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strawberry-nugget · 3 years

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𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚

𝘼/𝙉: This is my piece for my very own collab 'Ice Cold Heart' and also my excuse to delve into some more canon rather than fanon Hawks, because canon Hawks has been clouding my mind lately and I needed to get this out

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Hawks/fem!Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Angst, mentions of sexual themes

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

"I'm in love with you"

The precious meaning of a phrase is only defined by the weight you decide to put on it. And today you have decided that with your words you'd give birth to what's only going to give you and him pure, undefined pain. An elephant in the room if you may, an ogre of emotions that otherwise would be unwanted to stand between the two of you.

You think 'otherwise' as if it's not unwanted already. The unrequited nature of your sentence will linger in your heart more than you'd like to admit, but you're ready to lift your eyes and meet his golden ones, ready to be judged with the coldness of his gaze, ready to be treated like you've expected you will when coming into his office.

You still have that hidden truth to spill to him, and it surpasses the one you spilt already, but you hold your dry tongue in your mouth for now.

What could possibly only hurt like a kitten's scratch -his mute, his echoing silence- is rather twisting numerous sharp daggers in your chest, twirling over the wound of your feelings, ravaging any hope for salvation you had been left with. You wonder how your friends ever managed to convince you that the hardest thing about confessing was the part where you had to build up your courage.

Your courage never suffered from a hit as you walked to his office, despite being terrified for what you had to say to him. Paperwork in your hands and none of a nervous trembling in your lips, iron clad feet clashing with the tiles of the building. You've made your decision to get rid of all those feelings, not wanting to spend another night bent on his desk or sprawled under him, only for him to act like he barely knows you in the office and then to be all greedy and sweet in public events.

His games, that god awful behavior of his, the way he chooses to use you -even if you feel like you use him to, to turn him into something that he's not with your imagination- you're tired of everything. And then there's also the fact that he's a traito-

"Aha"

The answer to your confession wasn't supposed to affect you either for better or for worse, rather this confession was an egotistical act, Mirko, or any of your friends previously said, that one had to endure in order to take the next big step. Whether that was a step accompanied by your desired person, or a step to redeeming the anathema a rejection could have caused.

Frankly it wasn't that the golden orbs staring back at you were rejecting. If anything, they didn't bore into yours in a way that left you hollow, but they didn't fill your heart with dreams either. And what your original intentions begged to stand up for was that you didn't care of any significant reciprocation.

You wish you didn't care where those words you had uttered had left Hawks, or in what inner conflict they had found him in. But you know, he won't be in any conflict about what you have to say, what you've kept inside for too long, what has bled onto your morals like a run over animal on the street, left to rot and seep into the road as it disintegrates under the sun or the cold.

Unbeknownst to you, deep down in his head, Hawks doesn't know how to feel, or how to react; its all too sudden for him to process. The way you spoke of it so casually yet, so lightheartedly, your tone suggesting that you let your most vulnerable object of thought slip through your fingertips, like you let it fall out of your head and shutter on the ground.

"I-"

It isn't much, just the start of a sentence that he hopes he could compose, but the way your brows furrow at the sound of his voice does nothing other than startle him.

You should have known, he's not going to give in to such demands. Love, relationships, he doesn't have time, space, a mindset, doesn't need you to be that one for him, he wants all the stability he can get when he wants it, however he wants it and he's gone when he gets it, swift as a bird, cold as stone. That doesn't necessarily tickle a nerve inside of him, you know the rules, even if he feels bad about you suffering like this there's nothing he can do -he doesn't even know how- and he chooses to let you speak, get it out, before he has to go and be a hero for the day.

"No, no save it," You wave him off "here's my resignation"

The authority in your voice isn't the one he was used to. As his eyes blink, honey colored orbs taking in the un-glory of your posture, he's met with the sight of your hands hugging around your own form; the ultimate sign of vulnerability, uncertainty.

"You don't have to quit because you fell in love with me"

'You fell in love with me' he speaks of the words so little, as if they're dirty, as if you're in this with yourself and they're so suffocating that he can't stand them, only to softly graze your ear with vore intentions, to tell you that you don't have to quit, to urge you to not take this too serious.

Your feelings aren't serious.

"I do" You speak, trying to jab him back with some crafted poison in your tone. But you know what you're going to say next will definitely do it for him, it'll poison him we'll, whether it makes you endangered or not. "I was on patrol when I saw you doing business with Dabi, so save it."

The weight of those words is what finally serves as a huge hit to your courage. You've outed yourself greatly and now the chewing on your bottom lip is profound and painful to a great amount. Hawks' face is contorted in a terrifying darkness, thick brows clenched above his eyes and lips pushed into a thin line, nose scrunched.

"Listen-"

"I just don't want to be a part of this"

That's when he knows he has to be forgiving.

Hawks isn't used to you, a fierce warrior of a hero, clenching your jaw tensely or furrowing your brows in sorrows. He isn't used to you being so upfront with your emotions either; whatever the two of you have shared in the past has been in words of reluctance and mind states of regret, each one desperate to prevent your hearts from getting hurt.

He knows his heart won't get hurt though, it's shielded way too well inside his chest, in such way he feels hollow, driven by anything other than the stupid organ. You should have known, he tells himself, before you got involved so deeply, but he left you with no time for thoughts like these, wiggling you under his wing while biting your skin instead of pecking it.

Just as Hawks has always known that he's going to hurt you no matter you rejecting labels or bottling feelings up and absolutely forbidding the mention of them, it's obvious that things can't go his way. He isn't used to you eyeing him with pain gathering in the corners of your eyes, but he's willing to play the part you're setting up for him right on the spot. Even if he has to admit, the thought of being painted in this color jabs him just like knowing things won't go back to the way they were between the two of you.

He doesn't mind. He had to let it go because by the time you know about the truth you won't even remember his face, or the way his voice sounds, and he shouldn't think about this but he does, in a way, in the very back of his head.

His mission, he thinks, is far more important than his personal life -it's a top priority for greater good.

Once greater good is achieved he's going to be able to invest in a personal life that involves feelings and excitement and even the noble pleasure of being able to choose between priorities. Right?

So, whatever he's feeling now -the tight knot in his throat, the painful lack of oxygen in his throat, his gut twisting and churning and his limbs alternating from spasming to going numb- he has to ignore.

But for the worse part he doesn't really know how to act. The confession that has startled him is still lingering on repeat in the back of his head, fueling the small ignition of a flame that begs to put you on a pedestal, or rather, it began to make his mouth move on it own, to tell how that he too wishes he could be with you as more than this secretly exclusive arrangement you've set.

Maybe, his heart pleads, maybe he can tell you about his mission and clear up the confusion.

He wonders if that would be a part you'd want him to play for you.

"I won't give you away. So long as you don't involve me in this, I don't have ulterior motives for protecting civilians."

"I-" He starts, darkness bottling up in his gut, stomach falling after going utterly numb. Somehow he knows he's not going to utter a word if he keeps acting like that.

"Hawks-"

"You'll get over it."

It's sharp and it's short and it sends heavy, lethal daggers to your chest, so much that you can feel your heart beginning to slip from in between your ribs, out of chest and onto the floor of his office. It'd be a mess to clean, the blood if your agony and your heartache rightfully on his floor. For him to look down on, this time, physically.

"I will"

He knows his words hurt, just by the mere look your face contorts and he won't utter a word about what you just said, he'll link you to Endeavor and when the time comes you'll know. His cause is greater than your heart breaking, greater than chasing after that small arrangement he's made so he can get physical release from time to time.

It's better not to react. Not to terrorize you into anything for if you're afraid you might out the wrong truth to the heroes in your circle and his plan -the commission's plan- will fail and the heroes will lose this war. And he can't lose.

You want to look at him with menace and disgrace, not to atone him for the way he's making you feel; crashing your dreams, poisoning your morals and your thoughts, living down to your expectations so much that you don't know what to think of him.

Like he did when you saw him after closed doors, cold and unapproachable, to the point he's scary. Manipulative so much that you found your way under him without even realizing how fast it happened, what impact it had to you to get involved with him. You just want to be out, unwielded from his spider's web and latch yourself into something real and kind, to serve your purpose as a hero. As a human.

When he opens his mouth again you're not scared anymore, of what he may do to you, of what will happen next.

"Hand me your papers so I can sign them"

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#hawks x reader #bnha #hawks #bnha scenarios #bnha hawks #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x y/n #bnha fanfiction #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks bnha #bnha angst #hawks angst

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kiame-sama · 4 years

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Yandere familial grand zeno general hcs pls?~

- You will play when Zen-oh-sama wants you to play and not a moment later.

- He will odds are cling to you much like a child would to a parent, so he will hover around you as often as possible and will demand cuddles. Make sure to cuddle the dear, he is the mental state of an unrestricted child with limitless powers, cuddling helps keep him calm.

- No one other than Daishinkan (and maybe Goku) is allowed to interrupt cuddle-time and anyone who does interrupt cuddle-time will feel the wrath of the omni-king in all his glory. Cuddle-time is key to helping Zen-oh-sama stay calm among others so any interruption will be treated as committing a crime.

- No leaving. If he has become attached to you, then your new purpose in life is to keep him happy. If you leave, it will only upset him to the point there may be several universes destroyed. Unless you want the blood of billions- perhaps even trillions- of life-forms on your hands, you will do well to stay somewhere nearby the omni-king.

- Naturally, he will have Daishinkan give you whatever material goods you may desire, as well as making you invincible to everything- himself included- so there is no accidental death on your part. You will live an eternal life, with all you wish to have at your finger-tips, but you do not get to leave or die.

- When the two Zen-ohs are together, you will have one hell of a time keeping them both amused and at peace. This is easier on you because they can play together and give you a much needed rest but you will be expected to soothe things between them if and when they get into a fight. Patience is your best friend and impartiality between the two when it comes to arguments is key.

- Get used to being addressed and referred to as their parent along with subsequent parental titles. ie “Momma” “Papa” ect.

- The gods and angels will treat you as if you are the parent figure of Zen-oh and may look to you for help should the omni-king(s) become frustrated with them for whatever reason. You have greater say than any of the angels other than Daishinkan and your word is law, do try to keep yourself in check, because no one else will keep you in check. By terms not your own, you have been declared the new ‘ruler’ of the multi-verse thanks to your sway over the omni-king(s) so please try to do right by others.

#dbz x reader #yandere dbz #yandere dbz x reader #yandere zeno #yandere zen-oh #zeno x reader platonic #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere x reader #x reader #yandere asks #yandere #tw yandere #tw kidnapping

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tales-unique · 3 years

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FAULTS OF THE HEART II

Chapter 2

That night is, quite possibly, the worst night of your life, so far. No matter how you try to position yourself you manage to aggravate your wound, rendering any progress towards sleep null and void in a matter of seconds. You hiss in frustration, sitting up after what feels like hours of fighting, deciding that there was no sense in trying while you were so wound up.

You decide instead to sate your curiosity about the place you have been brought to, starting with the room you’re in. It’s bathed in iridescent moonlight, the fire having long since burnt out, which gives it an almost ethereal glow. In its prime it must have been such a beautiful place to read and study but now it sits abandoned, a sad echo of former glory. All the books, though dusty and stained with age, look to be in good condition and, despite your fatigue, you untangle yourself from your makeshift bed to peruse them. As you edge towards them the wood creaks beneath your feet and you freeze, listening for any signs of life other than yourself in the building. When you hear nothing you release the breath you had been holding, gazing in awe at all the different books before you. Some of the names you couldn’t even understand, their beautiful cursive calligraphy written in a language that was foreign to you. Perhaps the man of the house was an avid collector of interesting books? You gently trace your finger over the spines, ignoring the burn of protest in your shoulder as you move away towards an old desk that sits under the bare window. The wood is chipped and covered in a layer of dust just like the rest of the room, the items scattered about its surface also buried. Your hand disturbs a stack of papers, the paper parched from years of exposure to the sun, to see if there’s anything you can gleam from them, but the ink is so faded that you barely make out the words. You frown at the inkwell that sits near a stack of books, some of which look like writing journals, the quill stuck inside the dried up ink. The feathering had mostly vanished, decomposed until barely any were left to cling to the brittle spine. This was someone's private space once, but not any longer. All at once the feeling that you were an invader hits you like a tidal wave and, with one last somber look, you back away from the desk to look at the door. For all you knew the man could have locked you inside, to curb any possible excursions without him knowing. The thought sent a spark of fear shooting through your system and with a brisk pace you came face to face with the door. It’s old, just as the rest of the room is, and the ornate handle is a deep brass colour under the layer of dust and grime. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle, sucking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself. Quickly, you tell yourself, before your fear petrifies you. The grip you have on the door handle is so tight you barely register how your knuckles are turning white, or how your shoulder aches in protest at the awkward angle you're bending at, as you peek out into the dark hallway. After a cautious once over you tentatively step out, careful to tiptoe your way down the hallway so you wouldn’t alert anyone to your presence. But it was already too late for that. The man, the lone inhabitant of the abandoned place, was already awake and wandering himself when you decided to leave your room. He had been angsty knowing there was someone, a human no less, in his castle, and so, like you, sleep evaded him. Your movements were easy to trace, the vampiric blood that flowed through his veins heightening his senses to an alarming degree. Hidden in the looming shadows he follows you, all while you are unaware, to see just what it is you’re doing wandering around at such an hour. At the end of the hallway you find a grand staircase and a hazy memory clouds your mind. You remember being swept up these stairs in the arms of your nameless rescuer, the receding image of the almost comically tall doors receding as your vision grew darker, your consciousness slipping in and out. There was even a trail of drying blood leading up to where you had been left, noticed only now that you were actively looking at the floor beneath your feet. You grimace, making sure to descend on the other side of the stairs. Once at the bottom you come to stand in front of those large doors, ever imposing, and a sense of apprehension settles like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach. Although you had no idea where you were the danger of leaving while still injured with no means to protect yourself loomed threateningly, and that alone made you hesitant. Swallowing your fear you gingerly tread towards the doors, careful in opening them lest you further injure yourself. Whatever you had been expecting, or not , when you stepped out into the night, you could have said with certainty that it wouldn’t have been impaled corpses . You freeze, your blood like ice. Corpses. Impaled. On spikes . Any and all doubts you had about the dangers outside being greater than the ones inside were now none-existent. The man who lived here, the one who had saved your life , was the same man who had done this to these people. A rational person with a sane mind wouldn’t willingly do this to someone, right? No, which meant you had to leave, and quickly, or you could be next. But, oh God , how would you get past them? You barely had time to register that they were more mummified than fresh, having been there for a while, since you were back-peddling as quickly as your legs could take you. Until your back hits something solid and more alive than the doors. You let out a scream, partially from shock and from the pain sent rocketing through your arm, twisting sharply on your heel to see the doors cast open wide and none other than the man standing there, blocking your path. “You’re up late,” he speaks with a casualness that unnerves you more than anything, his gaze solemn. Your chest heaves as you stare at him with wide eyes, panic surging through your veins. Inside you're a mess of emotions that will not be tamed. Utter chaos and turmoil. When you don't respond he lets out a defeated sigh, a weary sound that betrays how worn down he has become. "If you wanted to leave you could have just said so," he muses, frowning when you recoil away from him when he moves to pass you. He stops to look at the corpses that frame the entrance but there's no feeling there. Not anymore. His hate and anger and pain has faded into nothingness, a void he had hoped he would never fall into. You watch him like a hawk the entire time, body tense. At any point he could turn on you and you had to be ready . But the moment doesn't come. There's just him, standing illuminated in the moonlight, broken. "Where would I even go, if I could leave?" The words are quiet but you can't stand the stifling silence any longer. "You could go anywhere," he answers easily, resolute. You scoff, brushing your fingertips over your bandaged wound. It stings and you wince with a hiss. "And do what? I have no money, my arm is useless right now. I'd be dead in a day or two. And that's if I don't get found by the Baron's men first." It's true that the Baron was still a threat to you, even more so now that his hunting party had been cut down, so blood would be demanded. Just not yours if you could help it. "Who are you, anyway?" You ask, changing the subject. There's so much you want to ignore at that moment so you focus on him. There's a moment of silence before he finally responds and his voice has an edge to it that you can’t quite place. You get the feeling that he’d much rather remain nameless to you, but out of politeness he must give in. How quaint. "Your people call me Alucard," he replies, turning to look at you expectantly. You quickly stumble out your name, suddenly feeling like a caged animal under the starkness of his golden gaze. They almost glow in the light, giving him a predatory air. "Well," you clear your throat, quickly stepping past the, ahem, decorations , to stand next to him at the top of the stone steps, "thank you, Alucard. I'd have died if you hadn't helped me." It's the truth; you owe him your life, and he knows it. "You are welcome," he responds slowly, awkwardly, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes before they turn heavenward. "A beautiful night, isn't it?" He's trying to ease the tension and even though it doesn't help much you appreciate the sentiment. "Yes, it's nice," you answer softly. Looking at him as he is in that moment you find that he doesn’t seem so intimidating as you had first thought and you feel ashamed for having judged him so harshly so quickly. Not that it doesn’t diminish what you have learnt from your little excursion outside the castle. After all, there were dead bodies on his front step. Maybe there was more to this than first met the eye, maybe not, but you were determined to discover the truth.

#Castlevania #Castlevania Netflix #Castlevania Imagine #Castlevania Imagines #Alucard #Alucard Imagine #Alucard Imagines #Adrian Tepes #Adrian Tepes Imagine #Adrian Tepes Imagines #Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

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RP meme from Werewolf: The Apocalypse "Kinfolk: Unsung Heroes" Introduction & Ch.1

"I have normal human fears and frailties, despite my faith."

"I’m terrified I won’t be there when they need me, that I won’t be able to give fully of myself to save them when the time comes. And the price of my failure, for them, would be too high."

"It was like nothing else mattered, nothing else could fill my eyes like the sight of him."

"Now, of course, I realize I was in shock at the time clammy skin, disorientation, that sort of thing."

"That night misted over my senses; even now, it seems more like a vivid dream than anything else."

"I had to watch. I couldn’t turn away."

"That night, I saw I had to protect him. He needed me, and it’s just as simple as that."

"Let’s just say what I know has come in handy."

"The best folks give the most of whatever they can."

"Think about it — would you like to go through childbirth every nine months from age 14 to 50?"

"We’re human beings, dammit!"

"I’ll always do anything I can to help, even if I’m royally pissed; I don’t expect thanks or money, either. But it would be nice to get some respect."

"I'm not alone in saying that I hate being patronized."

"Give an inch, they’ll take a mile" is what some of them think about us."

"The rhetoric a lot of them use sounds like the same crap bigots give when trying to “justify” why women and minorities shouldn’t have equal rights."

"Just once, I’d like to feel like an equal, a partner in all this."

"Ever think about how hard things would be without us?"

"I see by your scowl that doesn’t satisfy you."

"Think of it as normal family responsibilities, magnified a thousand times."

"It’s practically medieval!"

"I mean, it looks like such fun to turn into a wolf."

"There are connections like you wouldn’t believe. Completely outside the law, these people can get dirt on the opposition, perform b&e without leaving a trace and provide muscle no other boss can beat. All they ask is some capital, some boltholes and a little legal cover. Sweetest deal in the world!"

"What do I think about it? Imagine what it’d be like for someone to call you and say you’d missed out on a million dollars because you got one wrong number on the lottery ticket."

"Some are too caught up in the things of humans —chasing after money to have what advertisers insist they can’t do without, living their soap-opera lives and not seeing what the world is really all about. I pity them."

"There is sweeter revenge than death."

"I laugh with joy thinking how your heart will burst should you ever have to face him in battle."

"It’s a great honor to be who I am, who we are. But it’s scary, too."

"Families can quarrel, snarl and cut one another to the quick, but in times of trouble, they’ll stick together."

"God, Allah, Gaia, the Great Spirit or whoever gave us this job, so we have to do the best we can with it."

"Blood also fetters our lives in hatred as well as love, I’m afraid to say."

"I’m not saying this is a fact, but if she was abused, it might explain some things."

"I’m sorry, I can’t quite imagine a moment of sensual passion with someone I don’t love, much less hardly know!"

"In other words, it’s the connections that’re vital, not the money or the mileage."

"Many have wealth, but not all; lineage, not money, is most important."

"That’s a heavy price to pay in a harsh world."

"Self-sacrifice is also important."

"Sacrifice comes in terms of emotional costs, too."

"It’d be pretty stupid for me to become a gun-toting mercenary, for example."

"To put a positive spin on all this, I guess I’d say it’s nice to be needed."

"I admit I don’t really understand what it is or when it’ll be, but many’s the Irish tale where a small oversight wreaked terrible disaster."

"So I got online and made a few phone calls and tried to get the “truth” in as many forms as I could."

"The word “family” has come to mean a lot more things than the 1950s concept of mommy, daddy and two perfect children."

"Raising children is no bed of roses, either."

"Kids love to test their parents and see just how far they can push and still get away with it."

"There’s no way this could be easy."

"Some days, I have to bite my tongue, and that does get old."

"I was just too stupid and blind to see it."

"I always felt like I was split, alone, part of something I couldn’t name."

"Listen, you have no idea what it’s like to watch someone you love slowly lose her mind."

"There are some, well, bimbos."

"You know, the ones that like to control CEOs and topple careers."

"Here, try a piece of this chicken gizzard. I get ’em real cheap down at the butcher shop. No one else seems to want these extra parts. I grill ’em with a little barbecue sauce and honey mustard. Delicious! Thanksgiving’s always the best time, though. Then there’s turkey necks for the takin’!"

"Our families are pretty big, and we figure even the most distant cousin or friend of a friend’s part of the group."

"I’m sure you know, working with people all the time, how far thanks and a friendly smile go when you’re dead on your feet. It’s like the sun’s come out on a cloudy day."

"I mean, some of that stuff is long outdated!"

"It’s more a matter of belief and pureness of spirit, if you ask me."

"The Network also has a lot of splinter groups that organize among youth, educators, environmentalists and so on."

"We’re steadfast and steady, yet vibrant and alive, warriors, artists, writers, musicians beyond compare."

"I don’t know if we can save them, but we won’t give up."

"To be tested and accepted by the greatest warriors in the world — no greater honor can we ask for."

"Think of us as the tiny little parts that hold a machine together. Maybe it could function without us, but not without a lot of wear and tear on the system. You get my drift."

"If leader seems weak, I test him. He shows strength, I stop."

"They’re the ones who are causing all the problems by rebelling against the people in charge. They need to settle down and just be content with what they’ve got, if you want my opinion."

"Why should I worry? It’s a clear day. Traffic’s light, but walking’s fine. You get to see where you’re going. I’ll hit a little town ’fore dark and trade a song or story for some food and a piece of floor."

"Revolutions are intolerable and inexcusable."

"The aristocracy attained their positions for a reason, for only the most worthy were chosen to lead, after all. If the

lower classes overthrow the aristocrats, anarchy is the sure result. One need only look at history; Can the Russians truly say their lot improved after they murdered the Romanovs?"

"History has always been a beloved subject to me."

"I pity those souls, displaced by fortune, who are ignorant of their heritage. How can one know who he is without knowing where he comes from? A man — or woman — is the sum of all who came before."

"Money is not the issue; many great families lost their fortunes, yet retain their nobility."

"It’s a poor teacher who doesn’t learn from her student; in this way, the knowledge of both increases."

"Dreams, of course, are the pathways of our souls; here rest our secret desires, fears and hopes."

"You doubt me. You don’t speak against me, but I can see your heart is dubious."

"There’s no greater glory than to serve the destiny of the universe."

"The lacerations looked exactly like the work of sharp teeth, deep into his flesh."

"I won’t go s’far as to say there’s undying loyalty, but we do have a lot of respect for each other."

"Were I as capable as my ancestors, I’d kill you now and never spare a second thought."

"No atonement can replace those lost children."

"Thus far, we have been lucky, but it’s just a matter of time before someone we don’t want sneaks in. It’s not that I want to close ranks by any means; I just wish we paid a little closer attention to who came in from the cold."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you think we’re a dime a dozen. I’d like to believe we’re a little more special than most."

"We’ve built too much for a rotten apple to spoil it all."

"I don’t believe this guy; it seems almost too perfect to be true!"

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay memes #Werewolf the Apocalypse #wta #World Of Darkness #owod #kinfolk

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crispycrimebrulee · 4 years

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Chrollo x Reader: ~Heart of Hermes~

Part 1: Legends & Ghosts Are One in the Same

The air at the end of a warm, summery month always carries the memories of adventures from earlier days, letting nostalgia course through souls as it passes by. Much like the wind and nostalgic summer dreams, the last days of August were sweet and fleeting. However, the summer days and adventures are only fleeting to those who have something to return to at the end of the summer; school, jobs, responsibilities, taught ties to society and such. Some rare, eccentric people will find a way to be away from such ties, being self employed or free from responsibilities like school. Alas it is still the same as being tied down, but with only half an anchor. The truly free souls, away from society and its constructs, are ghosts. Not to say that our dearly departed fellow friends are better off, no. The ghosts that slip past the systems and norms, the gated constructs of the world, those that slip by those confines are truly free. Albeit, they tend to be criminals, or legends, to which, who’s really to say they can’t be both? Who’s to say… you can’t be both? Here you are, y/n, away from it all, yet involved in the thick of it. Not a single responsibility to return to, not a single person, not a single construct, not even… taxes. Taxes always seem to be one of those things people like to avoid. A ghost, a legend. Free to roam the earth and whatever it is she has to offer, and she offers it all. It’s yours to take, so why let it sit by and collect dust? The best at taking the world for what she is, are thieves, or rather, to be respectful, someone with a deep appreciation for any and all items so much to the effect that they take it. Money, books, jewels, priceless artifacts, all yours if you so choose it to be. So, you chose, y/n, to be a ghost.

Picking yourself up from the bench, you made your way home. Home never really had a set place, moreso it was really where you decided to place yourself while you did your occupation. This time around, you had managed to swindle your way into a hotel room in Mimbo Republic, close to your next job. The park you had been seated in was just outside the Museum of Minerva, a museum dedicated to documenting and collecting the advancements of art, science, technology and architecture from thousands of years ago. It held ancient, nearly sacred text that pushed the boundaries of human knowledge as it stood. You’d been studying the layout of it for a week now, determined to find the best point of entry. What reason did you have for getting in there? Entrance was free after all, and all exhibits were open. If you wanted books or materials you simply had to walk in and find it. A book in plain view in the library section of the museum had caught your eye, no less than a week ago, about the history of the museum. Listing the architectural process, the founders, the individuals who funded the building, the types of work and who donated artifacts was listed inside of the book; a small diary of the life of the museum. However, in the margins of the pages were other small secrets, visible enough if you spread the book wide, nearly popping the seams. In the margins, mentioned stories of Hermes, the greek god of messengers, and his determination to give Athena a gift only she would love. A museum, a collection of knowledge and art and all things for advancements, was the gift he chose. Elated, she felt as though she must return his favor. In return, she crafted a vault, full of ancient, first edition books, original works of literature, original blueprints of architecture, and knowledge beyond the capacity any mere person could behold. A sphere shaped room, only accessible by key and extreme crafty work, could this vault be accessed. The key, the Heart of Hermes: alexandrite, the gemstone of Hermes himself. A dazzling green and purple gem, crafted into the shape of a heart. Over the eons of time, this gem has been lost, found, and lost again, without any real knowledge of what it belongs to. Now, there was a place for it: the hidden room in the Museum of Minerva, a place sealed away with endless pools of information. Were you meant to find it? Obviously. There were two things that you needed in order to safely and accurately carry out your plan: the architectural blueprints of the Museum of Minerva and the gem. The main point was, where would this gem be? You’d done extensive research over the past few days, looking into various museums, online archives and the like, doing your best to discover where it could be, hidden somewhere in the world. So far, nothing had come up in regards to your precious Heart of Hermes, but some information on where you could obtain the blueprints for the Museum. Of course, these were in the museum itself, in the archives of the Museum itself. The archives seemed to be in the basement area of the Museum, where they kept seasonal pieces, or other artifacts for exhibits in rotation. This would be your target for your next mission, the blueprints.

Upon reaching halfway to your hotel, you passed by a restaurant popular to high status mafia men in the area. Occasionally you would see them there, but you’d seen them there more often as the days had passed, and you’d begun to suspect that there was some interesting information floating about the area. Of course, as fools go, mafia men always spoke about things in public settings as to seem innocent, or as if they belong in the area. Slowing down your pace, you came to a leisurely walk, absently checking your phone as you did so. Two men were seated in front of the restaurant, casually smoking and talking about upcoming events. As you passed, a snippet of conversation was picked up.

“Will you be present at the auction?”, one asked, tapping his cigarette

“After that massacre 4 years ago?”, the other hissed in response, “not fuckin’ likely. It’s at the same place too. Ridiculous.”

“Well, some upscale museum in Mimbo Republic is auctionin’ off some gems. You know your wife likes those. Maybe she’ll forgive you if you picked it up” the first one stated, chuckling into his drink.

He received a glare in response, and you’d walked off, mulling over the new found information.

The auction in question, in regards to the massacre, was a mafia supported auction in Yorknew City; annually inviting mafia members to show off their wealth by bidding for strange and expensive items from around the world. It only made sense that a precious gem could be found in such a place, and even more interesting that an upscale museum would be placing some items there as well. There are only so many assumptions to make, really. The Museum of Minerva was as upscale and high regard as one could imagine. Precious gems, from aforementioned museums as well? The chances of it being the Heart of Hermes was favorably high. This information, coupled with a plan you were actively forming in your head, you were about to get this party started. You finally made your way to your hotel room, and once you got settled into your room, you checked for the next day's weather, seeing as you had a museum to visit tomorrow.

A lovely red shirt, with some black leather pants and black boots to match. Opening your duffle bag, you pulled out a set of small steel balls that you’d need for your little plan. These small balls were rollers: tiny cameras that can fit within vents and drains, so you wouldn’t have the potential of being caught somewhere you shouldn’t be, like snooping in no access zones. Putting them in your pocket, you made your way out of your hotel and on your way to the Minerva Museum. The Minerva Museum, a stunning sight indeed. Staggeringly tall as it was also wide, it put many other well known museums to shame. Classic ionic greek architecture, sleek as it was, the pillars being made of stark white marble with wisps of gray in them. The museum was meant to resemble the awe inspiring image of Olympus Temple, but in a calmer sense; without all the wild, godly glory. The warm air caressed your cheek gently as you climbed the steps of the museum, letting the cool air contrast in your presence as you entered under the marble archway and into the building. Standing in the archway, you put your hand in your pocket, touching the rollers. Grabbing your phone, you made sure the camera feature and video were connected before proceeding inside. Now, to start your little matter of getting to where you needed to be: the basement. Clearly, access to the basement would only be allowed for staff, so getting in there would be a little tricky if left to your own devices. Walking towards the Roman History section of the museum after paying a gratitude to the museum, you looked up at signs, passed by doors and security gates, looking for telltale signs of basement access. You went down a flight of stairs and continued walking. Upon passing by a door, you noticed the keycard scanners and smiled just a little bit. Pretty basic security for such a high regard museum. Taking a greater note, all those that were staff not only had a keycard on a lanyard around their neck, but one clipped to their back pocket. Passing by a small group of 4 staff members as you rounded the corner, you pushed through the crowd, receiving a glare or two from the staff members, to which you shrugged in response. They walked off, and so did you, having slipped two keycards off the back pocket off the staff. Exiting the Roman History section, you traveled down another small flight of stairs, and you walked through to the French Art exhibit, and a door caught your eye: STAFF ONLY: FLRS B TO F written in bold on the door. Staff passed in and out of the door via keycard, and you took note to the exhibit you were in, and where the door was. You walked off, a little slower this time, actually thinking about admiring the art. Now, walking some ways away for about 20 minutes, you went up a flight of stairs. As you walked by, you passed by a man, and his aura was quite…menacing, in a way. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught slight features of him; steely grey eyes and a gentle but attractive face. Dark hair, and a soft green bandana over his forehead. Interesting choice in fashion, but you weren’t one to judge. You could also see that you had caught his attention, and he was stealing a look at you as well, but you slowly turned your gaze to the art you were passing by.

Upon leaving the museum through the back exit, you were now in the gardens of the museum. You scanned the area for vents along the ground or middle of the wall. Upon seeing a vent, you walked by it, pulling out your phone and casually dropping the rollers onto the ground and willing them to move into the vent. Opening up the camera system on your phone, you played a bit of a remote control game, using your nen to control the rollers in the vent. Forward a bit, but too far was a dead end. You brought them back, nearly to where you’d made them enter and went forward again. You noticed a bend in the vent going left, and you took the corner and after a good 10 minutes or so, you were now approaching another vent. Letting the balls slip through the slits in the grate, you rotated the rollers, and had to keep yourself from gasping too loud. The cameras showed that you were now in a staff area, given away by the door in the distance: STAFF ONLY: FLRS B TO F but now backwards, but this is where you were surely supposed to be, and this is where you should be later tonight. Calling back the rollers, you pretend to fix your boot as you scoop them up and put them back in your pocket. At this point, you’d seen whatever you needed to see and you made your way home once more. As you were leaving, that menacing aura was in your presence, and you scanned the area for that gray eyed man again. There he was, out of the corner of your eye once more, stealing a look at you. You rolled your eyes and hurried back to your hotel.

Around 3am, you found yourself in the trees behind the Minerva Museum. You were dressed in all black, cliche for committing crimes but it of course has its merits. You sat in a tree in the gardens behind the Museum of Minerva, checking over your pockets and equipment. The plan would be excruciatingly simple: get in, get to the basement, and get out. Simple plan, yes. Simple because you alone knew what else should and shouldn’t be done in the moment, based on instinct and common sense alone. One should never overcomplicate, or over plan a plan, lest they drive themselves insane with too many plot points to follow. Of course, plans were so simple if one was working alone; having to create an in depth plan for upwards of 3 people was always a hassle, trying to figure out who goes where and who does what and what one does if they’re seen. It all really becomes too much. Most could look at you and say “ah, I bet you work alone because of a tragic, tragic backstory where you lost a member of your team!” which is quite incorrect. People are irritating, and you’re much too lazy to create a plan for more than 2 people, and lazier still to create a detailed plan, seeing as your plan right now has three whole steps just for yourself. The other point is that you were relatively smart, and you didn’t have other people constantly quipping about other ideas. One idea, full throttle. But you digress, checking to make sure the capsules for the blueprints opened and sealed properly. Patting your belt, you made sure the proper knife set was on your person: a set of tungsten knuckles (you could say brass, but tungsten is a beautiful name, and they were in fact made of tungsten) with blades between the thick metal, so they retracted like quite the handy switch blade. You never carried guns, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to buy a silencer, and if you were ever involved in a situation where you literally brought a knife to a gun fight, you could take care of said bullets easily. You also carried rope, twine, an air mask and a gas mask. Air and gas masks are not the same, contrary to some belief. The air mask was a mini air tank/capsule, perfect for diving or breaking into air sealed areas. They allowed you 15 minutes of air, enough time for you to get into the basement vault, take the blueprints, and hop right back out. Always one with simple, three step plans, eh. Feeling satisfied with your materials check, you hopped down from the tree, and made your way to a small vent in the wall close to the ground. Unscrewing the bolts that held it in place, you removed the metal grate and slipped into the vent, pulling the metal grate back over the hole, although not fastened. Inconvenient as it was, you were backwards in the vent, but that was fine. Scooting backwards for a minute or two, you reached a bend in the vent and scooted back some more so you could turn into the bend in the vent. Crawling down the vent, you knew where you were based on your previous venture of exploring the vents with your rollers. You crawled around in the vent for a little longer, you saw the end of the vent, and managed to cut your way through it this time with a cutter, seeing as you couldn't unscrew it this time. Crawling out, you stood up and studied your surroundings, remembering exactly where you are: you were in the corner in the staff only hallway, with all the staff only areas like the restoration rooms and paths to the basement. There was a bend to your right standing in the hallway, the path you were supposed to take in order to pass by. You’d also remembered the type of metal that the camera’s were, so putting your hands up at your sides, stretching them outwards and sideways, while also causing the iron cameras to tilt so you could pass unseen. Walking down your selected path, you lifted your hand once again to force the camera to turn again as you passed under it, still remaining unseen. You rummaged around for the keycard you’d stolen off an art courier in your previous venture and you approached the basement door. The basement door was kinda pathetic, seeing as it was a simple keycard based door, but no matter, you swiped the card and entered, taking care to turn the cameras as you passed under them as before. Walking down a set of stairs, you were now standing in a small hallway, full of shelves and books, and glass cases filled with artifacts. As wonderful as everything looked, you turned to your left and walked down a corridor, towards a separate room with a glass wall: the special archives of the museum. You didn’t have an access card for that room, but the vent on the outside of the wall to the left led to the inside of the room, so your best bet was the vent. The ‘exit’ of the vent, inside the room, was on the ceiling, hence your need for a rope. Making your way to the vent, you unscrewed the bolts holding it to the wall and crawled in. Now being at the bend in the vent that turned it upwards, you stood up stretched a little. Pressing your foot on the left side of the vent, you stretched your arms up to either side of the vent. Using your other vent, you held yourself a bit of a tricky suspension, and moved your legs up slowly, in an awkward climb. Reaching the top and crawling over the bend into the higher area, you cut the metal grate for the ceiling vent. Opening it wide enough for you to fit, you tied a rope to your waist. Shoving the anchor of the other end of the rope into the top of the vent, you tugged at it gently to check its security. Pulling out your air mask, you secured it to your face, and turned it on, and took a few breaths to make sure it was functional. You let yourself down into the glass room slowly, looking around. Reaching the floor, you untied yourself and shuffled around quickly, looking for blueprints. They were labeled, alphabetically, so you searched around till you found the M section. rummaging through the rolled up papers, you grabbed one and unraveled it. Not it. Rolling it back, you proceeded to pick up 5 more, unraveling each on and inspecting them. 10 minutes of air left, by your rough count. Picking up a dusty looking piece rolled up paper, you carefully unraveled and nearly screeched in excitement: this was it, the blueprints of the Minerva Museum. Rolling it back up, you tucked it under your arm, and continued looking. Why continue looking? You had what you needed, did you not? No, there had to be at least some hint as to the layout of the spherical room, the Athenaeum of Totality, somewhere in this vault. Crouching down, you pushed papers aside, seeing as there was a small wrapped up paper behind countless others. Pulling it out, you felt a little proud, seeing as you got exactly what you were looking for. A small scroll like paper, with greek lettering decorating the outside of the paper. Unraveling it, you scanned it for tell tale phrases of the Athenaeum. 5 minutes of oxygen left. At this point, you had no time to have a lovely read of your findings. Shoving the scrolls in the tube, you scrambled over to the rope and climbed back up, with a few minutes of air left. Detaching the rope, you made your way back through the vent, fixing up any metal damage you made with your nen.

You went back the way you came in, and in a matter of 20 minutes, you were outside and on your way home.

Upon reaching your room, you unraveled the blueprints, studying the layout of the Minerva Museum, conceptualizing the architecture in 3D and how you should approach your goal. The blueprints with the greek writing had indeed been architectural proof of the Athenaeum of Totality, although slightly damaged. You looked at the blueprints while remembering the small conversation between the mafia men from before. Being lost in thought, your mind wandered to that man you’d seen twice today; his eyes full of some sort of knowing, like the Mona Lisa’s famed aura was somehow in him too. Waving your hand dismissively as if to shoo him away from your thoughts, you grabbed your laptop and scanned the internet for the best prices for a ticket to Yorknew City. You. y/n l/n, had an auction to attend. The only issue would be finding a nice outfit to wear… that was always the hardest part of these sorts of things.

#anime #anime headcanons #anime fluff #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter headcanon #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter fluff #hxh #hxh headcanons #hxh x y/n #hxh imagines #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo headcanons #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo fluff #Heart of Hermes #Heart of Hermes HxH Fic

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hiswordsarekisses · 4 years

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An Anonymous Letter: “I want you to know for sure and never have any fear or question about Gods love for you. First thing that comes to mind is the woman at the well and the woman caught in adultery- in the very act. So so much jam packed in there, so many lessons- but what I want to point out is, it seems they knew the law and yet fell. Because we are human. Did they do it intentionally? I don’t know. But look at the woman at the well- it was looked down upon for Jews to even talk to Samaritan’s and a WOMAN at that!

Jesus said go, call your husband and come here. She said “I have no husband” what did he say? “You said well you have no husband, for you have had 5 husbands and the one whom you have now is not your husband- in that you spoke truly” 🤚 wait a minute right...why didn’t he condemn her right then? He actually proved to her that He has insight that He shouldn’t have if He was just an ordinary man and she saw that. He didn’t condemn her.

Now pause, let me say this. This is great -

Okay so, according to the law, if a woman commits adultery the man can not be restored to the woman. They are severed right? So like we know that Eve, Adam, Israel, and all of the rest of us have broke the law of Moses- that was the marriage vows. But they were broken, and therefore severed since Eve- spiritually speaking, we committed adultery on God with the devil. And God can’t go against His own word so we weren’t able to be restored to Him. But God made provision in that He sent Jesus Christ as the perfect lamb of God that would free us from those marriage vows so that we may be restored to Him. The only way, if the man divorces his wife for adultery, for the woman to be set free from being bound to that man is if the man dies, so that’s exactly what Jesus did for us.

All along the way, with Israel, the entire Old Testament is painted with promises that He would make provision but they were stumped and didn’t know how He would. Look at Passover - before He poured out the plagues on Egypt, He had them all take the blood of the unspotted lamb and paint it on their doors. That’s us!!! Accepting the blood of Christ so that He can seal us for Himself and save us from the wrath to come on the wicked.

So once this woman at the well realized this is HIM- she ran and spread the good news. He never ever condemned her. He knew what she needed. And it wasn’t condemnation that she needed.

Now look at the woman caught in adultery- he saved her life and told those Jews the truth. They knew they not only needed more than 2 or 3 witnesses but where was the man? According to the law they said they followed, they must have both the man and the woman. But they, of course, only had the woman.

So Jesus was like where are those accusers of yours?? And she’s like none are left and He said NEITHER DO I CONDEMN YOU, GO, SIN NO MORE.

These are POWERFUL words right here. We first need to know that we aren’t condemned, Bc quite frankly, those of us with a conscience lol, we can really really be so hard on ourselves when we mess up. Time and time again, every single day we fall. But Jesus is there like “I’m not condemning you, get up, try again- I’ll help you” His burden is light, His yoke is easy (if you haven’t ever looked up yoke, Google just that word and go to images, that’s you and Jesus, pulling this out together).

You KNOW He is who He says He is and that He can do what He says He can do. So therefore, you have faith. You have the testimony of Jesus Christ, you believe He came in the flesh, died on the cross and rose again. NOW this is where

the word of your own testimony comes up. (revelation says they overcame by the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony) (and no one can take that from you, no one can tell you that what happened in you isn’t from God Bc we’ve already tried to do it ourselves and could not. No one can take the word of your testimony from you). What God is doing in you is His great work. Everything good in us is from Him and that is why we have nothing to boast about, we know who we were and we know who we are now and we know that it is Gods work, not ours.

I can’t tell you how long it took me to realize I couldn’t do it on my own. Try and fail over and over again. I can’t even go into the things I have done, even as a Christian, even since the word of my testimony kicked in and Gods work truly became seeable....things that I absolutely want gone, yet fail consistently.

We just simply have to get back up and try again. And when we cling to our sin and don’t want to let it go but at the same time want to let it go- this is where His mighty strength comes in. This is where we just say God, I know your will, I know I am full of all these countless things and yet I can’t seem to fully break free. I need you to really do this for me, change my perspective on it, replace my will with your will, cause me to walk the way you walked- set your will before my face and cause me to walk in it. I’m weak, I’m only human, I’ve tried doing this thing and I can’t.

If I told you some of the things I have struggled with, you would be like 🤦🏼‍♀️.

You aren’t condemned. He is right there. There is a different thing in you, you acknowledge your stuff, you don’t want the stuff. If you were wicked and not saved, you would have no type of conscience, you would have been given over to a debase mind to do those things unfitting, believing the lie and therefore you wouldn’t even have the mindset that you do and you wouldnt care if you were saved or unsaved- you’d be too busy relishing in your sin.

I think we just simply lose sight of that balance. You know I was an abuser of grace my entire life (and then) I became legalistic and I actually remember thinking “I’m missing something, this is supposed to be easy and light but it is not! God I can’t do it good enough, I’m never going to make it. Look at all these things. What do I even start with.” I fought and fought and fought to just DO IT! And I hated myself.

And that’s where weed and any substances started being my best friend. Between that and my lack of healed issues - it was a case for disaster. That’s more than half the reason why I was on anti depressants. So then I was even more self condemned over all of that.

God used it all. It got me to a place of humbling where I realized I can’t get myself into heaven. I tried. And I was MISERABLE. And I cried out to God and told Him I can’t even meet You half way. I need you to come all the way to me and save me, I need you to do it through me” and I fully acknowledge that every change within me is for His glory and done by Him and not myself. That’s why I can’t judge anyone else’s struggles. We are supposed to call out sin, yes absolutely! Bc I might start sinning and not even realize it. Or maybe I didn’t know it was a sin and I need guidance or something. But there’s balance in even that and that area I struggle with where the balance is. But in my season of working my way to heaven, I realized I can do nothing good without God. So who am I, a sinner without capability of laying down my own wretchedness, to judge the law God is writing on someone else’s heart?

We are His work, His art work if you will. How can one art piece who has the clouds done first look at the other art piece and condemn him for not having clouds. It’s not within the art piece to create the clouds. It’s for the Great Artist to create the clouds. Did we create our own clouds? So we are judging the law and condemning the law and that doesn’t make us doers of the law, but a judge. But I haven’t reached the other side of that where you learn when to warn someone and when not to. I think it’s the whole like condemning someone and saying they won’t make it to heaven but I’m not sure.

What ever is hindering you, whatever makes you feel like you won’t make it to heaven, it’s not too much for God. He’s got you and He’s willing to do all of it. All we have to do is surrender, tell Him we can’t do it and don’t even have the desire to do it...but that we want to desire to do good and that we need Him to intervene on our behalf, even if it hurts, even if it’s uncomfortable.

(Anonymous)

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father’s hand. I and My Father are one.” John‬ ‭10:27-30‬

He is fighting for us!

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infearandfaith777 · 3 years

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lil thang i wrote

Long post ahead y’all but who knows maybe you’re getting a preview to what will someday be a successful blogging or writing career and you’ll be glad that you knew me before i blew up the internet with my offensive views 🤪 lol just kidding i know I’m not that important haha!!

Over the course of the next few days I’m going to be posting all the photos that im always forgetting to post bc im deactivating my Facebook for the foreseeable future, and i would like to have my mass amount of backed up photos on here. Social media is a huge time sucking vortex for me in this stage of my life. It always has been (I’ve been in big tech’s clutches since i was in the 6th grade, i consider us all to be little lab rats of the ongoing social media experiment) I’ve been making a real effort to work on it the last few years. I’ve made progress, I’m just not seeing the full fruit and i know that it’s because I’m 1) stubborn and sinful 2) i choose my wants over what I know is right. I guess those are the same thing 🤪 My oh my, it’s so easy to slip. My biggest step for this year was deleting my Instagram a few months ago. i lied to myself when i said that it wouldn’t be a big deal to have the Facebook app on my phone since I’m not a fan of the layout/platform anyways. but what I’ve found is that slowly but surely, the time that i would’ve spent on Instagram is now being spent on here 🤷‍♀️ oy vey.

I know myself well enough to know that my self control when it comes to social media is an absolute mess, it doesn’t matter how hard i try. I keep failing at meeting my goal for how to spend my time online and I’m over it. for some people their social media usage/consumption isn’t a big deal because they know their limits and they’re mature enough to handle it but I’m not and it’s okay to admit that. we’ve built an attractive idol in the shape of a little square box of light and quite frankly I’m sick of mine. I don’t want to miss any of the beautiful season of life that I’m in. Socials aren’t adding to anything for me right now, as much as I’d like for them to and try for them to. They’re taking from me. Who knows, they’re likely taking from some of you too but we don’t usually question it because our culture is so addicted and it seems unrealistic to think of real life without an online life on the side.

time is God given, and short, and i want to steward mine well. Now, I have to clarify that I’m not bashing social media or it’s users. It might not seem like it from everything I’ve said thus far but I love social media. Really, truly i do. & that’s the heart of the problem, is that sometimes i fear that i love it more than i love God. It’s hard for me to be in the word sometimes, yet i have no problem hopping online and seeing what’s poppin. That’s messed up. I love the brilliance of everything at our fingertips. I love what it can be. But I hate what it often and usually is. it’s designed to keep you scrolling & i of all people understand the incredible difficulty in finding balance. They feed on our sinful desire for constant and instant gratification. Despite the coding, the use of the tool itself is a neutral party. It’s up to us how we use it, whether that be good or bad lies in our hands. Literally, your phone lies in your hands.

So what do you choose to do with it?

If you could see God sitting beside you watching what you’re looking at (which He IS but you know what i mean, if He was literally visible to your eye staring at the screen) would you at any point be ashamed of what you’re doing on your phone? I know there’s times that i would be.

How much time do you spend on it?

Can you answer those questions honestly and be at peace with the answer? If you can, great! 🤠

But if you’re like most of us and maybe less than pleased with your time usage or what you’re doing/looking at online, then what are some real changes you can make?

Is there something else could you be dedicating your time to? Something you always say you “don’t have enough time” for even though you have plenty of time to be online??? 🤔

Do you think you could limit your consumption if you tried or is the urge to scroll too powerful?

We could all stand to ask ourselves these things from time to time..

Im cutting off what I know is a sin for me. It might not be for you and that’s awesome. Either way we should be talking more about how social media has affected our society.

Maybe with a long hiatus, and a lot of prayer, God will help me to learn how to use my social media the way that i know i should. wisely, with MUCH greater self control, and always for His glory. 🤍

Colossians 3:17, ESV: "And whatever you do, in word or deed, do EVERYTHING in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."

(emphasis added)

Proverbs 15:3

The eyes of the Lord are in every place,

Watching the evil and the good.

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. Do not turn to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil (Proverbs 4:23-27)

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

Matthew 6:22-23

“Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.”

Psalm 119:37

“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

1 Corinthians 9:27

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “This is War.”

This arc is going to be exciting, I hope you guys like it.

“Commander, the Burg have broken through the defense Nexus and are making siege on the Gromm homeworld. We have sent ships to supplement them, but we won't be able to last much longer. How soon can you arrive.?”

“Immediately chairwoman. Give me the change to mobilize the fleet, and we will come drop in to assist. Have some of your your cruisers sent in with shield generators. We would be more combat effective, if all our time was not spent in maneuvers.”

“It will be done commander.”

“One more thing, chairwoman.”

“Yes commander.”

“Get me a forward report of battle progress, I want numbers, estimates, power outputs, weapons, anything you can give me, I want to know about it.”

“You will have it, Commander.”

The hologram disappeared, and Commander Vir pointed to one of the communications specialists, “You, get the fleet online, immediately.”

“Yes sir.”

There was a moment of verbal silence as the room was filled with the distant clattering of feet thundering through the lower decks preparing for battle stations.

Four young soldiers sat in the corner of the room wide eyed and nervously watching the proceedings unfold as their insides churned.

What a day to be a new recruit.

Bright blue light erupted around the room, and fifteen figures stepped out of the ether in various stages of wakefulness and or dress.

“Commander.” One of the men Said salluting, he was older maybe in his early to mid fifties though he looked better than a lot of men twice his age

“Captain Eklend, Koslov, Ho, Silva, Bassi, you five are active?”

“Yes, Sir.” They chorused

“What this is about?”

“War, Captain, The Burg have perpetrated an act of war against the GA. You five are needed immediately with my ship on the front line. The rest of you, prepare yourselves for standby. I don't want to put all my eggs in one basket.”

“An act of war!”

“Yes ,they are attempting to invade the Gromm homeworld.”

“What reason could they have-”

“Their reasons don’t matter for now. For the moment we focus on providing support to the Gromm and the GA. Have your crews ready as soon as possible, and initiate an instant warp. I know it will be rough on the coolant systems, but if you back charge that energy into the rail guns and cannons, that we should be able to arrive prepared. I want jets ready to provide in-atmosphere air support if necessary and as instantly as possible. Am I understood.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alert me as soon as you are ready, and make it quick. My people will have the coordinates to yours immediately “

“Yes, Commander/” Fifteen salutes, and fifteen holograms gone dark.

Commander Vir turned to the bridge crew, “Prepare for an instant warp, like I was saying before, make sure you back charge the rail guns with the excess energy put off by the core. We don’t want to smoke ourselves out with the heat.”

Turning, he took a seat in his chair, and despite his clothing, a star-wars T-shirt and a pair of heelies, no one would have assumed he was anything other than the commander. A door clattered behind them, and the small blue Drev from earlier burst through the door and ran across the deck to her seat.

“Sunny-”

“Yes! Preparing to back charge the railguns, commander. Loading bunker busting rounds, and loading flairs.”

“Good.” He barked.

With one hand he reached over and toggled the Comm switch.

His voice once relegated to this room, now echoed down the halls with a commanding echo, “Crew of the harbinger, this is your Commander speaking. At this moment the Burg have declared war on the GA and are attempting to overtake the Gromm planet for its strategic location within the GA. All of you are to report to your battle stations immediately and prepare for war. All vehicles, flying or otherwise, should be ready for takeoff. I want marines prepared to to insert by drop ship at a moment’s notice. All non military personnel are to return to their quarters, or a safe room away from the outer hull of the ship. Please make sure to go over any and all escape pod procedures in case of an emergency…..”

There was a moment of solemn silence.

“I understand that this is our first military engagement, I understand that you may be frightened, angry or even shocked, but I make a promise to you now, that I will do whatever I can to keep all of you and every last member of earth, and the GA safe. If you follow me in this goal I guarantee, there is no army, no species, no force save deity who can stop us. My fellow humans, and my brothers and sisters Drev,... let us show them what it means to wage war.”

He shut off the comm jaw set face staring forward.

With one hand, he reached up and pulled off the eyepatch revealing an inhuman mechanical replacement underneath.

“Commander, Captain Kozlov is ready for warp.”

“As is Captain Bassi.”

“Captains Eklend, and Ho. Have reported in.”

“Captain Silva is ready, Commander.”

“Than we warp in five, four, three, two, one….”

***

The burg Commander stood at the head of her ship pincers clicking in great pleasure as she watched another one of the GA ships fall under her onslaught.

Their shields were powerful, but their weapons were measly.

Their scientists had known this for a while. The GA were soft creatures born of government and economics and not of chaos like her people . They would rather, sit back and defend themselves like a wounded Curdling licking its wounds tan to stand and fight, and now they had insulted her people one last tie.

Her previous successor, had failed in his mission, one that should have been easy considering their ability to exploit the GA’s soft and trusting laws, but he had lost his temper and given himself away before the end.

However, the time for stealth was long past, now it was a time for war. For the past few years, since their withdrawal from GA peace talks )she chittered her mandibles disgusted at the very thought they had once been willing to parlay with such disgusting creatures) they had traveled the galaxy in search of greater resources, stocking themselves for ward, creating alliances with other entities in the vastness of space.

The GA would fall for their insolence against the Burg,, and she would be the one to usher them into a greater future.

Who knows, perhaps she might even become queen.

The thought of sitting, fat and happy at the center of the hive made her insides wriggle with pleasure.

Another GA ship fell breaking into pieces and falling towards the glittering surface of the Gromm planet. The shards sparked and sizzled as they were deflected away from the planet’s defence nexus.

It didn’t matter though, it wouldn’t be here for long.

She planned for that.

And that is when her alarms began going off. She whirled in a circle towards the group of grumbs at her back. They pulsed and oozed in time with the engines of the ship controlling the interior mechanisms with their bodies, which had been fuzed into the mechanisms. When this ship died, they would die with it.

“What is happening.”

“Your glory, ships have appeared from warp, and they ae firing on us.”

“WHO.” She demanded, “I must see!” They gurgled and mumbled as they got to work scrambling to do their best and find a suitable answer for her. The ship drifted around so the viewing platform faced outwards.

Ans that is when she saw them.

Two strange ships on the horizon, and as she watched, three more followed in quick succession, flashing into existence against the black backdrop of the expanse.

She would know those ships anywhere.

Hard, brutal and malignant like their pilots, “Slimy Maggots!” She spat grinding her pincers together.

“What is it, your glory?”

The sound that came through her teeth was nothing more than a warbling hiss “Humans.”

The air around her pulsed with the wave of an incoming transmission. She accepted with an angry flick, her legs chittering back and forth across the ground. And then she saw it, that ugly hideous thing with its bulging bulbous eyes and sofy maggoty flesh, rubbery like a worm.

It blinked at her revealing that mouth full of toxic venom which had been such a hindrance to her people.

She knew this human well, if not from personal contact, than form the hostires.

For to forget a grudge was to forget one’s honor.

“Disgusting human, have you come to join your fellows as their dust is sprinkled by the solar wind.”

“Let's drop the niceties shall we.” The human responded it’s voice a horrible throbbing humm inside her head, “Now that we are here, You have two options you will surrender to the GA and live, or you will fight and you will die poorly. Which shall it be, this is your first and final warning.”

She chittered her mandibles together in laughter.

“You are mistaken human. For it is YOU who will die poorly, and there is no surrender.

“Is that a no than?”

She spat at the screen, “You will die screaming.”

“I said, is-that-a-no?”

“NO.”

“Very well.”

And then she …. She saw something, or she thought she saw something.

A flash of light, like a fire ignited behind the slimy outer layer of the human Iris. It was both cold and hot burning and cold, chaotic and still. The longer she stared the hotter the little fire grew, until it felt as if she could feel tongues of flame licking at her shell,

“Do you have gods, burg.”

She wasn’t entirely sure where this was going but the mesmerizing nature of the eyes caused her to grow still, unable to be silent against the burning question.

“Yes.”

“Do you pray.”

“Only over the pyres of our dead.”

The human bared his teeth slimy coating of venom sparkling under the light.

“Then Pray.”

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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thekidultlife · 4 years

Text

The Most Convenient Escape | Jihoon Soulmate!AU (6)

⍟ Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Fantasy/ Soulmate AU

⍟ Genre: ANGST, SLOW BURN, fluff

⍟ Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, and sex

⍟ Word Count: 6.7k

⍟ Synopsis: For all your life, you have a deep disdain towards Soulmate Bonds, so much so that you are able to write opinions about it in a local newspaper. However, as life would have it, you wake up one day bonded to a person you hardly knew. Throwing in an investigation, annoying roommates, and a revolution looming just beneath the surface, you had to seek for the most convenient escape.

⍟ A/N: It’s been a while since I updated TMCE skskks sorry;;; i missed my drawing tablet so much, I just drew this whole time lmaooo but here you go~ something like a transition chapter!! hope you enjoy? :DD

⍟ Taglist: To those who commented on the previous chapter ;;w;; thank you so much!!! @minkwans, @ialamityo-o, @oprandomfeels, @haotheheckk, and @svt13roses!!! I always say this, but your comments and reactions really keep me going on;;;

HALF A MILLION MURMURS by Alex Fireflower

The Porta Persa Edition, November 2nd

To those divinely ordained by the people and the coin with Power and Authority:

Surely, in some way or another, it had not escaped any person of good conscience and fair moral character the plight which has befallen our fellow men—the Cilvekans—despite differences in and not limited to nationality and/or race; more so and I surely hope so, that it had not escaped the attentions of persons with great abundance in wealth and power such as yourselves.

Surely, in some way or another, you are not deaf to their pleas—gagged and maimed by a bill, now law, which was carefully crafted to entrap more than half a million people for whatever reason the Parliament has in its defense. These people who had a hand in making our trades grow, making our lives a little bit easier, making this nation prosper to its opulent glory of today—how easy, how convenient it is to leave them to the dust, to fend off on their own all the evils of Porta Persa. Certainly, it had touched your benevolent hearts that the very same people who sweep your marble floors, who wash your dirty ball gowns, who polish your diamond rings, are in need of your help—the very same people who had helped you in your daily lives. Yet even if they had not become a part of your lives in some way or another, surely, maybe, that the fact that Cilvekans are fellow human beings who move and act just like us would convince you that what had been brought unto them was a violation of their rights as human beings, rights which are rightfully bestowed to everyone on this Earth—Cilvekan, Porta Persan or whatnot.

Surely, in some way or another, you have come to an understanding that the creators of this bill had intentions way beyond the national security of this nation. Surely, it is indisputable, with all the abuse of power and discriminate arrests which happened in the course of a few days, that there is no way Porta Persa would attain national security in this manner; but rather, had only caused chaos and anger among the population. How can one, who had held himself with high regard in the face of god and the heavens, be so blissfully ignorant to these people who had been abused and indiscriminately arrested in the middle of the night for various reasons the Royal Guard had come up with as they spin their wee little roulette of crimes and violations? How can we, as human beings, rationalize our inaction and ignorance of this issue with a mentality that “if this does not happen to us in front of our very eyes, therefore, it does not exist”? Of course there is no reason for it to happen on your graciously manicured courtyard because the gold coin had given you the privilege to grab the laws of this land by the neck and turn it to your favor.

Surely, surely, and I do hope so that beyond the loud voices in your head screaming at you that there is no need to help, that the problem is simply perceived by the victims, that this issue does not affect you in any way possible—I hope that you are able to hear the half million murmurs of Cilvekan voices stranded in our ports and stations, banished from their jobs and separated from their families. I hope that you are all able to hear whispers calling out to the warm compassion that is hopefully still inside of your hearts.

As more than half a million Cilvekans congest our ports and stations—sent back to an ironically unfamiliar country with almost no possessions; inside our jails and police stations, tortured to admit a sin they had never committed—let us not ignore their cries of help. Whether or not they had aided us in our lives before, they are still human beings just like us, who need the same rights as we do. Let’s listen to the murmurs of half a million…

◇

“Your girlfriend sure is livid.”

Yoon Jeonghan, in his platinum blond hair and rather sleepy eyes, said as he tossed the newspaper on the marble garden table. The Minister for the Culture and the Arts was finally present in the meeting, though still in Joshua Hong’s grey pavilion in the middle of his rose garden and still drinking freshly brewed coffee.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and I am very much assured that she is unaware of our soulmate bond,” Jihoon groaned as he massaged his temples, the hangover gradually diminishing with the help of a hangover potion you had forced him to bring along. “How many times do I have to reiterate this?”

“Someone sure is a rainy cloud today, what do you reckon, Minister of Foreign Affairs?” Jeonghan remarked as he received a cup of coffee from Joshua, who had only laughed at his friend’s comment.

“It’s your fault for not coming by lately. You missed out a lot.”

“Did I?” The other smirked, and then looked around, “Oh? It seems our adorable general isn’t here yet?”

“Seungcheol told me he wouldn’t be joining us today,” Joshua informed him primly as he finally sat on his own seat with a cup on his hands. “And for reasons you all already know, unfortunately.”

“What about you though? Aren’t you having a terribly marvelous time trying to deport all these people?” Jihoon asked, his eyes cold and a tad bit exhausted.

“That’s the immigration’s responsibility, not ours. Though drafting an explanation to the Cilvekan government as to why there are half a million people to be deported back to their country isn’t a walk in the park either.”

Jihoon grunted, to which Jeonghan only smiled.

“I’m having trouble with this as well. Several valuable artists living in Porta Persa are in danger of being deported which isn’t in any way favorable in my position. I wouldn’t want to lose Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao in the middle of their own respective careers,” Jeonghan added in a playful tone despite the severity of his situation.

“And just when I was finally able to acquire some tickets to Wen Junhui’s play!” Joshua remarked with a slight scowl, annoyed that his tickets would probably become mere pieces of worthless colored paper.

“Tough luck for all of us, huh?” Jihoon remarked as he pressed down the bridge of his nose, the smell of the decaying rose petals around him was making him nauseous.

As the wind blew across the wide rose garden, a companionable silence enveloped the three of them. While they seemed to be so lighthearted, they all knew the situation was a lot worse than they had feared.

“Is there any way we could reverse this decision?” Jeonghan finally asked.

“If there was, I would’ve done it already. Not to mention how much political power I’ve lost because of this,” Jihoon replied, thumbing on the cork of the potion he was holding. "If not for the laws of this land, I would've wrung Kang's neck by now."

“Seems like your plans on running for Prime Minister is thrown out of the window,” Jeonghan continued to which Jihoon only gave him a cynical look.

“I would continue if I was crazy enough,” he answered with a snort. “Look, there’s really not much I could do as of the moment. The Conservatives are probably holding the biggest victory party of their lives at the seaports, herding off Cilvekans inside cargo ships like cattle, and it’s so frustrating how I could only watch them do what they want.”

“What about going to your grandfather then?” Joshua suggested and Jihoon stilled for a moment before aggressively shaking his head.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not,” he replied with a hint of panic in his eyes. “Not in a million years.”

“Why not?” Jeonghan asked. “He’s still a powerful man after retiring as Prime Minister years ago. Who knows, maybe he has some useful connections.”

“You guys already know why not,” Jihoon responded with a snarl. “There is certainly no way I would return to Santaragossa considering the state of my soulmate bond.”

“Ah, that,” the two men eventually nodded in understanding as they remembered why Jihoon was hesitant to go.

“But maybe this is the right time to tell Y/N that your soulmates,” Joshua was the first one who remarked. “You could bring her along and tell her the truth.”

To that comment, Jihoon only gave an incredulous look. “Please don’t give me any more of these suicidal suggestions, Joshua. You already know that’s not going to work.”

“But you could at least try?” Jeonghan offered. “I mean, Porta Persa is only an inch short of imploding, and we could be headless in a month's time if this escalates rapidly, so what does a lover's quarrel mean in the face of a civil war?”

As soon as he had heard Jeonghan’s words, the dark haired male simply sighed and leaned against the chair he was sitting on. He just can’t believe he was considering this. Returning to Santaragossa could be another mess he wished he had never signed up for, much like the current situation with the Cilvekans. But he knew that if he really wanted to act on the benefit of the greater good, a worthy sacrifice is already a given. What even is a falling out with his soulmate to a half a million people who are more or less starving and afraid?

Jihoon sighed again. Things are spiraling out of control.

“I’ll think about it.”

◇

A few weeks later. November 25th

“Oh god, I almost strangled the bastard if you guys weren’t there!”

It was already late in the morning when the three of you entered Wonwoo’s dorm room in a weirdly tense mood; a mood that was emphasized by the fact that the political atmosphere in Porta Persa was rigidly discordant all throughout the past few weeks. As active journalists, it had of course affected you three.

“I might have bitten his head off twice too,” you were fuming as much as Soonyoung was, tossing your heavy leather bag on the bed which you sat on as well with an exhausted huff.

The only calming force in the room was Jeon Wonwoo, who simply sighed and dropped most of his things on a wooden desk carpeted with heavy tomes of Magical Law. Yet despite is fair countenance, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t exasperated by everything that was happening.

Today, the three of you were scheduled to interview a staunch advocate of the recently passed travel restrictions and border control measures, and to say the least, it did go well, yet at the expense of everyone’s tempers.

“Just—how can someone be so ignorant of this situation?!” you exclaimed as you let yourself fall on the bed, your arms held high in the air. “I-I mean, the ports where Cilvekans had been crowding for days now is just a five-minute walk from his stupidly large mansion! Can’t they see anything?!”

“Not only that! Not only that, goddamn it!” Soonyoung added, furiously pacing around the room. “He even has the gall to question why Y/N was there! Y/N! One of Porta Persa’s best editors! What kind of question is that? Are girls not allowed to do anything anymore? I just wanted to punch that guy’s beer belly!”

“That was really insulting,” you remarked, your voice much quieter now.

Soonyoung groaned-screamed, pushing Wonwoo’s wooden chair before stalking towards the wall and punching it hard. The wall was of course rock solid but Soonyoung’s knuckles were now red and in pain, yet it didn’t really matter. If he hasn’t done anything, chances are he might explode in his place then and there.

Wonwoo only watched, leaning against his desk, as the two of you blew off steam by ranting and just being generally loud, yet in his mind, wheels were turning.

“You know what else is concerning?” Wonwoo spoke, his voice as soft as a mutter yet it was enough to get the attention of everyone. “It’s not only the wealthy who are fine with this as what we might’ve expected, but also some of the upper and lower middle class people.”

You and Soonyoung immediately exchange glances, their eyes glinting with curiosity. So Wonwoo continued on.

“I’ve checked all the interviews we conducted since last week and though they differ in motives, they generally have no problem with this law. The rich are basically ignorant and indifferent. To them, this law is just like all the other laws of Porta Persa. For the middle class citizens however, they saw Cilvekans as an adversary—someone who would steal their jobs and opportunities.”

“Like, ‘why are these people getting rich while I, a true blooded Porta Persan is struggling to get a job?’” you asked, to which Wonwoo nodded.

“So a ‘good riddance’ thing, huh?” Soonyoung bobbed his head up and down in realization, his anger already half abated.

“Precisely. This is why this whole situation is largely divisive. There are people who care about it, but there are also a lot of people who are more than happy that this happened,” the bespectacled boy replied, adjusting his glasses.

“Ain’t that depressing,” Soonyoung grumbled, finally plopping on the plush armchair by the fireplace. “Has anybody started a petition yet?”

“Lee Jihoon already beat you to the chase,” you commented casually. “He’s been busy gathering signatures from prominent people to junk the law, but so far I think he hasn’t really filled his quota yet, right Wonwoo?”

“Yes, I reckon he needs even more powerful people, like someone closely connected to the monarchy or someone with a really huge reputation,” Wonwoo replied, folding his arms over his chest.

“Who else is even more powerful than Lee Jihoon? Even he can’t stop that bill from becoming law,” Soonyoung inserted, now much more cynical because of all the frustration that had built up.

You only shrugged. “We don’t know. At any case, we must continue this responsibility we imposed upon ourselves. Let justice be done though the heavens fall.”

“Indeed,” Wonwoo replied before straightening himself up. “In that case, I suppose it’s time we inspect those documents we found a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about them!” Soonyoung remarked, turning as he watched Wonwoo walk pass him and to a hidden safe behind the bookcase where he kept it secure. “We were so preoccupied with all the interviews that we didn’t have time to look at them.”

“I do hope we get something out of those,” you said, standing up from your place on the bed and walked to the round wooden table where Wonwoo had placed the documents.

Gathering round and seated comfortably, the three of you began to carefully examine the documents like an efficient production line.

Wonwoo was assigned to the actual semantics of the documents, inspecting everything word per word and whether or not they mean something else other than what was thought at first glance. Soonyoung on the other hand was in charge of looking into those which contained shipping and trading information—he may not be the brightest of you three but he has trading experience all throughout his life which was more than what you and Wonwoo could do. Finally, you had the task of doing the final inspection, to see if the Soonyoung and Wonwoo had missed anything.

Yet despite all these efforts, even after five hours of perusing the said documents, in the end they all turned out to be rather boring pieces of yellowed paper.

“And here I thought we were going to find something phenomenal…”

Soonyoung was pouting, now more than exhausted as he slumped sulkily on his chair. You and Wonwoo were no different, as you sat silently on your places around the table with long faces.

“I guess we effectively wasted most of our afternoon,” you remarked, standing up to stretch your stiff muscles.

“I couldn’t agree enough,” Wonwoo snorted, “That novelty shop was phony from the beginning.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Soonyoung exclaimed, also standing up to walk around the room. “And oh, speaking of that shop, the fortune teller asked us to give something to you, Y/N. Wait here for a moment while I run to my room!”

Without waiting for you to reply, Soonyoung already dashed out of the door and to the hallway, leaving both you and Wonwoo to exchange curious glances.

“You know something about that?” You asked him.

Your friend shrugged, “You left so suddenly that day and then everything was so hectic right after that we forgot to tell you about it.”

Understanding the situation, you simply sighed and waited for Soonyoung to return, which wasn’t that long since he was already back before you could even form any thoughts on what Madam Adora had left for you.

“I’m back!” he exclaimed, on his hands a small black box that seemed to resemble a box for a ring. “Here you go, Y/N!”

With that said, Soonyoung placed it on top of the table which you walked towards to see what it was inside. You turned it over and heard a small dull thud, giving the impression that there was a small object inside.

“Did you peek?” You asked him, seating back on your chair and taking a closer inspection at the object.

“What? Of course not!” He denied, which you deemed was true, considering that the seal on the opening was still intact. You smirked at him, revealing the fact that you were only kidding around.

“Well, let’s see what this is.”

Breaking the seal, you opened the box while the two onlookers peered curiously behind you. The climactic tension in the air rose dramatically as the three of you became increasingly intrigued by the contents of the box.

“It’s…” Soonyoung narrated, his eyes glistening at first but then faltered after realizing what it was, “It’s just a coin.”

Inside the box, nestled on maroon red velvet was a mere gold coin—one which Porta Persa uses as currency—the Dossimer.

You held it up between your fingers, studying it as closely as you could with eyes filled with bewilderment. Eventually, you made a nod.

“Yes, it’s just dossimer.”

Wonwoo sighed. “This day seems to be filled with anticlimaxes.”

“I guess that’s life for you,” you replied, shrugging. “Though I’m not that sure why she would give this to me. It’s not like I lack money or anything.”

“I’m as bewildered as you,” Wonwoo remarked, again adjusting his slipping glasses.

Huffing, you placed the coin on the table harshly, cluttering loudly across Wonwoo’s room. “Fate sure is playing tricks with us, and I’m not liking it.”

“Yet what else can we do?” Soonyoung asked. “We’re at a stalemate now. The investigation is going nowhere, the Cilvekan situation is worsening, and we might be persecuted by the monarchy at any time.”

Wonwoo simply sighed. “Indeed, nothing seems to be moving right now, but we still have to do something, no matter how little they are. It will have a rippling effect all over Porta Persa.”

While the two were bickering, you had unintentionally blocked them out, focusing only on the gold coin on the table, atop the documents you had inspected, wondering over and over again why it was on your hands.

“Are you suggesting we run away then? Run to the mountains of god knows where—“

Wonwoo had raised his voice already, further proof that the argument was getting heated, yet despite that, you paid no heed. Instead, you continued to stare at the coin, still tossing and turning ideas in your head.

The more you gazed at it, the more you felt like you were beginning to imagine things. The coin was glowing with a golden light around it, and while magic isn’t something odd, the fact that the coin was shimmering was definitely out of the ordinary.

Blinking several times, you tried to shook the hallucinations away yet the glowing continued and had now spread over the papers underneath it. You were sure you hadn’t drunk anything weird that day, or maybe it was the fatigue—but fatigue doesn’t really make things glow in front of your very eyes.

Funnily enough, it took you a moment to realize that none of what you had thought of was the truth, and strangely enough, the coin was actually and most definitely glowing.

“Um…guys…” you muttered, pulling on their sleeves as they were already about to pounce on each other. “I’m not imagining that the coin is glowing, right?”

Your words immediately stopped the two of them from their tracks and immediately turn their attentions to the coin on the table. Astonished as you were, they only gazed at it in confusion.

“It’s really…glowing,” Soonyoung remarked, his hands about to touch it.

“Wait—! Don’t go near, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo warned as he fetched a fountain pen on his desk to poke the coin with.

“Isn’t that as dangerous as well?” you asked him, wanting him to reconsider his course of action.

“It’s fine, I’m not directly touching it.”

With a sigh of forfeit, you only watched as Wonwoo moved the coin with nothing much of a reaction other than the bright white glowing.

“It seems to be making the papers glow as well,” he observed, moving his body around it to see all sides.

“Not all the papers. Just that one,” you corrected him since you were seated next to it on the table and had a better viewpoint. “Could you guys get that?”

Without anyone prompting him, Soonyoung snatched the paper from the table and looked at it with a rather confused look on his face.

“What is it?” you asked, turning to him with an expectant look.

“Not to add on our several disappointments today but these are just some shipping routes. I checked this earlier, you checked it again after, and we found nothing. And oh, it stopped glowing.”

“Wait! Why don’t we place the coin over it and see if it glows again?” Wonwoo this time suggested, pocketing his fountain pen, and then continued speaking after seeing the look of hesitance on your expressions. “And the coin is clearly safe, other than the fact that it’s, you know…glowing.”

“You pick it up then,” you instructed as Sonyoung returned the map of the shipping routes on table and laid it there flat.

“Fine,” he conceded sulkily and took the coin from where it sat and placed it over the parchment.

Amazingly, the paper did start glowing again, making the map invisible and then forming scribbles of white glow on the paper. The three of you crowded in front of it, trying to assess what you had discovered.

Soonyoung sighed. “I still don’t know what it is.”

“I’m as clueless too,” you added before stepping away.

“That’s a geass.”

The both of you turned to Wonwoo who was still scrutinizing it with meticulousness.

“I hope you’d care to explain?” you asked, walking to the place beside him.

Wonwoo closed his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“It’s actually pretty rare. But basically, a geass is an agreement. However, it’s a thousand times more powerful than your ordinary paper and ink contract. It binds parties through magic which makes it unbreakable. If anyone attempts to do so, they will be met by a horrific death.”

“That’s nasty,” Soonyoung remarked with a scrunch on the nose.

“Indeed it is. Which is why nobody really attempts to seal agreements using geasses anymore because it binds for life. You only reserve it for incredibly important things. You could consider the soulmate bond as a form of geass made between two people.”

“Two unconsenting people, you mean?” You added, making a terse glanced at Wonwoo.

“Yes, right. So in this case,” Wonwoo continued, picking up the paper but making sure the coin is still in contact with it. “What we have here is a geass made between the Gestalts and…one Gustav Lemaire.”

“Hey, isn’t that the same judge?” Soonyoung called out, his brows knitting with intrigue. “You know, the one who dismissed the tax evasion case of Luce Trading? His name really fits the corrupt judge image so it stuck with me.”

“That’s novel,” you remarked with playful snide. “But anyway, if it’s between the Gestalts and the judge, then is this some kind of settlement?”

“It kind of is,” Wonwoo replied, as he read the script with narrowed eyes. “It says here…”

“It says what?” you asked, impatient.

“Give me a moment. It’s written in archaic script and I haven’t really mastered it yet,” Wonwoo said, still hunched over the document. “So, it says here that in exchange for the dismissal of the case as well as increased support for Luce Trading, the Gestalts agreed to…to illegally smuggle in Cilvekans into Porta Persa…”

Wonwoo turned his gaze back at you and Soonyoung as if he had realized something. His eyes were blank and his lips ajar as he uttered the same last words he had said like a whispered chant—clearly, it was a huge epiphany.

“I think we might’ve ran into something much bigger than we had expected.”

◇

Dusk was already settling on the horizon when you were able to return to your gaudy dorm room; painting the marble white walls in a gradient of pink skies and sunset orange. You hesitated before turning the doorknob which usually led to the common room—wondering if Lee Jihoon went back earlier than usual, and what you were going to do about it considering what had happened a few weeks ago.

There was really nothing left to say.

You shook those thoughts away and just braced yourself for the unforeseen. It made no sense to overthink situations which happened weeks ago. Lee Jihoon’s presence in the dorm was pretty much lacking ever since the whole Cilvekan issue had blown up. He might’ve forgotten it already and it made you look ridiculous being so hung up over it.

Unsurprisingly, the common room was empty and you only sighed at your dramatics. You thought something had changed between you and Jihoon that night, but it seemed like it was only your imagination. The dorm was as empty as when you had first arrived a few months ago.

With an innocuous shrug, you stepped away from the doorway and went for the dinner table. The suppressant you had drank from last night was wearing off and you needed another dose before that invasive voice in your head starts speaking again. You were glad that your body had finally developed a tolerance to the painful side effects of the suppressants, or else, people would’ve easily noticed how much pain you were trying to conceal.

Opening your pack of alchemical compounds and ingredients, you took a transparent olive green bottle and swirled it around to agitate the particles that had settled to the bottom. Removing the cork, you took a whiff of the godawful scent and simply prepared yourself for the equally rancid taste. Before you could though, you…hesitated.

Hm?

You looked down on the bottle you were holding, the solution inside swirling as much as your mind was. Why were you hesitating? What was stopping you from taking another dose from the same suppressant you had been drinking for the past month? It was strange. Truly strange that you were making a decision over such a simple task that you had done over and over again for the past few months.

Didn’t you want to block that voice? Didn’t you want to prevent yourself from hurting that’s why you’re doing this? Then why are you hesitating? What’s stopping you from drinking?

“I feel heavy…”

You muttered softly as if any more weight in your voice could make it more unbearable. It was indeed strange—every time you decided to drink it, the heavier your heart becomes as if some parts of it were slowly turning into ice. You felt guilty for something; felt sorry for something you had no idea of. Could it be that you were actually feeling remorseful for the things you’ve done to your soulmate?

Gazing at the bottle one more time, you only felt more sick and grossed out; your stomach belching. It was like the dark liquid inside was a direct representation of all the hate and cold heartedness brewing inside your heart, and you didn’t like how it looked. It felt like some kind of cruel karma finally hitting you back.

Please don’t leave me…

A voice echoed in your head. You instantly panicked, afraid that it was really your soulmate, but it wasn’t. It was Jihoon’s voice. Jihoon wasn’t your soulmate.

Please don’t reject me. I’m sorry…

You didn’t know how to describe the pressure, the pain wringing your heart. It was excruciating. You felt sick. The look on Jihoon’s face that night was all your mind’s eye could see; the way he pleaded for you to stay by his side; the way he held you tightly between his arms as if you were going to slip away at any second. It was like you had caused him direct pain even if you didn’t know how or why.

“Jihoon…”

Your eyes wandered to the bottle in your hands again, but this time you stuck the cork back in, sealing it away for now. Whether or not you’ll stop taking them was a decision you weren’t ready to make. For now, it was best not to tempt karma.

Before you could utter another word however, you heard the main door open and you hurriedly cleaned up your mess on the table. You placed the green bottle in its usual place, glancing at it with thoughts in your head, before dismissing them altogether.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you’d be here,” a familiar voice echoed across the room, making you turn in an instant.

Jihoon was still clad in his formal attire—an all-black suit that made him look like he was going to a funeral. He had been busy running around gathering support for the petition he was championing and it had truly been an exhausting day. He had just finished hanging his coat over the sofa when you averted your attention to him.

“I—well, this is also my dorm so…” you awkwardly replied, your hands gesturing wildly.

“Ah, right, right. Sorry,” Jihoon replied, now a bit embarrassed of his rather obvious observation before he decided to walk away from you.

Considering his usual attitude, you assumed that he would immediately march his way towards his room and lock himself away from the outside world. However, the fact that he was still in the common room, pacing back and forth like some anxious teenager, debating internally if he wanted this or that remain, hinting that he was not done yet.

“Jihoon…?” You asked, slightly worried about him.

“I—“ he began, then wavered, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. It was embarrassing, but he just couldn’t find the courage to say what he wanted to say. Not after the fact that he had cried in front of you that night.

“Are…are you ok?” Your brows were furrowed, now wondering what was the matter with him. “I can make some basic potions—“

“No! No, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Jihoon interrupted and then pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “It’s just, well…you remember a few weeks ago when I got drunk? I realized I haven’t thanked you yet and I just wanted to make it up to you and well…”

Upon hearing his words, you immediately raised your brows in surprise. This was definitely not what you had expected.

“No, it’s ok! You don’t have to thank me!” you replied, now a tad bit embarrassed as well, as you gave him a small smile.

“But I want to,” he said with the usual firmness in his voice, glad that it was back. “And despite being roommates, we never had the chance to get to know each other better.”

“Oh,” was the only thing you could say at that time. He had a point though—you both were partners back in that stupid ball, plus he had seen your breakdown before and you had already seen him crying. You both should just call it quits and end the not-so ‘indifferent’ relationship you had between the two of you.

“Maybe we could have dinner together…?” Jihoon asked tentatively as he checked his pocket watch. “I know a place you might like.”

“Out-outside?” You asked, wholly astonished by how fast things had turned out. “I-uh…”

Honestly, there was no harm in having dinner with your roommate. You already live virtually together, so what’s a small dinner to the both of you anyway? And for some deeper reason, you wanted to indulge him. Maybe because you felt sorry for him that night, maybe you had grown fond of him over time, you don’t know. You weren’t sure. Maybe something did change that night.

“Only if you want to, of course. We can eat here as well—“

“It’s fine, Jihoon,” you interrupted, fiddling with your fingers because you couldn’t bear to look at him, especially with how fast your heart was racing. “Let’s have dinner together.”

◇

It was a rather lovely night outside.

The skies were dark and the moon and stars were twinkling brightly underneath you. Yet what caught your attention the most was where Jihoon had taken you for dinner.

Lanterns of various colors lit up above you, hanging on string and bathing the whole area in a warm and vibrant glow. There was live music as bands strum their mandolins and played their fiddles, creating an ambiance of celebration and vivid colors.

A lot of people had gathered in the area, raucous laughter and loud chatting could be heard from everywhere. All of these placed next to a cliff side which had the best view of Porta Persa at night; the lights from houses and street lamps shimmering against the dark backdrop of the port city like distant stars high above the night sky. It was truly a sight to behold, especially when things had gotten tense and gloomy lately.

“It’s a night market,” Jihoon explained, still clad in his all black attire though he had removed his tie and unbuttoned the first two on his shirt. “Since the ports are where most tourists enter Porta Persa, we coordinated with all the local governments in the country and established a night market to boast the different cuisines found in Porta Persa.”

Your eyes were still filled by the sights while Jihoon began talking, yet despite that, you were listening to him intently, and his explanation just made you explode with amazement.

“Oh wow! Really? That’s actually quite ingenious!” You exclaimed with a bright smile, turning to him as you both walked around to check the stalls. “We should definitely feature this in the Edition! Look at what most people are missing out!”

Jihoon made a small smile at your comment, watching as you checked every single food stall for something you haven’t seen yet. He liked it when you were just having fun, unbothered by the problems of the world—just genuinely at the moment, smiling and laughing in front of him. If you could stay like that, he felt like he was at peace.

“Look Jihoon!” you called out to him excitedly, on your hands was a grilled fish on a stick. “This is a delicacy from the Oihe region! They would soak the fish for a month in Rejhu juice, which is a fruit only found there that has impressive preservation properties, and then grill it! It could go on for several months which is perfect for the region’s harsh cold climate. That’s what the lady told me though.”

“I haven’t tried that yet,” he remarked, and then smirked, “Maybe I’ll take some from your share.”

“Eh…but this is mine,” you pursed your lips and turned your head. “You go buy your own.”

Acting like a petulant child, Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics, much to your chagrin. With an irate expression, you looked at him, who was covering half of his face with his hand as he laughed—you didn’t really appreciate being laughed at.

“What’s the matter?” you asked with your eyebrows knitting, your hands on your waist.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” he replied, still in his laughing fit which eventually subsided into a smirk in a few moments. “I just—I never expected you to act like this at all.”

“Act?” you leaned your head to the side in bewilderment. “But I’m always like this.”

“I always thought you were the serious type, you know,” Jihoon explained, his lips curving; his eyes glistening against the vivid golden lights up above you. “I just never anticipated you could be so adorably childish as well.”

“Adorably childish?!” you repeated, now a bit flustered that you had been acting that way the whole time. “That—that was never my intention!”

Jihoon only smiled at you and patted your head gently. “It’s okay. I like it.”

You couldn’t muster a reply to that comment because of how heated your face had become. No one really complimented you like that, and above all, it was Lee Jihoon who did it—the same person you were rather indifferent four months ago.

“Come on, let’s go have some dinner,” he simply said without further ado. Taking in your silence, Jihoon decided to move on and walk around the market, leaving you in your thoughts.

In the end, both you found yourselves sitting on a table with a clear view of the Porta Persa skyline, giving the situation a rather romantic ambiance which you never really had planned on. Before you, warm food of various origins were placed neatly on the table, waiting to be eaten and fill your hungry stomachs.

“You have…. rather interesting choices,” you remarked upon seeing Jihoon’s meal of choice while you carefully dissected your fish from before.

“Hm?” Jihoon looked up to you with a questioning look, a fork and a knife on his hands. “Oh, these are from Santaragossa. They might be a bit spicy, but I do miss them from time to time.”

“Ah, you were from Santaragossa? I always thought you were born and raised in the capital,” you replied, taking a sip from a citrus fruit blend you found rather interesting.

“Why so?” he asked, downing a piece of braised meat. “I assumed I gave an impression of someone from the provinces.”

“Not at all,” you gave him an austere look. “You seem like you run the place.”

“Do I now?” Jihoon asked, his lips again curving into a tiny smirk. “I never realized you thought of me that way. I appreciate your sentiments though.”

“But what is it like?” you suddenly asked. “I mean, living in Santaragossa?”

Jihoon leaned his head to the side, wondering why you were asking him this so suddenly.

“That place was my childhood. The summers were cool and the winters were not too cold. Most of the land are large vineyards and olive groves so I would run around a lot and play with the animals and so on. There is also a large lake near the house which is a great place to swim in during summer months. I do have private tutors, so please don’t get the wrong idea that I wasn’t in school.”

As you watched him talk about his hometown, you noticed how Jihoon had brightened up, rekindling fond memories from his childhood. He seemed to be at peace and less troubled than he was a few hours before, and it gave you a sense of serenity as well, gazing at him like what you were doing at that moment.

“Just by looking at you, I could already tell that it’s such a great place,” you remarked, grinning. “I’ve never really left the capital before, that’s why I always wanted to go to one of the provinces. Since you definitely sold me the idea, I might want to go to Santaragossa someday, given the opportunity.”

A thought struck Jihoon in an instant.

“Hypothetically speaking, if I’d invite you to come with me to Santaragossa next week, would you go?”

At that very moment, in the middle of a night market, you were stunned to silence.

#seventeen #caratwritersclub #svtcreations #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfics #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #the most convenient escape #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

Planet of the Dead Return to the Stars as ‘Pilgrims’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Jonathan Guzi

Every other day there's a story that calls our eyes heavenward to wonder about new planets discovered in nearby solar systems, terraforming Mars, or exploring the smallest elements in the universe. Anywhere has to be better than here, any time better than here right now. At least that's what a lot of people are feeling. How about the power of music to elevate us into vast dimensions of the imagination. One band out of New Zealand is interested in finding out what limits one can breach when the driving power of doom rock is hotwired with adventurous sci-fi/fantasy storytelling.

I speak, of course, of Wellington quartet PLANET OF THE DEAD Last year, Mark Mundell (vox), Malcolm McKenzie (guitar), Kees Hengst (bass), and Josh Hussey (drums) brought us the impressive first introduction to their soundscape and narrative concept, which elicited no small amount of praise for 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), including the enthusiastic Bandcamper who gushed, "Some of the best jams I've heard in this universe!" Listen to fan favorites "The Eternal Void" or "Mind Killer" and you'll discover why there's excitement around this band's future.

But Planet of the Dead wasn't done yet. As many of us have already experienced, unexpected and elongated times of forced aloneness do crazy things to the creative mind. For one, it frustrates, as you cannot express the present songs you feel so strongly about to live crowds filled with spontaneous drifters. The moods usually shift out of sheer exasperated boredom, leading to the insatiable urge to begin tinkering again. 'Pilgrim' (2021) comes at us like an explosion with stories to tell and songs to wail. It's purpose-driven interdimensional doom we're talking about here. This may have been the impetus behind the second album’s creation, so closely after the birth of their first (incidentally, both records feature exactly eight songs a piece).

"Gom Jabbar" is the first creature we chance upon in this otherworldly dimension. He speaks with synth-enhanced vocals (ever so slightly) that's practically like an alien encounter if you listen to it high (gosh, sorry. I've gotta stop leaking album reviewer secrets like that). A defiant second voice joins the dialogue, sounding for all the world like Goliath, Hercules, or Hulkian figure.

"Pilgrim" stirs up grey and purple auras as this groovy sandcrawler glides across dunes and high above deserts, searching for the most fitting place to (re)build the world they once knew, perhaps even dare to dream beyond it. I'm assuming they're a scientific voyage on the run from a restrictive government in a week's long mini series I should have pitched to NBC 20 years ago for big bucks. The song allows your imagination drift on its own recognisance, before the closing words call us back to the shadows.

A dire feeling blankets the air throughout "Nostromo," a stomping little number that's straight-up doom rock, with a cool streetwalking kind of stride. It's impossible to not to think of previous adventures aboard vessels christened Nostromo, but each are mysterious encounters with the unknown, some of which yield new insights into our humanity by taking us back through some strange luck of heavy metal time travel to experience pivotal moments in astral history.

"The Sprawl" may be one of the most dismal legs of this journey, but in an exotic acid-soaked kind of way that makes you question your reality (and your own sanity) before the trip is done. The song is good about building various layers of joy and tension, then meshing them together for some distorted, fuzzy, electric, sparkin' Frankensteinian experience. Where will the spiral take us next? Confident lead gets a riff-enhanced jolt, staging march-like-groove that eventually turns meditative, psychedelic, and ethereal. And that's just the first side of the record! Go ahead, flip it over. You can't stop this far-invested in the trip. Shhh. Listen. Grungy, rumbling energy, extraterrestrial harmonics, and gnarly acid-touched solos are just ahead.

"Escape from Smith's Grove" jars the senses with the unexpected tonal shift from clarinets into a seismic pattern of eruptions that match our stomping feet. This is, after all, a jailbreak of sorts.

"Directive IV" takes the perspective of an enforcement officer who is just doing his job. Mark Mundell's vocal stylings are on-point. For me they compare to the pipes of the late-great Wayne Static, the spastic, growling frontman of Static X. Others may see more similarity with the "common man" grit of Scott Angelacos from Hollow Leg and Junior Bruce. Or even Kirk Windstein's apocalyptic spitfire with Crowbar.

The song appears to be a struggle of conscience between compassion and machine-like order, a tug-of-war that after several epic call and response segments in which our protagonist is put on trial by his peers. The tight grip of fascistic space goons gradually loosens their grip in the song's final minutes, as a street-worn riff storm carries our rebels far away from the grasp of whatever the fucks. That means our (now treasonous) soldier has a second chance at life in the (are you ready for this?) the unknown wilds of...

..."The Cursed Earth." This is a perfect song for that moment in a show when the alcohol or "legal tobacco" has sufficiently unlocked your third eye with stellar riffs and choruses (this song has several "ah-ha" moments). The vocals are obscured here and are sometimes backed up by other singers to emphasize a specific point in the lyrical narrative. The final moments again are slowed down with impactful tonal moments that make you think you're on the edge spying some strange meeting of warrior souls.

Things are not what they seem They never are

"The Great Wave" pulls you right into its hypnotic sway, interjected with extraterrestrial strains of thought communicated as if by a very blasted HAL 9000, our onboard computer. It's downright creepy when it hits you. Then again, maybe that's what we want from an intrepid album such as Pilgrim, to rope us into a fascinating narrative and invite us to return to sort out the details, several spins down the road. Now that I think of it, maybe these songs are all references pinned to great Alien, Robocop, and Judge Dredd moments? Listen closely to "Nostromo" and "Directive IV" and wonder. A good album should do that to a person, draw you into its storytelling and musical colour. It has me listening to it immediately from beginning to end, then end to beginning. If you wanna give it a shot, Planet of the Dead's monsterpiece will definitely reward your back-to-back listens.

Look for Pilgrims to come to life on July 23rd, with a fantastic spread of options on vinyl and CD (pre-order here). In the meanwhile, Planet of the Dead are letting us join the party leading up to the big drop right here at Doomed & Stoned HQ, where you can hear each track in full. Don't miss crucial insight from the band itself in 'Some Buzz' to follow. Then join in sharing your thoughts and theories (stoned or otherwise) on this transcendental New Zealand metal album in the comments below!

Give ear...

LISTEN: Planet of the Dead - Pilgrim

SOME BUZZ

Just little over a year following the release of their auspicious debut album, 'Fear of a Dead Planet' (2020), which attained more than 35,000 views on YouTube, New Zealand cosmic stoner and doom four-piece band Planet of the Dead are back with a new full-length album titled 'Pilgrims' (2021).

Hurtling towards the forever yawning void within their busted-up space freighter, they draw inspiration from classic science fiction and horror, and push supermassive and megalithic riffs to the outer limits.

"Our second album came together around the titular track 'Pilgrim', which is based on the book 'Slaughterhouse 5' by Kurt Vonnegut. Musically, it plays upon the themes of moments trapped in the amber." So says the band about this new album.

"Our basic concept is heavy music played heavy, and we try to keep it simple. There are recurrent themes in our riffs which gives the album a sense of coherence, but we've experimented with some new sounds in the latest album which we feel results in a greater sense of dynamism.

"Lyrically, we dug deeper into our obsessions with classic sci-fi and horror. There is a distinctive and undeniable fan-fiction element to our work. We actively seek out cultural references, and weave them into our tapestries. Ultimately, we do everything we do for the great god Dyzan, for his greater glory...and for our mutual pleasure.”

Set for release on July 23rd, 'Pilgrims' will surely cement Planet of the Dead’s reputation as serious riff merchants.

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#D&S Debuts #Planet of the Dead #Wellington #New Zealand #doom metal #stoner rock #fuzz #sludge #metal #D&S Reviews #sci-fi #Doomed and Stoned

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