#they die and they wont come back and its been repeatedly said that this will happen when you are a sorcerer

[obiyuki-beebs]

CH 116 thoughts / discussion

mkah spoiler / discussion and no cut.

I’m going back to thinking about the 115 post (reblogged directly below this one or in the obiyuki content page on my blog) I did and how that bottle is just like the one Touka Bergatt told his brothers “wont work on him”. So now we know that this bottle of perfume (and is perfume, not poison as I had previously thought) that is basically hypnotic pheromone juice. Touka apparently cannot be influenced by it. Was that what was used to lure in and kill Touka’s father? I think so.

Remember in the early days (ch. 28) when Mitsuhide smelled that smashed potion and went nuts over Zen for a chapter? 

While it may not be the same potion, it does have similar hypnotic properties. This potion is described by Garack as being associated to what we are thinking of at the time, or more particularly, producing a strong reaction to a deeply held loyalty (a type of love). Mitsuhide is worried about Zen, who he already has a strong relationship with. This potion seems to have enhanced feelings that were already there.

That was the same instance that was used as the final test for Shirayuki’s court herbalist apprenticeship, which she passed. I think that counts as a strong memory that may influence this arc as well if she and Ryuu recall the test in their brainstorming and investigation.

We did not get a name for the plant, and it is simply referred to as the blue flower drug. While I’m not supposing Sorata was planting an easter egg so early, I do think she may be using a similar premise of hypnotic (at the very least).

Back to 116....

You can see in this depiction of Yozumi that his eyes are blank. We get confirmation that he was hypnotized, but I think we should remember this look for future encounters as it provides insight to the effect the perfume has. 

After she hits him to get him away, he looks shaken. Shirayuki sees how strongly his emotion is affected by this. Yozumi is tearing up with obvious pain in his eyes. What happened to his lover? He asks repeatedly for Shirayuki to leave, facing away from her, clearly fighting the hypnotic temptation. Look at his face in the next image. Why is he so distraught? What about his lover and the perfume are so upsetting? This might also provide some insight on why he’s so protective of the perfume bottle. Is it all he has left of his lover? Did she die? Missing? Was he betrayed?

“I took it with me in secret.” 

Did he steal the perfume from her?

Yozumi -- who will not name his lover but we can almost definitely infer is Mm. Liera or in some way connected to her -- reacts to some of the perfume that Shirayuki placed on her collar. This means that the perfume is not the same as the potion described in ch 28, so is it the same plant in a different formulation? Or is it a different plant that also has hypnotic effects?

(as a side note, I wonder how effective washing out the perfume is? Washing off of your skin, sure, fool proof that eventually the substance will be gone. But with fabric? It might be much more difficult to clean. Maybe Shirayuki is using the pepper Ryuu gave her to wash her collar? If there is somehow leftover potion on her clothes, will some unsuspecting gentleman get a whiff of trace potion and be swayed to make a move? I would like to see shirayuki in proximity to obi for this hypothetical... this whole paragraph seems silly now that I’m editing but I’m leaving it). 

“When I was beside him, he seemed like he was in pain.”

Emotional pain? Physical pain?

Yozumi seems to have been ‘addicted’ to his lover by means of this perfume, and describes withdrawal symptoms when he was separated from her for more than a few days. 

Withdrawal -- physical withdrawal -- is serious and a sign that the body has become accustomed to a stimulus, that being in contact with the stimulus is the bodies new normal. 

However..... I’m not sure how closely we are supposed to compare that to withdrawal in the real world. I (used to) work in healthcare and still think like a nurse... I can’t help but apply that line of thought when Shirayuki is also a health care professional. Court Herbalist seems to cover sides of modern nursing and modern pharmacy. I think it’s more likely that the perfume is a vehicle for manipulation -- a lure for an assassin to exploit -- rather than so severely addictive that it incapacitates someone. 

That being said, Yozumi is still addicted to the smell of the perfume. Addiction psyche will often have you rationalize and seek out the source of your addiction, even if you know it’s the wrong thing to do. Will he try to seek his lover out? Is she alive? Is she a villain!? All I’m sure of is that she is associated with the Bergatt scheme (re same bottle, etc), and is part of the untrustworthy faction in the North that will try to reclaim Wilant and its territories. 

Can Yozumi be trusted out and about? Lol no. Probably not. Who does he kinda look like? Obi bb..... Spy time? Will the knights ball be a masquerade?! WILL OBI AND SHIRAYUKI GO TOGETHER WEARING MASKS?! ahem I hope so. With close proximity dance & perfume. I hope we get some Obi x Shirayuki confronting the tension between them. Maybe the perfume / knights ball will be the catalyst? 

Then. Yozumi is contacted by someone he has never met and invited to meet, and this woman has the same scent. This woman is connected to the original lover, and whoever supplies the ‘perfume.’ Probably the Bergatts and their loyalists. This encounter with the perfume alerted Yozumi that he should be suspicious of the lover and the scent, which catches us up to the present and why he has come to see court herbalists. 

So this perfume ... basically makes people horny .....there’s going to be a ton of temptation shit going on and I am so here for it. 

this post is already so long ...... my arthritis is so bad rn but I’m so pumped about the chapter I’m popping 800 mg ibuprofen and trucking on thank you so much for reading up to this point

So ... the identity of the lover. We know she is high born, and is the daughter of a Viscount. We can assume she’s from the North. There seems to be a network of women working with and / under Mm. Liera to tempt and manipulate chosen parties (Yozumi, Touka’s Father, etc). 

Shirayuki and Ryuu plan to send their observations to the pharmacists of Lyrias, with “people they can trust.” Eisetsu became a little more suspicious to me in this chapter. His reaction to people we can trust was odd when you reflect on it, especially after he OBVIOUSLY LIES ABOUT KNOWING MM LIERA at the end of the chapter. Obi can tell that Eisetsu is hiding something. 

Bullet points from here on out because handswristselbowsandshoulders are literally on fire haha arthritis !!!!!

Other thoughts:

I wonder what Mitsuhide and Kiki were talking about on their walk in the woods? How curious. Maybe they are discussing the state of the North and theorizing similar to how we are? IS THIS META SORATA (p not)

I love the interaction between Ryuu and Shirayuki when she has finished washing off the perfume and she thanks Ryuu for coming with her and Obi ... happy family ... peers who trust ... coworker you can rely on .. ♡(｡- ω -)

lol Eisetsu “vetoed” but I mean he seemed to get a clue after Yozumi mentioned her being from a Viscount family. 

Another suspicious Eisetsu moment ... Does he know who Yozumi Iriz is? Apparently so. 

I might be totally off base in suspecting Eisetsu. Maybe he’s one of the good guys. It’s too early to just explicitly trust, especially in a part of the country that is known to be hostile to ProWistalFamily. I am pretty back and forth about if I trust him, though. I want to. I think he’s funny and that he seems genuinely good. But idk. My hackles are raised.

It brought me SUCH JOY that Obi came back after the rains, with the flowers blooming.  (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

Wasn’t that little agreement clap between Shirayuki and Eisetsu much like the high five that Obi and Shirayuki do? Maybe Yuki did that to put herself at ease, almost like she too is trying to trust Eisetsu. 

d r a m a ? ? ! !

People are covering for Mm. Liera and her crew. They are associated and probably working closely with the Bergatt loyalists. What will be next?

We will hear more about the upcoming Knight’s Ball

More research conducted on effect of perfume and its properties

Will it be related to the blue plant from ch 28?

Will a spy be sent to Lyrias to intercept research on the perfume? This is more of my Hackles Incorporated TM business mentioned before re Eisetsu and if he can be trusted. 

BACK TO WAITING!

<3 beebs <3

[messrmarauder]

sup’ share your remadora headcanons pls

i have too many, here we go!

‘amused, impressed, smitten’ happened so damn fast because they spent so much time together doing order work and she would come over to try and cheer up sirius a lot

they get on straight away, always laughing and joking and they flirt but it’s a joke, it’s a just a joke.. right?

so he was basically completely in love with her within a month

he doesn’t know it though because they’re just friends, right? and friends think about friends all the time right? like all day? and all night? and friends can’t sleep because friends winked at them at 3pm? and friends feel their heart shatter when someone subtly teases their friend about someone that may or may not be another man? and friends secretly switch shifts around so they’re on the same guard watch and missions together? and friends walk each other home all the time? even though it’s a 40 minute walk each way and its far easier to floo but if she floos he wont get that kiss on the cheek that he thinks about the entire walk home and then regrets it because its creepy isn’t it? because she’s so young? and she doesn’t know that he’ll lay in bed and think about it for hours wondering why he cares so much  but they are just friends

then one day he’s writing her a letter, about something that doesn’t matter and is definitely something that doesn’t require a letter to be sent to her while she’s at work, but he’ll find any excuse at this point. and it just hits him, he thought something to himself about how even thinking of her made his entire day and it sounds far too similar to something james had once said about lily when he was trying to explain how he knew she was the one

he panics. he panics hard. he sits for hours completely still just wondering what the fuck he can do, until he decides to write to dumbledore saying he has to leave London, he can’t face her loving someone else, he thinks he would literally explode. but he calms himself down, there’s a war, harry needs him. so he bins the letter. he knows she would never think of him like that so he feels no guilt being her friend. because theyre just friends.

and the worst part is, to her, they really are just friends. it creeps up on her slowly, rather than being hard and fast like it was for him.

so for the most part, theyre just really close friends, joking and flirting, and he’s hiding the fact he’s completely in love with her and she doesn’t know but sometimes looks at him a bit suspiciously at the things he does or says that are a bit too soft and a bit too caring. but he slowly becomes her best friend

the order can tell straight away, its pathetic, he’s a mess around her despite them being so comfortable around each other. what they don’t see is that he literally pines for her. at 35. listening to all those songs about love knowing he’ll never have it

he’s badly jealous and can get quite nasty and judgemental if she has a date or talking about her exes. he used to really like bill, they get on great and he’s a good laugh, but he doesn’t speak to him for 3 weeks after finding out he and tonks had a drunken night once years ago and repeatedly tells sirius he’s a self-obsessed prick and hints to molly that bill needs a haircut. he used to support the montrose magpies until he found out tonks used to see the current captain, they never win anyway, remus thinks it’s probably because of him

molly even sits tonks down for a strong word about ‘being careful with him and letting him down gently because none of us need a broken heart in this war’ and tonks just laughs but she does start to notice what the rest of the order sees but she thinks maybe he’s just got a little crush and that’s fine because maybe she thinks he’s cute too? maybe

she falls for him way after he has and its not as terrifying, she doesn’t even think about it. it just sort of dawned on her one that that’s what it was, the thing they had going on, it made sense 

she tells her friends about this guy from her ‘duelling team’ to secretly get advice on him 

they end up together about 3 months before sirius dies after 100 ‘almost kisses’ and cuddling in bed as ‘friends’ because ‘the other rooms don’t have heating charms’ and holding hands because ‘she falls a lot padfoot, shut up’

there’s a fight with the death eaters and they think each other have been hit so when its finally over they’re running and screaming for each other until they dramatically run into each other’s arms and kiss and its all very romantic until mad eye shouts ‘HANDS OFF MY AUROR LUPIN’ and they break away and grin at each other

the next few months are bliss and they’re rarely apart, sirius moved from teasing remus about fancying her to glaring at him and giving him ‘the big brother talk’. remus quickly tells him to fuck off but tonks thinks its hilarious.

tonks friend finds out about them because he’s visiting her while she recovers after being really badly injured in the department of mysteries. she doesn’t take it well and starts telling tonks she’s crazy etc and tonks is like fuck off then bigot

but it reminds remus of how people see him and therefore how they will now start to see her. he’d never really thought about it because he never imagined them actually being together because it seemed so unrealistic. now he’s in full meltdown mode about what he could actually give her, which coincidentally, is nothing

they fight about it. they break up. remus decides to go and spy since that’s all he can offer the world. tonks is sent to guard hogsmeade/hogwarts since she’s not fit for detective duties.

he announces in a order meeting that he’s leaving and that’s how she finds out. he says he has nothing to lose when someone mentions the danger. it just makes her angrier, that she’s sitting there loving him, but he says there’s nothing for him. she says she loves him when he leaves. quite angrily. and disapparates before he can react

he shows up on her doorstep less than a month later, face black and blue, filthy, teeth missing, broken bones, after being caught out. he expects her to shudder and be disgusted when she opens the door but she kisses him. she starts to clean him up when he says he had to come back to tell her he loved her, he didn’t want to die without saying it. he says it 400 times that night, he can’t stop.

he leaves the next morning while she’s asleep and doesn’t say goodbye. this is the start of the ‘grief fucking’. something happens, he comes back, kissing her, saying life’s too short, that they need each other, he ‘stays the night’, she thinks they’ll be fine but he leaves in the middle of the night every time, and she breaks all over again. he knows its not fair and promises himself that he won’t do it next time someone dies but he does because he needs her

dumbledore told him to take something with him while he’s spying that will make him feel human and keep him sane. so he takes a picture of her, he’s scared he’ll forget her smile. but they find it, the werewolves, and he’s come back smelling of her one too many times so greyback decides he’s going to teach him a lesson about running away to witches. remus finds out about it and sends word that she needs to be hidden immediately

he goes to see her to explain he needs to be completely cut off from her and she needs to deny all knowledge of him, he needs to fully be isolated from the wizarding world for this mission to work. but she’s seen what this mission has already done to him, he’s a mess, physically, mentally, he talks of himself as if he is one of them, he’s adopted far harsher habits and doesn’t have his usual patient personality. she doesn’t want to hide, she wants to fight them, fight for remus, fight for them, so they start to argue and he’s so terrified of greyback getting her he’ll do anything to get her to forget him. so when she screams “but it doesn’t matter, if I love you and you love me-“ he turns around and screams “I DON’T LOVE YOU”  and he says it while looking right in her eyes and he sees the light leave her eyes and she looks down. he didn’t mean it, he was just desperate for her to understand and he’s trying to take it back, trying to explain but she shouts at him to get out. he goes back to the pack to try and blend in again, hoping she’ll stay hidden

there’s an emotional wizarding condition about shock that makes your eyes, ears, nose bleed and cough up blood etc, it’s pretty nasty. she gets it and gets it bad because she was so sure about their love but now she’s utterly convinced he was speaking the truth, he’s a bad liar and who would ever lie about that? mad-eye finds her bleeding out in her flat soon after remus leaves, she’d started choking on her own blood and she couldn’t see, she signalled him, he takes her to st mungo’s. he’s been alerted by dumbledore about the situation so he knows the werewolves can’t know her whereabouts so he gets a professional wizarding copycat, whose hired to walk around hogsmeade under polyjuice as a decoy while she recovers. she’s in hospital feeling completely useless and pathetic, what kind of auror doesn’t know someone’s not in love with you? she sits for hours thinking about how disappointed mad-eye must be, how dumb she is, how every touch, every kiss, every i love you, it was all a lie. she analyses every moment they had together, convincing herself they were all fake and trying to understand what his motive was, if he was just lonely?

the pack catches the fake tonks but remus doesn’t know about mad-eyes plan so he wakes up to the pack making a riot and goes over to check it out only to see tonks screaming and being hurt and groped and attacked. he is forced to watch greyback rip out her throat while they hold him back, he’s screaming and begging, then they drop her and move on to him. he’s battered but not enough to kill him. once they leave him he’s able to grab her and disparate to the burrow. arthur is in the garden and suddenly remus is just there with her, both covered in her blood, her throat ripped out, on the grass screaming.

the weasleys don’t know about the plan either and try to get him away from her, but he wont stop screaming and holding her and saying sorry, begging her, telling her he always loved her, that he’s a liar. he cant stop thinking about the last words he said to her, ‘I DON’T LOVE YOU I DON’T LOVE YOU I DON’T LOVE YOU’ and that she believed that. she died believing he didn’t love her and knew he and his kind were the reason she was dead. he cant take it and suddenly his wand is at his throat and he says the words as bill dives for his wand but blood splatters everywhere and he falls backwards and molly is screaming. he’s managed to cut himself but not his throat, thanks to bill. he spends 2 days in percys old bedroom on suicide watch begging bill to empathise and give him his wand back, ‘what if it had been fleur? if you had killed her, bill’ until they switch it to charlie who remus cant even look at considering the long feud he’s had with him for being on-and-off with tonks. he’d once told tonks that charlie was a fucking idiot, what kind of fucking idiot would ditch her for dragons? probably the same kind that left her for werewolves

after they both find out the truth, dumbledore breaks it to him, tells him about mad-eyes plan. mad-eye is trying to explain to tonks that remus had been caught with a picture of her, that the werewolves knew he wasn’t loyal because of her, so they killed her, or so they thought. she doesn’t want to see him, it doesn’t make a difference, he doesn’t love her anyway does he? he just feels guilty. but she needs to know why he had the picture and mad-eye says if she doesn’t go to see him he’ll probably break into her house, seeing the state of him. so she agrees to meet him at the burrow. he’s so relieved he’s openly sobbing on his knees, holding onto her and she’s thinking this is awkward and fully to do with guilt and nothing to do with love. he tries to explain how he had to say it to get her to stay away, that he was beyond desperate and she doesn’t believe him. ‘you can’t look into the eyes of someone you love and say that’ and he doesn’t really have an answer, just mumbles something about life or death.

after molly tells her all the details and how distraught he had been, she rethinks and goes to see him again. they talk it out properly, not screaming for once, they’re both too tired in this war and he’s too grateful to see her with her throat intact to be angry. she tells him about being in hospital but downplays it a lot, he’s still beating himself up about it until she points out she would have been caught by the werewolves if she wasn’t. they only see each other at order meetings until christmas.

he didn’t know about her patronus until harry mentioned it. he goes to see her, she is alone, but she had been working a double shift. he asks to see it and she refuses, says it’s not really any of his business unless he wants to be with her, but as he explains more about it, she thinks he’s realised they can’t be apart if this is true, so she shows him but it makes no difference because it was the usual ‘stay the night but leave again as soon as she fell asleep’ situation. she turns hopeless, if her patronus isn’t enough to show him how willing she is to sacrifice things to be with him, nothing ever will be.

after the hospital wing scene they go to grimmauld place to destroy any evidence before snape lets the death eaters in. he tries to avoid her but she catches him just to say that he’s right and they don’t have time to fight each other now that Dumbledore is gone, that they need to focus on the war, they’ve too much to do. he just nods but he doesn’t feel right. is that really it? shouldn’t he feel happy that she’ll be spared his life? but she’s still not happy he thinks. he sits up all night in the house they fell in love in and thinks maybe mcgonagall was right.

she goes home to sleep before the ministry spend all day interrogating her about dumbledores death tomorrow, but he wakes her up in the middle of the night, he asks to come in, she says there’s no more ‘grief fucks’ that she cant handle being used like that anymore. he says it’s not like that, obviously she’s not going to believe him but it’s different. he says he can’t go to the burrow, that he doesn’t want to intrude after what just happened. tonks lets him stay but only on the couch, and he thinks maybe he has lost her for good. he’s fucked her about too much and for too long. he wonders how he can show her he won’t leave this time.

the next few days are him trying to convince her this isn’t grief, its real and he is back for good, and her saying he just wants what he can’t have now and he’ll get over it in a few days. they go about missions together because she is on suspension for failing to protect the school

they’re on a weekend mission together away in scotland and they’ve kind of gotten cosy together again, almost like they’re back together but he sees her doubting him constantly, like she thinks it’s too good to be true and he’ll leave again so she doesn’t want to get too close. so it hits him that he has to prove that this is permanent so he abruptly says ‘marry me’, it’s not a question. she just laughs asking if he’s hit his head but he’s gotten very serious and says he’ll prove this is serious by marrying her, she thinks he’s fucking insane and says absolutely not but they get back together and she says she trusts him. but he keeps mentioning getting married to prove he’s here to stay after so many times of walking away but she keeps refusing him, saying they don’t need to, that it doesn’t matter. eventually he gets really emotional about how it’s really important to him to feel secure together, that they need a solid confirmation of this thing, and she agrees and they get married two days later.

it’s not a secret for long, her friend turns sides and rats them out to the death eaters,

umbridge sacks her for ‘beastiality’ in front of the entire auror department and she swears she’ll never work for the ministry again

the pregnancy is a mess. he leaves while she’s screaming at him saying if he leaves, that’s really the end of them, no going back, their marriage will be void. he leaves anyway. she waits all night for him, when he doesn’t return that night she waits until 3pm the next day before packing some stuff and going back to her parents, knowing that there was no going back this time.

he comes back to her parents, where they stayed after her parents were attacked, and andromeda screams and refuses to let him see her and says the flat has been sold and she’ll be out by monday so he better pack his shit and fuck off quickly. he has to plan the right moment to catch her in the flat by herself. she’s calm, terrifyingly calm for a pregnant women whose husband walked out on her, just packing boxes, telling him all his stuff is in the small amount of boxes in the livingroom, he can have that spare cauldron if he wants. he tries to talk to her about it but she keeps dismissing him, trying to ignore him, she shuts him up with ‘look, i know you were scared, i know you always come back, i know that but i wont have a child sitting at the window wondering if daddy will come back this time. that’s not fair, they didn’t ask for this, i did.’ and he knows he has no argument.

she says there’s post for him on the mantle and he finds a letter addressed to him with her wedding ring in it. he can’t stop himself, he’s begging her to put it back on, on his knees, half hysterical, trying to put it back on her. she says he broke his vows, theyre not together, why should she wear it but his begging gets to her and she puts it back on to shut him up but she doesn’t take it off again

he spends the next month completely doing up his father’s old rundown cottage, complete with baby room and every method of protection he can do. he doesn’t know how to show it to her since he’s seen andromeda burning his letters and only ted answers the door, so he waits in her parents back garden for hours until he catches her on her own and begs her to come see what he’s been doing. she hesitates but he looks quite manic and like he hasn’t slept in weeks so she agrees just to make sure he’s not lost the plot. he shows her around while she’s silent, he’s talking far too quickly and looking far too frantic, as if he expects her to run out the door any second. he explains everything at lightning speed, how it is for her and the baby, its made for them, how he doesn’t have to be here, he’s been staying in the spare room while he set it up but he’ll be gone the second they want it, how he’ll send all the money he gets, he’s got bill to take out some gold for him - it’s in the kitchen, how he’ll get any medicine or pregnancy things she needs so she doesn’t have to leave hiding, he’ll help her move in if she needs, if it is a werewolf he’ll do everything, if she wants. he looks so desperate so she says she’ll think about it but she breaks down when she’s leaving, shouting that this is what she wanted for them, not just her and the baby. that it should be them living here, not just her and the baby. she moves in at the end of the month.

it’s a really horrible pregnancy due to stress and inability to see a healer whenever they need. he comes home one day and she’s screaming, he finds her covered in blood. they risk getting a healer. the healer says there’s a large chance that the baby hasn’t survived. she’s hysterical, crying and screaming and hitting remus, saying he wished for this, he prayed the baby would disappear. she knows it’s not true, that he loves this baby already but she’s so distraught. its andromeda that defends him, tells her shes being ridiculous, that he’s done nothing but try and provide for this baby, put the baby first always. remus is grateful but still blames himself, for not being grateful for this child.

when teddys born they nearly write edward john lupin down but remus thinks its not right. every lupin baby carries john as a middle name, they always have but he wants to honour james, wants to thank harry for setting him straight, giving him the good bollocking that lily would have. so he adopts the potter tradition, of using the fathers name for the middle name. he thinks it will sound self-conceded but tonks thinks its fitting that he should have something in common with his godfather, especially if he might not get the chance to meet him. so it is edward remus lupin

I have a lot of pregnancy/teddy headcanons but this already ridiculously long so let’s skip that.

they live and harry moves in with them to give the weasleys space after fred. especially since hermione now stays in rons room, there’s not much space for harry. it’s great but there are postwar stresses and pumps. she finds out a lot of her friends are dead, theyre both unemployed with a small baby, werewolf legislation is still awful and then there’s charlie weasley who sends a letter essentially saying if she wanted to restart her life in romania after the war, charlie would help tonks and teddy move. remus opens it and the house is tense for a while.

I also have a lot of headcanons about charlie/tonks and remus and charlie having beef throughout ootp/hbp/postwar but we will skip just now.

they have a second son when teddy is around two. they don’t really have the money but they are both thrilled and were in a ‘not trying but if it happens, it happens’ mindset because neither liked being an only child and teddy is so wonderful and definitely not a werewolf. therefore alastor john lupin is born. teddy and ally don’t get on that well, both are hufflepuff and ally is a mini athletic remus, quidditch obsessed compared to music obsessed teddy. harry is godfather to both, and spoils them beyond belief.

remus eventually ends up at the ministry for a werewolf investigation unit that works with the aurors to stop packs, offering support/help to recently bitten and werewolf integration into wizarding society. he eventually gives it up to home school teddy and look after ally then goes back to teach at hogwarts a few years before the boys arrive.

tonks becomes head of the auror training division after the war and trains harry and other new aurors because she doesn’t want to be out in the field again as a mum but is too good a dueller to be stuck on desk work.

she visits remus in hogwarts one day because shes in the castle anyway and some boy shouts ‘sir?? is that your wife?? shes FIT’ and remus goes ‘yes youre very right mr ross, lets discuss it in Thursday detention’. ‘its not his fault im hot remus, leave him be’. teddy demands his mother never return to hogwarts since his friends wont stop teasing him about how fit his mum is, ally doesn’t mind because his friends are 11 and don’t know how hot she is. remus secretly loves it.

i am so sorry for how long this is but im avoiding uni work and you gave me an excuse

[quackmyback]

Heads or Tails : chapter one

Will Byers x Fem!OC

Hi friends, I don't think anyone actually read chapter zero, besides myself ofc, so I decided to post Chapter One today like I said I would :)

MADMAX AND THAT ASS

Mason pulled herself from a restless sleep, blinking away the gunk layered across her pupils and trying to swat away the sun streaming through the window. Slowly, she sat up and messed with the knots in her hair and she watched Max peacefully snore with her blanket half on her and half on the floor.

"Max," Mason called to her sister in hopes of waking her from her dreams. "Max. Dude!" Mason threw a stuffed animal -- a small, kind of deflated elephant her dad had got her years ago -- and nailed Max right in the nose.

"What the hell, Mase?"

"Get up, we have a one-way ticket to hell in about fifteen minutes." Mason threw her blankets off her legs and headed over to her and Max's shared wardrobe -- picking out a simple outfit that she hoped wouldnt get her taunted on her first day at school.

The twins juxtaposed each other:  while Max wore her hair down, Mason tied it up with braids and and excessive use of hair clips, while Max liked baggy jeans and larger hoodies -- Mason preferred oddly patterned skirts with white shirts and denim jackets. Both girls only owned one pair of shoes: Max's were a red pair of converse they had found super cheap at a thrift store while Mason's were a weird off brand of keds that were fully white.

Mason walked out of the room, back to the bathroom, and shouted back to her sister, "and you better hurry your ass up, because I am not biking to school!"

"Whatever, dork!" Max slammed the door to their shared bedroom.

• ○ •

W

hen Billy parked the car, Max and Mason exited. Mason gazed around to see everyone staring at her new step-brothers ass and, while delighted it wasn't at her, her lip curled in disgust. She sped walked to catch up to her sister, who was slowly skating towards the Middle School across the parking lot.

"This is gonna be a total nightmare," Max scoffed glaring at everyone around them who dared to take a glance towards the Mayfield twins.

"Maybe" -- Mason shrugged -- "maybe not."

The girls continued their slow, torturous walk to school -- stopping at the front desk so that Mason could ask for their schedules. Assuming that their classes would be the same, Mason felt misery when she realized she would have to part from Max for art.

Max sighed, "Well, at least you dont have Drama with Mrs. Cockwit."

The girls looked at each other before their faces broke into smiles, Mason examined their schedules side by side once again. "Science," she said. "We should probably hurry and go find-"

"-That wont be a problem, Miss Mayfield." The twins turned suddenly to find a burly man behind them, the principal they assumed. Now, they're own personal tour guide. "I will be leading you to your first class, please the bell will ring shortly, so follow me."

They did, reluctantly, follow him to a wooden door where they could faintly hear the teacher teaching his wisdom to a class full of kid more likely than not to drop out of three years. They walked in, quickly as to avoid as much attention as possible. Though when Mason had looked up when passing the teachers desk, she realized that wasn't going to be easy.

"Ah, these must be our new students!" Mason's attention snapped to the teacher, she had realized on her schedule his name was Mr.Clarke.

"Indeed it is," the principal who had herded the two into the classroom confirmed,"All yours."

Mason rushed to follow Max to the back, yet they were stopped about as fast as Max could rolled her eyes.

"All right, hold up." Mr. Clark held put his hand to stop the two and smiled. "You dont get away that easy."

Mason barely muttered under her breath, not even enough for it to really reach her own ears. "One could hope."

Mr. Clark continued his introduction, as if the two girls weren't capable of saying their own names. Mason was more than capable of having a panic attack discretely, surely she could say her name to a classroom full of people. Wait a minute.

"Come on up, dont be shy. Dustin, drum roll." A kid in the front, who wore a hat and a dinosaur hoodie, closed his notebook and drummed his fingers against it. "Class," Mr. Clark began," please welcome, all the way from sunny California, the latest passengers to join us on our curiosity voyage, Mason and Maxine."

Mason swallowed and shuffled awkwardly, "Uh, I'm actually Mason and that's-"

"Max. Not Maxine," Max interrupted her sister, eager to sit down and hide away from the vulturous stares of the class.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry. Um, all aboard, Max and Mason."

The twins hurried past him, finding empty seats in the near back of the class -- Mason scoring one near the window. She pulled her notebook from her backpack and pulled one of her many colorful pens from the side pockets -- the only happiness she ever was given was from those pens.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the blank page in front of her and barely hearing Mr. Clarke lecturing the class. Not surprisingly, she also barely notices Max's elbow slowly shoving Mason's notebook off the desk.

"Dude" -- Mason barely caught the book before it fell and furrowed her brows -- "what the hell?" She dropped her voice to a whisper in Hope's of not getting in trouble on her first day at school for Max's mischief.

"Those guys upfront keep staring at us," Max whispered through her hair. Mason's eyes flickered up and, lo and behold, the four boys were, indeed, staring at them. Well...

"They arent staring at us," Mason corrected, "they're staring at you. "

"Why?"

"How the hell should I know?" Max turned to face forward, playing with her hands after her sister said that. Mason sighed," Don't worry, I have an idea."

Max nodded, trusting her sister,"Okay."

With that, Mason grabbed the top of her blue pen with her teeth and popped it off. She wrote the first thing that came to mind in big letters.

• ○ •

Mason walked into the art room, it was lined with floor to ceiling windows and every wall was a different color. The room was fairly empty, Mason assumed it was because art was pushed onto students as much as sports or academics.

She sighed and took a seat by the window. Some one pulled the stool beside her out and sat down. Mason looked over to find one of the boys who were staring at her sister. He smiled, a small smile that didn't really reach his eyes. He looked like he had a lot on his mind, way too much to deal with for a small boy his age.

"Hi, uh, I'm Will."

Mason returned his smile, her hands were shaking; she buried them in the pockets of her jacket.

"I don't think I need to introduce myself." Mason looked down at the table, he had his sketchbook out and she didn't -- she anxious that she was supposed to already have it out. Did anyone else have it out? Her eyes danced around the room, avoiding Will's beautiful brown ones the whole time.

He noticed her behaviour, and it barely seemed unusual until he realized her leg was bouncing quickly and her bottom lip was pulled tight between her teeth. When she released it from its death grip, he could see the scabs forming across the sensitive skin.

"You'd be right," he laughed, hoping to calm her down,"Mason, yeah? That's a pretty cool name."

"It's a boy's name." Mason ducked down below the table to retrieve her sketchbook from her back pack.

"It can't be a boy's name." Mason looked at him for the first time since he sat down next to her. He smiled goofily, she saw that it reached his eyes this time. Her heart leaped. "How can it be a boy's name if it's your name?"

Mason's lips parted and her leg stopped bouncing for a second, but her hands had exited her pockets and were bending the bottom corner of her sketchbook. "Well, I think my parents wanted a boy."

"Well, I think my mom wanted a dog." He spun a lock of his hair around his finger, "She got the shedding and, I offered to play fetch with her, but she thought that was weird."

Will felt pride swell in his chest, a smile broke out across his face after a sweet snippet of laughter fell from her lips.

Mason let her laughter die into a small smile and she glanced at him, "Hey, I'll, uh, I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

Will glanced down at his sketch book anxiously, "O-Okay."

They grinned, exchanging books and looking through the other's masterpieces. Each other, carefully calculating their looks at each other to see the other's reaction towards their pride and joy.

• ○ •

"He seemed nice," Mason defended her new friend, despite Max's efforts to deter her away from him.

"No way, he's one of the creeps who stared at us." Max slammed her hand down onto the button and violently yanked the joystick.

"They were staring at you, and maybe they arent creeps maybe they just are curious about the new kids and are too scared to approach."

Max quickly diverted her attention from Dig Dug to Mason and back to Dig Dug before she died. "If that were true, they would've been looking at you too." Mason sighed loudly, laying her head against the side of the machine. "Now, dude, you're really killing my Dig Dug vibe."

"Whatever," Mason shover herself off the machine and turned to her sister, "I'm gonna get a soda, you want anything?"

"Grape and a snickers."

"Got it."

Mason walked away, her hands in her pockets jingling she change, she rubbed her fingers over the rough circles repeatedly to assure herself she had enough to pay for everything.

"What can I get for you," The guy behind the register asked. Mason's eyes dashed across the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.

"Uh, yeah, can I get a strawberry and a grapefruit fanta plus two snickers." She looked down at her pocket to pull out the change. "Oh, uh, please.m," Mason quickly added.

"No problem."

While she waited, Mason leaned against the counter and faced towards where Max was standing at the Dig Dug machine working her magic. Then, her eyes fell on the two boys from their science class."

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

As if they sensed her looking at them, the glanced behind them and their eyes widened -- busted.

"Position has been comprised! Fall out!" The curly haired boy shouted, Mason watched as they ran out the door. She sighed, shaking her head and turned towards the counter where the guy had set down her order.

"Thank you." She handed him the money and retreated back to Max. She sighed as she handed max her snickers and held onto the soda for when she finished the game she was playing.

"What's got your panties in a knot?" Max barely glanced at her, taking a giant bite of her snickers.

"Fuckin' creeps." Mason cracked the top of her strawberry soda and took a gulp.

[shadedrose01]

Just Breathe

Ship: none, platonic (paternal) relationship between Harley Keener and Tony Stark

Summary: Harley has a panic attack, Tony helps

Tags: none (not posted on ao3)

Author note: this was a story that I originally wrote for febufluff day 7, "hugs" before realizing that it neither had hugs, nor was it very fluffy, like at all. I didnt want to just scrap it, so I figured I'd post it here. I am going to write another story for day 7 of febufluff, but it'll just come out a bit later 🤷‍♀️🤣

TRIGGER WARNING: This story is all about Harley having a panic attack due to his bullies finding out he is gay, and threatening to tell his school about it (aka being homophobic assholes). I describe the panic attack in detail, so if that's not your speed, DO NOT READ. Be safe, please, I love you all ❤

--

Click, click, click-

Harley clicks his pen unconsciously, his leg bunching up and down repeatedly, staring down at his paper with squinted eyes, hoping, begging his mind to focus on the homework.

Click, click, click-

Its math homework, Harley is good at math, he has always been good at math, so why cant he just focus? Why cant he just finish the problem?

Click, click, click-

The question muddles in front of him again, and Harley begs himself not to think about it, tries his hardest to focus, focus, focus! but his cries go unheard, the memory swarming into the forefront of his thoughts once more.

The note on his desk, telling him to be behind the school after class. The walk there, where Harley's curiosity had beat out his fear (such a stupid decision, he should have just left, should have just gone home-). The anticipation, leaning against the old, dirty brick, just waiting, waiting, watching and waiting. The group that had shown up, a bunch of bullies from his school, had surrounded him, pushed him up against that very same brick and held him there like pray, grins smug and eyes glistening, eyes knowing.

They knew his secret, they said, his secret that he was trying to hide for days, for months, for forever, trying to bury as deep into himself as he possibly could. Had said that they had caught him a few days, at the movies, with a kid from out of town, a boy from out of town. Had said that they saw them kiss, had said that they knew, knew who he really was, what he really was, had called him vulgar words, names and curses and swears, had beat him into the ground then and there, and walked away laughing.

They told him that they were telling the entire school. They were going to tell the school about his- his feelings, his sexuality, and- and everybody would hate him, hate his guts for something he couldn't control, can't control, had tried to control for so long, for so so long, and then- then the school was going to tell his mother, and his mother would hate him too, abandon him just like his father had, and Abbie would hate him, leave him too. He'd be all alone, all alone and nobody would care about him, nobody would miss him, nobody would want him and- and-

And he can't breathe.

Oh god, he can't breathe.

Harley tries to take a deep breath in, but all he can manage is a shallow gasp, his lungs feeling as if two vice grips are squeezing them on the highest setting, not allowing them to expand and contract, not allowing air to flow freely, not allowing him to breathe. He keeps trying, his faint gasps getting louder and louder, harder and harder to do, his heart beat drumming in his ears, fast and quick, and he's shaking, shaking like a leaf, and he cant stop, cant breath, his chest aches, his heart aches and oh god, he's dying, he's dying, he's going to die out here, in his garage, all by himself, all alone, his mother working and his sister with her friends, all alone, all alone-

He needs to call someone. He needs to- to-

Harley scrambles for his phone, placed beside the sheets of paper that are slowly blurring together as tears fill his eyes, and he tries multiple times to open it, failing, failing, failing every time, -nobody's going to know, he's dying, he can't- until finally, finally it opens, and he clicks on his contacts list, scrolls to the M's, and presses call, holding it up to his ear.

His other hand as made its way to his chest, having a death grip on his shirt as his chest continues to get tighter and tighter, the air feeling thicker and thicker, the room blurring and spinning and he wont make it, he wont make it until-

"Harley? Harley, I need you to breathe, kid." Its faint, Tony's staticky voice barely heard over the blood rushing in his ears, but it's there, and Harley clings to it like a lifeline (it is, it is a lifeline, his only chance at surviving-).

"I- I dont- I cant-" Harley wheezes, curling into himself, resting his head in between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it'll help his rapidly increasing dizziness, hoping it'll stop the room from spinning so damn much, hoping it'll stop his world from collapsing on top of him like it is right now, god, please, have mercy-

Tony breaks through the white noise again, his tone softer than Harleys ever heard it, but strong, urgent. "You can, kid. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you can. You gotta try for me, okay?"

Harley just shakes his head, even though he knows Tony cant see it, his body trembling again as adrenaline rushes through his veins. "I'm dying, I'm- I- oh god I'm dying-"

"You aren't dying, Harls, I promise you, you aren't. You're having a panic attack." Harley doesnt respond to that, just sobbing in between his wheezing because he's dying, he knows he is, he can feel it, he's- "Kid, you're going to pass out if you don't breathe, so I need you to listen to me okay? I want you to breathe in for 4 seconds, hold it for 7 and then breath out for 8, you think you can do that for me?"

Harley doesnt, he doesnt think he can do it, but hes gotta- he's gotta try something, anything, he can't just go down without a fight, without giving it a shot. "O-O-O-Okay."

"Okay, follow me, okay? Inhale, one, two three, four-" He hears Tony take a deep breath, and tries to as well, shuttering with a sob as his lungs refuse to expand, refuse to listen, stopping his inhale after two, "Its okay, kiddo, you're doing good, now hold it for me, seven seconds, you got this." Harley tries again, holding his breath even as his body spasms, screaming at him to keep breathing, keep breathing, there isn't enough air, need more air, need- "and release for eight seconds," The air forces it's way out of Harleys lung in one loud push, and he immediately gasps again as soon as his lungs are empty. He expects Tony to be mad at him (he'll be mad at him, hate him just like his mom will, the school will-) , but the older man just keeps reassuring him gently, calmly, soothing Harleys worries. "There you go, bud, see? You got this, you can do this. Let's do that a few more times now, okay?"

They repeat the motion over and over again, and to Harleys surprise, after a while, the inhales start to get easier, his lungs start to open up again, relaxing and stretching again, and his heart starts to slow back to it's normal rate. He's still shaking, but its mostly aftershocks now, the last bits of the adrenaline rush draining out of his body. But now that he's calming down and he doesnt feel like he's dying, he can feel the shame and the horror start to creep it's way in, embarassment flushing his cheeks. "I-Im sorry." He whispers out shakily, running his free hand through his hand before holding it tightly, yanking at it slightly.

"Don't apologize for this, Harley, please." The man sounds tired, in more of a physically/mentally exhausted kind of way over an 'I'm annoyed and hate you' kind of way. Harley still feels a tinge of guilt though. "Are you feeling better now?"

He swallows, his throat dry and sore from heaving in and out breaths. "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks."

Theres a pause, a moment of awkward, long and uncomfortable silence that Harley isnt sure how to break, isn't sure he really wants know, until the question he was anxiously dreading breaks it anyways. "Kid..." Tony sighs quietly, "I know we dont normally... do this, the whole having emotional talks about our problems thing, but-" he pauses again, thinking his words through. "...do you want to talk about it?"

Harley grits his teeth, before deflecting. "Talk about what?"

"Harley." The man's tone turns stern, but still soft, still gentle, like Harley's a fragile ceramic plate placed at the end of a shelve, one from blow of wind away from falling and shattering. Then, randomly, he speaks up again, his voice sounding more defeated, resigned, "Look, bud, I cant force you to say anything, but I know from experience that talking about it can help sometimes."

Harley sighs, knowing he isn't going to get out of this, no matter how much he wants to (or, how much he thinks he wants to, even if theres some small part in the back of his brain calling out to him, longing for him to tell Tony everything, no matter the inevitable consequences-). He just shrugs, scuff his foot against the cement ground of his garage, mumbling out. "I don't know what to say, where to start..."

"That's okay. Just say something. Starting is always the hardest part."

Harley snorts, trying to lighten the mood one last time. "Since when did you become a therapist?"

"Since I started going to one." Tony deadpans, a tiny light of amusement ringing in his tone before it disappears again, back to serious. "You can tell me anything, Harley. No judgement, okay, maybe a little bit of judgement depending, but no everlasting grudges, I promise."

Harley chuckles lightly, his back of his eyes burning suddenly, randomly, a flash of warmth flowing through him. Because even with all of his self deprecating thoughts, even with all his anxiety, the one thing Harley knows about Tony Stark is that he always keeps his promises, no matter what it costs to do so.

And so, Harley tells him. Tells him his truth, shakily, nervously, painstakingly slow and fearful, only to be told instantly that it's okay, that he is okay, that it doesn't change anything. Tells him about the boys at his school, about their attack, about their plans with a few split tears and a sob or two. Tells him about how afraid he really is, about how he doesnt know how anyone will react, if his friends will leave him or not, if his family will still love him after it all. And Tony reassures him the whole time, backs him up through it all, telling him it'll all be okay, that even if the school finds out and it becomes a big deal, that it'll blow over in a few weeks, and if it doesnt, that high school is just the first part and a small portion of a longer, bigger life. Telling him that if his friends leave, that they arent truly his friends, and that he knows that his mom, his sister will love him no matter what. "Theres only a few things I know about Macy Keener, but I do know for a fact that she loves her son to death, and couldnt even imagine her life without him in it." (That caused a few more tears to be shed).

And after it's all said and done, the call ended and "The Mechanic" is shining back at him in big white letters, Harley starts back to work on his math assignment with a grin on his face, feeling lighter, better than he has in a long time.

[mysmedrabbles]

Broken - [Yoongi x BPD!Reader]

requested: by @edgythiccboi (request is pictured above)

a/n: long overdue and with about the most rough drafts ive ever written for something, its finally here! i hope you enjoy and it takes your mind off of some of the hurt from your past and present. know that the whole of the bpd/ptsd community knows what you're going through and supports you (even though we're all just a bunch of bamboozled and 3dgy kids)

warnings: quite realistic description of a bpd episode, tiny self harm mention, some splitting, self deprecation (it ends in fluff i promise)

-ghost mod alex

-hollowed lungs took struggling breaths in the condensed room, steam and water droplets covering every surface like a disease, a disease from which you could not get away from. you sat on the edge of the bathtub, wheezing into seemingly nothing, chest heaving as you strained against invisible bonds, tying you to the tub, restraining you in your own mind, a prisoner of war against your past.

-a familiar pounding in your head clouded your thoughts, and you could feel yourself spiraling through various personas, each personality you'd tailored for everyone in your life; it hurt too much, it felt like you were being pulled in a hundred different directions.

-who were you today? the bubbly friendly girl in the back of the class? the dark, almost suspiciously angry person, hiding in the shadows? maybe just a quick witted friend, always there with a funny rebuttal, making everyone laugh but yourself. what was the point of "being yourself," and "living life," when you didn't even know who that person was? that person you could have grown into died that day, the day,,, the day it happened. 

-you'd been lucky enough to have survived, to live to today, but what was the point of it all really? 

-you stared at your shaking hands, and for a second you see blood, draining you of your life as all you can do is sit there and watch; but you blink and its gone, only a thin white line serving as a memory. 

-you'd promised him you'd never hurt yourself again, and a part of you knew that you should call to him, for he was only in the other room, no doubt writing another extraordinary song. he was always so smart, so sure of himself and an absolute genius. it wasn't an exaggeration when people complimented him on his music, it came naturally to him, he had a passion and he pursued it. 

-unlike you.

-who were you but a stain on his life? he'd be better off without you anyway. 

-a wave of rage came over you, and all you could see was red, red red red. How dare he not notice how in pain you were, not be here to comfort you and take care? Did he not care? was it all just a joke to him? did he even...did he even love you?

-you felt yourself spiraling further, physically bending over to the point of pain, the muscles in your lower back stretched from the lack of support. tears had started to pool in your open hands, and staring at them blankly you were only vaguely aware of choked sobs reaching out the doorway, small whimpers mixed in with cries as you tried to feel anything beside the pain.

-a small knock distracts you, cautious and questioning, and you know immediately that its yoongi. yoongi your sweet angel, the one who always made you laugh when you were feeling down, played card games with you when you needed a distraction, sung to you when you couldn't sleep, kissed your tears away no matter how many times they fell. you didn't say anything, rather let him open the door himself to see you sitting there hunched over, looking up at him with puffy eyes. 

-he assessed the damage first, scanning the bathroom for anything sharp, any blood or a wad of suspiciously thick toilet paper shoved forcibly into the trash can. upon seeing nothing of the sort his eyes soften, seeing you in your fragile state. he never thought anything less of you, in fact he always thought you were so brave to be alive, to still be fighting after all you'd been through. you were a pair of survivors, people who bonded not only over trivial things like favourite band and your shared humor, but the experiences the two of you had gone through added an extra layer of understanding to the relationship.

-he sits next to you quietly, letting you take a breath before speaking, his voice softer than usual, and yet still with edges of his usual roughness, but he's kind. He looks at you, and you can tell it's taking him all of his energy to not to reach to your face, wiping away your tears and holding you in a tight embrace. he knew the drill, and his main priority was your comfort. 

- "can I hug you?" 

-it's a small thing, but it's enough to bring you back to tears as you nod shyly, too afraid to speak. you close your eyes and you can feel his arms wrap around you, holding you securely close to his chest, steady rhythm of his heart beating against your own chest like a metronome. steady, present, there. he's whispering tiny comforts to you, affirmations of his love and your worth, that everything was going to be okay. you lean into his touch, closing your eyes hesitantly as your head falls on his shoulder, hiding in the crook of his neck. 

-he smells fresh, faint smell of laundry detergent intermingled with his pine shampoo, and something else; he smells like home, the smooth cotton of his plain black shirt on his thin frame under your fingers just adding to the notion of comfort, and your own sobs cant help but die down, calming under his soothing presence. you start registering his voice, his hand tracing soothing circles on your upper back.

- "it's okay," you hear him say, "you're going to be okay. it's over now baby, nothing can hurt you.. i love you so much... i wont let anything bad happen to you.. it's okay... you're going to be okay..."

-his voice drills a hole in your chest, striking a cord and unable to get it out as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls away, making sure you see where his hands are clearly before cupping your cheeks, stroking away any stray tears. he examines your face soundlessly, giving you a chance to speak if you so choose. you study him right back; he looks tired, like he hadn't slept in a while, soft hair a very definitely natural shade of silver. He saw you revisiting the dark circles under his eyes with your own, and as if reading your thoughts he replies, "work has been a bit long, nothing else princess."

-you open your mouth to make a counterclaim, but he cuts you off gently, "I promise," he says, and yet you struggle to believe him.

-a small pause settles over the two of you, and you could see his sincerity in his words, mirrored by the gaze that falls upon you. sweet kind yoongi with his easily irritable self and cutting humor, his stoic side and his adorable smile which you swear could light rooms.

-did you really deserve him? how could someone as amazing as him be in love with someone like you? Even as you began to speak, you could already feel the guilt washing over you, shame at the notion of manipulation as you asked, 

-“Why do you love me?”

-yoongi smiles, just the tiniest bit as he pulls you closer to him, kissing your forehead, taking your hand in his before responding, “why do i love you? ah well thats a complicated question with too many answers,” he looks at you, hoping to notice a change in your expression, but seeing no results he presses on, “I love you because you’re you, because you get up every morning and face the world even though its told you repeatedly to stand down,” he brushes a stray hair behind your ear as he goes on, carefully as to not set you off in some way, “I love you because even though you’re characterized by a mental illness thats seen as horrible and dark you constantly show up with your brightest smile and kindness in hand, and theres never been a day where being by your side hasn’t been a gift. I love you because of the way you’re attentive, how kind you are to complete strangers, your smile when you think no ones looking. the way you doodle in the corners of my lyrics sheet and fall asleep next to me at the studio when im up late working.”

-he shifts, fully facing you, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him directly in the eyes, piercing into your soul, trying to bring back any piece of hope you have to the surface, “I love you because theres that insatiable force pulling us together,” he playfully tugs on your arm, earning a teary chuckle from you as you look away, feeling the tears start up again. damn him and his talent with words.

-he’s just saying that because you asked him that

-your brain, a genius

-guilt courses through you at his words, a stab to the heart marred by the sweet tone of lies. this was manipulation. great. you’d manipulated your way to validation was an excellent girlfriend you were, truly inspiring. You feel the headache start up again, but yoongi catches you, placing his hands firmly where your shoulders connect to your neck, seriousness overcoming him as he cuts off your thoughts, sword at the ready, “I’m a logical person y/n, you know this, you say this to me all the time, and I wouldn’t have said any of this if it weren't true.”

-he searches your expression for anything, a twitch or a change, and is surprised to have you curl up in his arms, burying your face in his chest as you breathe for seemingly the first time since the conversation started, letting a full sigh as you try to clear your head, willing to pay anything to just believe his words. yoongi pulls away, hand running softly through your hair as he admires you. he slowly leans in for a small kiss, not passionate, leading to nothing, but just a kiss to let you know he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere and for now, just knowing he’s here is enough

-after what seems like forever of him holding you, the rim of the tub digging into your thighs, he presses a gentle kiss on your temple, intertwining your fingers with his before he stands up, extending his free arm to help you up. “come on princess, lets go to sleep,” is all he says.

[joyfulpoet]

The Lonely Wind God

Part 1

Kind of Beefleaf. I got stuck while writing the next chapter for my fic Handsome Brothers’ Daycare and started writing this. Mostly just thinking about how SQX and MY might have met and became friends in cannon. I feel it must have been mostly been SQX chasing after MY.

Shi Qing Xuan held a black and red drinking bowl in one hand while using the other to lightly rest his chin on. A smile kept tugging at the corners of his lips as his watched his companion scarf down food like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. At the moment he didn’t know much about the man other then he was mostly a recluse with a bad temper. But rather partial to food, especially if someone else was paying for it.

The restaurant that they sat in was one of Shi Qing Xuan’s favorites. It was a little hole in the wall place in the outskirts of the capital. The dishes, while maybe not the flashiest, were well prepared full of flavor. The floors were maybe a little grimy, but the staff was kind and hard working. And the wine! The wine here was the sweetest.

Before he’d ascend, Shi Qing Xuan had came here a lot with his Elder Brother. Though after Shi Wu Du’s own ascension he didn’t really have much time to play with his little brother in the human world. And while he’d made good friends in heaven, he didn’t think any of them would appreciate the place. But the Earth Master seemed like the type to not care if there was a scape or two on the floor, he’d be adding to it given enough time. And seeing how he was shoveling the food into his mouth with barely a second to breathe, Shi Qing Xuan was sure he liked the food just fine as well.

“Ming-Xiong!” Shi Qing Xuan called playfully after taking a sip of the wine in the bowl. “It’s fine if I call you Ming-Xiong right? You’re older then me after all? You seem older anyway.”

The other man paused with his chopsticks bringing steaming noodles to his mouth. He thought for a moment then shrug in a do-what-you-want sort of way, before noisily slurping the noodles. Finishing that he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand saying, “Doesn’t matter.”

It was a bit of an odd response, but Shi Qing Xuan was fine with odd. If it meant he now had someone to drag around with him whenever he wanted to play around in the human world. The heavens were nice and all, but it could get kind of boring after awhile. Most of the other officials, if not doing paper work or answering prayers, were usually lazing about gossiping. Which could also be fun in its own way, but when you’ve lived so long things tended to get repetitive. What might have been a juicy story 50 years ago gets rather dry and dusty after it repeatedly happening so many times.

The human world however was always exciting, new things were always happening. And Shi Qing Xuan liked excitement just as much as he liked his wine. Not more then wine though. Wine would always be his first love and everyone could die mad about it. But excitement of any kind was definitely his second love and lucky for him they went well together. It wasn’t hard to find a balcony with a good view at an establishment where their wine flowed like water with the right amount of incentive. And as the the very popular Wind Master he had a lot of incentives to throw around.

“Ming-Xiong, do you like it here? Is the food not some of the best you’ve had? You should try the wine as well! You wont find wine as sweet as the wine they sell here!” Shi Qing Xuan chittered away pouring a bowl for Ming Yi who continued to slurp and gulp his way through the literal feast laid out before them.

It had probably been a good hundred years into his own godhood before the Wind Master saw the other one for the first time. He’d definitely had heard of the man, but until then Ming Yi had spent very little time in the heavens, preferring the human realm. The first time Shi Qing Xuan approach the black clad man wearing a disgruntled expression he’d asked him why he’d preferred one place over the other. The man had just stared at the carefree master before him with narrowed dark eyes before replying “Fewer idiots.” Something in the way he said it made it sound more like “Go die”.

Shi Qing Xuan knew he was being lumped in with the “idiots”. He was use to it, though usually it was said with more affection. Even his elder brother would on occasion call him one. It should have made him angry that someone he barely knew called him an idiot, but for some reason this just made him even more interested in the man. After all, everyone in Heaven wanted to be on his good side for one reason or another. It made finding a genuine friend a little harder, and here was someone who wasn’t interested in the slightest! Perfect.

This current little outing was months in the making. Repeatedly Shi Qing Xuan invited the Earth Master to accompany him, and every time he was rebuffed. It was quite disheartening after awhile to be spurned so, such a feeling was so alien. Even as a mortal he’d never experienced such utter rejection! But the Wind Master wasn’t to be deterred, he’d make friends the grumpy recluse even if it was the last person he ever friended! Nothing was too lowly or shameful for him! His face was far too thick to care what others might think.

Which is precisely what he thought as he dove to capture the black clad ankle of the Earth Master after running into him while walk about the Emperor’s garden. Enjoying the sunshine, the Wind Master had seen in the distance a black figure that he’d come to know well over the past months. Excited, he’s rushed over to the man as he stood on a bridge over looking a well crafted pond with brightly colored koi swimming about. He seemed to be watching them so intently he didn’t notice the overly eager Wind Master until he was practically on top of him. Just as Shi Qing Xuan had open his mouth to greet him, Ming Yi had swiftly turned to run away. Which is how the man then found himself with a new accessory in the shape of the young Wind Master about his ankle.

With a disgruntled huff the Earth Master at first attempted to shake the man off, then tried to pry off his arms. But the Wind Master was nothing short of being sticky and not about to be budged. With a darken face, Ming Yi gave up his tugging and began to walk, dragging the man behind him. When the white clad man continued to cling to him, he veered off the well paved path onto the grass. A sadden whine escaped the man about his ankle but his arms did not loosen, even as the white sleeves of his very fine silk outer robes turned green. When this also fail to dislodge his cling-on Ming Yi found a rock path.

Shi Qing Xuan had let out a pained whimper at the sight of it, but somehow managed to tighten his grip about Ming Yi’s ankle even more. They inched closer. One step of a black boot, a long drag with the other. The Wind Master was soon faced with the very real possibility of having his stomach cut open by a million little white rocks. But he would NOT LET GO!

Two more steps.

One more step.

Sh Qing Xuan was having second thoughts about whether or not this possible friendship was worth it.

The boots stopped walking. A heavy defeated sigh came from the man above him.

“Fine. But you’re paying.”

The smile the Wind Master had been trying hard to suppress finally won out and stretched whole heartedly across his handsome face. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the development. Ming-Xiong had even tried the wine, made a disinterested non-committal sound after trying it, but he still held his drinking bowl out for a refill. It might have been the buzz from the liquor, but he was feeling the warmest and most content he’d felt in a long time since his ascension. Shi Qing Xuan was sure he’d found someone he could share things with.

After wine and excitement, Shi Qing Xuan’s third love was company. Though this one definitely competed with his second love of excitement. Not all the company he kept enjoyed the same kind of excitement he enjoyed so it could be a bit difficult set things up so everyone was happy. Sometimes Shi Qing Xuan would rather have company then excitement, being alone was something the Wind Master could not bare for long periods of time. Growing up he had always had his Elder Brother around to keep him company along with whatever new friend he’d made. But after coming to the Heavens as his own Official, he found himself left alone more and more often. His brother was always busy being the Water Master or off somewhere with Ling Wen and Pei Ming. And it was hard to tell if the others Officials likes him for him or because he was rich and generous. Which was fine, company was company, but sometimes it made him even lonelier.

[prissypickle]

Caius’s Mate Chapter Four

I paced thinking of a plan. Fake an injury? No, they will never believe me. Escape? No, how in the hell can I escape a locked room. Break the window and climb out? Maybe, I went over to the window looking out. Okay never mind. It's a  good 40 foot drop. I'll die. What to do, what to do. An idea popped in my head. Trash the room and make as much noise as possible. They can't ignore you then.

I headed over to the bed stand grabbing the lamp throwing it as hard as I could against the wall screaming as I did so. Wow that felt good. I kicked over the bed stand kicking it as hard as I could trashing it to peices. I went over to the dresser. "FUCK YOU!" I screamed taking out each dresser, which was empty. Throwing it against the wall breaking it. Very soon there was a whole in the wall.

All the anger in me coming out. Hell, I was enjoying completely trashing this room that I was trapped in. I went to the bathroom punching the mirror as hard as I could. Shards going everywhere. Blood surfaced on my hands. I winced, peices of glass stuck in my hand. I took it out and wrapped it in toilet paper.

I went over to the glass door showers and kicking it repeatedly, soon it shattered. I headed to grab a large shard of glass and headed to the room and decided to tear up the bed.

Screaming curse words as I did. Moment later I was grabbed from behind and spun around to look at Alec.

He looked pissed. I looked at his mouth as he started to speak. I couldn't tell what he was yelling.

Okay maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

He paused for a minute speaking once again waiting for me to respond.

He spoke once more, smacking me hard across the face. Tears immediately surfaced just out of reaction. "What the fuck?!" I gasped. He started yelling again.

"I can't hear you," I looked down. Tears falling, the burning sensation from his hand still on my cheek.

He made me look at him. "What in the hell were you thinking?!" He said slow enough for me to catch.

Looking down avoiding eye contact. He screams something at me. I felt his breath in my face.

Tears fell hard. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't want to stay," I tried to pull away.

He pulled grabbed my arm hard, basically dragging me out of the room. He dragged me to the room where all my friends were killed. I looked around tense knowing I was in big trouble.

Him and the man were having a conversation which I couldn't translate. I just looked at them fearing for my life. Maybe now they will kill me too.

The man looked at me. "Give her 50 lashes," he said glaring seeming frustrated.

"Woah woah. Wait what?!" I gasped backing up.

Alec came towards me grabbing my arm. "Wait what are you going to do to me," I said fear in my eyes.

He pulled me out if the room looking at me. "Sorry," he said taking me down to this weird. Dungeon type place. This can't be real. This can't be happening.

He immediately pushed me to the ground as soon as we were there. On the wall in front of me there were all sorts of whips. He goes over and grabbed one that has spikes on it.  

He looked at me and spoke slowly and clearly. "Look. I tried for less. Try to sit still," he said sighing.

I looked at him fear in my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You were bad so you must be punished," he said.

I looked down. Oh gosh I'm their slave.

He moved behind me. "What are you doing?" I moved away. It was no use I couldn't hear him.

All of a sudden I felt a hard strike on my back then a sharp pain. I let out a loud yelp. "What are you doing?!" I yelled squirming to move away.

He pulled be back to the place to where I was supposed to be. Another hard strike was felt. "STOP IT!" I cried out arching my back trying to move away from the pain.

I felt a third strike. I moved away standing. My back now stinging.

Alec pushed me back down pinning my arms above my head, cuffing them to the wall quicker than I could snap my fingers.

"Stop it let me go!" I gasped. Fear in my voice, completely panicking, not able to breathe.

He shook his head and striked me again. I pulled my hands hard. Tears forming. "Please stop I'm sorry. I wont do it again!" I cried out.  "Fuck," I moved towards the wall feeling another strike.

"Alec please... I wont do it again," I winced.

"I don't have a choice," he said sympathy in his eyes. 

"You don't have to do this," I whispered fear in my eyes.

"I do," he said. "Try to relax..." he said.

"Have you been whipped before?!" I squealed. "It's not relaxing!"

He sighs. "I have to do 46 more," he said.

"I cant do it... I cant..." my body trembling.

"Im sorry," he said.

I looked away tears flowing down as I felt another strike.

There was a long pause before I felt the sharp stinging pain.

The strikes became quicker. 30 seconds between each strike. The worst part of it was knowing what was coming.

He tapped my shoulder. I looked at him pure fear in my eyes. I had never been so scared in my entire life. "Im half way through," he said.

I was too scared to even nod. I just looked back at the wall. Part of my back was stinging in pain while the most of it was completely numb.

My toes curled as he continued to strike me.

One. I counted in my head trying to focus on something other than the pain. 24 more.

I winced as I felt another strike. 23.

I felt my whole body tremble. My hands begin to go numb.  22.

Deep breaths it's almost over. 21.

Only 21 left. You're stronger than you think. 20.

I can't feel my arms. 19.

Or my back. 18.

At least the pain is going away. 17.

But how damaged is my skin. 16.

Its must be bad if you cant feel anything. 15.

How are you going to take care of yourself. These will probably get infected. 14.

I need to find a way to leave. If I stay I'm going to die here. 13.

I hurt from kneeling. 12.

You're almost there. I know you're shaking. But you can do it. 11.

My whole body was trembling I was having a hard time staying upright.

Keep still. Keep still. Keep still. 10.

He will make it worse if you struggle. 9.

I want my mom. 8.

I never should've came to Italy. 7.

Are they getting harder. 6.

Yes. Yes they are. 5.

I swear he is going to kill me. 4.

These people are bad people. 3.

They should all die in a sink hole. 2.

You did it. 1.

I let out a gasp feeling the last one.

He put down the whip and unchained me. Immediately I fell to the floor curled onto my side. Tears falling. My arm hurt too bad to move. Hell, I can barely feel my arms. I looked at him shaking.

He came towards me, standing over me. I looked up at him, fear in my eyes. "Are you okay?" He asks.

I shook my head no. "I wanna go home,"

He sighs bending down to pick me up. "Let me help you," he said.

I flinched back scared of his touch. "No..." I whimpered.

He sighs. "It's the least I can do... I don't want you down here," he said

I closed my eyes. "Fine," my teeth chattered.

The next thing I know he picked me up carrying me.

I let out a loud cry as he picked me up. He carried me to a room. He brought me to the bathroom drawing a bath. He filled it up with warm water helping me undress, placing me in the tub.

I gasped wanting out not liking it. It burns so bad. I looked at the water as it began to run red. "Im bleeding?!" I gasped.

"Calm down I'm helping," he said taking my hand.

"It hurts," I whined.

"I know. I'll give you something in a moment," he said and poured water over my back. The water turning a bright red.

Fear surged through me. I've never had an injury like this before in my entire life.

After he cleaned my wounds he pat dried me with a towel helping me to the bed. He had me lay on my stomach. I winced and groaned as he touched my back, putting antibiotic cream on it.

Tears fell onto the pillow. This is the worse pain of my entire life.

He headed out and got me a pill "this should help," he said handing me it and a glass of water.

I gladly took it not really caring if it was pain medication or a poison pill.

I looked at him tears falling.

"Go to sleep," he said.

I closed my eyes trying to go to sleep. Soon the medication kicked in and pain started to go away and I slowly fell asleep.

[turnadotspot]

So, my heart is in a bad way these days, or, I think so anyway. Had suspected covid back in march 2020 (no tests available then, but everything matched), and it completely fucked me up. I think it weakened my heart and I’ve had scares over it repeatedly since, more so as time has gone on. So far medical professionals haven’t picked anything up on the few occasions I got seen after panic made me call an ambulance, but either loads of time passed after I made the call so I think it settled, or they didn’t check my heart, just my pulse. The only thing they found was a slight irregularity in my... EEG? I can’t remember what they called it, but they said it was not in the range of anything to worry about at the time. But these problems come and go, and every time I get checked out, its hasn’t been during a bad phase. Same as when I got checked for those damn mini seizures that I think are tiredness and tension (both) related. Can’t help but think the spirits are responsible for that, that they don’t want me to be helped, just for everyone to think I’m mad.  The loneliness isn’t helping. That made my heart hurt every damn day even before things became what feels like a medical issue (complete with tightness, trouble breathing, chest pains and left arm tingles that may or may not be from a trapped nerve or may be something else, though they do seem worse when I have chest pain. Loki says they are responsible for that, to make e think I’m in danger of heart failure, but I can’t trust them, I’ve learned that lesion long ago). My brother think I’m just crazy and laughs at me, thinks my various pains are all in my head, even when I’m struggling to breathe he just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to gaming, while insisting I still have to do housework, of course. My extended family is too busy with their own lives so even though I’ve told them I’m struggling at family meet ups, I don’t hear from them. And the docs don’t seem to take me seriously either, probably because of tags like “anxiety”, “depression”, and “non-biological psychosis” aka voice hearing, on my medical records. Even my friends rarely reach out to me, bar one, but that’s only text, and... I feel like all this text is driving me insane. I barely speak to anyone in person, and it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and it hurts. I fucking hate text chat now, but that’s all everyone seems to want. And, I worry that that hurt of loneliness is only making my heart worse. Broken heart syndrome is real, it’s proven, I wonder if I have a slow version of that, on top of covid injury. ... I just... don’t feel like anyone cares anymore. Damn spirits have stolen my life from me. I’m trapped in this house, my mental health just gets worse, my physical health just gets worse, I have no future and at this point I think all their psychology “lessons” are just a way for them to entertain themselves and all they really have lined up for me is an early death, which lines up with my declining heart health, and that they keep blocking me from getting any medical help. They’ve stolen my life from me and left me with nothing but heart break, in every sense of the term. No partner, no children, no close friends, no close family, just distant people who now know me so poorly I sometimes wonder what to call them anymore. Even my damn brother doesn’t really see me, he just looks down on me in everything. No future, no job, no purpose, no life... I hate this life, but I don’t want to die, because I’m scared it will be worse, that I wont even have distractions to divert me from them and their abuse. It just never ends.  I can’t fucking breathe. I’ve been struggling to breathe for a year and a half, and some days it still feels like it’s going to kill me. Feels like this was what they planned all along, and all their promises of light at the end of the tunnel was just more cruelty so I don’t break completely so soon as to be boring. I wish, I had hope. That I think is what’s emotionally hearting my heart the most; I have no hope. No hope of... anything.

[bibleteachingbyolga]

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:21)

When Paul wrote these words to the members of a small church in Rome, he wasn’t merely imparting some sage advice. He wasn’t merely trying to inspire them with a platitudinal ideal to shoot for. These words came stained with the blood and tears of spiritual trench warfare. Paul was telling the precious saints in this church how to stay alive in an evil world. For if churches don’t overcome evil with good, they won’t survive.

I’m writing this out of some personal grief. In recent years, I have watched churches I love dearly fracture, and even break apart. And in the cases I have in mind, the breaks weren’t over doctrinal disagreements or gross immorality, but over offenses given and taken. Longtime friends, having lost trust in one another, could no longer fellowship together. Like most breakups, they’re complicated. Certain parties bear more responsibility than others. But the heartbreaking result is that once-vibrant worshiping communities have ruptured, sometimes leaving a remnant struggling to rebuild from the rubble.

And what I find particularly grievous is that Jesus said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). What do these breakups say about Jesus’s love? What do they say about his disciples?

Such relational breakdowns didn’t have to happen. But they illustrate a sobering reality: if we do not love one another enough to overcome evil with good, we will be overcome by evil. Paul’s instructions in Romans 12 on how to love one another with aggressive grace are critical to our churches’ survival. If we don’t understand that, we won’t survive as witnesses of the love of the Lord Jesus that overcame the world.

Most Potent Force in the World

As Christians, we know that love is the king of the affections and the queen of the virtues. It’s in a league of its own. For while every other righteous affection and virtue is an attribute of God, only one is twice said by the apostle of love to be at the core of the divine essence: “God is love” (1 John 4:8, 16).

We know from Scripture of love’s incomparable power. It encompasses all of the Law and the Prophets: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind . . . [and] you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37–40). And it was at the very heart of the most potent act in human history: Jesus’s death on the cross. Love moved the Father to give his only Son (John 3:16), and love moved the Son to lay down his life for his friends for the glory of his Father (John 15:13; 17:4).

And we know this supreme act of love did more than redeem lost people. It was also the most powerful act of spiritual warfare ever committed. For through it, Jesus overcame the hate-filled world (John 16:33) and set in motion the eventual and total destruction of the devil and his evil kingdom (1 John 3:8).

Therefore, nothing is more Godlike or gives God more glory and delight than love. Nothing is more morally beautiful, profoundly meaningful, and joy-producing in the human experience than love. And nothing is more offensive, violent, or destructive to the forces of darkness than love.

We know this.

But as Jesus said, “If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them” (John 13:17). Knowing isn’t enough. For the whole blessing of love is in the doing of love. Indeed, if what we do doesn’t proceed from love, we are nothing and gain nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1–3). But that’s not all: we can also wreak great damage in our churches.

Love with Aggressive Grace

Paul had seen this damage firsthand. He had grieved over it. And so his instructions to the church in Rome were full of urgency — urgency the Holy Spirit wants us to feel over our churches as we read them today. The Spirit, through Paul, wants us to love one another with aggressive grace.

I call it “aggressive grace” for two reasons. First, we are not called to love one another as we deserve to be loved, but as Jesus loved us — with shocking, remarkably gracious love (John 15:12). Second, it’s aggressive because it is a remarkably pursuing, persevering, selfishness-slaying, overcoming love. Such aggressively gracious love is otherworldly, a taste of heaven on earth.

What Love Looks Like

Listen to some of the ways Paul describes the love we are called to feel for and give to one another.

“Let love be genuine. . . . Love one another with brotherly affection” (Romans 12:9–10). It doesn’t take long before we realize what it requires for us to keep loving like this. We all sinfully stumble in many ways (James 3:2). Which means we repeatedly offend one another. It takes persevering graciousness to keep love genuinely affectionate.

“Outdo one another in showing honor” (Romans 12:10). Note the aggressive, even competitive, word Paul chose: “outdo.” Imagine a church’s culture so marked by the healthy humility of considering others more significant than ourselves and overtly making the case for it, that the sin-diseases of selfish ambition and conceit we all carry are held in check (Philippians 2:3). A foretaste of heaven. But this kind of humility is cultivated only by intentional, even stubborn, habitual practice.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). With the influence of our indwelling sin, we all know how challenging it is to actually obey this command. But if we’ve been on the receiving end of such love, we know how blessed it is.

“Never be wise in your own sight” (Romans 12:16). The more seriously we take this, the more carefully we will listen and respond to others. This alone would prevent many relational conflicts. But it is hard to die to the self-blinding assumption that we’re wise and don’t really need counsel.

“Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all” (Romans 12:17). Implicit here is that we each will sinfully wound each other. And we all know it requires aggressive self-control not to respond back in sin. “Give thought” captures the intentionality this love requires.

“If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Romans 12:18). How far is “so far”? This can be difficult to answer. But if we are to bear with and forgive one another as Jesus has with us (Colossians 3:13), “so far” is likely much farther than we naturally wish to go.

And, of course, Paul says so much more in Romans 12. But this sampling helps us see to some extent the aggressively gracious, costly Calvary love to which we are called as Christians. It is the love of Jesus, the love the world is meant to recognize in his disciples, the love that overcomes evil with good.

Overcome Evil with Good

Paul ends the chapter with the exhortation I opened with: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21). It is the high calling of each church. And it is an admittedly hard calling, for “the way is hard that leads to life” (Matthew 7:14). It requires each of us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow in the footsteps of our Lord, who so loved us (Matthew 16:24; John 15:12).

The stakes are high. For if we will not overcome evil with good, we will be overcome by evil. If we will not love one another as Jesus loved us, we will not last together. The demonic forces know this and aim their fiery darts strategically. Which is why the demise of too many churches is due to internal conflict rather than external persecution. Which is why once strong churches can break apart.

This doesn’t have to happen. But our churches’ survival is staked on whether or not we, their members, love one another with the aggressive grace that comes from Jesus. We know these things. But knowing isn’t enough. Blessed are we if we do them.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Not like this.”

Hope you guys all have a great day :) 

Hijan was sitting on a patch of red moss staring out at the red sky over the distant volcanoes. A dull ache rose up in her carapace, though it was one she could mostly ignore. It was going to rain later, that much she could tell from the red of that distant sky.

Upon her lap lay a long spear chipped and worn with age, though its point was still as sharp as ever.

She heard the footsteps while they were still a ways away, below the bluff. SHe didn’t bother to look up knowing who it was…. The sentinel, her only son: Hasan.

He walked over to where she was standing, but did not sit with her.

She looked up mildly confused.

His face was somber.

“Hasan, is something wrong.”

He bowed his head to her, “Mother, there has been some… news.”

She stood, not liking the sound of this. Her joints were a little stiff, but she managed just fine, “What news?”

Hasan lowered his head, “Word was brought by messenger early this morning. The Drev counselor for the GA is calling the Drev war clans to arms if they would be willing to fight.”

He tapped her spear against the stone, “And how does this concern us?”  her son had always been a believer in the old ways, and was generally not interested in the outside politics of non-drev nations.

He lowered his head, “Mother… I… we received word. He’s dead.”

Hijan crossed her arms, a little habit she had picked up from her other son (adopted son) a human, “Who?”

“Tanan…. Uh…. Tsata, he’s dead.”

A quiet crept over them. Tsata: the name of that very same adopted human, the small helpless, squishy human she had helped turn into a warrior. 

“What?”

“They were attacked by an enemy called the Burg.His ship was destroyed, and he was lost.”

Hijan blinked, staring at her son. Something about this didn’t seem real. Perhaps it was the way that her son talked about the outsider, in a way of respect she had never seen. How he lowered his head at the mention of his name, “Was his death honorable?” She finally wondered.

The pause grew even longer and she saw the answer in his face before he spoke, “The burg tricked them. They distracted the rest and set up a machine to do the work for them….  Their tactics were dishonorable.”

Hijan felt her hands clench, but she did not go to move, instead stepping forward slightly. She rested a hand on the shoulder of her son, “Thank you for bringing this to me.” She said softly, “I know my love for him has always confused you.”

Hasan shook his head, “No mother, I understand .”

They didn’t say more than that, and hijan moved quickly back to her hut.

She stood in the open doorway for a long moment before moving inside and picking u her things, pulling on the old armor crafted for her by her father once long ago. She picked up her battle partner’s old spear and rested it against her shoulder before turning from the door and stepping outside.

The horizon was warm to the east, and she began to walk.

SHe was alone for only a few minutes before the clatter of armor followed after her.

She turned , surprised to find,rows of drev warriors following her from the village interior. Even the children came confused their heads turned towards the village.

She paused as Hasan walked over the stone looking regal in his armor, and powerful with the cape billowing at his back.

“What are you doing Hasan?”

“Taking up the call to arms.”

She shook her head, “But our village.” “Can be retaken.”

“Why?”

“They have killed a member of our clan, thus declaring war on us. We will answer the call.”

Hijan was quiet for a moment, then lowered her head in deference to her son thankful, and proud.

He walked past her towards the front fo the column and barked the orders to head out.

***

Eris floated absently from one room to the other. Voices echoed to her from all sides, and she based quietly in the glow of freedom. Floating, she let her hands trail out to the sides ribbons billowing at her back, dark hair rolling around her waist. She was letting it grow out, she thought it made her look nice.

“Give it back!”

“No!” “Its not fair!”

She cracked an eye and floated into the next room.

Glados and Hal were facing off against each other crouched low to the ground, now as big as large dogs, the two of them could cause some mess when they got into a fight.

“WHat is going on here.” She asked 

Hal turned, “She stole it and she wont give it back!”

She frowned turning to look at Glados hearing the choleric voice inside her head as she denounced her brother for being a tattle tail.

“Glados, give it back, you have toys of your own.”

“But i WANT that one.”

“We don’t always get what we want gladoes, and we certainly don't take from other people.” Glados sighed but gave it back apologizing only grudgingly when she was ordered to by Eris. Hal stuck out his tongue and scuttled away.

Eris shook her head, Glados was getting better, but her first year of life certainly had not helped her. Living aboard a ship, being raised by a dog, and a struggling human who wasn’t ready for parenthood could do that to a person. Of course, not to say that their father had been bad, he was just…. Young and inexperienced, too much love and not enough discipline for the young spiderlings.

She smiled at the thought. He would probably half freak out if he knew she considered him a father. She had never had one, and he was as good a man as any to pick. She didn’t ind that he couldn’t fulfil that roll, it was more about the knowledge that at least someone cared than anything else.

She sensed rather than saw it coming.

She could hear the internal voice, feel it’s nervous sadness. She owned and made her way over to the facility door pulling it open well before their guests had arrived. She peered outside and as soon as the door was out from between her and the visitors, she froze in shock and horror.

Two people stood before her, a man with spiked green hair, and a tesraki, friends of their father’s, from the LFIL

“No…. no no, it can’t be true.”

The human reached out a hand and gently put a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry.”

“No… no…. He can’t be I… he just can’t.”

Hearing the distress in her voice hal and Glados came scuttling towards the door as did the other hybrids. Glados growled, knowing Eris was upset but not sure why. She put her head in her hands tears rolling down her cheeks, “No.” How was she going to tell them that he was dead? She didn’t believe it herself.

***

Krill floated high in the air.

He hated this, he hated this, he hated every single last moment of it. He hated the big tree things, he hated the animals, he hated the strong breeze, and he certainly hated the pack of roaming land shark things circling below him. Ten days on this planet, ten days in hell where he had been hunted, hounded, and nearly killed repeatedly and to his great and everlasting displeasure. He had looked for the commander but found no sign of him, knowing that it was more than possible they could have landed on different continents.

Krill was pretty sure he was going to die here, and that was not a thought that he particularly enjoyed, but was slowly resigning himself to. HE floated off in the other direction, leaving the circling predators wandering in confusion below him and moved off in another direction.

He was high up now, kind of towards the top of the trees, where he could see large red fruits dangling from their very tops. He had seen red debris on the ground below some of those trees, implying that to spread their seeds they dropped those massive fruits from a few thousand feet like a fruity nuclear warhead.

Not a great way to die, being smashed by giant space fruit in the head.

He sighed.

He was up there for a while before it happened, and watched as a small black dot broke off from the top of one of the trees, at first he assumed it was just something falling to earth, but when the thing picked up on a gust of wind and began heading towards him, he got a bad feeling.

He pushed in mid air doing his best to try and get a better look at whatever it was.

He didn’t like what he saw, as the giant razor beak flying creature winged all the way towards him. He hoped it wasn’t coming towards him ,but was proven wrong almost instantly. He turned around with shock and horror and began floating in the other direction.

It made a loud cawing noise.

It was getting closer 

Krill was ongoing to be able to outlast this thing. He turned to factit, watching as the massive creature grew larger in his vision. He was almost upon him now stretching out its talons.

Krill deflated his helium sack, plummeting out from between its grasp and towards the earth.

The creature flew in a  confused circle, and krill flailed as the wind shipped past him and the ground rose up to meet him. A sudden burst, and he inflated just before hitting the ground landing with panic and shaking looking around for preditors he was sure had come looking for him.

HE frozen in shock and fear, eyes wide.

***

I sighed and set the radio down. It had been more than  a long shot. The radio was pretty strong. Back on earth it could have gotten a message out from the middle of BFE, but it was unlikely to make it very far off an alien planet. I sighed and stowed the thing back in y bag. I knew it had been a long shot for sure, but a gun cn hope.

Besides, I had planned to come up here, on top of this hill anyway, to get a better look of the land. At my side, I carry a large stick, and at the head I have managed to slot a pretty well crafted spearhead into a slot.

It was the only thing Hian had been able to teach me to make.

As it turns out I am horrible at building things.

Like seriously.

I am super shit at it.

But a weapon was better than nothing. Spear in my hand, knife at my belt, and a backpack made out of plant material over one shoulder, I headed down the hill feet shuffling softly through sand. The plant matter slippers I had made weren’t great, but you now what sucks more than Biblical Adam’s wardrobe? 

Being stabbed in the foot by a rock.

I am still walking down the hill wondering just how much cancer I am going to have from all this sunlight on my bare chest and back when I hear it, a soft thudding noise, growing louder and louder by the second. I drop my pack and spin around spear at the ready. The ferns behind me rattle and sway, and a moment later a creature comes bursting through the trees heading straight for me.

A surprised scream breaks from my lips as I dive to the side.

The creature lets off a gurgling bugle noise and rushes towards me again. It ahs bright shimmering blue skin and a line of spikes down its back. Two large claw pincers hang at the front of it’s body, and it runs on two back legs. IT charges at me again, and this time I can’t run. It swipes at me with one of its claw things, but I catch it with the edge of my spear.

The wood sends a painful shock wave up into my arms.

It screams and I scream back kicking at it.

I catch it in the stomach and it jolts back, but that only seems to piss it off. It races for me again and I am just barely able to hold it off as it scrambles over sand. Dust is kicked up into the air around us.

I pull away and stab at it with the head of the spear cutting straight into one of its joints and pulling out with a sickening crunch. It screams and lunges for me. I slip on a fallen fern, my leg sliding to the side.

It catches me high on the chest, and a gout of fire seems to erupt from my torso.

 I scream in agony and hit my back hard.

IT jumps forward on top of me now its teeth snapping at my neck.

I stick the spear in its mouth.

Its back legs kick and beat my thighs gouging open my left leg.

A burst of agony rips through me. It backs up trying to get the shaft of the spear out of its mouth. In that time I reach down, grab my knife and sit up driving it once, twice, three times into the thing's neck. It staggers back and I leap forward tackling it to the ground and repeatedly stab it.

Over and over and over again.

My teeth are gritted.

I scream like an animal and continue to stab even long after it has stopped moving. Exhaustion overtakes me. I am lying on top of its corpse bloody hand still gripping the knife buried in its neck. My body begins to shake, I am breathing hard. The pain hits me in rolling waves as I look down at myself covered in blood.

I am gasping forehead now resting against its shoulder 

I am dead.

I know it 

I scream through the pain as I roll to the side leaving great drops of blood behind me. I grab my spear and my knife clawing my way to my feet. I am dragging the bag behind me.

I stagger over the stone.

Ten days

Only ten days.

I limp forward 

Trip to my knees blood dripping onto the sand. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

I look up at the sky my vision beginning to fade, and then when I look down my eyes go wide and my heart stops. 

[anislandintime]

I think to quit and exit is the only way left, the only way out.

Life has let me down again and each time when I have told myself it cant be worse than this, life has taken it up as a challenge and proven me wrong. Things have been just getting worse and worse. It feels like life is just laughing at me. I feel ridiculed by life.

When GF came to meet SB, it felt so nice. She had taken a bus during the pandemic travelling for 15-16 hrs just to meet him. They were meeting for the first time. Her plan was to stay for a week but ended up staying for three weeks. They had a good time. When she arrived SB told her that he decided to give their relationship a chance only after I suggested him to give it a chance and let his guards down. Both thanked me greatly. Well, while I am happy for them, I dont understand why things had to just go wrong for me in the relationship I pursued in a similar fashion?

UB came to stay with us for a night when K’s roommate’s parents were in town. That night over a long conversation he mentioned of how J’s toxic friendship had affected him deeply and its impact was seen in eroded ability to trust and connect with people. All of this, he said, changed only when K came into his life.

Life, please tell me why do you give solution and liberation to all except me? I am unable to tell how the narcissistic abuse of ND has crippled me from within. I neither get a healing touch nor do I find a shoulder to cry on. Worse, I dont even find words to explain what is happening to me. I continue to suffer in silence with absolutely no hope of recovering ever.

UB also got the job, that I too had applied for. I was instrumental in him finally getting into this stream. Now he has gotten the job I am desperately in need of. He too was aiming for it. But given his cultural capital he could have opted for another job and he had the luxury to stretch his hand and leg in those directions, which I clearly dont have. But he wants a life of comfort. Hence he is seeking this one. It is isnt crime to seek comfort. But what is a life of comfort and ease for him is my hope for a sustainable life for I do not have the cultural capital to reach out to anything else. I think I am going to be bankrupt soon, with no job in hand and no projects coming my way.

SG texted saying she and ID are getting married next month. When I saw the text, I literally jumped off my seat and gave a punch in the air. I can never forget how SG had wept uncontrollably by the sea one evening recollecting how her extended family had beaten her, her parents and her sisters when they found out that her eldest sister was dating a Christian. The memories of it haunted her every time she thought of telling her parents about ID. But now, she says her parents and sister are fully supportive of her and she doesnt care what the extended family thinks. She sounded very happy and I am happy for her.

Such news make me unbelievably happy. But at night when I finally switch off all the lights and try going to sleep... There is only one question which comes down like a lightening and strikes me hard. WHY DOESNT ANYTHING GOOD HAPPEN TO ME EVER? WHY LOVE IS SO ELUSIVE? WHY PROFESSIONAL SUCCESS OR SUCCESS IN RELATIONSHIP PERPETUALLY ABSENT IN MY LIFE?

Mother is unwell. Father is unwell. The times when Mother was hospitalized drained me out completely. I dont know how will I manage all this, with no support- physically and even emotionally- and also with no income. To add to these, my own mental health is collapsing. The severe damage caused by ND’s narcissistic abuse has made me perpetually nervous, anxious and also feel perpetually threatened. By what, from whom- no clarity. But I constantly feel I am under threat and I am about to be attacked. I feel severely insecure and unsafe. The abuse has left me in a state where I am unable to trust anyone and I feel disconnect from everything and everyone. All of these has made it difficult for me to even speak of what I am going through, to friends or even to strangers. I cant trust anyone anymore. I feel uneasy throughout. Is this what they call as PTSD? I dont know. What did I do to deserve all these? All I did was love this girl and see only goodness in her. And it turns out that she only abused me, manipulated me, exploited me and even without me realizing it, fractured my soul and destroyed me. She even had the audacity to repeatedly text me asking how my mother is doing. Wonder where she got to know about it from. I wouldnt be surprised if AN was the source of news for her. That idiot of a friend who took pleasure in turning my pain, my suffering into a spectacle- something to derive entertainment from! How foolish of me to have trusted him for so long as a friend! Was it him or was it AG? I dont know. I dont know who to trust anymore. Why did ND repeatedly text me? Even call me! She also sent a mail. I did not bother replying to the texts or even the mail. Did not answer the calls. I did not want to have any form of communication with her, especially after that accusatory mail she sent when I shared with her a paper, which I thought would be useful to her. She made it sound like I was being intrusive and pushy and also unwelcome. Later she doesnt mind repeatedly texting me, calling me. Had I called or even texted her, she would have brought down the sky screaming and shouting and unleashing violence on me. But when she does it, it is to be perceived as an act of kindness and concern. Even if it is done just so that she can convince herself that she is kind and concerned and not because she actually has any concern. What a performative life she leads; where she lies to herself and believes in her own lies! She is more interested in coming across as  a good human than becoming a good human. When I did not reply to her texts or mails and when I did not answer her calls, she made AS- her friend- call me, text me. When his father was unwell earlier in the year, I used to check up on his father’s health condition often and also extend my moral support to him. And he chooses to become a ‘flying monkey’ to a narcissist? Or may be he doesnt know of the ways in which his friend caused hurt and wound to me and the core of my being. I abruptly ended the conversation when he called me from an unknown number. I did not return the call as I promised. He texted me later on. I replied to it after a day or two. He doesnt bother replying to that. But then ND calls me. I dont know why after some days I felt I was holding grudge like ND does and in order to be not like ND, I decided to reply to her mail and I did. She doesnt bother to reply to that. Probably she was satisfied knowing that the person who she wronged and damaged, doesnt mind replying to her; which helps her showcase the world and make herself believe that she isnt a bad person and more importantly she has control over the people she has abused also. So no reply. She persistently called and texted to make herself believe that she is not ignored, not neglected. Once she gets to know that the other person, though wronged and hurt by her, still writes back to her, she is more than happy; her ego is boosted and she goes back to her silence, her way of showing her power and her control. She constantly says how abusive her father is. I dont know him but from whatever I know of him through her, I must say that if at all he endorses his way of being, then he must be super proud of her daughter for she has outsmarted him in becoming abusive, toxic, exploitative and harmful. If at all ND rejects her father’s ways of being, then she must also be disgusted by herself and must not forgive herself ever because she has been no less to her father in being abusive, toxic and exploitative. I replied to her mail not because I wanted to strike a conversation but because I did not want to become like her. So, I also wrote her a mail after few days when TV news spoke of floods in her ancestral town.  Immediately she texted me on WhatsApp, in an extremely friendly tone. I replied to that in a cold tone because I did not know how she would react. When I replied in a friendly manner to her query about my mother’s health, she went silent. When I had earlier replied elaborately to her mail spelling out how SN had plagiarized her thoughts, my long mail expressing solidarity and offering understanding was responded to with silence and later an accusatory mail! Even when in July she called wanting to clear things and sort things, when I spelled out what hurt me, she not just swung sword of words at me but also made it sound like I was the one causing hurt and told me that her therapist had advised her to stay away from me, as if I was the one hurting her! Any way, after telling me that she wants to disconnect from me, she texted me within an hour asking if she can check on me once in a while. When I responded to that in a friendly manner, saying we should probably together meet a therapist as suggested by her, she replied in an extremely hurtful way and arrogant way saying her ONLY problem in life was me! After that she blocked me on WhatsApp. Every time I have tried to be friendly with her she only attacks and accuses. Her constant flips and backflips are mindfucking and toxic. I dont know how to deal with her, nor do I know how to heal from the aftereffects of the trauma she caused... and also, I dont know how to deal with the love and compassion I still have for her somewhere deep inside of me. I hate myself for this.

Life, please be kind to me and end your relation with me this very night. I do not wish to wake up tomorrow morning. Please leave me. I wont hold you accountable at the door of death. But I beg you, please let me die and leave me. I am done. I am tired. All I sought in my entire life was some genuine love and some real deep connections. Even that was not made available to me, even if in a small percentage. I certainly deserved a better life. But it is okay, I wont complain. Now, I want to take the exit door and leave. I am tired. This pain, this loneliness, this suffering... all are just unbearable now. Death, please do not be like life. Please embrace me. Hold me in your arms and take me with you. Tonight.

[taintedkibou]

beauty & vice - part one

[baton touch] - summary of the predecessor fic  [the transfer, the thug, & and the artist] 10,000k+ predecessor fic 

Mishima made sure to remove the Shujin blazer this time, stuffing it into his locker at the school’s entrance. He was late for his first class, but being in the top fifteen percentile of well-tested students meant his tardiness would be overlooked.  He had new footage from his old school that he wanted to share with Sakamoto and Kurusu.

 Lunchtime was out of the question, so Mishima asked if he could see them after school. The roof was taken by third years that looked ready to become yakuza after graduation, but Mishima had another location. A tool shed near the abandoned greenhouse that once belonged to the Gardening Club; he’d done his research. They set up outside, Mishima dragging a table from the greenhouse. Getting caught coming out of a place so cliché would cause more suspicion than any of them needed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

Ryuji glanced at the small figure fiddling with his phone and couldn’t help but wonder how Mishima managed to sneak into Shujin to capture this video. Each classroom lined up accordingly, so there would be no place for him. Unless... “Did you bribe someone?” Ryuji muttered before he could stop himself.

Mishima blinked at him, his brown eyes large and unassuming. “I might have,” he admitted casually. 

“Look at how much our little boy has grown,” Akira laughed, tousling the already unruly dark hair. Mishima didn’t shy away from the touch. If anything, he leaned into it.

“Stop corrupting him!” Ryuji slapped Akira’s hand away, pulling a surprised Mishima behind him. “And who the hell would have a kid with you?!”

Akira pouted, placing a hand against his heart. “Ryuji. You wound me.”

“Stop it,” Mishima sighed, stepping out from behind Ryuji to continue his previous ministrations. When his phone refused to balance, he dug around in his school case to find the stand he rarely used. “Remember that ransom note Kamoshida received a while back?” he muttered as he connected the acrylic pieces. “I think the sender actually went through with it…” Making sure he had the other boys’ attention, Mishima tapped his phone so the video could play.

The steady camera angle was tilted to accommodate the doughy figure of the principal as he walked across the stage and up to the podium.

Ryuji took note of the blond twintails near the front of the row, but then focused his attention back on the Principal once the man started speaking.

“As you all know, a tragic event took place the other day. Thankfully, we have been informed that she has pulled through, but it will take some time until she recovers.”

Ryuji freed a hand from the pocket of his school slacks to tap Mishima on the shoulder. “Is that true?”

Mishima fiddled with his hands. “She’s in a coma. The worst of her injuries have been taken care of, though, so I guess it is true on some level.”

Ryuji huffed out a sound of disgust. Even in a dire situation as this, adults still lied. The principal was forced to cut his speech short a loud bang of a closing door interrupted him. The blond that piqued his interest before let out a startled gasp at the appearance of someone off to the side. Ryuji didn’t need any guesses to figure out who it was, and gritted his teeth after the camera found him. Kamoshida.

“I… have been reborn,” Kamoshida stated pitifully, his broad shoulders uncharacteristically slumped.

Akira snorted, muffling any forthcoming sounds with his hand after being elbowed in the side.

With heavy steps, Kamoshida made his way along the side of the gymnasium, climbing up onto the stage to join the astonished Principal. He didn’t need a mic for the student body to hear his confession. “I have repeatedly done things that were… unbecoming of a teacher. Verbally abusing students… physically abusing my team, and sexually harassing female students.”

Mishima’s left hand rose, gripping his right arm, both Ryuji and Akira tracking the movement. Akira covered Mishima’s hand with his own, whispering in his ear, words of comfort that Ryuji couldn’t hear.

“I am the reason why Suzui Shiho tried to kill herself!”

The video feed became shaky as the camera holder was jostled by the alarmed student body. Words and slurs flew back and forth, but the camera’s main focus was the proud man, now down on his knees, bowing and crying his sins. “I thought of this school as my own castle… There were even students that I sentenced to expulsion, simply because I didn’t like that…”

Ryuji ignored the whispered gasps of his name. No one cared then; why should he care what they thought now?

“I am truly sorry for putting innocent youths through such horrible acts…”

Ryuji opened his mouth to yell a retort at the video, but caught Akira’s warning gaze. Mishima was with them. Mishima, who knew nothing of the other world where they’d beat Kamoshida’s Shadow into submission.

“I am an arrogant, shallow, and shameful person. Now, I’m worse than that…” Kamoshida slumped onto the stage, his towering figure now curled into a prostrating position. “I will take responsibility and kill myself for it…!”

“Fuckin’ coward,” Ryuji spat.

Someone else agreed with his assessment. Above the yelling faculty and wily students filled with unrest, a voice rose. “Don’t run, you bastard!”

The camera focused on the blonde, now standing ahead of the line of students. Her face went unseen, but her stiff body language filled in the nonexistent gaps her angry, accusing voice didn’t leave behind. “Shiho’s still alive ever after all the things that made her want to die! You have no right to run from this!”

“You’re right,” Kamoshida whimpered, a sniveling sound. “I should be punished under the law and atone for my crimes. I did horrible things to Takamaki-san as well,” he sobbed. “I tried to force her into—”

“Shut up!” Takamaki screamed. She fisted her hands over her ears, hair obscuring her face as she ducked her head.

Akira’s eyes widened. Even through a recorded video, he saw it. The slight distortion that surrounded Takamaki in that moment of emotional distress. She had a connection to the cognitive world. The amount of times they visited Kamoshida’s Palace before toppling it probably made her more susceptible to its influence. Could she be an ally? Akira pulled himself from his thoughts just in time to see Kamoshida grovel across the stage, pleading for the police to arrest him. He smirked. A job well done.

Mishima stepped out of Akira’s embrace to end the video and collect his items. “Takamaki recognized me after they dragged Kamoshida off the stage. I escaped during the chaos.” He closed the flap of his school case, lifting the bag from the table as he turned and faced his classmates. “Just like that note said—he really did confess his sins. Is this… real?” Mishima let out a frustrated groan, hiding his face behind his bag. “Why am I asking you guys? You probably don’t know any more than I do!”

Ryuji pushed the bag down to grin at Mishima. “Do you have someone whose heart you want to change?”

Mishima’s hopeful look didn’t go unnoticed, but he made a valiant attempt at hiding behind a lopsided smile. “No.”

Ryuji arched an eyebrow, making his skepticism at the response clear, but dropped the issue before it could grow into unwarranted suspicion. “As much as I hate leaving you with this guy,” He jabbed a thumb at the innocent Akira standing off to the side, “I have to meet a friend. Stay out of trouble, Mishima.”

Mishima watched Ryuji walk away over the top of his school case. “He blames himself because I got transferred. He stood up for me—for the whole volleyball team. Why am I telling you this?” he sighed with a strong shake of his head. It was the past and that was where it needed to stay.

“How ‘bout I treat you to Big Bang?” Akira hummed, pushing Mishima’s bag lower so the shorter teen could look at him.

“I prefer going to the dinner…”

“Steak and coffee, then!” Akira’s declaration was accompanied by a triumphant fist pump.  

Mishima smiled at the other’s endless energy. It makes one wonder what he did in his past to end up at a dump like this. Again: the past stays in the past. Falling in step with the transfer student, they left the school campus and headed for the station.

Akira was a busy boy for the next week. He prowled the streets in search of clues that would help them take down their next big target. If he took care of a few smaller problems along the way, who could blame him? Too many corrupted and violent citizens were being ignored.

He always loved seeing them cry. Even babies had more tact whining for an attention than an adult blubbering about forgiveness for his sins.

The universe obviously decided Akira had played around long enough, shoving Ryuji into his path like it was wont to do when he strayed too far.

—

"Wanna go to the gym?"

Akira wasn't expecting such a polite tone from the blond, considering they were still in class, and was stunned to silence. Was this in celebration for the downfall of Kamoshida, or was his fellow classmate trying to be civil?

Ryuji's brow creased as the seconds ticked by, a scowl taking hold of his frown. "Forget I asked," he snapped, already turning on his heel to go back to his corner desk.

Akira snapped out of his stupor and gave chase, as short a distance as it was. "Sorry. I would want nothing more than to spend time with you, but..." His hand rose, but never made it to his bangs, and fell back to his side. "Yusuke invited me out."

It was Ryuji's turn now to be surprised. Yusuke hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to him, but then Yusuke was also his own person and probably had a reason. "Whatever. If you see me loitering around, I have free time, so ask me if you want to hang out."

Akira kept his elation to a minimum with a small smile and a quick nod. "Okay." He watched Ryuji pack his school case, backing up when the blond walked by him to get to the door. Akira exhaled the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders slumping when he did. The more time they spent together, the more he limited his teasing and gave in to the flustered behavior that comes with a crush.

Akira walked back to his desk to finish his own backing so he could head out. He was supposed to meet Yusuke at Shibuya's underground walkway.

Considering Madarame's "house", it was easier to go in from Central Street. When Akira descended the stairs, and turned the corner, he realized where his nervousness was coming from. Yusuke stood at the end of the wall, hands folded behind his back in an elegant, yet relaxed pose. Winning over Yusuke would be his biggest conquest.

Yusuke lifted his head, brushing his bangs out of his face, and Akira's stomach attempted to somersault up to his throat. The taller teen didn't smile, but he did acknowledge him with a nod. Akira adjusted his bag strap after coming to a halt, tilting his head questioningly. "Where are we going?"

"Madarame has a Palace, doesn't he?"

Not the greeting he was expecting. Not a date, then. Akira tried not to let his disappoint show by feigning nonchalance with a shrug.

Yusuke's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing. "He... doesn't?"

"He probably does," Akira lied. Madarame had a hideous Palace, but it wasn't time for Yusuke to see it yet. "But it will take me some time to figure out how to get in." He tilted his head, glasses catching the station light and obscuring his eyes from view. "Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes." Yusuke cast his gaze downward after his soft admittance, studying the floor tile. “I saw the news about Kamoshida and hoped that we would be able to do the same for sensei.”

"At least you're honest," Akira sighed, feeling sorely disappointed. He could've been spending his time with Ryuji.

"Of course he's honest, asshole."

The bump from behind sent him stumbling forward. Akira caught himself before he fell, already knowing who the culprit was. He heard the voice every day (except Sundays).

Ryuji took his place at Yusuke's side, glaring at the bespectacled teen. "I wasn't jealous, just bored, so I followed you. Since we're all here and near that guy's shop, maybe we should have another talk."

Akira smirked, a quip on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed it, knowing he wouldn't win any points with Yusuke if he disrespected his boyfriend in front of him. "Too early," he said instead. "Even though I helped Mune-chan clear his name, the cops sometime stop by to see if he's still on the straight and narrow."

"...why do you call him that?" Ryuji wondered aloud. "He scares the shit out of me, and I've only seen him once!"

"His reputation precedes him. And I do it because I know it pisses him off," Akira laughed. "He can't lay a hand on me."

"You like flirting with danger," Yusuke surmised.

Akira's eyes found Ryuji's as he replied with a soft "yes". Ryuji looked away, biting his lip to hide his own amused reaction.

Yusuke was no fool. Being an artist meant he had to be aware of every detail, no matter how obvious or obscure. He was also unconcerned with Akira's advances, but knowing Ryuji—Ryuji would beat himself up for thinking he was being unfaithful. In that moment, he realized why Akira's mood soured before Ryuji's appearance. "You wanted to spend time with me."

"Idiot," Ryuji scoffed, bumping his hip against Yusuke's. "Anybody would."

"Nobody wishes to spend time with me other than you. Not even sensei."

Ryuji wrapped an arm around the taller teen's neck and pulled him down to his height. Akira noted they now had the attention of the gossiping housewives nearby; the worse kind to provide new material for.

Yusuke easily slipped free of Ryuji's hold and moved around him towards the stairs. "You two have fun together. I forgot that there's the upcoming art exhibit." He pressed his fingers to his temple. "Things have been so hectic." Even Akira could tell the smile was forced and he hardly knew the artist.

With a soft farewell, Yusuke disappeared into the hallway that led back to Shibuya's central street.

"Shit...!" Ryuji sank into a crouch, fingers tangled in his blond hair. He stayed down for a while, muttering curses and other phrases Akira chose to ignore. When he finally rose, a glare furrowed his brow.

"Yen for your thought?" To prove he was serious, Akira pulled the coin from his pocket and tossed it in the air.

Ryuji snatched it up before it could fall into the waiting palm. "Gym's across the street," he grumbled, kicking the grimy station floor once before leading the way. Akira followed with a wide smile. 

xxx

Ryuji had the best laugh of his life after Akira climbed on a treadmill. He was still snickering even after he stepped off his own machine to squat next to the crumpled heap of a teen. "Pathetic," he snorted. "Why are you so great over there but shitty here in the real world?"

"You think... I'm great?" Akira pushed himself up, his arms trembling even though he'd been working on cardio.

"Don't get cocky. You suck. You're gonna be wasting the protein I gave you if you quit after this." Ryuji's grin was almost malicious. "I'm not done with you, Joker."

Akira felt a different kind of energy course through him and collapsed back onto the foamed floor with a whimper. He wasn't expecting Ryuji to hoist him up and over his shoulder. Akira scrambled to keep his glasses on his face, his legs flailing to find something solid for him to stand on. A slap to the back of his thighs made him go completely motionless. Ryuji froze after a few steps, the reason pressed against his collarbone.

"I'm sorry," Akira whispered. "I..." He had no excuse.

"Wanna take care of it?" Ryuji mumbled, his ears a cute shade of pink. He was the reason for Akira's arousal. It was a nice feeling, knowing he could turn on not just one, but two people without trying (and making a fool of himself in the process).

Ryuji carefully made his way to the locker room, his cheeks growing hotter with every little sound Akira released as he was jostled. Once they were in the privacy of the benched area, he set the brunet down onto the floor and Akira wobbled his way into the nearest stall. Ryuji took a seat on a nearby bench, covering his ears with his hands as he bowed forward. He chanted Yusuke's name in his head, stopping only when he felt a light touch to his shoulder.

Akira stood behind him, flushed, and trying to hide behind the collar of his black jersey. "I guess I really am a pervert," he chuckled in an attempt to make light of the situation.

Ryuji lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug, not sure how to address the situation. Akira obviously liked him, but did he like Yusuke as well? Should they be having this discussion in a place like this? He offered the brunet a weary smile. "Wanna try the treadmill again?"

Akira glared from behind his glasses. "You obviously want to see me make an ass of myself." The tension eased from Ryuji's body and his smile grew into a grin. "It's nice, knowing that you suck at something. Let's test out a few other exercises and work out a routine."

"Aye, aye, captain." Akira gave a mock salute and waited for Ryuji to rise from the bench before they walked out of the locker room together.

Once they were back amongst the machines and reclaimed their own, Ryuji set Akira's for a brisk pace while giving himself a jog. After fifteen minutes, he felt a telltale twinge in his right leg and dialed down his speed. If he pushed himself, Yusuke would never forgive him. He let himself glide along the belt to the back of the treadmill and then stepped off. Ryuji performed a few stretches to loosen his limbs, gritting through the slight pain, and stood tall when Akira stepped off to join him.

"Let's take a shower together," the blond declared with a carefree grin.

Akira's fingers dug into the hem of his jersey jacket, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Ryuji doubled forward, hands braced against his knees as he laughed. "Oh, gods! I can't believe I found your weakness! This is great." He lifted his head high enough to smile up against the brunet. "I'm not making fun of your feelings, just so ya know. I'm doin’ this for your own good. Can't have you poppin’ a boner on the train during rush hour because I’m pressed up against you." Ryuji’s gaze followed Akira’s hands as they folded together in front of his crotch. “Again? I’ll give you this, you have some amazing stamina.” He pushed at his knees to stand straight. “How about you use it to work out the rest of your body?” Ryuji guided Akira back to the locker rooms with a light hand against his lower back.

They showered, two stalls apart—Akira’s took longer than Ryuji’s, and dressed in nondescript jerseys. Their school uniforms were tucked away in their bags.

Akira shoved his hands into his pockets once they were outside in the street, hunching his shoulders up to his ears. "Untouchable, or are we going our separate ways?"

Ryuji thought about his choices and realized he actually enjoyed spending time with the transfer student. When he wasn’t being a pain in the ass. Without an audience, Akira seemed more docile, and so fun to tease. "Separate ways," Ryuji sighed. "But..." He looked to the end of the street, watching the cars drive by. " Despite the shit you told Yusuke, Madarame has a Palace, doesn’t he? I know you know how to get there."

He turned back around and Akira felt his lips spreading into a wide grin. Those eyes were alight again. 'Skull!'

"Can we go to Madarame's Palace tomorrow? I feel like Yusuke's not telling me something. I wanna help him. Maybe I can find something that geriatric bastard is hiding."

"Geria..." Akira trailed off into laughter, hands curled around his midsection. 'The things you say—I can’t help loving you!'

Ryuji's eyes widened, the blond taking a surprised step backwards, and Akira quickly realized his mistake; his thoughts had been spoken aloud. He cleared his throat, freeing a hand to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I do. If you feel my confession will make tomorrow awkward, then just pretend you never heard me. I have part time jobs at the underground mall that I can be doing."

"No," Ryuji mumbled with a shake of his head. "I'm... I feel happy? I don't know what this is, but I still want to go to his Palace."

"Fine." Akira dropped his hand and executed a curt bow before spinning away sharply.

"Ah..." Ryuji watched him walk away, feeling something akin to disappointment. "What the hell just happened?!" he growled to himself.

While Ryuji berated himself for his actions, Akira doubled back using another as a shield to hide him from sight. He made his way through Central Street until he was staring at the rundown hovel Madarame called a home. 

Tomorrow, an annoyed voice reminded him. Akira bared his teeth at nothing, angrily kicking at the guardrail. Yusuke was trapped and Akira couldn't save him by himself. Ryuji was willing, but... Were they enough?

Yes, we are.

Akira found himself relaxing into an invisible embrace.

Soon, we'll have a third. They'll grow so strong—we'll be unstoppable.

Akira bit back a moan and imagined Arsene's wings draping over him. He closed his eyes to feel their gentle, comforting embrace. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of sharp gray eyes watched him wrap his arms around his midsection from the darkness of a second-floor room.

Ryuji had yet to drag his desk back to its original row, and the teacher stopped asking weeks ago. Akira chose to harass Mishima instead of the classroom's other resident delinquent, obviously ignoring the blond.

'Who's making things awkward now, asshole?!' Ryuji pushed his chair away from the desk, purposefully scraping the legs across the floor to create a noise that could rival nails on a chalkboard. Akira never once glanced over his shoulder and that only served to piss Ryuji off even more. Mishima was just a toy to the transfer student. 'You said you loved me... Pay attention to me!'

Mishima released the shudder Akira fought so hard to repress. He attempted to look behind him, but Akira's fingers guided his head back around. The gentle, yet forceful touch vanished when his classmate was snatched out of his seat and dragged from the classroom. Mishima covered his face, muffling his whimpers.

 "Don't ignore me!" Ryuji snarled, tossing the brunet across the bathroom. He'd taken them to the nearest one and now proceeded to lock them inside.

Akira made a soft sound—a derisive chuckle—as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his uniform. "Isn't that what you've always wanted me to do?"

"Not after you go and confess to me! You didn't even give me time to think about it, and you act like you've already moved on."

"Maybe I have." Akira's smile was sickening to look at and Ryuji wanted to wipe it off his face. "Mishima is cute, and he'll listen to everything I have to say. Unlike a certain brute I know."

Ryuji stalked forward, crowding into Akira's space and forcing him to back up until he hit the wall. No. He wouldn't hit him; that wouldn't bode well for either of them. The predatory gleam in Ryuji's eyes, along with a sharp grin froze Akira in place. His eyes widened when the blond sank to his knees before him.

"Ryu—"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes, but—"

"We've been dancing around each other since the fall of Kamoshida." Ryuji's fingers undid Akira's belt and buttons before slowly pulling the zipper of his fly downward. "I'm not easy, and I sure as hell feel like I'm cheating on Yusuke, but..." He tilted his head to stare at the teen above him, eyes bright with a strong resolve. "I want to do this."

Akira swallowed thickly and nodded. Ryuji grinned and returned to unwrapping his treat. Akira's head slammed against the wall, fingers clawing at its hard surface as he was enveloped by a warmth that brought him to a full hardness. He couldn't help but wonder how many times Ryuji did this with Yusuke—the blond was too good. Akira brought a trembling hand forward to rest atop the golden crown, but it was slapped away.

Ryuji pulled off and Akira whimpered at the loss, his hips thrusting forward pathetically to reclaim it. "I'm actually glad you don't see Yusuke every day like you see me. You'd be arrested for indecent exposure." As he talked, Ryuji arranged Akira's pliant body to his liking. He pulled both of his arms behind his back, using the weight of Akira's own body to keep them trapped there. "Or maybe you'd die from the blood constantly rushing here."

With both hands pressed firmly against Akira's hips to keep him from moving, Ryuji licked the twitching erection from base to tip, sucking the head back into his mouth. Up above him, it almost sounded like Akira was crying. 

—

Akira had cried—from absolute euphoric bliss. There was no hiding the tear tracks when he stumbled back into the classroom well past the lunch hour. He was easing himself into his chair when Ryuji sauntered into the room shortly after, slamming the sliding door shut behind him. His grin was triumphant and the students remained quiet, only speculating on what happened between the duo.

There was always a power battle in class 2-2 between their worst delinquents, and on rare occasions, Sakamoto Ryuji would end up victorious. This was one of those occasions.

Sakamoto would never ask the faculty anything, a fact he'd made clear during opening ceremonies of his second year. Security had to drag him from the stage as he screamed how he felt about adults and authority. So it was no surprise when the blond stopped at Mishima's desk to ask about the current lessons before making his way to the back of the room. He ignored Kurusu on the way there, not that the transfer student would have noticed.

Kurusu's head was resting on his desk, atop folded arms that acted as a pillow. He was currently working his way up the rank of test scores, so she would allow him to rest this once. Whatever Sakamoto did had obviously been brutal. 

x

Akira woke with a start, a hand pressed over his pounding heart. A golden arrow had been lodged there, courtesy of one "Robin Hood". It hadn't felt like a dream, though, which meant trouble was brewing. 

[part two] [part three] [part four] [part five] [part six]

[szebastianonne]

“You Are What You Repeat” – Really?

“One comes, finally, to believe whatever one repeats to one’s self, whether the statement is true or false.” – Napoleon Hill

Above quote made me wonder…

Do we actually begin to believe what we repeat in our minds?

Do we become the person we fear of becoming, by keep repeating in our mind, during conversations, an in action the very act that defines who we become and what we were originally afraid of becoming – every chance we get?

Does the repeated information that is pushed in our face over and over, really change what and how we think and ultimately the choices we make in our lives?

_________

We do not have to look too far for an answer – Advertising does it to us, day-in and day-out, NON-STOP! Wont’ you agree?

We see the same product/service being promoted over and over and Over and OVer and OVEr and OVER. You get the hint! It goes on until we just can’t get the advertisement out of our head. Next thing we know, at the supermarket – we don’t even realize how smoothly we pick up the very product we have been watching over and over, and place it in our shopping trolley without a second thought. This goes to show the impact of repetition in our day to day life. Now imagine things outside the marketing world and about your own life. Things that are repeated non-stop by our communities, families, friends, teachers and we are trained to think and believe a certain way. We become the by-product of the social repetitions that are drilled into our thought system relentlessly.

Remember when you were a little child and were asked ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Ask yourself – Have you just become that .. or something similar? Studies show a considerable percentage of individuals end up in the jobs they are repeatedly told they will be good at or will ‘become’ when they grow up. Those who go against the ‘drilled-in’ ambition are often frowned upon, though that phenomenon is decreasing by the day. Not as quickly though, as we’d like to. Stereotyping the jobs and careers on gender-roles, preparing our mindsets according to our gender continues to take the lead to date.

Now, it could be that you wanted to be a pilot and ended up working at the reception of a travel agency but hey … that’s possibly how far you were meant to be in aviation industry, not to forget Success is directly proportional to effort and intelligence involved. Who would you blame anyway – at the end of the day what you become is directly proportional to the efforts you put towards your dreams – isn’t it? But here is the mind-blowing question: Were you meant to be in the industry you ended up in, or were you socially-repeat-trained to become who you have become? If you look at most successful names out there, you will find, the happy, progressing and authoritative figures out there have done something outside the box and beyond the repetitions they were raised with and created a niche and success path of their own. Though, there is no evident research or data to substantiate this theory, that we know of.

_________

But does it mean if you repeat to yourself – even as a joke, (as some people I know do as part of their dark humor) “I may have cancer, who knows” when they are tiniest bit unwell. You reckon they end up getting it … well I guess its brutal question to ask and a morbid way of putting things – but underlying question here is – do they know something  that makes them repeat it over and over as a joke and is it something they are preparing themselves for by constantly joking about it? Or are they getting their network used to the idea, so if it happens, it’s no-brainer? Could it be that they know that the lifestyle they are leading is high-risk for a certain medical condition and increases their chances of being part of the scary-statistics? If so, why not change how they live, improve the choices they make and repeat to themselves the better steps they can take and inspire others as well? I know, I ask too many questions. I suppose I try to not repeat but ask, learn, evolve, as much as I possibly can.

Touchy topic, and at the risk of sounding defensive, I am not making light of Cancer. I have lost 22 people in my immediate network in less than 8 years due to this horrid disease. I have shed far too many tears to ever mock cancer – instead I am asking valid question! And maybe it is a way of reducing the fear, stigma and all the baggage that comes along with it. But I cannot say, as I am not an expert – but yet the thought does stimulate my mind and increases my curiosity as to what could be behind this? Why would we joke about something so scary …. ! ? ? ?

_________

One of my exes (umm yeah I have more than one!) said to me all the time that I should not joke so much. She strongly believed ‘behind every joke is some bitter and real truth’ and I always seemed to disagree with her because I am known to joke for no reason and all the time. It is just who I am. But when I think of it – I agree with her in essence – every joke began with some incident, silly, funny – someone was being laughed at – it could be you or it could be someone else. But there is always someone or something you are laughing at and there is somewhat real situation that became funny for the audience. She’d be thrilled to know finally I agree with her on something. Yeah you wish Trish! (no, not her name!)

_________

My father always joked about death and constantly laughed and said ‘Hey it’s the only truth of our life – we all die, so why make it a taboo and why not talk about it?” – Mom and I always got annoyed (not so much – he always made it funny!) but… he died young and healthy.. At 48… it hit hard but when I think of it – had he not joked about death all the time, we would not have dealt with the loss the way we did. He prepared us every day in our lives that one day one of us will leave the rest of us. What seemed a cruel joke at the time, prepared us mentally to move on in our lives with or without each other – certainly the memories and feelings will always be there.

I can never get over the fact that I lost my father just when my career was beginning, but I also can never underestimate the power of truth, reality and preparation in his intentions. He was a Social Activist, he was fighting against ‘Big Money’ people for the poor, destitute, ignored and abused commoner. He knew one day, some way or the other our family will face a horrible tragedy like this. He was right, and he prepared us. I don’t know if I am more grateful or angry at him for knowing this, preparing us for this and leaving us. But I know, we have survived because his repeated jokes prepared us for the worst and kept us strong in the worst event of our lives.

It is amazing; things we don’t think of and don’t realize actually do rule our lives.

_________

Remember the song “I am beautiful, I am beautiful – damn it!” by Bette Meddler? You may laugh at my expense; but it always seems to works for me if I am feeling down or ugly.

We all do at times! So once again, repeating the information – in this case a song, does change how I feel about myself and does help me lift my spirits and gain my strength back.

So to me it appears, We really are what we repeat! How about you?

#INSPIREinfluenCEL

Szebastian Onne G. S.

Originally Published on http://szebastian.com on December 21, 2010. Republished with authorization. Copyright Reserved. For more inspiring articles, click here

[self-wonderland]

What au would fit tina and each ship best?

i love aus

thanks for sending this!!! ♥

okay so! shina woud def be fairytale au. as them being royalty, and probs betrothed… or maybe shiro saving tina from a dragon? except tina actually befriended the dragon that was just lonely and sick of being attacked and shit, and explained so to shiro, so shiro didnt harm the dragon, the dragon just became their friend and pet and everyone truly lived happily ever after

tidge would be roommate au!! they wouldnt know each other and would like study completely different things and everything, but theyd be comfortable living around each other, and theyd start getting more involved in what the other is studying and doing and theyd just end up knowing each other very well and start falling and everythings cute and pure. also theyd pull allnighters together and then die together

keina is!! man i dont know if theres an au for this and how its called?? tina just works reception at keith’s gym, and shes there when he gets there really early and its pretty much just them, and while she enjoys the sight, sometimes they chat when he stops for a break buys a bottle of water at the vending machines in front of the reception, shes bored and asks him questions and hes not that bothered, and they end up talking a lot and they get acquainted and then everytime keith comes in shes cheerfully saying goodmorning to him even if shes dying from tiredness (and proceeds to faceplant on the desk and be like “kill me i hate being here so early in the morning”. he snorts and is like “and whose cute face am i supposed to see if youre not here?”. he realises what he said and they both blush and he just nyooms to the changing rooms)

tince coffee shop au!! lance works at the coffee shop, tina is there often because she likes the coffee and its a cute quiet cozy place she feels comfortable in so she comes in whether to do work or just spend some time, esp when shes in a bad or depressive mood and she needs to be away from home but somewhere she feels safe. lance always cheers her up and he always knows what to say without going overboard and making her uncomfortable! lance doesnt want to be too bold so he never gives her his number but one day she comes in and she tries to be chill but its obvious shes crumbling from depression and whatever happened at home so she just slumps over an armchair and orders the usual with a weak voice and just keeps her head down and just kind of tries not to cry and breakdown there and then, and lance gets it and does super cute latte art and gives her her favourite pastry even if its not her usual because its more expensive, and he pays everything for her, and asks someone to cover for him for a few minutes (and uses up his break for that, pretty much) and joins her and likes the way she lights up at the sight of the pastry, and when lance tells her that the bill is already been taken care of, and he tries to ask her whats wrong and she doesnt reply but she folds up a little more and looks away so its obvious she doesnt want to talk about it, so lance casually changes subject like “you know whats wrong in my life?” and dramatically retells of like something super stupid that happened, probably with his siblings, and makes her laugh and cheers her up and never leaves her alone, for the entirety of his break (that his coworkers make as long as they can before they need him back or theyll die, but their coffee shop isnt usually busy so thats good luck), and just takes her mind off of stuff and makes her feel better and she? appreciates it so much. and when hes like “ah man they need me back, theres not enough lance for everyone! ill see you later, sweetcake” but before he can leave she calls to him and just thanks him and hes like, “im always here for a cute girl like you” and winks at her before going back to work.

she finishes her coffee and before leaving she writes her number on a piece of paper and when she brings her cup and plate back she also leaves the paper, making sure lance sees it, and leaves.

he calls her as soon as hes off and they start going on dates and theyre adorable. i wrote too much about this. i swear i didnt think about this before.

tink highschool au!! theyre in a lot of the same classes and they exchange notes sometimes when they sit close and they end up helping each other a lot in different subjects so they end up sitting next to each other more often and end up being friends and then start liking each other eyyy

allina mermaid au!! tinas the mermaid and shes so curious of the humans?? (or… alteans whatever) and shes told repeatedly to not contact the humans but she decides to take secret trips to the beach anyway ofc. she sees from far away allura, sitting on the beach humming and enjoying the dawn with her feet in the water and she looks so calm and so pretty that tina decides that, since no one else is around, she wants to try and get closer! allura is at first confused about who would be out in the water at that time, but she then sees her tail and is so excited?? and tina at first is scared but allura still has a calming aura so she explains with a soft voice that she wont hurt her, shes just never seen someone like her, is she a mermaid? so tina slowly gets closer and nods, and they end up talking a lot about each others kingdoms and cultures because theyre both curious people, and tina never gets caught and allura is smart about how to avoid being caught and respects tinas wish of not being known to anyone else so she keeps it to herself, but they meet most nights at the beach and sometimes they play around, but mostly they talk. and they never end up married or anything, in my idea of this au, but they do end up having really strong romantic feelings for each other, so they decide to start dating. and its all a secret and all, but they meet often, and tina gives her a special seashell they can literally call with whenever they cant see each other or alluras on a trip or if they just want to hear each others voice during the day, and they definitely have good morning calls!!! and allura is a princess so she needs to marry for her kingdom, but it is always clear to everyone in the kingdom - and to alluras spouse - that it is not a love marriage, just a marriage for the good of the kingdom, and her spouse is a good friend and confidant (although theyre never told about tina either) and they respect it and alluras such a good queen anyway that no one doubts the ability for her and her spouse to be good rulers without being actually romantically involved. so allura still secretly dates tina and tina knows of this and shes?? so touched that allura still wants to date her and didnt want to forget about her to have a love marriage?? tina loves her so much. she just peppers her with kisses so much for a good deal of nights. theyre happy and in love and dating is enough for both of them

[babytrash2003]

Imagine

Dan turns on the camera, he rants about how he is once again depressed, and how everything hurts, how he cant take it anymore, how he is going to end his life. He edits the video, knowing Phil wont be home for a few more hours. He posts the video to YouTube before shutting down the computer and sitting on the floor of his bedroom. He lets more tears stream down his face before putting the knife to his neck and ending it all. Phil has a horrible feeling in his stomach and he runs home, not stopping for even a second. He runs into Dan’s room, seeing his lifeless body, blood flowing from his neck. His stomach lurches into his throat. He falls to his knees and pulls Dan’s body to him, crying into his neck. He starts to scream about how “this cant be happening!” and how “its not fair!” The neighbors hear and call the police. Once they get there they knock loudly, but Phil is still screaming and cant hear anything outside the room. The police finally break down the door and run to Dan’s room, seeing the scene before them. They pull Phil off of Dan and the paramedics arrive minutes later. Phil watches as they take Dan and put him in a body bag, confirming what Phil already knew, Dan is gone. He scream “ He watches them take Dan away. This is not fair! I love you, you idiot! Now I'm never going to get to tell you!” He runs to Dan’s room and rips the yellow police tape off of the door and walks in, avoiding the blood that's forming a stain on the carpet. He walks over to Dan’s bed and screams at, kicks, and hits it with everything he has in him. He wants to disappear. He collapses onto the bed and cries with all the energy he has in him. “How, how could you do this to me? Think of all the things we wont ever be able to do now! We’ll never kiss, or hold hands as we walk down the street blocking out the world. We’ll never be able to stare deeply, lovingly into each other’s eyes. I’ll never be able to grip the back of your thighs, holding you up, as your hands roam my hair and your legs rap around my hips, our lips locked together, we will never be able to do any of that and its all your fault!” Phil screams at the bed as if its Dan himself. He finally gets up off the bed and walks out of the room, going into his own. He feels lost, the bright colors don't reflect how he feels, he feels dark. He feels blue-black. Not the bright blue, but a dark sad blue. He pulls off his sheets and throws them down the stairs. He walks back into Dan’s room and takes his sheets off his bed, bringing them to his own room, and putting them onto his bed. He goes to Dan’s room and does the same with everything else. He goes to Dan’s wardrobe and takes all of his clothes out, putting them in his own wardrobe. He walks back into Dan’s room, doing a one over, to make sure he didn't forget anything. He sees Dan’s computer and walks over to it. He opens Dan’s social media accounts and sees things about the video Dan made. He goes to Dan’s YouTube and clicks his videos, seeing the most resent one posted a few hours ago. It's titled ‘Goodbye Internet’ Phil opens it to see Dan’s tear stained face. “Hello guys, so I’ve been extremely depressed lately. I haven't even wanted to get out of bed to eat marshmallows under my fridge. I didn't even want to make this video because of the energy its going to take. However you guys deserve some closure.” The tears start streaming down Dan’s face again as he says “I can’t do this anymore. It’s as simple as that, I cant live anymore. It hurts too much. All I feel is pain. It feels like someone is stabbing me repeatedly and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, other then take my own life.” Phil’s breathing hitches in his throat as he waits for Dan to speak again. “I know what you’re thinking ‘What about Phil?’ and I know this is going to leave him in a world of pain, I know he loves me. and I love him. But this is bigger then him. I know how much this will hurt me and all of you, but I cant stay here any longer.” Dan says as he pulls a knife into view. The knife he used. Phil’s tears are back, streaming steadily down his face as he lets out a shaky breath. “I love all of you and I want you to know this has nothing to do with any of you. This has nothing to do with anyone but me. Phil, I love you, I always have, we will never be able to be together, but that's okay. I wouldn't have asked you to be with me and you wouldn't have asked either, and even if you had I would've said no, because I wouldn't have wanted to ruin our friendship. But even so, I cant help but think of all the things we’ll never be able to do, kiss, hold hands, be together in general. I'm so sorry, but I love you” Phil’s tears come at a faster rate and he cant see the screen, but he listens to Dan’s voice as it breaks every few words. “I love you all. I love you Phil. Now, goodbye internet” Dan’s voice finishes, breaking on every word, being high and scratchy from crying. Phil wipes his eyes and watches as Dan does the same on his screen and leans in, turning the camera off. And now its over. He is gone and there is no bringing him back. Phil screams, again. He stands up and flings off everything on the desk, including the computer, he wishes that would delete the existence of the video and the fact that Dan is officially gone. But it doesn't. It doesn't change anything. He’s still gone. The video is still out there. Phil walks back into his room, grabbing his laptop and opening Twitter, watching as notifications asking about Dan flood his screen. He types in “Dan is gone, the asshole left me here, to wonder about what might have happened. He we might have ended up being together, but now we can never properly love each other and can never properly be together. He died and if I would've been back five(5) minutes earlier then he may still be alive.” Everyone says things about how it wasn't his fault or that they’re sorry and that they will miss him and other crap, but Phil doesn't even look through it. He shuts his laptop and retreats under his, now black and gray, sheets and cries silently as he slowly falls to sleep. His mother comes a few days later, Phil still hasn't moved from that spot under the covers. “Honey!” His mother calls throughout the apartment, having found the spare key under the matt. Phil doesn't make an effort to move, he just lays there, knowing his mother would come into the room. “Baby” She says in a soft voice as she walks in, seeing the heap he now is under the covers. “Mum, he is gone. I never got to tell him I loved him” Phil says as more tears escape his eyes. “You loved him?” She asks in an astonished voice “yes!” he yells turning to her and hugging her tightly, the blanket falling off his body. He’s in the same skinny jeans and t-shirt from the day Dan died. “Baby, you have to clean yourself up, his funeral is next week, you need to be able to get through it, you need to be there” she says quietly “I-I don't want to” he says, not even having know, he hadn't answered or checked his phone or anything else for that matter since that one tweet. “You have to” she says as she rubs Phil’s back lightly. He finally decides that he should go. He tries to be strong, this is horrible, he doesn't want to be here. He looks around, seeing Dan’s mum, dad, and little brother, crying messes, and he reminds himself that he isn't aloud to be this sad, Dan was there son, his brother, you were just his flat mate He thinks to himself. He looks at Dan’s pale, lifeless body, laying in a casket, and he wishes it was him instead, it should be him instead he thinks as a single tear rolls down his cheek. He holds through the service, but then he watches as they close the casket and drive it off, he follows as fast as he can. He wants it to all be over before he breaks down. He watches them lower the casket into the ground, he watches them start to throw dirt onto the casket, he watches Dan’s family cry, and he cant take it any longer, he breaks. “No! Stop! He cant be gone! I love him and I never got to tell him! Dan, get out of that casket! Tell me this was all some sick joke! Hold me and tell me you’re going to be okay! I have loved you for eight(8) years! Since the day I met you! since the day I first started talking to you I knew you were special! you were my light at the end of the tunnel Daniel Howell, so get out of there and lead me out of this new dark you’ve forced me into!!!” Phil screams, resulting in everyone crying more. His mum puts her hand on his shoulder and whispers “you need to stop” Phil pushes her arm off and yells “no! this isn't fair! He cant have done this to me!” before running off, he runs as fast as he can, as far as he can, before collapsing. Out of breath and out of tears, he falls to his knees a few miles away from Dan’s grave. His heart starts to fill with an overwhelming pain, more then it already had been in. He cries and screams for it to stop, for Dan to be back, for everything to go back so he can just tell Dan that he loves him at least once, but nothing changes. and eventually his heart gives out. Phil’s mum finds him, laying face down, and lifeless. She calls the ambulance and after taking him to the hospital and doing an autopsy, they tell her ��he died from a broken heart” she looks at them as if they’re crazy and they explain “A person can die from too much pain to the heart, you see the heart has strings that hold it together, and too much strain to them- which is usually caused by a traumatic or stressful situation- causes them to break, resulting in a person possibly dying. Your son died from a broken heart.” She watched as the casket fell into the hole with her sons body in it, he was gone. Never to be seen in person again. She held her oldest- and now only- son in her arms as he wept over his baby brothers grave, and she was never the same again.

[vyzynorg-blog]

Soul Prosperity - Part 3

Continuing on the topic of Soul Prosperity I point to the parable of the sower Jesus instructs us that the seed is the Word of God (the Bible) and the soil is our hearts.  In the first blog we covered the topic that we must first receive the Word of God as the final authority of all truth.  In the second blog  we discussed a few manners of approaching the Word, the seed, like bad motives that keep the Word from springing forth or germinating. What does time have to do with the blessings? Its takes time for the seed to germinate and spring up.  The Bible tells us in Genesis 8:22: While the earth remains, Seedtime and harvest, And cold and heat, And summer and winter, And day and night Shall not cease. So we see from the Word that as long as we’re here on earth time and seasons rule everything.  The Word instructs us in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8: For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. Life as everyone experiences it is handed out in time and seasons.  Time (the ticking of the clock) has something to it that can not be retrieved.  Seasons are blocks of time that also have passing in them that can’t be retrieved.  We can’t avoid it and should take advantage of it.  To take advantage of time we need to take up action and do what we’re put on this earth to do.  Everyone definitely has a destiny but few ever achieve it.  Destiny is not fame.  Destiny is simply achieving your purpose. You may think I’m getting off topic here but I’m really not.  I’m digging down deep into the soil because before soil must be broken up well for the water to get down to the seed.  We must first know what season we are in before we sow.  A spiritual season is very much like earth’s seasons.  Consider the spiritual seasons: Winter is when we feel dry and cold in our hearts, feels like we’re in the wilderness wandering.  The temptation to become angry and bitter is strong.  I wake up during those times and just put one foot in front of the other.  Its a time to consider the past cycle of seasons and what we learned.  What did we learn from the people in our lives?  Did we keep them in prayer?  What happened to them?  Who left and who stayed?  Why?  Were they a mirror held up to show you who you really are?  That's when it gets really uncomfortable.  Do we give up and let the wrong things die out or do we need to go through another cycle just like that?  How did we treat the users and the one-way streets?  Did we try to help them or did we get angry and mean before walking away?  Were we a good example of a sheep or were we a goat?  Did we help out those jaded and scarred to come out of their spiritual death?  Did we pray for Godly repentance to grip the hearts of the users we encountered? Spring feels new and there’s a fresh fragrance in the air.  You’re encountering new people and new things.  It’s very important to keep the new people and new things in prayer. What are you supposed to learn from them and what are they to learn from you?�� Pray that your communication with the new people is clear and concise.  Many potentially wonderful relationships and accomplishments that God intended through new relationships have been hijacked by the enemy through poor communication.  Poor communication is to blame for many offenses people have taken up against one another.  It’s sad but true.  Pride is the other robber of great accomplishments God intended to get done throughout the earth.  That’s another blog for another time.  Its good to sow in all spiritual seasons of your life but Spring is your season to sow and grow.  Acting in good faith with everyone secures your integrity and in Winter you'll look back and see what you've learned about humanity and yourself. Summer feels just as good as Spring but the work starts to drag on and the heat can beat down really hard.  You find energy and drive and start the season off right.  Then a storm develops and seems like there is no end?!  Temptation to lose patience will be strong.  Your spirit will thirst for the watering of the Word and you will spend times just bathing in it just to cool off the thoughts in your head.  God’s voice will be distant. Then comes in your harvest!  God broke up that hard soil of your heart and sowed the seed of His Word and watered and fertilized repeatedly while the sun came out and helped.  And oh how grateful you are for the long hot sun because now you’re reaping the benefits of it’s work in you.  And you spread it out and continue to pray it out over those around you so you can share your story about God’s awesome love because each juicy and savory detail has benefits to others.  And oh how those trials drew out the worst stuff in you but now you’re so happy to be over it.  The colors of your autumn come alive before you.  This season is filled with His praise. When you’re spiritually growing from one season into another and finish a full cycle of seasons, you go into the next cycle of seasons.  Spiritual growth is not intended to end and each season and cycle is a continuum of learning and reflecting on the prior season and cycle.  Such are the seasons of the spiritual life walking with Jesus.  Anyone who says life with Jesus is easy is completely misconstruing the Word.  Yes, Jesus said in Matthew 28-30: Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. But Jesus was not saying in this passage that life with Him would be easy.  What He was saying was that it won’t be easy and when it gets rough to go to Him in prayer.  But Soul Prosperity takes a lot of work.  Success lies in the heart and the heart must be willing and correctible.  If you’re only willing to work the Word of God into your life at a fast food level, you’ll get no real spiritual nutrition out of it. Asking Amiss Just Doesn’t Cut it With God. Without the real spiritual nutrition, God will never use you to do great things because God never does anything emotionally.  God never gives to us because He feels sorry for us.  Emotions are a component part of our being and we’re made in His image, which means emotions are only a component of God.  He experiences emotions but does not make His decisions by His emotions.  God being perfect makes perfect decisions and that means nothing received in His Kingdom comes by way of serendipity. We get out of the seed what we put into it.  If we diligently study His Word, we’ll get that understanding needed before we can acquire His blessings (including financial blessings) and put those blessings to use.  If you think financial blessing isn’t tied to your spiritual growth you are sadly mistaken.  Remember, it’s even as your soul prospereth.  God doesn’t waste anything and that especially what blessings come from His hand.  That blessing must be glorifying to God and it’s not glorifying if it’s springing from a heart asking out of selfish lust.  It’s not the material thing that’s evil, it’s the condition of one’s heart and it’s attachment to it.  The book of James addresses this issue.  You have not because you ask not and when you ask, you ask it amiss… which simply means asking out of a selfish, self-centered heart and not considering your motive.  It takes time for us to open up and be willing for God to show us what is at the center of our motives.  For some of us it takes a huge self-inflicted tribulation.  If we’re not correctible, we’ll get another one or just walk away from God altogether. If God let you win the lottery what would you do with it?  It’s not money itself that’s evil, it’s the love of it that is evil.  Money is never to be loved.  Many lives have been destroyed by wealth and the Bible instructs us that money that’s idolized is ‘filthy lucre’ and wealth is deceptive.  Money may be the answer to many problems but too much will corrupt the soil of your heart without the understanding necessary to do what God intends you to do with it.  When people receive a financial blessing from God something good, enduring and glorifying to God comes out it.  The Word tells us:  the blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich and He addeth no sorrow with it.  Prov. 10:22. Again, we must work the seed down and that takes time, prayer and alone time with God to hear His voice.  My recommendation is to take the scriptures of Luke 18:8: Take heed therefore how ye hear: for whosoever hath, to him shall be given; and whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he seemeth to have.  And Mathew 13:23: But he that received seed into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.  I encourage you to write down these 2 scriptures to remind yourself often of the importance to be diligent to Bible study because it’s not only about what you learn, it’s also about the quality of your heart’s experience to bring you that understanding Jesus spoke of. I hope you’re receiving real Biblical wisdom and understanding from this series and it brings you prosperity in every area of your life.  I pray that the Lord Jesus touches the heart of each and every reader and show them the soil this seed is going into.  Reveal to each and every reader the areas of their heart that need exposure, correction, healing and why.  Give them understanding that brings them into a prosperity that allows them to increase the boundaries of the Kingdom of Heaven that the gates of hell will not prevail against.  Help them bring in the harvest of souls that lack the understanding needed to keep them walking with Jesus. Join me next time on Soul Prosperity when the discussion is on where to sow your seed. Be blessed. Read the full article