#but ive never done the trick or treating aspect

[dizziesims]

For the first time ever, I'm gunna participate in trick or treating for simblrween! 🎃 I will try and have 2 treats, one for each day this weekend so look out for that :D

#nothing crazy ok ;-; #got some poses made up #and then I might do some face makeup #like i did last year #but ive never done the trick or treating aspect #and it sounds fun! #non sims

[apopcornkernel]

trick or treat!! 🎃🦇 (btw i loved hearing about the backstory/historical aspects of your fav wip, i’m not even in the hsr fandom but it’s so interesting)

THANK YOU <33333

(i know it's literally november 3 but shhhhh, all soul's was just yesterday it still counts—)

anyways!! the next fic i wanna talk about is... also jingfu 😭😭😭 this is embarrassing

presenting: ✨ jingfu vegas wedding ✨

there was a time i got back into asoiaf and jaime/brienne, and there's this subgenre of jb fics where they get quickly married on the quiet isle for one reason or another! and i just got obsessed with this type of wedding, and then i got to thinking about vegas weddings, and then i imagined jingfu drunk and giggly and happy and my gdocs stood NO chance

what's great about jingfu is, as i hope to never stop reminding my readers, is that they're chinese living in a chinese setting wifh chinese culture. so you can't just throw them into an actual vegas wedding situation—china has its own wedding ceremonies and the luofu must have its own technological advancements in that area too! so long story short i had a lot of fun brainstorming the wedding rituals and how it would mesh with the luofu, how people would even discover a wedding has taken place considering chinese weddings CAN technically be done without witnesses if you're feeling quirky enough (like maybe legally it's not allowed but ive seen cdramas where they do the same thing so like. me 🤝 cdramas; ignoring things for dramatic flair), and generally just trying to write their world vividly enough that it doesn't feel like Vague American Fantasy Spaceship #2432

i do think i kinda succeeded!! and even if i didn't, well, in my head i can clearly visualize it and in the end this is a fic for ME and not for yall, sorry but i come first when it comes to my fanfic :P

also i wrote my thoughts on the au while we were out with paternal relatives eating hotpot, so of course their drunken wedding feast is hotpot. i couldn't resist

It was strange to see the General and Master Diviner drinking, and even stranger to see them drinking like they were racing to their graves.

At least it would be. Extenuating circumstances, Dan Heng art thy name.

i also really like these lines i giggle everytime! because i ship jingfu but i also ship jingheng in the pathetic unrequited pining old man jing yuan kinda way.... its hilarious how down bad jing yuan still is for dan heng/dan feng and so since i needed a catalyst for the drinking i used dan heng hehe

also i researched chinese constellations for this because i needed more drunk activities and i figured i could do one of those "laying on the grass and pointing at the stars" except ofc it's the luofu so that's synthetic grass and false stars and their stars are also different and it would be very weird to mention ursa major or something! so i had to do research </3 i swear the things i do for my craft

i don't know how to end this.... i guess here's another excerpt HAHAHA

Jing Yuan, thanks be to Lan, had left behind some of his formal clothes at her residence, which meant the two of them did not have to sneak all the way back to Exalting Sanctum just to nab the appropriate garments. If they had not been drunk, the journey from the gardens to her quarters would not have taken so long. Unfortunately: they were. Unfortunately: Jing Yuan was enamored with every flower that passed him by, and Fu Xuan was busy counting the number of off-color stones in the cobbled path.

They did still make it there. Eventually.

In one of Fu Xuan’s many closets were the robes they’d worn to Qixi-jie—his a simple but elegant grey trimmed with white, and hers a dainty pink, complete with a round embroidered fan. Fu Xuan took Jing Yuan’s out, shoved it into his arms, and then shoved him out. He staggered out into the hallway, and then turned to blink at her, lost.

Fu Xuan rolled her eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“Oh,” Jing Yuan said. The light came back into his eyes. “Oh! Yes.”

Stupid, she thought, and closed the door. But apparently she’d said it out loud, because he yelled, muffled, “You’re the one marrying me!”

“I won’t if you don’t shut up!” Fu Xuan yelled back.

Immediate silence.

thank you for the ask again hehehe <3

#ask #hsr #jingfu #jing yuan #fu xuan #poppy speaks

[clownmoontoon]

Recently found your blog so I was wondering, thoughts on the Animaniacs reboot?

AAAA OMG WELCOME!!! HOPE UR ENJOYIN IT SO FAR \OUO/!!!

i LOVE this question and i have sO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE REBOOT so ima try to break it down into my likes, dislikes, and hit or miss (things i liked some of the time but not all the time)

🌈  10 things i liked!!!!! 🌈 <-- in no particular order

1. THE THEME SONG REWRITE!!!! ITS GREAT!!! og series callbacks, DELIGHTFULLY MORE INCLUSIVE, all those unnecessary side characters cut out, no weird celebrity references JUST RLLY WELL DONE and im glad they just redid the old one instead of making a brand new one ITS A CLASSIC!! plus this way u rlly notice those differences and how great they are

2. SPEAKING OF nO BORING SIDE CHARAS... YEAH!! THAT!! perhaps an unpopular opinion but ive never been a fan of the side characters and watched the og show p much exclusively for the warners so i LOVE that its mostly about them now!! (( i do miss the mime tho but they shoulda been nicer to him u_u ))

3. also like the theme song: MUCH LESS CELEBRITY CAMEOS/REFERENCES there are still a few but i feel like they were WAY more abundant in the og series and im rlly glad they calmed down w that, its actually Not That Fun to try and spot all the celebrities 

4. mORE “IRL”/TIME IN THE TOWER!!! while there are some shorts where the warners are “acting” (gold meddlers, warners unbound etc) the VAST MAJORITY(19) of the 26 warner shorts take place “irl”!! WE GET TO SEE THEM IN THE TOWER SO MUCH!! eating together, shopping together, TRICK OR TREATING TOGETHER!!! and i just LOVE this stuff its sO GOOD FOR CHARACTER BUILDING!! 

5. DIVERSITY!!!! EVEN THE BG CHARACTERS!! EVEN IN BODY TYPE!!! no more fatness only as a joke and hotness as the only other option for women, PPL ARE AVERAGE AND I LOVE IT

6. OVERALL CONSISTENT QUALITY!!! THE ANIMATION IS REALLY INCREDIBLE AND BEAUTIFUL TO WATCH!!! that was one of the BIGGEST flaws of the og series, so many eps were animated poorly bc they were handed off to studios that rlly didnt know how to draw the warners so its HELLA to see them beautifully animated in EVERY ep of the reboot so far

^^ animation by @/lemurasart on twitter!! 

7. nO HORNY JOKES...POSSIBLY ANOTHER UNPOPULAR OPINION?? bUT I NEVER RLLY LIKED ALL THESE HORNY JOKES GIVEN TO KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE LKDKD its actually rlly neat to see how creative the writing gets when they cant just horny joke their way out of a situation ALSO THIS BIT WAS AMAZING 

8. I RLLY LOVE THAT THE CEO DOESNT HATE THEM!!!!! it was so frustrating in the og series that the ceo wouldnt even hear them out EVEN WHEN IT WAS STUFF THAT WOULD BENEFIT HIM its nice that this lady is insane AND greedy aND YET ISNT REALLY MALICIOUS TOWARDS THE WARNERS AT ALL at least not any more than she is to anybody else ITS REFRESHING!! I LIKE NORITA

9. ANIME-NIACS!!!!! thATS ALL I GOTTA SAY ABOUT THAT LDJLKD

10. FANGIES!!!!!!!!! they always had fangy energy im so glad it finally manifested...

⭐ 4 things i didnt like ⭐  i was gonna make this a top 10 list but i couldnt think of 10 things i didnt like djkldkljd

1. THE REDESIGN.... yes i know i was just celebrating the fangs bUT other than that i rlly wasnt a fan of the redesign.. its just too ...animal?? the triangle noses and changing their white faces to beige just seemed rlly unnecessary imo..

aLSO THEY LOST THEIR CLOWNINESS!!! ;;;;; i miss that clown aesthetic... big round red noses, white faces.. also i loved it when characters would try to describe them and say things like THEY HAVE FACES LIKE A CREEPY CLOWN dLdlkjdJLK

im not sure why they couldnt at least stay w the white n black like the old cartoons theyre based on??? THERES EVEN A SONG IN THE REBOOT THAT SAYS “LIKE US, ITS BLACK AND WHITE” bUT... THEYRE NOT BLACK N WHITE ANYMORE LDKKDJ 

also the redesign is a lot more angular/less round than the original and i jus prefer the sof..

i miss this ;n;

2. GROSS OUT HUMOR  ..LIKE HONESTLY WTF LDLJKLJKDD theres not too much of it thankfully but the og series had like.. nONE so it was a shock when theyd suddenly zoom in on marie antoinette’s finger and it was LIKE THAT and the pigeon scene at the end of “the cutening” actually made me feel sick sdjkdjk JUST IN GENERAL IM NOT A FAN OF GROSS OUT HUMOR SO .. EUUGHGH 

3. those random new shorts that are like???? whyd u get rid of the side characters if ur gonna have these guys anyway?? the gnome in ppls mouths and the alien guy?? neither were funny to me and again the gnome short was mostly gross 

4. YAKKO CANT DO MATH?? YAKKO DOESNT KNOW WHAT PLEBIAN MEANS??? HELLO?? HE HAS A VERY COMPLICATED SONG WHERE HE BREAKS DOWN MULTIPLICATION AND ANOTHER WHERE HE SINGS EVERY WORD IN THE DICTIONARY!! hES SO SMART LET HIM BE SMART hES A HUGE NERD PLS...

💣 HIT OR MISS 💣 

THE SONGS!!! while i love that they brought back the musical aspect of the show (its rlly not animaniacs without singing tbh) the songs were sUPER VARIED IN QUALITY IMO 

the reboot song? AMAZING

the song about dot’s zit??? ... no..

🌈  OVERALL I HAVE A LOT MORE POSITIVE TO SAY ABOUT THE SHOW THAN NEGATIVE AND IF ANYBODY ASKS I ALWAYS SAY I LOVED IT!!! 🌈

IS IT PERFECT? NAH

IS IT FUNNY AND FUN AND IN GENERAL A SHOW THAT MAKES ME AS HAPPY AS THE OG SERIES DID? ABSOLUTELY 100%!!! 

✨ GO WATCH IT!!! ✨

(( ironically this scene RIGHT BEFORE THE PIGEON SCENE is one of my absolute faves DLKLKJDJKD ))

#animaniacs #I FIXED IT AND ADDED MORE PICS/GIFS YAY #I WISH ASKS HAD A SAVE DRAFT OPTION ALKDJKLD #animeniacs #anime niacs #anime animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #animaniacs 1993 #clown honks #moonime #moon gif #yakko #wakko #dot warner #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #animaniacs yakko #animaniacs wakko #animaniacs dot #the cutening #anon #animaniacs reboot

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven IV: Unravelling

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Yoongi x reader, Seokjin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: mentions of blood drinking, depression and suicidal thoughts, slightly gruesome, probably a lot of confusion, plot heavy chapter

Word count: 11.1k

A/N: I’m not sure if it’s just me but I feel like my writing style for this series has kind of shifted, so apologies if you don’t like the change. Thank you for being so patient with this update, I know it took forever, but I hope it was worth the wait! ❤︎

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

They say that humans are immensely adaptable creatures. In the face of a drastic change, when thrust into a foreign environment, we possess a biological plasticity that allows us to mould into our novelle surroundings, no matter how alien. All for the purpose of survival. Humans are resilient. Humans survive.

You have survived, and you keep on surviving.

A week has passed. Almost in a flash, yet also agonisingly slowly. But in your memory, all the feeding has merged into a blur. Every time a pair of fangs sink into you, you’ve come to switch off your mind completely. You don’t recall where your consciousness has travelled to, you just remember floating in a cold darkness. Stagnant. Void.

On Thursday, broken and hanging on by a thread, you were tossed to Hoseok. The flash of craze in his eyes, despite your gaping wounds that took longer to heal than it should have, even after drinking Yoongi’s blood, managed to instill a droplet of fear in you. But only just.

Because after Yoongi, you no longer know fear.

Still, Hoseok’s insanity is something you’ve never seen before, a wildness exacerbated by the centuries he has lived.

Hoseok looks at you like a brand new toy. When he touches you, you can feel the tremble of excitement beneath his skin. Sometimes, you wonder if he is the worst one of them all, even worse than Yoongi. Because you at least know what the others are thinking. With Hoseok, he speaks to you as if you’ve been acquainted for years, asks how you fare as if he doesn’t know of your suffering. He smiles at you like he means it, and you know he is genuinely happy to see you, but not for the reason you hope for.

“You seem sad…” He had said, staring at you intently as he brushes the sweat-dampened hair out of your face. “Yoongi hurt you?”

Your eyes were transfixed on one spot of the colourful wallpaper of his Feed Room. Your head barely nodded.

You didn’t see his mouth quirk up in amusement, but you could sense it. Hoseok was prodding you, like a zoo animal. Testing your temperament, seeing how broken you are. And you were too tired, too drained to put on a show like the circus monkey he wanted.

“No worries, Y/N, it won’t hurt with me, I promise.” The ghost of his lips traced your shoulder. “We will have so much fun together.” His long fingers prickle your thighs as he pulls you onto his lap. “Just relax and smile for me.”

It had hurt, at least very briefly before you could shut it out. Out of everyone, Hoseok has the least control. He never knows when to stop. Though he wasn’t bleeding you dry just yet, it visibly took him his entire mental strength to cease his drinking. And once he stopped, he began laughing maniacally.

“Sweet Satan, we’re in for a ride.” He kissed around the puncture wound at your collarbone where blood was weeping out of you. You didn’t move or make a sound.

The sire bond hadn’t surfaced at all. But it didn’t need to in order for you to ignore the pain; you’ve grown so accustomed to it by now that you hardly even blink, sire bond or no. You’re afraid of yourself, the lifeless husk you’re becoming.

The scariest aspect of Hoseok is perhaps how quickly he changes his mood after feeding. His ability to act as if he hadn’t just ripped into you, taking your around the house and telling you stories of his adventurous life while you eat, is uncanny. And when you fail to put on a smile for him, because how could you, his eyes would darken, jaw tighten.

“Isn’t that just hilarious? Can you believe I did that back then?” He would ask, and you’re not sure why your entertainment brings him validation.

But for self-preservation, you have learnt to giggle like you’re enjoying yourself and say cheerily, “I know right! That sounds wild!”

And Hoseok would nod madly, giddy from your approval, acting blind to your ingenuity as if he hadn’t forced the response he wanted out of you.

That was your Thursday.

.

Jimin was a salve, a soothing balm over your hidden wounds.

You no longer care whether his affection towards you is genuine. Beggars can’t be choosers, you’ll take any kindness where it is doled. It’s funny because, amidst suffering, amidst torture, you are able to resist the floods of tears that should be completely justified in your predicament. Yet as soon as someone shows the remotest care towards you, you feel the ocean pushing against your brick walls, threatening to rupture the dam.

It wretched your heart how tender Jimin was with you. You had almost broken down in his arms when he brushed over the skin where Yoongi and Hoseok had torn into. Your wounds are invisible. Vampire blood hides your cuts under fresh new skin, but doesn’t truly heal them. Yet Jimin had managed to sense your scars nonetheless.

He kissed them softly. You knew he wanted to kiss your mouth too, yet he didn’t. Is this what respect feels like?

Thus, you were completely willing when he fed on you. His preferred feeding spot is the inside of your thighs. When his cold breath arrived there, you could have sworn you felt something flutter in your core.

You had wanted him. You’re embarrassed to admit but you want him. Completely on your own accord, as the sire bond had also failed to lock in place with him too. You wondered if it was the damage Yoongi had done…

But then Saturday came, and the moment Taehyung’s fangs touched your flesh, you were swept away.

At first, it felt like drowning, as you struggled against the formidable waves that would not let you resurface. But then you calmed, a serenity took hold of you, and you began floating in the most soothing, clear blue water. The water healed you, almost, as you just drifted there on your back, watching the star-splatted night sky.

Taehyung swam up beside you, those sharp fangs of his never withdrawn, a wolfish yet reassuring smile, telling you it’s okay, everything will be okay, I can make you feel good.

And he did make you feel good.

The one thing you crave the most in this world is affection, you’ve come to learn. With Yoongi, you had wanted to feel something so badly, something other the numb wreckage of your mind you had trapped yourself in. Except he had made you feel worse, worthless, self-loathing just like him. With Hoseok, you were a broken doll, smile when expected to, laughing when required. You weren’t a person. With Jimin, you had been too grateful for his tenderness to function, unable to comprehend how, for once in the longest time, someone is treating you as if they care about you.

With Taehyung, you grew desperate to cling onto this intimacy.

It was like a drug, flooding your mind with peace and euphoria, drinking him in as much as he is drinking you. His kisses felt unhealthily good, and they tricked you into thinking that you’re worthy of someone like Taehyung, someone so beautiful, so intoxicating. He fucked you like he was making love to you, but also not. It came as waves - his sweetness, then his ferality.

You couldn’t get enough of it. You know it’s no good to feel so attached, when he probably sees you as no more than an object, his meal, but you couldn’t help it. You were just so desperate for that feeling of being desired.

He promised to make you feel good, make you forget, and that he did.

You hadn’t known what to expect from Jungkook. As you sat, waiting, on the bed of his Feed Room on Sunday, you pondered Jin’s words of his past.

He was a bright star once, before this curse. And even after, he had fed on humans once. The curiosity gnawed at your brain, pleading to find out what had happened.

Jungkook never showed up.

And so you slept the day and night away, replenishing your health with soup that Seokjin delivered, until you woke up and the cycle continued once more.

.

You watch the round dewdrop roll off the viridescent green leaf, and splatter onto the cold white tile. The greenhouse has soon become one of your favourite places to pass time. The walls of that manor are suffocating.

The faint sound of a piano whispers into your ears. You shut your eyes, appreciating the beauty of the pieces as it plays flawlessly. You wonder who is pouring out their emotions to the ebony and ivory sisters.

The glass of the greenhouse is fogged by the dawn dew, shielding you from the world outside and those who wish to take from you. Almost smiling, you pace around the kingdom of plants, enjoying the tranquility. Today is Thursday; Hoseok allows you to do as you please after he feeds on you; though it could be of his genuine good intent, you suspect it’s to instill you with a false sense of freedom. Let the dog out of its cage, let her roam their land, so the bitch never seeks to leave the house.

The thought of escaping had crossed your mind a profusion of occurrences the past week. Though, at this very moment, you don’t think there is much purpose in leaving anymore. Here, you at least are provided food and shelter, and maybe one or two friends whose friendship comes with a price. It’s not living in here, you’re merely surviving. But you’re surviving nonetheless. Compared to out there, where you’d be left to fend for yourself, constantly fleeing from seven vampires who you’re eternally bonded to.

You’ve thought about killing yourself too. A coward’s way out, but hey, you’d rather be a coward than a blood bag for the rest of your life. But when you had snuck into the kitchen last night after Yoongi’s heartless torment and raised a knife to your chest, an invisible force had pushed against your arms, freezing them in place and preventing them from taking action.

The sireship is so cruel. It humanises the vampires who captured you, makes you empathise with them, and forbids you from harming yourself.

On deeper thought, you wouldn’t have been able to kill yourself that way anyway. The moment your blood is spilled, in a house full of vampires, at least one of them is bound to smell it right away. They would have healed you before the pain could kick in - their way of sweeping everything under the rug nowadays - and you would’ve been back to the start. Except worse, as they would then know of your intention.

You crouch down beside a rose bush, petting its velvet white petals between your fingers. Flowers are beautiful yet fickles things, but roses have thorns. They lure people in with their beauty, but if anyone tries to pluck them off and keep one for themselves, they get cut. Your fingers travel down its stem to where a thorn is staring enticingly back at you.

You push the pad of your finger into its prick, hard. You don’t feel a thing. Not even as a bead of crimson oozes from the cut. It’s chilling.

Then you sense a presence behind you. When you turn, your eyes meet with those of Namjoon. Watering pot in one hand, he watches you, brows furrowed at your previous act.

“What are you doing?” There’s a hesitancy in his voice, almost as if he doesn’t recognise you.

“Admiring the roses.”

You no longer speak to Namjoon in that defying tone of yours. He was right, there’s no use in challenging him, trying to topple his superiority complex. It only took a week to tame you into a docile creature. You’re ashamed.

“No, I mean why did you purposely touch the thorns like that?” Still frowning, he stomps over, water in his gardening can sloshing about. As he sinks down beside you, his air of intimidation infiltrates your peaceful bubble.

“I… I don’t know, I just wanted to know what it feels like.” You mumble. Setting the pot aside, Namjoon snatches your finger and brings it close to his face for examination.

“Well, it was obviously going to cut you.” He hisses. When his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your blood is vastly tempting him.

“I know.” You pull your finger away, not that you don’t trust his self control, but because his touch was beginning to scald. The bond was trying to take hold of you despite it not being the day where you belong to him, and you hate how drawn you are to him because of it.

Spinning away, you stand and begin pacing towards the door. Your moment of peace has been disturbed, there’s no point in staying here anymore. But then you hear him call after you, “W-Wait.” The vulnerable expression that greets you when you look back takes you by surprise. “Um… You spend an awful lot of time in here nowadays… How come?”

You hadn’t been aware that Namjoon notices your growing presence in the greenhouse, not since you have never come across him here before. “I like it in here, I feel safe. Why, am I not allowed?” Your question lacks the challenging impudence it should have, more like a young girl asking her father for permission. You’re disappointed in yourself at how quickly you’ve deflated, even at the obnoxious Namjoon. Yet, you’ve lost your drive at standing your ground, you’ve got no fight left.

“N-No!” He is quick to dispute, standing up from his crouch as well. “I just meant… Nevermind.” His voice trails weakly to a tense silence. You watch his eyes flicker up at yours rather nervously, trying to decipher his intention. Then he speaks again, “I’ve just seen you here quite a few times… I enjoy being here myself; I find tending to my plants right before the sun rises fully a therapeutic pastime.”

His admission strikes you. You would never imagine a man as demanding, efficient and severe as Namjoon to enjoy a hobby as mundane as gardening. You’re not sure what to make of it to be honest, nor can you understand why he’s speaking to you so… conversationally. Is this his attempt at making peace with you?

“Well, you’ve tended to them very well, they’re beautiful. I enjoy being here too.” You guess you should accept his decency. He had been rather distant on Monday, leaving you to your own devices, only feeding on you once and hardly speaking a word. His contrasting moods are confusing.

Namjoon’s lips purse, brows raise ever so slightly, as if surprised by your kind response. His eyes flicker to your finger again. The tiny cut has yet to dry, fresh blood still leaking from the open wound despite its miniscule size. You should probably have some food; your body is frail, especially after Yoongi yesterday.

“I’m going to leave you to it, sir.” You nod courteously, but freeze as the name you address him as slips out of you. No, it was drawn out of you from the bond. It doesn’t take a second for heat to rush to your face in embarrassment. Namjoon noticeably stiffens. Gulps.

The coil within you is starting to wind. It tightens around your chest like thorned vines, piercing into your heart the more you try to wriggle free.

You know he feels it too.

But before he can take a step towards you, as you sense he intends to, you’re turning around and speeding out of the greenhouse. And it’s not until you’re within the confines of Hoseok’s Feed Room that you feel the liberty to breathe again, Namjoon’s sire bond reluctantly waning into the background.

.

You could tell something was off about Hoseok straight away when he entered the room. There were multiple telltale signs.

One: He was stumbling over his feet, tripping over to the bed in a drunken manner as he navigated the room. His words were slurred, hardly coherent sentences at all. His wine red hair in disarray.

Two: He smelled noticeably different. Though you’ve not spent more than two days as his feed, Hoseok has a clear distinct smell, most notable from the other vampires. He smells clean, sweet even; it’s the one thing you can’t help but indulge in about him. Yet even to your human nose, he had a weird, doggish musk to him as he approached you.

Three: From his rogue smile dribbled drying blood. And no, it wasn’t a mere droplet of crimson, he was drenched in blood, chin to toes. Despite the gore you’ve witnessed, it was still a chilling sight.

And four: Though his eyes were half shut, you briefly saw the way they flashed beneath his lids. Only half conscious, the other half gone and crazed, though full of purpose - purpose to get to you.

You catch him in open arms as he falls onto you, the mattress dipping at the sudden crash of his weight. “Hoseok, what happened?” Your voice harbours more concern than you would like to show, and you don’t know why you care at all.

His face presses against the crook of your neck, his lips stretching into a smile at your presence, right over your pulse. His hands wander to your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You recoil from his forwardness, but with nowhere to back away to except further into the bed. You try to ignore how pleasant the tip of his nose feels as it rubs against your skin.

“Missed you…” Hoseok mumbles, still grinning widely, mouth travelling to your jaw where his warm breath tickles. His breath should be cold; the heat tells you that the feeding of whoever’s blood this was recent.

You can’t help but feel flustered at his sudden touchiness. Of all vampires here, save for Jungkook, you would say you’ve been the least… intimate with Hoseok. It has never been your dynamic. It was always him flinging you around like a puppy shredding its new stuffed toy then chewing on the spilled cotton. So this is… new.

“Why are you acting like this?” You ask again, trying to pry his arms off your torso but to no avail.

“Sweetness…” He mutters unintelligibly, and you shudder as his teeth grazes your ear, an involuntarily sensual tingle following.

“H-Hoseok…” Your breath hitches, his proximity growing more and more unignorable. So you grab his face, cheeks cupped in one hand, and shake him for good measure. His closing lids flash open like gradually awakening from slumber, yet still not recovered from his daze. “What happened to you?”

“Werewolves.”

An icy cold settles in your bones. Werewolves. There are such things as werewolves as well. Vampires, witches and werewolves. What other creatures of horror are plaguing your world that you don’t know of? That explains that muttish stench he carries. The blood he’s soaked in… Is it his or theirs? You think you feel slightly sick.

Brushing his hair out of his face, you point his drooping head at you again. “Tell me what happened.”

“Those stupid mutts… picking a fight… Taehyung, Jungkook and I had to put them in their place.” Hoseok begins peeling himself off you, and finally your body is no longer crushed under his. Your hands around him fall to your side idly as you watch him stumble off the bed and head towards the door, though he doesn’t make it two steps before tumbling onto his knees. You hurry after him to catch his upper body before he falls completely onto the ground.

His shoulders in your grip, you try to examine him for any wounds, and though there are some tears in his clothes, the skin underneath has been healed clean. So why? “Hoseok, look at me.” Your voice is urgent, authoritative, it almost has the life it once had to it. His eyes lock onto yours, this time permanently without closing. They’re blank, the amber green murky with an unreadable shroud. “What’s wrong with you? You need to tell me.”

So with obvious effort, he grunts out, “Werewolf blood makes us… It’s like… wine to us. Too much and our mind is” hiccup “inebriated.”

Oh. You let out a sigh of relief.

Hoseok is drunk on werewolf blood.

Though, you’re not sure why you’re relieved that he’s alright. Surely you should be wishing for the opposite.

With tremendous endeavour, you drag him up onto his feet and walk him to the ensuite bathroom, huffing as you sit him down on the edge of the lavish bathtub that every Feed bathroom contains but you have yet to use. Hoseok is uncooperative, trying for detours on the bed, attempting to hop onto the sink. With the knowledge of his intoxicated state now, he appears like a little child, an innocently fascinated smile constantly plastered on his face, too easily impressed by even his own reflection in the mirror. For you, it’s a contrasting sight. Though he has always possessed a child-like temperament in his playfulness and love to goof at silly things, his usual underlying insanity is nowhere to be found right now.

It makes his company more soothing knowing that his mind absolves of any ulterior motive.

You don’t know why you’ve taken it upon you to do so, but you rummage around to find a clean towel. Glancing at the mirror as you twist the faucet to dampen the towel, you try not to notice how you scarcely recognise yourself anymore.

Hoseok groans at the wet coldness you press onto his chin, the dried crusted blood once again watering into a river of rusty brown-red. His fingers fly up to catch yours, trying to pry the scrubbing towel off his face. “Mmmm.” He whines in protest, shut eyes frowning. You ignore his brewing tantrum, towel travelling down to absorb the red stains of his neck, though you clean with more gentleness now.

He isn’t so bad like this, you guess.

Still, the more you try to understand him, the more you lose yourself in the maze that is his psyche. The more you think you can predict him, the more he comes out with an unexpected complexity that adds another layer to his mask. Who is Hoseok? The entertainer, the mood maker, always seeking to please his guests? The little boy who wishes not to be tamed? The spoilt brat whose greed grows with the more he has? Who is he really?

You straighten and regard his state. Head drooping sluggishly, fingers fidgeting at anything in his reach, you realise a cold towel isn’t going to help him. You’re all too familiar from the nights your uncle stumbled back, the reek of alcohol finding you before he enters the room, to know that this state of inebriation needs to be conquered before he falls asleep, lest you wish to face an ill-tempered brute the next day.

“Hoseok.” You tap his jaw lightly, rousing him, and he looks at you with surprising focus that makes you cower a little. “You should shower.”

He blinks sleepily, and you think he doesn’t comprehend at first, but then he takes your hand in his and stands up. As he does, his face zooms dangerously close to yours, pointy tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from brushing your lips. Your heart jumps. There’s a lag in your brain before you know to step back.

“Come with me, then.”

It’s evident that his whole demeanour has shifted. Gone is the childish giddiness he had. In its place: a solemn gravity, seemingly out of nowhere, his lips pressed into a taut line, jaw tense, a pinning glare possessing you unwaveringly. Even his voice has dropped deeper, forgoing its tangy cheer.

It takes more than a second for what he means to sink in. He wants you to join his shower.

“W-What? No!” You yank your hand from his, heat blooming across your cheeks.

At this point, you’re no prude, intimacy has been breached with several if not most of these vampires you share a roof with. Yet your dynamic and circumstance with each of them differs greatly. With Yoongi, it is a release of mutual resentment; Taehyung, it’s a seductive dance to pleasure you both; Namjoon, a reluctant magnetisation that you wish not to dwell on; Seokjin, a confusion of emotions and desperation; Jimin, a soft gentle healing. There has always been a sexual implication hinting at the back of your mind with these five, and with some, you’ve acted upon it. But never with Hoseok.

Because Hoseok has been too much of an enigma. Never once showing that type of attraction towards you, only a fascination that sits on the borderline of lunacy. Always just - ogling at you like you’re a show pony, marveling at the taste of your blood as if it’s a drug. And the confusion he inoculates when he acts as your friend, like he genuinely enjoys your company. Too baffling.

But right now, this very evening, something stirs in your stomach. A new sensation as another layer of him is peeled back to reveal yet another persona. A man desiring affection?

He looks at you for a while, as if he wants to say something. The absence of the smile that usually stalks his lips every moment of the day is throwing you off. You think he’s going to push further but he doesn’t, he simply tilts his head and says, “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”

Legs still rather wobbly, he makes his way, hand on the gold marble of the sink to balance his wavering weight, towards the shower. Standing there, stupefied at his sudden change, you don’t realise that he does not intend on waiting for you to leave before striping until he tears his blood-drenched shirt off crudely. Buttons fly towards the wall, scattering about in little clinks.

Faint scar-like marks dart across his back like a violent painting.

You’re transfixed. The light lines are not ridged, merely running smoothly on the surface of his skin. Some look like claw marks, some bite marks seemingly from an animal. Those werewolves he mentioned? Some look fresh, while others older.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why does he, a vampire with supernatural healing, have scars?

“So do you want to join or not?” He slurs, face half turned towards you, yet eyes trained low. His profile is striking.

“I- No. Um. I’m going to bed. Bye.” Your eyes immediately fall to the ground. Still incredibly flustered, you spin around and head back to your room, mentally trying to shake off the image of his scar-inflicted back.

At the door, you pause, back still facing him, and ask, “Will you be fine alone?”

You hear the whirl of his belt being pulled out, blood continuing to roar in your ears.

“I’ve been alone all these centuries - I think I’ll be fine.”

That’s not what you meant, but when you hear his zipper, you hurry to shut the door behind you, pondering the sourness of his reply.

.

His shower is quick, the water sounds stop not too long after you climb into bed. Though, Hoseok stays in the bathroom for a period of time before coming out. You debated going in to check in on him incase he has fallen unconscious or something of that sort, whatever werewolf blood does to vampires. But you weren’t sure if he would be dressed, so you stay tucked under the covers in a small huddle, quietly trying to dissect his character in your head.

The door eventually opens, though it doesn’t swing open as Hoseok normally does to announce his entry. He’s still in that odd sombre mood.

Lying on your side, curled up into a small lump, your back is facing him. Eyes shut yet wide awake, you hear a drop of water hit the floor every few seconds. You can’t resist the urge to look up, to see whether he has washed away the blood and intoxication.

But at the sight of his naked body, manhood only covered by the towel hanging loosely around his waist, you nearly roll off. Though his skin is mostly dry, there is still a lustre glossed over his unearthly sculpted body. The room is dark, his silhouette cast by the bathroom lights behind him. Despite the poor vision, you are mesmerised by the ridges of his abdomen, chiseled so perfectly that you wonder how they feel like beneath your touch. A defined V is carved on his pelvis, pointing down to a devilish place you’re glad the darkness doesn’t allow you to see.

You catch sight of his hand that is bunching up the towel loosen, just in time for you to swing back down into your foetal position away from him before you hear the cloth drop carelessly.

Is he purposely trying to tizzy you?

Your eyes close firmly as he paces to the dresser, and they stay that firmly closed while you hear him dress, hear the bathroom lights click off.

You jolt when you feel the pressure on the other side of that mattress, your knees curling up tighter, inconspicuously inching further away. To your relief, as he climbs into bed, he keeps his distance, doesn’t reach for you like you were scared he would.

The silence hums loudly, rhythmed by his shallow breaths. Is he finally sober?

No sound. Not a word. For Hoseok, that’s worrying.

Damn yourself, why do you care? “Are you feeling better?” You almost bite your tongue as you ask, cursing your inability to keep to yourself. At least you don’t turn to face him.

Silence, still. Steady breaths.

You begin to wonder if he fell asleep the second his back sunk onto the mattress. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

But then you hear the lightest sigh. “Feeling less drunk, but head still pounding. Dizzy.”

You’re unaccustomed to the deepness of his voice, wondering where its usual loud annoying cheeriness has strayed off to. You don’t want to say you miss it, you certainly don’t. You just… grew so used to it.

This version of Hoseok is too human. It’s uncanny.

Despite laying there in silence, it doesn’t feel silent at all. The tension is blaringly loud in the air, almost a physical pressure pushing up against you, goading you to do something. Turn around and face him. Let him feed on you to replenish. But no, he’s fed a lot today already. Your collar still feels sore. Find another vampire and ask them to cure him. But at this time of day, where the sun is already almost completely uncovered, they should all be asleep. Then at least talk to him, something, before he resumes back to his normal self that you have to cower from.

“What are those scars on your back?”

Your voice startles him. Though you can’t see well, you notice him jolt. Was that too much to ask? Too personal? And honestly, do you actually want to know the truth to your question or would you sleep much sounder without it?

He doesn’t answer.

Instant regret. You count your breaths, shut your eyes and try not to be hyper-aware of short the distance of an arm’s length actually is between your back and his side.

You shouldn’t have asked that. Of course it would be a sensitive topic. What else could explain the literal scars on his back that have failed to heal even with his supernatural abilities?

There is a line drawn between you and Hoseok. There are boundaries, though some particularly vague and hazy, between you and each vampire, but the line is especially distinct with him. You have to remember, you can’t act the same as you do with Seokjin or Taehyung with someone like Hoseok or Yoongi. He’s not your friend. None of them are your friends, really. Hoseok, one of the least of all.

Who knows what psychological trigger you’ve switched on by asking such question? Curiosity did kill the cat afterall.

“They…” It’s your turn to jounce, his response unexpected. “I don’t know, I guess there’s a limit to what my abilities can heal, and to be honest, I like the look of them anyway. I think there’s a word for it, but my mind isn’t working properly… M-something. Ma- You know, the opposite of sadism.”

You know.

“Masochism…?”

“Yeah, that. Masochism.”

The room goes quiet after he mutters the last syllable of a word you would never anticipate to be his answer. Hoseok is a masochist? He enjoys pain inflicted onto him? If it were even possible for your blood to go colder, you feel a chill spear through your veins.

Fuck, these vampires are dark. And you thought you were morbid…

“Why…?” So Hoseok is at the opposite of the spectrum from Yoongi. You vaguely understand Yoongi, how he lashes out due to self hatred. It’s a cycle of pushing people away due to fear of intimacy from his loneliness, and as a result feeling more alone. He likes to inflict pain because that way, he can convince himself that he’s an unlovable monster, and pretend that he is choosing to be alone. But with Hoseok, you cannot fathom how or why he enjoys pain. How could anyone? “If you don’t mind me asking…”

You’re tempted to turn, eye contact is human nature, but you don’t think you can stomach it. There is an inexplicable weight, an intensity bestowed. You feel as though you’re sinking in quicksand, a slow agonising submergence, swallowed up by the burden you’re seeking to know about but can’t resist.

“It’s so boring, living like this.” He mumbles. You hear him rustle around to get comfortable, or maybe to inch closer to you. “We’ve been alive for more than two thousand years. Life begins to get rather insipid, nothing really... stimulates me anymore. Yeah, fight with demons, get wasted on werewolf blood, sure, pretty fun.” Hiccup. “But after so many years, you start to not really feel anything anymore.”

Truthfully, you think you get it. You get his inertia, the lack of anything exciting him about life.

“Like yeah, I know how you see me. I’m this over-the-top, dramatic class clown caricature, so you probably won’t believe me when I tell you about how bored I actually am. But I am.” hiccup

“So pain is your remedy?”

“I guess, yeah, pain is my remedy. You know that feeling when your skin gets cut, that rush of cold that infiltrates you?” Unfortunately, all too well. “It’s pretty exciting. There’s no feeling like it.” hiccup “It’s just so refreshing, to be able to feel somewhat mortal. Get torn apart a little, because I know I’ll stitch back up together anyway. It’s the only thing that brings me thrill nowadays. Before we found you.”

“What if you don’t?” Vampires are immortal, but not invincible afterall.

“Then I guess I don’t.”

Hoseok says it with a finality, as if death is no big ordeal to him. If it happens, it happens. He’s not self-destructive perse, you know he isn’t actively looking to die. He just wants to feel something. Like you.

Yeah, you think you get it…

Despite the difference in the sufferings you’ve been exposed to, monotony breeds insensitivity to most stimulants of life. Food tastes blander, colours duller, sense of self starts to ebb away. Hoseok had been a cheerful man before becoming a vampire, one requiring extravaganza in his life, flamboyance, because his life was a show, the embodiment of entertainment. How long did that take to crumble? For him to grow out of parties and parades because he realised that they could no longer fill that void?

The fall from a life of exhilaration to one where you were only passing time is tragic. He puts on a show to convince himself that he’s having fun, imposes it on everyone around him.

You’re beginning to dissect the animus of Hoseok, what truly underlies his insanity.

It’s disconcerting, how much he’s opening up when he isn’t sober. He has kept this in for a while, you can guess.

“Hey…” He slurs sleepily, though you hear his purpose, a sort of determination to stay away and say one last thing. And finally, you turn.

In this darkness, you hardly see a thing more than the shadows cast around him. You can’t see his facial expression, and you think it’s perhaps a good thing; you don’t wish for it to confuse you more. What throws you off is the heat emitted from his body. Vampires are cold creatures, warmth absent in their touch. You try not to think about the werewolf blood still coursing through his veins to keep him warm, how it makes it feel as though a human lays beside you rather than the monster in actuality.

“Yes?”

Your reply falls flat. As your vision adjusts to the pitch black, you are hyper aware of the stillness of the night that encases you.

“I…”

He.

It’s silent. So silent you can hear the thrumming of your chest.

“Yes?” You repeat, egging him on. His hesitancy has a depressive tone to it, it is somehow so genuine, rather than for dramatic effect like one would expect from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words shoot into you like bullets of chaos and disarray, their shells ricocheting. Your ear rings as if deafened by an explosion. Maybe this is a dream. You can’t tell these days anymore.

“I’m sorry for everything.” He sounds throaty, still dragging his words as he tries to grapple at sobriety but fails. He also sounds like he means what he’s saying, like he feels terribly guilty.

You don’t understand.

“What do you mean… Why…?” Your eyes drop to the distance between you, fixing on the shadow of a crease you can barely make out.

“I’m just-” Hoseok tosses onto his side to look at you. You stare at that shadow harder. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“But wh-”

“Every time I look at you, I just want to, I don’t know, shake you. No, not you. Shake myself, or my brothers. I want to shatter some glass, sprint at a wall, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what I’m saying. But yeah, every time I look at you, I just feel so fucking bad, man. I’ve- I guess I’ve been pretty good at keeping the guilt at bay all these centuries - we kind of have to, or we wouldn’t have survived two thousand years. But like, when I look at you, I can’t forget how much you’ve suffered. That kind of damage scars you forever. I can fucking see that you’re a shell of a person.”

Your throat constricts. You hate this feeling. Not that people have ever pitied you before, seeing as there was no witness of your uncle’s abuse, there was no one to feel sorry for you. But right now, you get it. That wash of humiliation from the small satisfaction you gain from someone pitying you, someone acknowledging how bad you have it, all the shit you’ve been through. It makes you sick.

Yes, you’re damaged. Good that he knows. Good that it tears apart his conscience. You’re glad that it makes him feel horrible.

Then why? You want to ask him. But you know he’s not finished with his piece.

“I see that you try to hide how fucking empty you are when you’re with me, try to act like you’re enjoying my company and actually find my jokes funny. I guess that’s why I keep trying to make you laugh. I know I’m annoying as fuck. Hell, I would hate me if I were anyone but me. But, I don’t know, I just want to stir some reaction from you, make you feel less hollow. I know it fucking sucks for you here, and I want to make it suck less, you know?”

A shiver fires down your spine. You have never thought about it like that.

Drunk words, sober thoughts. Or so the saying goes.

All this time, you thought that Hoseok views you as some sort of dancing monkey, forcing you to perform tricks for him, smiling, laughing, stroking his ego.

But the truth is, he wants to spark some life back into you. His jokes, his stories, his antics. They have been for you, not him.

Your throat trembles.

“All that shit with your uncle, God, it was brutal, even for me. It was the fact that you couldn’t escape from it. You were living through hell for how many years? All because of us. And now you’re stuck here with us, have to continue to endure. It just doesn’t stop for you, does it? And I know it makes no sense coming from me. Especially from me, I guess. You know, I really wish I could control myself. But that sensation that overtakes our minds, I wish I could describe it to you, it’s fucking insane. Your blood tastes like a drug to me, I don’t know, heroin or something. Except it doesn’t kill me, it kills you.” His voice is drifting, quieter, duller, slower. Like he’s mumbling without knowing he’s speaking out loud. The words just keep tumbling out.

Glancing up, you see that his eyes are shut, chest rising heavily, on the brink of sleep. You want him to fall asleep. You don’t want to keep listening. Because it sickens you knowing that buried under all those masks is an emotionally empathetic person, hardly the maniac you thought him to be. Because it would be so much easier if he was that, so much easier to hate your tormentor and see him as a monster.

But actually, he isn’t. He senses your pain, holds remorse for his actions.

You hate it. You hate it.

Just let me believe that you’re pyschopathic.

“Anyway... what I was saying is that…” His head droops to the other side. Sleep will siege him soon, you’re glad to know. “I know I’m a hypocrite. Namjoon would give me hell if he heard me sympathising with the Feed, but I truly mean no malicious intent towards you... This is just the way things are for us…” His breathing slows, deepens. Words only just more than a slur of syllables. You lay there, clutching your fists, waiting for it to be over, but only for you to lie awake and ponder this revelation for hours. “I wish… I wish it didn’t have to be you... after all that you went through. But I guess you only went through that because of what you are… Hurting you was the only way to protect you...”

You don’t even hear it at first, silently contemplating his words. But then the last bit sinks in.

“Wait, wait, what?” You break your silence. Hoseok has stopped making sense, you shouldn’t expect more from a drunken vampire, but he had been making sense before. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean what?” He mumbles and rolls away, but you grab his sleeve and prevent him from turning and entering a realm of dreams.

“What you said in the end. About how… I don’t know... I went through that shit because of what I am. What do you mean? And hurting me was the only way to protect me.” Your blood has gone icy. You don’t want to be left with nothing but those words and your endless imagination of what they could possibly mean for the next few hours.

“You know, the spell…”

Spell.

“What spell?” But his eyes are completely closed, hardly a stir at your question to indicate he heard you at all. His sleeve bunches up under your fist, you gently rattle his face. “Hoseok, what spell? What are you talking about?”

He tries to shake you off, frowning in annoyance at your disturbance. “You know. That spell, the one to keep you safe.”

“Keep talking about the spell, Hoseok. Please. Safe from what?” You continue to shake him, stomach tying into knots. What spell?

“Safe from us, whatever Creatures of the Night your blood attracts.” Vexed, he grabs your wrist, eyes half opening, and shoves them away. “The spell the angels put, remember?”

“I don’t remember. Tell me about the spell, what was it?” You hear the urgency, the degrading desperation in your voice, but you need to know. You need to. What fucking spell to keep you safe?

“It’s complicated. Some twisted magic? You know that car accident with your parents? That was some Hell’s magic, when the demons started to find you... Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires. They would’ve taken you if the angels hadn’t been watching closely and intervened. Then they, the angels I mean, decided to shield your aura, you know, your angel aura. The thing that lets the supernatural know that you have angel blood? It’s a distinctive scent for us, and I’m guessing other creatures too. It attracts demons and whatnots and helps them hunt you. It’s like a beacon of light. So they had to suppress your aura. And the only way to suppress angel aura is to suppress the angel themselves. Make them suffer, endure tremendous pain, dull their virtues, make them lose the will to live, et cetera. That way you don’t ‘shine’ anymore, and we won’t be able to find you. So I guess they did some sort of spell, or whatever heavenly magic, on your uncle so that his mind was warped and unconsciously fixated on hurting you... It’s fucking dark and twisted, especially for angels... To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. That’s what irks me... Don’t know why but it just makes me feel so fucking bad…”

Something churns violently in your stomach. And you would have thrown up if you had eaten much previously.

None of it makes sense. Or maybe it’s starting to make too much sense.

You can’t believe it. You fucking can’t believe it.

You let Hoseok drift off to sleep, the weight of his body falling limp. You let go of his face.

You just can’t. Fucking. Believe it.

There’s no way this is true. He’s drunk. He has made up some story in his head. There’s no way.

Because there’s simply no way that the past few years of your endless torture has been a gift from the angels, a path paved for you to endure. To shield you. To save you.

In what sick universe…

You scramble off the bed and rush into the bathroom, ignoring the loud pads of your feet against the cold wooden floor. Your fingers tremble as you turn the light switch on and slam the door behind you with your back. For a moment, all you hear is the ocean of your roaring blood.

That’s why that night your parent died had felt so strange, so off, your disagreement with your parents so out of the blue. That’s why there was a storm. That’s why a car drove into you and killed your parents. That’s why your grandmother died so shortly after despite normally having great health. That’s why there was a sudden change in your uncle’s demeanour, as if a switch had been flipped in him. That’s why he had locked you in the basement, broke your legs routinely to stop you from escaping, beat you and your sister without reason.

It was demons and Creatures of the Night and a so-called “protection” ploy from angels.

You want to scream. As your back slides down the door, you want to scream at the top of your lungs. The amalgamation of emotions is tearing you apart, piece by piece.

This is it, the tipping point, the loss of your sanity.

His words play over and over again in your head, a drunken confession that he probably did not realise the meaning of in his state.

To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it.

Like a prayer.

Panting hysterically, you feel your mind shattering into a million shards. You can’t comprehend it. You don’t want to. You don’t want to know that the pain you felt, day after day, for what felt like an eternity had been a plot. A fucking spell. You don’t want to know. You don’t want to. You don’t want. You don’t. You.

You. Can’t. Do. This.

01:01. The crash. The beatings. The death of your sister.

It’s possible that you are crying, shaking, but you’re not aware.

And after crumbling on the bathroom floor, for minutes, maybe hours, you make your decision.

You run.

.

The sun is still out.

That means they can’t come out yet. They can’t come after you. They’re probably still asleep, unbeknownst of your escape.

The house had been eerily quiet as you snuck out. And as soon as you stepped foot outside the front door, you had felt it.

The incredible weight holding you down. Like the manor itself was shackled to your ankles. Walking away felt like trudging through mud, dragging this boggling heaviness with you. Every sire bond that has formed was shrieking in your head, wailing, begging for you to stop leaving.

It was purely your willpower and determination that gave you the strength to overcome the supernatural ties that tethered you to those vampires. You had to ignore how much your limbs were aching, how much your heart was straining. You just had to run away. Keep going and don’t look back. It was melting your brain into a puddle, but your mind had been in ruins anyway.

You didn’t know where you were going, the forest faced every side of the house, but you just kept going, as far from them as possible. If you ran down one direction, you were bound to meet an end at some point, find civilisation.

There is no plan. No plan as you fled the walls of those wretched vampires. You just knew you couldn’t stay, couldn’t continue living like that with the knowledge that was spilled onto you. There’s no way you could have pretend not to know and face those vampires, let them drain your blood when they had been part of the reason behind all your suffering.

Fuck the Heavens and the Hells. Fuck the angels, the demons, the vampires, werewolves, witches, all the damnable fucking supernatural.

Angel blood in your veins. A fucking curse.

Every bone in your body is starting to hurt, lungs growing weaker every gasping breath. You keep running, ignoring the overbearing ache and faint voices in your head chanting sorrysorrysorry.

Sorry, child, we’re sorry.

.

The sun has set. It is dark. And you are still running through the forest, no inkling at all of how far you’ve gone and how far is left until you find your rescuer.

The night is eerie, enveloping you in a fog of oblivion, no perception of anything beyond this forest. Howling can be heard from a distance, or what you hope to be a distance. You’re hanging on by a thread, but only just. You don’t know how much longer you will last, you just know that you’ve passed the point of no return now. They would have been searching for you since the daylight began to dwindle. They are on their way.

There had been so many instances where you had just stopped, panting, and stared at your own two feet, wondering what the fuck you’re doing. Because where are you running to? Who is going to believe you when you tell them about the fucking vampires looking for you? Who is going to care about some crazy girl?

What is the point in running? Living, even?

But an instinct within you, the one sparked by this revelation, didn’t allow your legs to stop. The whole world is against you. The whole fucking world. Creatures of the Night are hunting you, the angels have abandoned you to a cruel spell, your family is rotting six feet under. No one is going to fight for you, except yourself.

You are a survivor.

Energy waning from the lack of food and the sparing gulps of water you had salvaged from a brooke, the only thing fuelling you is your adrenaline. At this time of night, your vision is no more than dark silhouettes of trees and rocks. Your limbs are numb. The only thing telling you that you haven’t stopped moving is the constant crunch of leaves beneath your feet, crisply ringing. Keep going. Just keep running.

Where are you?

You hear a voice, his voice. No, you don’t hear it, you sense it. You feel his worry, his fear.

Where did you go? Please.

They can’t possibly be near. Even with vampire speed, there’s no way that can catch up with you so quickly when you’ve been gone for hours.

Please.

The pleading makes your heart lurch. You stop, heaving over your knees.

Guilt. It’s the guilt. Why do you feel guilty for leaving? No, you don’t feel guilty, the bond is making you feel it. It’s trying to manipulate you.

I can’t lose you…

But that’s definitely his voice, his inner thoughts. Seokjin is afraid, panicked, in a frenzy to look for you. Genuine concern.

Maybe you should go back. What are you even doing anyway? Where are you going? There’s no purpose.

It also dawns on you that they will pick up on your scent right away. Even if they don’t find you tonight, everywhere you go, they will find you eventually. They had found you even though your aura had been muffled by your uncle’s abuse. They somehow found you. They are always going to find you.

Maybe you should give up. Just submit to them for the rest of your eternity. Either way, you would be suffering, the angels will see to that. Just give up.

Your fists tighten on your knees. It’s freezing cold; your clothes shredded by sharp grappling branches, the midnight breeze percolates pass the futile material and assails your skin. Thoughts racing at an uninterpretable speed, your lost purpose becomes blaringly apparent.

It’s not so bad in there.

Please be okay. Please come back. Don’t go.

They kind of care about you, in their own warped sense of what caring is. Right? They almost love you, some of them. Right? Right? Right? Right? Right?

I miss you. I’m coming for you. I love you.

Right?

Please be okay.

“SHUT UP!” You sob out loud. In the distance, your outburst scare away a flock of sleeping birds, their wings flapping in synchrony to your heartbeat. “Please just shut up.” As tears erupt like a dam, your slam your hands to your ears to shield you from the sound. But of course, it doesn’t stop. It isn’t a sound. It’s a feeling. It’s the sire bond telling your mind his emotions. “Shut up. Stop making this harder for me. Shut up.”

Falling onto your knees, you simply break. Every fibre of your mind is peeling away, your entity flaking into dust. The cold stings your damp cheeks, trickling down to your neck where you remember so vividly the feeling of their fangs.

They almost love you, some of them.

That’s good enough, right?

That’s better than… nothing.

More birds shriek into the silence of the night, so loud that you hear them clearly despite your covered ears.

Are they here? Already?

You keep crying, soil eating your crumpled frame.

And because of your sobs, your firmly shut eyes, your covered ears, you don’t hear the footsteps approach you until you sense a looming presence behind.

Here.

Which one is it?

Slowly, every inch of you trembling, you turn.

A shocked man stares at you in wide eyes. Some sort of camper or hiker judging by his attire.

Not here.

“Oh my god. Please help me. Please help me.” You crawl over to his feet, ignoring the protest of your exhaustion and your pitiful position. “Sir, please help.” Your luck has turned. Finally. You’re going to be okay. Finally. The tears fall harder.

“W-what happened? Are you hurt? Lost?” Gradually processing the dirt covered girl collapsed and crying at his feet, the man bends down and examines you in concern.

“Yes, please, just take me somewhere safe. Please, they’re going to find me.” The wash of relief almost overwhelms you to unconsciousness.

“You need to tell me what happened, little girl. You’re in shock. Who’s going to find you?”

In the dark, you can’t see well, but something in his eyes makes you trusting of him. It’s the genuine worry and care. What a normal man is supposed to look like. You’re saved. You’re finally saved.

“We have no time, just take me… take me to the police.” Your shaking hand grips at his fleece in desperation. You don’t know what you can tell him or the police, you don’t know anything more powerful than vampires than can protect you from them, but you can think about that later. You just need to go now.

“Okay, okay. Let me carry you.”

No. Child, no.

This time, it isn’t Seokjin’s voice. Someone else, like that faint chanting you occasionally hear.

“Thank you.” You shift into a position that better enables the man to reach under your legs. Behind him, you see a pack of black dogs, creeping warily towards you, sniffing. “Are those your dogs?”

“Yes, don’t worry, they are clever boys.”

When his palm touches the underside of your thigh, ice pierces into your skin.

No. Not him. Not safe.

You know that ice. You know that inhuman lack of body heat.

As he hoists you up, you nudge him away and roll back onto the ground. “Wait.” Moonlight illuminating part of his face, you survey his pale skin, his devilishly good looks. His brows pinch in confusion, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

Not human.

You glance over at the dogs again. Sleek black coat, long sharp ears, crimson eyes. Where their legs should meet the ground are misty shadows, like ghosts.

Not dogs.

The man’s lips quirk up. His camper’s attire dissipates like dust to reveal a black suit underneath.

You run.

Twigs snap beneath your feet as you sprint as fast as your calves allow, away from whatever they are. Your chest aches from fatigue, ankles screaming for you to stop. As you run, you ignore the branches reaching out to scratch your cheek, your arms. You hardly even feel the cuts against the twisting feeling of dread in your gut.

Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires.

Looking back, you see the man stood rooted where he is. He isn’t coming after you, but the smirk he wears is enough to tell you not to stop. But not long later, you realise why he isn’t chasing.

Growls, howls of excitement, absolute beastly noises erupt from left and right. The hounds are running at an astounding speed beside you, their pelts pitch black despite the moonlight that they should reflect. Jaws open, they pant at you wildly as they hunt you. Zigzagging between the trees to create a misleading path, you try to create as much distance from them as possible. But they’re quick things. Clever boys.

Soon, they are narrowing in on you, until the pack is an arrowhead surrounding you. The closest hound snaps his jaw at your ankle, barely missing you. The loud crunch from the collision of its canines as he shuts his jaw, you know your foot would have been gone if you had been one second slower. You don’t have time to yelp. You focus on running ahead, slipping between boulders and following your instinct for directions.

Where are you? You hear Seokjin once again.

I’m here! You try to scream down the bond. Save me.

You don’t know why. You don’t know why you are asking for help from the very ones you had been running from in the first place. But you just know that, whatever is hunting you, your fate would be much worse with them.

I’m coming. His utter distraught is gone, replaced by a calm composed determination instilled by the awaited reply from you at last. And you know at this moment that it was a mistake to flee. Seokjin at the very least, regardless of everyone else, would never harm you, would always look after you. Why did you leave? Why had you acted upon your deranged irrationality? We’re looking for you. Don’t worry.

Relief. Because that is a promise. And you trust him.

But now the guilt of fleeing from them kicks in. What the bond had made you feel every step you took, that ripping sensation as if you’re tearing apart something substantial, you can imagine being a mammoth’s weight worse for them with their heightened senses.

Something is chasing me. Please help me. I’m sorry.

His fear returns, this time a formidable wave wiping his away short-lived relief. What is chasing you?

Dogs, big black dogs. There was also this man.

Bloody hellhounds and a Drude demon. Shit.

You have no idea what those creatures are but you can tell by the explosion of terror in Seokjin that it’s some of the worse you could encounter.

Distracted by his disclosure, you misplace your foot on an uneven log and topple down, the bark you crash onto scraping fire against your skin. Pain explodes at the back of your skull where it hits something severe. You don’t see beyond a sea of pulsing black.

Then something rips into your leg. You don’t know if you are screaming.

.

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Tiny stars dance around the deep blue sky. They look pretty.

You think you hear something growling, whimpering maybe.

What is that leaking from you so briskly? Blood? Hmm.

Darkness.

.

You hear voices? Yes, voices. Unintelligibly arguing. But if you shut your eyes again and stop shifting on the ground, they could pass off as background music.

Then the volume grows. Fighting. Grunting. More Growling. More whimpering.

But you feel safe. You don’t know why but you feel safe. That’s how you know you’ve lost your mind for good. There are virtual flames burning around you, warmth licking at your broken body. Nothing can get past the flames. Nothing can hurt you. This phantom fire is shielding you.

You heart is burning too, fighting. Someone’s sireship is fuelling you, feeding you, forcing life back into you.

When you open your eyes, when a vaguely familiar face appears, hovering over you, obstructing your view of the towering treetops and wavering constellations. You can’t quite put of your finger on his name, but you know you’re safe.

His eyes are big, full of concern and trouble, his hair long, black, wavy but tucked behind his ears. A black liquid is splattered across him, some on his beautiful face that is taut in vexation.

You don’t protest when he carries you in strong sturdy arms, lifelessly flopping against his chest.

He is warm. Fire. Safe.

And then he is zooming past the trees, so fast the wind tickles at you violently, your limp body jostling. Though half unconscious, your eyes don’t leave him, studying his angular jaw, the round crook of his nose.

J…

A droplet of black liquid rolls off his chin and splats onto your arm. It tingles like weak acid, faintly sour, an unearthly sensation.

Your heavy lids seal you back into the darkness.

.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the softness around and under you. Arms from beneath you draw away, leaving your weight to sink into the bed. Your eyes stay shut.

Warmth is pressed onto your lips, gently, careful as if one hard prod would shatter you. Your throat knows to swallow the stream flowing into your mouth, its taste unfamiliar, but safe.

Warm. And safe.

Almost immediately, you feel its effects catapult into your system. Skin everywhere begins to sew back together, bones like toppled buildings building brick by brick, the chaos in your mind whispered to sleep. That protective fire around you blazing.

Still, you don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to. You can’t face them.

“Troublesome little shit.” He pushes the hair out of your face, touch possessing a surprising delicacy that contradicts his insult and completely entangles your preconceived conception of him. But his voice… So soothing like honey. Not what you expected.

You train your breath to be steadily slow, eyes to be unmoving under your closed lids, hoping to pass off as asleep. The silence creaks, followed by a rustle of bedding. Then you feel the heat of his breath stroke the tiny hairs on your forehead. You suppress a flinch. But he presses his lips onto your skin, so tenderly you almost open your eyes to see if it’s really Jungkook.

“Please don’t leave again.”

And then he’s gone.

❦

@taexxxiiaa @serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh  @unatempesta-dipensieri @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @queerloser17 @linyi-lovbts @somewhereinthestarss @xxqueenwxtchxx @whitefeatheredwyvern @embrace-themagic @brokencrownqueen @i-dont-even-know-fck @bangtandimples @kalkeegan @beetaeass @confessionsofascientist @chimycthulhu @hisunshiine @shooklier @livetay84 @runlikeabuffalo @nanna022 @berryjam17 @thelouhvre @bluemooncnblue @enigmaticlove-03 @lanu-la @bangtanfancamp @brbkpop @jiminisnotavirginrecs @samariakeeper @goodnightbug @dont-touch-me-fwit @tastelessfoolsbts  @queensavage1245 @laced-brds @ultraanonymousey @ashchats @godzillagirl-14 @lustremyg @animeshins @it-is-dana @itsavakent @strawberrym0chii @namchimtae @smoljams@brightenn @btsxdoll @d-noona @show-respect-to-your-queen @fyeebangtan@for-hobi @lx-leeta​ @thesoftuglies

❦

19/01/2020

© Copyright 2020

#bts #bts smut #bts vampire au #bts angst #bts fanfic #imagines #bts poly au #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon #namjoon vampire au #seokjin #jin #seokjin vampire au #yoongi #suga #yoongi vampire au #hoseok #jhope #hoseok vampire au #jimin #jimin vampire au #taehyung #bts v #taehyung vampire au #jungkook #jungkook vampire au #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #jin smut

[menalez]

tbh the reason ppl genuinely support you and like you on here vs the fake “support” (aka yes manship) given time other ppl on this site is due to two things: you seem like you answer all your asks (or at least acknowledge all of them) whereas other ppl will ignore asks even if they’re not like anon hate. I’m not saying ppl are entitled to have their asks answered, but the fact that you put actual thought into your reply and will post all of them is a huge pull for people 1/

this is so sweet 😭😭😭 i have been slacking w some asks so those of u that have sent me longer asks with ur takes or stuff from the news, ill be getting to it soon i promise! ive been kinda swamped w the recent irl drama u sadly saw a glimpse of on my blog, work, and searching for the best place to do my masters degree (wanted to do a DClinPsy in england but it’s way too expensive and also there’s hardly any places for international students :((( ), but i have seen a couple of messages and will be getting to them sometime soon!

as for the bit about me being real... as much as i wanna take credit for it, a lot of me being open & completely transparent is because of the gaslighting & trauma i had endured. it made me completely repulsed and terrified of having any association with lying & liars. and also the gaslighting fucked w my brain to the point where if i don’t somehow document my experiences, it’s quite easy to trick me into questioning my sanity & memory. and trauma has also fucked w my memory in the sense that i struggle to remember most of my day-to-day life too. SOOOO basically, im real for very very selfish reasons 🤪 frankly there’s some aspects of my past i wish never existed (like the two things you’ve mentioned, but even moreso how i used to treat my sister. that was the worst ive done to someone else and i hate that of all ppl it was my sister who went thru it bc she means more to me than anyone else)

hdhhdsse SORRY FOR RAMBLING AGAIN, but ur message is very sweet & i really appreciate that & the fact that that’s how someone perceives me means a LOT!

[daemienkaen]

Humility

I was asked by a mentor of mine to do some writing on humility and the different aspects of it in my life and I didnt have a notebook handy and the need to get it out has begun to overtake me. That being said I will use this forum still spill forth the churning contents of my intestines onto the face of the world. 

When I first think of humility, and I’m guessing a lot of people are the same way, I think of lessening myself, reducing my sense of self importance to a manageable level. This is definitely something that I need to apply in my life in the here and now. It is necessary for me to realize that my problems are not that big. That there is nothing that I’m going through that cannot be dealt with. That I am not a special snowflake as I commonly hear myself reminding others.

I am a human being and I go through many trials and tribulations in the day to day existence that I am in now. I am working 40 hours a week and going to school full time and still attempting to maintain something resembling a social life in the in between times. I have known a number of people that have accomplished this exact thing and yet I manage to tell myself that I am doing something that nobody around me is capable of doing? This is not how you keep your ego in check. This is how you allow your ego to devour your life and eventually your willpower.

I gloss over all the simple day to day stuff and let it get out of hand before i deal with them. I do work and school pretty well, but the cleaning and the bills and the laundry and showing the people in my life that they are important to me always seems to slip through the cracks. My ego has tunnel vision, my ego likes to tell me that I can’t accomplish those other things and yet still I keep separating myself from the people around me that manage to keep up with all those things and make it look like child’s play.

This is not the best time of year for me since it is getting darker and I know that I deal with some seasonal affective disorder. This is not the best time of year for me because I want to be with my kids taking this trick or treating and shopping for costumes and carving pumpkins and all that fun stuff. This is not the best time of year for me because I want more than I can have and more than I can handle even it seems.

I want to have a place of my own, and love in my life, and a good job, to be there for my kids every day, when I know it will never be that simple. The truth of the humility I need to have in my life is allowing myself to feel the pain that I have inside. I need to let myself have an outlet again. I need to stop acting like I’m immortal and allow myself to be human.

I hate myself on a regular basis and I will not show you. That the truth and that is the humility. There is a burning aching pit in my chest that I can never manage to clean out because I constantly get reminders from the little demons in my ears that I am not good enough and they laugh cruelly at me like all the kids at school that made fun of me for being different. They know all my secrets and they know exactly where to poke so that I will hurt the most.

Here is your humility. I am only human, but I want to be more. I want to be able to help lift up everyone around me. I have been in deeper pits than this and I can help people out of theirs, but I can’t do it alone. Can anyone?

I have never been perfect, and I am not supposed to be.

I was not made for silence, and I was made to see

You can tell me all the things Ive done wrong

You can recount all my faults

But it wont keep me from moving forward

It wont silence my song

#journal #humility #pain #depression #loss

[lysitheaioandeuropa]

ALL THE MYTHOLOGY ASK BINCH

i can’t believe this is from a month ago lol

Anubis: How do you feel about death?- I’m not quite sure you know. i don’t think anything happens after, which makes being suicidal all the time a little easier. i just feel like everything stops. like you literally just go to sleep forever, at least one would hope. losing people though it really fucking sucks and is rly hard trauma to come to terms w.

Atum: What are your greatest imperfections?- I’m a fat obese binch w no fucking self control, next

Bastet: Do you have any cats?- no bc I’m deathly allergic, but i wish i could

Hathor: What brings you joy?- lmao at my old answer for this. sandy, I love her so so so much. she licked my tears away today which I know may seem gross but was p therapeutic and it helped and then i napped. i need to finish her emotional support registration bc i can’t imagine my life without her now

Horus: What is one thing you’ve had to fight for in your life?- every single fucking thing. i had to fight to go to college, fight to move out, fight to be treated like an equal to my peers, fight for simple material shit like a car and comfortable enough place. fight and work for love so so so hard. i wish i had just ONE (1)! thing come easy to me. i was kinda bright growing up but that’s about it?

Osiris: Do you believe in the underworld?- i do ship hades and persephone all the fucking way, have that pomegranate and get ya mans girl rule that underworld and be the best mom cerberus will ever know

Ra: Do you have any major responsibilities or importance?- just to pay my bills on time and not die or starve. show up to work every day, and take rly rly rly rly good care of my dog, i spoil her i know i do and i know it’s bad but i need it and you can tell she didn’t come from a god home before so she deserves it

Thoth: Do you like to read/write?- i love it, i really genuinely do. i just don’t have that kind of energy anymore THOUGH the few times i do it’s so fuckin therapeutic and i feel brand new

Arawn: What is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever done?- i guess pick up and move across the state on my own, TWICE. falling in love w my gf is a close second, as is my relationship before that bc i was fucking terrified both times. first was fear of the unknown and fear of something so new, and now was.. fear of the same, as well as.. fear of being uncomfortable, fear of starting over.. and not just my love life but every other aspect of my life as well. it felt like i picked up and threw out the whole (previous) relationship. not in an “idc” sense, but i couldn’t bear to be in same apt, the same job, the same spaces whatsoever. it was terrifying to keep living afterward. everything else ive done has just been shit i thought i had to do to get by. not confront abusers, work hard for literally ANYTHING i wanted, etc. sidenote, i also went through a rly bad reckless behavior bpd phase and some of the things i did were very unlike me and  slightly terrifying in retrospect. i feel like it was me trying to take control of something, ANYTHING, but still didn’t work.

Bran: How is your health?- physically, shit; mentally, shit. lmao. i can confidently say i am working on both though

Brighid: Tell us about your relationship with your father.- it has had its fair share of ups and downs. my father raised me as a single dad and he was great at it. i had birthday parties, i had the books, shoes, toys i wanted - even if it meant waiting a little more than everyone else bc my dad worked hard and only made so much for us both. my dad having to do all that came totally left field for him i imagine and he fucking rose to the occasion. somewhere down the line he did begin to resent my mother and i when she wandered back around, and i know he didn’t like that i chose her every time even though she paid me no mind and he was a doting parent. i went a couple years without talking to either of my parents, but we’re all actually pretty good now. my mom has made up for a lot and she’s not perfect bt she’s still trying and i can say the same for my dad as well

Cernunnos: What is your favorite animal?- pandas, otters, and puppies are god tier. koalas, giraffes, hedgehogs (no sonic), and chinchillas are also up there

Danu: What is your relationship with your mother?- i guess you can read above.. but basically it was shit before and now we get along but I don’t tell her anything you know. she still thinks I’m straight, a virgin, and have never had one (1) alcohol, deadass.  however, she’s still comforting? I wanted her to stay longer this weekend, I felt she’d help me hold it together even if I couldn’t tell her what was wrong

Morrigan: What do you think happens when we die?- first question. but basically you slip into a comfortable coma

Olwen: What is your favorite flower?- sunflowers

Rhiannon: Have you ever been betrayed?- I have felt betrayed before, yes. sidenote i hate that this is Rhiannon. 

Bragi: What kind of music do you listen to?- just about everything but fuck country music. maroon 5’s new album is rly good

Freya: Have you ever been in love?- yes i have and this shit has hurt every single fucking time, lol. and it always feels like it can never hurt more, but each time has been infinitely worse than the previous for me

Freyr: Do you have any children?- my daughter, sandy

Hœnir: Are you a silent or talkative person?- silent. I hardly talk, I’m not rly verbal, though when I have to front like I am I’m pretty good at it. but if it were up to me I wouldn’t talk at all. though there times (especially when manic) that i can go on and on and on. that was rly easy w my bf before and helped as far as better developing how to express myself verbally/communicating in general 

Iounn: How old are you?- can we not talk about my age and the existential crisis I have every time I think of it, thanks

Loki: What is the best trick you’ve ever pulled on someone?- i don’t really pull tricks and shit like that

Odin: What is your family like?- nonexistent

Thor: Would you consider yourself pretty powerful?- i am A WEAK BINCH!!!!!

Tree: What have you done with your life? What are you going to do with it?- I haven’t done much of anything. I just want to make money, pay off debts, own some pets, live comfortably.. be skinny

Aphrodite: What do you think of yourself?- I don’t think much of myself which has been identified as such a grande problem by others & by those who actively validate that so…

Ares: Are you an easy person to anger?- I wouldn’t think that I am, but it doesn’t take much for me to split on someone

Athena: Would you consider yourself an artist?- not much of one anymore

Apollo: Do you play any instruments?- piano, bassoon, sax, bass clarinet, french horn/mellophone

Dionysus: Do you drink?- I like red wine & henny

Hades: Do you have a bad reputation?- i sure fucking do now bitch

Hekate: Have you ever tried to communicate with the dead?- caucasian activities bruh

Hermes: Have you ever stolen anything?- walmart self checkout more like optional check out you feel me

Poseidon: Are you a moody person?- hi, i have bpd. (no this isn’t me justifying any behavior or whatever, but it quite literally is the reason why I’m “”””””””moody”””””””)

Zeus: Are you a confident person?- fuck no, next. i mean okay, i can be, fake confident, and i used to really have an air of confidence about me befroe but no longer do and it saddens me. petition to bring back 2k14 claudia tbh

Jupiter: Would people say that you are intimidating or fairly approachable?- I believe I’m approachable but I’ve been told I have chronic RBF and am incredibly intimidating and completely UNapproachable. my kids didn’t seem to think that when I taught though so that was cool

Pluto: Where do you think we go when we die?- i hope the underworld

Apollo & Dianna: Do you prefer to be up during the day or at night?day, i def wish i can get more done bc night is sleep time

Mars: Have you ever gotten into a fight?- both verbal and physical altercations

Minerva: Do you generally give good advice?- “dump him sis”

Proserpine: Have you ever felt trapped?- yes, mostly by my mental illness(es)

Plutus: Do you have a job?- yes, thank god

Venus: Have you ever had your heart broken?- of course, it’s broken right the fuck now binch!

Vesta: Do you like being home or do you try to get out whenever you can?- I’m a fucking SLUT for being home bitch omg. but at the same time i like traveling and getting our but i def prefer lowkey things. bookstores, wine tasting, shit like that

Morpheus: Do you daydream often? Of what?- of a lot more like having a sense of stability and whatnot. being loved completely and wholeheartedly 500% mutual healthy devotion. i want someone to invest in me

#asks #personal #inthemoodforlovee

[rjhamster]

The Berean - Deuteronomy 12:29-32

(29) "When the LORD your God cuts off from before you the nations which you go to dispossess, and you displace them and dwell in their land, (30) take heed to yourself that you are not ensnared to follow them, after they are destroyed from before you, and that you do not inquire after their gods, saying, "How did these nations serve their gods? I also will do likewise." (31) You shall not worship the LORD your God in that way; for every abomination to the LORDwhich He hates they have done to their gods; for they burn even their sons and daughters in the fire to their gods. (32) "Whatever I command you, be careful to observe it; you shall not add to it nor take away from it. New King James Version   Change your email Bible version

Halloween is a custom of the nations. God Himself calls such things abominations, practices that He hates. If we strip away its façade of revelry and feasting, it is idolatrous false worship, honoring spirit beings that are not God. In addition, God never tells us to celebrate this day or in any way to honor the spirits of the dead.

Notice that He warns us not to be "ensnared to follow" the practices of the nations. A snare is a trap designed to catch an unwary animal. The trap itself is hidden, but what is visible is a kind of lure, an attractive trick designed to fool the prey into entering the trap. Once it takes the bait, the gate comes down, a hook comes out, or a spring slams closed on a limb, and the prey is trapped.

God is alerting us to the fact that heathen or ungodly practices—customs, ways of worship, traditions, celebrations—usually have characteristics that appeal to our human nature. They are the lures. We can become caught up in them before we are aware of it. God advises us to watch out for the hidden dangers, the appealing entrapments, that are designed into these holidays.

Many cultures have a form of Halloween in their tradition. It seems that most of this world's peoples desire to celebrate the dead. The holidays or feasts may vary from place to place, falling on different days and following different customs. The common denominator is that they all honor or remember the dead or unseen spirits.

Mexico has its "Day of the Dead" in which participants give out candies in the shape of skeletons and visit graveyards to commune with the dead by leaving them food. In Japan, they honor their ancestors with various celebrations. Certain African tribes set aside days to honor the unseen spirits, warding off the evil ones and placating the good. German, Scandinavian, Spanish, Italian, and many other cultures have a Halloween-type holiday.

In English-speaking countries, Halloween derives primarily from the Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced "sow-in"). Samhain, held on the three days around November 1, was a kind of New Year's celebration and harvest festival all rolled up into one.

The Celts believed that these three days were special because of the transition from the old year to the new. They felt that during this time the boundary between the physical and spiritual worlds relaxed or lifted, allowing spirits to cross over more easily. This idea, of course, terrifies superstitious people—that departed spirits could walk among us, especially those who died in the past year as it was thought these spirits desired to return to the mortal realm. For this reason, they believed they had to appease the spirits to make them go into the spirit world and stay there.

The Celts did this by putting out food and treats so that, when these spirits came floating by their houses, they would pass on. They thought that, if they did not appease the spirits, they would play tricks or put curses on them. Whole villages would unite to drive away the evil spirits, ensuring that the upcoming year would be good. Others among them would hold séances or conduct other kinds of divination by incantation, potion, or trance to contact dead ancestors in hope of receiving guidance and inspiration.

An interesting aspect of this transition time—the three days of Samhain—is that it was considered to be "no time," a time unto itself. Thus, it became a tradition that the order and the rules by which people lived were held in abeyance during them.

All laws went unenforced. The social order was turned upside-down—the fool became king, and the king became the fool. Men dressed as women and vice-versa. People took on different personas, dressing in disguise and acting the part. No work was done during this period of total abandon, for it was a time for revelry, drinking, eating, making and taking dares, and breaking the law. In a word, it was chaos.

Then Roman Catholicism arrived on the scene and "converted" the pagans. It also decreed a day to honor departed saints: May 13, All Saints' Day. The priests instructed the "converted" pagans to keep All Saints' Day, but they continued to celebrate Samhain because it was so much more fun than attending church to pray for the hallowed saints of yesteryear.

To keep them in the fold, in AD 835 Pope Gregory IV officially authorized moving All Saints' Day to November 1 to coincide with Samhain. He allowed the pagan "Christians" to keep their old customs as long as they put a gloss of Christianity on them. Thus, they kept Samhain in the name of Christ to honor the departed saints.

Like Samhain, All Saints' Day began the evening before, which was called All Hallows' Eve, All Saints' Eve, or Halloween. Since then, Halloween has evolved into its present form, in which nothing remotely Christian remains. It is known for all its pre-Christian Celtic practices—particularly the recognition of the spirit world in the form of fairies, witches, ogres, goblins, demons, ghouls, vampires, etc.

Today, "trick-or-treating" is the most recognized of Halloween activities, and it is simply a form of extortion. Children, whether they know it or not, are acting as the spirits who will play a trick or put a curse on the one who does not pay up in food or treats. Divination and séances are also commonly held on October 31. Hooliganism—tricks resulting in vandalism—often reaches its high point on Halloween. For many years, Detroit was the scene of "hell night," in which rampaging young people trashed large areas of the city, setting fires, smashing cars and windows, looting, and generally creating havoc.

The Celtic feast of Samhain still survives in Halloween. It has simply reverted to our ancestors' Celtic practice.

— Richard T. Ritenbaugh

[themoneybuff-blog]

The Road to the Fortress of Solitude

A few years ago, a movie called The Gambler came out, starring Mark Wahlberg. It was a decent movie Im not here to do movie reviews but there was one portion in the middle where a minor character played by John Goodman gives a monologue about what a person should do if they find themselves up a couple of million dollars. Heres that speech, but be aware its full of adult language. The point of Goodmans monologue in the movie is that if a person ever finds themselves with a couple of million dollars, that person should build their fortress of solitude. In his terms, that consists of a decent house with a good roof, a reliable car, and the rest of the money put away in investments that will very reliably return a few percent per year. Lets say you have $2 million. You buy a $300,000 house with a good roof on it, buy a reliable $40,000 car, and put the other $1.66 million away in an investment and withdraw 3% a year, which is basically $50,000 a year, for the rest of your life. At that point, you basically dont have to work for a living any more. You dont have to put up with being treated poorly by an employer you can just walk and youll be fine. You can try new things and see if they work out. Furthermore, if you do manage to earn some more money beyond that, you can take some risks with it. You can invest in your brothers dream of running a restaurant. You can help your computer whiz nephew to start a dot-com business that hes been tossing around. You can invest deeply in a particular collectibles market that youve always enjoyed because it scratches some nostalgic itch. I wrote about the actual ins and outs of this plan a couple years ago, because Sarah and I are basically aiming to have our own fortress of solitude at roughly the exact moment our youngest child leaves the nest. However, rather than talking about the goal, I want to talk about the road to the fortress of solitude. Work, Luck, and Risk In my experience, there are basically three elements that play into what your financial journey will look like. The first element is work. Are you willing to work hard in order to earn money? Are you willing to make hard choices to preserve the money you earn, meaning you choose not to spend it on frivolous things? Are you willing to work evenings and weekends to do a little more than the next person? Are you investing your time into skills that you can use directly to earn more? The second element is luck. Luck indeed has a lot to do with the hand youre dealt the situation into which you were born, the genetics handed to you by your parents, and so on. The trick is to ignore that luck and focus instead on the unexpected events in your life going forward from here. What are you doing to ensure that bad events are less likely and have less impact? What are you doing to ensure that good events are more likely and have greater impact? You cant force bad events not to happen or good events to happen, but you certainly can take action to alter the odds a little, reduce the impact of bad events, and improve the impact of good events. The third element is risk. Are you willing to take a chance at a bad result in order to improve the typical result or have a chance at an incredible result? Are you willing to take on a job thats incredibly challenging where you might utterly fail, but it gives you a chance to succeed spectacularly (like, say, joining a startup)? In general, the lower the risk, the lower your income is, but the more stable it is. A really stable job might give you a very high chance of reaching your fortress of solitude in 20 years, but very little chance of getting there in ten. A risky job might give you some chance of getting there in ten years, some chance of getting there in twenty, and some chance of basically never getting there. Those three elements work together and play off of each other in determining your long term financial success. If you dont work hard, take risks, and cultivate luck, its going to be very challenging to build up a fortress of solitude. You need to do all of those things to some degree to build a strong financial path. Here are some thought on each of those areas and what Ive done to use those elements in building my own fortress of solitude. The Elements of Work For me, work refers to any situation youre doing something other than what youd otherwise want to be doing for the sake of earning money or other resources that you can turn into greater opportunities later. If Im doing something I wouldnt otherwise be doing if I werent being compensated, Im working. Sometimes, people do get paid for doing things theyd otherwise be doing. I look at people who sleep on the job and get paid or people who have work tasks they should be doing but are otherwise looking at social media or doing online shopping as examples of this. Those people would likely be sleeping or web browsing if they werent at work, to be quite honest. The thing is, during those times, theyre not contributing any value to their workplace and that path is likely not leading to any future opportunities of note. Theres also a wide range of work difficulty. Some work is very physically or mentally demanding, leaving you exhausted at the end of the day. Some work is simple and you dont feel drained after spending several hours working. Ive worked at all kinds jobs that didnt really deplete me at all, jobs that were physically demanding, jobs that were mentally demanding, and a few things that were both. My experience has been that in general (with some impact from luck and risk), the harder you work, the better your financial rewards are most of the time, in both the short term and the long term. If you go to work and bust your rear end, people notice and that ends up benefiting your career most of the time. If you start a business and work hard to make it successful, youre much more likely to find some degree of success with that business most of the time. For example, the hardest Ive ever worked in a traditional job occurred in the early to mid 2000s, where I singlehandedly built a rather large software project used by a lot of people. This resulted in a very stable job, a lot of offshoot consulting gigs, and a strong professional reputation. The hardest Ive ever worked on a side gig was The Simple Dollar, which ended up more successful than I could have ever dreamed. I worked hard at other things and didnt work particularly hard at others, but I almost entirely found that the level of success was strongly linked (though not absolutely linked) to my genuine hard work. Work smart. Work hard. If you do that, youre very likely to reliably earn money and have plenty of opportunity to earn more. Remember, at any given moment, youre competing with others. Some of those people work harder than you, while others work a lot less than you. Which of those groups is more likely to get a raise or a promotion? Which of those groups is more likely to get a pink slip? So, what can you do? When you go into work, work hard. If your tasks are complete, put in effort to improve your skill set or take on another task. If you dont know what to do, sit down with your boss and talk about a plan that will take you toward a raise or promotion, and then when you dont have an obvious task to do, work on that plan. If you have a big project coming up, get as much as you can done early in the project cycle so that crunch time isnt devastating. If youre not willing to do this, you shouldnt expect the rewards that will come to those who do. The Elements of Luck Luck, in my terms, simply refers to events outside of your control that can affect your life in some respect. Good luck includes events outside of your control that have a positive effect, while bad luck includes events outside of your control that have a negative effect. A key thing to remember is that luck is an element of life thats partially under your control and partially out of your control. While you cant control the actions of others or the impact of unexpected events, you can certainly shape and guide those actions and the impacts that they have on you. For example, if you build a strong, positive professional network and social network, youre introducing not only a lot of possible opportunities for good luck in your life, youre also providing some protection against bad luck. A professional network and social network will often advocate positively for you when youre not around, point you toward opportunities, and provide help when you encounter a difficult period. Ive written extensively in the past about things you can do to improve your luck, both in terms of minimizing chances of bad luck and maximizing chances of good luck (as well as your ability to take advantage of good luck). The Elements of Risk Risk, in my terms, simply means the amount of exposure to danger that some aspect of your life has. I often see it as the exposure of some of the fruits of your hard work to the vagaries of luck. Life itself has some risk we always have a chance to lose things we care about but we have a ton of choices in front of us to increase or decrease risk in our lives. For example, if you go through life without an emergency fund, you expose a lot of your life to a higher level of risk. If you build an emergency fund, you reduce the exposure of a lot of your life to risk. You can choose to put your money in risky investments or in not-so-risky investments. If youre relying on having that money going forward, then youre putting other elements of your life at risk as well; if you can manage in life without that money, then youre actually contributing less overall risk to that investment. There are times when it makes sense to lower our level of risk, such as when the bad effects of an outcome we dont want are way more painful than the good effects of an outcome we do want. There are other times when taking a risk can pay off, such as when the good effects of the outcome we want are far more beneficial than the bad effects of the outcome we dont want. For example, Im not interested in risking my childrens safety, no matter what the price, so Im going to do things that will likely cost me time and money to minimize risks to them. On the other hand, if Im spending my spare time writing a piece of fiction that I hope to sell or submit to awards contests, theres much less downside to taking a huge risk with that writing. What do I have to lose? The Overlaps of Work, Luck, and Risk Its the overlap of those three elements that ends up defining a lot of what we have in life. A hard worker is likely to have better outcomes than the person who doesnt work much at all. A person who has cultivated good luck is likely to have better outcomes than the person who hasnt cultivated good luck. A person who decreases the risk on things that are important and increases risk only on things that arent a big deal to them is likely to have better outcomes than the person who is risky with everything or risk-averse with everything. None of those things are a guarantee, of course, but if you line them all up side by side, you end up with a pretty clear recipe for building a path to your fortress of solitude and beyond. Work hard. Dont sit around idling unless its leisure time or youre genuinely preparing yourself for meaningful action. When you dont have an immediate task on your plate, take on a task to improve yourself or improve your situation. Have a plan in place that takes you to where you want to go next in life and put genuine, consistent effort toward successfully completing that plan. Do things that create good luck in your life. Build strong, positive relationships with people that last and put in effort to sustain them over time by touching base frequently. When you have a good idea, stop and write it down and actually take action on it later. Find mentors. Be a mentor to others. Treat other people as you would like to be treated at all times, regardless of whether you know them or not. Avoid things that create bad luck in your life. Dont talk negatively about others, particularly behind their back. Dont burn bridges when a situation changes. Dont sabotage others. Dont treat the world as though it only has one winner in reality, the pie grows over time, so your slice will, too. Dont put things that are really important at risk. Have an emergency fund. Make sure that you and the people you rely on always have the fundamentals for a good life available to them. Dont engage in unethical behavior. Dont do things that could damage your reputation if they were found out. Take risks with things that are less essential. Write that novel with that surprising element. Step up to that hard task at work you wont get fired if you work hard at it but it doesnt quite turn out. Ask that girl or that guy out on that date the worst thing that happens is she says no, and then youre basically back where you started anyway. Haggle on the price of that item. The Synergy If youre doing all of those things together, youre building your fortress of solitude, even if you dont have a lot of money in the bank just yet. You are on a path to a point in your life where the key things you need are secure and youre able to say no to a lot more things than you were in the past because you dont need that money thats dangling in front of you. It starts with working hard, building good luck, downsizing bad luck, minimizing risk to the important things, and amping up risk to the less important things. Those are the core elements on the road to success, whatever that success might be. You can do this. You have the tools. You just need to make the choices every day. You need to work hard. You need to build good luck and minimize bad luck. You need to manage risk smartly. Do that, and youll have your dreams. Do that, and youll have your fortress of solitude. https://www.thesimpledollar.com/the-road-to-the-fortress-of-solitude/