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yourwildsimp · 3 years

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Typically

This makes many references to No Regrets (an insight on Levi before he enrolled in the Scouts.) I also tried a new writing style, so please, give me feedback!

includes: Erwin, Levi

warnings: alcoholic themes, depression, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions

length: 2,028 words

•°•°•°•

Erwin Smith was typically content in his mattress by 10:30, praying to whatever gods that may (or may not) be out there that his slumber would be blissful and refreshing. He typically knew of his subordinates' locations and their relative mental states this late into any given night. He typically had most of his paperwork signed and stacked into a neat, organized pile.

Though tonight, as trepidation rolled over him in slow, progressing waves, Erwin Smith was neither content nor situated in a well-put-together office. He did not know where the Captain was or when the elusive man would return. He did not know beforehand that multiple contracts would need the Captain's signature. Hell, Erwin did not know if Levi could even write in cursive. At the moment, he did not know a lot of things.

Erwin wasn't exactly enthusiastic about experiencing these feelings of troubling uncertainty.

The dense thud of staggering boots on the half-rotted wooden flooring impeded Erwin's vexing thoughts. Moving from his spot by the window that overlooked the training grounds, he hastily stalked towards his office door. Yet as his fingertips were mere inches from the handle, the door slammed open, catching the Commander off guard.

Erwin back-stepped as no one other than Levi himself lost his footing from kicking the door open. The door frame was the only thing that aided Levi's attempt at steadying his balance; Erwin was far too focused on darting his bewildered eyes over Levi's condition.

Was the blunt and foul-mouthed Levi Ackerman. . . Drunk?

No, that couldn't be right. The man despised everything about alcohol: the lasting effects, the heavy smell, the noxious health problems. Every time the Corps tried to get Levi to drink, he had remarked about booze being nothing more than poison marketed as a miracle tonic. But, what else could explain the unfocused eyes that were typically sharp and observant or the swaying small frame that was typically nimble and composed?

"Have you been drinking, Levi? You look terrible."

The vicious scowl Erwin received told him that the way he worded his concern was extremely misinterpreted.

"Oh, fuck you, jackass. Not everyone can look like a shining star, Smith." Levi's words were unnaturally slurred, further proving what Erwin refused to accept. "Get outta my way and let me in."

Erwin cautiously stepped to the side- as he'd rather keep this peculiar sight to himself and spare the Captain's dignity. Levi's shoulder shoved against Erwin's bicep as he stumbled into the Commander's office. A snarl remarking Erwin's height was woven into the tense atmosphere of the room.

"Where have you been?" Erwin asked as he gently shut the door, keeping an apprehensive gaze on Levi.

He simply received a distracted scoff. Erwin took a deep breath before he huffed out of his nose. He watched as Levi fumbled through various unlocked drawers in search of who-knows-what.

"Levi-"

"Where's your Devil's water, Smith?" Erwin narrowed his eyes in confusion before Levi, belligerently, elaborated. "Your liquor, dip-shit. Where have you stashed it?"

Erwin pressed his lips into a thin line before he offered a calculated answer, "I don't hide alcohol in my office." A spiteful string of obscenities left Levi's swollen lips, the drunk balling his fist tight by his sides. "Liar! You're a filthy deceiver, you know that? You're worth less than the shit in the stables! A sleaze bag from the Underground would be more helpful than you!"

Erwin paused, studying Levi like Hange would study a Titan. "Are you okay, Levi?" He knew the question was redundant the moment the words left his lips.

“Fuck!” Levi yelled, tugging on his already loose cravat. “Am I okay? What kind of bullshit question is that? Hell, my uncle used to tell me that life’s like a toilet paper roll; you’re either on a roll or taking shit from some asshole- and you know what? You’re that asshole, Smith!”

"Be careful of the open window, Levi," Erwin warned, as polished and unwavering as ever. His indifference to the slew of insults and profanities made Levi's blood boil.

Erwin only moved closer when the Captain disregarded his warning and continued to near the dangerously open casement. Erwin tuned out the vulgarities that were continuously hurled at him with an intense enmity, the gears clicking together in his head.

There was a chance Levi's destination was through the window- a chance Erwin was not willing to take.

"What are you doing? You're going to fall out," Erwin said more forcefully.

The change in the Commander's tone didn't seem to phase Levi, who was resting his forearms on the window sill. As Levi's weight shifted to his unstable upper body, Erwin could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat, temples, fingertips- everywhere except his chest.

Levi went quiet, his drunken tantrum utterly forgotten as childlike wonder filled his eyes. In the moment of calm after the storm, Erwin couldn't fail to notice that Levi looked so much younger when he wasn't so pent up. The Captain was significantly more demonstrative when he was intoxicated; and may it be good or bad, Erwin was content with Levi seeming mortal.

"He used to hate heights, and she smoked him for it," Levi broke the moment of silence with hardly a whisper. "It was all a game to her."

Erwin's features, which were glazed over with faux insouciant, didn't match the curious gaze he studied Levi with. He stood inert, fearful of scaring Levi into a diligent silence or another aggressive episode. Erwin didn't ask for extensive details, nor did he implore Levi to move away from the window again. He simply waited, having an idea of what was plaguing his inebriated soldier's mind.

"You know, when you found me, we were heading to get a job done," Levi spoke so softly that Erwin felt the need to hold his breath to hear him properly.

The Commander took Levi's brief pause as an opening to speak, despite having nothing to say. "Is that so?"

Levi exhaled something grim; something that nearly sounded like an empty chuckle. "Yeah, Smith, it is."

Levi ignored how Erwin wearily moved closer as he adjusted himself further out of the window. The Captain relished in a twisted feeling of pride knowing that he could make his superior jump to aid him, that he could make the man twitch with such a deep sense of uneasiness- so much so that it shone in his perceptive blue eyes.

"Levi, get away from-"

"He was so nervous for the mission, despite it being so. . . " Levi swayed his hand through the night air, searching for the right word after cutting Erwin, and his concerns, off. "So pointless," is what he settled for.

"It was just a run-through," he huffed out a sigh, "check the brothel for any kids, start trouble if there were. Then, haul ass to the surface to get the brats to somewhere safer. Simple, right?"

Erwin swallowed, his gaze settling on Levi's reflection in the mirror.

"But, something always has to fuck me over," Levi spat with a clenched jaw, capturing the window sill in an iron grip. "Isn't that right?! You simply adore dancing all of your puppets around until they can't take it anymore- but you don't stop, do you?!" Levi screamed at the full moon in the sky.

Erwin sharply exhaled through his nose, Levi swaying side to side like empty ODM gear in the breeze. Levi swore and stretched his fingers out to relieve the tension in them.

"I bumped into a guy whose ego was as big as his body. The bastard was huge and wouldn't let it go." Levi hung his head, the stars bringing back memories he'd rather forget. "I think you were there when we had settled the issue and took off."

Erwin remembers like it happened yesterday. He could never forget the first time he saw Levi fly on the Wings of Revolution; it was enchanting.

Levi outstretched his arm, one foot leaving the floor as he reached to the giant moon glowing against the night sky.

"Levi, you need to stop being heedless, or you'll fall and end up dead!" Erwin finally snapped, his hand darting to grab Levi's. He missed his target, the shorter one moving unexpectedly and making Erwin snatch his pale forearm.

The wind from the chill night ruffled the forgotten paperwork on Erwin's desk, Levi's eerily hollow chuckle overlaying the white noise. Empty steel-gray finally looked into Erwin's ocean blues, heavy-lidded and worn thin.

"Don't you know I'm stupid? The hell does 'heedless' mean, blondie?" Levi wore a painful grin.

Erwin furrowed his brow in worry, loosening his grip but not letting go. "Careless," he said gently, thumbing fondly at Levi's flushed skin. "It means. . . Careless."

Levi's bottom lip trembled, and Erwin swore he saw his small body twitch with a hiccup. "Maybe that's what I want, Commander- to end up dead," Levi breathed, sending a cold surge through Erwin.

"Hey, don't say that," Erwin said quickly in a hushed tone. His free hand gently cupped Levi's shoulder.

"Why not?" Levi's voice was so small. It scared Erwin. "Every time I shut my eyes at night, all I see is their faces, hear them call my name." Erwin could feel Levi trembling.

"I know, Levi. By the walls, I know how it feels to begin to go numb. How it is to lose everything close to you, and still need to press onwards," Erwin murmured.

"Oh, sure. You see the face of every comrade that you've sent to death in your dreams. I'm sure you remember each and every soldier." The sarcastic bite in Levi's tone made Erwin unhand the man's arm.

"Excuse me. . ?" Erwin breathed, stupidly hoping he had misheard Levi.

"You don't know how it feels to be looked at like a human shit stain for simply trying to survive! You're just Mr. Fucking Perfect, right?" Levi's fruitless attempt to push Erwin away by his chest only agitated the blonde.

"Another pompous asshole that wouldn't hesitate to judge me from getting on all fours back then just to be able to eat twice a week!" Levi's (false) accusations were making Erwin increasingly angry.

"You're no different than everyone in the Capital-"

"You'd better watch your mouth, Ackerman."

Levi sucked in a short breath so quickly, it made his throat dry up; though, that might've been caused by the snarl of his surname. He didn't get another chance to speak as Erwin loomed over his frame.

"Who gave you an escape route when you had nowhere else to turn? Was it the Capital? Who was it that believed in you when everyone else wanted you to hang? The Capital, perhaps? Apologies, my memory is hazy."

Levi had seen Erwin agitated, seen him berate cadets and superiors alike with no backlash. But the man was always so poised and assured. Sure, the unsettlingly strong fire behind his crystal eyes was never smothered, but it was not once openly expressed.

Until now.

It had Levi- the nephew of Kenny the Ripper, the Captain of the 104th Cadet Corp, Humanity's Strongest Soldier- intimidated enough to shrink in on himself.

"I don't mean to scare you, Levi. I truly don't. But when you have the audacity to lump me into the crowd of discriminatory pedophiles and rapists? After everything I have done for you?" Erwin scoffed, ending his rant.

"I-I... I'm-"

"I don't want you to apologize. It's difficult to believe that you would. It's just not like you," Erwin swallowed thickly as Levi sniffled.

"Levi, I-" Erwin cut himself off, clenching his jaw.

Want you. Need you.

I think I'm in love with you. What a dream it would be to say. But he shouldn't. And he won't.

"You should sober up here while I get work done. How does that sound?" Erwin felt the urge to vomit after those words burned off his tongue.

"Thank you," Levi hardly whispered. "Thank you, Erwin."

Closing his eyes tightly, Erwin nodded, leading Levi to the couch the was sitting against the sidewall.

"Of course, Levi. I would do anything for you."

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angelicichor · 4 years

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Okay, here we go again, hope y’all ready.

Slashers dealing with their S/O having a mental break down pt.2 in which I’m a horrible person and Bubba baby I’m so sorry.

TW: self-degradation, mental trauma, mental break down, depression

Michael Myers (OG):

♦ The very moment the infamous Shape of Haddonfield had spared your life on that fateful Halloween night you knew that your existence would get a whole lot harder.

♦ You’ve read Doctor Loomis’ book, it created a clear image of this being before you in your head, this devil, who took people’s lives to satisfy some gross urge inside himself, some repressed emotions, some perversion, who knew.

♦ Yet as the man with the devil’s eyes moved into your house and you got to spend time with him, willingly or not, you learned there was more to him than the psychiatrist claimed. It was hard to tell what exactly you saw in him, it might’ve been pure Stockholm syndrome after being forced to stay indoors for a week just after meeting him, but you grew a bond with this murderer.

♦ It clearly wasn’t love, but rather adoration, maybe friendship, it was impossible to decide, really, somehow you doubted there was a title for what you two had, so you just decided to call it a voluntary hostage situation.

♦ It was stupid and Michael just sighed heavily through his mask when you’ve told him about the name, but it was SOMETHING.

♦ And you needed a lot of somethings to deal with him, with who he was and what hiding you at your place made you.

♦ You’ve suffered sleepless nights because of it, all too aware what was going on when Michael was gone, noticing all the missing knives, the axe from your shed, the rope, even the blade from your lawnmower. You’d stand up in the morning only to find his bloody coveralls on the top of your dark clothing, ready for washing, while he was walking around in your ex’s pants.

♦ But even though your mind told you of all the atrocities this man committed, you couldn’t pull away from him. Something keeping you in place and you feared it was the anxious awareness that if you betrayed him, he’d know, he’d find you and he’d end you in a heart beat.

♦ Each day your sane mind told you to call the police and get under witness protection, get away from this soulless monster, start anew and once you’re old and already satisfied with the life you’ve led, you can write a book about it and live the rest of your days in luxury from your sales.

♦ But it wasn’t that easy, because the twisted part of your self was attracted to this now familiar danger. His body, his touch and his voice, only sounding for you, dark and raspy, making you tremble whenever he called out your name.

♦ You craved his dark affection, his toxic touch and those piercing eyes gazing into you with a primal possessiveness to them. He had marked you his way too many times.

♦ And within the walls of the house you used to feel at home in you felt lost, starring into the pool of red beneath your feet, still shuddering from what happened, your gut clenching at the realization that it had been the second time, too.

♦ He killed someone in front of you.

♦ Yet this time you felt nothing, an empty, raging void sucking your heart in, as you zoned out of everything, not even able to think, an empty husk.

♦ There was some distant sensation, something dark pulling forward, a part of you tried to push it away, but it was weak and as you heard the floor boards behind you creak, it lost.

♦ “Michael… Can you… kill me?” you asked, voice devoid of emotion, cold and distant, lost, without purpose and sitting before a window you didn’t notice his reaction, the way his body stuttered, head tilting and brows furrowing under the mask. He never had it in him to take it off in front of you for longer than a minute.

♦ And you noticed it starring back at you, unmoving and that brought a tired half-smile towards your pale face, a breath of a broken laugh leaving your chest, but not mouth, giving your body a single shake.

♦ Of course he wouldn’t take it off, why would he, for some stupid play thing like you? You were too stupid to even understand why he wore it in the first place, with his looks he could have anyone he wanted, but he settled for you, why? You were pretty sure it was only because you hadn’t annoyed him that much when he tried to kill you, he just thought you were simple and stupid, perfect to use and throw away once he got bored, but now you wished so hard that he’d get it over with and move on.

♦ “Michael, I’m tired.” you murmured, and if listening to your words your brain let the wave of exhaustion wash over your face, body and soul, letting that one feeling go, your hands grasping at your hair, again blind to the twitch in his hands.

♦ “I’m grateful that you let me live then and… I adore you in a way I guess, though don’t ask me why, I don’t really understand myself.” you didn’t see him, but heard his footsteps, coming closer, but slowly, almost hesitantly. But you were sure he was just mocking you for being weak in front of him, drawing out your anxiety, the other feeling that slipped through the iron curtain your mind had set.

♦ “I just can’t handle it anymore, I know I’m pathetic, a coward, but I’ve been bearing with your… tendencies for so long… I’ve accepted you because there’s some fucked up part of me that wants to be with you but… I can’t handle being your toy, Michael… not anymore. I have feelings, too many of them, and they just… “ you didn’t get to finish, as The Shape pulled at your shoulder harshly towards him.

♦ His throat clenched when you didn’t even make a sound, your tired, blank stare welcoming him instead. “Please, Michael. I can’t risk everything for someone who can never care for me.“ you spoke still, the darkness in your heart leaking, drop by drop, filling you to the brim as you smiled still, letting tears run down your cheeks. And at the angle he held you at you couldn’t even see the anger his eyes conveyed, but you could sense it. “I know this isn’t your fault.” And all too suddenly it was gone. “But I need you to let me go now. You’ll find someone better, prettier, maybe smart enough to give you enough stability to take get rid of this mask… Because god, you know I’m just a dumb little thing.” you huffed a laughter and yet he was still, unmoved, just like he always was, so you risked it, grabbing his hand and pushing your neck into it, anger overtaking your eyes. “Just fucking finish the job, Myers.” you cried, closing your eyes the moment his fingers tightened around you neck, squeezing tight.

♦ And the feeling of relief in your gut was just sickening.

♦ Yet as you waited for your pipes to close, for a snap of your neck, for the stinging pain of his knife, nothing came. Instead your head spun with the sudden sensation of both of your cheeks being grabbed, painfully, but almost gently.

♦ You dared to open your eyes and froze instantly.

♦ “No.” Michael spoke from above you, digging his nails into your soft skin, his expression fixed into pure rage and you gulped. “You’re mine.” The growling of his voice made you tremble, eyes tearing up once more, landing on his rough fingers. “And you will be till the day I die.” He pressed his forehead against yours, his blue eye making your very souls shiver as it’s gaze connected with your own, letting you soak in the pure obsessiveness of it’s nature.

♦ And you nodded gently, struggling to catch air, clawing at his dark shirt in a desperate attempt to ground yourself to something, anything.

♦ And for once, Michael reached out to you without the intent to harm, pulling you into his chest and sitting still, letting you steal just of tiny bit of his emotion.

♦ And you whimpered in joy, realizing just how horrible of a person you were.

Bubba Sawyer:

♦ You didn’t mean to scream.

♦ Or at least not at the person you did.

♦ Both Drayton and Nubbins looked at you appalled, as their sweetest family member let his head lower, taking in your words.

♦ This whole day was horrible from the start, you waking up with a headache, no motivation, the old man calling you down to trick you into feeding grandpa, then Nubbins came, insisting on showing you his knife and attempting to cut you with it, much to Drayton’s disapproval.

♦ You’ve been walking around irritated as all hell the whole day, but once dinner rolled on, everything was just too much. Four screaming, kicking people were shoved towards the table and sat down, much to their protest, muted by the duck tape around their heads.

♦ Then Nubbins decided that it would’ve been a great idea to rip the gags off! With a knife! Laughing maniacally through the whole thing and the screams that mixed in with it soon after really didn’t help your migraine, neither did the ceremonial smashing heads in with a hammer, as Drayton missed on purpose to scare the poor, poor girl that was chosen to be first.

♦ And of course somebody had to wiggle out of the rope and hold a knife to your back, not realizing that you could, in fact, defend yourself by grabbing a plate and smashing it in his face.

♦ Then there was that chainsaw, oh, it was family, alright.

♦ Family of loud, annoying noises swearing to rip your poor brain to shreds, because there were no pain killers ANYWHERE in the house, of course there wouldn’t be! Drayton took them almost every day to ease his back pains, even though everybody knew damn well he was just tense and needed to find somebody to massage him, because neither you nor Nubbins would do it and Bubba… was a wild card.

♦ The poor boy.

♦ He just caught you at your worst moment, when you were about to tip over, having noticed that you were agitated the whole day and babbling to you in his sweet, darling voice, asking if you wan”ted to go rest.

♦ And that high pitched series of noises was enough for you to raise your voice.

♦ “CAN’T YOU FUCKING SHUT UP?!” You shrieked, not even pointing the complaint at him, but with the whole situation, it landed right at his heart.

♦ And you were god damn heart broken the moment you realized what you’ve just done.

♦ “Oh no…” he shook slightly, eyes focused on the ground as you stood up from your chair and fretted towards him. “Bubba, baby, I’m so sorry I-I didn’t…” you started, reaching out towards his masked face, but his sudden hold on your hands stopped you, making you look up at him in worry.

♦ He was pouting, but in that way that let you know he was angry and this time it was your turn to hang your head, pure shame flooding your heart.

♦ Bubba’s big, meaty and incredibly warm hand shifted to somehow fit into yours and with annoyed grumbles he pulled you to follow him and you did, ignoring Nubbins singing about you being in trouble.

♦ The big man brought you to your shared room and lightly pushed you onto the bed, making you exhaust a small huff as you hit the springy mattress. You sat up and to your shock you found Bubba kneeling down in front of you, lips still pouting, but head forcing it’s way onto your lap with a dissatisfied whine.

♦ You immediately started stroking his head, giving him small kisses in the process, calming him down as you explained your day to him, hoping he could forgive you.

♦ And when he took his boots off and climbed on the bed with you, pulling your small frame into his strong arms, you felt your whole body soften and tears ran down your cheeks, your whole being getting pulled into the worst crying fit you’ve ever had, even as a baby.

♦ And being the sweetheart that he was, Bubba was soon joining you in your messy love confessions and needy attempts at cuddling, which just ended with you sitting up, legs wrapped around each other’s waists (which was mostly just Bubba’s body making your disappear, like a true magician) and falling into a fit of crying, kisses and mumbling.

♦ When Drayton finally came to check on you, you were both asleep, eyes red from all the crying, but grinning like damned fools even while deep in dreams, hugging as much of each other as you could.

♦ And somehow three hours later your migraine was just a thing of the past, your new found motivation leading you to stand up and make everybody a tray of cookies.

♦ They deserved it, those beautiful bastards.

#michael myers x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #virgo writes #halloween #texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #michael myers #break down #I AM A DAMNED FOOL #AND THIS TOOK SO LONG BC I'VE BEEN DISTRACTED BY WONDERFUL PEOPLE #Bubba is baby ok #and mikey is bastard #angst #fluff #angst to fluff

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izvorposts · 4 years

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Random Thoughts SnK 126

Humongous spoilers ahead if you haven’t read chapter 126 yet.

Hello, everyone and welcome to my stream of confusing and often unrelated thoughts.

I loved this chapter, it was a great ride and it was quite emotional for me, to the point I not only teared up, but legit cried a few times. Keep in mind that I also cried to a toilet paper commercial featuring golden retriever puppies playing with the said toilet paper.

For me this chapter was all about sacrificing the personal for the greater good, but let’s start from the beginning.

The panel where Hange says they’d rather just live in the woods with Levi expresses a mere wish; Hange is aware that neither they nor Levi would or could do something like that because they couldn’t live with themselves. The interpretation that Hange started building the cart because they knew Levi wouldn’t accept staying in the woods, is in my opinion, wrong. We’ve seen Hange, we know Hange and they would never abandon their people, no matter how far they’re ready to go for Levi.

When Levi says “What’s left if we run and hide like this?” does not mean rejection. Levi doesn’t speak much, but when he does, he is very direct and clear, he doesn’t speak in ambiguous ways, and had he wanted to reject Hange’s suggestion, he’d have said it very clearly. He knows they can’t stay in the woods and Hange does, too.

The title of the chapter is “Pride” and I think it’s interesting Isayama-san chose that word. Levi admits he fucked up with Zeke; he doesn’t try to pretend he’s feeling better than he is; he’s physically and emotionally hurt, but he doesn’t feel the need to pretend in front of Hange; he lets them see him just as he is - weak. That’s where we see how deeply honest their relationship is - I’m weak AF and I let you see me like that. Even when Hange advises him not to get up, he listens.

Hange, on the other hand, talks to him and confesses something to him while he’s unconscious (well, at least they think he is), yet when they realize he wasn’t, they don’t try to joke about it or pretend they didn’t say it, they blush and leave it at that.

Both let go of their pride and any pretense in front of one another, and their panels in the woods are etched with so much honesty, warmth and love it’s almost unreal. They know each other too well, which we can see in the few thoughts they exchange, yet they say more than they could ever say with words.

The chapter then moves to the two of them meeting Pieck (whose last name I can’t get over) and Magath (whose last name I’m not sure how to pronounce) and I completely agree with momtaku that Levi states that his objective is killing Zeke partially because of the audience. What will happen once they realize that Zeke isn’t the issue anymore, we’ll see.

Fast forward to Connie, who is already breaking in the woods just thinking about his intentions. His determination is faltering and he knows it’s a wrong thing to do. He realizes that Falco is an honest and pure kid, and as one of the last resorts where he seeks support is when he calls Sasha’s name wondering whether she’d understand him.

They do get to Ragako, Connie unveils his ever-smiling mother, his determination seemingly back, but as soon as he sees Armin and Gabi, he tells them to not say anything. Why? Because he knows what he’s doing is wrong and that his decision will easily be overturned by just a few words by Armin.

I love Armin with all my heart, I think he’s precious, but he is also manipulative as fuck and I think he counted on Connie saving him. He risked it, yes, because Connie caught him mid-jump, but part of him counted on it. This isn’t the first time Armin plays to people’s good sides to get something. Another part of him probably wanted to die because of the guilt he feels for having lived instead of Erwin and if I’m right, he sacrifices his escape plan and stays alive for the greater good.

We see Connie do the same thing – he gives up a personal goal, replacing it with saving the world – he leaves his mom, teeth unbrushed and Falco-deprived and goes to eat pie and unite with the rest. Good job, Connie, I’m proud of you, and I’m sure your mom is, too.

By letting Armin, Gabi and Falco see him as a complete lunatic, Connie is also stripped of pride: “Someone righteous like you can’t understand an idiot” Connie says, painting the image of himself devoid of anything fake. He’s not trying to prove he’s doing the right thing, he’s fucking up and he knows it and shows it.

I have no idea what Mikasa intends to do with the scarf she procured from Louise (is she going to burn it, put it on Eren’s voodoo doll and strangle it, who knows?!), but we don’t see her put it back on. Also, she gives up her lifelong obsession of protecting Eren and joins the crew. Go, Mikasa! She’s such a badass. Some more development would be nice, though.

Now we get to Floch and I’m saddened by the fact that I’ll write more about him than I did about the rest, but Floch is important.

Floch is not entertainment. Floch is an instigator and a coward, he is manipulative in a very unrefined way and capable of making masses follow him, not because he is Eren’s self-proclaimed representative, but because he knows what he needs to feed the people with in order for them to follow and support the Yeagerists – blood and fear.

He’s the dude with the gun and shows everyone in chapter 125 what will happen to them not only if they disobey, but also if they say what they think. I believe the modern-day term for this is dictatorship. In this chapter he screams about Yelena and Onyankopon, why they are traitors and why they should be killed (executed publicly at that) and that is the decision he made. He takes the role of God by deciding who lives and who doesn’t and the worst part is, the masses surrounding him show full support.

Floch is the type of person who will establish themselves after everything is over and after they are certain they’re in no immediate or any other danger; then they will find followers, which isn’t too difficult in the state Paradis currently is in. I have actively hated him since he was introduced and I doubt that will change. Not to mention that his and Trump’s hair bear striking resemblance, and that doesn’t really help. Of course, that’s not the only similarity between him and Donald, in my opinion at least.

Floch saying “Dedicate your hearts” made me so sad, the wings of freedom on his uniform – it’s just wrong.

Also, I couldn’t help but notice how the faces of people surrounding him are distorted to the point they almost look inhumane. Or should I say mindless?

I don’t really care about Yelena, but both she and Onyankopon are introduced by Floch as “volunteers who bear a grudge against the Eldian empire” and whose soon-to-happen execution is met with a unanimous support from the spectators. Floch keeps saying how they are finally free, the masses cheer, as if not realizing that this form of governing a country is the exact opposite – yes, free, maybe, from the hatred by the rest of the world, but this is so far from freedom it’s not even funny. Floch is not entertaining, he’s an epitome of danger.

I’m not crazy about the notion of pride, I prefer dignity, as pride in itself holds something that makes a person or a group of people better than the rest, or it plays too much to our ego, and when we see the masses exclaiming how they’re the subjects of Ymir and how they’re the only ones who’ll be left, that to me was pride in its worst notion possible.

Jean killed me when he shot and said “I missed…”. I’m not too happy the bullets didn’t find their way to Floch’s head or vital organs, but Jean not only gives up (for the second time) the possibility of living a cozy life, ergo, sacrifices a personal goal, but chooses the just option. When he mentioned the bones turned to ashes it gave me goosebumps.

I’m not sure where Annie was headed with Hitch in 125, but if she was headed to meet her dad and then gave up on it when she met Armin (Go, Aruani!) and the rest, she, too, gave up a personal goal. Also, the message she leaves to Hitch (“Sorry for being a nuisance”; “Thank you for talking to me for four years”, “From your malicious roommate”) contains something personal and warm. I do hope we get to see more of Hitch.

I’m happy they united and showed that their differences are not surmountable, but non-existent – there are no Paradis Devils and Marleyans, there are those who want to save the world and those who want it to be destroyed (I’m not talking about Eren here per se; yes, he seems uber genocidal, but maybe we’ll get his POV one of these days and see what’s on the bottom).

We saw that all of them were presented with two choices. On one side there was:

- Living in the woods and staying safe

- Saving one’s parent

- Committing suicide as a form of escape from being unable to replace Erwin

- Going after Eren and protecting him

- Living a comfortable life

- Going to see the closest thing to a parent one has

And on the other side was saving the world. And they decided to do that.

I’m a little bit in love with all of them.

#104th squad #snk #snk spoilers 126 #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #hange zoë #connie springer #armin arlert #floch forster #annie leonhardt #jean kirschtien #falco grice #mikasa ackerman

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kegareki · 4 years

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dameamaryllis replied to your post “every time i work a bit on my ‘verse based on chinese BL system...”

Oh, I really like what I've seen of this so far! Would you tell us more about your protagonist and his relationships with these characters? (And am I reading the hints right, that the "light" has some sentience and/or is influencing human thought?)

:D i am always up for talking about my stuff

answers under the cut!

to answer your second question first: yes to both!

in the setting of the story, the vast majority of humans follow the church of the ever-living light. there are some pockets of surviving, older religions, but the church of the ever-living light is pretty much omnipresent.

it’s been in existence for... less than a thousand years, i’d say? with it rising to prominence during a large-scale war. its main tenets haven’t changed much in the years since.

the ‘ever-living light’ is something of a god and something of a transcendence: it’s not exactly a person, but it’s personified. saints of the ever-living light are mortals that have been ‘chosen’ and ‘blessed’ by the ever-living light to carry out its will as listed by the church; they’re generally exceptional and used to increase the church’s influence and advance the church/ever-living light’s agendas.

the ever-living light ‘grants’ holy/light magic to its believers. saints and popes are the most powerful, magically. this magic is exhaustible, however: what the ever-living light gives, it can also take away.

(several saints have died throughout the years because their magic depleted fully at a crucial moment. their deaths, although tragic, were used to reenergise the population and reaffirm their course.)

inspiration about this comes from ‘western fantasy’ settings in system novels--it’s unrealistic to me that an entire species would fall under the umbrella of one religion (i mean... look at Real Humans, lmao). one of the specific ones is the light god arc in “quickly wear the face of the devil”. there’s another specific one, but i. unfortunately do not remember it. r.i.p

the truth of the ever-living light is that, rather than being innately divine like you’d expect a god to be, it lifted itself up to the position of a god and is using faith as fuel to keep itself ‘godly’ in the eyes of mortals. the holy/light magic ‘gifted’ to its followers are portions of its own power, loaned out for as long as the person in question will follow its will, and as a result there’s a sort of ‘link’ between the ever-living light and the mortal that allows for greater influence in the person’s thoughts.

it passes itself off as a kind, compassionate being, but it’s more true that it’s greedy and vicious. it’s enacting a centuries-long campaign to rid the world of demons because it harbors resentment for the species; it doesn’t directly yank back its power from its followers when it realises that they’re straying and instead waits for the most opportune moment.

it wants humanity in good shape basically just to be a robust population to throw at the demons. and, like, honestly? being followed because people love you feels a lot better than being followed because people fear you. love and faith can be turned into swords against your enemies, but if you use fear instead, those swords will be turned on you as soon as they can manage it.

the upper echelons of the church are more or less partners-in-crime with the ever-living light. they’re not a PR tactic/expendable tool like saints are; they’re PR and the hands that wield the tool.

... and, in the ‘original story’, sheng qinghe is absolutely oblivious to all of this!

two of his followers/group members--his childhood friend, sen sizhen, and the scholarly male friend that he makes later on, mo yunxing--are not. i think mo yunxing’s family tends to be church members, and sen sizhen has a unique perspective of “being close with the person cultivated to be a saint while not being valuable herself except as leverage,” so they both end up sort of intuitively grasping that there is danger in sheng qinghe’s position and that it’s imperative that he serve the church of the ever-living light well.

when sheng qinghe questions what they’re doing, they divert his attention so that he stops thinking about it. when he’s staring in silence at the bodies of the demons he’s just felled, they take his arm and lead him away. when sheng qinghe wonders if the violence they’re doing is justified, they’re quick to remind him of all of the atrocities that demons have done.

i had intended sen sizhen to act as sort of a love interest for sheng qinghe, since Girl Childhood Friend is popular for that, but she’s ended up in a sort of older sister role to him, wanting to protect him from things that he doesn’t yet understand--that, under her watch, hopefully he will never understand. she cares about him a lot, but there’s a slowly widening gap between them because she feels like she has to shield him from��‘the cruel reality of the world’. neither she nor mo yunxing think that he is capable of facing that reality.

OH i don’t know if it could be inferred or not, but: sheng qinghe, in his role of a saint, is being used to spearhead “a final war” against demons. that’s why he ends up fighting against the demon king--it’s the “final step” in defeating the demons.

in the ‘original story’, he succeeds. with their backing gone, the rest of the demons soon follow their king to the grave. sheng qinghe is touted as the hero of humanity.

in the fic i’m writing, the main character transmigrates to stop this.

so, for the relationships question:

the main character transmigrates into zhu yixian, a fox spirit who is more or less one of the demon king’s most prominent lackeys. in the original setting, xi youtian had rescued zhu yixian from fur traders when he was a kit and raised him up in the absence of his parents, and in return zhu yixian devoted his life to serving him.

that’s more or less true here, too, but. mc zhu yixian is an entirely different person, so of course things change.

see, the thing about the mc is: they love sheng qinghe, and they think of him as their idiot son, so of course they want to get personally involved in his upbringing so that they can stop him from... (gestures to sheng qinghe forcing down his conscience, again and again, and culminating in literal genocide) that

so here, we have a demon who has more or less been adopted into the demon king’s family ............ more or less adopting in turn a saint of the ever-living light

zhu yixian is, of course, not being upfront with their identity--revealing that they’re a demon would NOT end well at this stage--but they’re kind to sheng qinghe, and they help him out in some situations, and scold him and tell him to think, and sheng qinghe really does end up viewing them as something like an older brother/uncle who’s looking out for him

unlike sen sizhen and mo yunxing, who try to protect sheng qinghe by shielding him from the things that they think/know will hurt him, zhu yixian instead wants to make sheng qinghe think. they don’t want to give sheng qinghe the option of just. closing his eyes and ears to the world. they want him to be better than he would be otherwise

... but, of course, you can’t make anyone do anything. you can only give them the tools with which to make their choice and hope that they make the choice that’s right for them

uhhh, other relationship stuff that i don’t know how to sort:

it’s not uncommon for demons to mix in with humans--they do share the same planet, after all, and even the same continent--so it’s not really strange for zhu yixian to traipse around in human territory. it is a little strange for zhu yixian to cultivate a relationship with a human

xi youtian doesn’t probe about it, though. he doesn’t interfere in his followers’/friends’ personal lives much.

he thinks it’s funny that zhu yixian talks about sheng qinghe like they’re his long-suffering parent, though

xi youtian has three other prominent lackeys; they’re pretty much close as family. one of them is the Mom Friend, who’s warm and likes taking care of people; there’s the Enabler Friend, who is always so down with whatever idea someone has; and there’s the Snark Friend, who has a bad mouth but a good temper. although xi youtian is their king, they’re privileged enough to speak to him as equals

zhu yixian is younger than all of them. although they’re a young adult by the time they meet sheng qinghe, they’re still viewed as the baby of the family

zhu yixian gets indulged A Lot. they can get away with all sorts of things and even be looked at affectionately while they’re being a brat or acting spoiled. on one hand, they’re like “guys! you need to discipline children more!” and on the other hand, they’re like “this is great, actually”

zhu yixian’s original life may not have been the greatest, so like. second childhood with people who love them and will also give them all the hugs they want? talk about relationship security

fox spirits can transform into human form when they reach adolescence. i have a scene written about zhu yixian’s first transformation; they come careening out of the room in one of xi youtian’s childhood robes and happily babbles at xi youtian about how they have hands! and can finally see over the table when sitting!!! and xi youtian laughs a little like “those are what you’re most excited about?” and zhu yixian replies very seriously “i have things to say, and most people don’t listen to tiny foxes who have to stand to see over the table.”

later, Snark Friend is like “huh. i was expecting you to be taller.” and zhu yixian is like “I’M STILL GROWING”

the atmosphere at home is really warm, haha. they all care about each other a lot, and you can feel it

(which is another reason on the ever-increasing list for why things CANNOT go as they did in canon. it’s not just that sheng qinghe’s canon behaviour was wildly out of character as they understood him to be--it’s that they want to preserve the lives of these people.)

zhu yixian thinks sheng qinghe’s friends Are Not That Smart. sheng qinghe doesn’t have to worry about school entrance exams or anything like that, but they’re still a little concerned that stupidity is contagious

sheng qinghe is easily influenced, after all, if canon is anything to go by

sheng qinghe doesn’t really understand what zhu yixian is talking about until his jock friend realises zhu yixian’s identity as not only a demon but one of the hands of the demon king and yells it in the middle of a restaurant and all of sheng qinghe’s friends follow suit in immediately becoming hostile and assuming that he’s been tricking them and zhu yixian, aggrieved, is like “WHAT are you talking about? when did i lie? when did i try to hurt sheng qinghe???” and sheng qinghe is like ... (thinks back over years of interactions) (zhu yixian literally gave their real name) (zhu yixian has helped sheng qinghe and co on more than one occasion, at no benefit to themselves) (My Friends. Might Be Stupid After All.jpg)

that is... all for now, i think

thank you so much for being interested in my stuff <3 <3 <3

#dameamaryllis #keg wrecks #keg writes #this is. a very long reply my gd #i hope that it's. uh. coherent. i don't know how long ive been typing #bl verse

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strangely-constructed-soul · 5 years

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Not My Enemy Chapter IV

Fic Masterlist/ Main Masterlist

Elain

“Checkmate!” Elain squealed as she finally finally beat Az in chess. He chuckled before wincing at the sound of the guards outside the door coming to attention at Elain’s excited cheers. Both of them were quick to quiet and fearful glances were exchanged between the two. One of the soldiers burst in, and with a disapproving glare, he slammed the door shut on his way out.

Elain was so overcome with relief that she wound her arms around Azriel’s neck, and despite everything, she giggled. Azriel tensed before sliding his arms around her waist and placing her on his lap. It was so good to have a friend here, after Tamlin’s insane notion that her sister would find out about his interest in Elain and become jealous. Elain believed that Feyre would be revolted at the notion of her ex-lover and sister together, especially if the way that Tamlin had treated Feyre was anything like the way he was treating Elain.

The past three days of being dragged into the debauchery and malice of Hybern’s affairs in the main hall had finally caught up to Elain. She found her eyelids were beginning to droop and her head becoming too heavy to lift. She fell asleep on a warm, muscular chest and she found that, for the first time in weeks, she felt safe. Even though she knew she was running out of time.

Azriel

Azriel was in deep trouble. He had become far too tempted by the allure that was Elain Archeron in the past days. He was scared of how quickly she’d gotten past his walls and how quickly he’d allowed himself to trust her with every piece of his broken heart. His heart, that she’d somehow managed to both warm and heal and hold in both of her delicate hands.

Azriel resolved that he wouldn’t tell her how he felt, for she was too precious to him to risk losing her. However, it was incredibly difficult to deny the staggering beat of his heart and the longing that he felt when she was asleep like this in his arms. Smoothing her hair with a scarred palm, he allowed sleep to finally grasp his consciousness as well.

Feyre

Feyre hadn’t truly slept in a long time. When she succumbed to the temptress that was slumber, she was bombarded by nightmares, the likes of such she hadn’t had since she was with Tamlin. Tamlin had never once woken up, or at least he’d pretended to be asleep when she hurled her guts up or cried at the memory of her parents dying. He would complain, though, that she had been too loud in sleep the night before. Feyre sighed and got out of bed to make herself some herbal tea.

The second she opened her door, she heard noises coming from down the hall. Rhys’s room. She hesitated, wondering if, perhaps, he had brought someone home. They hadn’t spoken of their kiss in the days since it occured. The tension between them was starting to become unbearable for Feyre, and she longed for the sensation of Rhysand’s full lips on hers.They hadn’t made any promises to each other, nor had they discussed what existed between them. Even still, Feyre didn’t think she could stomach seeing-or hearing-him with someone else.

The noises began again, but they were not the sounds of her- of Rhys in the throes of passion. No, they were the screams of someone in agony.

Rhysand

“Kneel.” Red hair red hair red hair. Blood blood my blood. Get me out save me stop this. Rhys’s mind and heart were racing. A sinister smile flashed across the forefront of his mind. That same smile as she strangled someone else. Golden-brown hair and bloodshot blue-gray eyes. Rhys began screaming and sobbing and tearing at the sheets of his bed. His chest and forehead felt damp. Suddenly, there was a weight on his chest, and he tensed, preparing for the worst. Except nothing happened; the weight on his chest wasn’t hurting him, wasn’t making him uncomfortable. “Rhys? Rhys!” The voice was pleading with him now.

Hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him back into reality.

Hybern

Hybern had Rhysand and the Night gang right where he wanted them. Once Feyre was with Tamlin again, the leader of the Spring gang would help him seize control of the manor that the royal family had once inhabited. Everything was falling into place. Except for Hybern’s greatest fear. No, the prince was dead. There was no possible way he could have survived the destruction that had been wrought upon the city when Tamlin and his father had killed the High Lord and the High Lady of Velaris. Even if tamlin himself had told Hybern that the young prince had not been executed that night.

He called for Azriel to bring his latest reports. Hiring the boy had been a godsend, not that Hybern believed in any god. No, to him, the true god was power, and since he had the most of it, he believed himself to be the most holy.

Azriel dutifully told him news of the movements of the Day gang and the Winter gangs’ spies. None of them, it seemed, were too keen on attempting to penetrate Hybern’s security.

Hybern thanked Azriel and asked him to send a maid to deliver Amarantha’s nighttime ‘tonic’.

“Oh, one last thing,” Hybern beckoned his guard back to his throne in the top floor suite of his hotel.

“Yes, sir?” The young man raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“In two days time, you will be required to either escort Elain Archeron to the lobby or… you will be required to shoot her in the head. Understood?” He searched the man’s face for signs of hesitancy or betrayal. He found neither on his solemn face, but in his eyes… fear.

“Understood, sir. Will that be all?” Azriel’s voice was stiff, almost too stiff but not quite. The silent man didn’t have the demeanour of someone how was disloyal, but Hybern sensed that he was missing something important.

“That’s all.” Hybern pursed his lips at the man’s retreating figure. Once the door was shut, he allowed himself to smirk.

Hybern found that poisoning Amarantha to motivate her was invigorating. And no one suspected anything.

Feyre

Grasping her warm mug in her hands, Feyre listened as Rhys explained what he had told Az to do and what the spy had reported about Elain’s state.

“She’s okay, Feyre.” Feyre nearly collapsed against the counter she was leaning on in relief. A few moments passed in comfortable silence as Rhys poured himself a cup of tea and sat beside her on the counter.

“Are you okay, Rhys?” No answer. “When I heard you earlier, I thought- I thought that maybe there was someone with you,” Rhys’s head whipped around to look at her, eyebrows raising up to his hairline. Feyre continued, “Then I heard you scream. Rhys, I’ve never been that scared in my entire life.” She released a breath.

Rhys shook his head. “I’m not completely okay, Darling. I don’t know if I’ll ever be, but I feel better every day. You have no idea how much you make me want to feel okay. You make me feel alive, more alive than I’ve felt since her. Thank you.”

“You make me feel alive too.” Feyre whispered, warmth spreading through her at the tender look in his eyes. He smiled at her, a real, full smile that made her feel like she was floating.

Feyre reached up to trace his smile and Rhys’s eyes fluttered closed. When they opened, they were half lidded with desire. “Feyre.” He purred, and she surged forward to press her lips against his like she’d longed to since their last kiss, even sooner if she were being honest with herself.

When she slid her tongue along his lower lip, he pulled away, leaving Feyre confused and cold without the warmth of him. “We can’t, Feyre. Not until this is all over. All of this Hybern business. I would like to properly court you, and I can’t do that while Hybern is still ruining this city.” He looked just as disappointed as she did, but Feyre understood. She nodded. He ghosted a lingering kiss over her forehead, causing her to shiver and him to smirk.

Feyre watched Rhys’s retreating figure walk all the way down the hallway until he turned around at his room to murmur, just loud enough for Feyre to hear, “Don’t let the hard days win.”

Despite the horror surrounding her, Feyre fell asleep smiling.

———————————————————————

A/N: I did it! Thank you so much for your paitience, I’ve been struggling with mental health lately, and I finally felt good enough to write. Hopefully everyone liked this chapter, it’s a little less angsty than the last one(whew). 💜

P.S. If anyone gets my bizarre reference to ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ they can be my best friend. :)

Tag list:

@alwaysfullybooked @floatingfaith @tangledraysofsunshine @booklover242 @light-in-the-shadows72 @thefandomhighqueen @mis-lil-red @rowaelinforeverworld @iamaelinashryvergalathnius @l0sts0uls1128 @lightattheend @jasisteih @they-call-me-cuatro @amusedowl @emmejo26 @highladyofthesith @ghostlyrose2 @schmlip-scribble @fourshizzle149

#feysand fanfiction #alternate universe #love #fanfiction #musicalfae #feysand #fanfic #elriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #fluff #angst #gangsters au

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pilica-nevarya · 5 years

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Sometimes a Little push is needed

Heya @minty-ocean ! I’ve been assigned to you in the writing exchange! I really hope that you’ll like it! Your prompts were all interesting and if I hadn’t gotten sick I probably would’ve also wrote a one-shot on the Soulmate AU. I may still will later when I have a bit more time again because I already have some ideas~

Prompt: Kira Hiroto x Haizaki Ryouhei. Maybe how they come to realize they like each other? Or Inazuma Japan trying to set them up, that would be hilarious. Or a soulmate AU omg. Characters: Haizaki Ryouhei, Kira Hiroto, Inazuma Japan What?: One-shot for the @ina11writingexchange Words: 1017

The time has finally come for Inazuma Japan to be decided. Kira Hiroto was confident that he’d be chosen. Of course he would! He’s the God Striker after all! So it was no surprise in the slightest that he was one of the chosen ones. Full of excitement he entered the team’s camp together with the rest when he saw the list of rooms. »Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the God Striker! Why do I have to share my room with THAT guy?!«, he complained for everyone to hear, hearing a ‘hmpf!’ as a response before his roommate spoke up. »You think I want to be roommates with a noodlehead like you?«

The tension between the two was noticed by everyone though Fudou Akio, leaning on the wall smirked. »And they were roommates!... if that ain’t beautiful…« From that point on Fudou was trying to set them up. Little things here and there, like sneaking a penguin into Hiroto’s things or casually mentioning to Haizaki that maybe Hiroto wants to be someone’s God Striker. But none of them were taking the hint and the tension between them grew especially when the news were calling them the God and the Devil of Inazuma Japan. It wouldn’t be Fudou Akio though if he’d give up that easily. Some of the others had already noticed his tries to set them up and decided, now that the issue with Mitsuru was solved, to help him. They made a plan to get them closer. For that Tatsuya suggested making use of Hiroto’s fears.

The weekend before their trip to Russia the team went to an old abandoned amusement park. Nosaka claimed that it was for them to get some clues on Orion because apparently they were hiding some things there. Hikaru obviously confirmed this, as he was involved in the plan as well. At the park Nosaka read out a list of teams of two to go together. Neither Haizaki nor Hiroto was really pleased when they heard their names together but their complaining didn’t help. After all the groups were set they went all on their way. Or rather: Haizaki and Hiroto did. The others were already getting into places. After all… a good scare seemed to be needed to get them to become closer. It started after a while with small things. Hearing weird giggling from the sides and running steps when Hiroto turned around fast. »Oy, Haizaki… did you hear that as well?« »Hear what?« Haizaki looked at him in confusion, causing Hiroto to put on a fake confident smile telling himself that he was just imagining things. »Nothing~.« Haizaki sighed, deciding not to get angry. But Hiroto was more cautious now. Was it really just his imagination? Or were it maybe gho- His train of thoughts came to a sudden stop as he heard something fall over. With a flashlight in hand he turned around but saw nothing except the fallen over bin. Calm down Hiroto… there’s no such thing as ghosts… none of it is real… none… He got closer to Haizaki without noticing it. For a while it was quiet until he heard the sound of metal chains close by together with a deep, sinister laugh. Hiroto screamed and clinged to Haizaki who was focusing on investigating. »What’s your problem?!« »Y-you heard that right?« »It’s just the wind calm down.« »T-that’s not ju-« Hiroto was cut off by a screech out of the darkness and a figure, tall, with glowing red eyes and fog surrounding it started to appear. Both of the boys froze for a moment before Hiroto screamed, grabbed Haizaki’s hand and started to run. They were running for about ten minutes before Hiroto calmed down enough to stop. He was trembling in fear, incredibly pale and eyes widened in shock. »W-we… have to leave! NOW!« »Calm down Hiroto… I’ll go che-« »NO! You stay here!« Haizaki blinked in surprise, not expecting Hiroto to grab him that firmly. Hiroto looked up into Haizaki’s eyes, afraid, help seeking, not putting up the strong face of the God Striker and in this moment the Devil of the Field couldn’t help but think that this guy indeed had a very very cute side to him. He couldn’t stand against this very long and sighed. »Let’s go back, I’ll text our teamchat.« This didn’t have to be said twice. Haizaki texted and then they headed back immediately. Returning to the camp they found the rest of the team playing cards and other things. Not a single person was missing. Tatsuya looked at them, seeing Haizaki having an arm around Hiroto who still was slightly trembling. But he was pretending that he didn’t see. »You took long, are you okay? Did something happen? No one of us found anything.« »We found nothing either.«

They headed to their room and to bed. After a short time Hiroto woke up sweating, absolutely terrified causing Haizaki to come over and calm him down with a hug. After a while Hiroto fell asleep again, cuddling with his roommate feeling safe again. Haizaki kept on watching him for a felt eternity before he fell asleep as well. The next morning Hiroto woke up first and was slightly confused why he was in Haizaki’s arms. The God Striker looked at him, remembering what all happened and smiled softly. »I guess you aren’t that bad after all…«

They both decided to not tell the others about what had happened because none of them mentioned anything strange at the meeting they had the next morning about their ‘investigation session’. Of course no clues about Orion were obtained and Hikaru innocently said that they probably already moved everything after he turned his back on them. It would probably still take some time but Haizaki and Hiroto already seemed and felt way closer. When the two of them left to work on another combo-hissatsu the others high-fived and Fudou, after watching this with satisfaction started to grin. »Step one is done. Thank you Tatsuya for this great input. Now… I’m all ears for suggestions for our next action!«

#ina11writingexchange #Hirozaki #hiroto x haizaki #Haizaki Ryouhei #Kira Hiroto #Inazuma Japan #My writing #PS: Yes Tatsuya DOES feel a bit bad lol #Thank you for Hosting it!#It was very fun!

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pipesflowforeverandever · 5 years

Text

Don’t- A Gingie and Snowy Good Omens AU Fanfic

This is a commission from my dear friend and co conspirator @aceofintuition to write us a good ol’ conflict fic of our favorite boys, Gingie and Snowy, in our favorite AU, the Good Omens one. It is, of course, heavily inspired by the relationship Aziraphale and Crowley have, but I tried to do my best to give it enough of a unique spin that the Joeys can call their own.

Thank you so much for commissioning me!!! <3

Times like these were scarce. Moments in the midst of war where the smoke cleared, the earthquakes still, and the debris fell flat. They saw it with Moses once, and it was the only thing to compare. When their eyes locked, there was nothing else that mattered, nothing left in their way. Shameshriel felt his eyes shake in their sockets, and Snowy’s throat closed up like She Herself knew the way he looked at him. Surely, the demon believed, the fact She did not was proof enough that God either knew nothing, or that She simply did not care.

After all, he cared more for the angel than She ever could. That’s why he was his.

“Don’t,” Shameshriel would whisper, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth in these times. The angel with black wings- fallen snow turned to ash- would listen to the other the other and know what this meant. “It’s dangerous,” Snowy could almost see him mouth, “It’s not to be.”

Comprehension is separate from acceptance.

Snowy might have been born in perdition, but even he understood there wasn’t something right about an angel holding himself back. But maybe it was just Shameshriel that wasn’t right. Snowy had seen other celestials; robotic, gloaty fuckers. Not a lick of humility till they pretended they really minded the lady upstairs.

This angel was different.

“Don’t-” today’s ‘don’t’ came from coy lips under hooded eyes, “-Call me that, dear.”

All Snowy had was a snort, snake eyes locked onto golden ones for the brief second the other turned his head. The demon took it in stride whenever he could, these instances of denial. “Or what, Ginger?” he repeated the nickname with a toothy smirk as the redhead with silky, white wings trusted his feathers to be groomed by the miscreant he turned his back to. Snowy could swear that like his name, they were made of light. “What, in the devil’s name, could you possibly do to stop me?”

He wished he could say that about other things.

Unbeknownst to him, his “Ginger angel” had begun to frown in thought. Snowy was almost surprised to have won, for once, until Shameshriel muttered a reply in a voice so pleasant that there had to be a bit of a bastard in it.

“Or we won’t talk this this anymore!” It was emphasized with a flick of the wing tip Snowy had his fingers in, the angel not even glancing back at his affronted face. “No more grooming, dear, no more tea, no more-…more-…”

Snowy’s heart quietly raced. He both loved and feared when Gin couldn’t find what he had to say. It meant he was feeling something that would knock him to the floor.

“…More socializing!” he finally decided upon like the word was bitter on his tongue, both wings stretched behind his back, making the demon fall over so his rough palms caught him on the wooden floorboards. But the feathers soon relaxed with another expression Snowy couldn’t spot from there- regret- but that he could guess. So, he wiped his face with his sleeve, pushed up sunglasses, and laughed.

His mouth tasted like the dust of the angel’s attic, the scent of old books and elderly flowers that Gin insisted didn’t want to take the sunlight of the young in the downstairs windowsills.

“You’re the one that told me, darlin’, that y’ never get a friend to groom your wings up in heaven!”

“Well, I never asked you to do it either!”

Snowy was so sensitive to his angel- his every subtle shift in tone, body language, expression- the change in his voice and what it could mean. There was something to this in that…bite at the end. Another “don’t.” So his smile faded, and his arm was slowly put limp onto his lap, fingers fidgeting in the anxiety-inducing quiet.

“…It’s…a good name for ya, Gin… ‘Gin.’” The demon spoke more gently than usual- or as the angel would say, more snakelike, especially with this dare of a statement- with his eyes flickering beneath the shades indoors at the silhouette of the person ahead. He liked to think they were friends.

He liked to think they could be, despite things.

At first, Snowy believed it to just be the nature of being a thing crawled out of hell- that he could just…want to tease heavenly beings with no excuse except for the fun that came out of it. But it had been 6000 years, and it turned out there was only one annoying little creature of holy light he kept coming back to play with. Must have been a remnant of who he was before the fall…

…But it was still enough to worry there was evil in it, roots to the rest of his damned essence. That whatever could still connect him and his angel…might just be rotten to the core.

And who was he to drag him down, too?

As he was pondering these thoughts, something was said that raised his pupils and constricted them more.

“I know what it means, you know.”

Snowy gazed ahead, the curve of pale wings lined by the yellow sunlight of the window his angel faced. His own were spread behind him, over the piles of books. Gin said they were old, but Snowy had seen him angry enough the last time he shoved them over “by accident,” and so his own speckled black feathers were cautious in their spread, not so much as disrupting a single page. Shameshriel crossed his arms and rolled his shoulders tight.

“…It’s a demon name, isn’t it?”

Snowy raised a brow. “Beg your pardon?”

“It’s the name I’d have if I was a demon…like you.”

Snowy got up to his feet, eyes wide. He wouldn’t look back- why wouldn’t he look back?-

“Gin-”

“NO!” And the angel shot up too. The demon was accustomed to things escalating quickly, but never quite this fast. It gave Snowy goosebumps that no torture could. “We can’t keep doing this, darling! We CAN’T!”

And those pearly wings were wrapped around as if to protect himself, a finger pointed in the demon’s face with a snarl on his lips.

Tears in his eyes that kept Snowy from doing the same.

“Gin…-“ Snowy tried to call for him again, the word escaping him before he could stop it.

“Don’t!” And the angel threw his palms to his sides, open and begging.

But Snowy had been begging for years.

“DON’T WHAT?!” he finally broke, but still couldn’t feel his teeth sharpen as they did when he wanted to be feared. That never worked on Gin, as much as he would pretend. No, Snowy wanted to be heard. It had been 6000 years, and for what? No. “Don’t…give you what you want?! Be there for you when you want your damn back scratched?! Make sure the delivery man doesn’t forget your paper?! Watch your flowers on vacation?! What in God’s name did GOD EVER DO FOR YOU?!”

And by the time he was finished shouting, his gasps for air still light on his tongue, he realized that once again, the devil in him wanted to speak before his brain could stop it. These were all the smallest of examples, but they conveyed their eternity; Snowy had fallen, and he never would ask Shameshriel to as well just so indulgence was a bit less guilt inducing, but he had always pined for the day Ginger would look back at him from over his shoulder and admit that maybe a world where they couldn’t be friends either did exist, or that they would make it happen even if the apocalypse would come to be. Snowy did give him a demon’s name; he had just begun to say it instead of whispering when he couldn’t hear.

The demon was letting himself fall to a place neither heaven nor hell wanted to be.

Oh no.

Oh no, no no-

Snowy put his hands out, his jaw dropped in fear, but it was already too late. With a grimace and hooded eyes, he witnessed that he had made his angel cry.

“DON’T!”

The redhead quivered inside out till it shook his voice, had his foot stomp the floor, and made his fists close so hard that the shreds of control he had left couldn’t fall. Behind his glasses, Gin’s irises were like sunshine- glittery, magical, and oh so very harsh onto Snowy’s own icy eyes.

“…Please…” his angel pleaded, the window a fiery halo, “Please don’t say you love me…” He shook his head. “You don’t understand! I can’t do it all over again…!”

His brown hands seemed to shine with his angel’s glow, golden on the knuckles as they were frozen midair, reaching and not yet touching, observant but having no idea what he could do. His hands…they felt infected.

But…his voice-

“Again?” he whispered.

-His voice spoke before he touched.

And slowly, the demon felt radiance slide slowly up and down his body, feeling as if Gin’s stare alone could reach right back and drag a fingertip over his skin. It was familiar, somehow, even though he’d never let himself be touched that way- not by an angel.

Almost like his words alone came out to Gingie, too, the ginger tilted his head as if a hand was there to caress it. Should he admit it?

He already did, in Snowy’s eyes. He had loved and lost before- no other way you could get hurt like that in your eyes. Then, that was when a hand really was there to hold him, when Snowy saw his reflection in the tears of his angel’s eyes.

“An…angel?” Snowy guessed. He couldn’t imagine Gin letting a mere human get so close. No one that hardly breathed a few decades could handle the complexity of an angel’s love.

With his pulse racing, Shamashriel nodded.

It stopped entirely when Snowy stopped frowning and began to smirk.

“It’s a good thing, then, I still don’t have a halo to lose.” Snowy blinked, patient, adoration turning his voice thick like syrup. “And I don’t plan on letting y’ lose yours when there’s no reason to.”

The redhead felt his lips part with nothing left to say.

“Not when all you’ve done is love me, too.”

There were precisely two reasons Snowy fell from heaven.

They were the same two reasons that he loved more than God.

And in a distant memory, Shameshriel could still see a blue-eyed angel holding his cheek, affectionately calling him his “Ginger angel” as the third in their romance teased from afar. She was trapped in heaven, not even able to reach as she watched him fall, and then she saw her other angel secretly tumble after.

And even if Snowy didn’t remember, Ginger could never forget.

#batim au #good omens au #ginger drew ale #joey snowy drew #commission #writing commissions #commissions still open btw!

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amidalasmistress · 5 years

Text

All Hell Breaks Loose || Chapter One:

{cr}

pairing; Michael Langdon x fem!Reader

genre/warnings; swearing (for now)

summary; After the death of Michael Langdon, a new antichrist has been born. This time, he’s stronger and the devil grows more and more impatient for the world to swim in hellfire. After Mallory fills Cordelia in on the erased timeline, Cordelia is determined to do things differently. Y/N is born to the same parents as the new antichrist. Will she follow down the path of evil?

a/n; This is more of a series I’ve been thinking of since the finale aired. This is also my first time writing on here so, ey! I hope you all enjoy.

It had been days since Devan’s incident. The three strangers remained in Timothy and Emily’s home. Promising to help the poor child. It’d be an understatement to say that Devan’s parents hadn’t had much sleep since they witnessed their son just moments after he had killed someone. The poor boy was only three-years-old. Yet, he was capable of such evil, both Emily and Timothy’s stomachs turned at the thought.

“Answer it,” Timothy said as Emily’s phone rang. It was probably work but, even then, she was afraid she’d expose what had just happened only a few long days before.

“And say what,” she snapped, turning their attention from Anton LaVey playing a game of Jenga with Devan. “Sorry, I can’t leave my house because my three-year-old son is a fucking murderer?”

Miriam Mead and the other woman who had accompanied the black pope when arriving to their home had made sure to take care of the body that belonged to Devan’s babysitter. They had assured Emily and Timothy that she would be found with no indications that either of the parents, nor their son, were involved in the woman’s death. Although it made them both sick at the idea of covering up a murder, it was hard enough to deal with the fact that their toddler had murdered someone.

“If we don’t say anything at all,” Timothy placed a hand on Emily’s lap. “People are going to grow suspicious. We can’t have that right now. Just call in sick. I’ll do the same.”

“I’m afraid,” Emily gripped onto her husband’s hand tightly out of fear and the unknown future they had ahead of them.

“Me too,” his free hand now caressing her cheek. “But we have to let Devan get the help he needs.”

“Cordelia,” Mallory stormed into the green house where her Supreme was picking some fresh herbs. “I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

Mallory had seen the apocalypse. She thought she had stopped it but, the reports she had come across online proved her wrong. As if killing the antichrist before he hit his peak of power wasn’t enough to stop this all from happening again. She knew the red sky people had shared all over social media was a sign that she had, most indeed, failed her mission. Just when she had accomplished not accidentally slipping up about a timeline that those around her would never see.

“Is something the matter,” Cordelia met the young witch near the entrance to the green house. “Is the Coven alright?” She swiftly glanced behind her to the house to see it unbothered.

“No,” Mallory shook her head, unsure on how to explain everything to Cordelia. “I mean, yes. It’s just really, really important. It can’t wait. Not any longer.”

“Alright,” Cordelia set down the plant and placed a hand gently on Mallory’s back. Leading her back to the house. “Is this something that concerns the girls?”

“No,” Mallory replied, beginning to fidget with her fingers as they head upstairs. “I mean, if this all goes wrong, yes.”

She could hear Cordelia’s breath hitch at the sound of any harm coming to the Coven. Cordelia was like a mother to all of them, including Mallory. In both timelines. Most of the girls there were rejected by their families so, it was great to see Cordelia take them in as if they were her own children. This just meant that Mallory must be very detailed and leave no stone unturned when telling Cordelia of the apocalypse and Michael Langdon.

After explaining everything, Cordelia remained frozen. It had taken Mallory some hours to finish divulging the memories she had hoped to never experience again to her Supreme. She didn’t know what she had done wrong. Why she couldn’t just kill Michael and everything be alright. If she goes back in time again, she wouldn’t survive it. Not now and they had no time to wait. It could be any moment before they met the antichrist 2.0 or Michael reincarnated. Mallory wasn’t sure on whether Michael had just returned or if there’s someone entirely new coming to end the world. Either way, she mentioned the other timeline’s Cordelia to the now Cordelia and how she managed to only anger Michael, prompting him to continue with what he was born to do. Embracing the evil within him rather than dismissing it.

“We mustn’t tell the girls just yet,” Cordelia finally spoke. “We have to find a way to get all of the help we need. First, we must find this new antichrist.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Mallory felt as if she had just betrayed her own mother. “It’s just-“

“There’s no need,” Cordelia quickly came to her side, her hand gently rubbing Mallory’s upper arm to give her warmth. “I understand why you didn’t tell me and that you thought you had prevented the end times from happening once again. I commend you on your strength for keeping that horrifying experience to yourself. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Mallory let a tear escape from how comforting Cordelia was. Especially after what she had just revealed to the Supreme. Yet, she spoke of Mallory’s strength. Sure, Mallory had experienced the worst thing that could happen to the earth and had not been able to share it with anyone in this timeline but, Cordelia having the knowledge of a time unknown to her, as well as the potential end of the Coven, made Mallory feel weak.

“Come,” Cordelia wiped away the tear that fell from her pupil’s eye. “Let’s track this fucker down.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell,” Anton went to the couple as they wrapped up all of the necessary phone calls. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sit you both down to explain what is happening with your son.”

The two shot worrisome looks to one another. They both weren’t sure on whether they wanted to know what was happening or not. All of this was just some bad dream they wanted to escape from. Both parents wished they could go back to being the happy, tired family they were before all of this. Nonetheless, they were going to find out sooner or later. By the way they sat down at the dining table, shows that they have chosen to be educated sooner.

“I know this seems like a lot,” Anton folded his hands in front of him. “But, the young Devan is destined for great things. Greater than any mundane life could give him.”

“Can we skip the small talk,” Emily was impatient the moment she saw her son covered in blood. “Just tell us what the hell is wrong with our son.”

Anton looked to Timothy, who was also growing thin on the line of patience. They needed to know what was happening. They needed to have answers. They needed this knowledge now.

“Okay, no more small talk,” Anton let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to warm the couple before dropping the information. “Your son is the Antichrist. Prophesied to cleanse this world with blood and fire. Replenishing each of our souls with the purity we now lack.”

Emily let out a frantic laugh. Timothy, on the other hand, looked at the man with raging fear. Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It all seemed like some sick joke. Her knowledge of the antichrist was some large man with seven heads and four horseman. Not a toddler.

“I’m sorry,” Emily noticed Anton’s anger rising at her not taking him seriously. “This all just sounds like bullshit. I mean, you can’t expect us to believe that our son is the fucking antichrist.”

“Em,” Timothy slowly grabbed onto his wife’s hand, not taking his eyes off of the pope. “I don’t think he’s joking.”

“Oh, god,” Emily rolled her eyes as she took her hand away, disappointed that Timothy could be so easily fooled. “Stop being so damn gullible, Timmy. This sick fuck expects us to believe that there is such thing as the antichrist and that our son is that creature. You aren’t the devil and neither am I. So, there’s no way he could be the son of ‘Satan’.”

“Our lord works in mysterious ways, Mrs. Campbell,” Anton spoke. “Though we can’t explain for certain how you two humans have conceived our prince but, he is here. Young but, here.”

Before Emily could snap back at him, their doorbell rang. Causing the couple to jump up from their seats. Hearts racing in anticipation and fear of the police being just behind that door. It rang once more before Timothy went to open it.

“Timothy Campbell?” The blonde-haired woman dressed in all black asked, standing in front of two young girls sporting the same dress code.

“Yes,” Timothy looked at the women with puzzlement, this scene seemed too familiar. “Who are you?”

“My name is Cordelia Goode,” the woman reached out a hand for him to shake. “I’m here to seek your company, as well as your wife’s. Is there anyone else here that I should know about?”

“Now isn’t the best time, ma’am,” Timothy stepped outside while quickly closing the door behind him. “Our family is going through a rough-“

“It’s rather important,” Mallory spoke from behind Cordelia. “Please, we are running low on time.”

For what ever reason these women were there, Timothy knew he must keep the conversation from Anton. Something burned in his stomach, telling him that these women were here about his son. Yet, they weren’t the police nor believers in Satan, he hoped.

3 years later…

“Y/N? It’s time to wake up sweetheart,” Emily spoke just before opening the door to her daughter’s room. “Y/N?”

Emily gasped at the sight of a grown woman sleeping in the toddler bed that had belonged to her daughter. The woman’s body crammed within the small bed frame. Though, this wasn’t an unfamiliar scene, she wasn’t expecting it. Her son, Devan, also hit a massive growth spurt overnight. The night she and her husband had begun trying for another child under the counsel of Cordelia and her witches. Devan, now six years in age, ran into the room at the sound of his mother’s surprise.

“No way,” he rushed over to his sister once he noticed her increased size. “Y/N, wake up! Look at you! Come on! Come on!”

Emily leaned on the door as her daughter woke at the movement of her brother shaking the sleep from her. The girl seemed oblivious to what was happening. At least she didn’t kill anyone, Emily thought to herself. Unlike her brother.

“Devan, stop,” Y/N whined, rubbing her eyes. “I was having a good dream.”

“Y/N, you have to see how big you’ve gotten,” Devan began to yank at his sister to get out of bed. “You’re just like me!”

Watching this all unfold before her very eyes, Emily watched as her daughter slowly rose from her bed to stand in front of the mirror that stood beside her bed. Any sign of sleep was eliminated once Y/N caught sight of herself. Her hands roaming all over her face and body, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Oh my goodness,” Y/N slapped her cheeks as she held her face in place in a childish manner. “I’m a big girl now.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #american horror story fanfiction #ahs8 #ahs apocalypse

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

Text

South Africa’s Mad God Face Off With Devils In Bruising New Doomer

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

MAD GOD is a hell of a name for a band. It's brash, frightening and, if there is a God, probably true. Literature is replete with tales of madness, from throne room to darkest cavern. After all, what could be more frightening than insanity? Worse still, what if God were bonkers, too? It's an idea pregnant with possibilities and this week, the Johannesburg trio of Tim Harbour (guitar, vox), Evert Snyman (bass), and Patrick Stephansen (drums) gives birth to another album of vignettes from our mad, mad world.

'Grotesque and Inexorable' (2018), besides being a vocabulary expanding mouthful, will have fans of H.P. Lovecraft whipping out their magnifying glasses, looking for signs his influence throughout. What's behind those glowing eyes? Is that perhaps a ritual knife? And what of that ghastly cephalopodic tail? It all beckons us to venture closer, to stroll deeper into the bush. Only here in nature's primitive darkness can we see clearly.

This is not an interpretive dance through Lovecraft's greatest hits, however. What Mad God have assembled is essentially a horror anthology, each of its six chapters bearing witness to some monstrosity -- real or imagined. All of them are unimaginably terrifying.

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." (H.P. Lovecraft)

The parade of deplorables kicks off in the cemetery, where apparently if there is no rest for the wicked, then neither will there be respite the just. "Haunting the Graves of the Unhallowed" is like a nod Unhallowed Graves and perhaps The Reluctant Dead by the pioneering author of African horror, Nuzo Onoh. Mad God bring a Goyaesque gravity to the song, with the witchy metallic grit of early Yob or the bitter-sweet ire of Trouble -- all caged with the expansive song structure made a staple of the genre by the godfathers of doom, Black Sabbath. That's for those of you reaching for a point of reference in this slow-burning, bubbling cauldron of toxic stew. It won't take long for you to acclimate to the flavor, and with repeated spins you'll be easily picking up on the Mad God distinctives.

If the first track draws upon the supernatural, "The DeZalze Horror" is grounded in grizzly physical reality. In January of 2015, the papers greeted South Africans with the strange story of a millionaire and his family massacred at the DeZalze Golf Estate golf resort outside of Cape Town. Henri van Breda, was the apparent lone survivor and claimed amnesia about the whole event. He evaded justice for a year-and-a-half, until all evidence in the investigation confirmed that the 20-year old Henri had indeed wielded an axe against his father, mother, brother, and sister (the latter being the sole survivor).

Mad God's mean, sludgy swagger makes this track a fitting bedfellow with Church of Misery's bevy of serial killers. Tim's guitar chugs along like someone pacing hallways, Evert and Patrick's rhythm section makes me think the bump and drag of the axe's head along the floor, while Henri laments the shocking outcome of his brutal rage. A bluesy, fuzzy interlude brings us the 911 call, and the drums pound like sunken heartbeat, resigned to the awfulness and permanence of one's decision.

Last month, the band chose "I Created God" as the album's first single. "This song was written after watching a Charles Manson documentary, following his death in 2017," Tim Harbour explains. Though Manson remains the perennial muse of songwriters, he hastens to add: "This song does not condone the actions of the cult leader, but rather delves into the psyche and motives of both him and his followers around the time of the murders that took place in 1969." As one might expect, the lyrics aren't pretty, underlying the band's thesis that despite the beauty and good in the world, the ugliness of evil is never far behind and is often three steps ahead. Unlike the notorious fascination of Uncle Acid & the deadbeats for Charlie, Mad God's musical characterization of Manson and his Helter Skelter scenario is somber, with his mad ramblings echoing through the song's final stretch.

"The Crawling Chaos" follows, a reference to the short story written by Lovecraft, but based upon a dream of a companion, poet Winifred V. Jackson. A hazy, Alice in Wonderland ambience opens this opium fever dream, in which an accidental overdose leads to a misshapen landscape mired by 50 foot waves, outsized flora, and bizarre trip beyond the Milky Way. The song is perhaps emblematic of the horrors lying dormant within each of our mind, not to mention the subtext of addiction.

"No Prayers, No Fires" is my favorite of the lot, for it led me down another fascinating rabbit trail. This one took me all the way to one Herbert George Wells -- yes, the self-same H.G. -- who wrote a non-fiction book speculating about the future of society. Central to his book, 'The Future in America: A Search After Realities' (1906), a travelogue of impressions from his first visit to the States, was the Oneida Community of New York. Once hailed as a triumph of human cooperation and communal living, there were now "no prayers, no fires upon the deserted altars of Oneida any more forever..." Their leader, a cultic figure by the name of John Humphrey Noyes, wanted to bring about Christ's fabled millennial kingdom (which was all but an obsession of 19th century religionists), but the enterprise fell upon scandal and financial ruin. The evil groove of this song is key to its success and the band is in fine form for the duration.

At last comes "Wild Hunt," which returns us to the spirit realm for a romp through the underworld, with faintly human apparitions fastened upon their ghostly steeds in pursuit some unknown prey. Legend has it that those among us unfortunate enough to see a vision of the Wild Hunt will be met with sure calamity. It's not a fast song, as we've become conditioned to by bands that tend to go nuts with the "wild" part. Mad God's take is, in fact a sad one -- more in the spirit of Reagers-era Saint Vitus or more recently, Pallbearer. These departed spirits are "bound by eternity" to chase after desires they could never be satisfied in their former lives, nor in this pale existence. It's a tasteful conclusion to the album, though it does leave one with a feeling of melancholy.

Mad God's Grotesque and Inexorable drops this weekend and can be pre-ordered here. Of all the surprises we've been treated to in 2018, this is perhaps the grimmest and most tantalizing -- not unlike a Lovecraftian monster.

Give ear...

Grotesque and Inexorable by Mad God

Some Buzz

'Grotesque and Inexorable' (2018) is the 2nd full length release by Johannesburg doom metal band, Mad God. Mad God was formed in 2014 by Tim Harbour, Tim Harrison and Patrick Stephansen with the intention of bringing doom metal to South Africa, as it is one of the most underrepresented metal genres in the country. 2015 saw Mad God release their first split, 'Unholy Rituals' alongside Johannesburg stoner act Goat Throne. The following years were good for doom metal, the Temple of Doom shows put on in Joburg became a regular event for stoner, psychedelic and doom metal music showcasing some of South Africa’s best talent such as Ruff Majik, STRAGE, Corax, Pollinator, The Makeovers and many more.

In 2017, bassist Tim Harrison left the band and was replaced by Jarred Beaton and in July that year, Mad God released their first full length album titled 'Tales of a Sightless City,' which gained a fair amount of traction among online stoner and doom circles such as Stoned Meadow of Doom and MrDoom666 on YouTube as well as receiving favourable reviews from popular review sites such as Angry Metal Guy and Doombringer. That same year, Mad God did their first tour to Cape Town and staged a show with The League of Doom (Cape Town’s very own doom and stoner event organisers) as well as played at Krank’d Up Festival alongside acts such as Vulvodinya, OHGOD, Intervals, and Memphis May Fire. Shortly after, the tour the band took a hiatus to focus on writing new material and bassist Jarred Beaton was replaced by Pollinators lead singer and guitarist, Evert Snyman.

'Grotesque and Inexorable' is an exploration into new musical territory for Mad God. After the release of 'Tales of a Sightless City,' Mad God have been aiming to evolve their sound to something darker and more unique.

This album draws on much gloomier themes and the lyrics reflect this turn. The music itself is both dirtier and more progressive and as a band we tried to introduce a wider variety of influences including death and black metal as well as more traditional and heavy metal sounds, even including some '70s progressive rock.

The album title also reflects this change in sound. In other words, "disgusting and cannot be stopped." The band adds, "As Lovecraftian fan boys we had to throw the word grotesque in somewhere!"

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#D&S Debuts #Mad God #Johannesburg #South Africa #Doom #Sludge #Metal #Doom Metal #D&S Interviews #Doomed & Stoned

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jpat82 · 6 years

Text

A Glimpse Of You

PART 10

SUMMARY: You're with them, done with them trying to protect to you. you return to your room, to let go all of your pain. Bucky joins you, you show him your past.

WARNING: This, um, some, ehm, smutt in this one. It's my first time writing it, so feed would be nice. Okay, I'm done.

"Y/n.." You cut Steve off with a wave of your hand.

"You wouldn't of listened to me anyway." You say with clipped words.

"You can't blame him, daydreamer, we don't.." You cut Tony off with a glare, remembering the 'training' games he made you do.

"No, neither of you gets to tell me what I can do. The two of you just want to see things for yourself. I've been like a new toy since I got here, touch this, touch that person, here let's go to this place." Venom dripped from each word, your own anger starting to build. The games that they had you play since you arrived, same games your ex made you do, the money he made off of you. Pretending to love you till you no longer became useful. "You're no better then he was."

"It's not like that." Steve countered, looking at Tony as you started to walk away. You stopped dead in your tracks.

"It's not?" Your voice calm, your eyes landed on Bucky. "Funny, it feels like that."

You walked out of the room and kept going till you had returned to your room, slamming the door. You had intended on crawling into bed, but the piled heap in corner reminded you that you would be laying on the floor. Slowly you lowered your body down, a single tear escaping. You tried to push that memory away.

You didn't hear the soft knock, nor did you hear the door open and close. You felt someone move the blanket that covered you, you glanced over your shoulder. Deep blue eyes connected with you, full of pain, you rolled over facing him. Another tear rolled down your cheek, he reached out brushing it away. You brought your hand up, placing it on his chest, closing you eyes.

"Freak!" The boy yelled at you from the play ground. "Freak!"

The chant started, the teachers looking away as they started in for the fifth time this week. One kid grabbed a rock throwing it at you, you brought your hand up a second too late as it pelted you in the face, stinging as it broke the skin.

"No, honey, stay away from her, she's the devil's whore." The old woman hissed as you passed her in the store, as if being ridiculed at school wasn't hard enough. You tried to hold your head up high. "Pure evil, a demon."

"Like anyone is going to want to be with you." The boy laughed in your face after he invited you to his party. "You aren't even pretty enough to get past your voodoo."

You felt Bucky's lips press against your forehead. You wanted him to know, to know all the things no one saw. You pressed on, showing him scene after scene from your childhood, your heart aching as the scars ripped themselves wide open.

You showed him when you met your ex, the whirlwind that was Elliot. How he was the first person since your granny died that didn't shy away from you. How he treated you like a princess in the beginning. The first time you were intimate with him, you left nothing out.

Then you showed him when you found out that he was sleeping with someone else, his words echoed in your head.

"You actually thought I could love a freak like you? You're just a paycheck, no body would love you for you. You're damaged goods."

Your tears flowed freely, you felt the raw pain. The betrayal all over again, you needed him to understand your anger at Steve and Tony. You finally opened your eyes, you brought them to meet his. He wrapped his good arm around as he studied your face. He leaned in capturing your mouth in his.

Your kisses started out lazily, tongues connecting, slowly fighting for dominance. He slid his hand up your back, pulling you into him. Your heart hammered into your ribs, threatening to explode. You reached up tangling your hands in his hair, his kisses became more urgent as he slowly kissed down your neck. You felt your breath hitch, your eyes snapped open as you felt Bucky leaned more into you rolling you to your back.

Your other hand slid up to his hip, as he trailed kisses down your neck to your collar bone. Finding sweet spots you didn't know existed, a soft moan escaped your part lips. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and tugged it, silently asking. You leaned up as he pulled it over your head, and unhooked your bra, tossing them to the side. Your eyes locked for a brief moment. He smiled, it was different then before, there was so much warmth in that smile.

"God, you're beautiful." He whispered, before finding your lips again. He grabbed both your hands in his, kissing you deeply, rolling his hips into you. You could feel him through your clothes, heat welled up through you, he rolled his hips again with a little more force. You whimpered in reply to his actions, you could feels his hand slowly travel down you body, stopping at your waist band.

He leaned back breaking the kiss, his eyes full of want and need.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice rough, and deep, never breaking eye contact.

"No, I need you." You whispered, that's all he needed to hear, he grasped the top of you pants, unbuckling them and slowly pulled them down your legs. He racked his eyes across your body, grabbing the top of your panties, and peeled them off your body. You felt exposed, you watched as he discarded his own pants.

Your body shook, uncertainty was starting set in. He came back to you, his lips collided to yours with a hunger. He grabbed one of you legs gently bring it rest beside his hip as he settled down between. Heat pooled down in your lower body, you could feel the tip of him, pressing gently against you.

Slowly he rolled his hips forward, as he leaned his forehead against yours breaking the kiss. His face tight with concentration as he slowly continued to slide deep into you. You gasped, as your body tried to adjust to his size.

"God.." He breathed as he was fully inside you. "You feel amazing."

"Please." You whimpered, you bucked lightly against him. He pulled himself back slowly, before sliding back in. Slowly he continued rocking his hips into you and then back, gently at first. His lips brushed your cheek before finding your lips again.

He began to pick up pace, as your whimpers came closer. Dear god, I don't know how much longer I'm going to last.

"Please, James, don't stop." You begged.

Jesus, doll, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this.

"How long James?"

You saw images of you flash through his mind, from the day you arrived though you never saw him, hiding in the corner. Another of you in the common with Wanda telling her about life in the farm, from the corner of the room again. The day at the gym when the two of you met, you could feel his nervousness overwhelm you, butterflies in your stomachs.

When he woke, your terrified face beneath his. Fear welled up in your chest realizing he was scared that he had hurt you. The pain the next time he came too and saw the bruise. The burst of joy when you kissed.

'Doll,' he said in his mind. 'You're an angel.'

You could feel your climax building as his body slammed into yours, you moaned into his mouth. He pulled back for moment, looking into yours eyes.

"Your close, I can feel it." He moaned softly, that sent you over the edge. Every nerve fired off, your mind cleared, the dizzying high he taken you. Moments later you felt his pace falter as a curse word escape his lips. He rocked against you a couple more times, before he lowered his body to rest on you. His lips taking yours one last time.

@this-is-happening

Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #avengers #winter solider x reader #Bucky #aglimpseofyou

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loki-hargreeves · 7 years

Text

Lucifer Morningstar Imagine - You See Him In His True Form

Quick note! All Lucifer imagines I write are from the show Lucifer. :)

Your P.O.V.

''Lucifer!'' I yelled out my friend's name angrily as soon as the elevator doors slid open. I stepped into his penthouse and searched the dim lighten area for him. I found him by the big windows, dressed in a white button up, suspenders and a black bow and of course his fancy pants and shoes. ''Y/N, it's a pleasure to have you here'' He smiled slickly and walked towards me. He had no idea how mad I was at him.

He had crossed lines many times but this time was different.

I was just about to break up properly with my boyfriend, now ex boyfriend Robin, with a good plan. I wanted to do it nicely so no one would get hurt but Lucifer here had taken matters into his own hands. As I got to Robin's apartment and he saw me, he slammed the door shut and started yelling the most bizarre things, such as ‘go away!’ ‘don’t come closer’ ‘please, leave’ ‘he’s bad Y/N’ ‘he’s going to kill me! Then you’ - those things didn’t clear things up. I just stood behind his door, worried as I listened. Damn, I nearly called my friend Chloe Decker, the detective. But what Robin had said next put the pieces together.

’He’s the devil!’

‘‘A vein will most certainly pop soon if you don’t relax. Has something happened?’‘ He noticed my anger as he got closer. Lucifer’s smug smile faded as he grabbed a bottle of wine and poured some into two glasses. Yes, I wanted to yell at him but something about this man made me feel things. He made me less angry, almost calm. When I was around him, I didn’t want my anger to control me.

‘‘Well shouldn’t you know, Lucifer?’‘ I spat right back at him yet I took the glass of wine. In this moment, I needed it. Lucifer looked around and pretended to think of something. It just annoyed me. ‘‘What the hell did you do to Robin?’‘ I screeched out because I was sick and tired of his games. Suddenly, he looked like he remembered. I swear, it was really close that a real lightbulb would’ve appeared above his head.

‘’Right! The douche lover of yours’’ Lucifer chuckled and gladly sipped his drink. I rolled my eyes before closing them, finding it hard to contain myself. My blood was boiling from rage. He just had to be like this. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. ‘‘How are things by the way?’‘ He asked quickly since I used my time to calm down instead of talking.

‘‘Well, ex-lover now..I visited him only to find the guy scared to death. So, I'll ask you this one more time, what did you do?’‘ I looked him straight in the eyes. The air grew tense around us and I could tell he realised I wasn’t cool with this anymore. Lucifer clenched his jaw and then sighed, letting go of his childish play.

‘‘Fine. I had some serious things to discuss with the capricious ass-’‘ He started but as soon as he used those annoying words, I groaned. ‘‘Can’t you even call him by his name?’‘ I broke his sentence. Yes, Lucifer and I were good friends. Trust me, although he was annoying the life out of me, we rarely fought. Tonight could be an exception. Something told me that neither of us would surrender or apologize easily.

‘‘Do you want me to speak or not?’‘ Lucifer raised his voice. It was a little scary but I couldn’t expect him to start yelling or throwing stuff. ‘‘Okay, go on’‘ I encouraged him and tasted the wine. ‘‘As I was saying, I went over to his lousy apartment just to have a chat. I confronted him about the things he had done, because truth be told Y/N, he is a jackass. I even got him to admit the things he had done to you, even got it on tape and all’‘ He smiled proudly as he told me his side of the story.

I couldn’t believe him. Yes, Robin had treated me bad once or twice but it wasn’t life threatening. ‘’Why was he so scared then?’’ I wanted to know. ‘’I might’ve given him a taste of his own medicine’’ Lucifer admitted like this was all a game. Before I had a say in it, he kept going. ‘’ That biscuit arsed chav deserved it tho’’ Lucifer defended himself. By now, I wasn’t sure what he had done but it was no good. Had he hit him? Or were they just throwing words at each other?

‘‘Did you ever stop to think that some of those words could easily describe you?’‘ I raised my eyebrow. Something about what I said pissed Lucifer off. He put his glass down and he walked even closer to me, so close I had to step back. ‘‘Don’t ever compare me to him’‘ He growled seriously. I was too angry to think about my own actions. ‘‘Well I just did. You’re just a freak, Lucifer! God, I don’t even know if that’s your real name!’‘ I screamed back at him.

‘‘Don’t mess dad into this!’‘ Lucifer yelled loudly. I just stared at him in disbelief. In the middle of our heated fight, he still brought up his ridiculous life story. ‘‘Are you for real?’‘ I breathed out. He just nodded back at me. A moment of silence fell between us. I had a thousand thoughts in my head but I wasn’t sure what to do. I thought that for once he would take our friendship seriously but no. He still went along with his story of being the devil.

‘‘I was wrong when I said you were similiar with Robin’‘ I started more calmly, feeling sad. ‘‘Well that’s reassuring to hear. He’s a truly nasty-’‘ He started to call Robin names again. ‘‘You’re exactly like him!’‘ I let him know darkly. It was something I yelled in the heat of the moment and I knew I couldn’t take it back. Something twisted in his eyes once those words left my red lips. Lucifer grabbed my shoulders and stared deeply into my eyes. It felt like a trance and I completely froze as I looked back at him. Then it happened.

His usually soft brown eyes turned bright red. The white in his eyes turned pitch black, making the red stand out more. It’s like he glitched in real life and the next second his skin was deep maroon and leather like. ‘’I’m nothing like him!’’ He growled in a very deep voice. His hair was gone. It was just him but in a devilish form. Just looking at him like this filled me with fear. I was terrified. As quickly as he turned into that beast, he got back to normal.

Shock took over me. I didn’t dare to move nor breathe. Tears stung my E/C eyes and my heart was beating so hard it nearly hurt. Soon I found my entire body quivering. We were both quiet until I dropped my glass on the floor. It made a loud breaking sound and the wine splattered across the floor. Fear had taken over me and my anger was long gone.

‘‘P-Please..don’t..hurt me’‘I whimpered as realization sunk into me. I had been friends with the devil for a year. Recently I had a crush on the devil. All along, he had been telling me the truth. His grip on my shoulders loosened and I attempted to take a step away from him. Just perfectly, my heel slipped on the wine and I lost my balance, hitting the floor hard. I winced out in pain but I didn’t stay on the same spot. For fuck’s sake, he was the devil!

I pushed myself further away from him, getting glass shards into my skin. I didn’t care about the pain. I just wanted away from Lucifer. I saw how his anger faded as well. He stared at me in shock, almost sadly. It’s like he hadn’t planned to do that at all but it happened. I looked at him and let my tears ruin my makeup. I backed off so much that I was leaning against the wall. Then I started panicking.

My breath got uncontrollable and I was bleeding from my hands.’’Y/N’’ My name left his lips which hurt. I felt sick, mentally and physically. ‘’Y/N you’re bleeding’’ Lucifer noticed and walked up to me. ‘’No!’’ I managed to scream and then I gasped, desperate for air. My lungs felt heavy and I was helpless. Lucifer ignored my words and he got down on the floor with me. He grabbed my arm and looked closer at the wounds. He looked genuinely worried.

And I was so scared that I was surprised I hadn’t passed out yet. ‘’I’ll take care of that, you’ll be fine’’ He said quietly as he looked down. He sounded scared and even sad. A part of me wanted to ask him what’s wrong, but I was taken by my fear. Would he kill me now that I knew?

‘‘Breathe! Okay?..Just breathe..I-I’ll call the detective. She can-’‘ He started rambling. Seeing someone else now would make things worse. So I had to gather my strength and try to find reassurance in the fact we had known each other for over a year. ‘‘Please, no’‘ I breathed out and sniffled. He looked at me and I saw that he was on the verge of tears. He was afraid of something.

‘‘What? Why not?’‘ He seemed confused. I just shook my head no. Suddenly I felt like a child and speaking would be too hard. ‘‘Y/N talk to me’‘ Lucifer tried to make me speak. It just made me sob louder and I lost it. I pulled my bloody hands back and covered my face, crying into my hands. Lucifer decided that he wouldn’t just stare at me and do nothing.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. I grew tense but I didn’t fight him. The scent of his luxurious cologne reminded me of our good moments. I tried to focus on them instead of the horrible thoughts. Lucifer had never ever treated me bad and now I felt guilty for saying he was like Robin.

Who knows how long we sat on the floor. My wounds stopped bleeding as the blood congealed. My breathing turned slowly back to normal and I stopped quivering. Yes, I was aware that he was indeed the devil but I tried my best to think of him as Lucifer. Just Lucifer. The man who I knew well. Not the son of God that was casted out of heaven to rule hell. Hell!

‘‘I’m sorry’‘ I whispered after a small eternity. ‘‘No. I’m sorry’‘ Lucifer spoke soon after. I gulped because I was still really nervous. It made me nauseous. ‘‘I shouldn’t have lost control Y/N. Mortals find it hard to handle these things. I didn’t want you to find out this way’‘ He continued more calmly. His words started to make sense to me. He always said ‘mortals ‘when talking of people yadda yadda yadda. Everything made sense. He had been telling the truth all along. I had just never believed him.

‘‘So..y-you’re not going to kill me?’‘ I asked him with a small voice. Lucifer tensed up and he looked at me seriously. It’s like my question almost offended him. ‘‘Of course not! Why on earth would I ever do that?’‘ He wanted to know. Suddenly, he cupped my face softly and wiped away my tears with his warm thumb. It freaked me out to be here but I didn’t have any other place to go to. I’d just cry and go barmy.

‘‘I just- I can’t believe..You..’‘ I tried to form a sentence but I gave up since I didn’t make sense. ‘‘Come on, let’s get your hands fixed. You don’t want blood all over yourself’‘ Lucifer tried to lighten up the mood. He helped me stand up and then he took me to his bathroom. A part of me wanted to run off and never come back but another part of me wanted to stay.I had mixed feelings and I hated it.

He made me sit on the toilet, with the lid down, as he grabbed some rubbing alcohol and tweezers. Lucifer started to pluck out the glass and I winced every once in a while because it hurt. ‘’It’s okay love. I’m done soon’’ He reassured me as calmly as he could. As my own shock had faded a tad, I started to think more. Lucifer seemed sad that I knew. It’s like he was ashamed and worried, worried that I would ditch him forever.

The longer I thought about it, the more comfortable I got. What would it change that I had seen him like that? He was still the same person, right? At least I truly hoped so.

Once he washed my wounds with the alcohol, I groaned in pain. ‘’Fuck’’ I hissed, trying my best to ignore it. He made sure he got every wound before throwing the cotton pad away. ‘’So, now what?’’ Lucifer sighed, knowing that we had to talk about everything. The fight was left undone but trust me, I wasn’t in the mood to fight. I could barely talk without messing up because I was freaked out.

‘‘I really don’t want to fight’‘ I admitted quietly.Lucifer nodded and for once, he seemed to take this seriously. It was a miracle. ‘‘How about you get comfortable in bed, in the good boring way, and sleep? You could probably use a good rest now’‘ He suggested and started to sound more like himself. I couldn’t help but to crack the slightest smile at him.

‘‘You can lend my shirt’‘ He added as he saw what I was wearing; heels and a bloody white shirt and jeans. I mouthed a ‘thank you’ as we walked out of the bathroom. He was right, I could truly use some rest after everything. My breakup had been harsh and during those rough times with Robin, I had grown feelings for Lucifer. I had been so mad at Luci and then I was scared to death. All those feelings overwhelmed me.

Although, I had imagined this moment sometimes, I never thought I’d stay. I had never fully believed Lucifer’s stories but I couldn’t help but to think what if. I thought I’d run to the other side of the world and stay there with a gun beside me 24/7. I was wrong. Now I would be in his bed.

I had been so close to the devil himself all along.

#Lucifer #Lucifer Fox #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar X Reader #Lucifer Morningstar Imagine #Tom Ellis #The Devil #Chloe Decker #Mazekeen #Lucifer Morningstar imagines #Lucifer Imagine #Lucifer Imagines #Tom Ellis Lucifer

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a-splash-of-stucky · 7 years

Text

A Messed Up Place | One

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: How it all started out

Warnings: Bucky’s self-hatred is through the roof, suggestions of masturbation

Notes: For @hellomissmabel’s writing challenge, using the prompt Lacanian Love. Didn’t really do my final checks on this one properly, so lmk if you spot any errors.

AMUP Masterlist

Love has a lot of cliches.

In fact, ‘a lot’ might even be an understatement. ‘A lot’ is a gross underestimate of the number of cheesy one-liners, overused phrases and endless passages made up of empty promises and meaningless words that couples in love throw around haphazardly. The thing is, there has to be some element of truth behind them. These cliches must have come about for a reason, no?

Bucky Barnes thinks that that reason might be you. He doesn’t believe in soulmates, but whatever the hell you are to him — well, it’s pretty goddamn close, that’s for sure.

The two of you are sat in the compound’s shared kitchen, about to have dinner together. Well, perhaps more accurately, you’re sat on one of the barstools by the kitchen island, whilst Bucky is stood by the stove, manning the stir-fry. You’d offered to help, but after almost slicing off the tip of your finger (you’d think a trained super-spy would have better knife-wielding skills, right?), Bucky had given you a stern glare and shooed you away. He’d chuckled at your pouting and now watches you from the corner of his eye as he stirs the vegetables about.

“Still sore?” Bucky asks, noticing the way you’re absentmindedly massaging your calf.

“Yeah, a little,” you sigh, “Nat went a little overboard with the leg training today, I think,”.

“Or maybe you’re just a wuss,” Bucky teases, snorting when you narrow your eyes indignantly at him.

“Excuse me, Barnes,” you retort, “I’d like to see you try keeping up with Nat’s leg routine. She’s gotten it straight from the devil, I swear,”.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the wok, adding in a handful of beansprouts. The fragrant smell of coconut oil and garlic permeates the air, making his stomach growl impatiently. “Nah, I’d rather not,” he drawls, “Steve’s hard enough to keep up with, thanks,”.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you groan, face contorting into a grimace at the memory. “I trained with him once and that was more than enough for me, thank you very much!” you giggle. Bucky’s heart does a little excited flutter at the sound. He can’t help but admire the way your eyes crinkle at the corners, the way you throw your head back slightly, baring your neck in a most—

Barnes, he reprimands himself, subtly shaking his head to rid himself of those kinds of thoughts.

They’ve been springing up on him more frequently, as of late, creeping up on him from out of nowhere. ‘Distracting’ is one way of describing them, but they’re more than that, he knows. Those thoughts are but the smallest symptom of a problem so enormous, Bucky has no desire to even think about it anymore than he has to.

He sighs internally as he switches off the stove and crouches down, opening one of the cabinets to retrieve a couple of bowls. With his back turned to you momentarily, Bucky allows himself a second to collect his thoughts, whilst also mentally berating himself for losing control of the situation like this.

Emotions were the big no-no of your agreement.

————————————

Bucky is sitting in one of the smaller meeting rooms in the compound, reading over the mission briefing pack he’d been given a couple of hours ago, in preparation for his and Natasha’s trip to Austria. He looks up when the door creaks open. You poke your head around the edge, flash him a wry smile and sidle in.

“Hey…” you murmur, sliding into a seat on the other side of the oval table. Bucky’s eyes flicker warily over your expression, trying to figure out what it is you want from him. The two of you haven’t made much contact with each other ever since he moved into the compound a few months ago, and he’s struggling to figure out why you could possibly be wanting to talk to him, of all people, all of a sudden.

“Hey,” Bucky replies, voice clipped and curt.

The smile you give him seems a little forced around the edges, as if you’re trying to mask your discomfort. It’s the kind of smile that immediately sets Bucky on edge. Already, he can feel the cogs whirring in his mind, trying to figure out what it is he’s done to upset you. Was it the fact that he ate the last slice of chocolate cake last night? Damn it, he knew you’d been eyeing it up, he should’ve saved it—

“I—have something to talk to you…about…” you say slowly, keeping your eyes trained on your fingers. You must be nervous, given the way you’re picking anxiously at your nail polish.

“It’s…not…easy to say—like, there’s no delicate way to put it,” you continue, eyes briefly darting up to catch his gaze, before just as quickly shifting their focus away again. You’re driving him insane with this beating around the bush business. Bucky can feel his brain kicking into overdrive, reading too much into the situation, just as coils of fear tighten in his gut, like a nest of snakes slithering around in a sickening manner.

You clear your throat nervously, straighten up and flash him another smile as if to say, fuck it. “I heard you. Last night. And…all the nights before that, actually,”.

“Huh?” Bucky grunts, brows pulling together in confusion. You heard him? Last night? Doing what? Bucky went to bed late last night, so he made sure to be pretty quiet except for—

“Oh my god,” he groans, slumping forward and resting both elbows on the table as he covers his face with his hands. Bucky can heel the hot flush of shame creeping across his cheeks and down his neck. He hasn’t felt this embarrassed in a long while. The last time…was probably back in Brooklyn, when Steve unexpectedly came home early and walked in on Bucky with a girl he’d brought home, what was her name again? Daisy? Dorothy? Something along those lines.

Even so. The rush of embarrassment he felt then is almost nothing compared to the utter mortification he feels now.

“I am so, so sorry you had to hear that,” Bucky croaks, “I—I’ll promise to be quieter, next time, I—,”

“Bucky,” you interject smoothly. Your tone is neither reprimanding nor upset — it’s actually a little bit amused, strangely enough. Tentatively, Bucky lowers his hands, peeking over his fingers to study your expression. From the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, he can tell that you’re desperately trying to hold in your laughter.

“You’re…not mad?” Bucky asks slowly.

“No, I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head, “It’s natural, Bucky—I…we all do it,”.

Bucky throws his hands over his ears like a little five-year-old, because he most certainly does not want to be having this conversation right now, least of all with you. “Look, forget about it, ‘kay?” he manages to grit out, “I’ll…fuck, let’s not talk about this, alright? I don’t need you…concerning yourself with my sex life,”.

You snort. “More like, ‘lack thereof’,”

“Oh my god!” Bucky groans, narrowly resisting the urge to bang his head on the table repeatedly, until he passes out. “Alright, you know what? I’m leaving—,”

“No! Wait, Bucky, sit down—,”

“Y/N, I said drop—,”

“Please, would you at least listen to what I—,”

“No I won’t, because I don’t—,”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you growl, narrowing your eyes threateningly and crossing your arms over your chest, pinning him to his seat with the intensity of your gaze. “Would you listen to me?”

Bucky swallows nervously and, despite the fact that every muscle in his body is screaming at him to do otherwise, nods his head in ascent and forces himself to slump back into his chair. He makes sure to keep his gaze downcast, focused on the hem of his hoodie. This conversation is embarrassing enough without having to look you in the eye as the two of you have it.

“Look, we all have desires, okay?” you begin, your voice taking on a more placating tone. “We’re all human, and we all have bodily…urges, that can’t always be controlled. And I’m just saying…instead of having to stew in a soup of sexual frustration, why not…find other outlets?”

“Other outlets?” Bucky echoes, voice dubious. “Are you—what’re you saying?”

“Why don’t you…y’know…” Bucky looks up as your voice trails off. Your hands are gesturing wildly as you search for the right words. “Like, find someone? A girl—or a guy, if that’s your thing,” you add hastily.

“A girl?” Bucky repeats dumbly, “I don’t follow,”.

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose as your eyes screw shut. “I’m saying…why don’t you go out there and find someone to bring home. I’m sure you still know how to woo a woman, Barnes,” you tease, smiling impishly at him.

As lighthearted as your tone may be, all Bucky can focus on is the heavy bitterness settling in his chest. “You think a girl’d want me, Y/N?” he says harshly, his words laced with venom.

Something in his tone makes your head snap up, alarm flaring in your eyes. “Bucky, I didn’t—,”

“Because why would anyone ever want me, Y/N?” Bucky snarls, voice dripping with self-hatred. “I’m fucked up, is what I am. And ‘sides, even if I could’a gotten a girl — which is a fat chance, by the way, ’cause look at me,” Bucky says, gesturing towards his metal arm, “I wouldn’t trust myself ‘round her. I’m too strong. I could hurt her,”.

“Bucky,” you murmur, and something in your voice — something tender and sympathetic and gentle — makes his heart twist like someone’s jamming a knife between his ribs. Bucky Barnes knows that he doesn’t deserve gentle, knows that he is unworthy of your kindness. All he’s ever been in his life is cruel and unforgiving, why should he expect himself to be treated any differently?

“Hey, Bucky, hear me out, okay?” you say softly, getting out of your seat and coming around the table to stand beside him. Your hands hover momentarily, as if you’re about to touch him, but then you seem to think better of that idea, letting your hands drop to your sides. He’s thankful for that. Bucky doesn’t think he would’ve been able to handle your touch — not because he doesn’t want your hands on his body, no, but because he knows your touch would have been soft where all he’s known is rough, brusque and clinical.

Bucky doesn’t know how to handle soft.

“I know you think you don’t deserve this,” you say gently, “But you do. No matter what you’ve done, no matter what you’ve been through…Bucky you do,”. Bucky goes to open his mouth but you plough on, “Look, I know you might not believe me, might not believe any one of us, no matter how many times we say it…but the thought is there, ‘kay? You deserve to be loved, Bucky,”.

Bucky feels like his heart has been through a hyper-accelerated spin-and-rinse cycle in a washing machine in the space of the last five minutes. First the whole shock of discovering that you’d overhead him doing unspeakable acts in the bedroom, and now this? Are you trying to give him a heart attack or something? He’s a senior citizen, for goodness sake, you should know better.

Yeah, don’t let Wilson hear you saying that, Barnes, he thinks ruefully.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Okay. I’m listening to you,” he says quietly.

A moment of silence passes. From the corner of his eye, Bucky can see you opening and closing your mouth several times, as if you’re figuring out the best way to phrase your next words.

“Look, okay, here’s the thing,” you say, keeping your gaze trained on your feet, “The world has changed a lot since you were around. And…sometimes…people, a pair of consenting adults, that is…well, I guess you could say that they have an arrangement. A…no-strings-attached arrangement,”.

With every word that comes out of your mouth, Bucky feels himself getting progressively more confused. “Ohhh…kay?” he says slowly.

“Basically, what I’m suggesting is that we have sex, without getting into a relationship,” you say, the words coming out in a sudden gush, stumbling over themselves in their hurry to leave your mouth. “Like I said, it’s a thing, nowadays. We’d be friends who fuck each other, completely casual,”.

If it were physically possible for jaws to hit the ground, Bucky is certain that his would be trailing on the floor behind him. The notion is so completely foreign to him, that he has no idea where to even begin asking questions. People do that now? Bucky already knew that attitudes towards sex had changed since the 30s, but he hadn’t expected them to have changed this drastically.

Admittedly, the idea does have it’s appeal. You are, after all, a beautiful woman. If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes hasn’t forgotten how to do, it is to appreciate a beautiful woman when he sees one, and you are definitely one of the most stunning people he’s ever set eyes on. And not just on a material level, either. Bucky knows beyond a shadow of doubt that your beauty is something a part of every cell in your body, inside and out.

But as much as he wants you, a part of him feels guilty — and not just because he knows that he doesn’t want to taint your glory with his darkness.

“I can’t just—use you like that, Y/N!” Bucky protests, “I—that’s so wrong!”

“You’re not using me,” you explain patiently, “If I want this — want you — and am completely okay with doing things with you…well, then, what’s wrong with that? It’s consensual, right?”

Bucky’s heart stops. “You want me?” he echoes quietly, not daring to meet your eyes. Why would anyone want him? Bucky knows that he’s messed up — a patchy, busted-up excuse of a human being. He finds it impossible to comprehend what someone as perfect as you could ever see in him.

“Yes, Bucky,” you reply, in a tone that makes it seem as if the fact were completely obvious. “I do want you. You’re a good man, Buck. We’d be helping each other out by doing this,”.

Bucky is torn. His heart wants to say yes, but the rational, logical side of himself knows that saying yes would be a terrible idea. You just don’t get it — you don’t realise how dangerous Bucky is. His arm was created as and still is, a highly precise weapon, perfectly capable of hurting you if Bucky lost control of himself in the moment. “But…why? I—I could hurt you,” Bucky says weakly, his rational mind trying valiantly to dissuade you, even as a larger part of him yearns to say yes.

You shrug nonchalantly. “I’ll heal. I’ll heal within seconds, remember? Accelerated healing, and all that good stuff. You might hurt me, but I can guarantee you, I’ve been hurt worse,”.

Bucky groans internally. It seems you’ve been spending too much time with Steve, lately, and his stubbornness and disregard for personal safety seems to have rubbed off on you. “Y/N!” Bucky cries in frustration, “Just because you have super-human healing abilities, or whatever—that doesn’t mean that you should be throwing yourself into dangerous situations!”

“But it’s not danger!” you protest, voice rising in response to Bucky’s tone, “It’s only you, Bucky, I trust you—,”

“You shouldn’t,” Bucky growls, even though it pains him to admit it, how evil he really is. He hastes that he can’t trust himself enough to be around you, but the risk is not worth it. Bucky would never hurt you. He would never be able to live with himself if he did.

Your jaw snaps shut. “Fine,” you huff, “If you don’t want me, I can’t force you,”

And right there is where you’re wrong.

Because Bucky does want you, wants you in every way imaginable. Your face is the one he sees when he closes his eyes, your name is the one on his lips as he strokes his hand over his cock. He’d never admit these desires to you, though. You’d probably think he was a freak, or something.

“But before you make a decision,” you continue, stepping into his space and letting your hand rest on his shoulder, “Before you tell me what your answer is, I want you to think about it, okay? I’m not gonna break, Bucky. I can handle this. I want this, if you’ll let me have it,”.

Those three letters balance precariously on the tip of his tongue. From the way you’re looking at him, from the unrelenting fire behind your eyes and the defiant set of your jaw, Bucky knows that you know this too. But, instead of giving in like he wants to, all Bucky does is nod curtly and force his mouth to say, “I’ll think about it,” in a tight voice.

————————————

A week later, Bucky finally caved in.

With the power of hindsight on his side, he can look back on those seven days between you propositioning him and him finally giving into his desires with a sort of bemused fondness. Why did he ever believe that his will was strong enough to withstand your alluring pull? How could he resist someone so pure and beautiful and radiant in every way possible? It’s an infeasible task; Bucky never stood a chance against someone like you. You’d had him hooked from the day he first met you, and you’re practically all he’s ever thought about since then.

Over the last seven or so months, the two of you have developed an interesting relationship. The colloquial term, as Bucky’s come to learn, is ‘friends-with-benefits’. You and Bucky will fuck every week or so, depending on stress levels and libido, plus the general state of things at the time. The rest of the team has thus far remained unaware of the little arrangement Bucky has going on with you. That’s not necessarily because he thinks they’ll disapprove, it’s more to do with the fact that he doesn’t need the rest of the team prying on his — fairly active — sex life. The gang has a reputation for being rather nosy when it comes to that sort of stuff.

In between your mind-blowing fuck sessions, Bucky will hang out with you and do the things that any normal pair of friends would.

Except.

Lately, the feelings he’s been harbouring towards you are definitely something beyond the level of ‘just a friend’. He cares for you in a way he thinks a lover would care for their partner. The thing is, as part of your agreement, feelings were supposed to be out of the equation entirely. This was supposed to be a strictly platonic relationship, with a helping of sex on the side.

To be fair, Bucky had gone into the aforementioned agreement with more than a little crush on you, so he knew that he was laying down in his grave before it’d even been fully dug. He was doomed from day one, but what a sweet, sweet torture it has been. He never meant for things to get where they are now. Congratulations Barnes, he thinks dryly, you just went and screwed things up, like you always do. Why couldn’t you keep your stupid little heart in check?

But what really hurts — the thought that keeps him awake at night — is that Bucky knows in his heart of hearts that you could never feel the same way, despite how much he wants you to do just that. He wants you to want him. Oh, how desperately he craves to hear those words spill from your sinfully soft lips. But why would you settle for someone like him? A monster, an abomination, an incomplete creation? He wants you to want him, even though he knows that such a future is never possible.

It’s a depressing truth, really.

You are the perfection to his destruction, the angel to his demon. The two of you are polar opposites and there is no way Bucky could ever hope to be with you the way he wants to be with you.

“Hey, Bucky?” you call, drawing him out of his thoughts, “You’ve been staring at those plates for a while now, you okay there?”

“Um, yeah,” he says hastily, shaking his head to re-centre his mind. “Just…are plates or bowls better, do ya think?”

“Meh, I’d go with bowls,” you reply.

Bucky nods, takes a deep breath to steady himself, then retrieves two bowls from the back of the cabinet, setting them on the kitchen counter so that he can serve up the stir-fry.

Your chatter has picked up again, and Bucky lets your soothing, melodious voice float through his head as he chews over his situation. This needs to end, somehow, Bucky knows that. If he can’t keep his runaway emotions in check, then the best thing for him to do — the healthiest thing for him to do — would be to cut you out of his life completely. Rip the band-aid off and embrace the pain.

Not tonight, though, he decides, because damn it, Bucky can never show any self-restraint when it comes to you. He wants to be selfish, needs to be selfish, just one more time.

#annies2kbirthdaycelebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #my writing #hellomissmabel #a messed up place

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drdln3-blog · 3 years

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IN SEARCH OF GOD: The God of Spirituality

“God and spirit is not another worldly belief in fate, luck, chance, or coincidence. It is practical, reliable way to make sense of the real world, find peace in the midst of turmoil, and discover hope and joy.”

The questions about God have occupied our minds for centuries in one form or another. What is God? Does He really exist? Why do we search for God? Do religions really believe in the same God? Why are there religious wars? Such questions have been asked over and over again by humanity as such and by individual beings at different stages of their lives. The mythology of God has created its own history. Human society changed from hunter gatherers to farmers with the invention of agriculture. The female God was replaced by the male God and violence was introduced in the name of religion. Instead of searching for God that is tangled up with violence and survival, today we should search for God of spirituality.

“With SPIRITUALITY come Morality and does what's right. Spiritual people are not God-Less but honor the God in all of us”

Religions and prophets have been preaching about God for centuries, and millions of people have developed faith in their concept. The revolution of science and technology in this century has forced many of us to reevaluate the doctrines and tenets received through our religious traditions. Should we believe in creation or should we believe in evolution? Should we believe in heaven and His court of justice when we look up in the sky or should we believe in the space, the planets, and the galaxies up there? I hope this write-up will provide a fresh insight into the mysteries about God -- and leave us wiser, peaceful, and enlightened. Rather than underscore the conflict between religion and science and point to their mutual exclusivity, we need to unravel the strands in both and see the extent to which one augments the other.

The concept of God has practical value, for the new generation of science and technology and people of 21st century, only if we are prepared to interiorize that concept in a unique manner. A scientist may find it difficult to believe that some wise old man or woman sitting up in heaven is keeping track of everything; because “God does not micromanage our actions.” But the same scientist can't deny the incredible awareness and intelligence that exists in life, in nature, and in us. It's being a scientist that makes us spiritual and believer.

God is no more a theoretical concept that had been preached by most religions. For the new generation of 21st century, we should be able to experience. This is the essential part of being a religious today. Meeting God, having vision, living with God 24 hours a day; that is what being a religious is all about. The God is not in church or mosque or temple or gurdwara only that appears every Sunday. God is also not sitting somewhere in the sky watching our actions. The God is in us, the God is in congregation. “If we can’t see God in all, we can’t see God at all.” We need scriptures that can teach us all humans are capable of achieving union with God while still alive by realizing the Divine within. We want to become one with God and experience it.

We need scriptures, where god-realization teaches merger of soul (atma) with supreme soul/God (parmatma) and salvation (Jeewan Muktee). In such realization there is no heaven/no hell per se. All those are on this earth; and not separate places such as patal (netherworlds) and agas (sky) which has been misinterpreted as particular places by many theologians.

We need scriptures like Guru Granth Sahib where Sikh Gurus and other contributors have defined God as Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Transcendental (Nirgun), Immanent (Sargun), creator, loving, kind, compassionate, caring, and in various other ways.

We humans are the only species in the animal kingdom who are blessed with an analytical capacity and logic. We possess the only nervous system that is aware of the phenomenon of God, soul, reincarnation, hell, and heaven. Many of us question the existence of God we have known through religion and history! Is God a creation of our own mind that is influenced by the environment? For example, most of those who grow up in a communist world, do not believe in God. Could God be an "idea" depending on the climate, the environment, and the tradition in which we have been brought up? Does God exist for us humans only-- the only species known to have a mind which fosters ideas?

Because the concept of God helps many of us deal with ups and downs in life and keep the mind tranquil, could we be using the concept of God mainly to deal with life-crises. I hope this write-up can provide a meaningful understanding of the questions we have raised here and many more that occupy our mind as well as a personalized answer to the questions which will conform to our nature as both rational and religious human beings.

Our purpose is not to create a new religion, sect or movement, but to understand the concept of God, which constitutes the spiritual basis of living. Such understanding will put us on a road to love and happiness irrespective of our faith.

In understanding God and Spirit, mind, in the way we use the word, is not just thought. It includes our emotions as well as all unconscious mental-emotional reactive patterns. Emotion arises at the place where mind and body meet. It is the body's reaction to your mind - or you might say a reflection of your mind in the body. "Spirituality is defined as the self, connected (by consciousness/energy) to The Higher Power. We are all part of the One Spirit. When one experiences the true meaning of spirituality, which is to know God, you will realize that He is your Self, and that He exists equally and impartially in all beings.

The Self is the knower, the observer, and the witness. It sees everything and not seen by the seer. Our awareness of Being is consciousness. The body has no awareness of its own if it were not pervaded by consciousness; it would be just a lump of flesh. The mind has no awareness of its own and does not even have true intelligence. The mind can only think and doubt. It has beliefs, opinions, likes, dislikes but is not aware of anything. Awareness and true intelligence exist within the SELF". Ego, Intellect and Senses are barriers to Spirituality: "When the five senses are stilled and thinking has ceased, when the intellect does not stir, in between two thoughts, then one can enjoy the tranquility of mind and reaches the highest state of spirituality". The real spiritual experience is so profound that it wholly transforms the character of the individual.

Unlike God in Semitic religions, “God of Spirituality” has no devils and evil. God is loving, kind, compassionate, caring, and omnipresent. The realization of “God of Spirituality” does not support the concept of God who punishes his creation for perceived sins and bad karma. Therefore, there is no doctrine of karma in any fatalistic or deterministic sense".

"Why God is a Mystery"? Just as a bird flying in the infinite space does not leave any marks behind, similarly, God does not leave any footprints in the material world! God is Omnipresent but remains a 'Concept God', invisible to devotees: God is everywhere, in every atom of the visible and invisible Cosmos as a Power of evolution and involution. Thus the Universe itself is unfolding out of its own essence beyond the reach of our limited senses. There is no absolute proof of the presence of the Absolute, Infinite God. God cannot be confined within the limits of the finite experience of our limited body-mind-intellect apparatus. It will continue as a mystery unless we try to understand the laws of nature in light of scientific knowledge.

God is not a logical proposition: you cannot prove it by logic; you cannot disprove it by logic. Logic is utterly irrelevant to God. God is an idea in theology, though we try to make it a reality. Science makes it real, because universal energy is real and in science god is accepted as universal energy or all powerful God.

There is one Universal energy that we can call God, Allah, Ram, Parmatma, Hari, Lord of the Universe, Nature or any other name we choose. That energy is constant; it can neither be created nor destroyed. However, this energy can convert into matter and matter can convert back into energy. Therefore, everything is created out of this energy and goes back into this energy. All matter is a form created from formless Energy, and the creativity is infinite and method of self-creativity is a real wonder when we look at the creation and growth of living organisms. A scientist cannot deny the feeling of being startled at Nature's absolutely phenomenal and the most intelligent work of self-creation into all the complicated life forms including a human being through a greatly thoughtful and organized manner. This reminds me Albert Einstein when he said: " God does not play dice with the world." We may rephrase the above revelation that “The Creator is in the Creation, and the Creation is in the Creator.” That’s why it is impossible to see God, because He resides in us. Since we and God are one, we obviously can't see God, just as, for instance, an eye cannot see itself. This is like individual waves are part of the same ocean or individual rays are part of the same Sun. That is the ultimate truth.

The one who realizes this truth have no enmity. Because we are created from the same source. That’s why "If we don't see God in all, we cannot see God at all." If we don't see others as an enemy, then there is also no fear. Fear is the product of others. One who realizes this truth is not only without enmity and fear, but is not afraid of getting old or of dying young. Also not afraid of reincarnation or hell or heaven. But such realization comes only to few who are blessed and try hard to realize this truth. That’s what is realization of God.

Another way to look at the same point of view is: Many of us have been asking what is God: "We spend too much time in believing what we don't know. Those who believe in God; God is the very core of our being, it is like peeling an onion and reaching that central nothingness, which is God. The whole is God." The universe and God are one. There is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity. All life is one; therefore, there cannot be God and man, nor a universe and God. A god not in the world is a false god, and a world not in God is unreal. All things return to one, and one operates in all.

"God is neither Human Statue nor any Religion God. God is the Electromagnetic pulse of energy that gives life and lives within all."

That is why God and spiritual man including all the prophets and saints may represent reflections of God. This metaphor/simile may help us understand. God is one like a moon. However, there may be numerous reflections of moon in pitchers full of water. We are like water pitchers representing reflections. When a pitcher breaks down the reflection is gone but moon is there. Just like this metaphor God is real and immortal but we including prophets come and go (because material aspect of energy is not permanent). Therefore no prophet is God. Because God is one and only one who is neither born nor dies. That is why we can say that God does not come in anthropomorphic form.

* Dr. Sukhraj S. Dhillon is an eminent Scientist with numerous research publications in life sciences who studied at Yale University and served as a Professor at University in North Carolina. He has written more than a dozen books on topics of Health, Aging, Vegetarianism, Weight control, Stress-free living, Meditation, Yoga, Power of Now, Spirituality, Soul, God, Science, and Religion. His articles and books are a pointer to his line of thinking including current publication. He has been the President, Chairman of the board, and life-trustee of a non-profit religious organization and has expressed his views in the congregation and at international seminars.

Reference: “IN SEARCH OF GOD: God Of Spirituality” available from popular booksellers throughout the world including Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble.

[ https://www.amazon.com/Dr.-Sukhraj-S.-Dhillon/e/B004584DL0 http://goo.gl/XE97WR ]

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madewithonerib · 3 years

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Rejoice and Tremble: The Surprising Good News of the Fear of the LORD (Ebook) | By Michael Reeves

Our inner convictions & values shape our lives & our ministries.

And at Union—the cooperative ministries of Union School of Theology/Publishing/Research/Mission (www.theolo.gy)—we long to grow & support wo/men who will delight in GOD, grow in CHRIST, serve the Church, & bless the world.

This Union series of books is an attempt to express & share those values.

They are values that flow from the beauty & grace of GOD.

The living GOD is so glorious & kind, HE cannot be known without being adored.

1.] True Love

Those who truly know HIM will love HIM, & without that heartfelt delight in GOD, we are nothing but hollow hypocrites.

That adoration of GOD necessarily works itself out in a desire to grow in CHRIST-likeness.

2.] Servant Heart

It also fuels a love for CHRIST's precious bride, the Church, & a desire humbly to serve—rather than use—her.

3.] Share HIS Concerns

And lastly, loving GOD brings us to share HIS concerns, especially to see HIS life-giving glory fill the Earth.

Each exploration of a subject in the Union series will appear in two versions: A full volume & a concise one.

The idea is that Church leaders can read the full treatment, such as this one, & so delve into each topic while making the more accessible concise version widely available to their congregations.

My hope & prayer is that these books will bless you & your Church as you develop a deeper delight in GOD that overflows in joyful integrity, humility, CHRIST-likeness, love for the Church, & a passion to make disciples of all nations.

Read Chapter 1: Do Not be Afraid!

CH1: Do Not be Afraid!

As children we were sacred of the dark & the monsters under the bed. We were both fascinated & repelled by our fears.

And not much changes when we grew up: Adults love scary movies & thrills that bring us face-to-face with our worst fears..

Fear is probably the strongest human emotion.

But it is one that baffles us.

1.1] To Fear or Not to Fear?

● Is fear a good thing or a bad thing? ● Is fear something to embrace or flee?

Many times SCRIPTURE clearly views fear as a bad thing, from which CHRIST has come to rescue us.

[1 John 4:12,18, Luke 1:74-75, Romans 8:15, 2 Timothy 1:7]

● 1 John 4:18 | ¹⁸ There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear involves punishment. The one who fears has not been perfected in love.

● 1 John 4:12 | ¹² No one has ever seen GOD; but if we love one another, GOD remains in us, & HIS love is perfected in us.

● Luke 1:74-75 | ⁷⁴ deliverance from hostile hands, that we may serve HIM without fear, ⁷⁵ in holiness & righteousness before HIM all the days of our lives.

● Romans 8:15 | ¹⁵ For you did not receive a spirit of slavery that returns you to fear, but you received the SPIRIT of sonship, by whom we cry, “Abba! FATHER!”

● 2 Timothy 1:7 | ⁷ For GOD has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power, love, & self-control.

The author of Hebrews agrees, arguing that CHRIST came specifically to “deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery.” [Hebrews 2:15]

Hebrews 2:14-16 | Now since the children have flesh & blood, HE too shared in their humanity, so that by HIS death HE might destroy him who holds the power of death, that is, the devil, ¹⁵ & free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. ¹⁶ For surely it is not the angels HE helps, but the descendants of Abraham.

In deed, the most frequent command in SCRIPTURE is:

“Do not be afraid!”

Yet again in SCRIPTURE we are called to fear.

Perhaps even more strangely, we are called to fear GOD.

The verse that quickly comes to mind is Proverbs 9:10.

Proverbs 9:10 | ¹⁰ The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, & knowledge of the Holy ONE is understanding.

But while that is the best known, it is far from alone. At the start of the Book of Proverbs we read,

Proverbs 1:7 | ⁷ The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom & discipline.

David prays,

Psalm 86:11 | ¹¹ Teach me YOUR way, O LORD, that I may walk in YOUR truth. Give me an undivided heart, that I may fear YOUR name.

Isaiah tells us that “the fear of the LORD is Zion’s treasure” [Isaiah 33:6]. Job’s faithfulness is summed up when he is described as “a blameless & upright man, who fears GOD” [Job 1:8].

And this is not merely OT state of affairs that the NT rises above. In the Magnificat, Mary says that [Luke 1:50]

● Luke 1:50 | ⁵⁰ HIS mercy extends to those who fear HIM, from generation to generation.

● Isaiah 33:6 | ⁶ He will be the sure foundation for your times, a storehouse of salvation, wisdom, & knowledge. The fear of the LORD is Zion’s treasure.

● Job 1:8 | ⁸ Then the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered MY servant Job? For there is no one on earth like him, a man who is blameless & upright, who fears GOD & shuns evil.”

JESUS describes the unrighteous judge as one “who neither feared GOD nor respected man” [Luke 18:2].

Luke 18:2 | ² “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared GOD nor respected men.

Paul writes, “Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body & spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of GOD” [2 Corinthians 7:1];

& again, “Bondservants, obey in everything those who are your earthly masters, not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the LORD” [Colossians 3:22].

Clearly, the NT agrees with the “Preacher” when he concludes Ecclesiastes: “The end of the matter; all has been heard.

Fear GOD & keep HIS commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” [Eccles. 12:13]

In fact, the fear of GOD is so important a theme in SCRIPTURE that Professor John Murray wrote simply,

“The fear of GOD is the soul of godliness.” ¹

The seventeenth-century Puritan John Owen likewise argued that in SCRIPTURE, “the fear of the LORD” means “the whole worship of GOD, moral & instituted, all the obedience which we owe unto HIM.” ²

And Martin Luther taught in his Small Catechism that the fulfillment of the law means “we are to fear, love, & trust GOD above all things.” ³

Walking his people through the Ten Commandments, Luther wrote that a right understanding of each meant knowing “we are to fear & love GOD.”

All of which can leave us rather confused.

On the one hand, we are told that CHRIST frees us from fear; on the other, we are told we ought to fear—& fear GOD, no less.

It can leave us discouraged & wishing that “the fear of GOD” were not so prominent an idea in SCRIPTURE.

We have quite enough fears without adding more, thank you very much.

And fearing GOD just feels so negative, it doesn’t seem to square with the GOD of love & grace we meet in the GOSPEL.

Why would any GOD worth loving want to be feared?

It is all made worse by the impression that fear & love are two different languages preferred by two different Christian camps—perhaps two different theologies.

The one camp speaks of love & grace & never of fearing GOD.

And the other camp seems angered by this & emphasizes how afraid of GOD we should be.

The fear of GOD is like cold water on the Christian’s love for GOD.

We get the impression that the fear of GOD must be the gloomy theological equivalent of eating your greens:

something the theological health nuts binge on while everyone else enjoys tastier fare.

My aim now is to cut through this discouraging confusion.

I want you to rejoice in this strange paradox that the GOSPEL both frees us from fear & gives us fear.

It frees us from our crippling fears, giving us instead a most delightful, happy, & wonderful fear.

And I want to clear up that often off-putting phrase “the fear of GOD,” to show through the BIBLE that for Christians it really does not mean being afraid of GOD.

Indeed, SCRIPTURE will have many hefty surprises in store for us as it describes the fear of GOD that is the beginning of wisdom.

It is not what we would expect.

Take just one example for now.

In Isaiah 11:1–3 we are given a beautiful description of the Messiah, filled with the SPIRIT:

There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, & a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.

And the SPIRIT of the LORD shall rest upon HIM, the SPIRIT of wisdom & understanding, the SPIRIT of counsel & might, the SPIRIT of knowledge & the fear of the LORD.

And his delight shall be in the fear of the LORD.

Those last two statements should make us question what this fear of the LORD is. Here we see that the fear of the LORD is not something the Messiah wishes to be without.

Even HE, in HIS sinless holiness & perfection, has the fear of the LORD—but HE is not reluctant about it.

It is not that HE loves GOD & has joy in GOD but finds [unfortunately] that to fulfill all righteousness HE also must fear GOD.

Quite the opposite:

the SPIRIT who rests on HIM is the SPIRIT of the fear of the LORD, & HIS delight is in the fear of the LORD.

It forces us to ask, what is this fear, that it can be CHRIST’s very delight? It cannot be a negative, gloomy duty.

Today’s Culture of Fear

But before we dive into the good news the BIBLE has about our fears & the fear of GOD, it is worth noticing how anxious our culture has become.

Seeing where our society now is can help us understand why we have a problem with fear—& why the fear of GOD is just the tonic we need.

These days, it seems, everyone is talking about a culture of fear.

From Twitter to television, we fret about global terrorism, extreme weather, pandemics, & political turmoil.

In political campaigns & elections, we routinely see fear rhetoric used by politicians who recognize fear drives voting patterns.

And in our digitalized world, the speed at which information & news are disseminated means we are flooded with more causes of worry than ever.

Fears that once we would never have shared cross the world in seconds & are globally pooled.

Our private, daily routines are filled with still more sources of anxiety.

Take our diet, for example:

If you choose the full-fat version on the menu, you’re heading for a heart attack. Yet we’re regularly confronted with the latest discovery that the low-calorie alternative is actually carcinogenic or harmful in some other way.

And so a low-grade fear starts with breakfast.

Or think of the paranoia surrounding parenting today.

The valid but usually overblown fear of the kidnapper lurking online or outside every school has helped fuel the rise of helicopter parenting & children more & more fenced in to keep them safe.

Small surprise, then, that universities are now expected to provide previously unheard-of “safe spaces” to protect or quarantine students.

Children have grown up so protected that they are not expected to be able to cope with opposing viewpoints or criticism.

It is just one indicator that they are considered more fragile than students were a generation ago.

However, it is wrong to single out the pejoratively named Generation Snowflake:

as a whole, we are an increasingly anxious & uncertain culture.

Anyone in management knows about the staggering proliferation of bureaucratic red tape around health & safety.

Yet it has not made us feel safer.

If anything, we triple-check our locks even more obsessively.

The certain safety we long for evades us, leaving us feeling vulnerable, like victims at the slim mercy of everyone & everything else.

And therein is an extraordinary paradox, for we live more safely than ever before.

From seatbelts & airbags in our cars to the removal of lead paint & asbestos from our homes, our safety is guarded more than our shorter-lived ancestors could have imagined.

We have antibiotics to protect us from infections that in other centuries would have been all too easily fatal.

But rather than rejoicing, we worry we’re becoming immune & so heading into a post-antibiotic health apocalypse.

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