#but they were selfish and my mother especially wanted someone to worship and love her unconditionally

[novadreii]

yes, it is dumb as fuck of people to have children when they do not have the emotional, mental and ESPECIALLY financial resources to do so. can't believe this still has to be said!

[gatekeeper-watchman]

The Bible and Abortion...4/11/2023

Of all the issues in our culture today, surely abortion is one of the most volatile. Perhaps no other issue has raised so much debate and anguish, plus time spent by various interested parties to educate to public on their views on it. Amid such a controversial issue, many simply throw up their hands and vow to stay out of it altogether. In the name of freedom and under the guise of “it isn’t my business” many choose to look the other way from this troubling issue, leaving the decision in the hand of lawmakers, doctors, and pregnant women. Although there are many different issues concerning abortion, the following is designed to focus on what the Bible says about abortion, and the consequences thereof.

Does God Care about Abortion?

What does God say about abortion? Do the millions of abortions that have taken place in this land bother Him? Is a fetus a “real person” in the eyes of God? If so, where does that leave us? If an unborn life is truly just a mere mass of fetal tissue to God, we should want to know. If He considers the life of the woman more important than her unborn child, we should want to know. And if He does consider that unborn life a “real person,” and just as important as the life of the mother that bears it, we most certainly should want to know. After all, we are all accountable to God not only for our individual lives but also as a generation and a nation.

Thou Shalt Not Kill and Its Application to Abortion

Throughout the Bible, God has plenty to say about the taking of innocent life. Most people in our nation, though they may not be familiar with all of the Ten Commandments, know that “Thou Shalt Not Kill” is listed there somewhere. The word “kill” in this instance specifically refers to “murder” — a premeditated and deliberate act of taking someone’s life. It is different from other forms of taking a life, which could be accidental, or in self-defense. God has different laws regarding different sorts of death. But He continually opposes and speaks against murder, especially the murder of the innocent.

Do not pollute the land where you are. Bloodshed pollutes the land and atonement cannot be made for the land on which the blood has been shed, except by the blood of the one who shed it. Do not defile the land where you live. Numbers 35:33-34

God’s judgment against the killing of an innocent life grows out of His love for humankind. The crime of murder is not only an offense against the sanctity of life; it is a pollutant upon the very land we live. God wants to spare us from the variety of ways this pollution is manifested. When the land becomes defiled with sin, people cry out “Where is God?” yet they refuse to take responsibility for breaking His laws, which were only given to us for our protection and good. Each sin that we commit is not merely an isolated incident but will set off a chain reaction of other sins if not dealt with. Since the legalization of abortion, for instance, child abuse has increased by over 1000%. This is the exact opposite of what those who legalized abortion thought it would do since it was assumed that only children who were initially unwanted were abused.

In Psalm 106, God speaks specifically against killing innocent children and babies. He says of His people: “They mingled with the nations and adopted their customs. They worshiped their idols which became a snare to them. They sacrificed their sons and their daughter to demons. They shed innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was desecrated by their blood.”

Today we may scoff, or wonder in disbelief how anyone, especially someone who claimed to follow God, could sacrifice their child to an idol or a demon. Yet, an idol is anything that we worship before God. Today, children are sacrificed to the idols of selfishness, convenience, “freedom,” and ambition — sacrificed to the very demonic powers that are behind such idols. Times haven’t changed that much. Human nature hasn’t changed, nor have Satan’s schemes against that which God considered so precious that He died to redeem it–human life.  To this day, it has become so critical to understand what the Bible says about abortion.

When Does Life Begin?

One may argue here that they agree that it is wrong to murder, but they still don’t see how a fetus necessarily qualifies as a human being. Perhaps God doesn’t feel the same way about a very young fetus, as He does an older fetus, a newborn, or a 50-year-old. It may be a different issue altogether with Him. Does the Bible say anything specifically about unborn children?

In Exodus 21:22 God gives a specific law regarding social order for the Israelites. He stated that if two men were fighting and hit a pregnant woman, thus causing her to give birth prematurely, they must be fined according to any damage done to the baby. The fine must be paid for the amount of damage inflicted upon the child. If God would make a law specifically referring to the rights of the unborn, then surely the unborn must mean something to Him!

It has been stated, “If the womb had windows, there would be no abortion.” As humans, we are not omnipresent and cannot know the full scope of what each human life is worth. We cannot dwell in the womb with a fetus, nor can we see it as it matures. But God can.

A Scientific View of Abortion

Just 18 days after conception, the baby’s heart begins to beat. At six weeks, brain waves can be measured. At eight weeks, the vital organs are functioning and fingerprints have formed. At nine weeks, the unborn baby can feel pain. Over 700,000 abortions each year are performed after this point in the pregnancy. By the beginning of the second month, the unborn child, small as it is, has begun to look distinctly human, though the mother may not even be aware that she is pregnant! By the time the baby is eleven weeks old, he or she breathes (fluid), swallows, digests, sleeps, dreams, wakes, tastes, hears, and feels pain. Babies born prematurely can survive outside the womb as young as 20-25 weeks old. Yet, all that is necessary to make the baby a grown human being is already there from the moment of conception. All it needs is time to mature.

Former Surgeon General, Dr. C. Everett Koop stated “We now know when life begins because the test-tube baby proves that life begins with conception. What do you have in the dish? An egg and a sperm. What do you add to it to get a baby? Nothing.” Though it is wee, it is still a real person, just as a crumb of bread is still real bread. No one who has been given the gift of life should dare despise the day of small beginnings. Have we forgotten so quickly that we were once as small?

“In the tiny, almost invisible thirty-two cell blastocyst–in that one gram or so of tissue–there is a physical potential and moral destiny unparalleled in our universe. Next to it, a gram of plutonium is a triviality: plutonium cannot compose a symphony, cannot cure cancer, cannot plan our course to the stars”. -Bernard Nathanson, M.D., and former abortionist-

A Spiritual View of What the Bible Says about Abortion

God said to the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. Before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5). God knew this man before he was born. As he was forming in his mother’s womb God gave him his personality, talents, and temperament. If his mother had gotten an abortion, the “fetal tissue” she aborted would have been a real person named Jeremiah; a mighty prophet of God and the gift of God’s voice to the nations, though she would never have known.

The Lord hath called me from the womb: from the bowels of my mother hath he made mention of my name. Isaiah 49:1

Did not he who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us within our mothers? Job 31:15

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:13-14

The above verses are only a sampling of the many Biblical references we find to live inside the mother’s womb. From them, it is clear that life begins when God creates it, not at some later point in time when it has grown to look like a newborn. God does not judge things according to their stage of development the way humans tend to. According to the above passages, even the tiniest embryo is the subject of His love and care. God sees each of our lives in the realm of our total existence, whether we are yet unborn, a young woman in the prime of her life, or an old man on his deathbed. He is patient with all of us, longing to bring each one of us into His maturity.

Do We Look Like God?

To destroy innocent human life is a crime against God and a rejection of the truth that we were made in His image. Everything in the universe belongs to Him anyway. Psalm 24:1: “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world and ALL who live in it.” Our own lives are a precious gift given to us, but ultimately, we belong to God! We are His possessions; we have merely been granted stewardship over our lives, talents, money, time, the earth we live on, and the things we “own.” Though children pass through us they are not ours, any more that we are the property of our parents. Each of us has been given the gift of life and freedom, for which we are responsible and accountable to God. None of us has the right to deny that same gift to an unborn person. It is an honor to carry that powerful force of another life within our very bodies– a life made in the very image of God! (Genesis 5:1-2)

God is no respecter of persons. If He knew Jeremiah in the womb, He knew you too. Do you believe that God lovingly fashioned you and loves you dearly? Do you believe that He has had a plan for your life from the beginning of time? A plan that none other can fulfill in quite the same way you can? That you came to this earth “trailing clouds of glory?” Or do you believe in your heart that you were a mere “accident” and that God has no personal concern for you or your life? Is it easier to believe that you are just a highly evolved animal? An animal (especially an undeveloped one) may certainly be easier to dispose of. It seems somehow even “natural,” as the laws of nature lend themselves to the survival of the strong and the equipped. Yet it seems doubtful that even an animal would come up with a way to deliberately kill its unborn offspring.

Even the jackals offer their breasts to nurse their young, but my people have become heartless like ostriches in the desert. Lamentations 4:3

Oh, let us turn from our heartlessness and defend the sanctity of human life! Out of respect for God, let us offer mercy and compassion to every life around us, born or unborn. Let us be givers of life instead of takers of life.

Am I My Brother’s Keeper?

Every 20 seconds another baby is aborted in this country, yet very few seem to notice. Statistically, one out of every three of us will die by abortion, and we will never know what we lost in those lives. Our country goes along its way leaving lawmakers to decide how the carnage should continue. We’ve bought into the lie that those we dispose of are not real people. It is the same old lie that was used to keep slavery legal and to exterminate masses of people in holocausts all over the world. We should be able to see through it by now, but as usual, most of us let circumstances and the current cultural climate dictate to us what is acceptable or not. Yet God tells us to: “Rescue those being led away to death, hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say ‘But we knew nothing of this,’ does not He who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay each person according to what he has done?” (Proverbs 24:11).

In our society today, we face a myriad of social problems as a result of our hypocrisy. Most of us have had to become somewhat double-minded just to keep a vestige of sanity. We put warnings on cigarettes and alcohol, that their consumption is dangerous to an unborn child. Yet we deem it perfectly legal, even “responsible” for a mother to have a doctor poison that same child inside her, or rip it to shreds with a surgical instrument. We might charge a man who kills a pregnant woman with a double homicide, yet what if that woman was on her way to the abortion clinic to dispose of her baby anyway? Do we then charge him with a single homicide? Why do 21 states have legislation to delay a death sentence imposed against a pregnant woman who is guilty of a crime, until after she delivers her baby? If we believed what we said about the unborn child is a mere blob of tissue, it would seem that no one would mind if that baby died along with the mother in the electric chair.

We wonder how respectable college kids can throw their newborn babies into a dumpster, yet what are we supposed to think? We’re the ones who told them that it is irresponsible to raise a child at a young age and that an “unwanted child” (which is a fallacy) is better off dead. They are not to blame as much as the media, the lawmakers, the abortion counselors, the doctors, and the voters. When a woman can have an abortion on a nine-month-old unborn child, and yet a week later be tried for murder if she disposed of the child outside the womb (which at that point, would seem to be a much easier and practical way to dispose of the baby) what are the young people of this nation supposed to think? Do we have to wonder at the lack of respect for human life that we see around us?

Evil prevails when good men, in the name of freedom, do nothing. 1 Peter 2:16: “Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil.” Very few of us would argue that crack cocaine or rape should be legal simply because people are going to do it anyway, yet that is the argument that is applied to abortion. As a nation, our morals and ethics vacillate between honor and convenience, integrity and greed. This double-mindedness has become cancer-eating away at the very heart of our nation.

History will speak of our abortion as a mark of the absolute decadence of our era. There will come a time when we will look back on abortion with the same shame we do now towards our evil treatment of the American Indians, and the blight of slavery. We wonder why history continues to repeat itself. It is because evil starts in little ways–it starts as a seemingly innocent thought in the heart of man. Sin always seems practical, necessary, or even “cute” in its initial stages. It is only in hindsight that we can see just how atrocious those massive exterminations were and how they went against the very core of what the United States was supposed to be. Yet, we have no right to condemn previous generations for the same deeds we commit today. Then, as now, the masses simply went along with whatever was the popular opinion. With slavery, it was even argued that the government didn’t have a right to tell people whether they could own slaves or not… That it was a personal choice to be made and that freedom of choice is what our country is all about. Only in that case, they forgot the rights of one whole people group. Sound familiar?

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” The Lord said. “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground. Now you are under a curse and driven from the ground which opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand.” Genesis 4:9-11

As a nation, we must repent for the heartlessness we have displayed to the most helpless members of our culture. Though God is merciful, He is also just. He cannot ignore the cries of the blood that has soaked our ground and stained our hands. We are bringing ourselves under a curse, but do not have the eyes to see it. We only see the fruit of that curse and we wonder what went wrong. Like Cain, our ears have become deafened to the cries of those we have murdered.

True Freedom Comes from Following the Bible’s Teachings

There are too many of us who prefer to let the media do our thinking for us. Should we disagree, many of us are too intimidated to ever speak out with conviction. As we let time go by, our godly convictions begin to slip away and we become numb. Eventually, we may even support that which we had earlier condemned. This is called the “searing of a conscience.” It happened in Hitler’s Germany and it is happening today. How can we bring a dead conscience back to life? How can we know the difference between right and wrong? As was just established, we cannot merely “listen to our heart” and follow what seems best at the time. Some of the most horrifying deeds in history have been done by those who were following whatever moral code was most convenient at the time. Freedom is not doing whatever suits our fancy at the moment. That will only bring slavery and sorrow to our souls. True freedom is having the power to know what is right and to choose accordingly. But how can we choose, if we do not know? How can we obtain true freedom?

You shall know the TRUTH and the TRUTH shall set you free. John 8:32

We must cleanse our minds by washing them with water through the WORD. Ephesians 5:26

God’s WORD is the Bible — ancient, yet ageless and seething with life. It will clean our thinking and bring life to our sin-deadened minds so we can see what He sees and feel what He feels. It will reveal our very thoughts to ourselves.

For the WORD of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Hebrews 4:12

Respect for God, His creation, and His Holy WORD, is the only way we will ever find true freedom.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, but fools despise wisdom and discipline. Proverbs 1:7

Wisdom and compassion cannot be found outside of God for He is wisdom and He is love. Long before heaven and earth were made, and long after they disappear, His WORD will remain. On the Day of Judgement, abortion and every other atrocity we have tried to justify will be shown for the evil it is. We must seek God now, while we have the time to do it! Today is the day of salvation.

It is not too late to repent and turn our hearts back to the Lord. We can bring healing and life to this land that we love if we will humble ourselves before God’s mighty right hand.

If my people, who are called by my name, and humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14

God Loves You!

If you are planning an abortion, please reconsider. Though your situation may seem hopeless, God will work something beautiful in your life if you trust and obey Him. Choosing to “remove” your problem will only create new ones. Michah 6:7: “Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” You will have to bear the guilt of your abortion or else harden your heart to not feel guilty. God loves both you and your child very much, and if you feel incapable of raising him or her, there are thousands of couples who have waited years for the chance to adopt a baby. Though it may be difficult to give it away, you will have given it the greatest gift of all–life. As Mother Theresa put it so simply “Love means to be willing to give until it hurts.” Give your child to a family that will truly love it. You can make the dreams of a childless couple come true… and you can bless the heart of God.

If you have already had an abortion, please do not feel that this was written only to bring you under guilt and condemnation. What is done is done and cannot be changed. God has your child in heaven with Him and longs to forgive you if you ask Him to. Once God forgives a sin, He forgets it, and DOES NOT HOLD IT AGAINST YOU ANY LONGER! Please do not hold against yourself what God has forgotten. “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I, even I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake and remembers your sins no more” (Isaiah 43:18, 25). Receive His love, for He loves you just as much as the child you lost. He already took your sin and bore it upon Himself so you would not have to bear the punishment, which would be eternal separation from Him. He knows the agony you’ve gone through better than any other, for He was there too, with you. Open your life to Him and let Him give you a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair. He will make you into an oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor (Isaiah 61:3).

In conclusion, the words of God ring out as clearly now as they did over 3,000 years ago:

This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before your life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your children may live, and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. Deuteronomy 30:19-20 From: Elder Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ, Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6 Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman, https://www.tumblr.com/gatekeeper-watchman Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElderStevenMiller https://www.facebook.com/StevenParkerMillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller,#Eldermiller1981

[aquilaofarkham]

title: mishpachah rating: T+ word count: 3,085 summary: Five years after rebuilding the manor—and the birth of a new Belmont into the world—Trevor decides to share an old recipe with his newfound family.

For @fibulaa 💛  Thanks so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

The first bread Trevor Belmont ate while living his newly orphaned vagabond life was so dry it cut at the inner walls of his throat. He swallowed each bite with grimace after grimace, knowing that despite the pain, the already hardened child of thirteen could stave off starvation for a little while longer. Until he tasted the faintest tinge of copper on his ruined tongue.

Putting those years far behind, he now stands in front of a wooden counter, blurry eyed and with a yawn reminiscent of a sun drunk cat. It seems clean at first glance but in every corner Trevor notices fragments of past meals which he tried wiping away once they were finished and placed on a more pristine table meant for family. Bits of salt, half minced vegetables, and crumbs of bread much softer than the ones belonging to a later childhood he would rather forget. This kitchen, warm in its early morning sunlight, was the final instalment of the manor, newly risen from the ashes. Or rather, simply rebuilt thanks to the calloused, blistered, and splintered hands. No more ruined stone, no more fire blackened beams holding together little less than an architectural skeleton. The somewhat mirror image of Trevor’s lost home has been faring better than the castle. Too many memories, fresh, ranging from bitter to incomprehensible.

Slowly, he grows conscious of his surroundings and his own self. A continuing habit of being the first to wake not just in this manor hold but in life. Reluctantly opening his eyes prior to dawn covering the landscape while still traveling alone only to drag a pair of worn boots back along a similar muddy road. Trevor never wanted to wake up before the sun. He just couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for much longer whether due to the laundry list of dangers or more often than not, his newfound hatred of whichever backwater hamlet he unfortunately found himself in.

He’s happy to wake up early. Happy to never feel a need to leave or escape, happy to know that lack of food replaced with pints of liquid pleasure mixed with death will never plague him again. Happy to prepare breakfast in a hot iron pot over a well stoked fire. What he thought he lost forever has come back, along with new additions to the family he’s carved out.

Another presence bounds her way into the kitchen and ambushes Trevor from behind. He’s not old—not yet, he’ll give it time—but years of drinking have made their permanent stay, dulling the more acute senses. Makes it easier for a five-year-old to catch him off guard. Trevor’s eyes bolt open as tiny arms hold him in a tight cage.

“Good morning, papa!”

His ears ring at the sound of Mirele’s loud voice, but at least he won’t have to worry about nodding off. He stares down at the youngest Belmont who looks as though someone had split Trevor and Sypha straight down their centres into four pieces and sewed each differing half onto the other in order to create a new person. A homunculi of messy dark chocolate hair, bright eyes shining with blue ice, full rosy cheeks somehow conspicuously smeared with some sort of dirt or jam, and enough energy to wear out an electric powered jackrabbit. 

“How’s my little monster doing this morning?” Everything Trevor says is laced with his own personal touch of affection and Mirele loves it.

“Mama and papa are still asleep. Help me wake them up! Pleaseeee?”

This doesn’t surprise him; Sypha has always preferred to savour her last moments of sleep longer than normal and Alucard is… well, Alucard.

“Tell you what.” Trevor places a lid onto the simmering pot with a heavy clank. “While this heats up for our breakfast, we’ll go wake up those lazy bones.”

“Right!” Hand in smaller hand, the two make their way upstairs into the shadowy master bedchamber. Curtains drawn with only a sliver of light cutting its singular path across the floor and over two distinct lumps covered by blankets and furs. They seem conjoined, linked in each other’s arms, unaware that a third party has been missing for long enough. Mirele plunges into the room first, jumping onto the bed as all children do when parents refuse to join the land of the conscious. She playfully shoves and cuddles her way between the two bodies who sink deeper beneath the covers, lazily moaning like ghosts.

“Mama! Papa! Wake up! It’s time to get up!”

Trevor hopes that his tactic of throwing open the weighted curtains works in a more effective manner. Listening to the rising chorus of wordless protests coming from behind, he’s pleased with the results. “Never thought I would be the one setting a good example for our daughter.”

“Do not get cheeky, especially this early.” Sypha’s response spills out like running water. It’s clear her mind isn’t quite all there yet. But she can scoop Mirele into her arms, find every ticklish spot, and illicit giggles that only canines might hear. “At least we both know how to have fun, right my sweet?”

“Vampires… nocturnal…” A deeper, muffled voice emerges from under one of the pillows.

“Something you’d like to share with us, Alucard?” Trevor quips, amused at how the other father of the household can never seem to shake off his morning dishevelment. Perhaps sleeping in a coffin would help—a very large one so he doesn’t have to be alone. Alucard reluctantly removes the pillow as tangled heaps of gold fall over his face.

“Vampires are supposed to be nocturnal. Would you rather I burst into ashes upon contact with the sun? Think of our girls, Trevor.”

“We’ve all seen you in the sun before, it’s about as dangerous as a clove of garlic.”

“I have my own means of physical protection. Far beyond your measly human comprehension, love.”

“Personally, I’ve been able to comprehend you plenty.”

Mirele stares up at Sypha, her bushy brows furrowed. “What does… comp… sshhheshion mean?”

“It’s just another word your fathers use whenever either of them want to feel smart.” 

Alucard gives Sypha a gentle pinch on either side of her abdomen. “I thought you were on my side.”

“What about my side?” Trevor asks, excelling at the greatest strength he possesses—the ability to never take anything seriously, only when he must.

“I’m hungry,” Mirele speaks up. “Hungry and bored. Can we eat now?”

--

This life is not normal, but then again it is. It always has been for them. Normal once meant coming together because of violence, encroaching darkness, and some flimsy prophecy stringing them along one dead body at a time. A prophecy which never said what had to be done after they followed it to the hard earned letter. Perhaps that’s why Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard floundered afterwards. No instruction on how to live their upturned lives.

Fuck prophecy.

They made this life by their own standards and in accordance with their own desires. They loved how they wanted to love and no prophecy could have foreseen Mirele. How she calls for her father while both Trevor and Alucard turn their heads at the same exact second. How she quickly calms herself when presented with a bowl of warm oatmeal drowning in honey and wild fruits hand plucked from the surrounding forest. But it’s not enough. Nothing ever is for someone always growing, always wanting more from life at such a young age.

“Can I have bread?”

Trevor, half way through his bitter coffee, turns to Sypha then Alucard as all three parental figures exchange glances. They haven’t the heart to tell Mirele. No bread at the ready, only the necessary ingredients and a considerable amount of flour bags to blanket Enisala. There’s the option of making it themselves, yet it depends on a certain someone’s capacity for patience.

“How do you feel about baking our own?” Trevor’s voice wavers, which he tries to mask with his characteristic dry tone. It’s been a long time since he’s made bread. Then again, helping the manor cooks was a somewhat selfish endeavour as it meant extra servings for the baby of the Belmonts. Yet his proposal goes over well with Mirele, whose inherited eyes light up at the prospect of trying something new.

“I wanna make bread! Can we? Can we please?”

“When was the last time you baked anything, Trevor?” Alucard asks, genuinely curious and with a healthy dose of skepticism. “You still won’t tell us much about anything concerning your former life, let alone the sort of foods your family ate.”

Trevor feels a twinge in his gut—still better than a punch. His two lovers, even his daughter, they only know of his mother; a matriarch in her own right. They know her name, the monsters she killed, and not much else. Trevor’s excuses: he doesn’t remember anything about her, despite the fact that he does. He didn’t know her for very long or very well, so there’s no point in missing her. Trevor did know Sonia and he does miss her, sometimes more than he can handle. Then the easiest excuse: it’s just another self-preservation tactic.

Out of this inner reflection comes an idea. It breaks tradition in a way. For the Belmonts and other Jewish families, everything is passed down through the mother��recipes, forms of worship, blood memories, centuries old tactics of bruising one’s knuckles and temples. Trevor doesn’t think this slight deviation from his culture’s norm will make him any less of what he’s always been. Mirele will simply have to pick up where he left off when she’s grown.

He doesn’t want to think about that now. She’s only five after all. One lesson at a time. 

“Alright. Gather round, pupils. The bread we’re making isn’t just any bread. Forget everything you know and everything you’ve been taught because this will be the closest thing to heaven you’ll ever taste.”

“How dramatic…” Sypha mutters under her breath. Alucard joins her amusement with a subdued chuckle. 

“I believe you were partially his influence.”

Trevor knows how much trouble he’ll be in if he puts Mirele through the most agonizing cruelty of waiting a second longer than necessary. Fearful of her pint-sized wrath, he gives everyone the order to start gathering ingredients: flour, eggs, honey, and some indulgent herbs to make this particular bread something special. As much of a strategic leader in the kitchen as he is when the world is coming to an end. With everything spread out on the countertops, Trevor guides his family step by step through the only recipe he remembers. He calls this bread “challah”, which Mirele immediately strains her freshly green vocal chords, trying to pronounce the word exactly as her father does. She quickly gives up and focuses on mixing the ingredients with an intense look—almost to a fault as bits of sloppy dough fly out of the bowl. Good. This enthusiasm is what Trevor wants to see.

Kneaded and allowed time to rise, the next step is the most important. Trevor divides the dough into four halves, then again, and again until each participant has their own handful of raw unbaked strips. 

“We have to braid them?” Mirele asks following his explanation. 

“That’s right. It’s what makes this bread different from all the rest.”

“Just like when papa let’s me braid his pretty hair!”

Every pair of eyes turns to Alucard, whose smile widens in that way which causes his eyes to shut tightly. Fangs happily bared as he pulls Mirele into his flour and dough covered arms while she giggles in delight. After they all return to work, her loaf turns out the same way as the braids she gives to him—lopsided, uneven, lacking a few outsticking stray hairs, but filled with affection and genuine resolve.

Three loaves are placed into the oven, including a fourth crudely constructed but still adequately done piece. Mirele is now more willing to play the waiting game—so she claims. Sitting in front of the oven while staring directly into its insides, utterly fascinated, oblivious to her surroundings. Unaware that her three parents are whispering behind her back. Eventually, Sypha has to gently pull her away with her bottom dragging along the kitchen floor.

“How about you and I do something a little more interesting while your fathers keep watch over things.”

“But what about the c… the calla!”

“Don’t worry, they will look after it. And we are not going far, my sweet.”

“We’ll make sure nothing burns down.” Trevor assures, despite it being Sypha who usually revels in cinders and ashes, intentionally or not.

The two retreat down the corridor past diamond shaped stained windows and into one of the manor’s smaller libraries where the cabinets reach the high ceiling painted in deep blue hues. Scattered from corner to corner are constellations of stars and midnight clouds obscuring each phase of the moon. Once when Alucard found Mirele curiously asleep atop a number of pillows when she should have been in her own bed, it was his decision to paint the library in new colours. Sypha moves aside an entire shelf of thick volumes as though trying to find a carefully hidden switch that will lead them into a secret chamber. It’s what Mirele hopes but turns mildly disappointed when the books do not in fact magically shift to reveal a stone passageway. Her soured anticipation is only countered when Sypha places a box on the desk.

“Can you guess what’s inside?”

“Is it treasure?”

“Close! You are almost right.” Sypha opens the lid just as Pandora did except there are no horrors, no evils to be wrought upon humanity. Mirele peeks inside and her eyes shine with the glistening silver of trinkets, pendants, and talismans. She resists the innate urge to reach her hands, still white with flour, into the box only to briefly experience the sensation of holding one between her fingers. Even children know when something is sacred.

“These belonged to your grandparents. They used them for protection and strength. A long time ago, before you were born, their home burned down and everything was destroyed.”

“Papa’s home?”

Sypha nods, grateful that this story now has its happy ending, slight as it may be. “However, when your other father started building the manor we live in, he found this box trapped amongst all the rubble. It managed to survive.”

“What do they say?”

Mirele points to one pendant molded in the shape of a sword. Inscribed along the curve of its ash-riddled blade are the Hebrew names of angels which must have been muttered by Sonia or Gabriel. The longer Mirele stares, attempting to decipher yet another new language, the brighter her cheeks grow red with frustration. Her mother acts quick just as her eyes begin to water. 

“It’s alright if you don’t understand what any of them say.”

“I can learn! Please, mama? I promise I’ll study really hard!”

Sypha’s lips curl as Mirele continues her begging. Oh the mind of a child. How quickly it changes.

--

The kitchen feels hotter, wafting through the air. Enveloping the room and everything caught between its walls. Trevor stands by the oven, a thick cloth ready in his hand. It shouldn’t take much longer. At least there’s no stench of something burning. Almost makes him pine for the days of his family’s massive stone oven and how he would sneak around at night and pick out leftover morsels from inside like an insatiable mouse. Not unlike the actual beasts which he hunted throughout the hallways before moving onto larger prey typical of a Belmonts’ work—or as large as his own runtish body mass could handle.

Minutes of quiet pass, still eyeing the loaves with a keen gaze. Trevor’s concentration soon broken by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his softening yet still robust midsection. Slow and careful, until his back is pressed against an equally broad chest.

“Can I help you?” He asks as Alucard buries his face into the curvature of his shoulder blades.

“You’re already helping.” The dhampir, unchanging in his physical appearance (a revelation both Trevor and Sypha refuse to acknowledge for the time being), tightens his embrace.

“Something wrong?”

“No… I just enjoy feeling how much softer and warmer you’ve become.”

Trevor’s cheeks blush ever so pinker and not because of the oven’s heat. By now he should be used to Alucard’s sudden bouts of outward affection.

“You even smell better.”

There it is. Trevor thought he would be waiting forever to hear that little jab, though said with nothing but a good heart.

“That might be the herbs you’re smelling.”

Alucard shifts around so that the two of them are side by side, cheek to cheek, as he chuckles in Trevor’s ear. “Come here.”

He doesn’t offer a kiss, not where Trevor was expecting. Instead of his lips, Alucard singles out every patch of stray flour on his face, kissing, wiping, even licking them clean. Cheek, jawline, and nose. Trevor’s expression twists into a ticklish, surprisingly delighted facade. 

“You’re a half vampire, not a cat.”

“Better to clean you now than later.”

“Always so fucking odd…”

“You love it.”

Much to his lucky stars, Trevor manages one curse mere seconds before Sypha and Mirele return. They let their daughter speak at a breakneck speed neither one can fully comprehend—something about silver pieces and whether they can teach her a new language—until one series of questions finally sticks.

“Is the bread ready yet? Can we eat it now? Can we please?”

Trevor placates Mirele by revealing the fruits of their joint hard earned labour: four freshly baked and perfectly shined challah loaves each representative of whoever did the braiding. She bounces in her chair before simmering down to an excited tremble once Trevor warns her of how they need to cool. In order to make this more of a meal, he rummages about in search of two other beacons from his childhood. He’s rewarded with one of the few fresh apples they have left while Sypha, ever in tune with his inner thoughts, grabs another small pot of honey for him.

Trevor thanks her by gently running his palm across her lower abdomen, over the growing bump. He keeps it there for just a second longer, a subtle gesture of love noticed by Sypha. Fingertips intertwined with each other, they join Alucard and Mirele at the table as the midday sun shines golden through the windows.

[spice-chan]

Runaway Omega

Katsu’s End .

Bakugo moved toward you in one stride, gulping worriedly as he looked you over.

You breathed out, feeling the pain dull and disappear.

“I’m fine now, but can you two try and not fight for one second ?”

Bakugo looked away and kissed his teeth, glaring at the ground. You hated how you recognized that as him being guilty and acknowledging his wrong.

You turned to Shoto, slightly remorseful at your coming request, but this has to be done in private.

“Sho, could you please let me talk to Bakugo alone?”

Shoto looked between you and Bakugo, his stare hardening as he tried to protest.

“But -“

“Shoto, I have to do this in private please.” You coaxed. He sighed in reluctance, bit gave in and pecked you, staring at Bakugo while he was at it and reveling in his jealousy rolling off in waves.

“Who the fuck is that ?” Bakugo asked. His anger seemed so evident with his clenched jaw and murderous red pools staring at you. He wasn’t shouting, but this was like a volcano, threatening to erupt and destroy everything in it’s wake.

“That’s Sho...my Alpha.” You said.

And erupt it did.

His face starting to show the semblance of his scales as patches of red starting appearing on his skin, his eyes got so black, it was like you were staring Thanatos in the eye.

He stalked towards you, barely able to contain his Alpha, as he urged him to do what he should have done years ago.

He grabbed your chin, tilting your head sideways to bare your neck to him as he leaned down and sniffed it. His growl near your ear was low, yet the barely there sound sent shivers down your spine.

“His stench is all over you.” He growled in distaste. He can smell that bastard all over you, and he was teetering on the edge of giving in to his urges and white, hot anger.

You pulled yourself together, willing yourself not to give in to his charm as you always had, with his tempting caramel scent, daring you to pluck the apple and take a bite. But the sweetness of the forbidden fruit is nothing but ethereal, while sweet, it was never everlasting.

You pushed him away. Stammering out with a flushed face , “ why do you care anyway ? I could have an Alpha, or two if I wish to, lasting time I checked, I wasn’t wanted by you.”

Her biting words brought sadness upon him. He is the reason they are where they are, the reason his Omega had to go through her pregnancy alone, or rather, with that wretched Alpha.

Bakugo cupped the back of your head and brought you into a warm embrace, his arms caging around you.

“Bak-“

“It’s Katsuki ! Always has been and always will be !” He shouted, still keeping you in his caramel and firewood scented embrace.

“I never meant any of it ...God, a few days after I was back at your door, sniffing around for your scent like a starved dog.” He choked at. Your heart clenched at the sight of his tear stained eyes, the vermilion shining like rubies.

“You said what you did Katsuki...I can’t simply believe that you didn’t mean it, there must have been some truth in there.” You explained.

“NO!” He yelled.

He cradled your face in his hands, the face he worshipped for the better part of his life. The one that plagued his dreams, and sometimes even the cruelest of his nightmares.

“I -“ he suddenly got tongue tied, the words he left unspoken when he shouldn’t are at the tip of his tongue. “I love you (y/n), and I’m sorry I didn’t show it, but I’ll be damned if I leave you to some other Alpha, you’re mine, no one can change that.”

It’s not like Bakugo never said the L words to you before, but he kept it at minimum, due to his own biting nature, but also because of the incredibly happy, adorable expression you made every time that made him want to take on the world for. He was a simp for that expression, and he hated weakness. Now all he wanted was to see it again.

Your expression was troubled.

“Katsuki, you said I’m beneath you, so why am I suddenly important to you ? I won’t let you play me like a fiddle and then toss me like I’m worthless when you’re angry.” You said, maintaining your resolve.

Katsuki looked like he was about to protest, when you firmly reminded him.

“Besides, I have an Alpha, who always makes me feel cherished and loved. He’d never tell me I’m beneath him.”

Your words brought a mix of jealousy and self loathing through him. The male gritted his teeth, but even he knew, he had no right to be angry when he said that shit to her.

“Well, you should have talked to me.” He still tried to defend his stance though.

“What was there to say ?”

“Should of said you were leaving, that you didn’t want to be with me, that you were pregnant, fuck, you should have just said something !”

“Bakugo, you made it clear that you didn’t want me to be a part of your life, you don’t need someone distracting you ! You wanted me to leave you the fuck alone, so I did !”

Words that were left unsaid were tumbling out of your mouth, unburdening you with their weight.

“And I didn’t know I was pregnant until I left.”

A silence took over Katsuki, he knew you were right, but he’ll be damned if he lets you go, especially into the arms of another man. He loved you too much, and love was selfish.

He hugged your midsection, where the pup that’s a mixture of the two of you lied. He started purring, the familiar sound stirring up buried feelings.

Your Omega however, still didn’t respond to him.

“Shitty Omega, you think I’m going to let you leave me again ? No, no, no. I can’t let you and our pup leave me, I love you, and I will live our pup too, you just have to see the best in me one more time.”

You turned away, unable to look at his pleading eyes. You didn’t want to betray Shoto like that, but you hates how he pulled at your heartstrings, like a puppeteer, moving the strings how he wishes.

Bakugo refused to leave. He’s stayed, with the excuse of wanting to be there for his pup, which wasn’t entirely an excuse. He always feared how he might be as a father, but he couldn’t hell the joy at imagining a little pul of his own, with you. God, you looked angelic, he could only hope that the pup inherits your looks, so he could always see you in their.

.....

Shoto walked near the ocean, where he first met you, trying to destress.

Wishful thinking.

“SHOTO” a booming voice called out. Shoto looked startled for a second, until that transformed into disdain upon seeing the object of his hatred.

“What are you doing here ?” Shoto asked coldly.

“Shoto, why did you leave ?” Enji asked, not concealing the sorrow in his voice.

“Isn’t it obvious ?”

A silence enveloped them.

Enji swallowed, looking to the ground in remorse, the remorse that Shoto refused to believe his father harbored.

“You left because of me, but please Shoto, you need to come back.” Pleaded Enji.

“And why is that ?”

“Your mother Shoto, she’s very ill, and had been since you left.” Enji confessed, making Shoto’s heart drop.

His ...mother ?

But he got a grip on himself quickly. This could be a foil play to get him back willingly.

Sho scoffed, turning a scornful eye to the esteemed king Enji.

“And I should believe you because ?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you, you will never forgive yourself if your mother dies without seeing you.”

He was right. Shoto loved his mother too much for that.

But Shoto knows, he couldn’t bring you with him on this risky journey. His father might be lying, and he doesn’t want to think about it or imagine it but; he might hurt you.

“I am going to give the throne to either you or one of your brothers, then taking your mother to the West to find a suitable doctor.” Enji said. It was that serious huh ?

Shoto loved you, and could see himself spending the rest of his life with you but, if it puts your life at risk, then Shoto will gladly chose your happiness over his.

You were the companion that eased his loneliness, and he will be forever grateful to you for showing him the light in this darkened world.

.....

“So how did you find me ?” You asked Bakugo as you sat down in the living room with him, eating strawberries.

He smirked at that. If you thought you could hide, you were sourly wrong.

“I sent spies to each village, keeping an eye on any healers that don’t reside in the castle, or anyone that looks like you. You weren’t as discreet as you could have been.” He explained, then added.

“Plus, that women you helped wasn’t secretive, she ratted you out with the promise of money.”

Well damn, that one stung. Is that how she repays you ?

Bakugo took notice of your soured expression.

“That’s why I tell you to be careful, dumbass.” He reprimanded.

“I don’t regret it though, I wasn’t about to let someone die. And a mother at that.” You rebuttled, and he shrugged.

“And thats why you always get in trouble.”

You glared at him, but Bakugo just thought you looked like a kitten trying to growl. He reached out and pinched your cheek.

You were about to swat his hand away, when Shoto walked in the house, walking briskly into the living room.

He walked in, ignoring Bakugo’s growl, and made his way to you.

“Can we talk ?”

At the vague question, you nodded your head.

Bakugo growled to himself even more when he saw the two of you walk inside the bedroom, glaring at the door like it offended his ancestors, then snatching a strawberry and eating it with elongated canines.

.........

“(Y/n), you understand, right ?” Shoto asked worriedly.

You swallowed, then nodded sadly.

“Besides, I can’t be the father the pup deserves, the only father figure I have is potentially a danger to the both of you.”

At that, you nodded more firmly. You were still heart broken, the Alpha you got used to having everyday, the one you were slowly falling for, is leaving. But somehow, you had a feeling you’d be alright. It would be alright.

He had his reasons anyway, you couldn’t think of endangering your pup, and Shoto doesn’t think he is ready to be a father. He said he still loves you, probably always will, but he had a feeling this is for the best.

Shoto kissed you one last time, the sound resounding throughout the room as be deepened it. You could feel many emotions, but the thing you could feel most is the goodbye through the kiss. Maybe that’s why is was so passionate.

You broke it off when the sound of shattering plates echoed.

Shoto rolled his eyes, and gave you a peck and a hug, before walking to the door and stopping.

“(Y/n), do write me letters when you hear good news.” He said, giving you one last heartfelt smile, before turning the doorknob and walking out.

You laid on the bed, with a soured scent as you sighed.

You caressed your belly. Your bundle of joy would surely erase most the pain.

The door opened, and in your peripheral vision, you saw a tuft of blond hair and a scrunched up nose.

“What’s sup, dumbass ?”

Should you tell him ?

He sat down next to you, then took your hand and started purring to calm your nerves. Somehow, it worked.

You turned to him and smiled, reveling in his surprised face, which then erupted in a blush. You allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, and caressed the blush on his cheeks as you used to. The gesture brought butterflies to both parties.

“Well, I was dumped.”

Bakugo growled, ready to stand up and chase after the half n half bastard for several reasons, but he will begin with this.

But you held his arm, preventing him from moving.

“But it’s understandable.” You reasoned.

“But-“

“Katsuki.” You used that final tone that always let him know you were gravely serious.

Before he can attempt to be belligerent again, you halted him with a question.

“Katsuki, do you even want to be a father ? With me no less ?”

The question made a spark of anger go through him. If not you, then who else ?

He glared at you.

“Damn straight dumbass, if not you, then who else ? Don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

This made you laugh, surprising him. The hostility in his expression broke, making him huff and call you a weirdo.

“I can feel the connection between me and them, maybe it’s because a dragon can sense another, or maybe it’s the connection to my pup, but I know for a fact, I love our pup and I couldn’t wish for a better mother.”

The use of collective pronouns made you feel warm inside, like a journey you were set to take with the most joy filled of companions.

And in a few days time, you held Katsuki’s hand as your pup made it’s way to the world.

Katsuki walked in, his eyes drinking the sight of the pup in your arms with awe, it’s like he was falling all over again.

He walked in and sat beside you as you cooed at the little bundle of joy, a tony baby girl, with flaming red eyes that glistened like the finest rubies, and little tufts of (h/c) hair, the hair he always adored and wanted for his kids. You looked at him with a bright smile, one he wouldn’t trade for the world, and beckoned him closer.

Bakugo held the baby girl in his arms, unable to keep the bubble of affection that sprouted in his heart, and gushed out of his eyes as his love overfilled. He gave her a peck on the forehead, then another just to memorise the soft texture of her skin before she grows up before his eyes.

He then walked to the empty space on the bed, then climbed up and put the pup next to you, careful about moving you lest he elicit pain from the procedure you just underwent.

He went to climb out, but paused when his pup held his finger in her hand, toying with it as she swung it left and right in her tiny arms. He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face as he gazed at her tiny face curiously toying with his finger.

“Aw, she’s so perfect, isn’t she Katsuki ?” You gushed, purring at you baby girl as you caressed her head. Her eyes traveled up to your own hand, then her other hand went and grasped your own finger. She did the same to you as she did Katsuki, then with both of her occupied hands, she brought them together, making your finger touch Katsuki’s own larger one.

You gazed at her mindless actions with awe, both of you unable to take your fingers out of her toying hands and risk losing the contact. Her actions held so much meaning, like she was trying to communicate something despite you knowing it’s not true. Katsuki had a similar thought process. He decided to stop being a pussy and act like the Alpha he is.

“Well, if that’s what the pup wants, I guess you have no choice now.” He said. You looked back at the girl with love, then to Katsuki, and shrugged.

“Guess I have no choice, you’re lucky our baby girl decided to be your wing man.”

Giving Katsuki a chance to prove himself again seemed like the right choice.

Katsuki came closer to you, making you close your eyes as your lips joined in a familiar dance.

The little pup watched her parents curiously, her doe eyes staring at them in obliviousness as she resumed toying with their fingers.

............

And thats it, the end. I decided to publish this on here on a whim, so here we are, tho im gonna get to working on a masterlist in a bit. If you enjoyed this mini series and wish to buy me a coffee, my kofi is T_Spice.

[previouslynebraskan]

Why humans are assholes

Hi, my pen name is Gwendolyn, and welcome to my TED talk on empathy

*side note, I suck at writing, and my train of thought is derailed frequently.  So buckle up, and I’ll be surprised if you make it with me to the end, as we don’t know organization.

First off, I’ll disclaim something terrible about myself.  I’m a Christian.  Even worse.  I’m a rosary rattler.  A Catholic!  Oh and you thought it couldn’t get worse?  I’m not even a good one.  God and I are only on speaking terms when I need him (which is pretty frequent, but not the point).  Church feels like an obligation most weeks, and just because I know the rules and believe in the rules, doesn’t mean that I follow them.  

Alrighty!  Terrible things out of the way.  Let’s begin.  Humans are assholes.  Most people, especially the population of Tumblr, will agree with me.  Between human atrocities, selfishness, and down right lack of care, humans are just assholes.  I am too.  I am human.  Ask my siblings.  Like any good older sister, I wanted nothing to do with my siblings, and when forced to see them at school, I was unprecedently mean to them.  Ask my husband.  I am ridiculously selfish, and only do things when it suits me.  And yet, there is an entire history of the human race, with worse individuals than myself.  And a lot of people might see that, and think, cool, I feel better about myself, because I’m not Hitler.  I feel better about myself because I wasn’t a member of the KKK.  Well, personally, I don’t.  The next disclaimer I am going to make about myself, I’m a self-diagnosed empath.  I’ve never been to a therapist.  I don’t currently have plans to either, but I’ll let God decide that path later.  The reason I bring this up, and the reason I mentioned my religion at the beginning, is because I truly believe that if not for my first disclaimer, my second might not exist.  

I am a crier.  And I get annoyed at criers.  But I don’t cry at reasonable things.  No.  I cry at other people’s feelings.  Let’s bastardize the golden rule real quick.  For those who are unaware, “Treat others how you want to be treated.”  Now, I’m sure many people recall going through a phase where they could translate that in their still learning brains to “I can treat people however I want because I wouldn’t care if they were that way to me.”  Now back to the golden rule.  The bastardization is, put yourself in someone else’s shoes.  How many of us got told this by their parents at a young age after not playing nicely with another kid?  Apparently, God took it upon Himself to write that verse on my heart.  And it went something like this:  I cried when my mother told me that her grandmother (whom I had only met twice and had no actual recollection of) died.  I was inconsolable when my grandfather died.  So much so that even now, almost fifteen years later, it still stops me in my tracks, my heart hurts so much.  I cried when Michael Jackson died.  I didn’t really even like his music that much.  I’ve cried at almost every movie I’ve ever seen.  My sister’s speech at my wedding included the moment where she had to chaperone me on a date with my then boyfriend, and we went to Frozen.  Now yes, I cried at the scene when her parents die in the shipwreck.  But it gets worse.  Elsa is out there, just ran away, no plans for shelter yet apparently, and she begins to break out into song.  At first I’m fine.  But then I can feel my heart, as she sings, “well now they know.”  I start bawling my eyes out.  And all I can give in response to my sister’s quizzical look of “What the fuck is wrong with you???” (Yes I cursed, I told you, not one of the good ones. Fuck off), was: “She’s just so happy!”  I wouldn’t necessarily say I was sad at that time.  But I could feel the relase that an animated character was expressing on the big screen.  I could feel the weight come off of her shoulders, and I cried.  I mourned for what she went through, but shed tears of joy that she had found peace.  Tonight.  I was watching Facebook videos instead of taking care of my nightly routine of getting ready for bed.  And a Mengele twin told her story of survival.  When she mentioned looking around for her father and older sisters, I felt that.  When she said she could still see her mother’s outstreched arms, I could see that.  When she mentioned the panic of trying to save her sister years after liberation, trying to find records of what was done to them, her rage and anger.  And then her forgiveness.  Do you know how strong someone has to be in order to forgive?  To let go of the pain in your heart, knowing you’ll never get revenge.  You’ll never get an answer.  And you just let it go?  That strength is super human.  This week, as we pass the 20th anniversary of the tragedy of 9/11, my hometown did a wonderful commemoration.  I cried.  My aunt gave me a look of disgust because I was crying, again.  I cried not only for those who lost their lives, but for their families who would never be whole, for the heroes who stepped up, then and now.  I am a proud Navy wife.  My husband is out sacrificing his time, so that I don’t have to.  And so that I can worship my stupid religion that I cling to, so I can walk around saying inappropriate words and wear not enough clothing.  But he made that choice.  There are a lot who didn’t.  Earlier this week, someone posted the transcription of the phone call of flight 93.  The moment that he said that the passengers wanted to sacrifice their lives, for the sake of our country, I hurt.  And then he asked the person on the other end of the line to pray.  Another video this week, an ex soldier, who fought early on in Afghanistan was telling a story about one of his soldiers.  They were getting ready for a raid that would likely kill them.  His soldier asks, I know we signed up to fight, but why are we doing this?  The man’s response was, for the people up in that tower who didn’t.  He goes on to explain the story of a young mother. Two kids.  Went to work like any other day, and her last attempt at human decency was to hold her skirt down as she jumped out of the burning tower, so the people below couldn’t see up her skirt.  

Crpl. Page was a Marine from my state who just passed away.  He was two years younger than me.  I never knew him.  But I grieve for his family and friends.  

See the worst part about being an empath in a world where human’s are assholes, is there’s never a shortage of people’s feelings to feel.  I’ve been told that you can experience an emotion so strongly that your body’s only reaction to the volume of what it feels is to cry.  And that resonates with me.  I feel joy to such an extreme when I’m with my family, celebrating time together.  I feel the sorrow of people missing loved ones, and their hearts breaking.  And there are times when I wonder if it’s a gift? Or if it’s a curse.  It’s a gift to be able to go to someone and say, I can feel for you and your situation.  I don’t feel sorry for you.  I feel your pain as though it were my own. But it’s a curse to feel the attrocities of humanity and just sit and wonder why it had to happen.  Why it had to come to this.   I got told I was crying for attention.  I wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. Supposedly, behavioral psychology could “fix me” if I wanted it.  I could be trained to control my emotions, and process them in a way that wasn’t so consuming.  It would definetly help my self diagnosed depression.  But let’s posit that God made me this way for a reason.  He gave me this gift with a purpose in mind.  What then?  The problem is, I don’t know how to effectively use it without letting it ruin my life.  I can never be a therapist, because I would be able to take on the feelings of my clients.  And while I do very much believe in tough love, I also belive that if you just have the right push in the right direction, great changes can be made.  Would the Holocaust have happened if Hitler had  better relationship with his mother? (this is a personal piece, I am reflecting on history classes I haven’t taken since high school.  I’m not fact checking this. Don’t at me.)  Would Columine have taken place if those kids had been in a better place mentally?  

You know what the awful thing is...? Look at all of these events.  Look at all of these heart wrenching dates in history.  And then look what came out of them.  Out of 9/11 came one of the most unified fronts America has had in a long time.  Out of World War II came men of valor.  A chemical reaction occurs when you take an object, and force it to experience a high degree of change.  And that is what gives us assholes grit.  Our experiences make us tougher, and make us better.  And maybe less of a crybaby in my case.  Or more of a cyborg who doesn’t experience emotion for fear of being consumed by them. 

Ramble is over.  For those of you who persisted and tried to keep up, good job and I’m sorry.  For those who didn’t, don’t worry, I wouldn’t blame you.  

Some effort is better than none at all, and if all you are capable of is existing today, then I hope you do, and I know you will do it beautifully.

[supertvngames]

Naruto AU - Shuji Uchiha Scenarios Part 1

Shuji Uchiha is the adoptive brother of Naruto Uzumaki. And the half-brother of Sasuke Uchiha and Itachi Uchiha from their mother’s side, and half-brother Shisui Uchiha from their father’s side. And as well as my OC.

-Pre OS-

Mikoto Uchiha adopted Naruto but has to move out of the Uchiha Distract and into the late 4th Hokage Minato and his wife Kushina’s with the newborn child. Over a while, an Uchiha man was given permission to help Mikoto. The Uchiha man is the father of Shisui Uchiha. They accidently conceive a child, the child was named Shuji. Weeks after Shuji was born, his birth father died.

While growing up, Shuji had a big brother worship towards Shisui as Sasuke towards Itachi. Shuji and Sasuke tend to argue who’s the better big brother, Shisui or Itachi. However out of all his big brothers, Shuji actually favors Naruto because Naruto took the time to listen to him and play with him. Shuji is also seem patient with Itachi than Sasuke is. Even if Shuji likes Shisui better, he looks up to Itachi. And Shuji even considers Sasuke to be most relatable.

Shuji even met Izumi, Itachi’s lover. Shuji sees Izumi as a big sister-figure, mainly due to Shuji not being as stingy as Sasuke especially when it comes to Itachi.

Shuji is practically a mama’s boy, he is always seen with his mother Mikoto. Shuji learn about not just cooking and cleaning, but learn about Mikoto’s fighting skills at a very high level. Mikoto is a role-model to Shuji.

Shuji doesn’t get along with his stepfather Fugaku. Mainly due to Fugaku not being the type to open up his feelings and being a hardass.

Shuji, in-person, witness the death of his mother Mikoto and his big sister-figure Izumi in the hands of Itachi. Naruto was staying for afterschool after a prank gone messy. Shuji and Sasuke found each other as they see Itachi, as he spares them seeing the potential of them obtaining the Mangekyou Sharingan. Both Shuji and Sasuke try to fight off Itachi yet they had no progression. Shuji had to break down the news to Naruto about Mikoto’s demise.

Shuji did his best to enter the academy, to be with his remaining siblings, so he wouldn’t be alone at the house. He was then accepted.

Shuji tries to convince Sasuke to move into his and Naruto’s house because they’re family, and they’re all that’s left for each each other. Sasuke, however, prefer to live in an apartment, to which Shuji visits to keep his half-brother company and see how he’s doing. They train from time to time.

Shuji along with Naruto have been oppressed and discriminated by the Konoha villagers. Shuji has notice that this has happened before the Uchiha massecre, however now, it’s more nasty. Shuji simply doesn’t understand why they hate him and his big brother but he definitely wish the villagers are dead.

While with Naruto, Shuji noticed a girl who has been looking from afar. The girl was Hinata Hyuga. To Shuji, she seems rather cute and nice. Shuji encourages Hinata to come and hang with him and Naruto. Shuji even noticed another girl, Hinata’s little sister Hanabi Hyuga, to which both Naruto and Shuji convinced her to stick around as well.

Shuji helps Naruto train, especially when it comes to preforming the ordinary beginner jutsus.

Shuji does make time to make food and clean, and Naruto does his share as well since the two are working together.

-Original Series-

Shuji and Sasuke may have hold resentment towards Itachi for what they did to their parents and clan. However, Shuji wants to put the revenge mission on hold. After all, there’s nothing they can do for right now. Both he and Sasuke had some disagreements. Yet they still train together.

When Shuji sees that Naruto failed the graudation exams, he purposely funk himself so they could be ninjas another time. Shuji simply doesn’t want to leave his big brother’s side, until Naruto told Iruka that Shuji failed the graudation on purpose because he knows that they need the money.

When first meeting Konohamaru Sarutobi, Shuji thought he was some sort of strange kid even for the grandson of the 3rd Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi. Shuji, like Naruto, began to befriend Konohamaru. Naruto and Shuji played with Konohamaru, Moegi, and Udon. Even invite Hanabi after convincing Hiashi that she needs to stimulate her mind in order to be an effective fighter. It’s the only way to have her live her life better.

Instead of a three-man squad, it’ll be four-man squad for each team: Team 7 - Naruto, Shuji, Hinata, & Sasuke Team 8 - Kiba, Shino, Sayuri, & [A new girl character, a non-clan one] Team 10 - Ino, Shikamaru, Choji, & [A new girl character, possibly a Sarutobi] Same could be said for Team Guy/Gai, and two more teams in the same year as them. One team would have three girls and one boy, both teams have females senseis

Shuji overheard some girl’s talk about Naruto, how she is badmouthing him as an orphan. Shuji pummels Sher to the ground. Enraged that someone is making of his brother after he and Shuji lost their mother.

When seeing he’s on the same team as his brothers and the girl he loves, Shuji was rather happy that they got to stick together. Shuji can fight along side with his relatives and his love, he reassures Hinata that they can all protect each other, they all have each other’s back. Yet, Shuji couldn’t help himself to protect Hinata (and his brothers).

When visiting the Hyuga District to pick up Hinata, Naruto and Shuji get violently angry at Hiashi for badmouthing his own daughter Hinata, being stopped by Kakashi. Hearing Hiashi says that Hinata is a “failure” and that the Hyuga, Shuji remarks that if she was a failure, she’d be taking after him, a lousy good-for-nothing selfish man who is nothing more than someone who brought two girls into the world only to refuse to take responsibility as a father.

After seeing Hinata having a bad situation at her household, Shuji offers to invites Hinata to his and Naruto’s house, at least dinner so he could cook, maybe once every afternoon as a getaway and to get to know each other.

There are times in B rank missions that Shuji ends up in trouble to which Hinata comes to his aid, although, Shuji isn’t upset. Shuji is, in fact, happy to see Hinata becoming stronger and more confident.

Shuji would even help out Naruto and Sasuke from danger as well, especially if it seems over his head, yet he doesn’t want to bear losing his only family he has left.

Shuji would grow from 1 tomoe at the early of the original series, to 1-&-2 tomoe, then 2 tomoe at the middle, later 2-&-3 tomoe, and then fully mature 3 tomoe at the end of the original series.

Shuji did run into Orochimaru at a different place and time, possibly on a mission soon before the Chunin Exams arc with a mix members on Shuji’s part. However, unlike with Sasuke who woke with the power up, Shuji woke up yet he is technically dying but manage to fight on.

It was until later on, Shuji was at death’s door compare to Sasuke when receiving the Curse Mark, until something alerting happens to either of his brothers or Hinata. Shuji finally overcomes the mark’s effects on him and began to have a murderous anger.

When Shuji sees how horrible Neji went through, being enslaved with a mark that can kill you, losing a parent, all that at such a young age. All the while, Shuji holds a grudge against Neji for looking for an opportunity to kill Hinata, yet Shuji still sympathize Neji.

Shuji sees that Gaara, like his big brother Naruto, a special power (although, it’s the power of a Tailed Beast) to which his own village fears and hates him for something that can’t be helped, yet also sees that Gaara got it worse than him and Naruto especially since he has his own father trying to kill him, unable to communicate with his siblings properly. Shuji pities Gaara.

After the Invasion on Konoha by Suna and Oto, Shuji’s speech patterns became more aggressive, especially after the mark reactivates. In Japanese, at first, Shuji’s 1st person pronoun was “Boku”, then it became “Ore”, to show how aggressive Shuji became.

Shuji begins to see that things between him and Hinata aren’t going anywhere. He sees Hinata showing more visible affections towards Naruto.

Shuji and Neji are having a rocky relationship. Until later on, when Hinata becomes temporarily blind, seeing Neji took care of her and even go out to help her condition, Shuji finally fully forgives and trusts Neji, and even tells Neji what’s on his mind, which is vowing that he will find a way to free him and the Side Branch family.

When he and Sasuke heard that Itachi return, and is after his big brother Naruto, Shuji was scared and furious. By the time he and Sasuke run into Hinata, Shuji explains to her on the way that Naruto is in danger and that they need to find Naruto as quickly as possible.

Shuji have to remind Sasuke that they have to run away with Naruto and nothing more, they can’t take on Itachi since he did defeat Kakashi. By the time, they did met up with Itachi, Shuji tries to think of how to escape with Naruto, only to see Sasuke charges at Itachi with a Chidori with Shuji thinking “What a dumbass”. Shuji tries to help Sasuke out but Itachi beats the crap out of Shuji and put him in a coma as well.

By the time both Shuji and Sasuke woke up from their coma, like Sasuke, Shuji became different than he was before. Shuji became rather moody, bitter, and has guilt. The encounter with Itachi and Kisame haunts him. He, his brothers, and Hinata were in a no-way-out situation to which they all could get killed. Shuji tries to rationalize and justify his failure only to see the fact he wasn’t good enough. Shuji finally begins to see why Sasuke couldn’t put the revenge mission on hold, so Shuji then train with Sasuke more than ever.

Naruto and the others began to see Shuji is becoming more and more bitter after each mission and those missions was that they either failed or even success through dumb luck. Especially since he and Naruto seen the suffering and unfortunate events in different places. Shuji ask them how many times they are going to get beaten before they wise up and they realize that being a ninja isn’t a game. Think of Leo from TMNT 2003 Season 4, I admit he was a jerk but he has his reasons.

When Kakashi told Shuji let go of his revenge like Shuji did once before he was put into a coma. Shuji told him that he didn’t let go, he put it on hold, and that Itachi plan to take his older brother Naruto away from him. Shuji already lost his mother, his big sister figure Izumi, and eldest brother Shisui, he not planning to let Itachi go around free. Kakashi tells him that he too lost his loved ones and he only look into the past. However, unlike Sasuke, Shuji doesn’t buy it, his response is “you no longer seek retribution? You dishonor your loved ones. I will honor the memory of my fallen”.

Well, that’s it for the scenarios for Shuji Uchiha for now. I might have more plans for him, some I having a bit of a mix feeling, but I’ll discuss them another time. Until then, see ya.

[kadomoni]

I always thought I might be bad, now I’m sure that it’s true…

I really can’t tell you what to think of Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz. I can’t. It’s something you have to decide for yourself, but I’m going to explain why she’s one of my favorite characters of the show, but I also think she is the villain.

Now, I know what Pink Stans are saying, “She’s not the villain! She’s morally grey and trying to change!” And, to that I say, yes clearly. She’s an incredibly well-written, nuanced, and complex character. But, as much as she has done good, she has also done very, very bad. And, I’m here to explain why I think Pink is not evil—she’s just bad (and she knows it).

There is no doubt about it that Pink was raised in an abusive family. White is a pretty typical narcissistic parent (over-reliance on perfectionism, wanting people to please her and be like her but no one ever living up to her expectations, trouble with empathy, ect.). Yellow and Blue love Pink but have no idea how to raise her. That’s pretty typical of dysfunctional family dynamics. None of them had a good role model, so they can only replicate a bad role model.

I understand this dynamic. I had a “mother figure” who was very emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive. My parents were nice and good parents but they had anger issues. I went from being petulant to shutting down, but I think I fit more into a Pearl archetype because instead of acting out my pain, I kept it inside and felt like it was me that was wrong. Pink does this, but not before causing a lot of issues, and often exploding outwards.

((Major Steven Universe/Future Spoilers under the cut))

We’ll start with what we know about Pink, which is very limited.

The first “memory” we have from her is the astral projection dream Stevonnie had where she threw a tantrum about wanting a colony. It was childish, yes, but Yellow response was no better considering she just yelled at her. They both threw tantrums, and no doubt, she was going to get locked up in her tower after. Pink got angry, she punched a mirror (hopefully, she’d only punched mirrors, please, Rebecca, don’t hurt me like this).

Secondly, we have the dream Steven had about Blue, who begged Pink to stop being combative and letting her “organics” loose, but ultimately just ended up admonishing her further. It’s also implied that she had her stay in the tower room.

Also, that tower is even more fucked up than just isolation. @singlepalerose​ explains this in her meta that Gems need light to live, not food. Rebecca says in an interview when asked that she “can’t say” what would happen if put in a place with no light. But, @singlepalerose​ comes to the conclusion that this might be literally akin to starvation, which is torture. There’s a good chance that Pink was literally tortured by her care-givers.

And, poor Pink Pearl. I don’t know what happened, but whether it was a scream or some physical altercation, it was frightening enough that she broke her pearl so badly, it couldn’t be repaired, which as seen in RS’s concept drawings, Pink is really fucked up by this. She becomes more introverted with her feelings because of this.

                                                          Don’t Break This One.

I’m not going to comment on whether these actions make her “bad” or “abusive.” She was clearly a child in an emotionally maladaptive environment, and she did decide to change and to keep her anger and frustration internalized at the risk of harming the people around her.

But, unfortunately, the information after this is where I begin to feel disturbed by Pink’s actions.

She got a colony. At first, she liked it, but clearly, she either grew bored or disenchanted with managing it. I feel as though she was expecting some sort of freedom, when really, the extra responsibilities probably just weighed her down even more.

The events of ‘A Single Pale Rose’ come into play now. Pearl suggested they go down to Earth, and Pink felt her first taste of unrestrained freedom. She liked interacting with other gems, liked interacting with humans, and finally decided that she didn’t want to destroy the Earth. And, she did beg all the Diamonds to let her give up the colony, but not only had Pink kinda shot herself in the foot with this one because she begged so hard for a colony and made so many big scenes about it, White and Yellow are incredibly steadfast in tradition and rules, and this wasn’t going to fly.

So, she decided to take drastic action.

I personally think that the idea to fake her own death was…weird. And, pretty extreme. I understand her reasoning, but this was the first time where she made a decision that benefited her far more than it did others (and I’m not talking about the planet right now because that’s a whole separate thing). This action traumatized Pearl to the point where she doesn’t eat, won’t shapeshift, and can’t talk about it. Yes, I know she commanded Pearl not to talk about it, but this caused significant emotional distress for her later on in the series.

This also traumatized the whole gem race, specifically the Diamonds, because she’d framed it as a terror attack. It would be way different if she stood up to White herself publicly, but there was so much deception going on that it fundamentally changed the course of Gem Culture and the fate of the Earth. Mostly what bothers me here is how manipulative this action was and how unnecessarily complex it was. Pink did everything she could to wipe her slate clean, be seen as a martyr of Gemkind, and also live freely on Earth.

It was a very good way to get her freedom, but it was also extremely harmful to all parties involved.

The War only escalated at this point. They had to fight Homeworld as a full-on army, and countless of gems were shattered.

Now, yes, of course, these actions saved the Earth, which is good in our perspective because we live on Earth. Earth is essential to us because it is our only frame of reference. But, something that continually complexed the Homeworld gems was why someone would fight for one measly planet at the cost of so much. It makes sense to us because we would sacrifice a whole heck of a lot to keep our planet from being invaded by space aliens, but the gems were colonizing tons of planets and destroying them for energy. It was obviously horrible as colonizers are horrible, but it’s sort of like how different armies will invade other countries, but because we’re being told that it’s for good, most people don’t really care.

From the gem’s perspective, this was all a horrible disaster—a loss of countless life, resources, and pride.

And, for The Crystal Gems, the “loss” of the war meant that all of their friends were corrupted, except Rose’s closest friends (which I’m personally unsure if this is completely truthful. I would hope it would be, but it’s also very suspicious because letting only the people that trust her the most survive would make it easier to control her own story).

Speaking of which, wtf is up with her bubbling Bismuth? It just feels like it would be easier to hide her away instead of trying to explain why she doesn’t want to shatter the Diamonds. But, Rose shattered Pink, anyway? I personally believe Bismuth was too close to figuring out her story, and she didn’t know what to do. I can’t think of any other explanation that would explain her actions and make sense with telling the Crystal Gems she’d been shattered. It feels very manipulative and selfish.

All of this obviously traumatized Pearl (we see it in her Pearl within a Pearl within a Pearl), and it had to have traumatized Garnet considering her reactions to mentions of the war and the “fusion” experiments. It was especially bad on Garnet’s end because she thought the war was actually what Rose said it was, which is why she freaked out when it wasn’t.

She kept secrets from everyone, even Her Pearl. But, Pearl didn’t know that she didn’t know everything. You could call Pearl delusional, but I think this is more proof that Rose never did something in front of her that made her feel like she was being untruthful.

And, I said y’all don’t want to get me started on Rose’s treatment of Pearl because I go feral when I get worked up about it. I would like to personally thank @theroguefeminist​ for their meta on Rose/Pearl and Fandom Ableism. It’s super good, and it was the meta that made me finally sit down and watch all of SU way back in the day. But, it illustrates the point that fandoms tend to look down on characters that act “bitter,” “weak,” “jealous,” “depressed,” or “neurotic.” It’s even more sinister because the reason why Pearl acts the way she does in the first two seasons is because she’d been manipulated by Rose.

She was Pink’s Pearl, her partner in crime, her renegade. They were the Heroes of The Rebellion. Pearl admitted she had feelings for her, and Rose’s response was enthusiastic (“Don’t ever stop!”). From what we’ve seen, the disregard of her feelings only began when she started dating Greg, considering Pearl didn’t see “the men who came into her life now and again” as threats because they “didn’t really matter until [him].” But, the treatment that we see of Pearl in “Story for Steven” and “We Need to Talk” is dismissive at best and cruel and uncaring at the worst.

After Greg was trying to flirt with Rose, Pearl said defensively, “I can sing!” and they laughed at her. Even Rose beamed. They were basically making fun of her when Pearl was only reacting that way because she loved Rose and felt threatened by Greg, even at this point.

I do want to add that I think Rose was trying to be a good person by telling Greg to go away. She made a good point that he shouldn’t give up on his dreams to be with her (especially considering that she knew that nothing would become of him in a place like Beach City). But, she was wooed by him. She laughed and gave into her instincts to surround herself with people who look up to her (even Vidalia said something about how Greg worships her).

But, I find Rose’s treatment of her in “We Need to Talk” to be unnecessarily flippant. Obviously, Pearl was very upset during the whole “What Can I Do For You?” song, and her last ditch effort was to show off Rainbow Quartz and try to belittle his efforts, but Greg was rightly defensive. This doesn’t mean Pearl was being “salty” or “abusive” or “bitchy.” She was reacting negatively towards the emotional neglect that Rose was showing her. Of course, we don’t know every interaction that Pearl and Rose had, but it’s very heavily implied that Rose never communicated with Pearl how their relationship was developing.

I do not, I repeat—I DO NOT—think that Pearl was owed Rose’s love. What I think is neglectful about this situation is that Rose didn’t either apologize or properly explain the nature of their relationship. It’s implied that Rose made her believe they were an item and then proceeded to sleep around and eventually find an alternative partner. No one is owed affection with someone who doesn’t want to be romantically involved, but to lead someone on for thousands of years is horrible, and the idea makes me nauseous, especially since the fandom is more likely to blame Pearl even though Pearl was literally her glorified slave and only able to break out of that thought process years after Steven was born.

Pearl was so emotionally fucked up by Rose’s possible emotional neglect that she had several traumatic episodes starting from “Indirect Kiss” and culminating in her “Cry for Help.” She literally believed she was powerless and felt so weak that she thought the only way to feel agency was to manipulate and extort affection from Garnet. I’m also not defending Pearl for doing this, but it’s clear that she did this because she was mentally ill and not because she was knowingly or maliciously disregarding Garnet���s feelings to fulfill her own needs. Trauma episodes often cause you to act in destructive ways towards yourself and others, but it’s also very different from how Rose did disregard the feelings of others to get her way, or have fun, or “play” with people.

It also reminds me of her treatment of Spinel. Pink was having fun with Spinel until they decided to give her a colony, and then, instead of bringing Spinel with her or sending her back to the Diamonds, she told her to stay there, and she abandoned her for 6,000 years with no plans of returning for her. To be fair, it would really mess up the Crystal Gem dynamic if she suddenly returned with a Spinel who was gifted to Pink Diamond. So, in Rose’s perspective, I get it, but as myself, I don’t think it’s right.

Greg, even, I think was taken advantage of. He’s so sweet and trusting and good that she would easily have been able to get him to do anything. I’m not going to go too much into this because there’s not too much evidence besides her behavior towards him in “Greg the Babysitter” and how she laughed at him in “We Need to Talk.” I just have the feeling that Greg knows something that no one else does and that his perma-sunburn might have something to do with Rose and/or Steven’s conception. Don’t take my word for it since this is just a theory, but I do think there’s something we don’t know yet.

Alright, now that most of the character stuff is out of the way, let’s talk Rose symbolism. In almost every episode, there’s a shot of Rose’s portrait with her eyes covered or something obscuring them. This is classic anime imagery of a suspect character, and it’s foreshadowing of her suspect actions. All of her organic experiments eventually go rouge without constant maintenance from Rose (see: the moss in “Lars and the Cool Kids,” the thorns in “Indirect Kiss”). We don’t know why this happens, but it points to the idea that there’s something malignant lurking underneath Rose’s creations.

Rose’s Room also has disturbing implications. The fact that it gives Steven whatever he wants, but more often than not, it turns into psychological horror is telling. It may be that Steven just doesn’t know how to use the room, but also, the Gems didn’t want him to go in there. (“It doesn’t know how to handle a task like that!” What do you know, Pearl????) The creepiest one, in my opinion, was how the Fake Connie he made in “Open Book” eventually turned on him, attacked him, and basically physically forced him to admit feelings he wanted to keep hidden. I’m not saying this is the intended purpose of the room, but I find it troubling that it can be used in this way and defaults to it when there isn’t anything stopping it. It could also be that when the illusion the room makes is broken that it reverts to an angry (and dare I say Pink Diamond-esque) temperament.

My final point is how her decision to have Steven, even though eventually for good, hurt many people, Steven included. To make the decision to die and have a kid was confusing to everyone, but more so, the gems. They don’t understand human reproduction outside of a biological level, and the fact that gems normally can’t sexually reproduce makes the concept even more foreign. It seems like she explained that she was doing it and would die but didn’t fully prepare the gems about what that would entail. I think this is most clearly seen in “Three Gems and a Baby” because the Crystal Gem’s behavior towards baby Steven reflected Pearl’s response to emotional neglect, such as acting impulsively and dangerously just for not understanding the complexities of the situation.

Their whole dynamic was screwed up, and they all felt deeply hurt by Rose’s death. If you compare how they act at the beginning of the series to the end, they were basically all at each other’s throats because they couldn’t communicate properly due to all the undealt with baggage that had been left behind. It ended up becoming Steven’s job to emotionally support the gems when he should have been the one being emotionally supported. This imbalance of “the parents being the child” and “the child being the parents” is a huge reason why we see Steven in such emotional distress during Future. He’s internalized the idea that he should be the leader, the supporter, the helper, and he hasn’t properly been able to find his own identity because Rose looms over all of them (see: “Rose Buds”).

It’s hard to say whether Rose intentionally left Steven to clean up her mistakes or if she just felt like he could fix it all when she couldn’t, but there is no denying that Rose’s actions have seriously messed up our boy. This is the clearest theme presented in the show, so I’m not going to go super hard on this topic because basically the whole show is Steven angsting over his mom.

So, the point of all of this is that, yes, Pink was abused. There is no doubting that she was very badly abused and developed her personality and coping mechanisms due to this trauma. However, Rose has hurt her friends, family, and gemkind due to her actions. A lot of abusers have been abused. I know my abuser was abused in the same way I was, but that doesn’t give her an excuse to enact that abuse on me. It’s the same as Rose. Her bad upbringing gives context about why she turned out the way she did, but it’s incredibly short-sighted to say that Rose acted in mostly good ways towards others.

And, she knows she’s bad. Whether or not Rebecca will outright admit what the song is about, we have enough context to know that “Love Like You” is Rose talking to Greg (if not the other gems as well).

“I always thought I might be bad Now I’m sure that it’s true ‘cause I think you’re so good And, I’m nothing like you

Look at you go I just adore you I wish that I knew What makes you think I’m so special”

Rose is admitting that she thinks she’s bad and isn’t special and doesn’t understand what Greg sees in her. She knows she’s done bad things, but in my opinion, she didn’t do enough to fix her problems. She made Steven instead. It was her final act of avoidance. Maybe she gave up on herself. Maybe she knew she couldn’t “Love Like You.” I don’t know the answer to that. I just know that Rose’s actions were abusive. She’s not good. She’s morally gray. She did good things, but she did many bad things as well. She’s not evil, but she is the series’ antagonist. She has good things about her, but she has many bad things as well. People can be two things. But, saying she’s not an abuser is making excuses for her behavior.

Here are my answers to a few common complaints on my shitpost meme.

Q: Rose didn’t want to cause war! She just wanted to free the planet/have freedom/save the gems, ect. A: If she didn’t want to cause war, she very well could have…not started the war? There are much less destructive options than pretending to be a rebel when she really was a Diamond. The double life thing is so ridiculous, no one in the show could even guess it. Q: Don’t discredit her Rebellion! A: I just think she cared more about herself than she actually did the Earth. The Rebellion did save the Earth, but not without crazy death and destruction. Q: Pink was good compared to Japser, the Diamonds, Lapis, ect. A: All of you saying that those other characters are bad while Rose is good totally misses the point. All those characters did abusive things. So did Rose/Pink. Pink is good and bad. It’s really showing your ass that you hate x, y, z but will cape for Pink even though she’s probably caused the most harm of the entire series. Whatever happened to all those morally grey arguments?

Q: This take is bad! A: soz bruh cry harder Q: This is black and white thinking. A: I shouldn’t have to explain every aspect of a character in a shitpost. This meta is my full explanation, so here’s my morally grey meme uwu

Q: Blue, Yellow, and White are colonizers and also really abusive. A: Yes. It doesn’t negate Pink’s actions, though.

Q: Pink Pearl was an accident! She changed after!!! That’s not abuse!!!!!!! A: Abuse isn’t always intentional, and we don’t canonically know it was an accident. Pink Pearl said that it was, but she admitted she was making excuses for her. But, accident or not, hurting someone deeply can be abuse if it’s not dealt with. Pink Pearl was not dealt with. She was brainwashed for 8,000 years, instead. Pearl-Pearl helped her deal with it. The continual explosive anger from Pink was abusive, hands down.

Q: She’s not a villain! A: She certainly is framed as Steven’s villain. Regardless of what you personally think of Pink, Steven is deeply disturbed and harmed by Rose’s actions. It’s literally the whole plot of the show! If Pink is eventually redeemed, I won’t mind, but she’s irredeemable in my eyes.

[6v6taeminisloveshineeworld]

Homme Fatale -Dentist!Vampire!Taemin X Reader

homme fatale 

i. e. An undoubtedly seductive and dangerous man. One with a smile that would be too cruel not to kiss and a cherubic face with a temperament that’s anything but innocent. 

Summary: He was cloaked by the smell of death and wore it as armor. His life had little meaning, he pillaged through the world only to beguile and destroy as his veins hummed with bloodlust and selfish need. Nocturnal creatures should not be swayed by the beating hearts of the living but when Taemin catches a glimpse of you, a mortal in possession of a treacherous supernatural gift, he is faced with the temptation to claim you as his own. At his mercy, you discover a darkness in yourself that you’ve never dared to explore and you never imagined it could taste so sweet.

Genre: Smut, Romance, Dentist AU, Vampire AU, Supernatural, Horror, Lyric fic inspired by WANT MV and other Taemin song lyrics (easter eggs abound)

Rating: M for sexual content, death, and blood

Pairing: Taemin x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k+

You’d always had an unhealthy fascination with death. With autumn winds and the way the colors seemed even more vibrant just before everything fell and turned cold. When you were a child you’d been scared of the dark just like everyone else, until the day that same darkness befriended you. 

Your parents always said you’d had an overactive imagination growing up. That you’d kept invisible friends far longer than your classmates and that maybe this was due to the fact that they had never given you any siblings but they were wrong. Your friends were not imaginary, they were just unable to communicate with anyone else. 

It was on your tenth birthday that you first had a full conversation with a ghost. The little girl with blonde hair and green eyes was named Pomona and she seemed to like the same games and books you did. She loved building tree houses in the woods even though she couldn’t carry anything herself. She took sips of the green tea you served her by leaning into the cup with her tongue. 

Even though your visitor glided through walls with ease she was still able to keep down a meal. You’d laughed at her manners and held her hand. To your surprise, you felt the touch of her smooth skin as you never had been able to before. It was then that you knew you were truly different, you would never be able to unsee the spectors that appeared every day before you walking in the streets beside you. Not only was the veil lifted from your eyes unlike others around you but you seemed to be a part of their world as well and it had made Pomona’s departure from you as she ascended to join her family that much harder. 

When your parents had died in a car crash right on the outskirts of town you had thought that maybe this was why you’d been born with these gifts, that maybe your life of living like a pariah was all so that you could have this chance to communicate with your parents even in the afterlife. But there was no apparition. No voices that called for you from the curtain that separated the living from the dead.  And with that hope of communication gone you were left with a gaping hole inside of you but you continued on living in the world as invisibly as you could. It wasn’t hard to do in the small town of Ampleforth where everyone knew their neighbors but still kept to themselves and their clicks. The crowd around your age kept at a distance and the elders that passed you by in the grocery store looked at you with sympathy or rather through you at the poor orphan who never made friends easily. 

During your teenage years you’d had your share of otherworldly lovers. They came eagerly when you called to them while your parents refused to answer you from beyond. It didn’t matter how many candles you lit in your loneliness or how many beautiful fantoms kissed you with lips cold as hell. You never let them possess your soul. You never gave away the reigns of control to anyone.

That isn’t to say you hadn’t tried making living friends. However, most people in Ampleforth didn’t want to think about anywhere beyond Lastshire the next town over. You wanted to travel, you believed that to see the world was to live and you wanted to leave once you had enough money to do so. The townspeople were stuck in their roots and their old ways and even technology was a bit rustic. You often found yourself using the library wifi outside laying on the lawn with Emma, the only friend who really understood you even without knowing your secret in full beyond your morbid curiosities. And today, like any other Friday night was no exception. 

You looked away from your book to glance at her as she laughed aloud and continued to scan her phone. You bookmarked the page where Mr. Rochester disguised as a gypsy woman tells Jane her fortune for what must have been the tenth time you’ve read it over the years and move closer to Emma. 

“What are you reading?” You asked her curiously. “Fanfiction of course,” Emma said smiling. You joined her, reading along and smiling at the fact that someone was so comfortable around you even when you remained silent. 

The graveyard was especially chilly at sunset. You placed your freehand in your pocket to warm it and clutched the bag of glazed donuts and bouquet of white lilies to your chest with the other. Your parents graves resided on the grounds of St. Samael church, though the grounds hadn’t been tended in ages. After enemy troops from the Battle of Cymadd two-hundred years before took refuge in its walls it was seen as a sacrilege to worship here. Your mother and father however had lovely memories of picnics and stolen kisses on these grounds where no one would look for them and so when their will had stated that they were to be buried here in the desecrated church you hadn’t batted an eye though the tongues of Ampleforth had wagged.

You knelt before their graves and blew off the dried leaves. You divided the flowers evenly between them and placed a donut on each of the stones as you sat beside them and ate the rest. The anniversary of their death always washed you with a flood of anxiety. It was foolish to think that maybe on this day the abyss driven between you and them would be broken and they would appear before you. On the other hand you chided yourself for such selfish wishes. They were happy in their own paradise and only an ungrateful daughter would wish them to visit the earth once more, even if it was to say goodbye. 

The tears came then, unbidden. You lay on your back and shut your eyes. Shutting the pain away simultaneously for crying never could erase the scars.  At least here in the darkness you knew yourself even when your own thoughts were frightening and loud to your own ears. 

Your mind was filled with the epitaphs of the graves that stood tall here around you, phases passed your eyelids like shooting stars.

Life is but the whisper of death, in sleep we are merely participants of a new condition. 

To have loved and lost I know this, there is no greater torment than to love that which parishes.

Just as the last strokes of light were painting the sky you felt the cold hands of death embrace you at your shoulders. You opened your eyes quickly to find a young girl looking down at you in concern. Her wide blue eyes fringed by long lashes reminded you of a porcelain doll. The frigid bite of her fingers and her flawless features confirmed she was a ghost and one most likely buried here in St. Samael by the look of her outdated lilac petticoats. A giant bow rested at the back of her head, holding her raven hair away from her face as it cascaded over her shoulder. 

“I miss my parents too.” the girl said quietly.

“What’s your name? What’s keeping you from passing on and joining them.” You ask softly.

“My name is Callitae, and I stayed so that I could visit my father who still roams this earth visible to the living.”

“That’s not possible, if your father were still on earth he would be a ghost same as you.” You said in confusion.

“My father is very much dead but it is not his time to turn to dust either. However, the wheel of time seems to be running quickly for you, it comforts me to know that in your heart it is not death you fear but loneliness.” And with those bleak words she vanished into the mist of dusk.

You made your way along the path to your car, careful not to trip over rocks and the overgrowth of the untamed forest as all the while you felt the eyes of an unfamiliar presence upon you wolflike in its intensity. You moved a little faster and didn’t look back.

~ One Year Later ~

 Aldermire castle was at the very edge of Ampleforth, it was so named for its seemingly endless grounds of alder trees that swayed in honeyed light green shades against the sun. It was more of a manor than a castle but according to gossip that became legend, the man who once lived there with his wife and servants had the tastes and charisma of a king. He’d been a general during the battle of Cymadd with many honors to his name praising his valor and ferocity on the fields. This granted him favor in the eyes of many of the council but some were wary of him for he seemed to possess an almost inhuman tolerance for pain. 

He’d survived the torture masters of the enemy when he was captured and taken prisoner as none before him had. When he’d come back home to Aldermire and his wife he’d seemed like a living corpse. He recovered quickly under his wife’s care however, and by spring their first and last child was born for the mother died soon after. 

The master of Aldermire grew more reclusive in his grief and never took in visitors. He raised his daughter on his own but she was a delicate creature born before her time and prone to sickness easily. When she died of the plague that ravished Ampleforth faster than forest fire he lost the last anchor to life that he had and in his sorrow, it was said that he burned the castle locking himself inside as well. Even so, Aldermire was spared complete collapse as servants rushed to put out the flames but his body had never been found. 

As you drove past the alder trees and took in the overgrown vines that clung to the castle like the brambles of Thornfield Hall in Jane Eyre, a sense of excitement washed over you. You’d tried to catch glimpses of the castle before in your childhood but the forest had been so thick and the barbed wires attached to ‘no trespassing’ signs had looked so menacing you’d given up until that morning when Emma had called to say that “the creepy castle” you’d always wanted to explore as a child was now sold to the new dental surgeon in town who had renovated it as his clinic. 

It seemed the surgeon had appeared overnight, so quick were these renovations and appointments from patients in towns even farther than Lastshire but supposedly he’d been fixing the place a year in advance before ever stepping foot in Ampleforth. You supposed it was quite odd for a man of his profession to move so often but really what did you know of wealthy people and their judgment. 

The grounds were beautiful with crimson roses and golden apple trees. It was like something out of a fairytale when you pulled up at the driveway and walked up the stone path. You knocked on the heavy wooden door with its brass knocker, your heart racing all the while as you tidied your appearance and took in the words in bronze lettering in Latin above the door that read: VENI, VIDI, VICI. I came, I saw, I conquered.  An intriguing surgeon indeed.

A  middle-aged woman opened the door with a smile, her red heels and black mini skirt made you feel a bit self-conscious in your jean shorts and white blouse as you followed the sway of her hips inside. You noticed the white gauze bandage at her neck and wondered at if for a moment before turning your attention to the interior of Aldermire. 

 You were happy to see that though the new owner had renovated the castle for a clinic he seemed to want to keep the atmosphere of what the estate might have been like before. While some rooms had been entirely rebuilt to resemble a white-walled art studio, others seemed untouched by time and filled with bookshelves, upholstered chairs, and artwork against the old stone walls. 

You stopped in the hall to look at the paintings. All of them were memento mori’s displaying the reminder of mortality in its depictions of flower-filled vases, candles, fruits, and skulls. 

You peeked into room after room till you came to one with a small shooting range. The door was wide open as all the others had been. It seemed the owner loved showing his collections to the public though you felt that this room should surely be locked. Guns lined the far wall along with other combat gear. Well, at least the weapons seemed secure behind the glass cases. 

“The master of the house is an excellent hunter,” The receptionist said, turning to look at you. “I do believe it is one of his favorite hobbies.” You nodded, taking one last look at the room before continuing to follow her down the hall to yet another room with stark white walls.

“You may wait in this room,” the receptionist said with another bright smile as she motioned you forward into what looked like a surgical lounge chair with mirrors facing you on all sides. Before you could protest that you weren't planning on having any teeth extracted she was out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

The room was far too cold. You shiver under the thin material of your blouse as you take in the smell of cleaning chemicals and fruity furniture spray. Your spine tingles at the waft of air that assaults you from the vent above your head, the metal chair you are seated in presses against the back of your thighs like ice. 

 Along the walls of the room were bookcases, carefully filed papers, a small world globe, and to your trepidation an entire metal table covered in a white cloth that was filled with instruments. Some of which you wondered if they really were for teeth or something else entirely. Your stomach twisted with apprehension as you took in the empty syringes but before you could make your way to the door you heard footsteps approaching and you quickly sat down again.  

The door rattled open and you shifted your attention to the man who walked in. To your amazement, he was younger than you imagined. He in his mid-twenties maybe. He was very attractive which was not to be taken lightly in your mind for you had seen a great deal of beautiful spirits and judging by the way he held himself with such confidence in his stride he full well knew it too. 

If you’d seen him anywhere else you would imagine he was a model or singer instead of a dental surgeon. He was dressed in the most strikingly bright red suit you had ever seen and his blond hair was combed back revealing his forehead in a contradictingly neat but disheveled manner as if he had just run his hand through it before walking in.

 “Hello, are you Dr. Lee?” You said. 

His smile was bright enough to be plastered on every teeth-whitening poster in the lobby. “Please call me Taemin,” he said with a pronounced accent. You remember reading that he had transferred ownership of his successful clinic in South Korea to travel abroad setting up clinics from state to state and renting out large houses. Again you wondered why a surgeon as successful as he would travel so much. But then maybe he just liked the change of scenery. Certainly if you had the opportunity to see the world you would take it. Your brain was trying to piece the whole thing together rationally but under his very direct gaze, you felt exposed and flustered as you never had before. 

“What is your name?” He asked as he went to a drawer at the side of the chair and pulled out a white apron that fastened at the hips. His leg brushed yours as he closed the drawer and you shifted in your seat. His proximity making you nervous and excited even. The way his familiar blue eyes seemed to pierce you as he asked such an ordinary question made you wonder if what he really asked for was so much more. Where had you seen eyes like his before? You felt a bit lightheaded the more you tried to remember. 

At this moment you believed that if this total stranger asked anything of you, you’d give in without hesitation. There was something captivating about his aura, possessive even. For the first time in your life, you found yourself enjoying the feeling of being so inexorably won over, it was more than a little intoxicating. 

You mumbled your name aloud, thankful that your voice didn’t shake.

Taemin proceeded to put on elbow-length black gloves made of soft glittering velvet. Definitely not something anyone would want to use on a patient, you thought. They were more fit for a goth cinderella at a Halloween mask ball than anything else. This image would have made you laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked so damn sexy putting them on. He held one of the gloves between his teeth as he pulled the fabric slowly up his arm.

When he finished he came so close to your ear you could smell his cologne full of spice and gardenias as he whispered, “I think you know I’m not the kind of dentist you’re used to” his hot breath against your earlobe and his words made your heart race and your legs squeeze together. Your curiosity overriding your fear as you answered,

 “I’m more than okay with that.”

He pulled back and smiled warmly, seemingly satisfied by this answer. He brought his gloved fingertip to your collarbone and moved his hand slowly till his fingers clasped your chin pulling it up to look at him. His eyes changed from blue to crimson and before you could fully process the fact that yet another one of your lovers was undoubtedly inhuman, his plump lips were at your neck kissing a trail down your chest as he effortlessly unbuttoned your blouse and unpinned your bra, throwing each to the floor. 

Your entire body was on fire now and he hadn’t even begun. You felt your body arch into his kisses on your skin and you gasped as you looked down to see him unzipping your jeans with his teeth. He pulled the material past your ankles and tossed them aside as well.

His gloved hands spread your knees apart as if you were a book he so desperately wanted to read. His lips moved to the inside of your thighs, nipping at your skin lightly as he went and purposely skipping over where you craved him the most. It was torturous till he blew on your already embarrassingly wet underwear, sending a shiver through you. 

“You have no self-control,” He said with amusement. “We can change that,” he lifted your hips and removed the last article of clothing before kneeling before you. And then he was painting butterflies against you with every skillful stroke of his tongue. Your small whimpers escalated to moans as you disheveled his hair further. 

“You want it more, don’t you?” Taemin said, pulling away and licking his lips. “And you’ll always be left wanting more, thirsting for more of me.”

“Yes, I do want you,” you said boldly surprised by your own shameless actions as you pulled him closer. 

  “My patients are usually so boring,” he said with a devilish laugh. Handsome devil. You thought as he continued. “Usually a syringe of blood is all I take and I tidy their minds so that they forget any unpleasant feelings but with you, no. Compulsion is not necessary, I want you to savor every moment till you fall for me without limit, beyond all instinct or reasoning just as I have fallen for you.”

 He moves to your neck again and this time you could feel sharp teeth graze your skin. He gripped your shoulders before piercing your flesh with his fangs. Your initial gasp of pain soon turns to pleasure as he drinks heavily from you. In a world overrun by ghosts why did the existence of vampires surprise you? You gazed into the mirrors that surrounded you and watched as blood trickled across your skin. Taemin’s reflection was nowhere to be seen, light seeped through him as if he wasn’t there at all.  An airy groan escapes you again when he pulls your hair back to allow better access to your neck. 

You move from the chair to stand and raise one leg to his hip. He loosens his grip on your hair then, taking you by the waist and lifting you effortlessly,  mounting you against him. “What sweet forbidden fruit you are.” He says as he licks the droplets of blood left on your neck and circles the two small punctures with his tongue so harshly you’re sure it will bruise. 

“I’m all you will see now, I’m your new world,” Taemin said before sealing that promise with a kiss. His lips claim yours hungrily and you responded just as fiercely, your tongue probing his in a battle for dominance as you moved against him. The taste of him and the mingling coppery trace of your blood made you realize you’d been starving and only he could satiate you now.

He carried you across the room, opening a door in the back that led to what must have been his bedroom. He gently set you on the floor and you took in the room. It was dimly lit with beautiful candelabras, an armour, and several paintings. The bed with its intricately carved mahogany headboard and satin white sheets was at the center. 

“Get on the bed, love.” He says as he moves towards the corner of the room.

You do so nervously, laying back against the pillows and watching Taemin open a cage. Your eyes widen as black snakes slither free. They seemed to stop and look to him for guidance and Taemin looked them in the eye and said, “be gentle with our new pet.” 

Your heart beats wildly as the snakes come toward you but you dare not move. This was some sort of test you knew and even though a small part of you wanted to bolt, a larger, more insistent thrum of curiosity and anticipation overwhelmed you. The snakes were each quite beautiful in the way that some lovely things are terrifying. Their glossy scales shone under the candlelight as two furled around your ankles and two more held your wrists bound against the bedposts. They were long enough that their bodies circled the posts several times. Their pink forked-tongues seemed to taunt you as they watched you squirm. Another glided up your stomach and between your breasts only to coil itself around your neck and fall asleep against the warmth of your skin. 

“You are a prisoner to it all now, my love,” Taemin said as he removed his right glove with his teeth and slipped two fingers inside you. You engulfed him greedily, blissfully surrendering to the slow movements of his fingers and the way you lost control of your hips as you writhed against your restraints. “You’re a prisoner to this heat, to my touch, and to my voice.” He said in a singsong that encompassed your senses. 

“I’ll tease you slowly,” Taemin said as his gloved hand rubbed circles against you, the velvety fabric sending shockwaves coursing through your body to the tips of your toes as they curled. “-Until the only name you taste against that pretty little mouth of yours is mine.” Your shuddering climax is met with erratic breaths as you will yourself not to beg for more. Here you were bare and shaking sweatily before him as he stood, still fully clothed and collected looking down on you with that deceitfully cherubic face. It sent daggers to your pride and yet how willingly you accepted your fate. 

Sensing your thoughts he began to undress as calmly and languorously as he did everything else. He seemed to take delight in the show he was putting on for you. His eyes glowed with mischief as he undid the last button of his suit and you found yourself unable to look away. He was muscular yet grace filled his form. He was a walking paradox, lithe and powerful all at once.

“My very existence is a sin,” Taemin said as he climbed onto the bed. “An unholy predator whose thirst will never be satisfied. And you love, are my prey.” 

He kissed you again and suddenly you found that the world was no longer monochrome but dripping with color. You felt alive as you never had before. The grey world died as his naked body danced with your naked soul and you felt as if you were drenched in light. Vulnerable yet safe, adrift in a pure deep sea. You wanted to drown in this time with him, you crashed into one another as waves on a moon-white shore. 

You want to trace the valley of his arms, you want to touch him though you can’t reach him. That is when you feel the snakes release you. You embrace him fully and in this moment, words aren’t necessary. 

You surfaced breathless and entranced as you took in his eyes again, they melted into deep blue once more. Your hearts beat to the same rhythm as Taemin moved to lay beside you. It was at that moment as he held you in his arms that your memory resurfaced, his eyes were the same as the raven-haired girl’s in the graveyard you’d seen a year before. She had her father’s eyes you realized.

He seemed to read the question in your eyes for he said, “Yes, Callie is my daughter. She was born here and she died here within these walls just as her mother did. It was my fault she died.” He said, shaking his head. “My wife couldn't bear to see me suffer, when the enemy commander turned me into a monster I turned against them and after that massacre I refused to follow my new instincts and feed. I was stubborn and prideful and when I came back to her arms I was weak. She gave me her blood without care for herself and like a beast, I drained her slowly and gave in to what we wanted most: a child. She couldn’t have known how baring a Child of Night would cause her to suffer but I should have known better. If I hadn’t weakened her so, if-”

“Shhh,” You drew your fingers to his lips to silence him and pulled him to your breast, wrapping your arms around him firmly. “She loved you and she did what she wanted to do for you and for her beautiful daughter. I know that she wouldn’t have wanted anything more than to have her no matter the consequence.” 

He took your wrist and brought it to his lips, then he traced your blue veins with the pad of his thumb before he said, “I knew from the moment I beheld you laying in the graveyard under that brilliant amber sunset that your soul was seeking mine. I pursued you shamelessly afterward as if you were tethered to me and I couldn’t let you go. You haunted my thoughts and made me care as I never thought I could again. It is a lie that the Children of Night are soulless and heartless, ours are bound to this earth as much as any mortal and they burn just as brightly.”

You entwined your fingers with his. 

“In your eyes I saw that we both shared the same spirit.” Taemin said brushing a kiss to your forehead. “We both fear being trapped but most of all we fear the way we isolate ourselves, there is no life, no death for us but rather a long and lonely road filled with people who see straight through us.”

“I know what you mean,” You said. “We are alone in ways no one else can begin to understand and yet I want to know you better than I know myself.”

“I never want to lose the one I love ever again,” Taemin said earnestly, he took your hands in his and squeezed them. “Would you spend forever with me till the earth itself crumbles with the weight of falling stars? Would you give me your soul to hold as my equal? All that I ask of you is to love me, respect me, obey me and I will be your slave for all of eternity.” 

“Then I am yours completely, in heart, body, and soul, I am yours just as you are mine.” You said. 

“It won't be painless,” He said with worry written in his eyes.

“Death is earned is it not?” You said, looking at him confidently. “I trust you.” You said more quietly.

“You scare me a great deal.” He said. You laughed at that, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because you make me want to be a better man. My love, I am no angel. I am devious.” He ran his free palm against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “My hands are stained from murder, and yet you trust them completely. I am selfish to want you and cruel to take you into darkness with me. I am a demanding creature but I am your servant.”

He took off one of his rings and slipped it onto your finger. It was gold inlaid with sapphire jewels the color of his eyes in the shape of a laurel crest. “This will protect you from the sunlight once the transition is completed.” Taemin said, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and over the ring. “Never take it off, promise me.” 

“I promise.”

He brought his right hand to his mouth, his fangs elongated once more as they had when he’d feed on you and in one swift motion he pierced his wrist. His deep purple-red blood spilled like wine across the sheets. He took the blood into his mouth before bringing his lips to yours. 

His blood scorched the walls of your throat and trickled at the corner of your mouth. It singed the skin of your heart till you felt so full of him that you didn’t know whose body belonged to whom anymore. It was a dizzying kind of love, hypnotic and consuming in its luster. Sometimes love is sweet, You thought. You were drunk on this emotion and the taste of him. He was under your skin, he was flowing through your veins.

He licked the blood that had dripped at the corner of your mouth clean and pulled away to look at you. “Until we meet again, love.” Taemin said, before placing a satin covered pillow over your face.

Sometimes love is brutally soft. You thought as you lost consciousness. 

~ Epilogue ~

His scent tickles your nose and calls your limbs to arise from the ashes of your former self. 

“Welcome to hell my queen.” 

The voice in the darkness was sweet to hear. Your eyes open, light purple and full of lethal newborn lust for the blood of your sire, your soulmate, your king who smiles above you.

The impulse to feed is like a maelstrom consuming your senses. All you want is him, his blood, and his body against yours. He lays on the bed beside you and tilts his head in invitation. 

You crawl towards him, straddling his hips and piercing your fangs to his throat eagerly. You nibble and mewl against his collarbone when his skin does not break beneath you. He laughs at your frustration and gently strokes your hair. He reaches for your chin, lifting it to eye level and brushing the pad of his fingers against your small fangs till the tiniest drops of blood fall and you lick his fingers clean. 

“You're like a newborn kitten,” Taemin says in your mind. His voice inside your head sends a ripple of joy through your body. You'd thought you’d learned what true unity felt like but you’d never experienced this, an all-consuming warmth and wholeness. “Try again innocent one, this time tilt your head upwards as you elongate your fangs.” 

Your desire to please him was almost as vigorous as your hunger. You moved to his neck again and did as he instructed. 

“That’s my kitten,” he said. You beam under his praise as you quench your thirst. You find it’s not enough and you move to his lips instead. You kissed him like nightfall devouring the sun, an eclipse under a diamond sky. You were dangerous now you thought with glee as Taemin pulled you closer, closer towards the whisper of forever. And then you smiled when he said in your mind, When we align, will you or I be the moon? You bit his bottom lip and tugged it playfully in reply. 

[zoryany]

“Do not give me that look.” for the royal imperial Skywalker AU ;)

Royal Imperial Skywalker AU - previous parts

Prompt me!

He hadn’t seen Han since dinner the night before, having been sent straight to his room following the conversation with his parents. Luke sensed his... guest had fallen asleep before he’d made it back to his own room, and he sighed as he settled in for the night, not wanting to think about what would be waiting for him in the morning. The conversations were far from over, and though he could suspect that he was living in a fantasy if he thought his relationship with Han could persist, Luke still worried about what was to come next.

When he regained consciousness the next morning, Luke nearly leapt out of his skin when the first thing he saw in the dim light of his room was Leia perched on the foot of his bed.

“What are you doing here?!” he shouted, jolting upright in his bed.

His sister met him with a single raised brow. “We haven’t had the chance to talk in private since you got back.” She sounded almost bitter about that. “So you aren’t going anywhere until we do.”

It had been several years since they’d shared a room but, even now, Luke could still feel a pang of discomfort when they were apart for prolonged periods of time. As children, the two of them were nearly inseparable, either one of them throwing a tantrum if they were kept apart for too long. Probably the hardest thing about running from home was being away from Leia for so long. But, with all the excitement of the last day, Luke just wanted some peace. The night prior hadn’t been nearly long enough.

“C’mon, Leia,” he groaned. “I just woke up. I’m not prepared for this conversation in the least.”

The laugh his sister let out was sharp and nearly derisive, acidity emanating across their bond. “Yeah, well, you should’ve thought about that before you ran away. I’ve hardly spoken to you since you got back - at least, not in private - and as your sister and twin, I demand answers.”

Running his fingers through his hair, Luke sighed. He had missed Leia. He did want to tell her everything, to reconnect and feel his twin be right there for him, once again. But he was still tired - still trying to sort through everything from the night before. 

“You know you’re the first person I wanted to talk to about any of this.” Luke finally peeled back his covers and pulled himself out of bed, sluggishly dragging himself towards his closet. “If I had my way, we could’ve had a proper heart to heart before Mother and Father pulled me aside.” Rifling through his clothes, Luke picked out the most comfortable and casual outfit he owned, calling out to Leia as he changed from his pajamas. “Unfortunately, you know as well as I do how they can get.”

Emerging from the doorway of his wardrobe, he found Leia standing just outside its threshold. “Yeah, I suppose I do...” For a moment, she looked sympathetic, but a second later she punched him lightly on his upper arm and resumed her position on his bed. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you left me, little brother, and I’m still deciding what it’s going to take for me to forgive you.”

“I’m older,” Luke protested, automatically, striding to take a seat on his bed as well. “ - Nevermind, that doesn’t matter. You know what it was like on our birthday, though. How much it all was. I just... couldn’t take any more.”

For a long moment that seemed to stretch on into eternity, she regarded him, as though appraising everything she thought she knew about her other half. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and pained. “I know. I was there. But... you didn’t even try to talk to me - to any of us...” 

Do you know what you mean to us? 

The guilt rose in Luke once again, because really, he didn’t. And perhaps he’d been selfish, through it all, focusing solely on their actions and how they treated him rather than what they might feel or actually want for him. No, he had not doubted their intentions, but his consideration for them had fallen to the wayside in his desire to have some time to himself. He’d never wanted to harm any of them any more than they ever wanted to harm him. They were, he supposed, all too stubborn to recognize this fact in the moment.

When Luke couldn’t immediately find the words, Leia cut in again, her expression shifting completely. “Your hair is a mess, you know.” True, he hadn’t cut it in weeks... “I bet that’s gonna be the next thing Mother has to say to you.”

He grimaced, but tried to laugh it off. “Maybe, but Han likes it, at least.” Leia’s look instantly shifted, her expression appearing as though she’d swallowed a bug whole. “Oh, c’mon, don’t give me that look.”

“What do you see in him?” she demanded. “You can do so much better, Luke.”

“I’m glad you think so, sis,” he said, rolling his eyes, “but I do happen to think he’s just right. His co-pilot is quite the character, too. You’d like Chewie. Wookiees make excellent companions.”

It was Leia’s turn to roll her eyes, meeting him with that penetrating glare she’d mastered at an early age. “Oh, I’m certain I would, but I would have never expected you to take up with a... scoundrel like him.”

He couldn’t help the frustration that began to build within him. Nobody understood Luke better than Leia, but those sentiments were disconcerting, to say the least. “Oh yeah? And who did you expect me to take up with? Some spoiled noble who’s known nothing but luxury? That isn’t me, Leia, and you know it.”

She met him with a funny sort of look, one he couldn’t quite interpret, and her mind suddenly became blocked off. “You’re right... I do know that, but - Luke, I worry you don’t understand your worth. I’m not convinced that Solo recognizes it, either, and I just - you know I have only ever wanted the best for you.”

Luke’s feelings about that were conflicted. On the one hand, he was so grateful for how much his family cared for him, especially his sister, who was the other part of his soul. On the other, though, he was growing increasingly tired of the prejudice they were all directing towards Han.

“Leia... Han didn’t know who I was until just a couple days ago.” That also hadn’t been by choice. It was incredible, what a few weeks of growing his hair and becoming unkempt could do, when it came to appearing entirely different than the well-known Imperial Prince. It was only when a certain Admiral Piett had arrived on Ord Mantell that he’d had to reveal his identity to Han. And when he had... “It didn’t make a difference to him. He was, well, reasonably shocked, but he still just.. he’s only ever seen me as Luke, and not some prince to be worshipped. And before you say anything about what I supposedly deserve, that’s really all I’ve ever wanted from anyone. So the fact that he’s always seen me for me has been... refreshing. And I don’t want to lose that.”

As much as he’d always been able to read his sister, when her shields were up, he had difficulty interpreting Leia’s expressions. There were so many conflicting emotions flickering across her face that he simply did not know where to start, but she made it stony and attempted to remain nonchalant. “I understand that,” she conceded,” but I don’t understand the appeal of someone like... him. I’m sure you’d be able to find someone a little less... infuriating, if you tried.”

Oh, no. That didn’t bode well. Leia had never been discriminatory against those who held a lower social status than them, but it was easy enough for her to slip into something resembling as much when someone insulted her.

“Leia... what did he say?”

Suddenly, she appeared awkward, nearly scandalized. “What makes you think he said anything?”

Shaking his head, Luke tried to make his laugh as breezy as humanly possible. “Because. I know you, and I know him. And you wouldn’t be this vehemently against him if he hadn’t said something.”

A knock at the door saved Leia from answering directly, but it did give her an entirely new direction to head towards.

“Luke?” came Han’s hesitant voice before the door cracked open. “Are are you - oh. Ahh, hi, Princess. Nice to, um, it’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” came Leia’s cold reply. “You know,” she continued, “you should maintain the proper respect when addressing the Imperial Prince. To you, he is Your Highness. Or Prince Skywalker.”

Han raised his brows, scoffing. “Yeah, lady, I think the two of us are a bit beyond that, at this point.”

Luke groaned, not wanting to deal with this conflict quite this early. “Please, you two, not now. Can we just be civil? I know everyone has reasons to be upset with me but... Can I just have five minutes to collect myself?”

“Oh!” scoffed Leia. “You better believe we all have reasons to be upset with you. I thought, as twins, we had some kind of agreement when it came to honesty.”

“Yeah!” Han chimed in. “Don’t forget that we still gotta talk about why you never told me who you really were.”

This... was not what he’d wanted. At all. Just seconds before, he’d seen Leia showing Han disdain, looking down on him for his choices in partners. Now, out of the blue, they were both ganging up on him, and Luke decidedly did not like it.

“Alright!” he shouted. “Whatever. What do you want from me? What do you want me to say? That I just wanted to have someone - anyone - treat me like a normal person? To look at me like... like Luke, and not the Imperial Prince? To find someone worthy of my time and, hells, my heart, who knew me for me and not my heritage? Because if that’s the case, well, you both have wanted the same thing for me. And I’m sorry I lied to you both, but, well, if you can come up with an alternate plan, I’d love to hear it!”

Both his sister and his guest appeared taken aback. It was rare for Luke to engage in such an outburst, but he felt good in doing so. It was a weight off his chest. “I - I love you both,” he declared, stating as much to Han for the first time (and, Force, wasn’t that something...), but Luke looked at the two of them with a matching intensity. “I’m not expecting the two of your to like each other, but I do hope the both of you can respect what I want and why I’ve done what I have.”

As different as Han and Leia were, the expressions they wore were nearly identical. Of course, it was Leia who spoke first, her diplomatic prowess coming through, but he could sense a similar sentiment from Han.

“You know we care for you,” Leia insisted. “You must. And... we know that you care for us. But...” The hesitation in his sister’s voice was unknowingly mirrored in Han’s body language. “Do you get what it does when you leave without a trace?”

“Or when you hide the truth?” It was eerie to see Han so easily align with Leia’s point of view.

“I guess...” Luke really hadn’t considered it. He always tried to do right by his loved ones, but when his desire for freedom took hold, he sometimes forgot how his actions could affect them. “I am sorry, to both of you. And to Mother and Father. I... I don’t regret running. If I hadn’t, I’d never met Han.” Leia’s expression soured, slightly, but there was understanding echoing across their connection. “But I do... well, knowing what I know now, I wish I’d gone about it differently.”

Something like triumph lit up his sister’s face, mirrored in a more subtle way in Han’s features, and Luke felt that he’s managed to appease them both, even if he’d wronged them somehow in the process.

“Yeah,” agreed Leia, “you’re not wrong there. Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.” She turned a heavy look towards Han before grinning back at Luke. “Well, the two of you have exactly fifteen minutes before I barge back in here. We aren’t done talking, Luke, but I’m not about to push you in this state. Just know that you still have a lot to say - both to me and our parents.”

As Leia breezed out of the room, Luke hoped desperately that Han would not say anything about what his sister had just said. Thankfully, the smuggler knew better, and chose to focus on the present, instead.

He knew there was a reason he had been drawn to this particular captain.

[kitsmits]

Can I get ✿ ♡ ☼ for Kaiya, Kakashi, and Itachi for the headcanon meme?

Ooooo ^_^ I did them separately, though of course each character’s headcanon will probably reference each other :P Slight NSFW ahead. Putting this under a “read more” line because it got loooong.

✿ - Sex headcanon

Kaiya has a really high sex drive. One might call her “insatiable,” though it’s more just loads of stamina. Very playful, can go for hours through multiple orgasms, and quite flexible ;) For Kaiya, sex isn’t just about love, lust, or being intimate; it’s also an outlet, a way to work out stress, aggression, frustration, or loneliness. Sometimes it’s a way to escape. Sometimes she just wants to feel good. That’s not to say she’s a selfish lover; quite the opposite. She LOVES getting her partner to cum, making them lose control - though often, she winds up losing control herself in the process :P Whatever else the sex is about though, Kaiya needs to be able to feel open and vulnerable, something she can only do with someone she trusts completely.

When Kakashi first became sexually active, he was in Anbu, and it was never about love. It was part curiosity, part just wanting to get it over with, part needing to feel connected with another human being. He’s only had a few partners over the years, not limited to a single gender, always someone he trusted implicitly - but never romantic. He never allowed it to go beyond the occasional fuck in the dark. By the time he left Anbu, his drive had actually gone down (inversely related to his rising depression); he’s only visited those partners a few times in the years since. Though he’s had plenty of opportunities for one-night-stands with strangers, he’s never indulged in one. It’s not that he’s not sexually attracted to others; he just doesn’t trust himself not to hurt them, even for a single night. Plus, he just doesn’t like letting his mask down for anyone he doesn’t absolutely trust - literally or figuratively.

Itachi is a virgin. He’s had opportunities, but I see Itachi as demi-sexual: he has to feel a deep connection to a person in order to be sexually attracted to them. In TUTN-verse, Kaiya’s probably the only person he’s felt that close to. Even then, he tried to fight it, and if she never made that first move, he might have succeeded by virtue of convincing himself that she didn’t want him like that way anyway. However, once Itachi experiences sex with that special someone, he has a hard time resisting the urge around them. He wants to make them feel exquisite, wants to worship at their feet and have them writhing in ecstasy again and again. He will put his considerable self-control to use in order to last as long as they need him to, only letting himself go when he’s certain they’ve been fully satisfied.

♡ - romantic headcanon

Kaiya HATES romance novels. She thinks rom-coms are unrealistic and overly sappy. If she were in any such scenario, she’d probably laugh and find the whole thing ridiculous...all while wondering, in the back of her mind, when the facade would fall away. (Given what happened with her first romantic attachment, can you blame her?) For Kaiya, “real” romance is found in quiet moments. It’s in being comfortable with a person and not needing to question their motives or intentions. It’s in kind, thoughtful gestures, in watching each other’s back. It’s in being able to tell each other anything without feeling obligated to do so. For Kaiya, romance is found in trust. Without trust, everything else is window dressing that probably hides a horrible secret.

Everything thinks that Kakashi reads porn for, well, the porn. In reality, what he loves about the Icha Icha series is the romance that surrounds the sex scenes. In the books, it’s not just that the guy gets his rocks off in various situations by a variety of gorgeous women; it’s the banter, the buildup, the antici...

...sorry, couldn’t resist XD Anyway, the reason Kakashi got so embarrassed when he had to read Icha Icha out loud wasn’t the sex scenes. It was how sweet and fluffy and, yes, romantic the books are. He wants the kiss in the rain. He wants the petals on the bed, the candlelit dinners, the walks in the park where they talk about nothing and constantly brush hands. But thanks to his guilt complex, chronic depression, and pervasive belief that he’s poisonous to anyone who gets close to him, Kakashi has never sought a real-life romance with anyone.

Itachi doesn’t think about “romance.” At all. Even in a kinder, gentler life, he’s too preoccupied with other issues to consider it. Candle-lit dinner? Why, when he can cook his partner’s favorite foods in the comfort and privacy of their home? What Itachi does think about is his partner’s well-being. He’ll bring tea and sandwiches if they’re working too hard to stop for a meal. He’ll listen to their ideas and their grievances. He’ll draw a hot bath with epsom salts and lay a blanket over their sleeping form, planting a kiss on their forehead before turning off the light. Honestly, he’d probably love being a house husband. For Itachi, romance is doing things for his partner - and he doesn’t think of it as “romance.” He doesn’t really think about it at all. He just does.

☼ - appearance headcanon

...soooo I’m honestly not sure what this one means in the context of anime/manga characters who have plenty of pictures floating around out there :P I’m interpreting it as what are some more realistic aspects of their appearances that you wouldn’t be able to tell from the anime style.

Not sure why, but I’m picturing Kaiya’s lips right now. Her lips aren’t “full,” per se. Definitely not “pillowy.” They’re mid-sized and shapely, with a sharply defined Cupid’s bow and a natural, vulpine upturn. Prolonged eye contact with her can be a bit uncomfortable for some, as she inherited her father’s piercing, sharp baby blues. The exception to this is when they’re filled with mirth. Then, it’s hard to look away. Her eyelashes are sort of a rusty auburn, long but not very thick. Face claims incluse model Cintia Dicker, Turkish actress Elçin Sangu (an early inspiration), and most of all this model from several Maja Topcagic photos:

Kakashi is the definition of “chiseled.” For some reason, when I imagine him aging, he sorta looks like Anthony Bourdain. Sorta. That might say more about me than it does anything else. Also I’ve been listening to one of Bourdain’s books (read by him) so maybe he’s just on my brain.

Itachi, we all know, has eyelashes for daaaays. Lips are on the thin side, but shapely and soft. He definitely takes after his mother a lot in looks, especially as a young man, but I think if he were allowed to age he’d slowly turn more like his father. Never so beady-eyed or frown-jowled, though. He just has that more angular shape and longer chin that becomes more pronounced with age. Also, for some reason, he’s never really liked his ears. It’s part of why he grew his hair out and wears his bangs so long.

[gatekeeper-watchman]

What the Bible Says about Abortion – The Bible and Abortion The Bible and Abortion: Numerous Scriptures Address the Issue

Of all the issues in our culture today, surely abortion is one of the most volatile. Perhaps no other issue has raised so much debate and anguish, plus time spent by various interested parties to educate the public on their views on it. Amid such a controversial issue, many simply throw up their hands and vow to stay out of it altogether. In the name of freedom and under the guise of “it isn’t my business” many choose to look the other way from this troubling issue, leaving the decision in the hand of lawmakers, doctors, and pregnant women. Although there are many different issues concerning abortion, the following is designed to focus on what the Bible says about abortion and the consequences thereof.

Does God Care about Abortion?

What does God say about abortion? Do the millions of abortions that have taken place in this land bother Him? Is a fetus a “real person” in the eyes of God? If so, where does that leave us? If an unborn life is truly just a mere mass of fetal tissue to God, we should want to know. If He considers the life of the woman more important than her unborn child, we should want to know. And if He does consider that unborn life a “real person,” and just as important as the life of the mother that bears it, we most certainly should want to know. After all, we are all accountable to God not only for our individual lives but also as a generation and a nation.

Thou Shalt Not Kill and Its Application to Abortion

Throughout the Bible, God has plenty to say about the taking of innocent life. Most people in our nation, though they may not be familiar with all of the Ten Commandments, know that “Thou Shalt Not Kill” is listed there somewhere. The word “kill” in this instance specifically refers to “murder” — a premeditated and deliberate act of taking someone’s life. It is different from other forms of taking a life, which could be accidental, or in self-defense. God has different laws regarding different sorts of death. But He continually opposes and speaks against murder, especially the murder of the innocent.

Do not pollute the land where you are. Bloodshed pollutes the land and atonement cannot be made for the land on which the blood has been shed, except by the blood of the one who shed it. Do not defile the land where you live. Numbers 35:33-34

God’s judgment against the killing of an innocent life grows out of His love for humankind. The crime of murder is not only an offense against the sanctity of life; it is a pollutant upon the very land we live. God wants to spare us from the variety of ways this pollution is manifested. When the land becomes defiled with sin, people cry out “Where is God?” yet they refuse to take responsibility for breaking His laws, which were only given to us for our protection and good. Each sin that we commit is not merely an isolated incident but will set off a chain reaction of other sins if not dealt with. Since the legalization of abortion, for instance, child abuse has increased by over 1000%. This is the exact opposite of what those who legalized abortion thought it would do since it was assumed that only children who were initially unwanted were abused.

In Psalm 106, God speaks specifically against killing innocent children and babies. He says of His people: “They mingled with the nations and adopted their customs. They worshiped their idols which became a snare to them. They sacrificed their sons and their daughter to demons. They shed innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was desecrated by their blood.”

Today we may scoff, or wonder in disbelief how anyone, especially someone who claimed to follow God, could sacrifice their child to an idol or a demon. Yet, an idol is anything that we worship before God. Today, children are sacrificed to the idols of selfishness, convenience, “freedom,” and ambition — sacrificed to the very demonic powers that are behind such idols. Times haven’t changed that much. Human nature hasn’t changed, nor have Satan’s schemes against that which God considered so precious that He died to redeem it–human life.  To this day, it has become so critical to understand what the Bible says about abortion.

When Does Life Begin?

One may argue here that they agree that it is wrong to murder, but they still don’t see how a fetus necessarily qualifies as a human being. Perhaps God doesn’t feel the same way about a very young fetus, as He does an older fetus, a newborn, or a 50-year-old. It may be a different issue altogether with Him. Does the Bible say anything specifically about unborn children?

In Exodus 21:22 God gives a specific law regarding social order for the Israelites. He stated that if two men were fighting and hit a pregnant woman, thus causing her to give birth prematurely, they must be fined according to any damage done to the baby. The fine must be paid for the amount of damage inflicted upon the child. If God would make a law specifically referring to the rights of the unborn, then surely the unborn must mean something to Him!

It has been stated, “If the womb had windows, there would be no abortion.” As humans, we are not omnipresent and cannot know the full scope of what each human life is worth. We cannot dwell in the womb with a fetus, nor can we see it as it matures. But God can.

A Scientific View of Abortion

Just 18 days after conception, the baby’s heart begins to beat. At six weeks, brain waves can be measured. At eight weeks, the vital organs are functioning and fingerprints have formed. At nine weeks, the unborn baby can feel pain. Over 700,000 abortions each year are performed after this point in the pregnancy. By the beginning of the second month, the unborn child, small as it is, has begun to look distinctly human, though the mother may not even be aware that she is pregnant! By the time the baby is eleven weeks old, he or she breathes (fluid), swallows, digests, sleeps, dreams, wakes, tastes, hears, and feels pain. Babies born prematurely can survive outside the womb as young as 20-25 weeks old. Yet, all that is necessary to make the baby a grown human being is already there from the moment of conception. All it needs is time to mature.

Former Surgeon General, Dr. C. Everett Koop stated “We now know when life begins because the test-tube baby proves that life begins with conception. What do you have in the dish? An egg and a sperm. What do you add to it to get a baby? Nothing.” Though it is wee, it is still a real person, just as a crumb of bread is still real bread. No one who has been given the gift of life should dare despise the day of small beginnings. Have we forgotten so quickly that we were once as small?

“In the tiny, almost invisible thirty-two cell blastocyst–in that one gram or so of tissue–there is a physical potential and moral destiny unparalleled in our universe. Next to it, a gram of plutonium is a triviality: plutonium cannot compose a symphony, cannot cure cancer, cannot plan our course to the stars”. -Bernard Nathanson, M.D., and former abortionist-

A Spiritual View of What the Bible Says about Abortion

God said to the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5). God knew this man before he was born. As he was forming in his mother’s womb God gave him his personality, talents, and temperament. If his mother had gotten an abortion, the “fetal tissue” she aborted would have been a real person named Jeremiah; a mighty prophet of God and the gift of God’s voice to the nations, though she would never have known.

The Lord hath called me from the womb: from the bowels of my mother hath he made mention of my name. Isaiah 49:1

Did not he who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us within our mothers? Job 31:15

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:13-14

The above verses are only a sampling of the many Biblical references we find to live inside the mother’s womb. From them, it is clear that life begins when God creates it, not at some later point in time when it has grown to look like a newborn. God does not judge things according to their stage of development the way humans tend to. According to the above passages, even the tiniest embryo is the subject of His love and care. God sees each of our lives in the realm of our total existence, whether we are yet unborn, a young woman in the prime of her life, or an old man on his deathbed. He is patient with all of us, longing to bring each one of us into His maturity.

Do We Look Like God?

To destroy innocent human life is a crime against God and a rejection of the truth that we were made in His image. Everything in the universe belongs to Him anyway. Psalm 24:1: “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world and ALL who live in it.” Our own lives are a precious gift given to us, but ultimately, we belong to God! We are His possessions; we have merely been granted stewardship over our lives, talents, money, time, the earth we live on, and the things we “own.” Though children pass through us they are not ours, any more that we are the property of our parents. Each of us has been given the gift of life and freedom, for which we are responsible and accountable to God. None of us has the right to deny that same gift to an unborn person. It is an honor to carry that powerful force of another life within our very bodies– a life made in the very image of God! (Genesis 5:1-2)

God is no respecter of persons. If He knew Jeremiah in the womb, He knew you too. Do you believe that God lovingly fashioned you and loves you dearly? Do you believe that He has had a plan for your life from the beginning of time? A plan that none other can fulfill in quite the same way you can? That you came to this earth “trailing clouds of glory?” Or do you believe in your heart that you were a mere “accident” and that God has no personal concern for you or your life? Is it easier to believe that you are just a highly evolved animal? An animal (especially an undeveloped one) may certainly be easier to dispose of. It seems somehow even “natural,” as the laws of nature lend themselves to the survival of the strong and the equipped. Yet it seems doubtful that even an animal would come up with a way to deliberately kill its unborn offspring.

Even the jackals offer their breasts to nurse their young, but my people have become heartless like ostriches in the desert. Lamentations 4:3

Oh, let us turn from our heartlessness and defend the sanctity of human life! Out of respect for God, let us offer mercy and compassion to every life around us, born or unborn. Let us be givers of life instead of takers of life.

Am I My Brother’s Keeper?

Every 20 seconds another baby is aborted in this country, yet very few seem to notice. Statistically, one out of every three of us will die by abortion, and we will never know what we lost in those lives. Our country goes along its way leaving lawmakers to decide how the carnage should continue. We’ve bought into the lie that those we dispose of are not real people. It is the same old lie that was used to keep slavery legal and to exterminate masses of people in holocausts all over the world. We should be able to see through it by now, but as usual, most of us let circumstances and the current cultural climate dictate to us what is acceptable or not. Yet God tells us to: “Rescue those being led away to death, hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say ‘But we knew nothing of this,’ does not He who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay each person according to what he has done?” (Proverbs 24:11).

In our society today, we face a myriad of social problems as a result of our hypocrisy. Most of us have had to become somewhat double-minded just to keep a vestige of sanity. We put warnings on cigarettes and alcohol, that their consumption is dangerous to an unborn child. Yet we deem it perfectly legal, even “responsible” for a mother to have a doctor poison that same child inside her, or rip it to shreds with a surgical instrument. We might charge a man who kills a pregnant woman with a double homicide, yet what if that woman was on her way to the abortion clinic to dispose of her baby anyway? Do we then charge him with a single homicide? Why do so many states have legislation to delay a death sentence imposed against a pregnant woman who is guilty of a crime, until after she delivers her baby? If we believed what we said about the unborn child is a mere blob of tissue, it would seem that no one would mind if that baby died along with the mother in the electric chair.

We wonder how respectable college kids can throw their newborn babies into a dumpster, yet what are we supposed to think? We’re the ones who told them that it is irresponsible to raise a child at a young age and that an “unwanted child” (which is a fallacy) is better off dead. They are not to blame as much as the media, the lawmakers, the abortion counselors, the doctors, and the voters. When a woman can have an abortion on a nine-month-old unborn child, and yet a week later be tried for murder if she disposed of the child outside the womb (which at that point, would seem to be a much easier and practical way to dispose of the baby) what are the young people of this nation supposed to think? Do we have to wonder at the lack of respect for human life that we see around us?

Evil prevails when good men, in the name of freedom, do nothing. 1 Peter 2:16: “Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil.” Very few of us would argue that crack cocaine or rape should be legal simply because people are going to do it anyway, yet that is the argument that is applied to abortion. As a nation, our morals and ethics vacillate between honor and convenience, integrity and greed. This double-mindedness has become cancer-eating away at the very heart of our nation and the world.

History will speak of our abortion as a mark of the absolute decadence of our era. There will come a time when we will look back on abortion with the same shame we do now towards our evil treatment of the American Indians and the blight of slavery. We wonder why history continues to repeat itself. It is because evil starts in little ways–it starts as a seemingly innocent thought in the heart of man. Sin always seems practical, necessary, or even “cute” in its initial stages. It is only in hindsight that we can see just how atrocious those massive exterminations were and how they went against the very core of what the United States was supposed to be. Yet, we have no right to condemn previous generations for the same deeds we commit today. Then, as now, the masses simply went along with whatever was the popular opinion. Regarding slavery, it was even argued that the government didn’t have a right to tell people whether they could own slaves or not… That it was a personal choice to be made and that freedom of choice is what our country is all about. Only in that case, they forgot the rights of one whole people group. Sound familiar?

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” The Lord said. “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground. Now you are under a curse and driven from the ground which opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand.” Genesis 4:9-11

As a nation, we must repent for the heartlessness we have displayed to the most helpless members of our culture. Though God is merciful, He is also just. He cannot ignore the cries of the blood that has soaked our ground and stained our hands. We are bringing ourselves under a curse, but do not have the eyes to see it. We only see the fruit of that curse and we wonder what went wrong. Like Cain, our ears have become deafened to the cries of those we have murdered.

True Freedom Comes from Following the Bible’s Teachings

There are too many of us who prefer to let the media do our thinking for us. Should we disagree, many of us are too intimidated to ever speak out with conviction. As we let time go by, our godly convictions begin to slip away and we become numb. Eventually, we may even support that which we had earlier condemned. This is called the “searing of a conscience.” It happened in Hitler’s Germany and it is happening today. How can we bring a dead conscience back to life? How can we know the difference between right and wrong? As was just established, we cannot merely “listen to our heart” and follow what seems best at the time. Some of the most horrifying deeds in history have been done by those who were following whatever moral code was most convenient at the time. Freedom is not doing whatever suits our fancy at the moment. That will only bring slavery and sorrow to our souls. True freedom is having the power to know what is right and to choose accordingly. But how can we choose, if we do not know? How can we obtain true freedom?

You shall know the TRUTH and the TRUTH shall set you free. John 8:32

We must cleanse our minds by washing them with water through the WORD. Ephesians 5:26

God’s WORD is the Bible — ancient, yet ageless and seething with life. It will clean our thinking and bring life to our sin-deadened minds so we can see what He sees and feel what He feels. It will reveal our very thoughts to ourselves.

For the WORD of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Hebrews 4:12

Respect for God, His creation, and His Holy WORD, is the only way we will ever find true freedom.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, but fools despise wisdom and discipline. Proverbs 1:7

Wisdom and compassion cannot be found outside of God for He is wisdom and He is love. Long before heaven and earth were made, and long after they disappear, His WORD will remain. On the Day of Judgement, abortion and every other atrocity we have tried to justify will be shown for the evil it is. We must seek God now, while we have the time to do it! Today is the day of salvation.

It is not too late to repent and turn our hearts back to the Lord. We can bring healing and life to this land that we love if we will humble ourselves before God’s mighty right hand.

If my people, who are called by my name, and humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14

God Loves You!

If you are planning an abortion, please reconsider. Though your situation may seem hopeless, God will work something beautiful in your life if you trust and obey Him. Choosing to “remove” your problem will only create new ones. Michah 6:7: “Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” You will have to bear the guilt of your abortion or else harden your heart to not feel guilty. God loves both you and your child very much, and if you feel incapable of raising him or her, there are thousands of couples who have waited years for the chance to adopt a baby. Though it may be difficult to give it away, you will have given it the greatest gift of all–life. As Mother Theresa put it so simply “Love means to be willing to give until it hurts.” Give your child to a family that will truly love it. You can make the dreams of a childless couple come true… and you can bless the heart of God.

If you have already had an abortion, please do not feel that this was written only to bring you under guilt and condemnation. What is done is done and cannot be changed. God has your child in heaven with Him and longs to forgive you if you ask Him to. Once God forgives a sin, He forgets it, and DOES NOT HOLD IT AGAINST YOU ANY LONGER! Please do not hold against yourself what God has forgotten. “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I, even I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake and remembers your sins no more” (Isaiah 43:18, 25). Receive His love, for He loves you just as much as the child you lost. He already took your sin and bore it upon Himself so you would not have to bear the punishment, which would be eternal separation from Him. He knows the agony you’ve gone through better than any other, for He was there too, with you. Open your life to Him and let Him give you a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair. He will make you into an oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor (Isaiah 61:3).

In conclusion, the words of God ring out as clearly now as they did over 3,000 years ago:

This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your children may live, and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. Deuteronomy 30:19-20

From: Elder Steven P. Miller Saturday, April 15, 2023 @ParkermillerQ, Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6 Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman, https://www.tumblr.com/gatekeeper-watchman Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElderStevenMiller https://www.facebook.com/StevenParkerMillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller,#Eldermiller1981

[the-rebel-archivist]

Breaking the Cycle

Have a little Dad!Anders this morning!

Prompt: Legacy: The LI’s thoughts as they watch Hawke discover and learn about their father wishing their child would not be a mage. 

“Look, Varric, he’s so clever already!” Hawke said excitedly as she magicked a small tongue of flame just out of reach of her son, who was trying to reach it with his tiny, chubby fingers.

“He’s got your self-preservation instincts, I’ll give you that.” The dwarf grimaced as he gingerly handed the baby to her as though it was a ticking bomb, then wiped his hands discreetly on his pants. Hawke didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care; she generally refused to hold any babies who weren’t Liam as well. Varric hadn’t had much of a choice when she had thrust him into his arms and looked glad to be rid of him.

She smiled at the infant, who smiled back with a wide, toothless grin. “You’re a charmer just like your daddy, aren’t you?” she said with a laugh and a tilt of her head towards Anders. “Who’s the best little tainted fade baby in the whole wide world? You are!”

He hated when she called him that. It was a reminder that Liam should by rights never have existed, between his Grey Warden taint and her inadvertently carrying him physically through the Fade. The descriptor also brought to mind memories of the Wardens at Weisshaupt trying to ‘convince’ them to stay so that they could study the miracle child. It was not fair, not to him, not to Hawke, and especially not to Liam. And so they had run, perhaps unwisely, straight to Kirkwall and entered Varric’s new viscount residence under cover of darkness. 

“Hello, Thedas to Blondie? She’s asking you if you can take the fledgling for a bit. I could use her help down at the docks to clean up some of the mess you made.” Varric’s words roused him from his thoughts and he locked eyes with his partner, who stared back with more seriousness and concern than she usually did.

“You can, can’t you, Anders?” There was hesitation, maybe even some fear in her voice. He didn’t like that he had put it there.

“Of course he can, Hawke, it’s his kid too,” Varric said as he moved to collect his crossbow, already presuming his answer. 

Anders understood Hawke’s reticence. It had been two months and he still hadn’t bonded with the baby. Sure, he held him and took his fair share of turns caring for him so that she could sleep, even changed diapers, but he didn’t play with him the way she did. In truth, he was afraid to.

He nodded and told her to be careful.

“Haven’t found a scrape I couldn’t get out of yet,” she said with a wink as she placed their son in the crook of his arm. The child began to cry as soon as she wasn’t holding him; her mouth turned down briefly and she looked as though she wanted to snatch him back. 

“We’re going to be fine, love,” he told her. Kissing the boy’s forehead, she told him to be good - whether she meant him or the baby was anyone’s guess - and then walked out with Varric quickly before she could lose her resolve.

The sitting room was small and richly furnished, albeit for someone with exceedingly poor taste; either Varric had done it as a joke or had retained the gaudy furnishings from the estate’s previous owners and never bothered to redecorate. Without Hawke in the room, confined as it was, it seemed somehow massive and empty. He sat down on a couch covered in a pattern with colours that he thought clashed horribly, but someone must have imagined looked nice. Liam began to cry again and Anders held out his hand to try to distract him. When the boy took his finger in his surprisingly strong little hand, he turned his head down to him and studied the boy.

“He looks so much like you,” Hawke had said when he was born. He could see it now; Liam had fine, downy blond hair and a nose that, while currently tiny and straight, looked as though it might curve like his with time. They had wondered if he would have magic. It seemed likely, but the Maker so often laughed at the plans of mortals that there could be no certainty. It was such an odd turn of events - both of them hoped that he would be a mage. Hoped. He could never have imagined such a thing when he had been in the Circle. But if they were to live as two apostates on the run, why not make it three?

The words of Malcolm Hawke to Hawke’s mother in the Grey Warden prison in the Vimmark Mountains rang in his ears. “I hope it takes after you, love. I would wish this magic on no one.” She hadn’t. He remembered the way her face had fallen when she heard his hope for her. There had always been some reverence in the way that she referred to her father before that, a degree of hero worship, even. He had kept her and her sister hidden and had taught them all he could about how to master their abilities. But he hadn’t wanted any of it. When her father came up in conversation after that her words about him were always carefully neutral, skirting around anything that could remind her of how she now knew he had felt. She had refused to speak of that part of the adventure for weeks until one evening when they had lain down to sleep and everything was quiet. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard her voice.

“Do you think he even wanted me at all, Anders?” she asked him. “Having me forced them to run. And then I was the opposite of what he wanted.”

“Your father? Don’t be ridiculous, of course he did.” He had pulled her against him, breathing in the slight scent of lilacs that seemed to follow her and running his fingers down the softness of her bare back as he let her tell him what she had bottled up for so long.

“He wanted me to be normal. Not like I am. Not like him. I didn’t piece it together until now. We realized I was a mage when I boiled some water without a fire because I was impatient and it took too long. He left on a weeklong trip for the city the day after and made it seem like it had been planned. I don’t think it was anymore.

“My magic… it’s wonderful. It’s who I am. It’s woven into the fabric of my existence. I can’t imagine wishing to deprive me of it. I know Bethy didn’t always like it, but I wonder sometimes if she would have been happy with it if it hadn’t needed to be so secret, if it was more accepted.

“I’m glad that we won’t have children. But if by some miracle we did, I would want it to have what I have. What we have. Maybe it’s selfish. But hang consequences.” 

He hadn’t agreed then. The concept was nice, a family sharing magic, understanding each other, but in practice was it right to hope for someone to live in constant fear? There seemed to be no certainty for anyone, mage or not, now though. It hadn’t seemed to matter at the time anyway.

Liam was falling asleep, his blinks growing longer and longer. He still gripped Anders’ finger tightly. They hoped that he would be a mage, but what if he weren’t? Some feeling deep within him told him that setting an expectation of what he would be in order for them to be happy was unjust. Whatever he was, whether he was magical or not, it would be enough. They would love him just the same. He would love him.

He paused in his thoughts and stared unseeingly at the wall. He loved him. But he had done such a poor job of showing it. When Hawke had been upset by her father’s words, he had felt only envy for her. At least she hadn’t lost Malcolm’s love. She hadn’t been turned in by her own father, shackled by Templars in front of her mother and hauled away, because of an unchangeable, innate part of her being.

The way he didn’t seem able to talk to or play with his son - it was how his father had treated him. It was unjust. It was wrong. He was only a child, he hadn’t chosen to be born with magic. Liam was just as innocent. 

He held the baby closer and quietly sang a lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was small. He would do better. Justice demanded it. As long as he drew breath Liam would never feel as alone as he and Hawke had.

[xladymalice]

Reposting this, because Tumblr is a bitch

[Updated 28.08.17]

My first try on the Swapfell Dawn Asgore and Toriel designs!

I will add some more information about them later!

Name changes will happen. I will give Toriel and Asgore new nicknames, so all know this is my version of them.

SFD Toriel - “The heartless Beauty”

Toriel was known to be a kind queen who tried to settle down the ongoing war between the bordering countries. From young age she had to meet the expectations of the elder advisors and give up much from her childhood. Her only purpose was not ruling over the country: it was giving birth to a strong son.

“Only a strong queen can give birth to a healthy son.”

Even her mother praid her every evening, that only true beauty was worshipped. True beauty was always connected to true pain. But in this world it didn’t seem to matter.

Toriel ignored the harsh education she received and tried to change this world, but it became worse the clearer it got that the Underground was doomed never to see the surface again. She tried to find solutions. So her country would find their hope again to stand through all war and pain.

Toriel put her entire hope into giving birth to a true hero who would change everything. She became desperate, trying to get strong and to display true beauty, even if it was just on the surface.

The day came where she met Asgore who seemed to be the perfect match up for her. He was not only of royal blood but also a true warlord with unbelievable strength. Even though she was mostly driven by the mere obsession of becoming a proud mother she fell in love with the gentle tyrant* (See Asgore).

After many attempts that worsened Toriel’s determination she finally got pregnant and gave birth to a healthy boy. She put all of her hope and strenght into educating and raising the boy, not allowing Asgore to interfere with a single thing. In fact, she barely let him close to his own child. Asgore was pushed aside and put on the throne to rule over the country until Asriel was ready for it.

In these 6 years Toriel let herself go, just focused on her child and tried to be the best mother. She balanced the education between being a good successor and being a child, but she lost trck of reality nontheless. Asriel was burdened with all of her hopes and dreams of the future, that it became his destiny to try and fail.

One day Asgore lost his temper, locked Toriel away and tried to beat some sanity into her (mostly verbally, it was literally one slap into her face). He was tired of barely seeing his own child. And he was especially tired of seeing his son as an empty shell that was filled with Toriel’s selfish dreams that she couldn’t fulfill herself.

Unlucky for both Asriel decided to meet his fate when he finally had the chance to move freely. So he ended up dying. (Yes, his character is not swapped. I have my reasons for this)

Toriel lost her hope with her child gone. Instead of trying to understand what Asriel tried, she blamed Asgore for the loss of her son. Grief and despair overcame her until it swallowed her up entirely. Then her wrath took over and formed her into a completely different queen. She trained, got her old beauty back and kicked Asgore of her throne. In fact, she battled him with some unfair tricks on her sleeve and won the battle.

Since that day Asgore had to wear the collar with the small bell around his neck. She forced him down, made some kind of tool out of him and lost her love for him.

Since the loss of her child, Toriel hunted down pregnant monsters and killed every unborn kid if it was a boy. At times she waited for them to give birth to decide their fate then.

Sometimes she took away newborns and made them her new soldiers. Female babies were mostly ignored, but she tended to act by mood: so girls died, became slaves or even worse.

Toriel couldn’t touch kids of nobility or high ranking monsters. This is one of the reasons Gaster did not lose his sons.

Toriel was not always succesful in hunting down monster kids.

Many male babies were raised in hidden chambers. They got dressed up as girl for a long time.

Toriel doesn’t let her people rest. So she regularly tries to find male young monsters and force them into her army.

Toriel still seeks a new child, but because of her brutal ways to get back to her own beauty, she damanged her own organs too much. Her soul also does not allow to bear a new life.

Angry and desperate about not being able to give birth again, she basically hunted down potential new “sperm and magic donors” to get pregnant. (I will explain how monster pregnancy works soon.) She is known to have had many affairs.

Asgore was not able to act against her will nor could he stop what was happening after.

Toriel ignored her husband, used him as a tool and made him work every day until he became a spiritless monster. So she could try to find someone else who would make her wish come true.

Toriel still believes in the saying “Only the beautiful and wealthy rule the world. Only a strong women gives birth to a healthy child.”  So she’s training herself a lot and…. going far ways to stay beautiful.

It is said that she drinks blood of the unborn. It is also said that she eats monster souls to stay young. Rumours also say that she is devouring kids who didn’t meet her expectations.

Sadly, these rumours are true.

SFD!Asgore

His story is probably one of the most common and sad ones.

Born into a rich and aristocratic family of warriors he stepped into his father’s boots and tried to meet his entire family’s expectations. Unlike you may think, he had a quite pleasant childhood because he was not a single child. At least he was surrounded by boys and girls at the same age too.

Still, it was hard for him to become strong like his father. He knew he had to take over the army at full age. So he was always in some kind of rush. He avoided distracting himself too much. This meant almost no interaction with others even though he wanted to.

Asgore had many friends nonetheless. Also, he was the small hero for his own family… he was always supporting the old and his mother. He values women a lot. His respect for the female race is incredibly high. That’s why he treats every lady with greatest kindness and politeness.

He knew if he succeeded following his father’s path that he could choice any bride he wanted to have. So it seemed that it was worth the effort. After all…. he had someone in his mind when it came to marriage. Asgore was pretty mature at a young age - influenced by parents and education. Therefore he has known his goal since he was a teen.

He met Toriel at a large banquet for the first time and fell in love at once. It was not only the beauty of this certain girl but her warm radiance. He knew that she would make the perfect bride to him. His goal was set and his determination rose.

Asgore managed to take over his father’s army and serve the royalty. Still, his dream to get to marry Toriel seemed in vain. His desired girl was picky, mostly hidden by her family and seemingly out of range. He figured that he had to become even better to impress her.

Only after the won war against the southern bordering country Toriel noticed him finally. Back then Asgore didn’t know he made a huge mistake…

Choosing Toriel would seal his fate.

Actually, Asgore had better choices. It was kind of the social’ demand that he married her. It was also blind admiration towards the beauty and the warm smile that made him choose her. He didn’t really know her… and this would become the biggest problem.

Asgore and Toriel lived happily for a long while. Sure, he didn’t understand why Toriel was so obsessed with getting pregnant… but who was he to deny his beautiful queen? His queen, who made him king. Who was beautiful and nice to him…

who had this kind heart, right?

But why would a kind heart deny you meeting your own child then?

Asgore was the happiest man on earth - knowing his queen finally got pregnant - until the child was born.

Then, the pain was unavoidable.

Asgore suffered from not being able to meet his own flesh and blood… his child. his son.

He had been so proud to hear that it would be a boy. He had wanted to teach him things… to show him a better life… to show him how not to collabs to the burdens set on you.

The opposite happened and Toriel burdened everything on the tiny child who was just unlucky to be born into her laps.

Asgore tried to get closer to Toriel after she denied him his son but even this was in vain. It was like she had never loved him but his strength. Bit by bit Asgore realised his mistake to fall in love with a desperate witch.

While his son grew in these few years Asgore noticed many changes in Toriel. She didn’t only let herself go and force him ruling over the country, she was basically unfaithful. She just didn’t had the time to actually betray him….

and he knew this. He watched over her from afar, trying to keep her out of trouble.

Even thought he slowly became depressed he still loved her and tried to believe in her stupid ideals. Maybe she would let him close to his son one day…

The day  didn’t come…

Asgore’s patience died.

He had enough watching his queen’s action and locked her up. He just wanted to make her understand how wrong she was. That she couldn’t control her child like a good doll.

He knew that his son suffered from everything Toriel did. Asgore didn’t like to admit it but he found that Toriel was a terrible mother. Especially after she announced to the people about their born son.

Well, Asgore forgot one thing that day. No one looked after Asriel. So the kid left and tried to fulfill his goal, sacrificing himself while doing so.

To some degree Asgore knew this was his own fault. He blamed himself… he blamed himself a lot. But he knew it was mainly Toriel who drove the kid into his own madness.

Asgore felt terribly reminded of Gaster who tried to “create new life” in vain all these years. He realised that his queen must have suffered the same weird obsession as Gaster did and tried to change her mind….

to give it another try…. to rule the kingdom together.

His try went terribly wrong…

After waiting many months to talk properly to Toriel the said queen just defeated him with unfair methods and made him kiss the ground she stood on. To demonstrate her power over him, she cut of his horns and put a magical collar around his neck in order to have true control over him.

Asgore knew it had been a mistakes to go to her.

And he knew one more thing:

He regretted letting her win with these methods.

She cut off his horns in public. She harassed and degraded him in front of his beloved people. And she announced that he was not worthy of his throne…. so he became more a slave than anything else.

Asgore wanted to fight it.

But he couldn’t.

He had believed in this woman. He had tried to believe in her dreams and ideals. Being betrayed by the women he gave his heart to was just too much for him to handle at that time. (especially with the loss of his son)

Asgore was left to follow her orders and do whatever she wanted…

And he watched… silently… everything that happened.

Everything he saw made him fall into more grief… into a state of hopelessness… until he barely cared anymore.

He decided to do nothing anymore… his queen wasn’t his queen anymore but a desperate slut.

Asgore once was a good king. He has to rule with an iron fist but he was gentle.

Now, he is just a shell of his old self…. with a hidden, boiling rage that might explode somewhen in the future…

more follows. (maybe)

This is the story for Dawn. Once Dawn is done, I’ll probably explain how the timelines and the interaction with Chara looks like.

[girlobsessed21]

The 100 6x06 analysis: A night-without-blood, only tears

Loved this episode. We got a glimpse of the old Bellamy, albeit small, but he was there. The pacing was better. We finally got to meet Sheidheda. And, I called it in my predictions post last week, Clarke Griffin’s coming back. 

Is it weird to watch this show knowing Bob and Eliza are married? Not for me, I separate the characters from the actors easily. Just once again, I’m thrilled they found their happily ever after. Please check out the wedding gift donation.

Madi crossing to the dark side

Obviously, this is the worse to come out of the whole body-snatching ordeal. Josephine couldn’t care less about her new daughter. Although Gaia is Madi’s teacher, she’s still her subordinate. Without any guidance, sweet little Heda falls straight into the exploiting claws of her evil predecessor. 

I didn’t think this would rise so soon, but I fear we might have a new Bloodreina on our hands. The Sanctumites killed Madi’s mother, she will retaliate with full force and who could blame her. If you took mine for self-serving reasons, I’ll want vengeance too. 

Somehow, I still think those machines strapped to her head is Josephine’s handiwork, wanting something from the flame. Or maybe it’s a way to pull Madi back from the dark hole she’s fallen into. 

Either way, it looks like she’s becoming a villainous character who wants revenge and I hope she succeeds. Russel may have goodness inside, yet he still murdered an innocent person to bring his daughter back. Ryker, on the other hand, is a quizzical one.

The 100 episode 6 - Return of the cockroach

We all knew he would take that deal but, as expected, terms and conditions apply. Clarke’s dead, there’s nothing they can do about it. Teaming up with Josie means they get the Sanctumites’ help with survival and he earns eternal life. 

It makes sense for him, Clarke wasn’t his favorite person and what’s done is done. Obviously, he knows convincing Bellamy will be a lot harder.

That was all of our reactions. And then he goes and spoils it all by saying some stupid like it’s what Monty would have wanted. Oomf the trump card. No violence, no eye-for-an-eye, just look forward and do better. Oh, and it’s what Clarke would have wanted too.

In some twisted way, he’s right. His way saves everyone else including Bellamy and the planet or moon or whatever. Both Murphy and Josephine’s manipulation this episode is vulgar yet brilliant. Richard and Eliza, you killed it.

Meanwhile, in the woods, the badass trio is being summoned

May I just highlight this line: “Forty vestil virgins and a side dish of none of your damn business.” Man, I love Diyoza too bits. And Xavier. And Octavia. And I hope Marie gets that Emmy nomination because she deserves the hell out of it.

So, Diyoza learns about Gabriel’s rebellion but refuses to join in order to save her daughter’s life. She’s not your conventional mother hen but the way she looks out for Octavia and her child is a clear depiction of her ability to care. 

How did Xavier know Diyoza is expecting a girl???

There are tons of rumors that Xavier is Gabriel. I don’t think he is. Or rather, I hope he’s not. I want Gabriel to be an anomaly as much as he “lives” in one. Perhaps he can only exist inside it because of his age? But he’s calling them for a reason and I bet that reason is “death to primes” and Clarke’s resurrection.

I’m still sticking to my time travel theory of Diyoza meeting Hope and Octavia facing off with Bloodreina. I’d love to see what Xavier’s battles might be. Also, I’m pretty sure these three’s journey is the conclusion to all of their problems and the Blakes’ reconciliation. The villains of earth become the heroes of Sanctum was foreshadowing, I'm certain.

Abby, wtf is wrong with you?

How on earth does she not see through the inconsistencies in her daughter’s behavior? Echo figures it out before she does for heaven's sake. And after everything they’ve done in the past, she decides it’s alright to resurrect the man she loves at the cost of someone else.

Will she resort back to drugs after this too? Clearly, she can’t deal with the thing’s she’s done. Turning Jake in. Becca’s lab. The dark year. And now she’s doing it again. All because her daughter tends to think it’s okay and doesn’t want to lose her. Open your damn eyes, Clarke would never ask you to do something that selfish.

Raven and Ryker

Can someone please shut Raven up. Her self-righteous attitude this season is sickening. She did bad things too. Asking Clarke to kill Lexa. Sacrificing Murphy so Finn could live. Refusing to give Abby medicine for radiation poisoning. Has she forgotten? But worst of all, she left the hard decisions up to Bellamy and Clarke and now she’s mad because they made them.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the piece of her mind she gave Ryker. But the condescending way in which it’s done is annoying. He clearly needs to hear it and she touched where it hurts. Is it wrong to like him and hope he survives? Out of all the primes, it seems like he and Gabriel are the only ones with a conscience. Russel’s is debatable.

They are not gods. What makes them so special? Knowledge? Intellect? Wisdom? And creating a realm of worship so people would sacrifice themselves for you is revolting and everything but divine or remarkable.

Yes, Echo gets a narrative!

The woman is smart, dangerous and loyal. So far, she’s been nothing but Bellamy’s girlfriend and subject, so I’m glad she finally got a storyline of her own. I’m sure the mercy kill of the guard was used purely to show her compassion, which her boyfriend questioned a few episodes ago. Many people still do not like her. 

Being an amazing spy, she extorts Jade for information and figures out that Clarke’s gone. Her natural inclination is to attack which Bellamy, to my surprise, shoots down. That look in her eye suggests she’s not done though. She’ll probably save Jade’s life in exchange for being a double agent. Which could be a great asset to our heroes.

Tasya Teles said that her favorite dynamic of the show is yet to come and that Echo is bisexual. I can see the two of them partnering up and that’s a team I both route for and ship. They’re equals, they have similar backgrounds, they’re caring in a complex way. Why not be those things for each other?

In the end, it all boils down to Bellamy and Clarke

Bellamy’s tears, tears, and more tears this episode was heartbreaking. Don’t hate me, it wasn’t as convincing as, “We can’t lose Clarke, we can’t lose her!” or “I left her to die and we all die anyway!” though. Why is his mourning stressed this way? Maybe because he lost someone he loves like Russel suggested.

Acting out of anger, he tried to choke Russel for killing her and I imagine the following stopped him: “You have such a big heart Bellamy... but to make sure we survive, you have to use this too.” Especially because he later states that we survive, it’s what Clarke would have wanted.

Tears welled in my eyes when he told Madi. And that hug gave me painful father-daughter feels. At least he’ll try to keep his promise to Clarke and take care of her. Bellamy, you better, that girl is taking a wrong turn. Even if I agree with her cause, following a venomous lead will land her in scorching hot water.

I really would have loved to see Miller, Jackson and Jordan's grief too. And it looked like Spacekru didn't care much after she saved their lives countless times. That scene was underwhelming, truly.

Now, as I predicted, Clarke appears in Josephine’s dreams when she finally sleeps. Which images haunt her? Roan, Abby, Madi, Lexa, Bellamy. I saw tweets of other’s but those were clear to me. Accompanied by Abby, Bellamy and her own words to Lexa. The most important people in her life, right?

I knew this would happen, something obviously went wrong with the insertion or Clarke is just a fighter. I don’t think it has anything to do with synthetic nightblood. Josephine, honey, you’re in for the wildest and scariest rollercoaster ride of your life. Clarke Griffin is a force to be reckoned with and she won’t stop until her prison break is successful. 

I cannot imagine the experience of living in your own mind to be pleasant. Especially not while fighting Josephine Lightbourne for power. Poor, poor, Clarke.

Bellamy was the first to notice Josephine isn’t Clarke and I’m sure he’s gonna realize that she still exists too. The devil will let something slip or act weird and he’ll pick up on it. Either that or Jade informs Echo. Once he solves that puzzle, he will stop at nothing until she returns to him. But Bellamy, please keep your eye on Madi throughout, do not follow in Abby’s footsteps.

Will Clarke’s dreams hold a confession of feelings? Will Bellamy confess to Josephine? Will there be any sort of confession?

Last week someone called my Becho theories typical. Fine, I may be biased but I only write what I see on my screen and if you disagree, I’d love to know why.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Jess!

You have been accepted for the role of LILY EVANS! We really enjoyed reading your application. We especially loved the moments in your app where you showed that Lily is not perfect. You really gave us a clear view on both her strengths and her flaws. Her failed career as a healer was just an example of that! We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Jess

AGE: 23

TIMEZONE: GMT+10

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I tend to be fairly active, my goal is usually not to let 3 days pass without doing my replies and I generally meet this (unless I have left a uni assignment to the last minute!)

ANYTHING ELSE: N/A for triggers

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lily Geraldine Evans

AGE: 21

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisfemale, she/her. Pansexual/Conceives of herself as heterosexual

BLOOD STATUS: Muggle-born

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: No thanks!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lily Evans was made Head Girl in her final year at Hogwarts for more reasons than simply being a figurehead for Albus Dumbledore’s pro Muggle-born ideologies – although certainly, that helped. Known by many of her teachers and peers for being quick-witted and intelligent, the fact that she came to magic later than most of her peers did not hold her back for long. Lily’s intelligence soon helped her excel at magic, seemingly gifted at charming and conjuring all manner of magical items. She has a particular strength for defensive magic and healing, while her fondness for Potions rests in her stubborn and comforting belief that it is the most similar to the Muggle ways she employed in her youth, that the simple Muggle methods of hands and brain are just as powerful. Offensive magic is more of a struggle for Lily, she is by no means a natural fighter, although it is something she determinedly works on.

Also known for her kindness, Lily has an open heart and is truly an extrovert. She delights in the company of people and is always teasing someone or other, a fond smile and a ringing laugh never far from her countenance. In fact, lightly teasing others is her foremost means of showing affection, though this is something that never (or at least, rarely) strays into cruelty.

Kindness, however, is by no means softness. It is true that Lily believes in forgiveness, but she also has high standards and expects them to be met. Her love is not unconditional, and nor is her forgiveness. Her principles and ideals are close to her heart and for others to stray for them or betray them is to be met with Lily’s anger. She is forgiving, but not endlessly so, and does not forgive unless the merit is there, unless she decides the person deserves it. She is also used to being in the position of judgement, not to being the judged, which tends to bring out her self-righteous side, being so clear on what she believes to be right and wrong. When Lily is in the wrong, she struggles to admit it, having a strong sense of pride. She can become prickly and defensive, not so much playing the role of peacemaker as she is inclined to retreat, wounded. It’s a part of herself she’d often only seen in conflict with Petunia - maybe even a part of herself that mirrored Petunia. Resentment. And a sense of selfish pride, wounded self-righteousness so deep, it was easier to push the loved one away than apologise, than try to repair damage done. It’s not a quality Lily likes about herself, but it’s also one intrinsic, perhaps learnt by both at their parents’ knee.

Rightfully a Gryffindor, Lily is fierce and true. Her ideals always lead her to action, she is not one to sit back, even if she is not necessarily suited for a fight by nature. That does not stop her. Bravery runs quick and deep within her, and in fact, the more opposition she receives, the more she is inclined to push back. Her bravery then, extends to a defiant streak – even to provocation. Lily tends to take pleasure in talking back to those she scorns, in daring them to insult her, in attempting to prove herself above their scorn. There is indeed something desperate inside of her, a thirst to prove herself better than all that has been said about her kind.

Behind this solid sense of pride, however, lies a more sensitive side. Disapproval, disappointment - Lily hates letting people down, associating conflict with rejection. For that she can probably thank Petunia. When she found magic, she lost a best friend, her sister. When she found magic did not want her, she lost a best friend yet again, Severus. It is one thing to deal with the rejection of a whole world (or at least, so the Death Eaters and their allies often seem, a crushing weight) – that, Lily can shrug off, shoulders high, defiant until the end. But the two people she thought cared for her most, loved her most … that can only hurt, even still, years later. Lily remains insecure that she is not truly loved, that ultimately, she will lose people, no matter how much they seem to care for her now.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Lily grew up in the industrial town of Cokeworth, in the Midlands of England. The daughter of Adrian and Geraldine Evans, she has an older sister, Petunia Evans (now Dursley). For many years, her family was a close one, her parents strived hard to make it that way. The Evans parents used flower names for both of their two daughters. This was not particularly due to a family tradition or any reason other than that Geraldine Evans liked the idea of connecting her two children to each other. She was always glad they were born so close in age because she never had any siblings and wished for a sister for a best friend. The girls’ closeness growing up delighted her, at least until it ended with a letter in green ink, carried by a bird.

Four lends itself neatly to division, and it was true enough for the Evans family, Lily her father’s daughter and Petunia all their mother’s. This is true in appearance as much as personality: Lily’s looks are from the Evans side of the family, she shares her red hair with her father and both are more heavily built, while Petunia looks more like their mother - pale hair and bony features.

But at first, there was no problem, not for any of them. Lily was the fearless one, climbing trees and playing in the mud – but Petunia did it all with her, too. That was the thing – the part Lily cannot forget. Petunia always followed her, despite not caring for dirt and mud mess, and Lily worshipped her for it.

Meanwhile, Geraldine was cloying, clingy, she tried to hold on hard to her girls, even Lily, who would disappear to a world she could not know. Adrian was quieter, stiller – Lily could always come to him. It’s easier now, when she has so much to hide from her family, barely seeing them, desperate to keep them from danger or any association with her. She avoids going home, missing her family, but struggling under the weight of the lies, as she tries to keep any knowledge of the war from them. Adrian asks much less of Lily. The downside to that, of course, is that he lets her slip away. Though generally seen as having taken after her father, Lily has something of her mother’s nature, too, something shared with Petunia. She can never let things go, her heart is one that holds on. To the good and the bad.  

OCCUPATION:

Lily always wanted to become a Potioneer, brewing potions was her favourite subject and the part of magic she liked most, even if she was never as talented as Severus. She liked the fact that potions took brains more than it took magic, that it used hands, not a wand. But, with a war going on around her, it seemed decidedly less than useful. She became a Healer Trainee instead, thinking she would be in the best position to help others and to learn important spells she might use to save those in the Order at a time of crisis. The problem was that Lily was never truly dedicated to this role. Yes, many victims of the Death Eaters came into the hospital, but it was rarely the case that Trainee Healers were entrusted with cases of Dark magic. Lily was mostly fixing the accidental magic mishaps underage wixen got themselves into - dull and draining work. Even more than that, her higher loyalty was always to the Order, the war remaining her priority. Lily had less and less time to study the healing magic she needed for her job, focusing far more of her energy on missions for the Order, to the extent she even missed shifts at times. It only got worse as she began working with the Task Force - finding something she was truly passionate about meant she kept even less time for her Healing studies. She wasn’t exactly fired, but it became clear that she was not performing to the required level and had to leave the program. Even though she was hardly happy at the hospital, this fact burns. Lily Evans, who was supposed to have such a bright future. The failure is a blemish on her record, yet another thing that has gone wrong in her life since leaving Hogwarts, yet another way she seems to be incapable of living up to the image everyone has of her.

As it is, she works solely for the Order now and lives off James’ money. This fact too is something that weighs Lily down, that she can never stop thinking about. She never wanted to be dependent on him, on anyone. Sure, she didn’t make much as a Trainee Healer, couldn’t contribute her fair share to their home, but at least she had something of her own. It’s something at the back of her mind whenever she is with James.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Lily has a desire to impress, she always had. Somehow surrounding herself with rebels, all of them heedless and reckless in her eyes, though very much loved for it - she herself respected authority. That is, if the authority deserved to be respected. Sometimes it crosses her mind, the fact that she, of all people, is technically a vigilante, and she can only laugh. A bitter, somewhat frightened laugh, but with hints of amusement all the same. There are still people she can look to for the approval she craves in the Order – she respects Moody, Shacklebolt, Dumbledore. And she believes in them, in the path they’re setting out for all of them, but … it gets harder and harder every day.

Perhaps that’s why the Task Force means so much to her. It’s palpable success, it’s a way to actually help people, to see the results before them. Especially the Muggle-borns – the people who, like herself, are caught up in something that threatens to overwhelm them, who deserve to have someone stand up for them and affirm their (her) right to be in this world. Fighting (and often losing) endless battles with the Death Eaters, missions that seem to go nowhere, do nothing, even if there is supposedly some greater scheme – Lily feels herself breaking the longer it goes on, the less light there seems to be at the end of this long drawn out struggle. She knew it wasn’t going to be over in a year – but knowing that, and living it, are two very different things.

This wasn’t supposed to be her life. Failed job. Failed war. And now more than ever, failed relationships. This was never supposed to be Lily, who everyone thinks of as a bright spark, as hope and kindness personified. It’s hard to let go of, that image, the perfect Lily Evans, something she clung to when she was reminded of her sister’s hate, of half the wizarding world’s hate. But she isn’t a bright spark, or at least, she doesn’t feel that way. Not anymore.  

SURVIVAL:

To be honest, Lily often feels her survival is a matter of her inconsequentiality. At Hogwarts, things seemed different. She was a bold symbol, the Muggle-born Head Girl, bright and clever and beloved. Practically a spit in the face to anyone who thought Muggle-borns were inferior – and there were plenty of students who showed her their displeasure. Lily faced them all proudly, though James’ support was something she depended upon, taking strength from the knowledge that he had her back, no matter who else despised her. She felt like she was making a difference. Now, even as an Order member – what’s she really doing for the war? That importance she used to have, it’s faded away now. She’s not especially successful, she’s not especially threatening or powerful … that doesn’t mean Lily isn’t careful, of course. Her home with James is well-protected and Lily takes Alastor Moody’s warnings very seriously. Constant vigilance indeed. But at the end of the day, there are times Lily thinks … she simply doesn’t matter. Not outside of being James Potter’s mudblood girlfriend, at any rate.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

Lily loves James, but she knows things are strained between them. Lily’s relationships are deeply characterised by respect – she is someone who cannot be happy with someone, even if she loves them, unless she can respect them. That hasn’t changed with James, she still admires him almost more than anyone else, for his strength and dedication, his idealistic nature. Most days, Lily thinks it’s her who is the problem. Nothing she does lately seems to be working out and this is no different. She knows he’s starting to catch on to her unhappiness and she wants to reach out, to tell him she hasn’t stopped caring for him, but something stops her. Maybe it’s just that sense of hopelessness, of burning out, the fear that she isn’t the person she once was anymore. How could he understand that – he’s never been anything but himself, never had to be afraid to be himself, never failed, and right now, he’s in the thick of it, the inner circle – of course he is. Everything has always come easy to James, born to success and brilliant in his own right.  It seems as if their paths after school are inverse, he with all the accomplishments (so high up in the Order, so trusted) and she with none. Even if he did fail, he wouldn’t be like her. The Muggle-born out of place, the Muggle-born who has failed to make her place in the Wizarding world (all those snide voices at the back of her mind – of course she was going to fail. Don’t they always? They don’t belong). She can’t talk to him about any of this. It’s easier to dedicate herself to the Task Force instead – but James doesn’t seem to understand that either.

Friendships have become more difficult than ever. It’s still easy to put her life into anyone in the Order’s hands. She trusts them with that. But Lily feels more isolated than ever. Hardly anyone seems to remember what they’re fighting for – to save people. To save lives. It’s all become about who is right and who is wrong (Lily forgetting that she too thinks of herself as right and the others as wrong). The people she would trust with her life feel less like friends the further they go into this war together. And yet Lily cannot stop reaching out, even to the friends who seem to greet her with distaste these days, disliking her priorities. Lily will always believe that friendship is important, that tenderness is important. It can’t be true that they are only soldiers these days, and nothing else.

With Severus coming to the Order, Lily will remain deeply conflicted. For so many years, a sign like this, that he was definitively, absolutely choosing her, siding with her, would have meant everything. But as so often with getting the thing you want most, by the time you get it, you can barely recognise it. Lily may well be more suspicious than anyone else, if only because she has been through this before. The desperation to trust him meeting with her deep suspicion that this is just another lie, that she never really knew him at all.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: 

Lily/James, Lily/Chemistry (I very much love writing Lily/James but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to exploring other things or exploring Lily/James in an untypical form. Chemistry is important, and one thing I find very interesting in this rp is the conflict and break down of relationships. On the other side, platonic relationships are very important to me, especially since we know so little of the friendships Lily had, I find them fascinating to develop and deconstruct.)

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

I would say Lily’s strongest bias is essentially tunnel vision. She has always tended to believe she knows right and wrong – and that her understanding of right and wrong is what is right and wrong. When it comes to things like the war, she utterly condemns those who choose to fight for the other side – and even, to an extent, those who remain neutral. While she tries to be accepting of it, that not everyone can fight, that people are torn by conflicting loyalties, that it may not be life or death for everyone, she can’t truly understand or respect how anyone could make that choice. Furthermore, she believes what she prioritises is most important. The more she turns to the Task Force, the less she will be able to understand how the others in the Order can so easily dismiss it.

Another bias is against dark magic, which she believes is wrong without exception and looks down on those who use it. This also extends to dark creatures – notably excluding werewolves, due to her long friendship with Remus Lupin (she also tends to be quite biased in favour of those she loves), but creatures such as Dementors, hags, vampires, giants, she tends to regard with fear and disgust. Her boggart would be a Lethifold - another Dark creature, highly aggressive and tending to attack people at night, as they sleep. It symbolises her fear of being defenceless and unable to act to protect those she loves, as well as her deep fear of Dark magic.

For privileges, obviously she lacks privilege in the wizarding world as a Muggle-born and is notably a target of the current war. I would say that lack of privilege is certainly something that spurs her on to protect others. She certainly resents the way she is treated by others and devalued simply for her birth. It’s something that colours her relationship with James – it’s not his fault, but she knows others look down on them being together. They might both well be better off if they weren’t together, in fact, being together makes them a target. As a witch of two worlds, Lily would also be aware of the fact that her privilege is very different in the Muggle world, being white. It’s interesting that in her relationship with James, the privilege would be reversed in the Muggle world. And in fact, Vernon and Petunia’s treatment of James suggests this very personally for Lily, and is something that angers her, yet at the same time, she does want to regain a good relationship with her sister.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 

There are a lot of aspects I find appealing – I like the way this rp uses multiple player threads so paras involve more than just two characters. It’s something I haven’t seen elsewhere and I find compelling for exploring the whole tapestry of the Order and how the organisation interacts with each other. The focus on the Order also appeals to me – I’m typically far more interested in ‘the good guys’ and especially in exploring the flaws and weaknesses of ‘the good guys’. Lily for one is presented as fairly saintlike in canon and it’s so interesting to deconstruct that image and find out about the real person she was, flaws, warts and all.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): N/A for the moment

ANYTHING ELSE? Nothing, thanks for considering me!

[staticscreenwriting]

It sounds so sweet // Angel Reyes

Synopsis: Lips of an Angel by Hinder is a cheesy song but it makes for a good story.

A/N: I have wanted to write about Angel since I watched the first episode. Please let me know your thoughts :) thanks. 

I guess we never really moved on It's really good to hear your voice saying my name It sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel

The wind is softly blowing through the curtains of the open window. The air is hot and sticky that night and Angel can hardly bear to sleep with even the sheets covering his body. His skin sticks to Bianca’s like they’re one person instead of two and it’s driving him crazy. How is anyone supposed to sleep like this.

He thinks back to another hot night many summers ago with another girl. Only that was different because the girl was different. Back then he couldn’t get close enough and if it meant he was forever intertwined with her, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat just so he didn’t have to let go.

But that was another life. Things were different then. He was different then.

There’s no sleeping happening anytime soon so he entangles his limbs from Bianca’s, crawls out of the bed and grabs his phones and cigarettes.

Sitting on the front porch in only his boxers and a wifebeater shirt feels way better than being stuck to another person and covered by what felt like a shit ton of fabric.

He takes one puff of the cigarette, then another as he stares into the night sky and wonders. Angel will never let anyone know this because he has a reputation to uphold after all, but his mind works on overdrive sometimes. Like there’s so many thoughts and they’re all so loud and none of them make proper sense. And he can’t explain it either. EZ is the one with the photographic memory. The smart one. He’s just — just Angel.

(Y/N) always understood, even when he didn’t. And when she didn’t understand she was there for him anyway. To let him ramble or just hold him.

It’s on cigarette number 2 that his phone starts to ring. Not the burner phone. His actual cellphone.

When he sees the name on the display he can’t suppress the chuckle leaving his lips. It’s not one of amusement though. He thinks that maybe the universe is playing a trick on him or it wants to fuck him over. He doesn’t know.

Why today of all days she’s calling him, he has no idea. There have been days where he hardly thought of her. So caught up in family shit and club business that there was no time to wallow in self pity in think back to the one meaningful relationship he ever had. The one he ruined for dumb and ultimately selfish reasons.

For a moment he thinks about ignoring the call, pretending like he didn’t hear it. But this is (Y/N), his (Y/N). She’s the one person outside of his family that can call him at any day of the year, at any time.

(Y/N) was, and he assumes still is, this wonderful warmth in his world. This bright light in the darkness. One good thing in a life that is so tainted by misery. By his mother dying, EZ getting locked up, his dad shutting everyone out. By all the things he’s seen and done with and for the club.

(Y/N) is that one spark that keeps reminding him there is good in the world. Even if it hasn’t been in his life for a few years now.

When he picks up, it feels like there’s a knot in his tongue and he’s unable to say anything. Like some stupid teenager or something. It’s ridiculous and he’s acknowledging that alright, but that’s just the effect she has on him.

“ Angel ? “ it’s been too long since he’s heard her voice. It feels really good. Especially when she’s saying his name. It sounds sweet. Like it comes straight from the heart. There’s no sultry promise of pleasure. No expectations. No disappointment, like when his father says it.

It’s like it was some kind of ethereal being that softly lulled his name into the phone.

“ Angel ? “ he notices then, that he still hasn’t said a word. He’s just too overcome with a mess of emotions to reply. It makes him feel so weak and out of control.

“ I’m sorry I called. I shouldn’t have called I — “

“ — no it’s okay “.

Really it’s not. Those are not the boundaries he set when he broke up with her. He wanted to quit this relationship cold turkey. To spare her the heartbreak of having to see him chose the club over her. When he joined the MC he knew she’d have to take be on the backburner for a while and she didn’t deserve that. She deserved the world. A world that was safe and happy. His was all but those things. And the last thing Angel ever wanted was to drag her into a life of constantly dancing on the tightrope between legality and crime.

And maybe, if he’s being completely honest with himself, maybe he also didn’t trust himself then. He was younger and more reckless and there were women at the club all but throwing themselves at him. He couldn’t even imagine the heartbreak he would cause (Y/N) if he ever as much as slipped up and touched another girl.

“ It’s so good to hear your voice “ she says and Angel can tell she’s been crying. It breaks his heart to think of her being sad. That’s all he ever wanted to shelter her from. Crying girls in itself he can hardly deal with, that is his soft spot for sure. But (Y/N) crying ? His girl crying ? That is an absolute no.

Only she isn’t his girl anymore. He has to remind himself of that.

“ Honey, why are you crying, is everything okay? “ it’s not like him to outright show that he’s concerned about someone, especially a girl. But this woman has been by his side when he was so close to the edge. There isn’t ever gonna be an instance where he doesn’t worry. Where he doesn’t care.

His heart is hers for the taking and he knows that’s fucked up because he’s the one who took it away from her again. But it will always be hers and that’s the sad truth of it all. So he buries the feelings deep down for no one to see and distracts himself with meaningless sex and fleeting flings with girls who are nice enough but don’t mean shit in the long run.

EZ doesn’t know that half of Angel’s heart is permanently missing because he let her go, pushed her away. His dad doesn’t either.

They don’t have to. EZ and Emily, that’s the tragic love story of this family. The one that comes with longing glances and questions of what-if. That’s the Hollywood worthy tragedy being put on show for anyone to witness and wallow in pain with the protagonists.

Angel would suffer in silence while hoping that he made that right decision.

“ I uh — sorry I’m calling so late. I just had a shit day at work and just went through some old pictures and came across some of us. I found one of us and EZ and Em and your dad. When they went to prom and your mom made us dress nice so we’d look good on a photo with them, do you remember ? “

Of course he remembers. Those were the days he was happiest. Those are the memories he goes back to when things get too overwhelming and sad and dark. When he hates himself too much for becoming such a bitter old fuck.

“ Yeah. Of course I do. I looked ridiculous. “

“ You looked handsome “

He blushes a little and immediately scolds himself for that. He’s in an MC for fucks sake. Bikers don’t blush because girls call them handsome.

Only he does anyway.

There’s a moment of silence between them but even through the phone they can both feel just how heavy the air is. How many unspoken words are hanging there. How many feelings they both forbid themselves to feel.

His eyes wander towards the front door. There’s a girl in there who worships the ground he walks on. Who dotes on him like a fucking housewife. It’s not fair to her to do this. But it’s not fair to lie to her either. To pretend like he’s perfectly in love and satisfied and happy when he’s not.

“ Angel ? “

“ Sorry It's kinda hard to talk right now. I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud “.

She takes a moment to reply and he hates himself even more now.

“ Is there — are you having a girl over ? “

What’s he supposed to say ? No ? That would be a lie ? Yes ? That’s just gonna hurt her. But he’s never been a liar. Not to the people he loves most at least.

“ Kinda yeah “

“ You seeing someone ? “

“ Mmh “

“ Oh “

“ Yeah “

“ Does she know you have an ex-wife ? “

“ Wife. You’re still my wife. “ he doesn’t really know why it means so much to him to set that fact straight, but it does. It means everything.

“ Wife. So does she ? “

“ Nah. I don’t think she has a clue “

And then she laughs and it’s like a million suns rising at once and that stupid butterfly metaphor finally makes sense. God, he’s missed her so much.

“ I guess we never really moved on, have we ? “

“ No “ he’s never going to but she doesn’t need to know that. Maybe it just takes her some time to forget him. That would be the ideal situation, he thinks. For her at least. To forget him and start a life she deserves with a man who can give her more than Angel could ever imagine giving to her.

He remembers one time he saw her at a grocery store with some guy who looked like he was as rich as he was cocky. They had an awkward conversation and the dude clearly didn’t like the way the two were still so familiar with each other. He started a huge fight outside of the store. Angel wanted to step in then but it wasn’t his place then and (Y/N) managed alright by herself, getting into her car and leaving the guy stranded on the curb. She never needed his help and yet he always offered because that’s what good husbands do.

“  Hey uh — about that rich kid I saw you with that one time. Does he know you're talking to me? Will this start a fight? Cause if it does, just let me know. I’ll teach that dude some manners. Tell him how to fucking treat a woman “.

She laughs again. His heart grows 3 sizes.

“ Angel, there is no ‘he’ anymore. I went on a few dates with him. The last time I saw him was that day when I left him at the grocery store. He was controlling and mean and he was jealous of you “

“ Jealous of me ? Why would a rich boy be jealous of me ? I mean, I know I’m good looking but still “

“ Because I love you and I will never love him “.

He’s not sure if that’s the moment he dies or actually starts to live. He knows his mom loved him. He knows EZ loves him. Most of the time he assumes his dad loves him. And for a long time he was sure of the fact that (Y/N) loved him. But that was the past. He thought that this was well over. With how he has treated her and all. With the pushing away. The no contact.

And yet after all their love apparently persisted.

Maybe they weren’t the tragic love story. Maybe they were the one that would last in the end.

“ You know, I dreamt of you the other day. And no it was not a sex dream “

“ Were we fighting giants squids again ? “ she asks, laughter clouding her words.

“ Nah. No squids this time. “

He also misses this about her. He could be so silly with her. Never annoying or dumb. With her it was endearing. It’s like for a short time he could shed the tough outer shell that has been built over time and just be dorky and fun. Like he got to be a kid again.

“ Was just you and I on a bike driving along the coast. Wasn’t anything special .”

“ That sounds lovely “

“ Yeah it does, doesn’t it”

“ Angel “ her voice is serious again and it scares him a little. “ I know why you broke up with me. I know that you thought that pushing me away and getting out of the relationship, the marriage, was gonna make me chase a dream that I didn’t even really have. Something you thought was bigger than you. Bigger than what we had and could have. You’ve done this with EZ before. You do it a lot. But maybe for once you should stop and think about what you deserve and that maybe you are the dream I’m chasing. Let yourself be happy for once. “

“ I don’t deserve you “

“ Yes you fucking do ! Angel I love you more than I have ever loved another person in my entire life. That has been a fact for years and it’s still a fact. It kills me to know that you deny yourself this happiness because you don’t think you’re worthy. Which isn’t true but even if it was. Suck it up, man. Some things you don’t have to earn. Some things you are just given. No fees. Nothing asked for in exchange. I love you. I love you still “.

There’s a girl inside his house, inside his bed. She’s tangled in his sheets and wearing his shirt. He has gorgeous eyes and luscious curls and a great smile.

And as he walks through the door and into the bedroom he knows that breaking that girls heart might just be the first thing he’ll ever do right in his life.

Her door is cherry red, like the lipstick marks she used to leave on his cheek. The ones EZ and his dad would always tease him about. The ones Angel wore like a trophy.

When he knocks, his mind is silent but his heart is beating a thousand miles an hour.

It doesn’t take a minute for her to open the door and be in his arms and my god, she’s so warm and soft and familiar.

And he still doesn’t think he deserves even a second of her time, an ounce of her love. But if she’s willing to give, who is he to deny ?

Her lips on his is a feeling so familiar and comfortable and yet so exciting still. He never wants to stop feeling this way.

“ You wanna come in ? “ she asks jokingly after they pull away, having to breath after all.

“ Yeah. Yeah I do. And I never wanna say goodbye “

“ You know what ? “ she says and placed another soft kiss on his lips “ maybe you don’t have to. “

The wind is softly blowing through the curtains of the open window. The air is hot and sticky that night and Angel can hardly bear to sleep with even the sheets covering his body. (Y/N) is cuddled into his side, her skin sticking to his like glue. Angel looks down at her, places a kiss on her head and pulls her even closer.

Maybe sometimes we’re granted a little spark of light in times of darkness. Maybe without being deserving of them. Without having done anything to earn them. Maybe we only get them for a little while.

Maybe forever.