#don't practice these things or in most cases condone them! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenebrisdivina · 7 months

Note

I have some questions that are probably very juvenile to someone of your experience. I have worked with and spoken to only a few demons in the past, notably Orobas, Egyn, and Amaymon, the first two of which were pleasant, and the last not so much (extremely awry). I did not bind them and do not wish to. For one I wonder, have you ever had psychosis/obsession/other severe ill effect induced from a demon you were in contact with, or other odd but not necessarily harmful things, like specific cravings (ex. blood)? How do you approach the spirits that induce harm or delusion, or do you just leave them be? I have wanted to revisit demons but my very negative experience with Amaymon has made me wary of them entirely unless my patron is actively condoning the interaction. Is it just a case of proper caution and non-aggressive protection, or is there anything more that could help me avoid a bad experience going forward? (For context I do not recall doing anything that could have offended, other than being an easily manipulated idiot at the time. I didn't have demands, I sought to just speak and build a relationship to begin with, but I fell into a very bizarre state of mind and ill health that only improved when I separated Amaymon from me, and in hindsight sense that it was extremely aggressive, but I do not know what prompted it, if anything.) Thank you for reading.

thankyou for your ask; this is a bit of a long response as i don't know much about your practices or how you actually connected to the demonic etc

To be clear I have not worked with nor connected to any of the demons you have mentioned. Also just to disclaim here; I am not judging the situation nor what happened I am neutral in this; so if my comments come off as judgmental sounding this is not what I meant.

I wonder first of all how did you specifically go about connecting with Them? And what methods did you use? as that may have an effect on what happens. Secondly sometimes a certain demons energy is “too much” in that it is not compatible with our own energies which can make things harder as well. Sometimes demonic energy can induce certain reactions in the humans energy, and it needs an adjustment period. You also mention “separate Amaymon from you” does this mean you tried possession or some such? All this said I do not know enough about the practices nor circumstances to say much more on this.

However it seems to me that it was likely a parasite or being masking as Lord Amaymon, rather then the demonic divine being Himself. (this is actually more common then sometimes is realized) In my view and experience the Dark Lords do not attack/ harm someone who is just connecting with them, and also for no reason. They have better things to do then attack people and have little interest in such a thing. If they are uninterested or have an issue with the person, most likely they will not come through at all. This is not to say that the event did not happen or wasn’t harrowing, just that it may not be as clear as it seemed to be and it may not have been the DL. Within darker energies there can be more room for other things to step into and act as other beings sometimes.( I am writing a post about this soon)

Demonic divine beings in general (especially those known about by humans) do not seek to malevolently harm humans. In my view it is extremely rare that a Demonic Divine Dark Lord would do something unwarranted. For the most part excepting specific demons and demonic races (which tbh humans are not in contact with and they are not known or listed in grimoires) if the Demonic Divine does something like this it can ( and tbh usually is) be a form of teaching, even if it is particularly harrowing. Sometimes the more “egoic” human mindset is not something important to the DL ( at that time) - if there is a lesson that “needs” to happen. Again, I do not know the specifics so I cannot say for certain about your circumstances. It could potentially be helpful ( if you so choose) to re-evaluate the issue from a different perspective. I am also not of the belief that demons are always going to; be nice, care about you, “light, love” pleasant or amicable even. They can even just not like people and energetically not be compatible. They are individuals as well. All this said; even if there is an issue ( potentially)- I am using this going forward as if it was Amaymon but I personally do not think it actually was) with one demon, does not mean there will automatically be issues or you would be treated poorly by the others of the demonic divine, given they are individual, autonomous beings and keep their own council. It is also possible the demon does not want a connection either.

On to your questions. To note also; if someone/thing seems to be truly inducing actual psychosis and delusion etc ( for legal reasons I need to say this and I do think its important to check to) look to deal with the mundane first and check with a medical profession, to clear that up and make sure it’s not something mundane.

But beyond that;

For the first part yes, I have one specific Dark Lord that I work with does this and I am connected to a few others as well who do this. Before connecting with this Dark Lord I was aware He was like this. The circumstances of our relationship are unique however- but in working with Him, it has definitely been a learning curve. For me personally, I chose to keep being in a relationship with this being and so taught myself to understand His and Their viewpoints and be accepting of it. I think truly, it is a personal decision as to why you want the relationship or to choose to stay in it. It does require developing a new understanding of things and being open to seeing things in a new way.

It is helpful to consider when working with otherworldy beings; is this a chosen behavior on their part or is it just their nature or energies? So; I would question going forward – what is it you are wanting from this being and perhaps it could be gotten from someone else or there are other options? If there are no other options- assuming They (are open to connecting and working with you in the first place and it is a chosen behavior) and They continue treating you that way; are you prepared for that and learning to deal with it? ( with this I am mainly meaning god-level beings- who are not easily dealt with)

I think however in general terms; that unless you are willing to “adapt” or deal with such interactions (because sometimes it is simply Their nature or energies as well), then beings like this ( who treat you this way) should be left alone- unless there is a specific and good reason to go and interact with them. For example: if there is something you can only get from interacting with them- mostly with the demonic divine however and deities- there are others who are within the same ”wheelhouse” so to speak- that could be more amenable and “easier” to work with and you can ask to be guided to Them as well. If you do continue to interact with these beings then I think you should be open and aware of possibly being “hurt” by this, as it can just be their way, and it is something to consider. It is a choice.

Otherworldy beings in general are not like humans and don’t have the same mindsets, proclivities, values, energies etc. the further you go away from human earthen realm the more obvious and potentially more dangerous it is. So what is important to the human may not be to them. Yes, you can try to protect yourself and if you chose to keep working with them, then setting boundaries around what is and isn’t appropriate for you is important. Knowing your limits for example if it is a dangerous energy. One should also not “expect” to be cared for or about by otherworldy beings either. By this I mean, that if one truly wants to interact with otherworldy beings who are further away from the humans realms (and demonic can be) that viewing things from a human-centric perspective is quite unhelpful. So also try to learn and understand where the being is coming from. Sometimes however, you just can’t and that’s okay- we can’t comprehend everything and the human brain can’t either.

In my experience as much as some mages like to think they are powerful or god like etc they really aren’t, especially in comparisons to a DL. It is my view that Demonic divine cannot be bound or controlled period and what the Solomonic grimoire authors bound was not truly the demonic divine.

For protection; it is often more helpful to know yourself deeply and to know what you can and cannot tolerate. I do think that asking your patron for aid in this is helpful and a good idea, your protection should really be specific to you. The way I view it is, if you are actually connecting with a demonic divine being and something is going awry or feels that way to you, simply ask them to leave or stop and they most often will ( sometimes we have to learn how to say “no” though). If they ( the demonic divine being) does not- then ask what is the point of them doing this to you, what needs to be learnt through this, if anything?- as it is often a good reason for this. Most often if you make it known you don’t want this and ask them to leave they will ( if they are divine being, a parasite etc will not).

Basic protection should be practiced in general; shielding, grounding, cleansing, warding the space as part of usual routine. Have you looked at S Connoly’s work at all( she is very good for basic working with demons ins a respectful manner)? Sometimes in demonolatry ritual an elemental circle is called upon- but it is to balance the energies- not to protect you from the demonic.

If you did choose to interact with someone who induces harm and delusion- it is still important to understand why you are approaching them. Do you want the delusion experience? If so then you wouldn’t try to combat it. If you do not - then training yourself to “see clearly” would be helpful- I don’t just mean clairvoyance- I mean actually using the third eye to be attuned to the “truth” of a thing and understanding the many layers of realities/ illusions etc. This will take time though. I would strongly recommend doing shadow work to help with protection and as a good practice in general. If the being truly produces delusion- then knowing your own self very well can be very helpful for seeing through this. It is also important to cleanse regularly for delusional energies and work on your third eye too. Another thing to consider (it wasn’t clear in the ask) perhaps the “delusion” and harm (if it was demonic divine being) could have actually been a clearing of energies? But I don’t know enough about your current practices to really say.

For avoiding a poor experience going forward, using a divination practice- even just a pendulum can be helpful for determining whether to work with beings or not. Communing also with those otherworldly beings you trust like your patron perhaps to check to see if this is someone you should work with or not, can be helpful. Also trusting your gut too with what you are feeling- this usually gives a good guide as to whether something is “good” for you or not. You can also determine over longer term if something is beneficial to you or not- by looking at how your life is going, is it “improving (by your own standards)” or not? But this is nuanced to the individual. Nothing is truly guaranteed, however. So observing in the moment and longer term can be helpful. Sometimes also we are drawn to more “harmful” things to learn something from it, even if its only on how to set good boundaries or stand up for ourselves etc. But everyone’s journey is individual. It can also be helpful in the aftermath of such a hazardous experience to do energy healing work as well, or other methods and the ground, cleanse, centre etc.

Also for going forward and working with demons- you could try to choose which demons you are interested in ( from looking at the different hierarchy lists) via gut feeling of being drawn to them, via divination or via looking at what you want to achieve or work on and who could help with that. As you mentioned a good experience with the first two demons you contacted then maybe contacting Them again to try small steps back in to approaching this work. Or you could look to some other of the demonic that are known to be okay with beginners- as they may help with working up to connecting with others. It is okay to take your time with it though and not rush it if it feels like too much. If casting an elemental circle (from S Connoly’s work) can help you to feel safer or better about contacting the demonic then that is helpful to do, when calling upon the particular demonic. (while I don’t know your practice my advice is please do not use the mirror method- the demonic do not like it and you end up with weird energies from it). You could also (if into magick) create a sigil or small talisman you charge with protective and guiding energies to have with you at the time of contact. I would suggest also gaining knowledge about a strong banishing technique as well, if you do not already know one (and calling on your patron to help with this, or even asking your patron to protect you when connecting as well). I use a modified satanic LBRP ( calls upon demonic not angelic beings) along with usually cleansing and balancing. Placing wards around the space you are connecting could be helpful as well. And these protective techniques are not so much to be “used against” the demonic divine- but rather to keep the riffraff out, so you can be more likely to get the correct being coming through. These techniques like banishing etc would be more like the “big- guns” though, but it is still useful to know. Though in my view it doesn’t banish true demonic divine beings, for them asking them ( poiltely and sometimes firmly) to leave is enough. For general banishing feeling the power or your Will and command (as a divine being as well) will work well for just about everything.

Because you did have a harrowing experience with one of the ”demonic,” it is normal to feel apprehensive, so try to go easy on yourself with this and it doesn’t need to be rushed.

I am happy to offer other advice or help if needed. And I apologise for the length, there is a lot to cover in this ask. Hope this helps somewhat.

others who see this: This answer is just for this person and the ask, please do not apply it generally

3 notes · View notes

louiscarrotsxoxo · 1 year

Text

blue ice | chapter one: a melancholy night

❝I could tell you what you wanna hear 'cause the truth is always in the way I never wanna live in fear I don't wanna hold back all the things I need to say❞

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

CHAPTER ONE: A MELANCHOLY NIGHT

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

A/N: This story holds acts of mature content and psychopathic behavior, this is your one and only warning of such behaviors and acts, this story has been written and fleshed out through the dark escapades of my mind and those throughout the brigade, welcome to my madness, welcome to my light, welcome to my cursed darkness.

Second of all: If you have not read the first chapter with the character casts lists, I recommend you go back a step and read that, it is very important to the story.

**This Novel is a Larry Stylinson LGBTQ+ crime-romance-mystery novel, with acts of homosexual parts practically embedded into it, if it is not your cup of tea, kindly move along**

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone ANY of the actions in this book or relate them to the characters in real life in ANY way, please do not think I am misrepresenting the people behind the characters in such a way.

For my sanity and others: If anyone chooses to read this for a second, third, fourth time etc., DO NOT LEAVE SPOILERS FOR FIRST TIME READERS IN THE COMMENTS, any comments of those will be removed.

Author

The lands of the lost and the isles of the forgotten bustled with business as if they had never before. The storm of unforgiving merciless proportions ripped through the lands of the cold climate, desperately looking for relief and solace, here lies their souls of those who sought to fight another battle, in the aftermath.

In Doncaster, UK, the police station that has solved many crimes that would have stayed and collected dust in the crime unit’s file room. But, just as fate may have it, one soul picked amongst the rest sought to catch the one thing that kept him human. That reminded his own flesh and blood his heart was beating.

Louis Tomlinson.

The sound of a fresh new case breaking the brigades of the station is what breaks him out of thought, sitting pretty, and searching for any new perpetrators to catch in the act, is where it all begins.

Louis ponders to himself as to what it might be, stepping slowly out of his train of thought, perpetually forever in wonder of what might happen next. His past slowly seeping into his future as if it was drops of poisonous honey dangling on the edge of the tongue of trepidation.

He swallows thickly, taking in the atmosphere as sweat begins to gather on his brow, despite being on the force of public justice for so long, he still gets the thoughts of what could be lurking around the next corner of each case in the back of his mind.

Always wondering, always thinking of the next heart shattering, mind boggling case that could fly through those doors. The hunger for something new always plagued him with a taste for justice and vindication, proving he was the best of the best was simply what he did, best.

Though Louis wasn’t cocky, he was giving to people in his life. And even to those he would never see the day after, he always made sure to put kindness forward. Even if he had to deal with the short end of the stick most of the time.

It's late in the night, heavy permafrost coated snow is pelting against the windows disturbing his thoughts, but welcoming them, nevertheless. As a few files of picturesque crimes float through Louis’ head like sugarplums dance through the mind of any other person not collaborating with cold killers and cutthroat assassin’s day by day.

But that’s what his line of work was, at the end of the day. It wasn’t to see the pretty side of people in their everyday lives, it was to see them at their most vulnerable, or most emotional, or simply nothing at all.

On this scale of justice, it was hard to weigh through the rights and the wrongs, that’s why the department had always followed by the book. The rules of life will always tell you what is right and what is wrong.

It was simply mind over matter this time.

Louis rubs his eyes tiredly after a long shift, desperately longing to get to his warm bed at home after searching through evidence of a perpetrator caught just a few nights ago, looking through each and every detail like a scatterplot that could scatter the mind, but Louis was talented, though he knew his limits.

Searching for his things to head home after a long day at the job, Louis looked to his certificate of authenticity of his private investigator legitimacy, he enjoyed the sight of it, knowing if nothing, above all else, he had something to his name that was tangible, palpable.

Louis’ mind raced quickly with the thoughts of each case thrown at him on his mind. But all would be washed away as soon as he walked through the station’s door, he thought to himself.

“Heading out for the night, investigator?” Detective Juniper said with a smirk, knowing Louis’ shift by heart, but yet teasing him about it mercilessly, for work banter, as she called it.

“Seems to look that way, I’ll see you bright and early Juniper.” Louis said, his voice wavering mid-sentence, his tired eyes drew out an ocean of sadness and droughts of rain and dry eyes as they looked to everyone at the station, the good and the bad, though Louis saw them all the very same.

“As to you, Louis.” She said simply, wavering with nothing else from that moment on, Louis was officially off-duty from the moment his feet crossed the skids pads of the salted sidewalks. Looking to the dim light of the police department station’s sign lifted some type of strange weight off of his shoulders as he continued on. He breathed an open breath in the darkness, with nothing but himself and the wind with him now.

His air floated heavily through the wind out of his lungs and out into the atmosphere. And, sometimes he always wondered, where would the wind take him, if he were to float into space simply, subconsciously without a care in the world, he tempted the thought for a moment, then... he let it fly.

But Louis knew he had to stay focused, and alert, no matter how delirious his nights and days might have gotten.

And with that, he marched to the end of the parking lot, labeled ‘staff only’. As his grey Mercedes-Benzes calling his name as the car jolted to a start with the click of the car alarm. Followed by Louis opening the door without haste; desperately clawing himself away from the bitter below zero temperatures that coaxed its way deep into the skin of his face.

With windshield wipers on, and darkness cascading through the pale moonlight, he was off with not a trace.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Louis raced down the freeway as fast as time would allow for making quick time of when he had left the station. While waiting in the traffic, he fumbled with the cars radio. In search of something to fill his numb empty mind with substance. Just something to fill the silence, he mumbled to himself.

The radio went static as it searched for a signal as Louis’ mind buzzed with excitement. Suddenly it roared to life as a newscaster was introduced onto the radio station with the latest breaking news.

“The case of the Lythorn’s killer in the south of Britain has caused the entire coast to go into a frenzy. With police searching for the killer, a new case has arisen seemingly out of the blue. Reports say, the faceless killer may be willing to make a name for themselves. Authorities say they are recruiting Private Investigator Louis Tomlinson and Detective Juniper Young to gather more information on the heinous murder and the suspect at large. We will provide more information when information is provided, back to your regularly scheduled programming.” The news woman said on the channel seven radio station as the radio switched back to some boring jazz music that was on previously.

Louis smiled a bit at his name and his partners being mentioned on the radio, but his smile vanished at the scenario of the names being mentioned, in the case of the Lythorn’s killer.

Though the police in that department had given Louis and Juniper almost nothing to go off; strangely he was positive they would find something more the next day when they traveled to the city itself.

The thick fog along with the chilling snow that continued to pile down on the road Louis was driving on made it hard to focus on anything else. Much rather to avoid skidding onto a patch of black ice. Louis huffed as he arrives smoothly at the driveway of his house, seeing the lights already on was peculiar but familiar all the same.

Louis wasted no time hustling to the door to avoid the dangerous frost awaiting to freeze him completely. As he keyed the door the contents of his house behind it revealed his boyfriend Milo sitting on the living room couch, eyes glued to a good book he had been reading a few weeks prior.

“Milo, I’m home.” Louis said quietly, as not to disturb his shy lover but only to alert him of his presence.

“Hey Louis, I missed you baby.” Milo said quietly as he shut the book he was holding in his hands and set it on the coffee table, the orange lights of the lamps in the living room made Louis’ skin look as if it was shining pure gold. It made Milo want to dance in that light, to swim in it and to taste it. As Louis came closer to him, slowly peeling off each layer of clothing that protected him from the cold. Now rather keeping him from being skin to skin to his boyfriend.

Now clad in a tight fitting soft-to-the-touch long sleeved t shirt, Louis exhaled a labored breath as he hung his coat up in the closet next to where he was standing.

As Louis inched closer to the couch Milo was seated on with a smirk on his face, each of the two men laid a chaste kiss on each other’s lips as Louis easily crawls next to Milo, right where he should be in his mind, and his heart.

“Missed you more.” Louis mouths quietly in a whisper as they kiss in the silence, the sounds of the winds breaking through the atmosphere outside is the only thing in the silence that can be heard.

“How was your day at the station investigator?” Milo questions sweetly as Louis looks to him with an enthusiastic stare.

“Hm, tiring, to say the least,” Louis says with a huff of air as Milo laughs and throws his head back with delight at the pout on Louis’ face.

There’s a long pause as Louis enjoys Milo’s warm skin to the touch of his still, frost bitten skin kissed by the cold snow lying just outside their windows.

“Love?” Louis questions, his words becoming a chore to his ears as he realizes the heavy weight of his words and the effect on the situation.

“I have to head out tomorrow, for a case in this town called Lythorn. There’s a murder case the department wants me Juniper and I to help the police department there with it, since they haven’t done too much of anything about it.” Louis says solemnly as Milo looks to him with questioning and worry, as he thinks of who’s to know what lies in the unknown and foreign city, which makes his imagination wonder to great lengths it will take to solve the case.

“But you just came home.” Milo whines as Louis swats his arm playfully as he laughs a hearty laugh out of pure sarcasm.

As they looked to each other in the silence, Milo wondered if Louis would return, home to him safe in one piece, he wondered. He had seen much to many stories on the news of detectives going missing in result of sketchy crime investigations, he certainly wouldn’t want the same to happen to Louis.

He simply shivered at the thought as his imagination took this moment to run away with his inhibitions and better judgement, Louis looked to his dulcet expression as he looked to him with worry all the same, Louis knew of the dangerous tasks he would be sent off to do, but at the end of the day, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Will you come back to me, my love?” Milo said out of the blue, Louis nodded, although they were heartbeats apart, Louis could never feel so far from him.

Milo and Louis had always been close, experiencing everything together. But something always felt like it was missing, and that piece called their whole castle of romance to fall apart and be forced to its knees.

And that thing, Louis had come to known all too well, was love.

Strangely he had never felt that with Milo, perhaps it wasn’t the right time, or he wasn’t ready for the deeper connection that Louis craved. But one thing about him, was that he kept it all hidden, fearing he would cast him out and break his heart was all too much that he couldn’t handle.

That’s what Louis was good at, staying inside of his comfort zone, at least in love. It was known to his mind you would only get anywhere if you stepped out of that cocoon of knowing, or prediction and safeness. But if he only knew how to break free from the chains.

If only, his heart hoped.

In his line of work, it was easy to push your limit. Let alone to jump into the unknown… but when his heart was on the line, he simply never knew where to turn to, and his fears seemed larger than life.

Sometimes it felt as if he was out of touch with reality, in a strange way.

Louis’ relationship with Milo had never been easy, being with each other from such a ripe age of sixteen had always caused problems, but nothing of which they couldn’t figure out.

But alas, even if all was right with the silence in the night, as they slept in the same bed Louis would always feel as if something was missing, and he had not known as to what.

Milo was a loving man, and he had cared for Louis in ways no one else ever could, or even knew how to. But there were other sides to Louis Milo did not know of, and possibly that he would never dream of at all.

As Louis learned more about how the human brain works and how we manage to process and create master plans in our small little heads he wondered how loving Louis was missing from Milo’s head, Louis sighed as he inflicted his own self pain at the thought, and he wouldn’t even tempt it, afterward, all he knew of was the silence, there was no light. It was as if they were living on the dark side of the moon.

Constantly searching for the light in the world, and always finding it was nowhere to be found.

Of course, Louis had always been shrouded in darkness, in order to corrupt the bad, you must become the dark.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Louis

The darkness outside seemed cold as I cascaded into the darkness once more, off in search of another mystery with no name to match the faces, I sighed to myself at the circumstances as I stood up straight and began my conquest of the ages.

I looked to the large alarm clock outlining the time of day in dark red letters 6:00 AM the clock read as my mind began to switch between the tasks that needed to be done before I took my leaving swiftly at dusk.

I padded across the wooden floors before returning briskly to the master bedroom of Milo and I’s shared apartment, few hours had passed as I paced back and forth in the confides of the living room deciding the course of action for the case of the unknown mysterious killer of the town Lythorn.

I looked to Milo’s sleeping figure and the covers thrown askew on the bed as he had left them. I kissed his forehead as he stirred in his sleep before my eyes, I seen his eyelids flutter for a brief moment before being met with his honey brown eyes and dark brown hair strewn across the pillowcase in contrast to our white sheets.

“You’re leaving already?” Milo said in a husky whisper as I nodded to him, he looked up to me as he sat up from the bed and the ivory sheets slipped off of his upper body gracefully as a hushed gasped escaped from my lips. He was so very beautiful, I thought to myself, but why didn’t I feel the way I was supposed too about him? I questioned myself yet again, if only I knew the answer.

“Yes M, Juniper and I have to beat the big snowstorm that’s rolling in.” I said playfully as Milo’s body fell back onto the mattress dramatically as he released a breath of air in the silence.

“I suppose so, be safe Lou.” Milo said as his eyes pleaded with mine as I was left speechless.

I did what anyone would do in this situation, as time was ticking and I was left speechless, I simply walked away, with only my heart to my name in search of a mystery.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The ride was quiet, as the sun peaked across the hills of the town’s opening and the wind bustled and whistled across the landscape.

The snowfall was heavy and unforgiving as the townsfolk walked across the icy sidewalks with pride in their strides, but also with casual caution carrying them along with the winds. The people of this town seemed to be of no alarm to the state of emergency that was going on around them, something told me this aura of unusual crime was nothing but.

Lythorn was nothing I didn’t expect it to be, but strange, nonetheless. The nippy weather casted shadows on the seemingly empty ghost town, but it was bustling with people in town square, shadows crossed the bleak sunlight that peaked through the clouds as the roads were bustling with traffic, people travelling in and out of the city. I looked around at the strange winter haze as it created an odd shadow around the town’s aura.

Everything looked bleak as we pulled into town square trying to avoid the people and the constant chatter and odd stares that the people who inhabited the town gave us, Juniper wearily gauged the emotions of the town itself and the people living in it as we weaved our way through the heavy traffic as the thick snow poured down making it impossible to see a few miles in front of you.

But that didn’t stop us as we stopped the car as a police detective of the Lythorn Police Department flagged us down as I expected them to. Juniper and I looked to each other one last time before we opened the car doors and shut them behind us as the investigator motioned us to the departments headquarters to escape the blinding snow.

As we all rushed into the small detective office headquarters the detective shut the door blocking out all of the blinding blizzards of snow winding around us.

“Nice to meet you both, you must be investigator Tomlinson and detective Young?” He questioned as he shook both of our hands as we nodded.

“Wonderful, I’m detective Zayn Malik, I’ll be filling you in on the basic information on the case you’ll be investigating.” The detective said, which name to my information was Zayn, nodded to us as we all collectively huddled in closer to take in the secretive information.

“The people of Lythorn are absolutely terrified of the supposed ‘murderer’ making a name for themselves here, and we haven’t got not a crumb of information of their name, sex, or identity, if found guilty are responsible for over twenty murders this year alone. The police can’t seem to get their heads out of their asses to figure out what’s going on here. That’s why we’ve hired you.” Zayn explained as we nodded with the information we were receiving. My mind began to wonder as to why the police and detectives here weren’t able to find much of any information about this sleuth killer. Were they lacking the correct information, or was the killer just that good?

“But the main reason we’ve asked you here is for a pending crime investigation, one that was previously a cold case but… thanks to new evidence has been blown wide open once again.” Zayn said nonchalantly once again, my mind buzzed with more questions that seemed plausible to answer at this time. I was eager to know more about this case. The more I knew, the less time it would take to crack the code to whatever strange lock and key the killer has all of their secrets under.

“This information is on a need-to-know basis, I presume?” Juniper asked as detective Malik nodded nonchalantly.

“A girl, by the name of Anna Blokes has been killed, and not recently, I am afraid.” He began his story of a cautionary tale to what I had not known, I only nodded and stayed silent to intake more information.

“She was killed exactly ten years ago, and now the killer that took her life seems to be on the prowl again. You see, with all the new attention on her case, the killer seems to be gathering quite an idea of what we’re after, them. And that’s precisely why this is a dangerous game we’re playing; the public continues to demand more information as the killer seems to be getting closer and closer.

“Have the police tried doing a dangerous suspect search, or set out an amber alert?” Juniper asked as Zayn looked puzzled for an answer to her question. I wondered if the people of this town were aware of the danger of what was going on around them.

“Well, you see Detective Young, any time something like that occurs, the suspect ends up killing off one of our key leads in the case. Even cold killers themselves cannot escape this ruthless killer.” Zayn nods as his facial expression goes cold, and the room goes dead silent for a few beats as Juniper, and I question the case completely in the silence. How would the killer even know of the suspects in the investigation? They had to be someone on the inside.

“Have you ever suspected someone on the inside had something to do with this whole ordeal?” I said shockingly as detective Malik looked puzzled to say the least, maybe they had not thought of that possibility, though I had hoped with all of my hearts we had not fooled ourselves into the biggest murder scandal of the decade.

The detective pauses to answer; and it almost seems undeniable that we had a real mess on our hands. It was clear as day, to my eyes at least. And then, suddenly, a woman bursts through the door of a hallway leading to somewhere inside the department’s headquarters in a hurry, she holds a key to the case that I figured wouldn’t have flown through the door on the first day. But it wasn’t easy news to handle, and it was a tough pill to swallow.

“Detective Malik! There’s been another murder!” She shouts as she has the fresh print crime scene photos in hand. Zayn motions to her as he spreads all of the new photographs on the table as they send a chill down my spine.

For a moment I paused and looked around me to evaluate if the reality around me was real, because it didn’t seem to be in that moment. I caught a glance of the photographs as they were graphicly shocking and patiently surprising. My body seized on the very first day of a 10-year-old murder investigation, now reopened, there was a killing, and somehow that worried me more than finding the suspect, it worried me because of the contents of the photos, and what they meant from here forward.

And what’s more worrying, is this face seems to look familiar.

author’s note: How do we like my new novel “blue ice” so far? What do we think is up the sleeves of the sly detective and investigator duo?

Secondly, will Louis solve his relationship problems with Milo or is there relationship better left in the past? And what do you think the crime scene photos look like? Who has been killed?

Comment your theories and predictions, what do you think will happen next?

All the love, Louiscarrotsxoxo

link to blue ice masterlist

#larry stylinson fanfic #blue ice #louis tomlinson #harry loves louis #harry styles #louiscarrotsxoxo

0 notes

hwandorp · 2 years

Note

hello! I'm interested to join in but I wonder if you're accepting a grey / evil character here ? is there character allowed to have an illegal job? also, is it possible for my character to not own a wand but still able to cast a spell / manipulate elements?

hi there anon!

we're very excited to hear about your interest in our roleplay!

we currently have a lot of muses who have dark wizard family backgrounds but many of them don't truly associate themselves with the dark arts. in that case, we'd definitely be open to accept morally grey or evil characters here with us! however, we would like to note that based on the lore of roleplay, even though the island and organization are accepting of witches and wizards from any background, they don't condone the acts of dark arts to be performed on the island. if anyone is caught doing something dubious involving the dark arts, there are extreme penalties for that. this isn't to say our members aren't allowed to write their muses with such topics, we'd just like that things be written in a reasonable fashion to the lore considering there is a strong law enforcement with an auror department located in the capitol of hwando.

as for your muse themself, although they may be morally grey or evil, they wouldn't be allowed to be going around intentionally causing harm to others in a fashion that would make it obvious if that makes sense. however, ic wise, should your writing partners be alright with anything that might put their muse in comprimising or jeopardizing situations that is completely up to you guys!

as for not having a wand, although wandless magic does exist and some cultures have practiced it, this may be one of the restrictions we have that all muses require a wand! for the cultures that have mainly relied on using wands to channel their magic, wandless magic typically works for very highly skilled and talented wizards or witches. this isn't to say that the muses here wouldn't be able to perform such magic as there are some spells that are simple enough to be able cast without a wand if the caster has the skill and talent to manage their magic so.

in this case, you're muse can definitely cast wandless magic, however, we will say that this should be kept within reason of your muse's background and age and how what they choose to do with that ability.

regarding your muse having an illegal job, this is something that may have to be run by the admod team to make sure that it's appropriate for the roleplay's guidelines!

we hope that this answers your questions! we'd like to keep muse creations as open as possible for all members and any potential members considering joining. however, we'd also just like to make sure that aspects of the roleplay's lore are still considered and followed to allow the most for experiencing everything the roleplay has to offer.

if you have any other questions, please feel free to send in another ask or message us!

— admin emerald

#hwnanswered #krp #kpop rp #hp rp

0 notes

chill-pills-yandere-haven · 3 years

Text

Innocence

An: This is a yandere Diluc one-shot\drabble. This is my first time doing a one-shot like this so please don't be too harsh. If you find any constructive criticism to give, that would help a lot, so feel free to tell me.

Date started: July 20th. Date finished: July 20th

Tw: yandere, manipulation, very vague reference to abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any actions or behaviours of yanderes, yanderes are abusive. This is not a healthy relationship.

You were too innocent to save yourself.

You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him. You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him.

Kaeya was the one to introduce you two. You were both captains of the Knights of Favonious and you were good friends, enough to go drinking together. You had gone to Angel's Share together for your first outing, and as though the world was trying to do you in, Diluc was bartending that night.

You had been doomed from the moment you opened your mouth to speak. Somehow, more of your work was shifted to where he was. Hauling things to Dawn Winery, getting rid of monsters near there. He presented himself as a harbour, as a person to go to whenever Kaeya was stressing you out or when you needed help with anything. You had become familiar with him, happy to see him instead of caution of what the wine tycoon could be hiding.

You were practically always on break. For some reason, whenever anything was interesting like a hazard or a new case to investigate. It was dissolved almost immediately, murderers being convicted a day after you were put on their case, monsters already being defeated as soon as you got to the scene.

Then, there was the surge of missing cases. They were people you used to know, you might've been acquainted with them, they could've flirted with you before, or maybe you had thought them to be attractive. They all had a connection to you, and now they were gone. Something that sprouted mistrust of you in the knights, giving rise to more stress.

Diluc would listen to your troubles and worries of feeling as though you had no purpose with the knights. Always a supportive and trustworthy friend. Or that was what you saw. Innocence did you in. Eventually, you found yourself falling for the solemn man. The way he freely smiled at you and not anyone else, the way you felt as though you could depend on each other. As though Diluc wasn't making you depend exclusively on him.

You confessed to him first, unknowingly releasing a side of him better kept in the shadows. He only got more protective and strict with you, giving you rules that you just chalked up to him wanting to be clear about boundaries and thought he was more protective because of his past.

After that, you only got more and more dependent on him. To the point where Diluc convinced you to resign from the knights. Mondstadt was a peaceful nation filled with powerful people who could protect it and you were just a hard-working captain without a Vision. Yes, you did do your best, yes, you helped out as much as possible. But, as your lover told you, it was better to leave things bigger than you to bigger people, people who could actually do things, not just try. You settled into the winery, married Diluc and had a comfortable life by his side. The only thing you could ask for was to go outside of the winery, anywhere would be enough for you, maybe into the city too. It had been quite a while since you had seen anyone who wasn't a worker at the winery or your husband.

You don't remember your stay with him too well, most of it a blur of only him. You can remember some crying and pain, but not from anything you recognize, besides, Diluc would never do something like that to you.

So you asked, not suspecting the obvious answer.

"Diluc, Love, do you think we could visit the city together sometime?" He had finished his work and was now lying in bed with you, tight hold on your hips as though at any moment you might disappear. Feeling him tense up at your words and positioning his head into the crook of your neck, spooning you closer, you nuzzled into him, effectively relaxing the red-haired man.

"For what reason, my dear?" Diluc questioned as your hands found his long hair and played with the soft threads.

"Oh, nothing really serious, I'd just like to pay a visit to my old friends and would like to be outside the winery again." You supplied, feeling him breathe into your hair.

"I would, but you know how busy I am and what if the people you used to know don't care about you anymore or resent you for choosing to stay with me? For all you know, they could have just been pretending to like you to take advantage of before. Besides, we can go to a nice place I know near the winery. It'll be perfectly safe and it will be just us." Your husband replied, trailing his hands along your sides, filled with adoration and something else.

You told him okay and eased into his touch. Falling asleep as he whispered sweet words of love to you.

If only you knew what he hid.

If only you knew what he had done for you.

If only you knew what he took advantage of for you.

If only you knew who he had killed for you.

He was lucky that you were so pure, so true and trusting.

So innocent.

And that innocence would seal your fate.

#yandere #first fic #male yandere #yandere text #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc #diluc #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc ragnvindr #Chill pill's yandere haven #If you are wondering Diluc did abuse them before but here you pushed all of that down and forgot.

273 notes · View notes

wh6res · 3 years

Text

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

637 notes · View notes

ablednt · 2 years

Text

[Singlets DNI with this post specifically it's an in community discussion]

Not to start talking about this again but if any of my fellow white followers still do this please don't call your self-made headmates tulpa or use the term tulpamancy. I don't think most of the people using it do so to be malicious but here are some reasons why you should use alternative terms

It's cultural appropriation no matter how you want to look at it. The term was adapted from a religious practice in Tibetan Buddhism that has quite literally nothing to do with systemhood. Like it cannot be a case of this culture or religion shared with us because we're completely misusing the concept. If you're not a part of a religion don't use terms derived from sacred parts of it for non-religious purposes that's very disrespectful. (A lot of people want to argue this point but Tibetan Buddhists have spoken out about this before and though a lot of people use this point to demonize all self-made systems I've seen sources who don't do that and still request another term be used)

The term doesn't make sense etymology wise and the only arguments I've heard from systems who use it instead of an alternative are "it just sounds cool [because I think things from other cultures are just cool and aesthetic]" (this ties in to a problem in the witchcraft/pagan community but that's a different discussion) and "this is what I'm used to using [and I am the victim here for being mildly inconvenienced]

There's SO many better alternatives. There's self-made headmate/system, there's parogenic/parotive, there's specific terms that explain how you formed them like textform, and there's also the basic terms like headmate, system member, etc. Not only do these have no culturally appropriative origins but they actually describe the experience rather than just "sounding cool" and hell even if none of those do it for you there's a lot more and you can coin your own you have the power.

It makes people uncomfortable. This, I think, is the more important point. Like even if it somehow magically turned out that historically it was fine (it hasn't done that) you should still be prioritizing what people and systems of color have been telling you. We've seen a lot of people voicing their discomfort over the term and it seems to be a symptom of a larger racism problem within the system community. So when you double down and dig your heels in over something small like this it's setting a bad precedence and making people uncomfortable. At the end of the day you really should care about other people enough to do something small like this.

Now before anyone misinterprets this or tries to co-op it for exclusionist purposes here's some notes

Self-made systems are real and valid and also they're not giving themselves a disorder. Self-made plurality as a cultural and healthy practice is acknowledged indirectly in the DSM5 as being separate to DID/OSDD1 for people who still worship psychiatry.

I do Not condone fakeclaiming or harassment and will not tolerate it in this space. Any interaction that makes an attempt to so much as insinuate that self-made systems are not real systems or are less valid than other system will result in an immediate block.

[Going to also go ahead and say don't reblog this actually, I think if this one breeches containment it's going to be ugly and I don't feel like having to make a bad faith discourse blocklist actually]

#ask to tag #probably the only post I'm making about this but I was reminded of it #and since I very much avoid these terms/systems who use them I figured I'd try and explain why #I don't have the sources mentioned on hand but i can get them #also @ fellow white systems don't try to argue with me that's just embarrassing #if anyone else has comments though I'm all ears discussion wise #like this is definitely a simplification and I'm sure there's some nuance to the issue #this is not an attempt for me to be Right(tm) so much as a collection of thoughts I have on the issue based on the information I have #edit: went back and specified white systems at the beginning of the post because I don't think it's #appropriate for me to tell systems of color what to do

15 notes · View notes

secretswansong · 3 years

Text

One thing about the show which is affected by the pacing (i.e. having only 6 episodes) is Alex's competence as a detective and as a character. Major spoilers ahead.

Within each case, or Episodes 1-4, Alex does good detective work: gathering information from the crime scenes and through interactions with humans and supernatural creatures. I haven't read a lot of mystery or detective fiction apart from Smaller and Smaller Circles by F. H. Batacan (A MUST-READ!) so all I can tell is that Alex is competent enough for the plot to work. The komiks would probably have more on this; I haven't read those and I'm mainly going off on the show/anime.

Several of her interactions with humans and supernatural creatures felt rather convenient to me, likely because of how the quick pacing relies on quick delivery of important information to drive the plot. More nuanced interactions would take up more runtime. That's why we get a lot of info-dumping such as the following.

In Episode 1, Cpt. Guerrero warns Alex about Mayor Santamaria's power, even though he's imprisoned by the end of the episode. The survivors of the aswang readily give consistent testimonies, not concerned that they wouldn't be believed, not doubting that their captors were aswang, and thus no need for Alex and the cops to gain their trust.

In Episode 3, Jobert locates Petra Gallaga's video of what she did with Nova Aurora's baby, which would have still posed a risk towards Nova's reputation and career, even if it makes sense for her character. I cannot think of any practical reason behind it apart from providing an explanation of the tiyanak at the expense of Nova's characterization. (I don't condone her actions, and her character could have been written better.)

And, you know, the info-dumping from the Nuno and, especially, Datu Talagbusao, throughout Episodes 5 and 6.

(Bonus: all the flashbacks that focus on Alex and Anton, whose relationship was clearly the most important to the narrative and for Alex's training. So, in comparison, we get very little from Alex's mother, brothers, and grandfather.)

Still, Alex's human and supernatural connections suit her bigger role as the babaylan-mandirigma of Manila, and the resources with it. Even an ordinary detective would have made allies and connections.

However, Team Trese get no opportunities to further analyze the string of cases and the warnings from supernatural characters. Imagine if, in Smaller and Smaller Circles, the protagonists identify each victim but never figure out the key towards identifying the killer.

Alex is understandably busy with the individual cases, to the point that she is "sick of being two steps behind," but the enemy are well ahead and the team is more or less blindsided by the events in Episodes 5 & 6. (Other hints were more of foreshadowing aimed at the audience.)

We don't get scenes of Team Trese putting their heads together in the library, doing research, making timelines, comparing notes...

They could have reflected on recent cases: Is the timing normal or too quick and opportune for them? Could these cases have anything in common?

They could have speculated on underworld gossip and warnings and threats Alex got from other supernatural characters: Did anything they said sound too unusual or cryptic, even for them? Could any of them be involved with the cases? What storm, what prophecy, what big players are they talking about? Is someone trying to ruin the treaty?

The Emissary of Ibu calls Alex the future ruler of the underworld in Episode 1. But Alex dismisses that, doesn't further question the Emissary calling her that or Ibu's very respectful messages; and the show doesn't repeat this nice clue so that she notices. If the show did this and had her still dismiss these clues, that could have established her belief in her father (and his version of the prophecy) as a character weakness (i.e. the revelation in Episode 6 becomes a little more painful).

The flashbacks with Datu Talagbusao deliver backstory and set up how he is defeated in Episode 6 — for the audience. There's no solid indication that Alex and Team Trese recall these specific memories and wonder if Datu Talagbusao could be involved.

Hell, imagine if Crispin and Basilio came up with that — Bossing, our father (derogatory) is really into all this carnage, is it just us or maybe he's trying to make a comeback?

The one real effort in this direction (for me) was Hank's own investigation in Episode 4, when he spoke with the Nuno and Amang Paso. That was also a good way to show Hank's competence, being a longtime ally of the Treses, as well as how Alex could not and did not do everything by herself. And then Hank is nerfed and his findings don't really pay off because the remaining Team Trese barely catch up with the enemy for the final showdown.

Most if not all of the information from Nuno and Datu Talagbusao is new and doesn't confirm/disprove any suspicions or working hypotheses from Team Trese, because they haven't gotten opportunities to come up with them.

In Episode 5, the supernatural council meets and votes to dissolve the treaty, without Alex. All we get is Maliksi being the bearer of bad news. This event is the pinnacle of how the supernatural creatures (as a whole) have been undermining the authority of the babaylan-mandirigma. But this is the biggest missed opportunity for Alex to showcase her competence.

Imagine if Alex was invited to and/or crashed that meeting. She could present evidence from recent cases + cite statements and threats from other characters. She could argue that there's something bigger going on, trying to get rid of the treaty. She could have her allies back her up (and speak with them after the meeting). There would have been wonderful interactions with those who respect her and those who don't.

Would she have to succeed at preserving the treaty? No, but her failure would not have been entirely due to incompetence. This scene would have been a great parallel to Alex's memory/flashback of when Anton convinced the council to retain the treaty: Alex hasn't earned as much respect and influence as Anton had.

For me, this scene also implied that Alex has only been the lakan for a few years, maybe less than a decade. Apart from this, she asks Hank (in Episode 4) if being the lakan was this hard for her father; the flashback of when she returned from her Trials and assumed her current role (and looks) checks out; and we've seen great scenes of how supernatural creatures treat Alex with varying levels of respect (e.g. Señor Armanaz vs. Bagyon Lektro).

It was fun to rewatch and write about the show with pacing in mind. I really hope Netflix gives Trese more seasons and more episodes per season, because there's so much potential all-around (not just for Alex's character).

32 notes · View notes

kazuhasbunny · 3 years

Note

Ok, first off I'm going to clarify that I am in fact not the same anon you were complaining about however I do want to correct your definition of pro-shipper. It definitely does not mean that they ship children with adults, nor is it shorthand for problematic shipper. The term actually came about a few years ago in opposition to anti-shippers, the ones who would harass people for shipping certain things that they didn't like, regardless of if it was problematic or not. In fact in most of these harassment cases the ship in question wasn't problematic at all. This was particularly common among fangirls who shipped certain gay ships within a series and would go around bashing and harassing anyone that shipped things that 'competed' with their ship. I am aware that urban dictionary isn't the most credible of sources but quoting their pro-ship article Pro-shipping is "the practice of not shaming or harassing over fictional ships." To clarify using a very succinct definition from Twitter "a pro-shipper is just the opposite of an anti-shipper. A pro-shipper is someone who doesn't care what other people ship or what characters they stan because pro-shippers know that it's just fiction."

What this means is that pro-shippers don't necessarily support any ship in particular, nor does it mean that they find every ship completely and totally okay, or that it doesn't disgust them or whatever. What it means is that they are of the opinion that no matter what someone thinks about fictional characters, it really doesn't matter all that much because they are fictional. You are allowed to be disgusted by ships. You are allowed to think they are morally wrong or whatever. But at the point at which you are wishing genuine harm upon and sending death threats to actual people because of their opinions on fictional ones there is an issue. You are in charge of and responsible for curating your own online experience. If you dont like a ship for whatever reason, whether you think it's problematic or it's just a ship you don't want to see content for because you don't care for it, great, block the tags for it, maybe block a few blogs if you feel the need and be done with it. In a case like the one that seems to have started this where someone approaches you with content you are uncomfortable with in your asks or whatever, block them if you can, and if you can't either delete and ignore them or respectfully but firmly respond that you do not like, condone, or wish to engage with that content and ask that they leave you alone. Most people will tend to respect a request like that if you don't immediately threaten them and escalate the situation. Pro-shippers are just those who think that the people telling others that they deserve death and "should be shot on sight" in defense of fictional characters are causing way more harm than the ones they are raging at. The moral outrage and performative activism are unnecessary. I don't mean to be disrespectful or hostile, and I do apologize if I came off that way, but I did want to at least make sure that if information is going to be spread, it should at least be accurate. Sincerely, a pro-shipper who is tired of getting death threats just for not caring about how people ship made up characters

im sorry but why are u even on my blog the first place 😕 i will be kindly asking u to leave , i do not want any proshippers on my blog . ever . idc if this is the real explanation or whatever i don’t care please .... leave

#eli.replies #anon #tw : discourse #ig

16 notes · View notes

peachymess · 3 years

Note

what's the reason you like Freddy Krueger enough to list him as one of your favorite villains? do you actually feel bad for him and think he didn't deserve what happened to him? or do you just think he's a well written character and that's why you enjoy him? i don't mean to nitpick but i think it's important for some of us to know the reason in order to determine whether your blog is a safe environment for CSA victims/survivors or not. i mean no disrespect i just feel like context here is key.

I grew up with his movies. It wasn’t about the backstory or the deeper analysis - just like with Friday the 13th and Psyko and all of those. Freddy was just another horror movie monster who killed people in whacky ways for me and to be honest, I neither remember, nor ever really cared about where he came from. He was just a dream-monster man to me, who gives me nostalgia today.

Only later in life did I read that Wes Craven initially intended for Freddy to be a predator - something which was dropped and turned to “just” a child killer (emphasis on killer) due to an at the time current criminal case going on in America.

I know they brought the initial backstory back for the reboot, but I neither knew about it as a kid, nor do I consider it as canon for those original movies, since it wasn’t at the time. Though, that isn’t to say that I’m not uncomfortable with this additional bit of the story of the making of him. I am, very much so. But I keep my fondness for those old time movies separate from the knowledge of where this figure came from, because I don’t want my memories tainted.

As far as I knew growing up with the movies, he was a dream-monster who would bleed into the real world to try and kill you with whacky practical effects just because. Me being very big on dreams only made it cooler. It was my father who introduced me and my brother, and when we were growing up he’d make this goofy sound effect and open his hand as if he had a clawed glove on, and pretended to stab us in the guts - to our laughing delight. Freddy bleeds into a father figure for me (which, yes, made me even more grossed out and sad when I read about the franchise beginnings). I never had the heart to tell him where the idea for Freddy started, he doesn’t know.

It was a mark of pride and achievement when he declared that we were old enough to watch this and that volume. It also was a bonding experience that I appreciate, because he’d tell us about him watching it with friends, how he’d scare them afterwards and what practical effects he admired the most.

So yeah... I remember the franchise fondly, though not the details of the story. Learning later that there was an extra malicious backstory made me very uncomfortable, but I view that aspect as separate to the goofy practical horror movie childhood I had and cherished.

Of course I don’t appreciate Freddy as a person. And of course I don’t condone what he did - in any version of his character. But it is as I said in my lengthy villain post - how much I look at morals in fiction, depends on how much I’m invested in its realism. A nightmare on Elm street isn’t something I take very seriously (unlike real life CSP, as I can think of no worse thing).

The big mistake I have made, though, is not taking into consideration that others don’t have the same relationship to those old movies as I do. I have also taken for granted that not everybody sees those pop culture horror icons - Freddy, Jason, Myers, Leather-face, Pinhead, etc - as lightheartedly as their constant referrals in pop culture makes it seem like everyone does. I forgot to consider that even fiction that I consider “not deep/meant to be taken seriously” can still trigger. And I’m sorry for that ignorance on my part. I’m sorry for not prefacing Freddy on the list with some sort of explanation to easy those of you who look at Freddy and only see that. It simply did not occur to me, and that embarrasses me.

Now, I won’t lie. The A nightmare on Elm street franchise will always mean a lot to me, regardless of how others see it. Even regardless of whether that makes you uncomfortable with me or not. I cannot undo the impact it had on me growing up. And I will not censor that fact here. If I for some reason want to talk about it or reblog a gif set of it at some point, I will. I still have to be true to me. I know my own intentions. I just want you to know that.

However, I WILL tag Freddy from now on. I’m always open to receive tag requests. Always! And I’m very appreciative of inquiries like these, rather than people assuming things and holding those ideas in their mind as fact without asking. So thank you for asking, anon.

I hope that can give you some ease - or in the very least clarity in where to place me.

#Freddy Krueger #a nightmare on elm street #tw csa

7 notes · View notes

lennydaisy · 4 years

Text

EPIPHANY // OUTER BANKS

The Outer Banks. Paradise on earth. Well, it is if you can afford it.

Figure 8, home of the portentous and intitled. So detached from reality that you'd have to use their private jets to bring them back down to the ground. If they're not lounging around on their secluded beaches in front of their White House sized mansions, then they're at the country club complaining that their ice-cold lemonade isn't ice-cold enough. We call them Kooks. Guess where I don't live?

Next up, The Cut, neutral habitat of, drum roll please ladies and gentleman... The Pogues. Lowest members of the food chain. You see, it's one island divided in two. You either have two houses or two jobs. I have two jobs and will still never be able to afford one house, let alone two, but that's life I guess. The Pogues are like those kids your parents tell you to stay away from when you visit the park. Well, now the park has stretched to all aspects of life warranting us to be unwanted and neglected which isn't such a bad thing, that just means we get to do whatever we want, whenever we want.

Right now, however, this is the last place I want to be. Save-A-Lot. One of my two jobs. See how this all ties in?

The continuous, subtly, beeping of the scanner, the bright overhead lights that the same moth has been flying into for a week now, that one cart that you can hear before you see, and this frustratingly itchy, red polo shirt that I'm wearing because it's 'oh-so mandatory'.

It's been reported that a storm is going to hit us in a couple of days, so naturally, the stores been busier than usual, with both Kooks and Pogues. It's like sacred land, all differences get put aside in this very store unless there's a two for one deal at the seafood counter. In that case, no one's safe, not even me, the poor, little employee. I've been slapped with a Tuna Fish before. I don't want to talk about it.

"Can I interest you in some... What are they again? Sea salted chocolate with a crushed Macadamia nut shell and a rich creamy filling, homemade by Mrs Adams?" I squint at the packaging before smiling at the man before me who peered at me, head tilted slightly. Nodding instantly, already knowing the answer, "I don't blame you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

Smashing my fingers on the scratch invested, touch screen register, slapping the side of the machine until it eventually rings up the total, "That'll be $148.98 however, you get the extended family discount, so that makes it..." twirling my finger around the air, attempting the mental math, "10% off $148," I utter, closing my eyes as if that's going to help me find the answer quicker. 'I knew I should have joined the math team with Pope.'

"$134," the man affirms looking at me sympathetically, halting my search for my calculator that is normally taped to the till. I take the mans money, squinting at him, "Okay, I'll take your word for it man but if I get fired, I want a job at The Wreck," handing him his receipt.

"We'll see," he said putting his packed bags back into his cart, "I'll get through to you one day. You can't deny I'm your favourite" I state in a matter of fact, waving him off as he pushes his cart away from the checkout, "Bye Mason."

"I don't hear you denying it," I shout, watching him hurridly pushing his cart towards the door, "Okay bye Mr Carrera, tell Kie I said hi!"

Twirling around in my chair a couple of times, I came to a stop at the sight of a pink calculator, my pink calculator, taped to Mrs Adams till. That Bitch. I sit patiently for her to be done with her customers, waving at the elderly couple as they pass, "See you later Mr and Mrs Graham, have a nice day," I smile.

"Oh you too Mason, you should stop by again, you and your friends were such a delight the last time," Mrs Graham praises tapping her ringed fingers on my counter. Nodding at her request as her husband began to drag her away from me, claiming he 'Wants to be home today not tomorrow,' knowing his wife to be quite the blether.

"What a pleasant young lady. Wouldn't you agree, Marty?"

"Oh yes, very well mannered."

"Listen here, sticky fingers, I know you stole my calculator" My smile instantly dropping as I look upon the thief that I have the pleasure of calling my co-worker.

Mrs Adams is your typical grandma. Tonged hair, thick-rimmed glasses and filled with opinions that are always unwarranted. She has had it out for as long as I can remember, once locking me in the walk-in freezer claiming to not know I was in there despite being in there with me moments before. At least I only have to deal with her a few days a week, I couldn't handle any more than that.

"What calculator?" she questions innocently. Pointing my finger accusingly at her till where low and behold, sits my calculator, "Oh really, what's that then?"

Sparing a glance at my calculator, she shakes her head, nose pointed up, "That's an anniversary gift from my husband. I, by no means, stole your calculator."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation.

Laughing at her alibi, "Are you aware of how much bullsh-", the clearing of a throat interrupts my tangent and I suddenly became aware of where I am again. Mrs Adams raises her eyebrows at me, is she mocking me? Glaring at her one last time as to say 'this conversation isn't over', I timidly spun my chair back around, plastering a smile on my face, getting ready to greet my next customer.

Oh no.

"Hi, Mr Cameron," I greet the man, scratching behind my ear hoping he didn't overhear me. Beginning to scan his items, another figure catches my eye.

Rafe.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, I present the biggest dickhead on the entire island. He thinks everybody owes him something just because his daddy is well known throughout the OBX and has no problem expressing his distaste for anyone who doesn't fit his agenda. He's a cocky, arrogant snob who needs to be knocked off his podium a few inches, or feet.

"Hello, Mason, and how many times have I told you to call me Ward?"

"Clearly not enough for me to listen," I mutter under my breath, passing the already packed bags towards a very accepting Rafe, who snatched them with a scrawl printed on his face, "Your face will stay like that if the winds change" I advise innocently, waving my fingers around my forehead area, "Don't want to get any wrinkles, but if you need some anti-ageing cream, I'm sure Mrs Adams can recommend a few of her favourites,"

"Maybe even get you a coupon," I suggest finishing to scan the last of their items, "Isn't that right, Mrs Adams," I called to the lady over my shoulder how instantly peeped up at the chance to chat with the boy.

"Oh, yes. Come here deary, I'll show you my collection,"

It's no secret throughout the OBX that Mrs Adams is a bit of a renowned cougar, having no problem expressing herself towards any sort of male attention. Mrs Adam doesn't discriminate, so even assholes like Rafe can't escape the clutches of her fondness, but she's harmless... most of the time.

Ward nudges his son in the direction of the lady, who is eagerly waiting for the boy with her creams placed in an orderly fashion before her. Rafe's eyes practically begging for his dad to have some mercy on him only to earn a point in her direction.

"I hate you," he huffs at me, feet dragging towards the ladies till.

Fluttering my eyes with a cheesy smile, "I know," I say before turning to finish Mr Cameron's groceries.

"That's $236 please," I state ringing up his total as he slides his card into the swipe machine, "It'll take a minute, a caveman has better technology than this place." He shakes his head at me, waving his hand slightly, understanding.

"Sea salted chocolate, uh?" he wonders picking up the bar, as I mentally slap myself for forgetting to ask if he was interested, "Would you like to buy one?" I questioned despite already knowing his answer. It's the same one that I've heard all day.

Placing the packet back in its place he shakes his head, "No thank you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

"That's what I'm saying," ripping off his receipt before handing it to him, "Thank you, Mason," he laughs before turning towards his son, who is still listening to Mrs Adams ramble on about why she prefers Olay over Caudlíne.

About to bid farewell to the man, he turns and asks, "I hate to be a bother and I know it's short notice, but would you mind babysitting Wheezie for me on Saturday morning, I know you don't normally work weekends, it's just this storm's going to cause a run-in with my properties and-"

"Of course I will, Mr Cameron," I interrupted his ramble. He looks at me relieved, nodding his head, "See you later, Mason."

"Bye Ward," gross, I'm sticking with Mr Cameron.

Watching as the pair walk past my till I can't help but laugh as I see Rafe slouching away with a tub of Olay Anti-ageing cream. Turning around at the sound, he flips me off, "I'll get you back for this," earning a shoving on the shoulder from his dad, but I can't help but wave cheerily, "Oh, I'm sure you will."

Mr Ward Cameron, my other boss. A few years ago I put up flyers with a tear-off of my phone number offering a babysitting service. Safe to say, I got my fair share of prank calls and when I got a call from someone claiming to be Mr Cameron I assumed it was someone messing with me again, but it turns out it wasn't. He genuinely needed someone to watch his youngest daughter Wheezie and I needed cash, and he does pay generously, especially now considering recent circumstances.

Glancing at the clock that is nailed above the exit I see that it's 2:00 P.M, the best time of my day, getting out of here. Grabbing the key from my pocket, I lock up the till before heading toward the poor excuse of a staff room.

Glancing around the room blue painted room, making sure no one is still on their lunch, I quickly grab my bag and dash over to the fridge. I never, and mean never, condone stealing, that's why I don't call it that. I prefer 'borrowing and then 'forgetting' to give it back'. Sure, I never asked if I could 'borrow' the alcohol that I am currently stuffing in my bag but, that's neither here nor there.

I throw my bag, which I can already tell is going to cause my back hell, over my shoulder. I grab Kie longboard, which I did ask for permission to use, and begin to make my way past the checkouts.

Before leaving, I pivot around, "Hey, Mrs Adams," I called out just to see that she was already glaring in my direction, a bit creepy if you ask me, "Don't worry, you've only got like what, another 6 hours?" acting like I didn't know as I pointed at the clock.

"Oh, and before I forget," I rush over to her counter and rip my calculator off her till. Smiling sweetly at the older lady, saluting her as I leave, "See you next week, Mrs Adams," I laugh, running out the door, jumping onto the longboard.

Let the fun begin.

Now there is something about my friends that you should know. As cheesy as its sounds, we're a group of misfits who happen to fit perfectly together, well almost perfectly, but no matter what we've got each other backs.

Now, where do we start?

JJ Maybank. We've been best friends since the third grade after he got into a fight with some kids who were making fun of me for having a 'boys name', and I haven't been able to get rid of him since. He's the guy who jokingly pushed me off the HMS Pogue only to quickly find out that I couldn't swim. I insisted that it was fine but JJ doesn't take no for an answer and took it upon himself to personally teach me.

He's the most loyal guy I know, willing to drop anything to help his friends. I most definitely developed my kleptomaniac tendencies from him and despite how much I deny it, I have a soft spot for him.

Next, Kiara Carrera or Kie, my best and only girl friend. I met Kie during her first year at the Kook Academy, I had seen her around before, passing out leaflets about how 'we're killing our planet' and that 'the turtles deserve better'.

I was about to go fishing with my dad when I saw someone sitting at the dock, feet dangling in the water. Long story short: she was supposed to meet up with some of her 'friends' but they had sailed away leaving her behind. So, I asked if she would like to come fishing with us, half expecting her to say no, being partly a Kook and all, but she said yes. And now she's one of us, the Pogues. Not sure how her parents feel about that, but there is no denying I'm their favourite. Right?

There's Pope Heyward. I met Pope in the first grade. We were sitting beside each other at assembly and he dared to tell me that my singing voice sounded like cats dying, not that he was any better mind you. I had seen him around the cut a few times, helping his dad with deliveries and after seeing him struggle to carry four bags of groceries, I offered him some help. Of course, being a stubborn 6-year old boy, he delined saying 'I don't need your help, I'm super strong'. Safe to say, two seconds later I was carrying two bags and helped Pope and Mr Heyward with the rest of the deliveries that day.

I got an earful from my dad when I got home, but I didn't care, I'd made a friend that wasn't my brother. They didn't believe me when I said I had a friend called Pope, just brushing it off as one of my imaginary friends. Let's just say they got a fright when my 'imaginary friend, Pope' showed up at the Château.

Speaking of, up next, John Booker Routledge, John B. My twin, fraternal twin. Is 12 minutes older than me and will never let me forget it. My favourite memory with John B was when he fought to the death with our triplet in the womb. Okay, maybe that didn't happen, but you weren't there so, where's your evidence that it didn't?

He's my other half, not my better half because we all know I'm the better twin, and I couldn't live with him and his optimism. He can be irrational at times, but he always has plan A-Z mapped out in his head. I'm currently trying to convince him that we psychic powers, and by currently I'm mean from the day we were born. It's a weird sensation like there's a pit in the bottom of my stomach, and once I get that feeling I know that something's not right. And with a brother like John B, I get that feeling at least 3 times a day.

Might as well introduce myself whilst I'm at it. I'm Mason, Mason Routledge. The better twin. Yes, I too, have a middle name but I will never tell it to anyone because of how utterly embarrassing it is. I have managed to swear John B to secrecy, but I know it's just a matter of time before he blurts it out.

Now I know what you're probably thinking, 'Mason? That's a boys name.' Well yes, you'd be right but really what is a boys or girls name? The reason why I'm called Mason is simple, mom and dad were expecting twins. Twin boys. They had the names planned out as soon as they heard the news. One would be named John B after our dad, Big John, and the other would be named Mason, after our mom's dad. Makes sense, right?. Well, it was until I popped out, y' know not being a boy. But I love my name and I wouldn't change it for the world. My unspoken middle name, however, yes, I would rather that just not be associated with me.

I like to believe that I can hold my own, maybe it's because I grow up in a predominantly male household or the fact that I'm a Pogue, but I don't take peoples shit. My friends and I seem to always have the world against us, but without a doubt, I'd ride or die for them. They're my family.

Seeing the all too familiar hippie van parked at the side off the road brings me out of my autopilot state. Jumping off the longboard, I hurriedly shoved it into the back of the van. Fun fact about John B's van, he never locks it. There would be the fear about someone stealing it, but honestly, it's trashed and smells like weed, no thanks to JJ.

Quickly scaling the fence and as quietly as possible I tip-toed into the under-construction house and up the cement stairs, dodging the dangling wires and leftover pots of plaster.

'I can't believe they got rid of the turtles for this'

I'd know that voice anywhere. Peering around the corner, I spot Kie, hunched over a table reading what I'm assuming is maps for the house. Coming up with an idea, I slowly start to creep towards her, raising my hands just to clasp them down on her shoulders, "And what do you think you're doing?" I say in the deepest voice I can muster.

Jumping out her skin with a squeal, she spins around, hand over her heart, breathing heavily, "Macy, what the fuck? Don't do that," she exclaims, slapping my arm after she realises it was only me.

Unable to stop myself from laughing at her shock, "God, Kie, didn't know you had such a girly scream," I wheeze, arms wrapped around my stomach in an attempt to stop the ache.

Nodding her head pettily, "Yeah okay, you got me," clicking her tongue, but against her best efforts, a small smile dances across her face.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm my giggles, "Once you're done with sad girl hours, come out back, I've got beer," making my way towards the open glass doors.

"Caring about the turtles doesn't make me a sad girl," she exclaims as I nod my head understandingly, "You keep telling yourself that," I wave stepping outside, breathing in the fresh ocean breeze.

From under the scaffolding, I see a pair of dangling legs, "Afternoon, boys," I announce, jumping up in an attempt to smack the dangling feet that I now know belong to JJ

"Did you get the goods?" asks John B causing me to hold my hand on my heart, mocking insult, "Do you have no faith in me Johnny boy," tosing him a beer, "Of course, I got the goods."

Holding one out for Pope, even though I knew he would decline, proving my point as he shook his head, "And where did you get said goods?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

Grabbing two beers, I begin to climb up the scaffolding, plopping down next to JJ, handing him a beer which he greatly excepts, "Are you question my morals?" I ask, taking a big gulp of my beer instantly wincing at the lukewarm taste.

"No, no," I hear him say, turning around, occupying himself with the builder's tools.

It a pretty view from up here. The calm crashing of the waves. The way the cold ocean and the warm sky meet for a perfect kiss on the horizon. Imagine living here. Having no worries. Being full Kook.

Glancing at the boy beside me, I see that he was already looking at me. Lifting my eyebrows in question, "You look cute," he cheekily says, picking at the loose thread on my sleeve.

"Very funny JJ," I saying, looking back out at the water, "No, I'm serious. I love a woman in uniform," nudging his shoulder into mine and I nudge him right back, "Hey," he laughs, dramatically falling to his side, "Watch the sweet nectar," holding his can of beer dearly to his chest.

Shaking my head, I turn to see John B scaling the house, jumping up to the peak of the roof, "Hey, please be careful, Johnny B, we don't earn enough to cover a medical bill," I warn sitting my beer beside me, using my hands to block the blinding sun, staring questionably at the boy.

"Oh, but you'd catch me though, right?" he says, now taunting the idea of falling, balancing on one foot with outstretched arms, "And break your fall? Nope," I popped, reach over to grab my can only to grasp the air. Looking at where I know I placed it, my confusion vanishes when I hear the sounds of slurping beside me.

Blinking at the boy, who just peers back at me after tanning my can, crushing it, and letting out a pleasant burp which he so graciously blows in my direction, "Gross, JJ," attempting to swat away the smell. The boy just shrugs, "What were you not done with that?" faux concern covering his face but his eyes glistening with knowing mischief.

"Should I do it?"

"Yeah, jump. I'll shoot you on the way down," says Pope, aim a drill in my brother's direction, "You'll shoot me?" John B taunts, holding up a finger gun, "Pow," he laughs as Pope fall back onto the table pretending to be shot.

"They're going to have Japanese toilets with towel warmers," complains Kie, slugging her way onto the balcony, voicing her distaste for the future Kook's beach house.

"Didn't I tell you to come out when you were done being sad?", I direct, leaning my chin against the cold pole, feeling on top of the world as the fresh breeze blows through my hair.

That swiftly changes when Kie dashes towards my feet, tugging the laces on my converses loose as I hastily attempt to lift my feet away from her snapping fingers, "Go away!" I exclaim hugging my legs to my chest, tusking at her antics "God, you're annoying."

My comment doesn't affect her as she blows me a kiss which I can't help but catch, holding it to my heart sending a wink in her direction, "This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtle I guess?"

"Well, I did, but since you've-" I start, but the feeling of my shoe gets tighter distracts me, "...What are you doing?" I question as JJ finishes up my shoes, "You should double knot your laces," he comments, tapping his fingers in a random beat on the toe of my shoes.

Lightly, I begin to flick his hand away only for him to grab my wrist, fiddling with the silver ladybug charm on my bracelet, "Can I have this?" He has asked me this multiple times in the past and the answer has always been the same, "No."

"Can you please not kill yourself?" Kie squints up at my brother, "And don't spill that beer, you're not getting another one," JJ adds just as a sudden gust of wind brushed past causing John B to lose his balance and drop his beer.

Jinx.

"Oh, shit. No!" cries John B, making grabby hands at his fallen beer.

"Of course you did, like right when I told you."

"Smooth."

"Well done, dumbass!"

"Hey!"

The sound of a car pull up to the driveway halts our attack on John B, yelling being heard, "Hey, uh, securities here. Let's wrap it up," confirms Pope, making JJ and I raise to our feet as John B slides off the roof, "Boys are here early today."

Rushing over to grab my bag once my feet are back on the balcony, I lean over the railing squinting, "Gary? Is that you?" I asked, "You know it's me, Mason."

Turning around to look at friends, "It's Gary guys," I smile, "Gary, good to see you, man!" JJ adds and quickly pulls the back of my bag when he sees Gary climb up the stairs, "JJ!"

"You two, are asking for it," Kie laughs as we all rush back through the house, all of us laughing and cheering, running down the stairs, "Go, go!" I giggled as I Gary's attempts to grab me but I duck under his swinging arms, running out to the garden.

"Not much of a hugger man," JJs joke echoing off the empty wall of the house.

Running up beside Pope, I urge him up over the fence, "Come on, Pope, go, go, go," landing on the other side, watching as he lands flat on his face, "Graceful as always Pope," I giggle pulling him back on his feet.

"Come on Pope, Fatso's coming" JJ encourages, suddenly landing beside us just barely missing the hot-headed security who is dangling over the fence, "Come here, you little pricks!"

"Bus is leaving," John B pulls up the van honking the horn, Kie opening the door for us, laughing as we shove each other in. John B wastes no time hitting the gas, driving away from the angry security.

"Check out Gary, gunnin' for a raise," Pope laughs as we watch a hopeless Gary chase after the van.

Having an idea, JJ unzips my bag and leans out of the open door, "Come on Gary," he taunts, waving the beer can in front of the man like you would a dog with a treat.

"You're going to give him a heart attack," Kie sympathises but still finds his actions amusing, "You're so close! You can do it. There you go," he tosses the can at the poor man who attempts to dodge it.

"God, they don't pay you enough, man" I laugh peering out the door, taking in the sight of Gray who is wheezing with his hands planted on his knees.

Seeing enough torture for one day, Kie tugs us back in, "That's enough," she says finally feeling sorry for the poor man, sliding the door close.

"Oh, come on. That sort of initiative is just begging to be punished," reasons JJ, plopping down in the back of the van, now finding interest fiddling with the blunt he pulled from his back pocket.

I lean my head on Kie's shoulder and sigh, "I love Gary," I confess, earning a flick on the head from Pope and a nudge on the leg from JJ

We're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time.

Prologue: FIN!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to explore Mason’s character and her adventures with the Pogues. I have so much planned for her.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction <3

71 notes · View notes

john1513kjv-blog · 5 years

Text

youtube

Mario Lopez speaks out on Pager U about transgenderism and the idea that parents are letting their children to choose their own gender, to which Mario says, it's dangerous to let your child choose their gender when they're not old enough to make such decisions.

This is what he had to say:

“Look, I’m never one to tell anyone how to parent their kids obviously, and I think if you come from a place of love, you really can’t go wrong.”

“But at the same time, my God, if you’re three years old and you’re saying you’re feeling a certain way or you think you’re a boy or a girl or whatever the case may be, I just think it’s dangerous as a parent to make this determination,” he continued. “Then, well, okay, then you’re going to a boy or a girl, whatever the case may be … It’s sort of alarming and my gosh, I just think about the repercussions later on.”

The 45-year-old entertainment host explained that when you’re that young “you don’t know anything about sexuality yet, you’re just a kid.”

https://faithit.com/mario-lopez-dangerous-kids-pick-own-gender/

Reading this, I would applaud for his statement because if we're gonna be responsible parents (as a privilege given by God), we're are to guide our children in the right way (in the way of serving and loving God) and leave the discussion of sex and gender when they are older.

Children are not mentally prepared for things like that neither they should be thinking like that.

However, sadly Lopez had to "apologize" for his statement on children picking their gender. Because his fame is much more important than God.

In a statement to PEOPLE on Wednesday, Lopez apologized for his remarks.

“The comments I made were ignorant and insensitive, and I now have a deeper understanding of how hurtful they were,” he said. “I have been and always will be an ardent supporter of the LGBTQ community, and I am going to use this opportunity to better educate myself. Moving forward I will be more informed and thoughtful.”

https://www.google.com/amp/s/people.com/tv/mario-lopez-criticized-comments-parenting-transgender-kids/amp/

This is no surprise to Christians. We are called to stand by the truth, and proclaim the gospel to those who are lost. Anyone who denies this stance concerning sexuality, is ultimately denying Christ.

Matthew 16:25-26 KJV

25 For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.

26 For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

Am I saying that telling an LGBT person this precious truth, is hate? No. Disagreement does not 100% equal hate. We are called to love our enemies and pray for those that persecute and hate us. But by no means we should shrink away from the faith because of the majority will be against you for standing for the truth.

To any of the LGBT people who will see this post, I will let you know: I don't hate you. No, in fact I will not stand for unjust treatment of LGBT kids rejected by their families. But, at the same time, I won't say that I will condone that behavior, because that's not how God created you to be.

Genesis 1:27 KJV

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

The truth is, we inherited the sinful nature of Adam and Eve, and not it caused a wall between our relationship with God, it affected our relationship with our fellow man, including our sexual relationships and how we identify ourselves.

I don't think anyone of us realizes that identifying ourselves anything other than the gender we were assigned to since birth, is a form of hatred towards God, when He had loved us and considered us His most precious treasure.

God knew us before He "formed us in our mother's womb" (Jeremiah 1:5) and has determined who we are, personality and genderwise.

And sadly, because of our rebellious, sinful nature, we choose to reject God's ways and decide we can choose our gender. God doesn't want this for His creation. He wants us to live with Him, and fix our relationship with Him. And unless there is anyway to undo this constant rebellion, any sinner (including LGBT people) that doesn't acknowledge this as an act of sin, will not be part of the kingdom of heaven.

1 Cornithians 6:9-10 ESV

Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality,10 nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

So you're probably asking, "How can I even hope to enter heaven if God says that anyone including LGBT people who does these things can't enter there"?

Well, I have good news for you. God has provided a way for all of us to really enter heaven. How he did it?

John 3:16-17 NKJV

16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him [obeys His word] should not perish but have everlasting life. 17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.

Because God loves all of you so much, that He gave His Only Son [Jesus], who He also love, that you will feel that nothing in this world, even what you identify as, will never satisfy your needs. The only one who can fill the emptiness in your heart, is Jesus. Who took the hit for you, for the punishment of sin. It was our sin (including homosexuality) that crucified Him, and it should have been us who should be crucified there. But Jesus decided to take our place there.

Because of LOVE!

It was love that by what He did, is so we can have a second chance to enter heaven again and have a relationship with God, like a father who is waiting for his rebellious son to come back.

Because God loves us so, He will not force His love towards those that don't want it. The beauty of how He created us, is that he gave us free will and the freedom to choose of we want to follow and obey Him, or choose our own way, but end up lost forever.

I hope that even someone out there, may see this that may have the hope and desire to be right with God again.

God is calling you home! The only question remains, do you want to return home?

119 notes · View notes