#praying we misinterpreted the content of it

[ljbrary]

i’m on my schools newspaper and we just heard word yesterday that someone wants to write an opinion piece for the “anniversary of october 7” (as in. the way it was phrased was not like in mourning of it. they wanted to commemorate it. at least that’s how the room took it as) and the whole room just went. “holy shit wtf” and “oh no…” and the chief editor was like “i will be keeping a CLOSE CLOSE eye on that” and while it sucks that there are people at my school who decided to take that date and celebrate it (which has become the norm in higher education atp, and my school was not spared that), at least i know everyone working at the newspaper is sane and does not want to print something that celebrates a massacre, which sounds absolutely crazy to say that i have to be thankful for that

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters

Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.

*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove

Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.

"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."

Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.

"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."

Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.

"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."

Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.

"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"

Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.

"We need you... We need you..."

Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.

"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."

Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.

"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."

Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.

"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"

[necronomeconomicism]

My post blew up enough the zionist mafia has assembled to harass me, and I am

laughing my ass off

I know online harassment is a big issue for a lot of people, but me? I eat this shit up. I am a strange autistic little creature that genuinely finds how much I live rent free in their heads hilarious rather than frightening. That said, content warnings for harassment stuff because I know some people don't want to experience it, even vicariously from a safe distance.

Also just obligatory but also sound advice, don't go harass these people. It wasn't worth their time and it won't be worth yours either.

Here's my favorite bits

I am *flattered* people think studying history means you can get a job in the field, much less one that pays well. Even professors I know often have part time jobs on top of everything because the cost of living is so high here.

I take this as a major compliment. Makes me feel like some kind of diabolical Satanist type. Judaism doesn't normally have those but if we did they'd be just like me fr fr. When your hatred inevitably drives you to read this uh... *jewishlivesmatter* (pfft) know that, I understand exactly what the shema means. There is no misinterpretation. I defiled it specifically to spit on zionists like you. That's my recontextualization. You see, it mirrors what you mean when you pray, because we're using the words in bad faith. Just like your tumblr name.

:3

I don't regret the post, but it could have been better in this way it is true. I made it in less than an hour when I was very mad. The IDF had just gotten to the hospitals where they massacred the Palestinian patients and threw them in mass graves if i remember the night. This is why I pinned a reblog with a list of families to donate to. Goes to show, when you compare what sends antizionists into angry rants compared to zionists the difference is pretty damning.

Anyways, if you've gotten to this point know that I am re-enabling anonymous asks. Send me your worst so I can make fun of it, thanks you :)

[lasttree-garsennon]

So there was this old time king called Raja Drupad. (He was also the father of Draupadi!!!) He was growing old and yet he had no sons, so he was in constant stress of who will manage his kingdom after his death. He prayed to Lord Shiva for a child. Impressed by his dedication, Lord Shiva granted him a boon and he asked for a child. Shiva told him that in 9 months, a fierce daughter would be born in his house. Drupad retreated, saying, "No, Bhagwan, I want a son! I have no sons and a daughter would not be able to inherit my kingdom!"

To which Lord Shiva replied that his word was a God's word, and could not be taken back. However, he did promise Drupad that despite being born a girl, his daughter would become a son before his death so he can inherit his kingdom.

As the god had instructed, Drupad raised the daughter as a boy. Taught her the skills and knowledge they would teach to princes. Dressed her in princely attire for her entire adolescence.

When time came for her to marry, no one except the Raja and his wife knew that she was a girl. So they married her to the daughter of Hiranyaverma, the king of a nearby kingdom.

When the princess came to live with her in-laws in their kingdom, she was heartbroken to find that her husband was not a man. She wrote a letter to her father telling him about this. Enraged, her father sent back a letter informing the king that he was coming to take his daughter back from their web of lies.

Drupad was in visible distress. Shikhandi was ridden with guilt for being the cause of her father's suffering and set out into the night to kill herself.

But before she did, she met a strange man. Pardon me, i forgot the word, but he was non-human. The man listened to her worries and said, "I could give you my masculinity for a price. See, I am cursed that one day I would become a woman. I would have to spend my entire life as a woman, but if you take my masculinity for a few days, and give it back to me when you've proved to your in-laws that you're a man, I will have fulfilled my curse of being a woman and we would both be content!"

Shikhandi agreed and took his masculinity. I don't know how one can do that, but these are religious texts so anything is possible. He came back to the palace and proved to his in-laws that he was indeed a man. When they had taken the situation to be a mistake and went back to their nation, Shikhandi came back to that forest to give the man his masculinity back. But the man was nowhere to be found, no matter how long he searched.

So in the end, Shikhandi returned to his kingdom as a man and continued to live his life as one. When the war of Mahabharata took place, he fought on the Pandava's side. He was the one to defeat Pitamah Bheeshm, one of the most educated, skilled, fierce, yet kind, donating and tranquil of the warriors from the Kaurava's side.

I'm just!!!! Oh my god!!!!!!!!!!! I didn't know that I'd see that in the first lesson!!!!

Oh yes our history and religion is much more queer than people believe.

Most laws against queerness exist because people as usual misinterpret the texts

[wolint]

THE BIBLE!

THE BIBLE

2 Timothy 2:15

 

There are many Christians who don’t own a bible, they’ll rather read e-bibles or not at all. While some have decided it’s too much work to carry a bible around, preferring to use online bibles too and a minority of those who have, prefer easy, yet not necessarily good translations.

As much as it pains me to state this, the bible has been tampered with, updated, upgraded and modified to suit today’s society. Sadly, this means that there are a lot of things that are contrary to God’s original word, message and instructions to humanity.

Essentially, some bibles are now “woke”!

This is why we must study the bible diligently, intentionally and applicably.

To deepen our understanding of Scripture involves a combination of study, prayer, and practice. Studying the Bible is a rewarding and enriching experience, but we must pray for Understanding: Before beginning our Bible study, for Spiritual guidance in understanding the Scriptures.

Regularly reading the bible and making it a routine creates consistency, a key to deepening our understanding.

It’s important to consider the historical and cultural context of the passages we’re reading. Without this context, it’s easy to misinterpret the meaning and read out of context.

Do not skip! Skipping Around: While it’s fine to focus on specific books or passages, try not to skip around too much. Especially if you’re a beginner, no information is useless because understanding the Bible can help us see the bigger picture.

And there’ no point rushing through the Bible. This is a complex book, and it takes time to understand its teachings. Don’t rush through your reading. Take the time to reflect on what you’ve read and pray into it.

Don’t be one of the people who ignore the Old Testament: Some people focus solely on the New Testament, but the Old Testament is equally important. It provides the foundation for the teachings in the New Testament.

Remember, studying the Bible is a journey. Be patient with yourself, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.

This is where bible commentaries come in. Bible commentaries can provide valuable insights into the historical and cultural context of the passages you’re reading.

Look for or buy into a good, sound and bible-content bible classes, or join a Bible Study Group: Discussing the Bible with others can offer new perspectives and deepen your understanding.

When reading and studying the bible, it’s important to look for God withing the scriptures and not us. As clearly stated in Jeremiah 29:13. The more you read and study, the closer you draw to God and the more He reveals Himself to you.

The more we read and study, the less we rely solely on others’ interpretations to understand and apply the bible: While Bible commentaries and study guides can be helpful, it’s important to form our own understanding of the Bible. Pray for wisdom and discernment as you read.

And learn to memorize scripture verses as this can help us internalize the teachings of the Bible and fight spiritual battles according to Ephesians 6:10-18.

Above all, apply the teachings of the Bible in your daily life. This can make the Scriptures more meaningful to you.

Use a Study Bible: A study Bible includes notes and explanations that can help clarify difficult passages.

Seek Guidance: Don’t hesitate to ask your pastor or a trusted spiritual mentor for guidance if you’re struggling with a particular passage or concept.

Not Applying What You Learn: The Bible is meant to be a guide for life, so, don’t read for the sake of reading. As you read, think about how the teachings apply to your own life.

Where and when possible, always meditate on the scripture. meditation is a powerful way to deepen our understanding of God’s Word and apply it to our lives.

Remember the bible is not just a book but a library giving us all topics and messages that helps us live right.

PRAYER: Lord, thank you for giving me the bible and the Holy Spirit as my instructor, help me to read and study to show myself approved of you in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

[shammah8]

How To Avoid Disputing 1. Be born again: It is only a person who is saved that can have control over his ?esh because disputing is part of the characteristics of the ?esh. John 3:3 KJV Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.Exhibit the fruit of the spirit: when the fruit of the spirit is seriously at work in the life of a Christian he will be patient and have self-control, he will not get annoyed easily no matter what people say. Galatians 5:22-23 KJV But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuf f ering, gentleness, goodness, faith, [23] Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

3. Try to be calm always: many ?nd this dif f i cult to do, maintaining calmness is something we must all learn to do. In the face of serious opposition we should not be moved but remain calm and gentle as a dove when talking. Matthew 11:29 KJV Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall ?nd rest unto your souls.

4. Learn to keep silent: silence is a very powerful tool for those who know how to use it. When you observe that disputing can arise, try to keep total silence, although you might be tempted to talk, don't fall into the temptation because silence can never be misunderstood or misinterpreted in such instances. Many women would have saved themselves of being beaten up by their husbands only if they had learned how to keep silent. Many men wouldn't have turned themselves into beast that beat their wives only if they have learned to maintain calmness. 1 Thessalonians 4:11 KJV And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you;

5. Put yourself in prayers always: pray always that the Lord should help you to do away with murmurs and disputes if you realize that you ?nd it hard to stop.

In conclusion, you can see the adverse ef f ects of murmuring and disputing you must try as much as possible to see that you are not caught in the web, let your heart and your mouth, also ?flee from everything that would want to lead you 11into contention, disputing, strife and all other sins as saints who are preparing for the kingdom of God.🤝

[samsvenn]

If you're still doing the songs for the boys, I listened to L'assasymphonie and it reminded me of Laito, it's a French song and I loved it

𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 [𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐]

i listened to it and brought up the english translation and it sounds very much like Laito that I was shocked! i had another suggestion for what his song could be but here's the link for anyone interested <33

YOUTUBE LINK

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰 - 𝐀𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

We all know that Ayato loves himself because he’s never had anyone to love him the way he did. People forget that narcissist are made, not born (future analyzation post [?]) and this song’s lyrics fit him perfectly. 

If you don’t pay attention to the lyrics, it sounds like a bedroom song or even a low-beat hype song to one’s self, similar to Marvin’s Room by Drake. This song can be easily misinterpreted, just like Ayato himself.

“Well you had me fooled, told me that I was nothing without you.” 

“I’ve found a strength I’ve never known I’ve been thrown out.”

A song to fantasize about him, definitely. But intimacy can sweep many things under the rug, including this man’s need to prove to everyone that he’s better in every way. What’s there left to scrutinize when you’ve burnt every remaining bridge to forget the past and let it burn down till the winds carry it to the abyss?

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨

My favorite song not only because it’s the best song to come out in 2020, but there’s so much food imagery and hidden poetic erotisism interwoven in the lyrics, yet it remains refined and dignified - never once presenting itself as perverse but rather a tempting lure; like a certain purple-haired triplet.

“The cherries in your mouth spill stars. Scarlet venom to keep in jam jars. We all build worlds with joined up scars, but your constellation has stained my guitar.” Look closely: when we think of Kanato as a character, we know that attraction is both a blessing and a curse; he wants to be loved, but being loved is too overbearing.

Which is why he wants TO love, but people scream in agony when they’re on the receiving end of said love. When we think of Kanato as a person, this all changes. 

“And the French in your mouth breaks ribs. Makes heads go light and hands lose their grip. Pulling teeth behind a bottom lip, to look for cherry stones and rotting apple pips.” Looking for love is better than experiencing love. You can control your search - the severity, the occurrence, everything. But experiencing love itself? So unpredictable - you can’t control the amount you think about the person nor how often they’re in your head, the pain of not being acknowledged enough or being exposed too much for comfort, so many variables, so many factors that could go wrong.

But is there beauty in all of this? The song’s certainly beautiful and the contents equally; there’s a vivid scene in what the lyrics present themselves and what they present as a whole of the song. 

“Don’t leave me alone, drink up the tears I cry.” This song fools you into a wonderland of comfort with its upbeat, bossa nova appearance. However, the lyrics allude to something more, a hunger that can only be seen once you look close enough. 

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨

Honestly, this song to me is how Laito’s seduction feels; smooth, sultry, full of tempting promises if only you were his. It sounds downright manipulative, putting you into a trance from the honesty and the low rasp. 

Laito’s manipulation differs in degrees of want and desire. But this? Downright blissful. The lyrics state the uncontrollable fire to want someone ‘till bodies melt and join as one, a messy amalgamation of a feeling that’s neither love nor lust, but pure want.

“Our souls are intertwined in bliss and ecstasy.”

A song fitting for Laito because it’s a song that blurs all lines of whether the lyrics are formed from love or lust. Is it even those two things? Does such an emotion need a name? Can the word ‘Want’ be a good enough vessel to justify the actions brought by the lyrics? Confusion’s only sprung left and right, but it’s too addicting to even matter. 

[yourwildsimp]

Typically

This makes many references to No Regrets (an insight on Levi before he enrolled in the Scouts.) I also tried a new writing style, so please, give me feedback!

includes: Erwin, Levi

warnings: alcoholic themes, depression, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions

length: 2,028 words

•°•°•°•

Erwin Smith was typically content in his mattress by 10:30, praying to whatever gods that may (or may not) be out there that his slumber would be blissful and refreshing. He typically knew of his subordinates' locations and their relative mental states this late into any given night. He typically had most of his paperwork signed and stacked into a neat, organized pile.

Though tonight, as trepidation rolled over him in slow, progressing waves, Erwin Smith was neither content nor situated in a well-put-together office. He did not know where the Captain was or when the elusive man would return. He did not know beforehand that multiple contracts would need the Captain's signature. Hell, Erwin did not know if Levi could even write in cursive. At the moment, he did not know a lot of things.

Erwin wasn't exactly enthusiastic about experiencing these feelings of troubling uncertainty.

The dense thud of staggering boots on the half-rotted wooden flooring impeded Erwin's vexing thoughts. Moving from his spot by the window that overlooked the training grounds, he hastily stalked towards his office door. Yet as his fingertips were mere inches from the handle, the door slammed open, catching the Commander off guard.

Erwin back-stepped as no one other than Levi himself lost his footing from kicking the door open. The door frame was the only thing that aided Levi's attempt at steadying his balance; Erwin was far too focused on darting his bewildered eyes over Levi's condition.

Was the blunt and foul-mouthed Levi Ackerman. . . Drunk?

No, that couldn't be right. The man despised everything about alcohol: the lasting effects, the heavy smell, the noxious health problems. Every time the Corps tried to get Levi to drink, he had remarked about booze being nothing more than poison marketed as a miracle tonic. But, what else could explain the unfocused eyes that were typically sharp and observant or the swaying small frame that was typically nimble and composed?

"Have you been drinking, Levi? You look terrible."

The vicious scowl Erwin received told him that the way he worded his concern was extremely misinterpreted.

"Oh, fuck you, jackass. Not everyone can look like a shining star, Smith." Levi's words were unnaturally slurred, further proving what Erwin refused to accept. "Get outta my way and let me in."

Erwin cautiously stepped to the side- as he'd rather keep this peculiar sight to himself and spare the Captain's dignity. Levi's shoulder shoved against Erwin's bicep as he stumbled into the Commander's office. A snarl remarking Erwin's height was woven into the tense atmosphere of the room.

"Where have you been?" Erwin asked as he gently shut the door, keeping an apprehensive gaze on Levi.

He simply received a distracted scoff. Erwin took a deep breath before he huffed out of his nose. He watched as Levi fumbled through various unlocked drawers in search of who-knows-what.

"Levi-"

"Where's your Devil's water, Smith?" Erwin narrowed his eyes in confusion before Levi, belligerently, elaborated. "Your liquor, dip-shit. Where have you stashed it?"

Erwin pressed his lips into a thin line before he offered a calculated answer, "I don't hide alcohol in my office." A spiteful string of obscenities left Levi's swollen lips, the drunk balling his fist tight by his sides. "Liar! You're a filthy deceiver, you know that? You're worth less than the shit in the stables! A sleaze bag from the Underground would be more helpful than you!"

Erwin paused, studying Levi like Hange would study a Titan. "Are you okay, Levi?" He knew the question was redundant the moment the words left his lips.

“Fuck!” Levi yelled, tugging on his already loose cravat. “Am I okay? What kind of bullshit question is that? Hell, my uncle used to tell me that life’s like a toilet paper roll; you’re either on a roll or taking shit from some asshole- and you know what? You’re that asshole, Smith!”

"Be careful of the open window, Levi," Erwin warned, as polished and unwavering as ever. His indifference to the slew of insults and profanities made Levi's blood boil.

Erwin only moved closer when the Captain disregarded his warning and continued to near the dangerously open casement. Erwin tuned out the vulgarities that were continuously hurled at him with an intense enmity, the gears clicking together in his head.

There was a chance Levi's destination was through the window- a chance Erwin was not willing to take.

"What are you doing? You're going to fall out," Erwin said more forcefully.

The change in the Commander's tone didn't seem to phase Levi, who was resting his forearms on the window sill. As Levi's weight shifted to his unstable upper body, Erwin could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat, temples, fingertips- everywhere except his chest.

Levi went quiet, his drunken tantrum utterly forgotten as childlike wonder filled his eyes. In the moment of calm after the storm, Erwin couldn't fail to notice that Levi looked so much younger when he wasn't so pent up. The Captain was significantly more demonstrative when he was intoxicated; and may it be good or bad, Erwin was content with Levi seeming mortal.

"He used to hate heights, and she smoked him for it," Levi broke the moment of silence with hardly a whisper. "It was all a game to her."

Erwin's features, which were glazed over with faux insouciant, didn't match the curious gaze he studied Levi with. He stood inert, fearful of scaring Levi into a diligent silence or another aggressive episode. Erwin didn't ask for extensive details, nor did he implore Levi to move away from the window again. He simply waited, having an idea of what was plaguing his inebriated soldier's mind.

"You know, when you found me, we were heading to get a job done," Levi spoke so softly that Erwin felt the need to hold his breath to hear him properly.

The Commander took Levi's brief pause as an opening to speak, despite having nothing to say. "Is that so?"

Levi exhaled something grim; something that nearly sounded like an empty chuckle. "Yeah, Smith, it is."

Levi ignored how Erwin wearily moved closer as he adjusted himself further out of the window. The Captain relished in a twisted feeling of pride knowing that he could make his superior jump to aid him, that he could make the man twitch with such a deep sense of uneasiness- so much so that it shone in his perceptive blue eyes.

"Levi, get away from-"

"He was so nervous for the mission, despite it being so. . . " Levi swayed his hand through the night air, searching for the right word after cutting Erwin, and his concerns, off. "So pointless," is what he settled for.

"It was just a run-through," he huffed out a sigh, "check the brothel for any kids, start trouble if there were. Then, haul ass to the surface to get the brats to somewhere safer. Simple, right?"

Erwin swallowed, his gaze settling on Levi's reflection in the mirror.

"But, something always has to fuck me over," Levi spat with a clenched jaw, capturing the window sill in an iron grip. "Isn't that right?! You simply adore dancing all of your puppets around until they can't take it anymore- but you don't stop, do you?!" Levi screamed at the full moon in the sky.

Erwin sharply exhaled through his nose, Levi swaying side to side like empty ODM gear in the breeze. Levi swore and stretched his fingers out to relieve the tension in them.

"I bumped into a guy whose ego was as big as his body. The bastard was huge and wouldn't let it go." Levi hung his head, the stars bringing back memories he'd rather forget. "I think you were there when we had settled the issue and took off."

Erwin remembers like it happened yesterday. He could never forget the first time he saw Levi fly on the Wings of Revolution; it was enchanting.

Levi outstretched his arm, one foot leaving the floor as he reached to the giant moon glowing against the night sky.

"Levi, you need to stop being heedless, or you'll fall and end up dead!" Erwin finally snapped, his hand darting to grab Levi's. He missed his target, the shorter one moving unexpectedly and making Erwin snatch his pale forearm.

The wind from the chill night ruffled the forgotten paperwork on Erwin's desk, Levi's eerily hollow chuckle overlaying the white noise. Empty steel-gray finally looked into Erwin's ocean blues, heavy-lidded and worn thin.

"Don't you know I'm stupid? The hell does 'heedless' mean, blondie?" Levi wore a painful grin.

Erwin furrowed his brow in worry, loosening his grip but not letting go. "Careless," he said gently, thumbing fondly at Levi's flushed skin. "It means. . . Careless."

Levi's bottom lip trembled, and Erwin swore he saw his small body twitch with a hiccup. "Maybe that's what I want, Commander- to end up dead," Levi breathed, sending a cold surge through Erwin.

"Hey, don't say that," Erwin said quickly in a hushed tone. His free hand gently cupped Levi's shoulder.

"Why not?" Levi's voice was so small. It scared Erwin. "Every time I shut my eyes at night, all I see is their faces, hear them call my name." Erwin could feel Levi trembling.

"I know, Levi. By the walls, I know how it feels to begin to go numb. How it is to lose everything close to you, and still need to press onwards," Erwin murmured.

"Oh, sure. You see the face of every comrade that you've sent to death in your dreams. I'm sure you remember each and every soldier." The sarcastic bite in Levi's tone made Erwin unhand the man's arm.

"Excuse me. . ?" Erwin breathed, stupidly hoping he had misheard Levi.

"You don't know how it feels to be looked at like a human shit stain for simply trying to survive! You're just Mr. Fucking Perfect, right?" Levi's fruitless attempt to push Erwin away by his chest only agitated the blonde.

"Another pompous asshole that wouldn't hesitate to judge me from getting on all fours back then just to be able to eat twice a week!" Levi's (false) accusations were making Erwin increasingly angry.

"You're no different than everyone in the Capital-"

"You'd better watch your mouth, Ackerman."

Levi sucked in a short breath so quickly, it made his throat dry up; though, that might've been caused by the snarl of his surname. He didn't get another chance to speak as Erwin loomed over his frame.

"Who gave you an escape route when you had nowhere else to turn? Was it the Capital? Who was it that believed in you when everyone else wanted you to hang? The Capital, perhaps? Apologies, my memory is hazy."

Levi had seen Erwin agitated, seen him berate cadets and superiors alike with no backlash. But the man was always so poised and assured. Sure, the unsettlingly strong fire behind his crystal eyes was never smothered, but it was not once openly expressed.

Until now.

It had Levi- the nephew of Kenny the Ripper, the Captain of the 104th Cadet Corp, Humanity's Strongest Soldier- intimidated enough to shrink in on himself.

"I don't mean to scare you, Levi. I truly don't. But when you have the audacity to lump me into the crowd of discriminatory pedophiles and rapists? After everything I have done for you?" Erwin scoffed, ending his rant.

"I-I... I'm-"

"I don't want you to apologize. It's difficult to believe that you would. It's just not like you," Erwin swallowed thickly as Levi sniffled.

"Levi, I-" Erwin cut himself off, clenching his jaw.

Want you. Need you.

I think I'm in love with you. What a dream it would be to say. But he shouldn't. And he won't.

"You should sober up here while I get work done. How does that sound?" Erwin felt the urge to vomit after those words burned off his tongue.

"Thank you," Levi hardly whispered. "Thank you, Erwin."

Closing his eyes tightly, Erwin nodded, leading Levi to the couch the was sitting against the sidewall.

"Of course, Levi. I would do anything for you."

[nightswithkookmin]

JIKOOK DYNAMICS: JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

PREFACE

In my previous post, I shared my thoughts on what I think is Jikook's love language, specifically Jungkook's; and how in my estimation Jimin is the only member within BTS that speaks it, comes close to speaking it and most importantly makes the effort to speak it.

In this post, I attempt to outline what I think is Jimin's love language and show the various ways I feel JK speaks it or comes close to speaking it more so than the others in BTS.

Now I have to state for the record that I do not know or purport to know Jimin or Jungkook or any of these members herein mentioned in any way special and personal other than through the content we all consume on them.

Nor do I intend to be malicious or disrespectful towards them with this post, to intend to strip away their individuality for the sake of shipping symmetry.

Thus, I reiterate, everything I express in here is my thoughts, my observations and my opinion and I pray you treat it as such.

Let the records show, also that, I will bug spray any fake woke wannabe edgy shipper with a Tuktukker complex that takes my words out of context, misconstrue it to suit their own agenda and then turn around to call me out for it. In the name of Jesus, I will avada kedabra your ass. Seriously.

JIMIN

I've always been fascinated by Jimin. By the person he is. And although I do not have a comprehensive understanding of this man's inner workings, he's got to be the most complex and frankly interesting character I've come across in all my shipping years.

His duality is confusing and coupled with his Libra energy, his character and personality can be and is quite often misconstrued and misinterpreted within the shipping community.

He is friendly, cute, funny, beautiful and ship compatible with anyone.

Very often, I find, most people cannot tell his personality from his idol self slash persona or even his love language from his affectionate nature; thus resulting in these bizzare fallacies and ridiculous assumptions about him such as: he is a flirt, hoe, clingy, homewrecker, attention seeker and a plethora of slurs and sobriquet that's defamatory and slanderous at best- its ridiculous.

I get that not everyone likes him and as such wouldn't hesitate to filter his words and actions through arbitrary metrics to arrive at conclusions that profits them and does nothing but help them make sense of their hate- Y'all don't love yourselves enough.

Not to say he is my bias therefore he is perfect. That would be a blunder. He has his shortcomings, he is human after all. What I'm saying is most people don't get him and as such read him wrong?

What's more discombobulating, is the stan who swears up and down they know Jimin well enough but don't see him treating JK any different from the rest of the boys in BTS therefore Jikook isn't real- insert shook pikachu face.

Then there are those stans with genuine shipping concerns about the love dynamics between the two:

Those that feel JM gives more to JK than he receives back. That he is more supportive of JK than JK is of him. Very often, these people would bring up the issue of JK not promoting Promise when it first came out as evidence of this- it's been years let it go.

JK not being as vocal and open about his feelings and interest in JM the way Jimin is and has been about JK is also another area of concern for these stans. If you try to explain to them its because JK is/was shy they will kick- your- ass. Hell, I will kick your ass too. I'll explain later.

Some people also- I know I have at one point- have described JK's interest in and descriptions of JM as a bit shallow and vain compared to how the other members speak of Jimin.

To them, the other members usually talk about how smart and intelligent JM is, how kind and nurturing he is. How much of himself he gives to them. That the way the members talk about Jimin often helps give us a glimpse into the real Park Jimin as distinct from the persona we see on the screens.

But then there is JK: JM hyung is sexy. He has pretty eyes. 'I want you.' Then he proceeds to drool over the Jibooty, squeeze them legs shut tight while struggling to sit through a Jimin solo dance without popping boners left right left around Jimin- Bless him.

I mean, dude nearly snapped his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the Ji-abs in the middle of a performance? Damn.

To be fair, the other members don't talk like this about Jimin and sexualise Jimin as often as JK does because, they don't want to screw Jimin's brains out? Cough, cough. Hashtag save Jimin from JK. Lol

If JK is sexually attracted to Jimin, how else do you expect him to express that? Never mind that he's done some of these things subconsciously at times. You know what...

Y'all need to give this man a break!

[RANT]

He was a hormonal teen- he is still relatively pretty young. It's ridiculous to expect and demand such high level of maturity from a 16/17 year old experiencing a nonplatonic love for the first time in his life and more so in an unforgiving and invasive environment such as that in which he found himself.

Jk and Jimin found each other before they found themselves and it's unreasonable to think that that didn't have a toll on their relationship dynamics. They are human.

They are each growing and maturing at different paces. Their relationship has suffered through its growing pains; Certainly, one person is going to appear lacking in one or two areas in one way shape or form and at any given point in their love journey. That doesn't make them less real.

Again, their careers and the pursuit of it haven't exactly given them the space, time or normalcy to explore what they are and who they are in a functional way, in my opinion.

Everything is moving fast in their world, everything is highly exaggerated and highly scrutinized. Kpop is not exactly a healthy space to foster a healthy relationship and it would be a miracle if any of them should come out unscathed.

Neither one of them went searching for this love thingy nor were they even experienced enough to look at their relationship beyond the convenience of it and the excitement of it- The orgasms were enough reason for them, I think.

I get uncomfortable when some Jikookers, out of good intentions, claim Jikook knew what they were doing, should have known therefore could have known the consequences of them coupling up in a group like BTS before entering into their relationship- let me stop you right there!

While this assumption may seem like a compliment to them it also perpetuates the adultification of early days Jikook which I find disturbing.

They were teens not grown adults when they fell in love. We can't expect and demand such level of maturity from them at that age as cool as that would have made them.

They don't need to be cool to be real. They don't need to be mature to be real.

Jikook is real regardless of whether they were thoughtful or not thoughtful about the consequences of them choosing to date in a group setting, or a homophobic society at the onset of their relationship.

It's ridiculous to dismiss what they are now on the grounds that S.K is a homophobic society or that dating a coworker is not inconsequential.

People date their coworkers all the time and there are gay couples in S.K.

Jikook were too young to comprehend the consequences of dating because which teen worries about all of that before popping one off for the lord? On which planet, sir/ma'am??Were they thinking with their 'ducks?' I believe so. But again, that doesn't make them any less real.

From what I can tell anyway, 2018 was the year Jikook had anything resembling a serious thoughtful contemplation of the status of their relationship- Well, 2018 and this later half of 2020 as some of you might have already noticed. More on this later.

But yes, this adultification of early days Jikook is absurd and needs to stop. And what's equally disturbing is the infantilization of the adult day Jikook- you can't expect Jikook dynamics to remain the same throughout the years. That's bizzare.

Don't expect them to be their same jeonlous, Jimlous, possessive selves. They are growing. They are evolving as individuals and as a pair.

I side eye the fuck out of these fake woke shippers and 'grown ups' who filter Jikook interactions through adult lens and tag moments like Jimlous and Jeonlous as toxic and unhealthy without taking into context where they were at in their love journey or even their age. What y'all think this is? Fiction? Get the fuck outta here.

Jikook have had to learn and grow on the Job and around their job and learn to love eachother under the scrutiny of severe cameras and weird Ahjummas. Leave them the fuck alone or I swear I will petrify your ass for an entire comeback season. Lol

[Rant over]

All that being said, I get it. The way JK talks about Jimin isn't exactly special or unique from the way the other's speak about Jimin. But it isn't exactly superficial either...

And yes, it's quite unsettling that he doesn't describe Jimin in a way that gives meaningful insight into Jimin's personality as distinct from the others', given as he has exclusive access to Jimin more so than any of the members- we have a lot to unpack today, don't we?

Then on the other hand, there are those who think the exact opposite and see JK as the one who gives more to their relationship. That JK takes their relationship more seriously than Jimin does. They see Jimin as a bit wishy-washy when it comes to his commitment to their relationship- this breaks my heart.

Often, such people will cite Jimin's flirty nature, his lack of boundaries with others amongst other things, to prove their point...

Grab a seat, this discussion is going to be a long one. Smiley face.

JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

Jimin first got on my alt-ship radar in Rookie King when he was given an opportunity to air any and all of his grievances accumulated over the years against any member or staff of BigHit but instead chose to use that opportunity to talk about JK and how JK's actions had been hurting him.

Prior to this, he was just my bias and I would casually ship him with Suga, V, RM and basically all the members- except JK. I just couldn't ship JK with anyone.

Back then, I had a vague sense of JM's personality but felt I knew enough about him to theorize on his love language and JK was the last person I thought of as capable of meeting those emotional needs of Jimin's.

Rookie King changed my mind.

Jimin wasn't just trying to squash his differences with JK, he was trying to get closer to him. To get emotionally intimate with him- this is one of the things that sparked my interest in their dynamics.

Because it wasn't as if they weren't close. They were. They had a skinship between them. Skinship, or lack of physical boundaries as I like to call it, is one of the means through which BTS achieve intimacy amongst them.

Jikook had that between them at the time, they went everywhere together, woke each other up- they were close.

Yet Jimin felt they weren't close enough. That there was a wall between them. Now, I see a lot of people misinterpret this period in the Jikook timeline as that Jimin was crushing hard on JK. He wasn't. In my opinion.

You see, Jimin was the last person to Join the band. This was bound to have an effect on his relationship dynamics with the rest of the members as he had missed out on two years worth of emotional connection and camaraderie with them.

He had had only one year to bond and get to know the others away from the cameras and in a way that could help him develop a sense of belongingness within the group.

Within this one year, he had school, voice training, and other activities that possibly got in the way of him truly building an intimate connection with the others.

He is the only member out of the seven whose intimacy journey got captured on camera. He had to foster a connection with the others with the cameras around.

But building a connection with people even in a platonic sense is quite an intimate and private process. It takes vulnerability, honesty, a willingness to submit and subject oneself to varying degrees of humiliation, a sacrifice of the self, ego and pride in a way that just strips you naked- metaphorically speaking.

And in Jimin's case, he had to go through this stage and process openly and with the cameras around- the second hand embarrassment I get from watching early days Park Jimin!

He literally had to be the clown of the group, the hufflepuff, the clingy one, the flirty one, the one with the abs, the loud and chatty one as well as all the tasteless epithets people now weaponize against him.

I believe, all he was trying to do at this stage was breach the barriers he felt existed between him and the others as the newcomer of the group so he didn't feel like an outsider.

That is his first love language- the need to belong. He has a strong desire to feel connected with people. He cares about people and connection. He's reiterated this throughout the years and even more loudly in the recent Japan interviews.

He wanted to be part of BTS both physically and emotionally. He wanted to fit in, to belong with them, to be accepted and viewed as one of the boys- BTS.

You could see this in the way he had adopted the mannerisms of the group- the skinship, the love language of the group if you will.

It is why when Suga complained about him not liking him as much, Jimin immediately drew closer to him and wrapped his hands around him, initiating skinship between them to show he liked him.

Jimin tried to speak the groups love language so he could bond with them but he also began to infuse his own love language.

If you've seen his relationship with his father you'd understand that Jimin expresses his love through giving, nurturing etc. It is how his primary care givers showed him love and so how he also shows and conveys his love.

The members have talked about how he would encourage them to talk, to open up, how he would listen to them, be there for them and give them gifts- the birthday gift exchange culture in BTS didn't exist until Jimin arrived in BTS.

What I'm trying to say is, Jimin has a distinct way of showing love that is unique from how everyone else in the group expresses their love. That, there is also an established love parlance within BTS that everyone speaks and that is skinship.

So when Jimin does skinship with any member he is not acting 'clingy' he is just speaking the love language that the group understands. But when Jimin nurtures and acts supportive and what not, he is speaking his own unique love language.

Now I have talked extensively about how Jimin expresses his in my last post so I will be focusing mainly on how he receives loves or what gestures he interprets as love.

And since there is a general consensus that VMin have an emotional connection, I will be referencing their relationship a lot for comparisons sake.

Tae is the only member Jimin got to spend the most time with around predebut without the intrusion of the cameras. This i feel allowed Tae room to strip back and be fully vulnerable with Jimin without reservation as is required of intimacy- which was not the case for Jikook hence JK shying away from interacting with JM in front of the cameras.

Jikook wasn't accorded the luxury of privacy VMin had to build their bond. Jikook had to build their bond with the camera's trailing them. How many times have we seen JK give death stares to the camera people for invading his me time with Jimin?

Not to be psychoanalytic but I feel, this is what induced the exhibitionist tendencies we see in them- or perhaps I'm wrong and this is just them being extra. Bless them.

Within the one year JM was trying to connect with JK through skinship, JK was also only coming around to understanding what skinship meant to him. They were evolving at different paces.

JK has the most walls in BTS. He wasn't just physically closed off to skinship in the early days forcing Tae to strip him naked in the bathroom, he was emotionally closed off too.

He is still pretty much emotionally closed off- he likes to put up walls. He had his own room at the dorm, does his own laundry, barely keeps in touch with the others or pick up the damn phone when they call etc.

Jk barely partakes in the group's established way of life except for perhaps the skinship. In my opinion.

It took JK a while to understand this culture of skinship though. And the members, all of them, had to push his boundaries further back in order to connect with him.

For instance, Jin pinching his nipples to wake him up, Tae doing- well, all of it. Go watch Taekook sexual tension edits, I dare you. You'll understand.

These members had three years off camera with JK to build a connection with him and even they were met with some resistance from JK.

All Jimin had was a year with JK. I feel Jimin lowkey coveted what the others had with JK and perhaps wanted to have that with him too. Why? Because of his need to belong and connect with people. Watching JK's dynamics with the others probably made him feel left out.

I also understand how this could have been overwhelming for young JK who was having both his physical boundaries and emotional boundaries breached at the same time by this person whom he he'd known for only a year.

That's just one of the major differences between Jikook and Taekook: while Tae was busy breaching the physical walls between him and JK, Jimin was attempting emotional heist on him. Bravo Jimin, Bravo.

So do I think at this point in 2013 that Jikook were falling in love or had fallen in love? NO. But what I took from that moment was that Jimin wanted and needed to feel a sense of belongingness with JK.

Mind you I said he wanted to belong, not owned. Freedom is a component of Jimin's love language. In as much as he wants to be kept he wants to be set free- To be be given the room and freedom to explore options and take risks without judgement and without sanctions.

This need is often misconstrued as him being noncommittal.

His need for freedom, I believe, stems from his being raised in a conservative home with parents that directed and dictated every facet of his life and wouldn't even allow him to pursue his passions until later. It took a while for his father to give him the go ahead to pursue his dream- which is performing on stage.

This is why I said in my last post that Jimin has a need to be in control of the decision making in a relationship. Being able to do as he pleases is important to him. Being able to control his own narrative is important to him. And the only person in BTS that permits him to have such authority over him is JK.

Now, I know you are going to say 'but JK is a bit possessive yadda yadda yadda'.

Listen, Jimin's need for freedom is inextricably linked with his fear of judgment and repercussion. What this means is, although he wants his freedom he is often afraid of what will happen if he should go for it.

As such, very often he wouldn't do anything without permission. Especially if he feels it's going to land him in trouble.

I fist noticed this in the 2014 Jikook bangtan bomb when he said he was starting to take a liking to JK but then right after he asked if JK was ok with that. Suga have also said, Jimin doesn't go out of his way to do things that makes people hate him- See this is why he needs JK. He could use some rebellion in his life.

However, this fear of sanctions often makes him complacent to and an accomplice in toxic behavioural patterns.

For instance, until recently, he would enable JK and encourage his acts of jealousy and possessiveness and even incite them at times. He would hold on to the thorns if it means keeping the rose.

But I see him asserting himself and demanding space within their relationship at times but when he does and JK withdraws he would act clingy around JK.

It is what Manila was about, what August 2019 was about and what April/May 2020 was about. I know some of y'all don't agree with my analysis on these moments, but I'm gonna have to stand by it.

Jimin is all about the balance of scales. The balance of needs and wants. The balance of fears and desires. It's just the Libra in him. Give him too much freedom and he will feel unwanted, hold on too tight and he would feel suffocated.

'I value my relationship. Spending time with my friends is gold' remember this shade?

Jimin's fear of Judgment comes from being a perfectionist and also being raised in a conservative home with a lot of expectations of him to be the model son as the elder male.

Thus, he instinctively gravitates towards people who are less judgy or have too much expectations of him.

Also, because he believes he has to work hard to achieve the things he wwants he wants to be loved, it would mean a lot to him if he didn't have to work hard to have someone love him.

It makes sense then that he would gravitate towards JK.

Jk embodies all of Jimin's wildest desires. I call this the allure of the Golden Maknae. Jk doesn't conform. He doesn't care about people's opinions of him and lives his life on his own terms- something Jimin is striving for.

No member in BTS is as free spirited, or as rebellious as JK is. When Suga told him not to get a tattoo because the fans would hate it- he's gotten it anyway hasn't he?

The best part, JK fell all on his own. And you damn right. he fell hard.

Still on the subject of fears, another fear I feel Jimin has that speaks to his love language is the fear of being a burden.

It is why he gives and gives and keeps giving. He'd rather give than receive. Which by the way, JK is the only member I have seen Jimin demand back what he gives him. Emotionally speaking.

Because he gives a lot of himself, he burns out quickly and feels emotionally drained quite often.

He has admitted himself that he used to drink by himself in his room whenever he felt drained. I assume he drank by himself because he didn't want to be a burden to others. Aka JK.

You see, JK is an empath. He feels people's pain as if they were his own. You just have to see him tear up while watching JM cry to understand what I mean by this. Jimin is a nurturer, he knows what it feels like to listen to someone's pain.

And if Tae is the one he goes to when it becomes overbearing then what does he need JK for? Glad you asked!

What JK offers Jimin is nourishment. A safe space for him to heal and reboot. JK replenishes Jimin. It is why he constantly wants to be around him.

Jk has been a canvas in their love dynamics from day one. They've both had to negotiate their needs and wants to make their relationship work. Which is something I find unique about their dynamics and why I believe they are real.

JK's lack of experience in dating, meant he had gone into their relationship without any preconceived notions of love. He's had to learn to love Jimin the way Jimin wants to be loved.

Coming from the background he's coming from, and having been denied his ambitions for such a long time, I see why Jimin would be drawn to people that are quite ambitious.

And even though, JK wasn't this person at first, Jimin has had to hype him up to the task. He pushes JK to be more ambitious.

When it comes to JK, I feel it's more about his potential to be everything Jimin wants in a partner and JK seems more than happy to comply with this.

Because of Jimin's duality and as a natural nurturer, I feel Jimin would also be attracted to someone emotionally open to recieving his love but not too emotionally dependent on him- the balance of scales I mentioned earlier.

It is why VMin wouldn't work, in my opinion. Tae is too emotionally dependent on Jimin. He ends up taking too much than he gives. On the other hand, Suga isn't emotionally dependent enough.

Again, for a man who's battled insecurity for years, it's safe to assume security, certainty and stability are an intricate part of his love language.

He seeks validation of these needs through the most random of things. In my opinion. He wants to be the one that knows JK the best. It matters to him if their clothes match, if their hair colors match, if JK meets his eyes in the middle of a serious comeback interview, if he checks all of JK's answers- hell, dude be whispering sweet empty nothings in JK's ears most times, talking about they are destined to be together and shit. You are me, I am you. Shit.

As annoying as some of these behaviors may be, JK is very considerate and tolerant of them and consideration is another one of Jimin's love language. This goes back to having been denied his dreams by his father. That denial flowed from a lack of consideration of his needs.

And as much as emotionally connected he is with Tae, Tae barely takes his feelings into consideration. And you see this in the letter Tae's written to Jimin. Or even in the dumpling incident where Tae put his want above Jimin's.

Not to mention the moments, JM have had to walk out of rooms because- Tae won't stop playing with JK's dam hair! Lol. They are cute.

People take from Jimin without reservation. But Jk is considerate as Jimin is of JK's needs.

Jk wasn't the 'exhibitionist' in that pair. He's a very private individual from what I can tell.

That PDA, that exhibitionism we see in them, that's all Park Jimin. He kinky. Dude freaky as fuck- we ain't mad at that. Bless him.

He enjoys public displays of affection. It's how he receives love. But PDA is not JK's love language, in my opinion. Yet he goes out of his way to show his affections for JM openly.

The best example I can give of this is Rosebowl.

JK understands that in order to be intimate with JM he has to allow himself to be influenced by him.

And Jimin understands that, as much as he wants to be close to JK that he doesn't have to rush him or force him into giving him the things he need from their relationship.

They are both very considerate of each other's needs, as random and ridiculous as those needs may be and cater to them in a way that is uniquely them.

Take the New Jersey live 2019 for example. Jimin seemed exhausted. Didn't want to be on another Live that night but JK clearly wanted to be seen on a Live together with him so he was there.

Another instance is the rock bison incident, where JM exchanged his toy for JK's just to make JK happy.

CONCLUSION

Listen, Jimin is in love with Jk no matter how imperfect you think he is.

No matter how much you think JK sucks at expressing his feelings for JM, Jimin loves him. No matter how close JM is with the other members, aka VMin, Yoonmin, Minimoni and the others; no matter the lack of emotional and physical boundaries between him and the others he will always fall back on Jk because none of those relationships fulfill him as much as JK does.

Jimin's constant need to be around JK could only mean there is some he gets from JK, a sense of fulfillment he gets that he doesn't get from any other member.

Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

The She-Wolf and the Young Dragon (Lyanna Stark x Daeron Targaryen OC)

I wrote this during my fanfiction module in my final year at university. 

Brief: An AU of GRRM’s novels ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’, taking place before the events of the first book. A ‘what if’ scenario where one of the children of King Aerys II and Rhaella Targaryen, Daeron survives infancy into his adulthood, where he is the one to supposedly ‘kidnap��� Lyanna Stark instead of eldest brother, Rhaegar.

BRANDON

His father warned him many times before, that the Starks never did well down south. Yet no matter how stubborn he was, he would never listen.

It lingered in the warmer climate how out of place Brandon Stark was in comparison to what he experienced in the North. No matter how big the lands were, it would remain outdated in contrast to the rest of Westeros.

The Capital held a different atmosphere to Winterfell when he landed ashore from the mouth of the Blackwater Bay. The smell of the streets and manure was strong even when mixed with the strong current of the salt in the air.

Even from here, he could see the Red Keep in all its glory, as beautiful and imposing as he had predicted it to be. The dragons who had ruled for centuries made everything very impressive, even when no winged beast flew any longer in the air. The Targaryens had made King’s Landing their home and he knew for certain of the risk of walking into the dragon’s den. 

“Where is she?” His voice was thunderous when it bounced from pillar to pillar, booming across the hall with steps following, the five men he journeyed with were persistent in tailing behind. The Great Hall was quiet when the Young Wolf of Winterfell stormed through the double doors, noting of the fact that neither the King nor his Hand was around to witness, excluding the few Kingsguard and those of Prince Rhaegar’s own sworn swords that lingered; a deadly chill that passed. Good, Brandon thought, the Gods know how this would go if he were here.

“Brandon Stark, your travels to King’s Landing were swift?” At the base of the steps to the Iron Throne, the Silver Prince was dressed as if ready for long periods of mourning: his deep indigo eyes were just as drab and dark as his attire, his long silver-gold hair tied in a careful knot.

“Don’t you play me for a fool, where is she?” He barked. “I know you have her!” Hovering below the steps himself, glaring up at the Prince. Brandon Stark was all wolf and no man it seemed, yet he still felt inadequate beneath the Dragon.

“Why would you accuse me of kidnapping your sister?”

Brandon’s face grew ever-so-hot, “You gave her the roses at the tourney! My brother had been the one to hold me back before I had the chance to smack you off your horse. Or had you forgotten just as much when you were getting cosy with her that same evening?”

Ser Arthur Dayne was just an inch away from cutting the Stark heir in half if he dared lay a finger on his Prince - Brandon knew that himself. It would be all Seven Hells unleashed if the King had heard of such a crime. The Prince of Dragonstone didn’t seem alarmed nor angered by the accusations, albeit puzzled, before telling his close friend to lower his weapon.

“I think you have been left in disarray by this, Brandon.”

“How? You were taking part in the tourney, my sister had eyes for you even with a future betrothed waiting for her.” He glowered, holding his sword carefully. Prince Rhaegar’s jaw clenched noticeably before he gave a polite, strained smile.

“There has been a misinterpretation of information spread between who you believe was me and the one you seek. You see, I was not the only Targaryen Prince there.” Rhaegar explained calmly, observing how Brandon’s face scrunched up. “If you are looking for a man with my features, perhaps it is my brother you may be wanting to pursue.”

Brandon seemed reluctant to admit that, grudgingly removing his hand from his sword. Of course, it would make sense now, and now the only fool standing here is I.

“Daeron,” Brandon groaned, “he was the one to give the roses to my sister?”

“It would seem so. Those two did seem to grow close in a short amount of time. After all, who would’ve imagined the skilled mystery knight to win the tourney and my brother’s heart?” Said Rhaegar. “She had tended to his wounds after his defeat, I saw it myself... What took place in Harrenhal was what I had to explain to my wife.”

Poor Elia Martell was sweet and innocent: someone who should’ve been told everything in the end. At the end of the day, Rhaegar’s so-called infidelity was untrue and Elia could rest easy knowing her husband remained nonetheless faithful. “What would we do with them then? For all we know, they could be all the way to Essos by now.”

The Silver Prince moved before he stood at a level ground with Brandon. “If I know one thing about my brother, he wouldn’t be keen to travel east. Don’t take my brother for a fool. My father’s spies have eyes not just in Westeros but across the Narrow Sea, thanks to his growing paranoia. He’s still here, I know that for a fact - lurking in a shadow that keeps him and your sister concealed from wandering eyes.”

But for how long will that veil stay up? Brandon thought. You cannot hide anything when you lurk within these walls. “Help me find my brother before the wind catches our words and my father or Robert Baratheon do. Stay here in the Keep and I will grant you and your men housing, your stay here unscathed, and we will go find them together.”

Brandon wavered, but the consequences seemed far too grave; with too much at stake. “And of your father? What if he hears of this squabble between me and his heir?”

Rhaegar grimaced. “Then I pray to both the Seven and your Old Gods that his wrath is merciful.” No mercy would come from those haunted by madness. Brandon knew of no such thing. The Mad King was more an old dog than a sane ruler, one that needed to be put down soon enough. 

-

LYANNA

“Oh, my love.”

The laugh had tumbled from her throat by the time she had landed softly on the pillows beneath her, her long dark hair fanning around her with the following melodic chuckle shortly joining hers. Their bodies were tangled and laid naked as the day they had been born, beneath the cherry wood ceiling with the low candlelight surrounding them.

In the past, Lyanna would’ve held her admiration for the eldest born son of the Mad King at bay around her brothers, but she had never imagined the second-born to have captured her heart. In the dim light, he could’ve been the spitting image of Rhaegar, but the shadows cut false definitions of sharp edges to his face, giving him a more mature look like his brother momentarily. But his eyes were not like the Silver Prince: the second-born was more spirited and his eyes were the lovely colour of lavender, just like the ones Lyanna saw when travelling down on her travels to Harrenhal. She had gotten her brother Eddard to pick some for her and she smelt them whilst riding horseback, as sweet as the summertime and what the singers proclaimed. Had she been able to keep them before Benjen stole them from her tauntingly, she would’ve braided them into her hair, a freshness to keep her content for the rest of the journey down south.

The Young Dragon had eyes that brought her memories of Winterfell with her brothers: where Old Nan would talk about the ice giants beyond the wall and of the wilderness that followed. The cold bite was ever so bitter but the She-Wolf survived throughout. There was more to the North in his eyes that she wasn’t used to, a rigidness that was not found in him. Daeron had more Northerner in him than dragon, it seemed.

She remembered the night when Rhaegar sang with his silver harp at the feast and how the tears came quickly to her eyes, the same as most of the other ladies in the hall. His song was full of solemnity, yet Lyanna had to ignore the snickering from Benjen and when she and Daeron stole timid glances, sheepish but frequent. Rhaegar was a man a decade her senior and tied in matrimony. She would never compete with a married woman for a man everyone admired. What he’s not like of Rhaegar, I prefer. He will be everything his brother is not and so much more.

“You still have much energy, even at this time of the night.” She smoothed at the fair hairs on his chest, kissing at his shoulder fondly. She could imagine living here for the rest of her life with just Daeron and away from the eyes of those, the duties and responsibilities, living and making their own family. “You have tired me out, Daeron.”

“Few people get to ride a dragon; it can be rather draining.” Her husband winked, chuckling softly when her face warmed in reaction. Their laughter died down when his attention was drawn to her kisses resuming on his skin, quickly kissing her back with such feverish intent.

“The last of the dragons died a century before you were born, Your Grace. Lost in tragedy if we dare choose to forget, hmm?” Her eyes were blue as the winter roses she loved in the North, alive and full of mirth.

“You needn’t address me like that, my lady,” Daeron smiled, stroking away the hair from her face, “after all, we are equals.” In the eyes of the north and the Old Gods, they wouldn’t be, but Lyanna did not need to follow those customs. In the eyes of the Gods and men, we are one and together. A Targaryen, whose flame burns bright like his, just like those of greatness who came before him.

“In the eyes of the Faith, perhaps, but not to my father.” Lyanna sighed. “I believe he would find me more wild than dutiful.”

His hair was slicked from sweat when he pulled it from his face, tenderly kissing at her with such ardour. “The North I was told of was all cold and bitterness, but there was a flame within you that was only seen in those who carried the blood of the dragon. I never thought I would see it so brightly in you.” Daeron said. “When we return to the cities, we may wed in your custom, and revisit our fathers when the time comes.”

“And of your father, Aerys? Has there been no word of His Grace or his spies?”

“My father… grows more delirious the longer the days grow, his position falters whilst my brother is alive, his mistrust festers. Rhaegar is every right a King, but getting rid of my father will be troublesome without the right aid.” Daeron admitted bitterly. “That will be his problem, for now. He’ll be ready to find us when he has dealt accordingly with my father.”

“Rhaegar will not be able to conceal everything if he is not in on our secret already, not from my brothers alone. We will not be able to hide any longer.” Brandon will have to halt his wedding for a month if he hasn’t already. He would hunt to the ends of Essos to find me. She dreaded.

Daeron hesitated when he rose from their small bed, his bareness not a problem for either of them. “I fear my father may do something that will not only break him and our families, but tear the entire realm apart.”

Lyanna too rose from the bed and came to embrace him from behind. “If you have me, you have the North by your side, I swear it. We knelt to the Conqueror three centuries ago, we have stood with you since then.” Lyanna promised proudly. “Brandon shall marry one of Hoster Tully’s daughters, and therefore, he will have the Riverlands too. The Arryns from Ned, thanks to Jon. They would aid you if it is needed for their allegiance.”

Daeron’s lavender eyes widened in surprise when he turned to her. “And of your betrothed? Surely Robert Baratheon will not have our side when he accuses me of kidnapping his lady.”

“I am not his lady. I never was. Robert is all boar than man, and his appetite for other ladies would continue no matter his age.” Lyanna objected. “He will hear of my wrath before he dares lay a hand on you.”

The Young Dragon held her tightly in his arms, “I would hope no day would have to arrive, for any of us.” He drawled. “No stress should come to a mother and her potential newborn.”

Lyanna could imagine how her stomach would look when swelled with a child—their child—and the very image of her one day holding her babe in her arms. It made the She-Wolf eager for it to be a so-called reality. A son, she hoped for, a son who would share the blood of the North and Old Valyria. Two powerful houses, coming together as one.

“We still have not thought of names, if the time comes for it.” Lyanna changed the subject quickly, settling her husband to sit once more, his hand to her back and stroking the back of her long hair. “Were there any you had in mind?”

“My grand-uncle Aemon is at the wall, but he is everything a King should be had he not turned it away for my grandfather,” Daeron said with a sad smile, “I want to honour his name, for the man who was too generous and gave the crown to his brother.”

Lyanna smiled, “He sounds like a good man.” Daeron agreed, and for a moment, the wistfulness hung over his head as much as it did over his older brother, giving him a similar look to the Silver Prince. No matter how far he goes, he will always have some part of Rhaegar’s despondency.

“No matter what happens, we will endure this together, against everyone else. We deal with your father and my own when we return. For now, I want to enjoy your company as much as possible.” The She-Wolf softly spoke, enveloping her husband gently. Even in the coolness of their room, he was warm to the touch. But she would get used to it.

The Young Dragon had encircled her to his chest and pulled her back to the bed, caressing and kissing her with such glee. “My little wife, as brave as those of winter who came before her and strong as ice itself. The dragon and the wolf have a fitting name.”

[queenmuzz]

Mors aurem vellens, 'Vivite,' ait, 'venio'  Chapter III

Firstfruit Offering

The sun shone in your eyes, causing you to flinch.  How long had you slept?  Of course, you’d had a long trip, and your body didn’t have the stamina it used to, but surely you wouldn’t be so negligent as to sleep until mid morning?  But the way the shadows caused by the pillars stretched out on the marble, you had definitely overslept. Using your staff, you almost ran into the inner sanctum, terrified that you had the sacred fire die out.  From your interactions last night, you were almost certain that Vergil was not the type of God to have his rites besmirched.   What a dishonour it would be, to be slain for blasphemy on your first day as Temple Priestess!

Thankfully, the flames still flickered, albeit weakly, eating the last of the log, the embers now almost ash.  

So you gingerly placed another log from your small stash, as to not smother the little flame.  You cautiously began to blow at the base of the charred log, only stopping when the flames began to lick and scorch at the new logs shreds, kindling into a new flame.  With a sigh of relief, you slowly got back up.  In the light of mid morning, the temple, while eerily silent, was less foreboding than last evening, and the whistling wind seemed less strange. 

Even the presence of Vergil, unseen, but ever present was much less terrifying.  You could feel him, watching your every move, but not as overwhelming and less judgemental as last night, you still felt him as you walked back to your messy bedroll.  After all, he could have just struck you down for sleeping in, for almost losing the fire, he was well within his rights as God within his Temple.  But he just remained silent as his shrine statue.

You arrived back to your modest sleeping area, and as you rolled up your bundle, you noticed something. There, sitting at the foot of the bed was a bundle of brown fur. Upon closer inspection showed that there was one...no two...rabbits laying dead.  For a brief moment, you panicked, you had heard of feuding families leaving dead animals in the beds of their enemies as a warning.  But these ones seemed placed at the foot of the bed, and not where you would have noticed them upon waking.  And the way they were positioned, they kind of reminded you of when the barn cats would present dead mice to you and your siblings, as some sort of ‘gift’. Had Vergil given them to you as a ‘welcome present?’ You had to stifle an inward snicker at the mental image of the God carrying the pair of rabbits in his mouth before dropping it at your feet, and you hoped that he didn’t have the ability to read minds.  But, even though you still felt like you were being watched, there was no change in the intensity, and so you relaxed, and allowed yourself to utter out a soft ‘Thank you’ into the still air.  There was a shimmer in the light, the roots of the giant plant seemed to shift slightly, but then, all was silent.  You picked both of the rabbits up, and a knife contemplating on what to do with them.  Skinning them would be the first step of course, but what then?  Roasting them sounded delicious, but you had no time to turn a spit, undoubtedly today would be busy.  But perhaps...a stew?  You had a turnip, and some wild herbs that you’d picked up on your travels.  Unfortunately, a stew was not a stew worth eating without some bread to soak up the juices, and you were practically down to crusts of  bread so stale, that not even an ocean of stew would soften them up....

“Hello?!”  A voice rang out, startling you out of your thoughts.  You placed your knife down and followed the voice.  From what you had heard, no one ever came here, the entire countryside thought  land was cursed, and the temple shouldn’t have any visitors.  Still, it would be rude as Temple Priestess to not greet the person, even if they were lost.

“Hello? Anyone here?” The voice repeated, more louder, and it came from the common area.   Strange, you swore you could smell freshly baked bread.

Ah, there the visitor, a plump, auburn haired woman with a ruddy complexion, dressed in a simple peasant’s dress, carrying a basket, looking around slightly worriedly, and muttering to herself. 

“I do hope nothing bad happened to her, if something did….Enrico, I’m going to...” she growled, but whatever her threat was cut off by your appearance.

“AH!  There you are! When I heard that my Dear'' the faux deference dripped through, “husband left you all by your lonesome here, at NIGHT of all times, without inviting you to spend the night at our farm place, I was THIS close,” she pinched the fingers of her free hand together, almost touching, “to making him sleep with the pigs.  Damn fool…”  she brushed the hair away from her face, and looked around.  “So, I told him that I was going to come here this morning, and that he either come along, or be in charge of all the chores.” She chuckled, “Guess which he picked? He’s so superstitious, he’d rather have to milk the cows, feed the chickens, AND look after our little son than set foot here.  Anyways,” she smiled and gave a curtsy, “I’m Cecilia Elesion, wife of the lovable idiot, Enrico.  And I figured to myself, ‘that poor girl is all by herself, a newcomer, with no one lookin’ out for herself, so I’m gonna take a look out for her.’  Rico begged me not to go, but I insisted.  It’s ‘bout time someone took care of this Temple, it’s been abandoned for ages.” She took a look around, her eyes trailing the roots that wound themselves the pillars. “Ah, yes...I suppose you could call this a ‘Welcome to your new home’ gift.  I made em’ meself!”  She handed you the basket, and the gingham sheet that covered slipped off, revealing several loaves of freshly baked bread, some even designed in a braided pattern.  This wasn’t the leftover scraps of a farm wife's dough, these were the first loaves.  Cecelia was obviously sincere in her devotion.  

“Thank you!” you breathed in the scent as you took the basket.  After months of bread hard enough to crack teeth, warm fresh bread was glorious.  It would make a fantastic addition to the rabbit stew you had planned.  It would be  your first proper meal since you had left your home village.  For an instant, you felt a bit homesick, memories of your mother’s hearty stew.  You grasped her hand in thanks, trying to invoke a blessing, but a familiar chill trickled up your spine, and you felt a whisper in the shell of your ear.

“Ah….it appears she has been blessed by my Mother….” Vergil’s voice nearly startled you, unexpected as it was.  He’d been so content to lurk in the background, that you’d momentarily forgotten about his presence.  You paused for a moment, a frown on your face as you tried to decipher what he said.  Eva’s blessing… AHA!  The generous woman in front of you was with child, even if she didn’t show it, perhaps she didn’t even know it.

“Is something wrong?” Cecelia asked, misinterpreting your frown for a concern.  You hesitated, not knowing how to go around such a delicate subject.  As a child, you remember your mother slapping a man when he asked her when she was expecting, even when she wasn’t pregnant.  Should  you even mention it?  You decided, you  had been given a message from a God, it wouldn’t do to not relay it.

“I am just a little concerned with you going through all this effort, carrying all this load while expecting.”  After all, a pregnant woman shouldn’t exert herself too much.  She should be informed of her condition, in order to prepare herself.

Cecelia’s reaction was unexpected.  She turned pale, and a tinge of fear passed over her face. “You...you could tell?”

Ah, so she already knew.

“Well, I was told,” you admitted, glancing at the statue.  Strange, she should be happy, excited for a new addition to the family, not looking like she was about to burst out in tears.

“No one knows yet, not even Enrico.” she confessed, a sheen of sweat coming over her forehead.  You quickly leant your arm to help her down to the floor. “We’ve tried so hard after our only son, so many losses, that this time… this time I couldn’t bear to  let him know, I didn’t want to get his hopes up once again, only for them to come crashing down.  Our little Credo...he was our miracle child...I had resigned myself to focusing on just him.”  She looked at you, dawning horror on her face.  “He told you?  Does that mean…?”  She couldn’t speak further, the poor woman looked like she was going to pass out.

The whisper came again, without a hint of deception, “I have no claims on her unborn child nor her, not for many years, my Mother shall guide her through both their journeys.”  His words, while spoken firmly and without empathy, were a relief to you.  

Oh, so this was going to be  a Priestess’s job?  You’d always assumed that it would be a rather insular job, tending to the hearth, offering prayers, not relaying messages like the more outgoing Gods’ priests.  You knelt down towards the trembling woman, speaking as soothingly as possible. “It’s alright...He has spoken to me, and he says that you and your child are safe.”  

The woman scanned your face, trying to find out if  you were truly speaking the truth, or just speaking false words of comfort, before the impact of what you had said hit her.

“You’re...you’re certain?”  

You nodded, inwardly relieved as the ruddiness returned to her cheeks.  What you didn’t expect was her hugging you.

“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!”  You swore you could hear your ribs cracking, “A thousand blessings upon you.  You have no idea how much both of us have been praying to Mother Eva for another child, we were almost planning on making a Pilgrimage to Fortuna.  But if you and Him say…”  she looked to you for one last confirmation, and smiled brightly.  “Rico will be delighted when I tell him.  And to think…” her old grin came back, “he’d rather clean up chicken droppings than set foot in this place.”  She looked down at the basket, momentarily forgotten, “this is poor payment, but is there anything, ANYTHING you need that our family can provide, we can do it.”

“Well,” you thought.  In truth, the fact the Temple was located on lifeless ground, meant you were without much sustenance, so maybe… “Wood for the sacred hearth.  I need a supply to keep the flame burning.”

“Say no more,” Cecilia assured you as she got back onto her feet, “you will lack for nothing. We’re just poor humble farmers, but we can provide you and Him the essentials.  Whatever you need!” 

She gave a curtsy to you, paused before the statue, and clasped her hands to speak a short silent prayer.  For a brief moment, you swore you saw the roots quiver, but when tried to take a closer look, they were still.  But something in the air was different, other than the smell of bread, there was a vibration, a smell of fresh earth, but then it was sucked up, like water to a dry sponge.

And with that the woman left, a spring to her step, so out of place in such a dour looking place.

*******

Vergil watched as the little plump woman hurried out, singing a merry tune.  Mortals got far too excited over small things.  While he spoke the truth,  that for now, he had no claims on her or her child, in a short amount of his time, he would claim one, then the other.  That went for everyone, none could escape his reach.  Perhaps that’s why people were afraid of him, that they would attempt to avoid his inevitable arrival to end their pitiful lives.  But this was strange.  That woman had… thanked him?  To him, a God of Death, be given thanks felt...fulfilling.  A surge of energy, more potent than life blood coursed through him, and the Qliphoth’s roots seemed to twitch in response.  

“Well, that was kind of you.”  His sense of puzzlement was dissipated as the voice of his Priestess, who was watching the woman’s receding form. 

He stood beside her, still invisible and scoffed, “She provided an offering, I felt it would be poor form to let her leave without being compensated.” “But you didn’t have to do that.  You made her so happy!” she placed her hands together, “If you did that more often, perhaps more people would visit your temple!”

“And what makes you think I want people to ‘visit’?”

“Well…” she stroked her chin, “I assumed you would be lonely all by yourself here.  After all, that’s what temples and shrines are for, right?  To be a meeting point for both mortals and Deities.  Us mortals give you offerings and our prayers, and you give us advice, prophecies  and sometimes intercede on our behalf.”

She looked outside.  “Where I come from, in the wild forests…packs of monkeys and herds of  deer travel together.  The deer, with their keen noses, lead the monkeys to fresh vegetation with nuts and fruits, and the monkeys, sitting high above the trees, have a good view of the surrounding area and can alert the deer when a tiger is prowling downwind of the herd.  A relationship in which both benefit.”

Vergil was annoyed by her simple observation. “I need none of that.” “Well, you’re the only God I know who doesn’t appreciate or encourage worship.  Lady Trish has people flocking to her for her for rain-bringing storms, Lord Dante practically has entire battalions marching through his temples, praying for victory.  Even poets and writers make the pilgrimage from miles to beg the gift of inspiration from Lord V-”

“DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME!”

The roots of the Qliphoth rippled with energy, and he had to control them from jerking.  Just the mention of that cursed name brought back memories that he could not bear. In response to his rage the roots demanded blood, lifeforce, something to sate their ever ravenous hunger.  And they sensed the Priestess, standing there, so weak and vulnerable.  Easy prey.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke apologetically, but refreshingly not with overly emotional supplication.  Just her calm voice, startled at his outburst but without the expected fear, was enough to let his rage subside.  She stood there, unaware how close she was to death, her eyes staring through him.  She still couldn’t see him, of course, he would not allow it, but her steady and firm stance was  unafraid of his wrath.  Perhaps her expecting death in such a short time left her without fear.  

No, he ordered them to stand down, and they reluctantly complied, she has no idea of what she speaks of, he thought, and besides...she still has more use to me alive than dead...for now.

Still, his rage hadn’t truly subsided…did he really need her, another priest that would eventually stab him in the back? “I need no one.” He hissed, his voice sizzled through the temple like a winter’s wind.  “I need no worshippers….I need no priestess.”

And without allowing her to respond, he left, not even looking back.  She would no doubt leave after his outburst...any sane person would.   He was fine with that.

He did not need her.

He did not need anyone.

All He needed was power.

[goodolreliable-crows]

Nightmares and confessions 

Bumswiftery cuz this ship needs more content.

Smoking cw

Skittery stood in the bathroom area of the lodge, debating whether pumping water to wash his face would be too loud and wake the other boys. It was late, although he didn’t know the exact time. He had been trying to save up for a pocket watch but never could scrap together the funds. Judging by the soft sounds of the boys deep in slumber in the next room over and the crescent moon in the sky, he determined it was around midnight. 

He had woken up clammy from a nightmare and didn’t feel like trying to fall asleep again. He had seen some of the other boys have nightmares- Blink mostly, who frequently woke up screaming at any hours of the night before Mush had to rush over and comfort him. He never had dreams like that, which he was thankful for. He couldn’t imagine what that boy had been through to continue to be tortured by his own mind like that. 

The nightmares he had were just vague unsettling things that continuously crept over his mind the rest of the day, or at least until he snatched a cigar from someone. They were usually about improbable, sometimes childish things he felt guilty for letting bother him- monsters, his little brother getting hurt, or his family finding out something about him that he didn’t want anyone knowing. 

Not that he had any secrets that bothered him like that. That’s what he told himself. 

He decided it wasn’t worth it to get water, instead leaning his elbows on the trough and setting his head against his forearms. The cool breeze from the early spring rainstorm drifting in from the drafty windows felt nice against the clammy, bare skin of his back. 

He just wanted to sleep. He was so tired every day no matter what he did. 

After a few silent moments, listening to the rain, he felt the warmth of fingertips creep suddenly onto his shoulder. He jumped up, turning around and instinctively taking a defensive position with his fists balled. It was dark, but the curly mop of brown hair, hazel-green eyes, and toned muscles, visible even through his undershirt, told him who it was. Swifty was always doing that, sneaking up behind people and startling them whether he meant it or not. He was too nimble, too light on his feet. 

“Jeez, what’d ya do that for?” Skittery  whispered furiously, his face growing hot as he wished he had pulled on a shirt when he was leaving his bunk.

“Sorry, wanted to make sure you’s ok,” Swifty whispered back, his cheeks slightly red. 

Of course it had to be Swifty, Skittery thought to himself. Swifty had to be the one to wake up, when he was one of the two causing all these problems in the first place. 

Skittery didn’t blame the two boys for the feelings he got. It wasn’t their fault that he got lost in his head whenever Bumlets flipped his hair out of his face, or that he got a funny feeling in his stomach when Swifty adjusted his clothes. And it certainly wasn’t their fault for that sour, jealous mood that he couldn’t seem to shake after he walked into the lodge early one day, finding Bumlets being pushed up against the wall by Swifty, kissing his neck with his hands at his waist. 

That wasn’t his business. He just wanted a lover- he was jealous for the relationship they had, that was all. He wasn’t going to let his silly envy get in the way of his friendship, or let it bother whatever they had going on. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.” 

Skittery watched as Swifty sat down on the weathered floorboards, much to his dismay, his dangling suspenders clattering on the hardwood. He wasn’t in the mindset to stay up with someone. He glanced back to his empty bunk, briefly pondering if he could return to it without seeming rude. He decided against it, reluctantly joining the boy on the floor and crossing his legs. 

“You sick or something? You felt hot,” He asked softly. Swifty knew how hard it was to get Skittery into a conversation when he didn’t initiate it. It was somewhat of a skill, trying to carefully word his sentences to draw him in. Unfortunately, he was still groggy himself, meaning he wasn’t as slick with his tongue as he could be. 

“No, just had a nightmare,” the tall boy mumbled back. 

“You wanna tell me about it?” Swifty patiently asked. 

“Already forgetting it.” 

Swifty nodded, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get much of a conversation out of him. After a beat of silence, he dug around in the pockets of his shorts and procured a cigarette, offering it to him. Skittery’s gaze flicked from it back to the other boy's eyes, before taking it from him and setting it in the corner of his mouth. 

After successfully striking a match and lighting the cigarette, tendrils of smoke curling into the air, he leaned back on his elbows and looked Swifty up and down. 

“What about you, huh? What are you doin’ up so early?” 

“Just couldn’t sleep. Have a lot going on in my head,” he answered, somewhat relieved that the cigarette seemed to do the trick to get Skittery out of his shell, at least a little bit. 

He hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether he gave a fulfilling answer, before holding out the lit cigarette, embers glowing bright in the otherwise dark room. Swifty eyed him curiously, his bright eyes picking out details of the other boy's body best as he could in the darkness. 

“When I get nightmares I cozy up to Bumlets, ya know. You ain’t got someone like that? A gal or a fella or nothin’?” Swifty asked, after passing the cigarette back. 

Skitterys expression stiffened as he tried to ignore the knot forming in his stomach. 

“No, I ain't got a gal like that. And I ain’t like you either.” 

“Like me?” The curly haired boy replied, his eyebrows raising. 

“Ya know with the,” Skittery’s eyes darted to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “With the fellas.” 

Swifty pulled his legs against his chest, narrowing his eyes. “Well jeez, that ain’t what I was askin’.” 

“It ain’t your business.” 

Swifty sighed, knowing he had ruined what little softness he had pried out of him. “Don’t see how. You’s a looker, Skits.” 

Skittery felt his face flush, accompanied by a strange fluttering in his chest. He hated it. These feelings were stupid, impractical, and most importantly, could never be replicated. Swifty had Bumlets. They were happy together, and Skittery would just have to suck it up and bear through the agony that came with seeing them cuddling at night, or exchange kisses on the cheek in the morning, or playfully ruffle each other’s hair before buying papers. 

It had never occurred to him how much these things bothered him until he had Swifty all to himself, with nothing else but a shared cigarette and that wretched insomnia. 

“I’m going to try to sleep,” Skittery mumbled suddenly, Standing up and heading back towards the threshold between the bathroom and the bunks. In one motion, Swifty grabbed his wrist, pulled him back, and pinned his waist to the counter, gazing up at his face through the thick darkness. 

“What the hell’s up with you lately, John?” He whispered furiously, tightening his grip below his ribs. Skittery stood like a statue, his mouth gaping open as he prayed his weak knees would hold him. Their chests were almost touching, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of his stomach against his own in the brief eternity before he could cough out an answer. 

“Nothin’”, he said, his voice coming out small. His heart drummed as he watched a lock of Swifty's hair uncurl itself from his bangs and fall neatly onto his forehead. His eyes glistened in the shadows, filled with suspicion and curiosity.

“Nothings goin’ on with me, why’d you think that?” 

“I dunno, maybe how you can’t seem to stand being around me during the day?” 

Skittery took a breath, his arms glued to his sides. “It’s just me bein’ dumb, alright? Don’t worry about it.” 

“Worry about it?! Skits you...” he slowly released his grip, his hands trailing down from his waist to his hips. “You ain’t...”

“I ain’t what,” Skittery breathed, barely audible over his heartbeat.  

And in a split second, Swifty closed the gap between their mouths, his eyes fluttering shut as Skittery’s hands found their way onto the back of his neck. It was a tender, slow kiss, filled with questions and curiosity. Every thought or strange feeling left over from his nightmare had vanished. He wasn't sure if the rain was still falling- he couldn't hear a thing. Skittery discovered the other boy's lips were surprisingly silky, and he pulled away, chest heaving, with a fruity taste on his tongue. 

“Why the hell did ya do that?” Skittery said quietly, his fingers biting into the shorter boy’s shoulders. 

He shrugged in response, apparently more agitated from his response than alarmed from kissing his friend. 

“I don’t get you, Victor,” he said uneasily as he saw Swifty’s face drifting up towards his again. 

“Stop.” He pushed him away by his shoulders, struggling to put space in between them. “We can’t do this, Vic, what the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Do I really gotta walk you through why it’s ok to kiss a fella?”He answered in a bemused tone. 

“It ain’t that, Swifty!” he said furiously, forgetting to lower his voice. “You think I don’t wanna do that every time I see ya?! You think I've been putting myself through this shit for nothin’? I ain’t meant for romance. And whatever feelings that gave me ain’t exactly exclusive to you either. I couldn’t make no one happy like they want me to. Nothin’ like that will ever work out for me.” He shoved him away, walking a few paces towards the windows. “And how could ya do somethin’ like this to a sweet fella like Bumlets?!” he added, his voice quiet again. 

Swifty was strangely composed, standing straight up with his hands in his pant pockets. It was strange to see his friend like this. Skittery always spent most of his time contemplating everything, analyzing conversations and movements to make sure he was completely understanding what was going on. He never let a thing go misinterpreted. He was better with being told things straight out- it surprised Swifty that a kiss, which to Skittery might’ve meant anything, for once got his point across efficiently. 

“That’s what you’s worked up about? That I kissed you while I still got Bumlets?” He asked, collected despite the fact his heart was still racing. “Me and him have been talkin’, Skits. He likes you too.”

The other boy froze, the words sending a peculiar feeling down his spine. “What do ya mean by that?” 

“I mean he likes ya, I like ya, and we like each other.” He slowly approached him, as if to not startle him away. “I’m sayin’ if you wanna be in on whatever we got going on,” he trailed off, tenderly slipping his arms around his waist again. 

“Ya mean it, Victor? You two…” he mumbled tentatively, his own hands creeping onto his midsection. 

And before he knew it they were kissing again, searing and passionate. It was something that happened on instinct, a thing Skittery didn’t let control him very often. It was as relieving as it was terrifying. 

Skittery pulled away abruptly, responding to Swifty's confused expression by holding a finger to his lips. He peered over him through the darkness at all the boys seemingly still asleep in the next room over. They were too visible for his liking, especially since he knew many of them pretended to be asleep to pry into others' business. 

He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into one of the bathroom stalls, where they whispered little confessions in between long kisses, all the way till light started shining in from under the door and the clamor of waking boys told them they were moments from being discovered.

__________

The next day was gray, with rain that sprinkled heavily on and off. Normally, this would send Skittery into a worse mood than usual, causing him to barely get any papers sold, rather spending his day under shop awnings with the stack over his head. However he barely noticed the rain, and although his mouth was in a tight line and his eyebrows furrowed, there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that he couldn’t get rid of. 

He remembered saying a lot to Swifty the night before, mostly embarrassing, sappy things that he carried on his shoulders with an air of shame. He remembered something about being in love, something about his heart melting when he sees Bumlets, something about him not being able to believe that the two handsomest guys in the lodge liked him. Recalling it made him cringe. He couldn’t believe he would let his guard down like that now that he was out of the moment. 

He knew he had to talk to Bumlets soon and work out his feelings for him as he did with Swifty, but he could barely stand to be in the same room with either of them. He left early, turning away after hearing one of them call his name. He was aware he was just avoiding something that would have to be dealt with eventually. He was no good with feelings, or change for that matter. 

Luckily the opportunity presented itself sooner than he preferred, when he settled on a bench under a damp umbrella in the park. It was a particularly heavy batch of rain, making him shiver no matter how tight he pulled his coat around him. He suddenly felt himself sandwiched by warmth, one of the boys on each side of him. 

“Hey Skits,” he heard Bumlets say, although his gaze stayed fixed on the patch of ground in front of him. “Heard you was bein’ sweet with my fella last night,” he said in an amused tone, hitting his shoulder with his own. 

Skittery felt paralyzed, staying silent as both boys looked at him expectantly. He felt a raindrop snake down his neck and down his collar. 

“Why don’t ya tell Bumlets some of those things you told me last night,” Swifty added once it was clear that he wasn’t going to respond. 

“Won’t you two leave me alone till later,” he finally answered, snapping his head up and looking at the boy on the right. He immediately regretted it. Bumlets’ damp bangs were drooping onto his forehead, his brown eyes illuminated curiously by the  raindrops coming down. His shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing his collarbone dotted with freckles. 

“We ain’t gonna leave you alone, Skits, not with weather as romantic as this!” He motioned wildly with his hand, collecting a few raindrops in his palm before drying it off on Skittery’s knee. “But we also ain’t gonna pressure you or nothin, right Bumlets?” Swifty added. 

Skittery let both boys set their arms around him, although his shoulders were stiff and his face was hot. The three sat there, listening to each other breathing for hours with their arms tangled. The tall boy in the middle indulged himself just a little bit more by the minute, letting himself grow comfortable between them. He knew that's what he wanted. He knew that that’s what he had been dreaming about subconsciously for a lot longer than he cared to admit. It would take time for him to adjust, as it always did for him with new experiences and changes of his life. 

But he was trying to get better at change. Maybe that’s why he let Swifty kiss his cheek, after checking that the rain had driven everyone out of the park. Maybe that’s why he let Bumlets take his waist and kiss him softly, when the moment felt right. And that’s why they walked back to the lodge, shivering, with their arms still hooked around each other, the tallest boy feeling on top of the world.

[beingdreeyore]

I called in sick today. Four nights of no sleep meant I just didn't have it in me.

The house we lived in back in that little town is completely submerged. Where once there were houses, there is now a raging river. For several blocks the water is so deep that you can't see even a single sliver of rooftop. Friends from that town lost their homes and all their possessions yesterday. The physio tells me he is safe, his property dry, but his practice was very near our house and so is completely destroyed.

The rainfall is moving south and the other two towns I worked in are either underwater or preparing to go under. I think of that voice on the phone from the early hours of Saturday morning and find myself praying it doesn't move so far south as to hit the town where his family live. His hometown. Hasn't their family been through enough without adding that to their pain? And then I caught myself, I'd prayed.

When was the last time I prayed? Do I even still believe? How desperate am I to protect him that I would resort to praying? It's been so long since God and I spoke anything other than angry words that I doubt he'd listen...

But I prayed.

I woke up knowing that I just needed to chat about everything with someone who would reserve judgement, someone who could see the grey area in it all, so I sent a text to my clinical psychologist asking if she had capacity today.

13 minutes later we were on a zoom call.

I talked to her about all the shame, the rejection, and the sense that I was being punished that has come up for me since he blocked my number. The confusion at not knowing what it was I'd done that had led him to take such drastic action. How I would respect his choice, even though it is painful as hell as it feels like being left by him again. It feels like I must have let him down spectacularly for him to take that step.

I told her how I had sent him an email though, no writing attached, just a screenshot of contact details he had asked for on that phone call. It had seemed genuinely important to him, so I'd sent them. I had gone back and forth on it, as I was worried he'd misinterpret it given he may not even remember that part of the conversation, but it still felt like I needed to honour his request. If I could do that, then I could respect his decision knowing I'd done what he asked of me. Otherwise if I didn't send them it would be just another way I'd let him down.

And I told her how confusing it was to have been happy he'd reached out. To have taken some sort of comfort in knowing that he'd known that even when I was hurting, I was still always prepared to hold space for him if he needed it. How proud I was of him that he'd gone to talk to someone about everything but how sad that I never got to tell him that. How disappointed that he'd reached to me for help but then shut me out so conclusively.

I told her how I wasn't angry with him for the rejection, just sad, because it all feels very messy right now. It feels like complicated grief. It feels like someone doing the best they can in some sort of noble way that only they understand. It feels like he needs people around him.

She validated me and told me it was okay to have been so relieved to hear his voice. That it was okay to feel a contentment in knowing that he'd reached for me. And okay to not be angry that he'd reached out, even when it got so messy over something so simple. Understandable to feel incredible sadness at the pain he must be in.

She told me a similar story about someone who had blocked her without a sign that's what was coming. How she'd been hurt but continued on with her life. Refusing to enter into a game of proving her love, if that's what it was. Months later he had contacted her and apologised, explaining that his motivation was that it was the only way he had known how to not contact her. That he'd seen it as a responsible thing to do; his way of protecting her. If she'd reached out to check on him, he wouldn't have been able to keep it as a brief interaction.

It made me wonder... Is that what he was doing? Did he block me because he knows he is still happier with her and he doesn't have those feelings for me? Or did he block me because of how easy it would be right now to accept my offer of an ear to listen and shoulder to cry on? How tempting to fall into the same old routine that came so easily to us? Was this some bizarre way of trying to honour me? But that makes no sense, because if his main priority is always me, then why would he pick the other girl? If he blocked me, it must be for her. The one who is the priority. That’s what I tell myself or the whole thing feels too unfair. It would be too unfair if he cared that much about me and it still wasn’t enough.

I feel more settled though. Less "crazy." More understanding of why being blocked led to such a massive internal explosion of emotions. I miss him. But I've been honouring his choice for four months now and I will continue to. It's bittersweet to realise that despite those four months of separation, my feelings for him haven't changed. He's still the first person I want to tell things to. And it all feels a lot harder now that I've been blocked, because it communicates so clearly how much he doesn't ever want to be that person for me.

[rhmg-au]

Prequel part 1.

Thinking of some endings for the final confrontation, would try to get them out once I complete the prequel first.

This AU belongs to @rhmg-au . Please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.

TW: Torture, blood, gore, restraints

(Mod Swanno: Edited with the read more option due to length and content!)

Eyes fluttered rapidly in the dark, the aching pain ran rampant throughout his entire body, the tears in his uniform exposing his skin to the coldness in the room from the lack of heat inside. Two figures seem to be in front of him, chatting with one another.

He let out an involuntary groan of pain, causing the two to turn to them. They look familiar.

“Awake already, Price? Thought you’d be knocked out for at least for few more hours.”

At that statement, the memories flooded back to him, as if he was in the sea in the middle of a big storm, only he was alone on a boat, the lighting and crashing waves wanting to throw him off the only thing keeping him from drowning.

The fighting, the snapping, the discovery.

———

A knock was heard on his door, he was in one of the rooms made for soldiers who needed to rest after a tiring mission or just stay for a break from their duties. His mind was wandering in its own little world, trying to think of ways to get rid of that monster he calls his general, he’s not noble anymore, after what he witnessed him doing to a Toppat, though he is a criminal, it was still so cruel to strip him of his memories and forcefully turn them to their side, and how it was carried out was…too brutal to watch or even hear for that matter. How could he live with himself after such a heinous act?

Those thoughts were carried to the back of his mind when that sound caused by a hand repeatedly hitting the door from the other side to get someone else’s attention inside.

“Rupert? May I come in?”

It’s him, it’s time to play the role of the actor again.

“You may, general.”

Galeforce entered the room as soon as the request to come inside was approved by the soldier, closing it behind him. His smile looked so normal that no one would ever guess that he did so many terrible acts behind that mask.

“What is it you need, sir?” Rupert asked, straightening his posture, and making sure to wipe his face clean from any form of an expression full of hatred. He cannot reveal his true feelings towards the man, or anyone for that matter. They can be loyalists to him, blinded by their duties to ever consider siding with him. No one is safe to talk to about his issues.

“Are you…actually loyal to the government, Mr. Price? I was informed by Dr. V that you were acting quite strange these past few days, and she has a suspicion that you’re a traitor.”

These words caught Rupert off-guard. They knew? How…how could they know? He thought he hid it so well, concealed it from everyone, how, just how?! Did someone snitch on him? “I, I am loyal sir. I was just thinking about my next missions those past days is all.” He was praying that he would buy it, he couldn’t risk to be found out of his resent. He knew it wouldn’t be anything but bad.

“Then tell me…do you know about the latest piece of technology we developed?” What was that supposed to mean? Naively, he shook his head, realizing too late that he made a crucial mistake by doing that.

Galeforce’s smile contorted into a smirk, one that is full of malice. That never meant good, at all. “A device that allows us to know who is lying by just hearing their words and their tone. Think of it like a lie detector, but a better version.” He took out the little gadget, the design was rather basic, just a square shaped piece of metal with antennas sticking out, a screen was visible with lines rapidly going up and down. Such a simple yet complex device. And it’ll be used for an occasion like this. “It’s still in the alpha stages, consider yourself honoured since you’re the first one we’re using to test it.” He took a good look at the lines. “And would you look at that, judging by the way the lines are moving, it detected that you’re lying.”

“No, no sir, are you sure it’s just a misinterpretation? An error?” Rupert knew that he was screwed, yet he still tries to deny it. Anything to get him out of this situation. Anything.

“Sorry to say, Price, but Dr. V told me these lines represent when someone is lying. It is no bug for sure.”

That was the answer he was dreading to hear.

“Now, do you remember what happens to those who are traitors? Or, for you, a potential traitor? You have quite the disdain for me, and that leads to backstabbing.” Galeforce pocketed the device, that grin turning sadistic now.

There was nothing left to hide. He saw through his facade, and now he has the information that he harbours distaste for him.

“You really think I would let something like that slide? What you did was absolute torture! How could you consider yourself to be human after what’d you done?! He may have been a Toppat, but you didn’t have to go to the extreme! What the hell is wrong with you?! Did you even think about how the Toppats feel?! That you took away someone who was so valuable to them, both personally and usefully, did you ever consider that?! Tell me, was there a time you even felt some sympathy?!” He couldn’t contain his rage anymore, he had to snap. It was in there for too long for him to ever hold it back, he may hate the Toppat Clan, but even he couldn’t deny that what Galeforce did crossed the line.

Galeforce didn’t responded, instead he took a step forward. Then another one. His face blank, showing no emotion, no care, no concern, no astonishment, no happiness, only apathy. Before he eventually leapt out and attacked him, like a wild animal would when it sees potential prey.

Rupert didn’t hesitate to fight back, both of them knocked to the ground. He raised his hand to counteract the opposing one ready to strike, catching it in time before it could land a hit on his face. Immediately afterwards, he caught the other hand that threatened to finish what the other arm wanted to begin.

“You could’ve been a valuable soldier here, had you not raise this hatred inside of you.” Galeforce taunted, ripping his hand out of his grasp and grabbed his hair that still stuck out from his hat, pushing his head forward.

“What was I supposed to do? Watch you turn someone into a relentless slaughtering puppet to do your dirty work? That isn’t how anything should go!” Rupert gave him a hard punch, directly on the nose. He wasn’t sure if he broke it, but blood poured out from the openings, a good indicator to confirm his suspicions.

Galeforce didn’t get knocked out, though the sudden punch to the face disoriented him for a few seconds, giving the resentful soldier enough time to rip himself out of his grasp and push him off, making a break for it to the door.

He didn’t make it, because of course he didn’t.

He was yanked back by his uniform, the grasp so tight and so harsh that he felt the cloth made to create this suit tear, and before he knew it, he was thrown against the wall, black starting to tease around the edges of his eyes from how hard his head hit the concrete.

“It’s the least I could do, trust me, I would do much worse.” Blood dripped down from his nose, staining the floor with the crimson substance.

“I don’t need to see them to know you’re a horrible person. I’ll beat the shit out of you and I’ll expose you and your heinous deeds.” Rupert shakily got up, it was rather hard when you’re close to blacking out from a strong hit on the head, but it was manageable.

“Still being cocky as ever? That’s biggest downside to you, always so certain you can do everything no matter how impossible it may seem. How cute.” Galeforce’s smirk increased in size as he approached him, taking him by the neck and lifted him off the ground, feet barely touching the floor. The soldier threw his hands onto the wrist of the general, suffocation is very likely if he was not released soon.

“It’s…not impossible…to get you…dismissed…” With his windpipe blocked, air couldn’t get inside to his lungs, affecting his breathing and speaking abilities.

“Dismissed? Why, so many ridiculous ideas run through your mind these past few days huh?” Galeforce released his grip on Rupert, letting him fall to the floor gasping for breath for a moment.

“They’re…logical…not ridicu…lous…” Regaining his strength albeit a bit slowly, he threw his fist at the general, aiming for his chest. The sleeve on the arm of his clenched hand was caught, yanking him to his feet so violently that another tear was made in his uniform, as well as causing pain to his arm due to how hard it was pulled, almost out of its socket. It took all of his willpower and gritting his teeth to not scream from the pain travelling up the limb.

“You must be forgetting that I’m a general, the public believes me as a good-intentioned nobleman who brings criminals to justice. Nothing can ever convince them otherwise.” Galeforce brought his face close to the soldier’s, letting him see that wicked grin close up, which only succeeded in letting his glare darken. He took ahold of his arm, tightening the grip instantly, as an attempt to prevent escape.

“Not if I get evidence, your acts are inhumane, no one deserves a fate like that.” Rupert spat, bringing his knee up and kicking him right in the stomach, using all of his strength in that one blow.

This action caused Galeforce to stumble back, releasing his grip on his arm in the process. Taking this opportunity, the soldier opened up the door, running out of the room. He needed to get out of here, now.

The attempt at escape didn’t work, as the general caught up with him easily, sending him crashing to the floor as he felt a heavy weight fall onto his body, He looked up, the black around his eyes more prominent.

Before his irises could see who was there, even though he already knew who, a fist collided with his head, causing the void in his eyes to finally take over.

The last thing he remembered before blacking out were these words:

“Really thought you could get away? Now, you’ll face the consequences.”

———

Everything was made clear now.

“What is this place?” His voice sounded weak, probably from the lack of water. “Are you going to robotize me like Green? Is that it?”

“No, something much worse. But now that you mentioned it, it would be a great idea. For now though, we have something else planned.” Galeforce answered, that grin so sinister it might as well be considered taking a spot on the most evil smiles list, if one was created that is.

“I would like to turn you into walking weapon, but I still need to monitor Green for the time being. Consider yourself lucky.” Dr. V added, sharing the same smirk as the one on Galeforce.

Rupert tried to throw a fist in either of their faces, but when he did, his hand never moved. Instead, he was greeted with the coldness of a metal cuff holding his hand down on one of the arms of the chair he was sitting in. It’s likely his other wrist was also in the same state as his left one. Though it should’ve been expected, it still shocked him. He was being restrained.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that you aren’t going to be able to leave. You’ll spend the rest of your days here rotting away while we make you realize just how stupid you are to doubt my acts of protection.” Galeforce informed, as if the feeling of the bindings on his wrists weren’t made clear to him enough.

“Protection?! You call that protection?! You hurt someone beyond the point of acceptance and you call that protection?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Despite his throat hurting after such an outburst, Rupert called him out on that statement of absurdity. Still thinking he’s a hero after everything? Even criminals don’t deserve that happening to them.

“It’s for the greater good. Besides, would you want a cyborg to be roaming free with those crooks?”

“He’s still human!”

“Criminals aren’t humans if they don’t have morals.”

“And you aren’t human if you feel no sympathy for them! Think about the hardships they went through that forced them to turn to crime and we never noticed! If anything, it’s the government’s fault!”

“…Dr. V, do your work.”

“Yes, sir.”

The blonde took out a pair of surgical scissors from her lab coat, walking over to the soldier, who is now struggling in the cuffs that held him in a one spot.

“Let’s begin the lesson, shall we?” Dr. V said, holding the surgical scissors over his face for a moment before snipping a part of his skin with them, blood immediately dripping out from where she made the cut.

Rupert grounded his teeth together, not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction of hearing him in such pain. He knew it would only bring more trouble if he gave them the reaction they wanted to hear, so no screaming. Just endure the pain all enough for something else to occur that causes them to leave. Like boredom or duties.

When no strong reaction came from the soldier, Dr. V dug the blades of the scissors deeper into his flesh, sliding it along slowly and painfully, intending to stop at his cheek if no signs of a scream comes soon. This was only the beginning. The next stages are much, much worse.

Despite the fiery pain growing inside of him from the scissors digging into his skin, Rupert still didn’t give them what they wanted out of him. His teeth were gritted so tightly together to suppress it the best he could. Blood started to leak into his mouth, that metallic taste made clear from the get go. He has to stay strong, this wasn’t the worse thing that happened to him. Seeing Dave getting fired and him going missing were much worse than experiencing torture…

Nothing, no reaction. “You’re stronger than you look. Impressive, but not too impressive.” The doctor pocketed the now bloodied scissors back into her lab coat, the remains of the crimson substance staining the white colour of the garment. She then took out a scalpel, this time instead of his face, she targeted his arm, plunging the sharp edge of the blade onto his shoulder.

The soldier bit down on his bottom lip as to let his teeth rest from the pressure they were under from grinding against each other for so long. Blood slipped out from the bottom lip due to how hard he was biting down on it, the metallic taste more prominent now.

Dr. V’s face contorted into frustration. “Don’t bother trying to hide your pain.” She advised, taking the scalpel out from his shoulder, that crimson substance affecting colour of the metal to make this surgical tool, now just like the scissors sitting inside of her lab coat. She clenched her hand into a fist and made it collide with his cheek, the one that isn’t soaking with blood from the cut. The force in the punch was hard, bound to create a bruise.

Rupert felt his head snap to the side momentarily, causing him to quickly look back to the woman in front of him. “How do you call this revenge if you only really want the Toppats?”

“Anyone who sides with Toppat Clan is called revenge.” Dr. V answered, making an incision on both of his wrists as he spoke, acting and speaking nonchalant about it. “I told you, masking your pain would make things worse. Cooperate with us.”

“You just need to give him a little push in the right direction. As I said before, he’s as stubborn as Green when he was a Toppat.” Galeforce said, his first words in a while.

“And how do you suppose we shove him where we want him to go?”

“Allow me to handle it. I’ve known him for quite a while now.”

The general stood in front of Rupert after Dr. V backed away. He leaned in close to him, whispering something in his ear, his breath causing a shiver to run down his spine. Surprisingly, his eyes widened at what was said, horror written all over his expression.

“Y-you, no you couldn’t-”

“Don’t worry, I trust him enough. But if I find out he’s been going behind my back…”

“Don’t you fucking hurt him! It’s me who you’re mad at, so just do whatever the hell you want with me but leave him alone!”

“I will take action if that’s the case, and what can you do in your current state?”

“This.” Rupert lifted his legs up and slammed them into Galeforce’s chest, the general taking a few steps back due to the impact. Man that hurt…

He looked up after a few seconds, Dr. V coming by his side to check if he had any injuries, pocketing the scalpel beforehand. “Chain his legs too. I’m not letting this happen a second time.” He checked his belt and took a pair of handcuffs from them, handing them out to her.

Dr. V nodded hastily, snatching the restraints quickly and cuffed the soldier’s ankles to the legs of the chair, despite his trashing interrupting some of the progress. “There we go.”

“Someone will find me here, and you’ll regret all of your actions.” Rupert promised, the glare so dark you could probably see a shadow brooding across his face. He’d struggled for a little bit more before giving up, the burning pain playing a part in why he stopped.

“You are in basement of lab, no one knows of this.” Dr. V said, immediately crushing any hope that he may have. Green most likely doesn’t know of this too. “Let’s continue now, shall we?”

Before she could pull out the blood covered scalpel however, Dr. V was stopped by the sound of beeping. “One sec.” She took out the communicator she brought down here, in case of the event someone made a call to her while they were doing what they were doing.

“Hello, this is Dr. Vinschpinsilstien speaking, how could I be of service?”

Rupert saw this as an opportunity, an opportunity to get outside help. It doesn’t matter who it is, the Twins, Victoria, Hayden, Charles or even Green, he can get out of here if he just yells at the communicator. He hated asking for assistance for anything, if he had to be honest, but at this moment, he needed help, he can’t escape by himself.

He was about to shout, to scream, to cause a scene to get the attention of whoever is there, but at the last second, his mouth was harshly covered by Galeforce, both hands were on him to block out his cries for help. Still, he called out anyway, muffled by the hands on his mouth, barely creating any noise.

“…Ah yes, I will be at the lab Green, just come along and I’ll attend to you.” The line cut off soon after Dr. V finished her call with the cyborg.

The opportunity passed…gone.

Galeforce released his hands from Rupert’s mouth as soon as the call was finished, allowing him to take in deep breaths and finally talk properly. “I’ll…I’ll scream down here and…Green will hear me. It doesn’t matter that he’s rewired, he will notice that something’s wrong with me down here.”

“And that is why you shouldn’t speak so soon.” Dr. V said, taking a piece of cloth out from her lab coat, using it as a gag as she wrapped it around his mouth, muffling his words once again. As soon as she finished tying the knot, she and Galeforce left for the door, opening it up to reveal stairs, his only way to freedom if he can get out from this stupid chair. Light temporarily pouring into the room as it was opened up, but soon it was closed, denying any  light from projecting itself into the room, leaving him in the darkness again.

What now?

———

Every passing day was torturous.

Literally.

Beating after beating, his blood spilling out from his system, eventually creating blood stains on the floor, chair and his uniform. The smell of the dried up crimson substance still lingered.

Any cry for help was muffled from the gag, guaranteeing that no one could ever find him here while Galeforce and Dr. V continued to teach him the lesson.

Every gash, every bruise, he even got some broken bones some days.

Whenever they went away, he cried and cried to himself, tears mixing in with the dried blood that stains his face. His spirit breaking down everyday. He still held onto hope, but it seems his grasp on it is fading away slowly.

“Someone…please…find me…I can’t hold out for much longer…”

[wolint]

THE BIBLE!

THE BIBLE

2 Timothy 2:15

 

There are many Christians who don’t own a bible, they’ll rather read e-bibles or not at all. While some have decided it’s too much work to carry a bible around, preferring to use online bibles too and a minority of those who have, prefer easy, yet not necessarily good translations.

As much as it pains me to state this, the bible has been tampered with, updated, upgraded and modified to suit today’s society. Sadly, this means that there are a lot of things that are contrary to God’s original word, message and instructions to humanity.

Essentially, some bibles are now “woke”!

This is why we must study the bible diligently, intentionally and applicably.

To deepen our understanding of Scripture involves a combination of study, prayer, and practice. Studying the Bible is a rewarding and enriching experience, but we must pray for Understanding: Before beginning our Bible study, for Spiritual guidance in understanding the Scriptures.

Regularly reading the bible and making it a routine creates consistency, a key to deepening our understanding.

It’s important to consider the historical and cultural context of the passages we’re reading. Without this context, it’s easy to misinterpret the meaning and read out of context.

Do not skip! Skipping Around: While it’s fine to focus on specific books or passages, try not to skip around too much. Especially if you’re a beginner, no information is useless because understanding the Bible can help us see the bigger picture.

And there’ no point rushing through the Bible. This is a complex book, and it takes time to understand its teachings. Don’t rush through your reading. Take the time to reflect on what you’ve read and pray into it.

Don’t be one of the people who ignore the Old Testament: Some people focus solely on the New Testament, but the Old Testament is equally important. It provides the foundation for the teachings in the New Testament.

Remember, studying the Bible is a journey. Be patient with yourself, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.

This is where bible commentaries come in. Bible commentaries can provide valuable insights into the historical and cultural context of the passages you’re reading.

Look for or buy into a good, sound and bible-content bible classes, or join a Bible Study Group: Discussing the Bible with others can offer new perspectives and deepen your understanding.

When reading and studying the bible, it’s important to look for God withing the scriptures and not us. As clearly stated in Jeremiah 29:13. The more you read and study, the closer you draw to God and the more He reveals Himself to you.

The more we read and study, the less we rely solely on others’ interpretations to understand and apply the bible: While Bible commentaries and study guides can be helpful, it’s important to form our own understanding of the Bible. Pray for wisdom and discernment as you read.

And learn to memorize scripture verses as this can help us internalize the teachings of the Bible and fight spiritual battles according to Ephesians 6:10-18.

Above all, apply the teachings of the Bible in your daily life. This can make the Scriptures more meaningful to you.

Use a Study Bible: A study Bible includes notes and explanations that can help clarify difficult passages.

Seek Guidance: Don’t hesitate to ask your pastor or a trusted spiritual mentor for guidance if you’re struggling with a particular passage or concept.

Not Applying What You Learn: The Bible is meant to be a guide for life, so, don’t read for the sake of reading. As you read, think about how the teachings apply to your own life.

Where and when possible, always meditate on the scripture. meditation is a powerful way to deepen our understanding of God’s Word and apply it to our lives.

Remember the bible is not just a book but a library giving us all topics and messages that helps us live right.

PRAYER: Lord, thank you for giving me the bible and the Holy Spirit as my instructor, help me to read and study to show myself approved of you in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

[knight-of-the-thorn]

Correspondence Re: Wyld Hunt.

You know, a lot of content between Arc and Tia has ended up as letters somehow, but this was the first one I wrote.

A discussion between the Knight of The Briars and a lower ranked Nightmare Courtier, regarding the delivery a breakup letter.

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

Theitia sized up the messenger who had burst into her quarters, lips pursed in contempt and confusion. She was small enough in stature, not cutting a particularly intimidating figure by any standards, but the barely restrained tension on the messenger's face showed he knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of.

"You're here… to deliver… my mail?" She repeated.

"Yes, my lady." he held out an envelope, carefully sealed with a lump of violet wax.

"And who, pray the fuck tell, is sending mail to our lovely little sect of suffering and unholy darkness? And may I enquire as to, why exactly they are sending mail to a sect of suffering and unholy darkness? And furthermore why an agent of said sect saw fit to deliver this mysterious mail, interrupting whatever important business I, an important cog in our dark machinations, the executor of our grand duchess Faolain's every will, may have been attending to at the time?"

He shifted uncomfortably "Well, uh, you see, it's from… Firstborn Caithe's Apprentice?"

She tilted her head quizzically "Caithe's- Arceidai? Arceidai gave you a letter."

He nodded "Yes, my lady, they…. Infiltrated one of our bases earlier tonight and accosted me with the letter. They got away too quickly for us to catch them, and we assumed you'd want to be the first to read it. Sorry if that was presumptuous-"

"Give me a moment. My deepest apologies are in order, I must have misinterpreted your words somewhere. The situation you have described to me here, is that my sworn enemy, one of the blighted mother tree's most dangerous and valiant warriors against our cause and everything we stand for, entered your camp and gave you a letter. Your first instinct upon seeing this was to deliver that letter for them."

"Well, my lady that's putting it in a very-"

"Not to chase them down?"

 "We tried to but they-"

"To come back basically empty handed with a fancy piece of paper?"

"Do you want it or not?" He brandished the envelope in exasperation.

Theitia stopped talking, distracted from her tirade. After a moment, curiosity got the better of her, and she snatched it from him "... We'll have this discussion later, impertinence isn't a look that suits you particularly well."

He rolled his eyes as he let go. Theitia carefully broke the seal. With every word her eyes seemed more intently fixated on the page, curiosity giving way to a blank intensity. He wondered if she forgot he was even there.

Finally, her gaze rested on a single phrase. 

After what felt like an age, without looking up she spoke in a quiet, indiscernible tone.

"Get out."

"Pardon?"

"Leave. Now. Get out." Her cadence remained controlled, with a hint of some feeling seeping out from beneath. He didn't have time to analyse it, with a flick of her wrist a wreath of fire caught at his feet. The messenger leapt back into the wall, cursing. Without looking back, he bolted out of the room. Obviously he hadn't been leaving fast enough. He didn't want to know what happened if he was any slower.

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

Theitia.

Maybe I'm just being sentimental.

Maybe writing this is stupid. You probably don't even care. I'm sure I don't mean anything to you any more, other than a cheap source of entertainment. If, deep down, any part of you still considered me your friend, it probably died a long time ago, and the Theitia I knew is gone. Or that's what Caithe says anyways. I hope she's wrong, though she wouldn't lie to me, no matter what you and your creed think. But I still feel like you deserve to know.

I'm leaving Caledon Forest.

One of the Orders of Tyria, the Durmand Priory, has offered me a place among their ranks. Yes, it's still about the Zhaitan thing, and yes, I know what you would say. I can't deny there's something tempting about forgetting that whole thing. There's something, almost fun in some perverse way, about this whole rivalry. It's simple, I understand the situation and where I stand. It isn't messy and complicated like the real world. You do bad things, I stop you. You're evil, I'm good, but the stakes aren't nearly that high.

Well. That's not entirely true. You're part of the nightmare now, and a knight no less, which means you've done horrifying things I don't even know about. I don't like to think about what you've become. I'd say that I want to stop you, but it's not that simple. It's more that I want you to stop. It's funny really, I still don't think I could actually hurt you, even after all this.

 But the thing is, I'm not content to just stay and play pretend at being the hero and the villain. I can't do this anymore. You know what it feels like to have a Wyld hunt. That insatiable call to action, the nagging in the back of your mind. Telling you to go. It scared you. I guess I didn't get that last time we talked about it. But our Wyld hunt connects me to the world, and calls me to be part of it, it's even given me this opportunity at the priory, which is one of the largest research institutions in Tyria, dedicated to recording and storing history, and using that knowledge to save the world. It's everything I've ever wanted. It's exciting in a way I can't really describe. I'll be able to learn so many new things, and use those things to help so many people. I can be a hero. I can see the world. I can save the world.

 You never got why I wanted that. But I can't stand idle knowing that there's this destruction in the world that I can stop. It's not just because the dream wishes it, it's because people are being hurt and someone needs to do something, before these elder dragons destroy us all. I was created to kill Zhaitan. If I fail to even try, what am I? 

What I'm saying is I can't stay, even if it meant I could save you. I recognize that I can't help you if you don't want to be helped, and I'm not sure I could ever bring myself to kill you. I'll always care about you, even though you hate me. At very least, considering how much you did to torment me, specifically, I'm assuming it was hatred, or at least some kind of cruel spite. You always insisted that I accept that you no longer cared about me. I'm still not sure if I believe you, but you haven't exactly given me a choice, other than to come to terms with the fact that I will never get you back.

You could come with me Tia. If any part of you still cares. I wouldn't even ask that you help me fight or complete your Wyld Hunt. Just that you give up on causing all this suffering. You want to be your own person. Deep down you know that the nightmare won't help with that. You're still just doing what someone else tells you to. The only difference is Faolain has you convinced it's your idea. Please, come with me. You could be away from the Grove, away from the dream, and forge your own path. We could be friends again. We would be together, and that would be all that mattered to me.

I'll be in Lions Arch on the 43rd day of the Season of Zephyr. I know that you won't be there. I have to ask though. An invitation to join me is simply the last chance I feel I need to extend to you. 

This letter will be my final correspondence.

Forever your Sunshine,

Arceidai.