#throughout heaven and earth…I am the lucky one
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deeranon · 1 month ago
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My luck…is god tier.
41 pity baby.
1500 gems left, decided I’ll save for something else. Maybe the other marionette banners.
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batgirlsay · 5 months ago
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Send Me Into Space
An Obiyuki Astronaut AU Playlist For Obiyuki AU Bingo 2024 by @snowwhite-andtheknight
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I was excited to see this theme on my board and rework one of my old space playlists! Many of these songs are very personal to me, but the lyrics work well for Obiyuki too. Ended up with too many ending songs… but the playlist title track from Maggie is a perfect outro.
Send Me Into Space
When The Moon Brings the Silver- Matt Pond PA 5 Light Years- Mae Space Song- Beach House Neither Heaven Nor Space- Nada Surf Eventful Horizons- Anchor and Braille Stellar (Acoustic)- Incubus Starlet (Acoustic)- Matt Pond PA Deep Space- Eisley Distant Solar Systems- Julien Baker Satellite- Maggie Rogers
Summary lyrics are cited after the cut:
When The Moon Brings the Silver- Matt Pond PA
When the moon brings the silver back down The end is always beginning
Cold in the veins, your hands in mine I am real when I’m with you
My mouth full of marbles, tumbling onto your side
I’ll take my side, cross the line You take my side, cross the line
5 Light Years- Mae
It was better to start with something Together we play But then we both left off with something The right way True wasted love sustained in doubt Pretend we turn the key I'm five light years from you calling my name Goodbye my love, if I don't see you again
If grace and love sustain throughout We tend to hold those keys
Space Song- Beach House
It was late at night You held on tight From an empty seat A flash of light
Were you ever lost? Was she ever found? Somewhere in these eyes Fall back into place
Neither Heaven Nor Space- Nada Surf
So quiet It's neither heaven nor space, it's just high And the ring around the moon Looks like light and love Neither of which I get enough of
Eventful Horizons- Anchor and Braille
Eventful horizons drawing my lips in Darker matters calling out my name, out my name Pulling you closer, handing me over Take your time and fall into my space, outer space
Can't explain it to you I just feel this way Life just works out better when you're around Take this how you want it, feel this deep inside Life just tastes the sweeter when you're around
Lighter speeds approaching, space between us closing Darkness coming for us on your kiss on my kiss Unexplained black holes forming out of my soul Universe expanding, but we keep collapsing
We're so far out there some may say we're gone
Stellar (Acoustic)- Incubus
Meet me in outer space We could spend the night Watch the earth come up I've grown tired of that place Won't you come with me? We could start again
How do you do it? Make me feel like I do It's better than I ever knew
Starlet (Acoustic)- Matt Pond PA
The starlet fell from the skies She was impossibly light She lit my world blue and green
Strangers stopped being strange We kissed the fire on the face I was awake in my dreams
There's so much I don't know I still know someday I will make sense To someone
The starlet flew before dawn And passed the world and my palms And in the dark I still see
Deep Space- Eisley
We wake, with the warmth on our shoulders Brilliant invention, by you in place of sunlight And I count it such a blessing I know I'm lucky to be lost in space, with love
We knew when we stepped foot on that air ship We would be saying farewell to green and blue and gold for always, And perhaps a tear slipped down sideways, But no regrets we say and we mean it as the fire burns, And we skyrocket home
The roaring of our golden ship, The calling of our black home, It quickens our hearts to explode like engines, So reach for my hand, we have reached deep space
Lost out in space you'll never lose me
Distant Solar Systems- Julien Baker
Distant solar systems and all the minor planets Know nothing of our satellites and 747s Fireworks that recreate the birth of constellations Dying suns that laugh at shotgun powder imitations
When I am a sailor, and the sky, a pitch-black ocean I'll look down at my bleeding heart and wish I were a Vulcan
'Cause great men of science and literature Don't impress me, what can I offer? Because I am a chisel in your hand Screaming at marble from a microphone stand
Satellite- Maggie Rogers
Steady as a rock, I stand, I wait With eyes that see, but eyes that can't erase Hands that hold, but hands that can't embrace A creature longing for some saving grace
Oh, and I have long since seen the Sun It set along the banks when I was young Oh, and it's been long since you've been near But fate was never kind to us, my dear
So, send me out to space and cut me free And like a satellite, just look for me Oh, and if there's darkness in your sight I'll be in the corner of the night
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aceforwhatevenisthis · 2 years ago
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Band of Brothers - A Good Omens Fic
Summary: “I have no intention of fighting in any war.”
But that’s now.
Then, in the midst of the cracking bombshells and the ringing bullets? War didn’t -- and will never -- care about your intentions, whether human, angel, or demon.
(World War I AU?)
Word count: 7.9k
Tags: World War I, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Angst and Hurt/Comfort except the comfort is really minimal, Military, Not Beta Read, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author's philosophical musings, Demons, Switching perspectives constantly, Hell is Terrible, Heaven is just as bad but more distant, Serious Injuries
Author's Notes: I dug this up from my old drafts and it was close enough to being done so I did. Apologies if the history and/or medical stuff is outrageously wrong; I am trying my best and this was written for fun. Also, general disclaimer that a lot of the things said/done here are not reflective of my views on war (I despise the principle of it, I am very much a pacifist) but are necessary for the environment/plot of the story.
Be warned that people do die and there might be some triggering incidents (please tell me if you want something specifically tagged). Generally, warnings for: violence, chemical weapons, death, medical injuries (not described in too much detail but yeah).
Anyways, enjoy
Also on AO3!
Aziraphale had been called to service, almost entirely because he seemed able-bodied enough for the French government to draft into the army. He was in no written records but a couple of weeks or so into the start of the fighting, Aziraphale would get the strangest of glances from older men in the streets of Paris, so he decided to sign up for the MHS where they took one look at him and thought him a capable-enough physician. It took Aziraphale some amount of effort to convince himself that his new military service was not because he had received an inked letter from Heaven a few days prior. 
So off he went, riding in the back of a crowded truck, fitted in a bright blue coat and a pair of blue trousers — a stark contrast to his preferred palette. It was, however, somewhat refreshing to wear such colorful clothings again after so many years since his last grand ball. 
A sharp whistle called him to attention and the truck stopped. Aziraphale could see the gleam of eagerness and pride in the eyes of the young men around him. To die for your country, serving with dignity and courage, that was the greatest honor any young man could earn. Aziraphale had seen many wars in his time on Earth — had partaken in many as well, this was no different — and every time he couldn’t help but send a quick prayer for the men he encountered. 
But as they left the truck, joyous chatter among the newly-deployed soldiers, Aziraphale frowned at the sight of men digging — trenches? Never in his years of military service had he ever seen soldiers having to dig into the battlefield like such. Aziraphale shook his head, warring off his worry. Perhaps just a simple evolution of warfare, as it tends to happen with humans. The medical tents were but a stroll away from the trenches and so Aziraphale slipped away and got to work. Already there were soldiers in need of attention and there wasn’t a moment to waste.
-----------------
Three weeks later and the trenches were miles along, eventually running throughout all of Europe. 
A month and the stench became unbearable. One week later and the soldier’s boots were sogged all the way through. It didn’t take long for their feet to rot away. 
Nearly four months and Aziraphale thought he could get used to the sight of corpses littered along the battlefield, in the trenches, in the medical tents. But the men weren’t smiling anymore and Aziraphale considered himself lucky that he wasn’t on the frontlines. The men who came back alive from there were the ones who at first wouldn’t cry, but at night Aziraphale saw them scream into the night void and curl in on themselves. Those were the ones he prayed for the most.
It was nearly three in the morning when Aziraphale paused from washing dirty rags and saw one of the men from the frontlines kick at a tree and then slide his back down the trunk, his head between his shaking knees. The young soldier stayed like that until the sun rose over the horizon, lighting up the dark patches of blood blanketing the destroyed ground around all of them. The next time he saw the young soldier, a mere two days later, Aziraphale was helping the stretcher-bearers support the weight of the soldier’s cold body. 
The wrong end of a German machine gun was the last thing the young soldier saw. Aziraphale made sure to personally pass the news to the soldier’s secret lover, who was recovering in a hospital cot from a delicate amputation. 
“Sir Doctor,” the lover choked out in French, reaching for Aziraphale’s sleeve. “Please tell me he went quickly.”
Aziraphale fought the urge to grit his teeth. With a warm plastic smile he’s come to perfect in his months reassuring dying soldiers, he said, “Yes, he did.” 
The lover nodded and clutched a small green diary to his chest. Aziraphale resigned quietly and sought out other patients in need in the tent. 
Within two weeks, the secret lover would be sent home. Nearly fifty years later, Aziraphale would see him again, guiding his hand as they wrote a memoir for the young soldier and his secret lover, a green diary nearby that was in near perfect condition. It would take nearly another fifty years for the memoir to reach the public. It was the one of the only books Aziraphale ever bought various copies of to sell in his bookshop, because it would be after the war that he made sure no soldier would be forgotten to the harsh desert sands of time. 
But that’s later, and this is now.
-----------------
Crowley lounged atop his bed in the barracks, surrounded by his fellow soldiers. He smiled as he placed down his cards on his rough mattress. “I believe that,” he pointed to the pile of makeshift tokens on the ground, “is mine, boys.” 
Hans threw down his cards and nearly banged his head on the wooden ceiling. “You cheated!” he shouted in German. 
“I absolutely did not,” Crowley answered with feigned outrage. He looked down at the bed beneath his own. “Did I, Erich?”
Erich snorted, gathering some cards and shuffling them. “You always do, Crowley. I don’t know why anyone’s surprised anymore.” 
“Rematch!” called out Hans. He then promptly cringed when some half-asleep soldiers at the other side of the bunker glared at him. More quietly, he said, “I’ll keep an eye on you this time.”
Crowley laughed and resettled back into his mattress. “Yeah, I think I’m done for the day, boys.”
“I’ll wager my portion of tomorrow’s breakfast.” Crowley could feel the smirk on Hans’ face. 
The demon let out a deep breath and shifted, rubbing his eyes. “Erich, you think they’ll give out something good for breakfast tomorrow?”
Erich put the cards away and tucked the tokens under his mattress. “I think Crowley’s saying ‘no,’ Hans.” 
“Bullcrap! You’d never give up a wager, would you, Crowley?”
“Contrary to popular belief,” Crowley said while pulling his hat down his face, “I do have some form of self-control.” He lifted the hat a little to give Hans a once-over. “Unlike some people.”
“Hey!”
“Honestly, Hans, get some sleep,” muttered Erich as he rolled over on his mattress. “Save it for the frontlines.” 
Hans looked at Erich and then at Crowley, before deciding to look at the ceiling and lay down properly on his bed. “What do you think they’re like? The frontlines?”
Erich shrugged. “Didn’t you just get off from the frontlines, Crowley?”
“They’re not worth it. Not one bit. Just a death sentence, really.” 
“Isn’t that the point of it? To die for your country?” asked Hans. Crowley looked at him and only saw curiosity in the young man’s dark eyes; a genuine interest in debate. 
“Could be. But then again, I’ve always chosen to save my own skin.” And I’ve chosen the angel. Only him. 
Hans hummed. “If I die, would it hurt?”
Erich sat up in his bed. “I’d imagine it does, don’t it?”
“You wouldn’t like it. What comes after I mean. Don’t get your hopes up,” said Crowley, pulling his hat further down his face. He imagined that judging by the quietness that the conversation was decidedly over. 
Still, Crowley didn’t make any move to remove his hat from his face. From under his darkened glasses, his eyes shut as he tried to chase the peacefulness and emptiness of sleep. After a while, Erich and (eventually) Hans drifted off to slumber. 
Come morning, Hans would be sent off to the frontlines and a new soldier would take his bed. Johann was a pleasant young man — the textbook definition of beautiful German youth — but there was the way in which he saluted his commanders, as if he’s putting his entire body behind every salute. Whenever a commanding officer would speak to him, he’d seem like he was hyperfocusing his entire attention to that one conversation, like nothing else mattered. They’d tell him to run at the daily exercises and he wouldn’t question anything; he’d just run until he’s told to stop. 
-----------------
Erich threw a small rock at Johann’s bed. “Hey schön, what’re you always smiling for?”
Johann lightly threw the rock back. “Piss off! Go to sleep.”
“If you’re looking for a medal, I don’t think the General would ever give you one. You talk too much for his liking.” Erich shook his head and continued to stack a pile of rocks next to his mattress. 
“What medal? You can’t get one without coming back from the frontlines.”
“Well, there’s nothing else worth smiling over. Not in this bloodbath.” 
Johann considered this for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Crowley, why do you think I smile?”
Crowley did his best to look uninterested, picking at his dirt-filled nails. “For my money, I’d say you’ve got a nice partner at home.” 
Johann laughed and nearly fell off his bed. “I wish!”
“Alright, now you’ve got to tell us,” said Erich, restarting his rock pile, this time adding in the extra challenge of making one vertical pile upwards. 
Johann put a finger to his lips and his eyes smiled at them conspiratorially. He beckoned both of them to lean closer. “I’ve got word from a friend in the third division that we’ve got those Russian bastards on the run at the Eastern front.” 
“Spectacular,” said Crowley mockingly, rolling his yellow eyes.
“The Deutschland is going to win this war and we can all go home, celebrated as war veterans who defended their country with pride.” Johann punched the air near Crowley, as if reaching for his arm. “Surely you’ve got your own nice German girl back home to impress, Crowley.” 
Johann was posed as he waited for any reaction, unbearingly proud of himself for divulging this information. Crowley scoffed. “Bullshit.” 
“I’m sorry?” asked Johann, clearly deflating. 
“That’s bullshit. If we were winning,” Crowley looked at Johann, “they wouldn’t need anymore soldiers at the frontlines, would they? But they keep transferring more and more, while less and less come back.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go on all you like with your terrible rumors. It doesn’t change what’s going on. Don’t slack off because you think it’s over. You’d just get yourself killed.”
“Didn’t—” Erich started, hesitantly, “Didn’t you sign up voluntarily, Crowley?”
Crowley frowned and lazily stretched in his bed. “Nah. I’ve got orders. You think anyone would want to sign up for this mess?”
“Well, why don’t you just leave then?” Johann asked with a defensive tone, tensing his shoulders. “Clearly you’ve got no interest in defending your country!”
Crowley smiled. Just by Johann’s normal behavior Crowley could tell the soldier was a ready model. The carefree attitude, the free spirited mentality, the “patriotism,” all of it was perfect. He just needed to push a couple of buttons. “I could just leave, can’t I? I mean, the easiest way to go is through the frontlines, though. Not sure I’d call that a pleasant departure.” 
Erich was eerily silent (though Crowley could definitely see the smile in his eyes) and Johann’s mouth had dropped. It was late in the night and while most soldiers were sleeping in the barracks, no one was in a deep slumber. Everyone could hear Crowley, and that was a dangerous thing to hear. 
Erich was the first to break the silence. “You’re right.”
“What?” Johann sputtered. Crowley craned his neck to stare at Erich. 
“Crowley’s right. Why do we need to die for a country that’s losing the war we’re dying for?” Erich was smiling, as if amused. Crowley couldn’t help but think that it’s not right for kids their age to be so at peace with death. It’s okay for him, he’s thousands of years old, but human kids with their whole life ahead of them? Out of the question. 
“Hold on a second! You volunteered too!” Johann pointed at Erich. 
“Yeah, because I’m stupid kid.” 
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well,” Erich shrugged, “You can join us, if you’d like.”
Johann blanched and Crowley eyed Erich questionably. “ Us? ”
“Yeah, you, me, and Johann here. Three men, not like they would miss us. I mean, they already replaced Hans. And don’t act like you’re not ready to leave too, Crowley.”
“Absolutely not!” Johann shouted. A couple of men besides them were further roused from their sleep. “We’d be a disgrace. Traitors! The Deutschland would fall to the hands of those French and English bastards!”
Erich shrugged again and laid back on his bed. “Do what you want, then. I bet you’d be glad if you end up in the frontlines. Hell, I bet you’d beg for the promotion . You can get yourself a nice shiny medal, if you really tried.” 
Johann growled but didn’t move. Instead, he rolled over, his back to them. 
Crowley spent the rest of the night trying to convince himself that this was just a simple temptation, that he was most definitely not trying to convince kids to commit treason, that Hell ordered him to do it. He was a demon, and demons don’t help pathetic human kids cheat death. That would be Nice. Crowley was not Nice. 
-----------------
It was a pleasant day, well into a graciously warm April, and Aziraphale mindlessly redressed a soldier’s wounds. The wounds themselves weren’t far too grave (not anymore) and so the task was simple enough after sufficient practice, going through the motions. Aziraphale hummed as his hands cleaned the rags, tying off loose ends. The soldier looked at him with curious brown eyes. 
“Why aren’t you out there? In the frontlines?” said the soldier. “I’ve seen you carry other men. You’re incredibly strong.” 
“Ah, well,” said Aziraphale as he cleaned the dirt off the soldier’s recovering leg, barely brushing over the sore wounds. The soldier hissed. Aziraphale continued, “I’ve never been much of a fighter, in all honesty.” Not lately. He was once. That was a long time ago. 
The soldier nodded. “That’s respectable. I think lots of boys here quickly realized they aren’t much of a fighter.” He chuckled darkly and pointed to his hurt leg. “Then they end up like me.”
Boys — that’s what they were. Simple teenagers expected not to run away or give in when a gun is pointed at their heads, held by a cruel hand ready to shoot, only because if they don’t then they’d end up with a bullet in their own head. Aziraphale remembered how simple warfare used to be, with honor and dignity and respect for the opposing side, split by a green battlefield where you can see clearly who it is you are shooting at. Even farther back, when knights would duel for the sake of their king or their honor, commending each other for the courage of carrying out a duel. Aziraphale remembered when the military was a respectable path of life, honored by the people and by the nobles. But down in the trenches, with the explosive crackling sounds of machine guns and tanks firing overhead, the boys weren’t anything but the same as the rats in the city sewers. All while the commanding officers refused to have their hands dirty, itching for a proper fight for the sake of violence. 
In retrospect, not much was different from the trenches than the army camps of old. The technology was different, sure, but the hierarchy was the same. It’s actually not too different from Hea--
Don’t.
Aziraphale patted the leg of the soldier he was working on and pretended like he didn’t hear anything. “All better. Do try to keep it clean, dear. God bless you.” 
The soldier nodded and limped away, back to the trenches, back to that insufferable inferno, back to hell. 
Aziraphale set a mental reminder to ask Crowley about that when he next sees him; the comparisons of Hell and the trenches (at least, about how the humans see it). He wondered if Crowley even knew what was going on. He had to, didn’t he? Hell loves it whenever humans go to war, especially on this scale. 
Then again, so did Heaven. But of course, Heaven had divine justifications; all in part of the Great Plan and thwarting the enemy, guiding humans down the path of good and virtue. 
Good. Keep that up. 
Believe it. 
Never forget it. 
The thought of Crowley troubled him. Oh, he did hope the demon was taking care of himself. Their last argument in St. James Park was not ideal, per say, and they haven’t spoken in decades, much less seen each other. 
A few hours later, at the crack of dawn, the sound of a whistle was heard and French soldiers were sent off in waves, running across no man’s land, hearts thumping louder than the gunshots. Some time after that, the noise died down and Aziraphale was sent to help collect the bodies from the waste and the debris. He managed to locate an older soldier (around his early thirties) whose right arm was stuck in barbed wire and his rotted feet had gotten sunken into the crater full of water. Aziraphale ran up to him and the startled soldier’s free hand went immediately to his bayonet. It was a miracle that the bullet missed and Aziraphale was able to drag the soldier back to the medical tents, heaving him up to the hospital cot and ripping off his uniform sleeves, exposing his infected arm. 
The wound wasn’t as deep as Aziraphale feared and some minutes later, the arm was cleaned thoroughly. The feet, however, were in such a terrible condition that Aziraphale might just have to recommend the soldier be taken off duty. 
(It never works. Aziraphale has tried before. But the French high command is dedicated to keeping as many soldiers on the battlefield as possible, not letting any get off easily. It reminded Aziraphale of— Don’t. )
  A nurse came by as Aziraphale finished up with the soldier. He looked around himself, at the crowded tent with no hospital cots to spare. Some men had to recover on the dirty mud of the floor and it pained Aziraphale to think that he could be doing more, more miracles, more something. 
But Orders are Orders. It will all work out for the best in the end. It has to. 
Right? 
-----------------
The night was beginning to set in as Aziraphale sat down at the entrance to his assigned tent, overlooking the sleeping soldiers. Most were sleeping, though some were busy in their own hobbies: writing, painting, some were even reciting plays to the people next to them. It made Aziraphale think of the orphanages he would visit occasionally, how pleasantly delighted he would be to usually find Crowley there, and the angel smiled fondly. The demon never talked about it but after millennia of always being able to find him near one, Aziraphale had his own suspicions. 
It was a quiet night so far, even with the muffled laughter where some men would recite lines from famous plays. The braver few would indulge in singing their favorite operas. Aziraphale made sure to place soldiers whom he knew had an affinity for instruments next to the singers. It warmed his heart to listen to the confident singers and the resourceful musicians (who more often than not recreated their preferred instruments with nearby objects or their voices). It made this whole mess almost seem normal, if only for a little bit, when the warfare outside has quieted down enough to forget where you are. 
There was some shuffling outside, however. Aziraphale could hear it but thought nothing of it. It was typical. The cover of night helped the soldiers do things they normally weren’t allowed to do, like sing or fool around. Be normal young men. If only for some fleeting minutes. 
Aziraphale smelled it before he noticed anything else. It was potent and irritating, stronger than anything he’s smelled before. He put down his book and took a breath in, trying to place the smell. Aziraphale gagged immediately, covering his mouth. It was most decidedly not something he would like to experience, thank you very much. Luckily, he didn’t need to breathe, and so he turned off his respiratory system. It was most likely some foul smell from the blood and the rotting flesh around the trenches. Maybe even mixed with gunpowder or the sweat of so many dirty people (who unfortunately haven’t been able to bathe properly in months ). 
Then the shouting started and the peaceful ambience of the medical tent vanished as if it never existed. Sleeping soldiers jolted awake and some tried to stand to attention before realizing the pain in their bodies was more overwhelming than awaiting orders. Aziraphale rushed out of his wooden chair and exited the tent with a hurrying pace. Red, blazing flares went up in certain spots along the long trenches, illuminating the green sky. 
No, that wasn’t right. The angel pushed his way to the nearby frontlines, searching— There! The sound of a cannon and somewhere down the line of the trench, a metal canister lodged itself between the ground and the sandbags of the trench barrier. Then, like a firework, it popped open, releasing nothing. Aziraphale stared at it, trying to make out any details in the extremely dim light and from such far a distance. But nothing came out of the canister. 
The officers closest to his stretch of the trenches shook their heads. The eldest one spoke up. “It was a malfunction of their cannons. Tell the men not to panic but to be ready if needed.” 
The officers dispersed and the eldest remained by Aziraphale’s side. He looked at the angel and sniffed. “What do you think of it?”
“Pardon?” asked Aziraphale. “Is it not a failed explosive?”
The officer scoffed. “That’s only to not raise more alarm than is needed, Sir Doctor. The Germans have been too resilient to send in failed explosives and not back it up with something more reliant.” 
“Then, and forgive me for asking, but why ask me? ” 
“Why ever not?” His pale eyes glared into Aziraphale’s. “I like having second opinions given to me. You are a respectable doctor. My men have said so.”
Aziraphale glanced back at the faraway canister. He frowned and tried to pull some miracle to be able to see it more clearly. It was a long moment before his blue eyes caught something unusual. “If you look closely, the area surrounding it is close to a green color.” 
The officer nodded. “Most strange. I will advise the men not to touch it then.” 
Then, more shouting erupted, more noise, the sound of help! down the opposite end of the trenches in the area. More emergency flares were sent up, accompanied by a faint green smoke, and Aziraphale paled. The officer must have noticed it too because his war-hardened eyes were full of fear. 
The men returning from that side of the trenches were coughing, doubling over as they gasped for breath. 
They would cough, and then they would fall, and they would cough again, liquid spilling out from their lungs until their bodies stilled. Paramedics arrived, would inspect the men, shake their heads to each other, before also having coughing fits. They too would promptly fall on the ground and convulse until they stilled. 
The officer was the first of the two of them to move. “Damn!” he shouted as he raced to the first soldier he could grab hold of. 
“Don’t let anyone get near the canisters!” he hollered to the nearby men. 
Aziraphale flew past all of them. The officer called after him (“Are you out of your damn mind!”) but to no avail. His attention went back to commanding the soldiers around him. In the dense haze of the green gas, the angel could see closely how it affected the soldiers: extremely intense coughing, spasms, faints. The more you inhaled, the more you coughed, but the more air you’d need, and so the cycle continued. Aziraphale was quick to carry as many men as he could, tripping over himself multiple times, until he could deposit them into the farthest medical tents. The nurses and other volunteer physicians set to work immediately and Aziraphale made his way back to the trenches. 
The sun was starting to rise when Aziraphale was able to sit down. He panted and ran his hands through his dirty hair, having spent many miracles to help where he could. The green fog was still dense by the time the sun fully rose and the once blue sky was a terrible green. Not so much because of the color but because there was no wind to disperse the gas somewhere else and so it all concentrated in the immediate area. The wet and damp atmosphere made it immensely worse, as the gas ate through and corroded the metal equipment in the trenches. 
The next day, Aziraphale was given the casualties report. More than a thousand dead in an area of a few square miles. And those were only the registered soldiers. The doctors and nurses that cared for the poisoned soldiers were not recorded yet and it filled Aziraphale with dread. 
The Germans did not start any attack for the rest of the week nor for the week after that. The eldest commanding officer was now a stout man with a full beard and stone-cold eyes. He did not meet the eyes of any of his subordinates nor of the doctors. He gave orders and expected someone to execute them. He was nothing like the officer before him. 
“Those bastards will get what they deserve,” he would say often, and those around him would nod solemnly. If he heard laughter or saw smiles, he would roar. If he heard music or chatter, he would threaten to put the offending person on the frontlines as shooting practice.
Aziraphale hated him. 
By then, it was well into a hot summer. Aziraphale was moved from the medical tents to the barracks, because the stout commanding officer decided that he looked strong enough to hold a gun and strong enough to face down the enemy. There were soldiers in Aziraphale’s barracks that he recognized from their stay in the medical tents. They looked at him and shook their heads in defeat, wondering how he ended up here and knowing the exact answer to why: the French needed more men. They were losing the war and they weren’t afraid to repurpose.
----------------- 
“Put some backbone into it, men!” shouted one of the officers. He shook his fist in the air and the soldiers were drenched in sweat as they banded together to lift the fallen tree. It was blocking the transport line and any more delay would make the trucks late as they rolled their way to the trenches. After the tree was finally moved, the soldiers clambered over to the back of the army trucks. Crowley huffed as he got himself comfortable on the bench. 
Hell was more rigorous with appearances this time around and Crowley could only guess why. The war has only been going on for about a year and already so many humans are dismissing belief in God, feeling as though She has abandoned them entirely. So many souls ripe for the picking. Temptations naturally come more easily, as was the logic of Hell, and thus Crowley did not need so many miracles, seeing as any display of the supernatural will equate to divine power in the eyes of the humans. 
It was about the most creative thing that the Dark Council has ever come up with, like they were finally taking Crowley up on his advice of getting an imagination. And so, they’d sent him to ensure that the most amount of destruction was made possible, predicting that with Germany’s industrialization, if the Germans were to be only a little more ahead, then the vengeful nature of France and the imperial attitudes of England and Russia would maximize the tragedy. 
As much as Crowley hated to admit it, it was working so far, and Hell was even keeping a closer eye on him. They’d even interrupted his depressive nap, claiming he’s done enough slothing about, and ordering him to fulfill his new mission with the utmost efficiency. 
Crowley wondered if Aziraphale was caught up in this bloody war as well. He probably was; Heaven loved it when humans went to war. He tried to imagine Aziraphale with firearms and shuddered, feeling suddenly fearful of the soft angel he’s known for millennia. A sword was one thing, but a gun? Divine justice to the extreme, enough to make any demon cower in fear.
“—about that, Crowley?” asked Erich, snapping the demon out of his thoughts. 
“What?” said the demon elegantly.
“The gas,” said Johann, as if that explained anything. “They just deployed it on the Western front. I think it’s a coward’s weapon. You don’t even face your opponent! And what’s it even going to do to the Allies? Absolutely nothing, I tell you.”
“I think it’s only good enough to shake up the Allies. But we aren’t any closer to going home.” Erich tapped the butt of his gun on the floor of the truck, fiddling with it. 
“Sure. Yeah. Gas.” Crowley crossed his arms and laid his back against the wall of the truck. He crossed his leg over the other and fixed his gaze on the disappearing road as the truck carried on. 
“You know,” said Johann in that same conspiratorial voice, “I heard that the French have an angel on their side. He came out completely unaffected by the gas.”
Crowley sat up in interest.
Erich groaned in annoyance. “An angel? As if. We wouldn’t be here if God was actually benevolent. We’re all God-fearing Christians. Why do we need to die like this?” 
Johann scoffed. “Again with that, Erich?”
Erich opened his mouth to retort but Crowley put a hand on his shoulder and turned to Johann. He’s a violent boy. Exploit that. “If you want to argue, wait until we’re out of this truck. You’ll have more space for a proper fight.”
Johann snorted. “I always think you’re too old for this job, Crowley. You sound like my father.” 
“What, are you scared of a little scuffle?” Erich smiled. 
“N-No!” Johann sputtered. “I just think that I should save my energy for some pathetic Allied bastard. Be able to enjoy it with all my strength at the ready.” 
Erich made a disgusted face and gave Crowley a side glance. Crowley shook his head. “Very honorable,” he said with as much sarcasm as the demon could muster. 
“Well, it’s what they deserve for trying to ignore Germany and her might. They won’t ignore us after this.”
“Is that what they tell you?” Crowley asked, in absolute pure disbelief. He shouldn’t be surprised, however, especially coming from Johann. 
“Is it not true, oh wise old man?” 
“Definitely not,” said Erich. “Do you even read the news?”
“The news from where? English papers and their lies?”
“ German papers and their reports. Do you even know what happened last summer? Or are you just that thick?” 
Johann’s argument was interrupted by the truck lurching to a stop and the soldiers next to the trio filtering out. They’ve arrived at the newly built trench with a restock of supplies for the Eastern front. Johann got out first, Erich stuck his middle finger at him, and Crowley rolled his eyes. Honestly, Johann was too easy of a Temptation and Crowley hasn’t even done anything yet. 
The trucks were unloaded quickly. While the other soldiers, including Johann, went ahead, Erich grabbed Crowley by his sleeve and pulled him back. 
“What do you want?” hissed Crowley. 
“We could leave. Right now.” Erich had a determined look in his eyes.
“Are you insane?” The poor boy would be shot immediately. At least he’d go quickly. Still, Crowley was not up to watch kids die. 
“Come on! You want to leave too!”
“They’ll kill you,” Crowley said with a growl, yanking his arm free from Erich’s grasp. 
“We’d die anyways if we stay.” 
Crowley sighed and slung his gun around his shoulder, resting it on his back. 
-----------------
“Shoot those bastards down!”
“We’re on our last bullets!”
“Crowley, look out!”
“Run!”
. . . 
“It was him! It was all him! He made us do it! He’s the devil!”
“Shut it!”
“Please, Johann-!”
“ Shut it! Kill this one too.”
“But-!”
“Do you traitors have anything to say for yourselves?” 
“...go to hell.”
. . . 
“What shall we do with the Brit?”
“Leave him here. The rats will have him soon enough. The general requested us on the Eastern front.”
-----------------
“And why would saving the lives of these humans guarantee souls for our Master, demon Crowley?”
“Well, you’ve got all these humans ignoring orders, rebelling, ya know? And you’ve got 50 million people pissed off at their leader. They’re willing to do anything at this point. And it’s not really saving their lives, innit? We’d have them later in their lifespans.”
“...I see. Then you have your orders, Crowley. We will send a group of other demons to cover all of Europe.”
“...how many demons?”
“Does it matter? Enough to claim all of humanity’s souls.” 
“Right. Okay. Yeah. Teamwork. Wahoo.” 
-----------------
“Hail Satan,” greeted the demons with toothy smiles. 
Crowley strolled up to them and gave a half wave. “Right, Satan. Er, what do you want?”
“To coordinate. Beelzebub wishes a smooth victory for Hell,” said the one with a head full of gray horns instead of hair.
“Right. Well, I’m pretty good here— er, bad— well, you get it.” Crowley stuffed his hands into the pockets of his uniform jacket. “You can do as you please. I’ve got this front covered.”
One of the demons frowned with what was left of their rotten, misshapen face. They sniffed the air and growled. “I smell humans.”
Another demon, much shorter, jumped up to hit their companion over the head. “We’re on Earth, moron. Of course there’s bloody humans!”
“No, not like that.” They thought for a moment and cringed, scowling. “I smell virtuous humans. Untainted by us.” 
“Listen, I’ve already said I’ve got it under control here. You can move along and go tempt some other poor sods—”
“Shut it, Crawly—”
“ Crowley. ”
“—you’ve got explaining. Why are there good humans here? Where are they?”
Crowley shifted on his feet slightly. Just a few miles away, back towards the south, along a path he had hiked along, was a farm that had been abandoned at some point in the war. The family had left in a hurry when the war came their way and so the animals and some commodities were still there. Lounging just outside the main barn were Erich and his friends, gathered around a small fire and looking up at the unpolluted, untouched night sky. 
Crowley gritted his teeth. “It’s a bit of a harder job than usual.”
The short demon jumped up repeatedly to reach Crowley’s eye level. “Let us introduce ourselves then!” 
“Surely a demon would have no reason to object to the help of other denizens of Hell?” said the very first demon with his head of horns. It smirked cruelly. There were multiple reasons to object to the help of other demons. Many of which were fairly obvious, thought Crowley, and he was glad once again for the protection his glasses gave him as he tried for a pleasant smile. 
“Oh, they’re already on the brink. It won’t be too long for them to give in.” His hands twitched in his pockets. “Got them to rebel, desert, see? Highest sin: disobedience. Especially in these times.” 
The demon with hardly a face grunted, the short demon eyed the red-head suspiciously, and the horn-headed seemed satisfied with Crowley’s answer. “Very well.”
“Eh?”
“Carry on, Serpent of Eden,” said the demon mockingly. “But we’ll be here, in case you find it too hard to handle.”
The other two demons seemed to want to protest, eyes wide, but the horn-headed demon grabbed both of them and dragged them away, finally vanishing into the maze of branches and bushes beyond. 
Crowley swallowed. “Right. That was a thing.” 
He turned back in the direction of the farm. Upon arrival, he found the soldiers exactly where he left them, even if half of them were asleep or drowsy. Erich was one of the few still wide awake. He grinned at Crowley as the demon sat down next to him. 
“Any news to report, Captain?” said another soldier.
Crowley was not a captain but the young man seemed intent on calling him as such. In fact, most of the soldiers here either called him “sir” or “captain.” The few who called him Crowley were the ones he respected the most. 
“Ngh,” answered Crowley. “Just the occasional rabbit. More snow. Nothing much.”
Erich laughed. “Did you even try to patrol?”
Crowley smacked him in the arm. “If all of you end up dead, so do I. Not patrolling seems a bit of a conflict of interest, innit?”
The other soldiers hummed in agreement. Some even laughed as well. Erich just laughed harder. One particular soldier just glared at Crowley. The demon racked his brain for a name — nothing came up. That boy was more quiet than the rest and he always seemed reluctant to have joined their group. Back in the trenches, he was almost left behind while the group joined Erich and he had to run to catch up to them. 
After a while, as the fire died down, most of the soldiers had drifted off to sleep. Erich was just about ready to turn in for the night, standing up to claim a spot inside the warm barn with the itchy hay. It was a harsh winter but with what all of these boys had seen in the trenches, it wasn’t so bad. It just took some getting used to. There were some sheep in the fields of the farm as well. One of the soldiers used to watch his mother knit and another used to live on a farm, although he only ever worked with the pigs. Together, they had managed to strip the sheep of some of their wool and make something that could count as blankets for the rest of the group. 
Crowley stayed near the dying fire, acting as guard. He tucked his knees in and focused his eyes into the dark forest surrounding them. That quiet boy was staring at him with a blank face. It would be unnerving if Crowley wasn’t so used to it already.
Only a mere year into the war and already there were thousands — if not millions — dead, most on the Allied side only because the Centrals decided to play defensive and it seemed to be working. No one was prepared for this though, but it was coming, and Crowley hated that. That’s the thing with free will: humans do this to themselves. Crowley usually just has to open certain doors and they’ll walk right through. Same with angels, in a way. They hold the door open but the path is troublesome and Heaven likes to pride itself in the journey to virtue instead of the virtue itself. In reality, though, Blessings and Temptations are just two sides of the same coin. Free will is the one who flips it and decides which no matter what the result was. 
At some point, deep into the night, the fire had died out. Crowley still refused to rest and he could already see just a sliver of sunlight peak over the dark horizon. But it was also the middle of winter and while the fire’s light would be useless in a few hours, its warmth was still valuable. Thus, Crowley got up to search for more wood.
Unfortunately for him, good branches for the fire were further into the forest. The big ones high in the trees were a bit difficult to break off and the ones on the forest floor were hidden by a fresh layer of glistening snow, not to mention wet as well. Frowning, Crowley resolved to snap off the smaller branches: the ones closer to the ground and the ones on the very ends of the bigger ones. Not too great to keep a fire going but okay enough for kindle, if only for a little while. Maybe he could use a miracle to keep the flames going more than they should. Shouldn’t be too big a miracle that Hell would notice, right? Damn their new restrictions for this mission.
Crowley reached towards a small tree, on the edge of a cliff. He stepped around it a bit, mindful of the sudden drop behind him as he found footing. His arms were full of dry branches and he quickly snapped another one off the tree. He stepped again, in the fresh snow this time, then—
The ground gave out from under him. 
Crowley fell. 
-----------------
Aziraphale always seemed to find looking at his surroundings much more stimulating than focusing on the monotonous marching of soldiers, even if he was marching too. That being said, it’s not like his surroundings were much more interesting. The open valley was the same landscape they’ve been in for the past week and other than some small game here and there, not much would happen. The most comfort they’d had was a small farmhouse they had spent part of the night in and had just left that early morning. The soldiers’ morale was at an all time low as well; anyone could tell you that. The winter was depressing and long and far too cold and Aziraphale had no idea what the actual status of the war was—
Wait. What the heavens was that? 
Something fell from the valley walls around them. Aziraphale and the other soldiers near the back stopped and turned. A few of them already armed their guns, pointing in that general direction. But nothing moved so neither did they, except for Aziraphale, unarmed due to his position, who cautiously approached the area. And imagine his surprise when he saw a lanky figure with fiery red hair, stilled, deep in the snow. 
“What is it, doctor?” one of the soldiers called, slinging his gun over his arm. 
“Nothing, just a rabbit,” Aziraphale called back. “Nothing to worry about.”
The soldier nodded and signaled to the others to resume their marching. Aziraphale waved his hand quickly — a simple miracle to force the soldiers’ indifference — and got to work getting Crowley somewhere else. The farmhouse in the valley wasn’t too far and frankly, Crowley looked like he was in no condition to get there by himself.
-----------------
“What the hell are you doing, Aziraphale?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Crowley? It’s not exactly very discreet.” Aziraphale gently wrapped Crowley’s leg with gauze. He said sternly, “Stay still.” 
Crowley rolled his eyes and growled. “Thought you had other people to fraternize with.”
“I still refuse to give you a suicide pill. I thought I made that clear half a century ago.” The angel propped a wooden board against Crowley’s leg and began tying the two together. 
“That’s not—!” Crowley winced when Aziraphale tied his leg harsher than he probably should’ve. “Fine. Have it your way then.” 
Crowley settled himself against a bundle of hay near the back wall. The splint was expertly made. After a moment, he looked at Aziraphale’s blue uniform, the red cross on the angel’s sleeve, and asked, “Why France?”
“Heaven’s instructions. They had caught me in the middle of lunch. Give me your arm. Why Germany?”
The demon extended his mangled left arm as best as he could. Aziraphale doused it with clean water and started wrapping it in gauze. Crowley said, “Hell’s orders. They caught me in the middle of my nap. Didn’t even know what was going on ‘til I walked out of Hell in a uniform.” 
“Seems as though we are canceling each other out,” said the angel, teasingly. 
Crowley didn’t smile. “Not this time, angel.”
Aziraphale stopped dressing the rest of Crowley’s wounds and sat down on the hay beside him, looking at him intently. “What happened, Crowley?”
The demon looked away.
-----------------
Crowley buried his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and wrapped himself around his soft angel. They were comfortably in bed and the world was, gratefully, not destroyed. Aziraphale held him in his strong arms, one hand stroking gently through the demon’s fire hair, murmuring sweet nothings. At one point, Aziraphale spoke up, as a thought occurred to him. “Dear? “Hm?”
“Do you ever wonder about your platoon’s families? From the Great War?”
Crowley squeezed him a little harder, sleep still in his voice. “‘Ey weren’t m’ platoon, angel, they were m’ friends. Far as I know, their families had the recession to worry about. No time for grieving.”
“Yes, but…”
Crowley shifted. “What’s wrong, angel? Talk to me.”
Aziraphale pulled his lips together and hummed in thought. “I was wondering… what with the relative life-spans of humans… and the fright we had at the beginning of the 20th century…”
Crowley pulled a face. “Oh, don’t start with this again, angel.”
“No, no, my dear. It’s not that. Though that discussion was certainly interesting—”
“You mean depressing.”
“—I was just wondering how they, the humans, put such blind trust in each other. We’ve been friends for six thousand years, but they only get a maximum of about a hundred. It’s so short in comparison.”
Crowley nodded, trying blinking the sleep in his tired eyes away as Aziraphale continued to run his hand through his hair. “It’s a miracle, innit?”
“It’s certainly heartwarming. I must say, they truly had it in the 1960s. Do you remember the 1960s, dear?”
“Bright as day, angel.”
“Oh, that was a terrible time. So much fighting, like a repeated cycle. But they made it out, to your night canvas.”
Crowley smiled fondly. “I remember your face when I forced you to sit through the recording of the moon landing. Do you really mean to tell me you hadn’t used a telly yet before that?”
“Oh, hush you fiend.” A moment passed in comfortable silence. “They really do love each other, don’t they, my dear? Like a family.”
“Pretty big family. Billions of distant cousins.”
Aziraphale smiled. “I’m very glad this all isn’t, how did you put it, ‘a pile of boiling goo?’”
“A big messy ball of boiling goo.”
“Yes, that.” 
Crowley yawned. “A big soft pillow too. G’night, angel.”
“Good night, my beloved.” 
Because even with all its flaws, humanity is not a species or a grand family; it’s a celebration of life and kindness. Because even in the end-that-wasn’t, through the sheer kindness of an 11-year-old boy with his dog and his friends, the earth continued to spin. Because even though terrible things have happened, whole cities destroyed, whole continents mercilessly bombed, whole lives with so much future potential lost, life finds a way. And an angel and a demon can stand testimony for it, because they’ve seen it all, through the good and the bad. And that’s beautiful, in its own complicated way. The unsung heroes of everyday life that you don’t notice, the newborn crying as their mother holds them tight to her chest and promises to protect them forever, the friend you lost but will never forget; they’re all beautiful. 
They’re all worth it. 
And that’s beautiful.
-----------------
More Author's Notes:
If this story made no sense, just pretend it did. I also initially wrote this during quarantine so do with that information what you will.
Historical notes: 1. The year 1915 was the year with the most fighting on the Western Front. It was also the deadliest year for the French forces, with 349,000 deaths.
2. In 1915, the Germans were also focusing on the Eastern front with Russia. On April 22 of that same year, the Germans unleashed chlorine gas on the Western front but that was the only battle they instigated that year, as an experiment for the gas. However, they didn’t think the gas would be effective at all so this allotted nothing other than further death and destruction.
3. The MHS (Military Health Services) was made up of volunteer doctors and nurses willing to put their life on the line to set up hospitals and medical tents wherever the fighting went. However, they were constantly overwhelmed with the amount of deaths per day on either side of the fighting. It was apparently common for civilians to see dozens of hospital trains and hundreds of ambulances pass through cities on the daily. According to German writer Leonhard Frank, these were a representation of the war as they quite literally brought home the horrors of the trenches, regardless of the side.
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minniefights · 1 year ago
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Update #10 - 2 weeks in the ICU
We’re marking our 2nd week in the ICU. Nothing much has changed since my last update; the intubation has already been removed and Mom’s breathing has been fairing well and stable, however her Blood Pressure has not really normalized yet. It still drops to a critical level and that’s what keeps us here in the ICU. As soon her BP gets better then we can be moved to a private room.
Praying Unceasingly
It’s peaceful and quiet here in our room. What very much helps to be so is our prayers throughout the day. We usually start the day with our morning prayer time with worship and morning meditation around 8AM. At 11 AM and 5PM, when my uncle (priest) visits, we pray the Liturgy of the hours. And finally, we do our night prayers, which consists of the “Stay with Me” Prayer by Padre Pio, Prayer to St Michael, Intercessions, Psalm 4, Psalm 91 and Song of Simeon. I know that so many people are also prayer for us, so thank you so so much for storming the heavens!
Other “prayers” are in the form of asking God for mercy. When the day is long and tiring, when Mom is in so much pain, when we see the partial bill, when after weeks of medication some of her lab results just doesn’t seem to normalize yet, when all we could muster is a “Lord, have mercy” I believe that is prayer too. Going about the daily chores and necessities, that too is worship.
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Chemotherapy Plans
The Hematologist is already drafting on her chemotherapy plan. She earlier mentioned that the treatment will be aggressive. However, she won’t be able to perform it until her infection (Pneumonia) completely subsides or her BP normalizes. The meds for chemo cannot be purchased here in Iligan. I had to order it from Manila, so upon the doctor’s order, I have already purchased a month-long worth of chemo meds (injectables and oral). The doctor also mentioned that meds could also be purchased at a cheaper rate in India. Lucky us, some friends are traveling from India to the Philippines for a conference this month. And so I was able to purchase ahead of time, 4-months worth of medicines at 60% cheaper price. I’m acting in faith to believe Mom will live long enough to undergo these treatments (and by God’s grace get better!). As per chemo meds, we’re covered up until Mid-March. But she also has a ton of other meds on the side, of which I shall think about later on.
ICU Stories
In the ICU, there are so many heartbreaking patient’s stories. Just today, 2 patients have passed away, may the Lord grant them eternal rest. My Mom’s room, however, is situated in a separated area with walls, so we’re a bit isolated from the other patients. So Mom is asleep and unbothered most of the time.
But there are also so many stories hope in these walls. One story which stood out to me is this 10 yr old girl who met an accident and is now in coma for more than 2 weeks. Yet whenever I could take a glimpse at the hope of her family, I am so encouraged. They aren’t giving up on her even if she had 1% chance to live, though she had to be transferred to a public hospital that could lessen the cost for her family to keep her alive. But I could imagine, if only that girl would have moved only a finger, they would have rejoiced so much! Yet even now, that she’s still asleep, with no significant chances to be awake, her family still keeps the faith and still hopes and against hope.
How much more faith and hope do we have for my Mom, who has now been extubated, now she can talk (but very minimally still), eat a bit of soft foods, and drink small amounts of liquid? She is able to communicate, pray and be aware of her surroundings! All the more, our hope is in the Lord who created heaven and earth, and in whose hands our lives are held. Let His will be done.
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jdgo51 · 1 year ago
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DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR DECEMBER 9, 2023
God’s Creation
By Lorraine Baldus (Michigan, USA)
READ GENESIS 1:1-13
"The heavens and the earth and all who live in them were completed."
GENESIS 2:1 (CEB)
"A few years ago my sister and I took a trip to Alaska. The glory of God’s creation was everywhere — the blue ocean, majestic snow-capped mountains, sparkling glaciers, bald eagles, grizzly bears, moose, seals, otters, and whales, just to name a few examples. I couldn’t help but stand in awe, trying to take it all in. I felt lucky to have 10 days to enjoy all this beauty.
When I returned home, I realized I still had the blessing of God’s creation all around me. There are no mountains, glaciers, or oceans where I live, and no whales, grizzly bears, moose, or seals to be seen. However, there are tall maple trees, breathtaking flowering bushes, chirping birds, and squirrels scattering about. We have sunshine and blue sky as well as thunderstorms and blizzards. I am able to enjoy the beauty of four distinct seasons each year.
No matter where we are, God’s creation is all around us. Sometimes we take it all for granted. We forget to spend time truly seeing what’s right in front of us. We don’t have to go to new places to be amazed by God’s creation. Look around; beauty surrounds us every day." God's creation is everywhere. No travel is needed to see some of it. It varies from one part of the country to another. Appreciate the beauty that is around you and if you have an opportunity to see other places, then do so.
TODAY'S PRAYER
"Creator God, help us not to take your creation for granted. Remind us that our world would not exist without your handiwork. May we spend time enjoying the beauty and never forget to thank you for it." Amen.
Genesis 1:1-13
"1 When God began to create the heavens and the earth 2 the earth was without shape or form, it was dark over the deep sea, and God’s wind swept over the waters 3 God said, “Let there be light.” And so light appeared. 4 God saw how good the light was. God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God named the light Day and the darkness Night. There was evening and there was morning: the first day. 6 God said, “Let there be a dome in the middle of the waters to separate the waters from each other.” 7 God made the dome and separated the waters under the dome from the waters above the dome. And it happened in that way. 8 God named the dome Sky. There was evening and there was morning: the second day. 9 God said, “Let the waters under the sky come together into one place so that the dry land can appear.” And that’s what happened. 10 God named the dry land Earth, and he named the gathered waters Seas. God saw how good it was. 11 God said, “Let the earth grow plant life: plants yielding seeds and fruit trees bearing fruit with seeds inside it, each according to its kind throughout the earth.” And that’s what happened. 12 The earth produced plant life: plants yielding seeds, each according to its kind, and trees bearing fruit with seeds inside it, each according to its kind. God saw how good it was. 13 There was evening and there was morning: the third day." God was creating this magical world one day at a time as He separated things into night/day, land/sea and so forth. The meticulous care shows in the result of what we now live among. Blessings came from God even in the beginning. Joe
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sarahscribbles · 3 years ago
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Stay Here One More Time
Summary: On the anniversary of the Battle of New York, Loki discovers he has someone on his side.
AN: This isn’t very action packed or even very exciting but I’d like to make a slow burn collection of this Loki x reader that starts with this conversation. :)
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The Battle of New York had been one of the defining moments of your life. How could it not be? You hadn’t been an Avenger back then, but you felt as though you’d experienced the carnage firsthand watching it on your TV. While you were lucky in that no one you loved had died that day, a lot of your friends hadn’t been and had lost loved ones or knew people who hadn’t been the same since. 
Your heart had been in your mouth as you’d watched the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes, rally to save New York from that demented maniac. 
Loki of Asgard. 
The news had plastered his face across the screen and you’d wanted to rip the smug smirk off his face as he’d sauntered around the roof of Stark Tower. He was the cause of the complete carnage surrounding you, he was the reason people were running fearing for their life, and you hated him for it. 
Beyond anything else you prided yourself on your compassion, empathy and sympathy for others. The way this man displayed no ounce of those as he aimed to destroy your world made you want to ram a dagger through his heart or put a bullet in his brain. 
The man’s face had been seared into your memory. Heaven help him if he ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with you.
It was anger and a desire for vengeance that prompted you to join the Avengers. You were no Black Widow, but you could pack a punch. You felt at home with the team, all of whom were driven by rage almost as much as you were. You trained and trained until even Thor was commenting on your strength. 
“Not nearly as strong as me, but very impressive, my dear lady!” He’d said with a wink, making you beam with pride. 
You had settled into a familiar routine within the compound, having long ago proving yourself worthy of being called an Avenger. Truth be told, you’d all but forgotten about your motivation for seeking out the moniker, until Loki arrived at the compound one random month. 
You were almost apoplectic with rage. 
“Did you hit your head? Accidentally sniff some fumes down in that lab?” You raged at Tony in the kitchen. “Because I know there has to be some tragic accident behind letting that nutcase in here!” 
Tony had only taken a sip of his coffee. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but am I picking up some hostility towards Reindeer Games? That lovable little scamp?” 
You shoved him hard. “Tony, seriously? What is he doing here? Last time he was hell bent on killing us all.” 
“Look, kid,” he sighed, “I don’t want him here anymore than you do. There’s only room for one big ego in this compound and it’s mine, but I’m doing Thor a favour, ok? We’re stuck with him.” 
You quietly seethed. This man was a psycho and yet you were expected to share your space with him? You decided you would go out of your way to make him as uncomfortable as possible. 
For the most part it seemed to work. You rarely saw Loki throughout the compound, as it appeared he kept mostly to his own space. You felt like you could relax. The less you saw of him the easier it was to forget that he was actually here, or that he even existed at all.
At least it was until Wanda plopped down beside you in the living area one night, looking decidedly out of sorts. 
“What’s up, buttercup?”  You asked, your eyes still half on the TV screen in front of you. 
She fidgeted in the chair beside you, almost as if she was in two minds about even opening her mouth. 
“It’s Loki,” she said eventually.
Immediately, you shut the TV off.  “What’s he done to you?” You asked, your voice fierce. So help him if he had done anything to Wanda. You’d make sure he’d suffer for it. 
Wanda’s eyes went wide. “No! No, he hasn’t done anything.” She looked at you with eyes that were full of pain. “He hasn’t done anything.” She said again quietly. 
You listened as she recounted everything she’d learned about Loki, things you could be sure she hadn’t learned through simply talking to him, and you felt your heart break a little. 
Death, torture, manipulation, controlled. 
Thanos.
Loki had experienced more pain in his life than anyone would deem fair. No wonder he’d decided to hide himself away. While everyone else on the team had had their pain recognised and mollified, there had been no attempt to soothe any of his scars. Hadn’t everyone in the compound been an enemy of the Avengers at one point? You were sure as hell Natasha hadn’t always been so buddy buddy with the team. Yet Loki was the only one still treated as though he were a monster. Regret at how you’d treated him hit you all at once. 
“Jesus, Wanda.” You rubbed your hands over your face. “I feel terrible. I bet all that guy needs is a hug.” 
“We’ve all been so horrible to him,” Wanda practically whispered. She was so empathetic towards others you could almost feel how it tore her up. 
You tried not to think of all the times Tony or Steve had made some comment in front of Loki and the briefest flash of hurt you’d detected on his face, or all the times you’d joined in laughing at some joke at his expense. For someone who thought of themselves as compassionate you really had been a bitch to Loki. 
In the wake of your conversation with Wanda you pledged to be a lot warmer towards Loki. If you had been the one being mind controlled and tortured by some mad titan you knew the thing you’d want most was comfort and reassurance, and so you tried to offer it to him as best you could. You smiled at him when you saw him around the compound, you didn’t leave the room if he happened to enter, and you made sure to withdraw from any conversation that was intended to poke fun at him. You hoped he would pick up that someone was on his side. 
The rest of the team, however, made no attempt to change their behaviour, and when the anniversary of the Battle of New York rolled around again, you had to leave the compound for a walk due to how cold the atmosphere was towards Loki. You hoped Thor at least would come to his defence. 
You had thought that, if Wanda had told them everything she had told you, then the rest of the team would warm towards him. Although Barton had been a “victim” of Loki’s, you had hoped that their shared experience of being made to do awful things against their will would at least bring him on side, but Barton seemed to be giving him a wider berth than usual. 
As you walked through Manhattan, the late spring sun warming your skin, you thought about how you could possibly let Loki know that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t an easy person to get close to, physically or emotionally, but you felt as though you had to make up for the horrible way you had treated him in the past, and to balance out the hostility being directed by everyone else. 
As it turned out, the opportunity presented itself to you later that evening.
When you returned you’d expected to find the compound in darkness, but strangely, the living area wasn’t deserted as you’d expected. 
You saw Loki sitting in one of the easy chairs with a book in his lap, his face half illuminated by the floor lamp by his side. You knew he knew you were there, of course he knew you were there, but he made no move to suggest that he did. Despite his regal, aloof outer appearance you couldn’t help but think that he looked...lonely. 
You decided to make some tea in the kitchen to give him a chance to slink away if he wanted, but when you turned around he was still there. Tea in hand you padded across the kitchen to the living area, still expecting him to get up and leave when he saw you approach. 
He didn’t move. 
“Mind if I join ya?” You asked cheerily, nodding towards the empty sofa beside him. 
“Do as you wish.” He replied simply, never taking his gaze from the book. 
You curled yourself into the sofa and wrapped your hands around your mug. You were content to simply sit and gaze out at Manhattan far ahead in the distance for a while. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that one day you’d be living in the Avengers compound, drinking tea while a Norse god sat reading beside you. Sometimes it felt like a crack fueled daydream. 
“Is it good?” You broke the silence, turning your head to look at Loki. “Your book?” 
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “It suffices for entertainment, though your Midgardian writers leave much to be improved.” 
You blew over the top of your tea. “I don’t know. I mean, have you read Fifty Shades?” You deadpanned, taking a sip of tea to keep your face straight. Loki finally turned his head to face you, but his face was unreadable.
“It’s probably one of the greatest literary masterpieces to come from Earth in the past few decades. You should read it sometime,” you continued, taking great pleasure in teasing the God of Mischief. A few years ago you wouldn’t even have considered sharing the living area with him. How glad you were that things had changed.
Loki glared at you for a second before ultimately turning back to his book. Clearly you weren’t interesting enough to spar with. 
“So, what’s got you up so late? Bed bugs?” You kept talking while reaching for the remote to switch the TV on and flip through the channels. 
Before you had the chance to click to the menu, however, Loki’s face was blown up on the screen before you. It wasn’t the same Loki that sat beside you now, it was a Loki possessed by a source from another world being forced to do things against his will at the bidding of a mad titan.
You quickly shut off the TV and turned to look at Loki. His gaze was fixed on the blank screen and his hands were balled into fists. If you weren’t mistaken, you caught the briefest glance of pain across his face. 
“Loki, I…” You started, suddenly at a loss as to what to say. You expected him to storm out and seek refuge in his room, but he remained sitting beside you, the mask coming down over his features once again. 
“You all still see me as a monster. How reassuring.” His voice was steady, but the hint of bitterness to his words was impossible to miss. 
You felt your heart break for him a little. It seemed that no matter how much Loki tried to show that he’d changed, people still saw him as a deranged murderer. If only he knew…
“I don’t.” You said quietly before you lost your nerve. “I don’t think you’re a monster, Loki.” 
There. You’d said it. The thing you’d wanted to say to him for the past few months. Since your conversation with Wanda you’d seen Loki in a new light and you found that you actually liked him. You liked the grudging protectiveness he showed towards Thor, the witty remarks during their verbal sparring, and his dry sense of humour that always made you laugh, even if he never saw. 
You realised that he was staring at you, his face a mixture of disbelief and...something else you couldn’t figure out.
“Am I truly to believe you don’t think like the rest of them?” He asked, the skepticism clear in his voice. When was the last time someone had told him he wasn’t a monster?
“I don’t,” you repeated. “I did at the start.” You admitted a second later with a sigh. “I was angry like the rest of them and couldn’t forgive you for what you’d done, but I know you’re not completely to blame.” 
“And what could you possibly mean by that?” He was trying to sound cold, you knew that, but you could hear the barest hint of hope in his voice, hope that someone was finally seeing the truth of what had driven him to do what he did. 
You looked directly at him. “Wanda found out what happened,” you said, and he scoffed. “She didn’t do it with bad intentions, she just wanted to understand,” you added quickly, not wanting to make him angry. 
He replied with a humourless laugh. “Understand? People have wanted to do many things to me, but understand me hasn’t been one of them.”
“You don’t know Wanda very well,” you replied. “Loki, what Thanos did to you was complete evil. He tortured you, didn’t he?” You asked softly. Loki cringed as if the mere memory of the mad titan was enough to physically pain him. 
His reaction broke your heart. In the span of just a few months you had gone from wanting to run him through with a knife to wanting to soothe his scars. 
“Well, I know that if I had been tortured and mind controlled by some mad alien all I would want is comfort and reassurance, not treated like a villain for something outside my control.” Your voice held a little more force, but you needed him to believe you. You needed him to know that someone still believed in him.
Loki let out a breath and you swore you saw him deflate a little in front of you. “I never wanted to hurt anyone,” he said so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. 
Uncurling yourself from the sofa, you leaned forward so you were as close to him as you could get without making him uncomfortable. “I believe you. I don’t think you’re a bad person, Loki. I think you’re a person who bad things have happened to and I wish the rest of the team saw it like that too.” 
He scoffed again, as if he knew the chances of that happening were slim. 
“But until they do,” you carried on, “I want you to know that I’m on your side, and if you ever need to talk or need a friend you can come to me.” 
He didn’t respond, so, having finished your tea and realising that he probably needed some time to process, you decided to leave him be. You hoped he knew how sincerely you had meant everything you just said.
However, as you reached the hallway that led to the private wing of the compound, you heard him call out your name. 
“Thank you.” He said simply. “I appreciate y... it more than you know.” 
You nodded in response. “You’re not a bad person, Loki.” You repeated, needing him to hear it again. 
You swore you saw him smile.
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planetdream · 3 years ago
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࿓ — txt as words of affirmation <3
this post contains: fluff ! non-sexual praises (or make them sexual idc)
💌 this one is sorta in a similar yet different style to the previous 'txt as [love language]' posts. but it was really fun to write !! it's kinda just the boys telling u how much they love u ! the next and final one will be txt as giving gifts!
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☁️ choi yeonjun
sends you texts throughout the day reminding you to eat, take care of yourself and rest. will never let a day go by where you don't know that he loves you and is here for you. loves loves loves to praise you for literally anything that you do. you wake up? you're getting praised. aced that test or got that job? it's praise time baby. his favorite praises are:
"you're so pretty" often comes in different variants: "my pretty baby" and "you're always so pretty for me" etc
"aa you did so well/good"
"i'm so proud of you."
yeonjun is always so proud of you and your accomplishments, just as you are for his. any way that he can remind you how much he loves you and how much you're worth (to both him and yourself), he will.
☁️ choi soobin
places post-it notes around your apartment with cute phrases reminding you about how much he loves you, and how you can do anything. like i said, he never wants that smile of yours to fade, even when he's not around. reminds you about how much of a good person you are and how much you've accomplished, especially when things in life get tough.
"i'm so grateful for you" and "i'm so lucky to have you"
"didn't know i could love you more than i already do but every time i look at you the world gets brighter"
"you're a good person, and here's why..."
with soobin, there isn't a day that goes by where he's not thinking of you. and he makes sure to tell you this whenever you're on his mind. at 1 am you'll get a soft "thinking of you" text. no ulterior motives, he's genuinely thinking of you and the love that you two share.
☁️ choi beomgyu
likes to encourage you to do your best and go after your highest dreams. reminds you that he'll always be on the sidelines cheering you on. even when things don't go as planned, he's here for you. to listen to you when you need it and to provide encouraging, loving words when you need them. because when it comes down to it, you'd do the same for him, and gyu extends that gratitude, always.
constantly brags about you to the boys "oh, so baby did this yesterday and..."
"you're so talented."
and "i'm always here for you, even if i'm millions of miles away"
sends you a playlist of songs that remind him of you (and your relationship. and compliments towards you will not stop, even if you feel like today is an ehh type of day, you're literally the sun, moon, and stars to beomgyu's earth.
☁️ kang taehyun
you know that favorite book you have or had as a child that you randomly decided to come back to? he left a small note in there for once you found it professing how much he admires you and your love for various things. likely gifts you a poetry book, in which he highlighted every action, conversation, and poem geared towards love in pink. even wrote on the first blank page of the book:
"to my dearest, my love for you never falters. from, your lover"
i also think that taehyun, like soobin, leave little notes for you to find all-around your place. you'll find on in the shower, in the closet, in the fridge, etc.
"i love you" but written in several different languages.
"i love the way you care for other people. it's very admirable"
"you are so beautiful"
taehyun has a lot of love to give. he wants to let you know everyday how much you mean to him and he thanks the heavens that you two were able to cross paths and meet each other.
☁️ hueningkai
writes you letters. he thinks it's cheesy and would die if the boys found out and teased him for it. but he can't stop doing it. once it's in his mind to write you a letter, he HAS to sit down and do it. and in all honesty, writing these letters to you is a way for him to tell you things that he couldn't put in words before. some people are simply a lot more vulnerable in writing rather than speaking.
"what would i do without you?"
"you have my heart. forever and always"
"thank you for everything you do and continue to do"
baby boy literally squeals at how cheesy it all is, but when he sees that smile on your face, he'll do it all over again and again because you're worth everything to him.
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© PLANETDREAM 2021
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nightprompts · 3 years ago
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&. 𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
(  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  the  jujutsu  kaisen  manga  by  gege  akutami.  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )
❛ no matter how many allies you have around you, when you die, you’ll be alone. ❜
❛ but what are you going to do when someone you saved kills someone else in the future? ❜
❛ it’s not about whether i can. i have to do it. ❜
❛ if you die again, i’ll kill you myself. ❜
❛ dying to win and risking death to win are completely different. ❜
❛ i warned you that there wouldn’t be a second time. ❜
❛ searching for someone to blame is just a pain. ❜
❛ you dare touch my soul? ❜
❛ i don’t know how i’ll feel when i’m dead, but i don’t want to regret the way i lived. ❜
❛ it’ll be fine. i’m the strongest there is, after all. ❜
❛ i didn’t say to come back for it, i said to leave it behind. ❜
❛ it’s such a pain looking out for the weak. ❜
❛ i have no intention of risking my life to save someone i had no intentions of saving in the first place. ❜
❛ i always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances. ❜
❛ who’re you calling nothing special? ❜
❛ a scar on the face is a badge of honor for a man. though it’s only a flaw for a woman. ❜
❛ i want more people to enjoy fairness, even if only a few. ❜
❛ you are always trouble, no matter what era. ❜
❛ i don’t give a damn about ‘men’ this and ‘women’ that. ❜
❛ there wouldn’t have been a bright future if i had died or i had been the only one to survive. ❜
❛ you should use your strength to help others. ❜
❛ we’ll be fine. we’re the best. ❜
❛ be happy, boys. i’m the woman in your group. ❜
❛ throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honored one. ❜
❛ just help them, just do it, that way when you die, you won’t die alone. ❜
❛ it looks like just being strong isn’t enough. i can only save those who are prepared to be saved. ❜
❛ i’m into girls like jennifer lawrence. nice to meet you! ❜
❛ crap, i messed up. this could be trouble. whatever. it’ll be fine. ❜
❛ the accumulation of those little despairs is what makes a person an adult. ❜
❛ maybe i should just kill all the higher ups. ❜
❛ i refuse to keep this kid from living the best years of his life. not just him, but everyone. ❜
❛ if the other two had also died, it’d be more harassment for me and two birds with one stone for them. ❜
❛ still, irritatingly enough, i don’t have control of this body. ❜
❛ i guess it’s true that kids don’t warm up to beautiful women. ❜
❛ who the hell do you think you’re giving orders to? ❜
❛ shall i kill all the people upstairs? ❜
❛ know your place, you fool. ❜
❛ it doesn’t have to be everyone, just help the people around you, as much as you can. ❜
❛ stand proud, you are strong. ❜
❛ i bet he likes setting oil - slicked gulls on fire. ❜
❛ you can’t let yourself get trapped in an ideal of indifference. ❜
❛ you’re lucky if you can die a normal death. ❜
❛ i’m surprised you thought you could beat me using your sorry excuse for a brain! ❜
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diedbutterflies69 · 3 years ago
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Will you stay?- Bang Chan imagine.
Contains: friends to lovers au. , Divorce, smut, fluff, blindfolding, oral sex, explicit sexual stuff etc . Minors don't interact.
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Never once on your life, you thought you could get your shit together and laugh genuinely at the worst in world. falling out of love is worse but it's even more worse if it's your it's not you who fell out of love. Married at 22 and the honeymoon phase hardly lasted for a year and by the age of 26 got yourself labelled as a woman who sabotaged her own marriage in thirst of money. Your ex husband was bitter about your success even before you got married. He thought as a woman, you just did bare minimum and got yourself a high positioned rank by sleeping with one of the rich rags. You tried hard enough to hold on to that rotten red string , but he had the scissors and just cut you off. You weren't willing to sacrifice your career just because of his Immature mindset, yes you loved him, but can't a women love her own hard achieved success more? That's the question you wished to ask everyone who pointed there fingers at you. After divorce you didn't feel pain just numbness. Your self-hatred coming more stronger than ever, even hating the job, you tried Saving since years, getting life on track seemed impossible and at the end just quitted. Moved out of the city just to move back to your home town, the root of your real pain. It wasn't really a town but rather a more flashy city, expensive shits which you were unable to afford in childhood but now it wasn't any big deal. Earth is round and sometimes precious people find you all by themselves. Your highschool friend, the only friend you had throughout your lifetime because of your anti social tactics.
Bang Chan, the social butterfly who almost knew every single student in whole school, he was the hottest guy you ever saw in your life and also the kindest. You had crush on him even before you both were friends, he was your senior,used to help you with those shitty math sums, crack jokes every now and then and scolded you whenever you procrastinated. He came to congratulate you even on your graduation day, even though there were many more students whom he met you were still glad atleast someone bought you a beautiful bouquet of tulips and bellflower. The last time you saw him was before you moved out in search of cheap collages without informing him, as you thought you were just one of many friends he had and won't ever notice someone like you existed.
But god, how much wrong you were.
You met Chan after almost 9 years in convince store and his reaction was almost priceless , like finding treasure. He was now more handsome, beautiful and god-like even after all this years his style of dressing didn't Changed much, he still looked like Kim Kardashian at 2021 met Gala. nevertheless his smile still had those healing properties with his Cresent moon eyes. He was absolutely stunning.
The first sentence he spoke after confirming your identity was 'I missed you' and then tons of lectures and questions . Knowing how narrow-minded you were he gasped dramatically. Cheesiest ways of saying how could I forget my best friend and so on. That day was probably the best day of your life and maybe even the day after years you really smiled. You both exchanged numbers and addresses and his home was just 10 minutes away from yours. Destiny indeed.
Now it's been over 7 months since you met Chan again and he never made you felt like you were just one of his 109 friends. Chan made you feel special, after knowing what kind of disaster you faced he was even more supporting of you, you both used to spend weekend together watching variety of shows and movies going to stargazing, best friend goals. After many years you knew even if Chan had many people to confide with he never really did. He was alone, just a night owl obsessed with work. You were happy. And he was happy too. Being just friends was enough for you, but not for him . He was slowly trying to find courage to confess his love to you. He liked you fuck from highschool days. He found you once randomly staring at him across the room and when you suddenly disappeared all his fantasies were scattered, he knew your dreams and was willing to help you with your every step. knowing how messed up your household was from your neighbours he felt guilty for not being able to give you happiness. He loved you, but was helded by his own insecurities.
Not anymore though, he wasn't the same coward who just stared at the love of his life from distance. Being the extra human he was, he bought you one of the most expensive restaurant of the whole country, man was loaded. After driving for almost 5 hours you both finally reached there .
Now a nervous Chan sitting infront of you. You being oblivious to the fact that he has a beautiful diamond ring and a confession to make. Chan handed you the menu card and every single dish had an extraordinary name, without much thought you placed the order.
"atleast tell me now, why are we here?" You asked the man infront of you who was behaving extra weird today, he looked sick and was occassionally asking you random questions.
"No reason, I was in mood for long drives and... You know have a nice meal" Chan said fidgeting with his fingers he was acting like a flustered high school guy it was clearly indicating that he was lying but you didn't really care, Chan was weird sometimes.
"Sounds fake, but okay. By the way you aren't sick right?" You asked Chan out of pure concern as he was sweating profusely even in an cold AC room.
"I am fine, just feeling a little hot. Don't worry", Chan said it was more like he was convincing himself that he was fine and shouldn't worry. He wasn't a teenager but a human with responsibilities who once again fell for someone out of his league, he used to think that and he still sees you as a literal goddess. While he was lost deep in his thoughts, the waiter came with food , and this was his opportunity to shoot his arrow. You both started eating and talked like being in paradise.
"did you liked anyone in highschool?", Chan asked you out of blue making you almost choke on food. The only person whom you liked throughout your highschool days was the guy sitting infront of you and you didn't really remembered much guys and the best answer was probably saying a lie with little truth.
"no one lol", you answered trying to sound chilled but since highschool crush topic was out you weren't able to keep your curiosity with yourself.
"What about you, liked someone?", You asked trying to sound nonchalant and not desperate and bitter.
This was the Exactly the conversation that Chan planned in his mind. And here started his way to either heaven or pit of rejection.
"I loved someone", Chan said and you this time you really choked from the depth of your heart, you thought Chan was anti romantic type of guy as he never talked about of his female friends with you or bragged about his non existent dating life. Trying again to not sound jealous or bitter you spoke again.
" Who was that lucky bit-- I mean girl yes girl? Who was she?", You asked, almost letting out the bitch loudly. You weren't sure but you saw Chan smiling cheekily, he was really getting old acting weird more and more everyday.
"Well... Someone from our school",Chan said and you swear you didn't made a disgusting face showing pure jealousy. The best human in your life and your first ever crush had crush on somebody, you didn't knew why you were feeling so fucking bitter but you weren't able to handle the curiosity anymore.
"Tell me her damn name", you asked Chan in a frustrating tone not being able to keep jealousy to yourself.
"Why you being angry", Chan asked followed by his small laugh.
"I am angry, just the food was a little spicy you answer me now, her name?", You answered Chan with your defenses up and still sticking with your previous question.
Chan in response got a little serious now,you thought he was being childish now, he wasn't a kid who was given a dare to name out his crush yet he was acting like one.
"You won't leave me right, I mean after I answer your question?", Chan asked you and you didn't knew what to say in response you were now a little sus about him.
"fine don't answer, keep secrets", you said and continued eating. The next thing Chan said made you now choke and die on food.
"I loved you and I still love you" Chan said looking down at the table head hanging down like his teenage self just confessed he watched porn infront of his parents. You were shocked, frozen and the your heartbeat 10x faster, you didn't knew how to react and tried to find humor in this extraordinary situation.
"Chan, you kidding right?", You asked Chan with a nervous smile on your face. Chan looked up at you , his eyes trying to find yours but you avoided the eye contact.
"I am serious, I liked you from HighSchool times, I saw you for the first time in library when you were looking at me, I swear you were so beautiful and even now after all this years after seeing you I can't, I can't help but fall for you all over again, sorry"
Chan confessed, his voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability his sentences were scattered here and there and incomplete explanation but still you understood everything he really poured his heart to you, you felt like crying even if you both weren't such stupid cowards back then, then today you won't have turned out a divorced women and Chan a guy who grew out lonely even if he had a world for him.
"What should I say Chan?", You asked Chan you were sounding like a girl whose bf told her to breakup even if the situation was exact opposite. Even if you love Chan , you didn't think about him reciprocating same feelings back to you. You were beyond insecure with your love emotions. One thing was sure you won't be able to love Chan without being a bundle on him. Your emotion Baggage was too big and you didn't want Chan to get his heart too with your stupid emotions.
"I love you and I will be really really good to you. Please try staying with me I will try really hard to earn space in your heart, please?" His confession was like literally begging. You weren't able to believe if he was real or not, if it was a dream that will end as soon as cruel morning comes, this felt like fantasy. Chan was a amazing man, he had everything money ,honour ,beauty a nice heart. He was like a character written by women so perfect so delicate yet strong, and he loves you this fact was enough for to lose your mind. but you thought you were a taint to his beauty, you were a character full of inferior complexes and a person too easy to dislike thats what illusion you made about yourself. A random extra in her own story.
"I will pay the bill, let's talk later", you said and walked away immediately to pay the bill leaving a clueless and disheartened human behind. Chan was able to see how you stopped yourself from saying love you too and throwing yourself in his arms. He wasn't same from HighSchool a guy who gets overwhelmed by his own emotions and gets unable to see others. He knew you had atleast a small space for him in your heart and to make a big room for himself he had to throw out all your insecurities and self hatred. He followed you like a lost puppy and he wanted to pay for food but you already did and now you were already out of restaurant searching for his car to get back.
Chan sitted beside you, without doing anything silence and awkward air surrounding you both.
"start the car", you said breaking down the silence, you were extremely worthless and trash as you made the only one person whom you love feel like nothing.
"Just answer me, will you try dating me please", Chan said his voice again passing draggers into your heart. Trying to form any logical explanation you spoke again.
"I am not looking for relationship right now, see Chan you are amazing, but I can't make you happy now and did you forgot that I am divorced, please understand" you said expressing your real insecurities and fear, fear of not being able to keep a man happy.
"you don't want relationship because you divorced that fucking trash of a man?", Chan asked he was getting frustrated you thought but he just wanted to make you happy and not deny what your heart wants.
"my mind isn't stable, I might just irritate you everytime with my mood, you will will get tired of me and leave me -- I don't want to be alone again I will die if you leave me", you confessed tears threatening to fall out of your eyes there wasn't any doubt that you loved Chan he filled the void in you in just months made you happy but you didn't wanted to just take and take and give nothing in return. Chan's hand found yours interlocking your fingers with so much delicateness that you might cry.
"you think so low of me, just stay by my side I will make you so happy that you will hardly get time to think about your past, trust me", Chan said his fingers slightly lifting your chin up to look into your eyes, you looked in his eyes filled with so much care and this was your last straw before breaking down in his arms.
"I love you, I love you so fuckin much, you were my first love my only friend, my everything, please-- please love me", you confessed tightening your arms around Chan, his scent making you feel safe and like home, his one caressing your hair and other wiping away the tears. Even though the scene was more like a dramatic clique scene whatever emotions you both felt was unexplainable.
"So you my girlfriend now hmm?"Chan asked you for first time in night his voice containing pure happiness and excitement.
"I have a sexy boyfriend", you said smiling from ear to ear against Chan's chest. The label boyfriend making your heart flutter, you didn't knew happiness like this can even exist.
"My love", Chan said his voice sweeter than honey, suddenly the night was more starry."now can we go home?" You asked Chan finally breaking the hug, reality hitted you now Home was 3- 4 hours away.
"I made a reservation in hotel, we gonna spend night there", Chan casually said making your heart jump out of your chest.
"pervert, you planned everything seriously", you said dramatically and giving him a playful digusting look.
"I booked two rooms", Chan said now starting the engine making you feel embarrassed. "Who is pervert now~" Chan said in air teasing you more.
The rest of the ride you both talked about anything and everything. Confessing how you used to find ways to always be in each others vision etc. Both of you finding a new thirsty side of each other. Nothing felt uncomfortable, it was happiness those inhumane laughs crazy tricks you both used to pull everything was heaven. After some time you both reached infront of a gaint hotel , it looked expensive af but regardless Chan knew how to waste money and you were tired of lecturing him about savings.
"let's go", Chan said removing your seatbelt and getting out of car to open the door for ya. He was being so cheesy gentleman and you were enjoying every minute.
"room 42 and 43" Chan said to the receptionist and she handed two keys to him. Thanking her then getting on elevator, you were a little disappointed that you weren't sharing room with Chan, yes you were pervert and total simp for Chan, he was too hot and your sexual drive was getting higher each passing second. The elevator doors opened and you got off. Chan handed you the room key and softly kissed your forehead, both you wished it was your lips.
"if you want anything, just knock okay?" Chan said in his lovely tone, I want you you internally screamed, nevertheless you gave him a nod and got inside that expensive room .
Starring at the ceiling while lying on the bed your mind was full of Chan, you knew he wasn't probably sleeping and was wasting time in watching random shit on internet and you were hungry, hungry for Chan, it wasn't your fault that Chan was so hot. Trying to fall asleep and fidgeting here to there you finally decided to knock on Chan's room door. A danger zone. You noticed how the door flunged open in less than few seconds.
"Hi" you said scratching back of your head and trying to think what next to say.
"Hi..?"Chan said being confused.
"there is cockroach in my room, let me stay with you" you said a clear white lie. Taking impulsive action were never good for you.Chan sighed before opening the door fully and signalling you to come. This was your happiest day ever.
"whY you lying", Chan asked you as you plopped yourself on sofa besides bed. He asked the sentence in a sarcastic way.
"Do you you wanna kiss me?", You asked Chan with a straight serious face catching him off-guard, you didn't wanted to waste more time, you wanted to do everything with Chan, yes fucking on first day of dating was a little too early but you fantasized about this gorgeous man since ages, in your eyes he looked total dom but his reaction to your question was making you doubt your thoughts.
"Are you sure", Chan asked you clearing his throat.
"Are you virgin?"you asked Chan, he was being too nervous.
"Obviously not"Chan answered you in duh tone, rolling his eyes. And it was getting awkward.
"The cockroach must have gone by now I should go, bye", you blabbered and got up ready to leave, you were about to open the door but Chan grabbed your hand and before you knew anything his hands were on your cheeks cupping them softly and his lips so close to yours, Chan's eyes were looking straight in your orbs , your heartbeat stronger than ever.
"Can I?", Chan asked your consent his thumb softly brushing against your lower lip. This man had totally made you insane, something stirred inside you. Chan was perfect he was everything you wished. You gave him a small nod and slowly his lips touched against yours, you wanted to cry, his lips felt so good, he didn't rushed his movements everything was happening in slow motion, he holded you with such a vulnerability like he was afraid that you will go, your hand reached his head, fingers moving through his soft locks. You felt his tongue inside your mouth , you felt a electricity run down your body when the kiss deepened.
We kiss again. The next kiss is the kind that breaks open the sky. It steals my breath and gives it back. It shows me that every other kiss I’ve had in my life has been wrong.
Breaking the kiss Reluctantly in need of air, Chan rested his forehead against yours. He was hot almost like burning, sweating.
"Why are you so nervous, Chan?", You asked Chan hugging him tightly clinging like the last leaf to the tree.
"I am scared, I just love you", He said engulfing you in his arms. And you Finally felt, what real love feels like.
"Love you too", you replied softly.
"Do you wanna continue..?"Chan asked you his tone little less scared.
"Off course", you said looking at him with smile, something inside you told it was okay to let out your freaky side infront of Chan. Chan smiled back and suddenly turned you around , the large bed infront of you.
"Lie down there",Chan whispered in your ears , his low register sending shivers down your spine. This was exactly how you pictured Chan to be, your inner submissive almost died. You followed Chan's word and laid on your back on the bed, now you were feeling like a virgin. His eyes roaming through the room in search of something.
"Are you okay with being blindfolded?", Chan asked you as he came back with the tie he wore today and was rolling it slightly in his palms, and you swear you never saw a man so hot in your entire life. Getting blindfolded was one of your unfulfilled kinks.
"ye- yes", you replied your tone filled with thrill and excitement. Chan came back to you standing near you, his hand softly cupped your cheeks , before bringing the tie to use it in sinistrous way tonight. The cloth felt strange to your eyes, his cologne smell hitting you and Chan caught your shy smile, His heart felt so fluffy. Tieing a comfortable knot Chan sat on bed near your waist. His hands slowly crept near your stomach leaving a direct lingering touch on the sensitive skin, eventually going upwards while giving a little squeeze to add stimulation, his hands reached your boobs, you didn't wore bra, and he wasn't surprised maybe your nipples perked up enough to get noticed, his middle and index finger Rolling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the blindfold making his every touch more intense, your breath was heavy you let out a suprised moan when Chan gropped your right boob in an erotic way, this sole action increasing your wetness down there you were getting impatient. You moaned his name a little loudly when his lips came in contact with your sensitive neck, sucking in a painful way, inorder to leave a hickey.
"Should I touch you here", Chan asked you as his hand reached to your area where you needed him to the most, hands going directly inside your panties ,but not touching he was a teaser.
"yes please", you moaned almost breathlessly too tired of intense foreplay. You just wanted Chan to rip off your clothes and fuck you till sunrise. Getting satisfaction with your answer Chan finally removed every clothing of your lower body, leaving you completely bare, all at his mercy. His finger moved up and down on your opening , the wetness making Chan easily slip his one finger deep inside you.
" my baby is so wet, because of who?", Chan asked you as his finger was moving slowly inside of you and thumb rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.
"because of.. you", you admitted without any hesitation trying to grind yourself on his hand, begging for more.
"Good", Chan said and without saying anything he added another finger inside you moving a little faster inside your cunt, rubbing your walls with a little pressure, scissoring them inside you painfully and making way for a third finger too and by then you were a complete moaning mess, his fingers were pleasure yet torture the blindfold making your senses weak. Mind full of whatever Cham was giving you. Your legs were shaking sign of your orgasm approaching you, by one hand Chan holded your thighs tightly to their place fingers now moving more faster to make you reach the peak of pleasure.
"Chan.. I--I-I-- wanna cum please", you moaned your little squeaks and begs almost making Chan's cock cum right inside boxers. With some final thrust of his fingers, you cummed the hardest you could imagine, squeaky sounds coming as Chan was fingering you through your orgasm, you almost crying from overstimulation. Moaning his name like a chant.
"you did well",Chan praised you finally removing his fingers from you leaving you empty, but it won't have last wrong. Chan removed your blindfold , the bright lights hurting your eyes, you adjusted your vision and the image of Chan sucking his wet fingers coated with your liquid came directly in front of your eyes. Letting out a helpless whine.
Chan plopped himself on knees on either side of your thighs, finally letting his cock out, leaking with precum, and he was big, thick , you didn't thought he could get even hotter.
"Ready baby?", Chan asked you as he fully undressed himself as well as removing your top, your mind hazey . The scene which you pictured since highschool finally happening.
"yes", you replied Chan, he came down to kiss you passionately and slowly entering inside you. You moaned painfully, tears pulling your vision, it was a painful pleasure. Chan kissed away your tears and hand interlocking with yours after finally being fully inside you he started to move at slow pace.
"you feel so good Chan", almost screaming from pleasure, your whines were fuel to Chan's ego and he increased the pace. Body slapping sound filling the room, his groans were most sexy thing you ever heard. Again and again his tip hitting your deepest spots.
"I am close", you moaned out breathlessly, pleasure becaming too much to handle .you released around his cock, reaching the peak second time at night.
After giving a few more thrusts Chan cummed at your stomach, he was still sane enough to not curse you with kids while being lost in pleasure."I love you", he said as he settled beside you hugging you tightly. This was heaven.
"love you too", you said , your voice a little hoarse.
"by the way I forgot that I bought a ring to propose you", Chan said, realisation hitting him, that he forgot to say the long ass paragraph that he was supposed to say while sitting on one knee. You smiled at his guilty face.
"don't worry, propose me after having shower", you said heart filled with pure joy and happiness . Happiness of knowing that You love someone who will always love you back.
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gentlemancowboy · 3 years ago
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My gift for @sundryvillains​ for the @spnvalentines’ gift exchange ♡
Gene gave me so many amazing prompts for potential creations, but I was immediately inspired to write a fic when they mentioned loving time travel. Also, when someone says, “just wreck me. throw my body off a bridge. watch me float downstream,” that is 1000% a challenge I am going to accept.
So here it is, an extremely angsty / hurt with very little comfort time travel fic, in which s5 Cas gets thrown into the future while trying to send Sam and Dean into the past and ends up watching s13 Dean mourn him. Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day. Yes, it’s sad. But what is love without a little heartbreak?
Title inspired by the song of the same name by and Florence + the Machine, the lyrics of which are interspersed throughout.
Heavy in Your Arms 4.8k words Preview below Read on ao3
The ground rushes up to meet Castiel faster than he can brace himself against it. He lands face down in soft earth with a heavy thud. If he had any wind to be knocked out of him, he's sure he'd be fighting to catch his breath. 
He rolls over onto his back—head spinning, body weak—and tries to make sense of the scene spreading up and out around him. A canopy of perennial trees slowly snaps into focus above him. The air is cool and crisp, not what he was expecting for springtime in Kansas. He must have overshot Lawrence by a few miles. 
A sudden gust of wind whips through the trees, ruffling his hair around his face and filling his nose with the smell of pine and ocean salt. 
Okay. Maybe he overshot Kansas by more than a few miles. 
He waits for the ringing in his head to subside and then pushes himself up off the ground, wobbling on legs that feel like stretched out rubber bands. He steadies himself against the closest tree and tries to get his bearings. 
There’s nothing but forest stretching in every direction. If Castiel had to venture a guess, based on the tree he’s leaning on alone (Picea sitchensis, Sitka spruce, he notes), he’d say he was somewhere along the northwestern coast of the United States. Where exactly, though, is quite inconsequential at this point—he’s a long way off from where he needs to be. 
If he’s being honest with himself, he’s rather surprised he’s still topside. It’s one thing to jump into the past solo, but to do so with two full-grown men—and all the while being cut off from the powers of Heaven—he’s lucky he’s landed anywhere at all. 
His own well-being, however, is the least of his worries now. Another quick scan of his surroundings confirms that Castiel is very much alone. There’s no sign of his two companions anywhere. He wonders if Sam and Dean made it to 1978 in one piece. If they did, they’ll likely be trapped there until Castiel can manage to find a way back to them. If they didn’t—well—Castiel has a whole slew of new problems on his hands. 
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath out of habit rather than necessity. 
One problem at a time, he tells himself, and then considers his options. 
His power is drained, so traveling back on his own is not an option. He knows trying to communicate with his fellow angels is a long shot. His connection to Heaven has been verifiably severed since the start of the Apocalypse, and no doubt this little time travel stunt doesn’t exactly put him in God’s good graces.
Still, there’s a chance. 
Eyes still closed, Castiel steels himself and attempts to home in on the familiar buzz of angel chatter that normally pulsates through the atmosphere. Several silent minutes pass before he opens his eyes again, defeated. 
He digs his cell phone out of his coat. Plan B. Dean had given it to him a few months prior, after Castiel had branded Sam and Dean’s ribs with protection sigils. It’s a rather primitive device, especially for an angel, but it’s proven useful in the past. A quick glance at the screen, however, tells him he’ll have no such luck today. The words NO SERVICE stare, mocking, back up at him. 
He sighs, pocketing the phone, and decides his best option at this point is simply to walk. 
Read the rest on ao3.
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retrocontinuity · 3 years ago
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Eat, for this is Her Body: Chainsaw Man and the Doxology of Cannibalism
"One day," Anthony Oliveira writes in "The Year in Apocalypses," [Jesus'] disciples approached their master while he was silent in prayer and made a request: 'Lord, teach us how to pray.'" From here, Jesus teaches them the Lord's Prayer, what the Catholic Church once called "the summary of the whole gospel":
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Denji is no one's disciple. When we first meet him, he is closer to how Oliveira describes Jesus himself, "homeless, gleaning for food in the field like a sparrow and relying on the kindness of strangers to put him up, . . . a man cheerfully resigned to powerlessness." And so, Denji doesn't need to be taught how to pray. He has always known. Every bone in his body at the opening of Chainsaw Man sings out the Lord's Prayer: "forgive me my debts", "deliver me from evil." And, of course, Denji is intimately familiar with the prayer's most pitiable, most powerful line. It's this line that he cries out to Makima when he rests, Pieta-like, in her arms at the end of the first chapter. It can only be this line, one that Denji might have written himself:
Give me, from this day forward, and for all the rest of my days, daily bread.
Bread runs throughout CSM like a mocking scent that you only fully identify in the last two chapters. It should have been a sign to all of us when the first meal Makima buys for Denji is not bread (but rather a hot dog and udon noodles). It isn't until Denji meets and enters Aki's home that he is seen making a hideously overladen slice of toast for himself, luxuriating in having all the toppings he was denied. The morning after she forces Denji to open the door to Power's death, Makima makes the very breakfast she once promised to serve Denji: eggs, coffee, salad, and sliced bread. But this is a meal that Denji never eats—maybe the only meal in the entire series that he, a survivor of the meanest starvation and poverty, ignores. There is only one other time we see this meal in CSM, and it is subtle, almost off camera, though no less meaningful: in Chapter 53, after Reze's death, as Denji sits down to breakfast once more with Power and Aki.
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To revisit CSM's public safety arc is to see all the ways the plot connects itself to food and the act of eating, both appetizing and revolting, both profound and profane. Denji, eating gyoza at a bar for the first time. Denji being forced to swallow barf as he is kissed for the first time. The Fox Devil, who eats indiscriminately and on command, who refuses to return to Aki after being fed something disgusting. A fox that is hunted and transformed into stew. Denji eating sandwiches at Reze's cafe. Aki and Angel eating noodles. A woman sitting down to eat a hamburger for the first time, before she commits mass murder. She is worried she has lost her taste buds, yet she exclaims, "So delicious!" We know, later, that this woman is a liar, that no part of her is what she presents herself to be. Should we take this moment at its face value then? Was Santa Claus simply lucky enough to have preserved her sense of taste? Or was it her one last act of humanity, to recognize that it is not enough just to eat, that man does not live on bread alone, that there must be at least food that is also delicious, that inspires people to get up and dance—even if it means she has to lie about what she can experience?
Food is necessary for survival, and CSM is a story about survival. But CSM is also a story about glimpsing the after. After you know you can keep living, what next? After you are no longer starving, after you have been forced to kill a friend, after you have touched your first boob, after you have been betrayed, what next? After you are tired of eating toast with jam for breakfast, what do you eat next?
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The version of the Lord's Prayer we tend to recite asks for "our daily bread." But this, most modern scholars believe, is a mistranslation. The Greek adjective as it appears in the Gospel of Matthew and Luke is "epiousios," which doesn't mean "daily" at all, but rather something too complicated etymologically for me to even begin to parse. The point is that what we ask for in the Lord's Prayer is not just bread for today, but bread for tomorrow. Both the physical bread and the spiritual bread. Bread on this kingdom of earth, and bread that is the kingdom of heaven. Bread to feed our bodies, and bread to feed our souls. The realm of the divine is full of these moments, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one.
Denji starts the series asking for daily bread, and ends the public safety arc with Nayuta, Makima's reincarnation, asking him for daily bread. Trash heap Denji, living with his not!dog Pochita, really was just asking for daily bread. A slice to eat for breakfast, maybe even with butter and jam. But he too learns that bread, physical bread, is not enough. Merely to subsist, to eat good food, is an empty life. And what he must give Nayuta is not just bread, as was given to him. Otherwise, he will be trapped in a cycle of creating more Makimas. Instead, he must give her a relationship, a family, a world that Makima was unable to create. He must give her, in Pochita's words, lots of hugs. He must give her, in the words of the Lord's Prayer, epiousios.
To be clear, I am not arguing that CSM is meant to be read through a Catholic lens, and I doubt Fujimoto had all of this in mind when he wrote it (though he must have thought something, given that he drew a very large print of Gustave Dore's "Satan descends upon Earth" in Makima's entranceway!). But there is something primal (primordial?) about the Lord's Prayer. If every reader can understand the horror that the Darkness Devil represents, so too we can understand the intimacy and comfort of the Lord's Prayer. It is, as Oliveira writes, "a simple peasant's mantra for detoxing anxiety." Jesus opens by addressing God as father—not king, not an all-mighty spiritual being, but rather "abba, which is rather closer to 'dad,' and not in the intercultural Greek of his adulthood, but the Aramaic of home and childhood." The Lord's Prayer asks for what we always want, the only thing any of us have ever wanted since leaving the womb as infants: for no bad things to happen, for there to be enough to eat.
Even if what we have to eat is another person.
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At the center of the Christian liturgy is the Last Supper, and at the center of the Last Supper is a meal that functions as ritual, abomination, accusation, transubstantiation, paranoia, and an early example of cracking open a cold one with the bros. Here, Jesus shares bread and wine with his disciples and then, as if trying to invent r/creepypasta years before its time, informs them they are actually eating his flesh and blood. This image is so powerful and heretical that the Romans accused early Christians of being cannibals. And why shouldn't they? It's there in the text. "Take, eat. This is my body. This is my blood." Stripped of the grandeur of tradition and ritual, this is downright vampiric. And yet it goes on to become the cornerstone of the Christian faith.
Oliveira begs us to see the Last Supper as a family meal, one shared by Jesus and his found family. "All he is really saying is, 'I hope when you eat together, you remember me.'" It's a good reading, one that moves me to tears, and is the framework through which I see the events of chapter 80. Because Makima is not the first time that Denji "consumes" a friend, and I don't just mean him sucking Power's blood or taking Pochita into himself. When Aki died, he left half his fortune to Denji, who uses it to support himself and Power. They "pigged out on good food," he tells us. This is Aki's symbolic body, through which he provides Denji his daily bread. Eat ice cream and onigiri in remembrance of me.
But it is not how I see the events of chapter 96. Denji does not eat Makima in the context of a feast. He does not partake of her in a communal meal, as Jesus did, among his found family. He eats every bite of Makima alone. Jesus said before his death, "this is my blood, which is shed for many." Yet Denji says to Makima, I alone will absolve you alone of your sins. I alone will bear you alone.
Denji's Last Supper is a lonely remembrance. He is hoping that no one but him will remember her. He is hoping to wholly consume her, because he loves her. "We love as cannibals," French philosopher and activist Simone Weil wrote. "Beloved beings . . . provide us with comfort, energy, a simulant. They have the same effect on us as a good meal. . . . We love them, then, as food." In fact, Weil believed we cannot love any other way. As humans, we are forever doomed to want to eat the ones we love. In order to escape, we must both be devoured by God and then become food for our fellow human beings. As Alec Irwin writes of Weil's philosophy, "the devouring violence of God must be positively harnessed in order to dismantle the machinery of human cruelty."
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If Weil is right and being devoured is transformation, a crucial part of salvation, then in eating Makima, Denji redeems her. He turns her into food to break the cycle of her cruelty. For Makima's power itself is consuming, cannibalistic. She "eats" humans in order to use her power, which remains mysterious like God moving across the face of the earth, leaving only broken corpses as a sign of its presence. So it must be Denji, not Chainsaw Man, who does the consuming. If Pochita had consumed her, as she had always prayed for, then it would simply be another act of violence being enacted. Instead, Denji gives her salvation by turning her into human food—his food.
To Denji, Aki was human, his family, his brother, his friend.  It is Makima he loves as a God and a woman. To him, she is Satan and God, his betrayer and his creator, his salvation and his friends' damnation. So he must take her, consume her, digest her, excrete her, reduce her to nothing, as she once consumed and excreted and reduced him. "I ate her to become one with her." He ate her to become her. There is no truer form of his love than for Denji to take Makima into himself. I use those words purposefully, because this is the rejection of classic cishet PIV penetration, that old hoary chestnut of men inside women. As Don Delillo famously outlines in White Noise, we talk about sex as if women are containers, rooms, elevator lobbies: "He entered me," "I want him inside me," "I took him into myself." Denji and Makima never have physical sex, but this is a consummation, a reversal of roles. We are given the only sex that Shounen Jump will allow us, with Denji taking Makima into himself. She enters him. She is inside him. He is—physically, emotionally, willingly—penetrated by her flesh. She is released inside of him, becoming part of him.
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Because the divine is full of moments like this, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one. That is the kingdom and the power and the glory. For Makima now lives in that country inhabited by God, where loving and eating are one and the same. For that country is none other than Denji's body.
In conclusion:
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Substitute Makima for "God", and the preceding statements are still rigorously accurate.
Further Reading:
Anthony Oliveira's ongoing podcast reading the Gospel of Mark (Patreon exclusive, but I highly recommend, even/especially if you are a heathen like me)
Hannibal (NBC)
Daniel Birnbaum and Anders Olsson, An Interview with Jacques Derrida on the Limits of Digestion
David Farrell Krell, "All You Can't Eat: Derrida's Course, "Rhetorique du Cannibalisme (1990-1991)." Research in Phenomenology, vol. 36, 2006, pp. 130–180. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24660636. 
Alec Irwin, “Devoured by God: Cannibalism, Mysticism, and Ethics in Simone Weil.” CrossCurrents, vol. 51, no. 2, 2001, pp. 257–272. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24460795.
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anythingforspence · 4 years ago
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the capstone - chapter one
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Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.
Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 1.8 k
Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet
A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.
Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.
With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.
Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.
Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”
I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.
-----
A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.
“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?” 
Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.
“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.
“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.
“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.
Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.
I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”
“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.
“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.
“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”
“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”
“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”
“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”
I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”
“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle. 
“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.
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bxngchxn · 4 years ago
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Cupid’s Arrow || A Valentine’s Special
pairing: jisung x female!reader
wc: 2.85k 
genre: cupid!au, fluff, humor
warnings: none!
description: every cupid has one job: shoot the arrow at your assigned human. What happens when someone misses?
a/n: ok so I started writing this at 9pm and it’s currently 12:46 am on valentines day so obvs this won’t be perfect but this was a cute idea so I hope you guys like it! you’re all my valentines you don’t have a choice ok mwah love u 
(ps: pls don't be mad at me for how I ended this lmao if yall like it enough i’ll write a pt 2!)
taglist:  @dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix
-
the week leading up to Valentine’s Day is the busiest day of the year for angels like Jisung-- assignment after assignment of soulmates coming across his desk as the romantic holiday looms closer. don’t get him wrong, jisung loves his job. He loves getting to watch the moment two people, fated to each other finally meet-- the soft smiles, the faint blushes and shy introductions are something that makes his entire week. this time of year, though, all he really wants is to go home for the night. 
he turns off the multiple screens on his desk, videos of intended lovers fading to black as his day comes to an end. closing the door and making sure to turn the lock, jisung sighs in relief as he makes his way down the hallway to the elevators, a few fellow cupids waiting for him by the door. 
“hey jisung! we’re taking a trip down to earth to walk amongst the humans for awhile. do you wanna tag along?” Minho, the oldest of the bunch asks. next to him, jisung spots hyunjin, changbin and jeongin looking at him expectantly.
jisung met the group of angels five years ago, when he first started his job. inexperienced and ridiculously nervous, he clung to his coworkers throughout all of his training. although a sarcastic and rather rowdy bunch, jisung was quickly accepted for his bright smile and love for..well, love.
he had always found it interesting, the concept of love. it was merely a human emotion, but at the same time something so inhumanly complex. the idea that everyone has a person that they absolutely can’t live without, and some of them don’t even know it yet? crazy to him, but oh so fascinating. 
the early days are always his favorite to watch once he’s successfully struck two people. everything is new and fun, and so unpredictable. there’s the first dates, shy hand holding, stolen glances. you never know when someone is going to finally make the first move, shyly moving closer and closer to their lover to gauge their reaction. jisung had always wondered what love felt like-- the closest he could get was his job as a cupid. he figured that would have to suffice.
when he finally reaches the doors to the elevators, he flashes a smile at the boys in front of him. “last time we went down to earth, hyunjin literally caused a traffic jam because he smiled at a dog. are you guys sure this is a good idea?” he quips, and the boys laugh while hyunjin rolls his (absolutely gorgeous) eyes. 
“first of all that's not true,” he begins, and elbows jeongin in the side when he hears a sound of contradiction leave his mouth “and we aren’t going anywhere crowded, just to a café that I saw the other day when I was working.” he says, and jisung nods his head in contemplation. 
“sure, that sounds like fun. I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in awhile,” he agrees, and with that, the five make their way into the elevator.
stepping out onto the sidewalk, jisung took a moment to feel the sun on his skin. this was one of his favorite parts about earth, so warm and so bright. of course, it’s nothing compared to heaven, but sometimes the change of scenery made it easier for jisung to relax. 
the group is quite chatty as they make their way to the suggested café, commenting on the different humans they pass. everyone is so unique in their own ways, and it fascinates the five angels, who rarely get to walk among them. Lucky for them, they look like any other human being, meaning no one will be able to tell the difference.
the café that hyunjin brought everyone to had a light and airy atmosphere. the walls a bright white, flourishing greenery all around the restaurant complimented the white and yellow tables and matching chairs. It felt like they were in the middle of a field of wild flowers. jisung absolutely adored it, the smells of coffee and pastries filling his nose as they found a nice table next to a window.
looking around, the jisung watched as a girl made her way across the café and sat close to the entrance, with a laptop in front of her and headphones around her neck. She seemed content, sighing to herself with a small smile on her lips as she opened her laptop and took a bite of the muffin sitting in front of her.
“wait wait wait, that’s one of my humans! I’m supposed to shoot her once th- oh my god! there’s the soon-to-be soulmate too! I can’t miss this opportunity!” Minho exclaims quietly while he reaches into the backpack he had brought with him. The other cupids turn to look at him incredulously.
The ‘soon-to-be soulmate’, as Minho put it, seemed rather dull compared to his supposed counterpart. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was something about him that just didn’t seem right to Jisung. this girl seemed to match the vibes of the café-- like a warm summer day, not a cloud in the sky. the kind of day that lasts in your memories for years to come, and this man...he just was not it. Hair disheveled, seemingly in a rush as he was tapping his foot impatiently at the counter. Jisung knew that opposites could attract, but he just didn’t see it in the cards for this one.
“is this why you wanted to come down here?” jeongin asked with wide eyes, knowing that they shouldn’t be meddling unless they’re on the clock. The others turn to Minho who has now gotten two arrows and his bow out from his bag. 
“Uhm….no?” he says sheepishly once he sees the stares that are being thrown at him. He takes one of the arrows and lines it up on his bow, pulling his arm back and aiming at the girl peacefully enjoying her day.
“Minho do you really think this is the best time?” jisung asks apprehensively. almost too focused on getting a good shot, Minho didn’t answer him.
He lets go of the arrow and it zips through the air, hitting the girl in the shoulder as she starts to work on her laptop. Humans can’t physically feel the arrow when they get shot-- that almost defeats the belief in soulmates. She continues on as if nothing happened, and jisung almost rolls his eyes as he watches Minho line up his second shot.
“Look,” Minho begins, “they’re supposed to meet tomorrow anyway! why not speed up the process?” he says as he draws his arm back. 
Out of nowhere, a customer in the store drops a coffee cup. The sound of the glass shattering startles pretty much everyone in the café, including the group of angels. In fact, it startles them enough that the unbelievable happens.
Minho’s arm slips, and the arrow is released...straight into Jisung’s shoulder.
The two look at each other in absolute disbelief, and Jisung wants to strangle the older cupid. A very quiet “oops” leaves Minho’s mouth.  
“Are you kidding me?!?” Jisung says a little too loudly. Everyone is looking at the two of them, including the girl that Minho just struck. 
When the two make eye contact, Jisung feels something...strange. He knows it’s a reaction from the love arrow, but is this what love is supposed to feel like? He feels like he wants to throw up, butterflies flying in his stomach as he notices the faint blush on the cheeks of the girl across the room. That’s when he really sees her for the first time, like, really sees her.
He isn’t sure how he didn't see it before. Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her eyes that are staring at him in slight confusion still shine brighter than any star he’d ever seen..and he’s seen a lot of stars.
He’s silent for a few moments, and the other boys start looking at each other with concern. “Wait, no, what the hell? Cupid’s can’t get struck! What is going on?” Changbin says as he watches the way the two are staring at each other. 
This isn’t allowed. Cupids don’t have many rules, but one of the biggest rules for any angel is: Do not associate with humans. It’s the reason why they can’t-- or shouldn't, really-- feel love in the first place. Messing with the rules of the universe could have big consequences. It’s never happened before, but there have always been enough myths that get spread around that would deter any angel from even thinking about it. Yet, here jisung is, absolutely head over heels for a human, even if it is all Minho’s fault.
“I don't know, this hasn't happened before. Oh my god, what did I do,” Minho starts spiraling. Its at that moment that the others know they need to get the hell out of there. Scooping up Jisung, who is currently still staring at the girl who has now focused on her work instead, they rush out of the café. Once Jisung is out of eyesight of the girl, he shakes his head in confusion and comes back down to earth (pun intended). 
“Ohhhh no, no no no. This is bad,” Jisung says, running his hands through his hair exasperated. “Minho what the fuck happened?!” he asks. 
Putting his hands up, Minho tries to defend himself. “I don’t know! That person dropped their cup and it threw me off!” he says quickly, and it makes Jisung want to roll his eyes.
“You dumbass, that’s why we shouldn’t even be down here in the first place! If Chan finds out, we’re dead! That’s it! We’re gonna be out of jobs and not able to pay our bills and-- oh my god there she is,” Jisung exclaims once he sees the girl exit the café, looking around confused. Turning around, she spots Jisung and starts to make her way towards him. 
“Oh no, nope. Not now, this is a bad time,” Hyunjin says while they try to drag Jisung away from the girl. He shimmies out of their grip as she approaches him.
“Uh, hi. I think one of you left this in the café?” she says. Looking down, Jisung sees his cellphone in her hand. “I saw it sitting at the table you guys walked away from, I’m glad I was able to find you when I came outsi-- Oh, wow, hi..” she cuts herself off, awestruck when she makes eye contact with Jisung. Hyunjin rolls his eyes as he watches the two of them. Jisung doesn’t know what to say. 
“Oh, yeah this is..mine..thank you,” he says as he holds out his hand. He swears he can feel electricity run through him when her hand makes contact with his. He has never experienced a feeling so strong like this before. He knew that love was dramatic but he didn’t think it was like this.
Reminding himself that this isn’t supposed to be happening, he clears his throat. “Okay well we have to go. Thank you for my phone, goodbye!” he says quickly, leaving the girl and his friends in complete confusion has he turns on his heel and starts to almost sprint in the opposite direction. The boys quickly follow him after offering a small wave to the girl, who returns it as she turns to walk away. 
“Jisung, you cannot possibly see her again” Hyunjin says once they finally catch up to him. And even though Jisung knows that, there’s something that is inevitably pulling him towards her.
When they finally make it back to heaven and Jisung gets home, he pulls his phone out to check his messages. To his shock, he finds a new contact added into his phone, with a photo of a girl who’s eyes remind him of galaxies.
Y/N, aka Café Girl
As you walk down the street, you smile feeling the warm sunshine on your shoulders. It may be the middle of February, but you seemed to be blessed with a particularly warm day. This day had been nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason you felt lighter, walking with a bounce in your step that you haven’t had in a long time.
Your mind wanders back to the boy you saw at the café not too long ago. His honey coloured hair shined under the artificial lights in the room, and his brown eyes reminding you of the warmest hot chocolate on a cold winter day. He hadn’t left your mind since the two of you made eye contact for the first time.
It’s been awhile since you’ve found someone that caught your interest so quickly. You never believed in love at first sight, but after today you just might be changing your mind. It seemed like fate that he left his cellphone on the table in the café, and it was definitely a risk that you had put your phone number in his contacts. You’ve never done something like that before, but something was telling you that you just needed to take the chance and make the first move. 
Eventually, days and then weeks pass, and you haven’t even received a text message from him. You feel a little disappointed every time you check your phone, hoping that you’ll see his number come up on your screen. You didn’t even know his name, nor when (or if) you’d ever get to see him again. You should’ve been prepared for the sinking feeling in your chest, but you had still been hopeful.
You still frequented the café, mainly because it was a calm and quiet place to work, but also because you were secretly hoping you’d run into him again-- you at least needed to learn his name. That’s all you could think about while you try to focus on your work, but to no avail. You decided to give yourself a break, letting your thoughts swirl with chocolate colored eyes.
 As your eyesight wanders the café, you hear the front door bell ring and you’re forced to meet eyes with the man that has lived in your head rent free for the past two weeks. You almost can’t believe it. He seems like he’s searching for something, or someone.
 As he looks around the room, you get nervous. You wonder if he’ll remember who you are, or maybe he’s already deleted your number and rejected you without even telling you? Maybe he already has a girlfriend? Maybe even a boyfriend? 
The thoughts running through your head completely distract your from the fact that he’s sat down in front of you. “Uhm..excuse me?” He says quietly, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you hear his voice. 
“Oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t scare you did I?” he asks, and you shake your head quickly. “No! No not at all. I, uh..hi,” you say with a light blush on your cheeks, and it makes Jisung’s heart soar to the sky. 
He’s definitely not used to feeling like this. He’s been trying to avoid it for the past few weeks, hoping that if he had ignored it these weird feelings would go away. He searched for hours and hours for a loophole in getting struck with a cupid’s arrow, but even hyunjin couldn’t find anything. 
After nights of tossing and turning while images of you danced through his head, he knew he needed to see you. He got lucky that you were at the café, this was the only place he had ever seen you so he was hoping he’d get to catch you here. 
“You never texted me, you know. Did you delete my number?” you asked him, feigning hurt. You saw his eyes go bigger as he tried to defend himself. “N-no! I definitely did not delete it. I was just so shocked that I didn’t know what to say...how did you even know the phone was mine?” He asked, laughing quietly. Jisung won’t lie, that was a pretty bold move. He was actually impressed once the initial shock had passed.
“Oh, I definitely wasn’t not staring at you across the room or anything and saw you on your phone. Definitely not,” you say with a flirty laugh, and it immediately sparks intrigue in Jisung.
 The line rolled off your lips so easily, and Jisung is convinced that it’s an effect from the arrow. “Oh, were you now? How did I not notice someone as pretty as you looking my way?” He asks, and his eyes go wide when he hears himself speak. 
What was that? All of this is so foreign to him, but when the blush on your cheeks gets a little darker he decides that maybe, just maybe, this will be worth the consequences he might face if Chan ever finds out about this.
“Listen,” he begins cautiously. “I have...a lot of things that I need to tell you. But let me start with this: How about I take you out on a date?”
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ohmyasmodeus · 4 years ago
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𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ☼
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first of all, @smolomon​, i hope you know that i would die for you. effective now. if you want me to take a bullet for you i seriously will, thank you so much !! and thank you for your patience, i know this request has been sitting in the drafts for a hot minute, but i really wanted to make sure my writing was top notch because this is one of the best requests i’ve received thus far. i hope you love this imagine as much as i do ♡
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳
✧   You never believe people when they say that heaven is a place on earth, but standing with Lucifer on a deserted train platform waiting for the train home, bathed in golden light… you think you finally understand. You can’t help but laugh softly at the irony. Lucifer had visited you in the human world and spent the entire day with you, and the date couldn’t have ended in a better way.
✧   “What is it, love?” Lucifer murmurs as he pulls you close with his arms around your waist. Here, neither of you have to worry about affecting his reputation, and he showers you in affection freely. The sunset’s light illuminates his face brilliantly, falling on his strong cheekbones and making his lashes appear golden.
“I’m going to miss you...” you sigh. You gently bring your hands up to cradle his face, watching as his eyes gleam a vibrant scarlet as the light hits them.
“I’ll be back before you know it. I promised to take you to that museum this weekend, didn’t I?” The smile Lucifer gives you— the overwhelming love and all the sweet promises behind that smile make your heart ache, and he starts to sway the both of you gently as he talks. “But… I’m going to miss you too, _______.”
And you know he will. Despite the distance between the both of you, despite the dignified front that he has to put on around people, Lucifer is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. You know it and you feel it in the way his breath catches in his throat when he marvels at how gorgeous you look in the light; the way he holds you close while watching the sun set past the city’s skyline, slowly casting the both of you in brilliant crimson and golden light. There is nothing that needs to be said between the both of you. Your train rushes into the platform, and the moment is over in the blink of an eye, but Lucifer hugs you tight one last time before letting you leave. His gloved hand runs down the length of your arm as he lets you go.
You want to watch him watch your train drive by, but the wistful look he gives you as you leave is too much to leave everything simply unsaid. You find yourself rushing back to him and nearly tackling him as you fall into his arms almost desperately, looking up at him as you clutch the front of his coat to say, “Kiss me, Lucifer.”
And he kisses you without hesitation; without consideration for the people around you, without the need to hide just how in love he is with you. His hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, wanting everyone on the platform to know that he is eternally yours.
Heaven is a place on earth; any place at all with Lucifer.
♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯
✧   hey, come over [received, 6:45pm]
✧   like rn [received, 6:46pm]
✧   Mammon seems disgruntled as you pull him onto the roof of your apartment building, and you have to hold in a laugh. You know your sudden text might’ve made him expect something completely different from being hustled onto a roof while holding a small stack of tupperware boxes.
“Oi, what am I! A slave?” Mammon whines as you direct him to set the boxes down on the floor. Crossing his arms, he pouts as he watches you set the picnic cloth down with a flourish, close to the barred railings of the rooftop. “Ya can’t just call me up and expect me to be at your every damn beck and call!”
“We have a pact, so I kind of can. Now shush and eat.” You pinch his cheek with a laugh, before pulling him down to have a seat with you. It’s obvious how much he missed you and continues to miss you every moment the two of you are apart, so even with his whining, you have to show him some love and lean your head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around your waist instinctively to keep you as close as he possibly can, even as he rolls his eyes and grumbles.
Like a painting, the pale blue sky slowly shifts to gentle hues of rose quartz and dandelion yellow, and Mammon is completely enraptured. Completely thrilled in his silence, he grins as he watches the sun sink behind the hills that frame your city. If it wasn’t for you bringing the spoon up to his lips every so often, he would’ve let his food go cold in its lonely tupperware box. You find yourself enraptured as well, enchanted by the way his eyes light up and eventually flick to gaze at you.
“Ya never get to see anything like this in the Devildom… Never thought I’d call humans lucky, but shit.” Mammon’s voice is quiet, as if speaking any louder would frighten the sunset off and make the moment disappear. “It’s beautiful.”
Your heart can’t contain itself, and you laugh softly as you lean into his side and feed him another spoonful. “Just like you.”
“That’s my line…” Mammon grumbles, but there isn’t a hint of heat behind his words. Instead, he takes off his jacket and drapes it across the both of you, settling into your warmth as the evening chill starts to set in. Eventually, you’ll manage to wiggle into his lap and talk about the deepest parts of yourselves while trying to count the stars, completely unafraid to be true; but for now, you give him a kiss and quietly watch the greatest sunset of your life with your favourite person in the world.
♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯
✧   Littered with reminders of him, your car is Leviathan’s favourite place to be. On days where you manage to wrangle him out of his room, he loves following you around as you run your errands in the human world and, much like a satisfied puppy, ends up waiting in the car with his Nintendo switch. (It makes you get the urge to place a sign on the door telling everyone that your snake of a boyfriend has the air conditioning turned on and has the window cracked open.)
✧   “Hey, look!” you say, trying to catch Levi’s attention. Aside from a noncommittal murmur from the demon that lays his head on your chest while the both of you snuggle in the backseat, your comment receives pretty much no acknowledgement whatsoever. You end up having to knee Levi to get him to look. “Babe, look out the window!”
Levi sighs, and sets his switch down on his chest. He shivers slightly in pleasure when you run a hand through his hair. “The sky’s just purple.”
“Just keep watching,” you tell him as you continue stroking his hair. Shades of lilac dominate the sky, fading off into a deeper royal shade struck through with bolts of gold that scatter throughout the clouds that pass. It all reminds you of him, the amount of charming personality he hides in the comfortable obscurity of his bedroom, the amount of secrets he reveals only to you. Levi watches in quiet contemplation that swiftly turns into fascination, especially when the stars start glimmering through the pale clouds.
“Woah!” he exclaims. “That’s so unreal! You guys get to watch stuff like this every day?”
“Most people don’t bother looking away from their screens for long enough to!” With a teasing laugh, you pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around his waist to snuggle closer into him.
“H-hey! Leave me alone!”
“I didn’t say I was talking about you! Are you admitting to something?” As Levi struggles in your grasp, you bury your face in his neck to blow raspberries that have him giggling, cheeks turning red as he tries to tickle you in return. You want to do this with him every night, you want to see him blush as you tease him… You want to give him all the affection you can, cuddled up in the backseat of your car for as long as he can stay in your arms.
♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯
✧   Soft grass tickles your skin and makes you smile, but what makes you smile the most is the way Satan tries to hide his blush with his book as you guide him to lay his head in your lap. The grass patch the pair of you settle into is a great change of pace from spending time trapped in the tomb-like library that Satan’s bedroom had become, and it’s all too easy to accidentally end up spending the entire day there together.
✧   “This is nice,” you hum, running your hand through Satan’s silky blond hair, ruffling it gently like the breeze ruffles the greenery that surrounds you. “I can actually breathe.”
“But at what cost…” Satan mumbles with a half-baked attempt at sounding dissatisfied. He blows away a cute bug that had found its way onto his leather bound book, which flits away, catching your eye with the way the fading sunlight catches on its gossamer wings. You fully know that Satan enjoys the setting as much as you do, and you kiss his forehead as you chuckle.
The time you spend with him is wonderful in its tranquility. The both of you understand each other, and understand that not all time needs to be spent talking. You revel in the quiet moments where his unspoken love washes over you with the way he holds your hand, or gazes at you quietly with a loving softness before returning to what he had been doing before. You love the way he loves you. You love the way he blushes when you show him any kind of affection, as if unused to the vulnerability of receiving genuine outspoken love.
The gilded light falls perfectly on Satan’s face, making his pale lashes look almost delicate while the sun sets before you. The sun slowly dips behind the rolling hills, and Satan gasps softly as he watches the shades of red set the sky ablaze behind sparse mist-like clouds.
“I’ve read about plenty of sunsets… but there are no words in any language that could capture something like this.” Satan’s voice is full of an innocent kind of wonder as he speaks, one that you have rarely heard him express. The many kinds of happiness that Satan expresses daily, though seemingly real, are all nuanced masks that the cynical demon skilfully applies— but the adorable crinkles under his eyes and the shamelessly wide grin makes it obvious that this is genuine happiness. He notices your silence and reaches a hand up to caress your cheek. “What are you thinking about, ______?”
“Just how I want to be like this forever with you.” You lean into his touch and lean down to kiss him with a radiant smile that matches his.
Satan manages to laugh softly this time, relaxing into the soft displays of affection with you, though his faint blush refuses to fade. “I think I’d like that.”
♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴
✧   Dates in the human world aren’t dates if they don’t include having dessert at the most stylish bistros in the city. Not to Asmodeus, at least, and you can understand. They might be expensive at times, but these cafes offer the best food for the both of you to feed each other over the table, and are perfect for a million different photo opportunities that help Asmodeus let everyone who follows him know that his life is so much better than theirs.
✧   Which is why you’re surprised to notice that not once has Asmo demanded your help in taking photos after the sun had begun to set. Through the wide windows of the bistro that you sit beside, the sunlight filters through in a mix of pale golds and pinks. It’s the perfect opportunity for yet another set of pictures, but Asmo just sits happily, chattering on and asking you questions about yourself while he sips his milkshake.
“But it’s so tacky, isn’t it! Like, stop involving yourself in drama and get a life!” Asmodeus huffs, and you could laugh at his hypocrisy.
“Ugh, you’re so cute.”
“I know.” Asmo winks and slides his hand over the one you rest on the table to gently hold it, resting his chin on his free hand as he gazes at the way the sunlight paints your skin in gorgeous crystalline shades. His amber eyes are akin to those of churchgoers that gaze up at stained glass depictions of the saints in their adoration. It makes you blush, the way he smiles at you like you are his entire world, and quietly takes in your beauty.
You laugh bashfully. “You feeling okay? You haven’t asked me to take pictures of you at all today.”
“We have all of eternity to keep taking pictures of me. I just wanted to focus on you today, ______.” Asmo’s voice softens as he says that, and he takes your hand to kiss your knuckles with complete devotion. “You’re beautiful.”
“Ah… you really think so?”
“I’ve never seen a sunset before, but as stunning as it is, it’s still nothing compared to you, love.” Asmo’s smile is as gentle as the warmth the sunlight makes you feel as it falls upon your skin, and the love he showers you with is so familiar in its all-encompassing glow. Despite his sin, you never have to fear not being enough for him. He reminds you of it in so many ways every single day, and it makes you blush and return his gentle smile. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
You can’t believe it either, and it makes you laugh quietly as you pull him by the collar into a sweet kiss over the cafe table, tasting the sugary sweet strawberry milkshake on his lips. It’s so him, and every little thing about Asmo just makes you crazier for him.
♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣
✧   The neon lights of the carnival are blinding, the laughter from having so much fun around your favourite person in the world making your stomach hurt, but you simply can’t stop. Especially not when Beelzebub carries you on his shoulders while running around the place and through the funhouses with childish glee. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you giggle and kiss his head, watching the sun slowly sink from the top of the world.
✧   Beel is trying to fix your hair at the end of it, sticking his tongue out in concentration while the both of you stand on the boardwalk, cooled by the seaside wind. It makes you giggle at him even more as you hold the cotton candy that you had bought to share.
“Where does your parting go again?” Beel mutters. “Left or right?”
“It’s fine, baby,” you chuckle, and tiptoe to kiss the tip of his tongue, resting your hand on his chest. It makes him give you a goofy smile around his tongue before he pulls it back in. You swear you feel your heart melt. “But thanks for trying.”
Under your hand, you feel Beel’s heart still wildly beating, and you’re not quite sure if it’s from the adrenaline of winning so many games and riding the rollercoasters, or if it’s from something else. You know that your heart is definitely still racing, but mostly because of the proximity between the both of you. The sun is setting past the horizon at this point, and you see it clearly slip halfway below the waves. The waves almost bleed crimson with the sky, and gold scatters across the waves as they crest over the horizon.
“______…” Beel’s voice is quiet in its awe. You feel his hand hold yours as he watches.
“Right?” You say, leaning into him. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” He’s almost too distracted by the sight to take a nibble of the cotton candy, but of course he does, and you smile at his courtesy. He always saves some of his food to share with you no matter how hungry he can be. “It’s just like you… You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met before. Special. And you’re really beautiful, too.”
“Even with my hair like this?” You can’t help but giggle some more. He always does this to you, makes you feel a lightness and a warmth that you’ve never felt before around anyone else.
Beel kisses your head, and then leans down to kiss you, smiling against your lips. You feel the sticky sugar of the cotton candy on his lips, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling into the kiss too.
“Even with your hair. No matter what you look like, I want to be yours.”
♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳
✧   You don’t know exactly what makes Belphegor visit you so much, considering the fact that he does the same thing in the human world that he does in the Devildom— sleep so much that he hardly pays attention to you.
✧   Complaining is easy, but you know that he can’t help it. Belphie tries to stay awake and do fun things with you when he can, and when he can’t, he’s always pulling you into bed so he can cuddle up with you and still dote on you in his own quiet way. You like that about him.
Belphie’s silky hair reflects the light that streams in through the windows, the faint orange and lilac hues dancing across him and casting shadows on the sheets, and you can’t help but press the softest kiss to his forehead.
“Wake up, Belphie,” you whisper. “Dinnertime.”
“Mm.” He shifts in the sheets and reluctantly opens his eyes with slow, sleepy blinks that make you want to shower him in all your love. Giving you a squeeze, he sighs and buries his face in your neck to hide from the light. With a bit of coaxing, you get him to sit up in bed with you, the both of you still swaddled in the comfortable covers as you lean into each other drowsily. Even in his sleepy state, you’re irresistible to Belphie. His hands wander slowly across your skin as he pulls you into him, the both of you quietly watching through the window as the sky turns brilliant shades of violet, the sun setting behind the buildings in the distance.
Belphie moves languidly. He rests his chin on your shoulder while mumbling, “Would you look at that.”
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” you sigh. “You’d get to see stuff like this more often if we actually went out when you visit.”
“Mm, but why would I go out if I could keep you all to myself here in bed?” Belphie’s voice is accompanied by his chuckling, and you can’t help but blush and nudge him with your elbow.
“You sound so gross.”
“You love it. You love me.” Belphie laughs and finds your hand to hold underneath the covers, and he holds you as close as he possibly can, nuzzling his face into your neck once more. You feel him leave the softest kisses on your skin as he intertwines your fingers in his. “...I love you, ______.”
Complaining is easy, until you’re reminded of moments like these with him, where life is simply too perfect to be real.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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thenextchapter22 · 4 years ago
Text
Angel of the Three Realms
Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.
Warnings: Unrequited Love, Angst, WIP
Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader
Word Count: 5334
Link to my AO3: Click Here
Author’s Notes: I’m pretty happy with how this story is going so far, and I really hope you enjoy reading it. I posted all the chapters I had written on AO3 here in one post, so expect a different post for the new chapter coming soon ;)
_+_
You had been in the Devildom for 6 months and it was going pretty well. You did above average in classes, got along with all of the brothers and the other students (although Solomon was strange and trusting him was a bit of a stretch). The only difficult part was being around one specific demon brother… Lucifer.
He had no idea who you really were. And how could he? It had been centuries upon centuries since he’d seen you, and he probably thought you dead after all that happened. He, in all probability, forgot all about you. That made you a little bit sad considering what he was to you.
Long before the Great War you had lived in the Celestial Realm. You were an Angel of God. A pure-hearted, innocent creature born with nothing but kindness in your heart. And the Angel assigned to you at your birth to train you and show you the way of the world was Lucifer Morningstar, the Light of the Heavens.
He brought you up. He was your whole life, always there to correct you if you were wrong, praise you when you were doing well, and he never failed in making you smile. Yes, you knew his brothers. Mammon especially, he was a good-hearted being who always protected you. And he did the same in the Devildom, so nothing had really changed there. But Lucifer was your main protector.
When you fell in love with him, you knew things would be difficult. How could you not fall in love with such a kind person, who always looked after you and his brothers, who always showed you so much attention despite what else he had to do?
It was forbidden for Angel’s to fall in love with other Angel’s. Why, you did not know. Love was something that should be allowed for all. It wasn’t easy living with this love, knowing if you let it free, that if you did tell Lucifer you loved him, you might be punished. Maybe even erased from existence. Your father wasn’t usually so cruel and hate wasn’t often found in Angels, but you hated him. You never wanted to hear him speak to you again. And so, with no way around it, you had to leave.
You fell to the Human world where you started a new life. And a new life again. And another new life after that. Always moving, changing, adapting. Humans were inventive and inquisitive by nature. You never lost the love in your heart for Lucifer, but you had a new life on Earth’s surface that you fell in love with, too. Eventually, this love favored the first, and you moved on, albeit regrettably. Occasionally you wondered how he was doing, and if he ever thought of you.
To say you were shocked when you first got dragged into this realm was an understatement. And you made the split second decision to go along with it all, pretending to be human. Was it stupid? Maybe. But you had spent so long being human, you couldn’t stop now. You knew of the war, you knew of the Angel’s falling to the Devildom, but seeing Lucifer, two wings less and darkened, ruby red eyes still as bright, and a curious black crystal on his forehead, was a shock. He was so beautiful in his new darkened form.
The love sprouted once more. And once more, you hid it. The pain in your heart was tenfold being close to him again in almost the same roles as before. He was your confident, your go-to in this Realm. He made sure you were treated well. Lucifer looked after you like his own blood, stricter than he used to be, and he looked tired most of the time. His newfound loyalty for Diavolo was strange, but you supposed it was a good thing being close to the eventual Demon King (where the current one was, no one knew).
Now, sitting in your quaint little room, looking at the sky, all you could think about was home. Home, the human world home.
One thing you missed was flying. In the Human realm you could visit the snowy mountains and fly around with some of the magic you were able to hold onto to cloak you in case humans saw. Before cameras you didn’t care to do that, but now you couldn’t risk it. Here it was impossible. Someone would sense the magic and find you out, and then what would happen. You didn’t want to think on it.
Another thing was your wings were itching. Grooming was hard throughout the years, but you found friends in the animals of the world, mostly the winged creatures. Owls were your closest friends in the animal kingdom. They helped pluck the old feathers as well as the twisted ones, and in turn you helped them however you could. Having not groomed them in almost 7 months now…
You longed to let them free, but could not. 6 more months and you would go back. But did you want to? Leave Lucifer, this place? You were learning so much from everyone. Lord Diavolo really wanted peace between all and it was incredible how he was connecting all types of beings. Demons, humans, warlocks, Angels.
Angels. Surprisingly, Simeon did not realize what you were. Or if he did, he never spoke up. Angels were pretty observant of other Celestial magics and you were using that to hide your wings daily and nightly here. At first it was only daily, up until Mammon barged into your room and demanded to sleep with you (not in that sense, thankfully) so you very quickly hid them. Lucky you hadn’t been asleep fully.
Wincing, you stretched your arms above your head. It was nearing midnight and you could not sleep from the pain that was ever growing the more you moved around. Maybe a late night snack would help, or something warm to drink.
Venturing to the kitchens, you were unsurprised to see Beel stacking a plate, his mouth stuffed with food.
He quickly swallowed and smiled at you. “Hi. It’s late, can’t sleep?”
You shook your head, smiling softly. “No, I thought I’d get something to eat or drink.”
Beel was so kind to you. You never had many interactions with him above, but when you saw him he always smiled and waved at you, his younger twin attached to his hand. They were inseparable. Nothing had changed with that. Only that Beel ate a lot, and Belphegor slept a lot. It was quite adorable.
“There’s some milk if you want to heat it up. I heard human’s do that to help them sleep. Or I could ask Belphie to help you?”
No, that wouldn’t be a good idea at all. Who knows what being put under by him would do, it may release the magic on your wings from too deep a slumber. “Thank you. I’ll try the milk first and then see.”
He nodded. “Okay. Night then. If I doesn’t work you can come to our room.” And he walked away with his plate of food, munching as he walked.
Chuckling, you shook your head. “Goodnight!” you called to his back.
The pain in your back was growing worse. Warm milk wouldn’t help much, you needed your wings to be freed. You grit your teeth as you moved about the kitchen, feeling the veil of magic rippling at your back. You set a pot of milk on the stove and heated it.
Moving about the kitchen was making you pant, and you had to brace your arms on the counter, keeping your back straight to try and keep the pain minimal.
“Hnng. Fuck.” Yes, in the human world you grew to love curse words. Your father never took your wings away or your immortality, so he must not have cared. Or maybe he didn’t notice.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Lucifer’s voice rang out in the echoed kitchen.
You stood up so quickly the pain was incredible. You felt your body tremble, and you longed to sprout your wings to ease some of the aching.
Lucifer wrapped his arm around your waist, and you held in a scream. He furrowed his brows and let go, instead taking your hand and squeezing it. “What can I do to ease your pain?”
You panted. “N-nothing. Please just g-go.”
He shook his head. “No, I won’t leave you like this. What ails you?”
Damn him and his kind heart. “You can’t fix it, I just have to deal with the pain for now.”
He helped you sit, but you did so stiffly and kept a perfectly straight posture. His hand never left yours. “I won’t accept that. There must be something we can do. Tell me what happened. Did you fall? Are you ill?” He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, then down across your cheeks. “You have no fever but your face is contorted in pain.”
This was unbearable, having him coddle you when all you wanted was to jump into his arms and have him take care of you. He used to groom your wings when you were growing up, and he showed you how to do the same. His gentle fingers running through your feathers put you in a trance and he used to tease you about it.
Lucifer only wanted to see you well. The problem was, you could not allow it, lest he find out your secret. “I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you whispered. “Really I am. If I could let you help me, I would in a heartbeat.”
The pot with milk was over boiling now, and he quickly stood the take care of it. You lowered your face to the table and grit your teeth, sharp pricks at your back causing spasm after spasm. Tears fell from your eyes. The pain was steadily increasing, and you did not know why the timing of this had to be this way. Why he had to be the one to see you in such a state.
His hand on your shoulder squeezed lightly once before letting go. “Let me at least help you to bed.”
Bed, yes, that sounded fantastic. “Okay…”
He held your hand and kept one hand wrapped around your lower half, resting on your hip. It wasn’t near the area where your wings sprouted from so he could place his arm across you there without making you cry out in pain.
The trip back to your room was long and grueling. Lucifer kept a good hold on you, whispering softly each time you sobbed out a curse word or cried.
“I have you, sweetheart, take your time.”
You wished you could just tell him everything. How you were not human, why you were in so much pain, that all you ever wanted was to kiss and hold him and express your love. But you could only press you cheek to his chest and have him guide you to your room where he tucked you under the sheets and comforter.
You curled on your side, gazing at his dark figure towering over you. “Don’t leave me, stay…”
“I’ll stay with you, I promise.” He stroked his fingers over your trembling brow, and, with shock on your pained expression, he kissed the very same place gently, lips soft and warm.
You began to cry, overwhelmed with pain and emotion. He shushed your cries and wiped away the wetness under your eyes. “Don’t cry, my dove, just sleep and rest.”
Lucifer’s kind face, hovering inches from your own, was the last you saw before you fell asleep. The pain luring you into a dreamless slumber.
Waking up some hours later, you felt exhausted. The sun was rising through the window. Sweat gathered on your body. It was apparent what would happen the second you became aware. You had trouble keeping the magic holding your wings in. You shut your eyes with a sigh, and succumbed to the feeling of letting it all go. The choice was no longer your own, the magic was leaving you, and the wings you kept concealed away would burst free any minute.
They would all know. And you only hoped they wouldn’t despise you for what you hid from them. You prayed for the first time since falling from the skies that Lucifer would forgive you.
_+_
Lying in bed, coated in cooled sweat, waiting for the inevitable to happen, was honestly one of the worst things you had experienced. Considering you had chosen to fall from Heaven, that said a lot. It was right up there with loving Lucifer and not having the ability to tell him lest you be cast out or killed, and with the first days you had on the surface world where you had been so lost and alone, scrambling from town to town trying to find a place to belong.
The agony suffocated you. It effected your breathing, which was staggered and strained, and your muscles were tense. You felt a fever building inside of you as you tried to hold on and not go into shock. Your magic was like a thin sheet of breakable glass waiting to shatter. With all your strength, which was not much, you grasped onto it, wanting to keep normal for even just a little longer.
You shivered as you watched the sun rise higher in the window above your bed. It was red and bright and large, blinding you, but it kept you focused on one thing instead of being reminded of what would happen in the next hours, or even minutes.
The secrets would be out for all to see. You would either be cast out of the Devildom, possibly struck down by Diavolo for your lies, or maybe Barbatos would erase you from time itself. The thought was terrifying.
The only people you knew who wouldn’t hurt you or despise you were Simeon and Luke, and that was only because they were Angels. The possibility they would hate you was 1 in a million.
You moved to lay on your stomach. Slowly but surely you found a position that wasn’t too excruciating. Now you just waited. Time wasn’t something you looked at, even with the clock right there on your bedside table. It must’ve been time for everyone to be heading to breakfast by now. Lucifer would probably come to check on you as he had put you to bed last night. But you wondered who would see you first, and how they would react.
The magic was rippling, shaking around you. If you let it go voluntarily or not it would be the same result either way. Maybe if you had just let it go a few nights ago it wouldn’t have been so bad. But it was too late to dwell on the past.
Celestial magic exploded around you, and your wings burst from your back. You screamed, fingers clutching the pillow you pressed your face into. Your head spun, and your wings felt like the most fragile part of you, as if it was the first time they had been free. There was a scent of your blood in the air along with the scent of Celestial magic, a bitter coppery smell with a hint of cool air and crackling lightning. White feathers scattered around you, some tinged with blood. The air was like static electricity. Your wings lay limp, cascading down the bed to the floor. Tears filled your eyes, and you were sure you bit your tongue.
“Nnnggg…” you groaned, keeping still so as not to cause any more pain.
You had no idea how long you lay there. Twitching occasionally, throat clenched and burning. Eventually frantic knocks came on your door, and although your ears were ringing you heard the demon brothers’ voices asking for you, making sure you were okay, wondering what had happened. Why they couldn’t get in was strange, until you realized your magic had exploded outward and created a barrier that blocked the door.
“Move so I can open the door.” Lucifer. He sounded angry.
His infernal magic pressed to your own, and his power was greater than yours so it took no time at all for the door to fall.
You blearily glanced to the open doorway, the door flat on the floor broken off the hinges. And there he stood in all his demon glory. Light bringer Morningstar reversed, dark energy radiated from him. You watched as a smoky fog emerged from the diamond on his forehead. Was this the source of his power, where he held all his magic? The other’s stood behind him in a bundle, all in demonic forms, and all with shocked expressions at seeing you as you truly were meant to be. An Angel, albeit a broken one.
“H-how—?” Lucifer stepped in further, confused and wary. He glanced at your bent and bloodied wings, and then at your face. Searching for something, an answer maybe. You knew that there was no halo, that was something that disappeared as soon as you fell, but your skin was most likely changed, glowing with the light of Heaven, and your eyes no doubt were brightened as well. “How is this possible?”
You shut your eyes, your body shutting down. You couldn’t keep awake, it was as if the energy in your body was totally gone.
Your last words before you passed out were spoken softly and only towards one person. “I’m sorry…”
Darkness took you away, and you floated into it, happy to finally escape the pain.
_+_
Burning, you were burning when you came to. Did they shove you into the flames of Hell? Was this the repercussion you truly deserved for all the lies? It was harsh, but there was nothing you could do but burn.
Whimpering, you tried to move but a force held you down, a cool sensation on the back of your neck. You cried out, afraid of what would happen next.
“Shh. Your safe, calm down. It’ll be all right.”
Simeon? “Wh-what?” your throat ached, it was so dry. You tried to focus, and felt no flames licking at your skin, but a cushioned bed beneath you, where you lay on your stomach. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt glued shut from tears that dried up.
“Here, you need to drink water.”
A straw pressed to your lips, and you sucked in the refreshing liquid. Swallowing was hard to do, but the cooling feeling overtook the pain.
His hand was a cool on your forehead, you sighed in the brief relief of the heat. “You have a high fever. You need to rest some more.”
You trembled. “They hate me, don’t they?” the words were hard to speak, but you had to ask.
He hushed you once again, stroking your hair. “Just sleep now. When you’re well again we will talk.”
So you went back to your dreams, or rather, the nightmares that plagued you. Memories turned dark and evil, some of your time on Earth with friends, others of your time with Lucifer in Heaven. All happy memories that were altered to fill you with nothing but pain.
Your first day of flying, Lucifer cheering you on, clapping and smiling as you floated higher. Then, you fell, and kept falling down and down despite how strongly you flapped your wings. Lucifer was never coming for you, never reaching a hand to pull you back to him and into his arms. You ended up in a dark hole with nothing but bones around you of your once human friends. They die so quickly, humans. You were always alone. Meant to be alone forever. Never able to love and live with that love for the entirety of your lifespan, for it always faded and died. The only true everlasting love you had in your heart was never meant to be.
Voices sporadically came and went as you tossed in your dreamland.
Simeon. “She’s not doing too well. I’ll try my very best to heal her but holding this in for so long was not good for her health. Her wings are… in absolute disarray.”
Lucifer. “Why did she lie to me?”
Asmodeus. “She looks so pale and fragile. Poor thing.”
Mammon. “I remember her... we always looked out for each other. She was always so happy to be around you, Lucifer.”
You heard them speaking and longed to respond back, but you couldn’t find a voice. Drifting in and out, hearing voices, feeling soft touches on your skin and cool hands on your wings. There were moments of sharp pain sometimes when the fingers pressed to the spot where your wings sprouted from, but you were always quickly given a remedy of healing magic from Simeon’s talented hands. But you just wanted this to end and for the suffering to be done with.
It was many days later that you opened your eyes. Like a newborn for the first time, wincing at the bright lights of the room, struggling to focus. Glancing around, it was obvious that this was not your room. It was larger, with tall ceilings, and this bed was huge, your wings barely touched the floor compared to the bed at the House of Lamentation. Where were you?
“You’re in my home.”
You turned your head, still in a position on your stomach. It was Lord Diavolo. He was alone, strange as he usually had Barbatos with him. He wore his usual red suit, but his arms were crossed and he watched you with concern in his bright golden eyes.
You tried to move, to sit up and be a little bit respectful of the Prince, but he quickly strode to you and placed his large hand on your head gently. You froze. “No, don’t try and move. You’re still recovering.”
“I-I don’t—”
He sighed, and pulled a chair to sit next to you, careful of your drooping wings. He gestured to a pitcher of water on the side table. “Are you thirsty?”
You nodded shyly. He helped you drink some water with a hand lifting your head. You were sure you were blushing from feeling the demon Prince’s touch so delicately on your cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked at you for a moment, and sighed, his eyes downcast and thoughtful. “This is an interesting circumstance we are in.”
You swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.”
He frowned. “My dear, all you did was hurt everyone.”
You winced. He spoke bluntly, and the truth, but it hurt a lot to hear it from his lips.
“Lucifer told me who you are. He thought you dead long ago. He was your mentor in the Celestial realm, correct?” You nodded slowly. “Why did you leave there to pretend to be human? He told me you were always so… cheerful. That you both were practically inseparable. The brother’s tell me the same. So why leave all that behind?”
You couldn’t answer him. He just sighed again. “I see. Well, I suppose that will be a conversation once you are fully healed. For now, I’ll have Simeon tend to you now that you’re awake.” He stood up and looked down at you. Diavolo’s gaze seemed to pierce right through your very soul. “Perhaps you will tell me more… or perhaps not. Only time will tell, I suppose. Rest well, my dear. We will speak again soon.” And his footsteps echoed the large room as he left, and you were alone with your thoughts.
What did he want from you? Would he let this be? Would he allow you to stay here? Doubtful, as it was an exchange program for humans and Angels, and you were one of two humans. And were you really counted as either, or both? Were you some strange hybrid being to them, because you lived under the guise of being a human?
There was one question that haunted over you ever since you felt your magic faltering. Would Diavolo take you away from the one place you truly felt at home?
_+_
You felt deflated when Simeon entered the room. Lord Diavolo made you worrisome for what would next happen, or at least what would happen once you were healed again. You found yourself avoiding the Angel’s eyes as he looked at you from his seat on the chair Diavolo just was in.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
You blinked at him, and licked your dry lips. “Sore. Tired.”
He nodded, his hands waving over your upper body, a soft glow emanating from his fingers. “Your feathers are a right mess, darling. Will you allow me to help?”
Help with your wings? You knew what he meant by that, and the question wasn’t startling as you knew it would come considering the damage your magic had done. But this was a very personal thing, letting others groom your wings. You only ever allowed one person to touch your wings: Lucifer. Outside of the creatures on Earth, that is, but they were only animals and it didn’t have as much meaning to you.
There was something inside of you that spoke a loud and firm denial, that no one’s hands would pluck your broken feathers unless those hands belonged to Lucifer Morningstar.
“I-I can’t…”
He sighed, and his gentle hand stroked up and down your exposed arm. “It has to be done. Tell me, then, who will you let help you?”
You felt burning tears fall down to drop onto the pillow. “H-he w-won’t…”
Simeon hummed. “He won’t, hm? I can take one guess as to who that person is. And he’s been so worried for you he has barely slept a wink, pacing the palace floors at all hours, and questioning me constantly on how your health has been.”
You perked up, sniffling. “H-he has?”
Simeon smiled kindly, and his healing magic coursed over your back, soothing the pinpricks of pain caused by your movements. “Lucifer cares about you. I may not have been around him as much since his fall from Heaven but I can tell he never stopped caring for you, my dear.”
“He forgot about me.” You said so dejectedly. If he hadn’t, he would have recalled your face the second you appeared in the Devildom, as the only thing that was different was you had no wings, halo, or heavenly glow around you.
“Dear, we all thought you dead. I assumed your soul was wondering the skies. I am truly sorry I never searched for you to make certain of that.”
Simeon wasn’t present like Lucifer was for you in the Celestial Realm, but he did watch over you when Lucifer could not. It was rare, but it did happen. You occasionally saw him floating around the sky doing work for Michael and your father, but mostly he wasn’t a part of your world, not like Lucifer or his brothers.
“Simeon,” you whispered. “He hates me. Don’t lie to me.”
The Angel’s light was blinding, and his true form revealed itself. You gasped in shock at the sight, it had been quite a while since you had seen any other Angel this way.
He had stunningly pure white wings that expanded outwards behind him, and his blue eyes shimmered like a bright burning star. The halo hovering above his head would cut anything that it touched, a perfect circle of glittering gold, showing his status in Heaven as one of High Regard. His dark skin was encased in an outline of magic so pure it stung your eyes as you hadn’t seen anything like it in so long. He was fierce looking, and yet not, being a creature of pure light. Simeon was as old as Lucifer, if not a bit older even, and he held strength like no one else.
He spoke with authority in his kind voice, booming almost in your ears. “I will never lie to you, nor to any other being. Hear my words because they are the wholesome truth. Lucifer will always have a place in his heart for you even though he has been brought to this darker world.”
You shook from the might in his words. He brought tears to your eyes from the power he spoke with. “Simeon…”
He cupped your cheek, the warmth shocking and overwhelming, his thumb caressing under your eye. He spoke softer, then. “Dear one, if you’ll allow me to I’ll bring Lucifer here to help you. Please let me do this for you. I don’t like seeing such a kind soul in so much pain.”
You pushed into his hand, craving the touch. His words put you under a spell and you couldn’t help but think, maybe he was right. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have Lucifer here. Would it be like old times? You thought not, so much had changed. But you couldn’t deny the pounding in your heart that said you had to see him, and the truth that you really had no choice that if you wanted to heal, you had to have him aid you.
“Okay,” you answered softly.
He held your cheek for a moment longer, and you felt his magic cascade over you like a protective blanket. “I shall return soon with Lucifer. Keep still until then, your wings should not move lest they become more tangled. Don’t move, do you understand?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Good girl. I’ll be back shortly. If you need me for anything, just call for me. I’ll hear you.”
He meant a prayer. He wanted you to pray for his help. You could not recall the last time a prayer had actually worked for you. Father had forgotten you, Lucifer had forgotten you… Praying was a waste of time.
The seconds ticked by. You let your mind wander to what-ifs, even though it hurt. What if Lucifer was so angry at you that he would take one look at your battered body and leave? What if Lucifer didn’t care for you like Simeon said, and instead hated you so much his magic would tear you apart? What if Lucifer, instead of plucking your feathers, he tore your wings from your body in a rage? These might have been insane imaginings, but they were not impossible. Lucifer had been a demon for a long, long time, and it was true he was still caring towards you while you acted human, but how would he react now? There was no way to know for sure.
Yes, he was your protector above. He was your everything; your father, your confidant, your friend, and your heart longed for him to be your lover.
Now he was something else to you. Still he looked out for you, kept you safe from other demons (not knowing you could if needed use your celestial magic on any who meant you harm), and he made sure you did well in RAD, and he, along with his brothers, thought of you as family. It was all you wanted, after years of searching for something to have as your very own.
Would it all disappear?
The door to the bedroom opened slowly, and you heard Simeon speak. “She’s exhausted emotionally and physically. Please, do what you can to make her well. She needs you.”
He entered the room. It was silent, and he didn’t move, simply watching you from where he stood before the shut door.
So you spoke for him. “Hello, Lucifer.”
Heels clacked and eventually he stood at your bedside. What an imposing figure he made. He looked at you with deep dark red eyes, near black at the pupils, and a massive aura of magic erupted around him. It wasn’t frightening, it wasn’t overpowering or dark. It was just… him.
He reached a hand to touch your hair, smoothing it back from your face to really look at you. “Hello, my dove.”
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dog-day-morning · 3 years ago
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The word of God tells us we shall suffer for the cause of Christ, he who seeks a greater reward must attain a greater faith. Unto whom much is given that much more is required. You wanna eat that whole caramel cake, you crave that sweet tea, you pursue that woman in a nightclub hoping to get her in a compromised position, face down tail up because face it, we're not willing to bow down to the will of God, but we’re so happy, and ready to give in to that round mound of doo doo brown. The 3 Hebrew boys Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego went into the fiery furnace defying Nebuchadnezzar's declaration to worship him. These men had the inspiration, strength, and courage to say, even if He doesn't deliver us, we know that He can. That kind of faith is called perfected faith. We can be lazy because we refuse to work with what God gave us before the day of calamity comes to devour us. Tribulation is kicking into high gear, and many of God’s people are none the wiser. There are people who were working 3 jobs before, and after this pandemic became a global concern who know what is on the horizon. You don't need an Issachar spirit to discern the times; read the Bible. He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘A shower is coming.’ And so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat,’ and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? The gov't has pulled back on unemployment benefits forcing many to find a job. The 2 righteous servants in the parable of the 3 servants increased the wealth of their employer who trusted 3 men with different amounts of talents [money], and the 1 who didn't work diligently for his master inherited weeping, and gnashing of teeth. God invested in us, and He expected a greater return from this major investment. Jesus was the greatest financial venture ever made. The Father placed His faith in His Son who in turn gave Him many more sons that walk amongst us waiting for the Day of Judgment. This investment which supersedes all, but are intertwined will never decrease, and forever increase. The 144,000 isn't a spiritually inspired interpretation based on mine, and Mima getting the Holy Ghost or having an encounter with the Holy Spirit to speak in tongues. Sit down grandma, your Depends are leaking brown stuff that reeks of formaldehyde, and raw chitlins. God is looking for a righteous Nation to worship Him not themselves. These men, and boys who represent the 12 tribes of Israel have never been defiled by women, and hopefully not by men either. You lucky mother You can take the word literally or as a misinterpretation. Those who don't believe in the written word who believe that God's word isn't infallible aren't all to blame for this heresy. Those who originally interpreted the King James Bible added to, and took from are suffering for a misleading interpretation. The prophetic which God didn't let man corrupt altogether has pretty much played out verbatim. We may be dying to a world that is trying to kill our faith that God has no intention of doing until He finds His true worshippers, and He’ll never destroy one's faith in Him. Winter is coming and you and I must be prepared. We must live like today is our last without being caught up in fear. I'm suffering from a form of laziness called jackass. God shall supply all your needs, but faith without works is dead. The ant has the intuition to work throughout the Summer knowing that Winter is coming. A lot of these drones won't live to see the finished product. Ant mounds look like the Pyramids of Giza that secure the Queen, but where is the King? They serve the one who gives life that sustains the colony, she is their goddess, but what happens if the Queen dies? There's more than one Queen serving the colony who can breed an entire colony independent of one other. fulfilling their role while working together in unison with the others who all serve a greater purpose. This
is a major element that drives the Kingdome of heaven. Christ is just like His Father In the Kingdome that includes the Holy Spirit which they will pour upon all flesh again soon. There are no cowards or sinners in the Kingdome. The angels are not as drones, they are blessed warriors.
Revelation 21:8
8 But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.
1 Corinthians 6:8-10
8 Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren.
9 Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind,
10 Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.
Alkebulan we need to wake up and get right. Black American's of the tribes of Judah, Gad, Reuben, and Issachar you need to aim at my forehead, and scatter my scatter brained grey matter all over the pavement. When Joe Biden told a radio podcaster if you don't vote for me you're not Black, he must be color blind. This vaccine that suspiciously looks like the Mark of Whodunnit. They can plant a microchip in your arm that can track your every move, financial transaction, and possibly your dreams while you sleep. Some Walmart stores are refusing to take cash when you check out; they only take debit, and credit cards. These are signs that we’re living in the End Times. The Last Days. I'm looking at this as a sign to get the hell outta this city, and decompose. What in God's name am I afraid of? Jesus took a beat down like a man on a mission.. You're not weak or simping if you gave your life for a people you fed, healed, gave sight to, preached to, taught them a new way to live, pray, love, told them about a Kingdome greater than Jerusalem, and you didn't kill anybody in the process knowing what they were going to do to your physical body in an almost retarded like bid to destroy their salvation. I've done none of that; my bad. Stop looking for men, especially zaddy to deliver us. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Some of us foolheartedly called Bill Clinton the first Black president when he's not, never can, or will be to me in any sense, Barack wasn't either. Thomas Jefferson, the third elected president, who served two terms between 1801 and 1809 was described as the “son of a half-breed Indian squaw (Black) and a Virginia mulatto father (Black).” Abraham Lincoln, the nation’s 16th president, served between 1861, and 1865. Lincoln had very dark skin, and coarse hair and his mother allegedly came from an Ethiopian tribe. His heritage fueled so much controversy that Lincoln was nicknamed “Abraham Africanus the First” by his presidential opponents and cartoons were drawn depicting him as a Negro. Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Dwight David Eisenhower, and the scourge of the South Andrew Jackson were all n**gahs. I’ll see you come Hanukkah you self-hating black, Uncle Ruckus’s. I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, why should I be overjoyed about the genocide, and enslavement of God's people? Christmas is what it is. Hopefully you will celebrate this holiday season together fulfilling God's prophetic word. I can't unless you kill me. The Christmas holiday is as pagan as Joel Osteen is at scamming. David Duke, you might wanna go to ancestry.com, and take a DNA test. You might be 30% Swahili. By the looks of those big, gorilla nostrals you had before that rhinoplasty. You, and Bull Connor may be related to Idi Amin. Your biggest shame is your greatest blessing. Personally you can kiss the skid marks in the middle of my skid marks after I take a fresh dump. Conservative, political pundits, and wannabes whose names I won't mention, but one in particular who looks like he smoked 23 blunts in 15min. with no filter. Please keep him in California, and let him drown with his zaddy, and pancaked tail, bowed hipped women. Use your lips as a floatation device dude. These people are ashamed of the God who has blessed many, and plenty. These people suffer, hopefully not always, from the white savior or white zaddy complex. The truth isn't in any of them, that's why they're so adept at lying when making bold-faced statements before the public that opposes their previous opinion like people don’t have YouTube or google. I’ll Bing a factoid or Yahoo that mother to get the truth I may even pay for it, gimme a dollar. My inability to walk amongst men as a man has stagnated my propensity to live That's BS, my Apostle said something this past Sunday that's stuck on my forehead. YOU'RE LAZY!!! I am what I am, a pain in the rear end. This has gone on way too long. Sometimes
I feel as though God wants me to kill myself because the PO PO won’t. I would feel better if my natural family would stab me in the neck, not my back, with a piece of diseased, pork, spare rib from a boar hog, and let me die from a rare form of trichinosis. The people have spoken while I’m playing Jay, and Silent Bob. Father, get me outta here. Elohim, 9/16/2021
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