#the concept of body and mind being separate is simply wrong. they are one and the same
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who am I. what am I. why am I here. why was I put here. who put me here. what is the reason for my existence. how am I moving. how am I breathing. how am I talking. how am I eating. how am I feeling. how do I understand what I'm saying. how do other people understand what I'm saying. what is going on. what is this body and what is its purpose
#everything is logical but that logic can't explain the one question I have and have always had#why?#what is the reason for my existence#everything has meaning#so what is mine?#I learnt to predict the unpredictable#I understood very early on that nothing is insignificant in the grand scheme of things#so what is mine??#we're bound by our nature#by instincts by fears by illness by our subconscious#we think we have a choice. we believe our thoughts are ours#but they're not#they're predetermined#every single human behavior can be traced back to certain events#the concept of body and mind being separate is simply wrong. they are one and the same#we only try to separate them because the thought that we are nothing more than elaborate machines#is incredibly painful to bear#the more the human mind learns about itself the further it implodes#we're incredibly predictable
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Eldritch Sacrifice
Remember how I promised that I had a separate Korangi idea if SoapGhost arranged marriage one? And then I had you guys do a poll because I had two? Well here's one of them!!
Also, CW: dubcon. Horangi is into it, however he is initially agreeing due to a gamble they're making
König stretched and groaned. His little cult were chanting for him again and he wondered what they could possible be about to ask for now. Money? Food? More warm bodies to lay with? They just kept asking and whether he delivered or not, they always had something wrong.
Destroy the economy so their money is worth more? Bad move.
Mutate the crops and trees until they were full of, hopefully edible, fruit? Bad move.
Make fleshy wooden creatures that were warm and had holes to fuck but weren’t completely human? Awful move. He gave some of them “nightmares” whatever those were. Apparently they were like his dreams. But scary. König thought all dreams were scary therefore separating the two felt stupid.
“Master.” One of them cried and he winced.
“Yes…… little one?” His voice crashed and croaked and twisted the boards beneath him.
The brave one continued to speak. “We have noticed your displeasure with us. You are displeased.”
König wanted them to leave. He had half a mind to obliterate them however they were at most an annoyance. “And you plan to rectify this?”
“Yes. Today, we have brought you something to lift your spirits. A rarity.”
This did not pique his interest very much. Humans considered certain rocks to be valuable because they were rare on earth. He had seen planets that rained diamonds. With sculptures that made their small rings look puny. Universes surrounding shards of glass older than the very concept of bones.
“Maybe he suit your interests.”
“He?”
A small man. Only a little over six foot, which may be big for a human but was only hand sized to him, lay kneeling. Throat exposed.
He was… a man. It wasn’t until he locked eyes with König so easily, able to look through the shivering, horrid mass of flesh and tentacles and black dripping darkness and see König. Their eyes stayed locked on each other.
“An abomination. A man able to perceive that which should not be perceived.” The knife was put to his throat. “Horangi. Tiger. May your blood finally give our Master solace-”
“Wait.” König shouted, regretting it when the man’s face became so pained.
A tiniest of sounds ripped from his throat. A tiny gasp of pain that had König’s thoughts scrambling in a way he could only assume was similar to how human’s did when he messed with them.
“I do not want his death.”
“You are so right sir! It would be too swift.” They backed away quickly. “Is this a pleasing sacrifice?”
Horangi finally showed a hint of fear. Giant brown eyes staring up at him. König could not hear his thoughts, he was an interdimensional being, not psychic. But he could practically feel the anxiety and see the gears turning as he no doubt imagined what König could do to him.
Horangi had a gift, sure. An ability to avoid those eldritch abominations and to see them for what they were. But it also meant he did not have the escape of insanity. His mind was meant to take the horrors of König. Unable to go fully mad.
A perfect plaything.
König reached down, hand gently grasping Horangi. He picked him up, letting him struggle and writhe as the chains tangling him simply snapped. Not an ounce of pressure sat on his skin, König simply picked him up with ease. Horangi stared at him. Breath quickened.
“What do you ask for?”
The Brave One spoke up again. “We ask for fertility.”
“All of you will have happy, healthy children.”
“....human children?”
“Yes, all human.” König sank back into the walls and back into his dimension, taking his prize with him.
Horangi shivered and König quickly fixed the temperature, making sure it was optimal for humans.
A sacrifice.
Finally, something interesting.
Dead lambs and black cats were all good and well (all of which he put in dimensions perfectly suited for them) but they were… well.
Not human.
Humans were interesting. Attractive. And capable of delicious emotions that most other creatures didn’t bother developing. What use does a bug have for anxiety? Existential dread?
Horangi shivered in his arms again, clearly not from the cold. König dropped him into a pool of soft. Not material that was soft, but the very idea of softness.
“What do you think of when you see me?”
Horangi hummed. “What do you want me to feel?”
König… folded. From Horangi’s point of you, it looked like crumbling paper as he sank to Size where they were a bit more level. He was still taller, close to seven feet, but his little sacrifice needed to be able to look him in the eye. His hand cupped Horangi perfectly, able to taste the way his body spiked. Full of adrenaline and hormones that puppeted his emotions.
“Just like every other human, gift or not. Only able to be subservient. How disappointing.”
Anger. An unexpected emotion that sparked his interest again. “What do you mean by that?”
König shrugged. “You all seem naturally inclined to worship is all.”
Horangi bared his teeth. “Not naturally inclined to worship. Just do not wish to be tortured.”
“Are you suggesting if there was no threat, you would act differently?”
Horangi stilled and König almost assumed he had been right before pausing and thinking. Why would Horangi admit he would act disrespectfully when König could rip him apart atom by atom and keep him alive?
Would König ever do that? Absolutely not. He wasn’t really interested in cruelty. His fellow eldritch beings may love suspending people in eternal agony, but König didn’t. Honestly, he kinda wanted to be left alone most of the time, but Horangi seemed so interesting and he was already there!
“So you feel no need to fall to your knees? To worship? To use your mouth to whisper ancient prayers to me?” König made his voice clear and honest.
Horangi moved oddly. Legs twitching. “No. I don’t.”
He was lying. Not about everything, but about something.
König moved closer, bright blue eyes staring into Horangi’s. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Well. I suppose… I should make you obedient.”
“How? If you tear me apart and remake me, I won’t be the same person. I would be no more obedient.”
Well.
That was a thought.
König pouted. He didn’t consider it pouting, but Horangi did.
“You’re right. If I torture you and break you, it wouldn’t really be you either.”
Horangi nodded quickly. “So you can’t exactly make me obedient.”
König hummed. “Not true. You humans have made dozens of studies on positive reinforcement.”
“And what is my reward? Getting to go back to Earth?”
König fell on Horangi, surrounding him and pinning him between the suddenly hard world. “I’ll show you what your rewards will be. Your punishment will be not getting to finish. I know you humans love nothing more than finishing.”
“F-finishing?”
“Oh. Wait. Consent. That is important. Do I have your consent to try this experiment?”
“If I don’t obey you afterwards, will you return me?”
“Sure.” König thought it was a fun wager. “Just endure and stay surly and mean, and then I’ll bring you home.”
Horangi scoffed. “As if anything you could do would make me listen to your orders.”
König had Horangi on his hands and knees, face pressed to the pillows and ass up. He used one of his tentacles to fuck him and had been doing so for… well, time didn’t really exist. He just knew that for Horangi, it must’ve felt like a really, really long time. Especially since he had not allowed him to cum.
Horangi sobbed into the pillow when the tentacle stopped again. He did not fuck him with any finesse or strategy, working intently on one thing and one thing only which was getting as deep into Horangi as possible. That and trying to stretch him out. The slick from the tentacles had started to drip down Horangi’s thighs. His hole clenched hard around him as another sob ripped out of his throat.
“This is cruel. You fucking-AH.” Horangi cut off as the tentacle pushed in even deeper. His stomach bulged slightly this time and König accidentally brushed the bundle of nerves he had been so careful to avoid because Horangi almost, almost came. König didn’t let him of course. It was super simple, just don’t let his body go through the motions. It had the bonus side of effect of letting Horangi get a taste of the feeling but no physical relief.
König hummed. “I am preparing you. You don’t need to finish yet.”
“This is fucking prep??” Horangi buried his face in his pillows. “I can’t…”
“You can tap out.” König purred. “We can always try again later.”
Horangi scoffed and arched his back, trying to let him in deeper now. “Fuck you. I can… I can…”
“I don’t think you can take it, but you will.” König finally, finally, fucking finally, pulled the slick tentacle out of him, watching both the relief from no longer being so filled and the frustration of not getting fucked to completion.
Horangi didn’t fight when his body was moved around but he did look a little ashamed, especially when he spread his legs a little farther for König to get between them.
His body felt heavenly. Other eldritch creatures were nice and all, but they were just as cold as he was. Humans were among one of the few that could consent to sex and they were also so fucking tight. A vice. He had to be careful though, despite all of his prep, Horangi still hit him to make him stop pushing in.
“Too much. Too big. Fuck. Can’t you shrink down more?” Horangi whimpered.
“Yes. But I checked already. I’m the perfect size for you like this.”
“No. You’re stretching me out so much I…” He trailed off as König pushed right in, making himself perfectly at home. Horangi’s cock twitched and started to leak. “Fuck.” There was a beautiful blush on his face that made him look dazzling. Fragile and whorish.
König felt like he was drowning in Horangi’s unabated arousal. The previous nervousness and protests dying out now. He rocked into his prostate, letting Horangi finally get what he wanted.
The broken gasp that ripped out of him almost made König lose his composure. Of taking Horangi and fucking him like a toy until he finished. But that would hurt him and he didn’t really want to hurt Horangi.
Not when he can get those beautiful little punched out noises.
So he did it again. Feeling him clench and moan around him.
Slow.
Steady. Repeatedly hitting the same spot over and over again and this time, he encouraged Horangi to finish. Wouldn’t let him touch himself of course, but he pushed the right buttons in Horangi’s brain and let him focus on just the sensations until he felt him convulse and shake around him. The feeling of him orgasming around his dick was addicting.
König wanted to feel it again. Technically, he probably could’ve just made him do it again. Or kept him just perpetually there, unable to come down and forced to endure wave after wave of ecstasy until König grew bored of it. But something about making him do it himself, watching Horangi realize he was getting close again just from the sensation of being fucked rather hard by something that barely fit… Too delicious to pass up. He finished inside him, kissing Horangi’s jaw as he did but he didn’t stop moving.
With Horangi so sensitive, it was so easy to get him to finish again and again and again. Human men could come 2-5 times a day but what were limitations like those in a place that simply didn’t have time?
Horangi tried to keep count, but the effort it took to do so was simply too much. All he could do was feel. His sensitive only increased until it was an exquisite type of torture. Every touch, every thrust, every time it felt like Horangi would finally break from it all, he’d sob and beg for something.
“What do you want?” König asked gently, a harsh juxtaposition to the brutal way he was treating Horangi’s body. Cock slamming right into him and tentacles and claws alike digging into him to keep him in prime position.
Horangi considered it. This was a way out. There wasn’t even a caveat. Somehow, they both knew the game was over. Horangi could go home if he asked.
“Keep going.”
König had zero clue exactly how long in any universe that stayed there. Even after he had finally gotten his fill of Horangi’s fluttering body, he kept him to his chest and still filled. Horangi was dead to the world, limp and twitching from after shocks. With a snap, they were clean, but Horangi stayed bruised and a touch sweaty. It was a good look on him.
“How about we call it a tie and have a rematch later?” Horangi wheezed out, still visibly out of breath and spent.
König hummed. “I never did get to use my tongue.”
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🕊️Puella Magi Madoka Magica x Team Fortress 2: Medic and his Witch Form🕊️
word count w/o intro text: 10,651
(Over...two...months...of writing; thank FUCK I've managed to get this all down right on time for Halloween!)
This has been a long time consideration, and, according to one of my last few polls, ya'll really wanted to see how I would interpret Medic's witch form! Well, after a long-time wait, here's the rundown of how Medic's witch would look like in my mind!
Before we start, I highly recommend that you look at the list of trigger warnings present in the tags; the Team Fortress 2 universe, both in-game and outside of it, is no stranger to gruesome elements, so I strongly urge you to take a long look at them before proceeding. If any of the mentioned makes you uncomfortable in whatever form, look away now for the sake of your own health.
As expected, spoilers for Madoka Magica, Kazumi Magica, Tart Magica, Magia Record (especially the anime), and the Team Fortress 2 comics ahead! We are going to talk about one of the many stingers of the Puella Magi universe, after all! On top of that, there will be mentions of Heavy x Medic x Engineer, so if the ship doesn't sit right with you, I must sincerely apologize in advance; it is recommended to click away from this post if said ship is not your cup of tea at all.
With all that being said, let us begin with this mess of an analysis/ficlet post!
-The Wish, Possible Powers, and Soul Gem-
"Oh ho hoh! I have been in zhe wrong profession. I must learn zhis magic!"
Let's be blunt here for a second- he's already laid waste to whatever concept of "morals" present within the human consciousness that would prevent him from furthering his medical and experimental endeavors, and he's done so much without the use of an incubator's powers; from granting his teammates invincibility to bringing them back from the clutches of death. Ludwig's immoral, sickened mind, coupled with his medical skills and treatment of the human body as an art canvas, has allowed him to play God.
On the other hand, though he did align himself with the opposing Classic team for some time within the comics, he explained to the newly-resurrected Sniper that it was purely for financial reasons, and that he never harbored any ill-will towards his teammates. In fact, it would be safe for us to assume that he, in his mind, genuinely cares for his team, and made it one of his missions to turn them into unstoppable killing machines- into gods. He cherishes his fellow mercenaries...albeit in his own twisted, inhumane, and silly way.
Building upon the above, it is also clear that Ludwig is a responsible pet owner and genuinely cares for his doves, especially Archimedes. Yes, he does resort to using animal organs - especially the exotic kind - when fit in order to further his experiments and enhance his teammates' performances, but the contrast between that and his care for the birds is kind of a testament to how he treat other humans - especially the classic team - vs. how he treats the mercs and others close to him. For goodness' sake, he's put Classic Heavy's demands on a back burner and allowed Sniper to escape while he was too busy reviving Archimedes! Ludwig does have a heart and the capacity to care, but not much in terms of morals, if at all.
Wow, he would definitely get along with Alina Gray, huh?
So, right off the bat, it wouldn't be farfetched for Medic to be curious over Kyubey's wish-granting skills; he did make a deal with the Devil himself on two separate occasions within the official Team Fortress 2 comics (though the initial deal's conditions is still unknown to us), after all. How he came to figuring out the existence of the incubators is anyone's guess at this point due to his unpredictable nature, but, in my opinion, it can range from old folklore surrounding the species or simply finding out that one of the mercs had already contracted (my personal bets are either Heavy or Solly). I recommend going off the walls with this one; for all we know, he could have managed to detect spikes in magical activity around the base/island and forced himself into the world of Magi, Witches, and wishes- all the while a certain little bipedal fiend began to showcase an equal amount of interest in him for reasons we are going to dive into soon.
On to the main topic of his wish, it's quite simple, really; it would be related to his hunger for power/knowledge and furthering his research/scientific endeavors; promptly dissipating whatever is limiting his experimental pursuits (maybe even financial, as presented to us in the comics).
Another possible wish that he could have made might be rooted to the bonds he had formed with the mercenaries and the surprisingly deep respect he had shown to each one them on numerous occasions. Such fascination towards his teammates is even presented to us within the beta version of Meet the Medic, where he made his goal of enhancing them and turning them into beings akin to the divine as clear as daylight. I won't deny the fact that this man just keep on finding out new ways to break both the Hypocratic Oath and Geneva Conventions with each passing minute - and it's usually for his own amusement -, but he also seeks to sculpt each mercenary into the best versions of themselves not just as a testament to his own prowess, but also because of his fascination towards them; he just likes those goobers around him and sees the mercs as his fellow pals.
With all that being said, I personally don't believe that whatever power he gained as a result of these wishes would be on a similar caliber as his canonical healing skills; after all, even without Kyubey's interference, he has shown to be exceptionally skilled in his craft to the extent that he had deemed himself to be a god on multiple occasions- and none of them were without reason. Instead, I believe that the core theme of his new magical powers relate to limits- whatever barriers that prevented him from unlocking his and the rest's full potential, and fully dissipating them. Perhaps he can manifest organs, transfer them at high speeds, all the while making his surgeries a little easier for himself. The option of him being able to create little animated "familiars" of his own from the remains of both ally and enemy alike is also there. If you guys have better ideas, please don't hesitate to share; I'll have to admit that this coming up with wish-related powers is a personal weak point of mine, and I will be accepting any and all criticisms coming my way.
Finally, to close this section and move on to the next, I would also like to discuss the matter surrounding his soul gem, and how I would personally interpret it. I am unsure if what I am going to say next has been backed up by canon or not, but a nice detail that I have noticed whilst looking into the soul gems present in canon is that they often correspond with the eye colors of their respective magi; which brings to mind the idea of eyes being the windows to a person's soul. Even if it's not a mandatory rule for when it comes to designing a Magi (especially when we take Nagisa Momoe into account), we can still see this metaphor being at play on numerous occasions throughout the Madoka canons, and where else is it more evident than within Kazumi Magica and the Magia Record anime?
Putting it briefly, aside from just looking at their soul gem, another indicator of a magi's slip into witchhood is by looking into their eyes during their final moments; Michiru Kazusa's sclera turned completely dark as her pupils began to shift into scribbles, and Kuroe - poor, sweet Kuroe - had the same corruption her soul gem was undergoing being displayed from within, you guessed it, her eyes.
So, while I do believe that red could be a nice color for Ludwig's soul gem, as it would also correspond with him being on the RED team - as presented to us on the cover of Fight Songs -, I can also see that a striking blue could also fit our crazy bastard.
As for the emblems present on his soul gem's egg form and its shape upon transformation, I'm gonna be honest; this is gonna be a little more complex than the color part - especially with the soul gems of Tart Magica and Magia Record in mind -, but I will do my best to summarize it to the best of my abilities-
To make this easier for my sanity's sake, the red cross he is already associated with in-game will be present as the emblem on top of his soul gem, though the the one on the middle would probably be based on either his bonesaw, the Ubercharge, a realistic heart (as a tie-in to how the Ubercharge works), or his doves instead. The actual shape his soul gem take on upon transformation, on the other hand, would resemble a large, anatomical heart placed on the center of his chest - connected to the rest of it and his shoulders through glass arteries and veins - due to its sheer size; usually, a magi's soul gem is only large enough to fit within the palm of their hands, while Medic's could be as huge as his curled-up fist or even an ostrich's egg.
The cause behind this peculiarity will be thoroughly explained soon enough, but, for now, let us close this chapter up and move on to the next...
-Descent Into Despair-
Before we kick off this angst fest and start hypothesizing, we're gonna need to take a good look at the nature of the soul and how this ties into the existing similarities shared between Kyubey and Ludwig- yes, this will get wild, especially if you're in only one of those fandoms from the outside looking in, so it's best for you to buckle up, hon, 'cause we in for a fucking joyride.
According to multiple religious and philosophical texts, the soul is a vital, non-physical part of a human being; it is an individual's very core of existence. The soul isn't exactly abstract, per se, as it's believed to actually exist between the lines of this plane of reality and that of the intangible world, and that each person has a unique soul that is distinctly theirs; it is, by definition, metaphysical- that person is the soul, as much as the soul is them.
Despite the limitations placed upon us by the very nature of the soul, it can be treated as a tangible and even physical object within both the TF2 and PMMM canons; in the latter case, Kyubey was able to turn them into magical gems for the sake of both efficiency and "incubation" - the goal of turning his victims into despair-riddled witches that spread the very misery they are drowning in -, all the while, in the Team Fortress universe, they are treated as nothing more than organs that can be removed and then reapplied at will by the very hands of, you guessed it, our very own Ludwig Humboldt for the dual purpose of conning the Devil out of the ownership of his soul and, in turn, extending his own life span.
This brings us back to the very moment where Ludwig made his wish with Kyubey; as presented to us via both Sayaka Miki and Homura Akemi, the process of making a wish and establishing a contract with Kyubey is proven to be quite the painful procedure, as they were able to feel their souls being pulled right out of their bodies by Kyubey in order to remold the very cores of their whole existence into these magical jewels known as Soul Gems; shining with the wishes that bind them to the life of a Magi until they inevitably reach their grisly ends.
Medic, of all people, would absolutely be the first to know exactly how painful it would be to have one's soul be forcefully ripped out of one's own body; he had already done so to 8 other people before grafting the extracted essences into himself. As result of this forced amalgamation, the size of his soul gem would be, as already stated, much larger than average. As for Medic himself and his reaction to his accumulated souls being turned into this grand artifact of magical potential, he would be in a state of shock, awe, and perhaps even a tinge of conflict - from the pain alone, he knew that his souls were tampered with; extracted and reforged -, but they were miniscule when compared to the wave of amazement that washed over him as he held the newly formed symbol of his status as a magi in his hands, shining a brilliant red with the wish he made with the white devil before him.
If Medic had to be honest, he would say, without a shadow of a doubt, that the incubators sure knew what they were doing; despite the tinge of bitterness regarding his souls being torn out of him, it was undeniable that having his life essences be turned into an all-powerful jewel was rather efficient, especially when stranded within the chaotic, unforgiving battlefield. Besides, this deal not only granted him what he desired most in life, but it unlocked a whole new world for him to explore; the realm of the witches.
After his first witch hunt went off without a hitch, he looked at his soul gem...yes, it had dimmed a little, and, according to his newly-formed, four-legged acquaintance, its brightness reflected what magic he had left; the very power he had gained from their infernal deal. This knowledge, combined with the grief seed taking in the impurities he had accumulated, had sparked inspiration within him, and, inevitably, that little glimmer turned into a raging, uncontrollable wildfire.
As his lips curled into that deranged smile of his, he arrived to the conclusion that he needed to research both his soul gem and these otherworldly monsters. Oh, was he was ever-so excited; a whole new world of possibilities had unveiled before him! He knew he had to learn more about these witches, for they were prime candidates for new observations and experiments...
Besides, if things were to go awry, he would have his backup plans as safeguards. He looked at the large jewel on his desk, its light reflecting on his glasses, with a look of complete confidence- after all, he was Ludwig Humboldt, the RED team's medic; he had already played the classic team like the money-hungry fools they were, defied all known laws of life, death, and nature on the regular, and bested the Devil in his own game! What bases of morality and human decency were little more than etches on the wall to him, and he was willing to go above and beyond to ensure his own and the rest's survival.
He cackled; oh, there was no need for any worries, my friend! Whatever that may come to pass, he shall find a workaround. So, with his lips curling into that toothy smile of his, he went to work-
Just like clockwork, it didn't take long for his signature obsession to dig its talons; day by day, he would salvage what parts of these unfathomable creatures and bring them back to his infirmary- even going as far as to capture their familiars and the smaller witches to bring back. After all, killing these wicked creatures outright would just cause them and their barriers to fade away, so he had to think of workarounds in order to harvest as much useful parts of them as he could.
All that, and that is without even getting into the details of the bargain he had made with the little pale ferret- why, that rascal Kyubey could be considered a new good friend of his in his eyes! He had even experimented on the bipedal fiend, and the Incubator held no grudge towards the quack doctor (hence how he came into the knowledge of his entire species and the fact that they were a hivemind). Back on topic- yes, the contract in itself was agonizing, there was no denying that, but at least he had gained a myriad of benefits from their mutual agreement.
Yet, as the saying goes, the higher they soar, the harder they fall.
Within every enforced law and in every deal made, loopholes were an inevitability- Ludwig and Kyubey knew that all too well as the roles of the recipient and contractor respectively. Time and curiosity have worked hand-in-hand in order to nurture their individual experiences and wisdom surrounding this unwritten rule of the universe. As several blazing days turned into howling nights, Ludwig's intrigue towards the limitations set before him as both a mercenary and a Puer Magi grew; his souls being turned into a singular, portable trinket was effective, yes, especially with the magic he had gained and his more than impressive healing abilities making both jobs a lot more easier, but, of course, so much could go wrong in the long run-
Ah, and these witches- at this stage, he had accomplished what many had deemed to be either impossible or far too risky; lining up the walls of his laboratory, amongst the butchered appendages and organs of their kin, were the captured forms of smaller witches and familiars- some were still struggling to be set free, while the others have resigned themselves to their fates. Whenever Ludwig wasn't on either battlefields or experimenting on his teammates, he would be slicing and chopping these poor souls away- trying to see how they functioned, or even analyzing their individual reactions to his little tests. Each of these curse-driven monstrosities' very existence brought forth a cluster of enigmas that only Ludwig could unravel, and the answer to these riddles must be tied to the very core of these beings- whether we're talking about how they would function as a living organism...or their grief seeds.
Besides...in his mind, there was nothing wrong with getting a few more benefits for yourself, was there? So long as such a possibility could help him continue on with both his life and work without any worries over the unknown, he was willing to take that chance. He was more than willing to rise up in the face of these hindrances- even if it took nearly pushing his soul to its breaking point, or unleashing what horrors mankind is not ready for once he manages to crack open a grief seed, he was certain he would find his way through this maze.
Unfortunately, his trickery of the devil himself had rendered him too confident. This unassuming little creature was no devil.
The further he descended down the inferno, the more barricades he had encountered on his way; wounding and injuring him to no end. Even with his soul gem on the edge of shattering, the grief seeds he had gathered were torn apart, watching as his own teammates neared their own limits as he caught up with them during their own witch hunts- the result was the same; he needed to research this even further. The fact that the two objects were apparently made of the same material had led Ludwig to several hypotheses - even coming close to the truth himself -, but, let us be real here for a second- if he did manage to figure out the truth behind the witches, which, logically speaking, he would, would it even come close to bothering him?
In fact...who was to say that, by learning the origins behind these creatures, that he wouldn't embrace the corruption of his soul gem? That he wouldn't lay his old vessel to waste, and treat his ascension to a higher plane of existence as a new experience for him? If that wasn't the case, then wouldn't he also inadvertently boost the process by going through meaningless hoops in the attempt to prevent his pre-written fate?
When looking at a man like Ludwig, a man already too far gone, only cold insanity and sadism irradiated from him- possessing an uncaring glee over the prospect of being able to experiment on the less fortunate souls who got in his way. His insistence on carrying on with his research came to the shock of almost nobody; such was his habit, and the mercenaries got used to his antics over time- yet, as time passed, his grip on his frustrations, desperation, and ever-growing drive continued to waver; everything about this new perspective on life filled him with a sense of wonder, even the countless roadblocks he had encountered still gave him a sense of awe...
His soul gem was as large as it was powerful, yes; it would take a larger accumulation of filth in order to actually affect him in any way or manner, and the reserves of magic he had- oh, how brightly must his gem shine when at its peak! Yet, one must consider at what point will the accumulated filth become...irreversible- how, at a certain threshold, the process of gathering up enough grief seeds to make sure it stays at its brightest at all times will yield more drawbacks than prospects of restoration? That the net value of the magic restored will inevitably hit zero if not the negatives?
How many times must this cycle repeat itself in order for the magi to inevitably give up on keeping their own soul completely pure at all times?
Ludwig still managed to keep his magic reserves somewhat afloat; though his cheerful and friendly mannerisms haven't wavered a bit, he couldn't keep his attention away from the developments that were unfolding before him. The experiments he had conducted on both his soul gem and the grief seeds he had gathered up did not help at all; further damaging and tainting his core only to satiate his own curiosity. He saw no issues as darkness slowly consumed his soul gem- it was simply another phenomenon to experience and document, no? It wasn't like it was hurting him or anything- if anything grim were to occur, he had his backup plans...if he could find one that actually worked...
No matter what Ludwig did, it appeared that his core was strictly bound to this jewel; he wasn't able to separate the souls within it, and, no matter how many times he would place another soul within him, it would just fade away as soon as he reached for it- purifying his soul gem in the process and leaving Ludwig as hollow as he was before the tests.
...He needed to study this further.
Ludwig's worries and starvation for answers gnawed at him. Within his glass heart, shades of ebony and crimson danced around one another, with only a small glimmer of light flickering through the veins existing to provide any form of luminescence, and his eyes-
Mikhail felt a lump on his throat as he gazed into the medic's soul through them- his once bright, fear-inducing blue eyes were beyond bloodshot, and, by his life, he could have sworn he saw the particles of his overheals float amidst the chaos. Still, Misha gulped down his worries as he placed the sandwich on Ludwig's desk and expressed his concerns over his health- to which the doctor thanked him - for both the meal and his considerations -, and assured the Heavy Weapons Guy before him that it was really nothing to flutter his feathers over, in his own words.
It was all going to be worth it soon. He knew it.
Tensions within the RED base grew with every passing day, and nobody sensed it more than Mikhail and Dell Conagher; though Ludwig would insist that he was alright - that it was all a part of the usual routine - and how close he was to a breakthrough, the two couldn't help but look out for the well-being of their medic. For the last few weeks to come, the two would keep a close eye on him- checking on the guy every now and then - as much as they could -, and making sure he hadn't completely lost himself.
His answers were becoming more cryptic as time passed; no matter how much Dell would ask and express his concerns, Ludwig would still act nonchalant, even as his eyes continued to darken with and his health evidently took a nosedive. This was no need for the concern, my friend; he continued to promise the engineer that it was all working out fine, and that he'll be okay once it's all over. Dell still kept his guards up; worried that, one day, Ludwig's gonna go completely off the rails- his and Mikhail's resolution to keep that man safe grew with each conversation they had with him. Something just ain't completely sound here, and he'll have to be there for him when that time comes.
What a hollow vow.
Days blurred with one another in Ludwig's mind. Each passing second held little to no significance to him anymore. No, he had to continue on with his hunts- he needed to. His doves looked at him with worried expressions; the lab was a mess, with papers and feathers scattered everywhere, the lights burnt out, and Ludwig himself slouched on the chair- illuminated by moonlight, and still carrying that damned gem.
And...he was never as satisfied as he was right at this very moment.
He looked down at his beaten-down, darkening soul gem- it was all worth it, no? He gazed into the flickering crimsons as though he was in a daze. He was exhausted, unable to get up on his feet, but he didn't mind that at all. His team will understand soon enough...
The light within his soul gem went into a frenzy- he smiled from ear to ear, for it was finally time; the hour of revelation had dawned upon him. Like a grand supernova, it collapsed into itself.
Ludwig tilted his head backwards, still fascinated by what was happening before him even as all life escaped his eyes. He embraced the corruption consuming him, and, with a crack and a flash of bright light, the entire RED base was sent into chaos.
-The Witch's Nature-
In short, this is tied to the personality/aspect of a magi that did them in; what drove them to slip into despair with their skulls cracking wide open upon impact. To provide a few set examples; Homulilly's was Self-Sufficiency (closing herself off from others as both Moemura and Cool Homu), Oktavia's was to Fall in Love (the infatuation with both Kyosuke and the ideal of a Magical Girl marked poor Sayaka's end), and Candeloro's was inviting (Mami's coping mechanism to deal with her loneliness- and the irony of her dragging innocents into the life of a magi). It can also reflect the intent behind their wish (Sayaka and Madoka) or how they would cope with the life of a magi and the responsibilities that come with it moving forwards prior to their demise (Mami, Kyoko and Homura).
Unfortunately, it is rather....difficult to describe the traits and convictions that cause such complex characters to do what they have done in a single sentence, much less a word or two. For all anyone would know, any of the mentioned above - cause of their wishes, how they cope, and what finally marked their ends - could have been driven by a multitude of a magi's traits and goals, and Ludwig was no exception.
To make this easier on everyone, myself included, I have divided most of the traits that have pushed Lud over the edge into separate segments. The suggested natures listed below are in no particular order; one can fit the bill more than the other. Though I have chosen only one of them for the witch card, ya'll are free to reinterpret it with any of the other suggested natures.
Desperate
Cunning
Wonder
Sadistic
To Experiment
Observant
Curious
-The Witch's Appearance-
"I have a bird head! You're dominated! We're both having a bad day."
This might either be the most fun or the most agonizing segment of the entire thing. As a matter of fact, aside from his descent to despair, this part took me the longest to conceptualize, and it's still not 100% complete in my eyes, oh dear oh me-
Right off the bat- the witch has to be gruesome. I am not placing heavy emphasis on this one just because this is Medic we're talking about and how we're all aware of his...peculiar views on his job and the human body, but it's also due to the aforementioned souls he's surgically implanted into himself prior to contracting. Let me state this again- before managing to find and ensure a contract with Kyubey, the man had already managed to turn the abstract concept of a soul into nothing more than an organ that can be grafted into himself; that ferret's nifty trick is no longer special.
To showcase exactly why the topic of Lud having multiple souls is so integral here, we have to recall that, throughout the Puella Magi canon, we have witnessed witches fusing with one another via various means; it has been stated that Walpurgisnacht was a singular witch who fused with others over time, and Kazumi Magica's Hyades Daybreak was an artificially-created witch born from the fusion of multiple soul gems. You could argue that Madokami is another such example thanks to Homura's resets and wish having her as the main focus; thus binding her to multiple iterations of herself across numerous timelines (as is it made clear to us with Madokami's transformation sequence in Magia Record).
The point being is that not only is Medic's witch's stupidly powerful, but I doubt it would be pretty to the eyes; unlike Madoka, those souls weren't originally his, and the way that he fused himself with said souls is thanks to his, let's say, bizarre surgical skills, and not due to whatever logic is behind the witches' ability to fuse with one another. Think of the core of his very being as an amalgam; whether he's retained his original soul from the Devil's ownership upon contracting or not is up to you, but the idea still stands nonetheless. It wouldn't just be some Frankenstein-esque monstrosity with stitches, additional appendages, and mismatched skin, either; the organs representing the souls he had stolen are there for all to see just beneath his unassuming, reliable, and even charming exterior.
Now that we've gotten some key details written down, we are going to have to examine his role, self-image, history, and the impact his actions had on the rest of the team in order to actually, well, design the bastard's personification of obsession and despair; these four elements are crucial for when it comes to designing a decent witch that would not only fit in the world of Madoka Magica, but also drive home the idea that these witches were once Magi themselves- with their own dreams and goals.
We'll kick this off by looking at Ludwig's role in the canon of Team Fortress 2; he is the de-facto healer, but he's less interested in actually helping the ill and is more into the idea of tinkering with the human form- going as far as to use animal organs for his whack scientific endeavors for the goal of satisfying his curiosity. His healing abilities are also stated to be side-effects of his knowledge regarding human anatomy- even the Medigun wasn't initially supposed to be healing the mercs, according to the lore provided for us.
While on topic, I should also bring Medic's gameplay onto the table; though he is one of the weaker classes when speaking in terms of strength, making sure your team's medic stays on the map for as long as you could is crucial. Think of him as the king piece on a chess board; once your doc out of the picture, not only will your team start to drop like flies, but you'll lose some of that sweet, sweet Uber time. There is a reason as to why Medics tend to stay around the more resilient classes rather than glass cannons like Scout; survival and defenses.
Next up, we'll talk about his self-image and how he is perceived by the rest. As we can tell, he takes much delight in his work and his experiments on other human beings- he doesn't see anything to worry about his interests and the peculiar way he goes about it, no matter how extreme it is. Obviously, the man's not in-tune with the concept of human morality- going as far as to see these unwritten rules of humanity as nothing more than roadblocks on the way of his life.
In spite of his...screws being more than loose, as I already stated above, it isn't like he sees his fellow mercenaries as lesser beings when compared to himself; he does like them, albeit in his own amoral, gory way - he wouldn't have granted them the power of invincibility otherwise, among the other feats in modern science he had accomplished in order to save his team's asses -. Yeah, he does experiment on them, but, at this point, that's just how he says "hello"- and, when compared to what he did to the Classics, the adjustments made were for the active benefit of his team (...most of the time).
From all this, we can tell that his witch is on the more dangerous side (AS IF THE EXTRA SOULS DIDN'T DO THE JOB?)- with a dash of grace, of course; a reflection of his friendly exterior hiding away his twisted interests and "job"- and, fellas, he adores his work. He holds no regards for the safety of his patients and how outlandish his experiments are; he already kept an enemy Spy's head alive in a fridge, for corn's sake. Nonetheless, he is still a competent doctor- more than competent, in fact; when given the right tools, organs, time, and budget- death is no more than a small hurdle to him. He also genuinely cares for his fellow mercs, even going as far as to call them his friends; maybe that's how the witch will see his own familiars? What if he also tries to smile, joke around, and sing lullabies as he cuts open his human victims?
By looking at this being, only unfathomable, suffocating dread surrounded you- for you were in the presence of he who holds the thread between life and death. This creature before you- no, that isn't right...this deity looked down upon his next patient; surrounded by the lifeless husks of his familiars and their victims, he was rather annoyed over the prospect of having his work be interrupted, but he was also more glad that a living being had wandered into the operating room. Yes, he knew it now; a sadistic sense of glee beamed from the monster as he knew that the next medical trial will be a lot more interesting than he had expected.
Finally, to wrap things up, we glance at his history. Now, I am going to give you guys the heads-up in advance, because not only will this segment be composed of speculations for the most part, but we will be discussing themes of ethn1c gen0c1de. If this topic is in any way triggering, scroll down to the part where we talk about either the latter part of his design, his barrier- or just skip right to the Witch's Card. Clicking away from this post altogether is also highly encouraged.
Much of Ludwig's history is currently kept wrapped under shadows- we were told of Mikhail's, Tavish's, Jeremy's, Dell's, Mundy's, and even Jane's lives before they joined RED/BLU and partook in the Gravel Wars, but, aside from the enigmatic Pyro, Medic was the only one whose backstory was never clearly given to us. All we have to go off of are the bits and pieces peppered across the official website(s) and several official cosmetics-
We all know that he was native to and lived in Germany "during an era where the Hippocratic Oath had been downgraded to an optional Hippocratic suggestion" until he had escaped it by hijacking a catering van during a prime minister's wedding for reasons currently unclear to us - it has been speculated it was due to him having stolen a man's whole skeleton, but he had stated that he lost his medical license soon after the incident -. In the Two Cities update, one of the signs present in Rottenburg, his hometown, was that of a pharmacy advertising a number of...odd products, one of which being Baboon Hearts (leading to the speculation that his name has to be Humboldt- as it was the name of said pharmacy and the confirmation that Medic descended from a line of mad scientists like himself). We also know that he had found and then adopted his doves, namely Archimedes, as he escaped via grand theft catering van.
These should be all he scraps we were given in regards to Ludwig as a character outside of his job and the mercenary business, right? Weeeeeeelll....not quite. There is still one more jigsaw puzzle we should piece together, and, when combined with the time period TF2 takes place in, it does not paint a pretty picture of his life prior to becoming a mercenary. Folks...
We have to talk about Ludwig's Jewish coding, and the implications it has in regards to his backstory when combined with the timeline of the Team Fortress universe.
Though it was never explicitly stated to us, several aspects of Medic do shine a light towards this specific direction; to make this easier for us all, I'll just be listing down the evidence present across the canons of both the game and the comics-
The theme song of his bird, Archimedes, that plays during his surgery on Heavy in Meet the Medic is Klezmer music- Yiddish folk music
His pronunciation of "Danke Schon" is the Yiddish way
In the Gargoyles and Gravel comic, he was dressed up as the openly Jewish Albert Einstein for Halloween
The most damning of all, Valve's insistence that Medic is NOT a N-zi; especially with how fanmade cosmetics that portray him in such a way are often taken down almost immediately
Now, I do understand the fact that Ludwig is far from a saint, but...you have to understand the sheer, vile evil the N-zis and their ideology embody- and, unfortunately, he was also another target for their venomous rampage. Add in the fact that it was at full swing back when Lud was a young adult and he probably witnessed the rise of the heinous ideology when he was a little sap, and...there is no way I can say this lightly-
Ludwig had lived through dark, heinous years. Maybe he's always been this crazy, maybe what was left of his sanity had shattered to brittle pieces thanks to what he and countless others were forced to experience- perhaps he was already insane, but the slaughters and oppression were a whole other degree of evil to him; of course, until the writers at Valve say otherwise, all this falls upon how you personally interpret Medic as a character and how he coped with his backstory.
Though this is all just simple speculation based on what bits and pieces of the man's background we were given officially, it does bring into question what Lud had experienced outside of his medical endeavors. Besides, topics surrounding the second world war have already been explored in the world of TF2- Heavy's backstory is one example, where he and his family were sent to a gulag following the imprisonment and execution of his father, a counter-revolutionist; they only managed to escape once it had burnt down. The trauma of the experience still lingers within Mikhail, as was shown to us in A Cold Day in Hell, so such a backstory for Ludwig is not out of the realm of possibility.
With all that in mind, one must wonder about the kinds of thoughts that were running through Ludwig's mind during that time, and place his escape from Germany under a different light. I must, once again, repeat the statement that Ludwig is not a good man, but did that justify whatever he possibly went through? He even went as far as to crash a political figure's wedding in order to flee; was it because of the hilarity factor TF2 and Medic as a character are well-known for - namely after he stole that dude's skeleton -? Or was there another aspect at play- one of utmost urgency? After all, leaving one's home country for good has got to be a difficult decision- he didn't even return to Rottenburg when Grey Mann took over, implying that, unlike the rest, he didn't have anything waiting for him back home...
Ah, it wasn't like it mattered to him nowadays, anyway; nay, he dared not to think about it any further- all that mattered to him now were his research...his experiments...
So, with all the complicated stuff set on the table, let's move on to the simpler bits of a witch's design- the glue that tie all these bits and pieces together!
Where do we start? With the Magi's own design, of course! After all, Oktavia's knightly theme didn't just come from Sayaka's desire to become a hero/Kyosuke's knight in shining armor, and don't get me started on Homulilly's final form. I am certain that there are other witches that would also help get the point across, like Charlotte, but let's not extend this segment too much.
Upon taking a closer look, we can see that Ludwig's design invokes the imagery of a dove - just like how the little nubs on Nagisa's hat are reminiscent of mouse ears (and we all know how her witch form looks like) -, especially with the ends of his coat resembling a dove's tail feathers. Several cosmetics of his that are present in the game also boost this specific theme of his, especially the Blighted Beak mask, the Wings of Purity, and, of course, the infamous Medimedes bird head.
Of course, this might be a reference to the doves in his lab - there we go, simple as that -, but I don't think that's all there is to it; remember, for an amoral, crazed man like Medic, he is still represented by holy themes, much like any other healer in most media. When you think of a healer, you think of a person who swore under the oath of not doing any harm, and have devoted themselves to the life of pacifism...everything that Medic is not. In fact, Medic himself invokes the fear of being before the almighty; how small and utterly insignificant we are in his eyes, and that, to a being with a mind like Ludwig's, our lives are in the palms of his hands to toy with.
Ah, sacricore and holy themes- don't we just love them? The idea of a savior is definitely written down; a brilliant being with evidence of the slaughter staining his hands. Doves are also gonna be heavily referenced- what kind of Medic-related design are we working on if we didn't give him a pair of wings or two?
As a matter of fact, who is to say that the witch isn't a mad, humanoid-ish dove? With his crooked, bright smile and unfeeling red eyes being hidden by his aura and brilliant, white feathers? You think you might be in the presence of a god of hospitals and medicine, and he even approaches you with such a cheerful demeanor; happy to see a patient stumbling into his lab! That is, until you see how red the ends of his feathers are, how wide that smile is under that plague mask of his, and his eyes...
Hang on- is this a plague mask to begin with? As your eyes finally focus...you can see that it is jutting out of his skin- it's not a mask, but a part of his skull.
Next, we are going to focus on the magi's weapon and what powers they had prior to witchification; now, I am aware that their weapons and their powers are not always reflected in their witch designs - coughs coughs, Kriemhild and Homulilly -, but it does appear to be an "either/both/neither" case for when it comes to analyzing and designing them - I mean, just look at Ophelia -. Besides, Team Fortress 2 is a combat-oriented game, so it would be of great disservice to the game if I did NOT incorporate the main vessel in which you would use to bludgeon your enemies to smithereens with.
Once more, the Medic's main shtick is healing and granting your team a wide number of buffs depending on the medigun equipped; the Kritzkrieg grants a 100% crit chance upon activation, the Vaccinator provides immunity/reduced damage against several damage types, and don't get me started on the number of buffs a Medic can grant their team alone in the Mann vs. Machine mode. For now, we'll just be focusing on the classical Medigun, and how it grants invincibility to both himself and the person he is healing upon activation.
As seen in Meet the Medic, this was possible due to the adjustments made on each of the mercs' hearts- or, what replacements they have received in place of said organs, considering that even HEAVY'S had burst from the pressure caused by his medigun's rays. It is shown to us that the heart begins to pump at an accelerated rate upon activation, likely to spread the influence of the medigun at full power through the subject's veins; turning them into a bulletproof behemoths ready to turn the enemy team into a pile of mush.
From this alone, we can pinpoint the idea that hearts are an important motif in his witch's design. I'd also wager that he'd also possess powers that aren't unlike the functionalities of his medigun; allowing him to heal himself, his familiars, and even other witches at close proximity- bloodthirsty, erratic mercenary or not, he is still the team's doctor. Once the witch starts glowing red, you only have a few seconds to either find a weak point as soon as you could or make a break for it.
To further build upon this theme, attached to his back, not looking too dissimilar to how his medigun backpack, are vials filled with fluid that each resemble the lights of a soul gem at its limit. Within them, he stores his victim's souls, blood, guts, and organs for future usage. How did they get here? Why, with his other appendage hidden inside his forearm; resembling a combination between a saw and a needle. It is easy to use a surgical knife, yes, but some patients are...less than cooperative.
Before we unveil the finalized-ish idea for the witch, I should also take a second to talk about his hypothetical barrier and possible witch's kiss/warlock's whisper. It is true that the most powerful witches in-canon don't exactly need to hide in their barriers - case in point, Walpurgisnacht, Kriemhild Gretchen, Hyades and Shitori Egumo -, but, if we go by the concept art pertaining to Kriemhild Gretchen, we can see that they do have labyrinths they call their own. Even Walpurgisnacht has a pocket space she calls her home; it's the none other than the monochrome hallway Madoka was running through during episode 1, as confirmed by the PSP Game. If neither Walpurgis nor Kriemhild were exempt from this rule, then it shouldn't be surprising to see that this also applies to Ludwig's witch.
As stated in the January 2012 issue of Dengeki Playstation, a witch's labyrinth represents "the magical girl's mental landscape before they became a witch"; Oktavia's was a concert hall- resembling the one where she would watch Kyousuke play the violin, Candeloro's a tea party for one- representing how she would cope with her loneliness and the fact that she arranged her meetings with Madoka and Sayaka as tea parties -, and, according to the aforementioned concept art, Kriemhild's barrier is an obsidian and magenta void full of floating furniture- specifically those of her and her mother's rooms.
From these examples, we can assume that the barrier represent core memories of the magi before they fell into despair, and are either tied to the reason behind their wishes or how they coped with their lives after contracting:
Madoka had a healthy family life in comparison to the other members of the holy quintet, and it is thanks to the environment she was raised in that she ended up becoming the merciful, selfless girl that we all know today
Everything about Homulilly's barrier just represent how much Madoka meant to Homura, even if she didn't exactly see her perspective 1:1; as such, the rundown state of Mitakihara City not only represents her time loops and how it is the setting for all her time loops, but also how she failed to protect Madoka in the end and to grieve the normal life they could have had- had it not been for the universe and everything it stood for standing against them (it might also foreshadow the choice she had made at the end of Rebellion; trapping her team and the rest of the city in a gilded cage so that the incubators will not have a chance at hurting Madoka ever again)
Nagisa didn't have much of a social life outside of school, her run-down home, and visiting the hospital where her mother was at- and it is within that hospital that she proclaimed that she was done with being the perfect daughter to someone who barely deserved it; that it was her turn to take control
We can even tell that Sayaka watching Kyousuke's concerts was such a pivotal moment in her life because of how this specific memory was shown to us at least twice during the series; when she explained what happened to him and the cause behind her wish, and as soon as her soul gem had reached the point of no return- albeit for a split second.
Of course, this is not necessarily a strict rule to follow for when it comes to designing and deciphering witch labyrinths; H.N Elly's barrier resembles a snow globe in composition - according to production notes -, Charlotte is having a tea party with a doll in which both of them are unable to respond, and...I am not 100% sure on what to make of Ophelia's barrier- though I will come back to it later. Barriers don't have to be based on actual locations that are significant to the magi's life; rather, they can be manifestations of their desires prior to witching out- Elly wished to preserve a happy memory that gave her a shred of respite in the midst of the stressful life of an idol; and the tea party symbolizes the relationship Nagisa craved from her mother, that she was the timid one of both parties- silent as a doll, and how ultimately hollow that wish is- in the end, it's just a toy; it cannot respond to her even if she could speak, nor could it comfort her.
Unsurprisingly, I can see that Ludwig's barrier could be an infirmary...no, that can't be right; after all, Ludwig does what he does not out of compassion for the sick, but because he could. He seeks to change and perfect the mercs; turning them into unstoppable killing machines forged by his own hands and mind. He usually does all this to satisfy that itch in his mind and the excitement whatever results he gets from these surgeries bring him. It looks like a place of respite for one's health, but it is a death trap, first and foremost.
As a reference to his escape from Germany, maybe Ludwig's doves are still flying around the barrier; blood and feathers staining the floors and hallways, and themes of uprooted trees are peppered in as paintings and ruined potted plants. This represents the panic setting in and high speeds of the van, on top of how he came to discover and adopt these feathery companions of his, while the uprooted tree symbol suggests that he has nothing waiting for him back home in Germany; the other mercenaries went back home after the events of Rings of Fired (sans Pyro and Engie) except for Medic, after all. Maybe he was just lucky(?) enough to immediately land a job amongst the classic mercs, or perhaps...he just couldn't go back "home", not after everything.
Going back to the canonical barriers for a sec, one part of when it comes to designing a proper labyrinth is that, sometimes, a person can sway your heart so much they could change the trajectory of your ideals and influence the way you look at both your actions and the world around you.
This is most evident in Ophelia's barrier, as seen to us in Madoka Magica Portable; though it's hard for me personally to decipher exactly what it is, there's a fuck-ton of symbolic elements literally swimming around there, including musical notes floating from the ground and into the air. I don't think I need to specify exactly what said notes represent here.
Since there are multiple rooms within a barrier that can serve different functions, perhaps there's an outdoors segment where the magi first end up in; a frigid winter wonderland threatening to turn this labyrinth's visitors' limbs into unfeeling, darkened blocks of frozen meat falling off their bones. The only salvation from this bitter cold is to enter the interior segments of the barrier, and, even then, you are still not at all safe; his familiars are still on high alert- whenever they aren't "looking after" the other patients present -, and the infirmary in of itself is nothing more than the lure of an anglerfish- fooling the humans who have stumbled into it and punishing them to a fate worse than death.
The conveyor belt stretches through the halls of the labyrinth and leads right to the center; the operating room. There, the doctor awaits either his next batch of organs - human or otherwise - or a new patient. Ah, how everything runs smoothly; the bloodshed, the violence, the screaming- such fine melodies, they nearly compelled him go and play a tune on his "bone" saw at this very moment.
Another small detail that I want to pepper in is that there are the sounds and vibrations of a heart beat that echo through the halls of the labyrinth's interior sections. Perhaps there are slices of lavish wedding cakes (the van), pretzels (Germany), and all manners of bread (the mercs and that bread monster) that are being served in the canteen- and, before you ask, no, I would not recommend eating them. I know I already said that hearts are a core theme of the witch's design itself, and maybe the canteen thing is a bit too farfetched, but, hey, a nice detail is a nice detail.
Finally, so we can wrap this whole segment up already, we'll discuss the details of his witch's kiss/warlock's whisper. Now, Witch Kisses in-canon are...weird; they hold less consistencies than the witches themselves and their barriers, so it is hard to draw out the necessary similarities needed to create a decent design. Some witch's kisses are tied to the witch's type (Uhrmann, Homulilly), designs (Oktavia, Elly), and their grief seeds (Kriemhild). Sometimes, I have no idea on what they represent at all! (CANDELORO) I'm just gonna go on a limb here and just...wing it.
-BADUM TSS-
Okay, okay, that was horrible, I'm sorry. Indeed, wings will be a key theme- specifically 6 of them; not only are they reflective of him being a dove, but also to boost the holiness theme he has going on and to symbolize his earlier deal with the devil. In the middle of it, a clawed, red hand grabs on to an anatomical heart; whether he is handing it out or taking it for himself is unknown. Upon closer inspection, one can see that it is affecting the victim's veins, causing the area around the whisper to turn into a deep, glowing red; remember how the ubercharge works, people.
Finally, finally, after two months of hard work - two months of AGONY -, we have it; the moment we have all been waiting for...
-Witch Card-
Asclepius, the Warlock of Reconfiguration. His nature is wonder. A revolting, mad avian who conceals his sickened mind with the appearance of a plague doctor, and a charming, silver tongue. Upon gathering up those who would become the volunteers and patients for his latest medical trials, his very own ward begins to choir and hum with every slice and stitch made on his victims' bodies; readjusting and mutilating their forms to fit what piqued his mind at the hour.
The leftover organs are then either stored for his future endeavors, swallowed whole by the warlock in order to improve upon his own self, or are kept alive - perhaps even conscious - within his barrier as a testament to his prowess; eternally trapped and wailing for the liberation of death.
-Familiars-
Galatea. Servants of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. Their duty is to worship. The warlock's beautiful creations- the culminations of his medical curiosities. Right out of the operating tables, they would test out the enhancements blessed to them, and continue to be of good use to the warlock by defending his infirmary and the operating room. Those who cross paths with the Galateas will not see a hint of hesitation- they are willing to keep the bloodshed around the labyrinth ongoing for the sake of their doctor, even at the cost of their own lives.
Though the warlock prefers the blank slates that are the humans who get admitted to his infirmary, he would still pick apart at and experiment on his Galateas, whether in order to fix them, enhance them using the organs of his victims, or to salvage as much of their parts as he could- perhaps in order to rebuild them in the future.
(Familiars are said to be "projections of a magi's heart before they became a witch"; as result, their duties can range from directly serving the witch - the Holgers representing Sayaka's desire to be in the center of Kyousuke's attention, and the Anthonies are tasked to care for the roses Gertrud cherishes from the bottom of her heart -, to becoming obstacles to all, sometimes even to the witches themselves - the Klarissas' only task is to dance around Oktavia, Anja's stated to have been separated from Albertine, and dare I talk about how the Clara Dolls represent Homura's self-loathing over her inability to save Madoka? -. It isn't uncommon to see that a familiar can be based on significant key figures in the magi's life, especially if they were either related to the wish they made or the cause(s) behind their despair.
These buggers here symbolize Ludwig's love for not just mutilation, but also reinventing the way his teammates' organs function- and, as I mentioned before, his deep trust in the mercenaries. He also compared himself to the divine on numerous occasions and is followed by multiple holy motifs in spite of his little deal with the devil going on; he was even followed by a choir and his doves flying behind him as soon as he stepped into the battlefield in Meet the Medic.)
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Hubris. Servants of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. Their duty is donation. Bound by their hauteur and the broken bones of their bounties, these pathetic prisoners of the warlock have been chained and are treated as nothing more than livestock by both their master and his other servants. Watching their own organs and other body parts be pulled apart from one another before regenerating once more for the continuation of this cycle has drained all hope of ever escaping their punishments from their eyes- not with these atrophied limbs and sore boils.
Their stringy, rotting flesh provide little to no sustenance for neither the warlock nor his other familiars, and are too fragile to use for his medical trials - hence the need for human patients -. Nonetheless, they are bound to these spare operating tables, awake at all times, as the claws of the other servants pick apart and toy with each and every one of their fibers. The warlock finds humor in their agonized howls.
(They resemble misshapen versions of the TFC team - barring their own medic -, since we are going with the assumption that he took their souls rather than those his own teammates. Why I went with the idea of the classics themselves becoming his familiars is and are not just projections of how Medic saw them during his time working with them is due to how both Walpurgisnacht and Hyades Daybreak had their respective original forms re-manifesting as their own familiars.
Yes, Cheavy gets the worst of it.)
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Archimedes. An old friend of the Warlock of Reconfiguration. His duty is attendance. As he glides through the bloodstained halls of the infirmary, this dove, whose pristine feathers have long since been soaked with a deep crimson throughout his master's countless trials, would not only take part in the warlock's surgeries as the role of a willing audience, but he would also stand by and even assist (Asclepius) - all the while satisfying his own morbid, sickened curiosity -. Of all familiars, the warlock treats this one with the most respect, understanding, and fatherly affection.
(Not a familiar that looks like the bird, not a familiar that is inspired by the bird- it's the fucking bird itself.)
-Inspirations-
In-game:
His doves, and the fact that Archimedes was a WEDDING DOVE before Medic found him
Him hijacking the chancellor's van during his wedding in order to escape Germany (and eventually finding then adopting Archimedes who was within it)
His silver tongue clashing with or weirdly complementing his deranged personality and actions; would it translate into his witch looking more humanoid, among other traits? Well...
His usage of animal organs to compensate for the fragility of human organs might make the humanoid aspect of his witch sort of moot
His bonesaw and how he plays it like a violin (non-conventional musicals?)
The Vita-saw
Ubercharge
Him playing cosmic systems like a damn skipping rope to his advantage (reviving Sniper and having multiple souls sewn into himself in order to scam the Devil out of their deal). This does not work with Kyubey, like, sir, your surname ain't Kaname, if memory serves me right
The Blighted Beak cosmetic; its Vibrio Cholerae style specifically, as it would better fit Inu Curry's art style
Medic's gameplay in both the vanilla game and the V-Script Zombie Infection mode
"And no wonder! For even the devil disguises himself as a being of light." - His association with themes that are considered "holy" and "good" in Meet the Medic and several of his own cosmetics...yeah, no need for me to go into detail as to how ironic this all is
Outside Influences:
The Greatest Living Show by Itoki Hana and Toby Fox (wow, I have an addiction to Itoki Hana's songs, don't I?)- evident especially with the heart beats in his barrier
Repo! The Genetic Opera
German fairytales- especially with how some of them revolve around mortals dealing with otherworldly beings
-Closing Statements-
To be completely honest, I wish I was able to actually draw this shit and not make ya'll read through this drag of a document and leave the gist of it up to your imaginations. I also have to apologize for how rushed it is near each segment's ending; I initially wanted to publish this around the start of October, but it was far, FAR from finished by the time it rolled around.
This has been a wild 2 or so months; constantly looking up references and refining the concept time and time again along the way, and it is still not perfect (especially with how the description of the warlock's appearance), but, overall, I am very happy to have managed to deliver it during spooky season.
I should also give a huge thanks to @bluethepearldiver! Not only did they support me incredibly so throughout the process of writing this in ways I cannot write down so easily, but they've also helped me with the names of his familiars and that RAW line ("Unfortunately, his trickery of the devil himself had rendered him too confident. This unassuming little creature was no devil.")! So, please, do give them the support they deserve ;0;
Once more, I am more than willing to listen to suggestions and criticisms; I'm aiming to not just improve upon Asclepius, but also the other mercs' witch forms when the time comes (I even have a concept for Scout's)! Do not be afraid to send an ask or even tag me regarding the matter- I'll do my best to reply (if Tumblr gets its head outta its ass and does its job notifying me for once)!
Thank you all so, so much for reading all this! I appreciate any and all engagements and feedback coming my way.
#team fortress 2#puella magi madoka magica#madoka magica#Medic#Medic TF2#TF2 Medic#PMMM Witches#Fanmade witches#Fortress Magica#Heavy Metal Fest#Heavymedic#Engiemedic#HeavyMetal#witching hours#Witch archives#Crossover Witches#Blog post#Chat Room#no beta read; it is 2 am so I will die like Mami#READ THE FRUITS OF MY LABOR#READ IIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT#TW: Gore#TW: surgery#TW: Cannibalism mention#TW: animal death mention#TW: Religion mention#TW: Genocide
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Hi! :)
Since you're a progressive christian, I wanted to ask you what you think about eternal damnation (or Hell) as a concept? Is believing in Hell a part of your faith personally? if it is, how does it work (who goes there and why people go there)? As a fellow spiritual & God-believing person (not a christian though, I lean towards religious pluralism), I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Hi! Thank you for asking :) It's a complicated question, and my view on the question of Hell is also complicated. I'm still figuring out what exactly I believe about it, and of course I'm only one person and one with no theological training so I may be wrong on any number of counts, so I'm afraid my answer may not be very satisfying. But I'll try my best!
(Bear in mind of course that these are only my beliefs and ideas)
Firstly, I think the Bible is fairly clear that the segregation of souls' location based on virtue does not occur until Judgement Day and the Second Coming of Christ. A place called Sheol, or its Greek name Hades, is present throughout the Bible, and is less a place like Hell and more simply the realm of the dead. Sheol is also referred to as the depths or the bowels of the Earth. I assume this is where we go while awaiting Judgement Day, although I don't know whether to interpret it as a literal spiritual realm or rather bodies returning to the earth (though I tend to lean towards the latter personally). I think our bodies return to the earth, "dust to dust". What happens to our souls during this time I'm not sure, although I think maybe they rest with Christ until Judgement in a kind of dormant state.
Then after an unknowable time Christ raises the dead and all humans are judged. At this point I do believe in some form of Hell, but I think a person would have to be unquestionably evil to be sent there. Those that commit murder, torture, r*pe, and things of that severity. I do believe in damnation, but not an eternal one.
I'm quite inspired by Saint Julian of Norwich and I believe that her divine revelation was true. I believe all things will one day be reconciled to God. All living things are of God and I don't believe any living being can remain separated from Him forever. I personally think that a person's soul that has been marred by true evil will be wiped clean before being returned to God.
So those are my thoughts! I personally believe that judgement and damnation are necessary, but ultimately, "all shall be well".
#asks#christianity#progressive christianity#christian theology#judgement#judgement day#damnation#hell#julian of norwich#theology#progressive christian#queer christian#christian faith#religion#afterlife#faith
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My current thoughts about Remnants (pod), as of ep10
(a disjointed list of theories, thoughts and opinions that have been bouncing around in my head and need to put down somewhere. A lot of this will likely be disproven when e11 comes out.)
(under the cut because there's a lot)
First of all, Sir. I don't think he knows what he's supposed to be doing, really, either. Or rather, he knows the what but not the why. He might be afraid, and that might be for a lot of reasons. It might be for what they're doing together, it might be for A. It might be something else entirely.
I also have half a theory working right now that Sir was either made with the First And Last Place[which I will be calling TFALP from now] (has always been there, doesn't remember anything from before or why), or was a previous Apprentice. In this case, he could be lying to the Apprentice so that he doesn't try to replace Sir in turn.
Sir is not human, we know that. He might have been, once, but he's not anymore. He seems to have some sort of magic(?) that can make A forget things, and possibly has wings (flapping noise in e6). He also may-or-may-not be something of a biblical angel, in the sense that his true form cannot be comprehended by A without his mind exploding.
The Apprentice. He is there to give (unbiased?) judgement about something he doesn't understand. That is his purpose. His memory is wiped every time he gets too close to understanding what TFALP actually is, although it is unclear whether it is because Sir has an ulterior motive or just because A's mind can't handle it all. I'm leaning more towards the "understanding TFALP causes eldritch madness" idea though, it makes more sense with the evidence we have.
It is possible that neither Sir nor A are actual people, but rather constructs made by a larger force, or simply just concepts given bodies
The code of capitalised letters from the episode captions so far is: HE IA M OR EOR LESS MST HAS ILTOT [spaces separate episodes]. The only clue we have been given is a picture of 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner from Eira. I think this means that it will be able to decode/be separated into words in multiple ways, rather than the words themselves having double meanings, but I have no confirmation for this.
However, I also think it's multiple different codes(?), being separated by every time A is "reset". (look, just hear me out).
The "HEIAMOREORLESS" part came ep1-6, and the "new" A is shown in e7. If we take this as a separation point in the code, then this part reads "He I AMore Or Less" (Am, more). This would make sense in the context of the show itself and other clues we've been given.
But the next part (ep7-10) can't be put into any obvious words (yet). "MSTHASILTOT". This needs to be decoded differently, possibly with an actual cipher.
I don't know, we don't have the whole code yet so it shouldn't make any sense yet so I'm probably completely wrong but you see my point I hope?
So far the morse code reads: Apprentice / reshelve or discard / the question / is not what / it may / first / / appear to / be if indeed / it appears / to be /
I reckon the next parts will say "anything at all". Not a huge theory or anything, I just wanted to guess. However, this does tell us that there is more about "Reshelve or discard" than is immediately obvious. I have so many thoughts about that though, it needs its own post.
The TL;DR of what I think right now is that yes, it is reincarnation, but it's not clear which option makes the person in the Remnant reincarnated -- I think it's the discard option, because reshelve implies that the ones on the shelf can always be moved around but the discarded ones are gone (living a life?).
I am not confident in that though
But if that is the case, then which is worse?
I haven't thought about it very much yet, but all of these Remnants are going to be connected in some way, I just haven't figured out why. It could just be that the show is more fun (on a meta level) when you have to break out the red string, but the fact that Sir seemed to have some sort of investment with e6 makes me think it's more than that.
Or, rather, what was so important about e6? Why did he care so much that A read it? Did it reveal too much too soon, or did Sir have some sort of emotional investment or involvement with it?
If Sir has an involvement with some of the Remnants implies...I don't know what it implies to be honest. That he was a person once? That he does, in fact, feel emotions? That he has read the Remnants? We already know he seen all the Remnants, he's told us that outright, and he says he doesn't remember "the way that you [A] do" (e10). Is Sir God?
That sounds like a joke but I am making faint connections in my mind ok I'll explain that when they're clear enough to see
I think it would be kind of cute if Sir just sort of...went to a jumble sale and bought a bunch of trinkets, and that's why they're all related
Someone in the Discord said those dust-sprite-things might be discarded Remnants also. That doesn't help my theory at all I just wanted to mention it because those Dust Sprites and the letters from e6 and TFALP itself all mean something but I don't know what
When I was reading through the e6 transcript, I forgot that A says he thinks there's something else in there with them. Not sure if he meant the Dust, or TFALP itself, or the Remnants, or something else entirely, but it does intrigue me.
If it is something else, it could be an antagonist of a sort. There seems to be something working against Sir, creating the "paper trails" and showing A e6, which Sir was not happy about. But why was Sir not aware of it happening? He acts as though he should have seen it?? Could it have been left there by A previously, as a clue so that he could try and remember and find answers again?
Why does Sir care so much about A? He apparently has to regularly erase his memories, would it not be easier to get a different random person each time? The fact that it's always the same person makes me think that A was created for specifically this purpose, but he also seems more...human? than Sir, understanding sarcasm and jokes and empathy and that sort of thing. Is A supposed to be a representation of all of humanity? So that he can be a fair judge? Sir does say that A always has the job (e7)
And Sir says that "Things will not change, not until I see fit" in that episode. This implies that he has some level of control over TFALP and the Remnants and how it all works. So the question is, why? Why can he control it, why is it how it is?
Or maybe Sir cares about him because of familiarity, he's gotten used to and fond of A being around, he doesn't want to have to replace him. But that then raises the question of why he kept him around to start, before he got used to him, and it circles back round. Maybe they were both human, once, and they knew each other, and now only Sir remembers for whatever reason.
#woo ok that was a long one#(it's been sitting in my drafts since e10 dropped because I forgot it was there)#I expect e11 will prove or disprove a LOT of this but it's fun to guess anyway!#I might make a collection of theories this long every 10 episodes#It's fun to put all my thoughts and opinions in one place! But I do need to ramble about how I think the Remnants work too#remnants pod#I needdd other people to tell me their opinions on all this too#remnants: an audio drama#remnants podcast
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What's the root of this whole promiscuous women are "used up" thing? I understand that men are somehow convinced that sex irreversibly changes a woman, but I just can't make sense of the logic of it - like I just saw a popular social media post authored by a man who broke up with his girlfriend after finding out she had hookups on a weekly basis throughout college. The entire scenario is bizarre to me because nothing was materially wrong with her or the relationship, nothing was wrong with the quality of the sex, and nothing was even said about her body being physically different to other, more virginal women, yet he still viewed her as irredeemably desecrated. This man threw away an entire deeply intimate relationship over small insecurities and other men look at him in awe as a beacon of masculinity??? Really?? I just do not get it.
I'm going to disappoint you here but I don't really understand it either. I can write paragraph after paragraph of theory but on a personal level it still completely floors me - men have a system of 'logic' that is fundamentally alien to anything human and healthy and natural and I think we need to start thanking the gods that it's something we can't empathise with. But here's what I do understand - on a 'logical' level, if not emotional/human:
Firstly, throughout history there has been no separation between rape and sex. We don't think about this today, but the concept of 'consent' is fairly new in culture: historically, a man claims a woman through sex/rape. When men say they want to 'break' a woman through sex, they're talking about rape. The idea that a woman is irreversibly changed through sex is a quiet acknowledgement of the fact that rape changes a woman. That's exactly why rape is a such a good 'claiming' tactic: it's a form of torture, and the resulting trauma will disrupt the woman's ability to make decisions, including the decision to leave.
Men who believe it's possible to claim a woman, that she can be 'damaged' by sex, are rape-supporters if not rapists themselves. They believe in the power of rape, not in terms of its practical damage of women but rather in the sacred power of rape in the Collective Male Heterosexual Domination Over Woman At All Costs. They may have been having what can be functionally called 'consensual sex' with the woman they're dating, but ultimately they don't believe in consent: whether or not they made her by force, took advantage of her whilst drunk, coerced her through financial means, pestered her until she gave in, 'wooed' her through gifts, or simply that she had been conditioned into finding a man and sleeping with him based on societal pressure, men make no distinction between these things: they are all 'claiming'. The idea that she consented is fundamentally useless here, because there's an existing framework that works perfectly well without it. So every time a man sleeps with a woman, the more 'human' ones would rather not traumatise her too bad because, well, that would look pretty bad on them - but they still want to claim her regardless. They still hang onto this belief that they've managed to rape her on a technicality and this whole 'consent' thing is something that feminists made up to pretend we're not being raped all the time. This man wanted to believe that he had claimed this woman, but if she's already been 'claimed' by multiple men first, he simply cannot get the idea out of his mind that she was already raped and broken by them a long time ago.
Men claim that they hate the idea of women 'having sex', with other men, but they don't believe that women experience sexual pleasure until they're 'broken'. They don't believe that women experience sexual pleasure until they have been sufficiently claimed, traumatised, and subsequently have 'given up'. Like everything women do, we're supposed to only want it when he wants it. In practice that means never really consenting, simply 'enjoying what's given to you'. Men's belief is that once they claim a woman, she will only ever enjoy sex with him - because 1. he is a super unique and mommy's specialist little guy and 2. because that's his reward for claiming her. Only he gets to see and cause sexual pleasure - that's his reward. Of course, he doesn't even care most of the time if he gives her pleasure, but he's supposed to be the only one who can. For this reason, men make no functional difference between a slut and a whore: women who seemingly enjoy sex are no different than those who are factually being used for sex: because consent never mattered, and men believe that rape is what causes women to enjoy sex. If women are going out and enjoying sex, that's because they're succumbing to the conditioning by men that's primed them to be raped easily, and their 'enjoyment' is a measure of their quick acceptance to be claimed. That's what makes women 'easy'. Women are supposed to play 'hard to get' because no one wants a trophy that's easily won: men want to claim women through sex, and they want to make sure they have been the first to give her that trauma so big enough that he will be in her mind forever. The stuff about 'loose vaginas' etc. are just a gish-gallop: all the nonsense and double standards about women being sluts is designed to distract from the fact that men have no distinction between sex and rape, and they use the trauma of rape to claim a woman.
Men already have a functioning framework that simplifies and categorises the world as to their liking: it's easier to believe that you can simply claim a human being as your slave with one easy act that trauma-bonds them to you forever. Men are bonded to each other in an existentially terrified Collective Male Heterosexual Domination Over Woman At All Costs. In this system, neither men nor women are whole human beings - but rather each is symbolic of something more important. And to men, women have to represent everything that men are not: men have to view themselves as better than women because otherwise they'd have to face the harsh reality of their biological redundancy. Men have put their entire stake into this idea that they're the creators, the providers, the protectors, the claimers. They are the true humans, and their violence is proof that they're exercising their full power of humanity - that is, their full power to want. The mere fact that women can be raped is proof that on a biological level we don't want sex enough, and thus we can't ever be fully human. To men, women represent the crudity of nature (including how it is fully capable of replicating itself without them needing to be involved), and it's a crudity that needs to be conquered and claimed. It's the only way they can prove they're 'better' than us.
Men envy female friendships because they see the positive impact that it has on our psyche - something more powerful than all the raping they've been doing. But if they admit that kindness and empathy are traits that make us human, and that destruction is a crudity of nature, then the sunk-cost fallacy of rape is laid clear. Since they form part of the Collective rather than merely being an individual who learns their lesson all too late, actual progress on this stance is incredibly slow if not impossible: they've built the entirety of society on this existential terror. Just like a tyrant who runs his country into the ground for his own ego, men are inherently irrational - because they're terrified of the basics of life and existence in a way women simply aren't. You know how if you know a meal is coming then you're OK with being hungry, as opposed to it not being near mealtime and you're suddenly hyper-focusing on how hungry you are? Men are like that with their entire lives. They will put up with all this immense psychological discomfort, they will throw away materially beneficial things all the time because if they hang on a little longer, mommy will come along and fix all their problems - she will 'feed his ego' by 'willfully' debasing herself to prove he's better than her. The only thing men care about preserving is that they're Super Special and Above Women: that's it. No real rational decisions can ever be made when your motive is to achieve something that is essentially a symbolic concept tha only exists in your mind. That is why men have 'fragile egos'.
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FFXIVWrite 2024 - Day 3: Tempest
late shadowbringers; contains major spoilers
———
“Are you lost, little one?”
Ahki raised her head at the deep voice, spoken in a tongue she both knew and didn’t. Familiar to her, as if she’d heard it spoken before, long ago, yet at the same time totally unfamiliar, the meaning carried only by the echo.
Yes. I am. I always have been, were the first words that came to mind. She by all means should be lost, walking the streets of this giant illusory city, in the depths of the ocean in a reflection not her own. Yet it wasn’t for that reason she felt that way.
The smooth pavement beneath her feet, though so different from the sand and soil she was used to, somehow felt almost as familiar. Too many days spent walking the streets of Limsa, perhaps, that the solid stone under foot felt just as normal as the loose sand dunes she would scramble up the sides of in races with her sisters. Be it at the shore, where they would look out at the ocean and be told of stories of the savage people of the north, or in the barren deserts inland, scars of her nation’s past.
She didn’t have to lie. She could agree, a half truth, ‘play along’ with this image the giants had of them. A lost child in the streets, a lost girl in the world. And so she didn’t.
She nodded up at the figure, letting her true feelings show. The fear, worry, anxiety, over anything and everything. “I can’t find my way home.”
It felt like it should’ve been an act, how vulnerable her own voice sounded. Yet was she wrong to? The memory of herself at the top of Mt. Gulg, hunched over on her knees, feeling as if her whole body was being torn apart from the inside out. The knowledge it could happen again at any moment. The fear, and concern she felt over G’raha Tia, who finally showed his face in a last stand to attempt to save her once more, just as he had way back then, before being shot down and taken away.
It was more of an act to pretend she wasn’t wrapped in a tempest of fear and anxiety; the name of the very ocean she found herself at the bottom of perhaps too fitting for her state of mind.
The man—giant, as Thancred had taken to referring to them—crouched over, still towering over her even on his knees. He reached out a hand, as if to comfort her, but withdrew it, as if out of fear of crushing her. A quivering pixie next to a towering talos. “Have no fear, child. I will help you find your way home.”
If only you could, Ahki thought. Home, at this point, was a vague, blurred concept. The Waking Sands, by Minfilia’s side, had been ‘home’ to her for a time. Then, the Rising Stones. The Falling Snows, even the Fortemps Manor could have counted for a while. Now, it was simply the Source, or even just her room in the Pendants at the Crystarium. The Exarch—G’raha, she could not stop thinking—had done so much to try and help her feel at home, she’d be lying if she said it didn’t help. But in the end, they were little more than temporary accommodation. A shelter for her to sleep under at the end of a long night’s hunting, to avoid the searing light of day. None of them were home.
The most terrifying part of the thought she could’ve died up on that mountain was the idea that she would be truly gone, without any chance to say goodbye. If by making her way to the bottom of the Tempest to fight Emet-Selch, and rescue the Exarch and this star, her own life could be spared too, then maybe it could be the albeit indirect truth.
Looking up at the Amaurotine, she was a frightened child, separated from her family once more. “Thank you,” was all she could say.
Help me, so that I may live long enough to find my way back.
#challenge for me to write ahki without it turning into how she misses home: failed#(literally though this was meant to be entirely different)#(and then. this happened instead.)#this is fine#ahki#ffxivwrite2024#ffxivwrite#ffxiv
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3x11: Our Town
I'm not gonna put the opening scenes in this post because I'm trying to keep it as short as possible. But if anyone wants those gifs, I have no problem taking gif requests, they'll just have to be in a separate post.
I hardly ever disagree with Bonnie, but this is one of those instances when I do. Jeremy is only 16. He can choose how he wants to live when he's 18. It's because Elena is 18 that she should do whatever she can to protect him. She's his guardian now, she's the one who has to make it right for him. As upsetting as that is for Bonnie, I would've done the same in Elena's shoes.
The founding families have complete control over what happens in Mystic Falls. Having power over the founding families gives Klaus that power, period. This pushes the founding families to put pressure on Stefan to give up the coffins. So while Klaus makes all the right moves, Stefan makes all the wrong ones. It's at this point, I feel the need to sum up Stefan's choices in 3x10 and 3x11...
By taking Klaus' coffins, Stefan put Jeremy at risk of death and got Alaric killed as Jeremy would've died had he not taken the hit. It's because Stefan didn't care what happened to Jeremy that Elena had to make her own deal with Klaus, then compel Jeremy out of town to keep him safe. So Stefan separated Elena from her brother and killed Alaric the one time it actually mattered... when his mind would split.
By killing one of Klaus' hybrids, Stefan then put Caroline at risk of death via werewolf venom, of which will result with Tyler leaving town to break his sire bond because she's the second person he put at risk with it - Jeremy being the first. So Stefan separated Caroline from her boyfriend.
Stefan then abducted Elena and threatened her on the bridge where her parents died. So when 3x22 rolls around and they've got Stefan home with Tyler, Caroline, and Elena… it's one of those things you gotta laugh at. Bonnie's episode is next and Stefan's not done with it. To be completely honest, his revenge fantasy against Klaus should've ended with him at the warehouse with Klaus' body instead of Damon. After all, it was HIS revenge. Aside from, he put everyone in grave danger, so he shouldn't be the one that gets to stay home. They need Damon out of town to turn his girlfriend into a vampire. This episode not only proves it, but foreshadows most of it.
Meredith: I hate that bridge. My senior prom date dumped me on this bridge. Alaric: Oh, yeah? Did you throw him over? Meredith: No, but I should have. I've been holding a grudge ever since. Meredith: Behold, my senior prom date. Alaric: Well, you definitely should have throw him over the bridge.
Stefan's entire revenge fantasy against Klaus is his grudge over losing Elena, and he should've driven her off the bridge when he fed her his blood. If you wanna know why Stefan can't flip Elena's switch at prom, Meredith is telling you why. They used the bridge to tie in the simple concept that Stefan lost Elena the moment he left town with Klaus, thus, he lost her when he crossed that bridge.
This is the bridge scene that matters. It's every bit 3x22.
The Salvatore deal was to keep Elena out of it. Revenge against Klaus was a journey for Damon and Stefan alone. Stefan actually breaks this only rule by using Elena to get to Klaus. "Stefan, leave her out of this." Klaus believes Stefan is bluffing and so much as tells Damon, "That kind of love never dies." Understand he's not referring to Elena's love for Stefan, he's speaking solely to Stefan's love for Elena. He not only believes Stefan is bluffing about killing her, he believes Stefan is bluffing about turning her into a vampire. After all, he's thinking the same as season 2 Elijah. She'll hate Stefan forever, and forever for a vampire is a very long time. There's no way "that kind of love" would want Elena hating him for eternity.
Stefan has Damon believing that his humanity switch is fried, so his humanity is central in this episode. Damon simply has no idea how far Stefan will go with his revenge plan, and while Stefan seeks revenge, Damon is forced to take over his role as peacemaker.
Damon: The only way to call someones bluff, Stefan, is to be willing to lose everything if you're wrong.
This comment of Damon's belongs on the bridge because Elena is "everything" to Stefan. He doesn't just threaten to kill Elena where her parents died. He threatens to turn her into a vampire, something he knows she never wants to be. He then follows it up by pretty much telling her that he can't be "just friends" with her, so all he has left is his revenge against Klaus. In a nutshell, their bridge scene is Stefan's parallel to Damon in season 5, only Damon doesn't threaten Elena.
"No, Elena, I can't be your friend. It's too damn hard. No, I'm serious, Elena - I can't see you anymore. I don't wanna hear your voice, I don't wanna talk to you, I don't even want to look at you, and I sure as hell don't want to be your friend."
This is every bit why Stefan has no problem threatening her on the bridge. It's too damn hard, so he's trying to get her to hate him. It's easier that way. "Is that what you're doing? Trying to make me hate you?" What's insane about season 3, is the fact that Stefan could've moved on after Klaus gave him his freedom. He didn't have to seek revenge, he chose to. The whole of the matter is that Tyler, Caroline, Jeremy, Elena, and Alaric are paying the price all because Stefan can't settle for a friendship with Elena.
His stupidity is just as insane. He tells Klaus, "Friends don't strip friends of their free will." This is the same guy that lied to Klaus all summer long. It's the very fact of the matter that Stefan knew he could face certain punishment should Klaus find out about Elena. I'm basically saying that Stefan is at fault for his own bs. He put himself in parallel with Jenna the moment he lied to Klaus and left town with him. Elijah flat-out told Stefan and Bonnie that Klaus killed Jenna because Damon meddled in his ritual when he rescued Tyler and Caroline. So yes, Stefan knew that he was facing punishment should Klaus find out. Klaus punishes people when they wrong him in such a way. It's his way of making sure they don't betray him again. Unlike Damon, who simply doesn't trust again. Unfortunately for Stefan, he hasn't gotten the point yet, so his revenge fantasy continues. When they have both Damon and Stefan referring to Stefan as the better villain, know that it's true. Stefan is the better vampire. But you should also know that everything is building for him. By this, I mean… everything Stefan needs for his 3x14 manipulation. He just doesn't use any of it until he's actualy ready to, and he's ready at the end of 3x13.
Klaus: Celebrate the fact that you're no longer bound by trivial human conventions. You're free. Caroline: No, I'm dying.
Klaus' comment to Caroline is fit for Delena's porch scene. I think 3x3 was the last time Damon hit Elena's boundary. Anyway... kissing her is that final boundary. What makes their porch scene is the difference between Damon and Elena. He's a vampire and she's human. "Otherwise you wouldn't put an alternate meaning behind everything you say." This is where I should remind fans of alternate meanings because it matters here. Damon and Elena both know the truth as to why he can't kiss her again. It's not because she doesn't feel the same way. It's because she does. They know that she'll return his kiss if he initiates it. While Damon feels it's right, just not right now… Elena feels it'll never be right because he's Stefan's brother. If he weren't Stefan's brother, they'd already be dating.
Because there's need to respect Elena's character, she's written complete opposite Caroline. In order for her to be free of human conventions, she has to die. Meaning… she has to die to be with Damon. It's not acceptable "human" behavior to date your ex-boyfriend's brother. However, something vampires can get away with. After all, it's not acceptable human behavior to kill, but they do. The writers are prepping Elena to become a vampire so that she can be with Damon without destroying her character. This is where Katherine's comment comes in. "Who needs rules?" Vampires have no rules.
Stefan: This is from the year you were born. I think we should celebrate. Elena: Celebrate what?
When Stefan plans to celebrate Elena's first feed, trust she won't be celebrating with him… she'll be celebrating with Damon in the fact that she's free of human conventions by feeding on him in the Grill bathroom lol
Tyler's sire bond involves three people: Klaus, Tyler, and Caroline. The Delena sire bond removes that third person, but fans can still see him if they look close enough. The Klaus aspect is brought into Delena's sire bond through Damon's second personality. This is how they put Klaus into Delena's sire bond…
I consider the sire bond as Damon's birthday gift.
"You said boyfriend dramas. Plural. What is it, Caroline?"
"The girl who had a normal life, and didn't fall in love with vampires."
Plural. The sire bond isn't really a question of Elena's love for Damon. It's a question of Elena's love for Stefan. Falling in love doesn't mean she's STILL in love. It's my belief that she un-fell for Stefan in 3x5. This is the lie that matters.
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Welcome to your message dear ones for in reality these messages constitute the receptivity and consciousness of the readers because there is only one. Just as you are the fullness of Divine Consciousness individualized, so are we and all who have chosen to express on other planets in forms that may differ from yours. No one is or ever has been created better, more special, or holier than another because there is only one life. Some are simply more awake than others.
We speak often of the intense personal and global clearings that are taking place at this time and it is important to understand that any energy unable to align with the refined frequencies of ascension will automatically clear or change and not just those that are fear based and traumatic. Many of you are experiencing a sense of sadness, depression, and of belonging nowhere as you realize that much that brought the "old you" happiness and satisfaction is finished and nothing seems to be replacing it.
Do not deny, resist, or ignore the past because remembering and moving through it is a facet of the clearing process. You may find yourself feeling nostalgia or a sense of loss as you ponder both the good and bad of childhood, youth, and young adult memories because things seemed easier when living commonly accepted beliefs.
Clinging to emotions of and nostalgia for the past gives them an energy that will affect your life, choices and decisions. Remember that as Divine Beings you are creators. Those who spend their lives trying to recreate the highlights of their past, or reliving them through constant retelling believe that these things constitute their personal value and worthiness.
Those living fully in a third dimensional state of consciousness will experience these beliefs, but those who are spiritually awake should consider nothing to have been wrong, a mistake, irrelevant, or accidental because the pre-birth decisions of the spiritually evolved are well planned and often intense with a long list of experiences they believe necessary for spiritual growth and even ascension--the completion of unfinished business with one or more and the clearing of remaining old energies while adding Light and awareness to the collective.
Those choosing to live from a third dimensional state of consciousness will continue to experience the effects of duality and separation but their spiritual evolution is a given. Free will allows a person to delay it and many are doing that, but it can never be stopped because ONEness with God is the reality underlying all that exists.
It is important to understand that nothing real is ever lost because everything seen, heard, tasted, smelled, and touched in the material world is a three dimensional interpretation of its spiritual reality. The dissolving of the current form of some belief, idea, or thing will simply allow it to manifest in higher and better forms as consciousness evolves. You are seeing this now as increasingly more people are starting to disregard many long held concepts about people and life in favor of ways that are fairer and more loving.
Allow the process, dear ones. Human minds are unable to understand much of what is taking place physically, emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually because human minds draw from the collective and not from within. In attempts to serve you the mind may send warnings of something wrong as new and higher frequencies integrate and clearings manifest as pain or some physical issue. Talk to the cells of your body telling them not to fear but rather allow the incoming higher resonating light energies to replace the dense vibrations they are accustomed to.
Know that you are pure consciousness, bodies of Light that appear material in the low resonating energy of present day earth. You may own a car, but you never become the car. You may travel in an airplane but never become the airplane. You are not a bright ball that you see inside or outside your physical body. You are not a spot between your eyes. Nothing exists separate from Consciousness so cease seeking to connect to a concept of God outside of you.
Accept that every life--people of all colors, animals, trees and plants, are pure Divine Consciousness. Just as you speak of a body of water, think of yourself as a body of God.
In our last message we spoke of the still small voice. Many serious students of truth become discouraged waiting for a voice that never seems to come. It is imperative that you let go of any and all old religious concepts about how the still small voice should or will manifest. The still small voice is silent and you may or may not be aware of it although occasionally it does take the form of a loud voice if that is what is necessary for safety or a needed wake up call. Know that even if you are not aware of it, whenever you sincerely open yourself to the Divine within there is connection, Meditation is NEVER a failure.
The still small voice is the conscious experiencing of the activity of Divine Consciousness individualized as your own SELF when your own consciousness is in alignment with IT/ SELF. Divine Consciousness is infinitely expressing the fullness of ITself in, as and though all IT's expressions.
Regardless of appearances, every person is the fullness and not just a part of the one omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient Divine Consciousness. When a person attains a state of consciousness able to align with the Divine Consciousness of their own being, IT automatically manifests ITs qualities through them because the door has been opened.
Mind, being an avenue of awareness and interpreter, translates the completeness, wholeness, abundance, intelligence, harmony, etc. etc. of your own Divinity into what is needed because it now has access to the substance of all form. Be careful that you do not hold concepts of how or what those forms should be. Let omniscience determine that.
Most of you have already experienced the activity of your oneness but were not aware of it--A needed answer that seems to come from nowhere, the solution to some problem, an idea for an invention, a new avenue of supply, even finding the perfect home or car to buy. This flow of God qualities is not random, but rather personal to each person. The surgeon will not get ideas about how to fix a car (unless that is what is needed) and the mechanic will not be shown a new surgical technique.
Because Divine Consciousness is all that is, IT knows only ITself. The illusory dreams of conditioned human minds do not exist in Divine Mind which makes praying to God for material things useless and foolish.
Seek the source and substance of things rather than things themselves for when you have the substance (consciousness), you automatically have its manifestations. Seeking the concepts of good while ignoring their substance constitutes the human condition.
Anything created from duality, separation, and two powers must come and go, be good or bad, alive or dead, sick or well, rich or poor etc. because these energies have no real substance to maintain or sustain their expressions.
Look only to Divine Consciousness which is closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet.
We are the Arcturian Group.
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—𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼—
11. How do you feel about nicknames/pet names? If you like them, what pet names do you use? If you hate them, why do you feel that way?
Kou:
“I like pet names, it's cute and endearing. Naturally I call Kuron my Neko because that's exactly what he is, a cutie and an adorable neko~”
“What kinda couple doesn't use pet names?”
Kuron:
“I'm okay with it— just with him. Though at first I didn't quite like it with him referring me as a cat—But in time I came to accept it because well—Lets just say, it comes with a history.”
“I call him Master...in a sense it pairs playfully with the concept since I'm the 'cat' , the cat and it's Master. But sometimes ‘Master’ is used as a form of respect, since I very much respect Kou like a superior, an impact of which he was a hero to me in the past. And another connotation which lies as the similarity call of a 'Hubby' of another tradition, de rigeur but of the older days. ”
12. Do you have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are you fairly independent?
Kou:
“I'm okay with a little time apart from work, we both travel for weeks up to a month just for work so it's not in our control at times. But we make time to always keep in touch ~”
“Although, Kuron is the one that's always away from home and working without me.”
Kuron:
“I'm fairly independent, as long as he doesn't vanish without a note for hours without updating me his condition and status quo. The only issue I have with being apart is being over worried over his well being while he's away, he can be ignorant with phonecalls and texts when he becomes very engaged. Sometimes the great anxiety would drive me to the point of landing a flight to the destination of where he is just to make sure he's okay—”
Kou:
“—Ohh he would definitely do that-”
“There was one time I accidentally passed out from exhaustion after work, right when I was outstation and staying at a hotel. The next thing I knew, Kuron was banging outside my hotel room door with the most worried expression on his face. It was...both cute and worrying at the same time since he just appeared out of nowhere. Though try and I might now, I wouldn't want him doing that again-”
Kuron:
“...Son of a gun—You didn't respond to my spam texts and your phone wasn't going through, I was worried sick and had no information whatsoever of which specific site of the city you're at, I had to ring your company just to make known of which hotel you stayed in—luckily they kept track of it, or else I would've interrogate the entire city of hotels just to look for you—Geez...”
Kou:
“And now I know better than to let my phone die while I'm away. No telling what this man would've done if I actually went missing. But it's nice to know that I have someone looking out for me~”
“He had the most frantic expression on his face, his whole body was trembling, he was covered in sweat, panting, his eyes were red....meanwhile I literally just got woken up from my supposedly beauty sleep—”
13. How do you keep in contact when apart? Do you write letters, talk on the phone, or simply wait out the time?
Kuron:
“...We mostly keep in touch through mobile devices, I text him more often than normal when he's away, I'm just too much of worrywart when it comes to him...”
“But when it's my turn to be away, we would often connect through the webcam on my PC, given if my outstation from home comes in as an extended period and I happen to stay up late working that night, I don't usually talk while busy working and Kou always suggest to video call in silence where he spectates as I work. ”
Kou:
“Yup that sounds about right. And during those those times I would actually fall asleep on the chair~”
14. Do you enjoy PDA, or are you more private with affection?
Kou:
“PDA all the way. I see absolutely nothing wrong with that, hehe~”
Kuron:
“I don't mind it. Well—not in the present, before, I would withdraw from them for the sake of public image and our career concerns. ”
15. What songs remind you of your relationship?
Kou:
“Ohh what's that one song...you know the one—”
Kuron:
“Theres a few songs that remind us of our relationship actually.”
※Kuron's Edition:
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
youtube
16. Would you ever get matching tattoos? If yes, what would they look like?
Kuron:
“Oh yes we did—Though sadly we had to remove them due to the disapproval of our companies back then— But I'm thinking of convincing them again if it's okay to do so now since our relationship has been disclosed, they were very cool and give off a rather dynamic vibe. Kou, do you still have the photos with you?”
Kou:
“I think I still have that thing stored...somewhere...I think...where is it...Ah, found it~”
Kuron:
“...Oh, uh—Please don't question of the... scenario poses—”
17. How well do you communicate? Are you open with your feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?
Kou:
“There's not much for us to hide from each other since we're both pretty direct about what we like and don't like. Sometimes I think Kuron's a little too blunt with how he talks and conveys but that's just how he is.”
Kuron:
“Well...it depends, for me. Sometimes I can be too blunt and it'll result to hurting his feelings, when that happens I'll be thrown into the depths of conscience stricken and regret for being too honest...But then again, I'd always prefer to be honest than hide secrets from him. Regardless the consequences I'll be given to bear with later. ”
18. How do you care for each other when one of you are wounded/sick?
Kou:
“Well of course it's a full step process. But normally when he does get sick, there's all the works. Giving him pets, comfort, helping him get comfortable in any way whether it's needing a change of clothing or helping him clean, making sure he's always kept in my arms while I shower him with love and comfort and assurance.” “And not a moment is allowed where I'm going to let him even more more than 2 feet from the bed so I'll tend to everything that he needs.”
Kuron:
“Eh, the usual cliché or all cliché — Tending to his side at all times— If he's that sick to the point of bedridden then I would take a few days of leaves from work or postpone my concert sessions till the later date, stay home and take care of him up till he recovers. With me by his side he wouldn't so much as get wounded as any attacks towards him will be dodged by me in the nick of time.”
19. Do you wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?
Kou:
“I think we've done that...or I've done that as a gag once before, or a few times but not really that often. He and I have pretty different tastes in style and fashion so there's not much in our closet that we can share with each other.”
Kuron:
“He steals my coat for afternoon naps sometimes, it's weird but I don't mind it—but that's for the purposes of cuddling and nothing to do with fashion. Kou's absolutely right about we have different tastes in style if that's not obvious enough visibly—I like tight fitting clothes that expose skin; he likes loose ones like hoodie that doesn't show off his fitness.”
“Same goes for jewellery, but then again our accessories are pretty constant on us and rarely vary widely. ”
20. How do you comfort each other when one of you are upset? Is this method of comfort effective?
Kou:
“Ahh, heh, I think I'll leave this question to him—”
Kuron:
“...I think I responded a question that comes off quite similar as this—but whatever.”
“Being present is the best form of comfort for somebody—same goes to him. I tend to be next to him or inside the same room with him as a way to show that he's not alone when facing anything. Depends on what kind of upset this is categorized as, if it's the anger, frustrated kind, I'll see if he wants me around because sometimes solitary is craved for one to cool down from a fuss, but if my presence is welcomed, I'll just sit next to him in silence, and attempt to soothe his condition by giving him gentle rubs and strokes on the back until he's calmed down enough to rest his head on my shoulder, a gradual sign that he'd slowly start to chill out.”
“If it's the miserable, dismal kind, a hug is all it takes for him to slowly settle down at ease again, knowing I'm there to care for him and wipe his tears away. Followed by words of affiliation to drive away his worrie—”
“Why can't you retort your part to this question anyway?? Am I that inconsolable to you that you have nothing to spare—”
Kou:
“Well of course you're not. I do all the same too. It's just for me, since I don't have a good track record of comforting at times.”
“But if it's all the same, we both do the same. Giving him a hug when he needs it, or giving him space and time to cool off on his own when he needs to. Though if I'm the one he's upset with, that's a different story hehe.”
“But usually when he's stressed out, which is the main reason, and just overwhelmed, being ever present is the best you could do. Stroking his back, hugging him tight, maybe even treating him to his favourite snack or activities, or even a little gift to take his mind of it.”
“It usually works out is what I can say.”
—𝓣𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭—
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Spiritual Potency, the Loss & the Recovery thereof: from Adapa (Adam) to Gilgamesh to the End Times
How God created Man and men in Sumer, Akkad and Egypt fashioned the mankind by creating gods
Emperor Ashurnasirpal II (883-859 BCE) appears twice, dressed in ritual robes and holding the mace symbolizing authority; he makes a gesture of worship to Ashur depicted in a winged disc. In front of him there is the Sacred Tree of Life. Excavated by: Sir Austen Henry Layard (May 1846) in the North West Palace of Kalhu (today's Nimrud), North Iraq (then Ottoman Empire)
The present text is not a concise essay; it does not therefore cover all the topics related to the series of historical developments herein mentioned. Being part of a long exchange of emails with a friend, it merely offers readers the chance to become better acquainted with historic events that are mentioned in almost all sacred texts but comprehended poorly and confusingly. A constant but truly disastrous human mistake is the projection of assumptions, conventional thoughts, and situations from our environment onto past circumstances that were however very different. In this regard, the present text will be very helpful as it will instigate the conscious reader into active reconsidering and systematic reassessing several hitherto unquestioned conclusions that are certainly wrong.
Contents
Introduction
I. Ra, Isis and Kabbalah
II. Messiah-Christ-Mahdi: a pre-Biblical, eschatological concept
III. The Tree of Life, its loss, and its eschatological recovery
IV. Two kinds of priesthood for the descendants of Noah and a separate, third, priesthood for the incestuous remnants of sinful descendants of Adam
V. Creation, spirituality, the loss thereof (as consequence of successive falls), and its eschatological recovery
VI. Spirituality from the Flood to the Late Antiquity
VII. Spirituality, the five elements, and the wrong sources of modern Western mystics
Introduction
Many people today confuse the human soul with the mind, the heart, and the solar plexus that are the pillars on which the human character is founded, built, gradually developed and ultimately formed; that is wrong. The human character is definitely not the human soul. Only few days after the death, the body and the character start getting disintegrated, whereas the soul is immortal. As part of the spiritual universe, the human soul is a particular spiritual entity, which is ascribed to a nascent body (embryo) at the very moment of its birth.
Due to conscious (and at times unconscious) synergy between the soul and the body, a human can perform 'miracles'. All those 'miracles', like every similar act that was performed by Jesus and described in Gospels, were not truly speaking miracles but the result of spiritual potency, i.e. spiritual-material (bodily) synergy.
In fact, the narratives are true, but miracles do not exist. Simply, humans have been first fooled about the spiritual universe, which is also inside each being, because we all have souls and everything created within the material universe corresponds to its spiritual hypostasis (or soul); and at a second (and worst) level, humans have been deceived and dissociated from their souls, which in turn results in lack of spiritual potency and in the subsequent formation of the belief in 'miracles'. I will now offer few practical examples of spiritual potency, so that no one has any doubt about my approach to the topic:
A man with spiritual potency is able not to allow a bullet shot at him to penetrate his body and kill him. Back in the 1930s, it was reported that the great Hindu sage and mystic Mahatma Gandhi used to just watch English military airplanes (targeting the people of a city that had revolted against the English rule) and make it sure that the bombs dropped fell elsewhere without killing anyone.
A man with spiritual potency is able to physically walk on the sea or lake water or in the air, to be corporeally present somewhere without being seen by those who are present there, to instantly transfer himself bodily to a remote location, to literarily walk nearby wild beasts without being attacked or threatened by them, as well as to naturally stay in the depths of the oceans and deep inside the Earth without any difficulty, consequence or side-effect.
Furthermore, a man with spiritual potency is able to hide objects or physically transfer them to remote locations, make them speak, and instantly change their shape, to interact (or 'speak') with many spiritual beings, souls, spirits, intelligences and hierarchies, to bodily move back in time and invisibly attend a well-known or an unknown historical scene (meeting, conference, battle, liturgy or other event); and so on.
--------------------- Response to a friend -------------------------
My dear friend,
Thank you for the attachments, your continuous interest, your comprehensive response, and the critical points of discussion that you raise!
Recently, I wrote extensive letters to you because I wanted you to have an accurate understanding of my encounter with the spiritual universe, and of my explorations, ruminations and polarizations in view of a methodically ameliorated comprehension of the interaction between the spiritual and the material halves of all humans. For me, it is this interaction that generated History. That's why I don't believe that what people call "History" has been only the outcome of material components and constituents. I therefore try to always highlight the spiritual dimensions of the developments that took place on Earth. Consequently, it is only normal that with great joy I read your sentence "As I see you have already the basis for spiritual science, it would be a pleasure for me to give you a few hints".
I. Ra, Isis and Kabbalah
Speaking about Kabbalah, you refer to the "the magic of the word"; to me, this fact became first understood through Ancient Egyptian sacred texts as per which Isis is the only to know the true name of Ra. I interpret this narrative as revelatory that only the spiritual ancestors of the Ancient Freemasons and Rosicrucians (i.e. Isis) had this knowledge, whereas the spiritual ancestors of the Jesuits (Nephthys) did not. I understand the beginning of the Gospel by John; in fact, it is a Gnostic text. From this point to the Jesuit-promoted concept, heretic Russian Orthodox dogma, and Catholic infiltration attempt of Imiaslavie (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imiaslavie) the distance is small.
All the same, it is my conviction that, by using the term 'word" for the description of Kabbalah-related exercises and endeavors, people only get confused. I believe that the truly correct term should be "sound"; this is the correct meaning of all formulas collected and analyzed by Franz Bardon. Their spiritual value is effective when they are uttered / pronounced; not when they are merely evoked in the mind of a person!
And yes! I fully agree with what you say "The book by Franz Bardon about the Kabbalah is the only one on our globe teaching the spiritual practice of this science.".
II. Messiah-Christ-Mahdi: a pre-Biblical, eschatological concept
Following my historical researches on Jesus, which were spearheaded by my studies of Robert Ambelain's books, I realized that Jesus was not the Messiah or Christ whom the Ancient Hebrews were said to expect to come at the End of Time. But when I studied Assyriology and Egyptology, I realized (as early as 1980) that the Biblical and later the Christian and then Islamic concepts of Messiah-Christ-Mahdi are nothing more than adaptations and localizations of the Ancient Assyrian-Babylonian monotheistic concepts of Ninurta and Etana (two parallel perceptions of the concept of a Savior coming at the end of Times), and of the (equally monotheistic) Ancient Egyptian concept of Horus. Furthermore, several episodes of the Anatolian Hittite eschatological myth and sacred text 'Ullikummi' have been passed onto the Christian Book of the Revelation, whereas the Hittite Messiah Tasmisu managed to save the central city of the End Time days at the last moment, finally vanquishing Ullikummi, the monster that came out of the Sea (: the Antichrist).
That this approach to the Ancient Oriental civilizations is embarrassing to all, namely the Zionists, the Freemasons and the Jesuits, I can understand easily. The traditional method of academic interpretation renders all these eschatological texts mere myths that no specialist truly attempts to systematically interpret and analyze.
This situation was a constant parameter and a question that I repeatedly made to myself during my postgraduate and doctoral studies:
- Why do Biblical theologians, who study a Biblical text during the seminar (first discussing issues pertaining to the script, the language-lexicography, the grammar and the syntax), offer also a historico-religious interpretation of the text under study (of let's say Isaiah 53), whereas Orientalists teaching the Descent of Ishtar to the Nether world limit their courses only to the first section of analysis?
In any case, the fact that Jesus was not the Messiah-Christ is also confirmed by a simple fact: there cannot be a Messiah (or Savior) without the End of Time; and apparently, the time of the Roman Emperor Tiberius was not the End of Time – which means that no Messiah appeared then.
III. The Tree of Life, its loss, and its eschatological recovery
I can perhaps accept your statement ("In Kabbalah the hierarchy is called 'Tree of Life'.") but only as a metaphor. It is my absolute conviction that the Tree of Life is a real, material and spiritual, Tree, which was at the epicenter of the original Paradise. By preferring the Tree of Knowledge to the Tree of Life, Adapa (Adam in Hebrew) only condemned his posterity to 'fall'. By so doing, he provoked a series of other falls, which will be outmaneuvered and canceled only at the End of Time, following many unprecedented destructions and ruinations. Actually, this is the nucleus of every known eschatological concept and soteriological dogma from the times of the Sumerians, the Akkadians-Assyrians-Babylonians, the Egyptians and the Hittites down to our days. Further 'falls' occurred to Mankind, more paragraphs were added to the apocalyptic myths and the soteriological texts.
Many people understand that "as above so below", but few people realize that "as before so after". There is no such thing as "doomsday"; it is not an independent event or a terminal development; those who believe such nonsense are either fools or liars. A rather early phase of the End Times may eventually be described as "doomsday", but this is only the gate to the original Paradise re-established. That is why Fathers of the Christian Church and Christian theologians (thinking that he was the Messiah) named Jesus "New (or Last) Adam" (1 Corinthians 15:45-58). The final Savior will be as spiritually powerful as Adam before the original sin (which caused the fall).
Every well-founded spiritual quest is therefore the search for the Tree of Life; I surely understand very well why so many mystics in so many, different, socio-cultural environments were so obstinately determined not to allow thoughts in their minds. This is a paramount effort of self-purification. Thoughts are useless forms of self-destruction. Adam, before his sin, did not 'think'; he did not need to. Angels do not think; souls, spirits, spiritual intelligences, and other hierarchies of the non-material universe do not think. Will (voluntas) is unrelated to thinking.
Cogito ergo non sum: this truth demonstrates the rotten foundations of the Western world. And you, my dear friend, as a consistent and experienced mystic, certainly know very well that Siegfried's death in Götterdämmerung is only the result of 'thinking' (and betrayal). But this was already very well known to the Ancient Mesopotamians, who used to identify 'thinking' as a parameter of the perilous domain of Enlil (: Air) and, to avert all troubles, recognized 'wisdom' as possible without thinking and as a dimension of the realm of Ea (: Soft Waters).
And by eliminating all thoughts and evacuating their subconscious, the Assyrian emperors and high priests were able to bring the Tree of Life back to Nineveh. They even were spiritually conscious and empowered to stipulate that the Tree of Life was one and three at the same time, as it was reflected at the center of the City of the Nether World and at the Gates of the Firmament.
I believe that real spiritual potency combined with transcendental moral (which is inherent to all created beings) enables humans to rise to the level of sanctity; then, the materialization (: the material appearance) of the 'Sole Tree' (: Tree of Life) in a spot, which is part of the -secret and unknown to most- holy land, can take place. But this is not up to anyone. When it happens, it will have worldwide impact and it will bring forth incalculable changes, totally changing everything in the everyday life of all the people. This is what happened in Nineveh in the 9th-8th c. BCE and for this development to be completed Prophet Jonah was dispatched there, having the absolute success that he had and contributing to the subsequent events, which irrevocably linked Assyria to the End Times. For this reason Jesus and the Quran referred to the Men of Nineveh as returning at the End Times, and to the conclusive role that they will play in rejecting and terminating "this generation" (: the prevailing system before the eschatological termin).
IV. Two kinds of priesthood for the descendants of Noah and a separate, third, priesthood for the incestuous remnants of sinful descendants of Adam
I am glad to know that you agree with the concept of the "two kinds of priesthood" which is a constituent element of my approach to World History and a constant point of reference in many of my articles. Identifying the "good ones" with Isis (namely the spiritual ancestors of pre-modern Freemasonry) and the "evil ones" with Nephthys (i.e. the predecessors of the modern Jesuits), I exclude Zionism from both.
Actually, I don’t believe that Zionism has anything to do with historical Judaism and the descendants of the Hasmonean Jews. In fact, Zionists hijacked Judaism, stripping (Sephardic, Romaniote, Mizrahi and Yemenite) Jews of all of their Biblical and eschatological visions and expectations, and making them theirs. Actually, Zionism is the filthy product of a bastard population which does not originate from Noah but from Adam, but has been contaminated with the seed of one generation of Giants.
Early known as the (antediluvian) Guti, they infiltrated among the early Turanian Kassites whom they helped (after the Hittite sack of Babylon - 1596 BCE) by means of treachery and black magic to invade Babylon and establish a counterfeit and devilish dynasty in Mesopotamia. After Elam overthrew the Kassites and the Assyrians invaded and annexed Babylon, the Kassites formed a powerful polytheistic and idolatrous clique of priests who fueled anti-Assyrian paroxysm and survived all Assyrian invasions.
They induced Nebuchadnezzar to invade the tiny, marginal and unimportant Judah enclave in order to deliberately transport the totality of the Jewish population to Babylonia and thus expose them to efficient Kassite Zionist infiltration. By nominally accepting 7th c. BCE Judaism as religion and by arranging intermarriages, the Kassite Zionists (later known as Gog and Magog and more recently identified as Khazars) intended to substitute themselves to the Jews, rewrite and readjust the Bible at will, thus removing and adding paragraphs and sentences; they were the moving force behind the composition of Talmud to which not one pre-Exilic layman, priest, king or prophet would have ever ascribed himself.
V. Creation, spirituality, the loss thereof (as consequence of successive falls), and its eschatological recovery
Yes, I accept everything that you say in your paragraph about Christian Rosenkreuz and the earlier stages of spiritual initiation, but I find it very brief as diagram and very modest as description particularly if we take it into account, when exploring the spiritual potency which existed as inherent to all humans but later vanished from among the average people. That is why I intend now to present to you for the first time my complete perception and interpretation of the topic, namely the presence or absence of spiritual potency among humans and the true destination of Life and Creation. This is going to be the main part of my present response.
The present average human was not created by God; his condition is the result of many, successive falls, which correspond to different sins (in terms of thoughts, sentiments, desires, words and deeds) that contravened the Divine Order of Creation which is inherent to any being and which is called 'Moral' within religious context. So, to be accurate, today's man is the product of the consequences of earlier generations that go back to Adapa (Adam), the early Man whom God created.
And while all parts of the Creation have their spiritual counterparts (and this renders the division of the modern discipline of Chemistry into Organic and Inorganic a vicious and deliberate trickery), Adam was an outstanding marvel as he was able to perform hitherto unfathomable 'miracles', which are not at all extraordinary or unbelievable (as today's fallen, trivial, miserable, idiotic and pathetic humans think), but simply ordinary, regular deeds that may be absolutely necessary for the purpose of the Creation.
Naming animals, reptiles and birds (but not the fish) is an activity reported as part of the Creation, because by designating the name of these creatures, in fact Adam attributed to them their functions and traits as if he had been in a way their creator.
However, a considerable part of this spiritual potency was lost due to the early sin, which clearly involved thought, calculation, interest, and exposure to desire and lust. This is not only a simple matter of narrative, but also a clear indication of how the inherent (to all beings) code of the Creation functions. It is not God who punishes, but man who, by indulging himself into what he was not created for, gets exposed to the consequences of his 'impermissible' thoughts, sentiments, desires, words and deeds.
In fact, there is nothing 'impermissible' to humans, because Man was created free, but for everything there is an inevitable consequence. What the story of Adam and Eve reveals is that sex is evil, and therefore human reproduction as per the Order of the Creation was absolutely unrelated to the sexual intercourse, as this act has been viewed in the Late Antiquity and during the Christian, Islamic and Modern times.
All the same, the pictorial representation of the Ancient Egyptian concepts of fertility and reproduction lets us understand that the body members, which are used for reproduction, are the same, but their original functionality differed greatly from the paradisiac times to the post-paradisiac epochs. In this regard, it is essential to state that the act of reproduction was void of lust, because it was performed in total synergy between soul and body.
For this reason, according to the Ancient Egyptian Iwnw Heliopolitan dogma, when after the dismemberment of Osiris by Seth, Isis recollected the parts of the Human Well Being (: this is the real meaning of the Ancient Egypt name 'Wser', which was later distorted to 'Osiris' in Ancient Greek and Latin), she made a replica for the lost male part, which was "tossed into the river, and the lepidotus, the sea-bream, and the pike had fed upon it" (Plutarch's Moralia, De Iside et Osiride 18). Isis consecrated the phallus, but it is explicitly said that the phallus is only a simulacrum of the original male member.
The first fall must have had an enormous impact notably on the fauna; it would be absurd to think that God created wild animals. Simply, the successive falls of the Man affected them greatly; there are plenty of Biblical passages and eschatological literature as per which the original condition will be reestablished after the End Times (example: "The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them"; Isaiah 11, 6).
In spite of the loss of spiritual potency, the original humans were still extraordinarily formidable and dreadful to all animals; the evolutionist scheme as per which the early humanoids had to permanently fight hard for their survival is sheer nonsense and utter aberration. In fact, various absurd theories, inconsistent assumptions, and scientific frauds, such as Darwinism, Marxism-Leninism (historical materialism), evolutionism and several other absolutely preposterous philosophical systems were treacherously adopted by academic circles thus conditioning the direct and pertinent understanding of ancient sacred texts, other historical sources, and the archaeological record.
Despite the loss of spiritual potency, the early humans were still omnipotent beings that could carry out prodigious exploits and magnificent works; this was due to the fact that they were still able to master their own electromagnetic fluids far better than the Latvian-American mystic and scientist Edward Leedskalnin (1887-1951), who first quarried and sculpted, and then transported to another location (Homestead, Florida) more than 1100 short tons of limestone (1 short ton is 907 kg) completely alone with the use of modest tools and the help of a truck driver. Explaining how he was doing the monumental structure, he called upon the skills and the capacities of the early pyramid architects and builders.
Many people admire Leedskalnin's exploits, but unfortunately, few people manage to notice (let alone assess and evaluate) key points of his life example; even fewer are capable of making the equation. Abstinence and celibacy (or chastity), rigorousness and austerity were evident to all who met him. But this means exactly what I already stated for the original Man; he was apparently created to steer clear of thought, calculation, interest, desire and lust. And this is exactly what the life examples of the prophets, as well as the behavioral standards left by selected emperors, high priests, and mystics, demonstrate.
Consequently, it is safe to claim the following:
1- Lust triggered the fall, which brought about a significant loss of spiritual potency;
2- Loss of spiritual potency caused further lust and other sins (thus starting a vicious circle); and
3- Spiritual potency recovery is impossible without elimination of lust and other sins.
As a matter of fact, numerous conspiracy theories, earlier unheard fallacies, such as the assumption about the existence of the so-called 'Extraterrestrials', and many other fraudulent postulations started being propagated in the late 19th c.: this was due to the fact that people have been gradually approaching to the End Times, when the most complicated lies and the most absurd delusions will be propagated. These monstrously devilish attempts occurred because of the determination of the evil priesthoods, which rule today's world, to permanently keep all the humans captive of deceptions, which prevent them from liberating themselves from the compact falsehood in which they have been living.
For these counterfeit and blasphemous religious leaders, it is definitely essential to prevent humans from attempting to reestablish synergy of the body and the soul in themselves. So, you understand that almost all those, who speak today against the so-called New World Order and the established academic disciplines, are integral parts of the evil system, as long as they do not admonish all the humans to focus on abstinence, celibacy, and departure (lit. exodus) from today's Western societies, as well as to deploy an overwhelming effort in order to achieve spiritual consciousness. Deception, delusion and lie were the first acts of this demoniacal priesthood, and the same nature will characterize their last acts, when they will perish in the years of upheaval during the End Times.
All the same, in spite of the existence of masterful paragons of faith like Enoch (Idris), the original fall generated conditions of life in which humans started being prone to further sins. The quintessence of those transgressions were due to the slow formation of what people now call "ego", which grows fed on thoughts, calculations, interests, sentiments, and desires, thus dragging the spiritual-material individual far from the purpose of the Creation and the inherent code of the Creation. This nefarious situation proved to be extremely useful to some evil people.
It is in Mesopotamia around the middle of the 4th millennium BCE, when we first notice that within the same early urban center some edifices start becoming larger than the rest. There are only two per agglomeration: the palace and the temple. This rivalry, as it is documented first due to archaeological data and second thanks to the early historical sources (3250-2750 BCE), bears witness to the first tensions within the then united priesthood, enabling us to correctly interpret the rise of the polytheism as an heresy and an effort to personalize, depict and humanize the Divine.
In striking opposition to the early kings and the monotheistic priesthoods that were associated to them, the devious clergy, which supported the primary sacerdotal forerunners, intended to enslave the local population and by means of falsehood to render them dependent on intermediaries between the so-called 'gods' and the humans. This was the foremost postulation of the wicked priesthood: the humans alone cannot contact God. It goes without saying that this aberration is direct rejection of the Creation.
The malicious attempt of subordination and enslavement of the early humans to some supposedly necessary 'priests' is called 'religion'; it killed spirituality, limiting the humans to merely material functions and therefore bestializing them. The evil, absurd, and inhuman claim that Man necessitates an intermediary between him and God is the epitome of Satanism. From the deeds of those days to the final split of the early sacerdotal college in Sumer, several hundreds of years passed. Insane attempts and numerous trials of promiscuous intermarriages took place back at those days, and they left an impact on the local societies, as they were repeatedly mentioned in posterior historical sources; for example, the Assyrians, considering themselves as the only true humans (in Mesopotamia), namely the descendants of the Sumerians and the Akkadians, irrevocably denounced several unclean races, notably the Guti, the Elamites, and the Kassites, as abnormal and inhuman.
It was only normal that these calamitous developments totally dissociated humans from their souls and caused further detrimental loss of spiritual potency. The evil priesthood -of which the terminal continuity is represented today by Vatican and the Jesuits- wanted to also destroy the link between men and animals, which goes back to Adam. That is why they forced the fallen humans of the antediluvian world to kill animals in order to hypothetically obtain spiritual power by taking possession of their souls. This was a lie; it could never happen and it never happened. But due to this delusion, an unnecessary, yet enormous, bloodshed took place, plunging the disoriented and victimized human into grave immorality, polytheistic superstitions, exorbitant delusions, abject materialism, black magic (representation of animals that had to be sacrificed), and utter misery.
VI. Spirituality from the Flood to the Late Antiquity
The divine punishment and the dissolution of the early society were narrated in several sacred texts as the Flood; erroneous readings, naïve considerations, and superficial approaches to Assyrian-Babylonian and other, posterior, historical sources and divine literature led to tremendous misjudgment and protracted confusion as regards this disproportionate event and phenomenal circumstance, which left an irrevocable stamp on the History of Mankind. Actually, it is not for nothing that Jesus established a parallel between the days of Ut Napishtim (Noah / Nuh) and those of the End Times.
Gullible researchers and foolish scholars, who still accept the narrative, think that the Flood was due to intense and overwhelming rain; that's hilarious! Even if all the lands and seas, continents and oceans are covered by clouds and if it rains all over the surface of the Earth, it will be practically impossible for the level of water to rise by 200 or 300 m, let alone thousands of meters as various sacred texts stipulate.
The deliberate disregard for, if not concealment of, the Biblical text (Genesis 7, 11) only contributes to the cosmological and geological bewilderment of mankind; but the text is very accurate: "on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened" (Septuagint: τῇ ἡμέρᾳ ταύτῃ ἐῤῥάγησαν πᾶσαι αἱ πηγαὶ τῆς ἀβύσσου, καὶ οἱ καταῤῥάκται τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἠνεῴχθησαν; Vulgata: rupti sunt omnes fontes abyssi magnae et cataractae caeli apertae sunt; Masoretic text: בַּיּ֣וֹם הַזֶּ֗ה נִבְקְעוּ֙ כׇּֽל־מַעְיְנֹת֙ תְּה֣וֹם רַבָּ֔ה וַאֲרֻבֹּ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם נִפְתָּֽחוּ׃). In fact, it was a stern and formidable development, which involved unprecedented fractures of the Earth's crust and the break (: opening) of the Firmament.
Many people fail to notice that the descriptions attested in sacred texts about the antediluvian world present a natural environment totally different from the one that we see today; even worse, they fail to understand that this contrast is actually true and that the Earth that God created was also very distinct in shape and contents from what surrounds us now. In other words, it is completely wrong to imagine or believe that God created deserts, steppes, savannahs, and swamps, and that the seas (salt waters) occupied a so vast surface as in the postdiluvian world. There too, the perfect world after the End Times, a topic that is the object of several soteriological narratives, presents considerable analogies with the original antediluvian environment, which is what God created.
In Ancient Mesopotamia, which is the cradle of World History, we find
a- 'prophetic' or 'apocalyptic' texts about the Flood (which were written before the event),
b- historical texts about the Flood (which were written after the event but detailed the downward spiral of circumstances that had occurred in the antediluvian society of Akkad, leading it to ultimate collapse and decomposition), and
c- mythological texts about the Flood (which were written later for spiritual, religious and educational purposes, therefore involving symbols, analogies, specific terms, and codified descriptions that became the foundations of the transcendental comprehension of the facts by later generations).
Although the cosmological-geological changes were unprecedented, the spiritual, socio-cultural, religious, and imperial transformations were apparently even more overwhelming. The polytheistic priesthood prevailed almost worldwide, forcing therefore the true believers (: the monotheistic sacerdotal colleges) to be organized in defensive mode in order to avoid infiltration. This is how what we call now 'societies of initiation' or 'spiritual orders' came to existence. It was apparently detrimental for the entire mankind, because due to this situation, spirituality depended almost exclusively on participation in some priesthood.
Societies, nations or countries with hierarchical priesthoods and spiritual orders are abnormal, inhuman, and impossible to maintain; that is why the present world order is inevitably perishable. There cannot be any hierarchy among humans, involving the absurd withholding of information, knowledge, wisdom, and spiritual potency. This is so, because if this condition had been tolerable, God would have not created one but many Adams – one per hierarchy level.
There cannot be secrecy among humans and there cannot be secluded groups with interests common only to them within a society; this is so because such conditions of life breach the divine commandment of fraternity. The structure of the postdiluvian world is therefore unsustainable, because it is morally indefensible. The only means that prevented its total collapse was the war; the conditions of sin, injustice and inequality -in and by themselves- bring forth the end. This is so because dissociation from one person's soul and formation of egoistic, egocentric and egotistic characters cause confusion, misjudgment, failure and putrefaction.
In the postdiluvian world, people could not reestablish spiritual-material synergy except by becoming members of a priestly college. Within such an environment, the incessant clash between the polytheistic and the monotheistic priesthoods took the form of invariably composing and decomposing myths, epics, and transcendental narratives, attributing different traits to the same god (thus disfiguring God), and elaborating dissimilar variants and opposite versions of sacred texts. There has never been a religion with an unaltered holy book.
Physically strong and spiritually dwarf, Gilgamesh was an anti-Akkadian king or, if you prefer, a counterfeit Sargon whom the polytheistic and idolatrous priesthood of the Neo-Sumerian times fashioned in order to divulge, and ensure the prevalence of, the concept of Papo-Caesarism. Projecting his past at will, they made of their creature a foremost king, a legendary hero, and a divine human with a material perspective and an anti-universal worldview.
Justifying the increasing urbanism of late 3rd millennium BCE Mesopotamia and the subsequent disconnection from nature, Gilgamesh became the object of many sacred texts and narratives which promoted the counterfeit and idolatrous notion of a city being the microcosm of the universe. Consequently, the original literature about Gilgamesh facilitated evil spiritual policies of the type 'urbi et orbi'. That is why in striking contrast to the genuine Akkadian imperial universalism (or ecumenism) of Sargon of Akkad, the religious-educational cycle of Gilgamesh attempted to foster an 'internationalism' based on the interconnection of urban centers, solid disrespect for the nature, deliberate promotion of ethnic amalgamation and acculturation, and lack of any temporal dimension.
Quite contrarily, the Akkadian (and later the Assyrian) imperial universalism was founded on the sanctity of various locations (geographical determinism), exemplary respect for the nature viewed as remnant of the original Paradise, singularity of the Chosen People, namely the Akkadians-Assyrians, uniqueness of the Emperor (King of the Universe / Caesaropapism) as the permanent embodiment of the Messiah (Ninurta or Etana: two monotheistic cycles of religious-eschatological Mesopotamian literature), adoration of God in front of the Tree of Life, and endless exaltation of the Sacred Moment (as identification element on the axis of Being and Becoming).
The interminable friendliness and rivalry between Gilgamesh and Enkidu, as an odd spiritual-literary pattern, reveals the morbidity of Gilgamesh as prototype; in fact, all the Biblical and Islamic prophets followed the example of Enkidu, the paramount non-urban human. The wretchedness of the evil model of Gilgamesh can be best understood when specifying that the Mesopotamian hero-king is none other than the Biblical-Islamic Nimrud (also spelled as Nimrod & Namrud), who forced Abram-Abraham-Ibrahim to exile.
But, when we comprehensively examine all the related literary excerpts, we are certainly able to conclude that no utterance surpasses the detrimental rejection of Gilgamesh by the real vanquisher of the Flood Atrahasis (Ut Napishtim/Noah-Nuh), who lived eternally in Dilmun, having preserved around him the likeness of the antediluvian world; the fact that Gilgamesh would never attain immortality heralded the inevitable termination of the system, which produced this monster.
The predilection for the imperial model and the rejection of the priestly model was not only a fervent choice of the Mesopotamian monotheists, but also an explicit statement made by the Biblical God: "the more priests there were, the more they sinned against me; they exchanged their glorious God for something disgraceful" (Hosea 4:7).
Maintaining the material yoke over the captives was a permanent concern for the sacerdotal colleges that propagated one delusion after the other; despite the fact that the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was preserved as narrative in the Torah, a) the ritualistic use of sex, b) the extraction of energy from the human lasciviousness and debauchery, and c) the utilization of the material-spiritual potency of all the initiates for purposes of social-religious prevalence and material control remained a practice for all types of priesthood. The advanced decay and the loss of the original faith were the reasons for which the ancient religions were practically dissolved or could not have a serious impact anymore.
VII. Spirituality, the five elements, and the wrong sources of modern Western mystics
During the Late Antiquity, spirituality turned out to mean desecrated spiritual potency exerted by immoral mystics, Gnostics, and high priests who had to perform always more miracles in order to attract more followers. In this regard, Christianity was only a smart project of two colleges of Iranian and Egyptian priests settled in Rome. These Mithraists and the Memphists intended to extract the energy of their believers, i.e. fanaticized people whose total dedication was offered to narratives about Jesus rather than to Jesus' preaching itself. The rise of Roman Christianity was a disaster for the Gnostics and the earlier monotheistic priesthoods, whereas the rise of Constantinopolitan and Cappadocian Christianity, as an ingenious and impetuous reaction, consisted in stark rejection of the Roman fallacy.
The arrival of Islam, which in its original form was not another religion properly speaking, but a rejection of the heretical narratives about Jesus, a strong devotion to his preaching, and an effort to ascertain his faith, consisted in an effort to offer people another chance to reestablish synergy of the body and the soul in themselves after the examples of Moses, Elijah, Jonah, Jesus, Muhammad and Ali.
From the Brethren of Purity (إخوان الصفا /Ikhwan al-Ṣafa) to Muḥyiddin Ibn Arabi to Safi-ad-Din Ardabili, a great number of mystics founded tariqas (orders) that do not differ essentially from the Hesychast esotericism of St. Gregory Palamas. But their failure to oppose and eliminate a) the theological dogmatism (within both, Islamic and Christian, contexts), b) the numerous yet absurd versions of rationalism, c) the treacherous and impious notions of nominalism, and d) the persistent but calamitous impact of Greco-Roman philosophy prevented a great number of Christian and Muslim mystics from bringing spirituality back to the epicenter of human life.
It was only a matter of time for fanatics to take possession of Islam and spread darkness and ignorance from Ottoman Constantinople; when the Observatory of Taqi ad-Din Muhammad ibn Maaruf was attacked and destroyed (1580) by a lunatic mob guided by ignorant, silly, and vicious Sunni theologians, the indivisible corpus of Islamic science and spirituality was considered as the enemy of the prevailing bogus-Islamic dogma and therefore persecuted by the Satanic sheikhulislams.
In Western Europe both, secular spiritual movements (like the Cathars, the Templars, the Rosicrucians, etc.) and Christian orders (Benedictines, Jesuits), originated from the Gnostics and several religious priesthoods of the Late Antiquity. It was inevitable for the former to lose a large part of their documentation and spiritual potency as they were clandestine organizations and for the latter -as the winners- to indulge themselves in very immoral and sinful mindset, attitude and behavior. Even worse, the persistent clash of the two spiritual nebulae brought forth disproportionate hatred, abysmal negativity, and further spiritual loss.
There is no spirituality wherever the lie exists, let alone prevails; there is only the curse of God (קִלְלַת אלוהים/kalalt Elohim) there. This concerns not only the Jesuits and the pseudo-Freemasons (launched in England in 1717; about whom we have already discussed), but also the fake Rosicrucian orders of our times, namely the so-called Order of the Golden and Rosy Cross (1750s–1790s), the bogus-Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (1887–1903), and the Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia (1865–present). They all usurped the name of Christian Rosenkreuz with whom they have nothing in common and whose spiritual heritage they viciously loath. On the contrary, the early 17th c. German Rosicrucians trustworthily reflected the spiritual inheritance left and the masterful example of life offered by Christian Rosenkreuz, although I don't accept all three manifestos as unbiased.
By having Late Antiquity Gnostics as their masters and points of reference, almost all the modern European mystics, psychics and magicians failed to perceive accurately and comprehensively the spiritual universe. Few great scholars and mystics make the exception in this regard, the likes of Herman of Karantania (Carinthia; 1105-1154) and Christian Rosenkreuz (1378-1484); this is so, because they traveled in Africa and Asia and contacted Muslim, Jewish, Oriental Christian, Parsi Zoroastrian masters and scholars there.
In terms of Spiritual Ontology, the most common mistake that deceitful mystics, occultists, and spiritual fraudsters, such as Helena Blavatsky, Rudolf Steiner, George Gurdjieff, Aleister Crowley, Alice Bailey, and many others made was the absurd acceptance of the following four as the basic elements in nature: Earth, Water, Air and Fire. Franz Bardon certainly broke with this erroneous and misleading tradition, by systematically stating that at the origin of all is Ether. All the same, when their sources were wrong, they were predestined to spiritual failure, moral misconduct, and final damnation.
As a matter of fact, they could not perform better, because their readings and their references were misleading. All these authors were not in a position to go through authoritative sacred texts of superior societies like those of 3rd millennium BCE Mesopotamia and Egypt and have thus access to original spirituality. The cuneiform and hieroglyphic sources, which would help them best comprehend and sense the spiritual universe, were not yet deciphered or they were deciphered but few texts were published, transliterated, and translated - let alone analyzed.
Even more importantly, Water cannot be considered as one element, but two. Late Antiquity Gnostics were totally disoriented and misled in this regard. In striking contrast, early cosmological narratives and sacred texts clearly differentiate between Soft Waters (Apsu/Ocean) and Salt Waters (Tiamat/Sea). The latter is in fact the 'survival' (or 'maintenance') of the pre-creational chaos within the Order of the Creation. Salt Waters (Sea) is what humans must most categorically abstain from; this is what Jesus named "the Father of the Devil" (John 8:44). At this point, Modern English translations are wrong, because they repeat a mistake already made in the Vulgate. And by using this phrase, Jesus takes position against the theory as per which Elohim created the Devil; by so doing, Jesus is evidently closer to Assyrian-Babylonian cosmological standards and concepts than to Old Testament notions.
On the other hand, Fire is not an original element; it is a subordinate or derivative element that emanates from the Salt Waters. As such, Fire is a soiling substance that was duly reviled by all the early humans. Indeed, it was forcefully introduced as 'holy' element by the devilish, early Mithraic priesthood in Central Asia. Zoroaster and the Achaemenid dynasty of Iran engaged in ferocious and merciless battles against the abominable Mithraic Magi, who intended to impose their polytheistic dogma in Iran and to make the Iranians consider Fire as a 'holy' element.
It goes without saying that the ontological differentiation is considerable and stern; it impacts Spiritual Anthropology in a most disastrous way. "Four Elements" (Earth, Water, Air and Fire) instead of "Five Elements" (Ether, Earth, Soft Waters, Air and Salt Waters): this is enough to cause detrimental changes in the spiritual exercises one may make, and this development may impact enormously the ascetic soldier.
I read with great interest your email's last paragraphs about your life; for me there are not 'better' or 'worse' persons in this life. Even if many sins are involved in the life of a person, while another person committed only few and minor transgressions, the lives of the humans are independent trajectories like comets the deeper meaning and function of which only God knows. I therefore find it very normal to always expect to learn from anyone and from anything; consequently, I never comment on others' lives and life models, merely accepting or rejecting at the very personal level and on the basis of my standards (that I have progressively established during my life). That is why I admire always the people, who can offer life examples whatever their socio-professional life or economic status may be - either they lived in Iran like me or they explored India like you!
Many thanks for your time, responses, advice and attachments!
Best regards,
Shamsaddin
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#spirituality#spiritual potency#five elements#Genesis#Flood#Atra Hasis#Ut napishtim#Adapa#Biblical#Assyria#Akkad#Sumer#Babylonia#polytheism#monotheism#act of reproduction#abstinence#celibacy#Paradise
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It's Unbecoming
Realization lives in empty hallways of a conversation's end. The silence after confronting an unfaithful lover. Those moments following a fireworks' blast. Realization rests within the cycle of fullness, when everything returns to zero.
For me, it's my first breath after the long coma I've been in. Time moves absolutely different for people in a coma. A second is a month in real life, maybe. But it feels like a fanfare when I left the dream.
Waking up to the cold, sterile, and bright room was my moment. Even more so was the fact that nobody is there to greet me. In movies, or dramas, often we'd see the families of comatose patients crying and sobbing while waiting for them to wake up. But really, realistically, who has the time to do that?
Everyone has a life of their own. I don't blame them. Also, unlike those stories you might have heard, I can actually distinguish coma dream from reality. So I don't need help from families or friends to grasp anything, reality is as solid as a brick.
Well, except for the thing sitting next to me.
I can't describe it in a way that won't make it more confusing. Let's say, a girl, about my age. Imagine that, but blurry. Like in third dimension but also wrong. It can speak too.
"The button, behind your head, it calls for a nurse." It didn't sound hostile.
I did as it... she? I did as she asked. Sorry, it's way better for me to use that pronoun. It humanizes her, and I'd like her to be human.
I pressed the button to call the nurse. The process after was very procedural. Health inspection, checking for muscle atrophies, soreness. The nurses and that one doctor was gentle, and I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of girls touching my body.
Don't judge, but I've spent years in a practically dead state. I can't feel anything in the real world. Every bit of sensation sent to my brain is overwhelming at that point.
Then again, the one thing I can never erase from all the thoughts invading me at that point was that... I like being touched. Not even in an explicit way, but I like the sensation of physical touch on my skin. People often would take those for granted, holding hands, hugging, all of that.
But think about it like this. In a dream, you trip and fall down. In an instant you'd be jerked back awake. You never had the sensation of the impact on your skin. That is, the membrane separating dreaming and waking is merely the sensation of touch.
It is very thin indeed. After the coma I find myself savoring more and more of the concept of touch. I give myself time and space to just simply touch an object and feel it. It's weird.
I went home about a week after I woke up. The thing invited herself into my house as well. I don't mind her, her presence is calming. I miss some days when I would be alone though.
"I'd like a salmon today." She requests things like that often. I'm surprised too, because I'd find myself wanting those things she asked.
One day, I remember it was a rainy night. We had a conversation. I've had conversations with her before, alone of course, other people can't see her. That's something I find myself relieved with as well, that I have a secret that is her.
"I can't see the stars tonight," she said. "I want to see the stars."
"You can't, it's raining, heavy one too. Seems like it won't let up for a while," I replied.
It was an in between period. Sometimes after summer ends, it will rain heavily. I remember that from my childhood.
"On nights like these, when you can't see the stars, what do you replace them with?" Her tone back then was innocent. But even a blind man can see that she asked a loaded question.
I wanted to answer that I don't replace the stars. It's fated that we can't see them that night, and what is fated can't be changed. But deep down I want them to change, she and her tiny hands have reached deep into the permeable surfaces of my heart.
It was a simile, a play on words. What I meant, and what I'm sure she meant was, given another circumstance would I allow my family and friends to enter my life again? If not, what did I replace them with?
"It's you, isn't it?" I asked her.
Silence.
My family didn't leave me. This is reality, not some short story. Of course sometimes they would ask around, contacted me, but I always kept my distance.
That's worse, I agree. Keeping them just out of reach. Yes, it's like putting myself in a cage. I've used similar metaphors, and those are dangerous you know? Metaphors are used only to build love. If carelessly used they will build a wrong type of love.
At least, my parents brought me lots of metaphors. Most of them by the name of my best friend, or my neighbor, my childhood friend, even my own girlfriend at one point. It's love, they claimed. I feel it, the love, suffocating and scary.
When I told her... of course I told her. I told her many things. She saw my worst, days where I would loop myself like an ouroboros of depravity. Coming back and forth between laptop and phone, staring at pictures and videos, and imagining I was there instead of whichever male actor was.
"I don't mind," she said. "These are human things, these make you human. But please tone it down."
I don't know if she's being ironic, or that it's her twisted way of seeing what a human is. But her words made me stop. It made me realize that she was seeing my vulnerability and it's the one thing that became my blockade.
Oh, yeah, back to the parents thing. I told her that too. About how they would proclaim love in such a way. She told me that it wasn't love.
"Love doesn't hurt," she murmured. "If love hurts, it's not love, it's a skin of one, but inside it's different. A whole new kind of thing."
"But it didn't hurt," I scoffed. "It just felt weird. They seem to enjoy other people more than their own kid."
"That." She then held my hands. "That is hurt. Don't be ashamed of that."
In a way she does, it's strange, like she's reading my mind and dares speak it. Sometimes I would think of a concept, mull over it, and gave up because I just can't find the right word to convey it. Then she would have this grin, and in the sweetest voice someone could muster, she'd say the exact sentence or phrase which would describe it.
Some days she'd be silent, just watching me. I hated those days at first, but she has a way to make me feel at ease, even with those piercing unseen eyes. Those are usually paired with rain, I think she hated rain.
I wonder the same thing too, why I kept coming back to her on all of our sessions. She seems to be something I kept on my mind, even when she's not here anymore. I just... maybe I am feeling lonely.
Describing myself in third person is strange but I can try. He is a man in his late 20s, wearing thick glasses, likes to go out and eat, had a coma once. His strength... let's see, empathic? His weakness revolves around that too, maybe seeing too much of people's faults and overanalyzing them.
I get that this might help, but I feel like day by day my memory of her is beginning to fade away. Maybe, back to it again, it is fate. I am fated to lose even her, but I don't want to.
This is something I'm incredibly passionate about, mostly because I want to see her again. Do you think she's waiting for me? I think she is, and she's dying to speak to me again.
The last day I saw her was before I had that crash and ended up here again, last year. It was strange because the events play out exactly like when I awoke from my coma years ago. Sterile room, buzzing light, only difference was you, I guess.
I am glad, yes. I'm glad you are there. It's not as lonely as the coma.
"Be careful," she lamented. It was such a weird tone. Like she'll never see me again.
No, not lamenting, maybe more hoping? It's certainly much more brighter than I might remember. I'm biased after all, because after the crash I never really see her again.
Well, it'll be easy to describe her in third person. She is... wearing a white shirt, long black hair, even if fuzzy I could still see her wearing glasses as well. She's not slender, not tall, just average in height, weight... no comment, maybe average too? Her build is not something I truly look at.
Come to think of it, she does.
Wait, can you try putting your hair back again?
Oh...
Oh my God.
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Part 4
Something known as "Kubitachi's Burden" has escaped the confines of the forest and infiltrated the town. As a result, they've enlisted the services of an expert to investigate this phenomenon firsthand. This spells danger for Hikaru, and also Yoshiki. The pair begin growing close again. Yoshiki even puts his hand in Hikaru’s body once more, this time permitting himself to wonder if it does feel good, in spite of telling himself it ought to feel wrong. But getting this close to Hikaru might be dangerous, according to some. It might attract other things from the spiritual side toward Yoshiki. Things more dangerous and unpredictable than his smiling friend. Like some sort of demon lurking in Yoshiki’s shower drain that attacks his little sister. A demon Hikaru promises to deal with… but when Hikaru seems to be taking too long Yoshiki becomes worried, and comes to rescue him. The demon takes the opportunity to lunge into Yoshiki, take over his mind and forces him to try and drown Hikaru. The demon is expelled and escapes, giving Yoshiki a glimpse into the danger that spirits present. As time marches on, the council of village elders redoubles their efforts to unearth the truth behind the elusive forest spirit's escape. One fateful night, amidst a gathering of friends, Hikaru and Yoshiki find themselves separated, leaving Hikaru alone with Asako. The young girl delves into memories of Hikaru from before his mysterious disappearance and then poses a daunting question to the new Hikaru: "Who exactly are you?" Asako has a familial history of sensing spirits. Some may see them as faint shadows, but Asako can hear them. Even though she can sense that there is something paranormal about Hikaru, she does not fear him. She recalls an experience where she encountered an invisible spirit calling for her attention on a village road. Trying to live by her family’s rules of remaining separate from spirits, she eventually realised that this spirit was trying to warn her — her best friend was crossing a blind corner where a driver was speeding. The spirit saved her friend’s life. While other characters who are aware of spirits believe that not all spirits are malevolent, they hold the caveat that — because some are dangerous, that we must be suspicious of all. Asako simply does not have this outlook. Instead, showing a willingness to allow the spirit to show its true colours. Just as she affords that same opportunity to the-thing-that-replaced-Hikaru. Noticing for the first time that she can see him differently than others, the-thing-that-replaced-Hikaru tries to show her his true form, that which he can only describe to Yoshiki. Perhaps she can see him for what he truly is, stripped of the physical form. He does, after all, repeatedly mention that spirits are lonely, and long to be seen — is he truly so different? Their connection, while brief, causes Asako to collapse — just as Yoshiki is in view. In a frantic state, he fears that Hikaru may have killed her. The-thing-that-replaced-Hikaru expresses confusion at these anxieties. He struggles to grasp the distinction between life and death. Not a foreign concept to him, entirely, but he simply sees no empirical difference between something alive, and the same thing while dead. Thankfully, Asako regains consciousness, having merely fainted. Remarkably, her first concern isn't for her own well-being but for Hikaru's. She recognizes that he's been possessed and seems willing to help, but Yoshiki cannot bear the weight of it all and decides to depart, leaving Hikaru to ponder the profound questions of life and death alone. Hikaru wrestles with existential questions, contemplating the meaning of being alive. He dreads the thought of losing those he cares about, especially Yoshiki.
This Just In
James Somerton's channel has been nuked. Every video has vanished. If anyone took the time to save any of the evidence, now is the time to share it.
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Hi Hera,
You're one of my favourite blogs on here. Any reassurance I want, I always come to you. I love the way you answer questions and it's always a sophisticated answer. I know you've probably got a lot of asks similar to this but I just want some redirection from you because at this point I'm doubting the law and will probably give up on it soon.
So I have discovered the law of assumption around in August 2021 and my mains goals from that day was to achieve my ideal body, face, job and house. I will admit I was on and off but since May 2022 I started to take it seriously and really persist. But I have been struggling a lot, Neville says your assumptions manifests and even says it should take less than 3 days for you to receive your desire. So I probably have some underlying assumptions, but I do revise at the end of the day that I didn't waver, doubt or spiral. Even if I did have underlying assumptions, my dominant thoughts were my desires so that should manifest. So im just extremely confused. Here's an example of how I approach my desire:
So since June I've been persisting that I will get a job and I do get to the interview stage but then I rejected. Whilst I know it's definitely because of my interview technique because I do get nervous I don't let it affect my thoughts. I persist that my interview went well and i got the job and then the next day I get a phone call saying that the position was filled. I've been rejected 3 times after the interview stage and they were my ideal part time job. I'm currently revising this rejection right now but I might just give up on it.
Hello, my love.
You are not the only person that has reached out to me with a similar experience. This is generally the part where I tell people to restart their manifestation journey so they can have a clean slate to work with. I will never know what exactly goes down in somebody's mind for me to be able to determine exactly what "happened". I don't know if you're not being consistent with your mental diet, if you run back to the old story after 4 minutes of affirming or what your assumptions look like. I can simply work with what I'm told. However, I'll give you my two cents on the predicament you're faced with.
Before I start I'd like to remind you of the fact that failure technically isn't possible with the law of assumption because it will manifest. Regardless of how long it takes, you will have it. You simply can't not have it. The only way you could "fail" at the law of assumption is if you stop remaining loyal to your desires (persisting). Some people have manifested overnight, some within a month, some even longer [It literally took like two years for Neville's brother to manifest a company] but that doesn't matter and you shouldn't use someone else's experience as a way to measure or validate your own. I only bring this up because I strongly dislike this concept that if you haven't manifested within a certain range of time you're doing something wrong. You're not!
Remember, consciousness is the only reality, meaning that what you are accepting as a fact presently is what you experience in the 3D. Stop and think: What am I accepting as a fact right now? Am I "waiting" for my desires? Am I “trying” to manifest? (<- This one specifically is what it sounds like to me.) Back to what I was saying about the time it takes different people to manifest their desires, this will ultimately depend on how long it takes you to appropriate a new state of consciousness. Once you’ve established a clear idea of what your current state of consciousness looks like, drop it completely. Now ask yourself, what do you want your new state of consciousness to look like? Methods are always optional but not necessary as I'm sure you know. All you need is mental diligence. Change your assumptions and persist in them until they harden into fact. Live in the end, live in the 4D, accept the fact that you are not separate from your desires. They are in your possession already. Don't forget your conception of self, she's the foundation of your new story.
Change the way you perceive manifestation and the world around you. Don't forget that you are always in charge of circumstances and the pen is in YOUR hand. There is no better outcome, just what you choose to experience and not experience. Reject the evidence of your senses. Turn your attention away from any circumstance that challenges your new state of consciousness. Become so confident and so consistent to the new story that you are unfazed by the facts before you. You already know you're the operant power so why would they bother you in the first place? In your reality, you will always get to win.
Don't be afraid of a fresh start. You won't be starting from zero, you'll be starting from experience now that you know what to do instead. Don't lose hope in something that is your birthright. You cannot fail!
Before I end this, I'd just like to say, please don't let giving up be an option. I understand that you may feel frustrated or upset because of what your journey looks like, but please don't give up. You are so so so so close to having everything you want. Think about the fact that manifesting your desires is so much easier than having to actually work for them like any sleeping person. You are truly so lucky to be one of few (out of billions, that is) to know about the law of assumption. All your desires ask of you is that you don't give up on them in the 4D. You have me and a whole community right behind you rooting for your success. Don't give up.
#the way this ended up being incredibly extensive like it isn't practically ⅓ of one of my future posts#hera's greatest hits
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How a hearttype gave birth to a parallel life of a paratype - A view on the connection between spiritual and psychological roots for otherkinity
[Before I start, I want to point out that the following will be my own experience I simply wanted to write down for a while. Neither of what will be written here is there to dictate other peoples experiences or ways of feeling non/alterhuman.]
The one great discussion within our community is usually the differences between spiritual and psychological reasons for one's identity: Which is more real? Which is more valid? Questions like these are talked about a lot and both sides don’t really want to listen to the other point of view.
This is ridiculous as it is on it’s own, but I feel like many people forget that spiritual and psychological explanations can often be intertwined. There is the obvious: Identity is caused by ones psychologically.
Yes, the kintype itself may or may not be there because of a past life, but still identify as that being is a psychological process. This is something I do see people talk about sometimes. The root may be a spiritual one, but at the end of the day the process of identification is still a psychological matter.
What I don’t see people talk about though is the other way around. I don’t know how long it took me to figure out the basic of this one identity I have, because it’s nothing that ever came to my mind.
It seems to be such an odd concept that I ignored it for so long. A spiritual connection that came to be because of a psychological phenomena.
It only dawned on me when I thought a bit more about one of my hearttypes: Kuja from the game Final Fantasy IX.
I still remember, when I first played the game almost 20 years ago it had a huge impact on me. Long story short: Kuja was created for one purpose alone, to wage war. In the end he does something to redeem himself and even though he dies before he is able to actually walk the road of redemption, the other characters in the game see his sacrifice as a source of hope.
Seeing the man who tried to kill the heroes multiple times to save them in the end because he realized his wrong doings formed a lot of my personal morality. If someone makes the effort to better themselves they deserve a second chance. As sad as it is, this usually isn‘t the case in real life.
I consider Kuja a hearttype because his story and character shaped a really important part of my core identity: Pacifism and second chances. But when I grew older and saw more of the world I realized that this isn‘t how our world is made. There are a lot of people who don’t make an effort to become better, and there are a lot of people who do but aren‘t given a chance and somewhere along the line of seeing the world for what it is, a part of my soul, at least that’s what I believe, found another world where the core idea of my morality is the law.
I had a different parallel life once, one that is now a past life. Through a lot of meditation or introspection the explanation I found for the cause of my old parallel life was some form of split soul, a tiny part of my soul that got separated for some reason long time ago living somewhere else, but all life end one day, even if it’s after 5000 of years and this tiny part of my soul came back not knowing if it even belonged in this world I am now. But shortly after it found a new world, the world I mentioned above.
My parallel life is a spiritual thing. A piece of my soul inhabited another body in another world but the reason for this to happen was a psychological one, the desire to life in a world where the core of my identity would fit into, a core that formed almost two decades ago. And it’s also not a world that is in any way similar to the source of my hearttype. It’s not that I came up with a world that would fit my needs or desires, it’s not that I started to think what my ideal world would be like. It’s so different from anything I would’ve come up with on my own. Because at first I thought: What if it’s just something I created myself subconsciously? But given how different it is from everything I’ve ever created, and how it just came to be so suddenly after my old parallel life ended I can’t see how it’s something my psyche made up. It was just that I had a desire and a piece of my soul sought out a way to make a spiritual connection to something that may could fulfil that desire.
A paratype, with a parallel life, of a hearttype.
#otherhearted#fictionhearted#paratype#otherkinity#fictionkinity#otherkin#fictionkin#personal experiences
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saudade | kth. (m)
saudade ; “a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something/someone that one cares for and/or loves.”
➵ summary : a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.
➵ pairing : idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader
➵ genre : angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 16k
➵ warnings : sexual content, swearing, dom + sub dynamics, dom!tae, fingering, oral (f. receiving), lots of dirty talk, t e a s i n g because let’s face it this is tae, big dick!tae, cock sliding, marking, restraint (with his own hands), unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), rough sex, mushy i miss you sex, lots of feels, tae undresses reader (it’s hot i promise), praising, name kink, slight body worshipping, slight brat-handling, forced orgasm, creampie, one spank, tiny impreg kink, aftercare
➵ a/n : wow, my first fic on tumblr!! i’m beyond excited to finally be sharing my stories and writing, hopefully i can let you escape into a whole new world and enjoy my works! comments and feedback are always appreciated <3
2:27AM.
He still wasn't home.
Texts on delivered, calls unanswered, radio silence on all social media.
And it wasn’t just tonight, it was every night.
Everyday.
And it’s been a month. A long, grueling month.
A month where he only acknowledged your presence just once and called it a day. A month where he returned so late and left early enough the following morning you didn't see him. Somedays, he never even came home at all. You made suggestions to hang out together, and he declined them on the premise of 'too busy'.
It hurt beyond comprehension.
It's like he wasn't even there.
But you knew he was.
He was the one who moved your sleeping body from the couch to your shared bed every night, a sweet gesture of his that gave you hope maybe everything wasn't so bad. Sometimes, though, you woke up on the same couch the next morning, knowing he most likely stayed the night elsewhere.
You tried to remain indifferent to the treatment, figuring he was just stressed with his tightly-packed schedule that didn't always include you.
But it was beginning to feel heart-breaking, disappointing, but most of all, so lonely. It was starting to feel like he was slipping away from you, like you were losing him, relationship tearing at the seams. It left you nothing but heartbroken and afraid. Afraid of where your relationship had gone, afraid of whatever happened to the never-ending love you two shared. You both harboured an array of feelings for one another that infinitely tethered you two together, kept you madly in love and nearly impossible to separate.
So where was that now? How could it have all changed within the span of a month?
You’ve survived comebacks with him before and he never entertained this kind of behaviour. Maybe you had a fight or two about someone cancelling on a plan or working too hard but nothing as excruciating as this.
Your relationship began to feel empty, so meaningless. And the more he was distant, the stronger the pain grew and your love seemed to be losing its vitality.
Why would he do this? What's gotten into him? Did I do something wrong? Why doesn't he care anymore? you asked yourself repeatedly for weeks.
You’d think work was the issue, where your relationship had to be purposefully low-profile and subdued. But ever since the inception of your relationship, Taehyung never found any of that difficult. If anything, he loved it the most. You could easily leave it to the 'forbidden’ or 'looked down upon' stigma of you two dating to make everything 100x hotter, more exciting, and fuck, did you and especially Taehyung enjoy fiddling around with the concept as if you were some modern-day remake of Romeo and Juliet.
The sneaking around, the thrill of moments only you two shared, the promises you kept, the secret kissing or displays of affection, your romantic status like classified information some were only privy to.
But you didn't have to worry about suddenly losing your 'Romeo', though, because Taehyung wasn't as stupid as he was (no offence, Shakespeare).
Taehyung remained business-like whenever he needed to be and tended to his work accordingly. He was always cautious of the consequences your relationship warranted, and worked hard to prove your love was worth it despite his chaotic life and the challenges everyone warned you of.
Taehyung has also always been mischievous, a little rebellious, someone who doesn't always like following whatever he's told; so this relationship was just his cup of tea, making it hard to believe he would grow tired of it considering his well-precedented admiration.
But now, you weren’t so sure.
Now he seemed practically devoid of the fact that you two were even dating. He didn’t naturally gravitate towards you anymore like before, instead increasingly gravitating away from you. He didn't linger around to catch a moment with you anymore, didn't come looking for you, didn't spark conversation whether it was important or not, even stopped looking at you as a whole. It seemed like being in your presence was something he avoided rather than just didn't do, like he wanted to fill his time elsewhere and sometimes… you swore it felt intentional.
As if he didn't want to be around you.
You sought communicating with him about everything, pinning all the blame on his mountain-high stress and how busy he was thinking you could help ease his mind; but he stayed firm on the notion he was just fine. You obviously knew something was up and wanted to confront him, but you feared pestering or nagging him, never wishing to add to his stress.
And you get that, you really do. He has this demanding, grandiose life that you should understand is incredibly stressful and time-consuming. But you're going to be honest... you fucking missed Kim Taehyung. A lot.
Granted, you saw him at work, even more so now with a comeback dawning on the group, but it wasn’t the same.
You missed being home with him. You missed the way his big arms cuddled you when you watched a movie together, you missed 'attempting' to cook dinner with him, you missed your snuggly mornings where he wouldn’t let you go until he laid at least a hundred kisses on you. You missed him tickling you when you least expected it, randomly playing any track of jazz or slow music, swaying you until he made you giggle and you missed him never forgetting to kiss your forehead whenever he parted from you, even if he had to be discreet where work was concerned.
The cute, couply things you missed, sure. But the one thing that consistently clouded your mind and bothered you nearly every second of everyday...
Sex.
That active as hell sex life you two had, you missed every damn detail about it and your body desperately yearned for its revival.
After a month's dryspell, you craved Taehyung so badly it wasn’t funny anymore. From all the times he eyed you suggestively, to the way his large, touchy hands ended up all over you, to the way he eventually laid you down, lost himself in his torturous but pleasurable teasing, maybe even tying you up or handcuffing you in the process, getting you dripping wet before he eventually fucked you just right simply out of his own desire.
Nope.
You can't do this, it only made you hornier than you already were and fuck, did anything you try on yourself not work at all. You were feeling greedy. Going from doing it nearly three times a week during quarantine lockdown with him to suddenly having gone a month sex-free left you losing your mind.
There used to be so much fire, so much love, so much passion between you two. It was intoxicating, so ardent that you could feel yourselves aching for each other in your bones. But now, all of that felt either non-existent or buried so deep underground you couldn't feel much of anything. And of course, the absence of sex and the cute stuff collectively sucked, sure. But what scared you the most were your own thoughts.
What if he's finally tired of you? What if he wants to focus on his career? What if he's found someone new, someone that isn’t staff, someone much easier and less burdensome than you..
You stopped.
A dark web of assumptions swarmed your head, all seeming completely plausible and welcoming a dull, daunting sadness to loom over you. Your chest constricted at the thought of your fickle importance to him, wincing at the possibility it could be true. You sat in silence in your lonely home, leaving you to ponder when the apartment began to feel so forlorn in the first place.
The photographs he took framed the walls, the old albums he owned littered your shelves and even one of the many jackets he owned was currently sprawled across your couch. You noticed the way his presence was so deeply rooted in the home, yet he felt as distant as ever.
You settled in on your couch, cradling his jacket at the thought of how much longer this would continue, forcing yourself to sleep in hopes of ridding the feeling of emptiness from your chest.
But you couldn't.
Your mind drowned struggling to sleep, giving up on shut-eye as a whole until eventually you began swimming, swimming through your emotions and one particular thought stood out to you; this wasn't fucking fair.
It just wasn't, none of this was. You can't let him continue this, can't remain on the fence about doing something and you certainly cannot just let this go. It was your duty as one of the active partners in this relationship to fight for its life, so that's exactly what you were going to do—with one conclusion you were convinced would work.
You should give him a taste of his own medicine.
You decided to be upset, ignore him and see how he reacts. Respond with the same curt responses, not give him the time of day, 'naturally' gravitate away from him. Hell, you could start tomorrow by waking up earlier than him and seeing how he responds to your empty side of bed for once.
That's if he even comes home tonight.
This seemed like the only sure-fire method of gaining his attention. Maybe if you acted unreasonably, far from how you usually do he would finally pay you any mind, have to approach and confront you. You’d always let him off the hook on the account of him being an idol, but now he’s taken it too far.
Your mind grew hazy somewhere in between thinking and shuffling on the couch, only the sight of a vacant apartment and the scent of his cologne lulling you to sleep.
You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, the reality of last night resurfacing as you remembered the impromptu plan for today, cursing how early you had to wake up to avoid him.
You lazily rubbed at your eyes as they landed on the clock on your bedside table, suddenly registering you were in a different room altogether. It was then you felt the softness of your pillow, the silk of your sheets, the familiarity of your room's walls coming into view—all of it blissful until you froze at the feeling of weight around your waist, a quick glance confirming it was an arm. It was then you felt your neck being fanned by hot breaths, your back flush against someone's bare chest and you felt your heart speed up.
Is he...?
Thinking you're getting ahead of yourself, you're proven just right when you turn around to a face you knew all too well.
Taehyung's soft figure rose and fell as he slept soundlessly next to you.
You instantly softened, in a bit of shock because he was right there, angelic as ever as he breathed calmly and cuddled your smaller figure into him.
He still held you to fall asleep, huh?
A smile found your face at the thought as you admired the details of his; thick, pretty lashes pressed against the skin underneath his eyes, his large, veiny hand tucked under his cheek as the other draped you, his pink, pillowy lips sealed together in an adorable pout. You shifted onto your side and nuzzled closer into him, listening to his rhythmic breathing and watching his broad chest rise and fall. You melted into his presence, soaking in all the glory that was Kim Taehyung.
You then remembered he was always here, he did give you his personal time; you just didn't see him. You knew he moved you at night, tucked you in, maybe kissed you goodnight. Maybe he had moments where he felt terrible for being away, whispered sweet apologies and promises into your ear.
But then again, you wouldn’t know, you didn't spend enough time together for you to know.
A sudden movement of his arm and that eerie thought snapped you back into reality, instantly scolding yourself for getting distracted by him. You had to focus on how you felt, hone in your emotions and refrain from doting on your precious boyfriend.
You wouldn't be able to ignore him later if you didn't start now.
You were forced to leave his warmth, having to ready yourself for today's rehearsals and resolving numerous things for however long this would continue; you needed Taehyung to feel what you've been feeling all this time, needed him to feel the absence of your presence just as you had felt his.
And you'll be damned if you were going to be easy about it.
A couple hours had passed as you stretched, yawning after revising a rehearsal video, the murmurs of staff keeping you awake. Stretching for what felt like the millionth time, you slightly jumped at the sound of the studio doors opening just before the scheduled time. You watched it mindfully, your heart speeding up at the thought of suddenly seeing Taehyung so soon.
Don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first.
You calmed down once your eyes set on 5 of the members ambling in, watching them greet people until you eventually spotted Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind, thankfully too occupied with giggling to see you.
You rejoiced in the lack of eye contact until you decided to sneak a peek at Taehyung, mortified when you found his eyes suddenly locking with yours. The shock made you turn away instantly, swallowing what felt like your heart down your throat.
Your ears were welcomed to the boys making conversation, playfully teasing the 95's for apparently being late and in the midst you managed to shyly greet everyone... except Taehyung.
And this didn't go unnoticed by him, who already felt worried since he woke up to your cold, unoccupied side of the bed this morning. Taehyung instantly found it off-putting, since he usually knew your schedule and left him wondering what reason you had to disappear without informing him.
Curiosity flooded him as the thought continued to bug him, what did she have to do so early in the morning? His inquiries turned into actions when he began passing through the boys, immediately stepping towards you.
"Morning, Y/N. Everything alright?" Taehyung innocently reached for your shoulder once he settled beside you. You almost let him do it, making you reminiscent of when he actually gave a shit about you, but you remembered your little scheme and swiftly pulled away.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Taehyung immediately froze up, disbelief riddling his handsome features. You've never once rejected his touch so blatantly.
You would never do that, he thought.
Taehyung paused his hand at the point he would have touched you, tugging at his bottom lip uncomfortably before rubbing the back of his neck. You internally winced at the hurt you could see on his face through the studio mirrors, forcing yourself to stand your ground as he feebly spoke again.
"You don't seem fine. Why did you wake up so early this morning? You didn't tell me about it..." He scratched his neck awkwardly, a hint of a pout in his tone.
"I don't know, I just couldn't sleep. I don't need to tell you my every move, Taehyung." You responded curtly.
"I know..but you could've told me, Jagiya. We could've spent the morning together in the apartment if you were up so early." Taehyung looked at you in protest, lowering his voice so others couldn't hear.
The use of your pet name after a long time instantly ticked you off, even more so his proposal, he could say all that cute shit but couldn't act upon it?
Irritation nestled its way under your skin, causing you to whisper dryly, “Just get to stretching, Taehyung, we have a lot to go over today.”
His jaw clenched as he swallowed, a troubled expression painting his face. He managed a small 'okay' before he unwillingly stepped away.
Taehyung was beyond confused; something was wrong, seriously wrong. It wasn't just your harsh tone or icy aura, but even in the way you addressed him so plainly as Taehyung.
He didn't understand, he's seen you mad or annoyed before, but nothing along these lines and he couldn’t piece together the reason for your attitude. It seemed like nothing would ameliorate your mood either, leaving Taehyung cursing whatever evil thing was making you so upset.
Despite experiencing that bitter demeanour, however, Taehyung was forced to watch you act friendly with everyone else during practice.. except him.
And what was even worse, he watched you do so for the rest of the week. You had gone a whole week with your (what he found to be) ridiculous behaviour, everything about you so different with him he was left consumed with frustration.
He watched as you continued to treat everyone else the same, getting a little too close to them than he liked. It was something he noticed in the weeks previous to this, but now silently pissed him off even more because this time you decided to purposefully exclude him; and he hated it. You barely spoke or tended to him over the course of the week, Taehyung's envy blooming in his chest at the way you acted so close to everyone yet treated him, your boyfriend, like a stranger.
He didn't understand why he was the only one, you talked to Jimin about what he did on his days off, pretended to box with Jungkook, danced around with Yoongi and Hoseok and goofed around with Jin and Namjoon. Hell, he even found you socializing with other staff and dancers more than usual.
Taehyung couldn't fucking stand it, what in the world was wrong with you? Not only did he figure something was clearly wrong, but that he clearly did something wrong.
He was beyond confused, annoyed, but more so worried as to what was fuelling your actions. Taehyung didn't know what he did, and he couldn't manage not knowing anymore, most of all despising the feeling that he was suddenly losing you.
He quickly resolved after a gruesome week he wasn't letting you go after rehearsals tonight, giving a fat fuck you to his evening plans and trading them in for confronting you.
Your eyes stung from a week’s worth of waking up at the ass crack of dawn to avoid Taehyung, rubbing your eyes as you slung your purse over your shoulder to end another day at the studio. Thinking you were alone, you swiveled around to an empty room and surprisingly spotted Taehyung.
You jumped a little, not expecting him to still be here when you knew he had dinner plans tonight.
Did he cancel them?
Suddenly realizing this is the first time in over a month you’ve been in a room with him, alone, and especially after the week you've spent purposefully dodging him, anxiety flooded your chest.
Your eyes flittered around, nibbling on your lip awkwardly as you pretended he wasn't there. You eventually met his eyes and he returned your hesitant gaze with an intense one, nearly peering into your very soul. He remained unbothered with his hands tucked into his pockets, and now that you were finally viewing him, couldn't help but swoon over his look for the day.
He really chose to wear that damn grey hoodie with matching grey sweatpants that makes you weak, hair styled in the messy curls he's been sporting ever since his perm and wearing that one silver hoop earring you found incredibly hot.
He looked like a fluffy puppy but also a full-course meal crafted by God himself.
This isn't fucking fair at all.
He noticed you staring at him and his head cocked to the side, studying you with a hint of a smirk. He raised an eyebrow tauntingly, like he wouldn't let you go after trapping you in what felt like shackles around your ankles. You could only swallow dryly, averting your eyes and reminding yourself you had to get out of his trance
His power over you was immense, especially when he flipped his curly fringe from his eyes, examining you with such a fiere, unreadable expression you shifted nervously on your feet.
How is he so dominant when he's standing a whole 15 fucking feet away from you?
You watched a self-satisfying grin play onto Taehyung’s lips, loving the way you squirmed under his undivided attention until he suddenly began stepping in your direction, sheer panic overtaking you. You weren't ready, you didn't really think of the result of this plan and now that it's worked, you knew you were in trouble.
Taehyung is unpredictable as hell, you never knew what was running through his mind and which idea he’d pick to entertain. You malfunctioned at the thought and your flight response kicked in, making you step towards the door at light speed.
"I..uh.. I have to go." You stuttered and purposely ducked around him. You felt relieved once you passed his deep stare, until you felt his slender fingers suddenly grapple onto your wrist.
Shit.
"You're not going anywhere." His low voice reverberated in the room, sending currents through your body. You refused to look at him, knowing it would make you squeal, but you stabilized your voice to speak.
"I..", you swallowed, "don't think it's your place to say."
You felt his hold on your wrist tighten, knowing that pissed him off.
A small moment of silence passed and you thought he'd given up, relaxing until he suddenly yanked you towards him, your smaller figure crashing into his chest. He held you against his tall body as his eyes locked with your timid ones, forcing the confrontation of your obvious issue with him.
You took a stubborn step back instead of giving in, arms crossed. Taehyung had enough of you evading his look and gently lifted your chin with his index finger.
"My place? It's been a fucking week and you haven't even looked at me, Y/N. What is your problem?" He emphasized with annoyance, but his soft eyes gave away he was just desperate for an answer.
"Nothing's wrong, Taehyung, I'm just tired."
"Oh really? Tired? Y/N, don't think I didn't notice you ignore me for an entire week. I thought something was wrong in general but clearly you have a problem with me and only me. What's your deal?" He vented in frustration, tone utterly displeased.
You only scoffed disbelievingly, looking towards the ground in search of something to hold back your piled-high emotions.
Taehyung grew tired of your silence and sighed with dejection. He cupped your cheeks and looked at you seriously, "Look at me, bubs, what's so wrong? Did I do something?" the newfound frailty in his voice left you sucking in a breath of guilt.
You really wanted to voice how you felt, teetering on the possibility until you suddenly became aware you'd be requesting demands from one of the busiest people on Earth.
Your tongue habitually tied itself.
"It's just.. It's not important, Taehyung. Let me go." You abruptly turned out of his hold, locking your jaw tightly.
"Why in God's name would I let you go? Something's wrong, Jagiya, and that's always going to be important to me." Taehyung squeezed your arms affectionately, suddenly warming you to him.
You could instantly feel your emotions conflicting inside, flooding your chest with regret yet frustration so heavy you needed air. Your eyes were beginning to reveal your vulnerability, trying to blink away threatening tears.
"Taehyung, just let me go, it's absolutely nothing." Your voice sounded shakily unconvincing and yet, you were tugging yourself away as if he would believe you.
"It's not nothing, I can clearly see something wrong. Why won't you just tell me?"
"Because I don't want to tell you, Taehyung. It's really just nothing."
"You keep saying it's nothing but I can see it in your eyes, you're upset, Jagiya. I know you." Taehyung spoke matter-of-factly, his grip and tone growing desperate.
"I'm not upset, I'm just exhausted."
"Exhuasted..” Taehyung trailed, licking his lips. “Of course, because now you're waking up earlier than you usually do in the morning and on top of that without even fucking telling me why." His tone grew irritated as he scoffed, looking away from you.
You instantly grew annoyed.
"And I told you I don't need to tell you my every move, Kim. Why are you even so pissed about it?”
"Did you just.. family name me?" Taehyung narrowed his eyes
"So what if I did?" You deadpanned.
Taehyung let out a deep sigh.
"I’m pissed cause I got worried, okay? Not everyone has a situation like ours where anyone could do shit to you because of me, so I like knowing where you are." Taehyung stressed with a serious tone. "And listen, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong. I'm fucking serious, Jagi, you did not just ignore me all week only to tell me nothing's wrong."
"And I'm not gonna say anything. I'm fucking serious, Taehyung." You mimicked him, hoping he'd let you go.
Taehyung dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek and chuckled dryly, your impossibility unbelievable to him. He pursed his lips before slowly releasing you, his hands up in mock surrender.
"Fine, you can leave then."
You took his words without a second thought and immediately turned for the door. You had just cracked it open before Taehyung’s hand suddenly smacked it shut from behind, making you turn around startled.
He abruptly pinned you against the door with the weight of his body, locking you in with both arms. He leveled himself to your height and peered directly into your eyes.
"And I told you, I'm not letting you go, Ms. Y/L/N." Taehyung now mimicked you as you felt him dominate you with a degree of alpha-male that left you entranced and unable to move. He drew himself closer to your face, so close that he granted no room for you to breathe. You could only stand in defeat, your doe eyes wide as you flashed them to his lips and back to his eyes.
Taehyung couldn't resist how much he wanted you anymore.
"I always forget how challenging you can be." He spoke in his deepest, sultriest tone, that damn bass paired with his dancing eyes causing you to bite your lip.
Taehyung watched you do so and grew hot, finding you irresistible when you were acting impossible yet became putty in his hands. You balled your hands into fists against his chest as he dangerously inched towards your neck, his proximity shooting arousal through your blood.
His scent was intoxicating, resurfacing the numerous thoughts you had of him in his absence. He manifested butterflies in your chest, knowing you had to resist him yet found yourself giving in.
He finally ducked into your neck, anticipating the connection of his lips until he only ghosted your skin. He breathed against you purposefully to elicit a reaction, gifted his desire when he felt your body lean into him and breath hitch.
You hated that you wanted him to kiss you already. You craved him so desperately, so in need of his touch that just the feeling of his body pushing you against the door was enough to make you press your thighs together.
And little did you know, a month and a week without you left Taehyung dying to devour you.
As if noticing you getting impatient, he pulled you towards him by your waist and his lips finally crashed onto your neck, a silent groan escaping you as his plush lips began mouthing sensually. You let out a breathy moan but gathered the courage to speak up, knowing full well the high creeping up on you and you needed to get back at him.
"Maybe if you were home more often you'd remember."
A small laugh escaped Taehyung, "So that's what this is about?" The sudden puff of his breath made you want to jump him. He deliberately pushed his hips into yours, shooting jolts throughout your core once you felt the familiar prodding of something hard. He began sliding one of his hands up and down your waist, almost in an effort to distract you.
"Of course it is, Tae. You're never fucking home." You spoke with vexation, growing both sexually and emotionally frustrated over the way he was pressing you up against the door and inviting a stirring feeling to constrict your insides. He brought his thigh in between your legs, slightly grinding against you as he added pressure to your heat and sucked your sweet spot.
"I'm never fucking home, huh? Who do you think moves you from the couch to our bed? Makes sure you're comfortable and tucks you in? Kisses you goodnight?" He asked rhetorically, letting his teeth bite at your supple flesh and embellish you with his favourite purple marks.
"T-that's not the point, Taehyung. I'm not awake. H-how does that count as you being home?" You retaliated as best you could, snaking your hands to grab the nape of his neck, fingers trailing into the curly ends of his hair. He groaned so audibly that you grew shamelessly hornier.
"Because I do come home. I sleep next to you in our bed, even cuddle you." He began sucking underneath your jaw, wrapping his arm around your torso to press you flush against him. He kissed down your throat trying to bite and leave more hickies, pushing you back for support.
"I-I just told you, that doesn't count, Tae. You... come home when I'm asleep and leave before I wake up. I-I never see you." You tried to maintain your composure, hands hugging his head close to you.
"But we already see each other here, don't we? You see me at practice, meetings, in the building... no?" He suddenly came off your neck and his hand flanked to your chin, advancing for a kiss. But immediate annoyance flooded you upon registering his words, pulling your face back.
"Are you kidding me? You count that as seeing each other? All we do is rehearse choreography and work together. How is that 'seeing' each other?" You asked, baffled at his audacity.
"Because we're at least together, aren't we? Isn't that all that matters?" Taehyung looked at you as if you were the ridiculous one, ignoring your concerns and trying to kiss you again. You immediately removed yourself from him and pushed him back, his hands letting you go.
"That's not the issue, Tae. The issue is that you're really busy and I get that, but we literally haven't done anything together in the last month. And the reason that sounds insane to me is because we work and live together, you'd expect that somewhere in that time we would’ve done something... but we haven't." You emphasized as you pled your case.
"Princess, we've been over this. I told you at the beginning of our comeback that our time together was gonna be limited. I remember you agreeing to that and understanding. Why is this coming up now?"
"So going an entire month neglecting your ‘princess' is what you meant? Your 'limited' seems more like 'nothing at all'.” You air quoted and crossed your arms, becoming annoyed with his ambiguity and sudden use of another pet name.
"Okay, that's not what I'm saying. All I'm saying is that comeback season is busy, it's one thing after another and I can't always keep up with everything. There’s a lot going on; our album, company business, don’t get me started on the mountain of work with promotions, concerts, filming and photoshoots. I'm even making an entire fucking mixtape. I’m trying my damn best here." Taehyung vouched for himself, holding his hands up to defend against your accusations.
"And I'm not saying you don't try, I understand that you're busy but what I’m saying is I don't even feel important to you anymore, let alone a priority. We barely interact, you never do anything with me or talk to me, but for everyone else you’ve got all the effort in the world to spare. I get that you're an idol, I always see you working hard and I'm proud of that. But you somehow make time for everything else.. why can't you just make some time for me?" You felt like you sounded selfish, almost faltering from revealing anymore but you felt so neglected it had to be said.
"Wh-what about you? Oh my God, Jagiya.. you're such a high priority to me. Trust me, you really don’t know what I'd do for us and you should know I’d damn well do or sacrifice anything. It may seem like I'm not right now but I promise it's not like that. You'll always be important to me, how could you think otherwise?" Taehyung was perplexed by your sudden outburst, never having known of these feelings before. He reached his hands out to you but you abruptly denied him, snapping at the question.
“Then what’s it ‘like’, exactly? Because it seems very much to me like you want nothing to do with our relationship.”
“No, that’s-that’s not it at all. Don’t worry about this, okay bubs? Overthinking this won’t do you any good, just trust me.”
“Trust you? You're not even answering my damn question, Taehyung, what is it then? Why aren’t you telling me? Are you fucking hiding something?” You began speculating, his repeated vagueness irking you.
“Jagi, no, just listen to me. Know that I mean it when I say you’re important to me, you’re the love of my life and you'll always be a priority. Why are you thinking like this? Where is all this coming from?” Taehyung asked incredulously, getting on your very last nerve.
"I don't fucking know, Taehyung, maybe because you ignore me for hours on end? Maybe because you leave me every morning without considering just waking up together? I know we can't make it obvious we live together, but we’ve always found a way before, what happened to that? Your texts and phone calls are so meaningless. You make time for your friends and other people but don't make any for me." Your eyes turned glassy, tears escaping as you recalled your terrible feelings over the last month.
"Do you know why you find me sleeping on the couch every night no matter how fucking uncomfortable it is? Because our bed literally smells like you and it constantly reminds me of you but you’re not even there. Do you know how many times I've wanted to talk to you but you're too distracted and I know you'd just push me away? Or how scared I am of bothering you? How many times I've wanted you to come home? How utterly empty and lonely the apartment feels without you even though everything about you is riddled all over it? You don't get it, Taehyung. You just don't fucking get it." You found yourself crying and clutched your chest where it felt like your heart was on display for Taehyung, the reality of everything hitting you like a 16-wheeler.
Taehyung did nothing but blink at you for several seconds, shocked at what he just heard. Were you seriously.. that upset? His absence was that prominent? It didn't even feel like a month to him, but it seems to you it felt like an eternity.
Taehyung unfortunately only knew his packed schedule and making sure he didn’t fall asleep where he shouldn't. A multitude of things ran through his mind on a daily basis with his chaotic life; discussing outfits with his stylist, trying to purchase that new serum his makeup artist always reminds him of, meeting with a producer to review freshly composed songs for his mixtape or finally going out for that one drink he always promised a friend or two—and he suddenly hated it all.
He especially began to loathe his demanding life when he saw the hurt on your face; the way your eyes glistened with pain, the loneliness in your voice, the way you tried physically holding yourself together. He couldn't fathom he was the cause of such pain, wincing at how utterly stupid he was for not noticing this earlier.
I really did do something to her.
He searched for anything to say, beginning to form words but quickly stopping himself from starting a sentence each time. He only examined your crumbling state and regretted not having talked to you sooner, but suddenly wishing you informed him about your feelings preemptively.
"I.. I thought you would've said something, Y/N, but you didn't. How am I supposed to know you feel this way if you don't tell me? You-you seemed okay to me." He inquired softly, tone riddled with guilt, but his words only made a disdainful scoff leave your lips.
"Told you? Taehyung, you have always made it clear that you're a busy person and I've always respected that. You also made clear the importance of this comeback and that I just had to understand how limited our time together would be. Of course I had to act okay. How could you expect me to come and beg you for your attention after you tell me not to seek it?"
Taehyung was taken aback, falling silent. You watched him angrily, finding it unbelievable he really had nothing to say for such a crucial argument.
"I was fucking embarrassed, Taehyung. I thought you'd get mad at me for hovering around you while you were busy and stressed. I didn't want to fucking suffocate you."
"What? Jagi, no, this is important. I wouldn't have reacted like that at all. If you were hurting this much you could've told me and I would've done something. You can always talk to me, how could you not know that?" Taehyung inquired with a hint of accusation and it was like every cell in your body had set off.
"Oh fuck you, Kim Taehyung. Don't give me that bullshit! Of course I know, but I also know that you just get caught up in your own world and your extravagant idol life and I don't wanna fucking bother you when you’re living it without me!"
"Y/N, don't. I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, can you watch your tone a little?" Taehyung asked with a frustrated timbre.
"You know what? I won't, Taehyung, let's fight. Only way to get your attention, isn't it?" Your feelings had reached its peak as you decided to egg him on.
"Don't do this, Y/N. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation."
"And I don't want a civilized conversation, it's only making you ask me stupid questions."
"They're not stupid questions. Can you not understand my side of this?"
"Nope, I won't because I don't care about your side, actually."
"The fuck? And you just expect me to understand your side when you won't even try to understand mine? I’m expected to know how you feel? Well news flash, Y/N, I can't exactly read minds.” He humorlessly tapped his head for effect, quipping at you harshly.
"I'm not asking you to read my mind, I'm just asking you to fucking pay attention for once in your goddamn life." You rolled your eyes dramatically, arms crossed tight as ever.
Taehyung noticeably grew angry at the remark, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Do not tell me of all people I don't pay attention. You know I've changed over the years but how attentive I am hasn't. Don't ever say that to me again." Taehyung's stern voice warned you of the line you were crossing.
You immediately softened and turned your attitude down a notch, only by a margin since you knew he would never grow angry enough to do anything to you.
"Fine, you pay attention, but clearly not enough." You acquiesced, looking away from him.
Taehyung tried his best to reason now that he sensed you yielding. "Look, this is my first time hearing about this, okay? I had no clue, especially because you seemed and acted fine with me. Of course I'm going to tell you you should've just talked to me, I'm seriously not asking stupid questions."
"Well, I didn't want to talk to you."
"And how was that going to help you? It's only making us argue over something so easily fixable." He indirectly accused you and you returned your eyes to his, narrowing them at his audacity.
"Wow, easily fixable, huh? Do you really think it takes that little to earn my forgiveness after neglecting me for an entire month? Am I that easy to you?" You smiled to yourself miserably, turning away as tears spilled from you.
Your assumptions were correct, he really just thought of you as some easy pushover. Part of this was your fault, wasn't it? Being so quiet and passive about everything. You voluntarily let him get away with everything, let him slip away without a fight, and the frustration of that realization came washing down on you, hard.
"No, wait. That's not what I meant. I just meant that if you'd let me known earlier, we wouldn't be fighting like this." Taehyung instantly softened at your tears with regret, internally facepalming himself.
"I didn't want to openly tell you, okay? It makes me seem...like an attention-seeker, and I was so afraid of bothering you." You wore your heart on your sleeve as your voice wavered, more tears escaping as you attempted to blink them away.
Taehyung looked at you with overwhelming worry. His heart was beyond broken now, his desire to fix everything growing stronger with every tear that dared escape your eyes.
He needed to make this right, fast.
"It doesn't make you a fucking attention-seeker, Y/N. Stop being so worried about how you appear to me, I'm with you for a reason. I accept you in any way, especially after how much we fought for this, for us. Your feelings too, they're all fucking valid to me. I really would've done something if you’d just told me how you felt." Taehyung practically pleaded, his pouty lips and devastated eyes making it clear he just wanted to reach some sort of consensus with you.
"But that's the problem, Tae." You sniffled, wiping some tears. "You keep saying I should’ve told you, when you should've noticed on your own in the first place."
Taehyung felt like someone had slapped him across the face, his lips parting as a deep look of realization dawned on his gorgeous face. "I…" He trailed, but couldn't let words out. He was realizing how stupid he was, how unobservant and ignorant. He hated it all, hated that he was so busy, hated that he didn't pay enough attention and hated that he hurt you.
You gave up when his lack of words warranted a tense silence between you two, cut short when you hastily left the room. You walked in the direction of the parking lot angrily. You just needed some air, needed to go home and cleanse yourself of him for the time being.
You thought you were being quick enough, until you heard laboured footsteps and Taehyung's low voice echoing in the hallway, tailing you.
"Y/N! Wait, wait! Please, don’t walk away!" Taehyung practically begged as he rushed to your side.
"I'm not gonna wait for anything, I'm going home!"
"Stop! My manager's gonna take us home tonight, okay? We're gonna talk about this." He stated with solidarity as he grabbed your arm, eager to patch things up.
"No we're not, and I have my own car, I'm getting myself home." You snatched your arm from him and marched on.
"You can leave it here for fuck's sake, and I said stop. We're going home together and sorting this out because I can't leave you like this, okay? We need to fix this."
"Awh, all I'm getting from that is you'll finally be home for once!" You chirped sarcastically, never looking at him as you practically stomped away. You saw him falter from your side, knowing he had to have paused at the heft of your comment.
You both eventually made it through the building’s doors, you needing to be pretty much dragged into his manager’s car despite your vehement protest, stupidly shut into the back with him.
You were turned away putting on an Oscar’s worthy performance of pretending he wasn’t there, and Taehyung was left to canvas his numerous thoughts as the car drove.
He realized he had said nothing to your comment earlier because.. you were right.
When was the last time he sat in a car with you like this? The last time you were both home together? The last time you both lazily threw your things onto the floor once you arrived home and immediately smothered each other after holding back all day? The last time he held you in his arms while you two watched a trashy movie?
Holy fuck, when was the last time we had sex? Made love?
He could only think of memories from weeks ago in quarantine, nothing recent. His solemn gaze fell upon you as he thought. He could feel the prominent tension between you two, the gut-wrenching distance, leaving a black hole swallowing his heart. He felt no ease, no affection, no love.
When did it fucking become like this?
He was still struggling to stomach the fact that he hurt you. He watched you regretfully, tears pricking at his eyes as he saw you attempting to hold back your own.
He then felt the sudden need to hold you, to comfort you. You had been pulling away from him for so long that he wanted nothing but to feel his large, warm hand cradle your smaller, colder one. Reassure you that while he's stupid, he's still here.
Taehyung looked at you and leaned over, deciding to gently slide a reaffirming hand atop yours, gripping your fingers with all the love and warmth he could muster.
He expected you to reject him, nearly giving up on a reaction until he felt your tentative hand just barely grab his back. Surprised, he took a relaxed breath.
I'm going to fix this.
Taehyung shut the door as you two sauntered into your apartment and you disregarded your things, heading straight for your room. You thought it would make Taehyung leave you alone, but he caught your hand as you began stepping away. He didn’t yank you; simply held your wrist, still and remorseful with your back to him.
A long pause passed as he stood in place, silence piercing the air until you spoke coldly, "What do you want?"
“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage, his once powerful voice so incredibly small.
You searched for a response, the air becoming somewhat suffocating as you sighed. “I know.”
“No, you don’t. Jagiya, I mean it. I mean it with everything I have. I'm so sorry” Taehyung insisted with meaning, like he was seconds away from falling apart if you didn't believe him.
You could hear the sincerity in his words and you could feel how heartbroken he was, but your exhaustion amassed with all the emotions that had been attacking you all week were discouraging you from participating in any conversation right now.
“You may mean it, but that’s not fixing anything, Taehyung. You really don’t know how it felt to have you ignore me. To see you unaffected by our time apart. It felt like you were pushing me away, like I wasn’t worth your fucking time anymore.”
“That’s wrong, Jagiya. You are always worth my time.”
“Then maybe you’re just a contradictive jerk, Taehyung, I don’t know!” You threw your hands up as you broke his hold, turning around vexed.
"Because one day you're telling me to basically fuck off because you're too busy but the next you're saying I'm worth all your time? Where the fuck was that the last month then? All you had to do was spare me a couple hours a week, just a couple. I wasn't even asking for much, you could've made the time!"
“I'm sorry, okay! I’m a jerk, I get it, but I had a reason! I have a fucking reason but right now I want to apologize and say I'm sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, I’m sorry I neglected you and made you feel alone, I never intended that!” Taehyung sincerely implored, eyes worried and persistent as he reached for you.
“Then what did you intend? Saying sorry after the fact does nothing. If you didn’t intend to hurt me then what did you intend to do?!” You shouted, evading his touch again.
“I was doing it for you! The reason was all for you, for us!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as anger seeped into your blood, unbelieving of whatever excuses you thought he was making up.
“For me? Us? Really? Wow, did you suddenly quit your job as an idol to become comedian of the fucking year?” You quipped venomously. "How the fuck is you ignoring me for a month 'for our relationship'?"
Taehyung was trying hard to calm himself down, thinking twice about how he was going to handle this. "Y/N, please, just try to trust me on this."
You scoffed disbelievingly, shaking your head as you quickly made your way further into the apartment and over to your TV. Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed as he watched you reach towards the shelf underneath it. It was adorned with cherished photos of the people you both held most dear; family, friends, the boys. Most of them consisted of Taehyung entertaining his love for photography, having snapped stunning photos of scenery, people or a combination of both he adored enough to frame.
But many were of you two, either in front of gorgeous landscapes or adorable candids. You picked up a photograph of you two in Daegu—Taehyung's big arms enveloping yours from behind as you hooked onto them, all smiles in front of his family's strawberry farm after his camera’s timer snapped the photo.
“See this? This is something you did for us, you told me you only take and frame photos of the most beautiful moments in your life, and you gave this to me telling me it was your favourite moment.” You placed the frame down, opting to grab the gray Sherpa blanket off the couch in front of you.
“This? You got this for me after I was diagnosed with anemia during Christmas and had been shivering for months. You told me not to worry because you’d always keep me warm and whenever you weren’t there I could use this blanket instead, think of it as you. You did that for me.” You disregarded the blanket and held up your wrist.
“This bracelet? You got it for our anniversary and made it our equivalent of promise rings because you know I hate rings. You even made sure your bracelet matched in a way that other people wouldn't notice and was only special to us." You watched as Taehyung slightly lifted his left hand to look at the mentioned bracelet. "You did that for me, for us.” Tears were brimming your eyes as you spoke, voice growing shaky.
“Taehyung, you did all those sweet and thoughtful things for us, for me. Those are the kinds of things you should be doing, not fucking hurting me by acting like I don't matter to you, making me question everything. What’s wrong with you? How could you scare me like that? Treat me like I’m nothing and say it’s for our relationship?”
“You're not, you're not nothing." Taehyung's voice caught in his throat, trying hard to dry his glassy eyes.
"I get it, Y/N. I fucking get it, what I’m doing right now may not seem as sweet as all those other things, but I promise it’s as thoughtful, it's still all for you. I’m serious when I say that, this is all because I love you. Why can’t you just believe me?”
"And why can’t you just say what it is? Why won't you tell me? Are you hiding something? Taehyung, what you did felt like anything but love-"
"That’s not true. The reason is insignificant right now because I didn't mean to hurt you, I’m so fucking sorry.” Taehyung's voice shook with genuity, trying once again to approach you, gingerly, affectionately.
Your anger couldn’t subside with the way he kept side-tracking, however, your emotions growing erratic again. "Are you kidding me? Insignificant? The reason is the most important! Just tell me, why did you ignore me for an entire fucking month?!”
"I said it's not fucking important right now. I want to apologize first, I didn’t mean to do it!" Taehyung was desperate to reason, eyes begging you to believe him.
“It is important! Tell me what you’re hiding.”
“It’s not important.”
“Yes it is!”
“No it isn’t!”
“Yes it is!”
“No it isn’t! I'm trying to earn your forgiveness firs-Y/N, what are you.." Taehyung’s eye widened in shock.
He couldn't finish his sentence because he watched you grab a cushion from the couch and suddenly launch it in his direction.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?!” Taehyung exclaimed as he dodged, his large hands instinctively catching the object, looking at you like a confused puppy. “Did you just throw that at me?!”
“I did! And I'll do it again until you tell me what you’re hiding!” You challenged him like a child and started reaching for throwable things. Pens, notepads, books, even a stray plastic water bottle all went hurtling towards Taehyung.
You couldn’t stop throwing out of frustration, his unfair gift of ambidextrous hands and incredible catching skills making you even more frustrated.
Did he really have to be made so fucking perfect?
He continued defending himself from your attacks until he grew annoyed, “For the love of God, Y/N, stop throwing shit! Just put everything down and listen to me, you have to trust me before I can even explain myself!” Taehyung shouted more so with concern for you, dodging a bottle of vitamins.
Now why the fuck was that just lying around?
You snorted condescendingly, "Again with that, trust you?" You mocked as the TV remote came into your hand.
"You know what, Taehyung? Let me explain for you, you’ve just found someone new who's not fucking staff, haven’t you? Our relationship got too difficult and you’ve finally had enough. You’re hiding shit to save my feelings, aren’t you?” You accused him much to your dismay, angry tears pooling in your eyes.
"What-no! Fuck no I would never do or think any of that!" Taehyung vehemently denied, finally having reached you and wrestled you for the remote. He eventually pried it out of your hands, throwing it away and holding your wrists as you resisted him.
"It’s none of that, alright? I was just so damn stressed and I had way too much work. There’s so much going on, it fucks with me and I didn't want to make you my fucking mental care, unload my idol life crap onto you. You're working just as hard and I didn't want to burden you.” Taehyung desperately revealed trying to reach you, upset that you could even think such ridiculous, lowly things of him.
"Don't you dare use work as an excuse. I know you were busy and stressed, but you were making time for everyone else in your life except me. Just say it, Tae. I know you're tired of us!"
"Fucking-Y/N, it's literally not that at all. I was actually busy, okay? What I said is true!" Taehyung pleaded, he knew he was only telling part of the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie.
"It can't just be that, there's no way. What are you hiding from me? I'm serious, I'll leave this conversation if you don't, I'll leave this apartment if you don't-”
"No! Just-alright! You really wanna know so badly?” Taehyung inquired rhetorically, his jaw locking. “Fine then. You fucking got found out.”
You stopped fighting him and blinked, confusion riddling all your features. Taehyung sighed deeply and continued before you could say anything.
“We got too comfortable, okay? I'm still an idol and our team heard a shit ton of rumours spreading outside the company about me dating someone. They controlled most and knew any remaining ones would just turn into baseless gossip since nobody knew your identity. I’d just get talked about which I didn't care about. But people somehow started finding your face, your name, and your information was spreading fast. Management was scared you'd be made public especially with reporters and cameras so up our asses these days and watching us. I was terrified when they told me. I couldn't let anyone know you, not when they’d do or say shit to you just because we're together… so I had to do something."
Now it was your turn to stand in shock for several seconds, utterly wide-eyed at the bullet you didn't even know Taehyung was keeping from you.
“What-what the fuck? What do you mean? When did this happen?"
"The same time I started 'ignoring' you. Nobody pressured me to break up with you, but I was warned to dissolve the rumours asap. I took matters into my own hands by acting the way I did to get people thinking we were either broken up or never dating in the first place. I hated doing it.. but it started working. I didn't want to tell you anything because I knew you'd just say we could solve everything together when we weren't in a position to do so." Taehyung wasn't hiding his clear anguish, upset having to recall his awful memories of the ordeal.
You were still shocked at how little you knew, finding yourself at least understanding of his actions and reasoning, but crossed your mind better ways to have dealt with this; especially ones that didn't entail hurting you.
"But Taehyung, you should've let me known. If you had just told me I wouldn't have gotten hurt like this. Why would you keep this from me?"
"I just.. I couldn't tell you. It felt like I was breaking up with you and I couldn't handle it. Even when I finally had the balls to do it I ended up prolonging because I just got so busy and pushed everything away to focus. I felt like I could deal with it on my own, fix it all by myself. I didn't want to drop this on you when you were busy too."
You exhaled harshly, hating how unfair this entire situation was. "You could’ve told me with something like this, Taehyung. I can't just let you carry the burden all on your own, this entire problem had to do with me. We promised we wouldn’t keep shit from each other especially considering the circumstances of our relationship. Why would you break that promise?" Your eyes welled up again, inhaling painfully.
Taehyung paused, scoffing humorlessly. "Yeah? I broke that promise? Jagi...you broke that promise too."
You blinked again, his eyes piercing yours poignantly as you could only look back at him in defeat.
He was right.
He was entirely right, you hid your feelings from him and never told him anything, a clear violation of that promise on your end. But you couldn't let his wrongdoings go either, not on this; the hurt, the doubt, the thoughts he made you think. That pain was making you fall apart and the reality of it all came crashing down on you. "An apology still can’t fix this, Taehyung. I want to go to bed, we'll talk about this tomorrow.”
You pulled away and moved towards your room until Taehyung rushed in front of you, grabbing onto your arms.
“Wait! This isn’t over, baby please, just listen to me.”
“It is for today, Taehyung. I can't do this right now.”
“No, I don’t want tomorrow. I want this now, I want to talk to you now.” Taehyung insisted with what seemed like his entire being. He didn't want to spend tonight like this; he didn't want you to sleep upset, and neither did he.
“Taehyung, you’re making me repeat myself. Let me go, please. I’m exhausted.” You choked on your words, swiping your tears.
“No, I told you I’m not fucking letting you go, especially not now.” He gripped you stubbornly, searching for your eyes.
“Taehyung, for the love of God just let me go-”
“I said no!” Taehyung's volume suddenly pierced the room, his intense aura stilling you.
He didn't sound angry. rather in need, like he was calling out to you with his entire heart and the tight hold on your arms gave it all away.
You finally decided to pay attention to him. His tone beyond serious, his eyes swimming with worry. His miserable face and refusal to let you go regrettably softened you. You understood him, saw the desperation and concern behind all his actions.
But he chose to neglect you. He made you feel alone, made you overthink numerous possibilities about your relationship and even question his feelings for you.
"You.." You exhaled with agony, swallowing hard.
None of this was easy, the nights you spent curled up on the couch overthinking, lying to everyone that you were okay, working in the studio alone to get him off your mind, blaming yourself. The accumulated pain of all those days now manifested in your chest all at once, making your heart ache.
"You made me feel like I wasn't important to you, like I wasn't worth your time. I.. thought you found someone better, easier.. that I wasn't enough for you." Your voice crumbled by the second, your mind jumping to the one conclusion you tried to avoid the most but couldn't any longer.
"I thought you weren't in love with me anymore."
Taehyung's heart shattered into a million pieces, overwhelming hurt piercing his chest so violently that tears instantly betrayed his eyes.
He couldn't bear any of this anymore, the tension, the distance, couldn't bear that you ever thought such an awful thing. Small tears escaped him as he gently placed his hands on your face, looking into your eyes with insurmountable pain before colliding his lips with yours.
He kissed you tenderly, passionately, like his mouth was dying to express how much he'd missed you, and trying harder to prove how utterly wrong your last words were. Before you could even reject him, you found your own lips mirroring the same longing, the same need after a painful month apart.
Your eyes fluttered shut as tears stained your cheeks, the sheer love you could feel in his kiss suddenly brightening any parts inside you that had grown dark because of him. He began working against your mouth hungrily, trying to commit every inch of your lips to his memory.
The kiss was fervent, utterly desperate, your harsh breaths mingling together as his hands on your cheeks wiped your tears away gingerly and yours clutched his hoodie tightly.
It's like he was consuming all of you, attempting to deepen the kiss with every second that passed by as he pulled you closer. And for once this past month, you didn't feel like questioning his feelings for you, because he was now serving them on a silver platter, making it blatantly obvious he had never once lost his love for you and will never do so.
He kissed you like he wanted you and only you, he kissed you like you were fleeting and could disappear at any moment, he kissed you like you were his home, like you meant any and everything to him, like you were the only galaxy he believed in and it did nothing but set you both ablaze.
His tongue swiped your bottom lip impatiently, wanting to taste you after so long and you permitted absent-mindedly, damning every emotion except love and lust to hell, welcoming him.
His tongue entangled with yours sloppily as you slid your hands up his sculpted neck, a soft groan escaping Taehyung's lips once you tugged his hair.
It wasn't until Taehyung caught your bottom lip between his teeth that you felt something ignite inside you. You both panted as you disconnected, gazing at his dark eyes for a mere second before impatiently crashing your mouth onto his again.
This time you caught him for a heated make out session, pulling his hair aimlessly as Taehyung pressed you against him with his arms snaking around your waist, both of you moving perfectly in sync with one other. The feeling of your bodies so close ignited your arousals, currents running through both your veins.
Taehyung pushed you back against the nearest wall, hard. You nearly yelped at the contact but Taehyung swallowed it with his eager kisses, getting rougher, sloppier, growing high off the feeling of you wanting more, him wanting so much more.
He brought his thigh in between you, pushing his hips against yours and you felt his hardness through his sweatpants. Your panties practically soaked at the contact, your moans devastatingly loud and hot and only making Taehyung harder.
He brought his hands down to cup your ass momentarily as he kissed you, sliding them to the back of your thighs. You kicked yourself off the ground into his hold, legs grappling Taehyung's waist as he forced you back up against the wall. Your hands grabbed his jaw tightly, wanting all of him as your tongues moulded together.
Taehyung felt his urges to touch you overwhelm him, utterly dying to hear you desperately say his name and moan breathlessly into his ear. He had gone too long, far too long without feeling you lose yourself to him that he needed you now.
One of Taehyung's impatient hands moved up to fumble with the button of your jeans, disconneting to look into your eyes, his pink, swollen lips irresistible.
"Have you been touching yourself?" He breathed hard and asked mere centimeters your mouth, forehead leaning on yours.
"B-barely. I couldn't get myself off the same way." You exhaled harshly trying to calm down, mind woozy from the sheer adrenaline he was pumping through you. "You?"
"Tried, but nothing felt like you."
Taehyung returned his lips to yours breathlessly and unzipped roughly, sliding his hand inside and finding your already sopping wet heat. His fingers made contact through the soaked material and you let out a satisfied moan, throwing your head back against the wall. Taehyung chuckled proudly, pressing his lips to your exposed neck as he began lewdly rubbing your folds.
Your walls clenched around nothing, begging for something to fill you up. You shamelessly rode against his fingers, desperate for more friction and Taehyung absolutely adored how needy you were.
He smirked to himself as he pushed your underwear aside, his fingertips suddenly touching your bare pussy and you automatically felt sparks, gasping.
Taehyung felt your delicious wetness and a satisfied groan left his lips. He couldn’t stop rubbing you, playing with your folds like it was a game he mastered ages ago. His digits spread you all over yourself, teasing you. He purposefully brushed over your clit multiple times and you felt nothing but fireworks, the heat between your legs growing so hot you clutched onto his shoulders to stay sane.
"Fuck.. Taehyung fuck! If you go inside.. I can't.. I'll fucking lose it." You stammered out, trying to relax but Taehyung eyed your panting figure with a smirk so evil you wished he'd just fuck you against this wall right now.
Taehyung brought his lips to your ear and spoke lowly, the bass in his voice sending chills down your spine.
"Then fucking lose it."
Without warning, Taehyung shoved his two fingers inside you, a smug grin decorating his gorgeous face as he watched you nearly cry out, gripping harder into his hair and shoulder for dear life. His fingers began sliding in and out, your walls welcoming him greedily as he pumped you, milking out every beautiful sound you could make for him as he relished in them.
Taehyung was already the hardest man on Earth, his cock painfully tucked away in his pants and aching to be inside you. You brought your forehead against his for support as he went harder, your breaths melding as you panted fucked out moans from the sheer bliss of his long fingers, just something of his dragging inside you.
Your body moved up against the rougher thrusts of his fingers, practically fucking you open and the delectable sting certifying you’d lost it for Kim Taehyung.
You suddenly felt your insides beginning to stir around him and you panicked, not wanting to let go just yet, just on his fingers.
"T-Taehyung.. shit.. I can feel but- but not just on this." Your head was so gone a coherent sentence seemed impossible. Taehyung's fingers curled up inside you as he pumped a little harder, faster, making you whimper against his mouth and he used every ounce of strength he had not to swallow them with kisses, just so he could hear you.
"Taehyung, please.." You moaned loudly and held onto him so desperately that Taehyung finally snapped, his dick throbbing to have you wrapped around him and hear his name just like that.
"Fuck this." Taehyung pulled his fingers out and carried you straight into your room.
He threw you down onto the bed hurriedly, his eyes blown out as he positioned himself above you. You breathed unevenly as you looked up at him, his body rising and falling quickly as he tried to control himself and his hungry look made you push your thighs together.
The sight of your flushed cheeks and panting body underneath him made Taehyung's dominant side thrive. He drank you in greedily, registering this as the first time in a month he had you all to himself.
"You don't fucking know, Y/N. All those times I had to hold back. When you walked around the studio looking sexy as hell, moving your body like pure sin, and I couldn't do a single thing to you." Taehyung's dark eyes indicated something had awakened inside him.
"What do you mean?"
Taehyung scoffed, "You just don't get it." He mimicked you from earlier. “I was putting on a front and none of it was true. Every fucking time I saw you I wanted to lose it. Every time I saw you concentrating with that look, working, seeing your exposed skin, all the times I caught you practically eye-fucking me and I wanted to eye-fuck you back." Taehyung breathed out, voicing his pent up tension.
"But you know what was worse? The times I saw you laughing with fucking Jungkook, screwing around with Jin-hyung, the guys acting so close with you. Watching back-up dancers eye-fuck you, hearing all their fucking comments about how hot you are, people asking if you’re single now, and I couldn't do shit because everyone was always around, watching." Taehyung breathed frustratedly, dangerous eyes locked on you.
"You know I don't get openly jealous, but my blood still boils under my skin when I see or hear those things, especially when I can’t do anything about it. I wanted you.. so badly, just wanted to take you right there in front of everyone if I could.." Taehyung nearly growled as his head hung low, entangling his hands with yours and squeezing them on the bed.
"Then why didn't you?"
Taehyung's eyes flashed up amusedly, "Why didn’t-you wanted me to do something in front of everyone?” His confusion softened into a little smirk.
“You wanted to be watched, huh?" Taehyung lowered himself to your ear. "Wanted everyone see the way I fuck you? See the way I make you mine? Fuck you open for me?” Taehyung was setting your core on fire and you had to bite your lip.
He noticed and hated that his lips weren't on yours, quickly planting them for a kiss.
The weight of Taehyung's leg pushing against your throbbing heat started compromising your sense of control, wanting to rile him up so bad he'll have no choice but to give you what you want.
"Fuck, this is what I've been waiting for. Teasing you under me, cumming just from my fingers and tongue, fucking you senseless until you’re cumming again." Taehyung's words were filthy as ever and you loved every syllable.
"Then do it."
He smiled smugly as his mouth moved to the one spot on your neck he knew leaves you squirming. Curses left your mouth the second you felt his teeth, Taehyung adamant on leaving deep, purple marks.
“I'm gonna show everyone you're mine, only mine.” Taehyung’s authoritative voice came out breathy as he kissed and bit in between, obsessed with seeing the art he was creating.
"Shit… Taehyung yes, I missed you, I missed you so fucking much." You desperately stammered out.
"I fucking missed you too, baby." He smiled, his dark eyes glancing from your zip-up sweater and back to you. "But first, off."
Your hands moved for the zipper until Taehyung caught your wrists and forced them back against the bed, obsidian eyes scolding you.
"That's my job." Taehyung spoke dominantly, hot as fuck as he stared at you while bringing his mouth down to your zipper.
His teeth caught it and slowly zipped down your body, pronouncedly breathing against your bare skin that made you hiss, arching up into him as he held your hands down.
Taehyung was welcomed by your bra-cladded chest, basking in the glory of seeing your body after so long. He began laying kisses in between your breasts, his every contact electric.
"Taehyung, please.. don't tease. It’s been so long."
"We'll see about that."
He reached a hand underneath your back to unclip your bra, practically ripping the clothes off you and chucking them.
Taehyung was heating up drinking you in, cursing at how even the sight of your naked top was making him somehow harder.
"Shit, Jagi. You're so fucking gorgeous." Taehyung stated with haste as his large hands found your thighs that rested either side of his hips. He then slowly slid them up your abdomen, cupping your breasts and fingering your nipples. Your hands reached out to hold onto him as you exclaimed but he roughly pinned them above you, restricting you.
He lowered himself to your chest for hickeys, kissing, licking, nibbling the flesh of your boobs. You arched and groaned as he held you down, sexually frustrated as he torturously teased you.
"Taehyung, please… you know what I want." You breathed out, your hands resisting but he kept denying you.
"You’re so fucking hot like this, so impatient and needy for me." Taehyung groaned, lapping his tongue over the flesh of your breasts until the tip of his tongue finally glided over your perched nipple.
You gasped at the contact, whimpering as your walls clenched around something non-existent and you bucked up into Taehyung. You could feel heat pooling at your core, begging to be battered as he sucked on your nipples, tongue doing wonders.
Marks now embellished your chest as he kissed down to your stomach affectionately and neared your lower half, exciting your opening.
Your eyes darted down and suddenly caught his length, poking out from his sweatpants and practically begging for attention.
He instantly took notice.
"No, princess. It’s about you tonight, not me, no touching." Taehyung ordered seriously, looking at you with a sense of dominance that only left you more aroused.
You made a whiny noise, "Why not? I want to make you feel good." You retorted, wiggling your hand out to touch him until Taehyung locked you down harder.
He clicked his tongue as he began pulling your pants and panties down your legs with one hand, his dark eyes chastising you, "We'll get to me another day." He disregarded them and let his hand feel up your thighs, bringing his face to your entrance.
"But right now, having you like this, begging-” he nipped at your inner thigh, “making those sounds-” he licked the marks, “wet as hell for me-” he sucked your flesh, “that's all I need." His tone dropped an octave, letting your wrists go and nearing your cunt inch by inch.
"Taehyung, fuck-don't do this. Please, it's been too long, don't tease.." You pleaded, hating the way he was shamelessly working you up.
"Do you need me, baby?" Taehyung watched your breath hitch as he kissed around your nether lips. "Need to feel me inside you? Stretch you out? Fuck the shit out of you?" His low, dark tone made butterflies fill your abdomen and all you could manage was a light nod.
"Tell me, Jagiya. Tell me what you want from me, where you want me.." Taehyung breathed against your soaked pussy and you shivered, beyond impatient.
"Y-your tongue, your cock, Taehyung, you. Please..I can’t do this.. just fuck me, make me come all over you.." You rambled and looked at Taehyung through hooded eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and brought him directly to your dripping heat, rubbing him against your slit unforgivingly.
Taehyung groaned proudly, "Good girl. I'll fuck you so good you’ll feel me for hours, so hard I’ll have to carry you to rehearsals myself." Taehyung's filthy words rang in your ears.
A loud moan escaped you once Taehyung's pillowy lips and tongue pressed onto your pussy, your breath hitching as his muscle began licking into your folds. Taehyung hooked onto your thighs from underneath, parting your legs wider for him. Your hands found his broad shoulders for support and you tugged at his hoodie frantically, whining.
"Taehyung, off.."
Taehyung drew away from you to slide his top off. He threw the sweater mindlessly as he returned, deciding to sink two fingers inside you as his tongue began licking. His newly exposed skin made you feel more aroused, tugging his soft curls to manage the bliss he was supplying you.
His tongue licked you like he was starving, sucking and flicking your clit occasionally as his fingers curled up inside your velvety walls. You felt like crying, after such a long time the pleasure was already building up inside you and so intense you needed to let go.
"Taehyung-Tae.. I feel it. Don't stop..." You moaned weakly, your orgasm dawning on you as Taehyung quickened his pace. His dark eyes watched you through his fluffy fringe and it was intoxicating, had you throwing your head back against the pillow just to contain yourself.
"Come for me baby, come all over my tongue and fingers. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung cooed at you as he pumped and the tip of his tongue played with your clit faster, soothing your thigh and adoring the wet mess in between you. Your loud moans and groans sent shivers down Taehyung's spine and blood straight to his cock.
The familiar sensation of something coiling came to you, gripping Taehyung's hair until you saw stars and felt a fierce snap, the unholiest of noises leaving you as your back arched. You panted hard, bringing an arm up to shield your eyes, the pleasure of your high dizzying as Taehyung watched you, tasting and fingering out your orgasm.
He kissed your entrance multiple times before he decided he was done. He straightened himself up and wiped your juices off his chin, licking your essence off him. Feeling you come undone on his mouth made him go feral, needing to feel your walls hug his cock just the same.
He positioned himself above you, gently moving your arm from your face.
"Don't hide from me." he spoke softly, intertwining his hands with yours against the pillow to adore your fucked out expression.
You admired him innocently in the moment, his honey-coloured skin kissed by the moonlight radiating through the windows. The expanse of his broad chest and shoulders looking more bulky now that he was working out, his thick neck, the beautifully visible veins in his arms that all created the art that was Kim Taehyung.
Your eyes scanned over him greedily until you landed on his lower half, the tent in his pants looking so painful you again ached to relieve it.
Taehyung eyed you as you licked your lips, boldly reaching out for his dick. You touched sparingly, Taehyung instantly letting out a pleasurable groan until he caught your hand.
"What did I say? You never fucking listen, do you?" Taehyung brat-handled you, his alpha male on full display.
“What if I don’t want to listen?” You disobeyed and reached out again, gaining full contact until he grabbed and forced your hand against the sheets.
“I’ll make you regret that."
Taehyung quickly shuffled his pants and boxers down and past his hips, disregarding them and leaving him bare before you.
Your eyes began ogling the angry, red tipped cock that had sprung out, looking painfully uncomfortable and leaving you wishing Taehyung had just fucked your mouth just watch him suffer. He was already leaking precum, making you whimper at the thought of him coming inside you.
Taehyung positioned himself in between your legs, bringing his dick to your entrance. He tried to bite away a mischievous grin before sliding his cock against your folds to mix your wetness with his.
"Shit, Jagi, you're so fucking wet." Taehyung moaned with you at the pleasurable feeling.
"Fuck, Taehyung…I can’t, I need.. inside." Your sentence was mangled, his hot flesh against you heavenly.
"Shit, saying my name like that..I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me in your throat." Taehyung growled, gripping the base of his cock and aligning himself with your entrance. You readied yourself until Taehyung stopped, a thought suddenly popping into his head.
"Wait, you got your shot this month, right? You're okay with raw?" He asked with no particular haste, concern glossing over his eyes.
Taehyung's chest suddenly tightened realizing he didn't even know something as simple as you getting your shot, important to him since your phobia of needles was so bad you usually needed to hold his hand or talk to him on the phone.
But he was so busy this month he couldn't do either.
"Of course, Taehyung, of course I did." You breathed out erratically, trying to calm down after his tormenting cock sliding. You gave his hand that held yours against the bed a squeeze, wishing he would begin battering your insides already.
"Fuck, I know how much you're afraid of needles.. I should've been there." Taehyung became disappointed in himself, eyes faltering from yours.
You immediately grew soft, "Taehyung.. it's okay, if it's for you then I'm not so scared. Don't worry, bubs." You said as you let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, searching for his eyes.
"But you get them just for me..even though you're so scared. I love you for that." Taehyung doted on you as he tucked your hair behind your ear, completely contrasting his cock about to abuse you.
"Taehyung, baby it’s okay, I'm okay. I'm with you right now. I want everything you thought of, everything you want with me… I want you." You looked into his doe eyes tinted with guilt, offering him a smile.
Taehyung returned a light smile of his own, pressing a feathery kiss to your lips before he grabbed the base of his cock again. He gripped your hand hard as his dick compromised your opening.
He hissed once he sank in, the feeling of your pussy opening up for him eliciting a drawn out 'fuck' to leave his mouth.
Taehyung could feel how tight you were after a month without him; you weren't as stretched out and he felt drunk. The way your walls hugged his rock hard dick so snug, so intoxicating he wanted to completely lose control but refrained with you in mind.
You thought you were used to the pleasurable burn of Taehyung's gifted size, already aware of how well-endowed he is but you suddenly felt a harsh sting and forced your hands against his chest, exasperating. Taehyung immediately stopped, widening his eyes in concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Just-just give me a second." He nodded, feeling your breaths calm down as he soothed over your arm, your walls relaxing
"Y-you can move." You voiced weakly.
Taehyung complied and moved in considerately, failing to suppress the low groans that left him. He finally bottomed out and hit your cervix, both of you letting out satisfied grunts at the feeling of him buried so deep. He could feel the way your walls pulsed around him to adjust, adding to his lists of reasons he was insane for you.
Taehyung kissed you as he began fucking gently, slowly, wanting to feel the way you wrapped around him, craving for you to feel every inch, groove and vein of his cock.
The feeling of him slowly and languidly thrusting inside you felt otherworldly, the longing, the care, the love in his movements so apparent you grappled the back of his neck to hug him closer. Taehyung rocked himself against you, laying deep kisses to your mouth.
"Fuck, baby.. you're so tight." Taehyung breathed out, unable to hold back his sense of control, gradually fastening his pace to fuck you better, feel more.
"How does it feel, princess, tell me." Taehyung cooed into your ear, now kissing underneath your jaw. Your lewd noises grew louder as he began pumping faster and Taehyung looked at you.
"Shit, Taehyung. I-I feel so fucking good. You fill me up so good… want more.” You practically whined, head spinning at his intoxicating pace, wrapping your legs around Taehyung's torso to feel him deeper.
Taehyung weakened at the feeling, kissing your lips with fervor and now thrusting faster as his need to come undone racked his balls, but aching to treat you first. His skin was imprinted with your scratches, him only fucking you faster in response.
"Harder, Taehyung, fuck me harder..!" Your voice trailed with a mewl, kissing him sloppily as your desire for more of him grew unbearable.
Taehyung smirked against your lips, "You want it harder, huh? You like that? Want me to fuck up your insides? Batter this pussy up?"
"Y-yes, Taehyung, please."
Taehyung already felt fucked out, wrestling with your tongue as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pressed you flush against him. You both groaned louder as his pace turned unforgiving, 99% sure your neighbours could hear every lewd sound.
"Taehyung.. fuck. I missed you. I missed you so much!” You spoke without a thought, light-headed but hyper aware of just how much you wanted him, needed him, not only with his cock buried inside you but just him, so close to you.
"Shit, baby.. I missed you more. So much. So fucking much, you don’t even know." Taehyung growled desperately as he fucked deeper, kissed harder, his tone coated with sincerity.
Both your confessions made for rougher fucking, nasty tongue kissing, tighter grasps on each other. You rutted against one another shamelessly, movements faltering in precision and more so in desperation as Taehyung shoved himself inside you.
And he watched as he did, seeing the way he disappeared into you between your bodies and enjoying the way you bounced in response.
"Taehyung, fuck, Taehyung.." You moaned out his name breathlessly as you gripped his shoulders, feeling your abdomen flood with heat as his cock kissed your cervix.
"Jagiya, fucking-watch it, say my name like that again and I'll fuck the living shit out of you." Taehyung warned with a growl as he rammed into you.
"T-Taehyung.."
“Such a bad fucking girl."
His arms suddenly locked you down in place, holding you tight as he began the roughest, hardest thrusts you've felt all night. Taehyung deliberately pulled all the way out only to smash back in as he felt your body jerk up in response, swallowing your whimpers.
Your moans were loud, ringing in your own ears as you felt yourself losing your sanity. He snapped into your gut, filled you up so good all you could feel was him. Your orgasm was bubbling in your stomach, begging for release now.
"Taehyung, I'm gonna- fuck, I'm gonna come!” You warned him with a pitchy yelp, the tingling feeling unbearable as his body rubbed against your clit.
"Come for me, baby, all over my fucking cock, Let me feel you." Taehyung encouraged as he desperately tried to hold his own load, wanting nothing but to witness the way you came underneath him.
And out of nowhere your second orgasm washed over you, barely noticing the snap as you ached from oversensitivity and protested him to a halt. Taehyung controlled himself as your walls continuously clamped down on him, watching you pant from fatigue.
But he decided on your punishment and suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, instinctively settling on all fours as you felt him prod your entrance. He pushed you to arch your back and pulled your ass up, giving a nice smack before kissing up your back like the demon he is. He sank in with no warning and began drilling into you again, setting a merciless pace and angling himself to fuck you completely open.
“T-Taehyung, what are you doing!”
“You’re coming for me again.”
“I can’t- Taehyung I can’t!” Your hand quickly came down to entangle with his on your hip, his deft fingers boring into your skin as he mercilessly buried every inch of his cock into you.
“You can do it! Just one more time for me princess, let go for me.” He coaxed you as he felt your walls pulsating around him again, his arms hugging your body to his and mouth breathing unevenly near your ear.
"Taehyung, Ah- fuck! C-come inside me, please!”
"Shit, I’ll stuff you with my cum, fucking give you my kids!” Taehyung grunted as he continued bartering your pussy, reaching down to roughly rub your clit. You cried out, half from sensitivity but half from pure pleasure, gripping his hand hard.
You felt the coil coming back for a third time and Taehyung’s encourgements were doing absolute wonders. "Taehyung-shit I’m gonna..fuck!”
Once he delivered a particularly hard, deep thrust with his hand on your clit, you gasped out his name as another orgasm released through your body, temporarily blinding you with bliss. Your legs grew weak as you buried your face into the pillow, trying to catch your breath.
“Just like that, baby, just like that.” Taehyung spoke supportively as he thrusted one last time before finally coming inside you, helping you ride out your climax. He groaned into your ear as he spurted hot stripes of cum inside you. You squeezed his hand on your stomach that still held you up, feeling him milk himself of every drop he had racked up just for you.
Once Taehyung felt completely vacant of his seed, relief washed over him as he kissed your upper back, both of your bodies lax and panting for air.
"You're amazing." Taehyung tried steadying his breathing, beaming as he hugged you from behind, cock still throbbing inside you. "I fucking… I held that back for so long."
"You didn’t have to… I would've thrown myself at you if you just came home." You breathed shallowly. "Could've done whatever you wanted.. I planned...on treating you cause you were so stressed."
Taehyung rolled his eyes at himself, "Ugh-don’t remind me. I already feel dumb as fuck."
You turned your head back and scolded jokingly, "Don't call yourself dumb, only I get to say that." A soft giggle escaped him as he let you go. Taehyung slowly pulled out and watched as he did so, viewing the mess in between your legs with admiration.
Taehyung swiped the cum dripping down your thighs back into your core, completely stuffing you with him until he brought his fingers to your lips. He watched you lick provocatively, his breath hitching at the sight until needing to pull his fingers out.
He then quickly made off the bed and ambled over to the bathroom, retrieving a damp towel and cleaning you up gingerly. He plopped down next to you after discarding it and threw an arm over his eyes.
You turned to look at him, feeling the butterflies of him next to you flood your chest. You wiggled closer and propped yourself on an elbow to gaze at him, your other arm laying on his chest.
Taehyung felt your eyes on him and spoke without looking. "Hi."
"Hi," you moved his arm from his face, echoing him. "Don’t hide from me."
Taehyung grinned at you, lifting his arm. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're madly in love with me. Don’t do that, I don't really deserve it." He stated dejectedly, evading your eyes to rather view the night sky.
"Kim Taehyung, what did you just say to me?"
No response.
You sighed, "Bubs, look at me." requesting with a softer tone and he returned his eyes to you hesitantly. You wagged your finger at him.
"Don't say that, okay? Maybe you should’ve told me, maybe I should’ve been more vocal about my feelings, maybe we both should’ve just communicated. It's not only your fault, it's mine too so please don't say that." Your bottom lip jutted out and your eyes implored him, upset that he was insulting himself.
He deserved every ounce of love in this world.
"Maybe.. I just..Fuck, you need to know I hated doing it, okay? Every time I saw you in that building I was dying to be with you, but I had to hold back to protect you. I couldn’t bear something happening to you, and please, please don’t think I don’t love you anymore. I do, I love you more than you’ll ever know. If I could throw all of this away for you I would." Taehyung spoke sincerely, remembering the way he saw you admit such an awful thought and he hated that he was the cause of it.
"You really don’t know how hard it was. I’m writing lyrics for my mixtape and they all end up about you. We're out at a photoshoot and I always wanted to send you pictures. I didn’t use SNS, call or text you because I knew it’d just be harder for me to create that stupid ass distance.” Taehyung ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, frustrated about it.
“Even when I was shooting commercials I thought about your reactions if you saw them. I missed you the whole time, more than you know. I just couldn’t risk anything, there was so much on the line with you and I wasn’t going to give you up. Work got in the way and there was so much happening and I just-"
“Shh shhh.” You calmed him down reaching for his cheek. “Thank you for that. I'm sorry you had to do everything by yourself, had to carry all that responsibility alone." Your lips quivered, catching Taehyung's attention.
"No, it's okay. I'm the one who made you think all those shitty things. I do find you annoying, but I could never find you that annoying." Taehyung quipped to lighten the mood and you smacked his chest.
"Hey!"
"I'm kidding, Jagi." Taehyung chuckled before letting out a long, hard sigh. "I was just so swamped with this comeback, I’m working really hard for it and got too focused." He explained regretfully, tucking his hands underneath his head.
"So you just thought fuck me for a little while, right?"
"Wha-no I didn't, I mean.. I did just fuck you but-not like that…shit, just come here!” Taehyung suddenly turned onto his side and threw his arms out, you scooted over to him instantly, giggling. He tightly wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close, pressing his lips to your hair and you kissed his shoulder.
Your hand absentmindedly found his and you intertwined them, causing a warm and comforting feeling to spread across your chest.
You found yourself becoming smaller in his hold, clutching his hand to compose yourself because you didn't feel like ruining a passionate night with tears.
Nonetheless, Taehyung sensed you growing vulnerable and pulled you on top of him, your naked bodies flush against one another. Taehyung immediately showered you with comfort, clutching you close to him.
"I’m not going anywhere, you’re with me for a lifetime, Jagiya." The smooth bass of Taehyung's voice eased you, reverberating from his chest as he senselessly soothed your back.
"Please, don't do that again. Please just tell me next time when there's a problem, I'll tell you too and we can work it out together." A hint of desperation tinted your tone, shutting your lips together to prevent yourself from crying.
"I won't, baby, I promise." Taehyung hugged you a little tighter, running a hand through your hair.
"I love you, Taehyung."
"I love you, Y/N."
#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#kim taehyung x reader#bts smut#taehyung scenario#taehyung fanfic#kim taehyung#first fic#thebtswritersclub
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