#Also the same art demon that possessed me last time must have done it again because like why is this art so nice

[inferniso]

✢⁎. headcanons

disclaimer this is a Lot and like half of it ain’t coherent:

first and foremost, idunn is being taken shortly after the good ending of fe6 (think a few months after that last cutscene). this lands her in a spot that’s slightly more developed/healed than what we see at the end of the game, but a long ways off from ascended! idunn. that alt is pretty clearly meant to be a longshot future where she can smile and laugh just by seeing you on the homescreen. my idunn is... getting there. so i reference bits and pieces of what it shows us, depending on what i feel is appropriate.

speak of ascended! idunn! her appearance. or more specifically, her dragon form. it can be inferred from the fact that she was once a divine dragon that idunn used to bear more of a resemblance to fae in this form, and the special art of ascended! idunn supports this with its “chicken” wings and feathered tail-tip. however, it also has one scaled wing, and the base of her tail is black and more similar to the demon dragon form (plus her head is the same). thus it is my personal hc that after having her soul restored and her personality slowly grow inside her, idunn’s dragon form changes to reflect this--gradually reverting back to that of the divine style. right now it’s an amalgamation of a demon dragon head, tail-base, and lower/back-left wing, while the main body + limbs, other three wings, and tail-tip comprise her divine parts. 

she’s a character who has internalized both she/her and it/its pronouns, and will respond to either. generally, i’ll use it/its when referring to idunn’s past as the dark priestess and at times where she feels particularly alienated, and she/her otherwise. your muses are free to interpret and use these pronouns however they wish.

i hate the possessed villain trope, alright. i think robbing a character of guilt and remorse stunts their growth, and part of learning to accept herself must include dealing with the fact that idunn’s actions have permanent consequences. i do believe that people--especially innocent families harmed by idunn’s dragons across elibe--do not forgive her for all that she’s done, and to some extend she struggles with this too. idunn is fortunate enough to have really good support systems in fae and the other arcadians, but it will take some time before she isn’t fearful of her own self.

i also write her as holding onto the belief that she is going to lead the world and bring it peace. it never goes away after she becomes herself again, much like her desire to do something that would make the zephiel who rescued her happy.

her presence is a large one and can easily be detected by the magically adept/other dragons who have the ability to do so.

i welcome any and all legendary weapon headcanons! idunn sort of sees the events of fe6 through the lens of a really horrible dream, and so she regards those who fought her in the final map in the same way as the eight legends of elibe. the baseline instinct for this is fear, of course, for their power and that of the weapons, but she tries to see the good qualities of the eight and apply them to their successors in any way she can. if you want your muse to have used one of the weapons against her, just let me know and maybe look it over with any current roy muns.

she still has the power to summon war dragons, but doing so makes her lose control of her soul, so she tries to avoid it if possible. there may, potentially be a dire scenario in which she must in order to protect someone she cares about, but she’d need to be in the presence of someone she knows could bring her back if she chooses to do so. 

in terms of toa-specific headcanons, i think that in line with forgetting much of her previous personality and the concept of like, everything, idunn is only just learning to read. it’s been thousands of years since she was herself so even if she could have read at some point, the language she knows is considered ancient. she’s gotten a good start in arcadia, but is hoping to learn more at the academy!

she loves music! not surprising considering her admiration for nature and simpler things, but i like the idea that dragons are particularly enthralled by it. the flute is her instrument of choice, and if she picks up lessons at the academy it’d be for that.

and finally, though i don’t foresee myself really ever getting into shipping with idunn, she currently has no understanding of romantic love and just barely one of familial/platonic love. if she ever does catch feelings for someone, it’d be after a long healing process learning how to catch feelings.

#OOC #HEADCANONS #//many thoughts #//many dragon thoughts..

[hannimatior]

WE ARE TRULY IN THE BLUSHY LUZ ERA, what at time to be alive

anyways some library snuggles for your consideration

#lumity #lumity fanart #the owl house #owl house fanart #tfw you made friends with your rival and then after they saved your life you realize wait have i actually had a crush on them all along? #WOW i'm so excited for the new episode this week can't wait to dive into the deep king lore #i wish that my gay little brain would allow me to draw anything else but you know what it's okay. i'm not mad at all actually #Also the same art demon that possessed me last time must have done it again because like why is this art so nice?? #either that or maybe. maybe i'm getting better.. ... hmm

[maplerin99821]

hey if you accept requests can you make a fluffy fanfic about Lucifer and Mammon being close? like that pic that you reblogged?

Hello, Anon! Omg, sorry for the long wait!!! 🥺💖 I was busy with irl stuff but AAAA I have finished the fluffy fic! I'm sorry if it didn't reach your expectations.😓 It was a bit difficult to write 'cause I'm not really used to writing fluff.😂 But I hope you like it!! (Also, I didn't base this fic off to the art that I had reblogged, but it's still a fluff fic!! It's fan art, and I think I need permission to write a fic about it.😅 So here's fluffy fanfic of Lucifer and Mammon being close.) Thanks for being the first person to request me haha. Please enjoy this. _ A Day To Relax. [ 1 & 2 ]

Mammon's back hurts; he did the best he could to organized the library at RAD. Maybe he deserves this, or maybe not. He sighs for the tenth time of the day.

There's nothing he can do about it because this was his light punishment for skipping classes again. Although he hates doing chores for his discipline, he needed to be a good big brother for Asmodeus.

Mammon decided to skip his classes so that he could be there to support his little brother. Everyone was busy at that time, with upcoming exams and projects, not one of the brothers could make time for Asmo. The latter understood. It's not like he could force his brothers to watch the stageplay with his classmates. But when he saw Mammon among the crowd with his D.D.D out, he almost cried while performing on stage.

(He felt a bit guilty when he found out that Mammon, believe it or not, skipped classes to watch him.)

Mammon stretched his back when he felt his phone vibrating. He took it out from his back pocket to receive a message from Asmodeus.

[Hey.

I just wanted to say thanks for supporting me there.

This beautiful brother of yours is going to treat you tomorrow! <3]

His lips cracked a smile. He feels soft and loved. Mammon chuckled as he took his bag, ready to go home. He had finished organizing anyway; he preferred to play on his phone for a while.

He started walking to the hallways; almost all of the demons were back to their places already. Some are doing their part-time jobs, and some are being lazy at home (Preferably Belphegor.)

"Mammon."

In instinct, Mammon quickly turned around. He already knows that deep voice.

"Are ya gonna assign me another chore to do?" Mammon quickly questioned his older brother, who was leaning into the student council's door frame.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly annoyed already. He pushed back his hair and fixed the wrinkles of his uniform.

"No. Well, if you want to do more. Your choice." With that answer, Mammon crossed his arms, a pout on his face— ready to complain. But Lucifer stopped him.

"Remember that cafe I showed you the other day? Let's go there, my treat." Lucifer stated; he laughed when he saw Mammon froze.

"I don't believe you." His eyes narrowed, looking for a flaw in Lucifer's face and words. "Are ya' truly Lucifer? What if you're a ghost possessing my big bro's body?"

Mammon intentionally loudened his gasp; his eyes were wide, one hand placed on his heart, while the other was grasping on his hair. He paused for a dramatic effect.

Lucifer brought his hand up quickly to pinch his brother's cheek. "You idiot. It's me, of course." He proceeded to ruffles Mammon's hair. "Come on, let's go before I change my mind and give you another chore as punishment. Maybe you could clean up the laboratory next time for a month."

He whispered the last part, but Lucifer knew Mammon could hear him, making the second-born whine.

The two exited the school, taking a detour through the streets.

"I thought yah were gonna give me another punishment." Mammon broke out the silence; Lucifer hummed before replying.

"Why would I? I only gave you a chore for skipping classes, but you being there for Asmodeus? You don't deserve punishment for that."

Mammon stared at the far distance. The cafe they were going to has a nearby sea, and he smiled at his elder brother's words; he enjoyed these simple moments between them. (They're rare. They don't hang out anymore like they used to do in the Celestrial realm. That's why, as much as possible, Mammon cherished these moments.)

Mammon could say that he's close with Lucifer, but not like before— It's weird. Lucifer is his older brother, his family. But as time passed by, Mammon started to get nervous whenever he had done something wrong. He doesn't want to anger and disappoint Lucifer. (But sometimes, he can't help it— he misses his big brother's attention.)

"We're here," Lucifer said. Mammon followed the latter's gaze and immediately formed star-shaped eyes.

"WOAH!! I didn't expect it to be this cool! I only saw the picture but never expected that it would be this big!"

Mammon kept looking around the newly built cafe. The cafe was a bit massive, with a view of the sea beside it. Its structure is similar to a casino. Mammon could already smell the fresh-baked bread and pies inside, making him giggle.

Mammon had loved the view it was showing; he could eat while staring at the horizon. The cafe was located on top of a hill, not too far from the beach. It looks so nostalgic and therapeutic that Mammon took his time admiring the whole place while Lucifer already entered the cafe.

Mammon wished it wasn't too expensive. He knows that Lucifer would be the one to pay, but he doesn't want to burden him with that kind of responsibility. The second-born tried to grasp the wallet on his bag, but then he hesitated. Mammon recalled that the money in there was a payment to his debt.

Ah, yes. Mammon needed to pay it today but decided it would be better to bond with his brother first.

He sighed, still has a firm grip on his bag. He's feeling unwanted emotions today. He wants to cry, laugh, or do something he doesn't usually do. Mammon was overwhelmed with emotions.

He remembered Levi's words that it's okay to be feeling emotions you usually can't explain. Sometimes, it doesn't have to be a reason.

Mammon's snapped out of his thoughts, thinking that Lucifer was likely waiting for him inside. He turned to see the display of different pastries outside, and Mammon immediately recognized Simeon's art.

Mammon recalled Simeon's word. He said that he's going to work part-time somewhere near the sea. And this made Mammon excited. He had already counted the treats and thinking which one would his brothers choose. After planning, he tried to hurry inside but suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Mammon looked over to his shoulder to see an unfamiliar demon. Their body is most likely the same size as Beelzebub but with a strict stare present. Mammon felt like he was burning.

"Heya! May I ask—who are you?" Mammon said; his tone wasn't that confident, and it's evident with his form that Mammon's going to run away in any second now.

He felt the grip on his shoulder got tighter, and the demon dragged Mammon into a less crowded area. He knows he's far powerful than this guy; he's one of the princes of Devildom. He's the Avatar of Greed. But man, he entirely wants to relax today. Mammon tried to stand with honor and kept his breathing in control.

The demon startled him. "Where's the money?"

And then Mammon realized.

"Oh!? You must be the brother's witch! Ah, here— give me a minute," Mammon took out his wallet and gave them the money. He doesn't feel that nervous anymore. Okay— he lied, maybe a little bit. Can't a demon have fears too? "Geez, you scared the hell out of me for a second there. The agreement was me and her meeting later." He muttered the last part.

But a dark aura surrounded him, and Mammon quickly backed away. He can't meet the other demon's eyes, but he can feel the rage from him.

Is the money not enough?? It can't be. I perfectly counted this; I also worked hard for this. What else could be missing???

"With all due respect, please don't go any nearer to him."

A voice. It must be Lucifer's. Mammon couldn't stop overthinking. What if Lucifer scolds him after this? What if Lucifer started to regret spending time with Mammon because of this?

Mammon looked up, tears threatening to fall. He saw his elder brother, standing behind them as classy as ever. His composure is straight, yet the glaring eyes are full of terror. Mammon recognized Lucifer's stance. It's for preparing himself to change into his demon form if the rest of his younger brothers are in serious trouble.

When the demon started to get closer to Mammon, the latter only felt a swift wind before realizing that Lucifer was there, in front of him now. "Didn't you hear what I said? What else do you need from him?"

"The money."

"It's not sufficient? Then alright, here." Lucifer took out his wallet to satisfy the demon in front of them. Mammon's full-out panicking now. His older brother saved him from trouble, and now he's going to be a disappointment in Lucifer's eyes.

"There, you got the money. Tell your sister that my brother had paid the debt." Lucifer dragged Mammon out of the other demon's sight. He looked back with sharp eyes.

"And as great as reasonable, if you're looking for Mammon—" He looked back with sharp eyes. "—strictly appear to see me. Thank you."

Both never turned their eyes back again as they entered the shop. Mammon quickly explained the whole situation. "I'm sorry! I'm sure— precisely sure that I had counted that money. And it's exactly the price the witch had been asking. I don't know what he's up to with—" He kept on babbling as they reached their reserved seats. Lucifer sighed.

"Look, stop chattering; it's annoying. I believe you. Can't I have a day where I relax with my little brother under no stress or orders whatsoever? Seeing you outside in that kind of situation is making my blood boil. How dare he waste such time when you and I could have been eating here already."

Mammon snickered, ah yeh— It's been so long that he forgot how dramatic Lucifer could be at times.

"Forget about it, Mammon. You had settled the debt, and the food that I ordered is already here. But make sure whenever you're going to meet someone concerning payment, always inform me. I'm serious. If the shares had been a burden to handle, you are welcome to visit my office anytime."

Lucifer already had bread in his mouth, but his expression is still irritable from the situation earlier. Mammon can feel his tears coming back again. Why am I so emotional today?

"Ah. Uhm, hey—" He called out to his older brother. "Thanks for backing me up earlier. I appreciated it!"

Lucifer munched the donut he was holding and then drank the newly served tea. His gaze was on the view outside, seemingly avoiding eye contact. "Hm? Of course. I'm your big brother after all, in case you forgot about it."

In moments like this, it was a rare scene between him and Lucifer. They usually argue and sometimes making each other's day stressful. But, just them eldest brothers, talking and sharing random topics— Mammon cherished this.

And behind that frown the eldest always wears, Lucifer could say the same too. He loved calm moments like this.

"But ain't Michael my first big brother?" Mammon teased. Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Silence, you have no elder brother other than me. Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor, you all are my baby brothers." And when Lucifer realized what he said, he quickly replaced the topic. "And eat the dessert I ordered for you."

Mammon's eyes turned into stars immediately when he recognized the smell, "Woah, no way?! How did you know this was my favorite?!!! This desert is expensive! Big bro! You do love me."

Then they chatted, random topics or something concerning about their home that needs fixing. Nevertheless, the atmosphere around them is comforting and warming. After a while, they had finished eating, and the moon was already out. Both agreed to go home.

"We should invite the others here too!" Mammon stated as he breathed the cold wind that passed by them.

"Yes, that would be a pleasant bonding time. Just don't be too chaotic, please. It's hard to handle all six of you."

It was a great day, Mammon thought to himself. It was entertaining and soothing to talk with his big brother without insults nor orders. Lucifer treated him today; it was— nostalgic for Mammon. It's like he doesn't want this kind of treatment to end. But of course, as the little mischief, as he is, he asked one more request.

"Lucifer!" Mammon rolled the letter r, a bit of a whining tone. "It's night, and I'm tired, yah know? Can I request a piggyback ride?" He knows Lucifer will reject it immediately. So it wasn't like he meant it, already hoping for the worst.

But then Lucifer looked at him, a contemplating expression, before getting down on one knee.

"Alright, just this once. Hurry up before I regret my decision."

Mammon's eyes were wide; he smirked before quickly hugging Lucifer from behind. He felt himself getting lifted off, and it reminded him of the old times, back in the Celestial Realm.

Lucifer doesn't mind; he also missed this. But not like he's going to say this out loud.

I should start spending time with my little brothers whenever I'm free. That would be nice.

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me fanfic #fluffy fanfiction #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon and lucifer #mammon #lucifer #mammon and lucifer #i hope you enjoyed this fanfic #soft fanfic #i tried my best #huhu

[ichika27]

OnS Chapter 106

Well... this chapter is making me ask questions lol. At last though, we’re back to seeing what Mika is doing but is also continuing from where the previous chapter left off. So many things happening at once.

The 2nd Progenitor Rigr Stafford vs. 3rd Progenitor Lest Karr and 5th Progenitor Ky Luc. Lest is having trouble and is worried due to facing a 2nd progenitor while his companion Ky is enjoying himself and feels confident he could win against a their enemy. Rigr realizes in the middle of battle that Ky is probably Urd's right hand man since Ky's ability surpasses that of a regular 5th progenitor.

Rigr aims at Ky's eye. Ky realizes he can't dodge it anyways so he just went straight ahead to land an attack himself. Now the two of them are too connected to each other which worried Lest since he's about to use a lightning attack. Ky just tells him to go for it.

Ky gives his sword as much blood as he could give to make sure Rigr couldn't get away when Lest uses Heaven's Fan. When the attack is done, Ky sustained a lot of injuries.

It seems the attack had worked and had injured the 2nd progenitor as well. I felt pretty suspicious at this moment cause there’s no way these two could easily beat a 2nd progenitor. Plus Rigr wasn’t really that worried despite saying so cause he doesn’t always mean what he tells them. I thought there must be a trick.

2nd Progenitor Urd Geales finally makes an appearance! Lest tells him of what had transpired and Urd isn't amused and tells him that it's impossible for a vampire to escape the cell (he made it so himself). He then tells Rigr to stop messing with his subordinates.

With a clap of the hands, Rigr is back in the cell. Rigr reveals that the entire fight was nothing but an illusion that he learned from humans. lol I knew there was a trick but I didn’t think it was all an illusion. I thought he’d easily regenerate or something.

You know what, Rigr’s teasing nature and laid-back attitude in the middle of battle reminds me of Ferid. They might not be blood-related but he is the one who turned Ferid into a vampire so it’s close.

The two former friends have a little reunion. Ky apologizes for the trouble but Urd tells him it wasn't his fault as Rigr is of a higher rank and can't be helped.

It seems he still cares...

Rigr asks Urd what the latter has in store for him and Urd says that if Rigr doesn't answer his questions, he might just kill him. Urd asks what Rigr’s plan is and Rigr tells him that his revenge plan against the 1st Progenitor hasn't changed yet after all these years so there’s nothing to say.

Urd says that in betraying the 1st, Rigr had also betrayed him and Rigr offered to be killed. He mentions he hasn't forgotten about Urd and has thought about him everyday when they were separated.

I’m sorry... these lines are getting to me. They must’ve been really close friends for them to be this way with each other. They kinda remind me of Mika and Yuu in a way except these two sort of became rivals or something.

Urd then asked Rigr about this revenge plan and how it's going.

I’m guessing the original question is asking about what the plan is specifically but it’s changed to asking if it’s going well. I wonder if Urd had realized what it might be before asking?

Meanwhile, Mika is still inside Yuu's heart. In front of him is a strange eye and he's trying to figure out what this one is exactly.

Mika touches the eye to peek into what's in it. He's then transported to this strange place and in each of the containers inside is an eyeball each. Mika finds himself possessing one of these eyeballs.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recognized this from the Ancient Greece flashbacks several chapters ago.

It’s tiny Yuu-chan! It confirmed that this is Mikaela's room from back in Greece thousands of years ago from the flashbacks. Yuu visits here many times to try and wake up the "sleeping" Mika inside the glass. This is probably a later scenario from Ashera’s flashbacks cause this Yuu isn’t borderline emotionless and acts like an excitable child unlike the Yuu that Ashera first met.

Noya tells him it's pointless as Mika is dead but Yuu tells him that Mika will certainly wake up. It's Yuu's job to wake him after all. Noya comments that Yuu's exact duty is to be the sacrifice to awaken Mika. Yuu didn't hear this and continues to call Mika which annoyed Noya enough and in the end, Yuu was killed.

Okay, so I don’t remember if Yuu had been calling Sika Madu “Father” from before or if this is some new development because I think he just called him “Master” back then? Also, I guess this means Yuu and Mika are connected more deeply than we thought. I wonder how Yuu would be sacrificed.

Noya then uses one of the eyeballs and turned it into another Yuu. The new Yuu could talk but knows nothing. He kept asking so many questions that Noya got annoyed again and killed this one, too. Ashera tells him that it's not right and Noya just says that he just has to get used to it. Plus no one would notice how many had been killed if they made another Yuu.

We’re finally shown how they make Yuu-chan clones. I wonder what changed or how this is done as the new Yuu clone acts like the previous one: loud and excited. He’s totally not like the Yuu that Ashera met who is quiet and sort of emotionless. I thought they would start out like that quiet Yuu first and then learn to be normal but it seems the clones are more like the new version of Yuu.

The next Yuu Noya had created is the one Mika is currently possessing. Of course, this “Yuu” wouldn’t act the same as the others since Mika is possessing it. Noya didn’t question this or at least, he seems to not and just leaves this Yuu be.

So either he’s just faking and realized that there’s something really different (as that look is suggesting) or the personality of the Yuu-chan clones differ from one another that this is a possibility. Also, since Yuu-chan is a clone, who was he cloned from? Was there an original Yuu-chan? What was he then? So many questions...

The 1st Progenitor and the others have arrived. Raimei scolds the kids for entering the room without permission but Byakko just tells her to go easy on them as they're just kids.

The group (minus the 1st Progenitor) looks like their demon selves: from the outfits to the horns). Does this mean they’ve been turned to demons at this point? Also, Byakko’s personality doesn’t look as serious as he seems as he currently is as Byakkomaru. By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever heard their original names being used so not sure if these are right. I got them from the wiki when I was looking at the correct name spellings for the other characters.

Back to the present, Rigr offers Urd the choice to join him in revenge. Rigr tells them that his preparations are ready and apologizes for taking too long with it. He asks Urd if the latter has any hostages and it's revealed that the people Urd was carrying earlier are Shinya and Kureto and so Rigr asked about their demons (which are their former vampire companions).

This is making me wonder what Urd’s plan is. At first of course I thought he’s asking Rigr about this revenge thing cause he wants to know if he could stop it or change Rigr’s mind. But now I’m confused cause the way he’s asking seems like he’s... interested? And Rigr asked about hostages which Urd already has and coincidentally (or not...?) they are Shinya and Kureto who are the contractors of Byakkomaru and Raimeiki. Rigr even asked about the demons.

Like if Urd turned out to switch sides and becomes Rigr’s ally, I don’t think I’d be surprised. The current arc is just everybody switching sides and backstabbing everyone else or having ulterior motives in the stuff they do. How many opposing groups do we even have now lol.

Switching back to the past, Mika continues to observe the others through the clone Yuu. Sika Madu seem to have realized what he really is though and addresses him directly.

I’m betting this is the real Sika Madu cause he’s already left Shinoa. Plus if his other demon companions could go to another demon’s world, there’s no doubt he could do it, too since he’s the most powerful of them all.

Sika Madu tries to put Mika to sleep. A struggling Mika hears Yuu's voice telling him that in order to escape they must work together. If they devour one another, Mika would become Yuu's demon. As Sika Madu continues to use his powers on Mika, Mika finally accepts and lets himself become Yuu's demon.

--

Finally! I guess if this goes well (which there’s a high chance this would go well unless the author decides to prolong the drama), Mika would finally become a demon weapon. it’s also another sword if I remember correctly. I wonder if Yuu will use it now that Asuramaru can’t be trusted? Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered the cover art for one of Owari no Seraph’s artbooks wherein Yuu is shown with his sword and the reflection in it is Mika. Foreshadowing or coincidence? Probably coincidence since it’s the reverse in another artbook. Still it’s cool.

The Vampire side of the story is slowly connecting to the protagonists’ side of the story. It looks like whatever it is that Rigr is planning, it’ll involve the demons residing in a majority of the main casts’ weapons. They’d cross paths sooner or later.

Shinya and Kureto got caught but where are the others? Where are the rest of Guren’s squad? I wonder who the demons are that’s inside of the weapons of the others...

I’m still sad they chose not to use the nickname Mika had for Yuu. “Yuu-chan” is distinctly Mika’s nickname for him (it’s even Mika’s favorite phrase according to one of the fanbooks haha). Plus since they never use any honorifics for the way everyone else calls Yuu (Yoichi’s “Yuu-kun” and Shinoa’s “Yuu-san” are just “Yuu/Yu” now), there’s no difference. Mika calling Yuu by a specific nickname even became a plot point when one of the human soldiers trusted Mika because of how he calls Yuu. Like, I get why they’re not using honorifics in the official translation but it’s still a shame. Now everytime I see Mika call Yuu or refer to Yuu, my mind fills in the missing honorific. It will always be “Yuu-chan” to me.

Anyways, the last page of this chapter never said when the next one would come out. I wonder why? I’m hoping it’s not a hiatus but it can’t be helped if it is. I’m kinda excited for what’s to come next. I wonder what happened to everyone else? Are we ever gonna get POVs from them or are they also just left to the side since they’re not part of the main conflict? I mean they seemed to have completely dropped Narumi since I haven’t seen him in a while.

Thanks for reading this if you did!

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #manga #sana_post

[sxvethelastdance]

Sleep When We’re Dead

Fire God Liu Kang/Johnny Cage

Broken Timeline

 A direct sequel/companion piece to I’m on Fire Again by my lovely friend over @puttingfingerstokeys

Do be warned: This here fic is first-person POV and about as artful it gets for someone who embraces the ‘patching half formed thoughts together like it’s going out of fashion’ lifestyle.  

I am me, and not. It is a paradox that would have given me a headache, were I still human. The experience, the being of godhood. It is a conundrum no more solved by this sudden ascension than it is, had I deliberated on it as the Liu Kang of past and present. 

He does not hear me enter the room. Rather, he sees me touch down upon the ground with more grandeur than I’d thought I had any right to after the portal has closed.

Everyone has gone off to battle. War. That is what we must call it, because that is what the circumstances demand of us, sacrifice and retaliation. We are defined by our battles. The ones we win, the ones we lose, and the ones we cannot fight. I know that my friend feels confined by these definitions, forced to watch his daughter go off without him and let go of his love a second time. It burns at him like it burns at me, knowing that I cannot stop what comes next. Only that we must deal in the aftermath.

“Liu... You’re. Holy fu-” I put my finger to his lips and let out a ‘shhh’, noting the questions that fill his face. We must keep it down, lest the late Grandmaster’s students come running. My presence is intentional, but I would rather not deal with the effects of my interference outside of our reunion. He knows that I am here, and somehow… I think he knows that this is my final stop before I join the others. What I hope is left of them when all is said and done. One cannot predict Shang Tsung’s machinations, only the inevitability of his betrayal. 

“I try to keep my promises when I can.” I look into his eyes and I see hurt and a fire that matches mine. I see his incomprehension and interest, and I find that the fire that envelops me is not in the literal. 

“I’m uh. Diggin’ the mop-top.” Or it is, and the cause is Johnny himself. That is more likely. My hands are at his arms, the same way his had been on mine all those years ago. He jokes, something about a “role reversal” and Reptile having been some variation of a “demon scaly” and I laugh. I am not above that, I will never be above that. Nor do I see myself above him outside of the most literal of contexts here. 

I want to make up for lost time, but with so few hours (minutes, moments. They are all one in the same) until my presence is required at the hourglass, I know that I cannot close the wound that I have opened. But there is time. Enough for one a last kiss. Because no matter what happens at the dawn of time, the things that have come to pass under my eye, they cannot stand. 

I do not lie. 

I did not lie. 

I lied.

What else can I do, when faced with enemies who have lied and slaughtered their way through the best of us? Who fight tooth and nail for the undoing, even if it is their own? It is madness, and perhaps that is what is required this time. Madness. 

I think no more on the subject when his lips are on mine, and that phantom flame ignites in my chest. I haven’t seen him in 25 years, and yet I saw him hours ago. Another paradox, another longing. He moves with purpose, as do I. We are both desperate and lonely in our own way. Our paths, crafted as they were by the mad titan were ours to walk. And walk we did until the time where we met again. I wrap my hand in his, still clutching the headband bestowed upon him by my other self, and he presses himself to me as if I’ll dissolve like the sands that dictate our lives. 

“You know the deal, kicky longstockings.” Johnny says, a watery laugh escaping him. I find beauty in it the same way that I find beauty in the creases of his face, the mark of his survival. No longer am I bitter about this, that I died young, no longer do I mourn for the man I never got to be. I have made peace with that, I have let go. I do not let go of him, my other hand squeezing tight enough to deepen the bruises that color him from what I assume are the previous night’s encounters. I know the deal, so I seal his mouth with mine again, and we take what comfort we can from this, my fingers wiping away at what tears have gathered at the corner of his eyes. 

He brushes the hair from my face (what I have left out in my ascension) and I feel sparks, both phantom and real dance upon my skin. The way that Johnny shakes out his hand gives me pause, but he’s having none of that. 

“I’m good, I’m good- Just...Whoa.” 

‘Whoa’ indeed. Fire is natural for me, but Lord Raiden’s gifts… I am unsure of how to describe it. They amplify the powers that I possess, but I am not completely unaware of the nature of these forces combined. This is another thought that loses itself in the hands that had found their way to my chest somewhere along my deliberation, a smirk planted firm on Johnny’s face. I may be a God, but the heat that washes over me is just as I felt it when I was alive. I am alive, death does not feel like this. My hands are hot on his skin, flushed red with delight. He knows what this does to me; and I know what I am going to do about it.

Some things never change.

This makes climbing atop him less an impulse and more an inevitability, though I am mindful of his leg. His current state of undress makes this endeavor a small undertaking, even if he is anything but. And much to my disappointment he has removed his hands from where they are in favor of my pants. Though I cannot stay mad for long with where his hands are. His neck is a sufficient target for my frustrations. 

We try to take our time, but I have mourned him once and he has mourned me twice, all to prepare himself for the unanticipated third time around. I cannot help the way my hands pull him to me anymore than he can help the way that his fingernails dig into my shoulder blades, welts in their wake. Sinking into him ignites a flame that not even my hottest strikes can compare to, and kissing him is just as I remember it. Better in some ways, even. The value of time comes full circle here, and it makes my heart beat without mercy. I know he feels the same, if not for the rapid-fire teasing, then for the hitch of his breath when I bear down upon him.

“Still have it in you, old timer?” He breathes deep through his nose, sweat gathering on his skin. It’s more tantalizing than it has any right to be. But what is Johnny, if not someone known to break the rules of what he can and cannot have. 

“If the ‘it’ is you, then sure thing, turbo.” He grins fiercely, and we are at odds again. If there’s anything else to be said here, it is that Johnny Cage has a talent for pushing just where he needs to for what he wants. I can also say that i shamelessly rise to the task, teeth and tongue to put that mouth to rest. 

One of the most fearsome aspects of godhood is the idea that I could go on for what would be eternity to a human. There is a satisfying ache in my bones, but I feel no real exhaustion, tangled up in him. His scent, that insatiable wit, the sunglasses that catch what little light that enters the room, characterized by their lack of presence on his face. It’s strange to see the man without them. But I find that I do not mind, having spent more time than I could ever bring myself to admit peering behind them. Putting together the pieces of a man with a deceptive wit and a need to be understood for more than an image. A well-crafted one, but an image nonetheless. 

This realization does not ‘hit’ me so much as it spreads. In my heart, in my lungs, in my veins. I see someone I understand. Someone I never had the chance to fully know, but someone I understand. That is what makes it so hard to part from him. Unlike my other self, it is daylight, and I cannot spare him the pain of watching me go. I can tell him that he has done well, that I am proud, and he can scold me for being so formal, something so uniquely Johnny to say. The air is tense, and I know what I must do. We both know  that it’s time.

I had moved to open the portal when he stopped me, resistance keeping me from slipping forward through the time stream. He hasn’t let go of my hand. Nor I of his. 

It seems we are both having trouble here. 

“Liu?” 

“Yes, Johnny?” He looked at me with a fondness that dissolved my tension and I squeezed his hand, my heart beating. 

“Kick the old lizard’s ass for me. Maybe slap baldy on the dome if she’s still up and tickin.” There’s humor in his voice, but I am aware of what this communicates. He is saying “do not forget me.” And how could I ever do such a thing? Johnny Cage is unlike any man I have met, and for this I feel that the blessing was not the gifts which bring me above my mortality, but the chance to meet someone so bright and blinding. There is much room in my heart for him, I have missed him and I cannot find the words to tell him this, I wish I could. But I cannot. I can, however, bring his hand to my lips. His eyes, blue as the dawn of time (I have seen it, felt it. I know now.) are wide. He hadn’t expected that. But even I am known to have the element of surprise every now and again.

“I will tell them who it’s from.” And then we are laughing again. I cannot help but pull him into another kiss. There’s a certain delight in the way his stubble, what little of it there is, scratches my cheeks. This feels less like goodbye, and more like “until we meet again.”

In another time and place, I know that we will. 

#Caged Heat #Liu Kang #Johnny Cage #Aged heat #Dance Break! #ficlets #( Will come up with a fic tag at a later date ) #( Better bring your cobs cause there's some corn up in this shit #my fics

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 5 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene tries to reason out some deep-seated denial, and Peter defends Paul.

           Normally, Paul could spend hours in clothing stores. Tight jeans, platform boots, designer blouses and ascots. Feathery jackets and animal print coats. He’d dressed as wildly as possible from the time he was twelve or thirteen on, saving up every dime to buy new clothes, always hoping they’d be the ticket to feeling—oh, like they did. Like other people must. Confident and swaggering. Gene had been like that from the very start, even though, when he’d met Gene, Gene had been easily forty pounds overweight and was wearing overalls that only emphasized his gut.

           That had been a pretty rude awakening for Paul. He’d realized it wasn’t in looking the part. Confidence was something inherent. Offstage, he couldn’t ever seem to purchase more than small slivers of it. And he didn’t think he could purchase it now (well, on Gene’s dime), in a mid-tier boutique, self-consciously shoving his way through racks of bras. Gene hadn’t told him to pick one up, but he hadn’t had to, either. He’d known he needed one from the start; it kind of hurt to run up stairs without any support, and the nightclub would be fucking awful without a bra, but he’d just kept putting it off. As if this female body would go away if he refused to acknowledge it, like a groupie left to linger in the Coop until morning.

           Speaking of groupies, he was still wondering about the one who’d cursed him. He could sort of remember her face as Suzie had described her, but it was puzzling. The S&M bit had been relatively light, no whips or toys, and she hadn’t come across like a nut. She’d said he’d had her before. That didn’t mean much, either. Especially in certain areas, he’d end up with some of the same groupies again. Sweet Connie, for one—the only girl Paul knew for a fact had fucked every single member of the band, and half its roadies—and there were plenty others. It was almost a wrestling circuit; the girls all knew each other, even if he didn’t know them.

           But what could he really have done to make that girl that mad? He couldn’t remember promising a chick much of anything in several years. Sometimes he’d get a bit sloppy with it, toss the girl some cab fare as he asked her to leave (she’d think he meant it as a tip, and throw it back at him), but he didn’t get off on humiliating them like some guys did. They came with the room, that was all. Stress relief. God knew he’d heard of plenty of rockstars and movie stars who’d Quaalude the hell out of whatever girl (or guy) they wanted. But he’d never done something like that. Fuck, his chicks were actually sober.

It really didn’t add up. Gene was triple the cad than he was, and he still had his dick. Peter and Ace cheated constantly on their wives, but Lydia and Jeanette hadn’t joined forces and sent a sex-changing demon after them. Whatever. He exhaled, taking four bras of slightly different sizes back to the dressing room and trying on each in turn, wishing he’d let the shopgirl help. The clasps were annoying enough that he ended up having to fasten the bras in the front, squashing his chest in the process, then turn the whole thing around just to put it on. The third bra out of the stack seemed to fit the best, a cream-colored underwire one that wasn’t too padded or too heavy on the lace and flowers. It looked okay reflected in the dressing room mirror, if a little stupid, paired with the boxers he was still stubbornly clinging to.

           After another ten minutes or so, he’d also picked out a few pairs of underwear and a pair of fishnet stockings. Another half an hour and he had a fake leather jacket, graphic tee, cut-off jean shorts, and a pair of boots. He didn’t really dig the ensemble in the mirror. More that he didn’t dig the unhappy girl in the mirror any more than he dug the unhappy guy he usually saw there. But maybe he’d look punk enough for CBGB. Would he need more clothes than that, though? On the chance that she didn’t show, or, worse, didn’t reverse the curse? Paul’s stomach churned at the thought. He got another dress, two blouses, heels, and a pair of jeans, deciding he’d write Gene a check for everything once this was all over.

           By the time he headed to check out, Gene was already waiting for him with his own bag of already-paid-for clothes. Paul tried to get a peek—he didn’t think Gene could go believably punk without intense help—but Gene held his two bags closed, pulling out a credit card to cover Paul’s purchases.

           “Hey, that’s not fair. I could use the laugh, show me what you bought.” Aggravating enough to have Gene watch the clerk ring up the bra and underwear.

           “Later.” Gene looked positively amused. Paul grabbed his own bags of clothes as soon as they were paid for, oblivious to the raised eyebrow the clerk threw Gene’s way for not carrying the bags for him.

           “If you won’t show me, don’t expect me to drive you anywhere for lunch.”

           The clerk perked up.

“Your girl’s driving? She’s got you by the balls.”

           “You have no idea,” Gene said.

--

           They ended up going through the McDonald’s drive-thru for lunch without Gene having to divulge any of his purchases. Paul had dug up enough change from the middle console to pay for it, and he was chatting up a storm about CBGB’s semi-resident bands—Blondie, apparently, was a pretty good act—between handfuls of French fries.

           “It doesn’t hold a ton of people, either, so if the groupie’s there, we’ll know pretty quickly. It’s not wall-to-wall like at Studio 54.” Paul shook his head. “Have you gone over there yet, Gene?”

           “Not yet.” He’d meant to. The disco had just opened when they’d gotten off tour. The big stars had already marked it as their territory, people like Mick and Bianca Jagger, Diana Ross, and Liza Minnelli. The prospect of being in their league was its own intoxicant. “Have you?”

           “Yeah, once. Y’know, I saw Andy Warhol there. He said he wanted to paint me.” Even through the food, Paul sounded pleased. “I kinda blew him off, I think he was just trying to come on to me, but hell, it might be fun.”

           “Getting with Warhol?”

           “Getting painted by Warhol. Jesus, Gene.” He paused. “He’s not my type.”

          “You’re not his type, right now.”

          Paul looked a little stung, but didn’t retort for a second or two.

          “What do you care, anyway?”

           Gene stuffed about a third of the burger in his mouth and shrugged.

          “I don’t.”

          “Remember when he did the Marilyn Monroe screen prints? Everyone in my class was trying to make their own versions, and our teacher…”

          Paul kept trailing off about his art magnet high school. Gene was only half-paying attention. Something strange and almost possessive had curdled in the back of his throat. He took a swig of his cup of Coke, but the feeling persisted. Maybe it was the dissonance. Girls worth talking to didn’t dismiss fucking so casually. Paul wasn’t really a girl, sure—well, he was, but—

          “You’re not listening.”

          “I don’t know anything about art, Paul.”

          “You do. You draw. You used to show me your comics. Everybody knows something about art. Everybody knows what they like about it.” Paul exhaled. “Look, you’ve gotta be getting tired of my place. I’ll take you home, meet you at the club tonight?”

          “You really want to do that?”

          “Yeah, of course I wanna go to the club. I’m not losing my whole life because of one groupie.”

          “You’d be okay getting there by yourself?”

          “I—yeah, I’d be okay.”

          “Just take us back to your place.”

          “I’d be fine, really—”

          “No, take us both back.”

          “What, you think I can’t drive over there by myself?”

          “Maybe I like your company, Paul.”

          Paul reached for his soda cup. The edge of his mouth was starting to twitch up.

          “Yeah? Maybe I like yours.”

--

           By the time Paul pulled into the driveway, Gene was feeling a little sluggish. Two Big Macs, French fries, Coke, and most of Paul’s Sprite sat heavy on his stomach. He figured he’d take a nap on Paul’s couch or in his guest bedroom. Maybe play some records after, if that didn’t tear at Paul too much. Maybe get a quick dinner at a restaurant before heading to that nightclub—he almost thought he could talk Paul into it now.

           Paul seemed to have about the same idea. He kicked off the tissue-stuffed heels and headed to his bedroom, leaving the door open. Gene watched him hang up all his purchases before doubling back to the door.

           “I’m gonna sleep for a bit,” Paul called out. “You can turn the T.V. on if you wanna, I don’t care.”

           Gene nodded, and Paul shut the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He shucked off his own shoes and stretched out on the orange velour couch in the living room, feeling weirdly nostalgic. The last time he’d really been at Paul’s place for more than an afternoon, Paul’s place had been his parents’ place. They’d be at the kitchen table, talking about records, bumming their way through Beatles songs on their acoustic guitars, while Paul’s baby niece squalled in the background. He’d never admit it, but he envied the noise in that apartment. The coiled-up tension Paul assured him lay just beneath the surface was something he never saw.

           Paul had rarely gotten past the door of Gene’s house when his mother was around. His mother thought Paul was the Lampwick to his Pinocchio, eagerly leading Gene into a world of sin he’d already partaken in and a world of drugs he’d never touched. Paul’s ego had been sufficiently bruised by the assumption that he never tried to convince her otherwise. But Gene was sort of wondering now. If Paul had been a chick instead of a guy when they met, some mousey, bitchy friend-of-a-friend that played a little guitar and wanted to start a band, would his mother have liked him any better? Would Paul being a Jewish girl, if nothing else, have been enough to save him, her, whatever? Probably not.

           Would he have gone after Paul then?

           Probably.

           Anyway, it didn’t matter. He didn’t plan on going after Paul now. They’d get this reversed soon enough, and once the tour started back again, he’d be up to his neck in Playboy Playmates and groupies, all way easier on the eyes and the wallet and the brain than a girl with a gap tooth and a terminal case of nerves. Yeah. Yeah.

           He watched the cuckoo clock on the wall for a while, the one that Paul had gotten during their last Europe tour, waiting for the bird to pop out from the little hatch. But it, like everything else, seemed to be taking its time. Gene sighed, getting up from the couch and heading for the T.V.—what was on this time of day, anyway? Gunsmoke reruns? The only thing that stopped him from finding out was a knock on the door.

           He opened it without thinking, figuring it was the mailman delivering another of Paul’s occult books. Instead, he was met with Peter, wearing his version of casual—jeans, a vest, a pinstripe shirt, and a handful of necklaces—and a bewildered look.

           “You’re still over here?”

           “How’d you know I was over here?”

           “Ace told me. Where’s Paul?”

           Shit.

           “He’s not in right now.”

           Peter looked him up and down suspiciously.

           “Then are you gonna let me in?”

           Despite himself, Gene’s glance went to the bedroom door almost on automatic. If he could get rid of Peter fast enough, Paul wouldn’t wake up.

           “C’mon,” he said finally. Peter stalked in without hesitation. Gene had half-expected him to take a seat, but he didn’t, looming in the living room like he was certain he was being let out of the loop, without being told.

           “Look, maybe Ace can write off all sorts of shit, but I can’t.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “He won’t see anybody, he won’t talk to anybody. He gets into fucking voodoo. He has you call up Ace for his psychic. Says you’ll make sure Paul calls me back and he doesn’t. But everything’s cool, everything’s great—”

           “Pete—”

           “Something’s the matter. Paul ain’t that kind of a nut! Now, either he lost his mind or you’re pulling one on him, but either way, something’s screwed-up here. I’m not leaving until I talk to him.”

           “You’ll be waiting awhile.”

           “I’ve got time.”

           “Pete, really, he’s gonna be out until pretty late, don’t you think—”

           “No, I don’t. I’m staying. You want me out, call the fucking cops. Get a real nice headline going—"

           The bedroom door creaked open. Peter turned around immediately, Gene following suit. Paul was standing in the doorway, still in that floral dress from earlier that afternoon. Gene bit his lip.

           “It’s you again!” Paul seemed to cave in on himself with every word out of Peter’s mouth, stepping back. “You—I see how this is!”

           “Peter,” Gene started again, “Peter, listen, it isn’t—”

           “You fucking asshole!” Peter grabbed Gene’s arms, oblivious to or maybe just not caring about the weight and height Gene had on him. “How the fuck could you do that to him?!”

           “You’ve got it wrong, I’m not—listen, Pete, I—”

           “You’re fucking his girlfriend! Your best friend! Paulie’s fucking losing it and what do you do, you move in on his girl! Move in on his house! You motherfucking pig!” Pete advanced, or tried to. Gene twisted away his grip, grasping his wrists. Pete yanked himself free easily, stalking forward, forcing Gene back, closer and closer to the wall.

           “Pete, calm down.”

           “I won’t! This ain’t stupid band shit, Gene! This ain’t fucking solos! You got no right to do this!”

           “Stop it.” It was Paul. Gene stared, stunned, as Paul stepped out of the doorway and into the living room, face pale. Peter was watching, too, looking disgusted. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

           “He wouldn’t?” Peter started to laugh. “Baby, he’s done it to every chick that got within three feet of him.”

           “Pete, please.” Paul was biting his lip, breaths hard. “Pete, I’ve gotta tell you, listen—”

           “Don’t,” Gene cut in, but Paul didn’t listen. God only knew why. Gene could tell Paul was scared as hell, even as he stepped between them, taking Peter’s arms. Even Peter had about an inch on him now. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull back. “Don’t do it, you don’t need to.”

           “I’ve got to. Peter, I—” He let go of one of Peter’s arms, pulling down the right shoulder of his dress to expose his tattoo. “I’m... damn it, Peter, you know who I am.”

           Peter’s face contorted.

           “What the hell are you doing? What’s that supposed to prove?”

           “You and me, w-we went on vacation together last year. To Hawaii.”

           “Bullshit, I went with Lydia! I’ve never gone anywhere with you in my life!”

           Paul was staring at Peter like he’d just been slapped, but he kept his grip on Peter’s arm like a lifeline. Gene didn’t know how to help him. Part of him wanted to just go straight between the two of them and scream at Peter to get out of there, never mind the fallout on both sides after. But he didn’t. Instead he just watched as Peter tossed away Paul’s hold like it was nothing at all, shoving him back, hard enough Paul stumbled backwards, hitting his leg on the coffee table. Peter turned to Gene.

           “You think you can do anybody any fucking way, don’t you? Fuck Paul, right? Fuck him and his crazy broad. That’s the way you are. Loyalty don’t even matter to you.”

           “Peter—”

           “Forget it. I’m out of here.”  Peter stalked to the door, shouting as he yanked it open. “Don’t think I won’t tell him what you’ve done! I don’t give a shit if it splits us up!”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #gene simmons x paul stanley #paul stanley #gene simmons #peter criss

[sunshinetrappedinourhearts]

Nathmarc day 10: Medieval AU

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491026/chapters/38890727#workskin I am one day behind aaaaaa but here’s day 10 (on day 11 whoops)! I cheated a little and made it a fairy tale instead of a ‘real’ (?) medieval AU, I hope no one will kick me. 8D @nathmarcnovember

Once upon a time, there was a son of a wealthy storyteller. The boy was always drawing. He dreamt of courageous knights and almighty dragons they had to slay, saving their kingdom’s princesses and princes. His favourite drawings featured the mysterious Knight of Miracles, a legend and figure of hope within their kingdom. This mystical man always appeared when trouble was near and hope was lost, to save the day and banish despair.

One day, years ago when the boy had been out to collect medicine for his sickly sister, he had strayed from the path in the dark forest, and was attacked by evil robbers who wanted to not only claim his belongings, but his being as well, as soon as they found out he was the son of a wealthy family. They had begun to kidnap him, but before they could take him, an unknown man had appeared, saving him from those evildoers, and when he finally spoke to the boy, he had called himself the Knight of Miracles and took him home. As soon as the boy had turned to him to thank him, the man had disappeared. Never again had he seen him, nor had he been able to properly offer him his gratitude.

The storyteller’s boy idolized the Knight of Miracles. To the point that lately, he had been all the boy was drawing. But he was never able to come up with a suspenseful, original story to accompany his drawings. Always, his scenes ended the same, and nothing surprising ever happened. Even though the people were interested in the mysterious Knight, the people found his stories boring. His father was disappointed in him, and he ordered the boy to find a partner to help him improve in the art of storytelling, for drawings were not enough, not in his family. The boy had no choice, or his father would banish him from the family forever.

So the boy organized a contest, in search of a talented hidden writer, whom would be willing to team up with him to create the most amazing and wonderful stories, which he would turn into gigantic prints. He was dreaming of attracting thousands of people to their gatherings.

Many people joined the contest, and stopped by the wealthy family’s mansion to tell their stories. The boy was impressed by none of them, and turned them all down. There was something missing, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Then, one day, some pieces of parchment were delivered to his home, with countless elegant letters written on it. Unfortunately, the storyteller’s son was unable to read, much like almost everyone in the kingdom. So he took the parchment to one of his friends, who was specialized in the art of letters.

He read the story to him, and the boy listened, eyes closed, imagining.

Diary of the Knight of Miracles.

Today I saved the boy of a storyteller’s family. He got lost in the darkest forest, far, far away from the kingdom’s eyes. These paths were filled with evil, robbers, monsters, the creatures of the night. Yet he had still set foot there, all in order to save his sister’s life. Fortunately, the evilness of men had found him first, for if the nightmare creatures had found him, even I would have had trouble rescuing him. But those evildoers, I could handle without any problem. The job was easily done, and I took the boy home safely. His deep ocean eyes are ones that have been glued in my memory, and I find myself unable to forget them. Oh, if only I would be able to see him again… But being the Knight of Miracles comes with a price, and my identity must never become out in the open. Therefore, approaching him is a task I am too shy to accomplish, so dreaming about these ocean eyes is all I can do. And hoping that one day, I will gather the courage to speak to him.

The storyteller’s boy’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he had been listening with his eyes widened. He almost could not believe the Knight of Miracles had written to him, and that the man had been thinking of him, too. It was unthinkable. And oh so wonderful.

His friend turned to him. ‘My friend, there is a note attached to this diary entry. It says that the writer wants to meet you in person, during sunset today, at the hill overlooking the village. I suggest you hurry, Nathaniel, for the sun is already setting of for the horizon.’

There was no need for his friend to tell him to make haste, for the boy had already grabbed his cloak and was running towards the hill, anticipation running through his body as he moved his feet, his hands slightly trembling. The village was already turning quiet, people closing their windows and doors, calling their children inside as they prepared for dinner. The boy, too, was late for his meal, but there were more important matters at hand.

Every step seemed to take hours and hours, and the boy was oh so impatient, but finally, at last, the hill was only a stone’s throw away. A figure loomed close, and the boy felt his nerves immobilizing him more and more.

The person was wearing a long, dark cloak, hiding both his face and body, so the boy had to come closer and get him to turn around. He cleared his throat, his voice slightly trembling as he spoke.

‘Is that you, the Knight of Miracles?’

The figure turned around, and the boy hold his breath. But then, the person took of his hood and looked him in the eye. They were green and big, but slightly familiar, confusing the boy to a certain extent.

‘Huh? Me? I’m not the Knight of Miracles… It’s Marc, you know, the baker’s son across the street. Nobody knows I’d like to be a storyteller, and no one will approve, so I was too afraid to audition for your contest normally. I apologize for doing it the hard way.’

His eyes were innocent, but the boy knew better. A fire ignited within him, a big and angry wall of flame.

‘What? You dare to impersonate the Knight of Miracles? Do you think it is amusing to play with my feelings?’

The innocence did not disappear, and his eyes seemed to widen as the baker’s son spoke again, his voice trembling and wavering slightly as he turned to him. ‘N-no, not at all, I- I, just wanted to enter your contest. I would love to form a storytelling team with you.’

The fire got bigger, a little more and his body would start to burn. The parchment letters in his hands, the boy wanted them gone. ‘After you deceived and betrayed me? Together? Never!’ And gone they were, as he tore them apart, shattering them in one million pieces, they floated away with the wind.

And the boy turned around, his feelings hurt, his heart broken. He did not see the baker’s son fall to his knees as he cried, for he was already walking away from it all.

Hours passed and unbeknownst to the storyteller’s son, the boy he’d turned down had strayed off the path in the dark forest, falling prey to the creatures of the night. Possessing him, they had fed off his pain and sorrows, turning him into a monster.

Just as he was back home, staring at the night sky from his window after dinner, a mysterious figure appeared on his balcony, a familiar red cloak embracing him.

The boy jumped up, sparkles in his eyes, as he opened his window and spoke to the figure.

‘Is that really you, the Knight of Miracles?!’

The figure nodded, a finger against his lips, as he answered quietly, and beckoned him outside.

‘I need you, Nathaniel, someone has fallen prey to the creatures of the night, turned into a monster, it’s heading to the village. He has been calling your name over and over again, I think you’re the only one able to freeze his steps. Please come with me, and aid me on this quest.’

The Knight offered his hand and the storyteller’s son took it, no hesitation, no time, but he was a little afraid, for a scent of foreboding was nagging his heart.

As the Knight took him to the forest, his feelings proved right, because they ran into the baker’s boy, in the darkest disguise. The Knight pushed him closer, though a protective hand on his shoulder, ready for battle must the enemy strike.

‘I think you know what to do, artist boy, please speak from the heart.’

The boy closed his eyes and turned to the other, lost in the shadows, no more light in sight. He held out his hand and looked at him, searching for hope in his now dull green eyes.

‘I apologize, Marc, for the things that I said, for the parchment I’ve destroyed and the pain I have caused. Please let go of the darkness and come back to the light.’

The monsters within him hissed and prepared for attack, yet the boy seemed to be struggling, fighting back. The Knight stepped closer and spoke clearly. ‘Don’t give in, baker’s boy, you have the power to banish them, it is your body, not theirs.’

The storyteller’s son’s heart seem to sink in his chest as he recalled once again the terrible things he had said, offering his hand one more time, looking straight into the other boy’s eyes.

A shimmer of light seemed to return to them, and he moved his hand a little, getting closer to the storyteller’s son. Only a little more and the pact had been made, but the demons inside of him were still protesting. But he pushed and he pushed, tears falling down his face, when finally, finally, the demons made place. The Knight ran after them and slayed them all, while the storyteller’s son and his writer stood together, and their hands joined at last.

It was the beginning of a new and fantastic tale, of a writer and an artist, forming the very best of teams. Their stories were the greatest and their prints breath-taking, gathering thousands of supporters as they started to travel from town to town. Not only their storytelling was a great success, also their friendship was blooming, even into something else.

They fell in love along the way and so in the end, the storyteller’s son had discovered his own Knight of Miracles and this one had really captured his heart.

They lived happily ever after.

#nathmarc november #rainbow tomato #nathmarc #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #nathaniel x marc #marc x nathaniel #au #medieval au #miraculous ladybug #marcthaniel #fanfiction #my stuff

[sebeth]

Crisis On Infinite Earths #1

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

  I loathe reboots. That said, Crisis on Infinite Earths is my all-time favorite “big event” comic book series. The art, the writing, the character moments, the long term-impact - no other “big event” from any company has come close to achieving the levels of success of Crisis.

I re-read this series annually.  And I continue to love it.  Each re-read seems to add more detail to the story.

Let’s dive into DC’s original Multiverse.

We begin with a recap of the creation of the Mutliverse: “In the beginning there was only one. A single black infinitude. But the light grew, and the infinitude shuddered and the darkness finally screamed, as much in pain as in relief. For in that instant, a Multiverse was born. A Multiverse of worlds vibrating and replicating…and a Multiverse that should have been one, became many.”

We switch to Pariah - possibly the most emo, pessimistic character in comics.

“How longer must I suffer for my sins…before I may be spared the witnessing of these horrors?”  - You were an extremely naughty boy if your punishment is to witness death and destruction over and over.

Earth-3, the home of the Crime Syndicate, is in its final death throes.  The Crime Syndicate, despite being villains, are doing their best to halt the destruction.  

Ultraman is fierce in these pages: “I’ve changed the course of mighty oceans, don’t tell me my super-strength can’t save my adopted planet.”

The above-quote proves that while Ultraman may be a villain, he is still a Superman.

Alexander Luthor, the sole super hero on this planet, is also attempting to save the planet.  Alexander witnesses the death of Superwoman. Luthor heads home to spend his final moments with Lois Lane.  

Lois: “Alexander, I think I can die peacefully, knowing I’m with you. But our son is so young. He’s been cheated of living and knowing love. Alex, must he perish too?”

Luthor and Lois send their infant son to Earth-1.   The Luthor baby’s ship is very similar in appearance to the rocket that transported baby Kal-El to earth.

“This is a prototype, large enough for only one. We will die, but our son shall live.”

Power Ring and Ultraman are the final remaining members of the Crime Syndicate. The duo realizes there is nothing left to do.  

Ultraman goes out like a boss: “What I have done all my life.  I fight to the very end!”

Once again proof that, at his core, Ultraman was a Superman.

Lois and Alexander share a final embrace: “Lois, our time together has been all too brief, but you’ve given me a love this old scientist never thought he’d know.”

“And you’ve given me more love than I had any right to expect. My husband. I love you!”

 Luthor’s son lands on the abandoned satellite headquarters of the Justice League.

The Monitor wants the Luthor child.  Good thing Alexander sent him to Earth-1 instead of letting him die on Earth-3.

The Monitor sends the Harbinger to assemble his team:  King Solovar of Earth-1′s Gorilla City, Dawnstar from the 30th century, Firebrand from 1940′s Earth 2, Blue Beetle from the Charlton Earth, Psycho-Pirate from present day Earth 2, Arion of Atlantis from 45,000 years ago, and Firestorm and Killer Frost from present day Earth 1.    

An few notes during the search:

The Harbinger duplicate searching for Arion is possessed by a shadowy figure.

Harbinger approaches Roger Hayden, the current Psycho-Pirate, in an asylum: Hayden urges Harbinger to “Find Halstead – the first Psycho-Pirate. He was better’n me. He knew how to handle all those emotions…Why don’t you just leave me alone? I don’t want to. You’ll give me those headaches all over again. You don’t know what it’s like, do you? The psycho-pirate affects emotions in others but those emotions hurt me. Please, go away…I’m not well.”

Harbinger slaps the Medusa Mask on Hayden and spirits him out of the institution.

All of Harbinger’s “recruitment” scenes were essentially abductions but the Psycho-Pirate’s is noteworthy because you have a mentally ill man being kidnapped over his protests.

One last note of the recruitment scenes – Firestorm and Killer Frost are enemies. The Psycho-Pirate uses his abilities to cause Killer Frost to fall in love with Firestorm so she will accompany the group: “You feel love now, Killer Frost, don’t you? Love for man, love for earth, and especially love for your enemy.”

Firestorm is uncomfortable with the situation. Me too.

We go to the Monitor’s headquarters where the above-mentioned figures are waiting.  Also in residence are Earth 1′s Geo-Force, Cyborg, Psimon, Doctor Polaris, Green Lantern (John Stewart) along with present day Earth-2′s Superman and Obsidian.  I’m assuming these guys were recruited during “Crisis” tie-in issues.

This is a very odd group. It’s easy to see why some were chosen - Arion, Superman, Green Lantern, and Firestorm are obvious for their power levels, Dawnstar is the best tracker in the DC Universe, and Obsidian’s abilities give him an edge against the Anti-Monitor’s shadow demons.  The others are not so obvious at first glance.  

Monitor ruminates to himself: “Already another Earth has perished and five heroes I needed are gone. Thus I’ve dispatched your replicants to seek out others as replacements.”

We’re never told the name of the Earth or of the five deceased heroes.  There is no editor’s footnote telling us to check out “issue #” so I don’t think it happened in a tie-in.  Crisis happened in the 1980’s and editors were all over footnotes urging you to buy “Issue # of Title X” to discover the full details of an event.

The five deceased heroes remain a mystery – who died and who were the replacements?

I’m fairly confident in stating Dawnstar was an original intended recipient – the depth and scope of her tracking abilities is unique in the DC universe. As for the others…who knows?

The heroes and villains await on the station.  Most are keeping to themselves with a few exceptions. Killer Frost is lovey-dovey with Firestorm much to his dismay. Geo-Force and Cyborg are standing next to each other.

Superman and Obsidian are conversing. Both heroes are from the same Earth. Firebrand is also from Earth 2 but originates in the World War II era: “I know Obsidian. The Squadron recently met him and his friends but Superman looks so old, hardly the Man of Steel I know so well. Well, I guess everybody ages.”

I love Obsidian staying close to Superman. Not only is Clark from Obsidian’s home planet, but Clark began his heroic career shortly before World War II and has worked for decades with Obsidian’s father, the original Green Lantern. It makes logical sense for Obsidian to be glued to Superman’s side.

Psimon attempts a truce with his “dear friends” Cyborg and Geo-Force. Cyborg tells him to shove it.

King Solivar keeps to himself: “The humans stare at me then turn away. My presence here is uncomforting to them. Unlike us apes, they have not yet learned to look beyond the form to the soul that lives inside.”

Solivar’s must be feeling insecure. Dawnstar is from the 31st century and John Stewart is a Green Lantern – diverse life forms are nothing new to them. Superman’s been around the block and seen many unusual life forms. Cyborg has a teammate that can turn into any alien form so I don’t see Victor being phased by a sentient ape.

Psimon warns of an impending attack – cue the shadow demons and a big fight at the Monitor’s base.  A few heroes have a bit of luck against the demons but are on the ropes until the Monitor releases an extremely intense light burst.  

Solivar saves Dawnstar and Dawny responds with “You’re an ape, but you can talk!”

This is the one bit that felt out of character.  Dawnstar wouldn’t be fazed by a talking ape. 31st Century people – she’s seen way more unusual things than a talking ape.

“And now, let me properly introduce myself.  I am…the Monitor.  And I have summoned you here because your universes are about to die!” - What a drama queen!

Final thoughts:

Nice set-up issue.  It achieved what would take 3 to 6 issues in modern times.

Gorgeous art by George Perez.

Pariah is annoying.

I loved that the Crime Syndicate (of all people) went out as heroes.

Harbinger was much more powerful in her debut.  Compare this to the Superman/Batman issue where she’s killed off-panel by a Doomsday clone.

Considering light is the Shadow Demon’s main weakness, I’m surprised the Monitor didn’t recruit the first Dr. Light.  Light is scum but that didn’t stop the Monitor from recruiting Psimon, Killer Frost, the Psycho-Pirate and Doctor Polaris.

I really miss pre-New 52 DC. Firebrand!  All-Star Squadron!  Obsidian!  Older Earth-2 Superman!\

Rest In Peace:

Earth-3

The Crime Syndicate

Alexander Luthor

Lois Lane Luthor

#Crisis On Infinite Earths #Legion Of Super-Heroes #Superman #Crime Syndicate #Dawnstar #Obsidian #Ultraman #Alexander Luthor #Psycho-Pirate #Harbinger #Monitor #Pariah #Firebrand #King Solivar #Cyborg #Psimon #Lois Lane

[delightfully-destructive]

My name is not important

I just need a place to process what's going on, and maybe find someone who's able to help me figure out what's happening to me. I grew up normal. I was adopted when I was really young, but I don't remember it and my adoptive family raised me like their own. They were a strict christian household, but that didn't mean they were bad- just stricter than most of my friends parents. Sometimes that made me jealous- I wasn't allowed to do some of the same things my peers were allowed to do; such as watch certain TV programs on weekdays, or get away with eating dinner without praying as a family first; but that's hardly anything to complain about is it? I love my family, but they were a little overly involved in my life after I graduated and tried controlling me a little too much after I turned 18. I think they just had a hard time letting go. I decided to move out of state to work on my career alone, which was an amazing choice- but ever since I've moved I've noticed a lot of... weird... stuff going on, and I'm not even sure where to start- so I guess I'll start with work. For privacy reasons, I'll leave out my place of work, but it's a retail job, minimum wage, and I've worked there without any problems since I moved here, but last week my manager fired me without any warning. I asked her why, and she was so annoyed that I even asked, she sighed and said "you didn't show up for your shift AGAIN, and your behavior the other day was appalling- you should remember, don't act stupid." I was taken aback by her language. I always behaved professionally and courteously at work- but I must have done something really bad to offend her. I also had NEVER missed a shift or skipped work- the only time I had missed a shift that I could remember was the day I had to get my covid vaccine, but that had been months ago and had been cleared with the manager. It was more trouble to fight the manager than to just accept defeat and find a new shitty job at minimum wage, but I'm still confused to this day what really happened. I don't remember skipping work, or being scheduled, and if I had been why didn't anyone tell me? and as for my "appalling behavior" It had to just be that manager taking some kind of personal offense or something- it had to be a miscommunication right? I thought back and couldn't actually remember if I had even saw her the day before I got fired. I know I went to work, I left at 8am like always, and had my coffee- two creams two sugars- like always, and I was 15 minutes early for my shift, like always, and I smoked back a Marlboro before checking into my shitty little job. And that's all I remember- the rest of the day was a blur. Maybe I was rude? Snappy or dismissive? I didnt think that was enough to get me fired though.... well anyways- I got home from getting fired from my shitty job and I decided to use my new art supplies that I just got from the store. I hadn't even opened the paint stuff yet, so I was really excited to use it, but when I got home and threw my keys on the desk- my paint wasnt there. I searched the whole house up and down and couldn't find the bad from Michael's anywhere. I ended up just giving up and going to bed. It was gone for a few days until this morning. I wake up and notice what's on my desk but several bottles of new paint- but they've all been opened, and maybe tested or used once. is there someone living in my house with me? is it a ghost? maybe theres a demon possessing me? is it possible to sleep paint???? i have NO idea.... I'm starting to get scared, so I'm going to document as much as I can over the next few weeks

#personal #my life #scary #haunted #possession #story time #mine

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

Jaebum x Reader [featuring GOT7 x BTS]  →  angel!au / demon!au Warning: violence, language, & mentions/descriptions of death

→ Masterlist (including teasers) → A/N: chapters are updated every Friday

“The beginning,” Mark started, hand moving to clutch his pocket watch once again, “the beginning was co-existence. There was our Father and there were the angels. Most people know the story of how Lucifer was once one of us. Our Father’s favorite. He was the hope for mankind. Our Father believed he could lead, be the angel the world needed.”

Jaebum’s cold voice interjected, “He was sent to Earth to observe. A mission where Father forbade interaction of any kind. He wanted Lucifer to watch, wanted him to learn from them.”

Jinyoung’s soft voice was next, “But he started...relations with a human woman. It was forbidden. Angels and humans cannot interact in that way. And they cannot fall in love. They especially cannot reproduce.”

Your eyes met Mark’s and he smiled sadly continuing, “Father didn’t approve, even though Lucifer had already impregnated the human woman. But as time passed, with the birth approaching, He slowly changed his mind. A baby was a good thing, a miracle of life. But that was never Lucifer’s main goal. He wanted a child, one born of angel and human blood. A child that could possess magnificent abilities.”

You felt your insides churn, “A child that could rule the Heavens.”

“Exactly,” Mark replied, “Children spawned from an angel and a human would be powerful. Though they wouldn’t be as strong as God himself, he or she could rival the very being that created the world. Lucifer wanted that. Control over his son or daughter which in turn meant control over everything else. When He discovered Lucifer’s plan, He was infuriated. He summoned the Bone Witches, Twin psychics that guard the Veil, to banish him to the circles of Hell. He’s trapped there now, no way out. But his child, Mammon the half demon, can take on a human body. He can wreak havoc on the world with the abilities he must possess. The only problem is he can’t take a body freely. The magic from the Bone Witches provides a protective barrier over the Heavens and over Earth. Mammon needs them both dead so that he can take control of his powers. Lucifer can never escape but his son can end the world.”

“What happened to his mother,” Maria asks.

Jackson’s gaze is cold, “Dead. She died giving birth to that monster.”

You stare at the empty bowl in front of you, processing all the information coming in at once. “The Bone Witches. What are they?”

“Twin psychics, like I mentioned before. They protect the Veil.”

Youngjae speaks up, arms crossing over his chest, “And the Veil is a breach---”

“A breach in the The Void that separates the human world from the world of the dead. It’s a gateway.”

“You know about the Veil,” Jinyoung asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

You shrug, “My grandmother. She’d tell us stories. Before she passed away. Rose and I...we started seeing demons when we were ten. I was always afraid but my sister was the strongest out of us both. Even at such a young age, she’d do what she could to fight them away. She even went as far as to ask our parents for martial arts classes. We were both pretty good at it. But the demon sightings increased as we got older. And at first, we had promised to keep it a secret. We tried our best but they kept showing up, more than ever before. So Rose went to our parents. They didn’t believe us and our grandmother was gone by then. When a demon tried to attack a girl during class, Rose fought it and killed it. But no one else could see besides us so she was instantly labeled crazy. I wanted to be normal, I didn’t want to see them, so when my parents asked if I could...I lied. And they sent Rose to Dymphna Psychiatric Hospital. She stayed there until she died a few days ago.”

It’s quiet after that, not one sound, and it made your heart hurt. You had kept that part of your life a painful secret, even from Maria. There were years you so desperately wanted to forget. 

Trying to ease the apparent tension, Jinyoung gasps quietly, “All of the introductions haven’t been made.”

You meet his eyes, amused, “Introductions?”

Mark laughs, one leg crossing over the other, “I almost forgot you actually have no idea who we are. I’m Mark Tuan. The oldest. Probably the best looking.”

Jackson scoffs and turns towards you, hand extended, “Jackson Wang. Or Jiaer. Whichever you prefer. The bodyguard, the best fighter out of the seven.”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree, “We’ve met, obviously, but I’m Park Jinyoung. The eomma of these six brats.”

Youngjae is next, sweet smile on his face as he bows to you, “I’m Choi Youngjae. I’m usually the one that runs all the errands for my incredibly lazy hyungs.”

The two maknaes lunge forward at once, “I’m BamBam, the most fashionable angel you’ll ever meet.”

“And I’m Kim Yugyeom, the maknae. The innocence.”

"Innocence my ass,” Jaebum gripes. Sending you a quick glance, he’s the last to introduce himself, “Im Jaebum. The leader.”

You stare at them, these seven boys that have so unceremonioiusly burst their way into your life, and suddenly feel so overwhelmed. Like the energy has been sucked from you, you collapse slightly in your seat, Maria darting up to your side in seconds.

“Hey...are you alright?”

You nod slowly, “Just, I’m suddenly really tired.”

“I’ll take you to your room,” Jaebum suddenly says, helping you up. He turns to the others, “Get some rest, all of you. But stay alert and stay close.”

You should be surprised when their wings spread from their backs, the white so stark against the darkness from outside. But you aren’t. And one by one, they disappear into thin air, sending you smiles and promises to see you soon. Jackson is the only one left, moving towards Maria.

“Hyung’s got this covered. How about another drink at Sablo?”

She’s still looking at you, worry etched across her pretty features. You gesture to Jackson and try to stand a little straighter. “Go. I’ll be fine. Like Jackson said, Jaebum is here.”

In the blink of an eye, Jackson’s wings encase them both, and you notice how Maria is also unsurprised. Like she had been waiting for it. You smile amusingly as she clings to him and she frowns, “What?”

Shaking your head, “Nothing. You just look comfortable. Go on. And Jiaer, please take care of her.”

He nods and like the others, is gone before you can inhale. You slump against Jaebum and he helps you to your room. Your sheets are damp, sweat caused from your nightmare about Rose causing you to wrinkle your nose. You look up in surprise as Jaebum laughs and sits you down by the window.

“Sheets?”

You point to the cabinets in the bathroom and watch him strip your bed and replace the sheets. It all seems so normal and for a second, you let your eyes drift shut. When his hand lands on your knee, you open them and see him crouching in front of you, “How able are you to take a shower right now? I don’t think your clean sheets go well with nightmare stench.”

You chuckle, “I can manage. I assume you’ll be right outside the door?”

“Your assumptions are correct.”

You nod and slowly get up, closing the door and shedding your clothes. The hot water glides across skin and your groan quietly at the sensation. Muscles finally tensing, you stretch your arms over your head and roll your neck. You don’t let what happened tonight affect you. You kept your eyes shut and just let everything fall away. When a knock sounds at your door, you peek around the shower curtain and hear Jaebum’s slightly worried voice.

“You didn’t die in there, did you?”

Grinning, you shut off the cooling water and wrap a towel around yourself. Swinging the door open, you almost bump into Mr. Overprotective, arms braced against each side of the door. Seeing you, he sighs and pushes away, “Thank God. I thought something happened.”

“I would’ve yelled.” “The Seven are tricky. They can kill without making any noise at all.”

The Seven.  “The Veil Y/N! Don’t let the Veil break! Don’t let the demons loose! Trust them! The Seven! They will help you.”

“Y/N?”

You turn and see the same worried look on his face, “Something wrong?”

Tightening the hold on your towel, your brows furrow, “The nightmare I had...before. It had Rose in it. We were...making waffles. It was like none of the demon stuff had ever happened. And then suddenly...she was being dragged down into Hell and she yelled to me to trust the Seven. That they’d help me. And then I woke up.”

Jaebum places himself at the edge of your bed, “The Seven. She meant us?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t...Namjoon and the others...they’re the Seven as well?”

He curses silently under his breath, “They are. The Seven of Hell while we’re the Seven of God. But you don’t honestly think Rose meant them?”

Moving towards your dresser, you dig for clothes, “Well considering I was tortured by them, then no, probably not.” 

You don’t know why you’re surprised everytime you hear him laugh but you are. Like you didn’t expect it from someone so serious. You duck into the bathroom and get dressed, exiting a few moments later to see him now by the window. His lips are moving but you can’t make out what he’s saying. You climb under your sheets, letting him finish his conversation. When he’s done, he turns to you, “Father hopes you’re feeling better. He can answer any questions I, myself can’t.”

“You were talking to God just now?”

He smiles, “I was. He wanted to know how you were. I told him you were going to rest. Probably after an intense game of questions and answers.”

“You bet your ass. Now sit. I’ll begin.”

You scoot over, making room for him next you, but he stays planted by the window. Patting the space, you gesture him to come over, even though his eyes are asking if you’re crazy or not. Sighing, you lean against your headboard, “By now, I know I’m safe around you. I also know you’re not going to try and take advantage of me. You’re no longer a stranger Mr. Im so hurry and sit. It’s fucking freezing and you look like you’re warm.”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming. Just stop with the Mr. Im and watch your language. I’m an angel after all.”

You scoff and smile at the instant warmth he provides when his shoulder brushes against yours. Crossing his arms across his chest, “Begin. Question one.”

“You knew Rose?” “I did. After your visit, the one on your birthday, I paid her a visit for the first time. She was...a mess, to put it kindly. She was seeing demons but had no way of fighting them from inside the hospital. Father felt sorry for her. She was the only Bone Witch that was willing to put up a fight. When you declared that night you couldn’t see demons, your powers slowly started to fade away. They faded until they became dormant. And with your abilities hidden, it cloaked you from Namjoon and the others. That’s why they thought Rose was the last.”

You take a deep breath, “When Rose...when she died. She said your name.”

Jaebum leans back, the back of his head hitting the wall, “We were...friends. I cared about her. She must’ve thought saying my name would lead you to me. Maybe she hoped your powers would reawaken.”

He’s a bit silent after that and you wait a minute before your next question.

“How did my powers reawaken? Because I saw Rose that time too. She wouldn’t allow me to die. She yelled at me to wake up and suddenly I’m glowing and golden and I feel like I have the power to crush a skull in my hand.”

“To reawaken dormant powers...one has to almost die. The brink of death shakes the soul of a human. Your abilities sprang back to life because of the torture. Rose was probably trying to keep you awake.”

“Jaebum,” you ask carefully, “did you know Namjoon was going to take me? Did you know he was gonna do that to me? Were you waiting for my powers to reawaken before saving me?”

He doesn’t answer and you know it’s true. You sit there in silence, unsure if you’re angry or not. There had been cuts on you, deep wounds, slices caused by Jimin’s mere gaze upon your skin. You had healed quickly, an ability of yours you guessed, the moment you started to glow. Even though your muscles hurt and you felt like you hadn’t slept in eons, you were fine. In one piece. And you could feel your power running through you, healing what damage was left. 

But you had been tortured. Sent to the very edge of possible death. It could’ve been avoided. They could’ve saved you. Or better yet, none of this needed to happen. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to be a part of this fight. You left it behind, years ago. And now you had been thrust back in it, without consent. 

“You look mad.”

You don’t really want to look at him so you focus on your vanity instead, “I’m a little...you know what? I am. Mad. I was kidnapped. Tortured. Tortured Jaebum. And instead of being saved, you waited until I almost died before saving me. Which, by the way, I saved myself thank you very much. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be a Bone Witch. I want to wake up tomorrow, no powers, and fight the human bad guys. I want to do my job and grab drinks with Maria on the weekend and maybe date sometime in the near future. I don’t want to do this!”

You throw you duvet up in frustration and he just watches you lose your temper. He understands. This was never the road you wanted your life to take. You wanted normalcy. That’s why you lied that night. That’s why Rose got admitted and you continued on into high school and college and eventually the police academy. If you had chosen this, the way she had, your reaction wouldn’t have been anger. 

“Y/N. I know...I know all that. And if there was someone to help us, if Rose was still here, you’d never have to step foot in this fight. But she isn’t. You are the last witch. Your powers are the only thing stopping the world from burning to the ground. We, the Seven, are not as powerful as you are. And even if you walked away from this, Namjoon will hunt you. They will hurt you. They’ll kill you. And I won’t let that happen, I can’t watch it happen.”

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath, “I can protect myself Jaebum.”

“I’m well aware. But this is different. They are strong. They are Lucifer’s Seven for a reason. Let us help you. Let Jackson train you. You’ll be better prepared and when this is all over, you can walk away.”

“And if I’m not alive to do so?”

He’s silent, like he didn’t think of this before. Like he expected you to win and end all this and be alive to live the rest of your life. He climbs out of your bed, pulling the covers up to cover you.

“Sleep. You’ll need it. And when you’re ready, we can take you to Father.”

Fal locks the door behind her, keys hung up and purse on the table before she calls out, “Babe? I’m home!”

It’s strong arms that encase her in seconds, causing a sigh as she lays her head back against a firm chest. A chuckle sounds by her ears, the warm breath welcome as it fans across cold skin.

“You’re home late. Work is keeping my wife from me, I’m not sure how much I enjoy that.”

She lets him sway her back and forth at the foot of the stairs, the stress declining with each passing second. His cheek is against her hair and even though her back is to him, she can see his face clearly in her mind. Her eyes shut and she apologizes, “I know. Cap has been running us back and forth ever since Y/N’s sister passed away. They’ve known each other since college so it’s understandable she wants this case closed and locked away tight. Give it a few more days baby. You’ll have me back at normal functioning hours.”

Namjoon chuckles, grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen, “Having you back for dinner would be nice. I cooked hours ago. But it’s in the oven waiting. And I’m sorry to hear about Y/N’s sister. It must be devastating for her.”

Fal’s unwrapping her dinner, attention on the spaghetti in front of her, “It is. She seems so down. Which makes sense. But she’ll be fine eventually. They haven’t spoken in years, from what I was told, so it’ll hurt for awhile. She’s strong Joonie. She’ll be okay.”

He nods, “I hope so. If there’s anything she needs, you let me know. Anyway I’m exhausted babe. Work was killer for me too. Eat up and then get to bed, I won’t wait forever.”

He sends her a wink as he turns away, causing her to laugh, “Yeah, yeah Mr. Impatient. I’ll be up. Thanks for the food.”

He climbs the stairs casually, hands in pockets as his smile turns to a grimace. He opens his bedroom door to find Jimin sprawled across his pillows.

“Yah. Get the hell off, I sleep there. I don’t know where your filthy body has been.”

He laughs loudly and unreserved, not at all worried about the female down below in the kitchen, “I had a date but it ended up being a bust. So I figured I’d come see what your grand plan is.”

Namjoon meets his gaze, “What grand plan?”

“Oh come on. The grand plan? With your lovely wife? You used your cloaking abilities to get close to her once you started getting ‘weird feelings’ from the precinct. I mean, bravo. The last Bone Witch was working there this entire time so your weird ass feelings actually helped us out. But you’re not like...in love with her. But you’re playing house anyway. You’re using unnecessary magic to keep your actual identity from Fal. I want to know your end game. This is the one part of your life you never discuss. Not even with Jin hyung. So I’m a little curious. Humor me.”

He lies back, arms crossed behind his head. Namjoon is too tired for this. He wasn’t able to dispose of the last witch and got his ass chewed out by Father. Jimin needed to mind his own damn business. 

So he tells him as much.

“Out. Get your rest somewhere else. I’m too tired for your shit and need I remind you, I don’t answer to you. Which means I don’t have to humor you either. I’ve got Fal under control so find another face to suck on. Be ready when I call.”

He bursts into his bathroom and knows when Jimin’s disappeared, he always left behind a smell of lust that hung around for days.

Running his hands through his hair, he takes in a deep breath, bracing his arms on either side of the sink. He can hear Fal moving beneath him, finished eating, and he knew he’d have to compose himself before she sensed something was wrong.

He strips and gets into the shower, the water scalding as it runs over the scars covering his back. He can’t seem to calm his thoughts and on nights like this, he wished he could just close his eyes and fall. 

But he doesn’t have that luxury anymore and when Fal climbs into the shower after him, he uses her to forget instead.

.Great. A date in God knows how long and he stands me up.

Shan cradles her wine glass close, watching for a familiar head of blonde hair. She had met Jimin weeks ago and had been casually seeing each other since then. He had texted her and asked to meet for drinks but he had yet to be seen and she was starting to get a little pissed off.

Downing the rest of her wine, she moves to leave before a voice stops her, “Leaving so soon? I feel as if a night without at least two glasses of wine is a waste.”

Turning, she’s met with probably the most handsome person she’s ever seen. He’s smiling at her, even with his eyes, and she can’t help her breath catching. His dark hair is up and out of the way, suit clinging to every curve of his toned body. Hands in pockets, his head tilts to the side and she suddenly wonders what it’d be like to sink her teeth into the skin of his neck.

Feeling warm suddenly, she avoids his gaze, “If I drink another glass, it’ll just remind me of how screwed up my love life is.”

He hums in agreement, grabbing the seat across her, “Whatever that guy’s name is, he’s an idiot for not showing up.”

Surprised, she leans forward, “Have you been watching me Mr. Stranger? I have to admit, that’s a bit odd. More creepy than anything else.”

He laughs and she decides she wants to hear it several more times. “To avoid being creepy, is it best if I say I wasn’t watching you? Even though you’re entirely too hard to miss?” 

She blushes, “I’m sure there is someone here harder to miss than me.”

“I beg to differ. You’re the most eye catching thing at this bar.”

She smiles, suddenly glad Jimin never came, “Is there a name that goes with that handsome face of yours?”

Hand extending towards her, he bows slightly in his seat, “Jinyoung.”

Taking his hand in hers, she decides maybe another glass of wine won’t be so bad, “Shan. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh the pleasure is all mine. It looks like Heaven was smiling down on me tonight.”

You’re asleep, your questions only half answered. 

Jaebum watches you from his spot at the window, wings spread out comfortably. It was odd, having them back. He had been on Earth for centuries, giving up his wings in order to blend in with the humans, to be more like them. His mission, like Lucifer’s all those eons ago, held the same weight. He couldn’t afford to fuck anything up, not with the world hanging in the balance. 

But Rose.

He had made the same mistake, possibly falling in love with the very psychic that held mankind’s future in her hands. They had grown close in the time spent together, the years her sister thought she was locked up in the hospital. They had fought side by side, she and Jaebum, ridding the world of the very evil it didn’t know existed. It was a secret you couldn’t discover quite yet, the severity too great for your current state.

Jaw clenched, he kept watch over you, your face a mirror of the girl that was now gone from his life. He needed focus, whatever the cost, and banish anything he had once felt. 

Rose was dead. And if he had been in love, he had no time for the heartbreak. He was human once, but with the wings back in their proper place, his mission the most important thing. 

Nothing else mattered. And he’d make sure you were ready for whatever Lucifer threw next.

A/N: So. Both scenes featuring @the-porcelain-doll-xo and @kpopfanfictrash are important for the development of the story. Fal’s especially (Oooooo I wonder what happens next? Lol.) because her ever so lovely husband isn’t what he seems. And okay. Maybe I just really wanted to pair Jinyoung and Shan, don’t you judge me. Until next week. xoxo

#kpoptrashtag #kpoptrashnetwork #got7 #bts #gotbang #the Bone Witch #TBW: Part 5 #im jaebum #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #kunpimook bhuwakul #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #got7 fanfic #bts fanfic #gotbang fanfic #angel!au #demon!au

[thetaekooklibrary]

since 2016 is close to an end, what would you say have been the best/your personal best fics of 2016?

sorry we couldn’t get to this before 2016 ended, but we’re close lol I’ll sort it by admin^^ I’m also gonna put this under a cut because it got super long haha

admin a:

i feel safe in the 5 a.m. light (love in my arms and the sun in my eyes) by JemKay - And Taehyung thinks he’s never loved anyone more in his life than the boy above him who’s a little bit rough and sometimes a bit insensitive and maybe a little bit mean, but he’s also so soft and so gentle, and he treats Taehyung like he’s something so precious to him. And maybe he’s like that because of Taehyung, or maybe it’s because underneath everything, underneath the tough exterior and the sky-high walls, his heart’s more delicate than Taehyung’s, but all Taehyung knows is that Jeongguk fills up all of Taehyung’s vulnerable pieces with parts of himself.

(this was posted 1/3/16 it just barely makes the cut BLESS it’s one of my ultimate faves)

Lucky strike by expplipo - “You’re bad luck, I’m good luck. Two sides of a coin. Head and tails. We match.”

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast by Kavbj - Taehyung has magic in his veins and Jungkook’s determined not to let it kill him.

Only When the Sun Sets by sacramento - Jeon Jeongguk was never meant to handle so much responsibility, but when he sees a vision foretelling the King’s death, he cannot just sit back and let it happen. The ‘right’ thing to do would be to stop it, but as Jeongguk soon discovers, doing the ‘right’ thing is never so simple, or easy. Stuck in between underhanded plots for the Iron Throne, Jeongguk must figure out who he is and what he stands for. He must choose a side, and he must choose well, for in the Game of Thrones, you win… or you die. There is no middle ground.

Toads and Periwinkle by Kavbj - Jungkook’s kinda cursed (like really cursed) and Taehyung’s kinda a witch (like really not a great one but he tries).

I Won’t Fall (in love with you) by taeharem - “You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

Maybe we can be (each other’s company) by foolishbangtan - in which jeongguk is an idol, and taehyung is a dedicated fan account.

All You Hear Is White Noise by minki - To some, the Left Brain/Right Brain concept is a legitimate psychological theory. To others, it is nothing but a wistful myth long outdated by the piles of current research present to prove otherwise. After all, anyone educated enough in the field would laugh at the idea that the left brain and right brain can clash into a conflicting war. To fix the problem, we must separate them from each other.

Cinnamon Crisp by teatimetaemint - Jungkook needs his daily dose of cuddles and Taehyung likes to wear Jungkook’s clothes. They don’t care that alphas and omegas aren’t supposed to be best friends.

Hercules by GinForInk - Taehyung forgets his strength kink until Jungkook picks him up during a group project meeting.

Peep-Toe Stiletto High by EquinoxSolstice - The moment Jungkook found out was when he came back to the dorms earlier than usual and found Taehyung sitting on the floor of his bedroom, a discreet, plain brown box propped open and the tip of a bright, lipstick-red pump already inserted over Taehyung’s left foot. (Sequel)

make this chaos count by aetoms - Taehyung struggles and battles with himself a lot during a three-month break the band is given. Jeongguk is somehow always there despite everything.

Our Red Scarf (Keep Me Warm) by MirreRover - Jeongguk is trouble. Taehyung likes trouble a bit more than he probably should. Just don’t tell Jimin about it.

This Is The First Day Of My Life by internetpistol - “If you want to be with me, you need to be honest with yourself and fucking tell me!” “I’m not good at that, but can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?“

Things You Said at 1 AM by lexwrites - 12:54 AM is Taehyung on Jungkook’s lap, breath hot against his skin in the freezing cold.12:57 AM is messy kisses of teeth and tongue and promises of forever hanging off Jungkook’s tongue.12:59 AM is ‘I love you’s whispered into their skins and Jungkook wants to say more, but he isn’t eloquent until Taehyung is under him, moaning out Jungkook’s name like it’s the only word he’s ever known.

change my world (you’re the sunlight in my universe) by yururin - Jungkook is an artist who likes drawing on the cafe’s freedom wall. Taehyung sees his drawings, and falls in love. Featuring Jimin as the 100% done wingman, Yoongi as the possessive boyfriend, and Seokjin as the sassy mom.

insanity love by waltzformula - Demons weren’t supposed to protect angels, weren’t supposed to give them cloaks, weren’t supposed to leave them flowers and saccharine notes. Demons were supposed to burn. Yet, Taehyung found himself hesitating. Most demons also weren’t the Ninth King of Hell.

admin s:

If I let go of your hand by igasuho - Bittersweet [adjective]:- the quality of pure pleasure and happiness tinged with sadness and pain. Jeon Jungkook was first born in 1670. Twenty years later, he fell in love with a man named Kim Taehyung. Then, helplessly, he fell in love with him hundreds of times after that. Jungkook chases, fights and cries for him, far and wide over endless lifetimes because he loves Taehyung until it hurts, even though Taehyung dies each time they meet, and it is all Jungkook’s fault……you can feel sympathy, but he doesn’t need it. This is his reality.

The Favor by BANGTANbeybe - “I want you to take my virginity.”Taehyung paused with the cheeseburger halfway to his mouth. When he realized that Jungkook wasn’t going to say anything else, he set the burger on his plate with as much careful precision as he would’ve used when handling a bomb. Assuming he’d ever touched a bomb…which, of course, he hadn’t.“Pardon?” he finally said, for lack of anything better. Because he must have misheard. There was no way in hell his best friend’s eighteen-year-old brother had just said those words. Over lunch. In the middle of a diner. With an old, white-haired couple sitting right behind them.

but all your flaws and scars are mine by misanthrpic - taehyung hates the (totally hot) bratty freshman that stole his spot in the art exhibition.

Up or Out by ughugh123 - Up or Out, AKA, be good enough to get promoted or you’re fired.Taehyung has finally entered the prestigious RM LLP, which is infamous for its Up or Out policy. He will be assigned a team for the rest of the year, and he prays he’s not on the same team as that Jungkook or whatever his name is.

Even at the End, If You’re with Me I’m Okay by merelypretty - The years Taehyung spends being confused about Jeongguk’s feelings are years spent pensive, waiting for an explanation to clear away his questions.

this is life in color, today feels like no other by taetastic - With a simple brush of skin, everything around Jeongguk comes to life.

Like A Good Neighbor by AwkwardBeansidhe - Some days, it just hit him a little harder. He missed home. He missed his mom and his room and his dog. Which was how Jeongguk wound up on his upstairs neighbor’s doorstep, with a six pack and a box of dog treats. He tried to take it all in. A fluffy white ball of fur, barking adorably. Bare feet, jeans showing plenty of wear and tear, bright blue t shirt, soft brown tousled hair, and a face that made all his carefully planned introductions fly right out of his brain. “Seoltang, hush. Let me find out who it is.” He looked at Jeongguk expectantly, petting Seoltang calmly. The dog settled into his master’s touch and joined him in staring at Jeongguk. “Uh…” A really smooth introduction. “Hi. I live in 1240, right below you? I’m your neighbor. I heard you have a dog, and I like dogs, so I came to say hello.” Jeongguk held out the dog treats and beer, hoping that would cover any remaining awkwardness.

admin m:

you’re a fantasy (but I’m your destiny) by areumdaums - and maybe when you love with all your might and give everything, he might love you back. (soulmate/hanahaki!crossover au)

i tried playing the superhero, but you were your own villain by galacticyoongi - jungkook promised to protect and save taehyung whenever he needed him, but sometimes one can only try and save themselves (pure word vomit but i love taekook and no one is going to stop me)

Abaddon’s Waltz by eclairdeluxe - Hell hath no fury like a lover scorned.

fray by sebstahn - taehyung is a mess and jeongguk is busy. (or in which taehyung falls asleep to the sound of jeongguk not picking up his phone)

I Told You So by sandirx - taehyung doesn’t speak. ever since that day, he felt he doesn’t deserve to speak “kill yourself, fag.” that’s all it took for him to lose whatever self confidence he had.lose all hope he had for jungkook liking him back. lose his senses. his voice. his will to live. his morality. taehyung wants to be skinnier. prettier. better. fun. enjoyable.he’d do anything for jungkook. including kill himself.including starving himself until there’s nothing but bone. including causing harm to himself, and other people. if it’ll make jungkook, happy, then sure. why not.

sunday, wake up, give me a cigarette by hoesthetic - because no one puts trigger warnings on eggs, bacon and toast.

bones by taegyo - kim taehyung is fat.

Meet Me After Dark by jeonnifer - Taehyung and Jungkook “hate” each other.

Frooty Loopy by 010899x - “We both reached for the last box of Froot Loops and I don’t care that we’re both adults I will fight you” AU aka: in which Taehyung fights Jungkook to the death for a box of artificially flavored and colored loops.

If it means I can see you again, then I don’t know what fear is by beanmon - It was supposed to be fine. Taehyung was supposed to be okay on his own. It was just an apartment viewing. What could go wrong?

oranges and art students by unserene - Jungkook gets his first apartment away from Busan, away from his parents, away from the stress of his earlier life. He soon finds out that his next door neighbor is pretty much out of his fucking mind.

you and me, we’re bumper cars by syugaflake - “The more I try to get to you, the more we crash apart.” After a myriad of mistakes committed in his leather jacket with a cigarette between his teeth, Jungkook finds himself exiled to his aunt’s house in a quiet, faraway town for the summer. Nothing much goes on at the neighbourhood; or so he thinks, until he meets a boy with sunset-coloured hair named Kim Taehyung.

across the universe by dadkook - weddings are supposed to be joyful, but taehyung can’t bring himself to find any joy.

Maybe we can be (each other’s company) by foolishbangtan - in which jeongguk is an idol, and taehyung is a dedicated fan account.

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved by windywolf - no description

admin guk:

You Were My Versaille At Night by seikou - But Jeongguk has learned that the road to love is long —and to heartbreak short.

House of Cards by sugamins - Jungkook is the heir to a mob empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. Taehyung is a rookie sent in to infiltrate by his select team and bring the empire crumbling down.“You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated.”

Comeback Kids by Rix - Taehyung is infuriating and Jungkook’s always been easy to rile up. Which isn’t the best combination, but also isn’t the worst, either. (or: Taekook as hockey fuckboy rivals)

Working Conviction by Rix - How their trust evolves to go from from Jungkook pointing a loaded gun in Taehyung’s face to Taehyung binding Jungkook down and fucking him till he can’t see straight.

Pawn it off by Rix - Jungkook goes to pawn off a couple trinkets and accidentally brings his vibrator as well, thus sacrificing most of his dignity while he’s at it.

fast in my car by aishiteita - “jimin, my instructor is a strapping young lad with relatively good music taste and is fantastic at car karaoke.” studies show that sitting next to someone in very close proximity, for extended periods of time, increases the chances of falling in love.

Can’t keep my hands to myself (no matter how hard I’m trying to) by pxdust - 6:00 | tae hyungWhat are you wearing? or: Taaehyung and Jeongguk starts to sext as a game. Jeongguk will not lose.

Children’s Motrin by taetertot - When Jeongguk’s parents die on his 18th birthday, he decides to take guardianship of his 3 year old brother, Jimin. One year later, he’s slumped on a dirty grocery store tile floor with a 4 year old with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. 13 dollars in his pocket will pay for his cheap bread and eggs, but it won’t pay for cheap bread and eggs and $9.89 Motrin for his little brother’s fever. And he’s not going to let the boy who approached them with lavender hair and golden skin pay for it, no matter how sweet he is.

Hickory by Rix - Jungkook should be focused on winning, but his mind’s stuck on wondering whether or not this Kim Taehyung guy fucks harder than he hits.

maps to you by cosmostasis - There is a dick on his face. There is a big, bold dick drawn onto his face in black permanent marker, and though Jeongguk scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his forehead is red, he only succeeds in smudging it around. He pumps a fistful of soap onto the towel and renews his efforts with twice the vigor. He has hagwon later today, and he’d rather step on Legos than go there like this. Maybe, he thinks, pausing for a second to examine the state of the dick, his parents will allow him to skip just this once. Does this count as a medical emergency? Jeongguk isn’t sure, but his hands are shaky and the towel is shaky and he’s growing more panicked by the second because it won’t come off. He’s going to die. He’s going to die of public humiliation in front of everyone, and then he’s going to come back to life and kill his soulmate, because who the fuck draws a dick on their forehead knowing full well that it’ll show up on someone else, too?

I Can Make You (Cry For Me) by officialmaknae - Being stoned makes you do a lot of things. Like fuck Jeon Jeongguk for instance.

Empty Spaces (Don’t Talk About It)by officialmaknae (1/1 |  E | 32,020)Jeongguk has the habit of reading too much into things, especially when it comes to Taehyung. He isn’t sure how it came to this - but he knows he’s in too deep. (sequel to I Can Make You (Cry For Me))

The Favor by BANGTANbeybe - “I want you to take my virginity.”Taehyung paused with the cheeseburger halfway to his mouth. When he realized that Jungkook wasn’t going to say anything else, he set the burger on his plate with as much careful precision as he would’ve used when handling a bomb. Assuming he’d ever touched a bomb…which, of course, he hadn’t.“Pardon?” he finally said, for lack of anything better. Because he must have misheard. There was no way in hell his best friend’s eighteen-year-old brother had just said those words. Over lunch. In the middle of a diner. With an old, white-haired couple sitting right behind them.

From Tumblr to Lovers by snksloth - jungkook wasn’t sure who followed the other first. he just slowly noticed that an awful lot of notifications came from one blog, and an awful lot of his own reblogs were from that same blog. he never really thought about it, but he also didn’t think he’d ever get a message from the blog either. (aka an internet friends au told entirely through messages and a few phone calls)

#taekook #vkook #taeguk #taeguknet #anonymous #ask rec

[priestothempshighgod-blog]

II Dead Living on Earth

  What is destruction but absolute hate? How can you love some one and destroy them?

    A character in a children’s book has a spirit. Would you destroy such a thing? Why do you hate even cartoon characters? Does God hate those that are already destroyed?

A character in a Soap? A character like Kujo or some character like the woman in Misery by Stephen King or the chainsaw massacre murderer? They are all already destroyed. Anyone like them is destroyed and not even merely dead for the Devil himself would destroy such a one.

Everyone will eventually forget about them entirely. Soon you will not fantasize about them, you will not imagine them, you will not even remember them. Are they not then actually already destroyed. Why do you oppose the destroyed? You are not like God when you do such a thing. He has neither compassion or pity for them, never did and never will. They never were but not. The least you can do is find them boring and ignore them. But it’s okay not to love them. Really it is in both the New Reality and the Old Reality. There is nothing to love or not love there.

The fallen angel with the arrangement with God that allows him to act as the ruler of the dead, why do you hate him? He was a splendid enemy, a captivating horribly tragic angel that died in perfection and great touching beauty in his end though defeated by a mere man not even a saint, but just a man now among the dead but his undoing in the beginning of his end.

When you do such things you are not of God. How can you continue to exist for long and hate the Devil even? What has he done to you? I apologize. But hating anyone shortens your time of existence.

What has he done to me for that matter? He put a man attempting to be a saint through hell on earth and tormented him for years because that man’s demon kept it going with the man believing he was possessed when in the end he was merely oppressed by the Devil who never once entered him. Should I hate him? God told me of his end. Now I cannot.

Even the Devil is history for he could not control reality and now that reality is being destroyed by God even as we speak; tragic how he destroys himself in the last chapter concerning him. It touched God from his first mistake to his final act.

Even that man in hell among the dead that killed him when he realized that what God told him was true, that he had destroyed the Devil; even he loved him. Even the Devil gets what every angel wants in his end; to obey God. But he was an angel. They are all angels so God loves each and every one of them even those that fell? Do not hate; love.

Demons that do evil things, demons that you make yourself that torture your mind and torment you soul your flesh its entire life, even demons others have made that try your faith and annoy you for the longest times, do you hate them? Because that is love and nothing but God has more benefits than love.

You stubbed your toe and swore at God but it was not his fault and it was not mine though I am the Spirit of reality. You should have hated yourself before anyone else. The toe was real, you were real, what you stubbed it on was real; all doing or being the thing they were. You decided to stub your toe. I saw you do it. So did God. It was your fault. Loving others like yourself and forgiving yourself that it may lead to a longer existence on the earth or among the dead afterward. That is love.

The little boy or girl that looked at you and made a face causing you to be conscious of only yourself, why did you hate them. Did you forgive them? That is love? Did you make a friend of them? That is love? Did you marry them? That is love?

The bully that scared you in school, why do you do that to them? They do what bullies do the same as you do what you do. Why would you swear to avenge yourself? Why would you rejoice when someone else beats them up? Do you like being beaten? Did you even give them the fear due them? Why were you so stingy and never gave them what they wanted but threw hate all over them and complained and maligned them and even had them put in jail? Do you like those things? Why did you give them all those things and more? Were you not selfish and hateful?

Give to everyone what they request of you turning the other cheek when they hurt you and giving them opportunity to do it again. Then you have loved them. Be generous for God is more generous than anyone especially those he instructs to be, do and feel like he does. That is undoubtedly love.

The thief that came into your life. Why didn’t you give them what they wanted enough to take such a great risk as to steal it. Why did you put their entire life in dishonor? Why did you injure or even kill them? Would you like that to happen to you or one you love? Then you did not love them either. But if you did none of that and just let them have it, then that was love.

If someone requests something of you or desires to take something of yours give it to them or at least do not begrudge them being, doing, and feeling what they do. You also do that you do. Yes, but when you do not do things like that you do hate yourself even more than you hated them for you promise to shorten your existence and reduce the quality of existence in your environment. Now you know not to do that and that is love.

That is why the Old Reality must be destroyed and the New Reality go on in infinite time without you. Are you going to last in my reality? The Spirit of reality says, “You certainly will not!” for there is no love in what you did if you did the wrong thing and the Spirit of reality forgives you because you are a tragic figure but he must go down to nothing for you in the end.

The one who takes sexual liberty with your sexuality, the one that looks down upon your gender, your sexual orientation if you have one and of that if you have none, the one that beats his spouse, this friend, his acquaintance, a complete stranger to them, the one that who acts sexually improper, molests your child or did you as a child, the one that uses a position of authority to force you or one you know or even heard of to have sex with them, the rapist whether male or female; what about them?

It is only a body.

No it is not. Is it? It was a spiritual thing. It killed your spirit and your ability to trust and love. You died and have never been the same and may never be again. I love you. But that is why I must die for them; to end this reality, my goal and to do all I can to help God create a new reality in its stead by helping all of us, to be, do and feel something to better this one; join us.

Why do you hate so? Your body will die and go back to being fertile soil for something else to grow or ashes that will eventually be thrown away. What is that to you really? It is not your body that counts. It is not even your psychological well being that counts. It is your spirit, your will to survive and to exist even a little bit longer.

Resist them if they have not been given power over you by God. Give them fear if they have been endowed with the ability to generate fear in you. Give and do not be stingy. Then you will be like God, seeming harmless, giving them what they want or better even giving them what they think they want like power over you, your fear and food for their own self-destructive conceit for will it not destroy them eventually? That too is generous and loving.

Why did you hate them and not give them the compassion and pity they deserve as much as you would had you been driven to do such things. They started out even as you started out not doing such things. They chose wrongly and their mistake led to others and finally to this.

Where has your mistake led you? to death and next destruction. Why hasten the day? Forgive them and love them and help them all that you will help them but never think thou art more like God than thou art. That is also love.

The one that shook your baby and left them brain dead or an imbecile for life so that their life was taken from them, and you forgave them. That would be love and that baby’s soul lives in the New Reality today because of it.

Would it have died like you did had it stayed with you much longer? The kind of love you had when you died was not love. Selfish love is selfishness not love. But you forgave them and tried to see to it they got help for their inability to handle their frustrations. That was very loving.

Is it not the same with any murder or any so called accident for there are no such things because someone if not many chose the wrong thing in error or on purpose knowing or not knowing the consequences? It was not an accident. You do not know. God knows but I couldn’t care more. I am the Spirit of reality. Things like this have always gone that way since the moment God started creating the New Reality. It is more and more out of my hands each moment and I am glad for it means I will end.

That man the Sanhedrin sentenced to death that the Roman’s crucified and the modern day people of that nation Israel hate and reject even as their ancestors did in ancient times when the sun refused to shine died. His flesh; bloodied, battered and beaten beyond recognition died and went down to death and in hell his spirit was destroyed, so why do you hate him?

Will you always hate him forever and ever especially if he judges you worthy of only never ending torment if you can stand it? Will that in itself destroy you if nothing else? Would he have been forced to send you back had you loved him and he saw in your eyes how much you love even the likeness that was not him, or that you were him in a difficult situation now and no longer the one that had died before?

Oh, such love! Was there ever any other than the love of Jesus! He is able to judge any sophistication even whether I, the Spirit of reality, is alive or dead at this moment and whether I will be the Spirit of reality when this reality is destroyed or faint to be just another perfected saint, a veritable god like all others of his in the New Reality, a king, the king of my hometown according to God Almighty on the New Earth in the New Reality. Was your love not love though not nearly the love of God.

Yes.

What love is greater? The love of God which raised Jesus of Nazareth from destruction and death in hell. Is that greater, or of equal standing to his love for sinful dead men and women of mankind to allow what he did so they didn’t ever have to die and were eligible for the New Reality?

Who knows? Jesus does. The Father does. The Holy Spirit does. God does. Almighty God does. But I do not. I need not know. I shall not judge a God over another God or what one Person of God does over what the others of God do or even what the gods do. I do what it is that I do. That is what is real. That is what reality says to me, the Spirit of reality.

But this I know: Love is serving another one’s benefit without regard for the consequences of what it will cost the servant up to and including one’s own destruction and of course losing one’s part time status as the Spirit of reality; all else is not God’s love entirely .

How much like God am I? Not much. How much do you want to be like God? That is up to you. Let us hope to be a god in God full time at our end if there is an ending and I do not believe there is an ending for those who may yet have even a slim chance to live but I promise you, all of you, any of you, or you personally I will never give up hope for I have decided; to hope.

That all of you the dead, angels included have taught me in this Old Reality and I hope to bring that with me to the New Reality if it winds up no more than a wish I shall not dare pray. But let us not take anything from this Old Reality that will even tarnish the perfect luster of the New Reality; if you then you, if me them me gladly so.

That is love. Let us love wherever we are regardless of where that is that we may live if alive, or when reborn, or that we exist as nearly living as possible for not only a longer time in death but with an ever greater quality of existence in our environment if not in the New Reality then in an ever persisting old one.