#he is capable of acts of kindness but that is solely due to his whims of the day

[heartslikecrystal]

💢👪🎂🕷️🌏🔪💗❤️💙 for yasu pwease 🥺

Ahhhh my beloved hacker boy! Thank you for asking! ❤

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

The sporadic sleep schedule would be the biggest one, and definitely the most difficult to adjust to. Yasu consistently goes days on end without getting even a wink of sleep — not without outside interference, anyways. If left to his own devices, he would quite literally work himself to death. He’s just generally very bad at taking care of himself.

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

I actually just posted about his family last night ahah.

But yes, he has many siblings — five of them to be exact; three older and two younger. He is the very definition of a neglected middle child; although, a lot of the “neglect“ came from his own side of things, preferring to spend all of his time locked in his room instead of hanging out with the rest of the family. His childhood was perfectly normal, all things considered, and he hadn’t suffered any kind of major trauma that caused him to behave the way he does.

Yasu isn’t really close with any member of his family, not even his own parents. The only one of his siblings that he had a decent relationship with (before being arrested) was his youngest sister, Yuki. She was the only one that he held even a slight soft spot for.

While he is impartial to the rest of his siblings, he does find his oldest brother, Daisuke, to be particularly irritating due to his loud and energetic personality.

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Yasu’s birthday is May 29th. He’s a Gemini.

He doesn’t care to celebrate it, and usually just treats it like any other day. Even when he was young, and his family enjoyed celebrating everyone’s birthdays, he never really saw the point of it. Hundreds of babies are born every day, what made the day he was born special?

Now, though, the day often goes forgotten thanks to the days running together as he sits alone in his cell. Half the time, he doesn’t even know if it’s day or night, much less what specific date of the month it is. Even if you told him it was his birthday, he’d simply shrug it off.

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

If you were to ask him, he would tell you that he isn’t scared of anything. Thanks to his lack of any strong emotions or attachments to anything or anyone around him, there isn’t a lot that can get under his skin.

However, there are times when his mental state deteriorates so low that he becomes manic and goes through episodes of intense hallucinations and delusions that cause him to act wildly out of his usual character. That is when he is at his most vulnerable.

During those moments, for him, it feels as if the entire world is the darkest and scariest it’s ever been; everything and everyone is out to get him.

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

Yasu would give up the world on a whim.

For the majority of his life, the word “love” has not been a part of his vocabulary. Everything was either “tolerable” or “irritating”, with only complete neutrality in between. So for him to give up the world solely for the sake of another person is far too extreme of an emotion for him to be capable of feeling. But if someone were to break through that emotional barrier — to become a part of him that he couldn’t bear to live without — then, at least to some degree, he would give up anything else for that person.

The only thing he would not give up for anyone, even someone he came to care about, would be the ability to work with his computer.

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

That depends on who gets hurt, and for what reason.

If he were to get news of a member of his immediate family getting a serious life-threatening injury, then he might care to some degree; though, it would still be a passing worry before he ultimately moved on. The only exception is if one of them were to actually die — that would cause some conflicting emotions, subdued as they may be.

If his love interest were to get hurt (or worse, die), he would pretend as if it didn’t bother him — they were just another stranger to him — but on the inside, he’d completely shut down. It would affect him so deeply and subconsciously that he wouldn’t even be able to recognize what was wrong with him. Especially if it were to be because of him or a direct cause of his own actions; he wouldn’t know how to begin to process that.

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticeable? what changes when they’re in love?

It’s not noticeable in the slightest.

Yasu doesn’t even know what having a “crush” feels like. Even as it’s actively happening, the emotions are so muted that he barely even notices a difference himself. The weirdest thing about having a crush for him is just the fact that he’s not irritated at the prospect of being around that person. The fact that he doesn’t mind having that person around; he doesn’t mind that person touching him; he doesn’t mind that person talking to him — that’s the strangest part.

But you’d never be able to tell the difference either way, just by looking.

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

As I said before, Yasu doesn’t experience love in the same way as most other people do. For him, at least in his current state, it’s just tolerance. It can develop into something stronger under the right circumstances, but as he is at the time of canon, it’s just not plausible for him.

That being said, his main love language would be quality time. Even in the state he’s in, if he allows you to be in his space for any period of time without bitching about it, that’s the biggest show that he likes you.

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn’t around?

He really doesn’t act any different when he is around his love interest vs when they aren’t around. He might have a fleeting thought of where they might be or what they are up to, but it doesn’t last long.

The only time he’d really start to actively miss them is if he hasn’t seen or heard from them in a crazy long amount of time. It wouldn’t really be concern, per se, but a passing curiosity. If the time goes on even longer than that with no word from them at all, that’s when it would start to frustrate him why he keeps expecting them to walk through his door at any moment.

[joonsdiary]

worth fighting for (08)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre/warning: royalty au, historical au // humour, fluff, angst / tw: mentions of character death, alcohol consumption, playful!general jeon and over-thinker!reader is back, this chapter is me trying to juggle scene vs. plot, even more yearning, slowburn word count: 6,775

summary: fresh out of the perils of war, jungkook didn’t think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.

                                                                      EIGHT.

Dawn arrives without sunlight, carrying along with it the crispness of the air that signals the finality of summer. It’s unusual for you to feel such coldness so early in the year, but that only means that you’re much closer up north than you are in the capital. Your home. The mere thought of residing within the safety of the palace seems foreign and unfamiliar; remembering specific details feels as if you’re looking into someone else’s mind instead of your own.

Home now resides in the carriage you sleep in for much of your travels, or whichever dense forest you decide to stop over and rest for a few days. Home is the warmth of the quilt Jimin lends you; it’s the food he and Miyoung whip up in a pinch when ingredients are scarce, yet manage to taste delicious. Home is embodied in the way Jungkook’s eyes linger far longer than he intends to, thinking you haven’t noticed; it’s his noticeable hesitance around you, always teetering on the ledge between familiarity and professionalism.

Home is in the callousness of his stern voice when he instructs you to move in a particular way as you struggle to carry the long sword with both of your hands. It hadn’t been anything like the one he had lent you previously; the current one is much heavier, evident by the way your arms work strenuously just to be able to hold it properly.

The grass blade’s morning dew permeates into your shoe-less feet and you wobble from your position as he kicks your left leg further backwards.

“Like this?” you ask, unsure of your position. It feels awkward and unfamiliar; the weapon does nothing but makes your arms quiver in pain. Jungkook clicks his tongue as he uses his index finger to lift your elbow slightly higher than previously. You grit your teeth as you hold back the uncomfortable throbbing of your shoulders.

He finally nods in approval and you relent, groaning in frustration as you drop the hefty metal on the ground. It hasn’t been an hour since he woke you from your slumber to practice, and yet your forehead is already beaded with sweat. It’s hard to resist laying on the ground when the soft gust of wind tempts you to do so. Jungkook watches, eyes filled with curiosity as you yield to your whims and press yourself against the cold grass.

“That was intense. I didn’t think you’d make me hold the sword up for that long. If I didn’t know any better,” you pause to gaze suspiciously up at him, “I’d think this was some sort of punishment.”

“I thought you wanted something intense,” he shrugs nonchalantly, but the action comes across as a terrible attempt at hiding the roguish grin crawling on upwards on the corner of his lips. Smug bastard, what little remains of your dignity as a royalty prevents you from speaking the thought aloud.

“Yes, but I didn’t think you’d lend me the blade you use. Whatever happened to the wooden swords?” you whine, watching as he picks up the weapon with ease.

“It’s not too heavy,” he examines the sword before offering it back to you. “And you need to build up your strength—your arms are too weak.”

You simply stare at him impassively, hating that he has a point.

“It’s unfair. You’ve had twelve years of a head start, so you can’t say things like: It’s easy, Your Highness,” your tone is childish. But he stays impassive, undeterred by your mockery of him.

A few days ago after your full recovery, he met you in the middle with a compromise, promptly suggesting the idea himself that you should get back to practice if you were still willing to learn. Of course, you said yes in a heartbeat. It seems Jungkook’s mood is dictated by the moon and you know better than to simmer on a decision for long since the tides might turn against you in an instant.

You hadn’t known at the time of agreement how serious he would take the whole ordeal, jumpstarting you far off from where you left last time. At first, you took the challenge head-on but after three days of gruelling lessons and drills, fatigue is beginning to settle nicely deep within your bones.

“All the more reason why you should keep training.”

“You are cruel,” you finally take the weapon from his willing hands as you push yourself up with a groan. “One day, I will snap and drive this blade straight into your heart. Please be aware that all responsibility falls onto you for any such actions hereafter.”

His expression morphs into a lopsided grin; the kind that steals precious oxygen right out of your lungs. The absence of the morning sun’s warmth is scarcely felt when he’s practically bursting at the seams with radiance.

“I’d actually like to see you try.”

“I’m serious, General Jeon.”

“So am I.”

The palpable challenge in his eyes vexes you enough to accept, doing so by wordlessly picking up right where you left off. You stand, but not without much difficulty, before bending your knees into position. It takes all your remaining strength to ignore the ache in your muscles that soon follows. Taking a deep breath, you step forward with one foot as you sling the weapon with all the energy you have left. It undoubtedly fails as your unstable hands drop the sword once again.

You groan as you land on the ground for the second time. You appreciate that he’s fostering your growth towards improvement, but a little part of you is still convinced that he’s doing this solely out of spite.

For what, exactly, you’ve yet to coax the answer out of him.

“Aw, is the princess giving up?”

Especially when he says the right words to rile you up.

“No,” you roll your eyes. It’s hard not to act silly when he invites such reactions from you. “General Jeon is just being spiteful. But I suppose that’s nothing new.”

“I’m merely following direct orders from you, Your Highness,” he extends his hand in an effort to help you up, but you brush it away with a scoff. “Your stubborn streak continues, I see.”

You prepare yourself for a barrage of snide remarks, or perhaps even a lecture about your feeble attempt to learn sword fighting when you shouldn’t. Much to your surprise, he sits across from you instead, tucking his legs neatly underneath him. He slouches forward, resting his elbow on his thighs as he places his chin on top of his palm.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“It’s unfair if you’re the only one who gets to rest,” he says as he mindlessly plucks several pieces of grass at once before opening his palms to let the wind take them. “Barking orders at royalty turns out to be an exhausting task. Who knew?”

You grin in lieu of a verbal answer, and he returns the favour with a soft smile. There’s a pause, and when you don’t say anything further, the lids of his eyes flutter slowly before closing shut. There is no question that he seems to lack proper sleep, evident by the dark circles and heavy bags under his eyes. You’re beginning to suspect that staying up well after dusk has settled in order to stand guard is beginning to catch up to him — certainly now more than ever if he’s cutting hours of slumber just to train you.

Your pulse hums unabated at the thought, and you have to quickly remind yourself that he’s doing this not due to his own volition, but because you ordered him to.

“Jungkook,” you make an effort to whisper as quietly as you can. You didn’t mind that he hadn’t heard you, you’d simply pretend you hadn’t called him out in the first place. His breathing stays even, and you smile to yourself; if there is one thing you’ll never grow weary of, it has to be seeing him simply be at peace. It’s maddeningly frightening how one person has the capability of banishing all your worries away, no matter how trivial they might seem.

If you weren’t in trouble then, you certainly are now.

Like a moth to a flame, your gaze lands on his lips, reminding you of the kiss you had so boldly initiated with him. What seemed like seconds at that moment feels like a lifetime when it’s embedded deep in the crevices of your memory. It appeared to be a good idea then, a quick way to dispel an itching curiosity.

Curiosities like: Would your attraction for him dissipate in thin air if you kissed him? Would he even try to kiss you back? Would it progress your relationship further? Did you want it to progress? Do you even have time to be thinking about all these things?

(The answers are: No, no he didn’t, no it doesn’t seem like it, maybe so, and perhaps not.)

Now that your concerns have been partially satiated, only regret remains. That very same foolish curiosity only brought an insurmountable amount of consequences you’d preferably avoid. You’re grateful Jungkook hasn’t asked anything yet; you hope it stays that way, for the sake of your well-being. It’s reached a point where it seems as if he’d much rather avoid than confront the topic, as well.

(But would it have hurt for him to care in the slightest? His non-reaction makes your stomach coil uncomfortably more than it should.)

“I hate you,” slips out of your lips unprompted.

“So you keep saying,” he mumbles, and you flinch back at his unexpected response.

You know the consequence of him catching you is nothing serious, but that doesn’t stop your heart from knocking steadily against your ribcage. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Me? Never,” he cracks one eyelid open as if to wink. With a sly grin, he says, “I’m always watching.”

“In any other context that would sound extremely repulsive,” he laughs at your displeased expression before he stretches both his hands up with a yawn. “Thank you, regardless.”

He shrugs in good nature as his arms fall back down, shoulders slackened. You thought you’d learned to ignore that part of you that tugs painfully at your heartstrings every time he smiles, but apparently, that’s not the case.

“It’s what I’m here for, right?”

That’s right, Jungkook’s not here due to his discretion. He’s here for a specific reason, tasked by the king to look after you and ensure your safe deliverance to the hands of somebody you’ve yet to meet. You’ve not forgotten the mere fact, but the almost month-long voyage only reminds you of how delusional you were to think that mulling your feelings for Jungkook would end anywhere but devastation. You even went as far as to put him in utter discomfort by giving into your foolish desire and kissing him, with a lack of remorse as to how he would feel afterwards.

“What’s wrong?” your attention collapses back to Jungkook, who’s now staring at you with confusion. “I feel like you’re always having some sort of crisis every time we’re conversing.”

You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders, shake him out of his boots and say, “That’s because it’s you. You’re the cause of my woes.”

“I feel like I owe you an apology,” is what you tell him instead. You’re unsure of how to begin when his attention is fully focused on you, and instead wish he were still half asleep. Perhaps then you’ll find the right words. “It wasn’t my intention to—”

“I knew it,” he crosses his arms and straightens his back with a newfound sense of confidence. Your eyes widen in surprise; have the not-so-subtle hints of your proclamation of affection been made known to him?

“You were the one who ate the remaining piece of red bean rice cake last night. Jimin told me it was him, but I had an inkling he was covering for you.”

Of course not.

“What?” you gape at him, trying to blink your anger away at his sudden accusation. “No, it wasn’t me!”

“Mhm, sure,” his nose wrinkles in discontent. “You were well on your way to apologizing but now you’re denying it altogether. Tsk.”

“I wasn’t talking about that!”

“I’m hurt, Your Highness. You know that’s my favourite dessert.”

You did know. That’s why you didn’t even bother eating a piece of it after seeing how much he prefers them.

“I was going to apologize for the unwarranted kiss I gave you, but now I’m not so sure,” you mutter. He must have heard what you said regardless of the quietness of your voice because he visibly deflates, back slouching forward and eyes seemingly bugging out of their sockets.

“W-what?”

You resist the urge to smirk despite your embarrassment at his change in demeanour; all his arrogance is chased out with a mention of one word. Although you’re unsure if you should act with such haughtiness in the first place. Your own heart, after all, feels as though it’s about to erupt from delight. So you continue, making sure to tread forward cautiously.

“I don’t know if it was right of me to do such a thing without your permission.”

For days you’ve been battling with yourself for the right words to say. You’re still unsure, feeling as though everything that comes out of your mouth consists of the wrong words to say. Yet at the same time, holding on to it doesn’t seem feasible. Telling him outright is the best option, for better or for worse.

You study Jungkook’s expression, or lack thereof, as he stares into the distance with an impassive gaze, mouth agape and evidently unresponsive.

“General Jeon?” you wave your hand in his line of sight. Nothing. “Jungkook?”

His gaze finally meets yours, but only for a brief second, before his eyes scan the vast surrounding. He clears his throat before idly rubbing the nape of his neck. You can gauge his struggle with what to say by the way his mouth opens without uttering a word, then quickly closing.

“Apologizing is not necessary. I mean…” he trails off, and you hang onto every syllable he says. Your expectations soar to unattainable heights. “You weren’t feeling well, to begin with, so I’m aware you might not have fully realized your...um, actions at that time.”

Your mood quickly spirals, bringing along with it your hopes. And your poor, poor heart, always bearing the brunt of your misfortunes.

In essence, you should have seen that type of response coming. There’s nothing Jungkook did, or said, which would have made you misinterpret his intentions. This has always been a one-sided charade from the beginning, fueled by nothing else but your disillusion. Recalling the way you had acted so wantonly before him weeks ago even before the kiss occurred feels silly and juvenile. If you’re ever given means and the power to reverse time back to that situation once more, you would, only if it means saving your past self from your present heartache.

“I wasn’t apologizing because I was half asleep and didn’t realize what I was doing,” you mutter under your breath with a frown. You’re apologizing for the lack of consent, not because you think you made a mistake as he interpreted it. The fact that he even thinks it’s a mere slip-up says all you need to know.

“Hm?” with his furrowed brows he leans forward, encouraging you to repeat what you’ve said.

“I said it’s good we finally cleared that up,” you heaved a sigh as you noticed a movement from the corner of your eyes.

“I had a feeling you two would be slacking off,” Jimin offers his hand, which you gladly take. He pulls you towards him and with a bright grin, you mumble a quiet thank you. Jungkook mumbles something but you give your outpouring attention to Jimin instead.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been hard at work for the past few days,” you cross your arms with a pout. Jimin grins as he gently pats the top of your head.

“I know, Your Highness. That’s why I’ve come to save you; General Jeon asked if I could provide a less brute lesson. I couldn’t say no,” he angles closer to whisper, “or else he’ll have my neck below a guillotine.”

“Hey, there was no intimidation of sorts!” Jungkook protests.

“Jimin, your new dancing master, at your service,” he bows. When he straightens his back, he tosses you a wooden sword, which you catch with ease.

“We’re going back to these?” you inspect the material, brows furrowed in confusion. Wasn’t Jungkook preaching to you just moments ago about having to build resilience towards brandishing broader swords? You glance towards the general in question and catch his gaze momentarily but he looks away while scratching the back of his head. You glance back at Jimin instead. “Also, you never told me you were skilled.”

“You never asked, and I never thought to share,” he grins, slipping one hand behind his back as he holds the weapon with another. “I’m teaching you a different method than the general did, so yes, we’re using these again. But only for a little while.”

You grip the object with both your hands and Jimin shakes his head.

“One hand,” he instructs sternly, and you chew your lower lip in hesitance. You relent, however, and point the sword towards him with your right hand. Its heaviness is magnified by the soreness of your muscles, but you grit your teeth instead of complaining.

“I suppose he grew tired of teaching me, since he asked you,” Jimin strikes swiftly above your head and you parried, albeit clumsily. Jungkook laughs somewhere behind you.

“He practically begged me to let him take over.”

Your eyes trail back towards Jungkook briefly, allowing Jimin to jab you on your torso. You push his sword off with yours as you frown, but he merely grins with glee.

“Eyes to me, Your Grace,” Jimin catches your attention with another stab on your lower shoulder. “You just died.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue as he folds his hands above his chest. The way he mockingly shakes his head puts you in a foul mood. “You’re always unfocused. I thought we’d gone over this before.”

“That’s because you’re the one distracting her, General,” Jimin says pointedly, and you nod in agreement before you realize what he said.

“Exactly! Thank you, Ji— wait, no.”

“I highly doubt that.”

You and Jungkook speak over each other, prompting you to face him with a scowl. Jimin merely watches with a bemused expression. “Miyoung was right, this is going to be entertaining.”

//

The following morning, it’s Jimin who wakes you before daybreak. He explains that it might be the last proper training you’ll have before you embark once more. It’s not like you’ll decline otherwise, so you do your best to rub the tiredness out of your eyes. You work to move with as little noise as possible so you don’t wake Miyoung, who’s still sound asleep, as you slip in a pair of unworn trousers lent by Jungkook previously. Because according to him it seems tough to move in a billowy skirt, which is something you both agree on without any argument (for once, it seems). The fabric is large, undoubtedly, but they weigh less than your dress; movement is not much of an issue as it had been.

Much to your surprise, it’s Jungkook you see outside of your tent, however, who continues to sport fatigued, sunken eyes.

“I thought the point of Jimin taking over was so that you can catch up on sleep,” you greet him with a soft nudge to his arm.

“I don’t remember that being the reason,” he replies with a lazy grin before running his hands through his dark hair. You belatedly remember that you hadn’t exactly pointed it out to him the day previous.

“Well, it should be. You’re in dire need of rest, General Jeon.”

“I’ll catch up on sleep when I’m dead.”

You know he means it in jest, as evident by the playful lilt in his tone, but there’s nothing amusing about imagining his demise. The thought of losing him, now more than ever, sends your stomach spiralling into intricate knots.

He frowns when you stay unresponsive, and inches closer before reaching up to pinch your cheeks. “Good thing I work for you as a general and not a royal jester. Or else the frown on your face would get me thrown in the dungeons.”

“I don’t recall permitting you to touch me,” you glower, but no effort is placed into moving away even an inch.

He stares at you in disbelief. “Who was the one that decided, completely unprompted, to put their lips on mine—”

You’re swift to place your palm on Jungkook’s mouth to silence him when you spot Jimin emerging from his tent.

“Did I interrupt something?” he looks between the two of you as he approaches. You free yourself from Jungkook and he doesn’t protest when you pull away.

“I was just telling General Jeon that he didn’t have to come with us so he could rest,” you give Jimin a strained smile before giving Jungkook a pointed look.

“Alright, as you wish,” it still surprises you, however, when he relents without much protest. “I shall not be a distraction, as you so-kindly point out I was being, for you this time around.”

He winks at you and gestures a salute towards Jimin before walking towards his sleeping quarters.

“Does he always do that?” Jimin asks as you both watch his figure disappear behind the tent.

“Do what?”

“Pretend to be all smug. I’m only speculating, but his ears were practically bleeding scarlet.”

You bite your lower lip to prevent a grin from spilling, but they curl upwards nonetheless. No matter how direct his words may seem or how rough he wants to appear, he still gets shy, after all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize why Jimin refers to himself as a dance master, despite the name baffling you the first time you heard it. The man moves with such poise and grace that you would never expect in someone teaching sword fighting. It’s a skill no one possesses but him, and him alone.

When the afternoon arrives, you forgo resting altogether and push Jimin to use the sabre he brought along with him.

“Right,” he announces just as you deflect his oncoming blade with yours. “Right. Right. Left. Low. Left. Right,” he’s relentless in his attacks, not letting you breathe even just for a moment as he steps forward with each command. You move back, but meet each blow with calmness as you keep your left hand training behind you.

“Heads up,” he thrusts forward as you sidestep, swiping his sword with yours and subsequently disarming him. You point the blade, barely touching his neck as you huff with satisfaction.

“I win this round,” you announce with excitement, as you lower the weapon. Jimin claps in the wake of your triumph and you make the effort to amuse him with a bow.

“After losing seven in a row,” Jungkook points out. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance but choose to ignore his snide remarks; so far, your attempts to combat his presence as a distraction have been working. Hours prior, he arrived to convince you to take a break, but you refused when Jimin admitted he wasn’t tired yet, so Jungkook opted to stay on the sidelines and watch, instead. “You are picking this up faster than I thought.”

You finally turn to him, chin high with pride. “It’s easier since it’s lighter than your sword. And I actually don’t mind having to carry it with one hand as much anymore.”

Pain clambers from your back shoulder all the way to your right arm as you boast, but you repress the affliction with the grit of your teeth. You hope none of them noticed the slight change in your demeanour as you turn to Jimin.

“Thank you for being patient with me.”

“It’s an honour to be able to share my knowledge with you, Your Highness,” Jimin bows, but you’re quick to push his shoulders and straighten his posture back up.

“No need to be so formal. I should be the one who’s honoured. I feel quite embarrassed to not have known you possess such talent.”

His cheeks turn ruddy as he looks away. “Ah, well…”

“Yeah, we could have used your expertise weeks ago when we were attacked. Maybe I wouldn’t have been injured, then,” Jungkook adds, slinging an arm around Jimin. The latter huffs as he crosses his arms defensively.

“To be fair, I thought you had that handled, General,” he deadpans. “Thank heavens the princess was there to save us.”

The statement must have rubbed Jungkook the wrong way as he moved to place Jimin in an uncomfortable headlock. Despite the obvious disadvantage he’s in, Jimin giggles, whining about how Jungkook should learn to respect his elders. Jungkook relents with a chuckle and Jimin sulks, gently rubbing the nape of his neck.

“I knew I should’ve shared sooner, but I honestly thought you’d be insulted by it,” your brows knit in confusion at Jimin’s words, but you let him continue. “A lot of people don’t prefer this style of combat because it’s slower and often a defensive method. There’s a lot of waiting and anticipating the enemy’s moves. General Jeon’s style is more straightforward; you’re taught to attack, which is the usual training for our infantry. Also, the blade isn’t as impressive.”

You examine the steel in your hands — it’s merely a little more than the size of your fingers. You offer to return the weapon to him, and he takes it. “It’s much easier to wield, nevertheless.”

“That’s what made me reluctant, to begin with. I wasn’t sure if you were going to take offence simply because it might seem easier.”

You profusely shake your head in disagreement. “I can only hope to be half as skilled as you while emulating your poise.”

“I swear my ego is always being fed every time we talk, Your Highness.”

“If anything, you deserve all the praise in the world for being such a gifted mentor,” you hear Jungkook clear his throat beside you.

“It’s really the least I could do. After seeing you dedicate yourself, I couldn’t just stand by and watch idly, twiddling my thumbs.”

You grin shyly at his words, unsure of what to say next. It’s Jungkook who breaks the silence as he nods towards the direction of your campsite. “If you two are done flirting, I think Miyoung is trying to call Jimin.”

He quickly sheathes the sword and turns to wave back at her. “I almost forgot I was going to help her pack up before we embark tomorrow,” his attention returns to you momentarily, his smile mischievous. “It turns out you carry a lot of items with you, Your Highness.”

“H-hey, most of the items were bought along the way. I didn’t,” you pause when he runs off. “I’m demoting him from dance master back to a stable boy. I swear.”

“I highly doubt that. You can barely resist the man,” Jungkook mumbles impassively, and you chuckled in agreement.

“That I can’t deny.” You turn to follow after Jimin, but before you could take one step, Jungkook grabs your wrist tightly causing you to hiss in pain.

“You’re injured,” he murmurs, forehead creasing with worry.

“It’s fine,” you twist your arm to free yourself from his hold, but it only brings you more discomfort. You bite your lower lip to prevent a moan from revealing your true condition. You watch as he rolls your sleeve up. “I’m fine, General Jeon, I don’t need you—ack!”

This time, Jungkook allows you to pull your hand back, and you cradle it against your chest protectively. “Please don’t do that.”

“I barely pressed your skin.” He gently tugs on your arm and despite your early protests, you relent and let him examine your hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you mumble as he drags your sleeve further up, revealing a newly formed mark on your forearm. Jungkook turns to you, eyes thinning to slits in an obvious look of disapproval. “It’s not! I’ll be fine.”

He grows quiet as his grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go of your arm completely. Gaze downcast, his thumb runs gently across the bruise, as if doing so would ease the pain.

(It does. Because for the briefest moment your attention is shifted away from your burning muscles and onto the singular point where his skin meets yours.)

“I’m not a fragile porcelain made simply for display, Jungkook.”

“Says the person who almost got swept away by the river.”

“That was one time.”

“One time is still too many, if you ask me,” his bottom lip juts into a pout. It took quite a lot of self-control not to giggle at his defeated state.

“As you said, that’s what I have you for,” your free hand finds its way up the top of his head to ruffle his hair. You feel his body go rigid upon your touch. “I’ll try not to get killed to make your life easier, don’t worry. That’s why I want to become stronger.”

Jungkook hesitates, before inhaling sharply. “You know that you don’t have to prove yourself to me, or anybody for that matter,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. The sudden seriousness in his tone almost gives you whiplash.

“What do you mean? I’m not doing this to prove anything,” you intend to keep your voice level to let him know you took no malice in his words.

His forehead creased in confusion, nonetheless, eyes searching yours. “Then what?”

Prior conversations with him play in your mind, persistent and foreboding. One wrong word could send Jungkook spiralling into the limbo between a stranger and someone seemingly only there because he’s bound by the duty to serve his country. The thought of laying down parameters for you to walk around each other is terrifying.

Therefore, you believe there’s no use in being privy to your fears anymore; not when you’re about to enter the lion’s den. “The same reason as before. I just want to be able to protect myself, and everyone for that matter, including you. That isn’t to say that I don’t trust you, but I want to be of use if there comes a time when—” you pause, unsure of how to continue. Jungkook’s worried gaze is unnerving, but he allows you to finish your train of thought. “Hearing your horror stories about the dangers that might be waiting for us when we cross that border…”

“I’m not saying everyone who lives there has evil intentions by default. I’m just relaying whatever information I’ve been told by the others.”

His statement makes you wonder even more why your father decided to ship off his only heir if they weren’t the kindest people, to begin with. Surely, he was aware of their reputation despite how diplomatic he thought the matrimony would be.

Jungkook continues. “I’m sure Min Yoongi is reasonable. I heard he refused to let his men get killed in battle, so they yielded. He probably agreed to this deal because he’s a pacifist, unlike his father.”

No matter how reassuring his words are on the surface, there’s still an underlying tone of uncertainty in his voice. It’s understandable because neither he nor you know what type of danger lies when you step foot beyond the safety of your kingdom. You couldn’t bring yourself to muster even a smile as a response.

Jungkook must have sensed your distress as his fingers slid down to clasp his hand in yours. The gesture might not be anything other than a mere consolation, but it’s enough to keep your nerves buzzing with intensity.

“I won’t let harm come to you. I promise,” the gentle breeze seems to heave a sigh, ruffling the fringes of his hair ever so softly.

You hold the weight of his words gently between the warmth of his palm against yours. In reality, no matter how much you try to shield yourself by swimming away, you’re caught by the hooks and reeled right back into him, always. The space he occupies within the confines of your heart grows infinitely larger each day that passes by, and you’re unsure if you should feel elated or terrified.

*  *  *

Min Yoongi reckons he has a great sense of proclivity for fortune without ever having to work for it; all according to hearsay, that is. He never quite understood where such sentiment roots from. The last time he checked, the inheritance rightfully belongs to him so any notion that he has to “work” for anything is moot. However, being within close reach of the throne does come at a costly price; one that is paid with people’s lives as currency. It seems that when one barters with Fate, Death comes tagging along.

The first victim is his younger brother.

During the tail-end of the recent war that passed, he catches wind of the crown prince’s demise and immediately orders his men to withdraw from their position of defence to return safely behind enemy lines. Retreating at the first whiff of danger is not his proudest moment, admittedly, but at the time he decided he wanted to be alive to see another sunset rather than being buried six feet below the ground to become a feast for maggots. As much as he’s a man of pride, he still values his life to a certain extent; at least enough to get himself out of peril.

It seems to be a backwards decision to the people of Tuo, but he is to assume the crown prince’s responsibility, therefore assuming the position to control what little remains of their infantry. The subsequent and constant deterioration of his father from an unmistakably paralyzing disease no one in the kingdom knew the cure of only brought about his hurried ascension to the throne. Yet, instead of being elated in the position he finds himself in, he’s inclined to feel otherwise.

And rightfully so, because the provision to him being a ruler includes marriage to a certain princess who heralds from the land which they sought war in order to stake a claim on.

His father, unbeknownst to Yoongi during the genesis of the agreement, promptly carried out a deal with the so-called scums of the South to unite the two countries together through matrimony. The inclination to roll his eyes is strong with such a clichéd premise.

“Even on your deathbed, you manage to make life a living hell for me. I commend you for that, I suppose,” he mutters under his breath, tightly clutching the neck of the ceramic vial that holds his rice wine. He’s well aware that his father couldn’t hear him from a safe distance. He isn’t even sure the king is alive at this point—for all he knows, the queen could be playing it up to prevent Yoongi from fulfilling the role of the king.

His father lays peacefully, bed surrounded by a thin, almost see-through muslin fabric. The canopy serves both as a barrier and a warning; unless you’re an experienced physician or the unfortunate chambermaid who has to look out for him, you should not pass through.

“You despised that your favoured son to inherit the throne died, making me the next in line. That’s why you’re doing this, am I right?” he raises his voice, unconcerned with the fact that servants and guards just outside the room can possibly hear him. “A matrimony I never agreed to.”

He’s unsure whether it’s a well-known truth among the nobles and anybody else living inside the palace walls, but it does raise questions in their minds as to why Yoongi hadn’t been the second in line to the throne after his father. But then again, nobody questions anything the Mad King did or said, not when he raised hell against his enemies in the South, and certainly not when he declared his second-born son as his successor.

Except for Death, of course, who’s seemingly the only true entity that’s able to cripple the king in his tracks. He likes to think Death is on his side and took away the bane of his existence, the stain in his claim to the throne. But then again Death also took the only person that matters in his miserable life, so Yoongi concludes one simply cannot have everything they covet. Perhaps he is lucky after all, and fortune will willingly land on his lap if he so wishes.

Too bad it’s not what he truly desires.  

Yoongi takes a swig of his makgeolli wine, taking pleasure in the way the fiery water washes down the undesirable lump in his throat. He chugs and chugs, ignoring the excess liquid that spills from the corners of his mouth, as he desperately wishes for the goddamn ache in his chest to disappear. Once the ceramic decanter runs dry, he tosses it across the room and the chambermaid yelps in surprise when it shatters into tiny pieces.

A low chuckle emits from within his chest as his legs buckle from underneath him, bringing his knees down on the wooden floors with a thud.

“Do you really expect me to roll over like an injured beast and be receptive to whatever it is that you’ve planned for me?”

He didn’t think the people who they called enemies merely a few months ago would easily submit to such a fallacy for the sake of maintaining “peace”. But they immediately sent out the only heir to their throne, and without so much as a mere palace guard as a form of protection! Yoongi partially believes they’re more foolish than any palace jester he’s met, but the failure of the men he hired makes him conservative against such prejudice.

Perhaps dealing with their princess will be quite entertaining, after all.

“It’s a damn shame you won’t be alive to see what will become of this kingdom and its people whom you failed,” he hollers in between his unhinged laughter as he clutches his stomach. He swipes the spill on his chin using the sleeves of his golden speckled black robe. “Don’t worry, my only aim is to uphold your vilified reputation. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything sacrilegious, certainly not one that you haven’t already attempted in the slightest. After what you did to her, it’s the least I could do in return—”

“Sorry to bother, Your Majesty, but the queen has arrived for her visit,” the eunuch’s voice pierces through the closed doors, interrupting him. Yoongi hisses in indignation as he staggers to get up from his position. “Do you need a bit more time?”

“I’ll be right out, for fuck’s sake,” he manages to get to the door without stumbling over. The door slides open to reveal the eunuch in question, as well as the queen herself, in all her youth and glory, and the now noticeable bump on her belly. Yoongi doesn’t know how she managed to procure such a thing from his father, at that state, not to mention at her uncertain age to bear another child, but he digresses.

“Queen Dowager,” he slurs, choosing the name for no particular reason other than to draw ire from her. She finally shows her maturity when her forehead wrinkles in displeasure, showing certain lines that cannot be hidden by the flaked lead she generously patted on her face.

“What an abhorrent name to greet your mother,” she seethes and Yoongi couldn’t hold back his scoff. “Especially when the king is very much still alive.”

“Is he, though?” he points behind him with his chin mockingly, before his grin widens. “I’ll leave you to it then, Mother. Be careful though, he just won’t shut up. I could barely get a word in.”

Yoongi collapses on the floor when he takes another step, prompting the eunuch and some court ladies to rush to his aid. He waves them off with a mumble and a hand gesture, before pushing himself up using the wall.

“Sober up, will you,” the queen calls out from behind him. “Our guests should arrive tomorrow.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth curls up in delight as he locks gazes with the eunuch, whose face blanches with fright.

“Finally.”

— previous ; next ; series masterlist

note (edit): now that i don’t want to claw my eyes out from being sleepy, i just want to give credit to “game of thrones” (book one) for bearing inspiration to this chapter. again i hope you enjoyed reading ♡

taglist: @apurpledheart @koochiekoo @fan-ati--c @grandqueen1533 @awsome-small-k @novusluna @yodakoo14 @politically-acurate @bangtandongsaeng @taevkimchi @ausjeons​ @zxlummxxd​

[scripturehomosexuality]

Editorial: #MeToo, Same-Sex Activity, and How The Two Are Related

For many months, even as I was writing on this blog, I have been closely watching the #MeToo movement sweeping through the U.S. At first, I was keeping out of it. Though I supported it initially, its original purpose wasn’t related to this blog’s purpose, so I didn’t intend to remark on it.

However, things have changed so much, and the stakes have been raised so high, this male writer feels compelled to say something on it.

Now, before I go any further, I need to make the following perfectly clear: I do not hate women. I do not support the rape or sexual assault of any woman (or man), under any circumstances. Rape and sexual assault is always inexcusable. I’m sure any longtime reader of this blog will know that I do not endorse misogyny. In fact, the Additional Links page will unequivocally show that I support both female sexuality and male sexuality.

As such, if you disagree with what I’m about to say, please do not flood my inbox with condemnatory messages. If you wish to comment, please use the Discus plugin at the end of this post, which allows guest and pseudonymous commenting.

As I said before, sexual assault and rape horrifies me, so I initially supported the #MeToo movement. However, as November 2017 came along, I began to have reservations. To me, it was beginning to feel like a general witchhunt. To give #MeToo the benefit of the doubt, I kept quiet and kept watching its development.

Now, it seems my apprehension was justified. More men and women find the movement increasingly troubling. We are all disturbed by its apparent inability to make distinctions. Sophomoric behavior and mild harassment are being equated to rape and sexual assault. Due process is being skipped in favor of swift justice, as accusations are now enough to impose severe punishment. The fact that women are human beings too, and thus are equally capable of fabrication, is becoming too taboo to suggest.

By no means am I defending the rape and sexual assault of women. My point is that, in trying to end those harmful actions, we’re throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Not every problem is a nail that must be hammered, which the #MeToo movement doesn’t seem to realize.

The crescendo reached a climax this week, as comedian Aziz Ansari was accused of sexual assault. What was the problem? The Ansari story was quite ordinary to most people. To them, it was too ordinary to merit public shaming.

Because of all this, I can confidently say that the #MeToo movement has been hijacked. Rape and sexual assault are now a minimal focus of this movement. Right now, it’s focused on transforming our sexual culture into one that is punitively and brutally governed by certain women. It seems bent on creating a system where, solely by a woman’s whim, an encounter caused by mixed messages becomes punishable sexual assault.

Other writers are reaching similar conclusions. In fact, a few writers openly say that we’re in a full blown sex panic. In a column for the New York Daily News, philosopher Christina Hoff Sommers said “a new puritanism seems to be ascendant,” where “suddenly, office Christmas parties and happy hours are under a cloud.”

As such, there is a vital point being missed in the debate - the #MeToo movement is inextricably linked to developments involving “homosexuality”. If we are serious in analysing what caused the movement, and where it is headed, we must consider this indispensable history.

Firstly, the #MeToo movement owes its existence to the recent history of “homosexuality”. In the United States, the current definition includes all same-sex acts, with “gender inversion” an important but secondary component. At this point, participation in any same-sex act counts as “homosexuality”.

As much as that definition seems established, it’s actually pretty new. Before the second half of the 20th century, “homosexuality” was more defined by “gender inversion” than behavior. Engagement in same-sex activity didn’t automatically merit a “homosexual” identity. From the 1930s onward, a man felt compelled to identify as “homosexual” if

he was primarily or exclusively attracted to men (which was considered a form of “gender inversion”)

his mannerisms parodied those of women

Even then, true “homosexual” men were considered to be effeminate.

We must also remember that back then, sex was mainly defined by penetration. Thus, if the contact was non-penetrative, it wasn’t “sex” per se. After World War II, anal sex started becoming more common in the “homosexual” identified community. However, among non-”homosexual” men, the contact usually was non-penetrative.

As a result of these factors, same-sex activity was relatively common for non-”homosexual” men up until the mid-20th century. It didn’t automatically require a new identity, and since they avoided anal, their contact didn’t count as “sex” for most people. As a result, the rate of premarital opposite-sex contact was also relatively low. Since they were having sexual satisfaction with fellow men, contact with women wasn’t as necessary. 

That began changing with the Stonewall Rebellion of 1969. The revolt caused massive upheaval in both the “homosexual” and non-”homosexual” worlds. Now, “homosexual” men could now be validly masculine and effeminate, as shown by the explosion of the Castro Clone. What those masculine and feminine men shared in common - their engagement in same-sex activity - increasingly became the basis of the new “gay” identity.

This wasn’t all. From its slow start after WWII, anal sex became widespread in the “gay” community by the mid-1970s. Up until that time, and despite its increasing popularity, anal still had a bad reputation among “gay” men. Then, as the late 1970s arrived, a cultural seismic shift happened. Anal soon became the ultimate fulfillment of “gay” love, and a necessary act for “gay” men.

In the 1980s, these factors helped change the overall sexual culture of the United States.

HIV/AIDS, a disease mainly spread through anal play, began ravaging the “gay” community. Yet the “gay” community was not the only group affected. The entire United States was traumatized by the disease, because to a point, it affected them too. A significant number of presumed “heterosexual” men, including celebrities like Rock Hudson and Anthony Perkins, were among those who died from AIDS.

These deaths were significant because, while they were “gay” identified and very active in the “gay” community, their identity and activity was unknown to the general public. They were able to keep it hidden because outwardly, they appeared to be “normal” men, and were thus presumed to be “heterosexual” identified.

As to why they interacted in the “gay” community, remember a point made before - the morphing definition of “homosexuality”. Because of that, more of these men felt compelled to sexually engage in the “gay” community, even though that wasn’t the case a few decades before. Unfortunately, that also means they engaged in sexual practices unique to the “gay” community that gave them the disease.

Since men not perceived as “homosexual” were AIDS victims, the predominant definition of “homosexuality” (still mostly based on gender inversion) appeared inadequate. Thus, the definition fully and quickly turned into the behavior-based definition that dominates today.

At the same time, it appears the fact that anal sex drove the epidemic, in lieu of other same-sex acts, was lost on the general public. As a result, all same-sex activity began to gain a stigma.

These other relevant factors added into the mix -

Remnants of 1950s Red Scare attitudes. Though the fervor of McCarthyism waned in the 1950s, elements of its attitudes endured throughout the Cold War era. As such, during the Red Scare, a link was established between “homosexuality” (as they defined it then) and Communism. The AIDS epidemic breathed new life into these ideas.

Growth of the Religious Right. The 1970s was characterized by many revolutionary movements - Women’s Liberation, Gay Liberation, the Sexual Revolution, the acceptance of evolution, etc. In response to the changes, a new reactionary form of Christianity developed. Seeing themselves as saviors as morality, the Religious Right staunchly opposed the “gay” community, and “homosexuality” by extension. In the face of the AIDS epidemic, they abandoned reinforcing their historical condemnation of anal sex. Instead, they went full-throttle with the shifting definition of “homosexuality”. As the definition continued to change, their condemnation of “homosexuality” continuously grew in scope and sharpened in tone.

The changing definition of sex. Before long, STDs began affecting “straight” relationships. At times, these diseases were spread through acts that weren’t usually considered “sex”. As a result, sex was soon defined by both penetrative and non-penetrative acts. Paradoxically, this helped reinforce the shifting definition of homosexuality. For better or worse, all same-sex acts were now validly “sex”, and thus were validly “homosexual”.

All these factors combined into a ferocious hysteria over same-sex activity. This hysteria would increase correspondingly with the growth of AIDS, as it reached its peak during the 1990s. However, one of the features of hysteria is its irrationality, as it perceives threats in all kinds of places. Thus, the resulting stigma over same-sex activity soon spread to same-sex attraction, and even to homoerotism.

The frequency of same-sex activity in the general population went down dramatically, as everyday people wanted to escape being touched by the growing hysteria. At the same time, the rates of opposite-sex contact outside marriage shot through the roof. This strongly suggests that, true to their bisexuality, most people went to the opposite gender when same-sex activity became unacceptable. It was in this environment that our current sexual culture - where opposite-sex contact outside marriage is expected - became set in stone.

In other words, the AIDS stigma created the culture that made #MeToo possible. That fact is inescapable, and utterly necessary to understand this movement’s origins. If AIDS didn’t happen, opposite-sex activity outside marriage wouldn’t have become as acceptable or prevalent. As a result, there would have been no culture that could have spawned anything like #MeToo.

Secondly, the radical feminist movement (which is driving the #MeToo phenomenon) is a sister of the modern “gay” movement. As such, many habits existing in the “gay” world are replicating themselves in the #MeToo movement.

For instance, the “gay” movement has no ability to make common sense distinctions. To them all sex is good yet risky, despite all evidence that anal is uniquely dangerous. To them both men and women are designed for penetration, despite all evidence that they are not. To them all men into men have always had anal sex, despite direct and circumstantial evidence to the contrary.

In the same way, and as said before, #MeToo makes similar moves. To the movement, clumsy advances and sophomoric jokes are apparently tantamount to rape or assault. All merit brutal and severe punishment. In its view, no woman is capable of coloring or fabricating stories, and few men treat women with the dignity they deserve. In fact, a few writers openly wonder how women can pass ANY man on the sidewalk without fear.

As another example, both movements feel that “if you’re not with us, you’re against us”. In other words, if your opinions don’t march in lockstep with their own, you will be considered their enemy. It doesn’t matter how much you might agree with them.

This has been the reigning motto of the “gay” movement for years. This is why this blog, the g0y movement, the Man2Man Alliance, and other like outlets are ignored or opposed. We agree that the Religious Right has abused their power considerably, and must be stopped from causing further damage. However, we also oppose the anal sex ethos of the LGBT leadership, because we see that as equally harmful. For those and other differences of opinion, we have earned their scorn.

Additionally it should be noted that, when talking about the “gay” movement, the Man2Man Alliance said that their attitudes reeked of fascism.

Something similar is happening with the radical feminist movement that is driving #MeToo. Their more moderate members have voiced concerns over the direction #MeToo is taking, and the overall thrust of the movement. In response, they have been viciously attacked and ridiculed by their fellow feminists. Anything other than uniform opinion will not be tolerated. Examples include Cassie Jaye, Laci Green, and Catherine Deneuve.

Another commonality comprises our third point - both movements contain a vicious streak of misandry, which seems to be currently driving the #MeToo movement.

The “gay” movement has been proudly misandronic for years. To them, masculinity naturally gives birth to homophobia, despite the fact that masculinity has never been a monolith. Anything that seems masculine is constantly disparaged and denigrated, and deserves destruction. “Straight-acting gay” men are treated with suspicion and skepticism, because they don’t want to imitate women in their mannerisms. To them, the more a man imitates a woman in everything he does, the better.

In saying this, I’m not trying to disparage women. My point is that the “gay” movement constantly slams things that are most natural to men, and instead encourages behavior that isn’t natural for them.

On a closely related note, that’s also why their worship of anal makes sense. Throughout history, the penetrated male was thought to be “acting like a woman”. Whether the “gay” leadership admits it or not, that same logic guides them today. They also believe anal feminizes a male, which they think is proper and desirable.

That’s also a reason why they hate frot with a passion - it’s simply too masculine for them to tolerate.

The radical feminists do the same thing. Of late, they have constantly decried the effects of “toxic masculinity”. This phrase usually doesn’t say that certain forms of masculinity are toxic, which is completely true. Instead it says that masculinity itself is toxic and evil, and deserves total eradication. That is shown in terms they have coined that associate masculinity with incivility - “mansplaining”, “manspreading”, etc. Their words constantly encourage female distrust and dislike of men. As a result, as Cathy Young said in the Washington Post, “Things have gotten to a point where casual low-level male-bashing is a constant white noise in the hip progressive online media.”

As part of its misandry, radical feminism also wishes to control how men interact with each other, even in the smallest of matters. A post from the Man2Man Alliance mentions an interesting development among Blackwater mercenaries (U.S. military contractors) in 2007 Iraq. In their off hours, the male mercenaries liked to sunbathe naked together on their trailer roofs. That came to an end when female helicopter pilots flew overhead, became extremely displeased, and complained to their superiors.

Think about that for a minute. These men were simply minding their own business, and weren’t bothering the female pilots at all. They were simply doing what felt comfortable. Plus, this probably wasn’t the first time those pilots saw penises. Yet, they felt compelled to disrupt a naturally occurring male activity, simply because they didn’t like it. What motivated these women to react so strongly?

As Alliance founder Bill Weintraub put it, “their objection...is the expression of a puritan impulse, and a puritan impulse alone.” This same puritan impulse seems to characterize radical feminism, which evidently motivated the pilots’ actions. It also seems to drive the #MeToo movement.

Mind you, things are even worse now. A recent British study told women that male friendships posed a deep threat to their own relationships with men, and encouraged them to keep those relationships under surveillance. Thus, the deep feminist suspicion of male intimacy rages on.

Thus, to me, this is what’s really driving the #MeToo movement at present. The radical feminists are no longer satisfied with controlling male relationships. Now, they wish to dictate how men interact with them and other females, where women have total possession of the keys of power.

Once again, I’m not trying to disparage women. My point is that as long as one gender feels justified to dominate the other - men over women or women over men - there will always be war. Ultimately, a gender war benefits neither men nor women. At most, extremists of either gender will be the only victors.

At this point however, I hope you fully understand how “homosexuality” relates to #MeToo. They are completely enmeshed and impossible to separate. This connection fully reveals the origins of this movement, and the motivations for its current actions. #MeToo also reveals what was “business as usual” inside the “gay” world, in a way most people can no longer ignore. Whether most people realize it or not, the attitudes of the “gay” world are now affecting their own lives.

As such, this link leads to a question no one is asking - how “homosexuality” will affect the endgame of the #MeToo movement.

First of all, I completely agree that #MeToo will affect our entire sexual culture. Quotes from a “Spiked Online” article by 13 female writers shows that clearly. In the article, writer Joanna Williams said “...a new wariness has taken hold. A voice in our heads asks how our interactions might be interpreted by others. Is it best to leave the office door open? Invite a third party along to the lunch meeting? Under what circumstances can you hug a colleague? Or touch their elbow?” Meanwhile, writer Lionel Shriver said, “I am concerned that sex itself seems increasingly to be seen as dirty, and as a violation, a form of assault, so that we’re repackaging an old prudery in progressive wrapping paper.”

As such, this will affect men more seriously than you might realize. Remember what was said before - our modern sexual culture aren’t that old, and are historically unprecedented.

If this movement happened under past sexual concepts, the outcome would be different. In times past, “sex” was defined by penetration, and thus excluded most same-sex activity. Thus, if “sex” indeed became a taboo activity, that wouldn’t equate to male sexual deprivation. Instead, those men would turn to each other for sexual pleasure. They would have been able to satisfy their urges even as the hysteria raged on.

That doesn’t exist today. In the United States, “homosexuality” now includes all same-sex activity and attraction, and engagement in such activity now warrants the “gay” label. This process has inordinately affected male relationships throughout its duration. As modern sexual philosophy further evolves, it encroaches further into more areas of life. At this point, “bromances” are increasingly considered light versions of “homosexuality”, which might lead to their stigmatization in the near future.

This takes away the avenue of same-sex intimacy from most men. Thus, as sexual interaction with women becomes more precarious, we will enter an unprecedented reality. One of two outcomes will then happen, both of which are equally horrendous -

Most men will end up having no sex at all

In their frustration, those men may immerse themselves into the “gay” world with all its concepts and practices, including its disastrous practice of anal play

The first one will have effects that, in a very scary way, we cannot exactly predict. Sex is a need of most humans that must be satisfied somehow, much like eating and drinking. As such, Psychology Today plainly says, “Nothing inspires murderous mayhem in human beings more reliably than sexual repression...if expression of sexuality is thwarted, the human psyche tends to grow twisted into grotesque, enraged perversions of desire.”

Sexual repression among Christians has helped transform modern porn in size and content. Can you imagine what will happen if such repression exists throughout the United States? Do we really want to create sexually desperate men who will act out in harmful ways?

Mind you, I have my own reservations with our current sexual culture. Since intimacy among men is so taboo, men feel compelled to satisfy same-sex needs in opposite-sex relationships. This causes all kinds of dysfunction that’s unnecessary, but at least there’s some manner of sexual outlet. If total sexual repression becomes reality in the United States, no man or woman would be safe.

The second one will have effects that we do know, which are equally scary. The “gay” world conceptualizes same-sex activity as an abnormality, which is extremely harmful. That thinking justifies the practice of anal play, which has caused all kinds of medical, physical, and psychological harm. If sexual frustrated “straight” men enter this world, the resulting explosion of disease and injury would threaten human life.

Worst of all, it would trivialize women (and men) with real claims of sexual assault and rape. The systems causing so many problems would remain. Only the positions of the players would change.

In other words, under current conditions, the current version of #MeToo would be disastrous.

If there’s one thing #MeToo has done for good, it has caused further cracks in the imaginary wall between “gays” and “straights”. This blog has constantly said that “homosexuality” is impacted by social and political pressures that also affect “straights”. Given the link between #MeToo and “homosexuality”, and how one affects the other, it’s now harder to pretend that “gays” and “straights” live in completely different worlds.

In conclusion, if you are a feminist, I hope that you think long and hard about what I’ve just said. Please don’t react in a knee jerk fashion to this post. Instead, I ask you to really meditate on my words. With everything that I’ve just described, is this a movement that you should blindly support?

For my readers in the United States, I have a special message for you. Don’t think that we are merely seeing a rebellion against sexual assault. We’re really seeing the seismic transformation of our sexual culture. It is now teetering on the verge of collapse, and what replaces it can be very bad or very good.

This movement has inadvertently continued what footballer Aaron Hernandez began, whose suicide made modern sexual philosophy begin to wobble. At this point, it’s highly doubtful that the sexual status quo will continue.

No matter how you identify, you have a dog in this fight. If you have found this site’s content educational and valuable, don’t keep quiet about it. There is no better time to speak than right now. Let people know that the Scriptures don’t condemn “homosexuality”. Publicly acknowledge that most people swing both ways. Educate your peers on history that reveals modern sexual philosophy as fraudulent.

Make no mistake - from what I can see, we are in the middle of another sexual revolution. Our sexual culture is on the verge of fundamental change, and the content of the discussion will determine what will supplant it. In this era of turmoil, the ones who participate will shape its outcome, which will affect us for years to come. Make sure that in this process, you make your voice heard.

Post-Scriptum (added on 1/22/2018)

I’ve just become aware of a third possible outcome for #MeToo - the utilization of sex robots. At this time, its possibility seems somewhat remote, but it still deserves mention.

As male-female sex becomes more fraught with tension, and same-sex contact remains taboo, sexually frustrated humans might turn to sex robots to fill their needs.

To me, this outcome is as horrendous as the first two. Sex is ultimately an expression of intense love and affection. Meanwhile, sex robots are simply manmade objects, not human beings. How can humans make love to objects that can’t reciprocate?

Thus, I believe that under this outcome, their use will likely have long-term detrimental effects. Sex robots may aggravate social isolation, at a time when social cohesion is already under threat. Sex will simply become a reflex detached from love, and not an extreme interpersonal experience. Humans may somewhat lose their ability to mix the sexual with the social, which might cause a decrease in population.

Furthermore, it would work to reinforce the “straight”-”gay” dichotomy, with all its concepts and ideas. Sex robots would remove the risks cursing extramarital opposite-sex contact, such as pregnancy, disease, emotional turmoil, etc. Furthermore, robots might also remove risks inherent in male-male anal sex, such as disease and physical injury.

I think though this is a rather distant option in the United States (at least for now), because

Sex robot technology is still in its infancy, and currently seems resistant to advancement

There’s still a strong social stigma against sex with robots. At present, it simply rubs most people the wrong way. That stigma may or may not last.

Feminists will likely oppose them. If men turn to sex robots en masse, that would undermine the power of women over sexual relations, which would be unacceptable for them

The third point highlights a possible consequence that would be interesting. Corporations and radical feminism, who are currently working together on #MeToo, may end up at each other’s throats if sex robots become popular.

Sex robots can command high prices, which would yield big profits for their manufacturers. If their demand increases, profits would only grow bigger. This might be a reason why corporations are supporting #MeToo - its encouragement of puritanism would create the perfect market for sex robots.

Thus, #MeToo might be yet another infusion of neoliberalism into our sexual dealings. It might further develop the relationship between neoliberalism and modern sexual philosophy.