#about to tear myself to shreds because it's the will comeback

[barredindawn]

i didn't realize how much happened in 2x07

also reading red dragon earlier so it was miriam's scenes that had led will to knowing who hannibal is (kind of cool), still i feel bad for miriam

will being out of BSHCI all i could do was laugh because of his words:

"Why did Hannibal not just kill you?"

"Because he wants to be my friend."

+ will paired with an awkward smile while chilton was not very impressed

"Are you going to try to hurt Hannibal again? Is he safe?" "From me, or for you?"

THE CHANGE IN WILL'S FACE IN THIS IS DEVASTATING but i was still gagged when i heard his reply

"You were innocent and no one saw it." "No, I'm not innocent. You saw to that."

fridge scene ,,, WHEW idk what to say about how hannibal's expressions here but i liked it

"I have to deal with you. And my feelings about you. I think it's best if I do that directly."

AND THEN HE RESUMES THERAPY, WHEN I WATCHED THIS THE FIRST TIME??? I WAS SO CONFUSED (now i really had to pause a few times because he looked so good and maybe MAYBE he changed his aftershave because hannibal didn't like the last one lmao)

[skyrigel]

“The Great War : Part 2”

Pairing: Benjicot “Davos” blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Part 1 of “The great war”

Part 3 of “The great war”

Benji masterlist

“ Benji makes a move, Aeron demands his sister back, you learn the truth—prehaps you would survive the great war after all ”

~ fluff, food feeding, flirty Benji, ‘Darling’ is basically his love language, mention of abduction, bashing Aeron Bracken ( loml)

Wc: 2k

There will be one more part consisting: wedding, smut and jealousy, a happily ever after. Join the taglist<3 xoxo

Request for Aemond, Jace and Aegon are open <3

Two days, you sighed, two days living on false hopes and whispered prayers, the smell of smoke still fresh on your skin.

Bright light shimmering inside and took refuge in your darkness as the flap opened, you looked up from your blood soaked gown and feral watery eyes, sore from tears and hopes.

“ Won't you eat anything darling? ” Benji smiled, despite his words carrying a tone of disappointment, his gaze lingering off the untouched food as he reached you.

Sitting down next to you, his back pressed against your cot, floor cold under your bodies.

“ C'mon, you will die if you won't eat.” His fingers brushed your jaw and you pulled back, turning your face to the outside chatter.

“ Wouldn't that be better ? ” you turned to him, He only beamed more, always flattered to have your attention.

“ No.” He said, bringing the plate towards you, “ Because your brother wouldn't like that and me ? I would be wrecked without you sweetheart.”

“ My brother ? ” you perked up, Benji shredded the loaf, dipping it in the cherry crushed jam.

“ Yes, your brother.” Benji cocked his head, bringing the loaf to your mouth, “open” he mouthed, you hesitated but eventually obliged.

“ When will he come ? ” you asked instantly, feeling your throat dry from days refusing food and water.

“ Bracken's were seen on the east fronts, if everything —” He brought another bite to you, “ — plays out good then he would be here by tommorow.”

“ Oh.” Your lips brushed his finger, Benjy's mouth twitched, “ I can eat by myself.” you said hurriedly, avoiding his eyes that could easily devour you.

“ I know darling.” He said calmly, Ben looked different in this light, his face clear from blood and gore, eyes not blinded by war and chaos but just himself, he was feral, you knew it, knew damn well all his bloodiness but this Benji who visited you everytime in these past two days, his skin clear, his youth shining, his words sweet, his tactics new to feed you, it felt like the very first time. You felt more dirty in the clothes he abducted you, refusing to bathe or change or eat, fingers dirty under your nails. It was a relief he was feeding you.

“ Then let me.” You didn't open your mouth when he brought the sweet loaf to you, his eyes softening as he shaked his head.

“ You are in my care, so you don't get to fret.” He pushed his thumb on your mouth, parting your lips in a gasp, too stunned to form any sentences, let alone for a comeback, you ate.

“ No.” you said, when he started spreading cheese on another peice of bread, his fingers red with cherry jam, like blood.

“ Huh ? ” he looked up, placing tomatoes on the loaf along with cooked meat.

“ Not hungry.” you looked away, not that you weren't, but you hated how your heart raced everytime he was near, hated how you would do anything if he said it the right way, hated how stupid he made you feel.

He dismissed as your stomach churned, embarassing you but he made no note of it, busy in making a flower with his toppings.

“ I thought about asking for your hand in marriage, the first time we met.”

“ We never met. You saw me and I saw you.” you snapped at him, Benji chuckled as he bit his lower lip, you looked away.

“ I thought you didn't remember making eyes at me.”

“ I was just looking ! ” your face grew warm, your heart lept inside your ribs, you wondered if he could hear it.

And sometimes you thought he did, Benji could breathe your hunger, sense your desires and it left you spiralling — did he know ?

“ ofcourse you were just looking, darling.” He was finished decorating the loaf like it wasn't going to be eaten but preserved through the centuries.

“ Stop calling me darling.”

“ Why ? Don't tell me you don't like it.”

“ I don't like it.” you glared at him, he waved you off, pouring wine in two goblets.

“ Then don't blush like that.” He sucked at his cherry smeared fingers, his mouth was warm and pink, soft like a breeze, how soft and sweet...so soft on your lips—fuckity fuck.

You flushed, feeling heat shoot up your spine, slowly crawling it's way to your face.

You grabbed the goblet, downed it one swig, ‘it's the wine’ you would jab at him if he pointed the crimson glow of your skin.

But he never did, Benji watched with his smug face, as your throat bobbled down the whole drink in one go, smiling to himself.

“ It would've been nice if your brother wasn't an idiot.”

“ Say that again.” You frowned at him, ready to bang his head with the decorated loaf if you had to, how dare he ?

“ No offence darling.” He shifted closer to you, running a hand through his hair, you winced at his sticky fingers but it was Benji, he would look good doing anything, stupid or immoral, anything and you shuddered at the feeling he tingled inside you. Stop !

“ but your brother ruined everything, first he declared for the cun—unworthy Aegon and then when I tried to make peace—”

“ oh, the bloodshed ? ” You glanced at him and he looked hurt for a moment before he recovered with a widened shit eating grin of his, streching from ear to ear.

“ It was your Brother and his plan.”

“ No.”

“ Well you have got no reason to believe me and you shouldn't until I prove myself to you, House Bracken and house Blackwood never got along and on that table when I saw you, I saw hope, I didn't mind if Aeron asked for lands or rivers or people or glory as long as he would bless us but...” You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his face crinkling,he wasn't crying but it was there, a proof that he could, “...He and his gitty lords betrayed my trust, no honour, no word keeping—”

“ Stop, please stop.” You brought your knees to your chest, feeling your insides hollow as he spoke and spoke, making you wonder whose sword it was that swinged first that day, his or Aeron's, which man died first, his or your own, because every word he said felt true to his soul and Benji did many things to you, kidnapped you, threatened you, played his silly little games with you but all and all, he never lied, not even to feed you, not even to gain your trust.

You were so doomed.

“ You should rest, darling.”

“ Go away.” You buried your face in the dip of your knees.

“ Right.” He closed his mouth, getting up from the floor, “ Aeron will come for you and this time we could actually talk about peace.”

He added sincerely, before smoothening your hair as you refused to look at him, feeling everything you believed crumble, going upside down.

“ Eat that when you're hungry.” and with that he left.

~~~

Benji was true to his word, By afternoon two maids came in, holding a dress, it was just a simple cotton gown with red flowers embroided and despite almost three days of refusing to do anything that was told,

You finally gave in, feeling your body melt in the hot water as soft hands brushed your back, combing through your hair.

Blood, smoke and many other things rubbed off your skin, you were finally clean.

Your eyes widened, heart bloomed as two men in cloak escorted you in front of a tent, biggest in the whole camp after where you were kept.

“ Go inside.” One said and you reasiled she was a woman, you weren't going to be told twice before you entered, it was lit only with candles. You squinted your eyes and before them stood your brother.

Aeron looked up, his eyes moistened as he saw you, joy knew no bounds as it filled inside you.

“ Sister.” He was already on his feet, circling the room as he ran and took you in his arms, picking you off the floor and swinging you midair.

“ you're okay ? ” you asked him, once he let you down and he nodded, bumping your nose, “ I should ask you that.” He said grimly, shooting a glare towards Benjicot, who was watching the whole reunion with a scowl on his face.

His scowl disappeared as you followed your brother's gaze to him, smiling brightly as he waved at you.

“ Now that we are all here,” Benjicot announced, and you were suddenly aware of many other unrecognisable faces in the room, all with pride and loyalty in their eyes, “let us discuss some very important matters that have continued to become a pain in our ass.” Benji looked at Aeron, who bristled away, taking your hand as he went to sit opposite from Benji on the council table amongst his important men.

“ Not there.” Benji said sweetly to you, immediately the chair next to him was pulled, “ Little dove, here.”

You blinked, glancing at your brother whose face was clamped in a bitter line.

Remembering your place and territory, you walked to his side, sitting next to him.

“ Did you sleep well last night, darling ? ” He leaned back as wine was poured to each lord, some of them were eyeing Aeron and his men very suspiciously, some only smiled with smirks plastered to their hard faces.

You gave him one pointed look before turning back to your brother.

The council began with a very drunk man howling how House Bracken took everything from him, fluent in curses as he threw one after another before you groaned.

“ Take Lord Hawthorne away, he clearly needs rest.” Benjicot said, as two hands helped the said lord out, still telling Aeron how he could fuck himself.

“ Now that we are back again—”

“ I want my sister back.” Aeron made his point, slamming his fist, his hair falling down from his bun at the force.

“ very well.” Benji smiled, all the lords hummed or tutted, like they knew something only the Brackens didn't.

“ last time when we talked about any exchange, you stabbed me in the back.” you watched Aeron for any sign of denial, you were disappointed, shit, “ which is a metaphor, ofcourse, you talked about peace, killed my men, offered your sister and took her away from me.”

“ There was no betrothal.” Aeron said simply, avoiding your gaze. Benji's laugh was humourless, more threatening.

“ You promised and I am asking for that promise back.”

“ In no life I would let that happen.”

“ Then you will face consequences lad.” one man spoke, he was older, his skin slacked around his arms and nerves popped up blue.

“ Your brother is stupid.” Benji leaned and whispered to you, as the council crackled at the old man's words.

“ What are your terms ? ” You asked him instead, knowing Aeron's eyes on you.

Benji's mouth curved in a smirk, his nose almost brushing yours.

He looked towards your brother, to catch his eye and when he did, he became the man you met on that table years ago for the first time, chiseled jaw, mischievous eyes, beautiful and crazy.

“ Marry me.”

Something dropped and you wondered if it was your heart, but that was just Lord Fester who passed out with wine pouring out on his face, and ofcourse your heart too.

You might still survive the great war.

[chriscolfernews]

I’m not sure anyone on Earth could give Naya Rivera the tribute she deserves.

In fact, the process of losing her has been such a nightmare, I find myself wondering if Naya was even real or if she was just a dream all along. How could a human being be that talented, that hilarious and that beautiful at once? How could one person be responsible for so much joy and be the subject of so many wonderful memories?

When Naya sang, you could feel her soul resonating through your own. Her voice would break your heart in one chorus, only to rebuild it in the next. Watching her perform was like watching magic unfold before your eyes. Naya didn’t just sing a song. She brought it to life. And with every note, she exposed the old sage living inside her young body.

As an actress, Naya could tell a whole story with one expression. It didn’t matter how outrageous the plot was, she spoke with so much authenticity, she made you believe every word she said, and often, you’d forget she was acting at all. Her heroic and groundbreaking portrayal of Santana Lopez on “Glee” inspired millions of young people around the world, especially in the LGBTQIA community, and it will be treasured for generations to come.

Naya also had a superhuman ability to memorize scripts. With one glance, she would know all her lines and yours — which came in handy when you acted alongside her. Sometimes, I’d become so lost in Naya’s performance, I’d forget I was in the scene with her. Even when her character was tearing mine to shreds, I couldn’t help but respect how brilliantly she delivered the insults.

When someone is as talented as Naya, saying she was also one of the funniest and most quotable people that I’ve ever met sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s the absolute truth. Naya could defuse a bomb with a witty remark. Her comebacks and quips were legendary, and I used to follow her around set, jotting down everything she said into my phone.

On particularly rough days of filming, you might find her outside enjoying a cigarette in her bright red cheerleading uniform. She would raise an invisible glass and say, “To being role models!” or “City of dreams, huh?”

Whenever the “Glee” cast commiserated about the demanding shooting schedule, Naya would instantly cheer us up with a line like, “Gosh, this internship blows!” or “Guys, we know what we signed up for. The first person to guess the mole gets the cash.”

Even after an eighteen-hour day of singing and dancing, when mustering a smile felt impossible, Naya could make you laugh out loud. Once, during a heated exchange between an actor and a director, I’ll never forget her turning to me with a cheeky grin and asking, “Is this a bad time to tell someone the DVD player in my trailer isn’t working?”

As a friend, you could talk to her about anything. She was the cool older sister you went to for advice, to blow off steam, or to get the hottest take on the latest gossip. Just being in Naya’s presence made you feel protected and regardless of the situation, you knew she’d have your back. She was never afraid to stand up to authority, she always called out mistreatment where she saw it and she always told you the truth — even when it was hard to hear.

For as long as I’ve known Naya, the thing she wanted most in life was to be a mother. She spent hours telling us what she was going to name her kids, how she was going to dress them and all the free babysitting she’d bamboozle out of us. When her son Josey was born in 2015, it was like a missing piece of Naya had finally arrived. Their connection was magnetic, their affection was radiant and I’ve never seen a person look happier than when Naya gushed over her little boy.

Being a mom was perhaps Naya’s greatest talent of all, and as her final moments proved, Naya was an extraordinary mother until the very end.

Naya leaves behind a void that only Naya herself could fill. To have a friend like her, even briefly, is to be blessed beyond belief. She is a shining example of the impact a person can have when one lives fearlessly. Her loss is a tragic reminder to celebrate every moment we possibly can with the people we love because the only thing we know for certain about life is how fragile it can be.

To quote Naya herself, “No matter the year, circumstance, or strife, everyday you’re alive is a blessing. make the most of today and every day you are given. Tomorrow is not promised.”

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Thirty-Eight

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum​

A/N: Trigger warnings for eating disorders and referenced drug overdose from previous chapter

Ash climbed out of his car, tired and sore while he once again found his way up to Amara's apartment. The door was still not there, and he had the feeling she wasn't going to bother replacing it any time soon, either.

Amara was mechanically cleaning up the ashes left of her counter and food. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded while he watched her for a bit. "We talked to Lev," he said, by way of greeting.

She looked up at him, seeming upset. "Did he see the whole thing?"

"Which whole thing?" he asked. "The argument or Nik overdosing on demonic drugs?"

"Nik. If Lev had been here, I would have felt him. That, and you would have said something. You're not one to keep your opinions to yourself. If you were you wouldn't be in my apartment right now."

"You already know my opinions," Ash said, tiredly. "And I'm not going to keep talking about them at you when you listen about as well as a box of rocks. I just figured I'd let you know you're darling selfless cousin asked a nineteen year old to stay dead. If I hadn't managed to fix it, he probably would have stayed dead. Lev had- he didn't think I'd save Nik. Since I couldn't save him."

Amara might have had a snippy comeback, but she already looked as tired as he felt, and when he brought up what Lev had done, her mouth snapped shut. "He what?" She asked, setting the broom aside. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, Amara," Ash said, palming his eyes. "Why does anyone do anything? You said you wanted him to be selfish, but I'm guessing you didn't think it would be like this. I can deal with a lot of shit, but all of this is draining the damned life out of me." He shoved his sleeves up, and showed her his bruise ridden arms. "Literally."

Amara's gaze drifted to his arms, and her face tightened. For the longest moment she was quiet. Eventually, she said in a low voice, "Will bringing him back kill you?" She asked. "Don't fuck with me Ash. Be honest."

Ash sighed irritably, forcing his sleeves back down his arms. "You make it sound like I actually know the answer. All I fucking know is that I feel like I swallowed a shit ton of acid and like my insides are being shredded apart. But I'm not. Dying. I don't think."

With a sigh, Amara grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the couch. "Listen," she said, shoving him down onto the lumpy surface whether he liked it or not, "I'm- I'm not going to promise that I'm gonna stop. But. I need to think on this. Sleep on it, if I'm being honest. I need to talk to Cyrus. I know he has some restrictions or stipulations or something, I don't fucking know. And I need to talk to Cameron. And Nik. This is- it's not what I expected from Lev."

Oh, well I could have seen it coming, Ash thought bitterly.

Ash dropped his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes. "Do whatever you want," Ash said, tiredly. "It's not like I can stop you short of killing you. And even I won't do that. Even if you make it tempting sometimes," he muttered. "Just. Remember your actions will have consequences too, Mar. Succeed or don't, you've already made your bed."

"I know. I haven't forgotten. I'll deal with it." She dropped her head on his shoulder, and then sighed loudly. "Sometimes I wonder why the fuck I'm still friends with you." The words were obviously meant to be teasing but they fell very flat.

"Mm. Sometimes I wonder that too," he said. "Unfortunately we're stuck with each other."

"Yikes," Amara replied dryly. "At least it sucks for you too." She waited a bit, and then, "If you want to take a nap, I've got an open bed now. Renee's graduation present from Raziel was her own apartment. That's where she and Cin are. Cin didn't want her grieving alone."

"Can't," Ash said. "Need to go check on Nik. And my mate," he added, too tired for it to be pointed. "Besides I'm not too sure that it'll even work for me to sleep. My sleep's been nearly nonexistent for days. And it's not like I can get black out drunk to help. Either."

"I mean, I could see if my witch could whip a spell for you, but- wait, isn't you mate a witch, too?" she asked.

"Mm. And your witch wonders why I know so much about witches. It's not like I just pulled random facts out of my ass," he said. "She said she couldn't do anything, anyway. Unless I were to just yank all my magic."

"For better or for worse, this will be over soon either way," She said quietly. "Like I said, I need to talk to Cameron. And Nik."

"Carpool?"

---

When Cameron had gotten Nik back to sleep, and with sentries both outside and inside the godsdamned room, Cameron got into his car and drove to the outskirts of demonic territory where Cyrus and Sorin lived.

He had the car parked and was knocking on the door until Sorin bothered to answer it. "Is something wrong?" he said, warily.

"Something like that," Cameron replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I need to speak with your mate. Wake him up."

Sorin grumbled under his breath but turned around to do it. "Go ahead," he muttered. "Make yourself at home."

Cameron made his way to the living area, but didn't sit, instead he looked around carefully, at everything, and waited. When they finally arrived, Cameron said, "I need to speak with Lev. I'll pay whatever you wish."

Cyrus looked confused. "You don't have to pay me anything."

"Oh I really do," Cameron said. He wasn't going to end up in someone else's debt. "What do you want?"

Cyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Help fuel the spell so I have enough magic left when the time comes to bring him back."

"Hm. Nothing monetary?"

Cyrus looked around. "Does it look like we're struggling?"

"Does it look like I care?"

"I don't need or want your money. What I want is for you to stop wasting my time. I'm more than happy to help. I've given you my price, take it or leave it."

"Alright," Cameron said, making note of that for later. "Take what you need from me. Let's get this over with because I need to get back as soon as possible." Before Nik decided to do something stupid again.

Cyrus led the way back to his study wordlessly. The desk was messy, even if the bookshelves were perfectly organized. He gave a lingering look to the cork board with scribbles on it, notes for spells, before turning back to Cyrus setting up candles. "Have you done this before?" he asked, mildly.

Cyrus looked up from his spot. "Once or twice, for people who needed closure."

"Hm. Then why didn't you offer it instead of necromancy to Amara?" he asked, mostly curious.

"Mostly because I struck a deal for whatever spell she wanted, and I won't back out of the spell she chose, but also because she's not the type to get closure from conversation. If it hadn't been me, it'd be another witch she'd conned into this. At least I have faith in my abilities and studies to know I have the best chance of getting it right."

He almost considered thinking about something like this for Nik, to just get him through this self destructive cycle he seemed to be on, but something told him that it wouldn't work anyway. He and Amara were too annoyingly similar. "Fair enough," he said. "What do you need from me? Is it blood?"

"No, but I do need to hold your hand."

I'd rather you have the blood, Cameron thought, annoyed.

"Fine."

When Cyrus settled on the floor, he motioned to the spot next to him. Cameron frowned down at the hardwood floor. At least it was a clean hardwood floor. Sighing, Cameron sat down next to him and offered his hand. "Take what you need."

"Let me know if I take too much," Cyrus said, taking his hand.

Cameron didn't bother replying and listened to Cyrus start the spell. Lev showed up seconds later, startled. "Cameron?"

"Levant," Cameron said, mildly.

In a small, guilty voice, Lev said, "They told you?"

"Nik told me enough," he said. "Why don't you fill in the gaps for me. See if he missed something." He knew Nik far too well to know when Nik was keeping something from him, and he was going to get it straight from the horse's mouth if he had to.

Even if he did look guilty about his actions, he managed to not look away. It still didn't sway Cameron, however. "I told him it would be better if we were both dead."

So not just one, or two, but three omegas he had failed.

Cyrus' only reaction had been the sharp tightening of his hold in Cameron's hand.

"Why would you do that if you were going to be brought back," he said, evenly. "Amara has been moving heaven and hell for you."

"I thought it would be easier on both of us," Lev said. "He's been so sad, lately. Amara wouldn't have had to break the laws of nature for me. I wasn't really thinking. I just thought we could wait for you, if you ever did die,."

Ah. So that was what Nik had been keeping from him. "And if I didn't die?" Cameron asked. "What about then?"

"I don't know," Lev said. "I wasn't really thinking it through. I guess I assumed we would just watch over you, like I had been for the last couple of months." He paused for a few moments, and when Cameron didn't say anything, Lev said, "I was being selfish."

"I suppose," Cameron said. "It's not like I'm unaccustomed to being by myself. Five hundred years. What's another five hundred, right?" His voice hadn't risen an inch. He wasn't quite sure what to even say, when any emotion he had on the matter was irrelevant. It was about Nik, not him.

"Cameron, no," Lev said. "That's not right, and that's not okay. Nik needs you, and you need him. You shouldn't have to be alone. I had no right to try to take Nik from you."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't," Lev said, calmly enough Cameron lifted a brow.

"No tears this time?"

Lev gave him a tired smile. "Ghosts can't cry. It's been awful."

"Oh, I'm sure," Cameron said. "I can't imagine how taxing that must be. Did you say anything else to Nik?"

Lev shook his head. "Just that I missed him, and I was trying to get you to eat."

Cameron dismissed the second half of that sentence. "There anything else I should know?" he asked, mildly.

"Destris has been messing with Nik," Lev said.

"How so?" Cameron said, sharply.

"He tried using your face, and I think a few others. That's when Nik used the drugs."

Cameron sighed internally. He was going to have to figure out what dealer was idiotic enough to sell his omega drugs. He'd rip their spinal cord out. However, he might have to move Nik to Bay's house if Destris decided he wasn't done with Cameron.

"Say you're brought back," Cameron said. "What do you think is going to happen? You tried to keep my omega dead, Lev."

Lev looked startled at that. "I don't know," he said, in a small voice. "I guess I assumed you'd both still want me."

"Hm." Cameron hummed, mostly to himself.

When Cameron didn't give him a response, Lev said, "It's okay if you don't. I fucked up, bad."

"Maybe you should figure out a way to fix it, then," Cameron said. "I'm sure if you asked Nik, he would tell you just how little words mean to me. Nik already has his promise if he even tries to think about doing something like this again. Consider this your promise, too."

"I don't know how I'm going to fix this," Lev said. "But I'm not going to be hanging around the house anymore."

"Alright," Cameron said.

"I was trying to help, but I think I made things worse."

"Anything else?" he asked, mildly.

"Do you have to go now?"

Even if Cameron didn't need to check on Nik, he could feel static in his head. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up the connection, anyways. "Yes."

"I miss you. Please take care of yourself."

"Stay out of trouble, and maybe I will."

When Lev only looked at him sadly, Cameron pulled his hand from Cyrus, and was annoyed to find that Lev was still there- that Cyrus didn't have to hold his hand this whole damn time. He could have been standing.

Cyrus looked at Lev. "I want to have a conversation with you later. You're not in trouble- with me. But we need to have a discussion."

Lev had only given Cyrus a nod, before the connection fizzled out.

Cameron got himself up to his feet, and straightened his shirt. "I'll wire you the money," he said, dismissively and turned around to leave.

"I'll just send them to angel charities," Cyrus said, after him. "And I'll put them in your name."

Cameron ignored him and left.

---

Nik looked pathetic. He barely seemed awake, so Amara just kicked off her shoes and climbed up beside him. "Hey, dickhead."

Nik didn't say anything. She could feel Ash watching them from the doorway.

"You too out of it or are you being a dick?"

Nik turned to face her with a grunt.

"I hear you went a little too hard on the drugs. What, I didn't want any, you had to take them all yourself?" She reached over, running her fingers through his hair to soften her teasing words.

Nik pressed his face against her palm. "Something like that."

"Well. Don't do it again. You look like shit."

He sighed. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you," Amara said, flopping onto her back. "Ash told me what happened."

Nik waited a few seconds. "I wanted to stay."

"Here or there?" Amara asked quietly.

After wiping his face, he said, "There."

"Are you kidding me." Amara rolled over. "You have no idea- I'm trying-"

"Amara," Ash said sharply from the doorway.

"Does this look like my joking face?"

"I'm bringing him back, Nikolas."

"That's not funny," he said.

"I'm not joking." Amara sat up, knowing if she looked over at Ash, he'd be glaring daggers. "Stop pulling thw stupid shit, okay? I'm trying to fix it. It'd be real worthless if you ended up just switching places."

Nik didn't say anything for a good long while, thinking over her words and watching her blankly. "'Fix it?' Mar, he's not your piece of shit motorcycle. You can't fix the dead. What if you break him even more?" His voice was smaller than he probably wanted.

"Stars, Nik. You saying you want me to stop? I stumbled across the most ethical witch on this side of hell. He wont do a damn thing unlesss he can promise Lev's not gonna be a fuckin zombie. And he won't do it unless Lev wants. I've got everyone fighting me on this, and I'm pretty sure Ash is gonna kill me when you and I are done talking, don't tell me you're going to tell me to not, too."

"I don't want anything," he said tiredly. "Just to stop thinking for a while."

"Too fucking bad," Amara snapped. "I'd love to stop too, and you know what, when we get Lev back you and I can go on the longest fucking weekend, but damn it, Nik. You're worrying everyone."

"Even you?" he asked, dryly. Nik doubled over coughing and grimaced. Ash immediately moved from the doorway and checked on him.

"You need to be sitting up," Ash said, moving to drag Nik into a sitting position. "Your ribs are still broken." Nik grimaced at him, but Ash gripped his chin and forced him to look up. "You going to be good?"

"Mm. Cam said I had no choice but to behave, so yes," Nik bit out.

Ash patted his face. "At least he's useful for something."

Amara watched them silently, tracking Nik's every move. Eventually she said, "Cameron knows I'm bringing him back."

Ash leaned over and popped her on the back of the head. "Do you never learn when to keep your big mouth shut?"

"I don't lie to Nik. He knows that." An underhanded blow, sure, but Amara felt like she'd earned it.

"That wasn't a lie," Ash countered.

"No, but I'm done not telling the truth. Only reason I didn't before was because Nik's an asshole, and then he was a bigger asshole, and I'm a petty bitch."

"Clearly," Ash deadpanned. "And apparently I'm playing nursemaid with both of you idiots."

"Will you both shut up," Nik grunted, hunched over to rub his temples.

Ash shoved him back with a palm to his forehead. "Did I stutter," he snapped. "You're going to make it worse. And I'm not going to heal you a second time for being a bigger idiot than you already are."

Amara settled next to Nik, tipping her head back. "Shits fucked," she said quietly. "And we're all sitting around bickering and puffing up like that helps anything."

---

Unsurprisingly Cameron found three idiots in his bedroom. He leaned against the bedroom door. "Hasn't stopped you before," Cameron said, dryly. "If you want to do something useful then get in the kitchen."

Nik looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and gold. Cameron held his gaze, with a quiet challenge to argue with him on it, but in the end Nik buckled and climbed off the bed. With a hiss, Nik staggered a moment before pushing past Cameron down the hall.

"Amara told him that you know about her idiotic plan."

"Don't care," Cameron said. "Either get in the kitchen for food or get out of my house."

Amara wisely took the former option without opening her mouth and followed after Nik. Ash stopped at the doorway, watching him unnervingly close. "Not that I care," he said, "But are you alright?"

"If you don't care, then why should I answer you?"

"Would you even if I did?" Ash shot back.

"Either get in the kitchen or get out. I don't have the time to deal with your bleeding heart." Ash's narrowed eyes had the desired effect, especially as he pushed past Cameron and followed the omegas to the kitchen.

Cameron closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let the static fade out before following them. The three of them had gathered on a set of stools at the counter while he went looking for food. He hadn't cooked a meal at the very least since Amara and Cin decided to drop in unannounced.

He ignored Amara and Ash bickering at each other over Nik's head. Nik was unusually quiet and Cameron wasn't sure if he actually liked it or not. At least when he was being irritably vocal, he didn't have to be worried about Nik ending up face down in a ditch somewhere.

Cameron grabbed what he needed and moved over to the counter where he got ready to make dinner. He could feel Ash watching him closely while he cooked, even if his hands had a slight tremor to them.

Cameron moved the vegetables in front of him and started cutting them. He wasn't happy with how he couldn't get them into the straight, crisp lines he usually did and managed to slice deeply into his hand.

Black blood instantly welled, slipping across his hand, staining the vegetables. He moved to wash his hands, but the faint whiteness slamming through his head had Cameron blacking out and crashing to the ground.

He was slowly brought to, head still stuffed full of cotton, even if there were three people sitting in front of him staring down at him, nearly bewildered. Nik looked confused, and was touching Cameron's face. Cameron swatted Nik's hand away. "Get off me."

Nik's face hardened, but it was Ash who said, "Want to tell me you're alright now?"

Cameron looked him dead in the eye. "I'm perfectly fine."

Nik was moving to grab a dishrag for Cameron's hand and went to wrap it tightly. "Here I thought you knew how to use your knives," Nik said.

When Cameron didn't say anything, Amara piped to Ash, "You should have healed him while he was knocked out."

"I'll remember that for next time Cameron decides to faint in front of me." Ash said.

Cameron pushed Nik back so he could stand. He frowned at the blood now all over his floor and his clothes. The sharp black fading in and out of his vision didn't help the matter either and he decided to move to finish washing his hands so he could cook.

"Hey, we're not done with this," Nik said.

"Yes we are," Cameron said, moving back to the counter to clean up the mess. "I'll have to start over."

"Stars, eat something first," Amara was saying. "You look like the world's first scarecrow snowman. You're almost as thin as Lev was like six months ago."

Nik went still and he looked back at Cameron who was ignoring the three of them.

"Sit down. I'll get your food ready after I get this cleaned up," Cameron said, moving the vegetables to the trash and moving to get more from the fridge.

"Cameron." Nik said. When Cameron didn't answer him, Nik appeared in front of him, slamming the fridge door shut. "Will you eat something?"

"I'll eat after I finish cooking you food. Sit down." He needed to get their damn food on their own plates before he could sit down. When Nik didn't do as told, Cameron grabbed his forearm. "Sit. Down."

"Nik," Amara said, from the counter.

Nik glared up at him. "Will you at least let Ash heal your hand."

"No," Cameron said. Why did he have to keep repeating himself to these angels when he did not want any godsdamned healers touching him? "Sit down before I sit you down myself."

"Nik," Ash said, sharply. "Do it."

Nik cut Ash a glare before looking back at Cameron. "Fine. Then let go of my arm."

Cameron let him go and watched Nik go plant himself down between Ash and Amara, glaring down at the countertop. Cameron went back to getting the fresh vegetables and going back to clean them. He was slower, trying to steady his hands more while he cleaned since one of them was bound, but at least he managed to get the vegetables cooking and the meat started.

The kitchen was dead silent except for the sounds of Cameron's cooking until Amara leaned over to Nik. "Do you want help touching up your hair?"

"What- my hair?" Nik asked, almost startled. "Oh, fuck. My hair."

"TDon't worry honey, it's fixable."

Nik grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, okay. I guess."

Ash said, "Better get the whole treatment. You look like a homeless nineteen year old junkie."

"Fuck you."

"Ladies," Amara said. "One of you have broken ribs.:"

"Okay? And?" Nik said. "Are you suggesting I'm too delicate to fuck."

"Right now? Yes. You are," Amara said.

Nik glared at her, but Ash said, "She's right- for once in her life."

"I've been right one other time in my life," Amara said, grinning at Ash. "Right when I found your prostate."

Cameron slammed her plate down in front of her. "One more word and I will cut your tongue out and feed it to you. Eat."

Amara gave him an irritatingly chipper salute and did as told. Cameron gave Nik and Ash their own food before sitting across from them. He waited, watching all three of them start to eat before beginning to eat, himself.

---

Lev stared at the clouds swirling slowly overhead. He hadn't wanted to go back to his house; there was nothing there for him. Going to Cameron's was out of the question. Being at Bay and Nate's was uncomfortable as all get out. Amara wasn't home, so Lev found himself beside a tree he only visited once a year, usually.

He didn't hear Darius approach, but he didn't jump either, when Darius laid down next to him. Lev looked over at him, watched him cross his ankles and tuck his hands behind his head as he stared up at the sky. Eventually Lev looked up again too.

"I know I was wrong." Lev let out a small breath before continuing. "And I'm sorry. I hurt Nik, but- I know that would have hurt Cameron, and by extension, you. You watched him for five hundred years."

Darius thought for a long time, not saying a word. Lev tried his best not to fidget. In the end, Darius said quietly, "Yes it would."

"You watched him for five hundred years," Lev repeated. "He never knew you were there, Or he didn't want to admit it, and you- you were unobtrusive enough he could ignore that. I didn't make it three months." He paused, mulling over what had been on the mind for the past several hours. "I wonder, maybe, if it'd be best that you come back. Not me."

Darius slowly looked at Lev. Lev was able to pretend not to notice until Darius sat up, looking down at him. "What are you talking about?"

Lev watched Darius carefully. "You're kind, and thoughtful. Cameron needs someone, and so does Nik, but I'm not-" He paused again, frustrated at how hard it was to phrase things properly. "I don't say this to sound pathetic. I'm serious. You're a good person, and you're good at- at being logical and empathetic at the same time. I'm over a century old, or I was, but- I'm not acting like it. I know I'm not good at being an adult. I don't try to. As much good it would do for me to be back, what if I do more harm?"

Darius seemed a little startled by those words, but still he didn't say anything for a good while. "This'll be your chance to be one," Darius finally said. "To learn. Grow. Be who you are supposed to be. This is meant to be your second chance, don't give it up because you feel guilty."

A small sigh escaped Lev. "You deserve one too," he said softly. After a moment, he sat up, and reached for Darius' hand hesitantly. Darius was just as hesitant at letting him take it. Lev swiped his thumb over the back of Darius' hand. "I still want it. But all of a sudden there's a huge mess to take care of when I get back, and I'm not sure how to fix it. And that doesn't even touch on the fact that, once again, you're on your own if I go." To Lev's relief, when Lev stopped to gather his thoughts again, Darius let him in silence. "But turning it down and deflecting to you again is another form of running away, isn't it?" Lev finally asked quietly.

Darius' eyes looked thoughtful. "I do," he said. "But they chose you. And trying to hide behind me and my desires will not fix your own problems. Even if you stay dead, haunting those you love, you will be haunted by your own inactions."

Lev tapped his thumb against Darius' skin. "I'm scared," Lev finally said. "And beyond that... I don't know what to do. To- to fix what i did. If i even can. I just- Nik doesn't do apologies. Cameron wants action." He didn't look away, felt like it would be unfair. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think that's a question you have to answer yourself." He laid back down, though he didn't let go of Lev's hand.

After a long moment, Lev laid back himself, staring up at the sky. "I guess I should have known that," he said quietly. He gave it a few minutes, and then, "I'm glad I met you."

"I'm glad I met you too," Darius said quietly. "It's been lonely."

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @idreamonpaper @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur @caelisis

[wonderingarmy]

Prince Kim Namjoon

Hello everyone! Who is excited for the comeback? I am! But first, as promised, Here is Prince Kim Namjoon. Hope everyone that gets to read it likes it. Thank you for your time. Please watch out for Prince Park Jimin. 

You met Namjoon at the local bookstore you are currently working at. The bookstore is close to the place where BTS just moved. You knew who BTS are, but you are not a real big fan since you are more focused on your work. You are also busy writing a collection a short stories that you want to be published. You have always wanted to be a writer and one of your dreams is to get your work published. You also love books and that is why you decided to work where you are surrounded by many of them. Plus the owner/manager lets you read and work on your short stories when the bookstore is not busy.

You were stocking up shelves with new books when  you noticed someone looking through one of the books you have read.

"You can never go wrong with Murakami", you said while stocking up the shelf behind him

"I mean, who doesn't like Murakami?" he said

You were surprised at his response as most people would just give you a polite smile and move on or doesn't even know the author.

"You look familiar" you said finally able to see his whole face. "Ah you're RM right? From BTS? I can't believe someone so famous would visit a local bookstore! Ah you're even more handsome in person" you continued still staring at him, you noticed he started to blush

"Ah thank you. But you can call me Namjoon" he said, still blushing

"Namjoon. That name suits your pretty face. I am Y/N and I am your friendly  customer support for the day! Please let me know if there is anything I can help you find." you said smiling brightly at him

"Do you compliment all your costumers so they will buy books here?" he asked as you continue with stocking the shelf

"Most of the times, yes. But I said you have a pretty face because you really do. And you should really buy Norwegian Wood because it's one of the best books Murakami has ever written." You said now back to looking him straight in the eye

Although his face is still red, he managed to look  back at you with a really cute smile and such an adorable dimple.

"How about this?" you said, "Buy the book, and if you don't like it, come back and I'll give you a full refund and you can keep the book for free. Donate it, do whatever with it, just don't burn it or shred it or JUST PLEASE DON'T HURT IT. Deal?"

"Your boss is not going to fire you if he finds out you're giving away a book for free?"

"He won't because you won't be back because you will like, I mean LOVE the book."

You both stared at each other for a few more seconds and finally he said he'll buy the book.

"Oh you're amazing RM! I---"

"It's Namjoon" he said interrupting you, still smiling and shaking his head at the same time

"Namjoon, I am sorry. I am just so used with RM, the BTS' leader. If you are ready for checkout, I'll meet you at the second register to your left?" you said both of you are smiling at each other.

You met him at the register after you let him browse at more books on the other shelves.

"Sir, I hope you enjoy the book. I promise it won't be a waste of your time and money." you said handing him the book

"Thank you Y/N. I enjoyed your friendly customer support" he said taking the book from you.

“whew. I am glad. I have exerted way too much effort today just for you to enjoy my company.” you said pretending to wipe a sweat on your forehead

Namjoon said his goodbye, smiled and left the bookstore without noticing the post it note you stuck at the very end of the book that says:

“You should let me know what you think of it just in case you don’t ever come back to the store. P.S. you are real handsome in person”

And below is your phone number.

It’s been months since that encounter happened. You haven’t seen him after that. You didn’t expect for him to be back since the bookstore is not that famous in your area and you didn’t know that he just lives nearby. But still you kept thinking of him. You even wrote a short story about a girl longing for a guy she knows she’ll never have. Still you wish for another day that you will meet again.

It’s already 9pm and you are getting ready to close the bookstore. You’re the last one to get off and while you were locking the door you saw Namjoon outside with that adorable smile of him. You unlocked the door and told him that the bookstore is closed.

“I am here to to give you something” he said

“Oh, you didn’t like the book?” you asked getting nervous

“I did. I love the book. Sorry it took me awhile to come and tell you my thoughts about it. I was so busy with rehearsals and concerts. I saw the note and I got sidetracked somewhere and of course, I lost it. I am really sorry.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to apologize. It’s no big deal. Plus I am just an ordinary friendly customer support and you’re way up high like the heavens, you even look like an angel. I don’t expect you to really text me just to let me know what your thoughts are about the book.” you said shyly

“No. To tell you the truth, I kind of want to see you again after our first meeting” he said feeling a little embarrassed “I kind of like your bubbly personality. And oh well here.” he continued handing you a bag

“Uhmmn what is this?” you asked surprised as you don’t expect a famous Idol.to give you something

“Open it” he said smiling

You opened the bag and found a book inside.

“It’s one of the books I really enjoyed reading while I was in Europe for the tour. And I thought I’ll give you a copy since you recommended a really great book to me. I hope you’ll find time to read it and hope you’ll end up liking it as much as I love Norwegian Wood.”  

You just stared at Namjoon not really knowing what to say after what he just did. Nobody has ever given you a book in your life besides your parents and you look like you are about to cry.

“Oh no. Are you going to cry? Please don’t” He said now looking worried

“I am so happy” you told him and tears started falling down your face.

After that, you and Namjoon became close friends. He would always buy you great books from all the countries they would go to. You would hang out at the nearest coffee shop and just read books or exchange opinions about the same book you both just finished reading. You would often visit him during rehearsals and bring him and the rest of the members so snacks and foods. He would visit you as well in your apartment and stay the night when he wants to be away from their dorm. He would also give you tickets to see them perform.

You would often fight as well and not talk for weeks because of stupid things. Like how he would borrow a book from your shelf and not return it because he lost it.

“Why are you getting mad? I bought it for you!” he would yell

“Yeah, but you GAVE it to me. So, technically, it’s mine!” you would yell back

“Y/N you’re so childish. I’ll buy you a new one”

“No. That one is special. You don’t understand and you will never understand!” and then you’ll start crying.

When you start crying, he leaves because he knows it will take awhile for you to forgive him. He knows that you’ll need space after you had a fight. And he’ll give you the space. But after a few weeks, he’ll show up on your doorstep and apologize. And of course, you always forgive him.

He also hates it when you pull a prank on him, which causes you to argue more.

“Seriously Y/N!! You’re the worst! That is not even funny!”

“You’re so sensitive!”

He would leave again, but when you know it’s your fault, you’re the one that shows up in their dorm to apologize.

You don’t know when or how it happened, but you were slowly falling in love with. You know you’ll never going to have a chance with him but you have to tell him or you’ll just end up hurting yourself more if you don’t.

On his birthday, you gave him a copy of the short story you have written about him and some books with images of crabs. You put a note inside the gift bag that tells him how much he means to you and that you are falling in love with him.

“Y/N, thank you so much for your gift. Let’s meet up tomorrow?” he texted the next day

“Sure” you replied.

You are not sure what else to say so you just waited for the day you have to meet up. You were so nervous, you didn’t get to sleep that night. He didn’t even say anything about the note that you slid in the bag. You wonder if he lost it too since you wrote it on another small post it note.

The next day, Namjoon was waiting for you outside the bookstore.

“How’s work?” he asked and as soon as you even reply to his question he held your hands

You looked at him with surprised face

“Namjoon…”

“I am glad you love me too.” he said smiling. “I have been trying to buy you all these books so you can have your own little library and even bigger to show you how much you mean to me. And I was so worried I was telling myself that I might end up buying the Library of Congress just for you to notice how much I love you. I love every moment I spent with you. I am sorry Y/N, I didn’t tell you I love you sooner.”

“Namjoonie….” you said, tears started falling down your cheeks again.

Namjoon hugged you.

“Y/N, Let’s build a house filled with books and make and write beautiful stories we'll tell our kids in the future?” he said

“I’d love too Joonie” you said now hugging him back burying your face on his shoulders

“Please no snot on my jacket. This is my favorite” he said laughing

You punched him lightly on his back. He pulled away and wiped your tears from your face. He held your hands again and you both walk through the streets smiling at each other.

[alwayshailing87]

It’s time I talk about this.

I created a new tumblr because no one needs to see the sock drawer of content on my older account. I’ll start fresh here.

I had contemplated writing a blog post for a while. There’s been so much weighing heavy on my mind that I just needed to get out to begin with. The decision to finally open up was sort of inspired by a friend’s social media post earlier this week. It touched on fears of abandonment, and anxiety. I felt the need to talk about my own fears. I’m coming to the realization that I’m in much greater pain than I let on.

2019 could have been considered a comeback year for me in a lot of ways. I committed to the fitness journey. I broke free from years of emotional abuse and manipulation. I found my spark again, my inner comedienne. I’ve expanded my circle and have some truly incredible friends at my side. I’ve connected with some genuine people that I’d love to keep in my life. Sky’s the limit, right?

As 2019 came to a close I recalled all of these victories, and yet it was the loneliest I had felt. It was the most...broken...that I had felt. I’m thankful for my mom and all of the hugs she gave me while I was home. There were nights during the Christmas season where I would just well up with tears because I felt so alone. She sort of chalked it up to me missing my grandparents, as I always do at Christmas. But I was too embarrassed to explain that there was more.

Circle back to the mention of emotional abuse. Without getting into dirty details, some of which are of my own fault, I was lured into a situation where a man I trusted took advantage of my heart and my mind. Freshly devastated from the sudden passing of my Grammy in 2013, he white-knighted his way into my world. Promises of protection, love, to “treat me the way I had always deserved to be treated”. He wanted to “tear down my walls”. Lots of that stuff that makes a depressed, vulnerable woman feel like someone gives a shit.

Months prior to this, I stared down a flowing Monongahela from the railing of the Birmingham bridge. I couldn’t do it, obviously. I was in rough shape mentally but asking myself over and over “what would happen to Sylvia” seemed to keep me from ending my life. To have someone essentially reach out a hand to you and vow to be your protector and love you, it would be insanity to not grab that hand and hold on with everything you have left.

He knew of the several times I had been ghosted, or stood up on dates. Blown off on dating sites, and just treated like trash in general. I’m a chubby girl who’s a few eons off from a model body. His whole act was to shower me with affection and I fell for every single fucking bit of it.

When I think back on this, I think of these words and phrases that were said to me: Soul mate. Gorgeous. Dream girl. The perfect woman. Best friend. The greatest thing that ever happened to me. And there was friendship. Laughter. Humor that spanned from highbrow to lowbrow and every terrible pun in between.

Stupidly enough I fell in love. And I loved fiercely, as I do with anyone I care about. I offered up my unwavering loyalty. See, the thing is...I’ve gone through my life dedicating myself to my loved ones as a fierce family member and friend. There have been so many times in my life where I felt alone or unwanted, that I vowed to make sure anyone who settled into my circle would never feel the way I have felt. This was no different.

As expected (and in retrospect, thankfully) this whole thing came crashing down. I found out I was one warm body out of multiple. And that’s when things for me started to deteriorate.

Being toggled back and forth between “I still love you” and “You’re one of the best things in my world” and “I don’t want you in my circle anymore” will eventually warp your mind. Even as a friend, the loyalty given due to the history was thrown out like a used sock. The memories and the bond meant nothing. I began to think I deserved it as punishment for the mistakes I’ve made in my life. Maybe I did or still do. In the aftermath of this, I was on suicide watch. To be outright rejected and shunned by the very person who vowed with everything he was to be THAT person for you, you wonder if you were ever worth anything at all. If your white knight tells you that he doesn’t care about you anymore, then maybe you’re just not worth any man’s time. That maybe you’re just not worth anything, period.

It’s weird now, being able to step out of a situation and say “hey, he was a piece of shit and all of this was toxic”, while also being pretty emotionally damaged because now you feel like any man who expresses any sort of liking towards you is lying. And when you feel fat and disgusting on a frequent basis, you’re highly skeptical of a good looking guy finding you attractive and not chasing some dime of a babe elsewhere.

In the time since I’ve freed myself from the bullshit, I’ve heard those similar words. Gorgeous. Perfect. Beautiful sassy funny and any word in between that makes me think a man might truly and whole-heartedly value a single shred of my existence. And while it feels wonderful, and hearing it makes me smile, my brain retreats back to the feeling of “He’s just saying that while he probably bangs or flirts with a bunch of other women. You know that you’re nothing compared to other smokeshows who are in his league”.

So when the messages go silent, or plans to go out on a date fall through, half of my brain says “he’s busy” or “things happen, it’s okay”, the other half gets back on its bullshit, and I assume the worst. Because it’s all I know.

All I know are lies. Just lies. Lies and excuses and half-assed answers and secrets. I don’t think any man has ever been proud to have me. And it’s brought me to this place where I feel alone and unwanted. It’s brought me paranoia and crippling anxiety. I’m scared of destroying the fledgling of a relationship(?) I have going because I have been so destroyed by lies that it’s so hard for me to believe people. And that terrifies me. The last thing I want to do is push someone away because I know that what I have to give in a relationship is pure and genuine. I try so hard to fight the irrational fear and BELIEVE what is being said to me. Even now I’m a crying mess as I type this, because the one I’ve been talking to...I can’t begin to express how I felt when I saw his huge smile in real time. It was a smile that completely took my breath away. It was a smile that was so genuine and it brought me pure joy when I saw it.

That kind of joy, those “butterflies” that someone feels in moments like that? I felt it. For a while I wasn’t sure if I could feel anything like that again. I think of that smile and I grin to myself all over again, and yet my heart sinks because I’m scared that it will disappear for someone better. Because I am always the second or third choice...or just not the choice at all.

For some reason the holidays just amplified the loneliness. I think of curling up with my someone at Christmas and enjoying the warmth and the lights. I’ve wanted that for so long, and I’m so tired of being alone. I’m just tired. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not worth a man’s honesty or time. The fear and worry that I’ll be told to get lost by someone I care about - again - is like a vice grip in my chest. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Sometimes tears just flow out of my eyes and I’m not even moving. It’s not just a fear of losing someone you genuinely want in your life, but it’s also the fear that the devil in your head is right; that you really are ugly, worthless and unwanted.

And I know the only way I can begin to combat it is therapy. There’s zero shame in admitting that I need to go back. My therapist helped me through the first phase of healing form the toxicity and abuse. But now I need to learn to handle the constant fears of abandonment. I tried to fight it for the last couple of months but I just can’t do this on my own. I just want to heal. There are so many parts of me that are strong and grounded, and I feel like this is the one piece of me that still hasn’t recovered from the trauma.

I’ve been told never to apologize for my fears and my trauma because it was, and is real, but I still feel a need to express some level of remorse because this is not the best version of me. I don’t take pride in the reactions I’ve had. I can only humbly ask for patience as I work through this.

[fear-god-shun-evil]

I Live Even Happier Than the Rich

Editor’s note: By saying that the poor can be happier than the wealthy, I do not mean that I am resentful to the rich, and it’s just my understanding from the following experiences of Chen Yan, the author of this article. Everyone has reasons to struggle for their living throughout their life. To put it another way, these reasons are, as we often have talked about, life goals or lofty ambitions. Among them, the most common ideal is to become rich. So, how much time and energy do we need to invest in achieving this goal? Is a person who becomes rich really happy? Next, Chen Yan will use her personal experiences to tell you.

Selling socks was a method for me to become rich.

I was proud and arrogant and from an early age and I was determined to strive hard to make money to live a better life than others. As the saying goes: “If one wishes to succeed, one has to take great risks.” After getting married, in order to earn money, I borrowed over 100,000 yuan from my relatives to buy machines to produce socks. From then on, I started a business selling socks. I devoted all of my mind and body to my career being full of great aspiration. Every day, I got up early and went to bed late, working overtime whenever I could. Even though I was so tired that I had a sore back, I was unwilling to take a rest. Seven months later, unexpectedly, my husband and I made more than 100,000 yuan, which made me very jubilant. Therefore, I decided to expand the factory to make more money, and eventually I increased the amount of machines from 10 to 40. Subsequently, the stress kept mounting. For example, in order to sell socks, I had to invite clients out for meals; otherwise, my business would quickly be stolen, or I would have to lower the price. So, I worried about how to sell socks every day.

Once, one of my customers needed 500,000 pairs of socks. After I signed a contract with him, in order to ensure the quality and quantity of products, I supervised the work in the workshop day and night. Who would have thought that after I delivered the goods, the customer actually said the socks had quality problems. As a result, three months of human and financial resources were wasted, which caused me to lose over 100,000 yuan. This loss hit me hard; I wanted to cry but no tears came. No matter where I went, I always sighed and groaned, feeling deeply pained in my heart. Seeing that I lived such a tiring life, my younger brother led brothers and sisters to preach God’s work in the last days to me. I knew it was good to believe in God and I had several meetings, but because there was much more work for me to do in the factory, I didn’t take faith in God to heart.

Afterward, the government reorganized factories on a large scale and my factory was forced to close down. After that, through the introduction of a big client who came from Northeast China, my husband and I went there to do business. After arriving there, we were total strangers, and on top of that, the temperature was forty degrees below zero, so it was so hard for us to endure this. But, in order to make money, I clenched my teeth and persevered no matter how painful or exhausting it was. After the factory opened, I watched after two machines by myself and put in sixteen hours’ work a day to save money. Being heavily overloaded with work, five months later, I became only skin and bones. However, when seeing the money I had earned, I felt that all of my efforts were worthwhile. But a good situation didn’t last forever. Originally, this client promised us that he would settle the account each month, but later, he unexpectedly welshed on us and refused to give us the money. My husband and I did the math and discovered that only electricity bill was over 20,000 yuan a month. Therefore, my husband removed a portion of the goods from the factory. After finding out, the client actually said that he set up the factory and hired us to manage it. Not only did he refuse to give us the months of processing fees, but also he seized our machines. Afterward, although through investigation it was confirmed that those machines belonged to us, the money that we had invested was thrown away. Finally, we were compelled to come back to our hometown.

The dream of earning money made me get further and further from God.

After returning home, I, dazzled by money, still refused to give up. I always thought: “Could it be that my hard work all these years has been in vain? The huge debts need to be paid off. If I try again, maybe I’ll have money.” As a result, I started to raise money and busy myself setting up a factory again. After the brothers and sisters in my hometown heard I had come back, they came to see me and communicate God’s will with me. They invited me to attend meetings and read God’s words, but I always looked for excuses to refuse them. After a number of setbacks, my factory finally opened. Who would have known that the socks which I spent several months producing couldn’t be sold. In the end, I lost almost 300,000 yuan.

This failure was a heavy blow for my husband and me. My husband suffered from depression, while I, due to the excessive work for a long time, was unable to straighten my waist, and could only drag myself to trudge forward; besides, I got uterine fibroid. On top of that, my relatives and neighbors all came to my house collecting their debts. All this made me feel my life was meaningless and want to die to end this painful torment.

Failures made me examine anew the path of life.

Just when I could not see a shred of hope for my life, my brothers and sisters read a passage of God’s words to me: “‘Money makes the world go round’ is the philosophy of Satan and it prevails among the whole of mankind, among every human society. You could say that it is a trend because it has been imparted to everyone and is now affixed in their heart. People went from not accepting this saying to growing used to it so that when they came into contact with real life, they gradually gave tacit approval to it, acknowledged its existence and finally, they gave it their own seal of approval. Isn’t this process that of Satan corrupting man? Perhaps people do not understand this saying to the same degree, but everyone has different degrees of interpretation and acknowledgment of this saying based on things that have happened around them and their own personal experiences, right? Regardless of how much experience someone has with this saying, what’s the negative effect that it can have on someone’s heart? (People would esteem money.) Something is revealed through the human disposition of the people in this world, including each and every one of you. How is this interpreted? It’s the worship of money. Is it hard to get this out of someone’s heart? It is very hard! It seems that Satan’s corruption of man is thorough indeed!” God’s words laid bare the source of my pain. I lived by Satan’s poisons, such as “Money makes the mare go,” “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing,” and “Whoever gives me money is my father; and whoever feeds me is my mother.” Because of this, I wanted to make more money in order to lead an aristocratic lifestyle. Recalling these years, in order to earn money, I worked hard, and even though I was so exhausted that I had a sore back, I would still be completely willing. No matter when my factory went out of business or when I was deceived by my client and lost money in Northeast China, I did not awaken from my failures, but stubbornly wished to use my own effort to earn more money and live a life where people would look highly upon and admire me. In the first few years, I indeed made some money, but who could know my heartbreak and suffering behind it? Now, from God’s words I saw clearly it turned out that the reason why I was in so much pain was because I accepted those erroneous views Satan had instilled in me and thus deeply got sucked into the vortex of making money with no way of extricating myself. As a consequence, I not only was exhausted physically and mentally and disease-ridden, but I wasn’t inclined to worship God, and thus grew further and further apart from Him and was completely carried off by Satan eventually. When I returned home and wanted to make a comeback, God still used my brothers and sister to try to persuade me with sincerity many times and communicate His will to help me. However, I was too stubborn to listen to what they said and persisted in opening a factory to make money. In the end, I fell ruined and suffered extreme pain physically and mentally. This was the outcome of my holding wrong views on pursuit and taking the wrong path.

I also read in the word of God: “The sadness of man is not that man seeks happy life, not that he pursues fame and fortune or struggles against his own fate through the fog, but that after he has seen the Creator’s existence, after he has learned the fact that the Creator has sovereignty over human fate, he still cannot mend his ways, cannot pull his feet out of the mire, but hardens his heart and persists in his errors. He would rather keep thrashing in the mud, vying obstinately against the Creator’s sovereignty, resisting it until the bitter end, without the slightest shred of contrition, and only when he lies broken and bleeding does he at last decide to give up and turn back. This is true human sorrow.” “After you recognize this, your task is to lay aside your old view of life, stay far from various traps, let God take charge of your life and make arrangements for you, try only to submit to God’s orchestrations and guidance, to have no choice, and to become a person who worships God.” The revelation in God’s words made me feel remorse. Weren’t these words exactly a true portrayal of me? Before I believed in God, I desperately wanted to earn money to change my fate. After believing in God, although I had known the fact that God rules the fate of us humans, I still did my utmost to fight against my destiny according to Satan’s poisons in order to make money and live a better life than others. As a result, I didn’t have meetings regularly and became far away from God. Finally, I brought myself endless heartbreak and suffering and was tormented to the point of exhaustion. Now, I truly experienced that man’s future and destinies really are controlled and predestined by God and that I couldn’t change my fate at all by relying on myself. So, I was unwilling to struggle by myself, unwilling to hurt God’s heart, rebel against or shun Him; on the contrary, I was willing to read more of His words, attend meetings, fellowship about His words with brothers and sisters, living in the light of Him. Besides, I was also willing to leave my life, work and future under the control of God, submit to God’s orchestration and arrangement, and become a person who truly worships God. When I thought like this, I felt particularly at ease and my mood improved a lot.

I made such a choice when facing the temptation of money.

One day, my aunt, who was in another part of the country where she did business, came back and said to me with a drawl: “It is a money-centered society now. You are still young and have the opportunity to make a comeback. Selling socks is easier this year than last year. You have many years of experience in business, so you should go back to your old work. After one year, your debts will be repaid soon. Relying on working for others, you won’t be able to turn your life around forever. Listen to me, go back to your old work.” What she said struck me right where it hurt and I was tempted. I thought: “Yes, if I can open a factory again and make a comeback, won’t I be able to live a good life? Not only will I clear my debts, but I will also be able to hold my head high. It won’t be like now—no matter who I meet, I feel I’m inferior.”

At that time, seeing that it was as if I had absorbed my aunt’s words, my mother hemmed. I suddenly realized that if I did what my aunt had said, wouldn’t I simply return to the painful life I had led in the past? Then, I immediately called out to God in my heart and asked Him to keep my heart, so that I could make a choice in accordance with His will. After praying, I thought of God’s words: “Don’t many people see getting money as being worth any cost? Don’t many people sacrifice their dignity and integrity in the pursuit of more money? Don’t many more people lose the opportunity to perform their duty and follow God for the sake of money? Isn’t this a loss for people? … Isn’t this the philosophy and corrupt disposition of Satan taking root in your heart? If you do this, hasn’t Satan achieved its goal? … Satan corrupts man at all times and at all places. Satan makes it impossible for man to defend against this corruption and makes man helpless to it. Satan makes you accept its thoughts, its viewpoints and the evil things that come from it in situations where you are unwitting and when you have no recognition of what’s happening to you. People fully accept these things and take no exception to them. They cherish and hold these things like a treasure, they let these things manipulate them and toy with them, and this is how Satan’s corruption of man becomes deeper and deeper.” Through enlightenment from God’s words, I understood God’s intentions and saw through Satan’s tricks. I waved after hearing my aunt’s words today—this was because I didn’t truly discern and despise Satan’s rules for survival. I was deeply poisoned by its life philosophies that were as follows: “Money makes the mare go” and “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing.” They had already become a part of my life, making me a slave to money. Satan used this to make me abandon the true way, betray God and thus completely lose the opportunity to be saved by God. I thought of the past when I lived by these thoughts. They brought me nothing but heartbreak and suffering, and made me grow further and further away from God. I gave thanks for God’s protection that allowed me to see through Satan’s tricks. Then I told myself inwardly: “I can’t take my old path. This time, I will stand on the side of God. My future life can’t be planned by me; no matter whether I will be poor or rich in the future, it is in God’s hands. I am willing to obey God’s control and arrangements.” Therefore, I said to my aunt: “Fate is determined by Heaven. During our lifetime, whether we humans are poor or rich can’t be controlled by us. Let nature take its course in all things.” When she heard me say this, she looked at me, shook her head, and said nothing more.

A correct decision brought me a blessed life.

Afterward, my husband went out to work and paid off a part of our debts. Following that, there wasn’t a lot of pressure in my life. As I looked after my child at home, I attended meetings, sang hymns and praised God with my brothers and sisters, and moreover, I performed my duties in the church. I felt very grounded and happy. Also, thanks to God’s blessing, my health improved dramatically: I gained my weight back and the uterine fibroid was miraculously treated.

After experiencing this, I am more confident in God’s work of saving mankind and have a much better understanding of His love. In retrospect, when I failed and lived in pain in the process of pursuing money according to Satan’s philosophies, God used His words to enlighten me to make me walk out of misery and live a carefree and happy life. I am deeply aware that all of this was God’s grace and blessing for me. Now, although I’m not rich or live a life admired by others, I fortunately have believed in God in the last days and gained His salvation, living, at ease and meaningfully. I’m even happier than the rich. I am thankful to God for saving me. All the glory be to God!

[pinknerdpanda]

Once Upon a Time

Word Count: 2,500

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam (mentioned), Chris (OC - mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, death, depression other warnings in the tags

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in weeks for various reasons - it feels good to be back in the game a bit! This was written for @because-imma-lady-assface’s Ashley reached 300 Will & Grace comeback-31st birthday-celebration. My prompt is bolded below.

Beta: @hannahindie and @wheresthekillswitch - you are both saints and I adore you. Thanks for all your support and wisdom.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added (or removed) please send me an ASK.

x

Once Upon a Time

Four days.

As I look at the smiling faces in the photograph - their eyes full of life and their steadfast hope of a future full of possibility and joy - that’s the only thing I can think; four days. In some ways four days can feel like eternity; like I used to feel on a Monday afternoon, as I answered another email and picked up another phone call, the hopelessness that Friday may never come would begin to engulf me. In other ways it can feel like an instant - a blink of an eye - the way it felt when it came time to say goodbye to my summer camp fling on the last day, the realization that we may never see each other again sobering as we wondered where the last week had gone. There are times, however, when four days passes exactly the way it’s meant to, and I suppose, looking back now - though the memories have begun to dull and blur around the edges - that’s what it must have felt like at that time.

There was nothing special about the four days that followed the photograph now illuminating my screen, and I suspect that those same smiling faces - now staring unblinkingly back at me from their pixelated home - remained smiling; blissfully unaware of what lay ahead. They seem to be now laughably oblivious to the fact that just four days stood between the people they were and the people they would be forced to become.

The caption under the photograph is a simple one - not exactly high on the creativity scale for that particular day. “Starting the New Year off with a bang - I’m in love with this year already!”

A tear trails down my cheek as I read those words over and over again in my head. “I’m in love with this year already.” I can hardly contain the bitter laughter. It seems so foolish - naive and almost a bit reckless. It’s like marrying a complete stranger after knowing them for an hour or accepting a ride from a masked man in an unmarked black van. Falling in love with a year before you’d even had an idea what horrors it planned on throwing at you, or how much of your life it planned to rip away from you. How could they - I - have been so stupid?

The sound of footsteps in the corridor seems to zap me from my daze and I snap my laptop closed and hastily rub at the wetness on my face before reaching for the glass and bottle of Jack and pouring a generous drink.

“Y/n!” Dean bellows as he rounds the corner. He sighs when our eyes meet as though relieved, though I spot the subtle twitch in his jaw as I tip back my glass and refill it again.

“Polo,” I mumble before downing glass number two.

“What? Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day.” Dean’s eyebrows draw together as he crosses his large, plaid encased forearms over his chest.

“Oh, what a coincidence,” I reach for a second glass and divide the remnants of the liquor between them, before pushing one in Dean’s direction. “I’ve been trying to ignore you all day.”

Dean doesn’t move, but instead gives me this studying glare that makes me want to reach across the table and take back the drink I just gave him. After a moment he uncrosses his arms and takes the seat opposite me, though the look on his face has not changed.

It’s probably my voice that did it. I’ve always prided myself on my stoic poker face and lately, my eyes have been stranded in a perpetual state of bloodshottedness; but my voice - low and sounding vaguely of tires on an unpaved road - had betrayed me. I add it to my mental list of shit that has let me down this year.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean closes his palm around the tumbler, absently tracing the rim in lieu of bringing it to his now pursed lips.

I now understand the look he’d been sporting only moments ago, as I feel my face twist into what I can only assume is a similar look while I silently appraise him. In the few months that I’d known Dean - God, has it really only been months? - I’ve come to appreciate several things about him. First on the list - he is one of the smartest and bravest people I have ever met, rivaled only by his younger but taller brother Sam. Where Dean is all guns-a-blazing, shoot first and ask questions last bravado; Sam is quiet and reserved. Outwardly, he’s a gentle giant, methodically formulating his own opinions and plans, every step carefully considered to the last breath. But underneath his careful nature, he's filled with silent pain, manifesting as an invisible rage that burns to his very core. In some ways, that makes him more dangerous than Dean. Not to say Dean doesn’t have his share of scars and inward struggle, but he wears his heart on his sleeve, though to some the view may seem backward.

“Nope,” I throw back number three and relish the burn as it slithers down my throat to join its already fallen comrades.

Dean nods, squinting as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip and the sight of it makes my belly squirm. Another thing about Dean that I’ve come to appreciate - though it’s only with the help of my good buddy Jack that I’m able to admit it to myself without the dreary side-effects of self loathing and guilt coming along for the ride - is that Dean is just fucking hot. I’ve nearly lost count of the number of drunken fantasies I’ve allowed myself to envision starring the mint-eyed man looking back at me. Though the mornings following such nights have been just as guilt ridden and bleak as if I’d cheated on my husband and woken up next to a stranger. My husband. Chris.

For a moment Chris’ face flashes through my mind and I feel the pressure in my chest mounting as the gaping hole there threatens to overtake me. Before I can process what’s happening I’m gasping for air and I’m struck with the realization that the broken sobs now filling the room are coming from me.

The weight of everything I’ve lost over the last nine months bears down on me, and I can almost feel my soul bowing under it’s unwelcome advance. Nine months ago I’d been living a life of gleeful ignorance where vampires sparkled and things that died stayed dead. That innocence was pillaged from me the night the demon possessed Chris and decimated everything that we’d ever worked for and dreamed about. With it went every single hope and dream I’d ever stowed away for a rainy day, every shred of normality and the very laughter from my lungs.

There are nights I can still see his face, unnaturally contorted as he’d tied up then tortured me; still feel his fingers twisting into my hair as he’d yanked my head back and dragged the tip of the knife along my neck, taunting me. That demon had taken the shape of the man that I’d loved and perverted every memory we’d ever shared as he’d mangled my flesh and laughed. I think that’s the worst part. There was no agenda for him, no grand plan - he’d made that very clear. He’d been bored. Plain and simple.

I don’t remember seeing Sam and Dean knocking down my door, or hearing Sam’s deep, even timbre as he’d calmly recited the Latin that had sent the demon kicking and screaming to the depths of hell. I couldn’t tell you the first words Dean had whispered into my ear as he’d cut the bonds that had held me down or how long I’d been there. The only memory that I have of those last few moments of my old life was the horror that flickered across Chris’ face as he took in my battered, bleeding body before his own breathing ceased and his eyes went slack. That is the mental movie that plays on a never ending loop inside my head and keeps the hole in my chest from healing. Those brief, final moments are what prompted me to accept Sam and Dean’s offer of a room at the bunker, and they continue to fuel my desire to rid the earth of as many evil assholes alongside them as I am physically able to.

I’m suddenly aware of three things - first of all, the tears have stopped - my breathing is still coming in raspy, labored inhales - but the tears are gone. Second, Dean’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around me, one hand pressed firmly against my back and the fingers of the other coming delicately through my gnarled hair, soothingly. Dean’s lips are close to my ear and he’s humming softly; I recognize the tune as a Beatles song. Third - and this is important - my own hands are clutching onto him as though he was the last lifeboat on the Titanic and my face is buried in the crook of his neck, the soft, worn flannel collar now damp from my tears.

When did this happen? Though my brief time with the Winchesters had presented itself with many similar scenarios - me, weepy and mournful, reliving the events of that night in some way and Dean, empathetic and kind, steadfast and unwavering as he watched me put the pieces of my broken self back together, his attempts at assistance all but thwarted by my pride - never had such an occasion ended this particular way.

As we stand there - still unsure when I’d even stood or how Dean came to be holding me, not to mention how long we’d been standing there.  His humming fades, though neither of us attempt to move away. A small voice somewhere in the back of my mind whispers that this is wrong, that this is somehow betraying Chris or his memory. Another voice, stronger and resembling that of my own, whispers back that this is just a hug; a comforting embrace from one friend to another in a time of deepest sorrow. A third voice laughs, a trill, high pitched sound as the second voice makes an annoyed, distinctly teenager sounding noise.

When we finally break apart, the look on Dean’s face is enough to swallow me whole. The green of his eyes is a fine outline around his deep, black pupils as they bore into mine. I am vaguely aware that his hands are still where they had been seconds before. A dozen things spring to mind that I want to say to him as we stand there willing the other to speak first. I want to thank him for saving my life, scream at him for not letting me die with Chris, and laugh at how unsure he looks in this moment, as though he was a 15 year old boy trying to muster the courage for his first kiss. My mouth is dry and none of the words I want to say seem to be forming complete thoughts so I stand there a second longer, allowing the moment to consume me.

“It’s been nine months to the day.” My voice cracks pathetically and had we been further apart, he may not have been able to hear me. Dean nods.

“I know. That’s why I was calling you. I didn’t want you to be alone.” His eyes search mine and though I am not sure what exactly he’s looking for, I can make an educated guess. “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“Thank you.” Dean nods again and starts to step back, but my hands haven’t moved either and I clutch tighter at him. I pour every ounce of myself - every thought, every emotion, every fear - into my eyes as I look into his. There is the barest hint of hesitation from Dean as I stretch up and place my lips against his, but he recovers quickly from whatever conflict he’d just been experiencing and it’s like someone lit a match and threw it in a puddle of gasoline.

His hands are everywhere at once and his lips are working magic against my own. For the first time all night, I feel lighter. More than that, I feel something other than the pain and hopelessness I’ve gotten so used to. The feel of his tongue sweeping past my lips and his breath mingling with mine makes me lightheaded as I mold myself against his firm body. Soon my lungs are burning in desperation for fresh oxygen and we break apart, his forehead pressed against mine.

“Y/n,” his voice is softer than a whisper, almost like an exhale, but it speaks loud enough. In true Dean Winchester fashion he’s already erecting walls and fortifying his emotional defenses to put distance between us. He’s telling himself that it’s for my own good and the punishment for his momentary lapse in judgement has already begun.

I refuse.

I refuse to continue to let this year bleed me dry. I refuse to be a prisoner of my own despair. I refuse to let him shut me out like he’s already beginning to do. I. Refuse.

“No!”

Dean’s face is puzzled and truthfully, the forcefulness in my voice is unfamiliar to my own ears.

“Don’t shut me out, Dean. Please. Not now.”

Dean’s mouth forms a little “o” and he blinks down at me. I can tell he is surprised I read him so easily.

“I just...I’m not…” he licks his lips, stalling for time. “It’s not the right…”

“I swear to god if you say ‘it’s not the right time’ I just may throat punch you,” Dean almost chuckles and as he opens his mouth to retort, I cut him off. “This year has been the worst year of my life. Losing Chris...I will never be ‘over’ that. Ever. But you saved me Dean. You and Sam swooped into my life out of nowhere and you saved me. In more ways than one.” I grab Dean’s hand and place it over my heart. “This hole will never not hurt. But I am done allowing the pain to dictate who I am.”

“But the people I care about, y/n,” Dean’s anguish is palpable, “they always wind up hurt.”

“Well, the people I love wind up dead, apparently. You and I understand how fleeting this life is Dean, and I am through hiding from it. Are you?”

Dean’s lips are on mine before I can even blink. His strong arms lift me easily and as he kisses me senseless en route to his room - or my room; frankly I don’t know and I could honestly care less - it’s as though a tiny bit of the person I used to be is filtering back in. A glimmer of hope flashes, albeit briefly, before my eyes. Maybe - possibly - there is a little bit left of this year to love and perhaps with time and healing - and probably loads more Jack - the pain will become a distant memory.

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

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[focusontheeasternlightning-blog]

I Gave Up the Pursuit of Money Because of Finding True Happiness

By Chen Yan, China

Editor’s note: By saying that the poor can be happier than the wealthy, I do not mean that I am resentful to the rich, and it’s just my understanding from the following experiences of Chen Yan, the author of this article. Everyone has reasons to struggle for their living throughout their life.

 To put it another way, these reasons are, as we often have talked about, life goals or lofty ambitions. Among them, the most common ideal is to become rich. So, how much time and energy do we need to invest in achieving this goal? Is a person who becomes rich really happy? Next, Chen Yan will use her personal experiences to tell you.

Selling socks was a method for me to become rich.

I was proud and arrogant and from an early age and I was determined to strive hard to make money to live a better life than others. As the saying goes: “If one wishes to succeed, one has to take great risks.” After getting married, in order to earn money, I borrowed over 100,000 yuan from my relatives to buy machines to produce socks. From then on, I started a business selling socks. I devoted all of my mind and body to my career being full of great aspiration. Every day, I got up early and went to bed late, working overtime whenever I could. Even though I was so tired that I had a sore back, I was unwilling to take a rest. Seven months later, unexpectedly, my husband and I made more than 100,000 yuan, which made me very jubilant. Therefore, I decided to expand the factory to make more money, and eventually I increased the amount of machines from 10 to 40. Subsequently, the stress kept mounting. For example, in order to sell socks, I had to invite clients out for meals; otherwise, my business would quickly be stolen, or I would have to lower the price. So, I worried about how to sell socks every day.

Once, one of my customers needed 500,000 pairs of socks. After I signed a contract with him, in order to ensure the quality and quantity of products, I supervised the work in the workshop day and night. Who would have thought that after I delivered the goods, the customer actually said the socks had quality problems. As a result, three months of human and financial resources were wasted, which caused me to lose over 100,000 yuan. This loss hit me hard; I wanted to cry but no tears came. No matter where I went, I always sighed and groaned, feeling deeply pained in my heart. Seeing that I lived such a tiring life, my younger brother led brothers and sisters to preach God’s work in the last days to me. I knew it was good to believe in God and I had several meetings, but because there was much more work for me to do in the factory, I didn’t take faith in God to heart.

Afterward, the government reorganized factories on a large scale and my factory was forced to close down. After that, through the introduction of a big client who came from Northeast China, my husband and I went there to do business. After arriving there, we were total strangers, and on top of that, the temperature was forty degrees below zero, so it was so hard for us to endure this. But, in order to make money, I clenched my teeth and persevered no matter how painful or exhausting it was. After the factory opened, I watched after two machines by myself and put in sixteen hours’ work a day to save money. Being heavily overloaded with work, five months later, I became only skin and bones. However, when seeing the money I had earned, I felt that all of my efforts were worthwhile. But a good situation didn’t last forever. Originally, this client promised us that he would settle the account each month, but later, he unexpectedly welshed on us and refused to give us the money. My husband and I did the math and discovered that only electricity bill was over 20,000 yuan a month. Therefore, my husband removed a portion of the goods from the factory. After finding out, the client actually said that he set up the factory and hired us to manage it. Not only did he refuse to give us the months of processing fees, but also he seized our machines. Afterward, although through investigation it was confirmed that those machines belonged to us, the money that we had invested was thrown away. Finally, we were compelled to come back to our hometown.

The dream of earning money made me get further and further from God.

After returning home, I, dazzled by money, still refused to give up. I always thought: “Could it be that my hard work all these years has been in vain? The huge debts need to be paid off. If I try again, maybe I’ll have money.” As a result, I started to raise money and busy myself setting up a factory again. After the brothers and sisters in my hometown heard I had come back, they came to see me and communicate God’s will with me. They invited me to attend meetings and read God’s words, but I always looked for excuses to refuse them. After a number of setbacks, my factory finally opened. Who would have known that the socks which I spent several months producing couldn’t be sold. In the end, I lost almost 300,000 yuan.

This failure was a heavy blow for my husband and me. My husband suffered from depression, while I, due to the excessive work for a long time, was unable to straighten my waist, and could only drag myself to trudge forward; besides, I got uterine fibroid. On top of that, my relatives and neighbors all came to my house collecting their debts. All this made me feel my life was meaningless and want to die to end this painful torment.

Failures made me examine anew the path of life.

Just when I could not see a shred of hope for my life, my brothers and sisters read a passage of God’s words to me: “‘Money makes the world go round’ is the philosophy of Satan and it prevails among the whole of mankind, among every human society. You could say that it is a trend because it has been imparted to everyone and is now affixed in their heart. People went from not accepting this saying to growing used to it so that when they came into contact with real life, they gradually gave tacit approval to it, acknowledged its existence and finally, they gave it their own seal of approval. Isn’t this process that of Satan corrupting man? Perhaps people do not understand this saying to the same degree, but everyone has different degrees of interpretation and acknowledgment of this saying based on things that have happened around them and their own personal experiences, right? Regardless of how much experience someone has with this saying, what’s the negative effect that it can have on someone’s heart? (People would esteem money.) Something is revealed through the human disposition of the people in this world, including each and every one of you. How is this interpreted? It’s the worship of money. Is it hard to get this out of someone’s heart? It is very hard! It seems that Satan’s corruption of man is thorough indeed!” God’s words laid bare the source of my pain. I lived by Satan’s poisons, such as “Money makes the mare go,” “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing,” and “Whoever gives me money is my father; and whoever feeds me is my mother.” Because of this, I wanted to make more money in order to lead an aristocratic lifestyle. Recalling these years, in order to earn money, I worked hard, and even though I was so exhausted that I had a sore back, I would still be completely willing. No matter when my factory went out of business or when I was deceived by my client and lost money in Northeast China, I did not awaken from my failures, but stubbornly wished to use my own effort to earn more money and live a life where people would look highly upon and admire me. In the first few years, I indeed made some money, but who could know my heartbreak and suffering behind it? Now, from God’s words I saw clearly it turned out that the reason why I was in so much pain was because I accepted those erroneous views Satan had instilled in me and thus deeply got sucked into the vortex of making money with no way of extricating myself. As a consequence, I not only was exhausted physically and mentally and disease-ridden, but I wasn’t inclined to worship God, and thus grew further and further apart from Him and was completely carried off by Satan eventually. When I returned home and wanted to make a comeback, God still used my brothers and sister to try to persuade me with sincerity many times and communicate His will to help me. However, I was too stubborn to listen to what they said and persisted in opening a factory to make money. In the end, I fell ruined and suffered extreme pain physically and mentally. This was the outcome of my holding wrong views on pursuit and taking the wrong path.

I also read in the word of God: “The sadness of man is not that man seeks happy life, not that he pursues fame and fortune or struggles against his own fate through the fog, but that after he has seen the Creator’s existence, after he has learned the fact that the Creator has sovereignty over human fate, he still cannot mend his ways, cannot pull his feet out of the mire, but hardens his heart and persists in his errors. He would rather keep thrashing in the mud, vying obstinately against the Creator’s sovereignty, resisting it until the bitter end, without the slightest shred of contrition, and only when he lies broken and bleeding does he at last decide to give up and turn back. This is true human sorrow.” “After you recognize this, your task is to lay aside your old view of life, stay far from various traps, let God take charge of your life and make arrangements for you, try only to submit to God’s orchestrations and guidance, to have no choice, and to become a person who worships God.” The revelation in God’s words made me feel remorse. Weren’t these words exactly a true portrayal of me? Before I believed in God, I desperately wanted to earn money to change my fate. After believing in God, although I had known the fact that God rules the fate of us humans, I still did my utmost to fight against my destiny according to Satan’s poisons in order to make money and live a better life than others. As a result, I didn’t have meetings regularly and became far away from God. Finally, I brought myself endless heartbreak and suffering and was tormented to the point of exhaustion. Now, I truly experienced that man’s future and destinies really are controlled and predestined by God and that I couldn’t change my fate at all by relying on myself. So, I was unwilling to struggle by myself, unwilling to hurt God’s heart, rebel against or shun Him; on the contrary, I was willing to read more of His words, attend meetings, fellowship about His words with brothers and sisters, living in the light of Him. Besides, I was also willing to leave my life, work and future under the control of God, submit to God’s orchestration and arrangement, and become a person who truly worships God. When I thought like this, I felt particularly at ease and my mood improved a lot.

I made such a choice when facing the temptation of money.

One day, my aunt, who was in another part of the country where she did business, came back and said to me with a drawl: “It is a money-centered society now. You are still young and have the opportunity to make a comeback. Selling socks is easier this year than last year. You have many years of experience in business, so you should go back to your old work. After one year, your debts will be repaid soon. Relying on working for others, you won’t be able to turn your life around forever. Listen to me, go back to your old work.” What she said struck me right where it hurt and I was tempted. I thought: “Yes, if I can open a factory again and make a comeback, won’t I be able to live a good life? Not only will I clear my debts, but I will also be able to hold my head high. It won’t be like now—no matter who I meet, I feel I’m inferior.”

At that time, seeing that it was as if I had absorbed my aunt’s words, my mother hemmed. I suddenly realized that if I did what my aunt had said, wouldn’t I simply return to the painful life I had led in the past? Then, I immediately called out to God in my heart and asked Him to keep my heart, so that I could make a choice in accordance with His will. After praying, I thought of God’s words: “Don’t many people see getting money as being worth any cost? Don’t many people sacrifice their dignity and integrity in the pursuit of more money? Don’t many more people lose the opportunity to perform their duty and follow God for the sake of money? Isn’t this a loss for people? … Isn’t this the philosophy and corrupt disposition of Satan taking root in your heart? If you do this, hasn’t Satan achieved its goal? … Satan corrupts man at all times and at all places. Satan makes it impossible for man to defend against this corruption and makes man helpless to it. Satan makes you accept its thoughts, its viewpoints and the evil things that come from it in situations where you are unwitting and when you have no recognition of what’s happening to you. People fully accept these things and take no exception to them. They cherish and hold these things like a treasure, they let these things manipulate them and toy with them, and this is how Satan’s corruption of man becomes deeper and deeper.” Through enlightenment from God’s words, I understood God’s intentions and saw through Satan’s tricks. I waved after hearing my aunt’s words today—this was because I didn’t truly discern and despise Satan’s rules for survival. I was deeply poisoned by its life philosophies that were as follows: “Money makes the mare go” and “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing.” They had already become a part of my life, making me a slave to money. Satan used this to make me abandon the true way, betray God and thus completely lose the opportunity to be saved by God. I thought of the past when I lived by these thoughts. They brought me nothing but heartbreak and suffering, and made me grow further and further away from God. I gave thanks for God’s protection that allowed me to see through Satan’s tricks. Then I told myself inwardly: “I can’t take my old path. This time, I will stand on the side of God. My future life can’t be planned by me; no matter whether I will be poor or rich in the future, it is in God’s hands. I am willing to obey God’s control and arrangements.” Therefore, I said to my aunt: “Fate is determined by Heaven. During our lifetime, whether we humans are poor or rich can’t be controlled by us. Let nature take its course in all things.” When she heard me say this, she looked at me, shook her head, and said nothing more.

A correct decision brought me a blessed life.

Afterward, my husband went out to work and paid off a part of our debts. Following that, there wasn’t a lot of pressure in my life. As I looked after my child at home, I attended meetings, sang hymns and praised God with my brothers and sisters, and moreover, I performed my duties in the church. I felt very grounded and happy. Also, thanks to God’s blessing, my health improved dramatically: I gained my weight back and the uterine fibroid was miraculously treated.

After experiencing this, I am more confident in God’s work of saving mankind and have a much better understanding of His love. In retrospect, when I failed and lived in pain in the process of pursuing money according to Satan’s philosophies, God used His words to enlighten me to make me walk out of misery and live a carefree and happy life. I am deeply aware that all of this was God’s grace and blessing for me. Now, although I’m not rich or live a life admired by others, I fortunately have believed in God in the last days and gained His salvation, living, at ease and meaningfully. I’m even happier than the rich. I am thankful to God for saving me. All the glory be to God!

[love-god-forever]

I Live Even Happier Than the Rich

By Chen Yan

Editor’s note: By saying that the poor can be happier than the wealthy, I do not mean that I am resentful to the rich, and it’s just my understanding from the following experiences of Chen Yan, the author of this article. Everyone has reasons to struggle for their living throughout their life.

To put it another way, these reasons are, as we often have talked about, life goals or lofty ambitions. Among them, the most common ideal is to become rich. So, how much time and energy do we need to invest in achieving this goal? Is a person who becomes rich really happy? Next, Chen Yan will use her personal experiences to tell you.

Selling socks was a method for me to become rich.

I was proud and arrogant and from an early age and I was determined to strive hard to make money to live a better life than others. As the saying goes: “If one wishes to succeed, one has to take great risks.” After getting married, in order to earn money, I borrowed over 100,000 yuan from my relatives to buy machines to produce socks. From then on, I started a business selling socks. I devoted all of my mind and body to my career being full of great aspiration. Every day, I got up early and went to bed late, working overtime whenever I could. Even though I was so tired that I had a sore back, I was unwilling to take a rest. Seven months later, unexpectedly, my husband and I made more than 100,000 yuan, which made me very jubilant. Therefore, I decided to expand the factory to make more money, and eventually I increased the amount of machines from 10 to 40. Subsequently, the stress kept mounting. For example, in order to sell socks, I had to invite clients out for meals; otherwise, my business would quickly be stolen, or I would have to lower the price. So, I worried about how to sell socks every day.

Once, one of my customers needed 500,000 pairs of socks. After I signed a contract with him, in order to ensure the quality and quantity of products, I supervised the work in the workshop day and night. Who would have thought that after I delivered the goods, the customer actually said the socks had quality problems. As a result, three months of human and financial resources were wasted, which caused me to lose over 100,000 yuan. This loss hit me hard; I wanted to cry but no tears came. No matter where I went, I always sighed and groaned, feeling deeply pained in my heart. Seeing that I lived such a tiring life, my younger brother led brothers and sisters to preach God’s work in the last days to me. I knew it was good to believe in God and I had several meetings, but because there was much more work for me to do in the factory, I didn’t take faith in God to heart.

Afterward, the government reorganized factories on a large scale and my factory was forced to close down. After that, through the introduction of a big client who came from Northeast China, my husband and I went there to do business. After arriving there, we were total strangers, and on top of that, the temperature was forty degrees below zero, so it was so hard for us to endure this. But, in order to make money, I clenched my teeth and persevered no matter how painful or exhausting it was. After the factory opened, I watched after two machines by myself and put in sixteen hours’ work a day to save money. Being heavily overloaded with work, five months later, I became only skin and bones. However, when seeing the money I had earned, I felt that all of my efforts were worthwhile. But a good situation didn’t last forever. Originally, this client promised us that he would settle the account each month, but later, he unexpectedly welshed on us and refused to give us the money. My husband and I did the math and discovered that only electricity bill was over 20,000 yuan a month. Therefore, my husband removed a portion of the goods from the factory. After finding out, the client actually said that he set up the factory and hired us to manage it. Not only did he refuse to give us the months of processing fees, but also he seized our machines. Afterward, although through investigation it was confirmed that those machines belonged to us, the money that we had invested was thrown away. Finally, we were compelled to come back to our hometown.

The dream of earning money made me get further and further from God.

After returning home, I, dazzled by money, still refused to give up. I always thought: “Could it be that my hard work all these years has been in vain? The huge debts need to be paid off. If I try again, maybe I’ll have money.” As a result, I started to raise money and busy myself setting up a factory again. After the brothers and sisters in my hometown heard I had come back, they came to see me and communicate God’s will with me. They invited me to attend meetings and read God’s words, but I always looked for excuses to refuse them. After a number of setbacks, my factory finally opened. Who would have known that the socks which I spent several months producing couldn’t be sold. In the end, I lost almost 300,000 yuan.

This failure was a heavy blow for my husband and me. My husband suffered from depression, while I, due to the excessive work for a long time, was unable to straighten my waist, and could only drag myself to trudge forward; besides, I got uterine fibroid. On top of that, my relatives and neighbors all came to my house collecting their debts. All this made me feel my life was meaningless and want to die to end this painful torment.

Failures made me examine anew the path of life.

Just when I could not see a shred of hope for my life, my brothers and sisters read a passage of God’s words to me: “‘Money makes the world go round’ is the philosophy of Satan and it prevails among the whole of mankind, among every human society. You could say that it is a trend because it has been imparted to everyone and is now affixed in their heart. People went from not accepting this saying to growing used to it so that when they came into contact with real life, they gradually gave tacit approval to it, acknowledged its existence and finally, they gave it their own seal of approval. Isn’t this process that of Satan corrupting man? Perhaps people do not understand this saying to the same degree, but everyone has different degrees of interpretation and acknowledgment of this saying based on things that have happened around them and their own personal experiences, right? Regardless of how much experience someone has with this saying, what’s the negative effect that it can have on someone’s heart? (People would esteem money.) Something is revealed through the human disposition of the people in this world, including each and every one of you. How is this interpreted? It’s the worship of money. Is it hard to get this out of someone’s heart? It is very hard! It seems that Satan’s corruption of man is thorough indeed!” God’s words laid bare the source of my pain. I lived by Satan’s poisons, such as “Money makes the mare go,” “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing,” and “Whoever gives me money is my father; and whoever feeds me is my mother.” Because of this, I wanted to make more money in order to lead an aristocratic lifestyle. Recalling these years, in order to earn money, I worked hard, and even though I was so exhausted that I had a sore back, I would still be completely willing. No matter when my factory went out of business or when I was deceived by my client and lost money in Northeast China, I did not awaken from my failures, but stubbornly wished to use my own effort to earn more money and live a life where people would look highly upon and admire me. In the first few years, I indeed made some money, but who could know my heartbreak and suffering behind it? Now, from God’s words I saw clearly it turned out that the reason why I was in so much pain was because I accepted those erroneous views Satan had instilled in me and thus deeply got sucked into the vortex of making money with no way of extricating myself. As a consequence, I not only was exhausted physically and mentally and disease-ridden, but I wasn’t inclined to worship God, and thus grew further and further apart from Him and was completely carried off by Satan eventually. When I returned home and wanted to make a comeback, God still used my brothers and sister to try to persuade me with sincerity many times and communicate His will to help me. However, I was too stubborn to listen to what they said and persisted in opening a factory to make money. In the end, I fell ruined and suffered extreme pain physically and mentally. This was the outcome of my holding wrong views on pursuit and taking the wrong path.

I also read in the word of God: “The sadness of man is not that man seeks happy life, not that he pursues fame and fortune or struggles against his own fate through the fog, but that after he has seen the Creator’s existence, after he has learned the fact that the Creator has sovereignty over human fate, he still cannot mend his ways, cannot pull his feet out of the mire, but hardens his heart and persists in his errors. He would rather keep thrashing in the mud, vying obstinately against the Creator’s sovereignty, resisting it until the bitter end, without the slightest shred of contrition, and only when he lies broken and bleeding does he at last decide to give up and turn back. This is true human sorrow.” “After you recognize this, your task is to lay aside your old view of life, stay far from various traps, let God take charge of your life and make arrangements for you, try only to submit to God’s orchestrations and guidance, to have no choice, and to become a person who worships God.” The revelation in God’s words made me feel remorse. Weren’t these words exactly a true portrayal of me? Before I believed in God, I desperately wanted to earn money to change my fate. After believing in God, although I had known the fact that God rules the fate of us humans, I still did my utmost to fight against my destiny according to Satan’s poisons in order to make money and live a better life than others. As a result, I didn’t have meetings regularly and became far away from God. Finally, I brought myself endless heartbreak and suffering and was tormented to the point of exhaustion. Now, I truly experienced that man’s future and destinies really are controlled and predestined by God and that I couldn’t change my fate at all by relying on myself. So, I was unwilling to struggle by myself, unwilling to hurt God’s heart, rebel against or shun Him; on the contrary, I was willing to read more of His words, attend meetings, fellowship about His words with brothers and sisters, living in the light of Him. Besides, I was also willing to leave my life, work and future under the control of God, submit to God’s orchestration and arrangement, and become a person who truly worships God. When I thought like this, I felt particularly at ease and my mood improved a lot.

I made such a choice when facing the temptation of money.

One day, my aunt, who was in another part of the country where she did business, came back and said to me with a drawl: “It is a money-centered society now. You are still young and have the opportunity to make a comeback. Selling socks is easier this year than last year. You have many years of experience in business, so you should go back to your old work. After one year, your debts will be repaid soon. Relying on working for others, you won’t be able to turn your life around forever. Listen to me, go back to your old work.” What she said struck me right where it hurt and I was tempted. I thought: “Yes, if I can open a factory again and make a comeback, won’t I be able to live a good life? Not only will I clear my debts, but I will also be able to hold my head high. It won’t be like now—no matter who I meet, I feel I’m inferior.”

At that time, seeing that it was as if I had absorbed my aunt’s words, my mother hemmed. I suddenly realized that if I did what my aunt had said, wouldn’t I simply return to the painful life I had led in the past? Then, I immediately called out to God in my heart and asked Him to keep my heart, so that I could make a choice in accordance with His will. After praying, I thought of God’s words: “Don’t many people see getting money as being worth any cost? Don’t many people sacrifice their dignity and integrity in the pursuit of more money? Don’t many more people lose the opportunity to perform their duty and follow God for the sake of money? Isn’t this a loss for people? … Isn’t this the philosophy and corrupt disposition of Satan taking root in your heart? If you do this, hasn’t Satan achieved its goal? … Satan corrupts man at all times and at all places. Satan makes it impossible for man to defend against this corruption and makes man helpless to it. Satan makes you accept its thoughts, its viewpoints and the evil things that come from it in situations where you are unwitting and when you have no recognition of what’s happening to you. People fully accept these things and take no exception to them. They cherish and hold these things like a treasure, they let these things manipulate them and toy with them, and this is how Satan’s corruption of man becomes deeper and deeper.” Through enlightenment from God’s words, I understood God’s intentions and saw through Satan’s tricks. I waved after hearing my aunt’s words today—this was because I didn’t truly discern and despise Satan’s rules for survival. I was deeply poisoned by its life philosophies that were as follows: “Money makes the mare go” and “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing.” They had already become a part of my life, making me a slave to money. Satan used this to make me abandon the true way, betray God and thus completely lose the opportunity to be saved by God. I thought of the past when I lived by these thoughts. They brought me nothing but heartbreak and suffering, and made me grow further and further away from God. I gave thanks for God’s protection that allowed me to see through Satan’s tricks. Then I told myself inwardly: “I can’t take my old path. This time, I will stand on the side of God. My future life can’t be planned by me; no matter whether I will be poor or rich in the future, it is in God’s hands. I am willing to obey God’s control and arrangements.” Therefore, I said to my aunt: “Fate is determined by Heaven. During our lifetime, whether we humans are poor or rich can’t be controlled by us. Let nature take its course in all things.” When she heard me say this, she looked at me, shook her head, and said nothing more.

A correct decision brought me a blessed life.

Afterward, my husband went out to work and paid off a part of our debts. Following that, there wasn’t a lot of pressure in my life. As I looked after my child at home, I attended meetings, sang hymns and praised God with my brothers and sisters, and moreover, I performed my duties in the church. I felt very grounded and happy. Also, thanks to God’s blessing, my health improved dramatically: I gained my weight back and the uterine fibroid was miraculously treated.

After experiencing this, I am more confident in God’s work of saving mankind and have a much better understanding of His love. In retrospect, when I failed and lived in pain in the process of pursuing money according to Satan’s philosophies, God used His words to enlighten me to make me walk out of misery and live a carefree and happy life. I am deeply aware that all of this was God’s grace and blessing for me. Now, although I’m not rich or live a life admired by others, I fortunately have believed in God in the last days and gained His salvation, living, at ease and meaningfully. I’m even happier than the rich. I am thankful to God for saving me. All the glory be to God!

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON PRISM’S MAIN VOCAL YANG JIHYUN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: anita CURRENT AGE: 27 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 COMPANY: MSG

IDOL IMAGE

she’s got an earnest smile. the kind the stretches from ear to ear and lights up her eyes.

that’s what gets her into prism.

not the singing, not the manufactured beauty; the earnest smile that lights up a room.

“people want to feel happy, want someone to make them happy.” a sunbae tells her once after a grueling practice session. “you know kings used to hire jesters to entertain them. idols are like that, people pay to see us to make them happy. they don’t want anything real from us, they want overwhelming joy, and sex appeal, and whatever they’re not getting out of their own miserable lives. you’re a prize on a pedestal, that’s all you’ll ever be.”

jihyun takes it to heart, callousness aside.

no one wants her faults, her folly. they want the girl with the earnest smile who sings prettily and works hard for their love. that’s the girl that earns them praise, not the other flawed human being no one bothers to acknowledge.

she bloodies her feet to be a better dancer, spends hours upon hours practicing the phrasing of songs for a better performance, waste hours in front of mirrors trying to determine how to look her prettiest.

it’s all vanity born out of a desire to please. born out of a desire to be adored.

and they praise her for it. they call her pretty, call her lovely, lavish a false sense of identity onto her because she has an earnest smile and works hard for their love.

“a good girl,” they call her, “a girl to take home and admire.” a girl to never throw away.

it’s all she wants, even if it’s bullshit. love, even if it’s conditional, adoration even if it’s temporary. if she breaks her back to get what she wants so be it, so long as they love her it’s worth the excruciating effort to kill herself and make someone the nation can love.

IDOL HISTORY

WINTER ‘99

it’s cold the day eomma goes to the store and doesn’t come back.

jihyun doesn’t understand until years later why she’s crying as she puts on her shoes.

“jihyun don’t you want to come with me?” she keeps asking, while blackened tears roll down her cheeks. “don’t you want to come to the store with me?”

“no.”

she says it once, says it twice, says it three times. never getting why eomma continues to ask.

“it’s cold,” she elaborates, “appa will be home soon, he said we’d go play at the arcade today.”

it happens in a flurry. eomma rushes over, brings jihyun into her arms and sobs into small shoulders.

“i’m sorry, jihyun.” she cries, “say you’ll forgive me one day. please say you will.”

jihyun only pats her on the back. eomma cries a lot, appa says she’s just made of water and needs to let it out a lot.

eventually eomma lets go. eventually eomma wipes her eyes, fixes her clothes and walks out the door and never comes back.

appa comes back hours later and asks no questions.

“life works like this,” he tells his daughter.

SUMMER ‘04

appa leaves behind a guitar, a box of cassettes, a denim jacket, and a rack of debt.

“useless until the end,” halmeoni mumbles under her breath.

it’s hot in his apartment, and the stench of death still lingers a day after the cleaners come. halabeoji excuses himself and blames the grief, halmeoni blames the smell.

her fingers draw absent-minded patterns on the sleeve of the jacket. it’s too hot to wear it, halabeoji keeps telling her to take it off but jihyun stays poised, wrapped in appa’s jacket that still smells like tobacco and aftershave; still smells like appa.

when halabeoji comes back stinking of alcohol and cigarettes, he wraps his arms around jihyun and tells her they’re going to jeonju in the morning, halabeoji, halmeoni, and herself.

“the rest of your father’s stuff will get sent to us. don’t worry, i won’t let that old woman throw everything away.”

jihyun still keeps the jacket on anyways, just for safe keeping she says.

SPRING ‘07

she comes back from seoul with a broken dream.

there’s no space for a round-faced girl with clumsy guitar playing skills. no space for girls trying to chase the dreams of her failed father in a bid to collect another trace of him. there’s no space for the yang jihyuns of the world in the entertainment business.

there are prettier girls, more charismatic girls, more talented girls. girls more deserving of the time and energy it takes to train a girl into a woman every wants to know, wants to be. chubby little yang jihyun doesn’t have what it takes to make it anywhere.

“come back next year,” one scout tells her, “lose some weight, learn how to play guitar a little bit better and maybe i’ll say yes then.”

she promises she will.

AUTUMN ‘08

she weighs nine kilograms less when msg gives her a second chance.

back home everyone tells her how pretty she’s become, how talented she is. but her company takes one look at her and tells her she ought to get her nose fixed, her eyes too.

“you’re nothing really spectacular,” her vocal coach says after a long session, “but i guess the potential is there isn’t it?”

it’s all fodder to push her a little harder, make her a little better. jihyun licks her wounds in the darkness of her dorm room and cries to no one when her ego is ripped to shreds again and again.

WINTER ‘15

the charm of fame wears off eighteen months in. ends between the sixth and seventh singles around the same time jihyun falls off the side of a stage after the lights dim and a doctor tells her two days later that she has anemia and needs to slow down.

“if i slow down they’ll leave me behind,” she tells him as he pokes and prods at her, “if i stop people will forget about me. i’d rather drop dead.”

he only looks at her with a terse sort of expression before signing the release for her to return to work.

“kids these days.” she hears him mumble under his breath as she leaves.

SUMMER ‘17

halmeoni leaves a voicemail.

says she looks too thin, too tired, that even the tv cameras can’t cover the fact that she needs to rest.

“you’re not the happy little girl that wanted to go to seoul and write songs that people loved anymore. you’re just a tired looking stranger now. jihyun you have to find the time to take care of yourself.”

jihyun deletes the message, doesn’t bother to return the call.

there’s no time for the yang jihyuns of the world who fear becoming cowards like their mother or dying in obscurity like their father. the world spins madly on, her with it.

there’s too much to do. she’s to busy with fighting msg to give her a chance to demonstrate she’s more than just another little doll to sing prettily. she aches, to write to perform something of value for once, to make something worth her while. but the response remains the same.

next time. next time. next time.

in the end, she settles like they tell her to. one b-side per comeback. another song to forget about, but enough to keep her quiet and obedient.

WINTER ‘18

it catches up with her all at once.

ten years running at breakneck speed, a lifetime of avoiding ugly truths. it all hits her like a ton of bricks during an idle moment on some unexceptional tuesday afternoon.

her manager finds her locked in the bathroom, a sobbing mess that reminds her of a stranger she hasn’t seen in nineteen years.

it takes thirty-three minutes to convince her to come out of the room.

the doctor calls it nervous exhaustion. says she ought to lessen her stress anyway she can, ought to calm down and take a step back to reconvene with everything.

“i can’t do that,” she sobs in an ugly sort of fashion. vulnerability like this doesn’t suit her, girls like her ought to lick their wounds in private. “i can’t fucking do it.”

she’s all white knuckles and crescent-shaped blood pricks. this is anita of prism, this is yang jihyun at twenty-seven. a giant heaving ball who’s back shakes with sobs, unable to make sense of anything anymore.

“it’s okay,” the doctor tells her in a soft voice, “you’ll be all right.”

it ends with a drug prescription and a bleary-eyed yang jihyun being escorted out of the hospital with her manager holding her hand.

the fragility doesn’t suit her.

SUMMER ‘19

“jihyun, are you alright?” “jihyun, did you eat?” “jihyun, did you sleep?” “jihyun, are you taking care of yourself?”

all the voicemails from halmeoni sound the same. fretful concern and the overbearing tones of a matriarch with little to rule over. they all have the same sentiment, all a desperate plea for her jihyun to stop, to slow down and reconsider what it means to be yang jihyun.

“halmeoni,” she always replies, “i’m doing well. i’m taking care of myself, i’m taking my medication.”

“good,” halmeoni always says, “you know you’re my only grandchild and i worry about you. all i want is your happiness.”

jihyun always ends the call too early, halmeoni doesn’t need to hear her choked sobs.

she’ll get better at this, she promises.