#conflict is the door to conversion (like change not.. religion)

[lovebvni]

wow…

i… i don’t even know what to say other than thank you. i made this blog for myself but knowing it’s helping other people to the point they will follow me because they enjoy my advice and stories… it means so much its hard to even use the right words to express my gratitude from the bottom of my heart.

i am so happy i am helping and supporting you all on your shifting/manifestation journeys. i just hope and pray i can continue to do that for the rest of my existence in this reality :)

i know, even in the next life, we will meet. i love every single one of you guys.

it’s amazing, i’m so honored. thank you! <3

so much love,

bvni (abyss/asher) <3

side note: i semi manifested this while i was on my break and last week. manifestation is real and anything can happen!! :D <3

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 8

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

Kissing him is like coming home.

He smells like sandalwood and tastes of tea, exactly as he had before. Satine hadn’t realized how much she had missed it.

Pressing herself closer, she grabs the front of his shirt and fists her hand in the fabric in an attempt to steady herself. It’s a feeble attempt, practically futile - because his lips are sin against hers, opening up hell below. But as he moves to her jaw to let her get some air, hell mixes with heaven and she can’t tell which is which, and gravity does her no favors.

She sways involuntarily, and Ben’s hands land on her hips, concerned.

“Satine?”

“Damn you,” she whispers, already reaching for him again, pulling his head down to hers.

But before their lips touch, the floorboards creak behind them, and they jump apart.

Ben takes a step back, hand reaching for Satine’s fingers. As he steps again, their fingers slip from each other, and Ben checks into the next row. A moment later he returns, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he says.

“All the same,” begins Satine, straightening her blouse. “Let’s move the conversation elsewhere. My place in an hour? I’ll text you the address.”

He nods and steals another kiss, this one swift, before disappearing amongst the books.

---

Satine can’t begin to explain what’s gotten into her, what’s come over her. But for the first time in years, she’s happy. She tries to keep a neutral expression and can’t even accomplish this - for Ben inevitably infiltrates her thoughts, forcing a wide smile.

She’d offered for them to meet at her place rather than make the trek all the way across the river to his apartment in Old Town Alexandria, and she’s suddenly grateful she did - grateful to be on her home turf, grateful for the familiarity when navigating so much unknown. Their plan is to discuss The Plan, but Satine’s not sure how much talking they’ll actually do, if the way he’d kissed her in the library is any indication.

Her place is already tidy, so there’s not much she can do to distract herself as she waits for him. She touches up her makeup but doesn’t spend long in front of the mirror; she’s never been one to dwell on her looks when she knows she can’t change them.

Besides, Ben appears to like her as she is, and she thinks rather highly of his opinion.

She pours two glasses of wine and proceeds to sip at the first. 

And then there’s a knock at the door.

Satine is there in an instant, checking through the window to make sure it’s actually him before unlocking the door. When she swings the door inward, she’s greeted with a bouquet of white lilies.

“You weren’t kidding about trying to court me, were you?” she says.

Ben’s face appears behind the bouquet, and he sports a shy smile. “Madam,” he says, dropping the second part of the honorific that has become his nickname for her.

Satine steps aside to let him pass. A divine smell wafts around her, and she realizes he’s also carrying a bag of takeout. “You brought pad thai?” she says in appreciation, reaching for the flowers.

“You’re still vegetarian, right?”

She nods, pleased beyond words that he’d remembered. “Come,” she says, gesturing him into the kitchen. He toes out of his shoes and follows her through the living room and to the kitchen, where she searches through her cabinets to find a vase. He removes two takeout boxes from the paper bag he’s carrying and sets them on the counter as Satine sets the lilies in the vase, placing it at the center of the table. “Let me take your coat,” she offers, beginning to unbutton the jacket before he quite realizes what she is doing, and he lifts an eyebrow suggestively, hand closing around her wrist. “Behave,” she admonishes him as she finishes unbuttoning the coat, gliding past him, her skirt flowing in her wake, to hang the coat in her front closet.

Ben laughs. “I’m not the one removing articles of clothing, my dear.”

Satine returns to the kitchen and forces the other wine glass into his hand, rather more roughly than necessary, and she takes a long drink from her own as she glares him down.

When he gives her a strange look, she asks, “What is it?”

He shakes his head, pulling a chair back from the table for her and then sliding into his own. Satine places the takeout cartons on the table and then grabs two plates, and Ben says, “The last time we were together, we weren’t of drinking age.” He nods his thanks as she hands him some silverware. “We’ve never shared a bottle of wine. It’s just…” he trails off. “There’s a lot I wasn’t there for in the years I missed.”

Satine sits next to him and considers this. “We both missed those years, you know,” she says quietly.

Her eyes catch sight of his wrist, the tendons visible where his dress shirt is rolled up. She used to know every sinew of his body like it was her own. But they’ve spent years apart - as many years as they had been alive at the time of their parting. Before, they’d been like a set of lungs, breaths perfectly in synchronization. And now…what exactly are they now?

But Ben is already speaking before she’s able to find the right words to express her thoughts.

“I feel like I’ve missed so much of your life,” he says. “Is it possible that I hardly know you now?”

Satine keeps her gaze down, eyes still on his arm. Gingerly, she lifts her hand, tracing the tendons in his wrist with one fingertip. 

His hand clenches into a fist.

She can’t bring herself to meet his eyes, so she can’t decode what he’s thinking. But suddenly she can’t help it; her gaze flashes to his lips and then back down to their hands. 

“I think you’ll find you’re still the one who knows me best,” she says.

Then she unfurls his fingers so that she can rest her palm against his.

---

Half an hour and half a bottle of wine later, they’re shoulder to shoulder on her couch, throw blanket over both their legs. Ben’s retrieved his notebook, and he opens to the next blank page. At her questioning look, he says, “You wanted terms.”

She rolls her eyes as she drains the last of her drink, setting the empty glass on the side table. “I was half joking,” she says.

“So that means you were half serious, too,” he points out, and he begins to write down the months they have left in her fellowship year, beginning with March 2024 and ending with February 2025, leaving space between the months for notes. “When do you want to get engaged?”

She considers this, waiting for the panic that she expects to creep in. To her surprise, it doesn’t.

So she rests her chin on his shoulder as she says, “Well, let’s consider the worst case scenario. If Georgetown doesn’t offer me a permanent position, I’ll need a new job by February 2025.”

“We’ll both need new jobs by February 2025.”

“Right,” says Satine. “And the job market is…less than ideal right now. So we’ll need a few months after we get engaged to have time to look.” She glances at him. “Why are you grinning?”

He gives a disbelieving laugh. “The worst case scenario in this thought experiment is better than what I’d imagined in my wildest dreams. That’s all.”

She dearly wants to feel his smile on her lips, but they haven’t discussed those terms yet, and she’s not exactly sure what’s allowed or what his boundaries are. So, instead, she returns her attention to his timeline. “September,” she says. “Propose to me in early September.”

He writes Engagement after September 2024.

“It’s not exactly prime job market timing, but the start and end dates of my fellowship make that difficult.”

“We’ll be fine,” he says, clearly not bothered in the slightest. “If we’re getting engaged in September, should we move in together before that? Or at least appear to have moved in together?”

Satine nods. “I’d never get engaged without first living with the person. And it makes more sense for you to move in with me, as the commute is shorter.”

“Not that I’m opposed,” says Ben, “but you don’t get a voting member in the House of Representatives - or a senator - when you live in the District.”

Satine looks at him. Because of course he would bring that up.

He shrugs. “If you’re going to be a citizen soon, you’ll get to vote. Better to live in Virginia or Maryland.”

“I…” says Satine. “I had not considered that before,” she admits. “You’re right, of course. I’ll move in with you. End of June?”

And he adds this to the timeline.

Ben taps his pen against the notebook. “If we were truly dating,” he muses, “we’d likely want to keep this low profile for a few weeks. I know the point is to make it look like we’re dating, but people will get suspicious if we’re suddenly incredibly affectionate. It’s not really either of our modus operandi.”

Satine has to laugh. “You’re saying that we need to spend a few weeks sending each other longing looks so that Anakin will notice. He is quite the gossip.”

“And once he’s spread the rumor, which will probably be by mid-March, we can give up the ‘charade’,” says Ben, scribbling this down on the page. “Is this all agreeable to you?”

She nods against him. “I approve.”

Ben leans forward to set the pen and notebook down on the coffee table, and suddenly it’s just them - no distractions, nothing between them.

“There’s something else I want to discuss with you,” he murmurs, shifting to face her. He gestures between them. “How much of the physical aspect of this are you comfortable with?”

“I presume a certain amount of physical affection will be necessary,” says Satine. “To keep up appearances.”

He watches her closely as she continues.

“It’s not as though we aren’t familiar with each other in that way,” she points out.

He laughs. “I’d like to think I’ve improved since high school.”

“I have a great deal of data from that time but very little current data with which to compare,” says Satine. “So I really couldn’t say.”

He leans closer. “You’re saying you need a larger sample size.”

She’s close enough to make out the variations of blue in his eyes. “I’m saying I need more observations in order to draw a proper conclusion.”

“I’m happy to oblige,” he says almost roughly, but then he seems to think better of himself and pulls back slightly. At her questioning glance, he says, “Forgive me. I just think we need to agree upon terms - ”

“Boundaries,” she says, nodding.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Before we - ” He cuts himself off, and then considers her. “How much affection are you comfortable with publicly?”

“Honestly, probably more than you are,” she admits. “You’ve always been more reserved.” When he looks down, she reaches up to press her palm against his cheek, turning his face to hers. “I find it charming,” she assures him. “I’ll state it explicitly so you know you have permission: you can rest your hand against my lower back, or take my hand. Embracing is acceptable as well. Although, I think in more public spaces we should probably endeavor not to repeat the kiss we shared at the library.”

He flushes. “My apologies about that,” he says.

“Do I look like I’m complaining?”

Ben smiles. “No,” he says. “No, you don’t.” He reaches for her hand, tracing the lines of her palm. “Your wording implies that the library and in public are mutually exclusive.”

“Caught that, did you?” she says. “I knew you were clever. Yes, you may kiss me properly in the library, but only when we’ve determined there is no one else nearby.”

“Just like old times.”

She nods. “Just like old times.”

Ben raises their hands slightly so that he can interlock their fingers. “And what of affection that is…more private in nature?”

Satine bites her lip. “I’m…I am not sure. If we introduce physicality, if we introduce sex, into this thought experiment, it hardly remains a mere thought experiment. How would that be any different than just diving in for real? Because I presume it goes without saying that whatever this is, I am exclusively yours and you are exclusively mine. I know you well enough, and you know me well enough, for that to be axiomatic.”

“Exclusivity is a given,” he agrees, tightening his grip on her hand. “And before anything physical were to happen - if it were to happen - I have lab work for your perusal. Last time, we’d never had partners before, so such diligence wasn’t needed. But I want you to know you are safe with me.”

Warmth spreads through her lungs, through her heart, at his consideration, and she squeezes his hand. “Thank you,” she says. “I have an annual appointment in a couple weeks, and I’ll make sure my tests are up to date at that time.”

He holds her gaze. “You’re implying that you do want to negotiate a physical aspect to this experiment.”

Satine swallows. “I suppose I am.”

“So if it is on the table, then I believe I have an answer for your previous question.”

“How would this be different than dating for real?”

“Yes,” he says. “It’s not the same because I need…I need time. And space,” he says. “To tie up loose ends. To truly set some aspects of my life behind me. And some of those things…I’m not ready to talk about yet. If we were doing this for real, I wouldn’t keep those things from you. But for now…I can’t share them with you. Yet.”

Satine nods. “I understand,” she says.

And it’s more than that, really. She feels, deep within her, how much she needs a resolution to her time at State. She needs to find a way to put it behind her - because if she doesn’t, the terror of those last few days working for the Secretary will eat at her until there’s nothing left to give to Ben.

And, yet, she can’t tell him any of this - because telling him would bring him into the mess, threatening him, too.

Ben’s expression makes her wonder how much of what she’s struggling with he’s actually managed to guess, to piece together. “I won’t question you on it,” he says. “Whatever you went through, whatever you’re going through, it’s yours right now. When we decide to dive in, though - I’ll tell you everything about what happened to me.”

“And I will do the same for you.”

He nods, and he reaches for the notebook again. Satine watches as he scribbles his name across their timeline. “Contract signed,” he says, handing her the pen.

He holds the notebook as she adds her name below his.

And like before, he tears the page out and folds it up, tucking it into the pocket of her skirt.

“Would you like a copy?” says Satine, as his fingers linger on the fabric.

“Not necessary,” responds Ben. “I know you’ll keep it safe.”

There’s something about his tone that makes Satine shift, turning toward him. As she does so, he pulls her legs across his lap so that she is half draped over him, and his hand comes to rest on her hip.

“Since sex is…negotiable,” Ben says, “there’s something I need to tell you sooner rather than later, as it will inevitably derail things once we are headed in that direction for the first time.”

He begins to unbutton his shirt. Satine, seeing what he is trying to do, helps him shrug out of half of the shirt, revealing his arm.

From the middle of his left forearm to his shoulder, and over much of the left side of his torso, his skin is covered in burns.

Unable to hide her reaction, Satine breathes in sharply, and her eyes search his.

“I wanted you to see now so you wouldn’t be surprised later,” says Ben, and his voice almost cracks.

Satine’s eyes rove over the skin. “Third degree burns?” she whispers. At his nod, she adds, “I assume it doesn’t hurt any longer, correct?”

“The skin pulls every so often,” he says. “Consequence of the scar tissue. But it happened overseas, so it was a long time ago.”

Her throat dry, Satine can’t pull her eyes away. It looks like the skin had been melted from his body.

“You’re not going to say ‘I told you so'?” Ben asks. “That you warned me about war when we were literally children? That pacificism could have prevented this?”

Satine moves closer so that she can lean her forehead against his. “Ben,” she says. “Our goals are mirrors. Our methods may differ, but I respect yours all the same.”

She pulls back.

“That doesn’t mean I think you’re right,” she says, trying to smile and only slightly succeeding, but when he rolls his eyes, her weak smile grows stronger.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She manages to grin at this. Composing herself, she asks, “Is there anything I should know about that’s triggering for you? Places I shouldn’t touch?”

Ben shrugs back into the shirt, beginning to button it again. “Nothing that I suspect will be of imminent concern.”

She lifts a brow, and he elaborates, pausing on a button by his navel.

“I’m not sure how much you’ve explored…uh, sexually over the years. I’m not sure what you like. But let’s just say I’m not a huge fan of restraints. Used on me, at least. Like I said, I think it will take us a while to get there.”

“Noted,” says Satine. “And filed away for future reference. Thank you for telling me.”

“I wish I could tell you more. I will tell you more, once I've figured out the words. I haven't...I haven't told anyone yet how it happened. You'll be the first.”

“We’ve got time, Ben.”

He resumes buttoning the shirt, but Satine reaches for his hands. 

“One moment,” she says, putting his arms to the side. She wishes she were steadier, but to hell with it - she presses a palm to the skin of his chest. Growing bolder, she pushes the shirt from his left shoulder, and her hand travels to hover over his deltoid. Then she touches his scarred skin, feeling the tension throughout his muscles.

She meets his eyes.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be listening.”

And then she pulls him into her arms.

---

---

(shoutout to @ahsoka-in-a-hood for this incredible post, as well as @impossibleprincess35's reblog of and additions to it, that shook me to my core about the nature of Obi-Wan and Satine's relationship. i've echoed some of their words in one of Satine's lines above.)

[barneyandthepoetrymuse]

Chemistry…



All these whispers or are they murmurs..?

Unintelligible noises with a single purpose…

There’s footsteps behind me making me nervous…

The clinking of heels on a shiny surface…

Pull the plug and connect all the circuits

Whatever we’re fighting about isn’t worth it…

What are we achieving because it isn’t perfect…?

Whatever we believe in…..isn’t certain…

It’s a massive state of inner complexity…

Stand alone, together, or just stand next to me…

Stop the explosions, we’ve both got chemistry…

Identify the problem before we lose our identities…

What’s left to learn if the barrel is empty…?

The truth only hurts if you try to prevent it…

We can’t keep following the lines of our decedents…

Cancelling out the sound of every logical sentence…

We’ve got common ground under our feet…

If you allow it and we let each other speak…

Are we so routed in religion and ideology…

I don’t hate you and I don’t think you hate me……

What are we standing up to or standing for…?

Settle all the debts, don’t look to settle the score…

Scratching at the old wounds and making them sore…

Trying to teach us something we haven’t already seen before…!

There’s nothing more pointless or senseless as war…

We’ve blown up the bridges, kicked in the doors…

Who are the instigators, what was the cause…?

Stop walking on the edges of waterfalls…

It’s time to close the book and open up the conversation…

We discuss world conflict like it’s always in fashion…

We could swap out fine art for the strategic patterns…

Why don’t we change the subject and see what happens…?

[cletusthurstonbeauregard]

Supreme Court rejects appeal from parents who lost custody of trans teen

Story by Maureen Groppe and Kristine Phillips, USA TODAY

 • 1h • 3 min read

WASHINGTON − The Supreme Court declined to decide Monday whether an Indiana couple who believe children should be raised based on their sex at birth should have lost custody of their teenager, a transgender girl.

The court, without comment, rejected an appeal from the teen’s parents, who had warned that cases similar to theirs are likely to reoccur “due to developing conflicts between parents and their children concerning gender identity.”

“With increasing frequency, governments run roughshod over parents’ religious beliefs on gender identity, including removing children from parents, favoring certain beliefs in divorce custody disputes, and preventing adoptions,” lawyers for Mary and Jeremy Cox of Anderson, Indiana, told the court in their appeal. “These cases are sure to proliferate.”

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The state said the parents, who are self-described devout Christians, lost custody not because of their views but because of the medical necessity of addressing the teen’s severe eating disorder.

A provision of Indiana law that is similar to statutes in nearly every state allows government intervention in “a variety of situations in which even well-intentioned parent find themselves unable to prevent serious harm,” the state told the court.

Indiana also argued that the custody dispute is no longer relevant because the teen, who was 16 when removed from the home, is now an adult.

In a statement following the Supreme Court's denial, Mary and Jeremy Cox referred to their child as "our son" and said losing custody of the teen "because of their beliefs will stay with us forever."

"We can't change the past, but we will continue to fight for a future where parents of faith can raise their children without fear of state officials knocking on their doors," the Coxes said.

Indiana Attorney General Todd Rokita, whose office is tasked with defending state agencies, said he is "sympathetic" to the Coxes, citing his work in defending parental rights.

"We always protect parental rights and religious liberty. Neither we nor the Indiana courts believe that the State can remove a child because of a parent's religious beliefs, views about gender identity, or anything of the sort," Rokita said in a statement, adding that the record shows the state's actions were motivated by the teen's "extreme eating disorder."

Mary and Jeremy Cox, self-described devout Christians, lost custody of their trans teen

The case began in 2021 after the Indiana Department of Child Services received two reports of abuse or neglect, both related to the teen’s transgender identity. One accused the parents of verbally and emotionally abusing their child because they did not accept that the teen was transgender, according to court records. 

After hearings, a judge ordered the teen be removed from the parents’ custody, get treated for the eating disorder and participate in individual and family therapy. The state dropped allegations of parental abuse or neglect but argued the teen’s eating disorder might worsen if the parents regained custody.

The parents were told not to discuss transgenderism with their child outside of the therapy sessions because of the connection between those conversations and the eating disorder. 

The Coxes, who are identified in the court filings by their initials, said the state violated their parental rights, their free speech and their free exercise of religion.

“M.C. and J.C. seek only to raise their children according to their religious beliefs and best judgment,” they told the court. “This case is about the state taking a child from fit parents.”

The Indiana Court of Appeals sided with the state, and the Indiana Supreme Court declined to review the case.

"The Parents have the right to exercise their religious beliefs,” the appeals court said, “but they do not have the right to exercise them in a manner that causes physical or emotional harm to Child.”

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Supreme Court rejects appeal from parents who lost custody of trans teen

[journeytothewestresearch]

Story Idea: Sun Wukong vs Heracles

Those who saw the recent Hercules vs Sun Wukong Death Battle may be surprised to learn that 2nd-century Greco-Buddhist art of Gandhara (Afghanistan/Pakistan) depicts the Greek Hero Heracles as a protector of the Buddha. In this context, he fills the role of Vajrapāni, a protector of the Dharma (Dharmapala). Later depictions of Vajrapāni from East Asia show him as a muscular warrior bearing a club (the Vajra), iconographic elements that were influenced by the son of Zeus (see the images below).

Taking this into account, I've been thinking of more plausible ways in which the Monkey King and the original Greek Heracles might come into conflict. The two I have in mind require "what if" scenarios that change the original Journey to the West (1592) story in one way or another. The first involves Guanyin calling on Heracles/Vajrapāni instead of Erlang to deal with the primate immortal in chapter six. (As a dharma protector and embodiment of the Buddha's power, Heracles/Vajrapāni would naturally be imbued with dharma power, the penultimate power in the novel’s cosmos. This means that he would eventually prevail over Monkey but come to respect Monkey's strength and skill, especially since the primate only studied spiritual cultivation and martial arts for three years prior to his adventures.) This would make the reason for their fight more natural, but creating an extended narrative where the hero befriends Sun and introduces him to the Greek pantheon would be difficult as the journey—i.e. escorting the monk to India—still needs to take place. The second involves the end of the novel when the Buddha orders the eight Vajra warriors to escort the pilgrims to China in chapter 100. Perhaps, in our version, Heracles/Vajrapāni is among them or he even replaces the eight. Knowing of Monkey's great power, he might invite him to have a friendly sparring match. But this seems like a bad time to pick a fight, making their confrontation less natural. But considering that this happens at the end of the journey, it opens the door to introducing Sun to the Greek gods. This would naturally occur after Monkey achieves Buddhahood, removing any chance that he would struggle against a Grecian foe. As I write this, I thought of a third that's a mix of the two. Heracles/Vajrapāni is still called on to halt Sun's rampage, and after the latter is promoted in spiritual rank, the Buddha charges the guardian with escorting the "Victorious Fighting Buddha" through the Greek world system—i.e. the Greek pantheon. I really like the idea of Heracles/Vajrapāni visiting his old pantheon as his Vajra weapon is analogous to Zeus' thunderbolt. It serves the same function under the Hindu storm god Indra, who is sometimes associated with Zeus in Greco-Buddhist art. The first Greeks arrived in India during the reign of Darius the Great (550-486 BCE) and later Alexander the Great (356-323 BCE). Just like American Gods, these merchants, artisans, farmers, and mercenaries would have brought their religion with them, allowing the Greek pantheon to learn of the Buddha. And just like the "Enlightened One" conversed with the Vedic gods atop Mt. Sumeru, he too might visit Olympus and talk with the Greek gods. This would lead Zeus assigning his son, the "god of strength," to guard the Buddha, forming a link between the Greek and Buddhist pantheons.

The Buddha (middle) flanked by Heracles/Vajrapāni (left) and Tyche/Hariti (right) at Tapa Shotor, 2nd-century.

Detail of Heracles/Vajrapāni.

Another example of Heracles/Vajrapāni (right) protecting the Buddha (right). Gandhara, 2nd-century.

A lovely drawing of Heracles escorting the Buddha. From reddit user u/Nelgorgo88.

A modern drawing of Vajrapāni. Artist unknown.

[ihassheepquake]

DC's Stargirl 3.06 "Chapter Six: The Betrayal" has aired on the CW, and I'm here to talk about it.

We're not gonna talk about this being several days late. It's midterm season and I'm plotting a book, leave me alone.

I'm so excited about this episode. From the previews, there's gonna be a fight between Courtney and the rest of the JSA, and I love nothing more in a story than interparty conflict. And Yolanda found the Gambler's laptop in Cindy's room, which means even more drama! Plus, some of them are realizing that Sylvester is kind of a bitch, which is a third source of drama. Always a good time.

Opening on a Rick in the gym testing his super strength scene? I keep finding more and more reasons to find him incredibly hot. And he has more than an hour of strength now! That's pretty cool and definitely will not be causing any problems to his body whatsoever.

Mr. Bones is doing a puzzle while watching everyone, like a crazy person.

Now, I'm not a fan of religion. But I do enjoy it when it can be used to offer up moral conflicts within characters. Yolanda definitely has some things to learn and has some deconstruction of her own trauma to do. And if this is how she needs to learn about it, then so be it.

Obviously, Cameron is going to learn that Courtney is Stargirl and all of the drama that will come from that sometime this season. But I really hope that they'll do something interesting and let Courtney actually tell him. Ideally, she'll even be the one to tell him about her involvement in what happened with his dad. I think it'd be very in-character for Courtney and it would be something different from the tropes.

Jakeem and Mike are bringing Cindy flowers and chocolate, holy shit. This is such a funny B-plot. Made even funnier by her slamming the door in their faces.

Everything is so tense and ominous in this meeting the parents or whatever scene. It's kind of creepy too. I love it. Just gods, what the fuck are the grandparents going to do to Courtney? You know they're gonna do something!

Okay, I'm warming up to Camney. I'll admit it. They're so sweet!

You know what, good for Cindy at least trying not to immediately fight and go the whole "can we please just have a conversation real quick?" route. Though I have been waiting for this fight, so fight! Rick maybe seems angrier than usual? Is the now seemingly unlimited strength from the Hourglass already starting to have an effect on him? Courtney does maybe deserve the roasting just a little bit.

Poor Cindy.

I'm all for the interparty drama. Does Courtney deserve this? No. Does that make it even better? Yes. But yeah, Cameron doesn't deserve to be treated as a threat just because of his dad. If Courtney can show him he can do something else, which she already has, then doesn't he deserve the chance to do that something else? And Cindy deserves the chance to grow and change too. We've seen her this season clearly wanting to do that. But the others are too blind to let either of them. Which is also true about Sylvester and it's why I don't think he should be the leader of the team. But at least he's starting to realize that about himself after his fight with the Crocks. But he's still so blinded.

Surveillance has been revealed! They're on their way to getting into the real plot!

It's time to start fucking around with the mid-season reveal of this season. Episodes 7 and 8 are a two-parter, and one of them is probably where we'll start (re)meeting Jade and Obsidian, who I believe were both confirmed to appear this season. The post-credit preview does show some shadowy powers being used, which could be the return of Shade or the introduction of Obsidian. We'll just have to see. I'm super interested to see how they're gonna incorporate Infinity Inc into this whole thing. The next two episodes are going to be crazy. All this and more revealed next week with DC's Stargirl 3.07 "Chapter Seven: Infinity Inc, Part 1".

[zet-sway]

Spiritual Shrios Summer Fill: Godless

This is a prompt fill for @rosenkow's Spiritual Shrios Summer! Prompts | release | oasis | moan | delirium | pray | sweat | whisper | afterlife | contaminated | skin | worship | incense | godless | petals | taste | nectar | caress | mirage | ripe | sundown | hallucinate | salt | intoxicated | soul | embrace | hunger | wet | adrenaline | breathe |

PROMPT WORD: GODLESS | WORDS: ~1800

Rated: "G" - General Audiences AO3 Link: "The Frozen Sea" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: The ocean licks at her knees - not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Shepard looks forward to being the first one up and awake.

Her cabin is suffocating. There are nights when she appreciates the privacy, but the silence of her isolated quarters makes her insides itch in an uncomfortable way. Just before the common area lighting begins to grow from the dim cadence of the night cycle, she leaves her room and greets the morning, intangible as only time on a starship can be. First she checks on the night crew, then starts coffee for Gardener. Finally, she makes her way down to the shuttle bay for PT. Alone.

It's unexpected when she has a visitor one quiet morning.

"Sere Krios," she says, rising from a deep stretch on the mat.

He smiles warmly, equally as surprised to see another soul at this hour. "Commander, good morning. And please, just Thane if you wouldn't mind."

Thane is the newest member of her crew and they've only spoken twice before. Maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise that he has his daily rituals as well, given his condition. He's dressed simply. Black pants, a sleeveless shirt, his defined, green chest exposed for all the world. Drell and humans share some attractive qualities. He's easy on the eyes.

She's staring, she realizes, and looks away. Thane takes his place on the mat and begins his own warm-up.

Day after day, he joins her, and they build a routine. Together, they begin with stiff, groggy stretches; then there's cardio, sweat, and strength training. Their conversations are light and technical. He respects her silence. She respects his discipline. On leg day, they limp back into the elevator in tandem. If she's lucky, she has time to join him and the crew for breakfast after her shower.

When she's alone, she quietly recalls how the light bends around the contours of his body.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He's there as usual when she steps off the elevator and into the shuttle bay. Fully armored, helmet under one arm, weapons holstered, but ready.

"Shepard. No training today?" He rises from his place on the mat where he's been exploring the human practice of yoga, per her suggestion. It suits him. Yoga is all about breathing.

"I was beginning to think you tired of my company."

She gives him a weary smile and shakes her head.

There's a new, abnormal tension between them and by his gaze she knows he feels it too. She likes Thane. She knows hardly a damn thing about him, but he's a comfortable presence, follows orders... doesn't ask intrusive questions. However, she's breaking their routine unexpectedly, and in the moment, his gaze is almost painful.

"Is there something I should know about Alchera?"

Okay, maybe he does ask intrusive questions.

His voice is a hot knife through her muddy thoughts. The detour to Alchera hadn't been on their flight plan, but somehow, he knows. Times like this, his eidetic memory puts her on edge. She asks herself how many other kernels of obscure knowledge are locked away in his mind.

Stepping up to prep the shuttle, she weighs the consequences of lying to his face. Only six people on the ship know where she's going and why, and she doesn't want to talk about it with any of them. The words are too hard to say out loud. This is where I died.

"Alliance HR," she says finally. A partial truth.

His brows rise and his posture straightens just a bit. "Human remains." Fuck if he isn't perceptive, but if he has questions, he keeps them to himself.

She nods once, happy to have stopped this conversation in its tracks. Then she changes the subject.

"PT tomorrow," she offers with a smile. "I can't be lifting without my spotter."

"Of course, Shepard. The pleasure is mine," he responds with an acknowledging nod. She feels bad for interrupting his training as he leaves on the elevator, but she doesn't want to face her team until her task is done.

Let's just get this over with.

Alone with her thoughts, she exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and starts her pre-flight checklist.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It's well past dinner when she comes to him. The doors at his back swish open and she stands quietly inside the threshold. A fistful of clinking metal dangles from her hand and he knows she's come to have the conversation she avoided earlier.

"Did I catch you at a good time?"

"You did," he says smoothly. "Was there something you wanted to discuss?"

She sits across from him and the metal spills from her fist. Dog tags. Twenty of them. Her gaze is fixed on them and she appears shrouded in a fog of thoughts.

"Did you know them?" The question is gentle, he's almost afraid to know the answer.

Shepard takes a deep breath and blinks slowly. "Yeah. They were my crew."

Thane can feel a chill, as though the icy surface of the planet is still clinging to her long after she's left it. "Your ship went down on Alchera?"

She nods.

"...and you were among them."

"Yes."

He realizes now why she brushed off his words earlier. It strikes him as odd that she would bring this to him instead of Garrus, Tali, Joker, or Chakwas. All of them served on that ship with her, although he isn't sure if they were on board during the attack. She chose him for this, maybe because he'd asked, unknowingly, down in the shuttle bay. Regardless, she's here now and he struggles to understand her needs.

Thane refocuses. There's a pile of dog tags before him and each one represents a human life, now in the arms of Kalahira.

"May I read them?"

She glances up at him then, surprised. "Won't you remember them forever?"

"I'd like to."

Her lips twitch just slightly in the most cautious of smiles, and she nods. "Knock yourself out," a quietly uttered and somehow charming human expression.

Thane picks up each tag one by one and passes his eyes over them. Every name, a life extinguished. Stories unfinished. Loved ones mourning for years without closure or a body to bury. Memories percolate in his mind and he pushes them back because now is not the time. For each name, he offers a silent prayer to the goddess for their eternal peace. When he finishes, the tags are a neat horizontal stack before them.

Hands folded, he looks at her. "I don't see your name."

It's less of a question and more of an observation, but she dips one hand into her shirt collar and produces a pair of clinking metal tags. They dangle from a new chain but the metal scorched and scuffed almost to a state of illegibility. One from the Alliance, the other from the Spectres. Her name is heavily embossed into each one.

SHEPARD DECEMBER HUMAN SYSTEMS ALLIANCE

His expression lifts and he smiles, hopeful. "You survived."

Shepard shakes her head. "I was spaced."

"But you must have-"

"No, Thane." Her tone is firm, unwavering. "I was spaced."

Her intense green eyes pierce through him. There's a twinge in her voice that makes his insides clench. "I read the data on Project Lazarus. I died."

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Thane tries to control his features but her assertion shakes the very foundations of his faith. Many had said she died, but he'd always understood it as a metaphor - a near death experience.

He reaches into himself for calm and a memory rises, unbidden. "Jesus and Lazarus, from the Christian bible. '...I am the resurrection and the life.'"

"Kalahira..." he breathes. "Shepard, I didn't know."

She grunts out an ugly, short laugh and tears her eyes from his. "I can't believe you read the bible."

Her words fly past him without acknowledgement. He sees her as though through fogged glass, thoughts spinning. "Kalahira released you from the sea." When the words leave his mouth, they sound like irrefutable truth.

There's silence while she fidgets across from him, and then she asks, "Do humans go to the sea too?"

"We believe all life does."

He has a thought, then. "What do you believe, Shepard?

Her expression is mildly uncomfortable. "Before or after I died?" But then she shakes her head, reconsidering. "The universe is grand enough that maybe it is god's design. But I don't think god gives a damn about us. Agnostic, I guess." Shepard pauses and looks at him, but her eyes are distant. "Maybe I'd like to believe in your sea. Right now it feels easier to accept."

"To bring comfort in dark places is the purpose of spirituality. It does not matter what you believe as long as it brings you peace."

"Some humans would disagree with you."

Aware of the myriad of human religions and their conflicts, he brushes off her statement. "This is my truth. Their opinions don't concern me."

Shepard's gaze is searching, revealing the cracks in her armor, slivers of well-hidden vulnerability. "So I went to the sea. And now I'm back."

"If I am to accept what you say, I can offer no other conclusion." He doesn't ask what she remembers, he knows he might not like the answer.

"Then what am I now? Besides a soggy, undead cyborg?"

Her voice is laced with sarcasm but Thane thinks over her question carefully, aware he will be turning it over in his mind for days to come. Kalahira, Irikah, Siha, the gods and their angels, his lover and confidant, memories and oaths... regrets and comforts.

A heavy veil of epiphany descends on him, awestruck, painfully aware of his mortality, and prickling with a primal, deeply buried fear. Once human and now something in between, she is Commander Shepard, avatar of the Sea, chosen of Kalahira. The ocean licks at her knees not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

The fist of tension in his gut calls to mind the image of Irikah's eyes in his scope all those years ago. I thought she was the goddess Arashu. But it's not Arashu who sits before him now, but Kalahira. Her icy breath howls across the inhospitable surface of Alchera, her unfathomable currents gathering those courageous enough to follow her into the abyss. How appropriate that she appeared just as he sought his demise in the Dantius Towers. She will be the one to ferry him into the unknown when they finally breach the relay. He prays she will be merciful.

Placing one hand over hers, Thane squeezes reassuringly. He doesn't linger, the gesture is as much for him as it is for her; he wants to know that she is real, as he finally answers her question.

'Then what am I now?'

"A woman with a purpose so great, the goddess herself answered the galaxy's cry for your return."

[artemuerto]

Shelby Household Manor

Pairing: Thomas Shelby/Male Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Violence, Mention of Suicide, The Shelby Family teases Reader, Tommy is pleased and Proud of Reader

Author Notes: This wasn’t meant to happen, I was really happy with how chapter one turned out but my brain wouldn’t let me sleep until I started writing

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

Read on AO3

The Family

—3—

The mansion beamed with eager energy as people came and went up the stairs, down the corridors; there was a family gathering in the making and soon all the Shelby family would be together. It would be the first time the servants of the house will be witness of all of them together. Yes, they knew them and of course, had seen them before but never in fullness. The Shelby’s worked in teams, and pairs, in triads of relentless dedication to business and increasing power. But for one night, the fights would be forgotten, altercations left behind and confrontations moved for another day. Tonight was a night to celebrate.

It seemed like The Shelby Company was ready to go wide in America, expanding their business, opening other offices and navigating into new markets.

With a soft know on the door, the servant walked into the office. Mister Shelby sat on his chair drowning in paperwork, his never ending cigar was lighted up and resting between his fingers, but the boy felt pleased to recognize the pair of spectacles on top of the man’s nose.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he spoke.

“Your family will be here in half an hour, sir.” Shelby groaned in response but that was it. The young boy stood up tall and kept talking. “They are expected to have dinner, sir.” Once again mister Shelby agreed in a loose matter. “Will you be dinning with them, sir?” At last, that simple comment seemed to catch the man’s attention long enough to make him look apart from his documents.

With relentless dedication the boy fought his fears and stayed in place giving his boss a clear vision of his concerns. They had yet to convince mister Shelby to eat with Charlie, left alone with his whole family. Would there it be necessary to place a plate at the head of the table? Would the Shelby’s eat without Thomas?

Thomas sighed trying to drive away the tension on his shoulders at the memory of his family in one table but decided to wash the concern from his servants heads.

Even knowing it would be a waste of time, Thomas agree. “Yes.” The boy nodded and rushed back to finish up.

The dining room was a vision, a dream or a tale of tales like princess and royalty. The candelabrums shined in sparks of life, the table beautifully dressed in a snow white tablecloth, pristine silverware and opaline glasses refracted the light in different colours. The teasing heat of the kitchen was far from the room but the excitement for a warm meal was never down. Bottles of champagne were opened and chit-chat was all over the place.

One by one the Shelby’s made an entrance.

The food was delightful and soon the bubbly sweet beverage was forgotten for something stronger. Charlie was put to bed after playing with his cousins and saying goodbye to all his uncles and aunt; the nanny followed suit with a short reverence.

The night was young when the Shelby’s decided it was time to talk business and he stood by the door; the servant wasn’t sure he was allowed to stay, it were private matters, however, before he could voice his way out, the younger sister asked for more.

“Be a darling and serve another glass, would you?” Ada shook his empty glass in the air with a friendly smile.

“Yes, Miss Shelby.” The girl couldn’t help but show his discomfort at the name and it was all clear in her features. Being called that in business was a given, but after hours, in family company she preferred to be called by her name and her name only. So, she told him much.

“You don’t have to be formal, love.” She accepted the drink and saluted to his face. “My name is enough.” The boy, first time, looked conflicted as if he wanted to pleased the lady, it was a Shelby after all, but didn’t wanted to loose respect. He was a servant, they were rules and respect was primordial.

“I apologize, Miss.” He whispered finally conscious of how the rest of the family were watching their interaction. “I cannot do that.”

“Why is that?” Ada asked promptly, not mad but mostly curious.

“Miss— I, uhm...” staggering his voice in nervousness, the boy tried to make himself clear although was failing and massively. “I am.. most unable to... can.” Ada laughed opening and without restrictions causing the boy to sober up in flying colours that painted his cheeks and nose.

“Oh, brother—“ her accent splitting over. “Where on earth did you manage to find this one?” The rest of the family laughed wholeheartedly as he rested back on his post.

So, for the rest of the night, the Shelby’s made their mission to brake the boy’s formalities. And after a few hours, they almost succeeded.

Ada, as much to please her, passed from restrictively being name ‘Miss Shelby’ to a ‘Miss Ada’ with casual ring that let her smiling but compromise enough to the boy’s stubbornness to not drop his rightful tone.

Polly, now. After threatening to mark his pretty face —once again, they laughed at his expenses while his cheekbones blushed with a deep crimson—, felt herself in a win as the boy left to be respectful enough to keep the title but informal enough to call her by her name. And so, Mrs. Polly had another drink.

The oldest Shelby was the toughest on them so far, as the man kept asking to absolute drop all those fancy words and call him by his bare name.

“C’mon, lad. I know you can do it.” Arthur told him resting a heavy slap on his back almost making him fall. That was the time where, he couldn’t help but ask for guidance. With a fleeting glance to the man at the end of the table who watch with a heavy stare, he asked permission to fulfill Arthur’s request without being disrespectful.

Mister Shelby sat impassively on his chair, the smoke slithering from his parted lips while another cigarette filled his lungs with nicotine, the man said nothing blinking slowly.

Only then, after the boy sweat under his family’s interested eyes, Thomas lifted an eyebrow as if challenging the boy to do as he pleased.

Challenging to do what? To give in to his brother’s demands? To remain silent and being the target of their banter? To keep his formalities and hang in danger with the possibility of angering any of the family members? What was the right answer?

“Oi, Tommy!” Arthur called for his brother. “Don’t be a piss and let the poor boy speak.” The poor boy hid his eyes in shame, he never intended to insult his master. “C’mon, boy.” Arthur asked once again.

“Yes...” He consciously swallowed feeling his lips dry. “Yes, Arthur—“ the family around them cheered happily finally reaching their goal. “—, sir.” Ada huffed and crossed his arms in a mock tantrum.

“And just for that you’ll get me a new glass.” Yes, Miss Ada. The boy nodded openly smiling and rushed to change the woman’s glass that was half empty. Thomas toasted in silence lifting his glass to his sister and hid a short lived smiled that wanted to appear at the corners of his lips.

—4—

Miss Ada asked for tea after everybody went to sleep so he complaint. Gingerly placing the cup and the kettle, he was about to leave when the girl called his name.

“Yes, Miss Ada?”

“Would you stay with me for a moment?” Giving a wordless positive answer, the young one came close to the woman and stood with his hands behind his back. “Oh, boy! “Ada almost dropped his cup. “Would you sit down already!” Flustered acceptance of his permission to sit with the girl, the servant spoke a soft apology, he was not used to being treated with such familiarity. He had been working in the manor for years now and even thou everybody was polite and nice and friendly with each other, there were certain things that were never meant to happen such as sitting with their masters.

“But I’m not your master.” Ada left his concerns to be blown away as she wanted a simple and honest conversation that didn’t involved her brothers, her family or their business.

“Alright, miss.” He stated in confidence. “What would you like to talk about?” That’s how Ada learned about his family, about his childhood and the town he used to live.

The boy’s father was sent away to the Great War and for years they didn’t know any good news, all their neighbors became widows and orphans and those long sleepless night took a life from his mother.

By the time his father came back, they were all ecstatic until they realized the man had come back from war but the war hadn’t let him go.

His father may have come back but in reality he never came back. So one day, after a younger version of himself was sent to school, his father had gone out, walked to their garden and shot himself with his gun for his poor mother to find him in a pool of blood with a disfigured face.

His mother’s life was short lived after that. She couldn’t bare the thought of existing without his beloved and soon her health decayed. She died shortly of a broken heart no matter how much he cared for her. That’s why he left his home town, said goodbye to his parents and sailed for adventure knowing that they were together and happy once more; he hadn’t given religion much thought but he liked to think his parents watched over him.

He finished his story with a wobbly smiled before panic painted in his face due to Ada’s tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh, no! Miss Ada, please.” He fussed over her scared and terrified. “Please, don’t cry! I’ll do anything, just please!”

“You, silly boy.” Ada cleaned her face and tucked the boy into an awkward hug by the time he stayed half kneeling in front of her. “You suffered so much and you’re still worrying over me.”

“But, Miss—“

“Hush now, just let me.” Uncomfortable and odd feeling the servant stayed in his master sister’s arms receiving comfort like no other in such a long time. He sent silent prayers of gratitude.

Neither paying attention of the shadowy figure at the door threshold.

After guiding Ada to his room and promising to her that he was in fact living a good life under her treacherous, devilish tyranny of brother, the woman left to sleep.

The servant finally felt how truly exhausted he was, long hours of working flying away in awe, music, conversation and laughter. He only wanted to go to his room and pass out for a few hours before it was time to get on his feet once again. And so close to his goal he was until he was intercepted by Polly.

Mrs. Polly was dressed down, forgotten the beautiful outfits were to be lived in a casual sleepwear, a long satin undergarment in a pale green with details in black, her face clean of make up shine by the moonlight. She was a dream.

The woman sultry walked until she faced him and smiled luxuriously with all the power she had.

“I’m surprised to see you up, boy.” There was something in her tone that left him uncomfortable, effaced was the easy mocking tone from the evening, now Polly seemed to denigrate him with even her looks.

The woman has seen and witness the silent conversation this unknown boy had had with her nephew and only served to race her alarms after catching the pleased and satisfied air Thomas portrayed the rest of the evening. Her nephew usually had two thoughts in mind: business and mindless fucking, and even the later was used as a way to achieved what he wanted, so the woman questioned herself, and an answer she would get.

It wasn’t difficult to trap the boy into her body and one of the tables at the living room, the open space was perfect, anybody could see.

“Missus—“ The low tone reached Polly with tint of desperation, it was clear to the woman that the poor boy would fly away the moment he could, but she wasn’t letting him go until her doubts were settle. Polly smiled long and languid, caressed the servant’s scared face with her fingertips until she reached for his clothesline in top of his belt.

The servant was mortified, he could reassured he was shaking like leaves in autumn while mrs Polly had her fun; he didn’t understand what the woman was after but he honestly prayed she would stop.

“Tonight, boy...” Polly came close enough for the servant to feel her warm breath. “You will serve me.” A switch was off on his brain, did missus Polly needed something outside of the obvious attempts which he in oblivious tried to surpass.

“Mrs. Polly, if you need anything I’ll try my best to serve you.” The woman frowned not quiet pleased with the servant’s reaction; if she was in the rights then the boy wouldn’t survive working for her nephew. A pretty boy to keep his bed warm wouldn’t go far in the world, even thou, there were rare cases, such as Lizzie.

“Oh, darling...” her voice crawling down the boy’s spine send chills not quiet pleasant. “There’s much you can do.” Polly went for the boy’s trousers and the young one yelped looking to escape her advances. “You will serve me well in the sheets.” Polly could almost laugh at the boy expenses, his reactions were too pure and innocent-like to not to play with, it would be both a delight and shame if he surrendered.

“Mrs. Shelby—“ the younger one angry whispered as his voice when a pitch high, in a bold flustered move, the servant touch Polly’s wrists and smoothed his way out. “I apologize for my actions ma’am but this is something I cannot do.” The boy seemed afraid while he gather himself in a thought hug and for moments Polly felt bad for deceiving the young one. “If that is something you need, I’ll search for someone but that is some I won’t do.” The boy gather up his courage and stared down at the woman with fierce determination that made her feel proud —now she understood her nephew—. “Mrs. Shelby, I am not a whore.” The secret hatred with which the boy talked to her flailed some thoughts. But she still pushed him farther.

“You might not be, darling. But under the Peaky Blinders, if that’s what they want, that’s what you’ll be.”

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, ma’am.” Finally seeing a way out, the servant rushed down the hall, almost running as he thought was far enough from the woman and hid in the first door he came close. Polly saw him leave with a satisfied feeling.

The poor boy felt like crying. None in his years of service he had been put into such position. He worked hard, he served well, kept his eyes close and ears shut when business were to be discuss; he tried his best to meet mister Shelby’s necessities but never he imagine he would be ask for something in that capacity.

His hands started to tremble as the embarrassment and shame began to grow in his belly. His heart raced in his chest, loud and clear to his ears and his mind was all over the place.

Had he done something wrong? Had the family gather that impression from him? Did everybody share the same thoughts of Mrs. Shelby? Did Mister Shelby had the same thoughts? Had he embarrassed his master in front of his family? He wanted to cry in all honesty, silliness and need for comfort. He began to talk to himself out loud trying to wash away the anger and mortification, the pain and shame the whole ordeal had caused him.

The boy leaned onto the door feeling the cold touch in his forehead and started to speak.

“You are not that. You are not what they said you were. You are a good servant. You do good. You are not a whore. No matter what they say, you are not a whore.” You’re not. You’re not. You’re not a whore. Memories of past pain came to life. A friend of his had suffered from the same sorrow as the people from town started to repel her for bringing a child to this world outside of a healthy marriage. She was known as the Old Town Whore.

She left one day with her daughter and he never saw her again.

“You’re not a whore.”

“Who says you’re a whore?” The ring of mr. Shelby’s voice at the other side of the room was an unpleasant and absolute unexpected plus terrifying; in his hurry and shame he had not seen where he was heading. The servant turned surprised as if being caught doing something ilegal. Jumping out in his spot, the boy looked at his master with every inch of shame while questioning if anyone in that bloody family ever slept at regular hours. Finding each member of the Shelby’s family at late hours was not good for his nerves. “And well?” Mr. Shelby was know for his short temper regardless to patience making it obvious in his features.

The impression was such, they boy thought he would pass out in pure panic, his master could read him like an open book. Mister Shelby sat in silence waiting for his young servant to speak while they boy seemed troubled with each passing second. The young one was about to cry if his eyes weren’t tricking him, and Thomas didn’t relish on that sight at all. Who had caused the boy deep discomfort?

“Tell me, little one, what’s wrong?” As if being relief from his sorrows, the boy talked and talked non-stop by his thoughts of the evening, how he worked hard and hoped his family hadn’t taken a wrong impression of his persona. He wanted to believe he was good but after being cornered in the looming, deserted halls, the boy feared the worst.

“I swear, mr. Shelby— I didn’t mean to... I only tried to do my job." The boy started to heave. “Sir, I swear, I would never... I never intended to... I’m not—“ finally a lonely tear fell down his cheek. “Sir, please, believe me, I’m not— I’m not that.” In his own innocence, Shelby noted, the boy wasn’t even able to call himself a whore.

The servant in his share discomfort hadn’t realized mister Shelby was close. Long forgotten was his seat at his desk in the center of the room and slowly, soundlessly started to reach out to him. The boy was only conscious after feeling Thomas’ flexed index finger brushing against his wet cheek and watching how the man cleaned the salt away with his lips.

“Tell me. What did they say?” The order was clear. Thomas already had a fair idea onto who could be the perpetrator but he wanted to hear from his servant first.

“I had to serve in someone’s sheet... by order of the Peaky Blinders.” The little one’s lower lip trembled in humiliation, his cheeks fired up like a beacon in the midnight sky. Thomas was glad the boy had sheltered his gaze back down so he wouldn’t see the amused smirk his master was sporting at the time.

“And what did you say to that?” The boy stilled himself for a short while and Thomas inquired if they had finally broke the poor mind, when his boy impressed him once again with a share of honest devotion.

Meeting his master’s piercing eyes, feeling his own knees shake through the force he was using to keep it together, he spoke with conviction that characterized him.

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, sir.” The young one took a sharp breath before continuing his short speech. “I am a servant of the Shelby Household Manor and so, I serve the Shelby’s family, I am at service to you, sir. I serve the head of the family, Thomas Shelby.” In the heated spur of the moment he forgot to mind his words, the young one has never said his master’s voice out loud nor even in confidence, and some how that idea filled Thomas with warm delighted joy. It felt good to see his servants passion.

The shared a quiet moment, seconds before the young one came to notice what he had done. An undignified feeling washed over the servant and lower his head hiding his gaze from the man; it was obvious his guilt to the man.

“Look at me.” The mister said in a low tone an slight distortion of his strong will and demanding stance. The boy refused by shaking his head and Tommy wanted nothing but to hit him light at the back of the head. “I said... Look at me, little one.” Finding Thomas clear eyes was a shock like no other; it wasn’t new to see his master but it felt like it he was under a different light. Something closer, warmer.

“It’s alright.” Thomas peaked a ghost smile so the boy could see. “You did good, little one.” Brushing his cheek one more time, Tommy lightly touch the boy’s chin and soon the heavy atmosphere fade away. Repeating his reassuring words, Tommy let the boy go.

“You did good.”

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Naruto, One Piece, and Free Match-Up Request

May I request another match-up but for Free, One Piece, and Naruto this time? :) Here’s all my info once more!

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) on a rotating schedule.

Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2) My full birth chart can be found here

Enneagram: 5w6

Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig

MBTI Type: INFJ

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Love Language: Acts Of Service

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)

Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body. I also have really bad scars on my left arm from being bitten by a dog.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.

Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude and mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well as irregular, prolonged periods. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up. 

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you so much for requesting with us! I am so sorry that this came out so late, but I do hope you enjoy this!

>Admin 𝕋

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…

Ace! I feel that you and ace would be such a great couple! He is open minded and kind to others whereas you are the same way! You are passionate like he is, caring like he is, loyal to the bone like he is! He would see you and see your personality and just instantly fall in love you and your personality! Like, I can’t even imagine how much he will want you on his crew, so they he can keep on you and protect you at all times-- though he will soon figure out that you don’t need help, you can take care yourself--which he will find extremely attractive, no doubt about that! 

He will love that fact that you are independent, because he really values individualism and independency, he sees it as a great traits to have. But he will also love the fact that you are sensitive, and can sometimes get into your own  head. He understands that, knows it all too well, so he will try with all his might to try and make sure that you are happy and always smiling! But he will love how fierce you can be to other people, never bowing down to their expectations! 

All in all, I feel like Ace would be a great man for you in the one piece universe! He would be attentive to you, would love your attitude and personality, and would absolutely adore how loyal and strong you are! make sure to love him thoroughly!

Ah, Sai! He is much like Ace, just a little less emotional, which is fine! I feel like you and Sai would make a couple for a couple reasons! He would love how mature you are, and how logical you can be, and-- like ace-- he loves the fact that you are extremely loyal to your friends! That is a true factor in the way he will see you, and it is for the better! He will se how strong you are, emotionally and will be envious and at the same time fascinated! I Feel like Sai will look at you with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage because he will love you that much! All the things you are interested he will want to hear with enthusiasm, everything you love he will want to learn and hear from you, to get to know you better!

Another thing is that if you were to go to him with your insecurities and how you are battling depression, he will try to understand, and once he does he will try to everything and anything to make sure you feel better! You need a massage? He’s on it! You need cuddles? oh yeah he will give you some! You need chocolate or sweets or anything of the like? He’ll run to the store, and be back 5 minutes tops! 

All in all, I feel like the cool, mature Sai, with a heart of pure gold will be such a good match for you! He will make sure that you uncomfortable with him, he will never want to make you unhappy, and he will definitely do anything i his power to make sure that you will keep on loving him as much as you can!

Rei! Now, with Rei, I wanted to go a more cute route. I feel that Rei would be equal parts and scared and in love with you! He sees how strong you are against people that oppose, he sees how strong you are for your friends, and how you have such a different personality to everybody else around him, and he will immediately fall in with you. Like instantly! To him, you’d be like a beautiful butterfly blooming right in front of him, and he will want to have you all tot himself! Of course, he won’t force you, but he will definitely watch you at a distance longingly!

He is very much an introvert and your calm but strong aura would definitely help with his anxiety! I just see him melting next you, into your lap or shoulder whenever you are around him because he is so comfortable around you. He doesn’t do this with just anybody so it would be a real honor! And when it it comes to your insecurities, he would want to make sure that you know he loves you the way are, and if you were to want to change something about yourself, then he will support you all the way, as long as you are happy! He will just love that you are such a freethinker and so openminded about things, so unlike him!

All in all, I feel like Rei would love you and (somewhat) idolize because you have all these traits that he would love to have. This perfectionist will understand how it feels to be such a perfectionist and will want to help you with that too! He will love to the moon and back(stroke)!

[adapembroke]

What I Learned From a Month of Praying to Mars

The planet Mars is not my friend.* I have been studying astrology long enough to know theoretically why Mars is important, and we have a decent working relationship when I'm in a crisis that needs an aggressive approach, but most of the time Mars shows up in my life as, frankly, stupid shit: Conflicts in my communities that are really unnecessary, injuries at spectacularly bad times, and the need to protect my boundaries from people who are more thoughtless than evil—which means they feel justifiably pissed off when I tell them to knock it off. To top it off, I have a history of being god-bothered by war gods, which is completely thematically inappropriate. I’m a Druid! Druids love peace. The ancient Druids separated armies on the edge of war, don’tcha know?

Recently, I had the opportunity to take Austin Coppock's class on planetary remediation. Planetary remediation is like physical therapy for difficult planets. The idea is that by bringing trouble planets' influence into your life in an intentional way, you can learn how to work with that energy more positively (or you can bribe the planet into being more friendly, depending on what you believe about astrology and fate). 

I didn't have Mars in mind when I decided to take this class. (I was more interested in learning how to work with my Venus in Aries.) But I've been working with Mars the most since I finished the class. Partly, that's because Austin suggested a ritual that sounded really easy for me to implement: For a month, on the planetary day of Mars (Tuesday) at the planetary hour of Mars (roughly 2:30 my time these days), pray the Orphic Hymn to Mars.

"All I had to do was read a paragraph aloud once a week four times, and that would improve my relationship with Mars?" I thought. Sold!

I wasn't familiar with the Orphic Hymns before I took Austin's class, but I really liked the hymn he shared with us. It was basically a very formal request that Mars busy himself with bringing love, parties, and abundance into my life, instead of causing problems.

I decided that I would do a short ritual that included the Orphic Hymn to Mars on Tuesday at 2:30pm four Tuesdays in a row in April and May.

For the first two weeks, this practice was easy. And nothing happened. I considered giving it up, but I'd made a commitment, so I decided to stick it out.

Then, I noticed that I was starting to become reluctant to do rituals outdoors. It's springtime in Oregon, the time of year when most people like to spend every possible moment outdoors stocking up on vitamin D. This, combined with quarantine, meant that my neighbors, who are usually at work or school during the day, were suddenly much more likely to be outside during the times when I would normally do rituals.

My neighbors are mostly nice people, but they believe that fences don't really have anything to do with privacy and what goes on in other people's yards is everyone’s business. I also live far enough away from the urban heart of Portland that my neighbors are red truck driving, Conservative talk-radio listening, just-folks Christians. I already had a bad reputation for being a liberal, Prius-driving, transplant who drove into town with parking stickers from Berkeley, California, and stays home on Sunday morning, puts sigils on the front door, and has men in the house when my husband(?) isn’t home. It wasn't hard to imagine how they would respond if they were outside when I started spinning in circles in the back yard, making occult gestures, and talking to the spirits of the air.

I started to find reasons to put all of my rituals off. For a week, Covid was a valid excuse for my cowardice. I wasn't getting new material from OBOD, anyway, so why bother trying to keep up with my studies? I'll run out of work soon, I said, and just be stuck twiddling my thumbs. Anyway, there was a crisis on. I was just being kind to myself, wasn't I? 

Then Tuesday rolled around. I stuck my head outside, and I heard one of my neighbors outside talking loudly on the phone on the other side of the fence a few yards from my ritual space. I had a choice: I could I keep my promise and do this ritual for an audience, or I could break a promise I'd made to Mars.

I've read The Odyssey, so I know what happens to people who break their promises to the gods. I don’t know what I believe about the relationship between the gods and the planets named for them, but I wasn’t going to risk it. I marched outside and very quietly and timidly cast a circle and called peace to the four directions. I took out my phone, opened the app with the hymn in it, and listened. My neighbor wasn't talking anymore. 

I looked at the hymn: "...bloody wars fierce and untamed...mortal destroying King, defiled with gore...thee human blood, swords, and spears delight..."

Why had I decided to do this?

I braved a glance at the fence. My neighbor was right there. She would hear me no matter what I did. I decided that my best option was to pretend that I knew exactly what I was doing and had full confidence in myself.

I called on all my old, rusty theater skills, took a deep diaphragmatic breath and bellowed the hymn.

"MAGNANIMOUS, UNCONQUERED, BOISTEROUS MARS!"

A moment later, I heard my neighbor's door slam. Not a sound was heard from that neighbor's yard for the rest of the afternoon.

I finished the hymn and unwound the circle.

As I stood there, trying to will my legs to stop shaking, I thought of what Austin said about what remediation does. The first step to solving problems with a planet is awareness, he said. When you start working with a planet, the issues that you have with a planet will bubble to the surface so that you can see and address them consciously.

Remembering this, I changed my mind about ending the ritual where I had planned and cast the circle again. I called to the spirits I work with and talked to them aloud, extemporaneously about why I was doing these rituals and what I hoped to get out of them.

When I started talking, I thought my issues with Mars were simple. To me, Mars was a nuisance that only showed up in my life to bring discomfort and pain. While I described my issues with Mars, I thought about the ways I struggle to enforce boundaries, my fear of taking up space, my reluctance to compete with others for space even when they're pushing into space that is rightfully mine, space that I need to be safe or autonomous.

I thought of nightmares I've been having since the pandemic started in which I am stuck in a room full of people who keep hugging me and refuse to wear masks. The world is having a big collective conversation about personal space right now. How much do we need? How much space between people is enough? What do you do when others don't practice social distancing around you the way you think they should? What do you do when the people around you demand more space than you think they need? What do you do when there simply isn't enough space for everyone? What do you do when your very existence makes people uncomfortable...or angry?

I realized that my issues with Mars are exactly aligned with this world-wide conflict over personal space, and I'm learning that playing it safe and avoiding situations where your needs are going to make people uncomfortable isn’t enough. Sometimes you have to fight for your right to exist.

I wouldn't say that Mars and I are reconciled, but I don't see the red planet as a cruel, sword-wielding, maniac anymore. I realize now that I have lessons to learn from the god of war. I have work to do when it comes to enforcing boundaries and dealing with conflict. Insisting on my right to practice my religion in peace in my own backyard was a first step, but I am almost certain that this frank exchange of views with Mars isn't over yet.

*There are several astrological reasons for my difficult relationship with Mars. I have a day chart, which means that Mars is the malefic planet that I have the most difficult relationship with. Mars rules my south node, which means Mars is connected with past life trauma. And Mars is conjunct Chiron, Lucifer (and Ceres) in my 11th house and trine my Moon in Aquarius, which means the planet of the god of war is connected with present-life trauma and discomfort, too, while also getting tangled up with my ability to find peace and take care of myself. Grr.

[halcyonbound]

( SAMARA WEAVING, UNKNOWN, SHE/HER )  We opened the gates to the seelie court for CAMILLA DE' MEDICI and we are curious to see how the DEMON  ( PRINCESS OF HELL ), that is often described as the halcyon, will contribute to the new era ━ are they the hunter, the prey ; or are they just here to search for Cosimo de' Medici, their twin brother? We will find our answers in due time and until then, we hope that they can keep their little secret from getting exposed. It could be dangerous if everyone knew what we know… ( sab, she/her, 23, gmt+2 )

STATS .

( taken ) name :  camilla de’ medici . age :  unknown  ( stopped counting a long time ago ) . birthday : july 3 . nationality :  n.a. / italian . species :  demon  ( princess of hell / formerly angel ) . gender :  non-binary woman . orientation :  pansexual & panromantic . religion :  formerly catholic . moral alignment :  lawful neutral . occupation :  princess of italy /  trained seamstress . location :  cosimo de’ medici’s mansion .

PERSONALITY .

open, caring, compassionate.  she was always a little more ...  humane  than most of her siblings. her deep fascination with everything  living  and  moving  and  changing  extended to humanity - from the moment she first came to earth  ( still an angel then, and naively hopeful )  she had a sort of natural charm, always appearing approachable, friendly, and optimistic. while none of that changed, and she is usually  genuine  in all her feelings, there is a spark of  calculation ,  at times - she’s seen too much of the world to simply accept things at face value anymore.

loyal to a fault.  those she considers  family  are her everything, and she’d do  anything  to keep them safe. camilla generally strives for compromise and peace, for the sole reason that she’s  tired  of the fighting and the conflicts and the sorrows she witnessed in hell, but when the people she loves are concerned, all bets are off. whatever they need, she will provide  —  at whatever cost.

vindictive. it is hard to loose her good opinion  ( or amused tolerance, as it may stand )  but once someone does, they are in  serious trouble .  although she barely showcases her demonic powers, she  does  know how to use them - and to mess with a princess of hell is, quite possibly, one of the worst mistakes one could make. it takes a lot to get her going, but when she does, she’s easily lost in violence.  ( a touch of  hell-ish insanity  is hard to hide when it comes in so  handy  in certain situations. )

free-spirited.  spurns rules and regulations; and bounds of any sort. likes travelling, moving, discovering, trying out new things. incredibly curious about anything and everything and reacts with wholehearted  attempts  and a humorous  ‘ watch me ’  at someone telling her  ‘ you can’t ’ .

perfectionist with a limited attention span;  she has long since stopped trying to wrestle her mind into any sense of order, and tends to give in to impulses rather quickly. usually, they’re  positive  ones - new projects, interests, ideas - and it frustrates her a little when she cannot seem to finish any of them to her liking. it makes for ... interesting situations, however, when she does work for hell.

SKILLS .

trained  ( and talented )  seamstress.  her interest in clothing - and not just wearing, but  making  it - comes from that leftover angelic urge to  create ,  she thinks. it started when cosimo and her were taken in by teresa; the woman was of the opinion that a  princess  needed to have certain skills, and after starting with embroidery, camilla quickly became interested in and learned the other aspects of the trade, and the hobby has remained with her since.

pianist.  another one of these skills teresa so valued was  musical proficiency .  her singing, in their society’s general opinion, is no good  ( not that she cares; she’ll sing as loudly and falsely as she wants if it brings her joy, thank you very much )  and she never quite got the hang of string instruments, but she managed to turn into a passable pianist. then again, centuries of practice will do that.

good mediator.  ( when she wants to be. )

demonic powers.  elevated strength, speed, and agility; possession, levitation, teleportation, and the lot. as she’s a princess of hell, her abilities are much stronger than those of normal demons, although she ranks on the lower end when compared with her immediate siblings, as she does not practice as much and hasn’t in centuries. her powers manifest mainly more defensive aspects, and she has an affinity for telekinesis  ( as  that  is something she actually uses regularly for convenience ) ,  making her able to manipulate a large amount of objects or people at once and with surprising precision.

BIO .

they barely remember their creation.  there was light ,  as it is said, and from  nothing  they became  something ;  one  thing among many. heaven was home, and that was enough  ( for a time ) ,  and they were one with their siblings  ( until they weren’t ) . their fledgling days are a blur, now ;  only a few memories stand out. cosimo and his tales of earth ;  their strive for  making ,  for  being ;  reprimands, restrictions, rules ;  their other brothers’ annoyance - then anger - then fury - with all of it.

falling  is much clearer in their mind ;  mainly because it  hurt .  worth it ,  they told themselves as their wings burned up and their grace shattered and split and warped itself into something  else  somewhere between heaven and hell. they left, less out of malice than curiosity ;  for the need to see, and to  become ,  to be more than heaven’s meticulously directed hand.  corruption ,  they knew their siblings called it.  freedom ,  they whispered as they stretched into their new form,  beyond  what god intended.

except they weren’t free ,  not really ;  there was a  price for everything, even  becoming .  hell was ... much the same as heaven, they found, except viewed through a mirror. the humanity they idolized sold themselves out, but despite sharing their sibling’s curiosity to see just  how far  they could turn, hell’s work held little joy for them. they did not want to see the result - they wanted  the process .  they wanted  life .

rising ,  in turn, was much easier given their position, they remember. at one point they simply left for an assigned task and didn’t come back - creeping through the cracks of the world, looking for ... something .

demon’s didn’t have  true vessels ,  she knew from those who frequented earth ;  but whatever was left of her grace, twisted though it might have been, recognized  something  in the girl. or maybe it was something  around  her - it mattered little when they took possession of the body. they were surprised, though, to reconcile that much with her - they  felt  her fear, her recent loss, her remaining love for a brother long gone ;  a brother they now recognized as their own. they didn’t even need to lie to swear they would protect him above all else before the girl let go.

she became camilla .  after recognizing cosimo’s grace in her vessel’s twin brother, her decision to remain on earth became final. it wasn’t just her promise to the girl ;  she’d missed her brother more than any of her other siblings, and he welcomed her to his side with open arms, accepted her more than heaven or hell ever had. for the first time since creation, she felt ... whole .  human. like she had choices ;  had the  freedom  to choose a home.

eventually ,  they ended up in italy, being  ‘ adopted ’ ,  of sorts, by the ruling family. the situation never ceased to amuse her, but she liked teresa well enough  ( it felt interesting, being  mothered )  and being once again styled  ‘ princess ’  opened the doors for a myriad of new experiences. this  was precicely the  joy of life  she had always craved.  ( and if hell came a’knocking, no one forced her to open the door. )

things took a turn  when cosimo decided to get married and fell in love - unfortunately in the wrong order, she thought then. illyria was … a special case. camilla didn’t particularly care for political marriages  ( the trend of the decade was  romance  and she’d read far too many novels on the subject )  but her brother seemed open enough to the idea. so for his sake, camilla made an effort to befriend her; she was intrigued by the dragon and enjoyed her company with others, but they never quite became confidantes - camilla bemourned her brothers’ heart too much.

when instead ,  he fell in love with one of illyria’s ladies, she was ecstatic - this  was what was meant to be. anastasia makes him happy, and so camilla is happy, too ; conversation was so much  easier  with her, and camilla came to love her like a sister and did everything to make her feel comfortable and supported in her new position as  mistress - especially with a child on the way.

who could have expected neglecting illyria could have such  dramatic  consequences?

good things burn as good things do ,  and when cosimo was called back to heaven,  something  didn’t sit right with her. that fear was validated soon after when ana and aurora were attacked ;  and with no way of knowing when cosimo would get back, she did what she could to help them.  ( it wasn’t much. it, arguably, might have made things worse ;  but it was the best option at the time. the  only  option. )  

when she heard from heaven next ,  however, it wasn’t from cosimo, but someone  else ,  with a very clear message. furious as it made her, she accepted the offered deal ;  but she’d never hated heaven more than the day cosimo returned with memories altered and something ... missing. she lied and laughed and tried to make up for forgotten happiness as much as she could ;  as much as was possible without raising suspicion ;  attempting to return to some form of normalcy. 

CURRENT SITUATION .

centuries later ,  with cosimo’s memories recovered and his family returned to earth safe and sound, they finally found some semblance of peace. camilla tries not to dwell on the past, but her role in all of it weighs heavy on her heart.

now, while they are ... mostly stable  in the fae realm, she tries to keep a low profile  ( fearing the past eventually catching up )  although she grows more and more  antsy  being stuck in the same place for so long.

she’s offered her services  as a seamstress, working from a little house in the village of spring ;  it’s a nice way to stay occupied and keep an eye on new arrivals and the general talk of the town.

IDEAS FOR CONNECTIONS / PLOTS .

LOVED AND LOST :  camilla loves to love. she gets along easily with just about anyone  ( if she wants to )  and collects hearts like other girls do necklaces - but she’s just as likely to give her own away. most of her relationships over the centuries have ended amicably, simply due to growing apart. her one and only engagement is the notable exception to this.

→  WANTED CONNECTION POST : ex-fiancé 

BLOOD OF THE COVENANT : throughout her life, she’s abandoned both heaven  and  hell, and while she still holds some affection for her  siblings ,  she’s stopped hoping for a friendly reception. besides that, she’s angry at heaven and hiding from hell, so that should make for some interesting dynamics.

BAD MOON RISING :  as a princess of hell, she was directly involved with creating more demons. i’d love to explore a connection to someone she met in hell and/or screwed with on earth!

any kind of relationship, really: platonic, romantic, antagonistic. whatever shennanigans you can imagine!

hi all, i’m sab and this is my chaotic friendly-ish demon babe. i’m also writing darcy, who you can find over  here .  if you’re interested in talking / plotting / just starting a thread based off of these ideas, hmu!! i’m always up to chat!

[kpersonkwriter]

Comfort Zone

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Oneshot (College AU, Established relationship AU)

Word Count: 5840

Genre: Smutttttttt, some fluff

Warnings: Smut, temperature play (ice cubes), blindfold play (male receiving)

A/N: Written at 2 in the morning because insomnia is a whole ass bitch. But stay safe lovelies.

 Anyone who knew you well knew that you were an enigma in itself. You were full of oxymorons – both hot and cold, both an extrovert and introvert and both a believer in the sciences and maths yet a believer in religion and the likes of astrology. You were a photography student, preferring to capture a story through the lens rather than be the focus of said lens, yet you were calculated, you always had a plan and thought things through before you did them. You hated parties – or any social interaction to be fair – preferring to coop up in your room with your camera and trusty Netflix selection. So anyone who saw what you were doing that night you met your boyfriend would have thought you were crazy and have told you to get checked out.

For one, you had gone to this party voluntarily, shocking your friends, and had even been the one to suggest going in the first place. You were the one to host pres in your room for your friends – Hwa Young, Ji Hye and Yoon Ah – before the three of you took an Uber to the house where the party was being held. One of your friends – although friends was a stretch – whom you had met on your course was throwing a congratulatory party and had invited you in one of the last lectures of the term that you two shared. You being you, of course hesitated, trying to come up with a socially acceptable excuse rather than “sorry I don’t know you that well to hang out at a party with you” for that seemed a tad rude. However, it was during your last lecture that following week that you had a change of heart and decided to go to the party anyway. Maybe it was because you too were fed up with the dissertation as well or the fact that you recently saw an Instagram post of your ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend. It caught you off guard since he had been the one to bring up the future, including marriage, yet decided to move on less than a month after he had broken up with you. You scoffed thinking about it, he had been tearful and said that he just didn’t love you anymore and that he had felt sorry for stringing you along. Complete and utter bullshit. The naïve you at the time was distraught yet your dissertation had to be completed and the party to finish it all of seemed to be a worthy distraction, and you supposed, a welcome change than sitting in your dorm room by yourself as the smell of flatmate’s weed seeped through the cracks of your door.

It was two and a half hours into the party when you became tipsy. Ji Hye and Yoon Ah having left with their respective girlfriend and boyfriend, as you stayed with Hwa Young, both of you currently engaged in a beer pong battle with two members of the football team. Hwa Young had asked if you were sure when you suggested this but honestly the sour taste that Instagram post had left you, alongside the overwhelming relief of submitting your dissertation, meant that you wanted to just forget everything. The spectators that had gathered you were hollering and shouting encouragement for you were the last ball with the winner being decided by your next shot. You smirked as you glanced at the two boys opposite you – Taehyung and Hoseok – if you remembered correctly as they wiped their mouths with the backs of their hands of the beer – or Jack Daniels – they had consumed. House rules meant that some cups had beer whist others had a JD with Red Bull instead. You made your shot with the only thing guiding it being hope as you hoped that you’d win. You heard the cheers before you as you were enveloped into a hug by Hwa Young and some other people you didn’t know. The crowd dispersed after the boys took their shots of Bacardi (they said it was their least favourite liquor) as they walked up to you.

“So I guess we owe you celebratory drinks?” Hoseok winked eyeing Hwa Young up and down, gesturing to the drinks station.

“I guess you do.” She giggled slotting his arms in his before turning to look at you. “You coming?”

“Nah, I’ll probably leave in a bit anyway. Go have fun.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Go!” You lightly pushed her towards Hoseok as they made there way to the alcohol. You sighed, your introverted nature meaning that all the mingling had made you tired as the alcohol lessened its effects on you. You had a right mind to leave when someone handed you a cup in front of you. You eyed it suspiciously as you turned to face the man in front of you. And fuck. He was gorgeous. He was at least a head taller than you yet his body proportion was perfect. His lips were a beautiful glossy red and in all honesty you wanted to kiss him. His chest was broad and judging by your uni sports hoodie that he wore, you gathered he was on a sports team, quite possibly with Taehyung who had mentioned he was in a sports team in passing although you couldn’t remember which. His doe eyes looked at you expectantly for some sort of an answer whilst his raised eyebrows asked you whether or not you were going to take the cup at all.

“What is it?”

“Just water. A thank you drink for crushing Hoseok-hyung and Taehyung-hyung at beer pong.” He grinned.

“If it’s a thank you drink surely it should be some sort of alcohol?”

“Maybe, but you look done with everyone here so thought water would be better.”

“Thanks.”

It was a somewhat awkward conversation but you the more you two talked that night, the more you realised he was so far from the jock stereotype that movies and dramas portrayed. However, He was incredibly shy, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, occasionally wiping his presumably sweaty palms on his jeans. It was only after you two moved to a quieter area, taking a seat on the pavement outside, that he made eye contact with you and started to let his personality shine through. You two ended up bonding over photography since he had a strong interest in videography. He had told you that he had been responsible for the Varsity video that year that went viral amongst your university for its impressive videography skills. He was scheduled to play football but was side-lined with an injury so decided to video everything instead. It quickly spread through social media and soon everyone had seen the video, it being projected on the plasma screens in the gym, the café, the shop, the library and the lobby of the lecture centre. As a result, Jung Kook had been somewhat of a celebrity within the football team and of course, almost naturally, the cheerleading squad. You had heard reports, and had witnessed that evening, that he would be approached by multiple girls in clubs yet refused their advances but paid no attention to them since you frankly just didn’t give a shit nor was he in your social circle. You also bonded over the love of dogs and was surprised to learn that you volunteered at the same local dog shelter although you had never ran into each other due to conflicting class schedules and thus free time. You chatted about your latest intake of dogs that had been found as strays in Mexico and how you had hoped that they’d find their adopted homes soon. And it was then, almost two hours later, that he stuttered asked if you wanted to walk two of the dogs together that weekend.

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It was now 9 months later after your first date together and even that first date was to much debate between Jungkook and you. He claimed that since he did not label it as a date, your first date was actually two weeks later for a hot chocolate date, both of you disliking coffee for its’ bitterness. However, you claimed it was of course. Either way, you were still together three months later and currently on your way home from work.

Tonight was date night and you were sure Jungkook would have let himself in with the key to your apartment that you gave to him shyly as he left after a late movie night a couple of months ago. Yet you didn’t know what to expect that night. You two had been taken things slow, you being Jungkook’s first “proper” girlfriend and the scar that your ex had left you, and so you two hadn’t had sex yet. Jungkook had sex a couple of times before university, he told you, but they were fuelled by teenage desire and awkwardness that he said, in his own words, that he hadn’t had “proper” sex. However, he wanted you to be comfortable with him in opening up and trusting him before, as well as wanting to get to know you properly. You respected that and didn’t press him after that although you two had kissed but always left it with heavy pants from them instead.

As you stepped into your apartment that you had bought with Hwa Young  after you two graduated (although she was currently on a Italy trip with Hoseok), you were hit with an intoxicating aroma, your stomach grumbling at the smell.

“Jungkook I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

“Hey,” You smiled, hugging his waist as the aroma of the pasta sauce hitting your nose. “Jungkook, did you cook?” You asked although the answer was clearly obvious at the image in front of you. Jungkook had a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder with a large red stain – suspiciously like red wine – at the bottom of his shirt with his grey jogging bottoms and barefeet. Ah, the typical Asian.

He turned round to give you a kiss as he noticed you staring and smiled sheepishly. “I spilled a bit and I didn’t bring a spare change of clothes.” And of course his broad chest would never fit in any of your tops.

“I’ve got one of your hoodies that I stole in my room. Pass the shirt so I can get it out.” He tossed it to you and you went to soak the shirt in the stain remover and water and let it soak before you dressed yourself and came out back into the kitchen to hand him your his hoodie. Yet you forgot he would be shirtless. You couldn’t help but linger your eyes over him as you watched him move around the kitchen, stood over the stove and stirring the sauce. He had a large tattoo – a dragon – covering his right shoulder and although this hadn’t necessarily been the first time seeing him shirtless (he loved to walk around shirtless when it was just you two in the apartment), it never ceased to amaze you at how devilishly  and unfairly handsome he could be.

“When will dinner be ready? I’ll set the table.”

“Oh, is 10 minutes ok with you?”

“You’d better be careful Jungkook,” you warned him playfully. “I may never let you leave.”

Dinner was incredible, the pasta being delicious, although you refused seconds due to the simple laws of physics making any additional food in your stuffed stomach being impossible. You watched your boyfriend eat, a big smile painting your face, before he cleaned the plates and putting them in the sink before coming to sit next to you on the sofa, sipping your wine, as you put something on TV.

An hour later into some rom com, Jung Kook spoke. “I want to have sex tonight Y/N.”

Your attention was immediately diverted from the scene on TV as you escaped his arms and turned to face him. “You sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I’m sure Y/N.” He was fidgety again, reminiscent of the time when you first met, as he avoided your gaze. Smiling, you reached to lift his chin so he met your eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me what you’ve thought about.” You challenged him softly. Jungkook’s face turned a bright shade of red, eyes wanting so much to skirt away again. “Tell me Kook.”

His face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, blush only increasing at the thought of his fantasies about you.

“I’ve urm… thought of you dominating me.”

“Go on.” You smiled, swinging a leg over him to straddle him. You noticed the hiss in a breath of surprise as his hands grabbing her thighs.

“I’ve thought about you teasing me until I beg and you calling me…” He trailed off but a small kiss on neck urged him to carry on. “baby boy.” It was a whisper and you knew why. It was the complete opposite to the classic jock stereotype – manly and loud – yet you supposed Jung Kook was the complete opposite of a jock in many levels.

“Are you sure Kook? I don’t want you to do this and regret it.” Your eyes were almost black with desire and you were seriously testing your every ounce of self – control.

“I’m sure Y/N… I want to do it.”  

“Ok… Safe word is red ok?” You gently kissed him on the lips as you felt him nod with a small “ok” before lifting a hand to cup the side of his face and you could honestly just sit and stare at his perfect face. Jungkook’s eyes slid closed as he leaned into your touch as they opened again as you brushed your thumb back and forth as your boyfriend mirrored your movement on your thighs. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, weaving fingers into his hair, as you started to pepper kisses on the chamber of his neck. You would have missed the quiet moan if it had not be so close to your ear.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Take me to the bedroom?” He nodded, lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom. Sitting down on the bed, you continued to straddle him, and moved to kiss him.

Every man had “their” style of kissing which could tell you a lot about the man himself. Sometimes two people simply didn’t click – teeth hit teeth, tongues worked against each other. Some were wetter, others were invaders as the entire length of their tongue whilst others barely penetrated your mouth. Some men were slow, savouring the slow rhythm, whilst others were heated and fast. And of course, some men were pythons, opening their mouths so wide that you feared you were witnessing a black hole. Of course every person had their own preference of kissers, and you? You hated the pythons and wet kissers but liked men who would let you set the pace. Jungkook was the one who let you set the pace.

Kissing Jungkook was a bit like coming home. It was comfortable for his lips were so soft and like silk which cushioned your lips. His lips were, you supposed, like your head hitting the pillow when your body was aching with the flu, it was a relief that you desperately needed. You couldn’t pinpoint “what” he was doing with the way he moved his mouth and tongue except describing it as being exactly right, with his tongue dancing with yours softly and elegantly.

Jungkook groaned as you slipped a hand underneath his hoodie, guiding the offensive item of clothing over his head, as you admired the beauty in front of you. And Jungkook was definitely a thing of beauty. He was unworldly. You ran your fingertips across his pecs that others dreamed about, then his shoulders and down the lines of his arms which he used every football practice and game. The crisp contours of his stomach, the clear definition of his pecs, the incredible construction of his arms all created a beautiful study in human form, each part of his body being the perfect form for the intended function of playing football weekly and having practice twice a week. You intended to study every bit of your boyfriend as you enjoyed his muscles twitch as you skimmed your fingertips across.

You leaned down, still straddling him, as you kissed his neck leaving a trail of hickeys up his neck before pushing yourself up to taste his chest. However, Jungkook seemed to have other ideas.

“Y/N… I want to touch you first.” He placed his hand on your wrists, stopping you. You smiled and settled back in his lap as Jungkook moves his hands to your sides as you hooked your fingers to take off your t-shirt that you had changed into, lifting it clean off your body. You were desperate by now, rocking your hips against Jungkook’s growing erection in his trousers, moans being heard as his hands reached to unhook your bra, pulling it off and throwing if to off to somewhere on the floor.

The moment that he started to explore your breasts and nipples was the moment you realised that your boyfriend was truly good, excellent even, at everything. And that he was truly an oxymoron, like you. The very few jocks that you had been with were sloppy, them presenting a front that they were a sex god when in reality they couldn’t even locate the clit. But Jungkook? He was a natural prodigy. Either that or he had been with more women that he let on, and you trusted his words.

He studied your face for the slightest indication of your pleasure and responded to the slightest movement or sound that you made as he worked your touch on you. He’d barely begun on lightly biting your nipples, having sucked hickeys on the flesh of your breast, and you were already uninhibited at his ministrations.

“What do you want Y/N? I want you to tell me.”

You pressed off his lap before standing, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor, before climbing onto Jungkook’s lap.

“Please Y/N. I want to make you feel good.” It was sexy, his desire to make you happy and satisfied, and you smiled as you took his hands, guiding it between your legs, moving it up and down your lips.

“You’re wet.” It was a breathless statement.

“You make me.” You bought his hand up to your lips before sucking on them, maintaining eye contact all the time, and you swore that you saw his eyes turn to black with lust. That seemed to have flicked the switch inside him as he pushed one of his fingers inside you, causing your body to spasm at the feeling and throwing your head back and crying out in pleasure. You matched the pace of his fingers by riding him, breathing becoming heavy.

“Tell me what you want Y/N.” Jungkook whispered, almost breathless at the sight, sound and feeling of you becoming undone at his touch.

“Deeper Kook.” You, the strong, stubborn one in your friendship group that never took no for an answer, had resorted to begging now.

Jungkook listened immediately to what you asked, adding another finger before thrusting deep inside. You yelled as he hit the sweet spot inside you.

“Right there Kook! Don’t stop.” You yelled as he hit the sweet spot. “Add another finger Kook, please.” You just about panted out, changing into a sigh of pleasure as he thrust three fingers into you. He took his other hand and placed it on your clit and started his next assault of ministrations there forcing you to collapse in pleasure on his shoulder for the combination of him rubbing your clit and you riding his fingers was almost overwhelming. Jungkook caught on immediately, not stopping his assault.

“Right there. Right there. Don’t stop Kook. Faster. Harder.” You panted in his ear and it only fuelled Jungkook to go faster and harder, something about you getting closer to your orgasm turning him on immensely.

You couldn’t take anymore of his perfect assault and you hit an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body spasmed over and over as Jungkook looked at you almost in wonder, as if he questioned if he was really the one to make you feel like that. He felt your muscles contracting around your fingers as you collapsed against his chest, your body eventually relaxing and sagging against him. Pants from both yourself and Jungkook filled the room as you came down from your high and Jungkook as he held you in his arms.

But apparently that wasn’t enough for Jungkook, who resumed his assault with the intensity that had driven you over the edge. It wasn’t long before another orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks as you jerked and contracted on his fingers again with pleasure as Jungkook held you again as you shook again. You immediately felt the loss as Jungkook withdrew his fingers as he held you tight against him, stroking your hair and whispering compliments and ‘are you ok?’s into your ear.

After regaining a sense of yourself and some energy, you moved up to kiss him again as your hands moved down to his waist to his jogging bottoms and hooked your thumbs under the elastic, Jungkook freezing mid-kiss as his breath hitched. You slid his trousers free of his hips and moved to allow you slid them down his legs, throwing them somewhere to the side. Jungkook hissed as his erection was free from his trouser – he went commando since you were the only one home in the apartment – as his eyes were glued to you leaving a trail of kisses down his body.

“Fuck,” you unknowingly muttered looking back up to catch his eyes unable to control your expression of just pure awe. You had seen long cocks, short cocks, thick cocks, thin cocks, pretty ones and ugly ones but this was the most beautiful cock you had ever seen. He was huge and thick, although not unnervingly so.

“I hope that’s a good fuck?”

“You play in the men’s football team and you’ve probably seen all the guy’s cocks. You must know that you’re… impressive.”

“I know that I’m larger than average.”  He said sheepishly as you rolled your eyes at what you deemed as the understatement of the century. “But the girls that I’ve been with said that I hurt them and I… don’t want to hurt you Y/N.” The concern was evident in his features and you smiled as Jungkook’s nature shone through even in times like this. Contrary to the tough guy image as a jock, he would stop and at least pet every stray dog that you met on your walks or would point out beautiful flowers along your walks. He had a gentle soul and it was a stark contrast to the competition driven player he was on the pitch.

“If you take it slow then I’ll be fine and once I adjust it won’t hurt. But first I want to blindfold you if you’re ok with that.”

“I’d love that Y/N.” He broke into a smile as you got up to your chest of drawers, pulling out a tie that you had once worn to a Halloween party a year ago (and had regretted thus leaving an hour into said party).

He was entranced and completely fixated by you as you moved up towards him again, kissing his stomach as they clenched in reaction.

“What’s the safe word Kook?”

“Red.”

“Good.”

“Y/N,” Your name escaped his lips as he sucked in another sharp breath as you pressed a kiss to the head of his now raging cock. It was now an angry red, itching to be inside you as you wrapped the tie around his head, making sure to completely block his eyes. You instructed him to lie down and he did, with his head resting on the pillow, lips parted in anticipation and his cock impossibly hard.

Jungkook forgot to breath momentarily when you placed a hand on his chest, slowly lettings your fingernails rake his chest, drawing light feather circles around his shoulder. To Jungkook however, it was a painfully teasing touch as goose bumps erupted across his skin. You were teasing him with the lightest of touches that sent his nerves on end, as he waited for you to touch the next bit of skin, hypnotising him as no – one had ever touched him like you were currently doing. The next touch on his pecs were so light that it almost tickled with each touch bringing nerve endings to life. Jungkook honestly felt that his pecs were on fire with the perfect feeling of your teasing touch as his body jerked in reaction as his breathing became suddenly ragged as he didn’t know how to handle the sensation that you’d shocked him with.

“Wait here Kook.” You whispered into his ear as an idea struck you, smiling devilishly although he couldn’t see. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge as you made your way back. When you came back, you took a deep gulp of the water that had been in the fridge for three days as you held the freezing water in your mouth. Once satisfied, you leaned into Jungkook again who immediately smiled at your closeness as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Jungkook let out an audible groan, hands feeling your head as he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair, pulling your more deeply into his mouth. His body involuntarily jerked upwards, his cock hitting the roof of your mouth.

“Shit I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to do that.” He moved his hands to pull the tie from his eyes as you saw the pain in his eyes. You smiled, hoping to reassure him a little, before grabbing his hands and holding them against his sides. You then smirked as you angled your head forward and slowly ran your tongue down his length from the tip before taking him deep into the back of your throat with no warning.

“Y/N!” Jungkook breathed, hands formed into tight fists.

Jungkook’s entire length didn’t fit into your mouth, since you had a small gag reflex, so you added your hand to the mix and began working his length with your fist and mouth, varying the speed and pressure. You heard Jungkook’s moans and groans and it had been minutes of you sucking him, deepthroating him as well as giving him a hand job and Jungkook’s reaction was almost absent. He didn’t even seem to be on edge and you frowned as you sat back.

“Am I doing something wrong Kook?”

“Of course not.”

“Buy you’re not close to coming?”

“You want me to… cum in your mouth?” It was such an innocent question which reflected his puppy dog expression that he had on his face at that moment in time, minus the hair that stuck to his forehead from the sweat or his flushed cheeks.

“Of course Kook. I want to taste you.” You replied, straight – faced, as if it was the most matter of fact thing.

“I-“ It was cut off as you took him back into your mouth again, smiling around his as you heard and felt Jungkook succumb to the pleasure. Loud moans echoed in the room as you increased your intensity, one hand around the base of his cock and the other cupping his balls, palming and playing with them as you bought him closer and closer to his high. Jungkook was trembling by now and his hands grabbed your hair as he yelled your name as he came, body going rigid as he released in your mouth. You continued to gently suck him as he released more into your mouth, swallowing every bit of him deeply, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. His jaw dropped and you smiled, using a finger to wipe some from the corner of your mouth, Jungkook continuing to stare as his mouth opened then shut as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You slid back up to his chest and nestled into his side as he held you tight, placing a kiss to your hair as you traced lazy circles with your nails. In all honestly, you were dripping wet from sucking and teasing him, high from the response you’d been given, yet you didn’t want to overwhelm your boyfriend.

“Let me know when you want to continue.” You whispered in his ear.

It couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes before Jungkook said he was ready.

“Thank god.” You blurted out for you were so wet from sucking him.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?” He held you against his sides. You took his hands between your legs to show him how wet you were for him.

“I’m sure Kook.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Y/N.”

“I promise that you won’t hurt me. I’ll take it slow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise Kook.” You kissed him, hoping that you reassured him enough. It seemed to work as you felt tension leave his body as he deepened the kiss.

“I know you want me to fully dominate you but next time. Tonight we’re taking things slow.” You kissed him one last time as you moved to straddle him, as you did earlier, Jungkook groaning as he felt your wetness on his cock.

“Y/N please.” He begged and you took it as a sign to sit on him so that he entered you. You took it slow, his length and girth stretching you completely. The sharp pain of the first inch of him lasted moments longer than it normally took to feel comfortable because he was so big but you waited before taking a few more inches of him. You had tried your best to hide your pain as not to worry Jungkook but it was evidently futile.

“Y/N are you ok?” Jungkook asked in a panic. He tried to pull out of you but you held his hips firmly against you.

“I’m fine Kook. Just need to adjust a bit.” You smiled, stroking his cheek.

“For as long you need.”

It struck you then that he hadn’t taken any pleasure at all, too focused on you instead, as he held your hips so that you didn’t completely take him in. It felt impossibly long for you to fully take him in, adjusting to his big size, but it eventually dissipated as pleasure overtook to be the overwhelming feeling.

“Kook,” you cried as your breath hitched. “Move.”

It was a tentative, small movement at first as you cried his name again and dug your nails into his shoulders. You could tell that he believed that you weren’t in pain anymore when his own eyes clenched shut as he allowed pleasure to hit as you continued to ride him, enjoying Jungkook turning his attention to your breast as he licked, bit and sucked them, causing you to moan loudly.

“Y/N… I’m going to…”

“Then do Kook.”

“Want to be on top when I do.” It was a grunt and you knew that he was doing everything in his power to not coming. He moved so that now he was on top, thrusting in and out of you, revelling the feeling of how you felt. You were everything that he had dreamed about and more, with your hair an imperfect mess, stray strands sticking to the sweat on your forehead. Your lips were slightly swollen from kissing him that night and he could honestly spend the rest of his life just kissing you. Your neck were sure to be peppered with hickeys the next day but he couldn’t care less when it looked so inviting. Your breasts were the same as he moved to massage one of them in his hand whilst holding your nipple in between his teeth and lightly pulling upwards. And the best thing of all in his opinion were your eyes. They lit up talking about photography especially with your master’s degree show and submission of your portfolio coming up, cried at the ending scene from Marley and Me and were currently dark with lust yet still radiated the pure love that you had for him.

“Want you to go harder.”

“It’s been too long… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise to tell if you’re hurting me ok?” You urged him down to be able to kiss him again as you started to match his thrusts to let him know that you were ready. Jungkook got the hint as he increased his speed as you urged him on.

“Harder Kook please.” You begged as he pushed stronger and deeper, your moans and begging serving as encouragement. He moved his weight from his forearms to wrapping his hands around your shoulders, holding you and bracing your body as he thrusted harder into you.

You kept begging for more and Jungkook pounded into you with such intensity you hadn’t though possible, you gritting your teeth at the force as his hands were sure to leave imprints on your shoulders as he pulled them as he slammed into you.

“Feels so good Kook. Let go.” He kept thrusting and it eventually became too much for both of you as you came first, walls pulsing around him as you cried his name, panting heavily. It was that image that threw him off the edge as he came impossibly deep inside you, releasing his cum as he slumped on top of you, although being careful that he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight. Heavy panting filled the room as he pressed a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Kook.” You smiled, matching his.

Once you had gained some sense of normality and control, he gently placed you beside him on the bed before coming back shortly after with a glass of water in his hand and a towel from the bathroom.

“Here.” He gave you the water as you gulped down a sip as Jungkook moved to wipe the wetness from your thighs with the towel.

“How did that compare to your imagination?”

“100 times better. Thank you.” He threw the towel to the floor before joining you in the bed, holding you in his arms. He traced lazy circles across your stomach as his built size enveloped you – you loved how little you felt wrapped around him.

“You’re so tiny.” He whispered.

“Can still kick your ass baby boy.” And both you and Jungkook had content smiles painted on your faces as you let sleep take over you. Who knew that stepping outside your comfort zone would let you meet your comfort zone? You guessed that life was weird and funny like that.

[somilkyshaky]

S4 Trailer analysis

You wanted analyses? Well, here you go!

I don’t pretend to see everything and know everything; I’m just sharing with you my interpretation and my thoughts (and a lot of my excitment too).

I already did this kind of “analysis” for all the clips of the first episode of season 2, so if you already read them, it’s clearly the same kind of thing.

Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy!

(I allowed myself to take the trailer’s screenshots from @inmyarmswrappedin, thank you for sharing them in the tag!)

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I don’t want to take to much time with the date changing color because a lot of people already talked about it. Just, it’s really symbolic to pass the 9th April from yellow to white to say that this date is long gone; and then showing the 3rd September in yellow to say that it’s the new date.

ANYWAY! Let’s get into it!

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Okay, first row of quick extracts:

First shot and we have a worried Amira, walking alone. “The season is about her and the problems she needs to deal with, alone”, that’s clearly what they’re telling us here. (I love this light scarf btw)

Okay, first I thought she was smoking and I was like “EXCUSE ME? What the hell is happening?” but then I just opened my eyes and breathed again. We have Cris, maybe Viri in the background? The two other hands I’m like “I don’t know but maybe Eva/Joana and Lucas?”.

We have Amira in the middle of the shot, as if the world was turning around her, but she’s not “a part of it” you know? She again clearly seems worried. We understand here that she doesn’t feel that comfortable in her group of friends.

Finally, we see our queen SMILING! I kind of feel that the entire trailer is composed by parallels between two worlds (like for the poster of the season). We were with the girl/boy squad and now we have a new character that I suppose to be a girl from Amira’s association (the “morocco” poster). We also were with a group and here there’s something more intimate with only one person. The colors were cold, here they’re warm. Clearly, this shot is here in opposition, in contrast, with the one before (AND DAMN I’M HERE FOR THAT).

Amira alone again, it closes the loop and the first “row of quick extracts”. She seems confident, maybe she does her makeup or something?

Oh, I haven’t said it yet, but GOD ALL THOSE SHOTS ARE *chef kiss*.

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“I know we said we'd see each other. / I know we accorded a meeting.” when the old date appears, come on… Stop being so amazing would you? Plus, the fact that she starts talking when the dates appear is just the kind of small details in the editing that I love.

--

Okay… We’re back here. I first wanted to compare the two trailers, but it seems that they removed the old one… so, let’s use my messy memory.

Amira is confident, looking straight to the camera, even a small (really small) smile/smirk, but the chin still a little down, so… I have mixed feelings about this shot (confident but not THAT much).

Anyway, I think they just wanted to connect the two trailers. Btw I think that anyway we were supposed to have a second trailer since we have the same shot? In the first trailer Amira is strong and confident about her beliefs and she’s even “angry” at all the comments she receives, but as we’ll see, in this trailer, she seems pretty lost.

--

Second row of extracts:

Lucas spilling his drink on Amira… I don’t know what it could mean, but since we kind of “know” what will happen, I would say that it’s another way to show the “I don’t know if I feel that accepted/comfortable in my group of friends anymore.”

Okay, THIS, this is brilliant. (Plus, I guess this is our Spanish Yousef? Ok, OK, he’s cute.)

Both boys in the same side of the shot with Amira’s back and both looking at her with heart-eyes and with a more than cute smile; well, it’s just brilliant to introduce them that way.

AND AGAIN, the shots are showed as parallels/opposition.

(I don’t know if this shot is an extend of the shot with Dani just before, because in a way, I think it could fit, I really don’t know. All I can say is that she’s opening the door at someone she doesn’t want to see.)

I think that all the quick extracts are in Amira’s head (the Amira who’s looking at us in the trailer). Because after seeing the boys, we have again Amira alone and, in her room, kind of thinking about all of this and even praying. I think that it’s a way to show us, the kind of guidance that her religion is for Amira; when she doubts, she turns toward it. I LOVE THAT. They’re showing us so many things.

--

“Sorry I stood you up / I'm sorry for not showing up.” when this face appears. Damn, she seems so lost, confused and scared… The mouth is falling, she doesn’t look at us anymore, the frown and her eyes… phew… I’m not ready to see her suffer…

If I keep my theory that this Amira is reacting to her own thoughts (the extracts), it clearly shows that the boys are confusing her, like, A LOT.

(Oh, and maybe if we try to fit the sentence with the shots, maybe she stood up one or the two boys?)

--

Third row of extracts:

I don’t know how to interpret this shot, but DAMN IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL. (Maybe it’s the Koran? So the symbolism of the religion is back)

Some Amiris content. I’m here for that, like, I’M HERE FOR THAT. Just a quick thought though. It’s like Amira is cheering up Cris (I’m not ready to see her also suffer).

Um… Is it from the same scene? Are we really gonna have a friendship between Amira and Alejandro? Damn Skam España, I’m not ready for that. Btw, I have nothing to say because it’s clear that they’re smiling and happy (Just, Alejandro with teary eyes, that’s cute).

A Mosque with a wonderful shot again, wow… We still have the really important place of religion in Amira’s life, and the fact that it shows up after some moments with her friends, and maybe her role of “advisor”? I like that.

And then we’re back at something “dark” and “negative” feelings. It seems that she’s doubting, scared? Just look at her eyes… (small parallel to s2 and Cris in the car)

Is it a symbolism that shows that even if there’s her friends and religion, she’s still troubled? Confused?

--

The more we progress in the trailer, the more we see Amira in distress… It’s so at the opposite from the first one when she was strong against all the comments. Here, all those thoughts are really invasive and are confusing her so much. Her eyes were closed and now she even covers them, she can’t hold all this pressure anymore.

--

Fourth row of quick extracts, which is clearly shorter than the others:

Okay, these three shots clearly need to be analyzed with each other. It’s kind of a mirror. We have Amiris, we have Amira-Cris-and the girl from the beginning (I guess?) and then we have Amira and again this girl (I’m really not sure).

The first picture, we have an Amiris hug but… it’s like Amira doesn’t want it? So maybe a not that positive moment?

The second picture, it seems like Amira is in the middle of a conversation between the new character and Cris. And again, it doesn’t seem like a “good moment” you know? Amira is like “My goodness what am I doing here? I don’t want to be here. Send help.” (pinched lips, raised eyebrows and a little too opened eye.) The new character is like “Sorry but, it doesn’t work like that” and Cris is like “Oh… I really don’t know what to say right now…” (not sad, but… lost?). It’s not an argument, but it’s not a calm nor joyous, nor friendly conversation you see?

The last shot is with the new character (I guess) taking pictures of Amira in an AMAZING place what the? I LOVE THAT.

What I’m trying to say with all of this is that in the first picture Amira doesn’t feel good with Cris, then we have kind of a ““conflict””, the moment when the two worlds collide, and then we have a positive (?) moment with the new character, but not Cris. Meaning that Amira is starting maybe to choose one of her two worlds? THIS IS SO INTERESTING AAAAAHHH.

--

Still a completely confused Amira here. She’s still talking while the extracts stop, maybe meaning that she’s completely overwhelmed.

--

Fifth row of extracts:

These two shots follow each other and we have a clearly happy Amira with Spanish Yousef.

We ALSO have a clearly happy Amira with Dani, which is YES a parallel with the two shots from before (interesting, Dani always shows up after the other boy).

“I needed time to process everything that's happened. / I needed time to process everything that has happened to me.” stops here.

“I needed time” was present while we had Cris and the other girl on screen. She needed time with her friends (most important friend) “to process what happened” with the two boys? With 6 pictures and a well-placed sentence, the producers show us one of the most important plot (I guess) of the season (a freaking love triangle, aaaaaaah).

A confused and clearly overwhelmed Amira here… As I said, the more we go through the trailer, the more we see a completely lost Amira.

Those are clearly judging eyes my girls (or at least, not understanding eyes? angry? disappointed?). Maybe it’s showing the fact that the girls are not going to help her? Are going to left her? (there’s not Cris here btw, good sign? I hope.)

And here the distress at its highest point… Teary eyes, her mother (I guess) holding her, since most of the time it’s Amira who’s holding and supportive everyone, it’s… har to watch (I’m going to cry so much with this season I’m not ready). An opposition? The girls are leaving, but her family is here for her?

--

To reinforce my theory that this Amira is thinking about the extracts is her looking to the right, it’s the sign of someone trying to remember or I don’t know, thinking about something.

--

Sixth row of quick extracts:

Amira’s reaction to Ruben coming to kiss her cheek is the entire fandom when a clip with him will show up. No but more seriously, I can’t wait to see this scene (and everything that his presence implies for Crisana/Croana, because, come on, why would they make him come back then?)

I AM NOT READY TO SEE THIS WONDERFUL WOMAN SUFFER.

This shot is beautiful… And I think it’s Amira and Dani up there. (I think it’s from the same clip than a another shot with Dani a little higher, in the fourth row of extracts.)

Again, these two shots are mirroring each other. Amira is talking with both boys and to be honest, I think that’s great, communication. (And come one… a talk on swings? Aaaaaaaah) Something I just noticed, for the first picture, it’s like Amira doesn’t want to talk with Spanish Yousef and he seems a little disappointed? (it’s like his smile/mouth is falling.)

--

I don’t have a lot to say here. Juts the fact that she’s silent and just remembering/thinking? about everything that happened.

--

Seventh and last row of quick extract:

It’s the first time we see Dani without a parallel with Spanish Yousef. And COME ON, the CLOSENESS. It’s clearly here to show the “tension”, the attraction between these two (even if clearly I think that everyone already noticed it).

Again, it’s an Amiris scene but… there’s this kind of tension here? Like none of them seems joyous or cheerful. Amira doesn’t smile, her face is closed, we could even say that she’s lost (and not sad but kind of? Maybe even annoyed?), while Cris has the “I don’t know what to do/say” face.

NOPE- NOPE. Take it back, I’m not seeing her suffer again. NO WAY.

More seriously, this scene seems so… powerful? It’s like the camera his turning around her, or at least, the camera is clearly moving and um… she’s alone in the shot? I don’t like what’s happening. The mouth is falling, the eyebrows are down, the eyes are teary, I think you all understand it, she’s worried, maybe even lost. I don’t see anger though; it’s just pure worry and I have this feeling that she’s ready to burst into tears? (I don’t know why, just a feeling I’ve got, deep down).

Plus, the fact that Joana is shown just after a shot with Cris? I don’t like it (I already said that no?). And also, not all the characters are shown in the trailer (the boys), is it meaning that she’ll have something important to do in the season? We’ll see guys, but I really can’t wait discover her storyline.

Dani and Amira, again. I think it’s from the same clip with Ruben and MAYBE the party with Lucas spilling his drinks.

Okay… I’m not confused, but almost. This parallel is… strange. We see Dani at the party, we see Spanish Yousef (btw I think it’s also coming from a scene we already saw some shots before) and now we have Dani again, but this time we see AMIRA (and omg this shot is so beautiful with her bringing her hand near Dani’s cheek).

I really don’t know how to interpret that because it seems like Dani is taking more space than Spanish Yousef in this sequence of extracts, especially with the fact that we see his back and Amira smiling at him, AND ESPECIALLY if I follow my thinking about being in her thoughts. Are they already telling us Amira’s choice? (I don’t think so, but, it’s interesting).

And then, AND THEN, we have THIS, and omg I love that. Nora with a supportive and understanding gaze, both girls holding hands, Amira being vulnerable and clearly lost… It’s… wow. Plus, the fact that the sequence of extracts stops with Amira confiding in a friend? (clearly showing that, even if all of this mess is happening around her, she will find someone to help or at least advise her) especially Nora? I love it, really. We all know the symbolism behind the Sana/Noora talk and if Skam Sspaña is really going to do THIS, I mean, it’s powerful.

--

The fact that she leaves the shot still confused shows us that there’s still a lot to come and that this trailer shows us nothing compared to what’s coming. I love that. Really.

And, “Should we meet up and I'll tell you about it? / What if we met and I tell you about it?" OOOOH, HELL YEAH, I’M HERE FOR THAT AMIRA!

More seriously, I like the fact that even if we have a clearly lost Amira in this trailer, the song closing the trailer says “I’m the boss”, showing that she’s going to be strong and that this season is gonna rock.

--

Soooo, what this trailer is telling us about season 4? SPOILER, it tells us A LOT of things.

We will have something with Amira not feeling accepted, or kind of having mixed feelings about the girl/boy squad; but she will also find new friends (aka the new girl character). Cris/Amiris will have an important role in this season since we saw her many times. We will see Amira’s life more in depth with her relation with religion, photography and we’ll also see her family (the hug with her mother). With Ruben and Joana’s worried face, I guess we’ll have to face some Crisana/Croana drama (wouhou). We will maybe also see Nora and her healing process after Miqhell (I really hope so). OF COURSE, we’ll see how Amira will deal with her feelings for two boys: Dani and Spanish Yousef (damn, if it’s not him, I think we’ll all be clowns).

And in a wider picture, we’ll see how a Muslim teenage girl is dealing with her emotions, her life problems, and her identity during ten WONDERFUL weeks.

--

Phew… It was long to write all of this. I surely missed A LOT of things, and a lot of ideas will come to me in the next two weeks (stay tune I might reblog and write some stuff), but it’s really something I wanted to write right now since this trailer is really amazing.

Plus, just something to conclude. The trailer is here to build the hype. Remember, they know that we know the storyline. They clearly can “““bait””” us, and try to make us see things that are completely different from the actual season. So, stay critical. But anyway, they did an amazing job with this trailer and I think we’re gonna have a wonderful last season for Eskam.

I hope you enjoyed reading me; have a nice day and try not to hyperventilate whenever new information about the season come. See you soon!

[bees128]

What Is Emperor Belos’s Plan for the Human World

So here’s my theory and I actually have some Evidence, particularly it’s based on three aspects of the show so far

1 A Major theme that applies heavily to all the antagonistic forces in the show is the weird and interesting being assimilated into something "normal" e.g. destroying the "chaos" of wild witches and brainwashing the children to act like "Proper Witches". 

2 As for Belos himself his character as far as I can tell he really does seem devoted to the titan? He follows the Titan’s will as he sees it. Also of lesser note is that with this most recent fight we have heavy connections between Belos and the manipulation of flesh.

3 The titan is still alive to a certain extent. It’s heart is still beating.

So how do you reconcile those 3 things together? Well something of note is that they’ve gone very hard into showing that the Human World is Weird to the people of the Boiling Isles. Gus has a fan club centered around them, Eda runs her business based on selling our junk as curios and oddities. Sure they exiled giraffes to our world in the past but with the exception of Eda bringing back Human Stuff it seems like No One has access to the human world (or at least no one we’ve met). So we have the human world is wierd and if we fit it into that theme up there Belos must want to assimilate the human world somehow. The question is how? Most people are going with the idea that “Belos wants to bring/force magic into the human world” and not gonna lie I could see that. Alot of the show is based around the destruction and assimilation of religions by Christianity/Catholicism and forcing magic as his “religion” upon a foreign land that none on the boiling isles except Eda, (and now lillith and King) have seen in living memory? A perfect allegory for missionaries spreading catholicism in North America. However, PERSONALLY I have 2 contentions with this. 1 is that Luz while not happy with Belos’s way would Absolutely be Down for magic to spread to the real world. B. Quite Frankly it doesn’t seem climactic enough for me as a BBEG Plan. Think to other cartoons like Gravity falls and SPoP with Wierdmageddon and the Heart of Etheria. I contest that Belos’s plan is going to be more concerted around some Major Event he’s going to try to bring about. But what could this shows Central event be? Well, Let’s talk about the Titan.

Belos serves the “Titan’s will” he doesn’t prostrate himself before it or anything but it’s clear that at least as far as we can see that he considers it a force greater than himself and places great value in it. He built his fortress around the one part of the Titan that we can see is visibly alive, he’s built machinery into the titans flesh (to help preserve/keep it alive?) which stretches throughout the entire fortress. He’s consolidating power through the covens system in the name of the titan. Quite frankly it’s almost like he’s trying to assimilate his castle and through the emporers coven, the strongest sources of magic he can get on the isles, into the Titan.

I Wonder what Else he might Try to Assimilate Into the Titan...

Ok so I won’t beat around the bush anymore. I think Belos is going to try to use the human world in some fashion, to essentially revive the Titan and I feel like theres so many reasons why this works. Narratively theres a couple good reasons, it shows how destructive and harmful the assimilation of religion and culture is in the real world, it’s a plan worthy of of a BBEG centered around a concrete goal that the heroes can have clear objectives on how to stop. It puts Luz in direct personally driven conflict with Belos’s ambitions because instead of bringing magic to the human world, he’s harming the human world in order to achieve a goal that literally no character in the show other than a Titan Obsessed Madman would want, likely in one way or another it will show Camilla in direct danger too which further compounds Luz having to oppose Belos. It fits Belos’s character down to his abilities I mean the man moves flesh so its not too far of a stretch to imagine his plan involves flesh too or that what with his obsession with the titan that his plan might involve the titan. As well as the human world the Boiling Isles is entirely inside of the carcass of the titan so what do you thinks going to happen to Everyone and Everything on the boiling isles if the flesh of the titan starts to grow back? That’s Right guys gals and NB pals ASSIMILATION. (im thinking of that billy and mandy meme where billy from I think the Movie? where a robot billy just keeps yelling ASSIMILATE. ASSIMILATE. ASSIMILATE.) So now Luz now has precedent to not only save the human world, but also demon world as she knows and loves it. Also it answers a question that the audience has had since we first saw the carcass which is what did it look like when it was alive? It gives Belos a motivation on why he suppresses wild witches because they understandably, would be the first to step up to stop his plan, and conversely the more he has people under the coven system the less likely they are to rebel when he tries to consume them all in his grand plan. *cough Cough allegory for capitalism too cough

Belos will have Unity, at any cost.

So we have the What of the Plan and the Why, but all that’s left is the How? Well at this point i’ve kinda run out of compelling evidence so instead of halfbaked theories this here is now in Wild Speculation Territory. The only thing thats certain is that if this theory is true something he’s missing for the revival of the Titan is in the Human World. So i’ve got a couple ideas and im just gonna lightning round them

1 Theres been multiple insinuations that the Boiling Isles isn’t the Only Titan, presumably if there is another in some shape or form it’s somehow in the Human World. Maybe there’s some Key Item from this Titan that Belos Needs to revive the Boiling Isles Titan (im gonna call it the BI titan) what could that key item be?

1a A item to supercharge his Magic for Magic Reasons(tm) so he can revive the titan

1b A Item to make the Titan able to receive Whatever Belos would use from the human world to fill in its flesh (ala anti rejection drugs when it comes to a organ transplant)

1c He has what he needs to Revive the Titan but to take what he needs from the Human World he needs a big portal like a BIG one. And the thing he needs to make a portal of that size (or potentially reopen since because of giraffes we know there was Some Way to the human world that probably wasnt the door unless they like, used shrinking magic on the entire Boiling Isles Giraffe Population, brought them through the door, then unshrunk them all) is inconveniently in the Human World

2 Same as all of 1 except instead of another titan its just something thats there

3 same as 2 except that its a Someone (Camilla?) for Some Reason

4 He thinks what he needs is in the human world but it’s actually in the demon world and Belos is just Blind

5 He has what he needs and instead of needing a really big portal the door is enough, he just needs to fix it and start assimilating

Beyond those I have some more wild Speculation on how they’re gonna deal with the Titan

1. They either destroy Belos or force him into a change of heart somehow

2. They FMA:B this and do a Massive Glyph thats at least as big as his fortress if not Larger to stop belos (likely not murder, maybe through a “trap you in a false world where everything went right for you” or something like that)

3. Luz is the one that gives Magic to the Human world either from the BI Titan or the hypotetical Human World one and the glorious revolution of the people overthrows the tyrants

4. What either Belos or Luz or both be going after is King’s Crown. If Belos doesnt need the crown Luz would and gives it to King and then King and the Titan do a Kaiju Big Battle.

5. They pull a SPoP and its literally the magic of Gay is Too Strong and Saves the Day and they date and kiss and everything is good

The End

[nottskyler]

Politics and the Church: Hatred Online

Not so long ago, there was a major scandal about Russians interfering with the 2016 US Presidential elections. A lot of concern and care was taken by most of the social media platforms to recognize and remove the accounts immediately. The only one who didn’t was reddit, who acknowledged the accounts, suspended them, but kept the data up for a while so that people could look into and see what the accounts looked like so that we can learn how to avoid them in the future.

Myself, like many others, assumed the Russians sponsored their favorite candidate for the office and worked to manipulate thoughts and opinions to support that candidate. But no, they put their time and money into dividing us. The data shows that they had accounts in both political camps and put their energy into getting us to hate each other. 

Exposure of the Russian bots and trolls did nothing more but fan the flame they started. The Russian bots won this round. So much so that I knew this post would be utterly ignored if I didn’t wait to post it until after everyone who was going to vote had their chance to vote. It was so clear that we lost to the Russian bots months ago that there was no point in calling for equality because the hatred was already too deep.

Everyone has voted and the intense feelings you have that your brand of politician has to win needs to settle down so to not make it any harder to accept whoever wins the election. Peaceful transfer or non-transfer of power is essential for the democratic process. Part of this cool-down process should involve realizing where we let propaganda get to us and where we left our religion at the door when we should’ve kept it with us.

This politics and the Church series is one that likely was inspired by a video from Smarter Every Day that I watched back in March. This post most definitely is influenced by it because I watched his entire series on social media manipulation before writing this post, but I think what he has to say is really important. What is this amazing message that he has to share? We need to treat each other with Christ-like charity and love and stop promoting and supporting content that splits us up into “us” and “them”. We also need to participate in political discourse with political grace, a term for discussing ideas and viewpoints and not name calling or insinuating that your opponent is either dumb or incompetent.

Russian bots have changed us. They have turned our friends into our enemies. If we keep this up, we will fall into a state of constant social unrest if not civil war, making us open targets for other countries our hate groups to take power and destroy us. Both Democratic and Republican parties have turned into hate groups, hate groups for the opposing political party. It’s time to step away from worshipping and defending political parties and focus on working together to solve issues we all believe in.

The biggest key to unity is to find common beliefs and common ground. Everyone wants to be free. Everyone wants to live in a safe environment with their loved ones. Everyone wants to feel like a contributing member of a community, preferably in a dignified way that permits them to put food on their table and a roof over their head. Everyone wants to believe their religion (even if it doesn’t involve a Gd or involves many) and practice it. Everyone wants to be healthy and to prosper. 

Politics is meant to be the way we manage these sometimes conflicting desires, but it has turned into a battlefield of proving that one set of goals and desires is better than another. We need to return to that belief and have functional discussions about how to solve issues where people aren’t accomplishing those goals. Diversity in opinion, be it liberal or conservative or anything in between, is the only way to find real solutions to these problems. We all are feeling our own part of the elephant and have important things to contribute to the solution. Any solution that doesn’t consider other perspectives is doomed to fail its purpose.

Let’s work on defeating the Russian bots and other political manipulators who want us to fall into chaos by fighting each other. Let’s try to be more united and loving in our conversations with our fellow humans. It won’t be easy because controversial posts are what trend and earn money, but the peace we can build on earth will be worth it.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

To Be Held Chapter 2 - Running Out

Here is chapter two! 

Chapter warnings: Description of kidnapping. Mention of torture. Homophobic ideology. Description of sexual assault.

Spencer was on his side sleeping when his phone rang with a piercing shrill. He rolled onto his back, and he extended his long arm out to reach the phone on the bedside table. He didn’t even look at the name when he answered, “Reid here.” When he heard the voice of Garcia he sat up, suddenly awake. “Hey genius. Sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep, but I got your girl. “Give me a second.” Spencer said while turning on the lamp above his bed. The light hurt his eyes. He grabbed his notepad and a pen and sat down cross legged on the mattress. “I’m ready.” “Well, Venus Rising’s other name is Levi Hill. She’s an English lecturer at...” Before Penelope could get the rest of her sentence out Spencer filled in the last few words with, “Washington State University.” The computer whiz laughed and responded with, “Bingo. She teaches Queer theory, a class on Milton, and early British literature.” Spencer jotted down the information, and asked, “How long has she been teaching in Washington?” “Three years. It looks like she moved here from Ohio after getting her masters degree at Notre Dame. She’s twenty three, and before you ask, she doesn’t have a big social media presence, so I can’t find that much more about her.” Spencer replied to this tide of information with, “You did a great job Garcia. With this information we have a connection between Mr. Pyne at the university and Ms. Grost at Fantasy Girls.” Spencer was always impressed by Penelope, and sometimes he was scared of her too. “Anything for a fellow friend with a superior intellect.” Garcia said, then continued by saying, “I’ve sent Ms. Hill’s profile from Washington State over to you, along with her LinkedIn, and just for a bonus, her dissertation. One last thing you might want to know, pretty boy, she’s got office hours at 1:00 tomorrow, office number 212.” Spencer checked his email and found the attachments. “Thanks again.” Spencer said. Garcia replied happily, “No problem, now it’s my time for my beauty sleep.” The line dropped, and Spencer ran his hand through his hair. The clock read 5:00 A.M. ‘At least I have a few hours to read over this material’ Spencer mused. He grabbed his glasses off the table. Got up and started making some of the lousy instant coffee. It was going to be a long day. 

The team entered the East precinct of the Seattle Police Department at 8:00 A.M. No one had really slept, which was usual in an active case. J.J. kindly handed Hotch, Gideon and Spencer a cup of coffee before pouring her own. As the coffee crew assembled around the milk and sugar. Gideon was adding a packet of sugar and stated, “This unsub feels very unstable to me, yet he’s methodical and calculated. It doesn’t make sense.” Hotch looked up from stirring the milk into his coffee and replied, “The unsub must be mission-oriented. We’re looking for someone that has a problem with religion or politics. He probably holds extreme beliefs.” The four members of the BAU moved into the room they had set up in and jumped into their assignments. Hotchner started by saying “I’m meeting Mr. and Mrs. Pyne at 10:00 A.M. today. Elle, will you come with me?” Elle nodded and said, “Of course.” Gideon then said, “I’m going down to the coroner's office to look at the death certificates of the victims, then I’ll go over to the forensic labs that ran the test on the orange fibers found at the scene. Spencer will join me. I might need your expertise at the lab.” “Actually I’m meeting a potential target that the unsub might have had contact with. Her name is Levi Hill. She’s a professor at Washington State, and an employee of Fantasy Girls.” The team looked  at him, surprised that he had found a connection between the two victims. Spencer continued, “I was hoping J.J. would go with me. I’ll go to the coroner’s office with you, but Ms. Hill’s office hours are at 1:00 P.M. and I plan on being on time.” Gideon chuckled that Spencer hadn’t just said he couldn’t go with him to the lab. But Jason also knew that Spencer didn’t like conflict and avoided it when possible. He smiled at the genius while saying, “Sounds like a plan.” J.J. finished the conversation by saying, “I’ve set up a press conference at 5:00 P.M. today. The media is getting restless and it would be best if we give them, and the police a profile by then.” The team grouped up and into their assignments and headed out to the cars. 

Mr. and Mrs. Pyne lived in a modest house on the edge of town. Hotchner and Elle were seated on a couch which faced another couch facing them, where the Pyne’s sat. Pictures were spread across the coffee table that showed Jefferson Pyne; the photos ranged from the smiling blond haired boy as a child to an adult version of the child standing outside of a dorm on the Washington State campus. “So, Mrs. Pyne, you said that Jefferson was doing well in school? Did you notice any changes in him in his sophomore year? Were there people who disliked your son?” Mrs. Pyne swallowed and wiped at a tear that fell down her face. Before she responded Mr. Pyne squeezed her hand reassuringly. She started by saying, “Jefferson excelled in school. He loved living in the dorms and meeting new people. During his freshman year he came out as gay.” Before Mrs. Pyne could continue, Hotchner interjected, “And how did you react to your son’s coming out?”  Mr. Pyne smiled a little and said, “We try to be very open in this household. We told our son when he was younger that he could love anyone he wanted when he grew up.” After Mr. Pyne finished answering the question his wife continued by saying, “I was so proud of him the day he told me that he was gay, so, so proud.” Mrs. Pyne then bent over with a sob. She tried to hold back her tears, but they flowed down her cheeks. Mr. Pyne held her close to him and continued answering the questions with, “In Jefferson’s sophomore year he moved back home and commuted to school everyday. He wanted to live in an apartment, but we were having some financial troubles and it would be much cheaper. Mr. Pyne stood, allowing his wife to sit and gather her emotions. He gestured for Elle and Hotch to follow him. The trio walked up the stairs to the second story of the house. Mr. Pyne opened the second door on the left and said, “This room was Jefferson’s. We haven’t moved much in here except for some of the photos you saw downstairs. We’ll be downstairs, take all the time you need.” Mr. Pyne stepped out of the room and walked down the stairs, and went back in the direction of Mrs. Pyne. 

The bedroom had a bed, desk and lamp. A pride flag adorned the wall next to a BYX banner. Hotch looked around the room and noticed the banner. “What fraternity is BYX? I haven’t heard of it before?” He looked to Elle. She was examining the book shelf that held a lot of college textbooks. She replied, “BYX stands for Brothers Under Christ. It’s a Christian fraternity that is known for their service to the community.” Elle didn’t know how much she believed in Christian fraternities or sororities, but she had a feeling about Jefferson. She told Hotch, “I don’t see anything suspicious about this kid. I suppose that he could be getting some backlash for coming out, but other than that, I don’t think he had enemies.” Hotch replied, “I agree. The parents don’t seem like likely suspects. Let’s go down and look at Jefferson’s laptop. If he was getting hate for being gay we might see it online.” The pair of agents stepped out of the room. Elle gingerly closed the door to Jefferson’s room and followed Aaron down the stairs into the living room. 

The coroner’s office was very cold inside. Spencer folded his arms over his chest. Conserving the heat between his arms, shirt and maroon vest, and his body. After a minute an older man walked toward them. The man extended a hand toward Jason and said, “I’m doctor Stanley. I examined the bodies and wrote the cause of death” Gideon retracted his hand and said, “My name is Agent Gideon, and this is Dr. Reid.” Dr. Stanley took the time to look at Reid with unbelief. Stanley even rolled his eyes until Jason asked, “Do you have the files on Mr. Pyne and Ms. Grost ready for us?” The older doctor said, “Follow me.” He turned on his heel and walked quickly down a white tiled hallway. Spencer and Gideon followed behind him. Stanley unlocked a room that held a metal table and chairs. On the table lay two files. Stanley said, “Here are the files, if you have any questions you can page me.” With that being said the coroner walked away. Reid couldn’t help but sarcastically say, “What a professional man.” Gideon replied, “Agreed.” In the same tone as Spencer. The two men sat down, each grabbing a file off the table. After fifteen minutes of silently reading Spencer found something odd in the report on Ms. Grost. “Gideon, it says in the report that we got at headquarters that she had been raped. In Dr. Stanley’s report he only states that “‘the body was bruised in the primary sexual organs. If she was raped, why wouldn’t he have written that?” Gideon looked at the page that Spencer had handed him and replied, “Let’s find out,” while punching the button to Dr. Stanley’s pager. 

Stanley walked reluctantly into the room with Spencer and Gideon. “Did you have a question?” the older man asked with condescension, looking at Spencer as he asked. Spencer looked back at the doctor unfazed and said, “I was wondering why in one report rape was explicitly stated, but in your analysis of the body you don’t?” Stanley cleared his throat and responded by saying, “The body hadn’t been penetrated by male genitalia. It was clear that an object was used. Under certain definitions that would not be considered rape.” Spencer looked a little sick at this information, and Gideon was angry. Jason stood, holding the page in his hand pushing it in front of the coroner. “You didn’t think it was important to tell us that the victim had been raped with an object instead of a dick.” Gideon breathed out harshly and turned to Spencer saying, “We have the information we need. Let’s go.” Jason’s tone calmed when he looked at Reid. Reid made him feel like a father again, and he couldn't let himself be mad around the younger agent. Spencer stood and neatly placed the folders on top of eachother on the table. As He and Gideon walked toward the door. Before Reid left the room he turned to Dr. Stanley and stated cooly, “I’ll be talking to your superior when this is over, about your apparent lack of empathy and understanding of medical terms dealing with trauma.” With that Spencer turned on his heel and left the cold room behind. As he and Gideon walked to the car Reid took a moment to close his eyes and feel the sun on his skin. The long night was getting to him. 

In an unknown location a cabin surrounded by trees came to life with a shrill cry. Inside a man was tied to a wooden table. His legs and arms were bound in the shape of the cross. A figure dangled a cross above the body of the man who was tied down. “God told me that I should give you the chance to repent. You claim to be a man of God, preaching his word to those people who will burn in hell. It’s heretical!” The tormented man breathed laboredly, and coughed up some blood. The man stammered out shakely, “God states that he loves all people. Therefore I practice giving love to all people .” The man standing over the preacher laughed grimily and responded to his captive comment by saying, “God said that there would be false teachers in the end times, what a blessing I’ve found one. Now repent, or I’ll send you to the pit.” The preacher couldn’t say anymore, he was in so much pain that his mind couldn’t put words together anymore. Before the pastor passed out from the exhaustion of his position, he thought, ‘Lord save me. Lord.” 

Gideon dropped Spencer off outside the main campus of Washington State University. Just as Spencer got to the student union he spotted J.J. standing outside the campus bookstore. When J.J. noticed him, she walked to him, and he asked, “How was it today in the station?” J.J. sighed at the memory and said, “The press had so many questions that are going to be answered in four hours if they were just patient. Instead I was forced to copy and paste the same response to fifteen different outlets.” Spencer had spotted the coffee shop above the bookstore and checked his watch, which read 12:25 P.M. “That does sound very boring. How would you feel about grabbing a coffee before going to office hours?” J.J. smiled at the idea and agreed. The two of them climbed the stairs. The date to the football game had made it clear that she and Spencer weren’t meant for eachother. But that didn’t invalidate their friendship. With coffees in hand the duo from the BAU found the English building and waited outside office 212. Spencer was leaning against the doorframe reading a basic philosophy book when he heard footsteps coming their way. He closed the book and stashed in his shoulder bag. The young women who walked toward her office didn’t look like what J.J. or Spencer had expected. “May I help you?” Professor Hill asked as she attempted to grab the keys to her office while holding a large box of blue exam books. Spencer pulled out his badge and said, “I’m Dr. Reid and this is agent Jareau. We’re from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. We have a few questions for you profesor Hill.” Ms. Hill looked surprised for a second, but she quickly replied with, “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Reid, and you agent Jareau. If you give me a second, we can go into my office. I’m happy to answer any questions you have.” Spencer quickly put his badge away and offered to hold the blue books. With the package out of her hands, Ms. Hill was able to grab her keys from her backpack and quickly unlocked the door to her office. She flipped on an office light and plugged in two lamps on each side of the desk, lastly she pulled a chair from one wall and placed it next to another chair at the desk. After she had finished all this she said, “Come in.” J.J. went in and took a seat, Spencer followed. He shut the door to the office with his foot, still holding the box of empty exam books. “I can take those now, thank you.” She took the box out of Spencer’s hands and placed it on an empty shelf of an overflowing bookcase. She sighed at the sight of the exams and then sat in the chair across from the agents, just as Spencer took his seat. 

With notepad and pen at the ready Spencer began the interview with, “How long have you been living in Seattle Professor Hill?” Ms. Hill replied, “I’ve been living here for three years now. I was offered an adjunct position at the university during my final semester at Notre Dame.” Next, J.J. asked, “When did you start working at Fantasy Girls?” At this question Hill’s eyes briefly glanced over to her Master’s degree hanging on the wall before she looked at J.J. and said, “My second semester of teaching at this university made me realize that I wasn’t going to pay off my student loans as a professor. Even with financial aid and scholarships my debt after school was more than I could pay off in twenty years with my current position. In December I got an advancement in the University and I signed up to work at Fantasy Girls.” Spencer nodded his head at hearing about needing to pay off debt. Although he was fortunate that his parents had paid for his education, he knew people that were consumed with debt for the rest of their lives, it destroyed them. Spencer continued the conversation by inquiring, “Were you friends with Sydney Grost, or was she just a colleague?” Hill smiled at the question and said, “I remember my first night hosting; I had a client that was very insistent that I go back to his apartment with him. Well Sydney walked over to him and said, “‘If you keep harassing her, I’ll go over to your apartment and break every window I see with a brick.’” Sydney was very protective of all the girls. She and I worked a lot of jobs together and we’d always get coffee at the end of the night. Sit and talk about what we were doing tomorrow. She was great.” As Hill finished the answer she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. It was clearly an attempt to stop herself from crying. Spencer looked away from the professor for a second too, not wanting to make her feel awkward. J.J. then asked kindly, “I know this is a sensitive question, but have you, Sydney, or any other women you work with gone back to a client’s apartment or house?” Ms. Hill ran her hand through her short hair. She took another breath and looked at J.J, and said, “The people I work with, they're like a family. We see each other at least three times a week. We see each other nude, or almost nude, and we complain about our lives. Whether or not some of the escorts have worked in that way I can’t say with certainty. We have to have some boundaries and that’s one of them.” She looked to J.J. to see if that was enough, “I’m sorry I have to ask this, but have you solicited sex after work?” J.J. did feel horrible having to ask a question like that. The blond agent knew that the work paid and therefore had to ask. Hill shook her head before answering, “No. I’ve never wanted to risk my position, not even for that much money.” J.J. nodded and jotted down the answer. Spencer placed his head on the side of his hand and tried to think of something he was forgetting. He thought for a moment, and then he it hit him, “‘social media.’” After realizing there was something strange about the professor’s media he quickly asked, “You don’t really have any social media. Is there someone you’re trying to avoid, or get away from?” Ms. Hill replied, “Being an escort isn’t really seen as a moral profession. If anyone found out what I do I’d lose my job, my friends in church and the opportunities I might have once I can move forward from here. The only person I’m trying to actively avoid is my father, but he lives in Florida, so I doubt he’s trying to find out where I am.” J.J. then said, “I think you’ve given us a lot of good information Professor Hill. I know you have class in twenty minutes. We’ll get out of your hair and let you get ready for that. Thank you so much for your time.” Ms. Hill smiled and wrote something down on a sticky note. As she handed the note to J.J. she said, “Here’s my cell number, email, and schedule for my other job. I hope you find the person who’s doing this, and stay safe.” When she finished saying this she stood and extended her hand to J.J. and Spencer. The FBI agents stood and Spencer opened the door for J.J. As the blond agent stepped out Spence pulled out his card and handed it to Hill and said, “If you see anything weird, or you feel unsafe, feel free to call me.” Ms. Hill smiled and said, “Thank you Dr. Reid.” 

Gideon had picked up the results from the orange fibers. They had from a basic rope and could be bought at any hardware store in town. Although that lead had been disappointing Jason hoped that once Reid had a loot at the retort he would have more input on the evidence. As he was leaving the lab he got a call from Chief Best. “Gideon here.” The leader of the BAU listened for a moment before quickly picking up the forensic evidence and ran out of the lab. As he slid the seat of his car Jason replied to the police chief by saying, “I’ll let the team know, and I’m headed to the house right now. 

The latest crime scene had new features that the others had not. Firstly, it was fresher than the other scenes. Secondly the victim had enemies in the community. James Reeve was a pastor and had been scrutinized by some of the other churches for teaching a doctrine of tolerance for some communities often marginalized by denominations of the Christian faith. As Morgan walked around the room he commented, “Reeve’s church is close to the Washington State Campus. It’s the central point to all of these cases.” Reid was confused by the new victim and said, “Why would the unsub take a college pastor? It doesn’t fit the profile. It’s likely the unsub is around the same age as Mr. Reeve. There seem to be a thousand directions this case could go.” Hotchern replied, “If the unsub is changing his targets every time he finds a new victim he could be trying to throw us off the trail. Or maybe he’s becoming more unstable. Afterall, this is the first time that he’s shown a sign of forced entry.” Gideon looked up from the door that had been forced open and said, “I’m certain that all of these victims are related in some way. The unsub is just getting bolder, braver with his abductions. I think that he’s making his final preparations for an important kill. We have to go back to the station and give a profile. Once the officers have it we need everyone looking for a person that meets the profile. We’re running out of time.”