#hope this was understandable! i have many thoughts but this is as concise of a review as i could give LOL

[dayurno]

cousin dayurno…. thots on tsc. i remember you mentioning before it came out that you weren’t super excited about it/might not read it for a while. im curious now if you think it’s worth getting into sooner rather than later! as someone who keeps forgetting to start it i must know the opinion of the council

cousin dayurno............... hi! well okay so. going into tsc i didn't have many expectations besides maybe seeing kevin at some point, and getting told an interesting story. i was not disappointed in the kevin front nor whenever the foxes were concerned: i think nora sakavic's grasp on them is as strong as ever and the few that showed up (kevin, renee, neil) were capable of carrying any story no matter what. jean spends a good chunk of the book in palmetto and you can tell it's nora's strongest suit as a writer; it's the most interesting part of the book and the character work is, as expected, very well thought out. i couldn't stop reading for the entire period of jean's stay with the foxes.

i will say the book kind of fell flat for me after jean left palmetto. half of it is because jean sucks the life out of basically any of the trojans character-wise; the foxes were able to compete with him because they are well established characters with complex backstories who already feel real to the reader, whereas the trojans (bar lucas, who is a highlight if there was ever one), while lovely, aren't really much of characters at all. i think nora sakavic likes to write a very specific kind of story, and in that niche she is fabulous, but she stumbles when she has to make simpler stories interesting. she is a high-stakes writer writing a very low-stakes story, and in tsc you can tell.

jeremy was supposed to be the main character along with jean, but in his very few chapters, not much about him is learned; from the moment he is in a room with jean, jeremy's whole character starts to revolve around him. yes, you can say this is jeremy repressing even in his own mind, and maybe that's true where it concerns his backstory, but that's not all there is to a character. even if jeremy's backstory wasn't going to be discussed, there's effectively nothing else about him: we know that he's rich, that he's gay, and that's it. no particular quirks nor non-trojan related interests. the only discernable character trait i can put out about jeremy is that he is very pushy, and i don't think that's what nora intended for him. he was a breath of fresh air in his first chapters, but what little personality he shows is immediately mowed down by being on 'taking care of jean' mode 24/7. i thought he could use more personality, and overall more scenes away from jean (and even laila and cat) to establish himself as a character

you have not yet read it so i will not spoil you the reason, but i felt that neil's appearance later down the line was the highlight of the book because it made the story feel interesting again. neil steals the show because he's neil, and he's more interesting than all of the trojans combined. he also makes them all look worse by comparison: we see personality and chemistry and history and that is something that the trojans just don't have. they're lovely, but that's all there is to it. jeremy and the trojans feel more like tools to achieve jean's happiness than actual characters, and that's a bit of the upperclassmen curse in aftg, but in a book that's so specifically centered around jean's inner world and his healing trajectory, they feel flat and out of place by contrast. they can't win. they can't even compete. but if they could, catalina and laila would get the closest to being real characters

this got away from me so tl;dr: tsc is fine! it's not tfc, and i think the contrast might feel surprising and hard to adjust to, especially when it comes to character work. it has all of nora's trademark writing with none of the groundwork there was for tfc, and it would have benefitted a lot from staying in the drafts for a little longer. it's an ok book! it didn't change my life nor did it save anyone, but it was there, and it did what it said it was going to do. if i saw it on ao3 i probably wouldn't read it, but i wouldn't hate on it either

[wolviensabes]

Logan gets jealous so he decides to make sure you know who you belong to. MDNI

I love jealousy scenarios so much. So here is one with Logan <3 Still figuring out how to write him so keep that in mind too. It came out to be much longer than I thought lmaooo. Possibly will revise later but for now I just wanted to get it out.

Rating: Mature/Smut

Warnings: Afab reader, jealous/possessive Wolvie, brief spanking, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), deepthroat/throat fucking, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. Unedited, I worked on this for three days and I'm too lazy.

WC: 5k

The moment you got home, he could smell it. That scent on your jacket, your shirt, your skin. It made his nose scrunch up in a way that was impossible to miss. He glared down at you, his eyes narrowing as that stranger's smell seemed to seep deeper into your skin with every passing second. You, completely oblivious to it all, casually hung up your jacket on the rack, not sensing the tension in the air. As you turned back to face him, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare.

"What's wrong?" you asked, genuinely puzzled by the look on his face, which was now a mix of confusion and anger. His reaction made you take a step back, trying to understand what could have possibly caused such a strong response.

Sure, you weren't stupid. Logan was always protective of you, and maybe it was that asshole in the store who kept pestering you with questions about where certain groceries were located. Maybe it was because he stood so uncomfortably close that his shoulder brushed against yours, or perhaps it was the intrusive hand he splayed on your back. You felt a deep sense of discomfort with his touch, and tried giving him clear and concise instructions, hoping to get the man to leave you alone as quickly as possible. The whole situation made you feel uneasy, and Logan had seen it from down the aisle.

His first instinct was to slice that man into pieces and leave him on the ground, but he couldn't do that. Not in the middle of the grocery store anyway. He could feel his blood boiling and his muscles tensing up as he stared intently at the man walking off, every fiber of his being urging him to take action. You let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate slightly, and turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on the mundane task at hand.

Grocery shopping was one of your least favorite things. You didn't like being around so many people, and that man was a prime example of why.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed the bag of chips you wanted, hoping that the simple act of shopping would help you regain some sense of calmness. You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, just to make sure the man was really gone, before continuing down the aisle to Logan's side.

He said nothing about it, so you assumed he wasn't concerned at all. This lack of reaction from him made you feel a little more grounded and reassured. If Logan wasn't reacting, then maybe that guy was just some harmless idiot and not someone to worry about.

You made the conscious decision to stick next to Logan for the rest of the trip, not bothering to split up and go farther down the aisle as you had done before. The silence between you and Logan seemed to confirm that everything was alright, and you found yourself relaxing more as you walked together.

But you were wrong about his outward stoicism. He was fuming inside.

Not at you, of course, but that man who had the nerve to touch you. Asking where something is in the grocery store already annoyed him, the damn aisles are numbered and have the product written above them. He could've just looked at the signs instead of talking to you and touching you.

Logan let out a deep, throaty growl, staring intensely at you now that you two were back home, the familiar surroundings providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "That bastard really pissed me off," he spat, his voice dripping with anger and frustration, his eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and possessiveness. "The damn nerve of him to come up and touch what isn't his," he continued, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Those deadly blades nearly poking out on instinct.

"That guy is what's bothering you?" you questioned softly, understanding how he might feel after witnessing the stranger be so close to you at the store, having the gall to actually touch you too. You weren't happy about it either, but you tried to keep your cool to show him it didn't bother you, even when it did, so he wouldn't react. "Logan, he was just an assho-"

Your voice was abruptly cut off as his hands slammed forcefully into the wall on either side of your head, creating a resounding echo. He was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath warming your face. The distinct smell of cigar smoke and musk emanated from him, enveloping you in their combined, heady aroma, you could feel your core clench and dampen.

Your heart pounded in your chest at the close proximity, feeling as though it might burst through your ribcage with each passing second. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady and rhythmic, almost hypnotic in the stillness of the moment. His eyes, which were usually dark and troubled, bored into you with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Now, however, they held an expression you could only describe as fierce and feral, a primal emotion that sent shivers down your spine.

"You are mine, princess," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "Clearly, I don't show it enough now do I?" His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises, leaving you breathless as your body was reacting quickly to his words.

His eyes scanned you, running down your body and to your core, his lips upturned in a smirk, "You naughty girl." His voice was gravelly, clearly enjoying the new scent of arousal that he could smell as obvious as a candle burning in front of you. He grabbed you, his calloused hands clasped around the back of your plush thighs and swiftly lifted you up and over his shoulder. He held you still as he turned and carried you effortlessly through the halls and up to your bedroom.

"Logan!" You let out a small yelp as you were effortlessly thrown over his muscular shoulder. He carried you with ease, striding confidently through the room, only to be answered with the quick swing of your body being thrown down onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, the impact bouncing you slightly on the mattress. You looked up at him, standing over you with a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He reached down, tugging your pants off with a swift motion, letting them drop onto the floor by your feet.

"Hush..." he grumbled, his voice carrying a rough edge as he threw his shirt off with a swift motion. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abdomen, packed with well-defined muscles that flexed and rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly to the side. Each movement seemed to highlight his features, he glanced back down at you after he had thrown the shirt off, rolling his shoulders back.

You had seen him shirtless many times before, yet your reaction was always the same. It was as if his physique had a magnetic pull, making it impossible to look away. The sight of him never ceased to leave you in awe, and it seemed each time you saw him like this, you discovered something new to admire.

He lifted his hand slowly, fingers curling tightly to form a fist, and with a deliberate motion, one of his three adamantium blades began to slide out from within him. The slow, smooth sound of it grazing through his knuckles and tender flesh, emerging inch by inch until it was fully exposed, sent a shiver down your spine and made you swallow thickly. The gleam of the claw in the dim light only added to the tension, and you had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to do next.

He leaned down, the claw gently trailing from your knee and up your thigh, moving slowly and deliberately, right up until he reached your center. The sensation was both thrilling and unnerving. Most would flinch at having such a thing near them, the sharp metallic edge so close to their skin, (especially when it came to the person wielding it), but you didn't. You trusted him completely, and while you felt a mix of excitement and slight uncertainty fill you, you stayed still for him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As the claw continued its path until it laid against the center of your panties, you felt goosebumps rise from your skin, each tiny bump cause by the mixture of sensations rushing through you. The cool metal chilled your body, leaving what felt to be an icy trail on your warm skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of your own flesh. The experience was almost surreal, like a dance between fire and ice, and you found yourself lost in the moment, every nerve ending heightened, every touch magnified.

You could sense his intent, the care with which he moved, and it only deepened your trust. He'd never actually harm you, and besides, it was fun to include them. The blade traveled farther up your body, under your shirt until it poked out of your collar near your neck. He glanced at you before jerking his arm back and swiftly tearing your shirt completely in half.

Your gasp was loud and sudden, your eyes widening with shock as you watched him effortlessly rip your shirt off with his sharp claw. He trailed it slowly down your chest, gliding it with a deliberate and almost teasing motion across your body, allowing you to feel its cold, metallic touch on the tender and delicate skin of your soft belly. The claw was lethal, easily capable of inflicting ruthless injury or ending your life in an instant.

But he doesn't, and you know he wouldn't.

The thrill of the danger, the razor's edge between safety and peril, heightened your senses like never before, leaving you acutely aware of every sensation and emotion coursing through you.

You reached down with a deliberate, yet tender motion and gently held his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingers. With careful precision, you guided his hand upwards to your chest, allowing his large palm to come to rest over your breast. His nostrils flared with a sharp breath, signaling his heightened awareness. Your tongue slowly emerged, and you carefully licked the side of his claw, a metallic taste and cool sensation on your taste buds.

The way your tongue slid over the blade, oh so carefully, made him growl and it retracted once he saw your tongue was safely out of the way. You whined quietly, you were having fun teasing him. "You wanna be a tease, do you?" His voice grunted out, he jerked you up and tossed you to the floor, your knees hit the carpet and you whined.

He paused only for a second, then he fiddled with his belt and tugged it out of the loops in one jerk. The act of that made you quiver below him, blinking up as he harshly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and his thick cock sprang out of his boxers. Red and angry, the tip completely blushed and shiny with the precum that had been spread on his tip.

His hand reached for your hair, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer. His cock brushed against your cheek as he used his other hand to position it at your mouth, "Open," he demanded lowly to you. Your jaw relaxed and your lips parted, allowing his salty tip to slide into your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the blushed flesh, tasting and cleaning his sticky cockhead. He grunted in response, a pleased sound ripples through his throat as he pushed himself farther into your warm mouth. Your tongue was a soft cushion for the underside of his dick, he relished feeling it with each thrust into your throat.

Logan's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a possessive intensity. He growled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled you even closer to him. You made a muffled whine, a desperate sound that escaped your lips, your eyes looking up at him from where you were below, wide and pleading. He almost looked completely feral, his eyes wild and dark with an unrestrained hunger. He huffed as his chest rose and fell quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, the tension between you almost palpable.

"You belong to me, princess. I'm going to make sure every single part of you remembers that. Even when I'm done fucking you." Logan growled out, watching his cock disappear in your throat as he thrust his hips forward. The sudden intrusion into your throat made your eyes widen and you gagged, not expecting him to do that.

"That's it, who's cock do you gag on? Mine. Who's cock do you like to suck on, hm?" He angled you more to look at him while keeping himself safely tucked into you mouth, the tip of his dick brushing up and down the fleshy, soft meat on the back of your throat. Bubbles of saliva popped at the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of your throat, each time hitting the back and sliding down.

"Ugh, yeah...that's it...take it down, pup," he chuckled and watched you struggle to take him with each thrust, you still did your best to attempt to swallow all of him, knowing how it drives him crazy seeing you choke. "Slobber all over my cock, mine...the only cock that you get."

Logan grunted lowly, the sound vibrated from his chest and through his throat, his eyes closing as he focused and you could feel his dick twitching inside your mouth. "Here it comes, princess, be a good girl and swallow it." His voice was dominant and demanding, you prepared for his thick, heavy load that was soon to coat your tongue and slide down your throat.

His hips stuttered, his hold in your hair tightened and in one swift thrust, he was sheathed in your mouth. His cum began to flood across your tongue, giving you a slightly salty taste as it continued to spill out of his swollen dick. You had to swallow twice before you could finally breathe again, it felt like he was unloading everything he had. When he pulled out, he watched as his cock popped out, a gasp escaped your throat and your face messy from his thrusts. He grinned down, satisfied with how disheveled you were. "Look at you, such a mess."

You lifted your eyes up, swallowing the rest of his spunk and breathing heavily. You were breathless, your jaw ached and your throat felt bruised for sure. He took a step back and took you in, the image of you ingraining in his brain and blood flowed down to his cock. His fingers ran through your hair lightly but quickly tightened again, lifting you to stand.

Your legs felt shaky and unsteady from sitting on your knees for such a prolonged period, and you were still a bit dazed and disoriented from sucking his cock. The discomfort in your legs was matched by a slight buzzing throb in your head, making it difficult to regain your composure. "Ain't no one makes you such a pretty mess like this but me...you won't forget that. I don't give a damn who hears those sweet little noises that come out of your mouth."

He moved you onto the bed again, this time face down, and your belly hit the mattress with a rough huff. Logan's rough hands ran up the back of your bare thighs and over the round of your ass. "Such a sweet peach, princess..." he grabbed the meat of your ass and spread you open, gazing down at your holes.

He leaned in and inhaled your scent, making you squirm and whine his name, he groaned under his breath in response and spit onto your cunt. You could barely register what he was doing before you felt his tongue push inside and he began lapping at you like a starved man. His tongue curled and gathered as much of you as possible, tasting your arousal from the source as his pupils dilate with desire.

You can't help but moan as he ate you out, his hands kneading and groping your ass as he did so, snarling against your core while his tongue effortlessly assaulted and teased your clit. "You taste so damn good, look at you, soaked already..." he sat up and pushed two fingers inside to stretch you out, making you groan loudly from the sudden intrusion. "Logan!"

"Yeah...you like that don't you...feeling my fingers inside you. Haven't fingered you in a minute huh...feels good? You like when I curl 'em don't you...like..." he adjusted his wrist and he curled his fingers against that sweet, delicate spot inside you that makes you cry out in pleasure. "Yeah...that's it," he chuckled with amusement, hearing your pretty little noises. His calloused fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spongey wall and your legs began to tremble. Your fists gripped the sheets and you cried out against them, your pleasured noise muffled by the blankets. "That's what my girl likes..."

"Logan...oh god..." you whined desperately, rocking back into his fingers, chasing that sweet high that was soon to hit you and explode. "I'm gonna cum..." you rasped and did what you could to drive yourself there, the brink was so, so close...but just as he felt your walls slicken a little and tighten around his fingers, he retracted them. Right before you went over the edge, he denied you, making you groan in frustration. "Logan," you cried desperately and with slight frustration, "I was almost there!"

He had that shit-eating grin on his face, loving how desperate you became when you needed to climax. "Not so fast, sweetheart...I am going to fuck you until you can barely take it. And then some." Logan smacked your ass once, sending a sharp sting up your spine. The noise sounded loudly in the room and making you yelp slightly, your face felt hot and you bit your lip. "Maybe I should lay a few of these to ya...for begging so much...you'd like that wouldn't you? You naughty thing," He gave you another spank and you whined at the stinging sensation.

"L-Logan, please...I-I need you..." your voice was so desperate and pitiful, you could feel his hand on the small of your back, holding you still but not applying pressure. He didn't have to, he knew you'd lay perfectly for him, his pretty girl.

"I know...you need me huh? This poor pussy is so needy for me?" he chuckled, "You about broke my fingers with how tight you were. You gonna be that tight around my cock?" he asked, leaning over your body and placing a hot kiss to the side of your neck. The sensation of his lips on such a sensitive spot almost made you cry out. You felt like your body was on fire.

"Please! Please, I need you inside me! Don't tease me anymore...." your voice begged him, you wanted his cock stretching you out so badly...and he seemed to enjoy your desperation enough to give in. His cock head rubbed between your folds, he grinned and shuddered when he felt just how hot your core was.

Normally he'd just shove himself inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust, but not this time. He loved seeing you needy, especially after that bastard at the store had the audacity to touch you. The mere sight of it made his blood boil and his chest tighten with jealousy. He knew deep down that you hadn't done anything on purpose and that it wasn't your fault, but still, the image of it lingered in his mind. It gnawed at him, filling him with an almost unbearable urge to assert himself. He had to prove something to both you and himself. It was as if an uncontrollable fire had ignited within him, his primal instincts demanding him to take action.

He instead slowly began to push inside, his cock stretching your tight hole and you let out a loud whining cry. It wasn't enough; your desire for him was overwhelming, you craved all of him, every part of his being. Yet, he was deliberate in his actions, taking his time and being slow and precise with you, almost as if savoring each moment. His meticulous approach only heightened your instinctive need, making the yearning even more intense.

When he was fully inside, your cries for him grew even louder, your voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire. Your whining and squirming only intensified as you clung to him, feeling the overwhelming sensation of him deep within you. You wanted him to move, to give you the release you craved, but he remained still, demonstrating an incredible amount of self-control.

The way your body writhed against him drove him absolutely crazy; every movement you made sent shivers down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to hold you down, to keep you in place and listen to those beautiful, intoxicating sounds that escaped your lips, savoring every moment of your shared intimacy.

You were utterly intoxicating to him. His hips finally moved, pumping in and out of you with vigor and passion. Logan's firm hold on your plush hips made him groan and growl against your neck, his warm huffs of breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your skin. Each exhale created goosebumps all over the rest of your body, making you respond with pathetic sounds of pleasure. The heat radiating from him was intense, the man ran hot as it was and it felt like his entire body was a heater on high, intensifying the intimate connection between you both.

As his fingers dug slightly into your soft flesh, his deep desire for you became more apparent when he jerked your body closer to him as he continued to pound himself in and out of your tight cunt. "You love this cock don't you princess? Does it feel good...you are so desperate huh?" he whispered in a throaty, guttural voice, his lips grazing your ear as he held you flush against his body.

You felt tears prick your eyes as the intense feeling began to rush through your body, your pussy was so sensitive and he just kept pounding you. "Mhm....nngh yes..." you rasped weakly, "S-so good...so good Logan...y-you're making me bulge down there..." Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the lower part of your abdomen slightly show his dick from when he sunk into your sex.

"Only I get to make you scream and cry like this, hm? Only me. You love when I fuck you like an animal don't you? Do you want that?" he pushed you back into the bed, your arms wrapped around the pillow for any kind of support as you cried and felt him begin to pound into you even harder. The feeling of your slick warming even more from the friction made you scream in delight. It felt so incredible, no man has ever made you feel so fulfilled before...

"M'gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, gonna fill this pretty belly with my cum and watch you swell up. Then no one will touch you. You're claimed, no one will ever come up and touch you again, you're all mine," Logan hissed lowly and angled your hips up slightly, his cock hitting your cervix and teasing it with the promise of his cum.

Your body reacted to his movements by squeezing him, your velvet walls tightened around his dick and tried milking him even more as he thrusted and claimed you as his own. "My good girl...nngh...takin' my cock so good, fuckin' you to tears hm? No one else can get you this way, can they?" he growled against your skin, holding you desperately close as his hips drove into you more and more.

"Logan, I'm gonna cum...please, let me cum," you whined pitifully, tears rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing your body. Every word that came from his mouth went straight to your clit and you were attempting to milk him before he was ready to climax himself.

"So needy... You really want to? You think you deserve it?" he asks in a low, almost mocking tone, chuckling to himself as he watches you with an intense gaze. Your tears stream down your face, and you mewl pathetically, your desperate cries echoing in the room, each sound seemingly fueling his amusement even more.

The scent of your arousal filled his nose and it drove him into you even more, his His hips stuttered, attempting to push faster than before, driven by a desperate need to increase the pace. Logan groaned deeply, the sound resonating through the room, his arms tightly wrapped around your midsection, pulling you closer. His muscular chest tightened with effort, every sinew straining as he used all the power he had to continue pounding you with relentless intensity. His skin, now slick with a light layer of sweat, pressed damply against your back, providing a heated contrast to the cool air. His chest hair was slightly tousled and damp, scratched along the skin of your back as his hips thrusted.

"Logan, I can't hold it any longer...please let me-" you rasped desperately, your entire body trembling and screaming at you to let it all go. Every muscle was tense, fighting against the overwhelming urge, yet you craved his permission more than anything. You needed to hear him say you could, to feel that moment of release granted by his word...

"Alright pretty girl, come for me, let it out, cum all over my cock...let me know how good I make you feel~" Logan urged you on and his hands roamed up your body, grasping your breasts and gently pinching and rolling your nipples in his index and thumb. That was all your body needed to go over the edge.

You felt an intense wave of adrenaline and warmth spread from your core, radiating throughout your entire body. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you cried out Logan's name, your voice a mix of desperation and euphoria. As your head became fuzzy and dazed, the feeling of pure ecstasy washed over you, filling your senses to the brim. You were completely overcome by the powerful emotions, your body trembling with the intensity as his cock mercilessly continued to pound into you.

"Ohh yes...that's it princess...let it out baby...cream on my dick," he groaned in your ear, the sound making you clench harder, if that were possible. His hips finally began to falter and he leaned over you to let gravity help his rutting. "M'gonna fill you up, til y'r dripping with me." Logan's eyebrows were knit tight and he let out a loud groan as his hips finally stopped, pushing hard against you as he reached his peak.

His cock kissed against your swollen cervix and he unloaded his orgasm deep into you, shooting rope after hot rope of cum until you were so full it began to ooze out around him. The sensation of it dripping down his balls made him snarl, he pulled out just enough to see it slowly coming out of your pretty, swollen pussy before he used his cock to swipe it up and push it back in.

"Keep it in there, sweet girl...keep all of me in you. You love it, being so full of my seed it leaks out of you." He reached around and teasingly wrapped his hand around your neck to give a gentle squeeze.

You, in a complete daze, so high on your climax you could barely think. He hadn't fucked you this hard in so long. You babbled lightly, attempting to form coherent words, but you weren't able to construct a complete sentence. He chuckled softly, his warm breath and lips brushing lightly against your temple. "Atta girl...so dizzy," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did I make you feel good? Hm?" Logan almost purred against you, his voice low and soothing, as you felt the gentle vibrations of his chest reverberate against your back, adding a comforting aspect to the intimate moment.

"Now, now...you just rest. You did so good for me." He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you to lay on him and reluctantly pulling himself out of you. "We can clean up later...right now, I want you here." He held your body close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he adjusted a bit to make you more comfortable.

He felt pride and satisfaction when he smelled you, leaning down to inhale lightly. He no longer sensed that awful stench the stranger had left on you from before. Now, it was just his own scent imbedded in your skin, his claim on your was loud and clear to him and it would be to everyone else too. He continued to hold you, his warmth surrounding you, creating a cocoon of security.

You were far too tired to argue. Every bone in your body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force, and the idea of cleaning up seemed like an insurmountable task. You would clean up later, but for now, you needed a moment to recover from your high and daze. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and the only thing grounding you was his presence and firm arms wrapped around your body. You were happy laying with him, despite that smug ass smirk he had on his face when he observed you. His eyes had a glint of amusement, and you didn't know why he seemed so full of himself until you saw yourself in the mirror half an hour later.

When you caught your reflection, you were shocked to find your skin covered in dark bruises, all adorning your neck and shoulders. It was then you understood the reason behind Logan's self-satisfied expression. There was no way you could cover these, and he made sure of that.

"Logan!!"

That bastard.

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dividers by @/strangergraphics

[papiliotao]

・❥・DICTIONARY OF LOVE

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Ayaka, Kazuha, Tartaglia, Wanderer (Scaramouche), Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: love through their eyes.

♡ — Content: fluff, very very light angst(?)

♡ — Warnings: spoilers for some characters' backstories

♡ — A/N: honestly, I'm kind of proud of the fact that I was able to keep each part relatively concise. Also, one of these parts is just me being down bad for one of the characters (I'll leave who it is to your imagination hehe). Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy the fic!!

To ALBEDO, love means patience. He's well aware that he's not the most energetic or expressive person. There are moments where his social battery is low, and he needs to immerse himself in his own world more than anything. Whenever this happens, you sit in the snowy landscape of Dragonspine, watching Albedo as he drags a brush across a canvas, causing inky strokes to bleed across the intricate composition. You wait in silence, intently peering at him, observing every movement of his arm and flick of his wrist. The frigid air stings your cheeks, but Albedo's presence is enough to cease the chills that threaten to wrack your body. Once he finishes, he turns to you and smiles softly. Albedo thanks you for waiting for him. Your understanding means the world to him, and despite the fact that you insist you need nothing in return, he still feels the need to reimburse you by taking you back to his camp in Dragonspine where he cuddles you until you feel warm again.

To AYAKA, love means acceptance. After long days of being surrounded by people who idolize her instead of seeing her as a friend, your presence makes her feel like a human being instead of some faultless goddess. Although she appreciates the individuals who think highly of her, she loves how spending time with you feels so easy in comparison. With you, she has no image to maintain. Formalities and etiquette are thrown out the window when she is with the one she adores. Despite the fact that you know she's not a perfect person, you're still hers, and that makes her feel secure. You're special to her because you accept all her flaws instead of ignoring them, yet you love her nonetheless.

To KAZUHA, love means tranquility. After all the storms he has encountered in his lifetime, he needs someone who can help him calm the raging tempests in his heart, and that someone is you. Peace — it's a feeling reminiscent of the serenity that courses through his veins when he basks in the last ephemeral rays of sunlight with you by his side. It’s a sentiment that is evoked by the gentle lapping of waves on sand as the two of you walk along a pristine shoreline, hand-in-hand as the sun sinks below the horizon. And most importantly of all, it's found in the sense of stillness that settles over him each night as he falls asleep with you in his arms. The moon acts as a witness to your love, curiously glancing down at the two of you as Kazuha holds you close and whispers sweet nothings into your ear until you drift off into slumber. When he is finally left alone with his thoughts, Kazuha wistfully gazes overhead and thanks every star in his sight for leading him to you.

To TARTAGLIA, love means war. He is a fighter by nature, so needless to say, he will fight as many battles as it takes to protect you. He knows it's not easy nor safe being romantically involved with one of the Fatui Harbingers. Numerous foes have tried to take you hostage and use you as leverage against him. However, Tartaglia is always there to protect you whenever his enemies try to strike from the shadows. His love for you and his contempt for those who attempt to hurt you fuel a fiery rage that urges him to show no mercy. By the time he is finished with them, he is certain that they will never try to harm you again. In Tartaglia's eyes, loving you is like fighting a war, and although the prospect is unappealing to many, Tartaglia is different. The thrill of battle fills him with adrenaline, and at the end of the day, he finds that it is all worth it because you're still by his side.

To the WANDERER, love means eternity. It is a concept he is all too familiar with — after all, the deity who embodies the principle is the one who created him just to cast him aside, initiating the first of several betrayals to come. All the fleeting moments of warmth he has experienced in his lifetime have left him raring for more, but no one ever quite quenches his thirst for intimacy before they abandon him. He wants something lasting, but he's too afraid to voice his desires due to the dubious thoughts that riddle his mind. If the God of Eternity’s affection for him was as transient as the vibrant maple leaves that adorned his birthplace, then who would ever be willing to love him indefinitely? His burning questions are all answered when he meets you. You are able to look past his harsh exterior and see him for who he truly is: someone afraid of the impermanence of tenderness, so when you finally confess your true feelings to him, you make it clear that you plan on staying by his side forevermore. When you make your vow to the Wanderer, he feels a gentle heartbeat thrumming to life in his once-empty chest. Perhaps this time, eternity will last forever.

To XIAO, love means subtlety. It is difficult for Xiao to verbally convey his admiration for you, so instead of expressing his infatuation in a straightforward manner, it is instead a sentiment he administers through lingering touches and shy acts of service. His love is quiet. Subdued, yet passionate all the same, and he will forever be grateful that you never fail to pick up on what he is discreetly trying to say to you. A heartfelt "I love you" is hidden in every small moment, no matter how insignificant it seems. And the way you reciprocate his gestures by preparing his favourite dish, shyly taking his hand while you're sitting together on Wangshu Inn's roof, and inspecting his body for any injuries in what you think is an inconspicuous manner makes his heart race time and time again. To Xiao, love is not something that needs to be in-your-face; it is found when you read between the lines.

Au revoir, mes amis. Also, all of these were supposed to be wholesome, and then Childe came along, and I just said VIOLENCE. I wonder if anyone can tell which one of these characters is my favourite. (Any guesses? /hj)

[howtofightwrite]

Do you have any advice for writing an intense, overwhelming chase scene?

So, this is a little unusual, in that it's something I haven't really thought a lot about.

For a real world situation, the process is to identify or create an opening, and escape. Usually this advice is more focused for situations for situations where someone's cornered you.

Also, the real world advice is to avoid a chase if at all possible. You don't want to get into a situation where you're directly testing your endurance against your enemy.

As for writing a chase scene. This is one of those times when you want to be efficient with your words, keep things as concise as possible. When you get more verbose it “slows down” the scene because it is literally slowing your reader's progress down.

Chases can be very logistically intensive for you, simply because you need a fairly coherent mental image of how the locations in your story fit together. Maps can be extremely helpful for this, whether you choose to share them or not.

I don't think I've talked about this on the blog, maps can be very helpful for getting a concrete image of how your world is put together, though, they can also, easily, start soaking up more time than the value they offer. That said, even pretty crude maps could be very useful in planning a chase scene. This is one of the times when your world needs to lock together into a unified space, instead of being able to move characters between loosely connected locations.

If you want the reader to have a detailed mental image for the locations, then you should probably have them in those spaces before the chase. Though, this is a situation where some, “stock locations,” could work for you. Liminal spaces can work pretty well for this, because most of your readers are going to have a preexisting basis for understanding what those areas look like. For example: even if their image of an airport causeway is different from yours, you'll both be close enough to the same space that you shouldn't run into many problems where you need to define the entire area.

It's also worth considering that as the chase progresses, it's possible to get gradually more verbose. As mentioned above, this will slow the reader, and as a result the scene, but it can convey the loss of inertia as your character tires or finds themselves having to slow down because they're now in unfamiliar (and possibly unsafe) territory, without being extremely direct about your character's exhaustion. This is an area that can benefit from some pretty careful word selection to hint at fatigue without outright stating it.

I do apologize that this is all pretty high level, concept advice, and a lot of this can be applied in other contexts. And, a lot of the above advice are things to keep in mind for all of your writing, but chases do stress these specific parts of your writing and world building.

Beyond that, it's the normal advice: Remember your world is a living place, so other people would be going about their daily lives while the chase rampages through. Remember persistence consequences, such as prior injuries, or injuries inflicted during the chase. Chases might lead into situations where other kinds of consequences might become unexpectedly relevant, such as your character being forced to run through the territory of a gang they angered earlier in the story. This is an opportunity to bring in unexpected consequences. Even if you don't stick to it, at least have an initial idea for what you want from the chase, then let the sequence play out as you go. (Cleaning this up is what rewrites are for, but it is important to let the chase flow, before you go back and worry about cleaning it up.)

Like I said at the beginning, this is something I don't generally think about, so it's been a bit before I could get back to this question, and I hope this helps.

-Starke

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[ronsenthal]

Ron Speirs x Female!Reader

Summary: After you helped Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon the word spread and soon enough this captain would come to your office too. 

A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize, this is my first time writing something, I’m pretty nervous and english is not my first language, I’ll just try my best. I had this idea after listening to Blank Space (Taylor’s version) on repeat and also looking for some Speirs info and found out his ridiculously pretty handwriting???? and then I realized that he is so Taylor coded and this came to my mind.

so this one goes out to my fellow BoB lovers who are also Swifties!! Hope y’all enjoy it and if you could leave some feedback I would very much appreciate it.

If only you knew that taking typing classes would lead you to live this life from city to city, seeing horrors, tragedy and pain, feeling cold, hopeless and tired beyond anything you could imagine or explain you would have had second thoughts. But then again, every smile from your friends, every stupid joke they would tell just to lighten the mood, every cup of “coffee” you would share would make it more bearable. “Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself countless nights before falling asleep and dreaming of hope it would all end, if not soon, at some point. 

“Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself after one night that you had too many drinks with Nix, you wish you could tell the same about Dick, but he would never allow himself to do so, but he also enjoyed the night out with his friends. It was only natural that you would end up following those two, after all, with some luck you ended up being assigned to help out Dick with the mess he was making at his office duties. After some time and after figuring out how to understand the man it became really enjoyable. 

Those nights that they would tell their stories for you to organize it down in a report for your superiors were as fun as they could be, given the circumstances.

Nix wouldn’t even bother to try to write his reports once he discovered how fast you could type and how concise you would turn Dick’s endless essays into comprehensive, yet detailed reports, soon enough you were helping both of your COs, your friends.

“(Y/N) I believe you have this weird super power, are you sure you are human?” Nix said after half a bottle of Vat-69, raising his eyebrows as if he was looking at you with this invisible magnifying glass. 

Dick only shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes you thought that they looked like one of those old married couples, knowing each other's quirks and peeves and yet somehow, finding it all amusing. You wondered if you could find someone like this in this God forsaken world you were living. 

One day you found it, but thinking back it wasn't easy at first and as it took some time to even lower your guard on your own brain, and allow yourself to think about it, about HIM. 

Ronald Speirs had quite a reputation, everybody knew the rumors, every man saw the things he so recklessly did on the field. His men were as afraid as the enemy, so it took you by surprise when after Foy he also started to hang out with you, Dick and Nix. The first time there was silence on the table after he arrived, you didn’t even had the chance to introduce yourself politely as Dick started out his endless questions about how the Easy men were doing, and then Nix introduced some drinks, yet you two never exchanged one word to each other before that day.

After a while his presence started to make you feel a little bit comfortable, especially after Dick assured you that he was a good man, a good leader and being a big brother figure, he wouldn’t let Speirs offer you a cigarette. Since then you could catch a glimpse at how his eyes shone even in the dark, how he looked tired after an operation. He wasn’t scary anymore, he was just another officer that from time to time would hang out with your friends.

After some time you started to get used to his presence around chasing Dick and Nix up and down, something you did yourself as they were like big brothers to you, protecting, giving their piece of advice and taking care of you. Soon enough you started to feel more comfortable around Speirs too, once you even called him Ronald after a couple of drinks.

Then one afternoon it took you by surprise when he knocked at your office, looking tired as hell with a pile of files on one hand, a pair of boots in the other one and a half burnt cigarette hanging on his lips.

“Sorry to disturb you (Y/L/N), but Nixon said you could help me out with this paperwork? I’ll be in real trouble if I don’t turn them in this evening. Also, he said you could use this one” Speirs told you while putting a tiny pair of combat boots on your desk and taking of his cap, not even giving you time to reply, not even looking at you.

“What in the name of god are you thinking? What the hell is Lewis thinking? You guys think I don’t have anything better to do, I have enough work to do, just look at this endless pile of work, so no, thank you, good luck” you said throwing your arms in exasperation, complaining and pointing out the huge paper files on your desk.

He stared at you in horror as if you were one of those german panzers, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words but he couldn’t. You felt a twist in your stomach, looking at him you could see he was embarrassed, you never saw him so vulnerable and tired, this man could use some proper sleep. As he was turning on his heels to leave while muttering sorry a thousand times, guilt took the best of you.

“Wait” you said, closing your eyes knowing right after the word left your mouth how stupid it would be, after all you could use some sleep too, you deserved it. He slowly turned to face you.

“I’ll do it, but you better help me out and you are not allowed to smoke while we do that, I hate the smell”

You could swear you saw an amused smile on his face when he threw his last pack of Luckys on your desk. Soon enough you prepared your typewriter checking if you had enough ribbon and paper for your work, finally you sat down and stared at the man in front of you, it took him a few seconds to realize you were ready to start. 

At some point he took his jacket off and slowly put it on the chair he was sitting on, took of his tie and rolled up his sleeves, you tried not to stare at the man in front of you. If he caught you looking up and down he never said a word. It was not the first time you stared at this much feared man, truth be told you caught yourself staring at him more than once. Nix being the observant little bitch he was had this creepy little smile when he caught you one night looking at the Easy captain. You muttered something like “I’m gonna kill you” and prayed to god that he could send the biggest crate of whisky he could find so Lewis would get so drunk he would forget it.

You cleaned your throat, took a deep breath and asked for a small pause to take a glass of water. The man nodded and took a few steps to the little window and watched the landscape outside until you said you were finally ready again. “Back to work” you said to yourself.

….. 

When you two finished the sun was no longer up, just in time for him to turn on the report. While working on he would tap his fingers on your desk and look nervously at the watch on his wrist, but he never complained or tried to hurry you up. He quickly looked at the papers you cautiously handed him and shook his head, approving the final result.

“So that’s it?” he asked you, his voice soft and quiet.

“Yes that’s it, just write your name over here and we’re done” you said pointing at the blank space you left over his name at the end of the paper. 

He asked if you could borrow a pen for him to use and said a few “thanks” while signing the paper before leaving your office and storming out in the direction of the HQ, he never returned your pen but you didn’t even mind.

Then after composing yourself by stretching your back and taking a sip of your already cold coffee you decided to head down to the closest pub you could find, but firstly you changed your boots. Nix was right as you could use some new ones, but since you were so small compared to the rest of the guys it was nearly impossible to find some fitting boots, yet Speirs somehow got his hand in a pair just of the right size.

When you finally arrived at the bar your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of the room, you then scanned the tables looking for Nix and Dick. When you recognized the friendly faces you started to move towards them, but then you felt a tap on your shoulders and turned to see who it was. 

“Hey excuse me Y/L/N, Captain Speirs asked me to hand you this” It was Lieutenant Lipton holding an envelope in his hand, like it was a classified piece of information that could change the war. This man took his duties very seriously, you thought to yourself as you took the envelope and put it in your pocket.

“Thank you Lieutenant” you said smiling at the officer in front of you, who smiled back and took his leave joining his men at the other table. 

You then walked to the barman and asked for a beer, when you were reaching into your pocket to find some money to pay the man he shook his head and his hands as if trying to say no, he paused a few seconds trying to remember the words in your language and explained the best way he could that someone had taken care of it, offered you some food, the most glorious, golden fried potatoes you’ve ever saw in your life.

As you walked down to the table holding your plate the Easy men stared at you as if you were a goddess walking on water or something, then started to shout at the barman asking for the same food. Dick and Nix exchanged a funny look between each other and Nix tried to take some of your fries before you slapped his hand. 

When you tried the first one you closed your eyes, it hit you like a full speed train crashing into a wall, so many emotions one after another, after months of terrible stinky food there was this little piece of heaven. You took a big gulp of the beer in front of you, and then someone put another pint in front of you, and then another one, and another one. You could swear it was the best feeling in quite some time, the men shouting and laughing all around you telling tales and jokes about Toccoa Camp, Sobel or Dike or some officer they hated, Nixon pestering Dick about something, all the stuff, all at once you almost forgot the place you were, what you were fighting for. 

Forgot….. 

Then you remembered the note that Speirs left you and you suddenly felt a rush that almost made you fall off your chair. You don’t know if it was the fourth (or fifth?) beer you had but you felt your hands trembling as you opened the envelope. Inside there was this carefully folded paper, you stared at it for some time before gathering the courage to open it, just to find this beautiful handwriting, you didn’t expect to come from the toughest son of a bitch in the entire army. 

“Dearest (Y/N),

Thank you so much for your help today. I will never forget it and I will find a way to repay you somehow. One night you said that as a kid you used to eat french fries when you were feeling down, so I took the liberty to ask Matthijs the barman to do something special for you. 

I hope it brings you a piece of home! Enjoy whatever you want, he is going to put on my account and don’t even try to argue with him or me about it”

Sincerely yours.

Capt. Ronald Speirs.

“P.S: I have some more paperwork due to the next week, I hope you don’t mind”

You smiled to yourself as you read it again and again, every time your heart would jump when you stopped at the YOU, your name written, your brain froze right there as if it could take a picture just by staring. You didn’t mind that he would eventually bring more work, because somehow he managed to do so, he brought you home. 

You were tired, drunk and your head was spinning a little but if someone ever asked you then yes: it was worth it.

[blackrosesociety-vampyres]

Vampire Community Research: Social History and Narrative Identity Themes Within Self-Identified Vampires

This article has originally been published on Black Rose Society's website: https://blackrosesociety.sauromatos.com/vampire-community-research-social-functioning-and-narrative-identity-themes-within-self-identified-vampires/

We interviewed our very own Luna Luv about her ongoing research project on the narrative themes in identity development and social history of people within the Vampire Community. In providing you with a closer look into some of the goals, challenges and other details pertaining to this research effort, it is our hope you will be motivated to be part of the survey and tell your friends.

Black Rose Society is assisting Vampire Community Researcher Luna Luv with hosting a survey that hopes to identify trends in the social history and identity formation of self-identified vampires. The results of this independent study will be drafted up into an article/paper titled “Social Functioning and Narrative Identity Themes Within Self-Identified Vampires,” which will be published and distributed exclusively within the vampire community, including the Black Rose Society’s website.

You are invited to share the link to this survey between your friends within the community. We are looking for responses from all corners of the Online Vampire Community

Our purpose: Self-identified vampires, that is, people who choose to identify themselves as a vampire or as possessing vampiric traits, often come from vastly different philosophical and ideological backgrounds. This survey asks for historical accounts from individuals who identify as vampires (or vampire-adjacent, i.e. medsangs, vampirekin, etc.) which pertain to both their identity and social development. Responses, while anonymous, will assist us in finding trends in social history and identity narrative development that may exist between identity types, or further serve to individuate them.

This survey will take approximately 10-20 minutes to complete. Responses cannot be saved to come back to later, so please set aside appropriate time for yourself to complete the survey. Please provide as much or as little information as you are comfortable.

NOTE: SIGNING INTO A GOOGLE ACCOUNT IS REQUIRED TO PREVENT APPLICANTS FROM FILLING OUT THE SURVEY MULTIPLE TIMES. NO ACCOUNT DATA IS STORED OR RECORDED BY THE RESEARCHERS INVOLVED.

TAKE THE SURVEY

Interview with Researcher Luna Luv

BRS: What motivated you to conduct a survey?

Luna Luv: I’ve always had a lot of interest in why people do what they do, vamps included. I don’t think there’s ever going to be a concise answer to that question, but I do think that there are ways of getting a little bit closer to that understanding in some cases. Extending from that, I thought that this research area might be very valuable, especially since psychological perspectives have generally been considered distasteful within the community — and definitely not for no reason. Most articles in psych journals mentioning “real vampires” are often sensationalist or align us all with sexual deviancy and/or pica, which in my opinion displays a fundamental misunderstanding or perhaps disinterest in our psychology. I thought a survey like this would be a way of showing the community that a psychological approach isn’t intrinsically invalidating, and can actually serve to provide us with meaningful insight into what makes us align with the archetype “vampire.” I figured a survey would be a good way of obtaining some qualitative and quasi-quantitative data on the topic.

BRS: How have the responses been so far?

Luna Luv: I’ve really been surprised by how much interest this has gotten. The survey has only been out for around 3 months and we already have close to 60 responses. I definitely see us being able to hit our goal of 100 by the 1-year mark, and hopefully if this keeps up we’ll be able to greatly surpass it. I’m really humbled by how many people have reached out to me and expressed the potential value they see in the study, and I’m so excited to share what we find with the community.

BRS: Can you tell us about your background?

Luna Luv: I’ve got a Master’s degree in mental health counseling and am currently working out of the US, with hopes to pursue a doctoral degree in psychology in the future. Consider this survey practicing for my thesis, haha. As for my relationship to the vampire community, I’m a lifelong medsang who only discovered the word roughly 5 years ago. I’ve dabbled a bit in the offline scene but I’ve made my home in the online spaces, primarily Black Rose Society.

BRS: What are your goals for this survey?

Luna Luv: My primary goal is to identify if the existing relationships we’ve seen between one’s social development (how they learn where they belong) and identity development (how they learn who they are) can extend to the development of one’s vampiric identity, and if so, what the primary influential factors are. What lessons have we learned to tell ourselves, and when did we learn them? Or what other struggles may run parallel — perhaps our vampiric self-discovery coincided with other unique discoveries about ourselves, such as our gender identity or sexuality. I believe it would be worthwhile to see if we can find any significant correlations in these areas.

BRS: What is the timeline for obtaining the results?

Luna Luv: Initially, I wanted to run data collection from March 2024 to March 2025 and have the paper out by the end of the year. However, considering how much traction this survey has gotten thus far, and how we’ve only recently begun expanding to other social media sites, that deadline is likely to be pushed. I wish I could give a definitive answer — all I can say is that I’m going to try for December 2025, but this may not end up being feasible. 2026 at the latest! Haha

BRS: What challenges did you encounter while organizing this survey in the OVC?

Luna Luv: Honestly, and I should’ve expected this — mistrust. Which is entirely fair; the Vampire Community holds anonymity as something sacred, and in designing this survey it was my intention to preserve our respondents’ anonymity as much as possible. The purpose of utilizing Google Forms to host the survey, in addition to not having access to a more secure survey-hosting site at the time of development, is to prevent (or at least minimize) the submission of multiple responses. However, this requires a respondent to log into a Gmail account, which a few people were not thrilled by. This is why I make a point to emphasize that no account data is stored or recorded by any of the researchers involved in the study, and the email address utilized to access the study is not collected.

BRS: Are there any potential biases, either from your role as the survey organizer or among the participants?

Luna Luv: Oh, absolutely. The primary one being that the survey is being shared almost exclusively through social media, and as such the majority of the responses involve people who primarily participate in the online community. Unfortunately, I personally do not have much access to offline community spaces which may be able to blast this study to community members who may otherwise not see it. Regarding my own biases, I definitely have my own perspective on vampirism based in my personal experiences and knowledge-base. I do not intend on hiding this fact — rather, I simply wish to add my own perspective to the pool of discussions surrounding the nature of whatever it is we’re all going through. Perhaps we will find a more substantial relationship between the specific flavor of one’s vampiric identity and other common factors in their social development history, or even demographic information.

BRS: Lastly, is there anything you would like to say to our readership?

Luna Luv: I appreciate each and every one of you for taking the time to even look at my little project. I’m not trying to pretend that this is some extremely thorough and well-put-together study that’s going to have groundbreaking ramifications on the community… This is just something that I’m really interested in and passionate about, and I’m so humbled by how many people have expressed interest in what I’m doing. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for the support I’ve gotten. Thank you all so much for reading, and participating if you have!

BLACK ROSE SOCIETY 2024

[niteshade925]

Just a short post on the topic, since I intend to reserve the long version for my culture sideblog where this kind of post should belong:

Since many people (esp people in the west) tend to misunderstand what “Mandate of Heaven” really is, I’ll just explain it in a concise way.  “Mandate of Heaven”, or 天命, which really should be translated as the “Will of Heaven” or “Heaven’s Will”, actually reflects “the will of the people”.  I’m too lazy right now so I’ll just copy paste what I wrote in an addendum to someone else’s post:

Instead, "heaven" is better understood as "nature", one which can "reflect" the opinion of the people like a weird mirror of sorts.  To understand what Mandate of Heaven means, one absolutely must understand what "Unity of Heaven and Humanity"/天人合一 means.  In this concept, the opinions, thoughts, and actions of humans (not just ruling class people) are echoed by "heaven".  Which means that, yes, this concept is really all about the people.  Ideally, anyway.  This also means that every time a natural disaster happened, it was seen as the people's discontent or the ruler's mistakes/wrongdoings reflected in nature.  Thus, we see that when natural disasters happen in history, the emperor might issue a public confession (called 罪己诏, or "Edict of Self-Blame"), in the hopes that "heaven" (people by extension) might cease its wrath.  Sometimes these "signs from heaven" were also used as justifications for rebellions and uprisings like OP mentioned above, sometimes also usurpations.

And:

Now we come to the part of why I said "ideally".  In ancient China, there was a special social class that held just as much power as the emperor (sometimes even more than the emperor, for example the Three Kingdoms period).  This class was called shi/士 (sometimes translated as "scholar officials" or "literati"), and may be understood as the class of "elites" in ancient China.  Shi elites often exist in the form of clans or families who have a sort of "monopoly" on governmental positions, and they are not simply rich people or landowners or nobles.  Most importantly, they have knowledge, and they can control the dispersal of knowledge.  It was the shi elites who came up with this concept of "Unity of Heaven and Humanity", which meant they have the final say in what the "signs from heaven" actually meant.  In theory, the "humanity" in this concept should encompass all people, but in practice, it really only meant the shi elites.  So in the end, it was a nice idea, but its overwhelming reliance on human interpretation made it so historically the situation often became a tug of war between the ruler and the shi elites, and not the people putting a check on the actions of the ruling class.

To add on to that, here are more concepts associated with 天/Heaven:

天 (Heaven):  Heaven in traditional Chinese thought represents the supreme morals and natural laws of the universe, and is not a god (which means it is also not “the” god).  It’s above all gods.  It does not have a form and unlike many other deities in Chinese religions and culture, is not visually anthropomorphized.  It is also different from 老天爷 (”Old ‘Ye’ Heaven”) in common vernacular.

天道 (Heaven’s Way):  the natural laws by which everything in the world exists, operates, and changes.  Can also mean causality, as in the phrase “天道轮回，报应不爽” (”The Way of Heaven cycles around, and retribution will come sooner or later”; the implication is that if one does bad things, because of this cause and effect it will eventually come back to bite them in the ass).

天行 (Heaven’s Workings):  literally the way Heaven operates, or just the laws of nature.  As in “天行有常，不为尧存，不为桀亡” (”Heaven’s Workings is constant; it shall not exist because of a benevolent ruler like Yao, and shall not disappear because of a tyrannical ruler like Jie”) from 《荀子·天论》.

天理 (Heaven’s Principles):  the natural laws of the world, the supreme morals, and the ultimate truth.  Often used as the ultimate moral basis, as in “天理昭彰” (”Heaven’s Principles are clear and evident”; means that Heaven will uphold justice, punish those who are evil and reward those who are good).

天命 (Heaven’s Will):  the will of nature (which includes all people).  See above.

[theworldwalkerswols]

Alt text: Please note repeated tags and numbered tweets indicating thread progression have been omitted. 

Twitter thread by user G’raha Tia @/graha_tia on Jan 1, 2022

RADZ-AT-HAN SCENE ANALYSIS: G'RAHA TAKES CHARGE (and makes the fans collapse into a collective sobbing heap) 

G'raha's flight, fight, or freeze response is 'Assume Full Command and Take Charge of the Situation' and I think it's the most amazing thing.

The guy is surrounded by people who are literally exploding into horrifying, rampaging monsters & the leader of those people was just devoured alive in front of him, and he kicks into high gear & gains control of everybody in under twenty seconds.

It shows his leadership experience as the Exarch, and how many crises and horrors he must have endured throughout his time during the 8th Umbral Calamity and the Flood of Light on the First. Everything about the scene is so perfectly done, too.

G'raha doesn't just pull out his weapon and start screaming orders - he positions himself in the middle of the space so everyone can have a clear line of sight to him, and he to them. This not only makes it easier for everyone visually, but places him at a vulnerable yet defendable point of reference - everyone (including the Blasphemies) can get to him with relative ease and he, as both a healer and combatant, can get to them quickly if needed. He straightens his posture, pulls back his shoulders, tucks his chin a little, and starts speaking slowly from his chest and diaphragm-which drops his pitch half an octave, adding bass & power, and makes his voice carry without much effort and with absolute clarity over the shrieks of the Blasphemies and the sounds of fighting. 

His commands are simple & concise, which is vastly different from his normal talkative demeanor & shows his familiarity with similar situations - after all, it's hard for people in crisis mode to listen & process anything complicated. He's able to break things down to short, digestable phrases: "defend this point", "run here for safety", "REMAIN CALM," and makes it very easy for people both panicking & fighting for their lives to understand & follow.

He has such a strong presence that everyone around just instinctively listens - not a single person questions his authority or decisions, despite most of them having no clue who he is. He establishes himself immediately as a steady rock in the middle of the (almost literal) storm, and even the people who don't know him can feel his reliability & gravitate towards it. The entire scene is just absolutely perfect to me, from the animation & cinematography, to the superb voice acting, to the music and sound design (the cries of the Blasphemies [were] positively bone chilling)... Phenomenal, and one of my favorites from the expansion, not only because it's G'raha. 

A visceral, horrifying experience that compounded & solidified the dire nature of the situation into players' minds, and started a long chain of even more terrifying scenes of tragedy (because objectively the Palaka's Stand arc was one of the most distressing). 

But despite the fear & dread the story always reminded us that even the darkest moments had light. 

Whether it was G'raha standing tall in Radz-At-Han, the WoL & twins fighting their way to Palaka's Stand, or even dear Matsya & the teachings of his faith--it was a constant, well-executed reminder to keep the hope. 

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk! 

I'm so happy to have experienced such a phenomenal, thought-provoking, heartfelt story and honestly have much more to say about everything, but perhaps that'll be for another time. <3

Attached at the end of the thread is a meme image of a man sitting at a table on a campus. The sign on the table reads “ENDWALKER IS THE BEST YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND”

alt text end.

--

This thread perfectly encapsulates why this moment was so powerful! It also is so COMPLICATED, character wise, because just before he takes charge, he sighs and it sounds distorted to me, like the voices of those who are beginning to succumb.

[bengiyo]

Marahuyo Project Eps 7 & 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last time, the kids struggled to pick a name for their LGBTQIA+ organization while discussing their strategy before the school board. They eventually decided to focus on connecting their hopes for the island's future with its past, and set about researching. Archie gave Venice some files from the church, Lorie looked through files her dad had, and Ino suggested interviewing people after providing equipment. We learned that Archie is struggling with the path to holy orders (manifested in his neck scratching), Ino said aloud that he was gay and kissed King, and Lili is probably intersex. Each of our our kids is holding confidence about this. Lili read Marco for filth, read him for blood, but unfortunately we left at Marco outing her.

Episode 7: Aswang

You know King isn't the violent type, because some of my people would have curb stomped his ass by now.

Oh, Ino. I understand.

Okay, Lili's story is so sad and lonely. I'm glad she told Lili before this.

Oof, Lorie was not ready for the friends to lovers kiss.

That was difficult, but King is right. He shouldn't ask Ino to come out, but it doesn't stop him from getting hurt.

King's grandmother is great. It's making me sad that Ino has no one else to talk to after that.

Wow, Marco is really doubling down on being an asshole.

I appreciate this show now disguising the kinds of casual homophobia you run into.

It's hard to recognize when you need to give someone you love space when you want to help.

I do like the idea of them reclaiming the balagtasan as a way to present their ideas to the island.

I knew it was Ino who graffitied the mural.

Gay people really will turn their relationship problems into a public spectacle.

This poetry is beautiful.

Oh, Ino, I'm proud of you.

My boy is bleeding!! Marco, it's on sight!!

Man, what a concise breakdown of how it feels to know your truth and have your caregivers try to stifle that in you for the sake of appearances.

Episode 8: Babaylan

Ino and King opening up old wounds.

Yes, King, tell your mom. Shame is learned at home. A kid can face the world if they're safe at home.

I love King so much for not sugarcoating how bad public scorn can get.

Swimming at night is very dangerous, but I'm always happy to receive an underwater kiss BECAUSE IT STILL BELONGS TO THE GAYS.

Oh good. Lorie and Lili are finally talking.

See, this is the thing about doing queer media versus making QL sometimes. Apologizing for loving someone is such a queer experience. Your love isn't something that you should be ashamed of, and you shouldn't have to apologize for caring a lot about someone.

This feels like the right place for these two as friends to possibly more.

Oh shit Lili got me when she held back tears at getting best friends.

It really is exhausting how hard authority works constantly to police and enforce heteronormativity. There are so few of us. Why is it always this constant bullshit?

Oof, I actually like this choice to have Archie vote to impeach Ino, become the new president, and then immediately return to the site where they honored Christina to cry about it. Venice understands that taking care of other queers is a long term project. At least Archie said her name.

Many of my beloved elders have passed. I wish I could talk to them sometimes. Especially Barry.

I love that Venice is eating in almost every scene.

Hey! They finally picked a name!

I love how homophobes talk about history, and then storm out when confronted with uncomfortable truths.

Crying over these outfits. They're so right. Formal acceptance by the status quo doesn't erase our existence, or the bonds between us. We will make space for ourselves and those like us.

Oh, Archie. I understand you, too. I hope you find peace with yourself and others.

I love Sue Prado, but does the mom really deserve to be here? I'll accept them trying to extend grace to struggling parents since Grandma has been with them the whole time.

This march works though. Before it was only three of them. Now look at them.

A post credits scene! Wait, I love the idea of Juvy and Jose going to visit them!

Final Verdict: 9.5, Finally Some Good Fucking Food. I am just so relieved to have another show from JP Habac. It's clear he and his friends have such strong ideas about where queer people fit in our society today, and I love that his work is never about defeating homophobia and is instead about connecting others to queer joy. Despite how this show stirred up all sorts of old hurts in me, I feel so much love for these characters, and I'm so thankful that I can point to a show with a wide spectrum of queer experiences delivered in such a beautiful package. It's so rare to see a show treat the closet seriously, and I will be thinking about this show forever, alongside JP's previous work: Gaya sa Pelikula (aka Like in the Movies).

[bodycountgame]

Hello! I was a big fan of the series a while a go and it is lovely to see that you are back. I'm terribly sorry that other anons put you through a lot with the voting aspect of the game. Absolutely no one deserves death threats for a story that they are bringing to us for free. However, I am not going to lie, I always feel a bit worried when a fandom majority vote is what has long lasting effects on character life/death. It was ok when it was everyone voting with an equal effect. Now there will be a wealth gap to vote. Only people that pay can contribute. And at least where I'm from wealth looks a certain kind of way.

Since you have characters that are in a minority it feels... Bad. Maybe I'm projecting how racist and transphobic my home country is on the vote for this game. I also don't want you to feel like this is an attack on you because that is not my intent at all! I love the diversity in the love interests and it was what brought me to the game initially. I am worried that if you do a majority vote on Patreon that characters that aren't white/cis will face a harsher vote. Trans lives are in danger and I was not surprised when a nonbinary character died first. I was part of the fandom and people treated them very grossly (it actually made me step away for a bit as well). There were many options but the vocally out and proud person got the boot first. What I'm saying is I trust you more than your Patreon supporters. If the people can't all vote as one, due to the actions of some terrible people, then maybe we shouldn't vote at all

anon, i totally understand your concerns because i absolutely shared them. to be completely honest with you, i had totally misjudged which characters i thought were popular or not and watching the three non binary cast members struggle through that first vote felt Bad. my personal disappointment about ellis being the character to receive the least votes in the vote contributed in no small part to the twist in chapter 3 and their revised arc (which was Not planned when i set out writing body count hahaha). howeverrrrrr, i did learn a lot from the process.

my main motivator behind making the vote patreon exclusive was that the voters would be genuinely invested in the game and that the polling would be much harder to game or manipulate. selfishly, i also think it will reduce a certain amount of the absolute barrage of wild anons from the first time around haha!

in addition to that, though, i think its important that i reaffirm what i have said from the start: i am acutely aware that in interactive fiction in general and particularly on tumblr there is a strong preference for white male characters, and i am not here to write some kind of gross POC/women/nb slasher. as much as i want the audience to have a say in the direction the story takes, i ultimately have final say on what happens in the story that i am writing.

the main way that i intend to have oversight of the voting process is by who appears on the polls in the first place; the first poll was the last time the whole cast will be available for a vote at the same time. since ellis, one of three NB cast members, was the first character to die, i've said that neither of the other NB cast members will appear on future polls. if it's women and POC suffering in the next vote, then i'll be applying similar logic. if that means we get towards the end and we need a white boy only poll then so be it!

that said, if people cannot behave then i will simply take away their toys. although i consider the voting mechanic to be one of the things that makes body count unique and fun, i'm absolutely not above doing away with it if there are Shenanigans that spoil it, ya know?

anyway, i hope that assuages some of your concerns! sorry for another giant wall of text wow i simply cannot answer a question concisely atm

[nothorses]

as i understand you and your friends have a habit of taking what can be called the "ben shapiro argument method" (taking what someone says and misconstruing it enough that they have no way to respond without looking bad, even though it has nothing to do with what was originally stated, nor does the opposer raise any real points), i have decided to present this as a nice, clear, and concise numbered list, so i hope you can respond in a way that makes sense for once! :) 1. it was not private, that person posted it on a publicly available blog, the person in question chose to make this public 2. huge difference between what you're describing and FANTASIZING about that and "corrective rape" for transgender women and cisgender lesbians as well, which is what happened 3. i never said i disagreed that trans people should come together against transphobia, i said that the word "transunitism" sounds fascist, because it does 4. unlike the person in question, i am anonymous, i am choosing to stay private, you have no right to know what i do or do not enjoy. hell, you don't even know if i am an adult, and making a leap like that is a really dangerous thing you should reassess, because if this keeps coming up, as it has proven to, and people keep saying this, as they have been proven to. you will inevitably land yourself in deep shit.

sure, let's play.

it was a (password-protected, afaik) kink roleplay blog marked NSFW and restricted to adults. that's not the same as consent, for anything. it is especially not consent to spread shit around to random individuals who also, like, do not want to fucking hear about it (as I do not) (that's also sexual harassment btw. if you even care).

what I am describing is literally what happened. what I am telling you is a. not contradicted by anything he has said elsewhere, and b. what he told me. at minimum, you should not be making the assumption or claim that the kink is his without iron-clad proof, regardless of whether or not you believe me that it was someone else's.

literally do you hear yourself.

you are saying that you believe the only difference between situations where it is or is not okay to judge a person by their kinks, spread them around to strangers, and encourage harassment against them-- is whether that information has been made available to you (even if this was not consensual).

buddy. hey.

I don't want to know about your fucking kinks, you absolute buffoon.

these tags?

blatant sarcasm. I am mocking you, because your logic is all the way unhinged.

it would be literally horrific if everyone was expected or required to publicly state their every sexual interest, fantasy, kink, thought, or act so that the entire rest of the world could judge their morality and determine how worthy of harassment they were based on fucking Thought Crime.

but your argument hinges on the assumption that everyone should know about the sexual roleplay this guy did at the request of his transfem partner a few years ago, because it makes him dangerous that he has this kink (even though he doesn't actually have this kink).

so here's my question:

how do we know you don't have these kinks? how can we be sure you're not just hiding them? anon, you could be the biggest rape fetishist in the world for all anyone else knows! you are literally anonymous- who's to say you don't have a sex roleplay blog where you act out even more scandalous and non-normative sexual fantasies? I certainly don't have any way to know!

if the only thing that makes you a "good person" here is that nobody knows about your kinks (yet), then this truly has nothing to do with the kinks themselves.

I don't want to fucking know your kinks, anon. I also didn't want to know his. I don't fucking care, I did not consent to any of this, and neither did he. both of us, and many others, have asked explicitly and for years now for this to please, please stop.

and yet here you are.

[subskz]

hello my love! i'm finally here with the requested knowledge, sorry it took so long! ♡ i consulted my book written by the founders of mbti, and here are the results:

entps are original, individual, independent and perceptive. they are tireless at what interests them but find it hard to get other things done. they are full of ideas and operate by impulsive energy. they are very strong in initiative and creative impulse, value inspiration and have the power to inspire others. they are versatile, very clever, enthusiastic and they don't shy away from a discussion/debate! they are also very analytical and would make amazing inventors or scientists. our lovely grindset is very cool indeed 🩷

when it comes to intps: just like entps, they are analytical, independent, full of ideas and very perceptive. however, they tend to be a bit more reserved, outwardly quiet and detached. they are also curious and adaptable, persevering and are thought to be the most intellectually profound of all the types! many intps are university professors or theorists. our beloved catboy anon is a brainiac 🫶

the two types share a deep bond based on their passion for exploring ideas and engaging in discussions together! 😸 they inspire each other and engage each other intellectually. they can grow together and have a very meaningful and long-lasting connection. in a way, the two types mirror each other and can find a space for mutual understanding. 🌸

it sounds very lovely in my opinion. 😸 i hope this has been at least a little bit helpful and accurate! feel free to summon me anytime ♡ -🌻 (the real sunflower anon)

hello hello my angel!! there’s no need to apologize at all the fact that you took the time to look into it and explain it to us is so kind of you, thank you so much ㅠㅠ esp to be so thorough that u read ur official mbti book…as expected of you!! 🥰

the way u describe them is so cool entp and intp almost remind of those misunderstood geniuses you see in movies…and i definitely see a lot of those traits you mentioned in our dearest catboy and grindset! especially grindset w her cleverness LMAO im always amazed by the details she catches on to and how witty her sense of humor is 😭 and she’s always sparking fun discussions here! (remembering the astrology debate of 2022)

our beloved catboy is a braniac‼️ i think the part abt being full of ideas speaks for itself hehe their genius brain never rests and they come up w some of the most deliciously creative concepts i’ve ever seen!! everything has that special catboy anon twist to it~ and they’ll probably try to deny the intellectually profound part but i know firsthand that it’s true >:)

“the two types mirror each other and can find a space for mutual understanding” that really does sound lovely 💗 u explained it so well and concisely esp for me who doesnt know much abt mbti! thank you again my dearest wife i appreciate ur thoughtful analysis so much and im sure catboy n grindset will too <33

[cosmicjoke]

Hi Cosmic! I wanted to reach out and send some positivity your way amidst all the unnecessary hate you've been receiving from anons. It's truly baffling to me why people feel the need to spread negativity like that and why you're being targeted. 

I just want to express how much I appreciate your blog. It's honestly one of my favorites, and your character analyses, especially those focusing on Levi, are incredibly insightful and eloquent. Levi holds a special place in my heart as my all-time favorite character, and I genuinely believe you have a deep understanding of him. Your analyses always provide such thoughtful and concise insights into his character and motivations. Personally, I often find it challenging to outwardly articulate my thoughts for a character in a cohesive manner, so when I read your posts on Levi, it's like a wave of validation washes over—someone out there gets it haha! You've even pointed out aspects of him that I hadn't considered before. Finding a blog like yours has been a real highlight for me on here. 

Anyway, I hope this message brings a bit of brightness to your day. Navigating fandom spaces can be draining, and I've had my fair share of frustrations with it too. But please don't let these anonymous messages diminish your love for Levi or your passion for analyzing media. You're incredibly talented at it, and I hope you know that. Take care of yourself. 🩵

Man, first, I just want to say, with all my heart, thank you so much for this! I can't tell you how much it means to me, especially after dealing with the deluge of anon hate that seems to have been flooding my inbox lately, haha. To know you enjoy my blog and my analyses posts so much, and that it helps you feel acknowledge and validated in your love for Levi in particular, is such a huge compliment. Levi holds a special place in my heart as well, and all I really want when I write about him, or any piece of media, is to help other people appreciate him more and also to maybe help people understand him better, since Levi is, in so many ways, a misunderstood character, it seems.

Anyway, this really did brighten my evening, so again, I can't thank you enough! I hope you continue to enjoy my blog and hopefully the anon hate will stop soon, though I wouldn't hold my breath, lol.

Thank you again!

[andrewuttaro]

What the Sacred Heart of Jesus tells us about a relationship with him

Last month I wrote about the Blessed Virgin Mary and her Sacred Yes. Half a love letter to mothers, half an exegesis on how God loves us so much that he gives us nonstop choices in life. I hope the whole thing showed those less acquainted with Catholic devotion to Mary how she ultimately is pointing us to her son Jesus Christ in everything she does. That was in part inspired by May being regarded as Mary’s month among Catholics in alignment with Mother’s Day. The month of June has the popular devotion of the Sacred Heart of Jesus associated with it.

This devotion is also distinctly Catholic, even more so than Mariology which we Catholics share with Eastern Orthodoxy and the other ancient Churches within Christianity. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is a devotion so rich yet so strongly compacted into such a small package. I always write this, but I actually did not know where to start with this one. The symbolism here unfolds into a crash course guide to a relationship with Jesus.

You might recognize the thumbnail image of the Sacred Heart: often pictured with the crown of thorns, the wound representing Jesus getting lanced in the side on the cross (often even showing a sword or lance going in), a cross on top, and that distinctive fire. It’s a starkly visible way of indicating what Jesus is all about when he loves us. It also teaches us how we might respond.

So let’s dive into the Sacred Heart devotion: not just its history and practice but also what it means to how we might approach our relationship with Jesus nowadays. I would be a bad writer if I didn’t consider where my readers might be coming from. When we talk about this devotion we are talking about something that strikes to the heart of how we Christians, in all our varieties, conceive of being in relationship with God as a lived experience.

No matter what Christian tradition you came from, maybe none at all, its worth pointing out toward the beginning here that the subtly of devotion is always influenced by cultural time and place. Nowadays many Americans might envision a large concert hall as a worship space just as good as an old stone Church. To each his own as long as you understand the cultural influences that might drive you to your preferred worship and devotional practices.

What isn’t a matter of taste in Christian thought is the personal relationship with Jesus itself. While its fair to say Christian traditions of a high-liturgy background, as we Religious Studies wonks say, have often de-emphasized the more personal acceptance driven elements of that core relationships in favor of sacramentality (think Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and the other Eastern Churches when I say high-liturgy); it’s not fair however to say that sense of Sacramental exchange is a substitute for the personal relationship with Christ so heavily emphasized in Protestant circles in our day and age to the forsaking of everything else.

What you’re noticing in that are actually different cultural preferences hardened over centuries and filtered through more modern proclivities. Normally what we notice about each other’s religious practices is what seems different. The differences are often cultural performance, not anything fundamental to the faith itself.

While Protestant circles are often so focused on a culturally palatable personal acceptance that they struggle to nail down a consistent community identity, personal acceptance looks far less culturally palatable in high-liturgy traditions to the point the community identity is a bit too distinctive sometimes. That last sentence might be the most concise summation of the Christian culture in the United States I have ever written.

For example I often feel I can tell you most everything you need to know about a Catholic by how difficult they think it is to commit a mortal sin. Is it easy? Rigorist conservative. Is it hard? Solidarist progressive. Perhaps the Protestant equivalent of that would be music taste. Do they prefer contemporary music? Evangelical conservative. Do they prefer traditional hymns? Mainline liberal.

Either way, when you see other Christians doing things you don’t like you should ask yourself: am I seeing an actual religious difference or simply a cultural preference?

With that disclaimer out of the way let’s take a trip back in time for some context. Actually, one last note before the history: the visions of Jesus experienced by St. Margaret Mary Alacoque are endorsed by the Catholic Church but are not doctrinal or dogmatic beliefs. That is to say you are not obliged by your confession of the faith to believe the story or visions that I am about to share with you. The term we often ascribe to these kinds of originating events for more recent devotions is personal revelation: as in, not binding, universal revelation that informs the basics of the religious beliefs, but personal insights that might help others in their own personal devotion.

The History

The year is 1673. The Protestant Reformation is finally beginning to become a piece of history instead of a day-to-day reality. Religious Wars have torn Europe apart for a century. 25 years earlier the Peace of Westphalia had ended the Thirty Years War, the most destructive such religious war in Europe, which had killed eight million people mostly from starvation and disease. The modern nation state is in its infancy. The world is still dominated by monarchies that claim absolute power if they don’t in fact possess it.

Religion is often written into governing documents and mandates though most leaders are now using it as mere pretext to fight over political and economic interests more than actually fighting over any faith itself. Religion is still central to the lives of most everyone in this time and place, but the highest levels of society have abandoned litigating the Reformation any further for fear of the agony it had caused for so many.

In this world we find a young woman named Margaret Alacoque. Her early life is defined by suffering as her father died from pneumonia when she was eight years old. Alacoque’s uncle now possessed the family’s assets and horded them for himself leaving her family destitute. She herself took ill for four years before making a vow to religious life. Soon thereafter she was healed and, crediting her healing to the Blessed Virgin Mary, added Mary to her baptismal name.

Margaret Mary Alacoque’s family fortunes turned around as well. Her brothers took possession of the household lifting them all out of poverty, and Margaret Mary, now an adult woman, considered abandoning the vow of her childhood as her mother encouraged her to pursue marriage. She went to social events with her brothers in pursuit of a husband but often struggled personally with what she was going to do with her life. Sounds familiar, eh?

It was after such a social event that Margaret Mary felt called back to Christ. Though Jesus was firmly calling her back to her first love, he also expressed so much love and mercy toward Margaret Mary and her struggles to see the right way forward. This would become the pattern of the whole devotion she would take up.

Margaret Mary became a religious sister with Visitation Nuns who attended to the sick and needy. She again struggled to see her way in all this: now she struggled to adapt to the often unnoticed, difficult work of her monastic community. As any helping professional knows intimately: helping others in need does not necessarily lead to gratitude or a more just world. The indifferent suffering of the world which was so evident everywhere around her and in her own life overwhelmed Margaret Mary. Jesus would again help her in her struggles. Beginning December 21st, 1674, Margaret Mary received multiple visions of Jesus presence with his Sacred Heart extended out to her.

Her revelations came at a price Saints often face. Theologians of her time called them delusions. Some of her own fellow religious sisters rebuked her. A doctor said she was losing her mind and needed to eat more. Yes, a person claiming to practice whatever medicine was in the 17th century thought this woman just needed to eat more to cure whatever this was! Her revelations received only some recognition before her death at age 43.

Like with many Saints her devotion had a much bigger impact once she joined the Communion of Saints in Heaven. The Sacred Heart of Jesus image and message spread far and wide in the ensuing decades and centuries to the point Pope Pius IX declared a solemnity for it in 1856 for the Friday after Corpus Christi. By the time Pope Benedict XV canonized her a Saint in 1920, her devotional practice was widespread to the point Churches were being named after her and the Sacred Heart. My own Diocesan Cathedral here in Rochester, New York is named in honor of the Sacred Heart.

The Practice and the Image

The practice that St. Margaret Mary Alacoque would keep up for the rest of her life and grow into one of the most popular devotions in Catholicism, was charmingly simple. Often seen as reparation for the cold, ingratitude of the suffering world, the French mystic had a Holy Hour in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on Thursday nights in commemoration of Jesus’ own isolated sorrow in the Garden of Gethsemane. This was followed by another Holy Hour on Friday, particularly the First Friday of each month paired with the reception of Holy Communion as well.

This devotion often includes a Novena and, especially for laypeople, the enshrinement of an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in a place of honor in your living space. I won’t summarize them beyond a quick list here, but St. Margaret Mary was also given twelve promises by Jesus for those engaging in this devotion. They are so very focused on personal graces that devotees are encouraged to frequently reconsider how the Sacred Heart of Jesus might impact the specific conditions of their own lives.

Jesus gives all graces necessary for your unique state of life.

Jesus gives us peace in our families.

Jesus consoles us in all our troubles.

Jesus is our refuge in life and especially in death.

Jesus will bless all our right efforts.

Jesus’ heart will be an infinite ocean of mercy for sinners.

Jesus will give your fervor where you are tepid.

Jesus will elevate the fervorous toward perfection.

Jesus will bless those places where the image of the Sacred Heart is venerated.

Jesus will give priests the power to touch hardened hearts.

Jesus will reward those who propagate this devotion.

Jesus will preserve devotees from dying in his displeasure (i.e. in mortal sin) and give them a happy death with sufficient access to the sacraments.

One of the things I love about most Catholic devotions is that they benefit from how distinctively pre-modern they are. Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is a relatively recently emerging devotion in the grand scope of the history of Catholicism. Nonetheless, this devotion bears the hallmarks of arising in a time before literacy was widespread.

Yes, I love how old timey taverns once had giant wooden beer mugs hanging off the side. I like knowing what I am getting into. Sue me! The Sacred Heart of Jesus is a devotion with a very low barrier to entry. If you know about the essential elements of Jesus’ story you’re already halfway there. Moreover, I think we need visual symbolism to really ground ourselves religiously. I am someone who might be accused of having his head in the clouds so I can appreciate the way an image like this, drawing from scripture, illustrates the relational core of our faith to us in starkly visual terms.

Where to start? The most sublime detail you notice with the Sacred Heart is that it’s meant to look like an anatomical heart. That is, the kind of heart beating in your chest right now, not the kind you draw on a card to a loved one.

Theologically this is a reference to Jesus’ two natures: most Christians believe he was both fully human and fully divine with no conflict therein. The Hypostatic Union as this is called, hits hard in this context when you put yourself in St. Margaret Mary Alacoque’s shoes. She knew suffering intimately as a feature of her own life and of the people in her time and place in history, particularly over religion. It is as if to say to the people of that early post-reformation world that if you all truly love Jesus you ought not be killing each other over him. Jesus had all the power and did not kill anyone, in fact the opposite: he resurrected multiple people!

Jesus’ Sacred Heart being anatomical would have expressed a gritty realism that makes God’s love for us real, not just a neat idea to be periodically set aside like any other possession. It still does have that effect if you ask me: how galling for God to confront you with the visceral truth that God cares so much about what goes on in your physical reality?

How might the realism of Jesus’ Sacred Heart, reminding us he was human too, help us to make our convictions real in messy, sometimes brutally ugly lived experiences?

If you are a sassy soul like me you might next notice the wound on the side of the heart representing Jesus getting lanced in the side on the cross. Yes, this is often considered where the euphemism “bleeding heart” came from. Yes, it’s often deployed as a mockery of the generous and kind… even though that mockery would seem to mock the very Sacred Heart of Jesus himself. Ah, I don’t know, seems like an insult that says more about the one dealing the insult than the one receiving it.

A bleeding heart, a living heart in other words, might also evoke constancy, a steadiness that is worthy of our faith. Not just a steadiness, a real anatomical heart bleeding evokes the real deal: love that is not fickle or passing. The ones who bleed for you love you the most. The ones who suffer for you are authentic friends, if not family already.

Where am I hardening my heart as to avoid the painful, bleeding empathy Jesus demands of his followers?

The Crown of Thorns is also an essential element of the Sacred Heart image. Jesus is laden with the crown after Pontius Pilate declares him convicted and condemns him to crucifixion. No going back now: Jesus accepts the consequences of his mission. The Crown of Thorns shows that Jesus is not doing any of this for praise or adulation even though he is literally God and deserves it more than anyone else in history. If you ask me Jesus is the only person in history who deserves a crown.

The crown also communicates that Jesus’ love is truthful. True love is naturally bonded with integrity. Truth is a prerequisite of love and Jesus’ Sacred Heart is truer than all others. Truth does not change and therefore we might consider the acceptance of this suffering which the crown of thorns represents as proof of the truthfulness of Jesus: He is honest to the point of death therefore we can believe all the other teachings he gave us.

The Crown of Thorns shows us that Jesus is not the Messiah for the proud and self-interested: he did not come to conquer the Roman oppressors for the nation of Israel but to conquer the great oppressor of sin for all humanity. The crown of thorns is no royal crown, it’s a sign of how Jesus uses his divine power: for total self-gift. Practically speaking, Jesus’ Sacred Heart is for the poor, oppressed, marginalized, and mocked because he, Jesus Christ the King of the Universe incarnate among us, is himself among the ranks of the poor and outcast: a crown of such a King could only be made of thorns.

Am I being true to those who depend upon me? Am I being true to the outsider, the ignored people of my time and place in history who are not appealing to see and engage with?

The cross is fixed atop the Sacred Heart in perhaps its most obvious component part. The sacrificial, ultimately generous love of Jesus is everything the Christian is called to if they seriously mean to become a disciple of Jesus Christ. We take up the crosses of our own struggles, even if they seem impossible. We do difficult things because Jesus did the most difficult thing out of the goodness of his Sacred Heart. St. Margaret Mary Alacoque must have felt this intimately when she first gazed upon the Savior’s heart.

Even on the cross Jesus prays to God saying “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Jesus’ sacrificial love is fully committed to welcoming in as many people into his loving mercy, as many people as are willing to welcome it in their own hearts. He was suffering fatal torture and yet prayed for his torturers to be forgiven for that very act they were doing to him. One might easily find themselves pondering all those people Jesus knew in those suffering hours of his passion who he already knew would reject him, there on calvary and far beyond it. Jesus’ Sacred Heart tells us there is nobody Jesus does not want to sacrifice himself for. This is an empathy unparalleled.

What crosses do I need to take up? What crosses do I need to drop?

Finally the fiery visage of the whole Sacred Heart image together might suggest to you something more along the lines of the bleeding: an intense passion. But in this devotion the flames represent the glory of the whole heart. Such a love as emanates from the Sacred Heart of Jesus is truly a glorious love. Moreover, such love redefines what glory means. This glory is not self-aggrandizing, it is powerful by its self-giving.

Love glorious like this warms a cold world hardened by sin. Love glorious like this will light up what sin hopes to drag into the darkness of unaccountability. These flames evoke the flaming tongues of Pentecost in a way that might make the Christian recall their first fervor: that acute, but so fleeting desire to bring the glorious love of Jesus’ Gospel message to all. Love isn’t about feelings but when you feel the drive to love the way your faith calls you to, it’s the most powerful motivation out there. That might be our closest encounter in this life with the glory of God.

Do I take the glory of God seriously or is my faith a private affair I restrict to only where it seems socially acceptable? Do I see the glory of God in all people or just the ones I identify with?

The Sacred Heart’s wisdom for us

You probably noticed those questions I interjected along the way as we went through the symbolism. Just to recap they are again in the order they appeared for your reflection purposes here below:

How might the realism of Jesus’ Sacred Heart, reminding us he was human too, help us to make our convictions real in messy, sometimes brutally ugly lived experiences? Where am I hardening my heart as to avoid the painful, bleeding empathy Jesus demands of his followers? Am I being true to those who depend upon me? Am I being true to the outsider, the ignored people of my time and place in history who are not appealing to see? What crosses do I need to take up? What crosses do I need to drop? Do I take the glory of God seriously or is my faith a private affair I restrict to only where it seems socially acceptable? Do I see the glory of God in all people or just the ones I identify with?

The sad thing to say about this devotion is that in spite of everything it’s often misused. The troubled time it originated in, the devotion’s focus on empathy for those suffering, the insistent merciful love that Jesus communicates through it: all that is often forgotten in its month, June, because devotees like to use it for bigotry.

I cannot tell you how often during June, Pride month for the LGBTQ+ community in most of the world, I will see various litmus tests of one’s Christianity pitting the Sacred Heart of Jesus against the symbols of the LGBTQ+ community. This snide gatekeeping misses the point of the whole devotion. The motivation seems to make those sexual minorities pick between their own advocacy and Jesus.

Jesus was not eager to condemn, quite the opposite actually. The eagerness to condemn with Catholic homophobia is so thinly veiled it’s quite sickening. It drives many in that community off of Catholic social media for the month if not far worse. If you think you need to act this way toward the LGBTQ+ community then you need to take a step back and remember Jesus’ example: even if God’s will is for some kind of repentance for a sexual orientation (which the more you learn about science and the faith the more you realize such a position is unscientific and unchristian) Jesus went and ate with those he identified as sinners. He chose empathy before condemnation and ultimately the outcasts he ate with were the ones he praised for having more faith than the religious authorities. That was all before any of them repented for anything he was commanding them to repent for.

This homophobic deployment of the Sacred Heart also seems to go against the primary witness this devotion is trying to impart. Jesus wanted to show us he loves us so mercifully, so inclusively, and so in spite of anything that may drive us away from him. Why would those claiming to follow him seek to drive anyone away from him?

This behavior is peak wolf in sheep’s clothing.

If you want a contemporary example there is none more on the nose than that one. St. Margaret Mary Alacoque was speaking Jesus’ mercy into a time and place where it was needed. Not only that but she herself struggled to see the way forward at almost every turn in her life. She questioned how she could bear her family’s suffering. She questioned if she was actually called to be a religious sister. She struggled with the answers to questions that ultimately drove right down into who she was as a person.

How many people struggle with their identity? How many people doubt their decisions every step of the way after deciding them? How much does this reflect the human condition more generally: we are always struggling with doubt. And to all that how did Jesus respond?

Jesus made St. Mary Margaret Alacoque a profound conduit of grace. Jesus chose to remind humanity of his profound mercy in the face of the great confusion of the French Saint’s time and place in history as well as mercy in the face of the suffering and confusion of the woman herself. It is very rare for Jesus himself to be the one appearing in a vision in the Catholic world. The Blessed Mother comes to communicate mercy with some regularity it would seem, but Jesus?

Jesus coming to show us his Sacred Heart speaks to our Savior looking on confusion, anxiety itself if you will, and saying: first remember I am love and I am mercy. Seek Jesus first before all judgment on yourself or others. Remember we’re hardly a century removed from the most divisive schism in Christian history when Jesus comes to the lowly nun. St. Margaret Mary Alacoque had already had a vision of Jesus inspiring her to become a Nun and she still doubted! Jesus responds with mercy. Mercy comes before anything resembling judgment.

How many scrupulous souls need to hear that message? How many souls stuck in the rebellion of sin need to hear that message? Yes, God is our judge but not before extending mercy unimaginable to us. The bare minimum response to this is extending mercy to others. Then we must possess the humility enough to not think we have all the answers: particularly the answers that allow us to set aside the Sacred Heart of Jesus and become judges ourselves as if we want to be God and replace that merciful heart with a far more vengeful outlook.

Evils big and little begin when we a person sets aside the goodness of love and humility for a personal vendetta or a set of grievances that one specific group must be punished for. Evil often comes when we decide that loving patience must take a back seat to prideful confrontation as if we are all mere vessels of ideas to do battle for supremacy. We are wounded hearts all of us, in need of mercy and love.

Anyone with a basic Christian education knows God is love. This devotion is the further unfolding of that biblical truth: God is love. God is mercy. God is empathy. God is devotion. God is sacrifice. God is glory. God is all powerful. It’s almost a roadmap to religious devotion all its own. In my experience God’s glory and power is normally something you experience further down the road from God’s mercy and empathy. All that in the neat, beautifully visual devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

As I was about to publish this article it was reported that Pope Francis will be authoring an Apostolic Exhortation dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in September! That was some incredible timing! Apostolic Exhortations are best thought of as letters of encouragement to the whole Church. Of all Papal documents they tend to be the most devotional and the most heartfelt. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is the vocal point of our encouragement and empathy as Jesus shows us how to be ever greater lovers of himself and of all people!

Thanks for reading! My book “How to catch feelings for Jesus” is available online. Admittedly I don’t discuss the Sacred Heart of Jesus itself in the book, I definitely hit on the themes of the devotion in other facets. Share this article! I am in the swing of writing on a monthly basis now and would love to hear your input. Did you really read more than 4500 words to not have something to say about it?

[berryhobii]

Thread Chapter 2: Solace (pjm x reader)

Pairing: Ares!Reincarnated!Park Jimin x Goddess!Black!Female!Reader, Reincarnation AU, Greek Mythology AU

Word Count: 3.6K+

Warnings: feelings of extreme sadness, mentions of de*th and reincarnation, mentions of sickness/plagues, one mention of the de*th penalty, probably some inaccuracies of Greek Mythology, this gets super sweet and mushy🥰

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m here with chapter 2 of Thread! Sorry it took a while to get out but I was really struggling on how to convey emotion in this. I didn’t want it to sound repetitive so I had to keep going back to change up things. I’m also sorry for any inaccuracies about Greek Mythology. It’s just so confusing! So many stories have different depictions and variations that it was hard for me to keep it all concise. Salute to anyone who studies mythology and understands it because I was struggling. I was literally just typing “what is this in Greek mythology” into google and hoping for the best🤣I ended up changing a few things just to fit my storyline a bit better so hopefully it makes enough sense. Thanks so much for reading and as always much love🩵🩵

~

Asphodel Meadows was a lovely place; a paradise where fallen gods could come to rest in luxury for the rest of their days. Not even Olympus could compare to the tranquility and serene landscape of this place.

When Ares arrived at the gateway, he was greeted by Hades who felt the moment the war god had passed away. He swept his nephew up into a hug, deep sorrow pulsing at his heart and causing the walls to groan out in response.

“Oh Ares. What has that brute done? Why has he done this?”

Ares sighed. “You know why.”

Hades led Ares through the gateway, both of them chatting about the events that led Ares here. Eventually, the conversation rounded back to you.

“I could feel y/n’s grief the entire time. Her heart has broken so badly that I thought she had arrived as well.” Hades’ eyes glowed a deep shade of magenta, a color reserved for times he could feel death by heartbreak. “I checked the Field of Mourning but thankfully she wasn’t there.”

Ares could only imagine. His memories felt a little fuzzy but he could still vividly remember your face and how broken you looked as he was receiving judgement. If the God of the Underworld could feel your sorrow so heavily to the point where he thought you died as well, your soul must have truly been shattered.

He missed you so much.

They passed Cerberus on the way, the monstrous dog whining and wagging his tail at the sight of Ares and Hades. Ares couldn’t manage a smile for the guardian but pet his head and continued on with Hades.

On their way to the River Styx, Jimin asked Hades a question.

“Is there a way I can see her?”

Hades pondered the question for a moment. Considering he already knew where Ares would reside, he supposed it was possible for you to come and visit. However, there were rules of the Underworld that not even Hades could override.

“She could. However, there’s some things you should know.”

Ares felt a glimmer a hope spark in his chest. So he could see you again? He could hold you again?

“Like what? Please tell me.”

They boarded the boat on the River Styx, Charon the Ferryman greeting them. His soulless eyes widened just a tad at seeing Ares but he said nothing. Simply pushing the boat away from the docks and staring their journey.

“The Underworld is its own entity. It’s meant for the deceased to reside which means alive gods and humans will never be able to stay here. Myself along with Hermes and a few others are the only Gods who have received the approval to be able to remain here. y/n is a goddess, more specifically a Nature Goddess. She would never be able to stay here for more than an hour at best.”

You were a Goddess of Nature, born from a patch of sunflowers on the millionth rotation of Helios, you were meant to bask in the sunlight and take in the energy from the vibrations of the flora around you. The Underworld was no place for you. It would only steal your glow until you were nothing more than a layer of ash along the beach where Charon docked. Ares didn’t want that for you.

Ares absorbed all of the information, that spark being snuffed out. He wanted to see you but he didn’t want you to be hurt or worse just by trying to stay by his side. He’d truly never forgive himself.

“Oh. I see.” He couldn’t really say much else, just staring out into the dark waters of the River.

Hades felt another pulse go through his own heart. Grief truly was a damaging emotion; born of death and fueled by love, time being the knife that twisted in the wound. And for destined lovers such as you and Ares, that grief was nothing if not the most painful experience. He wished there was something he could do.

Wait a second….

“Charon, my friend. Please take us to the Gates of Kindred. Quickly please.”

Charon said nothing. Just turned the boat in another direction.

Ares raised an eyebrow. “The Gates of Kindred? What’s that?”

“Ares, there’s something I can do to help you but it’s a long process and there’s no guarantee it will work. If it does, however, you’ll be able to be with y/n again.”

Ares was already sold. He could see you again! That’s all that mattered right now.

Charon pulled into the dock, bowing as he waited for the two gods to leave his boat. He casted a single glance back before continuing on.

Before Ares and Hades stood a large gate—one even larger than the one Cerberus guarded. Depicted in the stone were illustrations of evolution from every corner of the mortal world along with different versions of what happened after death.

“Ares, I need you to pay attention to everything I’m about to tell you right now.”

~

97 lives.

Human. Animals. A stillborn. A leech. Women. Men.

For every death, Ares would wake up alive once again. Struggling for survival as the runt of a lion pride, rising through the ranks as a warrior in a developing country and even being pampered as a newborn baby girl to a rich family. He’s taken all of the good and the bad, each life so drastically different from the last. He didn’t retain any of his memories from his past lives as he moved onto the next.

But every night he’d sleep whether as a child sick with the bubonic plague or an assailant waiting the death penalty, he’d dream of his lover. He’d dream of your beautiful face, of your singing voice, of every moment he’s ever spent in your presence. He’d see you as his final breath left his body and he’d go onto his next life with an ache in his chest.

Because everytime he died, it reminded him that he hadn’t found you yet. That you were still out there suffering without him. Were you even still alive? He jumped on Hades’ offer so quickly that he didn’t even consider what could have happened to you. What if you tried to come visit him at the Meadow only to find him gone? Had he really been that selfish?

But this was his only opportunity. He had to take it, no matter the cost.

~

His 97th life was one of the closest he’s ever been to his godly self. There was only one other time where he retained both his physical attributes and name—his 15th life was the other time. He lived in a small village that worshipped the Greek Gods. They’d construct temples to pray in and leave offerings to ask for favors of the Gods. Since he still retained his godly soul, he could easily see whenever the Gods would descend on the humans and grant their wishes. He could see when the nymphs would bless harvests, see when Hera would touch the wombs of once barren mothers, when Hermes would gather letters to carry to the mortal’s deceased loved ones. He even got recognized by Hermes one time. The messenger God just winked and left a small piece of paper with a single phrase on it.

I love you.

Ares knew it was from you. He could feel you. You were still hanging on, waiting for him. He wouldn’t let you down. Not again.

His 97th life was that of a 25 year old college student. Raised by 2 parents in a middle class home. He even had a younger brother. He had taken on many names of every language during his journey. The name his parents had given him for this life was Jimin.

Park Jimin. A Korean native born and raised in Busan.

The childhood of this life was normal; he went to school, got sick and hurt, was loved dearly by his parents, played sports, etc.

There were times in his godhood where he’d wish he’d wish he could have a life like that. An ordinary one. One where he could socialize easily with people, one where people didn’t cower in fear when he passed, one where his hands weren’t covered in the blood of the fallen.

The only problem Ares had encountered in his journey were the memories he retained. His conscious and subconscious were separate entities. It was like him as Ares was locked behind a door deep in his mind, he knew what he had to do and why he was hear but he wasn’t the one in control of his body or his forefront memories.

That meant, the one in control of his body had absolutely no idea they were a reincarnation nor of their purpose in life. It was frustrating to watch but there’s nothing Ares could do but hope for the best. At least when Jimin was in control went to sleep, Ares could fill his mind with visions of you. Remind him of the only person they’d ever love.

And Jimin would always rise from bed with tears running down his face, a longing ache and a gentle warmth settled in his heart. It confused him. Who was the woman in his dreams? And why did he always feel this way after waking up? It plagued him to the point where he couldn’t even romantically be involved with anyone else. Anytime he’d try, he’d get these sharp pains that would render him immobile. He once told his parents about them and they insisted he go to a doctor but the doctor found nothing wrong with them. He was the picture of health.

It was so confusing. He just didn’t understand.

After another failed date, he decided to take a walk before he went home. He was ignoring the phone calls of his friend Hoseok who had set him up on the date. Jimin didn’t really feel like being asked a thousand questions about what happened. He just wanted to wallow in his sadness for a little while.

Maybe he should just accept the fact that he wasn’t meant for a relationship. That had to be what those sharp pains were telling him, right?

Was it because of that woman in his dreams? Whenever he’d sleep after a failed date, the dreams would feel so real and vivid that it was like he was actually there. He remembers reading something that said incredibly vivid dreams like that could be memories or premonitions of the future. But he wasn’t one to believe ridiculous stories like that. Then again, he couldn’t really think of any other reasons though. Perhaps they were premonitions. That was probably the woman he would be with in the future and his body was physically rejecting everyone else.

He wondered when he’d meet you. If he’d ever meet you.

His feet carried him to a pond. He was about to go take a seat on a bench when he noticed another person sitting there. He was about to just resume his walk to go somewhere else but the moment he tried to walk away, those pains came back. He hissed, holding a hand over his chest to try and alleviate the ache. It was like someone had closed a fist around his heart and was squeezing the life out of it.

Then he heard it.

This stranger had begun to sing a song. A song so full of desolation and anguish that it brought tears to his eyes. The lyrics told a story of endearment, a love song for someone you held dear but the sound of the voice turned the lovely melody into one despair and heartache.

Who had broken the heart of this stranger so?

When they finished, they let out a shaky sigh, choking on a sob.

“I miss you so much, my love. What I wouldn’t give to have you by my side again.”

Another pang of pain. Jimin could feel his lungs constricting, brain racing as he tried to place that voice. It sounded so familiar but why?

Something called in the back of his mind,

“It’s you! It’s you! Go!”

You? Who?

Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat, he moved forward.

“That was a beautiful song.”

He saw your shoulders stiffen. Oh no, did he startle you? He guessed it was scary for someone to randomly speak to you while you were alone at a pond in the middle of the night.

Your head slowly turned as if you were afraid to even face him. Maybe he should just walk away….

Jimin wasn’t the type to believe in love at first sight or any of those cheesy stories. Meet cutes? Spilling coffee on someone by accident? Slipping and falling into someone’s arms? All ridiculous.

However, when your eyes met, all of that pessimism seemed stupid. Who said love at first sight didn’t exist? They must have been a bitter person.

You were……he couldn’t even put it into words. Even with tear streaked cheeks and a sadness he couldn’t place glazing across your eyes, nothing could dim the radiance that seemed to emit from you. In a way, he thought you almost looked imaginary. Like someone had molded you out of clouds and sunshine, your beauty not of this world.

Then he realized who you were. It was you—the woman from his dreams. The woman who had seeped every corner of his dreamland, your beauty greeting him everytime his brain would shut down for sleep.

It was you.

Silence passed between you two, not even the quiet splashing of the fish and ducks in the pond breaking the moment.

He was about to speak but was cut off when you full body tackled him to the ground, a loud “oof!” coming from his mouth. He lost his balance, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you safe. But he just met you…..why did he feel the need to protect you?

He grunted as the hard ground knocked the air out of his lungs but he quickly recovered when he felt you sobbing against his neck. Dismissing that you had just taken him down like a linebacker, he allowed you to hug him. For some reason, he didn’t feel uncomfortable or even the tiniest bit awkward that a complete stranger was hugging him. That felt weird to think. You didn’t feel like a stranger despite the circumstances. He knows he’s never seen you before in real life but those dreams made it feel like he’s known you forever. It was like nostalgia and a sense of deja vu combined.

The hug lasted longer than he thought and eventually, the hard ground was starting to grow uncomfortable on his bones.

“Um…..excuse me….?”

You slowly lifted yourself until you were straddling his lap. The sight of your watery eyes and plump pouted lip breaking his heart at the same time it made the muscle flutter. You were so unbelievably beautiful even in sorrow.

Your hand lifted to cup his cheek, the warmth of your palm sending a gentle pulse all across his nervous system. Just who were you?

A watery laugh shook your body. “Oh my love, how I’ve ached to see you again and now you’re here before me. Your absence has left a void in my soul and my grief has poured into its endless maw.” Wow, even your words were beautiful, poetry spilling from your lips and leaving him breathless.

“Oh….um….” He didn’t really know what to say in response to that, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed.

A look of realization crossed your features, pretty eyes widening and the hand of his cheek lifting with a reluctance he wasn’t expecting.

You stood from his lap, stepping over his body and then holding out your hand to help him up.

Clearing his throat, he accepted your hand, your palms melding together perfectly. Your hands continued to hold on even when he had gotten to his feet, your eyes never breaking contact out of fear that this moment might disappear.

“My apologies for tackling you like that. I hope you’re not hurt.”

Honestly, he wouldn’t even care if he had been because seeing you felt like his entire body was invincible. He felt like he could run through a brick wall and not get a scratch on him.

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mind.”

Your smile rivaled the daybreak, serene and heavenly, his heart pounding against his rib cage as if it was trying to break free. You were so utterly resplendent to gaze upon.

“Do I…..do I know you?” He queried with a slight squint to his eyes. “You just look so….familiar.” He didn’t want to outright say he sees you in his dreams. That might be a little weird. Although, knowing that the woman of his dreams actually existed was just as weird.

The look in your eyes changed to one of wistfulness, thoughtful as you contemplated your answer.

But still, you smiled. “You do. And I know you, more than you think.”

“I know this is the first time we’ve ever met but I feel like I know you too but it’s all so confusing.”

“I know it is and I promise I’ll explain everything but not right now. There’s some things I need to find out first.”

He was still confused but for some reason, he trusted you. Something was telling him that you weren’t lying and that you’d never lead him astray.

Your love was truly standing before you and you’d never let him go again.

The two of you just stood by the pond, staring into each other’s eyes and trying to take in as much of the other as you could. No words were spoken and none needed to be, the joining of your hands and gazes speaking a thousand silent words that you both wanted to relay.

If you could freeze this moment in time, you would. And you’d make it so that no one could ever break it.

Eventually, the sound of Jimin’s phone broke your moment, the noise startling him. Painfully, he released your hand to feel around for his phone, finding it in his pocket. Holding it up, he saw Hoseok’s name and silly picture flashing on his screen.

He gave you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Give me one moment.” To which you just smiled and nodded. Ah, you were so beautiful.

Another ring broke his gaze from staring at you, swiping the icon to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Jimin? Where the hell are you? It’s almost 1AM. Sana told me you left the restaurant almost 3 hours ago.” Hoseok chastised.

He made a noise of surprise. 3 hours? Had he really been out that long? The restaurant wasn’t that far from his current location so did that mean he’s been standing here with you for 3 hours? It didn’t even feel that long.

“Sorry, hyung. I took a walk and I guess I lost track of time. I’ll be home soon.” He didn’t know why that hurt to say. Was it because he knew going home meant he had to leave you? Now that he had you in front of him, he didn’t want to leave.

“Well alright. Keep your location on just in case, okay?”

“I will. See you in a minute.” After their goodbyes, Jimin hung up the phone and a silence settled back over you two. However this silence didn’t hold all of the previous emotions of euphoria. No, this one settled over like a cold splash of water, the dreadful realization that you two had to part weighing on your shoulders.

Jimin sighed, looking at you with sad eyes that almost broke your heart. He used to look at you like that everytime he had to leave for war, those sparkling eyes longing and apologetic.

Lifting your hand, you cupped his cheek once again, his face leaning into your soft palm. “It’s okay. You should go. Your friend sounds worried about you.”

“But….” That yearning in his chest ached, his heart calling out for you. He didn’t want to leave you. Not now and not ever.

“It’s okay. I promise we’ll see each other again soon. You should go home and rest.” Your soft voice insisted, thumb running over the apple of his cheek soothingly. He wanted to melt in your embrace.

“Okay.”

After another more drawn out moment, you parted from him. The moon beamed down on your iridescent skin and it made him wonder how you’d look being bathed in sunlight.

“Go and rest. I’ll see you soon.”

Just as you turned away from him, he realized something.

“I’m Jimin.”

And again, you smiled and he truly knew that everything would be alright.

“I’m y/n.”

“y/n.” He repeated.

A name as beautiful as you, one he said over and over again because it sounded so sweet on his tongue. And how you loved to hear it come from his lips, wanting him to say it a million more times because you missed his voice so much.

The splendor image of you in his dreams finally had a name.

And as he lay in bed that night, his dreams didn’t feel confusing or foreign.

They felt real. And he knew they were real because you weren’t just an accumulation of whatever his subconscious had pieced together.

No, you were real.

The pain that normally met him when he rose in the morning didn’t traverse through his heart. Tears fell from his eyes but not from unease or the overwhelming sense of dejection he often felt knowing you were just a dream.

The only feeling he felt was pure and sweet relief.

[seamuswrynn]

Hi Seamus,

I hope the first question doesn't violate you or is too personal, I'm just a follower of you and your art, so I want to know a bit more about the artist himself.

• Do you miss your wife, and if so, what was she like?

• How do you and Kelly even start shootings, is it the idea for the picture that comes first or is it first the scenery and then the idea?

• What camera do you use?

(I myself prefer a Canon eos 450d and a panasonic lumix dc-g9 ii) I hope you have a lovely day/night.

-☆anon

Hello!

Feel free to ask me as many questions as you like; I have no issues speaking of both myself and my work (although, perhaps I may suffer a deplatforming for speaking too freely about my work publicly like this. Only time will tell!). Your curiosity warms me and I continuously seek to connect with like-minded individuals.

Q: Do you miss your wife, and if so, what was she like?

My former wife, Molly, was a brilliant and bright woman; perhaps one of the kindest I have ever known. I dare say that the only enemy she faced in the time she was alive was circumstance. She was quite the romantic and had a distinct way with words; each simile and metaphor which left her mouth was novel and thought-provoking. In a better time for women such as today, or even back when she was alive, I firmly believe she would have made a fine novelist if more people simply believes in her talents.

To answer your question about whether or not I miss her: I think about her frequently, but to say I miss her would do her wrong: I don't believe she would have wanted me to miss her. We both came to understand that we simply were not meant to be, and to act pretend we were would have been dishonest to not only ourselves but to one another. I can only hope she found what she was looking for.

Q: How do you and Kelly even start shootings, is it the idea for the picture that comes first or is it first the scenery and then the idea?

An excellent question. Inspiration is quite the odd thing, and I find that it manifests itself in different fashions for me. What is consistent, however, is that it is always the concept which comes first, and because I most often work in portraits, the subject of the image is the most important thing to work with.

Allow me to elaborate: years ago, I once met a boy and his fascinating entourage. Nathaniel was his name. It was when I laid my eyes upon him that I knew he would make for the most fascinating subject of photography, for in him I could sense the isolation, the undirected anger, the seeking of connection. There was so much to work with, so many facets of his being to slowly peel away at and showcase.

The most important part of photographing a portrait is that your photograph of the subject tells the viewer something about them. This is something I am only able to achieve through getting to know the subject personally.

To recapitulate my answer concisely: what I aim to capture is the sordid beauty of the human state. As such, both the idea and the scene is always found within the person I showcase.

Q: What camera do you use?

Ah, the hardware... Did you know I still do own my first bellows camera? Compared to the devices the modern market has to offer, it is quite the relic, but to this day, it still works! :) I occasionally still make use of it.

I have had to switch cameras a few times due to rapid advancements. Presently, however, I have gravitated towards the Nikon D750. A terrific and reliable camera which also works excellently in lower light. It meets my needs as a photographer and, in my opinion, simply feels correct in my hands.

Thank you for taking the time to ask me questions! I hope I hear from you soon.