feel comfortable in my body unless I'm in a dress. I might look good but I feel awkward. I don't wear my emotions on my sleeleve and I curse a lot.

Regardless of that stuff, I learned that no matter where you are in your journey, to love yourself is to love your tf and vise versa. Also we are never apart. There so many ways you can be connected. For example I'm sure Erik watch Supernatural. I never seen it before early in 2009. But I had a deja vu or at least I thought so. I was also stoned for the first time but I get deja vu anyway. I probably swore I've seen the show because Erik has and that kind of leaked into my subconscious. I could be wrong, I could be right. It doesn't matter. Its just a probability.

So technically if someone were to tell you to go fuck yourself say:

Right on it! 😋👌

Give yourself a hug. Pat yourself on the back or not on the back. Lmao 🤣.

But seriously. You have to love yourself, respect yourself, care for yourself, stick up for yourself, be the best version of yourself without sacrificing your image. People notice when you're fake. Especially when your fake.

So don't go inventing some new identity. It doesn't work. I used to think this was the right thing to do after every relationship. It never works out. People will always see past your fakeness so be true to yourself. If you feel you have to change who you are, that's not real love. I did it for survival. I chose guys based on whether they could take care of me. I didn't want to be homeless and I didn't want to look like a loser. All of my friends started getting married. I wasn't in it for love. I was trying to keep appearances.

In all honesty since Erik died in 2009, I really gave up.

2 years after I wrote the letter on Erik's birthday. That unexplainable sense that "it" whatever it was, was over. Finished. It wasn't until I met Erik that he convinced that my life didn't have to be over or all about survival. Granted that no one will ever be like your TF but it doesn't mean I have to be alone for the rest of my life. Rick does annoy me but he's intelligent, funny and goes out of his way to not be an asshole. Plus he's also intuitive so I don't feel judged when I talk about Erik. There are other things but its just details.

In the years before Erik's death, it was different.. I really did love.. Maybe too much.. only 2 old exs now still hurt. Of course they were long distanced. I used local relationships just to waste my time consciously and subconsciously. You know, fuck buddies and the occasional loser. Car sex is bullshit. Its the seventh circle of hell especially in South Florida. Forget it. Fucking sucks. Nothing worse. Dont do it lol 😆 😂.

Its just after his death I've never felt the same.

Except for Rick but idk its still not the same...10 years ago I couldn't tolerate him. Now I can but if there was any kind of advice about "attracting" or being close to your twin flame is simply to love yourself. Obviously it took me meeting mine to do this because he's dead. Others in my position I think would agree. Things are slightly different and more challenging.

😘💕 Love yall, good night!

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wackygoofball · 5 years ago

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Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - The Host AU

Jaime knows his days are counted when he is brought into one of those white-tiled rooms at the enemy’s HQ.

The Souls be damned.

At least the others escaped, he saw to that when the Souls stopped them on a mission. Tyrion and Davos will have taken Arya, Pod and the rest back to the hideout by now, so at the very least the rebellion can continue without him.

While not surprised, Jaime is still less than pleased to meet Stannis Baratheon, one of those bastards who decided to side with this alien race that invaded Planetos and takes over people’s bodies as they please to assume leadership over the world as they know it. Stannis let a Soul willingly take over, a Soul known as Melisandre, or as the rebellion calls her, “the boss bitch”. While Melisandre leaves him more or less in control over his actions, Stannis is just like them, and that means to Jaime that he has to go like every other bloody Soul.

Though sadly, that will soon include himself, as Stannis informs him. They will make him a Host as well. Jaime fights against the procedure as best as he can – because sure as hell will he go down fighting – but as he finds the Soul they brought in manifest itself inside him, he suddenly hears a none too kindly voice cursing him to stop the folly.

Listen. If you let me in, I will get you out of here, the voice tells him. But of course, Jaime doesn’t buy into that cheap kind of trick.

Because that’s some bullshit, lady.

You must understand this one thing: They will have a Soul inhabit your body no matter what you do. The only choice you can currently make is to let me in or wait for someone who does not ask first. I understand that you have no reason to trust me. And I don’t ask you to. I am asking for a truce.

How would I have a truce with some alien I don’t even know?

The name is Brienne and I am trying to help you – but all of that will be over soon if you don’t do anything. You can’t withstand much longer.

I am strong enough.

Right now you are not. I can ensure that you will remain conscious, just inside your own head, but I have to take over or they will realize the ruse. That’s all I have to offer, but I can promise you that I will bring you back home, even if it kills me.

Well, funny enough that will kill me as well, so I don’t fancy that alternative much.

Jaime, well aware that he is out of alternatives, lets “Brienne” take control, which puts him into the “backseat” of his own mind while Brienne calls the shots, telling a very pleased Melisandre and Stannis that she completed the mission and awaits new instructions.

“I am glad to see that you finally prove to be the god soldier you are supposed to be, Brienne, one who knows her place.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Though actually, not so much. Brienne stands true to her word and flees from the HQ the first opportunity she gets. And contrary to what Jaime feared, his mind remains alive, as Brienne did not seek full control over his mind and body, even though he will make sure to use any opportunity to be an ass about it.

And so, the long walk back home begins. In the middle of the Dornish desert, the rebellion built an underground haven to live and plan future strikes against the Souls taking over.

Though I still don’t understand why you are helping us.

Haven’t you heard? I am more of a rebel myself.

How comes?

Disagreements with the management.

Just that? Really?

I wasn’t the only one. We rebelled against Melisandre. She betrayed all ideals us Wanderers used to stand for.

Wanderers?

That was what we were before she made us nothing but Souls. We wandered across galaxies and tried to save life as we knew it.

By playing puppet master with people?

By learning what it takes to be human.

Jaime cautions Brienne that she won’t have an easy welcome, granted that they even make it to the desert without being caught – or nature killing them before they reach the hideout. He tells her that they have better chances by not telling the rest of the team that he is still in there but instead inform them that she took a hold of his body and that his consciousness supposedly faded in the process but that she wants to join their side and help them take down the HQ. As things currently stand, Jaime can’t take possession of his own body again, and until he can – which is a big what if – they’d do best not to upset the others any more than they will be anyway.

After all, Souls are not to be trusted.

On the verge of dehydration, the two reach the hideout. Though there is, as expected, no warm welcome, even less so when Arya decides to knock them in the back of the head when she catches the silver circle in Jaime’s eyes, which is a sure sign that a Soul took possession of a Host. Davos tells her to leave him and bring him to the hideout instead. As expected, Brienne is the hideout’s most wanted, and not in a good way.

Arya is perhaps most against them. As Jaime explains to Brienne, the reason why she has even more misgiving for the Souls than most others is that they killed nearly all of her family, safe for her “stupid sister” who joined Stannis for all they know.

As the two try to make a plan for how to go about their new situation, Brienne makes a point that they won’t ever trust her intentions to actually start a revolution amongst her own kind if she doesn’t do anything to prove her loyalty to their cause. Jaime is at a loss, but Brienne eventually comes to the conclusion that Sansa may be the key. She saw Sansa at the HQ and hopes that maybe they can convince her to come back with them. She may have important intel and it would help them to get Arya onboard.

Maybe.

You don’t know how to inspire confidence, you know?

I am just not fond of lying.

Which explains why you are so piss-poor at it.

While the mission proves more than dangerous, they eventually succeed in bringing Sansa Stark back home. And along the way, the two have to realize that they fight much better together than apart, even though it demands of Jaime to adapt his ways of fighting and support rather than lead.

Arya actually starts to trust Brienne thereafter, if cautiously so, even though things are tensed between the sisters even after the reunion. And while those two work through their issues, Jaime demands some hard truths from Brienne at last, as she tends to evade questions about who she truly is and what this is all about. In the end, Brienne has to give in.

We were very much like you. A humanoid race from a faraway planet, trying its best to live our lives.

Wait, you had an actual body before? You weren’t always those white, glowing parasites?!

While I tend to disagree with the description, yes, we weren’t always like that.

Then why did you all decide it was time for a makeover?

Not all of us took on this shape. We were selected few. The Wanderer Program was founded to save our world from extinction. Fewer and fewer children were born in every generation until we reached the breaking point. Our race grew sterile, if you will. And life as we knew it was on the verge of destruction. The Wanderers were meant to travel to faraway galaxies and find species like us, analyze their physiologies and social interactions and find out how they manage to battle global sterility. For such travel, we had to give up our bodies. They couldn’t possibly survive such a long trip across worlds. We wanted to find life again. Or so we thought… because some of us had a different idea. They wanted power. They wanted to exploit life. And they realized that the Wanderer Program, which succeeded to alter DNA in such a way that the soul could transcend the body, were the means of gaining control.

Power is a bitch.

I believed in the program, in what we did. Until I saw what they did to Renly.

Renly Baratheon?

Yes, he was my Host before we two… teamed up involuntarily.

To put it mildly. What of Renly, then?

He was no part of the rebellion, you may know. Yet, he was against Stannis and his practices. Through Renly, I learned more and more about what was behind the program I once joined in an effort to preserve life, not destroy it. Other Souls of the program formed a group, but one of them reported us… and as a result, the Hosts were all brutally murdered while we were still connected.

So you… witnessed Renly’s death as your own.

Yes. He died because of me. And after that, they put me in detention, telling me that I’d only ever get out if I learned my place. Until the day I met you. And that changed everything.

So what’s the goal for you now? Once we take on the HQ? What’s the next step?

Go back home and fix our problems. Pick up with where we left off with our mission. I found such goodness in people. I saw human compassion, friendship, love. And that is what I’d want to take home, even if I failed to find a solution to my race’s plight.

You are definitely the strangest Soul I ever met.

And you are the strangest Host I ever met.

Perhaps a truce is possible after all.

Only time will show.

And while Jaime and Brienne continue to bond, crisis is underway when Brienne learns of Tyrion’s “experiments” to separate Host and Soul, killing both in the process. Brienne is absolutely mortified, as Jaime knew about this, but didn’t ever tell her.

Though they soon have to leave that aside as well as the rebellion’s next strike is moving forward fast. Along the way, they learn some shocking news that may transform the very nature of their mission to a full-fledged rescue mission of a kind no one ever thought would happen as Souls have to fight for Hosts and Hosts for Souls.

Brienne and Tyrion form a fragile peace, though she leaves Tyrion with a baffling message before she heads out:

“I can help you complete your research, but only to my conditions. Once it’s all done.”

Though only time will show if she can reveal that information to him and if, indeed, the soul can transcend the body.

Or rather, if love can.

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #moodboard #aesthetic #got moodboard #got aesthetic #wacky tries gimp #I only later found out what I found weird about the movie #coz the Twilight Lady wrote the book it was based on #which explains all that I found shitty about the movie #though the premise itself was intriguing #and at the very least #it featured no sparkly vampires or creepy ass CGI babies from the underworld

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