#analyzing scripture

[xuciferous]

the bible literally describes god as a man who wants to invite other men into a fellowship with himself because he has an overabundance of love. like. omg why are you. as a man

[crimexandxpunishment]

As of late, I find myself envying the age of beginning youthful adolescence. At the edge of the rugged cliff called “adulthood” where I now stand preparing for my descent into a world anew. Unsullied by previous attachments or perceptions. However, I wonder…is it a mourning of the years gone by? Wasted socialization, stagnant causes, jaunty joys gone sour, and an ultimate decision of isolation. Even if such choice of isolation is of my free will and the benefits override emotional causations in the end, was the path towards light worth wandering in the darkness? Do I mourn the forsaken past, or do I mourn the time itself depleting? Only if I could retrace my steps and start anew till I receive a badge inscribed “you have completed this task 100%”. Yet…I will never achieve that hundred and never have the chance to again. 

[mindfulldsliving]

Responding to Michelle Grim's Criticism: Brigham Young, Divine Inspiration, and Logical Fallacies

Brigham Young, by John Mulvany Critics often misrepresent Brigham Young’s words, turning powerful teachings into points of contention. Recently, Michelle Grim’s post at Life After Ministry questioned Brigham’s claim of reading thoughts, sparking confusion among readers. But was this really a claim of supernatural power? Just imagine listening to this all those years ago. Do you just accept it…

[nonegenderleftpain]

If you say that religion must be studied in the context of how it is practiced, let me tell you as a practicing Jew that it is not widely practiced to believe in hell, and definitely not to teach children about it. Yes, Gehenna is mentioned in Talmud, and there is a lot of discussion about what that means that isn't for goyim to interpret for us. We do not have hellish iconography, we do not discuss it in sermons. Judaism is about doing right by people in the here and now, and the afterlife - good or bad - isn't really part of that. Because some small sects do interpret Gehenna as literal and not metaphorical does not mean that Judaism as a whole is practiced that way. The belief in hell is exceptional, in Judaism, not one of the primary, de-facto ways our religion is practiced.

my most antitheist opinion is that hell is like. a cartoonishly evil thing to believe in and insanely abusive to teach children about

[hoonieyun]

his deepest desire 𓆩♱𓆪

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader genre: angel!jake x angel!reader, romantic tension, angst, religious themes, yearner!jake, silent admirer!yn, outcast!jake warnings: profanity, major character death, jake is corrupted by his desires, kissing, 18+

synopsis: a life as an angel isn't what it's cut out to be. jake often found himself questioning whether or not this was everything heaven had to offer and he couldn't help but let his desires fester the more he yearns for something greater than what he had.

wc: 5395

“please.. i’ll do anything, just– please. just stop all of this.” 

the pleads of the angel aren’t anything but music to the darkness’ ears. the darkness knew this is how everything would play out in the end and the darkness didn’t do anything to stop it. the darkness encouraged it, enabled it, promised it. 

the angel didn’t know this is what would happen. 

and now it’s too late. 

𓆩♱𓆪

“what do you think the humans do down there?” jaeyun asks as the two of you lay next to each other, eyes looking up at the vast whiteness that surrounded you. as angels, you’re often tasked with different responsibilities like looking after humans as guardians, working alongside the higher order, but most common; a lot of angels were just angels– no direction or specific purpose. they just lived their lives like humans do but with greater restrictions. 

“i’m not sure– you know, jaeyun. you have a real interest in humans. what do you find so interesting about them anyway?” you ask, turning to your side so you could look at him. you can see jaeyun swallow as his neck slightly bobs, he blinks a few times before turning towards you, resting his hand on his propped up elbow. 

jaeyun hums unsurely with a pout. he’s never understood why he had this fascination with humans. he liked to observe them, albeit he wasn’t a guardian angel of sorts, but he liked to study them. understand their habits and behaviors; he even found himself mimicking some of their actions once but immediately stopped when you questioned his new behavior. 

the two of you were just regular angels. you used to be a guardian angel but you couldn’t bear being assigned to a human because they never grasped the concept of living thoroughly. as an angel, you’ve been alive for thousands of years; have seen the change of humanity through all of history and you couldn’t stand seeing how badly they’ve treated each other. you were only a guardian to one person before you begged the angels of the higher order to reassign you to something else, eventually just being a normal angel– but you didn’t mind it. 

you and jaeyun met on your first day after the end of being a guardian angel, he had told you that he was quite jealous because he wanted to be one and as hard and often he pleaded with the angels of the higher order, they simply told him that he wasn’t a great fit. they never explained what they meant by but jaeyun tried his best not to be offended. 

he was a generally curious person, always wanting to know the why behind the how; but lately his curiosities have gotten him in situations that he shouldn’t be in. jaeyun had recently been reprimanded for snooping in the grand hall library. it was a vast space filled with different books, scrolls, and scriptures of every moment in history about humans and angels alike. 

thankfully he was just left with a slap on the wrist but that didn’t stop jaeyun from wanting to know more and more. he just couldn’t help it. 

“you’ve really got to stop sneaking around to try to find answers to questions you don’t have jaeyun. you’re lucky they left you off with a warning but you shouldn’t push until you figure out what punishment they’ll have in store for you.” you warned him, nibbling on your bottom lip as you watch jaeyun, analyzing his face for his reaction. 

his face is somewhat stoic but you can tell he’s thinking about something. you just aren’t sure what could be going on in that head of his. you never really know. 

you’ve been friends for a few years now, many of the angels often confuse the two of you as lovers but as nice as that sounds to you, jaeyun has never shown you interest in that way. your stolen glances, shy smiles paired with blushing cheeks often go unnoticed by jaeyun. you aren’t sure if anything would ever blossom between the two of you romantically, but you’re content with just being his friend as long as you’re by his side. 

“come on, supper will start soon and we don’t wanna be late. i know how much you like the fresh bread they have.” you say, standing up and dusting off your white dress. you reach out a hand to help jaeyun up and he stares at you momentarily. you blink at him as he takes in your features. had you always been this beautiful?

how had he not noticed before? 

jaeyun smiles at you as he takes your hand in his, a slight groan slips from your lips as you help pull him off the ground even though he’s completely capable of doing it himself. the small interaction between the two of you sends electricity shooting through your body when jaeyun stands up on his two feet and slightly stumbles, causing the two of your bodies to gently collide together. 

you look up at him like he’s got everything you need in his eyes. the moment is still and quiet, like the two of you were captured in the frame of a painting. 

“we– we should go.” you whisper and jaeyun nods, moving first as his hand slips from your waist. the touch of his hands still lingering on your body. 

𓆩♱𓆪 

jaeyun often wondered if this was it. he had long grown tired of his usual routine as an angel. he’d wake up, greet the other angels that lived in his district, he’d meet up with you, then repeat it all over again. he was honestly grateful to have met you because before that he probably would’ve gouged his own eyes out from boredom. at least with you he had someone he could spill his curiosities to. someone he could share his ideas and wonders; you never judged him for it either. 

sometimes you’d look at him with a puzzled expression, one that he found cute, but he knew it was because you just didn’t know as much as he did. jaeyun prided himself for his knowledge which is why he had a natural ache to learn more, to ask questions, and to find answers. 

it wasn’t until just a few months ago when he managed to sneak into the grand hall library where he spent hours looking through different historical pieces of writing that only made him more and more curious. he would pair what he had learned from the worn down books to the way he’s observed humans and create connections between the two. it was all so magical to him and fed his desire to want more. 

this couldn’t be all that heaven had to offer. the way angels and heaven were spoken about by humans and with the ink on paper through history; jaeyun knew there was more and he made sure to look for it. whatever it was. 

“hey, do you wanna go to the north quarters? jongseong and sunghoon will be there.” 

jaeyun looks at you with furrowed brows, since when did you start talking to jongseong and sunghoon? he thought you were his one and only friend. 

“jongseong and sunghoon?” he asks, voice low. 

you nodded in response, telling him that you started to learn the harp from jongseong and sunghoon’s always there because the two boys were practically connected at the hip. jaeyun hums in response and tells you that he’s actually got something to do. 

“okay, then.. have fun. i’ll see you at supper.” 

“yn. wait.. just be careful around those guys ok?”

“there isn’t anything to be worried about jaeyun, but thank you. you be careful too, ok? no more sneaking into the grand hall.” you joked, jaeyun laughing at your joke as he waves you off. your figure getting smaller and smaller as you walked towards your destination. 

there was something inside of jaeyun that changed after that conversation. he didn’t know why but the idea of you being around other angels, specifically male angels, made his heart beat louder. his breathing quicker and he seemed to have an unidentifiable emotion brewing inside of him. 

was it jealousy? 

rage? 

he doesn’t know but he was going to make sure that you don’t slip away. 

𓆩♱𓆪  

“yn? you ok? you’ve been zoning out since you got here.” jay mumbles, pausing the strings of the harp he’s playing. sunghoon looks up at the two of you from his position in the corner of the room. both boys waiting for your response. 

“sorry, i just– there’s a lot on my mind, i guess.” you mutter and they encourage you to keep going. your friendship with them was fairly new and they hadn’t given you any reason to not trust them. they were both very kind and had pure hearts. 

you tell them that jaeyun’s been acting weird. compared to his usual curious nature that would lead him to exploring things he shouldn’t– there was just something different about him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it but there seemed to be a specific force inside of him that was bringing him to untouched corners that remain untouched for a specific reason. 

like he had a desire inside of him that you hadn’t seen anywhere else besides the inside of a human that was led down the wrong path. 

“but please don’t tell anyone. i’m probably just thinking too hard. i’m sure jaeyun is fine.” 

both of them nod at your confession, telling you that you needn’t worry and that your secrets were safe with them. sunghoon and jongseong didn’t particularly like jaeyun. jaeyun was like an outcast and kept to himself, that was until you became his friend. sunghoon never liked jaeyun, his parents had told him about how since no one ever knew where jaeyun came from that he should be wary of him. 

jaeyun didn’t have parents like all of the other angels. he just appeared one day, a small child with feathered wings on his back wrapped up in a cloudy white blank. the higher order took him in and ever since he’s just been in heaven. no one knows where or who jaeyun came from but maybe that’s why he had an innate curiosity. 

a small boy from the unknown that searched for answers about things no one had been curious about before. 

the three of you walked together as you made your way to supper, jaeyun still heavy on your mind as the two boys beside you sent each other knowing glances. jongseong had no reason to dislike jaeyun but because he was sunghoon’s best friend, he automatically disliked jaeyun out of responsibility for being sunghoon’s friend. 

your eyes scan the large supper hall to see if you could find jaeyun but just as you think he didn’t show up for supper, he appears at your side, glaring at the two boys next to you. “yn, can we talk for a sec?” he asks, grabbing hold of your wrist, already pulling you away from your friends. you stutter out a few words but sunghoon steps in out of worry and disdain for the boy you’re about to leave with. “not going to have supper? you should eat, yn.” he says. 

you look up at sunghoon, reluctance in your eyes but you reassure him regardless. you weren’t sure why jaeyun wanted to talk but you tell sunghoon and jongseong that it’s fine and that you’d eat something later. encouraging them to go eat supper. 

jaeyun drags the two of you away from the supper hall, glaring at the two guys who are now looking at each other with worried expressions. the three of you hadn’t been friends for long but your proximity to jaeyun was enough for them to worry about you. jongseong and sunghoon watch as the two of you walk away, both of them choosing to skip dinner and find one of the angels of the higher order to report their worries about jaeyun and your safety. 

𓆩♱𓆪  

you try your best not to stumble over your own feet as jaeyun drags you away, hand still gripping your wrist as he takes you to wherever. his pace is quick, like he’s rushing off somewhere, afraid that it’ll be gone by the time you arrive. 

or perhaps he was in a rush to get you away from the two boys who had intentions opposite of him. 

you notice the path you’re on with jaeyun. recognizing that the building you were about to enter was the old cathedral that the higher order used to have their conclaves. it was a tall, old, abandoned building that stood mighty despite being unused for the last century. the higher order had prohibited everyone from entering the building, but because it was everything that was forbidden, jaeyun gravitated towards it.

“jaeyun, slow down! we aren’t even allowed to be here– yn. look..” he says, coming to a halt as jaeyun drags you towards the back of a cathedral. a large wooden door in front of you both with an emblem you don’t recognize. 

“what is this?” 

jaeyun finally lets go of your wrist as he walks over to the door to explain what he had found. you rub your wrist, your skin tender and irritated from his grip. “look.. i never noticed this door before until i saw a scroll with the same exact symbol and i knew it looked familiar.” he says, pulling the crumpled up scroll from his pockets. 

“did you take this? jaeyun, you’re going to get in so much trouble!” you huff, taking the paper from his hands but he quickly snatches it back. 

“i don’t care! i want answers, ok?” he says, chest rising and falling as he continues to tighten his fist around the paper. he closes his eyes to calm himself down and that’s when you notice just how exhausted he looks. his face was pale, eyes and cheeks sunken in, and lips chapped. it was like he hadn’t slept or eaten in so long– he looked drastically different from when you saw him just a few hours ago. 

while you were with jongseong and sunghoon, jaeyun had snuck into the grand hall library once again and found his way into a locked vault of more scrolls and books that jaeyun didn’t see the first time he had broken in. he read through as many as he could in the time that you were with jongseong and sunghoon. the books talked about an essence, one of knowledge and power that would give anyone who summons it everything they ask for, just at the price of something they hold dear. 

jaeyun knew that he didn’t have a lot in his life so the exchange wouldn’t be drastic to him. 

he realized that he had seen the symbol on the scroll before and tried to wrap his mind around where he had seen it. the old abandoned cathedral because he used to sneak into there to clear his mind when he couldn’t think straight. jaeyun quickly stuffs the scroll haphazardly into his pockets and runs over to the supper hall to find you because he didn’t know anyone else that would care as much as you did. 

you slowly walk over to him, his head is low and you can tell he’s exhausted. everyone always had something to say about jaeyun and most of it was negative– you were truly the only person who ever listened to him, cared about him, and was there for him. you were all jaeyun had and it hurt to see that everyone else’s behavior was starting to rub off on you with the way you’ve begun to question his actions. your hand gently cups his face as you try to raise his head. “hey.. look at me.” 

jaeyun slowly raises his head and the two of you lock eyes. you held his gaze and jaeyun was starting to realize that everything he thought he needed was behind your eyes. you looked at him so tenderly, treated him with care, and was the only person to ever show him the closest thing to love. 

“i need you to breathe, ok? i’ll listen to whatever you have to say, just.. just breathe.” and you can feel jaeyun instantly relax into your touch. his hand now rests over yours as you caress his cheek, the feeling of your skin on his enough to bring him down and soothe the storm that was previously brewing inside of him. 

jaeyun exhales like he had been holding everything in for so long and in a lot of ways he has but you were here now, so that means he could finally make the breakthrough he had been looking for and you’d be here to witness the greatness of his discoveries. 

his wonders and the only person to ever care for him, it was perfect. 

“okay.. what did you find?” 

he looks into your eyes momentarily, a smile spreading onto his face the sound of interest, before walking over to the door, hands reaching out towards the symbol. jaeyun goes on to explain that the scroll was written ages ago and that the symbol marks desire. the one to summon the entity behind the symbol is able to be granted what they want at the cost of a sacrifice. 

“jaeyun, a sacrifice? isn’t that bad..” 

“no, yn. i promise. it says the sacrifice is something that i hold closest to me and.. i have nothing. this transaction can’t be that bad..” you gulp at his response, worry starting to settle in your stomach but because you cared about jaeyun and wanted to see this through, you chose to not push and let him continue. 

“what do you need to do? i mean– this building is abandoned and i never even knew this door existed.” 

jaeyun swallows the lump in his throat as he looks at the large door up and down. unsure of where to even start. the scroll only says that those with a desire so great shall be able to summon the entity. the entity was described as an essence, a source of knowledge and power that exceeds physical body and spiritual planes. it rang bells inside of jaeyun’s head because finally, it felt like he was on the cusp of something and would be able to get what he had been looking for. 

“let me see that.” you say, walking over to grab the scroll from his hands. 

the words on the paper didn’t provide you with any new information, it was all the same as what jaeyun had said but you noticed that the symbol on the paper was circled by an ancient text. characters that you didn’t recognize and when you looked up at the symbol on the door, those characters were missing. 

“wait– look at this.” you say, getting jaeyun’s attention as you point out the difference between the two symbols. “that’s it! maybe we need to write that around the symbol and it’ll activate it somehow.” he says enthusiastically, smiling wider and wider. 

“you’re a genius, yn! i could kiss you right now.” jaeyun says absentmindedly, not realizing what he had just said while he takes a look around the cathedral from something to write the text. you stood still for a second as you registered his words. did he mean that? or was he just speaking out of excitement..

either way the thought of kissing jaeyun didn’t seem like such a bad idea. his lips were beautifully shaped, you had often focused on them when he was talking about his ideas and curiosities. they looked soft and it made you wonder how soft they’d feel against yours. 

“okay, all done.” jake says as he writes the last character at the bottom of the symbol. you’re surprised at how fast he was able to do that but because jaeyun was determined, you knew that he’d get it done in no time. you walk over to him and jaeyun mindlessly entwines your fingers together as you wait for something to happen. you look down at your hands, yours in his, and it makes you smile. such a small yet intimate connection. 

you’re taken out of your thoughts when a low rumbling starts to emit from the cathedral. dust and old concrete particles fall from the ceiling as the rumbling continues and just as you’re about to suggest to leave, the symbol on the door begins to glow. the both of you are completely enamored by the glowing light, eyes glued to the door until it slowly swings open. 

the room behind the door is dark but alluring. there was a quiet whispering coming from behind the door and as you stood in your spot, jaeyun soon started to walk towards it. your hand being pulled in front of you as jaeyun gets closer and closer to entering the door and as much as you tried to stop him, to stand still and pull him back, you find yourself walking through the door just like jaeyun. your hand still in his. 

𓆩♱𓆪 

jaeyun had a natural curiosity but as an angel that came from nowhere, a lot of the angels always judged him. said that he was from somewhere unholy as much as it was unknown. he questioned the higher order and why angels should follow their instructions, who made them in charge, and why no one knew where jaeyun is from. 

but not you. 

you always admired how intelligent jaeyun was, he was thought provoking, brilliant, and challenged your thinking. you appreciated how much he wanted more out of life, how his desires always stemmed from curiosity, and how he never let anyone– despite their judgemental comments, stop him from what he wanted to do. 

the two of you would spend hours in each other’s company where jaeyun would talk endlessly about his deepest desires and what they mean to him and how it can open up the world more than we know it. it was insightful and although you didn’t fully understand what he was saying most of the time, you couldn’t help but smile at everything he said and did. 

jaeyun on the other hand, loved that you listened to him. you never judged him when he would talk your ear off about what was on his mind recently, you’d just sit to the side while smiling at him; encouraging him to keep going with his thoughts whenever he felt like he was talking too much or you’d ask questions when he would stop talking altogether. another way to encourage him to keep going because you didn’t mind it one bit. 

even when jaeyun was deep in his thoughts and rambling about what discovery he was on the cusp of, he was still attentive towards you. while you paid attention to the growing thesis of his words, jaeyun paid attention to your kind eyes and how they welcomed every thought he’s ever had. he paid attention to the color of your skin and how it glowed, the curvature of your lips, and most importantly; how you smiled at everything he said and it wasn’t the type of smile that he’d get from other angels whenever he greeted them and they’d just smile so jaeyun would leave them alone. 

your smile was different. your smile made him feel appreciated, understood, seen, and loved. 

jaeyun’s hand tightened around yours as the both of you walked into the darkness. a singular light source peeking into the dark room but it soon leaves the both of you in complete darkness when the door randomly shuts behind both of you with a long creak and an eventual thud. 

the slamming of the door causes you to jump but jaeyun is quick to pull you close to him. he rubs your knuckles with his thumb to calm you down but despite his efforts to calm you down. you were surrounded by darkness but you forced yourself to keep walking besides jaeyun, unsure of where the two of you were even going. 

a low whispering fills the room as a cold chill sweeps by the both of you when a large flame suddenly blazes in the far distance, the light of the flame bright enough to cast fiery hues across both of your faces. jaeyun drags the two of you closer to the flame but even though you were starting to become afraid, jaeyun’s presence was enough to help you keep going. 

just as you approach the large flame, a low roaring voice booms through the room. 

“jaeyun.. i’ve been waiting for you.” 

you look over at him, confused as to how it knew jaeyun’s name. you didn’t even know what “it” was. was this the entity? the essence that jaeyun was talking about from what he’s seen from all of the pages of pages and scrolls he had read. 

“i’ve been watching you, my child. i’ve seen you grow into the angel you are now. propagated your thoughts like soil and seeds, nurtured the curiosity inside of you into action, and allowed for your desires to fester inside of you.

i’m glad you finally found your way to me.” 

you looked over at jaeyun once again and he’s completely hypnotized by the essence. the flames in front of you made his eyes glow like he was looking up at the north star. his lips were slightly parted and you could see the genuine delight in his eyes. you’ve never seen him look at anything or anyone like that before, not even you. 

“i’ve been waiting for this opportunity.. i can’t believe it’s true, i thought all of this was just ink on paper but– this is real.” jaeyun breathes out, his grip on your hand unmoving as he has the conversation with the entity. you swallowed the fear in your throat and you didn’t know what to do. you couldn’t call for help but you also knew that you couldn’t drag jaeyun out of here because he was deeply involved whatever this was. 

“are you prepared?” 

jaeyun nods in response and his hand suddenly loosens over yours. your eyes drop to your hands on the sudden loss of contact, unsure why he had let you go. “jaeyun? prepared for what?” 

“remember when i told you about the deepest desire and how summoning the entity will grant them what they wanted? 

this is that.. i’ve summoned it and now my greatest and deepest desires will come true.” 

jaeyun talked about a lot of things that you didn’t fully understand and this moment was one of those times. you couldn’t fully grasp what was going on between the two of them, like there was some unspoken agreement that they only knew and you were a bystander, witness to the obscurity of jaeyun speaking to nothing but the scorching inferno. 

“jaeyun.. what does that mean..?” 

he suddenly turns towards you, grasping onto your hands once again and placing them on his chest. you could feel his heart beating, it was steady but it was hard, you could tell that this was something that was riling him up. 

“i need you to listen to me. ok, yn?” you slowly nod, still unsure of what is happening. 

“i’m finally going to get my answers. everything that i’ve ever wanted and more– i just need to make a sacrifice and then everything will be mine.” 

you shook your head at him, he wasn’t the same jaeyun you knew anymore. the jaeyun that you had begun to fall in love with was long gone. he had a dark desire in his eyes, the brightness long gone but replaced with a type of darkness that made his eyes look like black holes– the longer you looked into them it was like you were being sucked right in. 

“no no no.. please listen.” he says, grabbing your face with his hands so that you couldn’t look into his eyes. “please, believe me. you’re the only person who has ever listened to me– believed me, seen me. 

please..” 

“okay..” you managed to whisper and jaeyun smiles in relief, pulling you into his chest as his arms wrap around your body but before you’re able to wrap yours around him, you’re suddenly snatched away from jaeyun as a black smoke wraps itself around your body and pulls you away from him. 

“what? what are you doing! give her back!” jaeyun screams as you’re pulled away from him, the black smoke holding you in the air above the inferno that seemed to only grow bigger, brighter, and hotter. “put her down!” 

the entity laughs at him like he was stupid. “it’s time, jaeyun. your sacrifice must be made.” 

jaeyun furrows his brows in anger at the voice, unsure what you have to do with it until he realizes his grave mistake. the scrolls explained that the person who summons the entity to make their desires come true had to make a sacrifice and since he didn’t have anything because he came from nowhere, jaeyun thought he could cheat the system and find a way to not have to sacrifice anything. 

but he was gravely wrong. 

he had grown very close with you. your relationship blossoming behind closed doors and secret conversations away from the rest of the angels. jaeyun had fallen in love with you and he hadn’t even realized it. 

but the darkness did. 

jaeyun’s eyes watered as the black smoke lowered you closer and closer to the flame. the fire begins to burn the edges of your white clothes, black staining the fabric as you begin to feel the scalding heat of the fire. 

“please.. i’ll do anything, just– please. just stop all of this.” jaeyun pleads, his lips quivering as tears fall down his face. you scream in pain as the fire becomes more and more painful, pleading for all of it to stop, begging for jaeyun to help but he is frozen in place. 

his eyes were dark as tears made them glisten, the image of the fire reflecting in his eyes as he continued to watch you burn in the inferno that he created. the darkness knew this all along. it watched as jaeyun fell more and more in love with you and once he had finally figured out how to summon the darkness, it knew that jaeyun would bring you along. 

jaeyun himself hadn’t known it until it was too late. you were an angel with a bright aura and golden light inside of you– but in the darkness, you were his sacrifice. you no longer had the ability to scream or cry as the last of your being was burnt by the flame. a singular tear running down your face as jaeyun falls to his knees before the fire. 

“jaeyun.. tell me. now that your sacrifice has been made; what is it that you want? what do you desire? declare your deepest desires to me, my child.” 

he’s silent. head low as his knees begin to ache. besides the aching in his chest, he felt empty. he didn’t know that this is how everything would play out– if he had, he’d never brought you here. he loved you but maybe that was the issue. 

if he hadn’t loved you then you would’ve never been sacrificed. if he never met you then this would’ve never happened. 

jaeyun slowly raises his head as the inferno continues to intensify in a frenzy. he swallows the dryness in his throat before declaring his wish. 

𓆩♱𓆪 

when jaeyun leaves the room, the same old wooden door shuts behind him, although now the symbol disintegrates into ash. he walks with his head low, feet dragging on the concrete as he makes his way out. 

“jaeyun!” someone calls out. he raises his head and sees jongseong and sunghoon running towards him. urgency on their faces as they see jaeyun, rough and alone. 

“where’s yn? what did you do?” sunghoon asks as they approach him. jaeyun just blinks at them like he was in a daze. like he wasn’t completely conscious and was fighting to stay upright. 

“jaeyun! answer us, where is yn?” jongseong says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him in frustration. 

jaeyun shoves them off of him before speaking, “who is yn?” 

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[hoe4hotchner]

hi! could I request singer reader dating Aaron and the BAU doesn't KNOW but founds out after she drops her album/song about him (I'm thinking juno, bed chem by Sabrina etc).

Valkyrie | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x singer fem!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: No use of Y/N, but reader's stage name is Valkyrie in this, Fluff, relationship

The team had scattered across the bullpen, taking a rare break between interviews and paperwork. Penelope, however, was anything but quiet. She was vibrating with excitement as she stormed into the room, tablet in hand and an undeniable spark in her eyes.

“Okay, stop everything you’re doing,” she announced dramatically, catching everyone’s attention. “Have you heard this new album?”

Emily, sitting at her desk, glanced up with a smirk. “What album?”

She held up her tablet like it was a piece of holy scripture. “Valkyrie’s new album just dropped. I’m telling you, it is life-changing, soul-touching, cry-your-eyes-out amazing.”

You were Valkyrie - the pop sensation who had taken the world by storm over the last couple of months. Known for your breathtaking voice, and your way of writing lyrics that felt personal even to the audience, like you were pulling the words straight from your soul. What the team didn’t know was that Valkyrie, the woman with chart-topping hits, was Hotch’s girlfriend - and the subject of your latest songs? Well, that was him.

"Valkyrie? Isn’t she that singer you’ve been obsessed over lately?" Derek asked, teasing.

“First of all, it’s not an obsession; it’s an appreciation of an amazing artist. And second,” Garcia held her finger up for dramatic effect, “her new album, Into You, is… well, I’m not saying it’s about someone in her life, but these lyrics, guys… they’re personal.”

Spencer, ever the analyst, raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s about someone specific?”

“Oh, Spence,” Garcia sighed dramatically, tapping her tablet to pull up the lyrics. “Just listen to this - ‘Your steady presence holds me still when the world spins too fast. In your arms, I finally find my way home.’ Does that not sound like she’s writing about someone she loves?”

JJ tilted her head, intrigued. “It does sound pretty intimate.”

Derek grinned. “Sounds like someone’s in love.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I wonder who it’s about.”

Meanwhile, Hotch had been quietly observing the conversation from his office, a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. The lyrics they were quoting were all too familiar to him. He’d heard them months ago when Valkyrie - well, you - had played the demo for him late one night, curled up together in his living room. You’d been nervous, watching him for a reaction as your voice filled the room. But there had been nothing but pride in his chest, knowing how deeply you felt for him.

"Hotch!" Derek’s voice called as he stepped out of his office. “You ever listen to this stuff?”

Hotch looked up, his calm mask firmly in place. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?” Garcia gasped, horrified at his indifference. “Aaron Hotchner, how can you be so nonchalant about THE Valkyrie?”

He merely raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral. “I’m aware of her work.”

Spencer, still analyzing, added, “There’s been a lot of speculation about who her songs are about. She’s private, so no one really knows who she’s dating.”

Derek chuckled. “She’s probably dating some regular guy, someone outside the spotlight.”

At that, Hotch couldn’t help but suppress a grin. He supposed, in a way, he was that regular guy - well, as regular as the head of the BAU could be.

Just then, Garcia pressed play on the song, and your voice flowed through the speakers, soft and intimate. It was the song you’d written just for him, though no one else knew that. The one that talked about finding calm in the chaos, about love that was steady and unwavering.

JJ’s brow furrowed as she listened closely, some of the lyrics sounding a little too familiar, her eyes drifting toward Hotch, catching the subtle change in his expression. “Wait… Hotch, you wouldn’t happen to know something about this, would you?”

The team went quiet as all eyes turned to him. Hotch met JJ’s gaze, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. He debated for a moment how much he should reveal. You had both agreed to keep things quiet after all, your lives were public enough without everyone knowing about your relationship. But as he looked at his team, he realized it was time.

“I do,” Hotch finally said, his voice steady.

Garcia’s eyes went wide, her tablet nearly slipping from her hands. “WAIT… WHAT?”

Derek blinked in disbelief. “No way.”

“You and Valkyrie?” Emily asked her tone somewhere between astonishment and amusement.

Hotch’s small smile grew a little. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

The bullpen exploded into noise - questions, laughter, disbelief. Garcia was beside herself. “YOU’VE BEEN DATING VALKYRIE AND DIDN’T TELL US?”

Hotch shrugged slightly. “It wasn’t relevant to the job.”

Emily shook her head, grinning. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”

“Believe it,” Hotch replied, his tone light but still full of pride.

Penelope, still in shock, glanced at the tablet, then back at Hotch. “That song - this whole album - it’s about you, isn’t it?”

Hotch didn’t need to answer, but the look in his eyes was enough confirmation. Spencer, still processing, muttered, “Well, that certainly explains the lyrics.”

As the team bombarded him with questions, Hotch’s mind wandered back to you. Despite the craziness of your life in the public eye and his demanding career, you had found something rare and beautiful together. And now, it seemed, the secret was out - but somehow, he didn’t mind.

[phoenixrisingastro]

You weren’t born—you emerged. Clawed out of shadow, dripping in the silence between lightning and thunder. You didn’t come here to smile politely and blend in. You came to taste every flavor of pain, power, possession, and pleasure. And leave fingerprints on the souls of anyone who dares to love you.

Scorpio Rising is not a placement. It is a pact.

An agreement between your higher self and your shadow. A contract that says: “We will never live lightly. We will never love softly. We will never die quietly.”

And so the world meets you not through your words, but your energy. They feel you before you speak. A presence that pricks the skin. Something ancient. Something wounded and weaponized. You don’t make an entrance. You cause a disturbance. Something in the air changes. Their pupils dilate. Their breath slows. Their trauma rises to the surface. Because your existence isn’t passive—it’s provocative.

You are the child of the underworld. Pluto’s mark is etched across your aura like a warning label: “Do not touch unless you’re ready to unravel”

Most don’t read it.

They touch anyway.

And then they wonder why they can’t forget you.

Because Scorpio Rising doesn’t do relationships. It does rebirths.

You either leave someone the same… or you never really touched them at all.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙔𝙏𝙃: 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙉

Scorpio Rising carries the mythos of every underworld god that ever ruled in silence.

You are Persephone—the maiden stolen, transformed into queen, holding pomegranate seeds between your teeth like secrets never confessed. You are Hades—the shadow king with eyes like oil and fire, who doesn’t seduce, but summons. You are Lilith—the original exile, the primal defiant, the dark feminine who said “no” and was branded dangerous for it.

But you’re also the phoenix—the bird that incinerates itself by choice, just to feel what it’s like to rise again with bloodier wings. You are the embodiment of sacred cycles: decay, death, and rebirth. You are nature’s reminder that nothing stays pure without cost.

You are the serpent and the orgasm. The poison and the cure. The lover and the executioner. And your life? Well, it’s a never-ending ritual of shedding skins no one ever saw you grow in the first place.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙏 — 1𝙎𝙏 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙍𝙋𝙄𝙊

Let’s speak of the body. Your body is not simply flesh. It is memory. It is armor. It is seduction with teeth. People look at you and see something unspeakable—something animal, primal, instinctive. Your features may be sharp, feline, still. Or soft but unreadable—masklike. But the eyes? That’s where the story bleeds through.

Scorpio Rising eyes are gateways. They are dangerous. Because they don’t just look—they strip. They see. They feel someone’s shame before the words reach the throat. You don’t need to ask questions. The answers come to you. You read body language like scripture. You sense fear like heat. And you move with the calculated silence of someone who’s been watched their entire life—and decided to do the same back, better.

You carry trauma like silk—elegantly, invisibly, wrapped around your hips and stitched into your shoulders. People assume you’re fine. They assume wrong. Your pain doesn’t show in breakdowns. It shows in detachment. Withdrawal. Obsession. In the way you crave intensity because peace is unfamiliar. You weren’t built for lukewarm. You were built for extremes.

𝙃𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘿 𝙄𝙎 — 𝘼𝙌𝙐𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙎 4𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

Home never felt like home. It felt like an experiment. A lab where you were dissected emotionally or spiritually, even if not physically. You weren’t hugged. You were analyzed. Watched. Compared. Isolated. Told to be logical when your heart was screaming for connection. So you froze. You buried the ache in innovation, in rebellion, in cold detachment. You taught yourself that needing love made you weak.

But it didn’t. It made you human.

And now, as an adult, every relationship is a battle between the part of you that craves closeness and the part that would rather die than be dependent. You push away the very things you desire. You test people before you trust them. And if they fail (which most do), you vanish. Not out of cruelty. But because every disappointment reopens the wound you swore you’d buried a lifetime ago.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍’𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋 — 𝙏𝘼𝙐𝙍𝙐𝙎 7𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But gods always have consorts. And a Scorpio Rising is no exception.

You attract the stable. The sensual. The patient. Those with warm hands and calm voices who look like safety—but who often turn into mirrors. Because your lovers may come gently, but they leave marked. You burn through their illusions. You expose their needs. You awaken their fears. And somewhere in the middle, they forget who they were before you.

But you? You remember. You always remember. Because every connection becomes a tattoo on your psyche. You don’t fall in love—you merge. You don’t date—you possess. You don’t want sex—you want access to the soul.

And when it ends (and it always ends) you grieve like a widow. Even if they’re still breathing. Because every love for you is a small death. And you are always both killer and mourner.

𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀 — 𝙇𝙀𝙊 10𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀

But even gods rise from the pit. You weren’t meant to stay buried.

Your 10th house is Leo—the sign of kings, performers, royalty, legacy. You were born to rise into the light despite the darkness. Not to forget your pain—but to wear it like armor. Your past was your test. But your future? That’s your kingdom. And it’s built on the bones of every person who underestimated you.

You will be known. You must be known. Not for being soft or palatable—but for being unforgettable. Your career path isn’t about labor. It’s about impact. You’re here to provoke. To transform. To become the icon people whisper about but never fully understand. You’re the story that can’t be copied. The archetype that redefines what power looks like.

Scorpio Rising doesn't climb ladders. It burns them and builds a throne from the ashes.

𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂—𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙎

If you have this rising sign, then know this:

You are the doorway and the destroyer. The siren and the storm.

You will always be too much for most. That is the point.

You came here to live at the edge. To taste every venom and still smile. To be the wound and the healer.

To be feared, yes. But more importantly—to be respected.

To be remembered.

You are not here for comfort. You are here for evolution.

And if they cannot handle your depth?

Let them drown in the shallows...

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[sagekjs21]

Well... It all depends upon what you liked. This could be an apt response, but sometimes a more appropriate one would be "To hell with what you liked." Let Scripture teach you where each phrase applies.

“To hell with being ashamed of what you liked.”

— Ralph Ellison

[sharkbitten-sailor]

Maybe two time and noob (seperate) x reader who's similar to Betty grof from adventure time, hcs?

[forsaken] two time & noob x reader who's similar to Betty Grof headcanons .ᐟ

a/n; this writing took way too long thanks to HER LONG ASS WIKI. but h my childhood is calling n i just can't ignore it,,, anyway, sorry for the delay anon </3

warning; potential ooc and mischaracterization, betty grof and her lore made me ragequit, so i only took her og persona & powers, gn for reader.

two time - at first? nothing. not a glance, not a nod. just silence. like you don’t exist. - they watch you juking the killer from afar, observing, considering. but only for a moment. - your sheer strength catches their attention, though they’d never admit it. not yet. - something about you feels familiar, like guest 1337. but that's it. nothing more. - if you start a conversation, you'll crack the surface, but don't expect warmth. paranoia still rides shotgun. - everything seems normal until they start murmuring about their 'oh-so-harmless cult', as if you agreed to listen. - show even mild curiosity about their 'spawn deity' and suddenly, you're their prophet. willing? doesn't matter. - find them in a match and brace yourself. expect nonstop ramblings, an endless hymn of praise for their 'spawn deity'. you asked for it. - avoid them? fine. for now. but they’ll grow curious. you can’t hide your power forever, now can you? - save them just once, and it’s a celestial revelation. you’re chosen. an offering. salvation. - after that, they’re unexpectedly generous. medkits, bloxy cola, quiet devotion, whispers to unseen forces about your "ascension." - they hover too close as you cast, murmuring questions like prayers, analyzing your movements like scripture. - you’re both unstable. a strange pairing, i must say. - they take hits for you without hesitation. hp is just a number. you? you are the mission. - that’s when it dawns on you. this is the beginning of something twisted. it’s not love. not yet. just fascination. a consuming, obsessive fascination. moth-to-flame type. - god please teach them about personal space… or learn to wake up with them silently watching you breathe with those creepy, unblinking eyes. - their praise never falters when you outsmart the killer. - "such precision… such grace… you were chosen", "divine intervention… it has to be" something like those. - no matter where you spawn, even in the dead center of the map, they’ll mark the ground, setting up their ritual. convinced it will shield them for the round. - somehow, that always works. coincidence? they think not.

noob - new survivor? oh. - at first, they treat you like any other. just another face in the crowd, nothing special. - they do notice something, though. the way you adapt, how effortlessly you adjust to everything. they wish they could do the same. - then the round turns brutal and you step in, shielding them, revealing your power in the process. - fear flickers in their eyes, fleeting, before gratitude takes hold. overwhelming, undeniable. - they think you're like dusekkar, just… without a staff. and a pumpkin head. - briefly, they wonder if you need a sentinel too, someone to guard you like other supporters. - keyword: briefly. - because FYM YOU CAN PUNCH THE KILLER IN THE FACE WHILE CASTING SPELLS AT THE SAME TIME. - they freeze, watching you do it right in front of them. shock lingers, but so does admiration. - still thankful. still staring. trying to process what they just witnessed. - offering you bloxy cola as their way of saying 'thank you'. not something they do often, so it actually means a lot. - listen to your rants with real focus. they may not remember it all, but they're trying! - might avoid you a little after seeing you lose your temper. or a lot. or neither. who knows? - absolutely in awe at how many books you have. like, seriously, they never expected you to have this many. - accidentally mixed bloxy cola with your 'magical pot thing' once. never did that again. unless you enjoy sleeping on the floor while your room slowly fills with smoke. - secretly really into your whole wizard aesthetic. turns out, it's actually kind of fashionable. - during rounds, they'll take hits for you if you can't spare time to regenerate your spells. not always, though. their bravery still wavers. - they do it because they have slateskin potions, trusting that, somehow, you'll have their back once they've run out. - seeing you helps ease their fear and worry, like catching a glimpse of light in the dark. - because, in your own ways, you're both doing everything you can to support each other. - 'i got ur back, dw' type. - turns out, you two make a pretty good duo. actually, a great one.

a/n; this took me forever since i forgot to save before closing my tabs. almost gave up on continuing, but i couldn't leave you waiting for nothing. so,,,, hope you get it, anon <3

[gazstations]

Fatum signatum, Canis esuriens

CHAPTER ONE - venari incipit

ᯓ��𐭩 CHAPTER SUMMARY

John MacTavish finds the bird he wants to sink his teeth into. It just so happens to be the one that flew away years ago.

♡ Chapter Warnings: Johnny doesn't know how to take rejection, forced proximity, blackmailing, sexual mentions, religious themes, negative talks of religion

◇ Notes: I have no business making this story, but here you guys are. If you want something cute and fluffy, go somewhere else.

○●○ SERIES MASTERLIST ♡ NEXT

NAVIGATION MASTERLIST

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

JOHNNY WAS ALWAYS A LOOSE CANNON. Attended church every Sunday with his family, never indulged in sex, and always felt guilty after he rubbed his cock raw during his puberty stages. Even if subconsciously he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with indulgence, he was bred to live life conscious of how he presented himself. Even after he long disbanded from the Catholic church, it had a nasty way of creeping up on him.

Admittedly, he still prayed. He may had cast shame towards a lot of the viewpoints of the Catholic church, but some habits never died hard. He liked to consider praying a stepping point off into his own version of what faith meant to him. The core principal he always found himself going back to was living a fulfilling life.

The military was a bust. Yeah, he could brag and proclaim that he was a three-headed hydra. Take one head and two remain. But taking a bullet to the head didn't make him feel more powerful or immortal. It had him going back to the one place he swore he would never go back to.

The wooden pews of the grandiose church were hauntingly familiar. He walked with a weighted limp to the right side, fourth row back, and in the center. He felt a prickling itch in his neck, a warning that he was far too dirtied by the world now to be allowed as an innocent creature under God's light.

He was rotten down to his core. Blood caked underneath his fingernails, and the thick scent of antiseptic followed him. After getting shot, he developed a nasty disgust for germs as it so happened. He washed his hands so often that he had deep pruning on the pads of his fingertips. Maybe he was trying to physically absolve for his vile sins. Though, it had always been his mind that he was sick in.

The starfish bullet wound scar was a natural deterrent. Eyes analyzed the pale flesh and thought better of poking the bear. He must have been malformed because of it. A grotesuqe, cursed being that was punished into a life of solitude.

He was prickly around the edges now. There was always a curl on his lip just shy of a full snarl. He was a mutt condemned to a life on the streets. He no longer was of any use to the military, and he was far too socially inappropriate for normal civilian life. He was just idling, waiting for something to spark the dopamine receptors.

Praying felt like a lost cause as well. God had never answered any of his prayers before, so why would he humor him now? He was everything God stood against in the supposed truth of the scripture.

He went to the military and played around with far too many men and women. He indulged in other temporary vices like drinking and smoking. He shot down fellow lost souls on the beaten path. He walked in the fly-infested graveyard far more than he ever walked in a meadows full of lively blossoms.

It was no wonder his own mother scorned him.

His mother was a proper Scottish mother. She was proud of her heritage and wanted to present her family as an upstanding group of well-rounded personalities. And there was nothing less upstanding or respectful than pushing Johnny into the center spotlight and saying nothing more than "this is the son that kills." As if he wasn't saving unfortunate souls as he did it.

It was always just that to other people: an excuse to harm. Maybe they were right because no shiny medal or pat on the back ever made him puff up in pride like a bloody peacock.

A sweet, honeyed voice dragged him from his wonky rendition of "Our Father." His sharp eyes scanned the room as if he was perched once more on the rooftop of a building and looking for a target through his scope. His shoulders were coiled tight, a lasting effect of kneeling at the pew and pretending he was a simple man asking for guidance.

He found you coming out from one of the side rooms, smile lifting the corners of your lips. You held yourself with a weightlessness that he never had been privy to. The first thought when he saw you was that you're a doe trapped in a forest filled with wolves. Only he was the only wolf, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

Familiar. That was the second thought that passed through his muddled, tar-ridden brain. He had to wrack his brain harder to grasp memories after Makarov tried to turn the lights off. It was frustrating. His mind used to be zooming around the track. He could multitask just fine and didn't feel a faint throbbing in his skull as he calculated.

"I will be by with more canned goods tomorrow."

Your voice was saccarine honey, and he perked up like an untethered canine in search of chewy meat fresh off the bone. It had been far too long since he warmed his bed with something sweet. Long before he joined Task Force 141 and was always on the prowl. He was never in one place for long enough. Now, he was busting at the seams, foaming at the mouth for a way to quench that desire.

There was a mute gravitation towards you, and he didn't know why. It wasn't just sexual frustration. He knew that much. He blinked on half-lidded eyelids, trying to pinpoint how exactly and why your presence sparked a tug.

Then the priest said your name gratefully as he bid you farewell and thanked you for your contribution.

His mind cleared into a litany of hazy memories. He hadn't thought about his childhood in a long time. Far too much sour aftertaste twisting his lips for him to linger. He didn’t like his childhood house. Didn’t like the school he nearly dropped out of.

But he remembered liking you. Maybe a little too much.

He met you in his Sunday school class. The walls were filled with bland, religious metaphors. The chairs were uncomfortable plastic. He drowned out the teacher's mini sermon and instead watched you. Maybe that’s where he learned how to corrupt. From that point on, you were shackled down by his prodding hands as they marked up your youthful, pristine skin.

His words were charming, his blue eyes sucking you in after that class where he first noticed you. You were none the wiser, falling for a boy's sweetened words with a pitch in your voice and trusting, bright eyes. He could tell you weren't used to attention, and he relished being the first one to take a bite.

It wasn't all corruption. Johnny genuinely felt the deep flutter of his heart whenever you were near. He was a boy then, unable to know his actions battered existing foundations and left debris in a heaping crater. It was an unconscious corruption because he was too stupid to realize he had to reel it in.

But he never put his feet forward half-assed. His gait always had an underlying purpose and certainty.

He cornered you, the sweet little rabbit that was too giddy to taste the acid as it coagulated in the air. Two kids with their first crushes. It was supposed to be sweet and innocent, especially for people of your upbringing. It wasn't right to indulge.

But that's all the two of you ever did.

He was messy and sloppy the first time you pinned you down with his lips in the backseat of his car. He was an eager mutt who didn't recognize that he was supposed to woo you and make a special moment out of your firsts. He had a one track mind that was hellbent on devouring you.

You were always so sweet, too kind to tell him if you hated that your first kiss was tarmished by a boy who never eased you into it. You just smiled and blushed, telling him it was everything you ever dreamed up. He always believed that was a bitter lie, but still, he lapped it up.

Watching you now, beyond the filter of child-like haze, he knew instantly you were pretending to be something you weren’t. Your smile was pure and bright, but only he could look deep enough into the deep black of your pupils and see the minefield. People who gave too much were always overcompensating, hiding some massive secret in the dust-ridden pockets of their rib cage.

Maybe he was your secret.

Because once upon a time, he had your throat around his foaming maw.

Of course, you wouldn't ramble on about that. You probably claimed your first kiss was some conjured manifestation of bliss. The candles were lit, and the air wasn't stale with the stench of booze. It was a serene vanilla scent that wafted into the room. Your lover was someone who knew they could borrow but not steal from your essence. They would dip you slightly, curl a hand against your spine and-

No.

That was his pride. It was his right. So was the slick between your legs and the warbling moans. Everything was his claim. Because you never told him to stop, never pried wandering hands from the softness of your flesh. He was not going to let that be some unnamed man's legacy.

He rose from the pew slowly, bad knee cracking. He waited as you exchanged a few more words with Father Cassidy before bidding him farewell. You were none the wiser of what monstrosity caught a whiff of your scent. He wished he had some animalistic sense of smell so he could suck up every hidden layer like the lemonade the two of you always got for fifty cents after church.

"Bonnie..."

You pivoted on your heels, giving him a full picture of who you had grown into. Blood was pounding on his ears as he swallowed spittle down his throat. Steaming Jesus. Maybe God had answered his prayers for putting such a delectable meal in front of him.

"John?" He internally cooed at the surprised, higher lilt of your voice. He loved that you weren’t expecting him. Probably rejoicing all those years that you didn't have him barking up your tree.

John smiled sickenly at the evident nervousness in your stance.

"Ah told ye tae call me, Johnny, love," he saw the flinch in your body.

"What... what are you doing here?" He commended your attempt to seem bigger. You stood straighter, raised your chin, crossed your arms over your chest, and didn't put weight too much on one side. It was textbook. A classic way one is told to appear more than what they are. He found it endearing that his little bunny got claws.

"Disnae matter."

Evasive. Dismissive. He was always like that while you offered scraps of your essence in every form. He indulged you, letting you ramble on about the intricacies of your existence. All the while, he offered nothing of him. Or at least a carefully thought-out, meticiously crafted misrepresentation of himself.

You always believed him.

"Ye ken what is important?" He stepped closer into your personal space, and you shifted. Hesitant. You had gone skittish since he had last seen you. That wasn't good. "That ye and ah happen tae be in the same place.”

You swallowed, Johnny watched your throat bob. “Yeah, how funny. Considering you don’t practice anymore.”

No, he never lasted long in the Catholic Church once he found it held him back. His desires were his desires, and he wasn’t going to apologize for it.

“Ach, bon. Ah had a change o’ heart.”

He snarled at the scoff that left your lips. You had a bit more bite now. He wanted to snuff it out. “You? You had a change of heart?”

Your bitter words offended him for a moment before he tampered down his pride and gave you an uneasy smirk. You weren’t necessarily wrong in your pointed comment. He had never been one to shy away from how distasteful he found faith. He remembered mocking Father Cassidy’s opening sermon under his breath and his mother smacking him on the head with the donation envelopes stored in the back of the seats.

Instead, he pointed to the pale scar dimpling his left temple and right at the hairline. He watched your face grow contemplative as you examined the evidence of his attempted murder. Your pretty lips pursed, and your eyes softened. That’s right, you can’t bite at a man who’s already down for the count. That isn’t very nice.

“Reckon the big man is lookin’ out fer me after all,” Johnny spoke with slight mockery. If someone was looking out for him, it wasn’t God.

“You got shot…” You finally processed that reality.

“Aye. Dinnae fash, bon. Ah survived,” Johnny cooed softly.

“Unfortunately.”

It was a muttered tone that had Johnny biting his tongue. You were very disrespectful, and he didn’t appreciate it. He was being nice, wasn’t he? He could’ve been backing you into a corner like he always used to do. He knew you enjoyed it. You always used to be so wet by the time his sinful fingers dipped below your waistband.

“Ah’m only tryna make small talk,” he narrowed his eyes.

“Look, John,” you adjusted your bag on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Johnny frowned, but he didn’t let that deter him. “Why not?”

You gave him an exasperated look, and his saliva pooled to the edges of his lips. He loved the way you reacted. You acted like you didn’t always meet him halfway. Some days, you were the one jumping at him and prying apart his body. You were a sinner as much as he was. Only you were a pretender and confessed to your crimes. He never once felt he had to absolve.

How was it wrong when he could still taste the honey on his lips and hear your wanton moans?

“You know why,” you replied.

“Tha’ was a long time ago,” Johnny protested.

He knew you knew that if you denied him now, he would just sink his claws in. It’s not like you could go to a different church or just not come at all. You were still dedicated. A saint, or as close you could get to it. Such a sweet little thing for him to muddy all over again.

“Not really when you think about it,” you remarked.

Johnny hummed as if he heavily considered your comment. He really didn’t care about the specifics. The past was the past. Because this time he wasn’t going to let you go now that he was around once again. Lucky you, you got the Scot all the time now that he was forcibly retired. Didn’t have to go through the fuss of missing him when he was deployed.

“At least let me take ye to lunch,” he proposed. “Ah will be a good boy.”

You looked to right, down the aisle to the altar. Then your eyes flickered to each door, each getaway option. Oh, bonnie, he wasn’t going to hurt you. Not if you played along. He stepped until the rubber end of his shoe was pressing against yours.

“Are ye a proper lass now?” He was condescending in his delivery, venom seeping out through each syllable. He wanted you to know that he still held the cards, that he could squash you beneath two fingers and not break a sweat. He would rather he had you singing melodically as he panted in your ear.

Safe and sound where you always belonged, tucked in the crook of his arm.

“Excuse me?” You questioned.

“Ye tied down now? Is tha’ it?” Johnny despised thinking about the possibility. He glanced down at your left hand, finding no ring wearing down the root of your finger. Yet, that didn’t mean much.

You contemplated for a long moment. He could practically taste the futile lie that was building on your dry tongue. He saw you clench your jaw. “Yes. In fact, he’s picking me up soon.”

“Oh…” Johnny feigned disappointment. “Sure the lad wouldn’t mind me waitin’ with ye. Reckon he’ll thank me fer keepin’ ya safe.”

You shifted back and forth on the soles of your feet. He tracked the movement as your teeth pinched your bottom lip. He found himself aching and so pent up that the smallest of movements from you had him stiffening in his jeans.

“One lunch…” you finally realized you couldn’t lie, and he got his answer. He relaxed his posture, fake friendliness.

“Ah will make it worth yer while, lass,” he promised. He leaned in closer, breath hot against your ear. He grabbed your arm for extra measure, face pulling into a stern look. “If ye lie to me again, ah could tell yer dear auld ma exactly wha’ we did. She never liked me, doe. Bet she will be shocked tae ken her daughter isnae pure.”

“What is wrong with you?” You questioned.

“Just want to catch up, lass. Tha’s all.”

♡◇♡

Johnny could smell the heady scent of your anxiousness. Sweat congealed on your hairline and glistened on your top lip. You were a frightened doe in flight-or-fight mode, coiled tightly. He watched every muscle twitch with precision, waiting for you to take flight so he could catch you.

He had managed to herd you into his car. He was damn grateful the bullet wound didn’t completely rob him of his right to freedom. He would’ve put his head through the wall if that was the case. He wanted to do right by you, be the proper gentleman that got you from point A to B. You deserved your carriage.

“Lot nicer than the cab we used to get cozy in, aye?”

His blue eyes were laser-focused as he watched your eyes crinkle with a soft frown on your lips as you processed what he was implying. Shortly after, disgust washed out the natural glow on your cheeks. You turned your face out the window for a moment; appalled.

“You’re disgusting,” you spat.

“Aye. Never liked mincin’ my words, doe,” Johnny agreed easily.

He had taken you to a simple bistro that served nice enough food. He really could eat anything, so as long as his doe was happy, then he was fine. His bottomless stomach could be blamed on the shitty MREs and whatnot he had been bred on during his time serving. Now, he was trying to stuff his belly full of any fulfillment.

He had even puffed up in the belly area. Not by much, as he still worked out and did his morning run, but that wasn’t as strict as it used to be. With all the eating, his gut now had a layer of fat. Though, he was still a powerhouse.

The food was nice enough. You ate politely, and he gorged. You hardly spoke as you became softened by the food. Good. That’s what he desired, just the slightest shift in your guard so he could wiggle his way in through the cracks.

"I think you can take me home now," you said after a long period of Johnny just mindlessly driving the streets.

Johnny made an incredulous noise as he looked at you. "Why, bon? Ah like drivin' with ya?"

"I already went to lunch with you," you defended yourself. "I never promised more."

"Our date disnae have to end," he said.

You sucked in a breath, gripping your seatbelt like it would fly away from you. You were stiff, shoulders bunched up towards your chin. He kept moving because he knew you had too much self-preservation to jump from a moving vehicle.

"It's not a date," you muttered.

"C'mon, bon. Let me court ya proper," Johnny pleaded.

"Don't you have other women to bother?" You asked with heat.

"No' lately. 'Sides, dinnae want no one else," Johnny admitted.

You regarded him for a long moment. Despite your protests, he spotted the fluster he provoked in you. Your gaze always shifted downward, and you took a deep breath. He internally preened. His doe was still affected by him deep down.

"You're insane actually."

Johnny made a small "tsk" sound. "Ya break my heart."

He saw the faintest curl of your lip when he stopped at a red light. You were amused. He took that and ran with. He always knew you couldn’t hate him completely. He had more to work with, but progress was still progress.

"So what, you want to date me now?" You questioned.

"Aye. Let me take ya on the dates ah never did before," Johnny proposed.

You sighed. You slouched in your seat, defeated. "Fine. One chance."

"Tha's all ah need, doe."

Oh, he was going to devour you.

°•○●○•°

TAGLIST

@callsignpxnguin @sushi-enthusiast @niresenrab

If you would like to be added for future chapters, let me know!

[dioslesbianwife]

hhiii....... could i ask for joefoes x gn reader that dresses in lolita fashion... ((((；ﾟДﾟ))))

hiii, yep, i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting! :333

Dio

You walk in wearing your frilly clothes, ribbons, and elegant tights and Dio literally freezes mid-monologue. “You look… divine.” He says it low, like he’s seeing something holy.

He becomes possessive of the aesthetic. You’re like his living doll, and only he gets to admire you up close.

Buys you obscenely expensive Lolita dresses, shirts, and shorts from all over the world. “I had this custom-embroidered in Italy. Try it on. Now.”

If anyone so much as breathes near you disrespectfully? They’re dead. No hesitation. Your elegance deserves reverence.

He LOVES brushing out your hair before you get dressed, surprisingly gentle as he hums something classical under his breath.

Kars

Intrigued. Deeply intrigued. The way you layer textures and fabrics reminds him of art- something thoughtful and symbolic.

“Such... unnecessary detail. And yet...” He brushes a hand down the lace sleeve of your blouse and stares.

He doesn’t understand the practicality, but he respects your dedication. Honestly? He kind of likes how it sets you apart from the rest of humanity.

Offers to craft you accessories from rare stones and feathers. “If you insist on adorning yourself, you may as well look like a god.”

Yoshikage Kira

Obsessed. You’re immaculate, pristine, composed- everything he’s drawn to.

He treats your clothes with borderline religious reverence. Gently steams your coats. Never lets you wear the same piece two days in a row- for your dignity, of course.

You once wore a wrist cuff with a delicate ribbon and he almost lost it. “May I… keep this?” he asks, breathless, not even realizing how creepy he sounds.

Sometimes he watches you apply makeup or do your hair like it’s a ritual. It calms his murderous urges.

Secretly loves going on quiet walks with you in full dress. “You make this mundane world tolerable,” he murmurs, holding your gloved hand.

Diavolo & Doppio

Doppio is awestruck. “You almost look like royalty..” he beams, eyes sparkling. He wants to take 500 photos of you in your outfits. “Can I send one to the Boss? Please?”

He asks you about every bow, every button. If you say it took an hour to get ready, he’s like “WORTH IT.”

Diavolo is… harder to read. He’s quiet about it at first, analyzing. Then one day he just deadpans: “You look divine. Unreachable.”

He likes how untouchable you look. Untouchable = protected. That matters deeply to him.

Diavolo gifts you dark, gothic Lolita pieces: crimson velvet, black lace, gold cross motifs. You suspect it’s his way of marking you.

Enrico Pucci

Initially doesn’t understand the appeal, but he sees how peaceful you are while dressing yourself, and it moves him.

“Your appearance reflects a careful soul,” he says, watching you pin lace into your collar.

Gets you blessed lace from Italy. Seriously. He brings you fabrics soaked in holy water.

Secretly thinks your fashion is a form of spiritual expression. He once compared your dress to the Virgin Mary’s robes and you had to blink at him like “...”.

If anyone makes fun of you, he defends you with scripture. Yes, really.

Funny Valentine

He adores the patriotism of Classic Lolita. You in red, white, and blue? He literally tears up.

Will commission rare fabrics if he thinks it’ll enhance your look.

Sees your fashion as both regal and subversive. You’re different- he loves different. “A person of elegance…,” he hums, brushing your cheek.

Obsessed with making you look like an old photograph. Hair curled, cameo brooch, boots laced to the knee- he’ll style you himself if you let him.

You’re the only one he’d trust to attend formal events at his side. No one else looks as polished.

Diego Brando

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks- at first. Then? He circles you.

He quickly realizes you’re more intimidating than him in some ways. People stare at you longer. He both resents and loves it.

“If you’re going to wear that in public, you’re walking with me,” he growls, throwing his arm around your waist.

Brings you roses that match your outfits. Low-key brags that his partner is the best-dressed person in all of England (or America if this is during SBR).

His favorite thing? Watching you struggle to climb onto his horse in full dress. He lives to tease you about it.

Tooru

“Wowww,” he coos, eyes gliding down the ruffles and bows. “You dressed up just for me, huh?” He knows you didn’t- but he loves pretending.

Immediately pulls out his phone. “Turn your head a little- yes, yes, perfect. Gonna make this my lock screen.”

He teases you constantly. “You look so delicate. Like one push and you’d tip over~”

Compliments you in weirdly poetic ways: “You’re like a sugar-dusted ghost,” or “You look like a haunted painting. It’s hot.”

Absolutely uses your fashion to mess with others. “Look at my darling- don’t you feel underdressed? Yeah, I thought so.”

[crimsonender]

I have nowhere else to really rant about this so I'll do it here.

I gotta say watching people view Jewish art and animation through a purely evangelical christian lens has got to be one of the worst genres of "critique." It's a different culture and god is viewed in a vastly different light (and actually isn't always the good guy in Judaism.) Things are meant to be seen differently even if the stories originate from the same place. The Jewish holy books end very bleakly, Abraham choosing to sacrifice Isaac was him failing the test in Jewish scripture, And, notably, when you're studying these books, unlike in Christianity, arguing about it and analyzing it and questioning everything is considered a good thing.

At the end of the day I don't buy into any religion but that complicated relationship the Jewish faith has with their deity is interesting and is responsible for a lot of neat art, and its a shame that people refuse to engage with films like Prince of Egypt in a more thoughtful and nuanced way that takes into account who made it and the context it was made in.

[muttoncon]

Oh I'd be interested in that protestant v catholic work ethic 👀

aaaahhh twist my arm i'll analyze more of the pitt

to give a quick run down b4 i go off the rails: the protestant work ethic is a concept in the humanities coined by Max Weber to basically describe how capitalism was able to rise and spread so quickly through protestant ethics and values. there's not really an official "catholic" work ethic, but we can look at how catholics interpret scripture relating to labor v protestants and get a general idea. i gotta rlly emphasize that a lot of this is broad generalization for the ease of analysis o7

for catholics, work is something you must endure as repayment for the original sin. you shouldn't really enjoy working, it's not something that should make you miserable, but it's meant to remind you of the pleasure of leisure. you work hard so that you'll be rewarded later on. honestly, i think langdon fits well with sort of "hedonistic" viewpoint (at least that's how protestants view it). you do good deeds to make up for your bad ones in hopes that your good deeds outweigh the bad. he can keep prolonging his pill popping if he saves enough lives. when robby confronts him about his drug use, as he tries to justify his actions, he starts talking about his work. his work that helps people, that saves lives. his sin of greed is met with his good works brought on by his faith. he does believe in medicine (what im using as a replacement for God), and catholics do believe in sola gratia (by grace alone), and it's his faith in medicine that makes his work mean something. his faith in medicine is also what leads him to be a doctor ("this faith entails by its very nature, good works, always enabled by prior grace, without which this faith is dead" - david armstrong). it's why he goes to rehab! its why he comes back to work.

abbot, imo, is one of the best examples of protestant work ethic. need to squish him & whitaker together… omg what a pair that would be…

when robby is panicking on the roof and abbot is scrambling to comfort him, he starts talking about how he & robby are just destined to do this sort of work: “it’s in our DNA. it's what we do. we can't help it.” his comfort is centered around the idea of what people are meant to do with themselves and how being good at their work is rewarding, not that they will be rewarded for their good work. it circles back to this idea of predestination, that you can't work up to salvation so the work you are doing is evidence of your stewardship to God. "all you can do is focus on the medicine. the medicine's the only thing that saves the patient and your sanity." faith (medicine) is what calls him to be a doctor, it's what controls his life. however, he has no inclination that his labor is going to "save" him, he is either damned or not.

since this post is so long i'll leave my thoughts on whitaker for another time!

[soriyafuq]

Seth's Character Sheet

MAIN FOCUS: Seth

Name - Seth

Nicknames - Sethy, Seth Mcflarne (by Max Godspeed), Setha Metha, Author Harvey

Species - No longer disclosed.

Username - @B333RNADETTE

Occupation - ‘Writer’

Text Color - Blue

Religion - Daisyism, (formerly believed in Artemis)

Open for asks.

^ Seth’s (B333RNADETTE) avatar.

BACKSTORY

They were once a passive dreamer, a writer in a world where stories were soft and lies wore pretty masks. But when they uncovered the Light of Truth, it didn’t bring salvation — it burned. It scorched the comforting narratives they once believed in, tore away illusion, and left them surrounded by ash and silence. The truth was not beautiful. It was brutal.

In that moment, they became something else: the Author. The narrator of their own story, the scribe of fate — but also its antagonist. With the bow forged from the very darkness that revealed the truth to them, they now write in shadows and fire, each arrow a word, each shot a sentence. The world calls them a villain, because villains tell the truth no one wants to hear.

They do not seek to be understood — only to finish the story their way.

APPEARANCE

This figure stands veiled in deep indigo robes, their face pale and half-concealed by long, pitch-black hair. A cross stitched into their matching cap hints at a past touched by faith. Their eyes, half-lidded and heavy, reflect loss more than fury. Slung across their back is not a pair of wings, but an intricately forged black bow — twisted and elegant, like something drawn from a forgotten scripture. This is not a weapon of war, but of purpose.

BEHAVIOR

Seth doesn't see a lot of care for the world anymore as they now believe that everyone that they care about will simply die, refusing to get attached to new people.

Seth is slowly becoming self-aware ever since discovering the Light of Truth, revealing that they are simply a puppet in a story.

Seth has bipolar disorder, causing them to have depression episodes where they will not be seen for days.

If Seth gets too overwhelmed or stressed, they will start violently shaking and their words will become slurred, as if they are drunk.

Seth is often silent, believing in the statement 'speak when spoken to' out of fear that someone will judge them or kill them again.

Seth's senses are now heightened ever since being killed and slowly becoming self-aware, causing them to know if something is wrong quicker than before.

Seth keeps people at arm’s length. Not because she doesn’t want connection, but because she fears destroying what she touches.

As a writer-turned-character, losing agency once nearly broke her. Now, she demands control—even if it means rewriting the rules.

Burns paper with old writings. Stares into ink like it holds the future. These acts calm her. Anchor her.

Her anger feels safer than her grief. She uses fury to mask how deeply she still feels.

Seth constantly wars with the remnants of her softer self. Some piece of her still aches for forgiveness, belonging, or even understanding—but “The Author” insists those desires are dangerous. She no longer trusts kindness. She trusts control.

When she looks in a mirror, Seth doesn’t always see herself. Sometimes it's the dreamer she used to be—hopeful, naive. Other times, it’s the faceless Author: eyes hollow, ink dripping from her mouth. Most mirrors in her world end up shattered.

MENTAL HEALTH/DISORDERS

Complex PTSD – The trauma of discovering the Light of Truth left deep psychological scars. She often relives the moment when her illusions burned, sometimes dissociating or going emotionally numb.

Schizotypal Traits – As “The Author,” she occasionally speaks or thinks in metaphors that blend fantasy and reality, sometimes unsettling others who don’t understand her worldview.

Hyper-introspective – She examines every thought, motive, and action with clinical sharpness. It’s exhausting, but she can’t not analyze.

Emotional Dysregulation (possible BPD traits) – Emotional whiplash between righteous fury and deep sorrow, especially when she feels misunderstood or cornered.

PHYSICAL HABITS

Traces glyphs or imaginary words in the air when deep in thought.

Taps fingers against her thigh in rhythmic sequences—writing silently.

Often stands in doorways, as if caught between leaving and staying.

RELATIONS

Person|(Status)|[Liking]|[Trust]|Reason (inspired by Cookie Star)

Artemis (Mother) - [89%] [65%] - Seth trusts Artemis but fears due to past experiences that Artemis will become like Atlas and Anastasia, causing them to always have a fear of them under a facade.

Archeon (Father) - [67%] [83%] - Archeon was never really around Seth, the final time that they met being during the Challenge, and before that was... when they were five. Nonetheless, they care for him.

Atlas (Grandfather) - [0%] [0%] - Seth absolutely hates Atlas after they found out what he had done to their mother. They can never view him the same. Atlas is now Dead

Anastasia (Grandmother) - [3%] [0%] - Seth had never truly met Anastasia, due to them always being in Atlas' abyss. They had only heard things that she would do when Artemis was trapped in the Minka.

Pancakepieman45 (Adoptive Grandfather) - [29%] [45%] - Seth doesn't quite like Pancake, claiming that he's too pushy on being their grandfather, and still doesn't quite trust them since the day that Artemis jumped in the abyss where he treated her like a child.

Daisy, Daisy Bell (Adoptive Cousin, Puppeteer) - [96%] [89%] - Seth enjoys Daisy, to the point that they gave up their soul for them. They want to see Daisy happy genuinely, but are a bit scared to speak to them, as they don’t want to mess anything up.

Zailyn (Aunt) - [87%] [59%] - Seth is also scared of Zailyn, not being able to have a proper conversation out of fear that Zailyn will hurt them since the Final Trial.

Ell (Friend) - [97%] [100%] - Ell has always been nice to Seth and has helped them in need, causing Seth to enjoy Ell’s company.

Star (Romantic Partner) - [100%] [100%] - Star has always protected Seth when in need, causing Seth to extremely like Star. They enjoy their company.

Zephyros (Friend…?) - [54%] [46%] - Seth is scared of Zephyros ever since they were revived due to the scare that Zephyros had given them.

Max Godspeed (Cousin figure) - [22%] [0%] - Seth thinks of Max as a cousin, but can no longer trust him after the straight jacket incident. They think he is dead and any form of him is House trying to mock her.

House (Enemy) - [0%] [0%] - Seth despises House due to hurting everyone that they were close to, and as well as House disfiguring their body and ripping their eyes out on multiple occasions.

Bakon_surviver (Acquaintance) - [13%] [3%] - Seth tries to stay far away from Bakon due to them only being an acquaintance, not wanting to get too attached and be hurt in the end.

POWERS

1. Final Draft

Fires a piercing arrow laced with dark script. If it hits, it silences the target for several seconds and causes damage over time, as if their narrative is unraveling. The arrow leaves glowing, runic text embedded in the target's body.

Visual: Arrow streaks with black and violet light, trails ink behind it.

Effect: Damage over time + silence/debuff.

2. Edit Line

The Author rewinds a brief moment of reality, dodging an incoming attack or repositioning themselves. The screen briefly glitches like a torn page, and they reappear behind their enemy — ready to rewrite the scene.

Visual: Flickers like crumpling paper being smoothed out.

Effect: Dash/backstep with frames and counter opportunity.

3. String Them Up

Targets a weakened enemy with a spectral string drawn from the Author’s bow. If the target’s health is low enough, they are strung up like a marionette and lifted off the ground — their model fades into inky dust as a page tears and vanishes. That character is removed from the fight — their role in the scene “cut.”

Visual: Black threads shoot forward, lift the target into the air. Their body turns to shadow, then to ink.

Effect: Execution; removes target from play (like a kill or phase skip).

4. Redacted Truth

Slams the bow into the ground, releasing a shockwave of black text and red lines that censor the battlefield. Enemies caught in the wave take reduced vision (fog/dark filter) and cannot use ultimate abilities for a short time.

Visual: Giant book sigil pulses out, red "censor bars" flash across the screen.

Effect: AOE ult suppression + mild disorientation.

5. Narrative Hook

Fires a hook arrow attached to a string of glowing ink. If it lands, it pulls the target toward the Author while briefly rooting them, as if they’ve been yanked deeper into the plot.

Visual: Ink-dipped hook with runes along the string.

Effect: Pull + root (short CC).

Songs

Playlist

Voice Claim

Tifa Lockhart - Final Fantasy VII

[traumacatholic]

i keep falling into sinful habits again and again. it hurts my heart so bad. can you please pray for me to overcome my addictions and to truly repent?

Of course! Also if you haven't done so already, I would look to see what Saints struggled with similar addictions. Because their stories can be a source of inspiration and strength, and you can ask for their intercession.

This booklet contains Scripture, Prayers, Saints, Novenas, a Rosary etc you can pray for the overcoming of addiction. At the bottom there are some resources for various organisations that support Christians through different kinds of addiction.

When it comes to habitual sin, I would also recommend really connecting with what St Maximilian Kolbe said here:

Whenever you feel guilty, even if it is because you have consciously committed a sin, a serious sin, something you have kept doing many, many times, never let the devil deceive you by allowing him to discourage you. Whenever you feel guilty, offer all your guilt to the Immaculate, without analyzing it or examining it, as something that belongs to her… My beloved, may every fall, even if it is serious and habitual sin, always become for us a small step toward a higher degree of perfection. In fact, the only reason why the Immaculate permits us to fall is to cure us from our self-conceit, from our pride, to make us humble and thus make us docile to the divine graces. The devil, instead, tries to inject in us discouragement and internal depression in those circumstances, which is, in fact, nothing else than our pride surfacing again. If we knew the depth of our poverty, we would not be at all surprised by our falls, but rather astonished, and we would thank God, after sinning, for not allowing us to fall even deeper and still more frequently.

And there is this prayer called 'The bondage of sin' by Saint John Henry Newman that is focused on habitual sin

You, O my Lord and God, you alone are strong; you alone are holy! You are the Sanctus Deus, Sanctus fortis -“Holy God, holy and strong!” You are the sanctity and the strength of all things. No created nature has any stay or subsistence in itself but crumbles and melts away, if you are not with it to sustain it. My God, you are the strength of the angels, of the saints in glory, of holy men on earth. No being has any sanctity or any strength apart from you. My God, I wish to adore you as such. I wish with all my heart to understand and to confess this great truth, that not only are you almighty, but that there is no might at all, or power, or strength, anywhere but in you. My God, if you are the strength of all spirits, oh, how preeminently are you my strength! Oh, how true it is, so that nothing is more so, that I have no strength but in you! I feel intimately, O my God, that whenever I am left to myself, I go wrong. As sure as a stone falls down to the earth if it is let go, so surely my heart and spirit fall down hopelessly if they are let go by you. You must uphold me by your right hand, or I cannot stand. How strange it is, but how true, that all my natural tendencies are toward sloth, toward excess, toward neglect of religion, toward neglect of prayer, toward love of the world, not toward love of You, or love of sanctity, or love of self-governance. I approve and praise what I do not do. My heart runs after vanities, and I tend to death; I tend to corruption and dissolution, apart from you, Deus immortalis. My God, I have had experience enough what a dreadful bondage sin is. If you are away, I find I cannot keep myself- however I wish it- and am in the hands of my own self-will, pride, sensuality, and selfishness. And they prevail with me more and more every day, until they are irresistible. In time the old Adam within me gets so strong that I become a mere slave. I confess things to be wrong which nevertheless I do. I bitterly lament over my bondage, but I cannot undo it. Oh, what tyranny is sin! It is a heavy weight that cripples me- and what will be the end of it? By your all-precious merits, by your almighty power, I entreat you, O my Lord, to give me life and sanctity and strength! Deus sanctus, give me holiness; Deus fortis, give me strength; Deus immortalis, give me perseverance. Sanctus Deus, Sanctus fortis, Sanctus immortalis, miserere nobis (have mercy upon me). Amen

I hope that these resources are of help to you. May God bless you and comfort you

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Christianities: The First Five Hundred Years

Paula Fredriksen is an eminent figure in the field of early Christianity and ancient Judaism, and her knowledge of the historical and religious circumstances surrounding these faiths is well-established. Her writings are essential reading for those curious about how religion, history, and culture interacted in the ancient Mediterranean.

Ancient Christianities: The First Five Hundred Years by Paula Fredriksen conveys precisely written ideas from the result of meticulously analyzing a great deal of historical data. Different branches of Christianity emerged simultaneously in reaction to a flourishing Judaism and an established religion that was not dead but was instead referred to as "paganism" by Christians. By delving into the subject of ancient "Christianities," new light is shown on the religious practices of the ancient cultures of the Mediterranean and the Middle East during the latter 200 years of the 1st century CE. Christian, Pagan, and Jewish faiths are discussed. The book itself contributes significantly to the history of Christianity and explores aspects of other religions.

Paula Fredriksen is a historian of early Christianity and William Goodwin Aurelio Professor of Scripture at Boston University. Early in her career, Fredriksen published writing on topics such as Christian antisemitism, Judaism, and Christianity. Now, in Ancient Christianities, Fredriksen traces the history of Christianity in the ancient Mediterranean from its nativity up to the 5th century. Throughout history, many people believed in the figure of Jesus transforming countries into monotheistic societies, and Fredriksen provides incalculable depth and insight into this process.

From its beginnings as a messianic sect within Second Temple Judaism to its ultimate inclusion into the late Roman imperial government and rise to prominence in the Western world following Roman rule, Fredriksen emphasizes the whole historical trajectory of Christianity from the 1st through 7th centuries. She ties together the intricate network of interactions among supernatural beings, the celestial bodies, spirits, and prophetic forces existing in the ancient "flat-disced" Earth and geocentric universe as well as the many ways in which the Pagan, Jewish, and Christian occupants of the Mediterranean interacted with these beings.

Fredriksen imparts her profound understanding of the history of Christianity and how the doctrines of the Abrahamic faiths have evolved through the ages in clear and understandable writing. In her view, the history of ancient “Christianities” is more deep and nuanced than previously thought, and she intends to "introduce the reader to the complexities and ambiguities, the ironies and surprises and the twists and turns" to reveal this. If you ask Fredriksen, the Christian faith does not have its roots just in Jesus, there is more to the origin story. Through her writing, she hopes to convey the idea that a "large cast of characters" is responsible for shaping modern religion.

According to her, the narrative and development of "Christianities" encompasses a wide range of characters, including aristocratic patrons, eccentric ascetics, gods, devils, angels, magicians, astrologers, and regular folks. The author examines the gradual conversion of numerous non-monotheistic faiths to monotheism over several centuries, drawing parallels and differences across various ethnic and theological traditions.

Theology, Israel, the impact of social factors including diversity, the necessity for governmental control, and persecutions on the development of Christianity are all covered in depth in the chapters that follow. Further discussions touch on the various regions impacted by the Second Temple Matrix, the connections between Jews and pagans, and the incorporation of Jewish people and culture into Greco-Roman civilization.

Historians, theologians, and anyone interested in the origins of one of the world's largest religious groups would benefit from reading this book, which focuses on the transition of Israel and the Jewish message of the end of time to the emergence of different gentile Christianities. With her unconventional viewpoint and extensive knowledge of the subject, Fredriksen offers readers an opportunity to learn something new. Fredriksen has been an excellent resource for scholars of global religions for decades, and her work is truly unique and rich in history; as a result, this is a recommended book. For further reading materials, readers would find Bart D. Ehrman's The Triumph of Christianity: How a Forbidden Religion Swept the World (2018) and Diarmaid MacCulloch's Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years (2009) to be suitable companion reads.

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