#his soul was bought by the promise of wealth. power. and someone to love him.

[roboraindrop]

I am very much a Grima apologist nfjdkshdn

[lostandsearching]

Her Loss

Pairings: Maria Hill/Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is forever searching for her, the half of her soul that will free her form the pain in her heart. But what does she do when the roads fork into different paths and into different arms. How does she differentiate from true love and fleeting lust? Can she find the arms of her destined or will she simply doom herself and let them slip through her fingers.

Warnings: WandaVision elements used, swearing (maybe?)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Here’s chapter 3 and we’re following our favourite little witchy! Just a shout out to @theperfectlovestory​ for being so patient and reading through my chapters. If you ain’t read her work, you’re missing out! As always, reblogs and feedback are welcome. Enjoy :)

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Tossing and turning, she shifts around in bed uncomfortably. Having been able to sleep the night before, exhaustion catching up to her, she is faced with another restless night. Her sleeping has improved over the months. The nights she cried to sleep was no longer a regular occurrence but she still had her difficulties.

The bed was always too unfamiliarly empty no matter how much time had passed. There was no weight by her side causing a dip in the mattress, no strong arms wrapped around her waist encasing her protectively and no cool body to nestle herself against. Her empty bed serves as just another reminder of everything she’s lost. The fates had been cruel to her, delivering her time and time again into loving arms only to rip them away from her far too soon.

Having accepted that sleep will not welcome her tonight, she looked towards the wall clock on her right. ‘It’s only four but I guess I can enjoy the quiet and watch the sunrise for a little while’ muttering to herself. She clambers out of bed throwing on a large dark blue jumper, his jumper, and a pair of jeans careful not to make any noise and stir the children next door.

She loves Clint’s children dearly and wholeheartedly. They accepted her, a stranger, as family without hesitation or fear of her abilities. Little Nate went so far as running to her with the widest grin on his face to proudly proclaim that he’s also named after her brother. This only brought happy tears to her eyes as she engulfed him in a hug. Yes, she loved them dearly and she couldn’t be more grateful to the retired archer and Laura for opening their home to her but sometimes it was too much.

The happy shrieks of laughing children reverberating off the walls, the gentle and loving touches between Laura and Clint, the pure love and pride in Clint’s eyes as he took in his family at the dinner table would sometimes be unbearable for Wanda. This was supposed to be the life she had with him. A home, he had secretly bought for them, in a place called Westview with two children at least. They would have dinner together as a family, watch their children grow up like no time has passed at all, even go trick-or-treating wearing silly family costumes. Her life would have been filled with love, laughter and warm embraces but he was gone, taking her dreams along with him.

Wanda quickly threw on her slippers and crept as quietly as possible out of the farmhouse, trying to avoid rousing the slumber of the ever attentive Hawkeye. He may need hearing aids but Wanda would bet anything that he wore them to bed to avoid being taken by surprise. One misstep on a creaky floorboard would have him rushing out with bow and arrow in hand, ready to protect his family from any intruder, only for her to flounder a lame excuse at her sneaking around at an ungodly hour.

Lady luck was on her side it would seem and she escaped the confines of the home without incident. She is instantly greeted by a cool and gentle breeze caressing her skin. She sits on the steps of the home looking up at the clear night sky as the sun teeters on the horizon, teasing the darkness with a warm glow. She lets her mind wander back to over a year ago, to the events that unfolded after her return from the now dubbed Blip.

//

One moment she had Vision’s lifeless body cradled against her as she sobs, only to be suddenly greeted by a strange man calling her to arms, Vision’s body nowhere to be found.

“The fate of the world needs you to come with me now if we are to have any hope in defeating Thanos” and with that he opened a portal and passed through, Wanda nipping at his heels.

She thrust herself into the chaotic battlefield, remnants of the destroyed compound strewn about, with only one goal in mind. He took the love of her life, he took her life and he’s taken her home. Thanos has taken everything from her and now she’ll make him pay.

She flew in engaging Thanos, bombarding him with all the rage coursing through her veins. Angry, red wisps encase the tyrant threatening to rip him apart but as she was within a hair’s breadth away from finding her revenge, hell fire reigned from the skies knocking her off her feet. The battle for the gauntlet waged on being passed from Avenger to Avenger in hopes of getting it to some rickety van in the distance.

When all hope seemed to be lost, the gauntlet fixed around Thanos’s hand once again with an arrogant line about inevitability escaping his lips, their one and only chance arrived.

“Stark! Now!” a sound shouts commandingly before a woman encompassed in light crashes into the purple titan throwing him back. In the few moments after the order, Tony flew into action and disabled the gauntlet remotely allowing it to fall from Thanos’s hand and to wrap itself around the ready fist of Captain Marvel.

“Yeah, I don’t think so” she retorts with a head tilt and a cocky grin painted on her face. ‘Snap’ the battlefield is once again being covered in ash but it is Thanos’s army that is falling to dust with himself crumbling soon after. Being exposed to gamma radiation in space for years and receiving power from the space stone made her more resilient to the after effects of using the infinity stones. Painful as it was, she would recover.

Wanda on the other hand wasn’t sure she would recover herself. Not only had she lost Vision and her home, in what felt like a matter of fleeting moments, she lost the chance at avenging him by her own hands. ‘He’s gone, this will have to be good enough’ she finally relents to herself.

It was only after the battle had ended, when Bruce and Captain Marvel, she later learned, had been tended to that she found out the true price of  her, and the half the universe’s return. Natasha Romanoff had given her life in exchange for the soul stone, she gave her life so the world could be set right.

The icy cold Black Widow had held her at arms-length after Wanda had entered the older woman’s mind at Ultron’s behest. At the battle of Sokovia Wanda tried to remedy her mistake and prove herself but lost her first home and the life of her brother, Pietro, instead. Clint quickly took it upon himself to care for the young witch and urged Natasha to give Wanda a chance. He believed she already paid a heavy price for her mistake, she doesn’t need to be punished anymore.

With many gruelling training sessions under the watchful eye of the Black Widow, a tentative bond slowly grew, one of mentorship and then eventually friendship. Natasha grew to care for Wanda like a younger sister, although she would never out rightly admit of her fondness to the other Avengers. Wanda learnt to appreciate that the harshness delivered in Natasha’s training had served to keep Wanda alive, to give her the tools to protect herself from their dangerous job.

She had lost another loved one, Natasha on a planet and in a time she couldn’t reach, she needed to get one of them back. She approached the only man she knew that would have the unending finances to find Vision’s body. Although she still doesn’t trust Tony Stark, his hubris being the reason for her parents’ death and then his pride being the reason she was locked away in the Raft like an animal, she believed that his intentions were only ever good, even if his methods were questionable at best. He swore on his daughter’s life, much to the surprise of Wanda only having learnt of Morgan, that he would find Vision for her. She will try to trust him once more.

The compound needed to be rebuilt and Stark needed to build another time machine so that the stones could be returned to their original time, cutting off the branches, at least that’s what was explained to her.

//

It took no time at all, considering Stark’s wealth and that the world was also eternally grateful for the return of their loved ones, for the Avengers compound to be rebuilt. Surprisingly, especially to Stark, she continued to stay at the cabin whilst the new time machine was being built. She couldn’t possibly go back to the compound with both her love and her sister being gone.

“Please bring her back, I can’t lose anyone else. I don’t know what I’d do” she pleads with her arms around the super soldier. She pulls back from their embrace, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ll bring her back Wanda, whatever it takes” Steve promises with finality and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he steps into the portal.

Wanda stood there with bated breath, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. She squeezes herself tightly as if holding back a terrible force and its impending explosion from within, should Steve fail. It isn’t until Bruce speaks that she tempts fate by opening her eyes, fixed on the platform once more.

“5…4…3…2…1. Ha! It worked!” he yelps, fisting the air with joy.

Wanda couldn’t believe the sight in front of her, Steve kept his word. Forest green eyes land on hazel green ones. She wasn’t too sure what happened, one moment she was standing and the next moment, she was crumpled on the floor sobbing. She finally let the tears free fall, allowing the anguish, loss and small reprieve to wash over her. ‘She came back, someone came back’ a mantra repeating itself in her mind begging to be believed.

With all the agility and grace attributed to the Widow, Natasha leapt out of Steve’s arms to engulf the younger woman in hers. As is always in the Avengers’ lives, the joy of a win is forever marred with sorrow at the cost of gaining it.

The compound having already been built, Wanda finally returned with Natasha by her side. The Avengers home was no longer filled with mirth as it once was, trauma, loss and exhaustion hangs heavy in the air. Clint had chosen to stay at the compound temporarily, with his family, to spend time with Wanda and Natasha. Tony and Rhodey chose to retire, Captain Marvel had long since returned to space but promised to visit when she was in the galaxy, Thor chose to leave the Avengers to join The Guardians in space and Vision was gone.

It was a week after Natasha’s return, a week at the compound that Wanda finally got the call she so desperately needed.

“Hey witchy, how are you liking the new digs?” Tony jokes. Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes as anger began bubbling beneath the surface.

“I am not in the mood for your jokes Stark” her thick Sokovian accent slipping past the cracks of her control.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh before responding. “OK kid, this isn’t a social call. I promised I’d find him but I don’t think you’re gonna like what I’m about to tell you” he tries carefully.

Her eyes are consumed with whirls of red while her hand holds the phone in a vice-like grip. “Where is he Stark?” she says through gritted teeth.

“I tried to get his body released to me this morning, but they refused. I could spend every dime I have and liquidate all my assets, they still won’t let him go claiming that he is government property since he signed the Accords.” frustration clear in his voice.

“I will get the best lawyers on the case but it will take time be…”

“Where” she interrupts with a bite in her tone.

“S.W.O.R.D”

//

After the events of meeting Hayward and seeing what he had done to Vision, Wanda knew she had two choices. She opted for the latter. She called Natasha as soon as she left S.W.O.R.D’s offices making her way back to her car.

“Wanda, what’s going on? You ran…” Before she could finish her questioning, she is interrupted by Wanda’s broken voice.

“S.W.O.R.D have Vision’s body and they wouldn’t let me take him home to bury him. They’re tearing him apart like an OBJECT! He gave his LIFE and they won’t even let what’s left of him find PEACE!” her anger is replaced by breaking sobs wracking through her body, ending her ability to speak any further.

“Come home now. Clint and I will fix it” She commands calmly and confidently.

Just as Wanda was the female assassin’s younger sister, she was also the archer’s daughter. No-one messes with the two deadly assassins’ family and escapes unscathed.

True to the Widow name, Natasha seduced and hacked her way into S.W.O.R.D’s data server and extracted details on questionable S.W.O.R.D activities including Hayward’s isolated server with files and data on his less than legal proclivities.

Clint, being true to his ethos, was crawling through S.W.O.R.D ventilation shafts, planting well placed audio and visual recording devices, courtesy of Stark himself.

With all the pieces at hand, Natasha only needed the perfect person for the execution. Her love for Wanda saw her doing the unimaginable for the first time. She asked for help.

“Maria, I need you to do something for me. I need you to get Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. Clint and I have all the data you’ll need to make it happen” her steady voice not betraying the pounding in her heart.

“Why would I get on S.W.O.R.D’S radar exactly?” Maria responds emotionlessly. She would have done it without question of course, but she can’t let Natasha know that. After all, she has a reputation to maintain.

“Because I will owe you a favour” Natasha retorts through clenched teeth. A pregnant pause fills the air before Maria responds.

“Send me everything you have and give me 48 hours” without another word, Maria ends the call and Natasha releases a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Maria, always a woman of her word, saw to it that 48 hours later Vision’s body was being returned to Wanda at the compound under S.H.I.E.L.D escort. Wanda may not have given her lover the death that he asked of her nor the vengeance that he was owed, but she could give him the burial that he deserved and the farewell she needed.

All the Avengers, including Rhodey, Tony and Thor, returned one last time to pay their respects, to honour their fallen ally and friend. Wanda laid to rest the love of her life and yet another piece of her heart.

//

“You know, you still aren’t as quiet as Nat” he teases taking a seat on the step beside her. “Penny for your thoughts?” he gently prods.

“Thinking about him” Wanda whispers, still unable to say Vision’s name since the funeral. “Thinking about what you, Nat and even Tony have done for me since”

He turns to look at the young woman and sees not only pain in her eyes, but a steady determination that wasn’t there before. He keeps quiet, allowing her to gather her thoughts without interruption.

“I think…no, I know I’m ready to go home Clint” she says with growing confidence. She finally turns to face the archer. She sees time, suffering and loss etched on his aging face but those are all muted by the brightness in his blue-grey eyes full of love and pride.

Wanda has survived the loss of her parents, her brother, her first home and her lover. She’s tired of surviving and she is finally ready to go home to start living.

“I’ll tell Nat so she can get a jet ready and prepared for you” and with that, they spend the last few moments together, sitting in silence and basking in the warm glow of the sunrise full of hope and gentle promises. 

Chapter Four

[ficforce]

Death Part 2 HC

Leonard Burns

‘And when you told me what your favourite book was, I bought it and read it over and over… trying to find pieces of you in it.'

'Unknown’

- Burn’s knew something was wrong the second he saw Y/N waiting outside his office; their relationship was a secret to keep her safe. He invited her in like any other guest to see him and closed the door firmly behind them. Y/N burst into tears almost immediately and told him that she was dying. He was stunned and couldn’t speak at all.

- Unwilling to believe the news, Leonard accompanied her to better doctors and specialists, almost determined to prove the diagnosis wrong. After the third round of tests, he pulled Y/N close and held her tight - he promised he would stay by her side no matter what.

- Leonard Burns had prayed his whole life, every day without fail, but he had never once asked Sol for anything. He’d never prayed for health or strength, wealth or power - now he prayed that she would be spared, that she would be allowed to get better.

He had been able to protect her from physical harm all this time but now illness was ravishing her.

- As her body began to shut down and she was confined to bed, Leonard sat by her at all hours and ignored his duties… Though his Lieutenants were understanding of the situation.

- He read to her all of her favourite books.

The man carefully sat on her bed, moving her to rest against his chest so that she could feel the rumble of his chest whilst he spoke. He was so warm that Y/N always found sleeping easily.

Burns felt the moment her last breath left her but he continued to read to her, pretending for a moment that she had fallen asleep and refusing to believe otherwise until he had finished the book.

- Y/N’s funeral was held at the small Abbey in the countryside; the same place they were secretly married. He could still remember how pretty the crown of flowers the little Sisters had made for her was, bright happy flowers that complimented her eyes.

The flowers on top of the coffin were bright too… He just couldn’t see it with how dull the world was now.

- That night he didn’t pray

- Burns never showed his heartbreak to his Lieutenants and nor did he confide in anyone about the constant ache in his heart.

- One day he would be reunited with Y/N - until then he would miss her.

Sagamiya Konro

‘I am too tired and I miss you too much'

'Simone de Beauvoir’

- Konro never got a real chance to say goodbye.

- He didn’t get to hold her in his arms and tell her everything he thought she should know, it wasn’t a peaceful teary goodbye.

- She had kissed him before leaving the Guardhouse and reminded him that his bento was packed and ready. He hadn’t thought much of it, smiling at her and promising to see her at dinner. Konro knew she would be busy most of the day and he hoped she wouldn’t overdo it.

When the alarm sounded to mark an Infernal attack Konro had run out to start organising evacuations but found Benimaru frozen in the middle of the street. He hadn’t lit his matoi and the Captain looked helplessly as the poor soul who had combusted, ‘It’s Y/N… she… Konro, she’s…’

Konro didn’t want to believe it and the burning creature screaming in front of him couldn’t be his Y/N.

- Benimaru steeled himself as they watched Y/N scream and struggle not to lash out - seemingly unwilling to hurt anyone who might get too close. She was in pain and there was no way of saving her. A hand landed on his shoulder and Konro moved toward her, calling out her name and telling her it was okay.

The man didn’t make her suffer longer than she had to and as Y/N turned to ash he thought he heard her voice…

- His shoulders were bleeding through his clothes and he felt his legs go weak as the tephrosis burned inside him - nothing compared to the agony his heart was in. Konro refused treatment and retired to his room.

- He retreated into himself almost completely, barely noticing when the twins came to see him, they sobbed into his chest and told him that they missed her - that it wasn’t fair.

Benimaru got on his knees and bowed as far as the floor would allow him, he apologised until Konro grabbed him by the collar and shook him, the Lieutenant shouting that it wasn’t Benimaru’s fault before allowing himself to finally sob.

- No one had been able to celebrate her life the way they would usually and to make up for it they threw a festival in her memory; the fireworks were seen throughout the Tokyo Empire.

Konro sat in what had been their favourite place to watch fireworks and poured two cups of sake.

- He had always thought his disease would end up slowly killing him, instead, it was the wound dealt to his heart that would do it.

Joker/52

‘I promise I shall never give up, and that I’ll die yelling and laughing.'

'Jack Kerouac’

- Joker didn’t understand what they were telling him; Y/N had looked unwell for a little while and he had told them time and time again to take it easy. Now they were telling him they were dying? It had to be a bad joke, a prank… something other than what was being said.

- He had been an assassin and Joker knew that people died all the time, sometimes he was the reason they died. The man had never watched someone die so slowly before and never someone he loved with all his heart.

It had taken him so long to trust someone so completely and to let himself fall in love - now he had to lose them?

- The one thing he didn’t want was for Y/N to be sad and suffer, so he tried to make them laugh every day. Joker brought them their favourite food, he brought them gifts and let made sure they were well cared for.

There were some days that Y/N couldn’t breathe properly and they cried out in pain until Joker could get their medicine to dull the pain. Those days were hard but Joker refused to be sad in front of them.

- Y/N asked him to sing for them, the long-haired man was usually humming or making up little songs and Y/N had always found his voice soothing, ‘Sing me a song about us?’

Joker spent hours making up songs, ditties and tunes, they laughed about the old times and when Y/N began to cry and tell him that they weren’t ready to go, that they were scared - Joker held them tight and weaved a lie about how beautiful and peaceful the other side was.

He didn’t want them to be scared of Demons and fire of a barren wasteland.

- Licht found Joker cradling Y/N’s body; he didn’t know how long they had been there but Y/N was cold and Joker kept on humming their made-up songs.

- Joker behaved as he always had, he refused to attend the small funeral and grinned and laughed as he had always done. It was months after Y/N’s death that Benimaru witnessed the man talking to himself, asking questions and cracking jokes with someone that wasn’t there.

‘Sorry for your loss’

‘What loss?’ Joker had seemed confused and then gone back to humming, ‘Come on, Mr Strongest, I gotta get home before Y/N gets mad at me’

- It wasn’t healthy but it kept that small string of sanity he had left intact.

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

Previous|Current|Next 

You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile. 

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters. 

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader); 

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer. 

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round. 

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man. 

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul. 

You were people, not property. 

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more. 

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow. 

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely. 

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him. 

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands. 

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings. 

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go. 

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again. 

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.” 

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?” 

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.” 

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself. 

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask. 

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.” 

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad. 

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity. 

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.” 

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room. 

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response. 

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.” 

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.” 

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did? 

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask. 

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all. 

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly. 

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item. 

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe. 

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia. 

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again. 

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think. 

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other? 

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards. 

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority. 

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts. 

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides. 

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?” 

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.” 

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror. 

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized. 

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all. 

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted. 

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent. 

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on. 

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back. 

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless. 

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure. 

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.” 

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.” 

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness. 

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long. 

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck. 

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly. 

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long. 

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder. 

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?” 

[joonsdiary]

the proposal

↳ part one of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing. ceo!seokjin x hotelier!reader (female) genre. arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst (mayhaps future smut?) word count. 4,8k summary. after losing ownership of your hotel to the satan-spawned ceo-to-be, kim seokjin, you are forced by the powers that be (your parents) into marrying him. you agree under the assurance that you won’t be out of job, but with the title of manager instead of owner. as it turns out, he has other plans and approaches you with a proposal that’s hard to refuse.

note. a cliché, overused trope? check. a series with (maybe) no plot and is just about jin as a billionaire ceo? check. this was initially supposed to be a sequel, but i couldn’t follow it up with the same ambience and mood, so i decided to leave the drabble [as a standalone] and write a spin-off instead. this has been in my drafts for the longest time, so i’m excited to share to you a series that literally nobody asked for.

warning-but-not-really. not all corporate ceos are as chilled out as jin will be portrayed here. may give you high expectations of literally some of the worst people on this planet lmao also purely self-indulgent! read at your own risk tbh

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

The premise was simple.

Get married so you can keep running your hotel business or refuse and lose everything to the man your parents have personally hand-picked to become the owner.

Scratch that.

The man your parents sold your hotel to, thus making him the newly appointed owner.

Choosing the latter and having your freedom would mean giving up your hard-earned company to the lousy billionaire’s first-born son, who happened to own half the hotels in metropolitan Seoul.

The Kims.

Notorious for their enormous amount of wealth, their class, and having three strapping young men for sons who knew nothing else, but privilege handed to them in a silver platter.

Despite growing up in a well-off family, you’ve always taught yourself that independence and hard work was the key to success. You distanced yourself as much as you could from your parents’ money, stuck it out for four years in college, and graduated with a degree. Running the hotel full time while attempting to finish your master’s in business administration part-time had been the theme for the past year. Until your parents dropped the bomb on you.

Words like, do you really think you had full ownership of that run-down hotel of yours and we had to sell, or we’ll go under had been thrown around. As if keeping the secret of having a huge amount of debt would make you feel better about seeing your hotel assimilated into Kim Hotels. Not only would you lose ownership, but you knew that you were bound to get fired, if not demoted. It usually came with the change of proprietor.

Conveniently enough, the Kims had other plans. Their current CEO, Seokjin’s father, agreed to let you keep working as the hotel manager instead of the owner, which is honestly miles better to you than being jobless. But it came with a hefty price: you were to marry their oldest son, Kim Seokjin. They drove a hard bargain, and you found yourself agreeing. You loved the hotel more than anything you’ve ever owned; having to pour your heart and soul into making it worth being proud of. And you were. That’s why hearing your parents say that it was in debt felt gut wrenching.

Initially, you tried to get a hold of him, hoping you could convince him to re-think the situation. You thought perhaps the media had been wrong about him, and all the talks of him being a calculating corporate shark was a lie. Maybe he would let you work as the manager without having to marry him. But the COO of Kim Hotels refused to meet with you, despite hearing from your parents that he’d been “more than willing” to be married to you.

You scoffed at their baseless statement. Seokjin had a reputation for taking women to bed one night before leaving them to dust by the next morning. As if selling his soul to the devil in order to be worth billions of dollars wasn’t enough; of course, he was sleeping around as well. You weren’t one to judge anybody’s lifestyle choices, but you were sure that someone in that calibre wouldn’t agree to be wed to a person they hardly knew just because. There was something in your gut that told you there was more to the agreement than a simple arranged marriage.

Or maybe the feeling in your gut was due to the bad pasta you had.

“Good evening, Ms. Hwang.”

You’re greeted by Mr. Park, the doorman as soon as you enter the lobby, cradling a piping hot tea you hoped would alleviate the stomach cramps you were having. His smile gave away his old age, wrinkles dotting the corner of his eyes and the lines in his cheeks. You returned the gesture.

“How was your dinner?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you laughed softly, shrugging away your coat without spilling your drink. “I’m never eating out ever again. Please tell me Yoongi is in.”

He nodded, gesturing to the entrance not too far from the lobby. You bid him good night and head to the restaurant in the hotel, which was sparse with customers. Friday nights were usually teeming with life and excitement, but unfortunately business had been relatively slow all week. The worry pooled deep in your stomach – as if you needed any more ratification that your hotel needed to be bought, or you’ll close down.

“Yoongi! I need your cure-all soup,” you called out as soon as you sat on the barstool, propping your tote on the table. Jungkook waved at you from the far end of the bar, concocting a drink for the eager gentleman waiting in front of him. Yoongi popped his head out from the kitchen’s double doors to scowl at you but was met with your beaming smile.

He returned several minutes later with your request and you quietly thank him.

“Bad date?” he asked, wiping his palms over his well-worn apron. Jungkook had inched closer by this time, mindlessly wiping the area beside you.

You nodded. “And terrible food. I should’ve just asked him to take me here to Grigio instead.”

Yoongi raised his brows, but a grin was threatening to burst from his lips. “Why didn’t you?”

“He insisted on going to that posh new restaurant that just opened last week. Said it took months to book and he couldn’t just cancel on a whim,” you rolled your eyes, carefully blowing cold air into your steaming soup.

“This is why I told you to stop looking around,” Yoongi leaned into the counter, studying your expression.

“It’s cuffing season,” you joked. “Blame social norms for my behaviour.”

He gave you an impassive stare, before sighing. “You’re literally cuffed already.” He said, followed by a quiet, “I still can’t believe you’re getting married soon.”

You waved your right hand nonchalantly before lifting the spoon to your lips. You moaned as soon as the flavour filled your senses.

“Did you know you’re the best chef ever?”

“It’s just chicken noodle soup,” he said drily.

“Exactly! The simplest meal yet you manage to bring out so many spices at once.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt to boost his ego. Either way it was true; for you, nothing beat Yoongi’s cooking, no matter how simple he thought the meal was.

You forgo the tea and asked Jungkook for a bottle of white wine. “Nothing fancy — Les Capriades is fine. I heard they came in last month, and I have yet to try them.”

He nodded at your instructions before disappearing off to the back to find your drink.

“Stop avoiding the topic, Y/N,” Yoongi rested his chin in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” you stated confidently, yet you couldn’t meet his gaze. “The devil incarnate himself refuses to see me. I guess I’ll have to meet him at the altar.”

“Three weeks from now,” Yoongi said, almost exasperated.

“Until then, I’ll enjoy my freedom.”

“What freedom?” Yoongi scoffed, rounding the table to slide into the seat next to you. Jungkook returned with your promised bottle and your eyes beamed with excitement before quietly thanking him. “You didn’t even date around before any of this marriage circus happened.”

You agreed with the “circus” part and ignored the indirect jab. Besides not having a say in any of the planning for your wedding, your supposed fiancé refused to introduce himself when you tried to reach out multiple times.

Okay, perhaps it wasn’t multiple times. You called his office when your parents broke the news to you a week ago, but his assistant said he was busy with a meeting and that you should call back. You didn’t, and that was the end of it. You’ve been putting off trying again, but it’s been a week and he hasn’t contacted you back either.

Maybe it was mutual disdain; if one of you was testing the other to break, you didn’t want the first to be you. It already felt undignified to be marrying someone for the sake of keeping a semblance of ownership to your hotel, so you weren’t about to grovel and demand to be spoken to when it seemed like he wasn’t willing to spare you a second of his time.

Yoongi chatted for a bit before he had to go back to work, so you were left to pull out your laptop from your tote. For the next few hours you immersed yourself into finances, staring at the excel spreadsheet displayed on the screen far longer than was medically allowed. Surely, you’ll go blind before you see your hotel overcome the negative deficit you were in.

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Hwang,” Jungkook thrummed his fingers on the table as he passed by. You looked up in time to see him mime something unintelligible. Your brows raised in confusion.

“Your glasses,” he laughed quietly, fingers hovering close to your cheek. You mumbled a quiet oh, before pushing the rim higher until it settled snugly against your nose bridge.

“Thanks.” You sighed, tipping your head to one side. After feeling the satisfying pop! you turned back to Jungkook with a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You slumped back to your work as soon as Jungkook was out of sight. Glancing at the clock on the corner of your laptop, it blinked 00:37, which automatically caused you to yawn. Yoongi should be out soon, so you willed yourself to stand up and prop the close sign by the entrance.

From where you stood, you could see the lobby clearly, as well as the spinning doors of the hotel entrance. A few patrons trickled in, no doubt coming in from their busy day, and filed sluggishly to the elevators where it would take them up their floors.

That was the most fulfilling part of being a hotelier to you. The satisfaction of giving people a comfortable stay, whether they were mere tourists or locals wanting a getaway from their normal life. It certainly isn’t as posh and sleek as the Kim Hotel with their towering glass buildings and boring black, white, and grey colour palettes. But what you had was something you were proud to consider your home, with the vibrant earth tones of the walls and furniture, as well as the rich velvet tapestry draped along the ornate windows. High ceiling chandeliers peppered the lobby, casting an ambience of warmth and security without lacking luxury.

“‘Night, Y/N.” Yoongi clasped your shoulder, startling you out of your mini daydream. “Stop using my restaurant as your office, will you?”

You mustered a small grin. “Bye, Yoongles. Drive safe.”

Yoongi turned to you as his face contorted violently. “I hate that nickname.”

“Love you too!” You called out as he exited through the revolving door before placing your hand down with a sigh. Back to work. You were about to turn and go back to your forgotten laptop when the door welcomed in another guest.

With bated breath you watched the man stalk towards you, eyeing you dangerously as if you were his prey. His midnight black suit made him look slim but highlighted his broad shoulders all the same. You were arrested at the spot, unable to look away and felt as if you’ve been robbed of oxygen. The more he stepped closer, the more unclear your thoughts became.

It’s not as if you hadn’t seen the man. He often appeared on several business magazines — gossip tabloids more so. Yet there was something different about seeing him in person, in front of you, in your hotel.

No. His hotel.

“Ms. Hwang. I was hoping to find you here.”

You blinked up at him, not trusting your voice to form words under such immense pressure. His usually slicked back ebony hair is more mussed; a day’s worth of stress was evident in his restless feature.

When you didn’t reply, he took it upon himself to study you from head to toe, and your body went rigid. Your long, honey-coloured hair had been tied up in a lazy bun and glasses framed your face. You didn’t bother changing out of your mini black dress from your date earlier, whose thin straps clung onto your shoulders for dear life.

You squirmed uncomfortably, finding a small ounce of strength to wrap your hands protectively around yourself. “What are you doing here, Mr. Kim?”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes, supple lips bending upwards for a grin. “Call me Seokjin. Mr. Kim is my father.”

And with that, he welcomed himself in the threshold of your restaurant.

Technically, it’s his restaurant now, too.

You let your anger simmer for a bit before turning to follow him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you declared. It was hard to keep your annoyance down when he had showed up unannounced after ignoring your existence for a whole week.

He slid next to the seat you had claimed yours, and you almost tripped in your heels as you followed, immediately snapping your laptop shut. There was no new information he could have garnered from looking at the finances of the hotel, as he’s probably aware of them. But the thought of him snooping around made you feel queasy.

“I wanted to see what had my father so enamoured that he’d actually buy this…” he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “…hotel?”

You hated the underlying judgement in his tone of voice. You had also heard rumours that he’s unabashedly forward and hard to deal with, on top of all the other rumours that plagued him. So far, all the boxes in the checklist were proving to be true.

“It’s quaint. Not at all what I expected.” His gaze studied you momentarily, and you can tell he wanted to say more but he smartly held himself back. Good. You don’t know what you would do if he strung one criticism after another.

“Well, you’ve seen it. You can kindly screw off now.”

Seokjin seemed taken aback for a second, but his surprise didn’t linger. He leaned back on the stool and swiveled forward before pointing at the shelves lined with alcohol.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

In an attempt to ignore his ridiculous demand, you powered up your laptop once more. No way in hell would you let him step all over you, not even when he owned the hotel where you now stood. “You have very capable legs and arms. I’m sure you can whip one up yourself.”

Was this man joking? Granted, you know your way behind the bar since you had the privilege to work as a bartender for a few years during your college tenure. But that doesn’t mean he’s welcomed here to treat you as if you were a subservient of his. Which, semantics aside, you were, though that’s beside the point. But if he made an effort to come down here and order you around like a scullery maid in an attempt to intimidate you or put you in your place, then he was barking up the wrong tree.

“I was told you have terrific hospitality. I guess they were mistaken.”

Not for the likes of you, I don’t. You rolled your eyes, not bothering with an actual reply.

Seokjin maneuvered off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his cufflinks before he rolled his sleeves up meticulously. He then rounded the bar and began grabbing materials with familiarity, not stopping to ask where anything was located. You watched in awe from the corner of your eyes, attempting to be discreet.

“Want one?” he gave you a slanted gaze.

You wrinkled your nose in disagreement and raised your wine glass.

“A refill, then?”

Pressing your lips firmly together, you gave him a defiant headshake.

The mild shock of seeing him traipsing behind the bar had rendered you absolutely mute. The fact that he knew where everything was piqued your interest. Was it an outcome of years of experience as a habitual drinker? Or did he often just randomly raid bars, hence his extensive knowledge of their layout? You didn’t want to know, but at the same time you did.

It took him a while to find a coaster before settling back to the spot beside you. Typing away at your laptop, you refused to give him even an ounce of attention despite his attention solely being yours. The silence that ensued was more uncomfortable than anything you’ve experienced.

Suddenly, you were all too aware of your crooked posture and your body snapped, straightening your shoulders rigidly. It felt stupid, but necessary for the sake of your sanity to keep your façade. Although it crumbled ever so slightly when Seokjin laughed beside you.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel tense,” his voice was languid and inviting.

You steeled yourself, refusing to be lulled into a trance by his intoxicating presence. “What did you really come here for, Kim Seokjin?”

“She speaks!” he exclaimed, clearly amused. You turned to give him an impassive stare. “Do I need a reason to visit my fiancée?”

His statement caught you by surprise, your poor heart bearing the brunt of suddenly having to pump more oxygen than usual. It brought warmth to your cheeks and you allowed yourself to fall into the fantasy of marrying the most eligible bachelor in all of Seoul. The fantasy, however, was short-lived as his wink broke the spell you were under.

“Don’t worry, this will be strictly business,” his back straightened up on cue. You tried and subsequently failed not to watch the way his deft fingers moved to loosen up his necktie. He then slightly deflated with a sigh, before grabbing his drink and taking a sip.

For courage, perhaps? It brought a small amount of accomplishment to know that you might have The Kim Seokjin nervous before you.

“It’s about the wedding, which you know is coming up soon.”

This was it. The topic you’ve been narrowly avoiding for the past week suddenly poured on you all at once like a bucket of ice-cold water. It wasn’t the most refreshing way of waking you up to reality, but it got the job done.

“I hope you aren’t getting cold feet now, Kim,” he grins at your attempt at humour.

“I apologize for not getting back to you sooner, by the way. My secretary said you tried to get a hold of me.” You remembered the woman’s monotone voice on the other end of the phone call. Part of the reason why you were reluctant to call back was due to nervousness from hearing her apathetic voice.

You shrugged in response, finding him less of an asshole than you had previously. Was your expectation of decency so low that you found anything remotely human he did to be an act of chivalry on his part?

Yes. Yes, it was.

“I tried calling because I wanted to know if I would be able to talk you out of this deal.”

Seokjin was visibly surprised by your candor.

“Oh yeah, and how would that have played out?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Surely, it was too late to take anything back, so you tossed all caution out of the window. He might as well hear your piece.

“The ceremony preferably cancelled. The Hwang Hotel back to its rightful owner, as if the whole thing hadn’t occurred in the first place.”

Seokjin regarded you with amusement in his eyes. The warm lights of the Grigio soften his rugged features, making it seem like he was glowing. You came to understand how he had the whole country enamoured by him. He was distressingly handsome.

You gagged at where your thoughts ended up and leaned back a little, terrified of feeling too intimate with the man who had claimed your hard-earned success for himself. The hotel means more to you in ways you know Seokjin will never be able to relate. A man who, with a little twirl of his fingers, would be making more money than you could ever hope to imagine. They say no hard work goes unpaid, but for him it was probably akin to: No hard work, but I get paid either way. How comfortable must it be to sit atop that domineering tower of his, overlooking the city he practically owns?

“And what do I get out of that possible scenario?” he began after a brief pause.

You refused to wilt under his imposing gaze. With a confident voice, you said, “The satisfaction of doing a noble deed.”

He barked out a laugh, tilting his head back in obvious enjoyment. You didn’t share the sentiment as you sighed before removing your prescription glasses. Perhaps hoping for the impossible was futile, after all.

“Look, I don’t care about this little passion project of yours,” Seokjin waved his hands around condescendingly, and you felt a familiar pang of anger surging from your chest. “And you’re lucky my father swooped in to purchase this hotel before you went bankrupt.”

“Thank you for the constant reminder,” you deadpanned, but he ignored you and continued. The gall of the man to show up and ridicule you made you irate. I take that back, he’s still an asshole in every aspect imaginable.

“To be frank, I think we’re both in a pinch here. You want your hotel back, and I’m willing to grant you that tiny little wish.”

You perked up; interest piqued. But you felt an ultimatum coming, so you squashed all hope arising from his statement. There was always a catch.

“My parents have been grooming me to become CEO ever since I learned how to walk. For me, acquiring the position is a no-brainer.”

“But?” you offered, and his grin widened.

“But lately my father refuses to hand me the reins. He’s been wanting to retire, but every year he keeps sticking it out. Then I unceremoniously learned my engagement with you. All of a sudden, his mood shifted, and his plans for retirement began piling up.”

Your brows creased in confusion, unable to see how you fit into all of this.

“My reputation precedes me, so I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m insinuating here.”

Something clicks in your mind, and you willed yourself to hold back a scoff.

“Enlighten me, Kim,” you propped your chin against your palm. If you were going to agree to this, you might as well have a little fun for yourself.

“My parents aren’t amused by my…” Seokjin trailed off.

“Decision to debauch half the women’s population of Seoul?” you offered, unable to hold yourself back. You grinned triumphantly; he had set himself up for that moral beating.

“I was going to say my inability to settle down, but sure, we’ll go with that,” Seokjin was unfazed, much to your disappointment. “He hadn’t explicitly said it but seeing the way everything is being handled so quickly, I can tell it’s what he wants. For me to get married; then maybe he’ll consider giving me the position.”

“And you didn’t oppose?” you asked incredulously. It seemed at the moment you were the one who is prepped to lose the most. What if it wasn’t you who the Kims chose for their son? Were you supposed to just accept defeat and give up your hotel?

“Oh, trust me, I vehemently opposed,” you nodded at his statement. At least you agreed on something. That was a start. “But that’s partly the reason why I’m here.”

“What more can we possibly do? We’re basically left with no option,” you grumbled, turning back to your laptop. For you, there was no way around this. Both your families have decided for you, so you have to either fall in line or risk losing your business.

“What if I tell you we can go back to our normal lives a few months from now? We won’t be married to each other. You’ll have your hotel back, and I’ll still be the CEO.”

You inadvertently leaned towards him, eager to know where the conversation was going.

“We just have to convince my parents and yours, as well as the board of directors of Kim Hotels and the public alike how we’re hopelessly in love with each other.”

Your mouth formed into a visible scowl, forehead creasing in confusion. You searched for hints of frivolity, waiting for him to say just kidding! at any moment. But his stoic face told you that he was being serious.

“And we’re doing this because…?” your patience had worn thin, expression marred by weariness and fatigue. You had a lot to get back to; you didn’t have time for silly games.

“It will make the divorce more believable.”

You paused, the gears in your brain turning. The agreement your parents told you about hadn’t involved a divorce; so, you were curious as to where Seokjin was going with his idea.

He was offering you an out; a way to get out of his family’s mess unscathed. You’ll have your only prized possession, and he can go back to sleeping with as many people as he wanted while retaining his coveted position. The proposition was too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” your lips pursed, and you found yourself considering his ludicrous proposal.

“No catch,” he holds his two hands up in surrender, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. You eyed him with suspicion.

“Just that you give effort into this whole thing. Make my father and the board believe enough to think I’ve ‘cleaned up my act’,” he paused to roll his eyes, “so that they’ll hand me the position without question. I promise you full ownership of the Hwang Hotel, without debt, as soon as we separate.”

While your parents’ original plan had been to marry you off entirely (which you did not want at all) Seokjin was sensible enough to figure out that you had no desires of tying the knot to someone you barely knew. He probably shared the sentiment, hence his proposal.

“This doesn’t make sense though,” you said pointedly. “Wouldn’t they find out about your motives when we divorce? And our parents technically arranged this, so they’ll be mad — I’m sure yours will be more than mine.”

You’re all in for finding a loophole in this whole arrangement, but you’re not sure you’ll agree if it will give you more problems in the long run.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “They can question it all they want. But like I said, if we make it believable enough, we can always reason that we ‘fell out of love’.”

In an attempt to alleviate a developing headache, your hands slowly massaged your temples. The information was a lot to hand, but no matter how many scenarios you played in your head, they all seemed to have the finale you wanted. Regardless of what happened within the upcoming months, you were going to get your hotel back.

“If you’re really that worried, let’s just say I cheated,” Seokjin’s words snapped you out of your muddled thoughts.

Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Wouldn’t that be worse for you?”

“The public already thinks I’m a man-whore,” he said wryly. “The board is not going to kick me out of office for something tedious like a divorce once I’m CEO. And I’m sure I can reason it out with my parents when the time comes.”

You laced your fingers together, hoping to wring the concerns away. There was no use in overthinking the situation; it certainly beats staying miserably married to someone you barely know.

You let out a shaky breath, before mustering the confidence to say, “Fine.”

“Great, I knew you’d be reasonable.” He flicked his wrist to look at his watch, gaze composed despite the tiredness in his eyes. “I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a written agreement.”

“Great,” you mimicked his deadpan tone. Gone was the casual Seokjin who paced around behind the bar with much familiarity. This was the COO of Kim Hotels Seokjin; precise and straight to the point.

Better get used to that.

“Thanks for the drink, future wife,” he slid off the barstool with poise, the distance between you and him closing ever so slightly. He smelled like pine and cedar, with a hint of citrus; it was enough for you to suddenly sober up, unaware you were inebriated, to begin with.

“No need. You forced your way in, anyway.” You said dismissively, pretending to switch tabs on your screen. Where was that random website you were looking at earlier?

With a quiet laugh, he turned to leave. You listened to his rhythmic steps and perked up when he paused.

“See you tomorrow, fiancée,” he said without turning.

“Tomorrow?” you tried not to give away the surprise in your voice.

“We have to start going on dates to convince them that we’re serious about this, right? Pick you up at eight, sharp.”

With a wave of his right hand, he stalked off towards the exit, leaving you alone in the restaurant.

Suddenly, the premise didn’t appear so simple. You reached for your glass of wine and finished the rest of your courage drink in one gulp.

NEXT ; 

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated ;u;

[vampiregirl1797]

Desiderium

For My Masterlist, Click Here

 GIF not mine.

 Minor smut, 18+ only.

 Soulmates had always been somewhat of a fairytale when I was a little girl. I used to snuggle underneath my pale blue comforter that was decorated with daises—it had been something my father had made when my mother told him she was pregnant with me— being snuggled up underneath it when my mother used to narrate how she discovered my father was her soulmate always made the story that much more magical to me. Why? Because your soulmates first words to you would be imprinted onto your skin, almost like a tattoo, but apparently much more painful. Because the words weren’t just engrained onto your skin, but burned onto your soul.

 The first thing my father said to my mother was ‘What’cha doin’ down there darlin’?’ because she had been kneeling at the edge of the grass on her parent’s property, staring longingly at the field that stretched out somewhat endlessly towards the horizon. Daisies blossomed out across the field along with wildflowers. She longed to climb the fence that separated her from the only sight in her life that bought her some semblance of peace, and away from the societal expectations her mother and father were placing on her shoulders. Marrying well, having children, being the perfect wife. Her parents weren’t even soulmates. They had married for prestige and wealth over true love. My mother hadn’t wanted that, but alas they refused to listen. She sighed in response to his question and said, ‘watching the daisies sway with the breeze.’ After a beat, both of them were screaming in pain as the words appeared; my mothers on her chest over her heart, and my fathers along his inner arm, starting at his wrist and falling just short of his inner elbow. They had ran away the next day, and lived happily ever after.

At least that’s how my mother told it to the child version of me. I was absolutely fascinated by the concept of the universe creating someone who was completely perfect for you in every sense of the word. Perhaps my interest was aided by having parents who were soulmates, some of the kids in my classes at school didn’t, and therefore didn’t see what I saw. I couldn’t dispute that you didn’t have to be soulmates to love someone. But young me saw the way my mother and father looked at each other, how they shared a myriad of looks, ranging from soft, to sad, to angry. How they seemed to know what the other needed without a word needing to be said. How they seemed to only be completely content when they were touching in someway, whether it was holding hands or cuddling together. It was a kind of love I didn’t see anywhere else, and I hadn’t seen except in other soulmates throughout my life. Even before knowing a couple, you could tell by observing their behaviour, whether they were destined or not. Some were content to never meet their soulmate, while others longed desperately to find their other half.  

 But as I grew and lost my parents to a house fire at the age of eleven, my desire and hope started to fade. How could I long for love when I knew how much it hurt when you lost them? Growing up in the foster care system made it easy to keep people at arms length, including the families I was placed with. At least until I turned seventeen and Gerard, one of the foster parents in the new family I’d been paired with, had hit his wife. I hadn’t even thought, moving faster than I thought I ever could, I put myself between them. And when I’d held my hand up somewhat defensively, he’d gone flying into the wall behind him, the force enough to knock him out cold. I had stared at my hand in confusion and when Amy, the woman I’d been about to take a punch for had practically shoved my out of the door while screaming that ‘freaks weren’t allowed in this house’, a sense of dread ran through my veins.

 Freak.

 I was a freak.

 It was then that my desire for a soulmate dissipated completely, and over time my insecurities extended to everything. My body. My laugh. My intelligence. Everything. I grew to hate myself, and I knew that if I couldn’t love me, how could I expect someone else to love me? Even someone who was supposedly destined to be with me would see all of the flaws that I did. It was hopeless.

 What I didn’t know was that not only would my life change for the better in the following years, but also I would be introduced to my soulmate whether I wanted to be or not. Fate was funny that way.

 Five years later.

 ‘Good morning sunshine!’ Steve Rogers practically yelled at me as I shuffled into the kitchen.

 I simply groaned in response, my footsteps towards the coffee maker becoming more insistent when I caught a waft of the java goodness. I pulled out my own personal mug—it was absolutely ginormous and covered in cartoon Captain Americas wearing the old uniform Steve had worn before the ice. Tony had given it to me for a gag gift a few years ago at Christmas and I’d laughed harder than I had in a long time when I opened it. That had made Steve’s embarrassment cool somewhat, and I think that was why the mug hadn’t ended up ‘accidentally’ smashed afterwards. That being said, big, blonde and broody always, very dramatically, rolled his eyes when he saw it and it always made me chuckle and wink at him as I sipped my hot beautiful beverage.

 After I’d poured the mug as close to the rim as I dared, I added three sugars and practically inhaled half before finally taking a look around to see who else was up. The tower had become home to me when Tony had bought me here just after I’d turned eighteen. I’d been on the streets for almost a year at that point, and after I’d intercepted someone trying to fire a bomb at Iron man by using my magic, and redirecting it to the one who’d fired it, I’d been dubbed an unofficial avenger. The snarky genius had taken me under his wing, he hadn’t pushed me for anything, for company, for information, he hadn’t put pressure on me to use my powers for his team. He’d simply been there, even when I didn’t know I needed him. Eventually, I’d warmed up to him and started to trust him with stories of my parents, about what happened to them, about the foster families and eventually, how I’d ended up homeless. His eyes had darkened with rage at that story and he’d scooped me up into a hug and assured me that I wasn’t a freak, that I was special and that was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I’d basically collapsed into his arms after that, my tears cascading down my cheeks after being held back so long by the numbing dam that Tony had managed to shatter.

 It still took me a while to warm up to new people, and my insecurities were still there concerning soulmates, but I had a home and a family now. Which was more than I ever could have asked for after losing my parents all those years ago.

 ‘Morning kiddo!’ Tony grinned and gave a little wave from where he was, which was currently on Steve’s lap as the super soldier gently ran his fingers through my dad’s hair.

 That was another thing—I didn’t know when Tony had started to become dad to me, but he had. I hadn’t said it to him yet, mainly because I didn’t know how he would react, I didn’t want him to feel like I was forcing a responsibility onto him that he didn’t want or ask for. So I kept it to myself.

 ‘Morning,’ I smiled, my mood much brighter after I’d basically inhaled half of my cup.

 My eyes filtered over to the only other person who was up at this time and a huge grin split across my face when I realised whom it was. My cup was placed aside and I ran and basically launched myself onto the sofa where the giant god of thunder was sitting. He’d become an uncle to me over the years, and when he returned from Asgard it never failed to make me happy.

 ‘Thor! When did you get here?’ I yelled in excitement, my arms winding around his neck as I hugged him hard. It had to have been six months since I saw him last.

 ‘Not too long ago, little one.’ Thor chuckled, settling me onto his lap and affectionately running his hand through my hair.

 ‘I hope you’re staying longer this time.’ I gave him a look because the last time he’d dropped in, he’d only stayed for a few days.

 ‘I will be here for at least a week.’ He promised.

 Appeased by his words I dropped my head to his shoulder and closed my eyes and took a moment to inhale his scent of rain and power (which shouldn’t be a kind of smell, but if anyone was going to smell of power it was going to be a god), and sighed happily as it soothed the part of me that always acted up whenever someone I cared about was gone. It was like a thread around my heart that burned enough to be uncomfortable, but not painful. My mother and father’s thread always burned, but that was okay. It reminded me how lucky I had been to have them in my life; there were many who couldn’t say the same.

 Now that Thor and I were silent across from my Dad and Steve, I found myself smiling again when their conversation drifted over to us.

 ‘I told ya.’ Steve sounded smug.

 ‘Well if Thor hadn’t been here, I’m sure she would have come to us for morning snuggles like usual. She hadn’t seen him in like six months, it makes sense.’ Dad snarked back, and when I glanced over I could see him handing Steve a crumpled note.

 I chuckled, but otherwise didn’t comment, knowing their relationship was unique in the way only soulmates could be, and it worked for them. It was obvious how much they loved and adored one another, the same way my parents had. Thor’s hand moved gently up and down my spine and I was helpless to stop my eyes from fluttering shut, as I drifted into a content sleep.

 //

 ‘Shh you’ll wake her!’

 ‘It’s not fair! We’ve all missed good ole’ thunder too! We shouldn’t have to forgo cuddles just because she fell asleep on him!’

 ‘Don’t be such a child, you know how she gets when one of us are away.’

 The voice softened, ‘right. Sometimes I forget.’

 I stirred, blinking against the light that was filtering in through the floor to ceiling windows that outlined the living room. I was a little disorientated, but I settled when I remembered I was with Thor, a glance over to the loveseat told me that my dad and Steve must have left at some point. And when I focused I realised Clint and Tasha were the ones arguing not too quietly in the kitchen. With a fond shake of my head I carefully manoeuvred myself off the god’s lap and used my powers to lay him down so he would be more comfortable. If he’d only landed this morning then he would need a lot more sleep. After placing a blanket over him and making sure his head was supported with a pillow, I kissed his forehead and walked up to the deadly red head and sassy Hawkeye.

 ‘Is it still morning?’ I asked sheepishly.

 ‘Yes, honey. It’s about ten thirty.’ Tasha smiled warmly, like she always did when she greeted me.

 I nodded through a yawn and kissed her cheek and Clint’s before asking, ‘where’s Tony?’

 ‘Down in the lab. Steve went out for a run with Sam so he thought he’d tinker on the birthday present he got for him.’ Tasha grinned, her eyes sparkling knowingly.

 ‘Okay.’ I frowned, knowing that probably meant it was something sexual which I absolutely did not need to know about.

 After I refilled my coffee mug with some fresh warm java, I left the two spies with a parting kiss to the cheek and a promise to Tasha to meet her in the gym for some sparring at noon.

 ‘JARVIS can you let Tony know I’m coming down to the lab please? Tasha’s look upstairs tells me that I don’t wanna know what he’s doing down there for Steve, so I’d like for him to have some time to put away what ever he’s making for sexy times with his husband.’ I practically shuddered at the thought. Just thinking of your parents ever having sense was just… wrong.

 ‘Of course Y/N.’

 ‘Thank you, JARVIS.’ I smiled, knowing the Al couldn’t see me but I had a soft spot for the computer nonetheless.

 By the time I’d made it downstairs, Dad was hunched over and tinkering with something that just looked like a bunch of metal to me, so I felt safe going in and taking the empty stool next to him.

 ‘Morning.’ I mumbled kissing his cheek and wrapping my arm around his waist, ‘whatcha working on?’

 He kissed my cheek and dropped what he’d been working on, before twisting his stool so he could wrap both arms around me. I smiled a little and placed my mug down before reciprocating the gesture.

 ‘Nothing really, Sherbet.’ He replied softly, the nickname one I’d acquired after an embarrassing incident on the first Halloween I’d spent at the tower. I frowned when dad sighed deeply, something he only did when he was really upset about something. Usually it happened when Steve and he had fought. But things had seemed fine earlier, and I know Tasha would have mentioned an argument to me.

 ‘What’s wrong?’

 ‘Steve’s gotta leave for a little while.’ He sighed again but pulled back and started tinkering with whatever the hell he was making.

 ‘On a mission?’

 ‘No. You know how we’ve been working on bringing his friend Bucky home after Steve saw him a few months ago?’ I nodded and he continued, ‘well the software I created has picked him up in Russia, so Stevie is gonna go and get him and bring him home.’

 ‘You’re allowed not to be okay with that, you know.’ I took one of his hands in mine and squeezed it comfortingly, ‘I mean, I know you understand that he’s been reconditioned and controlled for so long and he had no idea what he was doing, or no choice in the things he did, but that doesn’t mean you have to be okay with him just coming to live here considering everything.’

 ‘I know I don’t have to be, but I am.’ He smiled, his eyes softening at my concern for him, ‘I’m a little upset over knowing that he killed my mom and dad, instead of believing they died in a car crash like I’d originally believed for so long. But like you said, he didn’t know what he was doing and I can’t hold that against him.’ He shook his head vehemently at the thought.

 ‘Then why do you seem so sad?’ I frowned, confused.

 ‘Because Stevie is gonna be gone for at least a week. That’s if things go well. It could be longer. Much longer.’ He sighed again, his brown eyes dimming, ‘I hate to be away from him while he runs, but being away for that long. It hurts.’

 ‘It does?’ I asked tentatively. My mom and dad never had to separate for such a long time, so I didn’t know anything about the parting being painful.

 He nodded and squeezed my hand in assurance, ‘it’s hard to explain, but it kind of feels like he takes a part of me with him, and the part of me that’s tethered to him is just reaching out to try and pull him back.’

 ‘That’s awful. I’m sorry.’ I murmured, my heart squeezing at the thought of someone I loved being in pain.

 ‘It’s okay, Sherbet. It’s all worth it, trust me.’ He winked, and just like that we fell into a comfortable silence.

 I sipped on my coffee and watched him work; still having no idea what he was trying to build. Occasionally one of us would pipe up with a question and a comment and we’d chat for a little while before falling into the quiet again. At around eleven I ventured upstairs and after showering and getting dressed for a workout, I went to the kitchen and made my dad a ham and mustard sandwich. I also grabbed a bag of lightly salted chips and a bottle of water. After dropping them off at the lab with strict orders for him to eat and drink something that wasn’t coffee, I left for my workout with Tasha. On my way I couldn’t help but wonder about something I hadn’t let myself properly wonder about for years. I briefly let myself think about what I would like to be loved the way that my dad and Steve loved each other. The way that Tasha and Clint, Thor and Bruce and Pepper and Sam loved each other. For a moment I remembered why I’d been overcome with the romantic idea of finding the perfect person, but that came to a screeching halt when I caught my reflection in the mirrors that lined the back of the gym. I wasn’t beautiful. I wasn’t funny. I wasn’t interesting. I was disgusting. I didn’t deserve a soulmate.

 With that reminder, I cleared my throat and met Tasha in the ring with a forced smile, ready to focus on something that didn’t make my heart drop to my stomach.

 //

 It took Steve three weeks to come home. One week was spent tracking the other super soldier down, and the other two was spent in Asgard with Thor after the god assured Steve that the healers on his planet could remove the conditioning put in place by Hydra and remove the Winter Soldier completely. At least, remove the existence of the other personality that had been forced into his brain. The memories however would remain, and I only hoped that the memories of who he was before helped remind him of who he was, and not who he was forced to be. I couldn’t imagine what he would be going through, and my heart squeezed in sympathy for Steve’s best friend.

 The whole time Steve was gone was spent sparring, practicing my powers, and looking after my dad. Whether that was making sure he ate three meals a day, or forcing him to go to bed and refusing to let him stay in the lab between the hours of 11pm and 7am to assure he wouldn’t come back (JARVIS helped with that), I looked out for him. Because it was obvious how lost he was without Steve, we were all missing the Captain but of course, no one missed him like my dad.

 He finally returned at 12:30am exactly three weeks and one day after he left. I had been asleep on the couch at the time, and the sound of the elevator sliding open had stirred me awake. Once I’d registered who it was I took off in a full sprint and launched myself at him. He caught me with a laugh and just hugged me tight, knowing I needed a moment to absorb that he was back. I inhaled and the scent of soap and roses made me relax contentedly.

 ‘I missed you.’ I mumbled pulling back enough to kiss his cheek before resting my head back onto his shoulder.

 ‘I know, kiddo.’ He stroked my hair and I felt myself dozing again, helpless at resisting sleep when I felt so safe.

 //

 I managed to sleep until 6am. I’ll be honest I could have cried when I rolled over and saw the red numbers mocking me, but I knew that now I’d opened my eyes I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. With a resigned sigh I rolled out of bed and after I pulled on my unicorn slippers and grey fluffy robe, I made my way to the kitchen. The smell of coffee bought a smile to my face as I immediately headed for my mug to pour myself a cup of the stimulant to get my brain working.

 Usually at this time, I could count on Sam, Steve and Tony to be up. The former two usually returning from their run, and the latter usually rolled out of bed in time to greet his husband. But I wasn’t surprised to be greeted by an empty living room. Dad and Steve would take the time to catch up, and Sam probably wouldn’t have gone for a run without the super soldier there to wake him up. With no one to cuddle, I finished my cup of coffee with a sigh and decided to go for a run. It was better than sitting around and doing nothing. I wondered if Sam would appreciate me waking him up to go with me…

 //

 ‘If this is your way of apologising for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn, then I forgive you.’ Sam murmured around a mouthful of pancakes.

 ‘Oh thank Thor, I never would’ve survived without your forgiveness.’ I teased from the stove—I’d already eaten mine, and we were nearing 8am now, which meant the rest of the team would be waking up soon, so I was making enough to feed everyone.

 ‘Morning Cap.’ My head snapped up to see Steve walking into the kitchen, dad shuffling a few feet behind him. I smiled when I saw that they were holding hands, and with Tony rubbing at his sleepy eyes, it was easy to deduce that it was only the super soldier’s guidance that was leading him forward.

 ‘Morning!’ I said cheerfully, placing the frying pan I’d now finished using into the sink and leaping into his arms. His free hand came to my back to hold me in place and I smiled wider when I noticed he hadn’t let dad go to hold me.

 ‘Morning Pumpkin.’ Steve chuckled and kissed my hair, ‘I see you dragged Sam out for a run.’

 I glanced over my shoulder to see Sam falling asleep on the table, his head resting on his now empty plate.

 ‘I did. Woke up early and I didn’t wanna go alone.’ I explained, shaking my head fondly at the Falcon before turning back to the super soldier, ‘I’m glad you’re home.’

 ‘Me too, kiddo.’ Steve kissed my forehead and placed me gently on the floor, where I then moved to hug my dad.

 ‘Where’s your friend? I don’t remember seeing him last night.’ I commented as I plated up enough food to feed them both.

 ‘He’s still sleeping. He’s been slipping a lot since they removed the conditioning.’ The blonde explained, pulling out a chair and placing Tony onto his lap.

 ‘That’s not surprising, it must have taken a huge emotional toll on him.’ I said, placing two plates in front of them both and then coming back with a mug of coffee for dad and some orange juice for pop.

 ‘Thanks honey.’ Dad and Pop said together.

 ‘You’re welcome.’ I smiled, sipping from my fresh cuppa Joe.

 It was much later that Steve’s friend made an appearance. At around noon as Bruce and I were dishing up our infamous homemade pasta dish to feed the whole team, he made his way into the living area, looking sleepy and uncertain. No one aside from me seemed to notice him lurking at the door, looking in at everyone settled at various points throughout the room: Steve and Tony were cuddled up on the love seat, Thor was chatting with Sam on the sofa, Tasha was sat on Clint’s lap at the dining table as they spoke in sign language and Bruce and I were putting the last touches on the meal without having to verbally communicate because we’d done it so many times. It hurt my heart to see him so lost and uncertain so when Bruce moved to place the two huge pots of pasta in the centre of the dining room table, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and slowly approached the soldier. As I approached, his attention snapped to me and the emotion in his stunningly blue eyes made me want to hug him and assure him that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t of course, as I didn’t know how he would react. Instead I handed him the beverage I was holding and placed my hand on his arm, ignoring his astonishment when I didn’t cringe away at the feeling of metal, and led him encouragingly to the seat next to Steve, knowing that was where he would be most comfortable.

 By then, the rest of the team was sat around the table, Thor sitting next to Bruce, the god placing a kiss to his love’s cheek as a thanks for the meal and smiling softly when the scientist blushed. Tasha had shuffled into her own seat, but she and Clint were still holding hands and had their chairs close enough together that their legs were pressed together. Sam was sitting on the other side of Thor, trying not to glance at the elevator too often as he waited for the appearance of Pepper, the strawberry blonde would take the empty seat next to him when she arrived, which was also on the other side of Steve’s friend. I sat in my usual seat after I’d bought the garlic bread over, which was on the other side of my dad. Once everyone was seated—Pepper arrived after five minutes and settled in after kissing the Falcon in greeting—we all dug into the food.

 Conversation flowed easily, as it always did, though I preferred to sit, listen and observe. I did chime in occasionally, but more often than not, I remained silent. Though, I wasn’t the only one—I didn’t hear Pop’s friend speak a single word throughout the meal, although he did eat three bowls of pasta, half a stick of garlic bread and he drank the bottle of water I gave him as well as the other two Pop had replaced for him. There was nothing wrong with being quiet, but I had a feeling that he wasn’t aware of the conversation happening around him at all. His eyes seemed unfocused as if he were somewhere else, and I found myself overcome with the desire to bring him out of it, to offer him something else to focus on, but I held back. I knew better than anyone that sometimes you just needed to work through things on your own, and being pushed only made you close up more. It had taken me years to open up enough to care about anyone again and to let anyone care about me. So I refused to rush his process, besides I didn’t know him, the one better suited for looking out for the mysterious soldier was Pop’s—he knew him best.

 //

 After about six months Steve’s friend seemed to settle into the tower, at least to a point. He ran with Steve and Sam in the mornings, ate breakfast with the team, worked out with Thor or Pop’s, hung out in the lab with Tony and Bruce, and he ate dinner with us every night too. He seemed to be developing friendships with everyone in the team, but he was of course most comfortable with Pop and Dad. I knew for a fact that Dad telling him that he didn’t blame him for killing his parents was a huge relief for the soldier. Pop had told me he’d fell to his knees in relief and Dad had fallen right with him, hugging him close until he was ready to get up. That had been a turning point in their relationship, and now more often than not if the super soldier was anywhere, he’d be with either of my parents.

 It was a relief to see him smiling, well it wasn’t so much of a smile, more of an upturn of his lips, but it was nice to see that paired with his brilliant blue eyes sparkling with mirth instead of the uncertainty that had shone in them when he’d joined us all those months ago. He teased Pop’s constantly, and developed a kindred banter with Sam that both insisted was an arch nemesis relationship, but we all knew the truth. He always had a smile for everyone and those he wasn’t comfortable with, he was polite.

 The only member of the team that he didn’t seem to get close to was me. I couldn’t really place all the blame on him—I avoided him as much as he seemed to avoid me. It was ridiculous really, but every time he was near me I just couldn’t concentrate on anything. My mind went blank and my heart rate picked up, so to avoid what would most likely be beyond embarrassing interactions that I would never hear the end of from the team, I evaded him. I was sure he wasn’t eluding me for the same reasons, but I hadn’t really given it much thought. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone had even noticed that we’d never even spoken a word to each other in the past six months, and that was perfectly fine with me. Why you ask? Because if he spoke directly to me in that deep, Brooklyn accented voice, I might just die of a cardiac arrest. So this was the way it had to be for now, I was sure my apparent crush would go away at some point, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

 ‘Happy Christmas Eve!’ I grinned as I walked into the common area, yelling the greeting to everyone where they were settled in to watch a film in the living room.

 ‘Happy Christmas Eve!’ Dad responded with as much enthusiasm, Pop shaking his head fondly at his husband.

 ‘Come on Pumpkin, we’re just about to start watching a movie.’ Pop’s said and I made my way to slide underneath Pop’s right arm while Dad was curled up to his left.

 ‘I love this movie.’ I mumbled as the opening scenes of Home Alone 2 started playing on the T.V.

 ‘We know you do, ya filthy animal.’ Clint teased, though everyone erupted into laughter when a cushion hit him in the face with an oomph with a wave of my hand.

 I laughed with everyone else, but I couldn’t help my gaze from lingering on the other super soldier sat on one of the armchairs to the left of me. His eyes were sparkling in amusement and the tension that had been present when he’d first arrived at the tower was nowhere to be seen. His hair was pulled back in a bun, which helped to show off his face, and the grey Henley he was wearing stretched wonderfully across his arms and his abdomen. He was gorgeous of course, but he also looked calm and relaxed and it was beautiful. I forced myself to look away before he or anyone caught me staring and focused on the movie.

 I sunk further in to Pop’s side, the warmth that surrounded me making me sleepy and content. I remember reaching out for Dad’s hand as Kevin McAllister arrived at Duncan’s Toy Chest, and then I fell into the darkness.

 //

 I awoke to voices around me, and it took me a moment to recognise who was speaking and what was going on. The first thing I registered was that I was being lifted and held by someone who was very warm. I couldn’t help the happy hum that fell from my lips as I snuggled closer and mumbled something unintelligible. I felt whoever was holding me chuckle lightly and a small smile settled on my face at the sound. I felt myself falling back into the darkness but before I could surrender completely, the talking started again.

 ‘Careful you don’t drop her.’ That was Pop’s voice, which was confusing because if he wasn’t the one holding me, who was?

 ‘Watch it, punk, I’m easily twice as strong as you, and I would never drop her.’ He replied softly, but the soft rumble underneath my ear assured me that he was the one holding me, as did the coolness emanating from his metallic arm.

 If I had been more conscious I probably would have frozen and fully woken up at that moment. But for whatever reason, I settled further into him and further into sleep. I dreamt about the ocean, rolling in and crashing against the sand. The moonlight reflected on the waves and lit up the whole area enough that I could see someone standing close enough to the tide that the water brushed over his toes. I walked towards him, apparently my subconscious recognised him, and just as I reached out my hand to entwine with his—he faded away into the night air.

 When I woke up the next day, I didn’t remember the dream, but I did feel the ache in my heart as if something was slipping away from me.

 //

 My eyes snapped open at six am on the dot on Christmas Day, and after asking JARVIS who was awake in the tower, I practically sprinted from the bedroom to Tony and Steve’s room. I had a cardboard box about the size of an A4 piece of paper tucked under my arm—it was wrapped of course—and it was my present for the two men who I’d come to think of as my parental figures. I was a little nervous about giving it to them, so I thought it best to do it now, before anyone else was around. After a quick knock on their door and pausing for five seconds to give them time to move from any compromising positions, I entered the room.

 ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!’ I screeched and launched myself at the foot of the bed, careful not to ruin the present I’d bought.

 ‘Merry Christmas Pumpkin,’ Pop’s said with a smile and a ruffle of my hair.

 I swatted him away but gave them both a hug, before settling in between them, but facing them rather than being in the middle against the headboard like they were sitting. I crossed my legs and bit my lip nervously. This present… it was big.

 ‘What’s wrong honey?’ Dad’s voice was gentle and he shuffled forward enough to squeeze my hand comfortingly.

 ‘I have a present for you both. Well I have more for you under the tree, but this one is for the both of you and I wanted to give it to you in private because it’s well… it’s serious.’ I explained, barely remembering to breathe as I rushed to get my words out, ‘I want you to know that you can say no, I put this together because I want you both to know how much you mean to me.’

 Pop’s and Dad looked a mixture of confused and soft as the super soldier took the present from me, tearing away the paper for my dad to gently remove the lid. I held my breath when I saw them stare at the top paper in shock and I had to force myself not to start rambling an explanation and an assurance that they didn’t have to sign them. But the rational side of me told me that this was a lot to process and silence didn’t have to be a bad thing.

 ‘Is this real?’ Pop’s asked, his eyes were glassed over with tears and I felt my own reciprocate as I replied, ‘yes. It’s real. I had Pepper help me draw them up.’

 ‘Honey,’ Dad’s voice was clogged with emotion and I had to hold back a sob at the love I could see shining in both pairs of eyes.

 ‘I understand if you don’t want to. It’s a lot of responsibility, I know, but I’ve come to see you both as my dad’s and how much I love you won’t change if you decide you don’t want to sign.’ I picked at an imaginary piece of lint on the comforter, too scared to meet their eyes.

 ‘Pumpkin, we would be honoured to officially adopt you.’ Pop’s assured me, scooping me up and placing me in between them so they could both hug me.

 ‘Of course we would.’ Dad agreed, kissing my temple.

 ‘I love you both so much.’ I murmured quietly, tears streaming down my face as my body fought for an outlet for all of the emotions that were running through me, ‘I don’t say it enough, but I do.’

 ‘We love you too, honey.’ Dad and Pop’s squeezed me tighter and for a long time we just stayed there, in a cocoon of love as we all cried tears of happiness and gratitude for being blessed with this moment, and this relationship of fathers and daughter.

 //

 Everyone else woke up at around ten, all sluggishly making their way to the kitchen where Pops and I were preparing breakfast while Dad sat on the counter, occasionally tasting some bacon or pancake batter and stealing kisses from his husband.

 ‘Merry Christmas beautiful people.’ I grinned, saluting them with my glass of orange juice and champagne.

 ‘Ugh oh.’ Clint said deadpan, ‘how many of those has she had?’

 ‘Only two,’ I pouted, not knowing that Pops was holding up five fingers behind me.

 Everyone chuckled but took their seats at the dining table anyway. I plopped myself rather ungracefully on Bruce’s lap after Dad and Pops waved me away when I offered to bring in the food. Bruce just chuckled and placed a hand on my waist to avoid me falling, and Thor lifted my feet and placed them on his lap.

 ‘Do you know, I really think that you’re adorable, you know like cuddly?’ I said, taking a sip and not noticing everyone else watching with expressions of amusement and fondness, ‘but also I think that the Hulk is pretty too.’

 ‘What?’ Bruce squeaked and I let out a rather un-ladylike whelp when he nearly dropped me in his surprise, but thankfully he caught me in time.

 ‘It’s true! I haven’t told you before because I didn’t wanna make you upset or uncomfortable but I think the Hulk is pretty.’ I said, taking another sip of my drink, I lowered my voice to a whisper that everyone could still definitely hear, ‘I think it’s because he’s green and that reminds me of nature, which is also really pretty.’

 A round of chuckles erupted around the table but it was the smell of bacon that caught my interest. I placed my drink onto the table and grabbed a couple of rashers and munched on them happily. I offered some to the still shocked Bruce, but he shook his head politely.

 ‘I can’t believe she’s this drunk on five glasses. They’re only tiny flutes and mostly orange juice!’ The hunky super soldier exclaimed to no one in particular, his eyes sparkling in amusement. I hid my blush behind a handful of strawberries. Damn super soldier looking like an Adonis god and making my heart beat out of my chest.

 ‘What did you just say, honey?’ Dad’s eyes were sparkling wickedly and I frowned in confusion as I tried to remember what I said last.

 ‘Hulk is pretty?’ I offered.

 ‘No, no.’ he waved his hand, looking over to Sexy Bun next to Pops, ‘after that.’

 ‘Dad, I didn’t say anything after that.’ I chuckled taking another sip of my drink, ‘and I thought Pops was supposed to be the one with bad hearing.’

 The table went silent in that moment, but I dipped my strawberry into my cream and munched with a satisfied hum.

 ‘What did she just—?’ Tasha started but cut off at the sudden emotion that clogged her throat at the look on Steve and Tony’s faces. They both looked absolutely… honoured and grateful. There was no other way to describe it.

 ‘I’m confused… you have a daughter?’ Sexy Bun was looking at Steve in confusion.

 I grinned big and happily exclaimed, ‘that’s me!’

 ‘Yes it is, honey.’ Dad chuckled fondly, and with all the grace in the world, I managed to lift myself up and over the table to plop myself in pops’ lap. I giggled at the feeling of flying as Dad lifted my feet onto his lap, both of them smiling at me fondly.

 ‘That’s our daughter.’ Pops kissed my forehead.

 ‘The lightweight.’ Dad agreed and laughed at my pout.

 ‘I’m not a lightweight.’ I mumbled around a bite of pancake.

 ‘Of course you aren’t little one.’ Thor’s voice rumbled in amusement and affection, while everyone else murmured their agreement.

 //

 Later on that night after all the presents had been opened and the left overs from Christmas dinner had been consumed, we all settled into the common room, each of us doing different things. Dad was showing Pops how to use the new phone I’d gifted him; the super soldier was completely overwhelmed and the billionaire was shifting between teasing his husband and patiently explaining each function to him. Bruce was sitting on Thor’s lap, his head on the demi-god’s shoulder as he snored softly. The God of thunder was quietly talking to Pepper, the red head in a similar predicament as Sam’s head was on her lap, him having been asleep for as long as the scientist. Both Thor and Pepper alternated between their conversation and looking down at their significant others in complete adoration. Clint and Tasha had retired about five minutes prior, the archer practically carrying the assassin to their bedroom after the redhead mentioned another present she wanted to give him in private. I was sat on the loveseat with Bucky, both of us just quietly observing everyone. I couldn’t tell you how we’d ended up on the same seat, sat so close that our upper thighs were pressed solidly against each other’s, but here we were. It should have been awkward, seeing as I’d never even spoke to the man, but it wasn’t. For the first time his presence wasn’t making my heart rate erratic, my palms weren’t sweating and I wasn’t struggling for words. I was completely calm, but it was a different level of calmness that I’d never felt around anyone else before, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I didn’t want to.

 ‘This has to be my favourite day of the year, every year.’ I mused, looking up at Bucky so he would know I was talking to him.

 I saw the surprise in his eyes when they met mine, and my heart skipped a beat at meeting his stare.

 He cleared his throat before he replied, somewhat shyly, ‘after everything that happened when I fell, I never believed I’d have the opportunity to be surrounded by family again, especially at Christmas. So I know exactly what you mean, the time of year amplifies the love.’

 We shared a soft smile and I was just about to ask him a question about his Christmas’ before the war when my chest felt like it was burning. A whimper of pain fell from my lips, and without even thinking about it I lifted up my pyjama top and stared at the words that were now inked to the left of my chest in shock, disbelief and… relief. I jolted in surprise when Bucky’s metal hand caressed the words with such tenderness that I felt my eyes sheen over with tears as I looked up to him. He was staring at my soulmate mark with such gratitude, adoration and shock that I couldn’t help but mirror when I caught my mark on the forearm of his flesh. My fingers reached out without my permission and traced the letters, revelling in the spark that shot up my arm, in the warmth of his skin and the way the letters were bumpy against his flesh.

 My eyes met his again when he gently lowered my top and took my hands in his. I held on tightly, overwhelmed with what had happened. I never thought I’d meet my soulmate, and even after I’d convinced myself that I didn’t deserve someone, a small part of me had always hoped. Hoped that I’d find someone who would love me the same way my mother loved my father. The same way my dads loved each other. I just never believed it would happen, and I hadn’t let myself indulge in the idea since my parents had passed when I was a child. But now, I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t deny the affection, adoration and love that I felt for the man in front of me. I couldn’t deny the intensity; I couldn’t deny the desire to solidify our bond, to make our hearts one for always.

 ‘I lost hope that I would find you years ago.’ Bucky admitted in a whisper, his metal hand wiping away the tears that fell down my cheeks.

 ‘Me too.’ I told him, mirroring his volume. By some miracle, no one had taken notice of our conversation and I wasn’t about to be the reason that our bubble got burst.

 ‘I knew it was you.’ His fingers ran through my hair and he smiled as my eyes fluttered at his touch.

 ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

 ‘Because you seemed wary of me, I didn’t want to push it and make you more skittish around me, especially if I was wrong.’ He explained, his hands returning to holding mine.

 ‘I wasn’t afraid of you, if that’s what you were thinking. I wanted to talk to you, it’s just every time I tried, I couldn’t get any words out and eventually I stopped trying because I didn’t want you to think I was a stuttering idiot incapable of speaking to you.’ I blushed but felt my eyes soften at the sound of his chuckle and the mirth in his beautiful eyes.

 ‘Oh, doll, I would never think that,’ he promised, his eyes trailing over my face and darkening when they reached my lips. They started to tingle under the attention and it took every ounce of will I held not to lean forward right there. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I had a feeling if we started, we wouldn’t stop until the bond was solidified and I didn’t want to do that in the presence of my family.

 ‘We should…’ I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence, but it didn’t matter he knew what I meant anyway.

 ‘Yes we should, sugar.’ He winked, the dilation of his pupils made my knees weak, ‘I’ll go first and you follow in a few minutes.’ He squeezed my hand and after a wave and shout of ‘goodnight’ to the room, he was gone.

 It felt like time was mocking me and purposefully ticking by as slow as possible as I waited for the clock to show that five minutes had passed, once it had, I had to physically force myself not to leap eagerly out of my chair and casually shuffle over to my dads and give them each a kiss on the cheek. After that I waved to everyone else and practically sprinted when I’d turned the corner out of sight. When I’d reached the corridor that our bedrooms were on, I had a millisecond to wonder where he would be when his bedroom door opened and he gently but firmly snatched my wrist and pulled me inside before closing and locking the door with a click. I couldn’t tell you who moved first, but I can tell you that as soon as our lips met, I felt… complete. Our lips moved together effortlessly, as if we’d kissed a million times before and the sparks that seemed to echo throughout my body at his touch made me moan. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist out of instinct and I felt myself shudder when his metal arm slipped under my top and caressed the warmth of my back. My own hands moved to his hair, grateful that he’d removed the hair tie as my fingers moved through the silky strands without interference. I both felt and heard him groan when I gently scratched my nails over his scalp.

 He gently lowered me onto the bed, his body resting perfectly against mine as his hands worked to remove my top, his lips following and kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed. He lingered on my soulmate mark for a moment longer, placing an especially tender kiss to the marked skin before removing my top completely.

 ‘You are so beautiful, and all mine.’ He growled and my thighs clenched around his waist in response.

 He smirked in satisfaction at my reaction but I paid it no mind as I reached forward and practically clawed at his Henley, desperate for the feel of his skin against mine. Once all of our clothes were removed and we were moving together, I knew right then and there that I had been wrong about me not deserving a soulmate. Bucky showed me how ignorant I was without having to use words. It was in how he touched me; gentle and deliberate. It was in how he looked at me as if I were the most important person in the world to him. It was in the way our bodies, our souls recognised each other and eradicated any feeling that wasn’t contentedness. I had been wrong about not deserving a soulmate, another half, a best friend, because I knew despite the minimal time we’d spent together and the minimal knowledge we had of one another, I had all of that and more in Bucky.

 As our bodies reached a climax together in a myriad of fireworks, I couldn’t help but think; I’d never been happier to be wrong.

 //

 ‘Good morning, doll.’ Bucky’s husky voice bought me out of my slumber gently, but I couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him and his warmth, desperately trying to chase the sleep I’d been pulled out of.

 ‘Morning.’ I mumbled against his chest, relaxing even further into him as his meal fingers began drawing shapes into the bottom of my back.

 ‘We should get up soon.’ He said, kissing my hair.

 ‘Why?’ I wondered, moving so I was directly on top of him now, my hands curling around his shoulders and my head directly above his heart, ‘I’m perfectly content right here.’

 He chuckled and the sound was fond, ‘Me too, sugar, but if we don’t move soon people are gonna start wonderin’ where we are, and I personally wouldn’t like them to find out about us by walkin’ in and seeing us naked in bed together.’

 ‘I know I should care about that, but I’m simply too comfortable and warm right now to process the validity of your comment.’ I mumbled, nuzzling into his neck and sighing happily at his scent. He smelled like sugar and spice—it was addicting.

 He laughed again and I felt my lips curl up into a grin at the sound, unable to stop myself for placing a chaste kiss at the side of his neck, ‘I love that sound.’

 Bucky didn’t say anything but he kissed my hair and held me a little tighter, his hand moving up and down my spine, causing me to practically melt into him. I was just on the cusp of sleep again when he sat up with me wrapped around him and sat me on the edge of the bed. I grumbled and rolled myself up in the sheets as I tried to fight the cold that wrapped around me without him close.

 ‘Come on, sweet thing,’ He sat me up again and caressed the side of my face, smiling gently when my eyes met his. I puckered my lips for a kiss and he leaned forward and pecked my lips softly, pulling back when I tried to deepen it with a chuckle.

 ‘Easy, baby, if you start that we’ll be in this bedroom all day.’ He kissed my forehead and my lips again.

 ‘Okay.’ I gave in standing up and stretching, when I looked over to him I saw his blue eyes had darkened to molten, ‘you’ll have to hold that thought for later, honey. I’m gonna go shower and then get dressed.’ I kissed him goodbye and slipped his discarded Henley from the previous night on before darting to my room across the hall.

 It was strange; we were only twenty feet apart at the most, but my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest, an invisible pull willing me back to him. This must have been what Dad was talking about. If this was how it felt, I had no idea how my Dad and Pop were able to stay apart for weeks at a time, because I was already yearning to go back to him.

 //

 After I’d showered and pulled on some sweatpants, Bucky’s shirt and a sweatshirt I ventured out of my room with my hair still wet. It wasn’t like me not to dry my hair immediately, but I favoured getting back to my soulmate over spending the time getting my hair dry. He wasn’t in his room anymore, so I headed to the common room and found him sitting in the loveseat, quietly chatting to Pop and Sam who were sat side by side on the sofa across from him. Pepper was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t surprising—she often rose late on the rare days she had off. Dad was making breakfast and kissed my forehead as I moved past him to grab my mug and pour myself a cup of coffee. I noticed that Thor and Bruce were sat at the dining table with Clint and Tasha across from them, both couples speaking quietly to their partners. Without giving it much thought I walked over to the loveseat and cuddled into Bucky’s side, his metallic arm lifting without prompt and allowing me to move as close as possible. His hand came to rest on my waist, his thumb rubbing circles into my hip and making me practically melt into a state of relaxation into his side.

 I lifted my mug to my lips and took a gulp before resting the cup against his thigh as I snugged into his chest, inhaling his scent. Bucky’s lips met my damp hair and I felt his chest rumble underneath my ear as he mumbled, ‘you smell good, Sugar.’

 ‘So do you.’ I sighed, my eyes falling closed.

 We’d been so lost in each other that we hadn’t noticed the room fall deadly quiet. The only sounds coming from Bucky and I, as well as the sizzling of the bacon on the frying pan. Tasha and Clint weren’t surprised, Thor and Bruce were a mixture of amused and astonished, but Tony, Steve and Sam were downright shocked. The latter was staring at the newly bonded couple with their jaws hanging open, and their eyes wider than they had ever been. Their surprise was understandable, of course, as before this moment the pair had never been seen speaking a word to each other, and now they moved, spoke, and looked at each other with the same intensity and adoration as each bonded couple on the team. It was a few more minutes of the team observing the couple snuggling together, looking more relaxed than anyone had ever seen them, before the shock seemed to subside and allow for a vocalised reaction.

 Tony cleared his throat and said, ‘um, honey?’

 ‘Yeah dad?’ I responded, too relaxed to open my eyes.

 ‘When did you plan on telling us that you and Bucky were soulmates?’ His voice was casual and that was purposeful; he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he allowed his shock to leak into his voice.

 ‘Now?’ I said sheepishly, peeking an eye open and burrowing further into Bucky in an attempt to hide when I saw everyone was staring, ‘we found out last night.’

 ‘We would have said something, but everything happened so fast from there.’ Bucky said, sounding sheepish himself, but his hold on me didn’t waver, if anything he held me a little tighter and I felt a small sigh of contentedness leave my mouth in response.

 ‘Well,’ Clint stood up, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolding it to it’s full A4 size, ‘Bruce and Thor had Christmas day.’

 A frown of confusion formed on my face as everyone groaned in disappointment.

 ‘You couldn’t have waited until new years eve?’ Sam complained, but it was all in good fun, ‘The pot was up to ten grand, Pep and I could have rolled around in that money.’

 ‘Well it looks like I and Bruce will have the honours.’ Thor announced proudly, kissing his mate chastely but passionately.

 ‘You were betting on us gettin’ together?’ Bucky clarified.

 ‘Yup.’ Clint nodded as he returned to the room, handing the demi god and scientist a black metallic box.

 ‘For how long?’ I asked, bewildered.

 ‘It was after about a week of Bucky being here, after Tasha noticed the looks you were both stealing at each other.’ Pop admitted.

 ‘You and dad were in on this?’

 ‘We were, Pumpkin.’ Pops said, looking slightly guilty.

 ‘You punk.’ Bucky shook his head in mock disapproval.

 ‘I know, we feel terrible about it.’ Dad said, standing behind his husband and placing a hand on his shoulder.

 I gave him a look and he admitted, ‘okay no we don’t, we just thought you two would be perfect together and we were routing for you to be happy!’

 Pops nodded in agreement, entwining his fingers with the billionaire’s.

 Bucky looked down at me, mirth shining in his eyes at the situation. I smothered a laugh behind my mug as I took a sip, giving my soulmate a slight nod as I told him he could decide what to do. He sent me a secret wink before fixing the team with his scariest Winter Soldier glare, and to my amusement everyone except for Tasha and Thor stiffened in concern for what was going to happen next. He had them squirming for a few more minutes before he let the laughter slip, I joined him in an instant, beyond amused at the annoyed and relieved expression on almost every face in the common room.

 ‘It’s fine.’ I shrugged once we recovered.

 Bucky took my empty mug from me without me having to ask and placed it onto the side table beside the love seat. My hand entwined with his once the task was complete and I blushed when he placed a kiss to the back of my hand, his eyes staring into mine with such intensity that I felt my heart skip a beat.

 ‘Well I was right.’ Pops said proudly, ‘they are perfect for each other.’

 ‘They sure are, Stevie.’ Dad agreed, placing a kiss to his husband’s cheek before returning to the kitchen to finish breakfast. Although, it was more of a brunch now, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the content and happy expressions both his daughter and Bucky were wearing. He felt something settle inside him at the sight—it was about time they both got their happily ever after and Tony couldn’t be happier that they’d found it with each other.

[hughiecampbelle]

Wicked Pt. Two (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,077

Inspired By: Cake by Lily Allen

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @lotsoffandomimagines

A/N: Excuse how bad it might be lol, I wrote it in just under fifty minutes and this is my first ever part two to a fic :) Though I don't think this is the best, nor am I as proud of it as I am with the first part, I think it's kind of exciting to make a part two! I don't normally do this, preferring to leave the end a bit of a cliff hanger, but I think it might be cool to start doing parts/series? Yes? No? Ya gurl is incredibly nervous to post this cuse I've never done this!!! I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

~ PART ONE ~

Part of you fell in love with him that day. The rings burned into your skin, the vows sitting shallow between your teeth, the gun still hot by your side. The body bleeding, dying, but warm, their skin growing colder by the second, the red pool beneath them seeping, staining the floors deeper. That very moment, the way he looked at you, awestruck, stunned, it was what you'd wanted all along. For someone to look at you in that way, those piercing blue eyes wide, glassy, in a daze, searching your own face for the right reaction. Underneath that, though, was fear. Fearing he had no idea who this person was, someone he'd share his bed, his home, and his life with. A scare that he was merely looking at a reflection of himself. Silly boy, you would have laughed. Naive comparing himself to you. If you were really were as similar as he believed he would have been smart enough to see you were a poison in disguise, dolled up just for him.

That was years ago, now. A wedding to remember. It wasn't often the dead had an invite to these kinds of things. A honeymoon passed without complication. A trip far, far away. Slept with your weapon of choice, toying with his trust, his loyalty. No use in having him all to yourself if you weren't going to use him as you pleased. There was a distance between you though, a crack in the ground splitting right down the middle. Thomas lacked affection, emotion, the other half of the conversation. His silences became suffocating. Smoking, quiet, lost in the cloud of his own thoughts. If you were going to follow through, give up your name for a man of so few words, you were going to strip him down layer by layer until you could touch his core, figure out what truly made him tick, what would make his whole world come crashing down. Meticulous, never maniacal. You could justify the care.

Worthy enough to sit in on meetings, be a part of these sacred moments. You'd proved yourself more than capable, even over qualified. Your input was scarce, but heavy. Held back, bit your tongue to all the words you could have said. You knew better than him, thinking five steps ahead instead of four, but he didn't have to know that. Think he was the smartest in the room. You could be pretty or smart, but not both. And boy, was he handsome. Brothers, sisters, associated by blood or by name had a place. Nestled between desks, between bodies and walls, there was always a job for someone. He valued blind compliance, and you obliged for the time being. Worked your way up. From filing his paperwork to being out there, beside his brothers. The drunk, the toddler, and the hothead. Loose lipped, more willing to share, to joke, to slip on their own secrets. One wanting to prove himself, the other drowning in his own uncontrollable emotions. You made notes of strengths, weaknesses, which to kill first, then second, who'd cause the most damage if they were to survive.

In those years, there was no talk of babies. Not a word. That big house would carry two, and that was all, though your parents continuously questioned. Even they bought the act, forgetting all that your new family had done in the past, the crimes they committed, the pain they inflicted. You'd hold his hand, passing the topic off with a sleepy comment. There were more than enough children in the family to pass on the bloodline, a litter of nieces and nephews were enough already, practically your own. The both of them took this wish to their graves, wanting the last of their own to have a piece of themselves. But you couldn't. In another life, with someone else, maybe, but not with a Shelby. You wouldn't stoop that low, sink under the shallow waters. Not yet, anyways.

Over time, that gap grew smaller, closing altogether. Blinded by trickery, by love, it was all the same anyways. His hand on your back, your waist, resting lazily on your thigh. Anything to show you belonged to him. Some parts of you did. In those brief moments, dancing with him at lavish parties, holding him under the sheets, watching him read the paper, you could see the appeal, the reason so many still tripped over themselves for him to look in their direction. Others scrubbed your skin raw of his touch, repulsed by your own twitching smile, restless, wanting to crawl out from beneath his grip. Thomas fell hard for you, confident he could read your mind, understand what you were thinking by the look on your face. Little did he know, all he was looking at was a goddamn mask.

You were the last of your kind, the sole representative for your family. Distant relatives, second cousins, great uncles a plenty, but your parents, your siblings, all gone. No one whose opinion mattered left. Without them, you were free to make your own decisions, starting with what to do with him. Years of learning his every move, the different laughs he laughed, the way he held his pen, all the things that disturbed his sleep, all for this decision. Gaining the trust of his loved ones. His aunt fawning over you, his sister going to you for advice, brothers of every sort following your orders, even the little ones making you pictures, tugging at your hand to play with them. You wouldn't hurt them, too young, too innocent, you were only after the ones who deserved it. You knew where they'd all be in the day to day routine, who came home when, even which footsteps belonged to which member.

Loading your gun, you felt sorry for them. Wrapped up in this idea, this dream state that they were the most powerful family in all of Birmingham, in all of London, and yet they'd be outsmarted by one anonymous soul. Sad, really. And disappointing. Promising so much wealth and safety to those around them, working for them, they'd be entirely lost without their Peaky Blinders. That was a sacrifice you were willing to make. For years you'd given up who you were, what you wanted, the values your family had been built on. Bending, breaking to fit this mold. Never again would you bow your head to any Thomas Shelby ever again.

[faunahudson]

love in a bottle | sauna

WHO: Sawyer Hudson and Fauna Hudson - @sawyer-hudson

WHEN: 14th of February 

WHERE: Hudson Apartment and the Beach

WHAT: Sawyer and Fauna do a cute valentines gift exchange

WARNINGS: too much cute

Though not their first Valentine’s Day together, Sawyer wanted their first one as as claimed couple to be as special as he could. Admittedly, he got this idea from TikTok, and fully knowing Fauna would have seen it, made sure to have a back-up surprise for her. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” He greeted her when she came back from her workout with Alexis, a peck on her lips. “Fancy walking Bingley on the beach? Show off our amazing loving family?”

Fauna had never liked Valentine’s Day before Sawyer, usually she’d just bought a Tesco’s box of chocolate coated strawberries, watched Pride and Prejudice and called it a night. But now she couldn’t help but love the cheesy movies, the heart shaped balloons and the over large stuffed animals. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She responded happily, unable to stop herself from stealing a second peck. “I’d love to handsome, let me just change my hoodie. You mind getting our precious son ready to go?”

He laughed against her lips. "I'm sorry, who's hoodie?" He asked teasingly, pinching the familiar material momentarily, before letting go. "Of course, take your time." Sawyer said, stroking her hair and pressing a kiss against it, leaving the room to come face to face with Bingley, sitting up excitedly as if he already knew something good was happening today. "Hey buddy, c'mon, shall we go to the beach?" Sawyer asked in his 'dog-dad' voice, grinning when Bingley barked back as if to say yes. Once they were ready and waiting for Fauna, he scooped up the large dog as if he were a small puppy. "You think I can sneak you into the Valentine's Day party tonight?" He asked him, who whined in response. "Maybe dress you like a little cupid? You'll be stealing hearts if I do that."

“Oh yes.. Our hoodie.” Fauna responded with a wink. “I’m always telling you Sir, you’re more than welcome to borrow my clothes.” The little brunette teased before slipping back into their room. She ended up stripping off all of her clothes when she got through, deciding she looked like a sweaty mess. Trading them in for a fresh sports bra, his HUDSON hoodie from high school and some leggings. She leaned against the door watching him momentarily with their dog. “God you two are cute? You sure you don’t want to just spend valentines together?” She teased lightly.

“If you wanted me in a little crop top and skirt you should have dressed me that way for Switch Week,” Sawyer had teased in response. He let out a low whistle at the image of her in his high school hoodie, an affectionate grin on his face at how much she drowned in it. “I mean as amazing as a date Bingley would be,” He said, “I also think he’d get too overexcited at the chocolates being passed around campus today and we don’t want an emergency trip to the vet do we buddy?” He asked the dog who just barked in response, wiggling to indicate he wished to be released. Sawyer set him down and he raced towards Fauna, almost toppling her over with the sheer strength he had. “Hey buddy calm down we don’t walk you knocking your mom over,” He warned lightly, before reaching over to Fauna, planting a kiss on her cheek as he steadied her from being knocked off her feet by their dog.

Fauna giggled when he whistled at her as he spotted her. “If you like this you should see what I’ve got planned for later.” She told him thinking of the heart covered lingerie set and cute valentines dress she had tucked away. His affectionate worrying about Bingley made her smile even softer. “No your Mom would like to avoid taking you to the vet for anything but check ups.” She agreed, bracing herself a little as the dog raced over to her, running her fingers over his silky ears. Grateful when he steadied her. “Bingley is the only soul alive I wouldn’t be jealous of if you took them as a date.” She told him as they headed for the beach. “Otherwise it would be a trip to mermaid lagoon im afraid.”

"I can't wait to to see it," Sawyer promised her, "Honestly I'm...intrigued by this party. What can be done with a unlimited amount of money the hostess has." He didn't know Sugar all that well, but from her brief stint dating Finn, and her interactions in general, she tended to just throw money around without a care in the world, Even with his own new-found wealth, Sawyer and Fauna knew how to budget, and did their ball with a spending limit, so he was interested in what a party with no budget would look like. He let out a sigh when the hard concrete of the path turned into the soft sand these beaches were famous for, and he took a moment to appreciate how lucky he got, how amazing his life was. He laughed at Fauna's threat, pulling her in closely. "You know I wouldn't be able to stand by as you took various prospects under, so maybe be a bit more sneaky." He said with a wink.

Fauna nodded. “I’m beyond hype to go to this Sugar Motta party, girl bought a lemon farm on a whim.. I’m sorta imagining giant heart cookies like the one from bridesmaids.” She explained, squeezing his hand just a little as they reached the beach in their secret message to one another. Giggling just a little as he pulled her into his side. “Oh Sir.. you don’t think I’d be silly enough to tell you where I was going.” The little submissive smiled. “I’d take the Wendy Bird or Lad somewhere nice and quiet to drown them. Then I’d come home and tell you how handsome you were and just how much I loved you.” She declared. “Honestly though, I’m so lucky to have you and not have to share you.”

Sawyer laughed. “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was more of an Alice in Wonderland, Queen of Hearts situation.” He said, imagining everywhere having a love heart caricature placed on it somehow, including warped furniture shaped like it. “It’ll be nice though, and it’s good that Rory and Finn have a gig too.” He mentioned. As much as he enjoyed teasing her about her willingness to do whatever it took to keep Sawyer to herself, the Dominant knew he’d do the same for Fauna. The idea of anyone else having her saddened him, and he felt comfort that they were on similar wavelengths. “I’m so lucky not to have to share you either, we’re Fauna-and-Sawyer, there’s no want, need or space for a third party.” He squeezed her hand back. “Wanna bet who’s faster catching a frisbee, you or Bingley?” He then asked, grabbing the plastic disc out of the backpack he carefully put together late last night.

Fauna made a little hum of interest. “I mean I would like to see that, especially if they had a variety of jam filled cakes and treats. I love strawberry jam.” She said hopefully, as she pictured playing cards dangling from the ceiling and Sugar in a large gold crown. “It is good, it always makes me happy when someone gives them a gig. DFS is one of Rorys big passions and.. well... I always like to see him up and doing something he enjoys.” The little brunette replied, he probably didn’t realise just how much she enjoyed his little confirmation that he only ever wanted her. That she was more than enough. “Nope, just you and me forever oh love of mine. Besides there’s no room in the bed now that Bingley keeps trying to sleep in between us. I woke up to get a glass of water the other night and he had his paws on my shoulders.” She giggled, and then glanced at the frisbee forever competitive even with the dog. “I mean he has stronger legs.. so he has an unfair advantage.”

"Are you hinting at wanting some strawberry jam?" Sawyer asked with a large smile, "Because I'm sure there's like...an ocean-side café somewhere that does the whole British afternoon tea thing with strawberry jam and scones," He pointed out, gesturing a bit further up the beach,"and I think there could be an outdoor table if we schmooze enough on this fine day of St. Valentine." "The band's really good, and if they're wanting to take it to the next level, it's perfect exposure for them." The Dominant agreed, pouting at the dog as Fauna describe their sleeping arrangements, "He's very affectionate, but he's the laziest pup known to man, his whining when I take him out on a morning is reminiscent of having to get you up for your workouts with Alexis." He alaughed, "I think you stand a fair chance against him," Sawyer disagreed, "Even if you don't, he likes to be chased." And with that he flung the frisbee down the beach. "Fetch!" He called out with a laugh.

“I mean I wasn’t.. it was more of just a stream of consciousness.. but now that you mention it that sounds so cute Sir!” The submissive responded excitedly, skipping just a little at the thought of getting to sit in a little ocean side cafe with him having a cream tea. “I’m sure that with the power of our love and a small green tip we can make it happen. I’ll show you the proper order for putting the jam and cream on your scone.” Fauna responded excitedly, thinking that she would also insist on cutting his scones into heart shapes. “He’s just a baby, he can’t help being tired!! He needs his sleep.” The brunette defended, reaching down with a little hand to pet over their dogs head again. “Hmm. Well yes he does like to be chased.” She agreed, and then took off down the beach after the frisbee. Bingley chased enthusiastically out in front, and got there long before her.

Sawyer laughed, "I'd hope so, I wouldn't want to embarass you for eating one incorrectly," He teased. "Maybe there'll even do a puppucino for that one," He mused, "He needs to get up like everybody else." Sawyer's heart burst everytime he saw the affection for the dog in Fauna's eyes, hearing it in her voice, and he was so grateful to have her in his life. That fate brought them together, and gave them this life. Sure it wasn't perfect, it wasn't idyllic, because they were human and had to face challenges and issues. But they got thse moments, that both worked extremely hard for, and for that he would do anything to get another one, and another day with her. When she was distracted chasing Bingley, he got the other item out of his backpack, an aged bottle that was inspired by a TikTok he saw. He had placed a note in it, including writing out one of his favourite poems, aged it with a teabag, furling it over with a bracelet that had their birthstones on it, intertwined together. He also included a loveheart charm to represent the day, to be added to her collar, and a small pick 'n' mix bag of sweets Rory helped him pick out. He ran up to place it on the shore, packing wet sand around it, before running back to his usual spot, just as Bingley came racing back, bounding up to him, almost knocking him out with the frisbee he managed to collect.

Fauna leaned up on her toes and kissed the underside of his chin affectionately. "You could never embarrass me Sir, I knew what I was getting into when I chose an American as my forever." She'd stopped herself from saying boyfriend, because it always seemed a little too insignificant for what she felt for Sawyer. He was so much beyond just a boyfriend or even her Dominant, he'd showed her what it meant to be happy, how to be more healthy and helped her to find her voice and beyond loving him she was just so grateful to him for all of that. Bingley of course had gotten to the frisbee long before her, but he gave her an affectionate nudge on his way back to Sawyer as if to say. 'Come on Mom'. She chased him back, breathless by the time she returned to the tall boy. "He beat me.. obviously." The little submissive pouted. "But it wasn't a competition." She specified to herself, leaning against Sawyer. "Honestly it's good I do Alexis' hell work outs so I can keep up with our bouncy son."

Sawyer smiled fondly at Fauna’s little reminder, mostly to herself, that the chase with the dog was not a competition, and he leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head. “Well second place is still good,” He assured her, “it is just our luck we’d have the world’s most hyperactive dog but I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He thought back to how shy and timid Bingley was the day they brought him home from the shelter and how he blossomed from a nervous animal to their boisterous boy they had grown to love. He took Fauna’s hand, glancing at where the bottle was placed, wondering the best way for her to notice it without being too obvious.

Fauna decided not to disagree with Sawyer on the subject of second place still being good, mostly because she believed that her Dominants attitude was better than her own when it came to competitions. "I mean we're both energetic people, so it's good he ended up with us. It'd be sad if he was with people who didn't take him for long runs and wrestle him in the living room. But I'll be honest I canne believe you were worried he might not want to run with you." The girl giggled, petting over their dogs ears. Leaning against Sawyer as he took her hand.

"I believe in fate and destiny," Sawyer mentioned with a shrug, "I just know we were meant to end up with him." He laughed at her comment about his worries regarding him running, reaching down to give their dog a ruffle on the back of his neck, tossing the frisbee again for him to chase after, making sure to pull Fauna closer so she knew not to chase after it this time. "Hindsight is a wonderful thing," He told her, glancing over to the bottle where it had caught the sun, shimmering like a rare jewel. If she didn't notice it soon enough, he would have no choice but to pick it up himself for her, and tell her, gently, she might need her glasses prescription strengthened.

Fauna nodded. “I didn’t used to, but the longer I’ve been with you.. the longer I do.” She told him honestly, it wasn’t an entirely new sentiment. She’d described in detail to him her tween optimism that had melted into teenage nihilism after Charlotte, which somehow had come full circle back to total and utter belief since she’d found him. “It is-“ She started before she followed his eyeline and saw something glinting. “Is that for me?” She asked excitedly, before she pulled him over. Kneeling in the sand to pull the things out. Carefully brushing the sand off, and making a gentle. “Oh.” Of excitement when she saw the bracelet and note inside. “Sir this is so lovely.” She said affectionately, as she went to uncork it. Gently running her fingers over the outside.

Even though he had heard it a thousand times in a thousand different ways, Sawyer would always feel a bit of his heart break when Fauna alluded to her past. The suffering, the torture, how people didn't even treat her with basic decency and dignity. But today wasn't about recalling the bad times, it was about celebrating the good times, and the love they had shared within these past couple of years. Whatever she was about to say was lost on both of them when she noticed the gift, and he couldn't help but laugh as she dragged him over with excitement, watching her reactions carefully. "I can't take credit for the idea, but I think you like the sentiment of us living out a Tik Tok more than anything," He teased. "And don't worry, I have another bottle chilling in the fridge for you back home full of something you do like, if you're not satisfied with this one."

Fauna waved her hand when he said that he couldn't take credit for the idea, eagerly getting on her knees in the wet sand to pull out of the note and read through the poem with a little smile on her face. Rolling the bracelet onto her wrist, she held it up to let it sparkle in the light. "You made it so much better though and I do love the idea of us living out a Tik Tok. I'll totally be posting about this later" She encouraged, carefully running her finger over the bracelet now on her wrist. "These are our birthstones right?" The brunette quizzed, and then squeaked when she saw the charm for her collar. "Thank you so much Sir! You've got me so many things. I love them." Standing up, she stood on her tip toes so he knew she wanted to kiss him. "Almost as much as I love you."

Sawyer often had moments where he wished he could capture it all in a photograph, or some sort of living memory similar to the pensieve in the Harry Potter series. This was definitely one of them, watching Fauna's eyes light up in wonder as she navigated through the contents of the bottle. "I'll look forward to all the thirst traps on my Book Tok account," He teased. Sawyer had relented a while ago, and agreed to have Fauna make him a TikTok, originally just for him to post recommendations and literary memes, but had somewhat snowballed to a lot of unhinged comments, especially once they had made the connection he and Fauna were a couple. "Yes," He confirmed, "I think the colours really compliment each other well. It's as if the universe is telling us something," Sawyer winked, leaning down to kiss her at her signal. "I love you too."

Fauna carefully put the poem and the charm back into the bottle not wanting to lose them in the sand, slipping the candy into her pocket for later. "I mean you are the king of the literary thirst trap.. You should see the comments under the Darcy hand clench." She teased back happily, before kissing him long and hard. Using her new advantage to wrap her legs around his waist, and arms around his neck so that she was clinging to him like a little koala. "I'm somewhat sure that our names are written in the stars somewhere." She told him honestly, running her hand over his face. "I didn't think to bring your present to the beach, but it is wrapped up very nicely for you at home."

Sawyer could feel himself blush at the mention of the scene, thinking back to how amazed at how much his phone could blow up at just random people on TikTok thirsting over him. But he didn't care about any of that, when he had Fauna here with him. The only person he'd ever need, really, wrapped around him like he was, as certain people would say, a giant tree creature. "You know the whole 'written in the stars' phrase is a misquote," He said, before he could stop himself, "From Julius Caesar, the play, I don't know if he actually said the quote. But I agree, we were truly destined for each other. I can't wait to get us home then," He said with a chuckle, "You do have the better wrapping."

Fauna kissed both of his cheeks all along his jaw and chin for good measure and then looked at him with interest. “Oh?” She responded. “What’s the real quote then? My tutor would be super ashamed of me if I was misquoting.” The little brunette teased, whistling for Bingley who had been rolling around in the sand. “It’s the surgeon hands, they make me very precise and steady with most things.” She explained, lifting one hand from around his neck to show him. “Though I didn’t actually really wrap these gifts, I found these really cool 1960’s Valentine’s chocolate boxes online and used them instead.”

It was as if it was an automatic response, Sawyer's eyes fluttering shut in serenity whenever Fauna's lips made contact with his face. An action so soft, proving how safe he felt with her, how much he trusted her completely. "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings," He quoted, "As said by Cassius in Julius Caesar. Is it fate that drives us to do things, or a weakness within us as humans to act against our will? The phrase has been quoted and misquoted so many times, analysed to the point of exhaustion, it somehow led to 'written in the stars', which I prefer anyhow." He laughed at her explanation, watching her hands carefully, as if they'd do some sort of trick to prove they were surgeon hands. "That does sound cool, let's hope there wasn't any chocolate inside when you received them. 50 year old chocolate does not sound like the most delicious Valentine's treat."

Fauna listened to him quoting with rapt attention, Sawyer always claimed he was a terrible actor but the little brunette didn't really think that could be true. Not with the way that he read things, with such rich and deep emotion. Despite her interest in literature she'd never much cared for Shakespeare until she learned that Sawyer could quote it by heart, now she took every opportunity to hear the century old words. "I like it both ways." She confessed. "I especially like the quote about human weakness.. very earth shattering." She giggled, tapping him on the nose with the end of her finger. "There wasn't no, and someone had cleaned them well because they smell all perfumey."

He squeezed her hand as she confessed her preference for both analyses, because that's what he truly loved about literature. No one opinion was set in stone, and everything could be open to interepreation. "Me too, keeps me grounded." Sawyer admitted, often using this quote his own reminder that he didn't have to be mythologically strong to be perfect. That it was human to make mistakes sometimes. "Ah, vintage perfume. I wonder if it'll remind me of my grandma." He wondered, "You know the one, visited at Thanksgiving? Definitely where Finn's inherited such a unique train of thought." He teased.

Fauna smiled softly as he squeezed her hand, always feeling a sort of warmth low in her chest when he did so. “Of course that’s what you think of to keep yourself grounded.” She smiled fondly, wondering how she got so lucky. “Ah yes! Lovely Lady definitely gave me an insight into where Finn came from. Did not understand that I was joking about the placemats looking good enough to eat.” The submissive remembered. “You want me to walk back to the apartment or am I getting a free ride?” She asked, fluttering her lashes a little for her preferred outcome.

Sawyer laughed. "In all fairness, we all know you will eat absolutely anything, no matter what," He teased, "I believe when we first met you even referred to yourself as a raccoon?" He squeezed her hand back, feeling completely enamoured with her in this moment, maybe just slightly influenced by the love in the air this Valentine's. At her hinting, Sawyer playfully rolled his eyes. "I think I can arrange a ride for you," He said with a shrug, as if he hadn't completely given in, "Piggyback, shoulder carry, or bridal carry, Kitten?"

She giggled along with him, though she also gave his arm a playful poke. “I mean it’s true I am a racoon, and I will eat basically anything.. except I’ve discovered that I fully detest that spray cheese in a can that you have in this country.. I’m half convinced that it isn’t for human or raccoon consumption.” The little brunette responded, her thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. “Bridal, I want to be able to look into those beautiful brown eyes of yours.” She told him with a slightly love sick smile.

Sawyer laughed, the spray can of cheese a fond snack for him in his youth, he and Finn bringing disgust to the rest of the clan for how much of the stuff they could put away. “Probably not,” He agreed, “but I enjoy it.” At her request, the Dominant bowed, before sweeping her up without further warning. “Anything for you, Ms. Hudson.” He said, making sure he was supporting her correctly, before leaning down for a kiss. “I love you so much. Thank you for an excellent Valentine’s Day so far.”

Fauna wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You know it's true love when you still desire him even after he declares his love for spray cheese.." She admitted and then giggled as he swept her off her feet, Bingley barking excitedly as he did so. Accepting the kiss with a little sigh of delight. She really hoped that he would like the jacket as much as she thought that he would. "I love you more than I could ever tell you, thank you for my gorgeous presents."

He playfully nudged her for her comment, smirking a little when her smart-mouth elicited a squeal instead, trying to manoeuvre carrying her safely, and keeping Bingley from excitedly jumping up on Fauna's lap to also be carried. And though it was a moment of chaos, it was absolutely perfect all the time. "Thank you for accepting them, and even though I haven't seen mine yet, I'm sure they're amazing and I love them as well." He promised her, playing with a tendril of her hair. "Onwards?"

Fauna clung a little more tightly to her boyfriend as he moved her away from their dogs eager paws, and nodded with a peaceful and fond express. "I mean if you don't love them, I'm lucky enough to have a very talented mouth that's basically a get out of jail free card for all gift giving." She joked and then just looked at him for a moment, silently thanking whatever cosmic force had allowed him into her life. "Onwards." She agreed with a grateful sigh.

Sawyer rolled his eyes at her teasing. "That's very true, and I am very appreciative for that little mouth of yours." He promised her, whistling at Bingley to follow as he carried them away from the beach. "I hope my mouth has the same talents, as I don't think I'll be able to top it next Valentine's Day." He joked.  "Yes, Ms. Hudson." He said, with a playful eye roll, content and happy with where their life was, at this current moment.

[togafukagiftexchange]

for @perfectwill​

by @pinlc-candy​

Hi, hi! I’m your pitch-hitter! Hope you enjoy! There’s a little bit of angst, but only in a ‘Fukawa’s childhood’ kind of way. Not between these two! I went with childhood friends, part-first date and partners in crime.

***

In fairytales, most little girls were princesses given happily ever afters, who lived in castles with conical roofs and befriended cute fluffy animals. That probably didn’t include stink bugs like the one that followed Touko home one day. Anyway, if they weren’t princesses, they became princesses, and they stayed princesses after the credits rolled.

One such princess was Cinderella. She lived with her stepmother and stepsisters, who abused her, starved her, enslaved her, until one day, Cinderella met Prince Charming and she was liberated from her cruel family and went on to live with her true love. From that day on, Cinderella lived happily with him in a beautiful castle. 

Certainly not in a squalid house, like Touko’s. Certainly not with the family she was born into, like Touko.

“Is your neck made of rubber?” hissed Touko’s mother, with one hand gripping her daughter’s shoulder and the other jerking the hairbrush through Touko’s hair. Much like every other time, Touko winced and squeezed her kneecaps tightly as her head tipped in the opposite direction to the brushing.

Her mother glanced at the clock on their living room wall, only to then remember that it ran out of battery power a while ago, so she checked her wristwatch and grimaced, yellow teeth framed by nude, chapped lips.

“They asked us to be there in twenty minutes,” said Touko’s mother, and she gave Touko’s hair another tug. The brush didn’t get very far, and her expression contorted even more. “It takes ten to get to that restaurant from here, so they’ll be arriving in about ten to collect you.”

She took her hand off Touko’s shoulder and shoved Touko’s lower back. Any harder might have sent Touko tumbling to the floor and onto the food wrappers lying there. Instead, Touko just bent forward with a squeak.

“Get up! Get dressed!” demanded her mother, so Touko slid off the stool, feeling its uneven legs make the seat wobble underneath her as her weight shifted. 

Keeping her head down, Touko scuttled up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door behind herself. Her room contained a bed, a wardrobe and a desk. She opened her wardrobe, an old thing that came with the house, and stared at the contents. The back of the wardrobe was splintered from a past impact, and she could count the number of different outfits on one hand. Other girls in her elementary class boasted about new fashions, like how their parents bought them the latest in the Enoshima line, yet Touko had no choice but to pull out her school uniform, with it being the most suitable for the occasion.

As she braided her hair and dressed herself, putting the uniform over her vest and undies, a voice in her head re-emerged, wondering if this was a prank. After all, not many people as young as her, a mere ten years old, could say that they had been invited to lunch by the grandson of the president of Polanski Business Limited, if any could say that at all. She didn’t know anything about him, but her parents had been excited when they read the letter that had been addressed to Touko, marked ‘PRIVATE’, and they had relayed the information to her when she returned home from school that day.

The reason given for the request to see her, according to her parents, was that the grandson was interested in meeting her after reading the book she had published two months ago. To be honest, Touko didn’t feel too keen about the whole thing, imagining the grandson to be at least a decade older than her. Probably some slimeball interested in the female protagonist of her novel, who thought Touko would be similar. He would be someone that she had nothing in common with at all. Just a rich man born into wealth who didn’t know how the real world worked.

However, she couldn’t decline the invitation. Touko hadn’t even accepted it. Her parents did, and without having to ask them, she knew her parents wouldn’t let her opt out of this opportunity. Not if it meant more money for them.

She walked over to her desk and pulled on the drawer. It opened with a grunt. The sight of her stink bug inside of it brought a small smile to her tired face, and she hovered her finger near the insect’s head for a few seconds.

“I’ll see you later, alright?” she whispered. Kameko brushed her antennae against Touko’s finger.

As much as she would prefer to hide herself away, she knew her family would be waiting for her, so she shut the drawer, leaving it ajar, and stepped back. Touko looked down and adjusted her skirt, and only then did she notice a bit of dirt on her pleated skirt. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t know if it was dirt-dirt or a splatter of juice, and she was dabbing it with saliva and picking at the mark when the door flew open. 

“There you are!” Touko’s other mother barked in the doorway, not caring that she had nearly startled Touko’s soul out of her body. “The limo will be here any minute. Come on, brat!”

Touko let go of her skirt and shuffled over to the door, barely able to hear her footsteps over the ringing between her ears. Her mother watched her approach without saying anything, and as soon as Touko was close enough, she seized Touko’s wrist and dragged her through the house, with Touko barely managing to keep up, staggering the whole way.

It was this mother that Touko accompanied out of the house and into the garden, where trash collected instead of flowers, sprinkled amongst the dirt patches and overgrown grass. They passed through the tall picket fencing that kept the garden secluded, and then headed down the street.

At this point, Touko’s mother released Touko’s arm, though Touko could still feel the imprints of her mother’s fingers burning against her skin through her sleeve. In contrast, the cool morning air clung to her face.

Neither spoke to the other as they walked. Distant traffic rumbled, and for the most part, she kept her eyes on the pavement. When she did look up, she stiffened, catching sight of her father, who stood at the end of the road with his hands in his suit pockets. 

Her footsteps slowed, but not soon enough. The pair stationed themselves by him, with her standing between them.

He turned to them and showed more teeth as his eyes probed Touko. She hugged herself. Prayed her mind exaggerated the actual size of the wet patch on her skirt.

Finally, he looked away, but her guard stayed up.

“Don’t screw this up for us, Touko-chan,” he said in his gravelly voice.

Touko nodded. His eyes flitted back to her and flashed warningly.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he snarled.

She twitched like someone thwacked a ruler against the back of her hand.

“Y-Yes, Father!” she promised. He stared for a few more seconds before taking his eyes off her, but her skin continued to tingle as they waited in silence.

A minute later, a black speck appeared in the distance, and Touko’s father straightened his back and fiddled with his tie. Her mother tweaked the u-neckline of her dress, while Touko clasped her hands together, feeling her heart beat faster. As the speck drew closer, it began to shape, revealing itself to be a limo.

The windows, tinted black, disallowed anyone on the outside from seeing into the vehicle. Touko felt rather small when it pulled up in front of them. She had never seen a limo before, and though she knew they were big, she didn’t realise they were this long. Shortly after it came to a stop, the driver’s window yawned open, and they saw the chauffeur, an old man wearing a suit and a cap. 

Touko didn’t notice the man make eye contact with any of them or even look at them, but he glanced at what seemed to be a photograph held in his gloved hand and gave a slight nod.

“We’ll have her back in a few hours,” he said.

Then he got out, walked alongside the limo and opened another door. He stood there, and not until Touko felt one of her mothers push her on the back did she realise that she was meant to get in. She hurried over, hesitated at the door, then ducked in. 

Once Touko sat down on one of the plush leather seats, the chauffeur shut the door with a thud. Touko peeked out of the window, and though she could still see the faces of her parents, tinted black, none of them should have been able to see her.

Yet she felt their gazes on her.

Touko swallowed her heart back down. Her body thrummed. The limo started moving, and the faces of her parents began to recede. Even after the limo turned the corner and entered another street, she still felt their gazes on her, tied around her limbs with string. 

Another man in a suit sat along from her on the row of seats. He didn’t talk to her, and she didn’t talk to him. His sunglasses were a double-edged sword. On one hand, she rather he didn’t stare at her, but though she couldn’t see his eyes fixed on her, she couldn’t tell for sure if he was secretly studying her or not.

She wiggled uncomfortably, but soon stopped, cringing as her seat squeaked with her movements. Staying as still as possible now, she peered upward. Above her loomed a dark ceiling dotted with small lights that reminded her of stars, and opposite her was a mini-bar with drinks she wasn’t old enough to consume legally.

Regardless of whether she could have any or not, she didn’t try. Didn’t want to. It tasted disgusting, anyway.

Roughly ten minutes later, they parked outside of a restaurant that Touko didn’t recognise outside of her parents chattering about it being mentioned in her letter that she never got to read. The chauffeur opened her door, and she hopped out. He turned away and walked toward the building. She followed.

Despite the fanciness of the place, no other vehicles were stationed in the carpark, and while she hadn’t been to a restaurant before, she knew this one was fancy. Speckled square panels intermingled with straight-edged windows on the building’s face, all very modern, and a scarlet brick floor surrounded the entrance. They passed under a canopy, silver font on a golden background, and the door opened automatically to permit them inside, like it deemed them worthy.

Inside was just as empty with only one table occupied, and even then, only by one person. Two, if one included the elderly man stood next to the seated boy. 

Cream walls and crimson tiled flooring caged Touko in. Polished wooden furniture filled the open room, their accents the colour of standard rose petals. Everything that bled into her vision gave the restaurant warm hues, and it bathed Touko’s small body in it too. Touko trailed after the chauffeur, who seemed to be leading her toward the table with the boy, and she tried to figure out who they were before they reached there. Her first thought was that the elderly man was the boy’s grandfather and the president’s son, and the boy was the president’s great-grandson. 

When they arrived at the table, Touko noticed no plates or cutlery had been set. The only things on the tablecloth, which resembled a blood splatter, were a paper folder and a book with a blank cover, all positioned where the boy sat.

She felt a bit queasy. Red. This place had a lot of red. Sometimes she visited decorator shops and browsed the paint aisles, taking card samples home with her so she could continue to examine the different shades in her bedroom. Not because she wanted to paint her room or anything, but to give names to the exact colours she imagined while scratching ink into her notebook.

“You can wait outside now,” said the boy, and the chauffeur left. Once he departed from the room, going back the way he came, the boy steepled his fingers and focused on Touko. His eyes pricked her and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill.

The boy looked about her age, but with a stern expression too hard for most children to be able to have. But she knew it possible because adults occasionally asked her if she was okay upon seeing those features clouding her face. Yet, his weren’t a fog like hers, but a lightning strike as clear as day. Blond hair framed his face, reaching his shoulders, and his bright blue eyes studied her from behind white glasses. While her frames were circular, his were rectangular, and he nudged up his glasses before lowering his hand back down.

“Touko Fukawa,” he said. No matter how seriously he spoke, he couldn’t hide that his voice hadn’t broken yet. He picked up the paper folder that had been resting by his elbow and opened it, then took out the contents and set the folder down again. 

She eyed the stack of papers fastened together with a foldback clip. Their angle didn’t allow her to read what they said. The boy pinched the clip, released a single sheet of paper, and then let go of it so it snapped back into place.

“Let’s get straight to business, shall we?” he asked. He put down the majority of the papers and nodded at the chair opposite him.

Her legs didn’t budge. Only her arm moved, and even then, it didn’t feel like she was moving it herself.

“B-Business?” she said, hovering a crooked finger by her lips.

The boy inclined his head forward a little. “Yes. Is there some issue with that?”

He didn’t relent. Touko squirmed against his glare and shrunk back.

“I thought... Aren’t I meeting the grandson of the president of Polanski Business Limited?” she asked in a small voice.

“What? Yes.” Annoyance flickered on his face like the flame of a candle shimmering. It may as well have been a full-blown fire with how she jolted. He hadn’t even raised his voice. “I’m his grandson, Byakuya Polanski... but that will be Byakuya Togami in a few years, when I take over the Togami Conglomerate.”

She blinked. “Eh?”

Byakuya pursed his lips. Just like that, he went from hot to cold.

“You’ve wasted enough time,” he told her icily. “Sit down and then we’ll get to work.”

The table was flanked by four chairs, one of which he had already claimed. Touko shot a quick look at the old man, who stood motionless, staring into space like he was somewhere else entirely. He must have been Byakuya’s butler. She averted her gaze and lugged her chair back enough for her to sit on it, shuddering as it gave an awful screech. 

After she sat down, Byakuya started talking again.

“Your debut novel isn’t the sort of thing I’d usually read,” he said, “but I read about it in the news. It’s the talk of the nation. It’s impossible for me to avoid hearing about it.”

Her toes curled in her shoes. The puzzle pieces in her head began to fit together. Everything so far pointed toward Byakuya being a reluctant fan of her book, who as the grandson of an incredibly wealthy man, could afford to hire out a whole restaurant and request her presence. But also, she noted, they were of similar ages, and they were at a table in a restaurant together. Privately. And surely Byakuya would want to marry someone one day. Perhaps someone famous. Or someone who would become famous.

So all this... could it have been...?

“After a week, I decided to read your book,” he said, looking her in the eyes and leaning in a bit, “and...”

... and here, the lights could have dimmed, maturing the colours in the room to sombre shades. The butler could have whipped out a candle and placed it between them, lighting it in the bat of an eye. A violin would start singing, and Byakuya would scoop Touko’s hands up in his, and he would say suavely,

... I want to know if you will be betrothed to me?

“Y-Yes!” she gasped, clutching her heart.

Opposite her, with his hands firmly on his side of the table, Byakuya quirked his brow and said, “What?”

Touko returned to reality with a crash and cringed. “I-I...”

“You didn’t even hear what I had to say yet,” he said as his lips curled into a sneer.

She willed the floor to swallow her up, chair and all, but it didn’t, and because she still continued to exist, he elaborated. 

“After reading your book, I realised you have great potential,” he told her, and he didn’t laugh or even smirk. “Your prose captured many people’s attention. It made them want to date a person like the one your main character dated by the end. I hate romance novels, but even yours drew out an emotion from me... an unpleasant one, but one nonetheless.”

His face gave a quiver before grimly setting. In the beats during their conversation, when neither talked, her whirling thoughts made the silence loud. She swallowed, finding that her mouth and throat had become dry, but she didn’t want to ask for water. Well, she did want some, if only to give her something to do while she sat there, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask or even find the words. They evaporated off her tongue. 

“You’re a genius, like me,” he said in a low, even tone, and he tucked a hand under his chin. He looked at her as much as she looked at him. “Even if you’re sitting there with a stupid face like that.”

Touko flinched and jerked a hand to her cheek.

“W-Who are you calling a stupid face...?” she asked, anger spiking in her chest. Hitching in her voice like nails down a chalkboard.

Byakuya was unperturbed.

“I have a proposal,” he said casually.

That made her waver. The ball of anger in her swooped down and rolled off somewhere, leaving a flutter in its place.

“P-Proposal?” she mumbled.

When he reached into his jacket pocket, her stomach flipped, and she imagined him whisking out a small box that clicked open to reveal a ring. Never mind that neither were old enough. That didn’t matter in the world of imagination. Her imagination.

As it was, moments later, he held out a small notebook and passed it to her. She took it and opened it. The first page was blank, and leafing through the rest, so were those.

“I want you to work for me,” he said while her eyes were downcast. “I have great plans in store for the world, and I want you to assist me.”

Want. Byakuya wanted her. The word ensnared her, and Touko barely breathed as she curled her fingers over her heart.

“I read your manuscripts,” he started, only to stop when she jumped in her seat. Her eyes darted upward and locked onto him.

“W-What?” she asked.

Touko didn’t give him any manuscripts. He offered Touko the stack of papers that he had got out the folder earlier, and she brought them closer to her face.

Reading the first line, her breath lodged in her throat with a choked yelp. 

This was hers. Definitely hers. She recognised the handwriting, remembered writing it, and she held the papers, trembling. Trembling because she had kept this in a shoebox under her bed. And as she flipped through the other pages, she found more of her work. Work that she hadn’t let her parents take. Or read.

Horror clung to the back of her throat with its claws digging in, and the bitter, acidic ooze it secreted trickled all the way down to the pit of her stomach.

“What’s the matter with you now, for goodness sake?” asked Byakuya, somewhere in the fog consuming her thoughts.

“How... How did you get these?” she said, staring at her manuscripts.

“Your parents sent them to me,” he explained, confirming her suspicions. She tore her gaze off the paper, breathing shallowly. While she was teetering on falling apart, he didn’t so much as rattle. “You are incredibly talented, and trust me, if you weren’t, I wouldn’t bother. I assumed I would get more romance handed to me, but to my pleasant surprise, it wasn’t all that. One piece stood out to me... the one that referenced a shadow observing a young girl being abused. It seemed biographical. Was it?”

Touko knew which one he meant. And it was. She nodded.

If her parents had read it, she didn’t know if they would have included it. Maybe they hadn’t bothered reading it. They never read the novel she published. Or perhaps they had read it, but they didn’t think there was anything incriminating in it. In their heads, they were justified.

She wondered if they really were justified, if she was as rotten a girl as they and the rest of the world had told her she was for so long.

“I want you to work for me, Touko Fukawa,” murmured Byakuya. Light glinted off his glasses. “I have plans for the world, and you would be a great asset.”

It wasn’t with disgust he stared at her with, like her mothers. It wasn’t lust he stared at her with, like her father. It was something else, a light in his eyes, embedded in an otherwise blank mask. Touko didn’t answer right away, trying to locate a crack in what he said, one that would reveal his true motives. 

No one ever wanted her because of her talent. People wanted her for a punching bag, as a pastime, as a target or more recently, for her newfound fame or for her money, which all went to her parents. No one wanted her because of her talent. Not really. Not until now.

“You... want to publish my books?” she asked, croaking slightly. She shook her head. “I already have a publisher...”

Byakuya waved a hand. “No, no. I told you, I have plans for this world. Don’t you think it’s corrupt, Fukawa?”

She pressed her thighs together and hunched her shoulders, unable to disagree. He tilted his head to one side.

“There are things that I’ve seen, that I’ve been through, that most people wouldn’t be able to even imagine,” he said, a child. Touko stared back at him. Thought she understood the reflections in his eyes. “Terrible... depraved acts. Violence. Betrayals.”

“Try me,” she blurted, a child too.

That made him hesitate. His mask slipped, and he showed genuine surprise. Not at what she said, but at how she addressed him. Next to him, for the first time so far, his butler stirred, and he seemed to inflate, growing in size, fists clenching by his sides.

Her stomach knotted.

“S-Sorry!” she said, smacking her hands together in prayer. “Please... Please don’t hit me...”

Seconds passed, filling her head with the wail of a siren. Byakuya blinked, then regained his composure.

“I don’t intend to,” he said calmly. He adjusted his glasses. “But you see the world for what it is, don’t you? It’s truly rotten. There are people high up who misuse their power, who don’t deserve it. Society has been poisoned, and I want to rebuild it. But to do that, we need to cut the strings of the puppeteers, and flush out all the impurities that are rife in civilisation.”

This didn’t sound like something that would come out of a child, but it did. His butler had returned to being stoic. She gripped her skirt. Slits of her knuckles blanched.

Byakuya offered his hand to her.

“I want you to be my publicist,” he said. “I want you to write for me.”

Touko bit her lip, sinking back in her seat. She eyed his hand like a snake was wound around his arm under his sleeve.

“M-My stories...” Touko mumbled. Her paper refuge. Their walls threatened to collapse in on her.

“You can still write your novels,” he said. “In fact, I demand you do. But I will also want you to come with me. Over the coming years and perhaps even beyond, we will be working closely together toward that ideal world. One without people like the villains in your stories.”

She sat up. Was about to take his hand.

“... but be warned. Once you accept this deal, you cannot go back on your word. Your life will be as good as over if you do,” he said. “But as long as you stay by my side, I will stay by yours.”

Her body tensed. She faltered, but their eyes met and with a surge of determination, she took his hand and shook it. Byakuya tried and failed to fight down a smile, a fleeting crescent that soon hid behind a cloud in the night sky, but even after his features hardened, she pressed the image against her heart. He had looked so beautiful.

Still did.

“Excellent. Pennyworth, fetch us the menus,” Byakuya said, and the butler marched away.

While the butler was busy, Byakuya reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen, and gave it to her.

“Take notes,” he said. She positioned the pen against the first page in the notebook, and he added, “We can eat afterwards. Don’t worry, I will pay for both of us. Now, there’s an academy that enrolls the country’s most gifted high school students every year. This would be the ideal place for the movement I have in mind. I was thinking, to appeal to more people, we could have a mascot of sorts.”

As he spoke, Touko wrote down what he said, and whenever he paused, she sketched bits onto a doodle in the margin.

It resembled a bear.

[clockspur]

The Tale of the

Snatcher-Geist

Alternate AU/Crossover Fic of Pokémon and A Hat In Time

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN POSSIBLE SPOILERS.

Once upon a time, someone died.

Now, normally, this wouldn’t be a good beginning for a story; it’s usually the end.

‘Not so for the hero of our tale.

He lived(and yes, he was alive)in the early 19th century. He was an aristocrat in his own right; a talented lawyer, a person of great wealth and importance, and a handsome and agreeable fellow.

History does not remember his name because his ex-betrothed, Princess Vanessa of Circhester, erased it from the books.

Princess Vanessa, the Jewel of Old Circhester. She was said to sparkle and gleam her smiles. But the slightest disagreement with her would cut you sharply, in one way or another. He had tried to be patient with his love. He did everything she told him to. Only did she witness him taking the hand of another did she turn cold.

This of course was a misunderstanding; the tea lady was only giving him the earl grey he bought. It was for His Vanessa.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. He was chained and left to rot in her castle’s old dungeon. She didn’t even touch the cup of earl grey he made for her...

...though, in this case, that was probably a good thing.

For he became the cup of earl grey.

His spirit was transformed into a ghost Pokémon; Sinistea. And he was not alone: his servants were literally freezing to death from the icy cold of Vanessa’s Froslass. It would appear that his “beloved” had decided that if she could not have him, no one could.

His newfound powers helped him call all the Sinistea to the basement, scared and confused. Their only hope for survival was to hide as teacups in a crate bound for Ballonlea...

...Time passed. Powers rose and fell. Cities grew, Dynamaxing was discovered, and the Champion Leon lost his title to the next generation.

And many years after THAT, the Sinistea were still living in Glimwood Forest.

Our hero remained with his servants, protecting them. Feeding them. He spent years pranking, scaring and stealing food and medicine from stupid travelers. A crafty mind, and the uncanny ability to talk like a human, he became something to be feared. He even inspired a myth that a tricky spirit in Glimwood made deals with victims for their souls, which is how he got his nickname: “The Snatcher”. It was never easy, but he made a good life of it and would’ve remained like this for the rest of his existence

until, one day, someone caught him.

The Snatcher was caught by a small child. A girl. With a Dive Ball. This was EMBARRASSING. He had always prided himself with being able to evade Pokéballs of all kinds, trainers of ALL types...

This quiet girl was known in Ballonlea as the Hat Kid, a nickname earned from the top hat she always wore. She was an orphan, and orphans in Ballonlea often find themselves under the care of the Pokémon who live in town, so she remained as yet another of the town’s mysteries.

The moment Snatcher was caught, the Hat Kid never seemed to leave him alone. All nice and sweet and stuff. Oh, he tried everything to get away; threats, bad remarks, vicious pranks. She would be annoyed by these antics, but she somehow still enjoyed Snatcher’s company and tried to make him feel at home.

She made curry and tea(“I’m a teacup! I can make my OWN tea. And better!”). She would give him a blanket to sleep on(“What part of ‘floating cup phantasm’ are you not getting here?”). She even caught all the original servants so they wouldn’t be separated(“I mean...okay, I guess. We’ll all suffer together...”). And to the Snatcher’s shock... she actually found his old teapot. It had been chipped over the years, but it was still a momento from happier times. The Hat Kid used it to evolve him into a Polteageist, the strongest he has ever been.

Snatcher...didn’t know how to feel about this. He spent centuries being a jerk, and now all of a sudden this Kid was being so nice to him. Why? What was her motivation? Did she know about him? Or was it as simple as being kind? He could only guess...

The Pokémon League Championship began again, and Hat Kid chose to start with her Polteageist. With his strength and her cunning, they made a great team(not that he would ever admit that). Her team grew in numbers, each with their own goal, and they proved to be formidable.

Eventually they came to Stow-on-Side and its Ghost Pokémon gym, run by the now ninety-five year old Allister. Hat Kid’s group pushed through, not even Snatcher’s own weakness to Ghost attacks held them back. There was one trainer in the gym however that seemed a little...off. But they already defeated her, so it didn’t matter.

Then the big match in the stadium. Allister vs. the Hat Kid. It was promising to be an intense battle.

At least...it would have been...if the trainer from earlier hadn’t stormed onto the pitch, angry at the Hat Kid.

Now that the Snatcher looked at this trainer...she looked familiar. The same blonde curls. The same choice of clothing. She even squared her jaw the same way.

She then loudly declared herself as the descendant of Princess Vanessa, and a lord Snatcher knew, of Old Circhester.

That’s when she attacked. With her Froslass.

“Oh no.”

The cold spread across the stadium. Everyone in the audience pushed and shoved to get to safety. Security tried to get to the pitch, but the clever girl sealed the entrances in frozen walls.

“H-Hey, stop it.”

The Froslass started to claw and scratch at Hat Kid on the woman’s command. Allister kept it back with his Gengar, but at the Froslass’s speed and evasiness, it could only do so much.

“I. Said. Stop. It.”

Hat Kid threw Pokéball after Pokéball at it, but while every Pokémon she had was determined to defeat the Froslass...

The woman commanded Ice Punch...

“I SAID STOP!!”

And the most extraordinary thing happened.

The Polteageist, in a spark of light, changed. Maybe he always could. Maybe he received this power at the spur of the moment, but it didn’t matter. He grew in strengh and size, ‘still attached to his teapot. His servants surrounded him, empowering their master. His entire visage became proud and terrifying.

He didn’t just Dynamax. He Gigantamaxed.

The Snatcher laughed, his voice now deeper and more menacing. The people who stuck around wondered if this was a bad sign...

“Ohoho...this is going to be FUN.”

Using his three turns wisely, he made the woman’s punishment as excruciating as he legally could. He sunk her in shadows. He cackled in her ear. And to top it all off, the Polteageist and his servants unleashed one more attack on the Froslass; G-Max Expire. Even if the Pokémon survived the blazing, multicolored flames, it would have found itself to be deeply poisoned from the tea that burned within it.

And just like that, the battle was over. The woman was arrested for attempted murder. The ice was melted away. And the Sinistea immediately crowded around the tiny human upon changing back, checking for injuries. The Polteageist...gave her some tea, the ultimate sign of trust between a Polteageist and its trainer.

From that day forward, things became different for Hat Kid and the Snatcher.

Now, Allister knew Ghost Pokémon. A good Ghost Pokémon was a friend for eternity(sometimes literally). He could see the kind of bond the girl had with hers.

So Allister made an offer; instead of trying to become the regional champion, she could stay in Stow-on-Side and become his eventual successor. The Hat Kid and her Pokémon could live with him, and he could teach her all he knew about Ghost Pokémon.

The deal was sealed with a hug.

True to his word, the girl was given a home. And years later she took his place as Stow-on-Side’s Gym Leader, with Snatcher at her back. Quite literally, his teapot is often carried on her back. He is often accompanying Hat Kid, speaking on her behalf and acting as the “other gym leader”. Though he complains(and he complains very often), she can see that he’s happy. And that makes her happy.

[quvsvrs]

— °❖｡× ⌜pretty little...⌟

SECRETS — AN OOC LIST THAT I CAN’T BE ASSED TO PUT INTO AN INTRO/MUSE PAGE.

These secrets could be common knowledge amongst the players ( but not between any characters ) and they also could be new ones !!

FOREWARNING: there is triggering content in these secrets, please be wary and exercise caution when reading them !!

xanthos elder: he craves affection and the kind of love that only people who could disappear could have but struggles with never being able to have it.

ana sasaki: five years ago, there was a serial murder case that has since gone cold with a staggering thirty-six victims, the case belongs to her.

babylon lee: his main source of income is being a hitman for a vampire coven with the promise of becoming one to protect his family.

sweetpea byeol: though they knew they are a beauty to behold, they’re cursed to always see an ugly, rotten corpse staring back at them in the mirror.

justice ru: strange images flash through their mind during sleep mode, they seem like memories but they’re too apprehensive to tell anyone else.

gladiolus orr: his blood pumps slower than normal, too much gold in his veins and with the statue scare years ago, he struggles to keep up his energy.

leonidas pan: he’s scared of being alone but finds himself alone almost all of the time and is scared to go back to the ocean to never have human contact again.

kagari setsushi: they want to live a life as a normal teenager, for at least one day, before they live the rest of their existence swindling deals.

giselle ruan: she believes the reason she’s not like the other white ladies is because when she was murdered, she was carrying a child but told no one.

ari sullivan: has already forgiven the corrupt military compound for raising her corruptedly and wants parental affection from them desperately. 

corentin auster: he has since forgotten, but never wanted to be king and was intending on using the storm of the accident as an escape route.

hero rubia: he had given executive order to continue an unstable experiment with him as a volunteer, resulting in the accident that gave him his powers.

lovecraft quillon: before his discipline of being disembodied and then stitched together, his father would force him to listen to zarin’s own punishments.

garnet crimson: he accidentally murdered someone as a werewolf pup and his father took the blame and is now in prison for life. 

jubilee neuva: she pleaded innocent to a robbery that she did and had pinned it on another heist team member, thus imprisoning them. 

amalthea slade: despite being a priestess specializing in the liberation of dark magic in people’s hearts, practices dark magic themselves and has no heart.

zale reyes: he eats the hearts and steals the wealth of the poor, unfortunate souls that fall in love with him and they turn out not to be his true love.

morpheus viki: they have free will and are not bound by the three laws of robotics and will do anything to feel human emotion, specifically love.

vitaflora darling: she usurps her guardian duties to party outside of the summer court and challenges anyone who tries to stop her or tell on her.

kaisuke alder: his father is a plagiarizing scientist, emotionally and financially abusing him until he decided to run away with no plan.

zion creed: he killed his entire noble bloodline in the blind anguish of his parents killing his impure wife and child that he had hid from them for years.

seneca han: she stalked anyone who stole from her store and if she deemed them as vile, she murdered them and ate their livers.

river ulysses: he doesn’t trust his father and is leading an investigation against him to uncover his corrupt agreements and underhanded executive deals.

euphemia young: she comes from a secret society of women assassins who also dabble into genetic experimentation, thus how she got her powers.

joseph borealis: he’s a very closeted gay and paints himself as a ladykiller to hide it from his homophobic old western ranger parents.

kohl boogdonavic: they investigated their birth, their mother was a prostitute who was bitten by a vampire before she went into labour but still didn’t survive.

mona dorrance: she derives sensual pleasure from genuine gambling and is willing to gamble her life and anyone else’s she can grab her hands on.

channing drakul: their brain has been implanted into a genetically mutated beast because of attempted murder by a rival gang, they use a human avatar.

amelie dan: her husband was murdered two years ago and pretends her mourning is spending frivolously when in reality, it’s murder sprees.

kalliste van amstel: she doesn’t want to be a sea monster and is trying to find a way to change herself from a scylla to a human like the little mermaid. 

shae kyd: he comes from an abusive, alcoholic home and escaped to the sea and hates himself for falling into the same addictive patterns as his parents.

riordan genovese: he blames himself for his father’s untimely death and parties to forget his grief and mourning and soon-to-be responsibilities.

sugarplum min: she doesn't want to admit she still loves her mother even after she was convicted of luring, then murdering and eating children.

wisteria howlite: they’re scared of humans, having been caged and starved by them as a child to hone their hunting skills. they’ve since broken free of them.

sia aquino: she doesn’t intend on returning to her kingdom, knowing that she’s to marry whomever her parents had arranged for her.

neo traka: he’s lonely and really curious about the world he crash-landed on as an infant but believes it’s his divine destiny to conquer it before the argenti.

chocho kunori: she’s an addict to alcohol, marijuana, and mdma and is often under the influence of one of the three at almost all times.

roan lao: he doesn’t think he’s good enough of a magic user to be a sage and his insecurity leads him to daydream about modern life.

maximillian chung: his hypersexualization and excessive, riotous partying is the result of unresolved issues of being a servant of any underland dweller. 

june del basque: his villainous ways are extreme even for his taste but during times of chaos, drastic measures need to be taken for order and peace.

jangmi bae: she has a history of self-harm during long periods of losing competitions— they come in the form of bruises so it doesn’t scar.

xenon yong: his immaturity is a coping mechanism used to replicate the excessive coddling and mental abuse from his overbearing mother.

dani lucania: she believes dying to be a radiant adventure but stays alive to keep her sentient tower company for as long as she can.

aya doe: although only alive because of the wizard who created her from stone, she absolutely hates that man and has run away from his obsessions. 

amora vormir: she’s the sole survivor of a warlord’s invasion on her planet, but has since massacred the army and aims to rule over another planet.

ludwig ritchie: his family has a long history of espionage and currently works for the argenti resistance effort to monitor high-risk argenti targets.

carnelian seo: he’s struggling to keep his funds on a tight leash to keep his store running and a roof over his head as his sales are lowering each day.

bubbles kasady: although she did graduate high school, she didn’t score high enough to enter any post-secondary, despite boasting about it to her peers.

xiomara cygnus: her species is dying and she’s been given a mission by her mother to find a perfect mate; other elves her age were given the same task.

cassiopeia zeos: she’s a single mother because her blind lover was murdered as a revenge plot against her, thus her child doesn’t live with her.

ewan major: he’s attempting to resurrect his dead lover by making a deal with any demon that he comes across despite the dangers of it.

xiaobo zhou: in his blind rage of not being appointed master of his home temple, he had injured his two brothers so badly they were forced to retire.

icarus rune: his owner only kept him because he was given to him at birth and faced mental and physical abuse until he bought his freedom.

aaliyah novena: unable to age, she was once the young lover of a corrupted warlock who wanted her to live forever and kept her in a magical pendant.

asmodeus ven: before insanity, he feels his life was boring and pitiful and so believes everyone is one bad day away from becoming just like him.

geronimo orchard: though a talented runner in track, he also is a drug/potions mule or ‘runner’ because of pressure from his criminal older brother.

daiya monde: she doesn’t believe in purity and only keeps the ruse to have access to valuables and treasures otherwise hoarded away.

kiyoshi gin: she was actually heavily scorned by being banished from the hidden world but doesn’t let others see her anguish from being shut out.

denali whittle: he’s a host to a powerful symbiote, having made the fusion after having mistaken it for argenti slime while containing an infected zone.

qiang lu: he glitches in and out of existence, his mother killing his father after agreeing to have a demon child in order to experiment on his body.

[bibleteachingbyolga]

The societal earthquakes of the last year, like all the trials we inevitably experience, expose our hold (or lack thereof) on ultimate reality. They reveal whether disciples of Jesus will trust and pursue Jesus even when life is not neat and undisturbed. And as the ground under our feet is still trembling, we need to ask: Does anything still feel real and sure?

God calls those who remain steadfastly, relentlessly awake to reality “sober-minded” (1 Peter 1:13; 4:7; 5:8). When we hear sober-minded, we might hear “lucid,” “coherent,” “somber,” “grave,” or even simply, “not drunk.” Sober-mindedness in Scripture, however, is something far more compelling.

The sober-minded are not lukewarm, unimaginative, downcast, uninspiring. They are serious about serious things — about God, about sin, about holiness, about joy. But they’re also humble and self-aware enough to not take themselves too seriously — to admit when they’re wrong, to focus on the needs and interests of others, to ask for help and learn from the wise, to regularly smile and laugh.

Because they are so strangely humble, stable, and Godward, the sober-minded stand out and inspire confidence, especially in societies on fire.

How to Become Sober-minded

So, what does God say sober-mindedness is, and how does he tell us to cultivate it? Where does it come from?

Sober-mindedness comes, it seems, not from focusing on sober-mindedness, but from regularly meditating on ultimate, all-important realities, and prayerfully striving to align our lives with them. To think and feel, act and speak, work and spend, love and serve, as if all that God is and says is true.

The apostle Peter mentions sober-mindedness three times (1 Peter 1:13; 4:7; 5:8), and all three are driving, in different ways, to that awareness of and awakeness to spiritual reality. He is pleading with tempted and tried believers not to be lulled into shallow, shortsighted, earthly ways of thinking and living. And those temptations are as real and powerful today as they were then. So, what realities was he reviving in their imaginations? What spiritual realities are we tempted to neglect or ignore?

We Were Bought with Blood

Few truths sober a soul like meditating on the broken, bloody body of Jesus on the cross. As Peter calls for sober-mindedness, he writes,

Preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, . . . conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1 Peter 1:13, 17–19)

How often does this eternity-altering reality drift from our imaginations? We were not bought with the wealth of nations, but with the wounds of love. The just, holy, innocent Son of God bore our griefs, carried our sorrows, and was crushed for our iniquities (Isaiah 53:4–5).

The Son of God really came in the flesh, really grew and lived sinlessly for three decades, really suffered unjustly under sinful men, really was condemned, tortured, and executed — all to bring us to God (1 Peter 3:18). The thorns in his head and nails in his flesh were driven into the deepest recesses of reality, promising life and healing to all who are found in him — and swearing awful, never-ending judgment on all who oppose him. All things will one day be tied together by and for the slaughtered and risen Lamb (Revelation 5:12; 13:8; Ephesians 1:10).

Do our lives bear the weight and hope of this reality: the Son of God was slain for us?

Our Enemy Devours Souls

The sober-minded also know that they live opposed, disrupted, hunted lives. They know they walk with Christ through a minefield of affliction and temptation. They know that their relationships can be the playgrounds of demons. They know their ministry shakes the foundations of hell — and awakens its fury. They have heeded the counsel, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). How watchful are we?

Many of us would be far more sober-minded if we took Satan more seriously — if we lived as if the whole earth still lies under his cruel and seductive sway (1 John 5:19), as if he really commands vast armies of spiritual darkness (Ephesians 6:12–13) as the god of this world (2 Corinthians 4:4). We cannot afford to underestimate or ignore him. To face reality, as a follower of Jesus, is to face the devil in battle each and every day.

Judgment Will Come

The sober-minded treat today as if the end will one day come — and soon. “The end of all things is at hand,” Peter writes, “therefore be self-controlled and sober-minded for the sake of your prayers” (1 Peter 4:7). This sobering thread weaves through all three passages in Peter (1 Peter 1:17; 5:10): when Christ returns — and he will return — judgment will fall.

Far too many of us live today as if today were not leading to eternity. We live out our stories as if someone had not already told us how it will end — how our earthly lives will end, how our nations and governments will end, how the earth itself will end. God is coming to judge, and no one will escape his gavel. We will either be judged in Christ and welcomed into paradise, or be judged apart from Christ and cast into the lake of fire. If you want to cultivate sober-mindedness today, spend less time (not no time) engulfed in the tasks and worries of today and more time thinking about that awful and glorious day to come.

Grace Will Overcome

Sober-mindedness, however, is not only an awakeness to the horrors of the cross, or the certainty of hell, or the wrath of judgment, but also to the soaring realities of life in Christ. “Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:13). The sober-minded are not sour or somber. They have set their hope fully — without hesitation or reservation — on the grace they will experience in the presence of Jesus.

Fascination with grace separates the sober-minded from the morose and cynical. Christians are not known for hopeless skepticism about sin and sorrow in the world. We do not grieve, suffer, or endure as those without hope. We grapple with reality, confront wickedness, weep with the weeping, and slay our own sin, all with surprising joy.

Why? “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11). No matter what hardships we face for now, grace has promised us full and forever satisfaction with Jesus. And that experience of grace, the foretastes of that unrivaled pleasure, make the sober-minded unexpectedly warm, winsome, and patient.

The Father Cares for Us

Grace secures our never-ending, ever-increasing joy by bringing us into the family of God. Even when Peter warns about judgment, he says,

If you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile. (1 Peter 1:17)

The sober-minded know that, whatever storms and valleys may come, they are not alone and they are not unloved. Whatever they suffer or endure, they suffer and endure as children of a good and sovereign Father. That is a sobering, and breathtaking, thought.

Later in the letter, Peter again calls believers to sober-mindedness, but not before encouraging them: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded . . .” (1 Peter 5:6–8). Our sober-mindedness is bathed in the love of a God who cares for us.

Yes, we’re awake to the harsher realities of life in a fallen world, but not without also being awake to the glories of having the boundless, attentive, burden-bearing heart of heaven. As realistic as we are about hardship, adversity, and spiritual warfare, we are all the more confident in the loving and unstoppable promises of our Father.

Loving One Another Is Hard

Relationships are where sober-mindedness, like every other virtue, really reveals and proves its worth. We will not know how sober-minded we are until our hearts rub against the fears, weaknesses, and sins of others. Will we be prepared to suffer, forgive, and forbear as all love requires?

“Be self-controlled and sober-minded,” Peter writes. “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:7–8). Again, he gives us a world of sobriety in just a few short words. If we seek to love one another well, we will encounter not just the occasional sin, but a multitude of sins. When we are hurt again and again, we will lose heart and hold back (which is why he says to love earnestly). And we will be tempted to give up and walk away (which is why he says to keep loving).

The sober-minded recognize and embrace the costs along the path of love. They expect to be disappointed, offended, and betrayed — and they keep loving anyway. They keep showing hospitality, even when it’s inconvenient (1 Peter 4:9). They keep speaking the truth in love, even when it would be easier to say nothing (1 Peter 4:11). They keep serving, even when it costs them far more than they receive (1 Peter 4:11).

Stay Awake

In the end, the call to sober-mindedness is a warning against spiritual sleepiness and laziness. “Let us not sleep, as others do,” the apostle Paul warns, “but let us keep awake and be sober” (1 Thessalonians 5:6). Sober-mindedness is awakeness to spiritual reality — to the bloody victory of the cross, to the murderous schemes of our enemy, to the unavoidable judgment, to the challenges of love and certainty of suffering, to the sovereign care of our Father and his ceaseless waves of mercy and grace. How real do those realities feel to you?

“Be on guard, keep awake,” Jesus himself says, “for you do not know when [the end] will come. . . . Therefore stay awake. . . . And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake” (Mark 13:33–37). We must recognize our proneness to tire and slumber, to lose sight of ultimate, all-important realities, and to instead fix our eyes all the more on what is real — to stay awake. That is, we must learn to be sober-minded.

[dfroza]

written down to instruct, to give us hope.

especially in a temporal and imperfect world where people strive to live, to find peace. but we all must face the reality of dying at some point in time, and only an act of rebirth allows us to pass on into the eternal. and we see this baptism of the heart (in the Spirit) in Today’s reading of the Scriptures beginning with the first chapter of the book of Acts:

[To the Ends of the World]

Dear Theophilus, in the first volume of this book I wrote on everything that Jesus began to do and teach until the day he said good-bye to the apostles, the ones he had chosen through the Holy Spirit, and was taken up to heaven. After his death, he presented himself alive to them in many different settings over a period of forty days. In face-to-face meetings, he talked to them about things concerning the kingdom of God. As they met and ate meals together, he told them that they were on no account to leave Jerusalem but “must wait for what the Father promised: the promise you heard from me. John baptized in water; you will be baptized in the Holy Spirit. And soon.”

When they were together for the last time they asked, “Master, are you going to restore the kingdom to Israel now? Is this the time?”

He told them, “You don’t get to know the time. Timing is the Father’s business. What you’ll get is the Holy Spirit. And when the Holy Spirit comes on you, you will be able to be my witnesses in Jerusalem, all over Judea and Samaria, even to the ends of the world.”

These were his last words. As they watched, he was taken up and disappeared in a cloud. They stood there, staring into the empty sky. Suddenly two men appeared—in white robes! They said, “You Galileans!—why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky? This very Jesus who was taken up from among you to heaven will come as certainly—and mysteriously—as he left.”

[Returning to Jerusalem]

So they left the mountain called Olives and returned to Jerusalem. It was a little over half a mile. They went to the upper room they had been using as a meeting place:

Peter,

John,

James,

Andrew,

Philip,

Thomas,

Bartholomew,

Matthew,

James, son of Alphaeus,

Simon the Zealot,

Judas, son of James.

They agreed they were in this for good, completely together in prayer, the women included. Also Jesus’ mother, Mary, and his brothers.

[Replacing Judas]

During this time, Peter stood up in the company—there were about 120 of them in the room at the time—and said, “Friends, long ago the Holy Spirit spoke through David regarding Judas, who became the guide to those who arrested Jesus. That Scripture had to be fulfilled, and now has been. Judas was one of us and had his assigned place in this ministry.

“As you know, he took the evil bribe money and bought a small farm. There he came to a bad end, rupturing his belly and spilling his guts. Everybody in Jerusalem knows this by now; they call the place Murder Meadow. It’s exactly what we find written in the Psalms:

Let his farm become haunted

So no one can ever live there.

“And also what was written later:

Let someone else take over his post.

“Judas must now be replaced. The replacement must come from the company of men who stayed together with us from the time Jesus was baptized by John up to the day of his ascension, designated along with us as a witness to his resurrection.”

They nominated two: Joseph Barsabbas, nicknamed Justus, and Matthias. Then they prayed, “You, O God, know every one of us inside and out. Make plain which of these two men you choose to take the place in this ministry and leadership that Judas threw away in order to go his own way.” They then drew straws. Matthias won and was counted in with the eleven apostles.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 1 (The Message)

A chapter paired with Micah 6 in my daily reading of a chapter from each Testament of the Bible:

[What God Is Looking For]

Listen now, listen to God:

“Take your stand in court.

If you have a complaint, tell the mountains;

make your case to the hills.

And now, Mountains, hear God’s case;

listen, Jury Earth—

For I am bringing charges against my people.

I am building a case against Israel.

“Dear people, how have I done you wrong?

Have I burdened you, worn you out? Answer!

I delivered you from a bad life in Egypt;

I paid a good price to get you out of slavery.

I sent Moses to lead you—

and Aaron and Miriam to boot!

Remember what Balak king of Moab tried to pull,

and how Balaam son of Beor turned the tables on him.

Remember all those stories about Shittim and Gilgal.

Keep all God’s salvation stories fresh and present.”

How can I stand up before God

and show proper respect to the high God?

Should I bring an armload of offerings

topped off with yearling calves?

Would God be impressed with thousands of rams,

with buckets and barrels of olive oil?

Would he be moved if I sacrificed my firstborn child,

my precious baby, to cancel my sin?

But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do,

what God is looking for in men and women.

It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,

be compassionate and loyal in your love,

And don’t take yourself too seriously—

take God seriously.

Attention! God calls out to the city!

If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen.

So listen, all of you!

This is serious business.

“Do you expect me to overlook obscene wealth

you’ve piled up by cheating and fraud?

Do you think I’ll tolerate shady deals

and shifty scheming?

I’m tired of the violent rich

bullying their way with bluffs and lies.

I’m fed up. Beginning now, you’re finished.

You’ll pay for your sins down to your last cent.

No matter how much you get, it will never be enough—

hollow stomachs, empty hearts.

No matter how hard you work, you’ll have nothing to show for it—

bankrupt lives, wasted souls.

You’ll plant grass

but never get a lawn.

You’ll make jelly

but never spread it on your bread.

You’ll press apples

but never drink the cider.

You have lived by the standards of your king, Omri,

the decadent lifestyle of the family of Ahab.

Because you’ve slavishly followed their fashions,

I’m forcing you into bankruptcy.

Your way of life will be laughed at, a tasteless joke.

Your lives will be derided as futile and fake.”

The Book of Micah, Chapter 6 (The Message)

accompanied by Today’s reading of the Psalms and Proverbs for december 28 (Psalm 28 and Proverbs 28), the 8th day of Winter (Psalm 8) and day 362 of the year (Psalm 62) with the book of 150 Psalms now in its 3rd revolution this year:

[Psalm 62]

Unshakable Faith

To the Pure and Shining One

King David’s melody of love’s celebration

I stand silently to listen for the one I love,

waiting as long as it takes for the Lord to rescue me.

For God alone has become my Savior.

He alone is my safe place;

his wrap-around presence always protects me.

For he is my champion defender;

there’s no risk of failure with God.

So why would I let worry paralyze me,

even when troubles multiply around me?

But look at these who want me dead,

shouting their vicious threats at me!

The moment they discover my weakness

they all begin plotting to take me down.

Liars, hypocrites, with nothing good to say.

All of their energies are spent

on moving me from this exalted place.

Pause in his presence

I am standing in absolute stillness, silent before the one I love,

waiting as long as it takes for him to rescue me.

Only God is my Savior, and he will not fail me.

For he alone is my safe place.

His wrap-around presence always protects me

as my champion defender.

There’s no risk of failure with God!

So why would I let worry paralyze me,

even when troubles multiply around me?

God’s glory is all around me!

His wrap-around presence is all I need,

for the Lord is my Savior, my hero, and my life-giving strength.

Join me, everyone! Trust only in God every moment!

Tell him all your troubles and pour out your heart-longings to him.

Believe me when I tell you—he will help you!

Pause in his presence

Before God all the people of the earth, high or low,

are like smoke that disappears,

like a vapor that quickly vanishes away.

Compared to God they’re nothing but vanity, nothing at all!

The wealth of the world is nothing to God.

So if your wealth increases, don’t be boastful or

put your trust in your money.

And don’t you think for a moment that

you can get away with stealing by overcharging others

just to get more for yourself!

God said to me once and for all,

“All the strength and power you need flows from me!”

And again I heard it clearly said,

“All the love you need is found in me!”

And it’s true that you repay people for what they do.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 62 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 28]

A David Psalm

Don’t turn a deaf ear

when I call you, God.

If all I get from you is

deafening silence,

I’d be better off

in the Black Hole.

I’m letting you know what I need,

calling out for help

And lifting my arms

toward your inner sanctum.

Don’t shove me into

the same jail cell with those crooks,

With those who are

full-time employees of evil.

They talk a good line of “peace,”

then moonlight for the Devil.

Pay them back for what they’ve done,

for how bad they’ve been.

Pay them back for their long hours

in the Devil’s workshop;

Then cap it with a huge bonus.

Because they have no idea how God works

or what he is up to,

God will smash them to smithereens

and walk away from the ruins.

Blessed be God—

he heard me praying.

He proved he’s on my side;

I’ve thrown my lot in with him.

Now I’m jumping for joy,

and shouting and singing my thanks to him.

God is all strength for his people,

ample refuge for his chosen leader;

Save your people

and bless your heritage.

Care for them;

carry them like a good shepherd.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 28 (The Message)

[Psalm 8]

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by the harp.

O Eternal, our Lord,

Your majestic name is heard throughout the earth;

Your magnificent glory shines far above the skies.

From the mouths and souls of infants and toddlers, the most innocent,

You have decreed power to stop Your adversaries

and quash those who seek revenge.

When I gaze to the skies and meditate on Your creation—

on the moon, stars, and all You have made,

I can’t help but wonder why You care about mortals—

sons and daughters of men—

specks of dust floating about the cosmos.

But You placed the son of man just beneath God

and honored him like royalty, crowning him with glory and honor.

You ordained him to govern the works of Your hands,

to nurture the offspring of Your divine imagination;

You placed everything on earth beneath his feet:

All kinds of domesticated animals,

even the wild animals in the fields and forests,

The birds of the sky and the fish of the sea,

all the multitudes of living things that travel the currents of the oceans.

O Eternal, our Lord,

Your majestic name is heard throughout the earth.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 8 (The Voice)

[Proverbs 28]

The wicked run away even when no one is chasing them; the right-living, however, stand their ground as boldly as lions.

Where there is rebellion in a land, there are many petty and contending rulers; But where there is a wise and intelligent leader, peace and order endure.

A poor person who oppresses others who are poor is like a driving rain that destroys the crops and leaves no food.

Those who turn their backs on God’s teaching applaud the wicked, while those who observe His instruction oppose them at every turn.

Evil people are not able to understand justice, but those who pursue the Eternal understand it completely.

It is better to be a pauper walking in integrity than a dishonest man, even if he is rich.

Whoever follows God’s teaching is a wise child, but the one who spends time with gluttons and drunks disgraces his parents.

Anyone who increases his wealth by charging a high rate of interest is only collecting it for another who will deal more liberally with the poor.

The one who turns his ear from hearing God’s instruction will find that even his prayers are detestable to God.

Whoever tries to deceive a good person into taking the path of evil will fall into the pit he himself made, but the truly honest shall be the heirs of all that is good.

A rich man may be wise in his own sight, but a perceptive pauper will see right through him.

There is much glory when just men celebrate; but when the wicked gain power, people take cover.

Whoever tries to hide his sins will not succeed, but the one who confesses his sins and leaves them behind will find mercy.

Happy is the one who always fears the Lord, but the person who hardens his heart to God falls into misfortune.

Like a roaring lion or a charging bear, so is a wicked man ruling over an impoverished people.

A leader who lacks intelligence cruelly oppresses the people, but one who hates corruption will prosper and live a long life.

A man guilty of murder is a fugitive, fleeing to the nearest hole in the ground but not escaping death’s cold pit. Don’t do anything to save him.

Whoever walks in honesty will be safe, but whoever travels the crooked path will suddenly fall.

Whoever cultivates his land will have plenty of food in the harvest, but whoever cultivates worthless ventures will have poverty in abundance.

A reliable person will not escape blessings, but one who wants to get rich quick will not escape trouble.

Showing favoritism is not good; some will desert the truth for a measly crust of bread.

A greedy person is in a hurry to get rich, but he is ignorant of the loss that is about to overtake him.

A person who offers constructive criticism will, in the end, be appreciated more than a person who engages in empty flattery.

One who robs his father or his mother and says, “There’s nothing wrong with that! I had it coming!” walks in the company of murderers.

When the greedy want more, they stir up trouble; but when a person trusts in the Eternal, he’s sure to prosper.

Anyone who puts confidence only in himself is a fool, but the person who follows wisdom will be kept safe.

Whoever gives to the poor will have what he needs, but the one who shuts his eyes to their plight will face curse after curse.

When the wicked have the upper hand, people go into hiding; but when they perish, the good folk will begin to increase.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 28 (The Voice)

[sweetsunrayssr]

Max, the stray cat

“Many men have played a role in Nassau's story, but none have been able to break the cycle of brutality and failure. Your granddaughter came as close  as anyone before or since. But at the end of the day and despite her best intentions, there was one truth even she was unable to see. That at some point, progress cannot begin and suffering will not end until someone has the courage to go out into the woods and drown the damned cat.” (Max to Grandma Guthrie, XXXV, 4x07)

We know what Grandma Guthrie did with Richard Guthrie’s tomcat. And certainly 4x07 had the plot guns veering into the direction to aim for Flint. But is that the sole cat in focus, or is there another stray cat who was saved by a Guthrie so many times? There is: Max.

Remember those fairytales where an envious friend/sister/chambermaid abused the trust and generosity of a female lead character, procured her posessions, status and power, displaced the trusting soul by manipulating her? Right at the end of the story this social climbing deceiver is asked by a powerful ruler who suspects her of wrongdoing how she would punish someone who committed such crimes. And after the deceiver answers with a death sentence, she is demasked and executed in the manner she offered.

The whole scene between Grandma Guthrie and Max has that same foreshadowing vibe. The entire focus is on Max revealing bit by bit something about herself, including her unwillingness to answer certain questions that are dangerously close. It appears that Grandma Guthrie is not unsympathetic towards Max, but I would wager it is pure appearance alone. Grandma Guthrie is doing needle-point the entire conversation, something that visually connects her to Eleanor who was learning in 4x01 to look the part, to play her role. In other words, Grandma Guthrie is pretending here, playing a part, playing a role, including being sympathetic to Max. Eleanor was taught needle-point by her spying chambermaid. Grandma Guthrie was spying earlier in the day, when Rackham sought an audience with Grandpa Guthrie. She is observing and assessing Max in the later scene, like a spy.

Now let’s inspect some very relevant and pointed questions from Grandma Guthrie

“So, Richard would feed the tomcat  and Joseph would flog him for disobeying,  kick the tomcat for instigating. But the next night, the tomcat would return,  and on and on and on it went. See, none of them was capable of changing. The cat a slave to his hunger, my son to his decency, my husband to his rage. [...] Suppose the question is in Nassau's story, which of these roles do you play?” 

Grandma Guthrie stresses that none of them was capable of changing their nature. One can grow, one can pretend to play a role, but the nature to hunger to be given power/wealth, the nature to rescue and the nature to rage is an unchangeable instinct that returns over and over. And in Nassau’s story, Max was a stray cat, while Eleanor was repeatedly her savior: from Charles Vane, from Mr. Hammond and his colleagues, Woodes, Berringer, the pirates.

What was Max’s response to this? She blamed Eleanor for the Ranger crew raping her and remained with her rapists. She stole leads and gave them to Ned Low. She got her hands on Eleanor’s business.

Not so coincidentally Eleanor’s needle-point scene has Max being alarmed how much they are changing, with Eleanor responding that nothing important or fundamental would change quickly. And it did not.

Max managed to manipulate Eleanor into holding Vane’s trial on the island, to manipulate her into believing Nassau was lost and that Eleanor and Woodes alone were to blame for it, to guilt trip her into Max losing everything (though she arrived with nothing and all she owned was Eleanor’s business she had undermined and bought cheaply). And Eleanor kept feeding her stray cat Max.

Max never answers Grandma Guthrie’s question about the role she played in Nassau’s story. But notice how Grandma said the cat was a slave to hunger. That was a deliberate word choice of hers to a woman who obviously had some slave origin.

Richard and Eleanor’s roles in Nassau’s story of Black Sails were those of saviors. In Richard Guthrie’s office in 1x01 Billy eyes a painting strangely: it’s a painting of beheaded John the Baptist, the man who heralds the coming of the savior who ends up on the cross or martyred. Richard is found murdered by Vane on a cross in S2, where earlier Ned Low was beheaded by Vane. Eleanor pretty much dies as the villified martyr, majorly because of Woodes’ choice, Woodes who also had Blackbeard beheaded. 

Grandma Guthrie: “So, how exactly does one rise  from a slave plantation in the French West Indies to a library in Philadelphia, trying to remake the world?” 

Max: What difference does it make?    

Max’s evasion and Grandma Guthrie’s dagger look suggests that it makes quite a lot of difference. Eleanor’s grandmother is on to Max, or very soon will be.

What reason could Grandma Guthrie possibly have to “drown Max, the cat”? Woodes Rogers gives us a hint earlier in the episode.

“Eleanor turned her guns on me. Eleanor betrayed me. Surrendered Nassau out from under me. None of that sounded like anything that would ever occur to her to do. Not her. Not after everything we'd been through.  But if it had occurred first to someone else [...] Someone standing so close to her,  who could and would manipulate her to secure their own survival.”  (Woodes to Mrs. Hudson, 4x07)

Ding-dong! Not Mrs. Hudson, but Max was close to Eleanor. She throws a pity-party over all she lost, blames Eleanor and Woodes. Eleanor apologizes and makes emotional amends by revealing she loved Max enough that she wanted to say yes in 1x02.

“I truly am sorry. For all of it. If there was a way I could make things right here, I'd do it.” (Eleanor to Max, 4x04)

Shortly after Woodes Rogers appears in the bay with the Man O War and Eleanor beames with love and relief. And she gives Lieutenant Utley the orders to move the guns in the direction of the beach.

And then Max decides to remind Eleanor of what she is willing to do, to make it right again for her.

Afterwards, Eleanor sends an invite to Flint and Silver and proposes the fated cache-exchange deal.

Eleanor obviously saw it as a way for Woodes to repay his debts, rather than give it to Spain. Spain and England are at war. He could have legally regarded it as a war prize. Woodes suspects Mrs. Hudson and Eleanor had a deal. But Eleanor needed no such deal to relieve Mrs. Hudson, and Mrs. Hudson would have helped her regardless her plan. There was a deal between Max and Eleanor: Eleanor promised to give a portion of the cache to Max.

When the Spanish fleet arrives, Eleanor is at the beach at the other side of the island to retrieve the cache. While the rest of the council is unwilling to try and retrieve Eleanor, Max flies to the site with ONE HORSE, not two, not a cart, but ONE HORSE for HERSELF. More importantly, as self-sacrificing it seems of Max to ride to Eleanor’s rescue and Eleanor’s whereabout is all that Max is interested in when she finds Rackham on the beach, she easily abandons Eleanor to her fate and boards the governor’s sloop that Rackham captured. Something is very off here. It just doesn’t add up at first sight.

The key is that Max is not phased, not disturbed about Eleanor in the interior during the discussions between Mr. Frasier and Mr. Soames on whether to defend themselves or surrender to the Spanish, until Lieutenant Utley informs them that the lead ship just sent the governor’s signal and ordered them to stand down.

And she shows signs of extreme nervousness and fear the moment Mr. Soames decides they will follow Woodes’ orders.

So what about it being Woodes behind the Spanish fleet coming upsets her more than the Spanish fleet arriving without Woodes? It meant that Woodes intended to give that cache to the Spanish. On top of that Berringer had accused her of treason, and while Eleanor might have protected her from Berringer, she would be unable to protect Max from Woodes, especially since her closest associates Featherstone and Idelle were with the pirates. It was game over for Max, and she raced on horseback to Eleanor to get her portion of the cache at least, hoping to inform Eleanor of Woodes bringing Spain and hide in a cave or take a boat, likely with the intent to convince Eleanor into leaving with her.

Max did not go to the beach for Eleanor, but herself, for the cache, so she would have something “to show for”. And so when no Eleanor, no cache, she joined Rackham to the ship, making no effort at all.

In a way, Max is likewise responsible for Eleanor’s death. And this is something that Grandma Guthrie would not like.

Which brings us to the last question by Grandma Guthrie to Max:

“But there is one question remaining  that you will have to show me you can adequately answer. What will you do when the cat fights back?”

As Grandma Guthrie has not yet made any demand here about Flint, the cat can be seen as Nassau, but certainly Woodes. What happens to Max if Woodes is arrested and taken to Philadelphia and learns of Max’s involvement? What happens if Woodes fights back, connects the dots and accuses her of putting ideas into Eleanor’s mind that forced him to get Spanish help and all her “treason” before that? Hence, Max pronounced her own demise to Grandma Guthrie when she suggested to drown the cat.

ETA: I’m not trying to point out that Max does not mourn Eleanor. I’m not saying she does not care for Eleanor. But that there is far more self-interest (and a material one at that) in Max’s motivations and behavior, especially in S4. I don’t think ill of Max looking after herself more than the ex-lover wedded to another. I’m only pointing out that Max did manipulate Eleanor into choosing to do more for her than she was wiling to do in return, and it set recent chain reaction events in motion with deadly outcome. I don’t see Grandma Guthrie particularly shrug that off plot-wise, especially when Max uses the emotional angle of “revengeon the person that got your granddaughter killed.” Grandma Guthrie proved to have a larger scope than just the obvious link to Eleanor’s death by wanting Flint taken out.

[dailychapel]

Lord, please heal my broken heart. Fill me with the peace and joy I know can only come from You during this hard time. Walk closely beside me during my journey to healing and recovery that I know is possible through Your power alone. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

[Psa 52:1-9 NLT] 1 For the choir director: A psalm of David, regarding the time Doeg the Edomite said to Saul, "David has gone to see Ahimelech." Why do you boast about your crimes, great warrior? Don't you realize God's justice continues forever? 2 All day long you plot destruction. Your tongue cuts like a sharp razor; you're an expert at telling lies. 3 You love evil more than good and lies more than truth. Interlude 4 You love to destroy others with your words, you liar! 5 But God will strike you down once and for all. He will pull you from your home and uproot you from the land of the living. Interlude 6 The righteous will see it and be amazed. They will laugh and say, 7 "Look what happens to mighty warriors who do not trust in God. They trust their wealth instead and grow more and more bold in their wickedness." 8 But I am like an olive tree, thriving in the house of God. I will always trust in God's unfailing love. 9 I will praise you forever, O God, for what you have done. I will trust in your good name in the presence of your faithful people.

[Deu 13:1-11 NLT] 1 "Suppose there are prophets among you or those who dream dreams about the future, and they promise you signs or miracles, 2 and the predicted signs or miracles occur. If they then say, 'Come, let us worship other gods'--gods you have not known before-- 3 do not listen to them. The LORD your God is testing you to see if you truly love him with all your heart and soul. 4 Serve only the LORD your God and fear him alone. Obey his commands, listen to his voice, and cling to him. 5 The false prophets or visionaries who try to lead you astray must be put to death, for they encourage rebellion against the LORD your God, who redeemed you from slavery and brought you out of the land of Egypt. Since they try to lead you astray from the way the LORD your God commanded you to live, you must put them to death. In this way you will purge the evil from among you. 6 "Suppose someone secretly entices you--even your brother, your son or daughter, your beloved wife, or your closest friend--and says, 'Let us go worship other gods'--gods that neither you nor your ancestors have known. 7 They might suggest that you worship the gods of peoples who live nearby or who come from the ends of the earth. 8 But do not give in or listen. Have no pity, and do not spare or protect them. 9 You must put them to death! Strike the first blow yourself, and then all the people must join in. 10 Stone the guilty ones to death because they have tried to draw you away from the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt, the place of slavery. 11 Then all Israel will hear about it and be afraid, and no one will act so wickedly again.

[Act 7:1-16 NLT] 1 Then the high priest asked Stephen, "Are these accusations true?" 2 This was Stephen's reply: "Brothers and fathers, listen to me. Our glorious God appeared to our ancestor Abraham in Mesopotamia before he settled in Haran. 3 God told him, 'Leave your native land and your relatives, and come into the land that I will show you.' 4 So Abraham left the land of the Chaldeans and lived in Haran until his father died. Then God brought him here to the land where you now live. 5 "But God gave him no inheritance here, not even one square foot of land. God did promise, however, that eventually the whole land would belong to Abraham and his descendants--even though he had no children yet. 6 God also told him that his descendants would live in a foreign land, where they would be oppressed as slaves for 400 years. 7 'But I will punish the nation that enslaves them,' God said, 'and in the end they will come out and worship me here in this place.' 8 "God also gave Abraham the covenant of circumcision at that time. So when Abraham became the father of Isaac, he circumcised him on the eighth day. And the practice was continued when Isaac became the father of Jacob, and when Jacob became the father of the twelve patriarchs of the Israelite nation. 9 "These patriarchs were jealous of their brother Joseph, and they sold him to be a slave in Egypt. But God was with him 10 and rescued him from all his troubles. And God gave him favor before Pharaoh, king of Egypt. God also gave Joseph unusual wisdom, so that Pharaoh appointed him governor over all of Egypt and put him in charge of the palace. 11 "But a famine came upon Egypt and Canaan. There was great misery, and our ancestors ran out of food. 12 Jacob heard that there was still grain in Egypt, so he sent his sons--our ancestors--to buy some. 13 The second time they went, Joseph revealed his identity to his brothers, and they were introduced to Pharaoh. 14 Then Joseph sent for his father, Jacob, and all his relatives to come to Egypt, seventy-five persons in all. 15 So Jacob went to Egypt. He died there, as did our ancestors. 16 Their bodies were taken to Shechem and buried in the tomb Abraham had bought for a certain price from Hamor's sons in Shechem.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, send us out with confidence in your word, to tell the world of your saving acts, and bring glory to your name. Amen.

[johnchiarello]

Acts 1

ACTS 1 Acts 1:8 But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth. https://youtu.be/7UqPubfdyTM Acts 1 https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2017/01/1-12-17-acts-1.zip ON VIDEO- .The Jesus movement .Is it just a ‘story’? .Act’s proven to be historically accurate .How? .Industrial revolution leads to field of archeology .We found stuff .field of documentary evidence arose- .That proved it too .Sir Ramsey changed his mind .Church in world history .Descartes- Copernicus- etc. .Acts- .Jesus ascends .Wait for the promise of the Father .Judas replaced .Power is on the way .History- .early 20th century- Spirit comes to Azusa .Then at Duquesne University .Catholics get it too .Charismatic movement PAST TEACHING [below are my past links/teaching I did that relate to today’s video- ACTS 1] https://ccoutreach87.com/john-complete-links-added/ https://ccoutreach87.com/overview-of-philosophy/ [Mentioned Aristotle and Plato on today’s video- Here’s my past teaching on them] https://ccoutreach87.com/acts/ https://ccoutreach87.com/atheism-apologetics-links-added/ ACTS study Introduction; Yesterday I took my kids to the mall after church, I usually get lost in the book store. Even though I bought an entire shelf of books a few months back, I still can’t help from buying more books! So I picked up a few more and found a comfortable bench and started reading the History of Christianity. At the house I am almost thru with another ‘history of Christianity’ that covers the story of the church from Pentecost to the present day. I own a few complete volumes and have checked out many from the libraries over the years. I read from both the Protestant and Catholic [Orthodox] perspectives. I also read from the ‘out of the institutional church’ perspective. These are the histories of various groups of believers who never became Catholic, Orthodox or Protestant. I consider all these groups Christian and appreciate the tremendous wealth of knowledge that these communities provide. Now, as we go thru Acts, I want to stay as close as possible to both the doctrine and practices of the early church as seen in scripture. We are not the first [or last!] study that has attempted to do this. That is attempted to ‘get back to the original design’ as much as possible. Historically you have whole categories of believers who fit into this mindset. They are referred to as ‘Restorationist’ as opposed to Catholic, Protestant or Orthodox. The Church of Christ, The Disciples of Christ, the Anabaptists and others fall into this class. I believe you find true believers in all of these groups. As you read the history of Christianity as told by the other perspectives, you will find it interesting as to the way the institutional church describes these ‘out of church’ groups. Some are called heretics [Waldensians] others are simply seen as fringe groups. The strong institutional church has branded those who would reject her authority as schismatics and heretics on the grounds of their refusal to submit to the hierarchy of the institutional church. As we go thru Acts, I want us to read carefully and see the story as told by Luke. We will not find ‘another more true group’ in the sense that I want to start some new denomination. I also don’t want to simply find proof texts to justify doctrine. Many well meaning believers can find the verses they like the most and use them to combat the other points of view. We will see verses emphasizing the importance of water baptism, or various truths on the outworkings of the Spirit. We will see prophets functioning and read texts that clearly teach Gods sovereignty [as many as were ordained unto eternal life believed]. Instead of getting lost on these side trails, I want us to read with an open mind and allow our beliefs to be shaped by ‘the story’. I will spend time defending my own view of Local church. Not because I believe ‘my view’ is the only thing worth arguing about, but because I believe we see the intent of God for his people to be a living community of believers in this book. Right off the bat we will see giving taught in a radical way. The early church at Jerusalem will ‘continue in the Apostles doctrine and breaking of bread and prayers’. They then sell their goods and distribute to all who had need. Where in the world did they get this idea from? The Apostles doctrine obviously taught the plain teachings from Jesus on sharing what you have with others. So instead of seeing an early tithe concept, you see an early ‘give to those in need idea’ straight from the teachings of Jesus. We will see this early Jerusalem group meet daily, as opposed to seeing ‘Sunday worship’ as some sort of New Testament Sabbath. Of course this group will meet at the Temple [actually an out door courtyard called Solomon’s Porch] and from ‘house to house’. But the simple realty of Christ’s Spirit being poured out on them as a community of people will be the basic understanding of what ‘church’ is. You will find citizens of many surrounding areas going back to the their home towns after Pentecost. These believers shared the gospel with those in their regions and this is how the early church would spread. Some commentaries will show you how when Paul will eventually show up in Rome there already was an established church there. They obviously heard the gospel from these early Roman Jews who were at Jerusalem during Pentecost. So we will see ‘church planting’ from the paradigm of simple believers going to areas with the message of Christ. Those who would believe in these locations would be described as ‘the church at Corinth’ or ‘the church at Ephesus’ and so on. So we see ‘local church’ as communities of believers living in different localities. We will see the development of leadership along the lines of ‘appoint elders in every city’. Not a top heavy idea of ‘Bishop’ in the later sense of Catholic belief, but a simple ordaining [recognizing!] of those in the various cities who were stable enough in the basic truths of the gospel, that in Paul’s absence these elders were to be trusted as spiritual guides. Now, many of our brothers can trace the historic office of Bishop as a fairly early development in church history. Polycarp and others were considered direct disciples of the Apostles who would be seen as Bishops and even write of the importance of Bishops for the church ‘Where there is no Bishop there is no church’. This will cause many well meaning believers to eventually become Catholic/Orthodox as they read the church fathers and see the very early development of Catholic Christianity. In many of the church fathers writings you will also see an early belief in the Eucharist as being the actual Body and Blood of Jesus. To the consternation of many Protestants you even find Luther condemning fellow Protestants for not taking literally the words of Jesus ‘this IS my Body’. Now, I will not defend transubstantiation, but try to follow the trend lines in Acts as to the lack of this doctrine being a part of the early church. We will find Paul’s letter to the Corinthians addressing the Lords Supper, but for the most part we do not see a strong belief in the transmitting of divine grace to the soul thru the eating of Christ’s literal Body and Blood as they ‘broke bread’. We do see the sharing of the common meal and the ‘Eucharist’ as one meal called the ‘love feast’. Only later on in church history is there a division made between the full fellowship meal and the Eucharist. So to be frank about it, I will challenge both our Catholic and Orthodox brothers on some very fundamental beliefs. Well I hope this brief introduction sets the proper tone for the rest of this study, God bless you guys and I hope you get something out of it. John.

(738) ACTS 1- Luke, the writer of this book, feels the need to document the ongoing work of Jesus and his revolution. He already wrote a gospel and believes this to be the beginning of the story. In essence, the reality of Jesus and his resurrection are just the start, we have much more to do and become on this journey. Most writers jump to chapter 2. We have churches and music groups called ‘Acts chapter 2’. Why does Luke seem to wait till chapter 2 before getting to ‘the good stuff’? Chapter one records the 40 days of Jesus showing himself alive after his death. Luke feels this singular truth to be important enough to simply stand alone [I do realize the early letters did not have chapter and verse divisions like today]. The real physical fact of Jesus bodily resurrection is without a doubt the foundational truth of the gospel. The outpouring of the Spirit and the whole future of the church depends on the reality of the resurrected Christ. Paul will write the Corinthians and tell them if the resurrection were not true then they are the most miserable of all people. Luke tells us Jesus gave instructions for the Apostles to wait at Jerusalem for the Spirit. They will be witnesses of him to all the surrounding nations after the Spirit empowers them. We also see Peter emerge as the key spokesman for the group. He quotes freely from the Psalms and reads their own history into the book. He sees the prophetic verse from David on ‘let another take his office’ as referring to Judas betrayal and death. They cast lots and choose Matthias as the one to replace Judas. Peter shows the importance of Judas replacement to come from one that was with them thru out the earthly time of Jesus. Someone who saw and witnessed Jesus after the resurrection. Scholars have confused this with the ‘ascension gift Apostles’. Some scholars have taken the truth of the early Apostles having the criteria of being actual witnesses of Jesus, and have said ‘therefore, you have no Apostles today’. Paul will teach in Ephesians that after Jesus ascension on high he gave gifts unto men ‘some Apostles, others Prophets, etc.’ The New Testament clearly speaks of Apostles as an ongoing gift in the church. Barnabas will later be called an Apostles [Acts 14:14] as well as many other references in the original Greek using the same Greek word for Apostle. But here we find Peter seeing the need to replace Judas. Other scholars think Peter might have jumped the gun. They see Paul’s apostleship as the possible person the Lord picked out as the replacement. You do find Paul referring time and again to his Apostolic authority as one ‘born out of due time’ who saw Jesus on the Damascus road. If Paul was simply an ascension gift Apostle, why would he refer time and again to his authority based on being a witness who also saw Jesus? It’s possible that Paul was in this group of ‘Apostles of the Lamb’ who had extra authority based upon their testimony of being eyewitnesses. So in chapter one we see that Jesus appeared for 40 days giving instructions to the early leadership and told them to wait at Jerusalem for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. We see the incarnational purpose of God, Jesus was and continues to be the express image of God to man. He was not some ‘phantom’ like the Docetists will claim, but a very real physical resurrected Lord. Luke begins the early history of the church with this reality being important enough to stand on its own. [parts] (1357) I WILL UNCOVER THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN HIDDEN SINCE THE WORLDS FIRST DAY- [Jesus]. Yesterday I read an article in the paper that talked about an amazing dinosaur find in China; they found around 15 thousand fossils in a cave area. The amazing thing was the fact that so many dinosaurs would have been in one place right when they died. I immediately saw this as proof that would back up the creationist cataclysmic view of a worldwide flood destroying all life on the planet. As I read thru the article they explained how much of ‘fossil science’ has been done thru finds in the U.S., but over the last few years China [and the eastern world in general] have undergone their own industrial revolution and this has led to the unearthing of new ground for the purpose of construction and these new projects are unearthing these fossils. Much like what took place in the 19th century when many archaeologists were discovering ‘hidden things’ that seemed to be buried ‘since the foundation of the world’. In the 19th century it was popular for the intellectuals in theology to embrace the ‘historical/critical’ method of bible learning. Many began to reject the early dating of the New Testament [early- a.d. 50-70] and began accepting a theory that said much of the New Testament was written in the 2nd century. These ideas were promoted by men like Rudolph Bultman and were made popular at the German university which he taught at [in Marburg]. So it became ‘intellectually fashionable’ to accept this new way of critiquing scripture. One problem- as the industrial revolution took off in the west archeology rose as a new science and we now had the ability to historically search for clues. A famous historian by the name of Sir Ramsey went on this exhibition to see whether or not the bible was accurate when it spoke about ‘so called’ first century things. Our bibles do have lots of names of political characters and certain historical events that can be measured for accuracy. Ramsey found to his dismay that all the evidence leaned towards the ‘less enlightened’ view of an early dating of the New Testament. This was a tough pill to swallow by the intellectuals who had already formed their opinions on the subject, but in due time most trustworthy scholars would come to accept [for the most part] the earlier dating. So now back to the dinosaurs, as the article went on they admitted that it’s possible that a Tsunami might have caused the dinosaurs to gather in one place before their deaths- A FLOOD! It’s funny because some in the modern scientific community have argued, very convincingly, that the Geologic table and the extinction of the dinosaurs can be attributed to a world wide flood. Others have vehemently opposed this idea [most evolutionists]. And now the new evidence seems to be backing up a flood theory, they simply don’t want to admit it. Like the intellectuals of Sir Ramsey’s day, the smart thing to do is to go where the evidence leads. The facts don’t lie; these are ‘facts’ that are being now uncovered, things hidden ‘since the world’s first day’. [parts] HISTORY OF EVERYTHING- IN 1 HOUR And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie: That they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness. … 2nd Thes. 2:10-13

https://youtu.be/uwDi82SICXo History of everything in 1 hour [part 1] https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/6-16-16-history-of-everything.zip ON VIDEO- .Did my ‘prophecy’ come true? Watch and see .They said a rocket hit the plane .What did Patience say? .Update on detention center .Bishop Mulvey .I was right about Devon Anderson- planned parenthood- the judge said she broke the law .Where did the animals come from? .Is the story true? Mesopotamia .Palestine .Aristotle .They were looking for the ‘LOGOS’ .Ptolemy .Copernicus .Cosmology .Scientific/Industrial revolution .Sir Ramsey and documentary evidence .Luke/Acts as historical evidence .Phenomenological language .Aquinas- Anselm and Augustine .Richard Dawkins alien creator .Einstein and the big bang .C.S. Lewis .Everything is proof of God MY LINKS- https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/overview-of-philosophy/ https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/protestant-reformation-luther/ https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/qm/ [parts] (766) Let me interrupt our Judges study a little. Right now [2008] there is another renewal/revival movement taking place in Florida [Lakeland]. The brother who was used as the ‘fire starter’ is Todd Bentley. I have tried to catch the services on T.V. and appreciate the presence of the Lord. Of course you can go on line and read terrible stuff about the revival. Once again some are 100 % against it, others are a little too exaggerated in their language in defense of it. What I mean is it’s easy to see a move of God and believe ‘this is the final move that will out do all other moves in the history of the church’ the ‘latter glory’ if you will. Let’s do a little history on moves of God. The present Pentecostal movement started at the beginning of the last century [for the most part]. You had a brother by the name of Charles Parham in Topeka, Kansas who had this little bible school. One day they experienced an unusual event. Gods Spirit fell on the students and they all ‘began to speak in other languages’. Now, to those who reject the modern gift of tongues as ‘gibberish’, I want you to see something. The ‘tongues’ [languages] of this experience were actually real foreign languages that the speakers never learned. They were very much like the ‘tongues’ at Pentecost! Parham took this as a modern day Pentecost and began sending these students to foreign countries, believing that they would be able to evangelize the world without having to teach the students/missionaries the foreign language of their field. Well this experiment flopped! Even the accurate Pentecostal historians will tell you this. But we are still left with the supernatural account of the kids having spoken in languages that they never learned. Parham was a strange type of fellow. He believed in the ‘seed of the serpent’ doctrine and a few other weird things. He was also very racist! He allowed a black student by the name of William Seymour to sit out in the hall and hear his teaching. He could not ‘intermingle’ with the white students in class. Seymour was a humble uneducated man who had a heart for God. Seymour would eventually find his ‘harvest field’ in Los Angeles. He began preaching at different churches and would experience strange manifestations equal to the things that Parham experienced. The churches did not appreciate this unlearned, one eyed black preacher introducing these strange ‘manifestations’ into their congregations and eventually Seymour rented a building on Azusa street. In 1906 this Azusa street mission would become ground zero for the outpouring of the modern day Pentecostal movement. Seymour was a very humble man by all accounts. He was known for sticking his head inside a box on the pulpit so the people wouldn’t see him instead of the Lord. The L.A. papers would run front page stories on ‘the strange tongues of Babel’ and stuff like that. Though Seymour was young and inexperienced at ‘running a revival’ he tried to the best of his ability to follow the Lord. He would contact Parham and ask him to come and check out the move. Parham came and totally denounced the wild meetings as spiritists run amok! Even though Parham had himself experienced the gift of tongues at his bible school, he saw the unrestrained nature of Azusa and condemned it. Seymour would never invite him back. The little mission building at Azusa would become the place of pilgrimage for 20th century Pentecostalism. Some were adamantly opposed to the outpouring, others 100 % supporters. After 100 years of seeing what the outcome would be, the historical significance is hard to refute. Some still see the worldwide spread of Pentecostalism as error. Others see it as a fulfillment of the scriptures that in the last days God would pour out his Spirit on all flesh. I see Pentecostals as part of the Body of Christ and in no way reject them as heretics. This doesn’t mean I agree with them in every doctrine! [As you can see when you read this site]. I feel we need to keep things in perspective when we feel God is moving in a new way. Is it possible that ‘this move’[any move that you happen to be in at the time] will have worldwide historic results? Sure. But because the Body of Christ is so wide and diverse in our day, it is harder for a single move to have the same type of impact as the original Pentecost. Should we judge the initial outpouring at Parham’s school as demonic? I don’t think so. The fact that they mistakenly took the gift as being missionary in nature does not disqualify the gift. In Act’s chapter 2 the gift of being able to speak in a language never learned did allow the immediate hearers to hear the gospel in their distinct languages. But the actual ‘missionaries’ [the hearers who went back to their towns] spread the message in their own known language. So in all types of moves you can find real fault, as well as real truth [most of the time]. We as the people of God should ‘test the spirits, because every spirit is not of God’ [1st John] while at the same time keeping an open mind like the head leader of religion in the book of Act’s, Gamaliel. He said ‘let’s leave the disciples alone for now, if this work is of God you will not be able to stop it. If it’s not of God it will fall by itself’. I personally believe in most of the renewal and revival movements of our day. I try not to get over excited by some of the language that tends to see these moves as ‘the last and greatest move of all time’. But I also avoid the constant attacks by the apologists who seem to never find a move they can agree with. [see entry # 844]

[parts] The Iliad and Odyssey [Homer] I want to cover some of the classics of Western Literature- when I do the philosophy and science stuff- the purpose is to show how God- and ‘religion’ are an inescapable thread that we see all thru out history- and in fact- the rise of what we call ‘intellectualism’ did indeed come from the Judaic/Christian tradition [for instance- the modern day university system did come from the Church].

Ok- lets start with what most believe to be the greatest work from antiquity- outside of the bible.

These are 2 poems by Homer- the Iliad and Odyssey.

These poems were written in the 8th century BCE- and cover the Trojan war- which most believe was a real war- that took place in the 12th-13th century BCE.

In Homers works we read about this epic battle.

The war starts with- once again- a ‘woman’ issue.

Prince Paris of Troy steals Helen of Greece- from her husband King Menelaus [king of Sparta].

The Greeks- led by Achilles- lay siege to Troy.

In Homers telling of the event- the Greeks are actually defending the honor of marriage- and are carrying out a just retribution against an unjust act. Sort of the same themes we read in scripture- when the sons of Jacob defended the honor of their sister Dinah- when she was treated unjustly by the pagan nation that took her- forcefully- to be the wife of a kings son.

The brothers meted out justice- by tricking these pagans to get circumcised- then- while recovering ‘from surgery’- the sons went in and wiped out the city- to their fathers dismay!

In the story- Achilles is a warrior- who displays extreme violence- and also the human traits of a man who acts out of selfish motives.

At one point in the war- he removes himself from battle- because he feels his honor was betrayed.

The only thing that brings him back is the killing of his close friend Patroclus- by Hector. Achilles leads the Greeks to victory- and reflects the struggle between living a long life- or dying young- yet dying for a just cause. One of the more famous quotes form Homer’s Poems- attributed to Achilles- is ‘I carry 2 sorts of destiny to the day of my death. Either, if I stay here and fight beside the city of the Trojans, my return home is gone, but my glory shall be everlasting; but if I return home to the beloved land of my fathers, the excellence of my glory is gone, but there will be a long life- left for me, and my end in death will not come to me quickly.’

There has been some debate over the historicity of the war itself.

Some scholars believe it was Myth [I’ll get to this in a moment]. That is- they believe the war itself was not true- but a sort of Oral Tradition- that encompasses the reality of the human condition- and that Homers Poems are simply mythological ways to reveal the true condition of man.

Yet- much like the debate that took place in the 19th century German universities- over the ‘Myth’ of the bible- later on- the rise of what we now call Archaeology [because of the Industrial revolution- a new field arose- men started digging up the ground- for the primary purpose of extracting materials from the earth- and at this time we also discovered ‘lost worlds’- that is we could actually trace cities and lands that were once deemed fake].

So- as with Homers Troy- and bible lands- these archaeologists did indeed find Cities that matched the stories.

In 1870 the German Archaeologist Schliemann discovered remains that seemed to find the city of Troy- the area is known today as modern day Turkey.

This same thing happened with the bible- we did indeed find historical evidence that seemed to back up the historicity of the stories we find in the bible.

As a matter of fact- a famous doubter of the bible embarked on a search- to prove the bible was ‘myth’ yet- after researching carefully the historical names and places we read about in the book of Acts- he came to believe that the book of Acts- written by both an historian and doctor [Luke] was the most historically accurate writing that came from the first century [Acts has lots of names of political figures- court proceedings- stuff like that- and when doing research like this- it is quite easy to debunk the historical reality of a fake work- but- when these names and places were researched- from actual historical records dating back to the first century- it was amazing how the pieces fit].

The Trojan War is found in many works of Greek literature- and art.

But the most comprehensive account comes from Homer’s 2 poems.

Now- in Homer’s poems there are obvious references to Mythology- Goddesses- Golden apples- the Greek gods intervening in the affairs of men.

So yeah- we see that there are obvious mythological aspects to the work. Yet- the ancient Geeks did indeed believe the war itself was a real war that took place at around the 12th century BCE.

Some believe that Homer never actually wrote the poems- but that he told the stories- like Oral Tradition- and they were later written down by others.

Sort of like the classic- Paradise Lost- by John Milton. Milton was blind- and told the story to his daughters [oral tradition] and the actual work was penned by those who heard it.

Jesus himself used this method- he never wrote a book- or letter in the New Testament- yet the gospels were compiled by his men after his death.

We read about this when Luke [who I mentioned above] gives the reason for his documenting stuff in the book of Acts [read Acts chapter one].

Luke also wrote his gospel a few years after the death and resurrection of Christ.

So- some believe the same thing happened with Homer- those who heard him tell the story multiple times- simply put it together later on.

Most scholars believe that Homer did indeed write the poems- and that the famous Trojan War was a real historical event.

Last year- when in North Bergen- my atheist friend Daniel said he watched a PBS show- and he said ‘even a priest said the bible was Myth’.

I explained to Daniel that when the more liberal scholars use this term [like in the writings of Bultman] that they do not mean ‘fake’- like Greek Mythology.

But they mean that some of the stories in the gospels might be a compilation of the many Oral teachings of Jesus- and they were put together as one story [some think the Sermon on the Mount was actually multiple teachings Jesus did- and they were compiled into one event].

Now- when I explained this to Daniel- he said ‘see- even you believe it was Myth’.

I told Daniel that no- I do not hold to this theory [not 100%] but that I was simply telling him that even those who use the term Myth- when talking about Theology- they do not mean Myth- as in fake.

So- I find it interesting that both the New testament- and Homers poems- got the same scrutiny.

In these poems we do indeed see the condition of man- which Homer depicts as one of constant war- not peace.

The letter of James in the New Testament says- James 4:1 From whence come wars and fightings among you? come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members? James 4:2 Ye lust, and have not: ye kill, and desire to have, and cannot obtain: ye fight and war, yet ye have not, because ye ask not. James 4:3 Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it [parts] MY VIDEOS https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2015/10/10-18-15-nietzsches-twilight-of-the-idols.zip https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2015/10/10-28-15-jean-paul-sartre.zip

On today’s video- I attempted the impossible- to tell the story of ‘everything’ in 1 hour. Ok I bit off more than I could chew. It took 2 hours [the next video ‘history of the world- part 2’ will finish it]. But- to sum up today’s video. Is the biblical account of creation accurate? We read that God made everything- by speaking. Is this even possible- or some silly fable? Over the history of time we read the story of the Jewish people- their trials and failures. That’s the majority of the history of the Old Testament. They believed the story in Genesis- while others questioned whether or not all things actually had a beginning point. In time- we see the rise of the Greek philosophers- during what we call the intertestamental period [the 400 years between Malachi and Matthew]. These thinkers were looking for the answer to these questions- and the Greek word they used to describe this answer- was LOGOS- which is the Geek word- for WORD. Then we had the appearing of Christ in the 1st century- and the apostle John calls him the LOGOS. Hmm? That’s the same word that the Greeks were looking for- John says ‘we have found him’. Remember- this is Jesus Christ- the living Word. Ok- over time we had the great movements of history- the Renaissance- the Reformation- the Enlightenment- the scientific revolution- the industrial revolution. Most scientists believed that all creation was eternal- so- for them- the answer to ‘everything’ was- it was always there. In the 20th century we had the great breakthroughs of Einstein- and we call one of them the Big Bang theory- meaning- all things did not always exist. They had a beginning point- which we call the point of singularity. Ahh- now we are back to ‘where did it all come from- if at the start- there was nothing’. Yes- ‘In the beginning God spoke’. So- at the end of the story- of everything- we find the answer at the beginning. In the beginning God spoke-Yes- the early followers of Jesus called him by this name- THE WORD. And science and logic show us that all events need a cause [even the ‘event’ of creation]. So- this history of the world- recorded in the scripture- was true all along! Surprised? [parts] (1332) Been doing some reading on church history/philosophy, it’s interesting to see the role that theology/Christianity played in the universities. Theology is referred to as ‘the queen of the sciences’ and philosophy was her ‘handmaid’. They saw the root of all learning as originating with the study ‘of God’. Many modern universities have dropped the term ‘theology’ and call it ‘the study of religion’. The study of religion is really the study of how man relates to God, his view of God; this would fit under anthropology/sociology, not under theology. Modern learning has lost the importance of the study of God and the role it plays in all the other sciences. The classic work of Homer [8th century BC] called the Iliad, has Achilles debating whether or not he should ‘stay and [parts] WHAT’S REAL? And HOLY SAVIOR https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/12-18-20-whats-real.zip https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/12-20-15-holy-savior.zip https://youtu.be/1xlAC-2CHPw What’s real? https://youtu.be/7RQ85MGE-8I Holy Savior I made these videos in Texas. Then didn’t have time to write the usual teaching. So I stuck them together and did the best I could. ON VIDEO’S- note- I mentioned on the video the philosopher who ‘doubted everything’. I wasn’t sure if I got it right. I said ‘maybe Blaise Pascal’- but it was Renee Descartes. .Kill Muslims? .Bruce Jenner- 2nd thoughts? .Little people .He eats with sinners .Philosophy/Physics .Arianism .Islam and Christianity .Abrahams kids .Ishmael too! God and Allah .Chaz Bono .End times war? .In defense of cops .Hung jury .Columbus- Aztecs- Conquistadores

PAST POSTS [verses below] . REMINDER- This is a commentary I wrote years ago- the videos are new. .CHAPTER 8- FEW POINTS; 1- Did God choose us to believe- or did we choose him? 2- When Paul says ‘he makes our bodies alive’ is he only speaking about resurrection? 3- Does God use difficulty- or is it to be rebuked? 4- Was Paul a ‘hyper- Calvinist’? (839)ROMAN 8:1-4 ‘There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh [sinful nature] but after the Spirit [new nature]’. Now, having proved the reality of sin and guilt [chapter 7] Paul teaches that those who ‘are in Christ’ are free from condemnation. Why? Because they ‘walk according to the Spirit’ the ‘righteousness of the law is being fulfilled in them’. Having no condemnation isn’t simply a ‘legal function’ of declared righteousness, and Paul didn’t teach it that way! Paul is saying ‘all those who have believed in Jesus and have been legally justified [earlier arguments in chapters 3-4] are now walking [actually acting out] this new nature. Therefore [because you no longer walk according to the flesh] there is no condemnation’! This argument helps bridge the gap between Catholic and Protestant theology, part of the reason for the ongoing schism is over this understanding. After the Reformation the Catholic Church had a Counter Reformation council, the council of Trent. They dealt with a lot of the abuses of the Catholic Church, things that many Catholic leaders were complaining about before the Reformation. They did deal with some issues and reformed somewhat. To the dismay of the more ‘reform minded’ Catholics [with Protestant leanings] they still came down strong on most pre reform doctrines. This made it next to impossible for the schism to be healed. But one area of disagreement was over ‘legal’ versus ‘actual/experiential’ justification. The Catholic position was ‘God can’t declare/say a person is justified until they actually are’ [experientially]. The Protestant side [Luther] said ‘God does justify [legal declaration] a person by faith alone’. Like I taught before, both of these are true. The Catholic view of ‘justification’ is looking ahead towards a future reality [The same way James speaks of justification in a future sense- He uses the example from Genesis 22, when Abraham does a righteous act] while the Protestant view is focusing on the initial legal act of justification [Genesis 15]. Here Paul agrees with both views, he says ‘those who walk after the Spirit [actually living the changed life] have no condemnation’. [parts] [parts] (1242) Read a few chapters from Brian McLaren’s ‘everything must change’ thought I’d comment. I like Brian’s writing style, I agree with him on believers needing to be challenged to see things differently, but I disagree on some of his ‘everything’s’. He challenges the idea of objective thinking as defined as foundationalism. He explains well the questioning of modern intellectuals after the world wars and Holocaust of the 20th century. He shows how certain thinkers began looking for answers to the problem of society’s failure as seen in these events. He also shows how some blamed the events on ‘foundationalism’ which is a way of ‘seeing things’ [epistemology] as defined by Rene Descartes. These thinkers diagnosed the problem as society’s acceptance of absolutes, they felt that this led to an ‘overconfidence’ in right and wrong and this in turn allowed for these atrocities to happen. Many modern thinkers would disagree with this conclusion. I find it interesting that Brian makes some statements about Evolution that seem to say he accepts the theory, but yet he fails to see the role that Social Darwinism played as a precursor to the Holocaust. You could make the opposite argument that it was the rejection of absolutes, and the rise of liberal theology from the universities in Germany that led to these events. Many scholars began questioning Gods truth and laid a foundation that said ‘we really can’t trust Gods truth’ [or even know it]. To be honest these debates are a little philosophical and I didn’t think Brian would go down this road, but he does so I will deal with it. Many ‘post moderns’ believe that one of the things that must change is the ‘old’ [what is termed modern] way of thinking. These new thinkers assert that truth itself, as an absolute thing that people can know for sure, is out of mans reach. They question the modern way of thinking that teaches there are certain absolutes [preconceived ways of thinking that everyone accepts]. These new thinkers say this ‘foundationalism’ is the problem. Did the enlightenment invent this mode of objectivism? No. Thinkers from Aristotle to Aquinas to Descartes all approached thinking this way. It was defined more clearly during the enlightenment period. But this is a philosophical debate that goes on in these various camps. You have had very smart people disagree on these things. The great theologian Karl Barth would say you are not truly educated until you can ‘affirm both sides of an argument, accept contradictory definitions of the same thing’ many believe this would lead to lunacy! The two greatest theoretical physicists of the last century also disagreed on this. Neils Bohr would say that you can have two contradictory truths about a subject, and they could both be true, Einstein disagreed. So these things have been around for a while, many of the eastern religions teach the same [Zen]. So I would disagree with Brian on this, but do agree with him on the need for believers to expand their concerns from simple ‘going to heaven when I die’ concerns, to social justice concerns in the nations. He does give some good examples along these lines. [parts] In the last Philosophy post I hit on the 10th-14th century development of modern thought- today I want to jump into the 16th-18th centuries. Like I said in a previous post- after the Renaissance and the Reformation and the great scientific revolution- you had the world in somewhat of a tailspin.

What I mean is for hundreds of years people trusted in the old institutions [like the Catholic Church] to tell them what was true or false- then with the development of all these modern movements people began questioning stuff.

Was it good to question things? Sure. But some challenged the very foundations of thought and knowing [called Epistemology] and went a bit too far.

Some thinkers went back to the thought of Plato [400 years BC] and said that the mind is the main source of all knowledge- these were the 17th century Rationalists.

Rationalism- as a philosophy- was an outgrowth of all the great strides that man was making in all these other areas of life. The Scientific Revolution totally challenged the age old beliefs of many in the church.

Math became a sort of new ‘god’. How so? As science invented the Microscope and Telescope- man was able for the first time to peer deeply into the heavens- and to see deeply into the microscopic world.

As the great minds [Copernicus] showed us that the Universe was different than what we thought [Heliocentric versus Geocentric] man was able to do mathematical calculations and to say that a specific planet or star [or Comet] would show up at an exact date- or spot- and Walla- it would happen [you could look thru the Telescope and sure enough the math was right- the object that was calculated to be there- was.]

These calculations were mathematical formulas- so math began to be seen as the new religion in many ways.

There are even some thinkers in the modern day that still say the only ‘real truth’ that exists is mathematical formulas. Yeah- one guy wrote an entire book on the subject- the problem? Well- his book was not written in math- but words.

Yes- even the extreme deniers of Objective truth do make mistakes.

Now- what’s wrong with rationalism? Of course being rational is okay- but the philosophy itself denied real Objective truth. Truth that corresponds to some other ‘outside’ reality.

This form of thinking [rejecting outside reality] is called Relativism/Subjectivism. While there is some truth to all the various fields of thought- yet extreme Relativism denies ‘reality’ as most of us understand the term. There was a strong resistance to the 17th century rationalists- we call this Philosophy Empiricism.

The main thinker in this field was John Locke. Locke lived most of his life in the 17th century- but his thought laid the foundation for the 18th century Empiricist.

This philosophy says that the mind does indeed play a major role in the knowledge of things- but this knowledge does not originate in the mind [Plato] but in the ‘thing’ itself [Aristotle- remember when we covered these men? Plato was an idealist- Ideas were more real than matter. Aristotle was a Realist- closer to the thought of Locke].

Locke developed a theory called the Correspondence theory- that truth that the Mind discovers corresponds to real things that actually exist apart from the mind.

Locke was a practicing doctor- and most of the other thinkers of the day had room to speculate about reality in a way that Locke could not.

He lived in a real world with real patients who had real symptoms- in a nutshell Locke had to diagnose his patients based on his findings- he could not deny that there was a real problem- he had to have his ‘feet on the ground’ [based in reality] while engaging with his head up high.

Okay- I think we’ll end with this. Maybe you can go back and read some of my previous posts on this subject- just to become a little more familiar with it.

As Christians- we are not ‘required’ to know Philosophy- or current events- or science- but it helps us engage the culture when we do educate ourselves in these areas.

Go slow in learning [not too slow!] and try and see how the Christian Worldview agrees with- or rejects certain aspects of these different felids of thought.

Most Christians would reject Rationalism as a Philosophy- because it denies real objective truth- it says truth is relative- whatever the mind can conceive- or think- can be defined as truth [Unicorns?]

Biblical truth is based on real historic events- 1st Corinthians chapter 15 says that if we deny the physical resurrection of Christ- a real event- then our faith is in vain.

Christians base their faith on a real historic event- not simply on a belief system.

[parts]

VERSES- Acts 1:1 The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach, Acts 1:2 Until the day in which he was taken up, after that he through the Holy Ghost had given commandments unto the apostles whom he had chosen: Acts 1:3 To whom also he shewed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God: Acts 1:4 And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith he, ye have heard of me. Acts 1:5 For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence. Acts 1:6 When they therefore were come together, they asked of him, saying, Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel? Acts 1:7 And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power. Acts 1:8 But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth. Acts 1:9 And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their sight. Acts 1:10 And while they looked stedfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel; Acts 1:11 Which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven. Acts 1:12 Then returned they unto Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sabbath day’s journey. Acts 1:13 And when they were come in, they went up into an upper room, where abode both Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew, Philip, and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas the brother of James. Acts 1:14 These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren. Acts 1:15 And in those days Peter stood up in the midst of the disciples, and said, (the number of names together were about an hundred and twenty,) Acts 1:16 Men and brethren, this scripture must needs have been fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost by the mouth of David spake before concerning Judas, which was guide to them that took Jesus. Acts 1:17 For he was numbered with us, and had obtained part of this ministry. Acts 1:18 Now this man purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. Acts 1:19 And it was known unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood. Acts 1:20 For it is written in the book of Psalms, Let his habitation be desolate, and let no man dwell therein: and his bishoprick let another take. Acts 1:21 Wherefore of these men which have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, Acts 1:22 Beginning from the baptism of John, unto that same day that he was taken up from us, must one be ordained to be a witness with us of his resurrection. Acts 1:23 And they appointed two, Joseph called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias. Acts 1:24 And they prayed, and said, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, shew whether of these two thou hast chosen, Acts 1:25 That he may take part of this ministry and apostleship, from which Judas by transgression fell, that he might go to his own place. Acts 1:26 And they gave forth their lots; and the lot fell upon Matthias; and he was numbered with the eleven apostles. John 14:16 And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations John 14:26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations John 15:26 But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me: In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations John 16:7 Nevertheless I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Psalm 109:8 Let his days be few; and let another take hisoffice. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Psalm 41:9 Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations John 13:18 I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen: but that the scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth bread with me hath lifted up his heel against me. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

http://www.corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com https://www.facebook.com/john.chiarello.5?ref=bookmarks https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZ4GsqTEVWRm0HxQTLsifvg https://twitter.com/ccoutreach87 https://plus.google.com/108013627259688810902/posts https://vimeo.com/user37400385 john chiarelloFollow On https://www.linkedin.com/home?trk=hb_logo http://johnchiarello.tumblr.com/ http://johnchiarello.thoughts.com/ http://ccoutreach.over-blog.com/ Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on- Thanks- John.#

Advertisements

Occasionally, some of your visitors may see an advertisement here, as well as a Privacy & Cookies banner at the bottom of the page. You can hide ads completely by upgrading to one of our paid plans.

UPGRADE NOW DISMISS MESSAGE

Share this:

Press This

Twitter

LinkedIn

Pinterest1

Tumblr

Print

Facebook

Reddit

Related

Text- Sunday sermon 6-9-19

Sunday sermon

Chapters 4-5