#that living the life he does he's accepted that he's going to die painfully and won't get a happily ever after | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skrunksthatwunk · 10 months

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ok so. kiwami 2. rooftop scene. the ending. it's a bit of a clusterfuck but i wanna talk about one detail, a problem they bring to your attention by Fucking. Talking About Her.

haruka is watching all of this unfold.

[this post is like 4.5k words long + pretty critical + has spoilers for kiwami and kiwami 2, and really minor/vague ones for a couple others. they're not that bad though, trust me (and i added a warning in the one place it is major)]

ALSO CONTENT WARNING i'm gonna talk about kiryu's passive suicidality a good amount in this one, so stay away from this if you think that might affect you negatively/you'd be better off skipping it. i'll also make a tl;dr (which i will highlight in red) at the very end if you really wanna know what my point is that will exclude those elements <3. i am also going to use a lot of choice-based language in regards to kiryu's contemplation of suicide because i think it's the lens through which the games treat the topic, but i personally don't find it a productive or realistic way to look at suicide or suicidal ideation at all. someone dying by suicide absolutely does not mean they don't care about their loved ones enough to fight on or whatever. i love you, and proceed with caution on this one.

(also i'm using the kiwamis as my point of reference because i uh. don't have a ps2? those are the games that i played, and though the differences are likely slight, i wanna be clear about that. also,, ignore the watermark on these screenshots,, i didn't notice them and i'm not retaking them. we're all gonna have to settle for youtube cutscene comps for now xoxo)

first, we have to talk about the ending of the first game.

[note: i am Really Really Confident kiryu has a conversation earlier in the game about his going to jail in nishiki's stead being him running away and choosing not to resist his two options (go to jail or let nishiki go to jail) and define his own path, fighting his way against fate to make it happen. part of why i'm so confident it exists is because it made such an impression on me at the time. it's pretty important to my interpretation of things but i also can't find it for the life of me, so uh. sorry ✌️ i really tried. this post's takes/analysis will be dependent on this scene existing, so keep that in mind. if anyone knows where to find the scene/screenshots of it, lmk and i'll add a follow-up with it]

kiwami stuff

so as she's dying, yumi tells haruka this:

that she may be dying (painfully, and right as she's getting everything she wanted), but she doesn't regret it, because at least she did something rather than running away from it all. that you shouldn't run away, ever.

shortly thereafter, when the police find kiryu and haruka, this exchange happens between him and date. here's the play by play:

date tells kiryu he can get him out of trouble with this, and that if he doesn't, he'll get life in prison; kiryu declines his help:

kiryu is so devastated (understandably) by the back to back losses of the three people closest to him that he resigns himself to life in prison, and the death-in-effect that would be. he would prefer to waste away rather than struggle through a life without them. prison was monotonous and isolating, but coming back after a decade was overwhelming, and coming back to everything being so warped and twisted, and then losing the corrupted scraps he had anyway, well. he wants to go back to sleep. he doesn't want to be in a world where everything's the same except he's on his own. better to return to safety, to die slowly in a hell he knows well than weather a new one where he has control and agency, and thus one where he has the ability to fail and to lose anything at any time. he explains to date that that loss is why he can accept his death:

date shakes him and asks him if there's really nothing left for him, no reason to keep living at all:

then echoes yumi's advice to haruka:

which makes an impression on kiryu:

date gives him a reason to live in the form of haruka, saying she'll be on her own again if he goes to jail. he hijacks kiryu's tragic protector complex to keep him alive, because she needs him, and because she's someone precious to him:

after the dust has cleared,

kiryu and date also have this exchange, where date tells him to stay away from the cops (and presumably arrest and a return to prison, the aforementioned fate akin to death), and kiryu cites haruka as his reason to stay away, one he holds to with no uncertainty (showing again that he's accepted date's logic, that his reason to keep living even when it's incredibly difficult is to care for the more vulnerable haruka). given the weight of the consequences, to me, it feels like date's telling him not to be alone with his thoughts or something. it's almost frightening:

so, what's our takeaway from kiwami?

kiryu lost everything and hit rock bottom, but he chose to fight, and to live life on his own terms, even when it got difficult. that's the narrative life lesson he had to learn to avoid repeating the events of 1995. he made that choice for haruka's sake. it's seen as growth.

and without him, haruka would've just returned to the orphanage (assuming she could make it back to sunflower at all) with no one who knew or understood what she had been through, no one to mourn with her, and no one to give her the attention, care, and protection she needs. kiryu knows what it's like to be an orphan with a limited parental figure who only checks in every so often (kazama, "aunt" yumi), and what someone will do for attention/affection from that person (via both himself and nishiki swearing up, climbing the ranks, etc. arguably haruka coming to kamurocho by herself to find "mizuki" is similar), and what it's like to lose them anyway (again, kazama, yumi). their situations parallel each others' somewhat, and that binds them further. and after losing everyone (which he blames himself for to some extent, as one can probably assume from this and 2, and something key to his arc in later games), he chooses to protect her. and this time, he won't fail. at least partially because failing would hurt him, too. he'd have nothing left again.

okay. now we get to kiwami 2.

if you forgot, the context is basically:

everybody's fighting on the roof of a building which i'm sure will not be a running theme or anything as the series goes on

there's a bomb that's about to go off and they don't know how to/can't defuse it

ryuji shot the twist villain to death, but took fatal hits to do so

sayama's like hey!! let's get out of here!!! and kiryu and ryuji are like nooo we have to settle this oughh it's punchin time and they stick her on an elevator and send her down so she doesn't have to watch

ryuji loses. sayama returns, they have a cute sibling heart to heart, and ryuji dies in her arms. sad

kiryu is in rough shape as well, and there's like 2 minutes left on the bomb's timer

here's the scene itself:

sayama tells kiryu they have to run, and kiryu says he can't. the gist is "let's run!" "you go without me" "i'm not leaving you!" "i'm in no condition to run" "i'll carry you then!!" sayama: *sees how fucked up kiryu is, realizes he's Going To Die Anyway* "ok, then i'm staying with you!" and then further bickering about that, before they give up and make out (as one does i guess)

date (he's here now) yells this at them from a helicopter:

before someone else in the helicopter tells date this:

we get this shot of haruka calling out to kiryu as the helicopter swerves away:

and kiryu and sayama have this exchange about haruka where they say they let her down, but that she'll understand:

then they hug and the bomb ticks to zero right when the credits hit. in post credits it's revealed that the twist villain defused the bomb when they weren't looking, betraying his co-villain for reasons i truthfully do not remember and am unwilling to look up. it's not about that right now.

so, how does this scene interact with the ending of the previous game?

the short answer is "badly <3" but here's the long answer:

it's about choices.

the thing about fiction is that anything you want to have happen, as a writer, can happen. it may not be effective, internally consistent, or logical, but you can write it regardless. audiences suspend their disbelief for the sake of engaging fully with your fiction, but everyone has a threshold past which they will stop being engaged in a story and either become uninvested or annoyed. writers usually have lines they're unwilling to cross as well. but in almost every story, there's at least a couple of places where they stretch reality a little to make the narrative they want happen. this is not a bad thing at all. that's how stories get told.

now, i'm gonna be real with you. i don't care about how feasible plots are like 95% of the time. it's not something i think about much, nor is it something i prioritize. i am a very character-centric media consumer, so if world building and/or plot are a bit stale or contrived, that doesn't really bother me much so long as i'm invested in the characters involved. some people can't stand plot holes or the ways musicals burst into song or whatever, and that's fine for them. but it's not something i tend to find that all that important.

this is all to say that i have a sorta affection for rgg's flavor of bullshit pulling. and it is a powerful flavor, maybe even an acquired taste, but i can and do rock with it so long as it doesn't damage the characters too much. this is why i'm not making a lengthy post howling into the void about joji kazama or the second joon-gi han or how many secret relatives there are. those things are silly and endearing and a clumsy yet heartfelt part of a series i care about very deeply. i'll joke about it, but i don't consider it much of a flaw. it's more like personality. flaws are texture, and they help a piece's identity. point is i am very, very willing and able to suspend my disbelief for these games in exchange for a good time, particularly via good characters.

(if you want another example of where i draw the line from within rgg, the answer's the YAKUZA 4 SPOILERS INCOMING rubber bullets twist, because i think 1) it's actively horrifically stupid (especially retconning a scene we SAW HAPPEN. WE SAW BLOOD ON EACH IMPACT, AND RUBBER BULLETS DON'T OFTEN BREAK SKIN THAT DEEPLY (THEIR DAMAGE IS MORE PERCUSSIVE THAN PENETRATIVE). THESE EVENTS HAPPEN IN THE SAME GAME YOU DON'T HAVE TO RETCON IT JUST REWRITE IT. OR DON'T SHOW THE HIT AT ALL SO THERE'S MORE PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. DON'T DO THIS JUST TO HYPE UP YOUR SHITTY VILLAIN NO ONE CARES ABOUT. and 2) (a bit more importantly) i think it actively removes saejima's primary internal conflict for that game, that being his intense guilt over the 18 murders he thinks he committed, one i was invested and interested in. but this isn't a rubber bullets post.)

characters in this series walk off a lot of life threatening injuries. they survive miraculously, they escape in the nick of time, and they pull through in the end. kiryu still somehow hasn't killed anyone. almost every game in his saga ends with an "is kiryu gonna make it out this time?!?" shortly followed by a "yeah lol. lmao" postcredits reveal. kiryu fucking punches a marble statue into dust in the first game. having a story that asks you to suspend your disbelief so much and so often means that when a decision is made, it's not the writers saying, "well, this would have to happen so we are obligated/forced to write it happening" so much as "we wanted this to happen for some reason(s)," because you already know that they're not guided solely by logic. again, this is true of all writers, it's just amplified in stories like these because they've already given you so many hard mode suspension of disbelief moments (they've broken you in like leather, yeah? or like how obvious internet scams allow for self selection by being so obvious that only the most vulnerable people would fall for them. they curate an audience willing to play along with their bullshit flavor so they can tell a story that's more likely to satisfy that audience. in a good way, in a fun way! mass appeal is overrated). there is not much limit to what this series is willing to try and sell you.

so when ryuji takes lethal damage taking out the big bad, that's a choice. when he doesn't die immediately, that's a choice. when ryuji and kiryu send sayama away in the soon-to-be-forgotten elevator so they can settle this like men or whatever despite the literal actual bomb about to go off, that's a choice. when sayama comes back, that's a choice. when ryuji does die, that's a choice. when kiryu determines that he can't escape in time, that's a choice. when sayama is unwilling to leave him, that's a choice. when she says she'll carry him out and there's an elevator right fucking there and then she's like never mind i guess i won't anymore we're dying together right now kiryu like they're not gonna even try?? wouldn't distancing themselves from the blast give themselves a better shot, something that's super possible given the 2 minutes they have with that elevator??? sayama you met him like a week and a half ago why are you ready to die with him that's not a plot hole i just think that's kinda strange whatever anyway, that's a choice. when kiryu stops arguing with her so they can kiss (next to her brother's corpse), that's a choice. when date shows up, that's a choice. when the helicopter can't save them because the bomb was going to go off too soon, that's a choice. when they put haruka in that helicopter and take her away, let her only impact be reminding kiryu and sayama that they can't help her, that's a choice. when they spend their last moments talking as if they're already dead, then simply waiting, that's a choice.

they're all choices that the writers made for the characters, and we are asked to believe them for the sake of achieving the writers' vision, as with any story. the only problem is that the writers' vision here fucking blows.

i'm not saying it would be realistic for kiryu and sayama (and even ryuji) to make it out alive, but it wouldn't be out of character for the series in the slightest. kiryu is suddenly unable to power through here, and that's a choice. so, what is their vision?

put simply, i think they wanted a romantic last stand for kiryu and sayama, a tragic scene of doomed, devoted lovers. and i think they wanted an edge-of-your-seat fake out death. they wanted spectacle.

here's how some specific choices they made undermine all that shit we talked about earlier from the first game.

once again, kiryu is called by date to live, to pick himself up and keep going, no matter how impossible the odds are. he's even reminded by haruka's presence, his one anchor in keeping himself going. the growth he had in the parallel scene in the previous game is challenged, and he fails.

it's not enough this time. and that's a choice.

it's also one i can't think of a good reason for, and that's the real kicker.

characters can have developmental backslide just like people do, and if they're given good reason for it, it can be just as, if not far more compelling that purely linear growth (i am a chimera ant arc enjoyer, and that's all i'll say. sorry if you haven't seen hunter x hunter. uhh. i am also a zuko avatar enjoyer if that helps). but i can't think of anything that happened in that game that would cause this from a character perspective. if anything, kiryu should be less likely to do this intentionally. he's spent around a year raising haruka, and a year has passed since he lost his loved ones. at the very least, the pain should be more dull, though it is established through an early nightmare sequence that his ass is (justifiably) not over it yet. given that their deaths were the initial motivation for his willingness to rot forever, theoretically, he should be more motivated to stay alive than before now that he's got more investment and stability in his life outside of them, particularly when it comes to haruka, his reason for surviving. and if the ongoing nature of the trauma was the motivator for this, then they should've had it affect him more past that nightmare scene (it really serves more as a recap of the last game than anything else) so it didn't come out of nowhere. so the reminder of the lesson that saved his life and then guided it for at least a year afterwards, one that the whole resolution of the previous game relied on heavily falls flat for... some reason.

i think this is a good time to mention that, generally speaking, you don't write arbitrary choices into characters. sure, people in real life are often sporadic, but when analyzing fictional characters, every choice is filed into a portfolio of characterization that can and should be analyzed. going for pure realism can obfuscate their development, motivations, themes, etc. their choices and reactions may be unorthodox, but they must be internally consistent. this is very related to how i view plot contrivance as well. characters drive the plot, not the other way around. stories are about the ways characters affect their worlds/lives and vice versa, and they're the human face to the themes and ideas the writers are trying to explore and express. maybe my stance on this seems hypocritical. i don't know if it is. but to me, plot issues are usually a matter of engagement and investment, while character issues are a matter of substance.

i hope this doesn't feel patronizing explaining all of this, but i want you guys to know where i'm coming from in my analysis. starting at my base philosophy on writing is the easiest way to do that, i feel. defining the terms of the debate, and all that. anyway

and i mean, look. they survive because "it was defused the whole time we just didn't see it happen", so it's not like narrative tension or realism or whatever was THAT big of a priority overall. if it was gonna be a cop-out anyway, they should'nt have ruined kiryu's development too, yeah?. and sayama fucks off to america after this game anyway, so it's not like the doomed lovers thing had much payoff or meaning after this one (though you could argue that's more an issue with yakuza 3 than yk2, which has some merit to it). which means that they chose to sacrifice kiryu's prior development and internal logic for the sake of cheap tension for their finale that was both kinda illogical in and of itself (the elevator!! the elevator!!!) and a romantic climax that neither required nor really benefitted from this staging. (like. you coulda had them make out and then get saved by date, or kiss on the elevator in a "it's moving, but will we make it in time??" way or whatever. look i'm not saying those are great options either but they're SOMETHING okay. it would remove/reduce the amount of time wasted on characters sitting around with their thumbs up their asses for no reason in this finale).

instead the message of this finale is that, actually, sometimes it is impossible to change your circumstances and fight for your own way out of an awful situation. and what should you do about this unfortunate truth? uh. die! i guess. it's the exact opposite of the encouraging, optimistic message of the last game. zetsubou chou pride my ass.

note: i feel i should mention that when suicidality is brought up within the series (particularly in substories), it is always something someone has to overcome themselves through wanting it badly enough. they simply need the inspiration and the motivation to keep going. it's arguably treated as a moral obligation. frankly, the series is broadly very meritocratic (<- bad) when it comes to this topic (and others, but that's a Whole Other Thing. see akiyama's weird loan shark tests as well). sheer will and resolve is enough to conquer any problem, be it physical or mental/emotional, and it's irresponsible to act/feel otherwise. this is the logic the games operating under, and kiryu is often the mouthpiece for this bootstrap-pulling "tough love" sentiment. so when kiryu "chooses" to die, yet faces no emotional fallout from date, haruka, or anyone else, it feels very out of place. it's not just an odd choice; it's specifically, once again, an odd choice to make in context of the game/series/character it appears in.

kiryu's just like eh, haruka'll watch her only family die right as she gets some sense of tentative stability and lets her guard down after a devastating month the year prior (and a relatively dismal upbringing before that) that we trauma bonded over. sure, she likely came to view me as the one who would stay no matter what, who was too strong to be taken out, who she could always rely on, and so i know that dying would hurt her immensely, but she's smart enough to know it'd happen eventually. her eventual recovery means it's okay for me to do this (somehow, in a way it wasn't in the first game). it's an excuse within the narrative's logic, and one it is uncritical of simply because it's kiryu. he gets a pass.

and i think with the previously mentioned passive suicidality and general series-long mental health issues kiryu displays (i mean. yakuza 5's literally his depression arc), this could be retroactively seen as an interesting choice, like a piece in that particular narrative. i don't even dislike that viewing, especially in terms of fan approach. but (assuming this went down the same in yakuza 2), they likely didn't have that in mind. all they had then was the first game and the movie. and they took the first game's Entire Message and contradicted it for nothing but a scene they wanted to have happen because it'd be suspenseful and/or emotional (without actually doing the work to earn it). and they're not fans trying to analyze his character, they're the ones making choices for him. and they chose to massacre my boy. and if the subject of kiryu's mental health was a priority of theirs, why didn't they explore that? haruka and date's feelings on him not resisting and their words not being enough (whether that blame is justified by the narrative or not (it shouldn't be btw)), the uncomfortable drifting that resigning yourself to death and living afterwards anyway often brings, literally any conversation about it besides the minimal shit we get post credits of date being like "did you know about the bomb not having a fuse?" which like. bad answer either way (which is why they weren't straightforward about it, the cowards). you can't just be like "oh uh. idk he just gave up this time. yeah he was gonna die on purpose for some reason. good thing the bomb was fake lol" and then pack up and go home!! that's stupid!! any merit the idea of kiryu dying by suicide in this scene and in this way could have had from a character-based perspective loses its weight because 1. it didn't happen (for kinda stupid reasons), which makes it fall flat and 2. no one is really affected by the fact that it almost did, including him. they sacrificed his ass and replaced it with nothing, even when there could have been interesting outcomes to it.

so the narrative effectively chose to kill him by making the situation impossible, and this impossibility is ultimately arbitrary, given the series' usual approach to miraculous, illogical escapes. that, or the choice to stay was up to kiryu and sayama, one that 1. doesn't make sense and is actively regressive in context of kiryu's arc in the only other game in the series (as well as his whole saga in retrospect) and 2. one that contradicts how the series sees/treats resignation to death/death by suicide in all other contexts without being addressed, challenged, or condemned in ways it would in all other contexts. because they don't want you to think about it like that. they want you to think he (and the narrative) had no choice, that it made sense to do that. but it didn't. it doesn't.

and look, honestly? if i was bleeding out and had like 2 minutes to live, there's a non zero chance i'd say fuck it and kiss a girl too. i get it. but i am (and this is crucial) not a fucking yakuza character. and i'm certainly not kiryu kazuma.

tl;dr (basically just rephrasing the second to last main paragraph)

there are not sufficient character reasons for kiryu and sayama not trying to escape. additionally, because the narrative regularly facilitates even less likely escapes, it's not so constrained to logic and reality that it couldn't pull this one off. the choice to let their situation be impossible this one time was a cheap and arbitrary way of forcing a scene they thought would be cool and dramatic, and in doing so they chose to cannibalize a key emotional note of the previous finale (namely kiryu's mission to dedicate his life to protecting haruka) for hollow last minute stakes-upping in this one. it is then completely disregarded anyway. god damn.

#got so into this post that i used tumblr on my laptop for the first time to surpass mobile's image limit #i also added transcriptions in the alt text (which i should do more often)#actually thinking about it in the movie kiryu teaches haruka that lesson about stumbling on.. and she's the one to ask to follow him... hm.#just interesting given that the movie came out before 2. i don't think it makes much of a difference to the post it's just neat to me #one of my favorite parts of writing this was skimming through a bunch of yk1/yk2 cutscenes and noticing how often kiryu pats haruka's head #it happens a lot more than i remembered and it's very sweet to me. get bonked little one <3 #another good thing was realizing you can edit tags when you're not on mobile.... fucking life changing. i have lost hours to mobile tag #editing and i'm not even kidding about that #speaking of editing this one took like 6 hours.. my brother used “yakuza autism” (verb) for me earlier and it's so true. source: this post #i did have a short break to get food bc i hadn't eaten all day but that's mostly because i woke up at 3pm. anyway #also if you like kiwami 2's ending you're not even remotely alone. i looked at the comment sections of the scene comps and ppl love it #and more power to you!! i like it when people enjoy things. and tbh i DO have feelings that i'm supposed to about that ending #i just also have feelings you're not supposed to. like. anger. i guess.#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #skrunk meta #aww yeah it's a new tag babeyy #yakuza kiwami 2 #kiwami 2 #yakuza #like a dragon #yk2 #kiryu kazuma #sawamura haruka #sayama kaoru #maybe my thoughts'll change after replaying the games...? it's been like a year and a half since i beat yk2 so i am a bit fuzzy on it #yakuza kiwami spoilers #yakuza kiwami 2 spoilers

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ystrike1 · 2 years

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I'll Twist the Neck of a Sweet Dog (8.5/10)

This particular reincarnation story is about obsession, and how toxic it can be. It's a painfully realistic Cinderella story about a girl that was adopted into a noble family. She was kept alive because of her beauty. This is not a kind or soft story. Cinderella doesn't magically get a loving family or the perfect life. Her beauty throws her into a storm of political chaos that eventually drives her mad. Every single chapter so far is miserable. Prepare yourself.

Chloe Gonesh is the illegitimate daughter of Count Gonesh. Her mother was a beautiful, poor peasant. They became homeless when Chloe was very young. Her mother took her across the country, through the woods, to find Count Gonesh. Chloe's mother begged for money, and sanctuary, for her beloved daughter.

The Count's men beat her to death with sticks, but the family spared Chloe that day. The child was beautiful. Her face reminded the Count of the irresponsible love he felt for the dead peasant woman. Chloe's mother was killed because the Count is married with a son. Keeping a lover around would shame his wife. Killing the woman, and keeping Chloe, was the sanest option in the Count's eyes. He keeps her in the basement out of pity.

Grand Duke Kylos saves her. He's her distant relative. She calls him uncle most of the time, and they look alike, but she quickly falls in love with him. Kylos teaches her how to write, dance, and play piano. He gives her dozens of pretty gowns and his castle makes the Gonesh house look like a hovel. She is blinded by all of his gifts. She would do anything for him.

Anything.

Kylos is a popular bachelor. He is the bastard son of the previous Emperor. He earned the position he has with his skill and his ruthlessness. Every woman in Asta wants to marry him, because the Emperor is already taken. He's the next best man. Kylos wants to be the best. He wants to kill his half brother and become the Emperor. He needs a gorgeous puppet like Chloe to do that.

Emperor Raymond took the throne when he was fourteen, and he's a monster. No one sane would challenge him. He's a legendary warrior, and his wife Daria comes from a powerful nation. Their loveless political marriage has made the country strong. Kylos makes their relationship rot with cowardly tricks. He poisons the Empress to make her infertile, which puts more strain on a marriage that was already loveless. Then, he spends years grooming Chloe into the Emperor's perfect partner. He makes his puppet irresistible and mysterious. He keeps Chloe hidden until she's an adult, and he spreads rumors about her bewitching beauty.

Chloe loves Kylos more than anything, and he knows that. She is the perfect spy and the perfect weakness. Kylos tells her to have the Emperor's child, and then he has the perfect hostage too. Chloe's smile drives Emperor Raymond mad. He divorces his wife, and loses most of his political power.

When he tries to crown Chloe all of his enemies rise up at once. Emperor Raymond loves Chloe, and his child. He's willing to do anything to have the happy family he couldn't have with the former Empress. Kylos is a snake, so he uses to dirtiest tricks possible to kill Raymond.

He takes Chloe and the baby hostage. Kylos tells the Emperor to accept death or watch them die. Chloe thinks that Raymond will abandon her and save himself, but he doesn't. He lets the men Kylos hired drag him to the dungeon. Then Kylos crushes his spirit. He tells Raymond everything before he dies. He explains every facet of his grand plan with Chloe by his side, but she feels guilty now. She doesn't know if she loves Raymond, but she does love their child. She understands his desire for a family and affection.

Raymond is hurt by her betrayal, but he's relieved. He thought Kylos was going to kill her. He wants her to live on with their child. Chloe slowly starts to snap. After Raymond dies she realizes that he really loved her. He was willing to work hard for her sake. He never used dirty tricks to get ahead, and he was a simple man underneath his lofty attitude. Kylos and Raymond are half brothers, but they are not alike.

Kylos has a fiance. He used Chloe's love until the bitter end and gave her absolutely nothing. He romanced his blond bombshell fiance while he made her spy on Raymond for him. That blond woman becomes Empress, not Chloe. After everything she did for Kylos she gets pushed aside and ignored. After he becomes Emperor he hides her baby from her. Months pass. Her escort knight sneaks her out. They find her baby, but it's a trap. Kylos kills the knight, and the baby. Chloe isn't a perfect puppet that only cares about him anymore. He's upset that she cares about a baby with Raymond's blood. After her child dies Chloe can barely speak. The new Empress comes into her room, and gives her a vial of poison. Chloe drinks it because she wants to be with her child.

Then she wakes up the night after her child was conceived with a thirst for revenge...and an insanely strong Emperor by her side.

I hope this revenge will be bloody.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #I'll Twist the Neck of a Sweet Dog

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 1 year

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Before the new recruits say their oaths and become black brothers, Commander Mormont gave them a speech where he told them to forget their past - including their families and their houses loyalities.

"At evenfall, as the sun sets and we face the gathering night, you shall take your vows. From that moment, you will be a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch. Your crimes will be washed away, your debts forgiven. So too you must wash away your former loyalties, put aside your grudges, forget old wrongs and old loves alike. Here you begin anew.

"A man of the Night's Watch lives his life for the realm. Not for a king, nor a lord, nor the honor of this house or that house, neither for gold nor glory nor a woman's love, but for the realm, and all the people in it. A man of the Night's Watch takes no wife and fathers no sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor. And you are the only sons we shall ever know.

It is interesting to note that before becoming a black brother, Jon had denied being a Stark twice. The first time was on the very first chapter, where Jon after discovering the direwolves he convinced his father to keep them. Since the direwolves were only five, he selflessly removed himself from getting a pup so all his nobleborn siblings would get one. He explained his behavior by saying that he wasn’t a Stark in name:

Their father understood as well. "You want no pup for yourself, Jon?" he asked softly.

"The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark," Jon pointed out. "I am no Stark, Father."

Later on when he was already at the Wall, he started having wolf dreams. On these dreams he also denied being a Stark:

And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It's black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of. I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream."

That isn’t to say that Jon doesn’t love his family. He does love them dearly and that’s why he was about to dissert and go aid his brother on his war campaign when he found out about his father’s fate on Kings Landing. However, loving some people doesn’t mean you always belong with them. He never felt Winterfell was his home in the way the rest of his siblings felt because he wasn’t totally welcomed there. He wasn’t accepted by everyone (and the fact that the Lady of the Castle with all her authority didn’t want him there made it worse).

Likewise, he never felt totally a Stark in the sense that his siblings felt. He dreamed as a child that he would do something so brave that his father would give him Ice as a reward (it was father’s approval he yearned for and a wish for Ned Stark to ackwoledge him as an equally worthing child as the rest of his siblings).However, he knew that it was only a dream which wouldn’t happen and he was painfully aware that he would always have a below status than the rest of his family.

He wasn’t a true Stark..had never been one, but he could die like one.

Jon never truly belonged in Winterfell. So when he was forced to join the Night’s Watch,he hoped to find his place in the world there. Somewhere he could belong. He found people he was close to but unfortunetely the tragic event at the end of ADWD shattered the illusion of another place he almost belonged.

#jon snow #the night's watch #house stark #asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls #jon snow meta

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

Text

Hear me now (Jotun Loki x Female Reader AU) (18+)

Read chapter 21 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 22

Summary : Loki is done with Priscilla. You accept your fate.

Trigger Warning : mention of cancer, killing, murder, discussion of disease and death.

You heard her loud and clear. But you stopped listening to her after she mentioned that word. You can't have cancer, you always thought of yourself as invincible, always thought that a malignant disease would never get you because you were supposed to live a long unhappy life where you'd be old and miserable forever, especially after Bluey was gone from your life, that's how you imagined your future. The thought of dying so soon did scare you though, you never wanted to die so painfully.

"Y/n?" Wanda called out to you and you snapped out of your thoughts.

"Did you hear anything I said?" You nodded as she questioned. How could you have lung cancer of all cancers? You never touched a cigarette in your life.

"But I never..I never smoked in my life and I started to drink just recently..I..how could I have lung cancer?" Your eyes teared up and she looked at you sympathetically

"It's the major cause of such type of cancer but not always, your case is uncommon and rare especially if you lived a smoke free life but sometimes it's hereditary, passed on from parents" she told you and you chuckled. Well if they had cancer you'd never know, all you found out was that your biological mother left you in an orphanage in Washington when you were just one month old.

Rare, your life loves that rarity apparently, that's why you found Bluey and fell in love with him.

"I know it's tough to take a news like that, your life is going to change and if you need someone to talk to, I can recommend a–"

You cut her off mid sentence before she could recommend a psychologist or a support group. Insurance wouldn't cover that.

"It's alright..I am fine..I just ..I just need some time to process" she nodded as she heard that.

"About the treatment, we can do chemo to stop the aggressive cancerous cells from spreading further-" you cut her off again and felt snobbish for doing so but you didn't want chemo or any other treatment. Especially when you knew it was malignant.

"I don't want chemo..I can't afford it and I just..I don't want to..thank you for your time Doctor Maximoff"

You didn't want to shred in pieces, you knew what chemo does to a person. You saw it in movies. By the time you are done with it, you will become the broken shell of a person you used to be once, and for what? Five or so more years? That's not even guaranteed. You didn't think you wanted that anymore. You didn't understand the point of your life, you had no purpose for now. And maybe that's why this was happening. Maybe you were supposed to die young.

You went home and sat on the information, you can't tell anyone, if you do they would want you to get chemotherapy and fight the disease or worse they'll inform Bluey and he'll come running back to you to fix you. Then he'd leave you again to be with his family, and you would be here, alone, nothing to live for.

Your life has always been troublesome, you never understand why your parents didn't want you, then you felt incomplete all your life. You were lucky enough to find Bluey but he was taken away too. You were a janitor working to live and get by, you had no hope for the future anymore. Maybe this was for the best.

You could feel the panic building in your chest as the thoughts of your inevitable death started to scare you, so you got up and laid down inside the freezer, that always comforted you.

Maybe this was Karma, you committed a crime and hid it when Rogers was killed, maybe this was your comeuppance. You didn't know how long you had but you were ready for it, you just hoped that Bluey would never find out about this because you knew if he did he would blame himself for not healing you.

He turned around to glare at her, the realization of the truth hit him like a rock. He remembered that day clearly now. He was by the lake, he was lost in his head, trying to find some inner peace after a rough day. He never could find it before he met you, but spending time in solitary as he meditated did bring him some comfort.

He smelled Priscilla's perfume, an essence that he made, made from roses that he grew in his own garden. It was a birthday gift that he gave her last year. He didn't buy things for her, he tried to make it, hoping that it'd feel more personal, that she would appreciate it more than the fabricated products but how wrong he was.

She used his gift against him.

When he got the whiff of that essence in the air around him that day, he thought it was Priscilla, that's why he wasn't alarmed, the village has always been a safe place for him. And that's when he was shot.

"You helped him, Rogers, you wanted me gone" her eyes widened while Loki's voice trembled with the searing pain he felt in that moment. The woman he married and vowed to protect wanted him dead and gone forever. She didn't care what was to happen to him once they took him.

6 months ago

Priscilla was in the city, she was meeting a businessman from Barrow, she just had to accompany him, have sex with him and in return she was to be paid a thousand dollars. It was quick money for her and she knew her useless husband can't grow or make money on trees like he grows vegetables and flowers.

"Hi" a gentleman approached her and he sat down next to her. This wasn't the man she was planning to meet.

"Do I know you?" She asked him and he kissed the back of her hand.

"Not yet" he winked at her and took her back to his hotel room. He had been keeping his eyes on her, she came from that village where this rumored god was staying. He wanted that creature anyhow to impress the Starks. He fucked her and then he promised to pay her alot for the information. At first she denied that she knew him or anything about him. She needed Loki to survive in that village but then Rogers manipulated her, told her that her life would be much easier, he fed her the plan of telling the villagers that Loki ran away and abandoned them all.

Eventually she agreed, life would be much easier without Loki if she gets to keep the house, she wouldn't have to make excuses to sneak out. She'd miss the sex but then she loved money more than anything.

His men were ready. They sneaked inside the village at night with the help of Priscilla, she hid them inside her now deceased parents' house, it has fallen apart since they died but it was enough to hide them for one night. Next morning she fought with Loki on purpose, he didn't do anything but she had to make him go to that lake alone, his happy place, so they could capture him and she knew he went there whenever he was upset.

Then she gave that perfume to Rogers so he could mask his own scent and she knew Loki wouldn't suspect anything or get alarmed if it was his wife around him.

When Loki noticed a presence behind him he thought it was Priscilla, for a moment he thought she was there to apologize to him. Not even in his worst nightmare he thought that something harmful could happen to him in this village or around her.

He was shot in the head at a closed range, it took a few minutes for his brain to regenerate, Rogers shoved him in the trunk of his car and drove Priscilla's house, his men were ready to place him in the tank and she showed them a deserted way they could use to escape and get into the city. They fled away and she counted the wads of cash Rogers gave her as soon as she came home. Bullet never came out from the other side and was lodged in his head, that's why he couldn't regain his memories.

"Get out of my house" She started crying as soon as she heard that.

"No Loki it was a mistake I swear, he threatened to kill me, I had to do what he said" she started begging to him but he had heard enough, he was done with her. She tried to kill him, she didn't care about him even a least bit, all she cared about was the things he could give her. His name, his status in the village, his house and his healing powers but she could live without it because doctors existed for a reason. That's all he was worth for her. She knew very well that they would never say anything to her knowing that she was his wife.

"Leave Alvis here and I need you out of my house before I kill you and bury you right where you are standing" his eyes seemed angry, he was furious and he could have killed her right then. She flinched as she heard him screaming.

"I'm taking my son" she told him meekly and he shook his head.

"Alvis will stay here where he's safe and protected from a monster like you" she quickly went down on her knees and started to beg him to let her stay. He snickered in response, he never thought he'd see this day someday.

He wished he never would have married her but he didn't want the history to repeat. Something awful happened in this village almost three decades ago and a child had to suffer, he couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't allow Alvis to grow up without a parental figure in his life.

"Why are you crying Priscilla? You have all the money you wanted and I'm sure you have more, you can live on your own" he picked her up by the shoulder and dragged her with him until he was out of the house then he pushed her away from him.

"Alvis will get the care and the love that he deserves. Why don't you obtain another baby? Those papers can solve all of your complications, am I right?" He closed the door and she started screaming and yelling. Her voice reached down the hill and people of the village started to accumulate to watch the scene.

"Finally she's getting what she deserves, he never should have married her" Darcy said to Debra and both of the women had tears in their eyes. Loki didn't deserve for his kindness to be played like this. Darcy saw Rogers that day when Priscilla sneaked him into the village, but she didn't know who he was or why he was there. Ever since Loki came here he only wanted to flourish this place and its people, but not everyone here was worthy of his blessings.

"He did what he thought was right, especially when he learned of what Trisha had done all those years ago. He had sworn that no woman will have to suffer through the same thing here ever again" Debra spoke as she wiped her tears.

"He wasn't here at the time was he?" Darcy asked her and she shook her head

"He came a year later, he learned about it from the people of the village and it broke his heart"

Priscilla walked down the hill and begged the villagers to take her in, claiming that Loki was unfaithful and had gotten abusive since he returned but obviously nobody paid heed to her nuisance.

Loki grabbed Alvis in his arms and cuddled him as he cried his heart out, the sweet boy in his embrace wiped the tears and his heart was breaking for his little Alvis. He was just a child and he deserved to be with his mother but he knew that leaving him with a woman like Priscilla would only damage him and scar him for life. He had to take care of him by himself.

Priscilla went to the city and didn't look back, she threatened him that she'd tell everyone about him but he could always turn into a human if she tried that. He had a name, an identity, he was a resident of the village and he had all these people by his side who'd die for him If worst comes to worst. He had nothing to be afraid of anymore. He only lacked one thing, his y/n.

He wanted to get back to you desperately but he couldn't with Alvis by his side. He didn't even know if you would want a child in your life, a child that belonged to someone else? You both never talked about it. Forget that, he didn't even know whether you'll have him anymore after how he abandoned you. He thought he was doing the right thing but it cost him the most precious person in his life.

A few days passed and you started to get more and more sick, your cancer was spreading rapidly but you didn't start the treatment, it was expensive, time consuming and you had no will to go through all that pain.

You coughed as you mopped the bathroom of the store you worked at. Natasha kept asking you to see a doctor but you told her that it was just a respiratory infection. Luckily for you, She and Bruce were out of town for the next few days as Bruce had a convention to attend in Chicago and you were thankful for that. If he finds out he would definitely call Bluey and tell him everything. The last thing you wanted was for him to come here and get himself in trouble again. People were horrible here. You also didn't want to cause any problems between him and Priscilla anymore.

"You don't seem fine honey, what's wrong, I know a sick person when I see one" Phil said to you as you made dinner so you smiled.

"I'm absolutely fi–" you coughed and groaned as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. You had a handkerchief in your hand, and his eyes widened as he looked at it, all red with blood.

"I knew something was wrong with you, what are you hiding?" His eyes teared up but you didn't tell him anything so he stormed out of your apartment. He was upset with you, so upset that you would hide something like this from your friends. You begged him to not tell anyone and that hurt him even further.

He couldn't just watch you wither away and die like this. You are not just his friend, you are his daughter and he would never want his child to waste herself away like this.

Two days later you woke up and showered but you didn't have any energy to carry on with the day or go to work. You were coughing out blood and your body had no strength left. You flinched as you heard a knock on the door and you knew Natasha was here to confront you.

Phil must have told her that something was wrong with you, she was supposed to return from the trip yesterday. You took a deep breath before you opened the door. She was going to be so angry with you and rightfully so. You didn't want to face her wrath but you had to. You can't avoid her forever.

Your eyes teared up as you looked at the man that was standing on your door, wearing that long overcoat that seemed way too familiar.

"Hello my little darling"

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️‍🩹💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Taglist :

@el-zef @pinestwinssimp @froggiecky @snigdha-14 @howdidurhammergrowchris @annoyingsweetsstranger @michelleleewise @123forgottherest @nada-duskwood @mcufan72 @xorpsbane @colifower @daddylokisqueen @juulle987 @asgardianprincess1050 @perhaps-just-june @lokisgoodgirl @athwna @eyesbluelikethetitanic @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @lokisninerealms @huntress-artemiss @justasecretwriter @emma-laufeyson @catalina712 @nixymarvelkins @disneyismyworldforever @multifandom-world8

#loki #loki x female reader #jotun loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader angst #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #jotun loki fics #jotun loki au #alternate universe

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moonlayl · 2 years

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could be just me being aromantic again but I hate how fitz and jemma putting each other over the entire world is romantic and healthy. An obvious co-depenacy, plus, it's just... it's like they get to love each other so that makes it ok to be not only a shitty friend, but a shitty person. I'm not saying "he should have let Jemma die" but he can't apply that logic of "I love my friends and people around me so I did that" when it comes to what he did to daisy. Even in the framework, jemma does really dumb stuff for lOvE and THEN EXCUSES FITZ FOR HURTING DAISY LIKE THAT IN SEASON 5. it's so annoying. she just became "I love fitz" and like, nothing else after season 2 or early 3 ish. It's so painfully obvious that they put themselves above others. I know they "keep getting ripped apart" but that doesn't excuse shitty actions. they can be as annoying and sickeningly in love as they like and not hurt their friends, but after what happened in season 5, I'm just so tired of it. this wouldn't be acceptable if it was platonic so why does this romance get a pass?

Exactlyyyyy!

Listen, I am a sucker for the “in order to save the person I love (or the world), I endanger myself” trope, because the idea of not being able to handle the person you care about hurting, and wanting them to live on, or be safe, or the idea of wanting to save people, at the expense of yourself is, while absolutely heartbreaking, actually something decent??? And heroic? I mean it’s bad in the sense of “why do you have so little self worth?????“ but at the same time, it’s understanding that sometimes there’s something bigger than you, and you could help many people. It’s not always about not having self worth either. You can have a lot of self worth but still recognize that a movement, or a decision can be much bigger than yourself and could lead to a better life for many, even if it’s at your expense, which is just unfortunate and horrifying. This trope has so much room for angst and pain and love, and I’m obsessed with it.

But that’s the key part. It being at YOUR expense.

With fitzsimmons, it’s no longer about that. It’s suddenly, “actually I’m willing to risk EVERYONE ELSE” to have you. To save you.

THAT is what infuriates me and makes me seriously roll my eyes when they go through terrible things in the later seasons and I’m expected to…be upset? Sympathize?

Like…sorry but a guy willing to risk his entire team, and THE WHOLE WORLD, and a woman who’s entire character ends up revolving around this guy, who also ends up wiling to risk other people for their “happily ever after” or whatever, they’re just…not good people.

The amount of times it’s happened too…

Like starting in s3, every season one of them makes the a decision like that. In the later seasons, they both mage those decisions during separate occasions in the season.

I’m still not over s7 where half the team were literally murdered by Enoch, because he was programmed BY fitz and simmons to kill. Like if it hadn’t been for the time loop, their team could’ve been literally dead. And for what? To protect their daughter?

It makes no sense and I’ve spoken about it before. If the team had died, their daughter still wouldn’t have been safe because the chronicoms would’ve won and either destroyed earth, or changed the past so that she wouldn’t have existed in the first place. Like??? They were SO stupid in s7.

Don’t get me started on Fitz deciding that abandoning 7.9 billion people to the chronicom problem (that would’ve led them all to die or be enslaved) after HE organized for that issue to be brought to their doorstep, was a good idea. And then when the rest of the team are like??? We’re not going to abandon them to die?? He’s like “that decreases our chances of succeeding to 85%”

THOSE ARE HUMAN LIVES YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.

And Jemma in s6?

Daisy, Piper and Davis: “we’ve been in outer space for a year with hardly any leads. Davis has a baby son he never got to know, we should head back because we’re running low on resources, and if we stay here for much longer, we might not be able to get back”

Jemma: “well, even though Daisy is the leader of the mission and should be the one making the shots, and even though all of you have sacrificed a lot this past year to help ME, I’m going to spit on all of that and force you to accompany me further, despite our dwindling resources and all the risks, because I have a feeling I might find fitz, even though our journey has been useless so far.”

And it’s not until she’s drunk that she offers a ridiculously awful apology that Daisy accepts immediately.

She does the same in the framework. They all almost didn’t make it back to the real world, and almost DIED for good, because she once again, went against Daisy’s orders (it’s a pattern at this point, we should make a gif set. S4 vs s5 vs s6, simmons having zero respect for Daisy’s authority) for fitz.

It’s just frustrating.

To be fair though, while not the same, both Daisy and May did a similar thing at the end of s5 (which made me soo mad) but the difference I guess is that they did firmly believe Coulson would’ve been able to get to Talbot, and Robin, a girl who sees the future, implied Coulson was crucial to the whole “preventing the end of the world” thing. Still annoyed me.

Sorry for taking so long to reply anon. I hope you don’t mind me ranting lol. Thank you for sending in this ask!

#anti fitzsimmons #anti leopold fitz #anti jemma simmons #aos #aos meta #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#anon #layl.inbox

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daeificatio · 8 months

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to forget is to die, to look back is to be left behind

tw: dissociation

A void.

His pain and injuries were gone, his mind felt slightly jumbled but clearer than before. As he opened his eyes, Byleth found himself in a world apart from the one he knew. A disembodied voice that he didn’t recognize talked to them as if they were its toys or playthings much to Sothis’ annoyance, but Byleth was much more focused on the fact that their missing companions were back and healthy- and the town before them wasn’t real.

It was toy-like, almost like an upscaled diorama. It filled him with a strange sensation, the disconnect bothering him deeply but without a chance to analyze why, because the voice was quick to inquire them.

“What role do you play?”

Bright markings appeared throughout the false town, though only one caught the professor’s attention. Just around the corner, a mannequin pierced another with a sword- the sight oddly realistic considering what composed the scene. A murder taking place, perhaps the settling of a deal- or maybe an ordered service. Byleth’s eyes couldn’t remove themselves from that sight, part of his brain already set on what he had to do. What his role was- or rather, what his role was supposed to be.

Perhaps not to himself, but to the rest of the world. Byleth was a murderer. A hitman. He took lives for money and his blade belonged to whoever had the deepest pockets. A demon with no expression who prowled around forests.

His feet took him to the position of the aggressor. Gloved hands closed around the sword’s hilt and there he stood, in a pose that has been repeated time and time again in his life so far. Even as a child, Byleth remembers. He remembers the first time he killed a human, he was a child and it wasn’t much different from what he was doing now.

To the voice above, it seemed enough. While some of his companions were punished for apparently making incorrect choices, Byleth was spared. It felt bitter and unearned. He had never been one to engage in self commiseration, but it felt wrong to be spared over admitting to this.

What does this mean to you, the girl in his mind commented.

Are you coming to terms with who you are?

Or are you accepting defeat?

Byleth couldn’t find the power to reply, and so he waited for the voice’s next question.

“What will you take?”

Behind his eyelids, only one shape was defined enough for him to try to grasp. It was painfully obvious even more considering his current predicament, but at the same time he had no basis to go against it. A blade, sharp and trustworthy, but stained in blood. One that looked like any other blade he has handled before, unremarkable in its appearance but its potential and value very much relevant in his mind. It was shameful to admit, but Byleth was more used to the weight of a sword in his grasp than that of a human’s hand. Of course, Byleth didn’t grow up alone. Jeralt had always been there for him as well as all the other mercenaries from the band. There was never a moment where the professor found himself left alone or abandoned in any way- even more now that Sothis has materialized inside his mind.

Byleth has never been alone, yet at the same time Byleth led a lonely life.

The world happened and evolved outside of his control, his mind always failing to catch up to it. He had always felt like a spectator, watching life behind a screen- warm and breathing, yet not quite there. The fellow mercenaries partied and his father often took him to taverns, laughter and loud, obviously drunken singing reverberating throughout the stone and wooden walls. Movement everywhere, occasionally people patting him on the head or ruffling his hair. Byleth was there, physically.

He was in this world, physically.

But as he watched the blade materialize into his hand, his mind quietly wondered if perhaps he had been compensating his feelings of detachment with the familiar weight a weapon offered to him all this time.

If perhaps, this attachment he felt to it was just because he had never felt his own heart flutter or thunder, and that the only times he was able to physically experience an emotion was when he was handling a weapon, be it to defend himself or to attack another.

“What will you do?”

The voice from above questioned, and the professor raised his head to see a single mannequin before him.

A figure with no identity of its own, cowering with its hands up as if trying to shield itself from harm or asking for mercy. It was bathed in a bright green light, all while Byleth was drowned in red- the blade in his hand. It was obvious, what he had to do. What he was supposed to do, at least.

He needed to kill it. Bring down his blade upon that figure and end its theoretical life. Byleth remembered the faces of those he had killed before, but he never remembered them in the seconds before their death. Be it because of the darkness from a night attack, or because everything had happened too fast or because of an ambush from behind- Byleth didn’t know the faces of his victims before he took their lives.

Maybe you saw them, but chose to forget them.

No, I’d never choose to forget something like that.

Perhaps your mind made that choice for you, out of your control.

Why would it do that?

Because human brains would rather forget than to face suffering.

I’ve never felt that way.

That doesn’t make you any less human.

The conversation was short in his mind, but it felt as if it had taken centuries. On that mannequin, he could only see his victims as flashes of memories passed before his eyes. Decades of mechanical actions, of unfeeling cold murder because his mind failed to process what he should’ve been feeling and instead replaced it with nothingness. The still ocean of his brain wasn’t out of choice, he was simply born that way.

That doesn’t make you any less human.

But it doesn’t mean you can’t try to work around it.

Gloved fingers eventually let go of the sword as metallic clatter filled the void. His hands were now free, filled with an uncomfortable lack of anything much like his own heart- except now it had been out of a choice.

It’s about time you hold on to human warmth.

His feet took him forward, and that same hand that once held a sword now was placed on the mannequin’s shoulder. Placed awkwardly at first, slightly unsure, but with conviction. His form was positioned not as an overbearing defender, but of a caring guide. Instead of his victims, what he saw on that mannequin was now his own students. All of those youngsters he had been tasked with teaching, who often became startled from a battle or worried over a task and he’d always come to them to guide them back to a path they could follow with confidence.

Byleth was met with surprise when he opened his eyes- and instead of being punished for going against his role, he was met with arms wrapping around his middle. Looking down, a red mop of hair adorned with a shiny golden tiara.

“Maria.” It was the only word he had managed to utter in this sickening void, and instead of demanding effort it felt warm and gentle on his being. She was there, one of his students. He belonged with them now.

Though awkward due to lack of practice, the ex-mercenary wrapped his arms around the young girl and let his mind understand the weight of a human soul instead of a steel blade.

Byleth has been recruited!

#svverdane2023 #toasabbamvitatham2023 #the flow of time guided me here. drabbles #[ i stopped it at maria huggy because the rest didnt fit but STILL ]

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erabundus · 1 year

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anonymous &&. said... what does ren do when he realizes he’s falling in love with someone of attachment is something he reacts negatively to?

to put it simply? denies, denies, denies.

mind, that isn't to say ren goes INTO DENIAL. by default, he's never actually fallen in love with anyone — i've mentioned it before, but the kabukimono was too new to really register romantic love, and scaramouche was too wrapped up in his own pain and ambition to care. the balladeer did occasionally dabble in arrangements that were purely physical, but he was always careful to keep a very cold, very inflexible degree of emotional distance.

ren is at a point in his life where he's able to process feelings of romantic love for what they are, and his mind isn't being strangled by the throes of his obsessions. so he is most definitely capable of falling in love, and ( after a bit of careful reflection ) understanding that he is — despite never having experienced it for himself before. however, the denial aspect rears its ugly head in how he chooses to deal with it. because ren is someone who doesn't necessarily hate attachment, but rather, he fears it. the more you love something, the more it's going to hurt to lose — and he has lost every single person he's ever allowed himself to love. horribly. painfully. he is absolutely terrified of allowing himself to experience that agony again, to such an extent that he would rather subject himself to eternal SOLITUDE. he is so accustomed to living in misery that he clings to it as a source of comfort — because it's FAMILIAR and familiar is safe. even if acceptance and belonging are two of the things he wants the most. it doesn't help that the wounds are still fresh in his mind — fresher still, because he's had to relive them now knowing the truth.

so he tries very, very hard not to act on how he feels. he tries to ignore it. he takes a "if i bottle everything up, maybe it will die on its own when the oxygen runs out" type of approach. however, ren is also his own worst enemy in that regard — because again, he wants so very badly to be loved. he becomes incredibly contradictory; offering brief scraps of genuine kindness and affection, only to just as quickly turn around and go back to his usual aloof self. ( once again, proving that he is indeed a cat. ) it throws him into this endless spiral of shame and self loathing, because he knows he shouldn't be doing this. he shouldn't keep feeding into this pesky attachment. he shouldn't even be a part of their life at all — and surely, it would be much happier without him in it.

yet at the same time, he can't help it. no matter how hard he tries, he just gets drawn deeper and deeper — until he's either rejected ( something he will accept gracefully, because he truly thinks it's the correct move ) or his will to resist snaps entirely and he stumbles his way into a relationship. which in itself comes with its own set of problems, because now he has to deal with the knowledge that he failed. he loves someone. he's going to lose them. he's going to have to go through this, again. and he can spend a lifetime trying to mentally prepare himself, but he feels everything so viscerally it's not going to matter.

and don't think platonic relationships are also exempt from this — because he absolutely goes through a similar process of seeking closeness, self-loathing, aloofness, rinse and repeat. attachments scare him, but he cannot stop forming them despite his best efforts to deny, deny, deny.

#anonymous #𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. ◟ hc .◝#( when he does love you he will love you with everything he has & that ultimately only makes it all the more tragic )#( at his core he is still a very pure being. every color every feeling painted across his surface shows all the more vibrant for it. )#( and it's so hard to even begin to unpack all of this because what can you even do? )#( he doesn't want to hear kind words. they mean nothing. he only wants concrete solutions but there aren't any. )

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nerdnonymousreads · 2 years

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Live Reading Blog and Favorite Quotes from All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks

Start Date: August 6, 2022

Finish Date: September 20, 2022

◆ Preface

▪ To this day I cannot remember when that feeling of being loved left me. I just know that one day I was no longer precious. Those who had initially loved me well turned away. The absence of their recognition and regard pierced my heart and left me with a feeling of brokenheartedness so profound I was spellbound.

▪ We can never go back. I know that now. We can go forward. We can find the love our hearts long for, but not until we let go grief about the love we lost long ago

◆ Introduction: Grace: Touched by Love

▪ “The search for love continues even in the face of great odds,”

▪ “I am afraid that we may be raising a generation of young people who will grow up afraid to love, afraid to give themselves completely to another person, because they will have seen how much it hurts to take the risk of loving and have it not work out. I am afraid that they will grow up looking for intimacy without risk, for pleasure without significant emotional investment. They will be so fearful of the pain of disappointment that they will forgo the possibilities of love and joy.”

▪ Ultimately, cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart.

▪ We want to know love. We are simply afraid the desire to know too much about love will lead us closer and closer to the abyss of lovelessness.

▪ It is far easier to talk about loss than it is to talk about love. It is easier to articulate the pain of love’s absence than to describe its presence and meaning in our lives.

▪ Only love can heal the wounds of the past. However, the intensity of our woundedness often leads to a closing of the heart, making it impossible for us to give or receive the love that is given to us.

▪ To open our hearts more fully to love’s power and grace we must dare to acknowledge how little we know of love in both theory and practice. We must face the confusion and disappointment that much of what we were taught about the nature of love makes no sense when applied to daily life.

◆ One: Clarity: Give Love Words

▪ As a society we are embarrassed by love. We treat it as if it were an obscenity. We reluctantly admit to it. Even saying the word makes us stumble and blush . . . Love is the most important thing in our lives, a passion for which we would fight or die, and yet we’re reluctant to linger over its names. Without a supple vocabulary, we can’t even talk or think about it directly.

▪ he defines love as “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.” Explaining further, he continues: “Love is as love does. Love is an act of will—namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love.”

▪ Affection is only one ingredient of love. To truly love we must learn to mix various ingredients—care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, and trust, as well as honest and open communication.

▪ When we understand love as the will to nurture our own and another’s spiritual growth, it becomes clear that we cannot claim to love if we are hurtful and abusive. Love and abuse cannot coexist. Abuse and neglect are, by definition, the opposites of nurturance and care.

▪ Too many of us need to cling to a notion of love that either makes abuse acceptable or at least makes it seem that whatever happened was not that bad.

▪ With therapeutic help I was able to see the term “dysfunctional” as a useful description and not as an absolute negative judgment. My family of origin provided, throughout my childhood, a dysfunctional setting and it remains one. This does not mean that it is not also a setting in which affection, delight, and care are present.

▪ I painfully admitted that I did not feel loved in our household but that I did feel cared for.

▪ Remember, care is a dimension of love, but simply giving care does not mean we are loving.

▪ if one’s goal is self-recovery, to be well in one’s soul, honestly and realistically confronting lovelessness is part of the healing process.

▪ A lack of sustained love does not mean the absence of care, affection, or pleasure. In fact, my long-term romantic relationships, like the bonds in my family, have been so full of care that it would be quite easy to overlook the ongoing emotional dysfunction.

▪ It took me a long time to recognize that while I wanted to know love, I was afraid to be truly intimate. Many of us choose relationships of affection and care that will never become loving because they feel safer. The demands are not as intense as loving requires. The risk is not as great.

▪ To begin by always thinking of love as an action rather than a feeling is one way in which anyone using the word in this manner automatically assumes accountability and responsibility.

▪ When we are loving we openly and honestly express care, affection, responsibility, respect, commitment, and trust.

◆ Two: Justice: Childhood Love Lessons

▪ There is nothing that creates more confusion about love in the minds and hearts of children than unkind and/or cruel punishment meted out by the grown-ups they have been taught they should love and respect.

▪ Abuse and neglect negate love. Care and affirmation, the opposite of abuse and humiliation, are the foundation of love. No one can rightfully claim to be loving when behaving abusively.

▪ Shelby talks about the impact of physical abuse on his boyhood psyche: “As the intensity of the pain of his hits increased, I felt the hurt in my heart. I realized what hurt me the most were my feelings of love for this man who was hitting me. I covered my love with a dark cloth of hate.”

▪ “She had neglected me, but am I to neglect myself as well by denying that I wished I’d been with her when she died, that I still love her?”

▪ it is absolutely crucial that parenting adults learn how to offer loving discipline. Setting boundaries and teaching children how to set boundaries for themselves prior to misbehavior is an essential part of loving parenting.

▪ The reality was, however, that parents who come from unloving homes have never learned how to love and cannot create loving home environments or see them as realistic when watching them on television. The reality they are most familiar with and trust is the one they knew intimately.

▪ Until we begin to see loving parenting in all walks of life in our culture, many people will continue to believe we can only teach discipline through punishment, and that harsh punishment is an acceptable way to relate to children.

▪ Because children can innately offer affection or respond to affectionate care by returning it, it is often assumed that they know how to love and therefore do not need to learn the art of loving. While the will to love is present in very young children, they still need guidance in the ways of love. Grown-ups provide that guidance.

◆ Three: Honesty: Be True to Love

▪ When we reveal ourselves to our partner and find that this brings healing rather than harm, we make an important discovery—that intimate relationship can provide a sanctuary from the world of facades, a sacred space where we can be ourselves, as we are. . . . This kind of unmasking—speaking our truth, sharing our inner struggles, and revealing our raw edges—is sacred activity, which allows two souls to meet and touch more deeply.

▪ calls attention to the way in which women are encouraged by sexist socialization to pretend and manipulate, to lie as a way to please. Lerner outlines the various ways in which constant pretense and lying alienate women from their true feelings, how it leads to depression and loss of self-awareness.

▪ From the moment little boys are taught they should not cry or express hurt, feelings of loneliness, or pain, that they must be tough, they are learning how to mask true feelings. In worst-case scenarios they are learning how to not feel anything ever. These lessons are usually taught to males by other males and sexist mothers. Even boys raised in the most progressive, loving households, where parents encourage them to express emotions, learn a different understanding about masculinity and feelings on the playground, in the classroom, playing sports, or watching television. They may end up choosing patriarchal masculinity to be accepted by other boys and affirmed by male authority figures.

▪ Although so many boys are taught to behave as though love does not matter, in their hearts they yearn for it. That yearning does not go away simply because they become men. Lying, as one form of acting out, is a way they articulate ongoing rage at the failure of love’s promise. To embrace patriarchy, they must actively surrender the longing to love.

▪ Trust is the foundation of intimacy. When lies erode trust, genuine connection cannot take place.

▪ “Loving justice between a man and a woman does not stand a chance when other men’s manhood matters more. When a man has decided to love manhood more than justice, there are predictable consequences in all his relationships with women. . . . Learning to live as a man of conscience means deciding that your loyalty to the people whom you love is always more important than whatever lingering loyalty you may sometimes feel to other men’s judgment on your manhood.”

▪ When men and women are loyal to ourselves and others, when we love justice, we understand fully the myriad ways in which lying diminishes and erodes the possibility of meaningful, caring connection, that it stands in the way of love.

▪ It is impossible to nurture one’s own or another’s spiritual growth when the core of one’s being and identity is shrouded in secrecy and lies. Trusting that another person always intends your good, having a core foundation of loving practice, cannot exist within a context of deception.

▪ To know love we have to tell the truth to ourselves and to others. Creating a false self to mask fears and insecurities has become so common that many of us forget who we are and what we feel underneath the pretense. Breaking through this denial is always the first step in uncovering our longing to be honest and clear. Lies and secrets burden us and cause stress. When an individual has always lied, he has no awareness that truth telling can take away this heavy burden. To know this he must let the lies go.

▪ When men and women punish each other for truth telling we reinforce the notion that lies are better. To be loving we willingly hear each other’s truth and, most important, we affirm the value of truth telling. Lies may make people feel better, but they do not help them to know love.

◆ Four: Commitment: Let Love Be Love in Me

▪ Commitment is inherent in any genuinely loving relationship. Anyone who is truly concerned for the spiritual growth of another knows, consciously or instinctively, that he or she can significantly foster that growth only through a relationship of constancy.

▪ COMMITMENT TO TRUTH telling lays the groundwork for the openness and honesty that is the heartbeat of love. When we can see ourselves as we truly are and accept ourselves, we build the necessary foundation for self-love.

▪ To live consciously we have to engage in critical reflection about the world we live in and know most intimately.

Usually it is through reflection that individuals who have not accepted themselves make the choice to stop listening to negative voices, within and outside the self, that constantly reject and devalue them. Affirmations work for anyone striving for self-acceptance.

▪ “I’m breaking with old patterns and moving forward with my life.”

▪ The more we accept ourselves, the better prepared we are to take responsibility in all areas of our lives.

▪ Branden defines self-responsibility as the willingness “to take responsibility for my actions and the attainment of my goals . . . for my life and well-being.”

▪ Taking responsibility means that in the face of barriers we still have the capacity to invent our lives, to shape our destinies in ways that maximize our well-being. Every day we practice this shape shifting to cope with realities we cannot easily change.

▪ Since many of us were shamed in childhood either in our families of origin or in school settings, a learned pattern of going along with the program and not making a fuss is the course of action we most frequently choose as a way to avoid conflict.

▪ Sexist socialization teaches females that self-assertiveness is a threat to femininity.

▪ This division between a false self invented to please others and a more authentic self need not exist when we cultivate positive self-esteem.

▪ According to Branden it entails taking responsibility for consciously creating goals, identifying the actions necessary to achieve them, making sure our behavior is in alignment with our goals, and paying attention to the outcome of our actions so that we see whether they are leading us where we want to go.

▪ Doing a job well, even if we do not enjoy what we are doing, means that we leave it with a feeling of well-being, our self-esteem intact.

▪ Whenever possible, it is best to seek work we love and to avoid work we hate.

▪ Most of us did not learn when we were young that our capacity to be self-loving would be shaped by the work we do and whether that work enhances our well-being.

▪ When we work with love we renew the spirit; that renewal is an act of self-love, it nurtures our growth. It’s not what you do but how you do it.

▪ Self-love is the foundation of our loving practice. Without it our other efforts to love fail. Giving ourselves love we provide our inner being with the opportunity to have the unconditional love we may have always longed to receive from someone else.

▪ Whenever we interact with others, the love we give and receive is always necessarily conditional. Although it is not impossible, it is very difficult and rare for us to be able to extend unconditional love to others, largely because we cannot exercise control over the behavior of someone else and we cannot predict or utterly control our responses to their actions. We can, however, exercise control over our own actions. We can give ourselves the unconditional love that is the grounding for sustained acceptance and affirmation.

▪ One of the best guides to how to be self-loving is to give ourselves the love we are often dreaming about receiving from others.

◆ Six: Values: Living by a Love Ethnic

▪ At the end of The Art of Loving, Erich Fromm affirms that “important and radical changes are necessary, if love is to become a social and not a highly individualistic, marginal phenomenon.”

▪ We do this by choosing to work with individuals we admire and respect; by committing to give our all to relationships; by embracing a global vision wherein we see our lives and our fate as intimately connected to those of everyone else on the planet.

▪ Living by a love ethic we learn to value loyalty and a commitment to sustained bonds over material advancement. While careers and making money remain important agendas, they never take precedence over valuing and nurturing human life and well-being.

▪ emphatically stating that I definitely believe we can all change our minds and our actions. I stressed that this faith was not rooted in a utopian longing but, rather, that I believed this because of our nation’s history of the many individuals who have offered their lives in the service of justice and freedom.

▪ Here is another example. If you go door to door in our nation and talk to citizens about domestic violence, almost everyone will insist that they do not support male violence against women, that they believe it to be morally and ethically wrong. However, if you then explain that we can only end male violence against women by challenging patriarchy, and that means no longer accepting the notion that men should have more rights and privileges than women because of biological difference or that men should have the power to rule over women, that is when the agreement stops. There is a gap between the values they claim to hold and their willingness to do the work of connecting thought and action, theory and practice to realize these values and thus create a more just society.

▪ Refusal to stand up for what you believe in weakens individual morality and ethics as well as those of the culture.

▪ No wonder then that we are a nation of people, the majority of whom, across race, class, and gender, claim to be religious, claim to believe in the divine power of love, and yet collectively remain unable to embrace a love ethic and allow it to guide behavior, especially if doing so would mean supporting radical change.

▪ Our willingness to embrace this “unknown” shows that we are all capable of confronting fears of radical change, that we can cope.

▪ Society’s collective fear of love must be faced if we are to lay claim to a love ethic that can inspire us and give us the courage to make necessary changes.

▪ Faith enables us to move past fear. We can collectively regain our faith in the transformative power of love by cultivating courage, the strength to stand up for what we believe in, to be accountable both in word and deed.

▪ As we love, fear necessarily leaves. Contrary to the notion that one must work to attain perfection, this outcome does not have to be struggled for—it just happens. It is the gift perfect love offers. To receive the gift, we must first understand that “there is no fear in love.” But we do fear and fear keeps us from trusting in love.

▪ In our society we make much of love and say little about fear. Yet we are all terribly afraid most of the time.

▪ As a culture we are obsessed with the notion of safety. Yet we do not question why we live in states of extreme anxiety and dread.

▪ Fear is the primary force upholding structures of domination. It promotes the desire for separation, the desire not to be known. When we are taught that safety lies always with sameness, then difference, of any kind, will appear as a threat. (HOLY SHIT, AMEN)

▪ When we choose to love we choose to move against fear—against alienation and separation. The choice to love is a choice to connect—to find ourselves in the other.

▪ Embracing a love ethic means that we utilize all the dimensions of love—“care, commitment, trust, responsibility, respect, and knowledge”—in our everyday lives.

▪ We can successfully do this only by cultivating awareness. Being aware enables us to critically examine our actions to see what is needed so that we can give care, be responsible, show respect, and indicate a willingness to learn.

▪ Understanding knowledge as an essential element of love is vital because we are daily bombarded with messages that tell us love is about mystery, about that which cannot be known.

▪ When love is present the desire to dominate and exercise power cannot rule the day. All the great social movements for freedom and justice in our society have promoted a love ethic.

▪ To live our lives based on the principles of a love ethic (showing care, respect, knowledge, integrity, and the will to cooperate), we have to be courageous. Learning how to face our fears is one way we embrace love. Our fear may not go away, but it will not stand in the way.

▪ Those of us who have already chosen to embrace a love ethic, allowing it to govern and inform how we think and act, know that when we let our light shine, we draw to us and are drawn to other bearers of light. We are not alone.

◆ Seven: Greed: Simply Love

▪ Liberation is “the sure heart’s release”—an understanding of the truth so powerful that there is no turning back from it.

▪ In a world without love the passion to connect can be replaced by the passion to possess.

▪ This same politics of greed is at play when folks seek love. They often want fulfillment immediately. Genuine love is rarely an emotional space where needs are instantly gratified. To know genuine love we have to invest time and commitment.

▪ “dreaming that love will save us, solve all our problems or provide a steady state of bliss or security only keeps us stuck in wishful fantasy, undermining the real power of the love—which is to transform us.”

▪ When the practice of love invites us to enter a place of potential bliss that is at the same time a place of critical awakening and pain, many of us turn our backs on love.

▪ The truth is, we are a nation that normalizes dysfunction. The more attention focused on dysfunctional bonds, the more the message that families are all a bit messed up becomes commonplace and the greater the notion becomes that this is just how families are.

▪ Cynicism about love leads young adults to believe there is no love to be found and that relationships are needed only to the extent that they satisfy desires. How many times do we hear someone say “Well, if that person is not satisfying your needs you should get rid of them”?

▪ Relationships are treated like Dixie cups. They are the same. They are disposable. If it does not work, drop it, throw it away, get another.

▪ Healthy narcissim (the self-acceptance, self-worth, that is the cornerstone of self-love) is replaced by a pathological narcissism (wherein only the self matters) that justifies any action that enables the satisfying of desires.

▪ When the politics of greed become a cultural norm, all acts of charity are wrongly seen as suspect and are represented as a gesture of the weak. As a consequence, our nation’s citizens become less charitable every day, arrogantly defending self-serving policies, which protect the interests of the rich, by claming that the poor and needy have not worked hard enough.

▪ I have been astonished by hearing individuals who inherited wealth in childhood warn against sharing resources because people needing help should work for money in order to appreciate its value.

▪ One of the ironies of the culture of greed is that the people who profit the most from earnings they have not worked to attain are the most eager to insist that the poor and working classes can only value material resources attained through hard work.

▪ “Think of the misery that comes into our lives by our restless gnawing greed. We plunge ourselves into enormous debt and then take two and three jobs to stay afloat. We uproot our families with unnecessary moves just so we can have a more prestigious house. We grasp and grab and never have enough. And most destructive of all, our flashy cars and sport spectaculars and backyard pools have a way of crowding out much interest in civil rights or inner city poverty or the starved masses of India. Greed has a way of severing the cords of compassion.”

▪ The worship of money leads to a hardening of the heart. And it can lead any of us to condone, either actively or passively, the exploitation and dehumanization of ourselves and others.

▪ It did not take long for this generation to find out that they loved material comfort more than justice.

▪ Many of our nation’s citizens are afraid to embrace an ethics of compassion because it threatens their security.

▪ Brainwashed to believe that they can only be secure if they have more than the next person, they accumulate and still feel insecure because there is always someone who has accumulated more.

▪ To maintain and satisfy greed, one must support domination. And the world of domination is always a world without love.

▪ Living simply makes loving simple. The choice to live simply necessarily enhances our capacity to love. It is the way we learn to practice compassion, daily affirming our connection to a world community.

◆ Eight: Community: Loving Communion

▪ Communities sustain life—not nuclear families, or the “couple,” and certainly not the rugged individualist. There is no better place to learn the art of loving than in community.

▪ I know I survived and thrived despite the pain of childhood precisely because there were loving individuals among our extended family who nurtured me and gave me a sense of hope and possibility. They showed that our family’s interactions did not constitute a norm, that there were other ways to think and behave, different from the accepted patterns in our household.

▪ In friendship we are able to hear honest, critical feedback. We trust that a true friend desires our good.

▪ Often we take friendships for granted even when they are the interactions where we experience mutual pleasure. We place them in a secondary position, especially in relation to romantic bonds. This devaluation of our friendships creates an emptiness we may not see when we are devoting all our attention to finding someone to love romantically or giving all our attention to a chosen loved one.

▪ The strength of our friendship was revealed by our willingness to confront openly the shift in our ties and to make necessary changes. We do not see each other as much as we once did, and we no longer call each other daily, but the positive ties that bind us remain intact.

▪ When we see love as the will to nurture one’s own or another’s spiritual growth, revealed through acts of care, respect, knowing, and assuming responsibility, the foundation of all love in our life is the same. There is no special love exclusively reserved for romantic partners. Genuine love is the foundation of our engagement with ourselves, with family, with friends, with partners, with everyone we choose to love. While we will necessarily behave differently depending on the nature of a relationship, or have varying degrees of commitment, the values that inform our behavior, when rooted in a love ethic, are always the same for any interaction.

▪ Had I been evaluating my relationship from a standpoint that emphasized growth rather than duty and obligation, I would have understood that abuse irreparably undermines bonds.

▪ All too often women believe it is a sign of commitment, an expression of love, to endure unkindness or cruelty, to forgive and forget. In actuality, when we love rightly we know that the healthy, loving response to cruelty and abuse is putting ourselves out of harm’s way.

▪ I would have been able to leave this relationship sooner or recover myself within it had I brought to this bond the level of respect, care, knowledge, and responsibility I brought to friendships.

▪ Women who would no more tolerate a friendship in which they were emotionally and physically abused stay in romantic relationships where these violations occur regularly. Had they brought to these bonds the same standards they bring to friendship they would not accept victimization.

▪ To love well is the task in all meaningful relationships, not just romantic bonds.

▪ “We cannot endure without love and there is no other way to the return of healing, comforting, harmonizing love than through total and complete forgiveness: If we want freedom and peace and the experience of love and being loved, we must let go and forgive.”

▪ Forgiveness is an act of generosity. It requires that we place releasing someone else from the prison of their guilt or anguish over our feelings of outrage or anger.

▪ By forgiving we clear a path on the way to love. It is a gesture of respect. True forgiveness requires that we understand the negative actions of another.

▪ Realistically, being part of a loving community does not mean we will not face conflicts, betrayals, negative outcomes from positive actions, or bad things happening to good people. Love allows us to confront these negative realities in a manner that is life-affirming and life-enhancing.

▪ “Forgiveness is a way of life that gradually transforms us from being helpless victims of our circumstances to being powerful and loving ‘co-creators’ of our reality. . . . It is the fading away of the perceptions that cloud our ability to love.”

▪ Practicing compassion enabled me to understand why she might have acted as she did and to forgive her. Forgiving means that I am able to see her as a member of my community still, one who has a place in my heart should she wish to claim it.

▪ We all long for loving community. It enhances life’s joy. But many of us seek community solely to escape the fear of being alone. Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.

▪ “no friend or lover, no husband or wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and wholeness.”

▪ “The difficult road is the road of conversion, the conversion from loneliness into solitude. Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and turn it into fruitful solitude. . . . Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community.”

▪ The willingness to sacrifice is a necessary dimension of loving practice and living in community. None of us can have things our way all the time. Giving up something is one way we sustain a commitment to the collective well-being. Our willingness to make sacrifices reflects our awareness of interdependency.

▪ At one point my sister, who is a lesbian, felt that she wanted to break away from the family because family members were often homophobic. Affirming and sharing her rage and disappointment, I also encouraged her to find ways to stay connected. Over time she has seen major positive changes; she has seen fear give way to understanding, which would not have happened had she accepted estrangement as the only response to the pain of rejection.

◆ Nine: Mutuality: The Heart of Love

▪ The Peter Pan Syndrome: Men Who Have Never Grown Up. Published in the early eighties, the jacket noted that this book was about a serious social-psychological phenomenon besetting American males—their refusal to become men: “Though they have reached adult age, they are unable to face adult feelings with responsibilities. Out of touch with their true emotions, afraid to depend on even those closest to them, self-centered and narcissistic, they hide behind masks of normalcy while feeling empty and lonely inside.” This new generation of American men had experienced the feminist cultural revolution. Many of them had been raised in homes where fathers were not present. They were more than happy when feminist thinkers told them that they did not need to be macho men. But the only alternative to not turning into a conventional macho man was to not become a man at all, to remain a boy.

▪ Girls and boys, women and men who have been taught to think this way almost always believe love is not important, or if it is, it is never as important as being powerful, dominant, in control, on top—being right.

▪ Sadly, love will not prevail in any situation where one party, either female or male, wants to maintain control. My relationships were bittersweet. All the ingredients for love were present but my partners were not committed to making love the order of the day. When someone has not known love it is difficult for him to trust that mutual satisfaction and growth can be the primary foundation in a coupling relationship.

▪ To know love we must surrender our attachment to sexist thinking in whatever form it takes in our lives. That attachment will always return us to gender conflict, a way of thinking about sex roles that diminishes females and males. To practice the art of loving we have first to choose love—admit to ourselves that we want to know love and be loving even if we do not know what that means. The deeply cynical, who have lost all belief in love’s power, have to step blindly out on faith.

▪ In The Path to Love, Deepak Chopra urges us to remember that everything love is meant to do is possible: “The aching need created by lack of love can only be filled by learning anew to love and be loved. We all must discover for ourselves that love is a force as real as gravity, and that being upheld in love every day, every hour, every minute is not a fantasy—it is intended as our natural state.”

▪ More often than not females are taught in childhood, either by parental caregivers or the mass media, how to give the basic care that is part of the practice of love. We are shown how to be empathic, how to nurture, and, most important, how to listen. Usually we are not socialized in these practices so that we can be loving or share knowledge of love with men, but rather so that we can be maternal in relation to children.

▪ Choosing to be honest is the first step in the process of love. There is no practitioner of love who deceives. Once the choice has been made to be honest, then the next step on love’s path is communication.

▪ Getting in touch with the lovelessness within and letting that lovelessness speak its pain is one way to begin again on love’s journey. In relationships, whether heterosexual or homosexual, the partner who is hurting often finds that their mate is unwilling to “hear” the pain. Women often tell me that they feel emotionally beaten down when their partners refuse to listen or talk.

▪ Those of us who were wounded in childhood often were shamed and humiliated when we expressed hurt. It is emotionally devastating when the partners we have chosen will not listen. Usually, partners who are unable to respond compassionately when hearing us speak our pain, whether they understand it or not, are unable to listen because that expressed hurt triggers their own feelings of powerlessness and helplessness.

▪ When a couple can identify this dynamic, they can work on the issue of caring, listening to each other’s pain by engaging in short conversations at appropriate times (i.e., it’s useless to try and speak your pain to someone who is bone weary, irritable, preoccupied, etc.). Setting a time when both individuals come together to engage in compassionate listening enhances communication and connection. When we are committed to doing the work of love we listen even when it hurts.

▪ M. Scott Peck’s popular treatise The Road Less Traveled highlighted and affirmed the importance of commitment. Discipline and devotion are necessary to the practice of love, all the more so when relationships are just beginning.

▪ When conflict arises within us or between us and other individuals when we walk on love’s path, it is disheartening, especially when we cannot easily right our difficulties. In the case of romantic relationships, many people fear getting trapped in a bond that is not working, so they flee at the onset of conflict. Or they self-indulgently create unnecessary conflict as a way to avoid commitment. They flee from love before they feel its grace. Pain may be the threshold they must cross to partake of love’s bliss. Running from the pain, they never know the fullness of love’s pleasure.

▪ sure.

False notions of love teach us that it is the place where we will feel no pain, where we will be in a state of constant bliss. We have to expose the falseness of these beliefs to see and accept the reality that suffering and pain do not end when we begin to love. In some cases when we are making the slow journey back from lovelessness to love, our suffering may become more intense.

▪ Acceptance of pain is part of loving practice. It enables us to distinguish constructive suffering from self-indulgent hurt. When love’s promise has never been fulfilled in our lives it is perhaps the most difficult practice of love to trust that the passage through the painful abyss leads to paradise.

▪ We might be living in a world that would be even more alienated and violent if caring women did not do the work of teaching men who have lost touch with themselves how to live again. This labor of love is futile only when the men in question refuse to awaken, refuse growth. At this point it is a gesture of self-love for women to break their commitment and move on.

▪ we often fear placing our emotional trust in caring individuals who may have been faithful friends all our lives. This is simply misguided thinking. And it must be overcome if we are to be transformed by love.

▪ “If I were asked the single most frequent cause of the destruction of relationships . . . I would say it is selfishness. We live in an age of narcissism and many people have never learned or have forgotten how to listen to the needs of others. The truth is, if you want to make just one change in yourself that will improve your relationship—literally, overnight—it would be to put your partner’s interest on an equal footing with your own.”

▪ A useful gift all love’s practitioners can give is the offering of forgiveness. It not only allows us to move away from blame, from seeing others as the cause of our sustained lovelessness, but it enables us to experience agency, to know we can be responsible for giving and finding love. We need not blame others for feelings of lack, for we know how to attend to them. We know how to give ourselves love and to recognize the love that is all around us. Much of the anger and rage we feel about emotional lack is released when we forgive ourselves and others. Forgiveness opens us up and prepares us to receive love. It prepares the way for us to give wholeheartedly.

▪ Giving is the way we also learn how to receive. The mutual practice of giving and receiving is an everyday ritual when we know true love. A generous heart is always open, always ready to receive our going and coming. In the midst of such love we need never fear abandonment. This is the most precious gift true love offers—the experience of knowing we always belong.

▪ Love is an action, a participatory emotion. Whether we are engaged in a process of self-love or of loving others we must move beyond the realm of feeling to actualize love. This is why it is useful to see love as a practice. When we act, we need not feel inadequate or powerless; we can trust that there are concrete steps to take on love’s path. We learn to communicate, to be still and listen to the needs of our hearts, and we learn to listen to others. We learn compassion by being willing to hear the pain, as well as the joy, of those we love. The path to love is not arduous or hidden, but we must choose to take the first step. If we do not know the way, there is always a loving spirit with an enlightened, open mind able to show us how to take the path that leads to the heart of love, the path that lets us return to love.

◆ Ten: Romance: Sweet Love

▪ TO RETURN TO love, to get the love we always wanted but never had, to have the love we want but are not prepared to give, we seek romantic relationships. We believe these relationships, more than any other, will rescue and redeem us. True love does have the power to redeem but only if we are ready for redemption. Love saves us only if we want to be saved.

▪ We believe we will meet the girl of our dreams. We believe “someday our prince will come.” They show up just as we imagined they would. We wanted the lover to appear but most of us were not really clear about what we wanted to do with them—what the love was that we wanted to make and how we would make it. We were not ready to open our hearts fully.

▪ “The expression to ‘fall in love’ reflects a peculiar attitude toward love and life itself—a mixture of fear, awe, fascination, and confusion. It implies suspicion, doubt, hesitation in the presence of something unavoidable, yet not fully reliable.” If you do not know what you feel, then it is difficult to choose love; it is better to fall. Then you do not have to be responsible for your actions.

▪ “To love somebody is not just a strong feeling—it is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go.”

▪ he describes love as the will to nurture one’s own or another’s spiritual growth, adding: “The desire to love is not itself love. Love is as love does. Love is an act of will—namely, both an intention and action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love.”

▪ Despite these brilliant insights and the wise counsel they offer, most people remain reluctant to embrace the idea that it is more genuine, more real, to think of choosing to love rather than falling in love.

▪ To be capable of critically evaluating a partner we would need to be able to stand back and look critically at ourselves, at our needs, desires, and longings.

▪ We fear that evaluating our needs and then carefully choosing partners will reveal that there is no one for us to love. Most of us prefer to have a partner who is lacking than no partner at all. What becomes apparent is that we may be more interested in finding a partner than in knowing love.

▪ Approaching romantic love from a foundation of care, knowledge, and respect actually intensifies romance. By taking the time to communicate with a potential mate we are no longer trapped by the fear and anxiety underlying romantic interactions that take place without discussion or the sharing of intent and desire.

▪ Because of sexist socialization, women tend to put sexual satisfaction in its appropriate perspective. We acknowledge its value without allowing it to become the absolute measure of intimate connection. Enlightened women want fulfilling erotic encounters as much as men, but we ultimately prefer erotic satisfaction within a context where there is loving, intimate connection.

▪ The very people (many of them men) who had heretofore claimed that “too much talk” made things less romantic find that talk does not threaten pleasure at all. It merely changes its nature. Where once knowing nothing was the basis for excitement and erotic intensity, knowing more is now the basis.

▪ We are all capable of changing our attitudes about “falling in love.” We can acknowledge the “click” we feel when we meet someone new as just that—a mysterious sense of connection that may or may not have anything to do with love. However it could or could not be the primal connection while simultaneously acknowledging that it will lead us to love. How different things might be if, rather than saying “I think I’m in love,” we were saying “I’ve connected with someone in a way that makes me think I’m on the way to knowing love.” Or if instead of saying “I am in love” we said “I am loving” or “I will love.” Our patterns around romantic love are unlikely to change if we do not change our language.

▪ Starting with clear definitions of love, of feeling, intention, and will, I no longer enter relationships with the lack of awareness that leads me to make all bonds the site for repeating old patterns.

▪ We fail at romantic love when we have not learned the art of loving. It’s as simple as that.

▪ We can only move from perfect passion to perfect love when the illusions pass and we are able to use the energy and intensity generated by intense, overwhelming, erotic bonding to heighten self-discovery. Perfect passions usually end when we awaken from our enchantment and find only that we have been carried away from ourselves. It becomes perfect love when our passion gives us the courage to face reality, to embrace our true selves.

▪ Not only do I believe wholeheartedly that true love exists, I embrace the idea that its occurence is a mystery—that it happens without any effort of human will. And if that’s the case, then it will happen whether we look for it or not. But we do not lose love by looking for it. Indeed, those among us who have been hurt, disappointed, disillusioned must open our hearts if we want love to enter. That act of opening is a way of seeking love.

▪ I LEARNED THAT we may meet a true love and that our lives may be transformed by such an encounter even when it does not lead to sexual pleasure, committed bonding, or even sustained contact.

▪ are unable to cope with the reality of what it means either to have an intense life-altering connection that will not lead to an ongoing relationship or to be in a relationship.

▪ In actuality, true love thrives on the difficulties. The foundation of such love is the assumption that we want to grow and expand, to become more fully ourselves. There is no change that does not bring with it a feeling of challenge and loss. When we experience true love it may feel as though our lives are in danger; we may feel threatened.

▪ John Welwood makes a useful distinction between this type of attraction, familiar to us all, which he calls a “heart connection,” and another type he calls a “soul connection.” Here is how he defines it: “A soul connection is a resonance between two people who respond to the essential beauty of each other’s individual natures, behind their facades, and who connect on a deeper level. This kind of mutual recognition provides the catalyst for a potent alchemy. It is a sacred alliance whose purpose is to help both partners discover and realize their deepest potentials. While a heart connection lets us appreciate those we love just as they are, a soul connection opens up a further dimension—seeing and loving them for who they could be, and for who we could become under their influence.”

▪ “Like so much else, people have also misunderstood the place of love in life, they have made it into play and pleasure because they thought that play and pleasure was more blissful than work; but there is nothing happier than work, and love, just because it is the extreme happiness, can be nothing else but work . . .”

▪ Yet when we commit to true love, we are committed to being changed, to being acted upon by the beloved in a way that enables us to be more fully self-actualized. This commitment to change is chosen. It happens by mutual agreement. Again and again in conversations the most common vision of true love I have heard shared was one that declared it to be “unconditional.” True love is unconditional, but to truly flourish it requires an ongoing commitment to constructive struggle and change.

▪ The heartbeat of true love is the willingness to reflect on one’s actions, and to process and communicate this reflection with the loved one.

▪ As Welwood puts it: “Two beings who have a soul connection want to engage in a full, free-ranging dialogue and commune with each other as deeply as possible.” Honesty and openness is always the foundation of insightful dialogue.

▪ And how can any of us communicate with men who have been told all their lives that they should not express what they feel. Men who want to love and do not know how must first come to voice, must learn to let their hearts speak—and then to speak truth. Choosing to be fully honest, to reveal ourselves, is risky. The experience of true love gives us the courage to risk.

▪ Since true love sheds light on those aspects of ourselves we may wish to deny or hide, enabling us to see ourselves clearly and without shame, it is not surprising that so many individuals who say they want to know love turn away when such love beckons.

▪ NO MATTER HOW often we turn our minds and hearts away—or how stubbornly we refuse to believe in its magic—true love exists. Everyone wants it, even those who claim to have given up hope. But not everyone is ready. True love appears only when our hearts are ready.

▪ All the romantic lore of our culture has told us when we find true love with a partner it will continue. Yet this partnership lasts only if both parties remain committed to being loving. Not everyone can bear the weight of true love. Wounded hearts turn away from love because they do not want to do the work of healing necessary to sustain and nurture love.

▪ To know and keep true love we have to be willing to surrender the will to power.

▪ When one knows a true love, the transformative force of that love lasts even when we no longer have the company of the person with whom we experienced profound mutual care and growth. Thomas Merton writes: “We discover our true selves in love.”

▪ Fear of facing true love may actually lead some individuals to remain in situations of lack and unfulfillment. There they are not alone, they are not at risk.

▪ To love fully and deeply puts us at risk. When we love we are changed utterly. Merton asserts: “Love affects more than our thinking and our behavior toward those we love. It transforms our entire life. Genuine love is a personal revolution. Love takes your ideas, your desires, and your actions and welds them together in one experience and one living reality which is a new you.”

▪ To return to love he had to be willing to sacrifice and surrender, to let go of the fantasy of being someone with no sustained emotional needs to acknowledge his need to love and be loved. We sacrifice our old selves in order to be changed by love and we surrender to the power of the new self.

◆ Eleven: Loss: Loving into Life and Death

▪ Love knows no shame. To be loving is to be open to grief, to be touched by sorrow, even sorrow that is unending. The way we grieve is informed by whether we know love. Since loving lets us let go of so much fear, it also guides our grief. When we lose someone we love, we can grieve without shame. Given that commitment is an important aspect of love, we who love know we must sustain ties in life and death.

▪ To live fully we would need to let go of our fear of dying. That fear can only be addressed by the love of living.

▪ “Death is not a stranger to me. He is an old, old acquaintance.” It takes courage to befriend death. We find that courage in life through loving.

▪ Our collective fear of death is a dis-ease of the heart. Love is the only cure. Many people approach death with despair because they realize they have not lived their lives as they wanted to. They never found their “true selves” or they never found the love their hearts longed to know. Sometimes, facing death they offer themselves the love they did not offer for most of their lives. They give themselves acceptance, the unconditional love that is the core of self-love.

▪ Often, when we would put off for tomorrow the things that could be done today, she would remind us that “life is not promised.” This was her way of urging us to live life to the fullest—to live so that we would be without regret.

▪ We are taught to feel shame about grief that lingers. Like a stain on our clothes, it marks us as flawed, imperfect. To cling to grief, to desire its expression, is to be out of sync with modern life, where the hip do not get bogged down in mourning.

▪ In its deepest sense, grief is a burning of the heart, an intense heat that gives us solace and release. When we deny the full expression of our grief, it lays like a weight on our hearts, causing emotional pain and physical ailments. Grief is most often unrelenting when individuals are not reconciled to the reality of loss.

▪ Love invites us to grieve for the dead as ritual of mourning and as celebration. As we speak our hearts in mourning we share our intimate knowledge of the dead, of who they were and how they lived. We honor their presence by naming the legacies they leave us. We need not contain grief when we use it as a means to intensify our love for the dead and dying, for those who remain alive.

▪ Understanding that death is always with us can serve as the faithful reminder that the time to do what we feel called to do is always now and not in some distant and unimagined future.

▪ Accepting death with love means we embrace the reality of the unexpected, of experiences over which we have no control. Love empowers us to surrender. We do not need to have endless anxiety and worry about whether we will fulfill our goals or plans. Death is always there to remind us that our plans are transitory. By learning to love, we learn to accept change. Without change, we cannot grow. Our will to grow in spirit and truth is how we stand before life and death, ready to choose life.

◆ Twelve: Healing: Redemptive Love

▪ Contrary to what we may have been taught to think, unnecessary and unchosen suffering wounds us but need not scar us for life. It does mark us. What we allow the mark of our suffering to become is in our own hands.

▪ “I do not mean to be sentimental about suffering—but people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who they are.”

▪ Growing up is, at heart, the process of learning to take responsibility for whatever happens in your life. To choose growth is to embrace a love that heals.

▪ Healthy families resolve conflict without coercion, shaming, or violence.

▪ “A functional healthy family is one in which all the members are fully functional and all the relationships between the members are fully functional. As human beings, all family members have available to them the use of all their human power. They use these powers to cooperate, individuate and to get their collective and individual needs met. A functional family is the healthy soil out of which individuals can become mature human beings.” In the functional family self-esteem is learned and there is a balance between autonomy

▪ Long before the terms “functional” and “dysfunctional” were used to identify types of families, those of us who were wounded in childhood knew it because we were in pain. And that pain did not go away even when we left home. More than our pain, our self-destructive, self-betraying behavior trapped us in the traumas of childhood. We were unable to find solace or release. We could not choose healing because we were not sure we could ever mend, that the broken bits and pieces could ever be put together again. We comforted ourselves by acting out. But this comfort did not last. It was usually followed by depression and overwhelming grief. We longed to be rescued because we did not know how to save ourselves. More often than not we became addicted to living dangerously. Clinging to this addiction made it impossible for us to be well in our souls. As with all other addiction, letting go and choosing wellness was our only way of rescue and recovery.

▪ Making the primal choice to be saved does not mean we do not need support and help with problems and difficulties. It is simply that the initial gesture of taking responsibility for our well-being, wherein we confess to our brokenness, our woundedness, and open ourselves to salvation, must be made by the individual. This act of opening the heart enables us to receive the healing offered us by those who care.

▪ This community offers to individuals, some for the first time ever in their lives, a taste of that acceptance, care, knowledge, and responsibility that is love in action. Rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion.

▪ After we have made the choice to be healed in love, faith that transformation will come gives us the peace of mind and heart that is necessary when the soul seeks revolution. It is difficult to wait. No doubt that is why biblical scriptures urge the seeker to learn how to wait, for waiting renews our strength. When we surrender to the “wait” we allow changes to emerge within us without anticipation or struggle. When we do this we are stepping out, on faith.

▪ In Buddhist terms this practice of surrender, of letting go, makes it possible for us to enter a space of compassion where we can feel sympathy for ourselves and others. That compassion awakens us to the healing power of service.

▪ Love in action is always about service, what we do to enhance spiritual growth. A focus on individual reflection, contemplation, and therapeutic dialogue is vital to healing.

▪ Serving others is as fruitful a path to the heart as any other therapeutic practice. To truly serve, we must always empty the ego so that space can exist for us to recognize the needs of others and be capable of fulfilling them. The greater our compassion the more aware we are of ways to extend ourselves to others that make healing possible.

▪ To know compassion fully is to engage in a process of forgiveness and recognition that enables us to release all the baggage we carry that serves as a barrier to healing. Compassion opens the way for individuals to feel empathy for others without judgment. Judging others increases our alienation. When we judge we are less able to forgive. The absence of forgiveness keeps us mired in shame. Often, our spirits have been broken again and again through rituals of disregard in which we were shamed by others or shamed ourselves. Shame breaks and weakens us, keeping us away from the wholeness healing offers. When we practice forgiveness, we let go of shame. Embedded in our shame is always a sense of being unworthy. It separates. Compassion and forgiveness reconnect us.

▪ Forgiveness not only enables us to overcome estrangement, it intensifies our capacity for affirming one another. Without conscious forgiveness there can be no genuine reconciliation. Making amends both to ourselves and to others is the gift compassion and forgiveness offers us. It is a process of emptying out wherein we let go all the waste so that there is a clear place within where we can see the other as ourself.

▪ LOVE REDEEMS. DESPITE all the lovelessness that surrounds us, nothing has been able to block our longing for love, the intensity of our yearning. The understanding that love redeems appears to be a resilient aspect of the heart’s knowledge. The healing power of redemptive love lures us and calls us toward the possibility of healing. We cannot account for the presence of the heart’s knowledge. Like all great mysteries, we are all mysteriously called to love no matter the conditions of our lives, the degree of our depravity or despair. The persistence of this call gives us reason to hope. Without hope, we cannot return to love. Breaking our sense of isolation and opening up the window of opportunity, hope provides us with a reason to go forward.

▪ Cynicism is the greatest barrier to love. It is rooted in doubt and despair. Fear intensifies our doubt. It paralyzes. Faith and hope allow us to let fear go. Fear stands in the way of love. When we take to heart the biblical insistence that “there is no fear in love,” we understand the necessity of choosing courageous thought and action.

▪ As our cultural awareness of the ways we are seduced away from love, away from the knowledge that love heals gains recognition, our anguish intensifies. But so does our yearning. The space of our lack is also the space of possibility. As we yearn, we make ourselves ready to receive the love that is coming to us, as gift, as promise, as earthly paradise.

◆ Thirteen: Destiny: When Angels Speak of Love

▪ Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone—we find it with another.

▪ “In that calmness we begin to understand that peace is not the opposite of challenge and hardship. We understand that the presence of light is not a result of darkness ending. Peace is found not in the absence of challenge but in our own capacity to be with hardship without judgment, prejudice, and resistance. We discover that we have the energy and the faith to heal ourselves, and the world, through an openheartedness in this movement.”

▪ “Shame is the most disturbing emotion we ever experience directly about ourselves, for in the moment of shame we feel deeply divided from ourselves. Shame is like a wound made by an unseen hand, in response to defeat, failure or rejection. At the same moment that we feel most disconnected, we long to embrace ourselves once more, to feel reunited. Shame divides us from ourselves, just as it divides us from others, and because we still yearn for reunion, shame is deeply disturbing.”

▪ Shame about woundness keeps many people from seeking healing. They would rather deny or repress the reality of hurt. In our culture we hear a lot about guilt but not enough about the politics of shame. As long as we feel shame, we can never believe ourselves worthy of love.

▪ All individuals who are genuinely seeking well-being within a healing context realize that it is important to that process not to make being a victim a stance of pride or a location from which to simply blame others. We need to speak our shame and our pain courageously in order to recover. Addressing woundedness is not about blaming others; however, it does allow individuals who have been, and are, hurt to insist on accountability and responsibility both from themselves and from those who were the agents of their suffering as well as those who bore witness. Constructive confrontation aids our healing.

▪ We are all wounded at times. A great many of us remain wounded in the place where we would know love. We carry that wound from childhood into adulthood and on into old age. The story of Jacob reminds us that embracing our wound is the way to heal. He accepts his vulnerability.

▪ From childhood on, I found many of my angels in favorite authors, writers who created books that enabled me to understand life with greater complexity. These works opened my heart to compassion, forgiveness, and understanding.

▪ Understanding all the ways fear stands in the way of our knowing love challenges us. Fearful that believing in love’s truths and letting them guide our lives will lead to further betrayal, we hold back from love when our hearts are full of longing. Being loving does not mean we will not be betrayed. Love helps us face betrayal without losing heart. And it renews our spirit so we can love again. No matter how hard or terrible our lot in life, to choose against lovelessness—to choose love—we can listen to the voices of hope that speak to us, that speak to our hearts—the voices of angels. When angels speak of love they tell us it is only by loving that we enter an earthly paradise. They tell us paradise is our home and love our true destiny.

#2022 #september 2022 #bell hooks #all about love

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xansmenagerie · 2 years

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Mist

There is a story I remember from my childhood. It is one I have told my children, although I do not believe they have told theirs. Too scary for a child, mama, they have said to me, forgetting that fear is a part of childhood; but I digress. As my mother told me, there is a creature that lives in the mist, or perhaps it is the mist itself, or something that can only walk in misty weather. She never did tell that part the same twice.

If someone went into the mist, or if the house grew cold enough for the mist to creep inside, then the creature would sneak, sneak, sneak up to a person, and as they drew breath it would whisk inside of them and curl up around their heart. The person might not notice right away, not if the creature was clever. It would lurk and feed on their hopes and dreams and loves until it was strong enough, and then...

At this point my boys would be looking at me, clutching their blankets and looking at me with their big, round eyes, both wanting to know what the creature did and being too scared to find out.

One night, when it was big and fat and strong enough to do so, the creature would get inside the person's heart and mind and soul, and it would show them all the things they had done in their lives, whole and unadorned. All the lies, all the betrayals, all the hurts caused and wounds laughed at, they would be forced to see all of it and understand the person they truly were. Most people were driven mad by this; unable to face themselves their mind would rend itself apart and their soul flee from their body, leaving only the creature behind.

Only two sorts of people were said to be able to defeat the creature; heroes capable of accepting all that they had done with their lives, no matter how vicious or bloody, having done it solely for good reasons, and true innocents, who had done nothing with their lives that they could have cause to regret. Even then they could not destroy it, only send it into hiding once more, but so long as they remained true to themselves they would always resist the creature's drive towards their destruction.

But mama, my eldest would say, that's not very difficult at all! And I would ask him to think about everything he had done, the times he had teased his little brother or thrown a stone at a cat for no reason, and after a moment he would go very quiet.

But mama, my youngest would then say, what about the people who didn't win? What happened to them? Did they die?

As my mother told me, the person did die, for a naked soul with no body does not last very long in the world. But the body would not die; the creature would take control of it entirely, and live the person's life for them how they should have lived it. You've heard of a death rattle, a person's last breath in this world? That is the sound of the creature escaping once more, to rejoin the mist for a time.

She puts down her pen, looking into the distance. Her two little boys are grown men now with families of their own; they visit now and again, but she has mostly been alone for years now. So many things she could have done and never did, so many she did but should never have. Her eyes drift to the garden outside the window; in the autumn dusk the mist is rising, weaving between the apple trees and making her joints ache. She picks up the pen once more.

When I was little I never questioned the story, and took care to keep inside and warm when the mists came. I lived my life as best as I could just in case it found me anyway.

As I grew older I began to doubt and to forget, and allowed others to make me forget. I lived as I pleased, not thinking about how my actions affected those around me.

Now I am old, and not only do I believe once more, but...I hope.

She puts down the pen once more, carefully replacing the lid, and painfully hauls herself up from her chair. Her joints creak and complain from the cold, but she ignores them; she left the fire unlit for a reason. With the aid of her stick she hobbles to the door and fumbles with the latch; it swings open. As the tendrils of mist come creeping, creeping, creeping around her, she stands as straight as she can, breathes in deeply...and hopes.

#fairy tale #kinda #standalone #short fic #first person #writeblr #writblr

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fuckspn · 3 years

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god i hate the dean/lisa relationship so much. “when i do picture myself happy, it’s with you” bro you don’t even KNOW her, you’ve literally spent like 4 non-consecutive days together over the course of a decade. dean, for $100 name three of lisa’s hobbies. for another $100 tell me where she was born. i will empty my bank account for you if you can tell me her middle name

#like it's just the writers trying to create this heterosexual white picket fence alternative life for dean #but it doesn't work because he doesn't fucking know lisa at all and consequently neither does the audience #plus like. yall already had the 'love interest outside the life who dean truly loved but couldn't make it work with' thing!#cassie was great! why did you feel the need to retread that ground with another character!#the fuckspn rewatch #not even touching the fact that he also said just before this #that living the life he does he's accepted that he's going to die painfully and won't get a happily ever after #fellas is it good narrative structure to fulfill a character's worst trauma-born expectations for himself #after 15 years of establishing that even though he expects that ending he wants a different one?#the greatest hits

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

The Instructor - Part 5

Summary: Augusts confronts your betrayal.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 4k

Warnings: Dark, violence, abuse, choking, hitting, punching, orgasm denial, orgasm control, sex (p in v), mdom/fsub, switch, praise kink, degradation kink, name calling, dubious consent. I tried to mention everything if I missed something I sincerely apologise.

Authors Note: FINAL PART. There are probably going to be massive plot holes, sorry about that, this was never meant to be a series, so I didn’t do anywhere near the set up needed. However, I’m glad I did do a series because I enjoyed playing around with some of the darker aspects of the story. If it sucks, I'm sorry, I just went for it and this is what came out! It probably also isn't strictly cannon, but I made use of some aspects of the MI cannon.

Unbeta'd and unedited, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Part 4

The Instructor Part 5

You thought you had felt true fear before this moment, but you were wrong. Confronted with the unyielding stare of August, your stomach twists and your mouth goes dry. You’re completely and utterly fucked.

You try to answer August, make up a believable lie, beg forgiveness, say anything. But you can’t, it’s like he can see into your soul and you know that any lie you tell him will only make him angrier.

Quicker than lightning, August’s hands grip your throat. He pushes you to the wall, uncaring as your head hits it so hard your vision swims. Both his hands push into your neck, compressing your arteries and you feel the blood pooling, building pressure behind your eyes. This wasn’t the subtle choking he engaged in when you played. No, this was Special Agent August Walker trying to kill you.

You are stretched against the wall, your toes barely touch the ground. You are a trained soldier, but August is a trained assassin, you know you won’t last long in a situation like this, you will pass out in less than a minute. Then all August had to do was keep squeezing and you would be dust.

“Why, pet?” August asks through clenched teeth.

You can’t speak, you have no air. You plead to August with your eyes, silently begging him to stop. His hands press harder and you feel him crushing your trachea with his leathal hands. You scratch at his hands, his face, his eyes. You kick with your feet, frantic, feeling yourself get weaker by the second. You get one lucky shot in and for a moment August’s grip falters as he doubles over retching in pain.

You slam the palm of your hand into his forearms and he lets you go. You run for the door, your nudity the last of your concerns. Your throat hurts as you run, bruised and raw, you gulp breath in, coughing you try and fill your lungs again. You reach the door, pull the handle. It stops, not making a full rotation.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration. You turn the lock and try to open in again. It does and for a brief moment you taste freedom.

A foot kicks the door closed and August is in front of you. You back away from him as he locks it again. In the unlikely event you live through this night, you will never forget the snarl on his face. You look into his eyes, expecting to see the eyes of a killer and August doesn’t disappoint. His azure eyes burn with such murderous intent, for a moment you think you are going to lose control of your bladder.

But there is something else there, something he tries to hide behind his fury. You search his face, trying to see past the mask and find what he is concealing. You wince when you see it. August was hurt. Your betrayal had hurt him.

“This is even more fun than the first time we fucked, Pet,” he says, mockingly. August advances on you with a bullish intent. He is magnificent as he stalks you, his loose pyjama pants hang low on his hips, his chest is taut and his thick ropey arms flex as he readies them for a fight.

You try and think clearly, maybe you should confess everything. He’s going to kill you if you don’t. If only you had long enough to check his records, but you couldn’t put your associates at risk if you weren’t sure.

Lifting your chin, you accept your fate. You ready a fighting stance, and August does too. You understand you can’t beat him, but you won’t die without a fight.

You dodge his first attack, and you’re not surprised that he led with his fists. He only needs one to land and he would break your bones. You retreat to the kitchen, praying its laid out the same as yours. Opening the draw with the knives, you pull one out. It’s not ideal, its weight wasn’t distributed well for fighting, but it was better than nothing. Your gun is in your room and you have no idea where August keeps his.

Turning the tables and going on the offensive, you make August back up and you move to the door. You hold the knife expertly, and as long as you keep August from getting his own weapon, the fight might be a fair one. You have so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you start to shake. The blade accentuates the tremors and August see’s, of course he would find your weakness.

“Put the knife down, Pet,” August orders, his voice was smooth, calm and commanding. You nearly stumble, his words sent shivers down your spine. How can he still have an effect on you? “You know I can’t let you out of here.”

You gage the distance to the door, it was still so far away. Your fear made you want to run to it again, but you knew it would be a mistake. Better to keep advancing slowly, forcing August back.

But August stops retreating and plants himself in front of the door. He stretches his neck, rolls his shoulders, his naked torso hides nothing and you see his muscles ripple under his skin. Your body and mind are in conflict, confused by the stimulus. You’re terrified of August, but fear of him and what he is capable of was part of his appeal, part of his savage, dominant sexuality. Your body can’t tell the difference and you feel it responding, your centre grows warm, throbbing and your arousal moistens the apex of your thighs.

“Please,” you murmur. Confronted with August’s obstruction and his dismissiveness of your threat, you lose hope. You feel weak and exhausted. Again, you contemplate confessing everything, but you aren’t a coward, you were realistic.

The cruel snarl on August’s face becomes a smirk as you plead. “I love hearing you beg, Pet,” he taunts.

He attacks again, this time grabbing a chair from the dining table. You try and duck but he is too fast for you and the solid wood chair cracks you over your head and shoulders. You stumble to the ground; your vision wavers and you nearly pass out. You try and get to your knees, but your arms won’t cooperate and you fall to the floor, no doubt you have a concussion. You look for the knife, see it about a metre away. With your head thumping and your heart racing, you scramble for it, but August reaches you first.

Gripping both your ankles, August uses your legs and body weight against you, flipping you onto your back. He pulls you to him, your skin rubs against the carpet and you howl with pain as you feel the fibres burn your ass and back. August climbs on top of you, his hands are at your throat again, squeezing the life from you.

“You’re killing me, August,” you try and say, but all you hear is your pathetic whimpers. You feebly punch and slap at August, but you are spent. You give up, you tried. You get angry at yourself for even thinking of giving up, but you didn’t know what else to do. You can’t win. Tears well in your eyes and start to roll down your cheeks. You squeeze them shut, ashamed that you cried in your last moments, that you gave up, that you didn’t fight.

The pressure on your throat relaxes, and you gulp in air, coughing and retching as your inflamed throat protests. You try to roll to your side to breath easier, but August doesn’t allow it, his body still traps yours and one hand still grips your throat. You feel his whiskered lips on your cheeks, kissing away your tears. You open your eyes and are consumed by his and the fire that burns within them. You wonder what your eyes are saying to his.

August shifts his hips and you feel him, hard under his thin pants. Your eyes widen, he really had been enjoying the fight. It scares you, feeling how hard and fully erect he his, aroused by trying to kill you. But you knew how hypocritical that was, because even now, terrified, a moment from death, you ache for him.

You roll your hips, sliding your bare, slick slit against August, the fabric of his pants harsh against your clit, but you feel him beneath it, and you can’t stop. You don’t want to but your craving for him was too strong.

If you didn’t know August as well as you did, you may have missed the surprise in his eyes. It came and went so quickly. His lip curled, triumphant, he had you where he wanted you, desperate, without fight left and completely his.

August’s arrogant look, his smug sneer, his complete domination of you made you lose the last shred of dignity you had and you beg for him.

“Please, please,” you whimper.

“You’re such a little whore,” August scolds you. “Do you think you can fuck your way out of this?”

You shake your head, “No.” You cry again, fat tears rolling down your cheeks in a constant stream, but you don’t stop your wanton grinding. You need to feel him inside you.

“Why are you so fucking wet, Pet?” August asks, his jeering tone warmed your face with shame.

“I don’t know!” you cry.

“Yes, you do, Pet.”

You try to turn away and hide from his knowing eyes. August won’t let you, griping your cheeks with his fingers, digging deep, the soft flesh pressing painfully against your teeth. Through your sobs you say, “Because I want you.”

“Beg me,” August’s voice changed, becoming low and hoarse. He starts to move with you, teasing you. “Beg for my cock.”

You don’t try to hold back, the words fall freely, “Please August, please.”

August tuts, “You can do better than that, Pet. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, August,” you sob. You’re ashamed of yourself, of how wet you are, how badly you want him, how easily you submit. But it feels too good, playing on the edge as you were, where fear and arousal become interchangeable, you had never felt such bliss.

Taking his pants off, August fists his cock as he takes you in, his gaze rakes over you, lingering on your desperate cunt. Lining himself up, he teases your entrance. When he slides himself over you, he groans as his eyes close and he throws his head back. You realise, you’re not as powerless as you thought, he wants you too and just as badly.

Bringing his head down next to yours, he growls in your ear, “Keep going, Pet. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck your hot little cunt.”

You start mumbling, “Please August, please. I need you.” You throw your arms around him, grip his ass and pull him closer. Your nails dig into his skin as you urge him into you.

With a violent thrust, August enters you. Both of you cry out, your twin shouts echo in each other’s ears. “You feel so good, pet. So wet and so fucking tight.” You mewl under him. He is stretching you, painfully. He offered your core no preparation and it protested his invasion, clamping down hard. August wasn’t fucking around, if he had taken any pity on you in the past, he wasn’t this time. He pumps into you, his pelvis making long driving strokes, your walls straining against the force of his cock, unready for his intrusion.

August hooks your knees over his arms and forcing your legs wider, he is finally sheathed. Increasing his pace, he uses you, furious, punishing and without pity. He offers you no pleasure, he takes what he wants. His face above you is twisted, angry, and hateful. This is payback, revenge, hurt me and I’ll destroy you. But despite that, or maybe because you feel you deserve it, a familiar pressure starts to build between your legs.

“August,” you beg. “I need to cum, please.”

Leaning down, pushing his weight onto your already strained legs, he brings his face to yours. His eyes are dark and sadistic as he says vindictively, “No.”

You groan. You were so close, you don’t know if you can stop it. “Please!” you howl. Fresh tears fill your eyes and you implore him.

“No.” August says, his voice cruel and merciless. “You cum and I’ll fuck your ass raw.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You try and think of all the parts of your body that hurt. Your head, shoulders, legs, the skin on your back rubbing against the carpet. But it doesn’t work. Your body is so warm, tingling, your skin feels alive and the pain is dull compared to the rapture you feel.

Your body is suddenly wrest from the floor. August withdraws from you and flips you onto your knees and violates you again. You feel August’s hand in your hair and he forces your face into the floor. You heard a thud next to your head, his foot is there, and he continues his assault, kneeling on one leg anchoring himself with the other.

You bite your hand to muffle your shouts, you don’t want to give August the satisfaction of hearing your pain or pleasure. You thought he was deep before, but now you feel every impact in your gut, your core uncomfortably full from his brutal jabs. You can’t stay on your knees, your legs too weak to withstand his punitive thrusts. August doesn’t care. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he continues his ruthless assault.

Unable to stop it, you feel your release approach again. You try to deny it, but the savagery of August is too much. The feel of your bodies slaming together, the slapping of his balls against your clit, the sound of his grunts of exertion overwhelm you and you can’t stop yourself from whining, “Please, August. Please. I’m fucking begging you.”

You hear August’s malicious chuckle. “No, Pet.”

August seizes you by the nape, pulling you up to your knees and your back presses against his chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, he holds you against his shoulder. His other hand moves over your breasts, kneading into them, squeezing them. His face is close to yours, you feel his ragged breath tickle your cheeks.

He starts whispering in your ear and he presses his rough hairy lip into you. “You fucking little bitch,” his voice was low, harsh and dripping with venom, but August can’t stop his desire from seeping through. “Who sent you to me? Who told you to whore yourself for me?” He pinches at your nipples, and you shudder against him writhing. His insults pushing you towards your climax as much as his touch.

“Was it the CIA?” he asks, sliding his hand down your belly to between your legs. Fear makes your heart skip, if he touched you there you would not be able to stop your orgasm. You try and pull away, but he is too strong.

“Did those useless government hacks, turn you into a fucking whore, or did you volunteer, Pet?” He slid his fingers over your slit, and one grazed your clit sending your core pulsing around his cock. You want to tell him he has it all wrong, backwards. He thinks he’s been caught, he doesn’t know he’s being recruited.

He slaps your clit with his palm, a quick flick of his wrists that shocks you and if August wasn’t holding you up, you would have doubled over in pain and ecstasy.

“Don’t fucking cum.” August orders, rubbing a calloused finger over your oversensitive clit. Then, he says, sadly and with regret, “You could have come to me, Pet. Told me. I would have protected you. I could have gotten you out.” His voice almost cracks as he adds, “We could have gotten out together. BE together.”

You want to tell him, you want that too. You didn’t mean to fall for him either, none of this was planned. His fingers dance over your hard nub, coaxing from you the orgasm he forbids. Frustration suddenly pours out of you. You fight him again, punching the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and between your legs.

“Why do you fight so hard, Pet?” he asks. Those simple words he said to you all those months ago rock you. It was his invitation to submit willingly rather than be pulled under by the force of his will. But it was different this time, it wasn’t just you at stake.

You beg again, “August…” It’s all you can say through your short gasping cries. You break out in sweat, the need in you was so strong it took everything you had to fight it.

“Answer my question and you can cum,” He says. You nod, vigorously, you don’t even feel shame at giving in so easily, you’re too far gone. He brings his face in front of yours. Your whole body is shaking under his touch as he draws your orgasm and confession out of you.

“Were you sent by the CIA?”

You shake your head, and whimper, “No.”

August looks into your eyes for a hint of a lie. When he can’t find one, he coos, “Good girl,” and you wriggle at his praise. He kisses you roughly, lips hard against yours. “You can cum now, Pet.”

With unrestrained cries, you finally allow the pressure in your core to grow. You feel your release roll over your contorting body. Your guttural shout signals you’re the arrival of your long denied ecstasy and tears streamed from your eyes as you succumb with immense relief.

August watched every second of your orgasm, his face studying yours as if to memorise every expression, until you were done and can’t hold yourself up anymore. He removes himself with a gentleness that was unexpected and he tenderly carries you to his room. Cradling your head against his chest, he kisses your forehead, muttering something you can’t catch and were too far gone to ask.

He lays you on your side, and you are so malleable and weak, you let him curl you into a ball before he leans over you. He lifts your chin and turns your head so you are looking at him. You give him a half smile, which he returns with a soft hum. His eyes go to your collar and a look of sadness crosses his face, a grief so intense you feel it too.

You don’t know what to say and neither does August. He does the only thing he knows how to do when he feels what some people call love. He fucks.

When August enters you this time it’s different. Although his thrusts are brutal and powerful, it’s not punishment. He is trying to make a connection, to see if there is something salvageable between you. He needs to know if he means anything to you. He drops his forehead onto yours, resting there while his eyes met yours. He holds your throat and his thumb plays with your thin golden collar.

“You’re still mine, Pet,” August says, firmly.

“Always yours,” you reply with certainty. And you were. But by the end of this night he would know he was yours too.

As if to seal the promise you made, August kisses you. His lips pry yours open and his gentle explorative tongue massages yours. When you kiss him back, you are surprised by the growl he makes in his throat. Feeling bold, you place a hand on his cheek as you kiss. He doesn’t pull away so you slide your other hand into his hair and you expect him to shake you off, like he did before. He allows it, and he slides his free arm around you, pulling your bodies together. The rhythm you find together is nothing like the primal fucking you two are used to. It seemed as though he was making love to you, as much as someone like August could.

You feel the warmth grow again and radiate from your core. August instinctively knows your close again and stops your kisses watch you again. “Come for me, my sweet girl,” he utters.

You fall apart. Your fist tightens in his hair, you tremble beneath him, while you call his name.

“Fuck,” he grunts while you fall over the edges, and he forces himself deep within you, splitting you, owning you as you feel him thicken and pulse, releasing his seed into your milking core. Then he breaks you by growling your name as he makes his final throes.

You’re both slick with sweat, but August doesn’t care and he brushes your face with kisses. He looks like he wants to say something, opening his mouth and closing it again without saying a word. He helps you get up and he walks you to his bathroom.

August runs you a bath, and he sits on the edge for a while, watches you while you bathe. He showers quickly before returning to his spot.

Finally, he speaks, but he looks away as he says it, and for the first time you see August doubt himself, “If not the Agency, then who?” He asks.

“We have no government affiliation,” you say.

He nods, “Why did they send you, was the plan always to use sex?”

“No, August,” you say honestly. “This was not part of the plan. I was only supposed to be assigned to you while I did my training. This assignment was last minute, I don’t even know how it happened.”

He turns his attention back to you and looks for the lie he believes he will find. When he doesn’t find it he asks, “Your aunt, was that a lie?”

“She’s officially missing,” you say. “Unofficially, she brought me into group.”

“Something doesn’t add up, Pet,” August says. “I’m don’t know anything that a hundred other agents don’t also know. What did they send you to find out?”

“You don’t get it. We don’t want to bring you down, we want to recruit you. I had to make sure you are who we think you are.”

You see a glimpse of understanding in August’s eyes. “Go on,” he prompts.

You watch him carefully as you explain, “My assignment was to find out if you were the one who wrote a certain manifesto making the rounds in certain circles.” He doesn’t blink. You smirk, realising he’s trying too hard to keep his face smooth. He is the one.

“And, am I?” he asks.

“You are,” you say moving down the bath. Unbelievably, knowing he wrote that poetic and chaotic brilliance made you hot again. “This operation is all wrong, too big for simple arms traders. You’re using the CIA to get the connections and resources you need.” You run your finger down August’s bare arm, tracing the ridges of his muscles and the slight protruding veins on his forearms. August watches you intently, trying to appear cold, but you see his breaths grow shallow and his jaw clench. “We have the resources to help a man like you,” You reach his hand, turn it palm up, and lay a kiss into it before holding it to your cheek. “’A man with vision’ Lane calls you.”

“Lane?” August says, he seems confused, and he should be.

“Yes, meet with Solomon Lane and you will get your new world August.” You take his hand off your cheek and fold down his fingers except for the middle one. You take him in your mouth curling your tongue around him, and sucking.

August can’t look away. Already thrown by being discovered, he is completely transfixed by your sudden seduction.

“How?” he breathes.

You open your mouth and show August his finger sliding down your tongue. You get out of the bath and stand in front of August. You move his finger down your body, between your breasts, over your belly and between your thighs. You slide his finger between your warm folds and you hear August groan as you rest him against your entrance.

You ask him, “Have you, ever heard of the Syndicate, Pet?”

End

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