#//dream uses it on purpose because he's a heathen

[tired-biscuit]

Imagine giving General Kiba a handjob during an important meeting- 👀👀

18+ fem!reader / cw: mentions of alcohol and risk of getting caught. royalty AU. there's tension between kiba and shino in this one!!

series masterlist

mead tastes better than you thought it would.

absent-mindedly staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace that's situated right across the great table you currently sit at, you consume the honeyed drink from your glass in small sips.

fine ladies such as yourself usually don't drink alcohol in order to obtain their graceful poise and elegant speech, you know this, however ever since your father had married - sold - you off to a war general instead of a duke, or at least a nobleman who'd know how to dance and use his utensils properly, you've since abandoned that particular idea.

so you sit there; in your 'i carry my own knife strapped to my belt like some heathen, instead of using normal silverware' husband's study. the study, which he lets you in only as of late, and which you've just realized looks absolutely divine, even if its visual does come off a tad bit blurry around the edges of your sight whenever you blink.

readjusting in your chair, you drag your gaze from one end to the other. the walls are decorated with tasteful art which he definitely did not pick or hang. the furniture, made out of wood that you suspect is surely walnut, pleasantly compliments the suave style of the entire space. incense burns in one corner, smelling prominently of sandalwood. it fills your lungs with warm hints of amber and worn leather.

it's all very male, the atmosphere, and as the minutes pass, the heaviness of it turns you somewhat dozy. truth be told, you could fall asleep right then and there, with your cheek laying flat against the table, dreams riddling your thoughts in no time. especially when you'd have thickly sweet mead warming your veins throughout the entire night, and you'd already managed to slip off your shoes just a moment prior.

wiggling your toes deeper into the carpet, you let out an appreciative sigh at how the rich material brushing against your bare soles feels astoundingly more intense than usual. being tipsy is great, you discover, and the carpet is thick and in the colour of a deep maroon red; its purpose only meant to add further to the already overly-sophisticated ambience of the room that doesn't suit the wildish personality of the general at all. you suppose that it's because he hasn't been using the study for long enough yet, but who knows?

still, you don't pay much mind to the thought as the feverish shade plays with your drunken brain the moment you dip your chin down to inspect it more closely. toes tightly curling, it's like your feet are touching molten steel from how warm and soft they've suddenly gotten, and it doesn't take you long to realize that you have no way of cooling them down.

the heat sits not on your skin; it instead brings your blood to a simmer.

your husband doesn't address the weight of your foot when you rest it on top of his boot underneath the table. with his nose nearly buried in copious stacks of maps and documents all representing your thriving nation that's ruled by the iron fist of your father, kiba has been ignoring you completely for the last three hours or so in order to strategize and prepare for his next campaign.

the war is over, he's won it - that is why you're here, after all - and yet he still works and plans ahead of time to foresee the next challenge that could possibly be thrown his way. it's a trait you catch yourself feeling slightly surprised by, perhaps even fond over; one that you wouldn't necessarily appoint to a careless brute like him.

he's all different kinds of clever than what you're normally used to, you realize. when he focuses, it's rather on anticipating attacks and finding ways to efficiently counter their assisting blows, than on poetry and music and the arts and just plain literature.

you've never seen him read a book, even if there are plenty in the library downstairs and inside this study alone. much less encountered him drawing something other than charts to place his platoons and battalions of soldiers on, and the childish-looking rabbits he sometimes scribbles for you to make you smile. philosophy is almost surely a foreign term to him, all he cares about is the bite of the fight.

so perhaps that, along with all the scheming and planning he does with his stoic advisor now, proves to be the reason as to why he hadn't fussed at all and had merely brushed you off with a quick wave of his hand when you'd whispered to him that you intend to pour yourself a drink. and a second. and later, a third.

either that, or he's slowly getting used to you actually having a mind of your own, and is letting you do whatever you please with it just so that you'd let him do his job in return.

but alas, your mind is bored. terribly so.

and standing next to your chair, with his arms spread out firmly on the table and his broad shoulders slumped, he looks mighty appealing as well.

applying further pressure to his boot, you watch as the bridge of his nose scrunches slightly at the contact. he doesn't say or do anything besides knitting his brows together, but by the time you repeat the action for a second time, way more persistently at that, he finally lifts his gaze from the group of small figurines he's been obsessively rearranging all across the map, and turns to look at you instead.

the moment your husband's attention moves onto you, his military advisor clamps his mouth shut; finally ceasing his seemingly-endless assessment of the area they've chosen to put the phantom-soldiers on, and that you've been forced to listen to for the last aeon or so.

well, not exactly forced, per se. you're in here by your own decision; because you've nagged kiba about wanting to see what his line of work looks like.

so whilst you're still trying to get used to the sudden silence to fall upon the room, you give a fleeting glance to the soldier that stands across from you, now. he's tall, fair-skinned and lean. handsome but guarded, as far as you can tell, since he doesn't even look at you, much less acknowledges your presence despite that you're of noble blood.

privilege doesn't seem to matter to military men. to him, you're just another woman amongst many. a mere breeding mare, as disgusting as that sounds.

your husband used to be just like that.

"yes, princess?" the man in question asks, putting your train of thought to an abrupt halt. when you whip your head to the side so that you can look up at him, you're able to tell that he's tired almost straight away. you can hear it in the prominent drawl of his voice and see it in his eyes. he's fed-up even if he loves to work, and it makes your brow furrow with concern.

"i-i... uhm," your tongue stumbles and you fall silent for a moment as heat steadily begins to creep up your neck. if it's because of the alcohol or the sudden racing that the sugary pet name invokes in your heart, you do not know. still, you swallow hard and calm your pulse down just enough to say, "i'm sorry, i just wanted to suggest if we'd call it a night...? you seem tired and it's getting quite late anyway, and-"

your voice fades into nothing for a second time around when he chooses to move. he's slow but everlastingly robust as he sighs and plops down onto the chair that's right on your left. his body slumps against the finely-carved details in the backrest and you try to pretend that you don't notice the visible cord that pushes against his neck when he moves to stretch it from side to side. try to play ignorant at how he spreads his legs underneath the edge of the table and sits as if he comandeers the entire room.

it's probably because he does.

he rubs at his eye now, all sleepy and laggard, and uses the other one to look at you. "let me just figure out if the terrain we chose is passable, and then i promise you that we'll head straight to bed." he blinks, then. fights back a yawn because he hasn't been sleeping well for nearly a week straight. "does that sound all right?"

a blush sears your face at his words, its warmth making your cheeks feel like they're tingling as you turn away and indulge in your sudden bashfulness. he might be a smooth talker or maybe you're just drunk, but goddammit; the fact that he's actually willing to put in the effort to settle on an agreement almost regularly now, lights your entire body on fire.

you're changing him for the better day by day and your lips keep tugging upward at the corners because of it, especially when you say, "yes, that's fine by me."

"good," he mumbles, taking note of the beam before he turns his attention back towards his aloof-looking subordinate. "now, where were we, shino?"

shino, as you've just learned is the advisor's name, quirks a dark, inquisitive brow at the exchange he's just witnessed. the man before you doesn't remember his general ever acting this considerate around anyone, much less a woman.

it makes his eyes dance between you as he clears his throat. "if i may suggest," his gaze goes back and forth again, "that if the lady wishes to retire for the evening, she should be free to do so? we've still got a lot of material to go through, and disturbances like these aren't of any help when it comes to making a decision, i'm sure."

disturbances.

your heart drops right down to the pit of your stomach. the fact that the word affects you is hard to hide; embarrassment makes your face burn once more, because now you've got your husband's thigh firmly pressing against the side of yours underneath the table. his knee bounces in a quick rhythm that doesn't help calming you down, but one bump to your leg reminds you to keep your spine ramrod straight and your chin held high.

when you look at him from the corner of your eye, there's a small smile playing on his lips. and yet, his voice sounds like it's being grit out through clenched teeth as he says, "i don't know what kind of wife you've got back at home, but mine sure isn't a disturbance; as you've so kindly put it."

"i understand that, sir," shino says, his voice remaining perfectly flat, "but she-"

"the lady suggested that we should perhaps put a halt on this thing, because she can tell that i'm fed up and fucking tired," the other man cuts in, pinching the bridge of his nose with his scarred fingers. "and as far as i can tell, that's not a disturbance; it's rather affection coming from a caring spouse. besides, she has a point. what fruitful decision had ever been made by an exhausted general?"

the advisor's eyes narrow as your own shoot wide open. your heart insists on fluttering back up towards its rightful place, even as shino says, "i don't seem to recall you ever being this careful during the planning of a campaign before... usually you're more than eager to run headfirst into battle and i have to be the one stopping you."

"well, i've got more important things to consider and worry about now. much larger things are at stake," the general replies, brushing him off with a simple gesture of his hand. "now, go fetch me that book you were talking about earlier; i think i saw it in the bookcase over there by the window. after we skim it, we can call it a night so that we're all happy."

he makes it sound like an order, not a request. and sure enough, his advisor is still a soldier, so he quietly obeys as he pushes away from the table and turns his back towards you both whilst heading towards the bookcase at the other side of the room. you don't miss the subtle albeit frustrated tick in his jaw as he does so. it makes you muse.

meanwhile, kiba uses the chance to press a hasty kiss to your still-warm cheek. the sudden affection nearly makes you audibly gasp, but you're fast to stifle it down even if the mead in your belly tells you not to.

instead, you place your hand on his thigh and don't dare look into his big brown eyes as you mutter a meek, "i'm sorry."

"eh? what on earth are you sorry for, princess? you were just looking out for me, were you not?" he rasps, his voice no longer sharp, but playful. "besides, shino should be the one apologizing for acting like a stuck-up cunt towards my goddamn wife."

"oh, you can't just-" a small giggle bubbles up your throat at his blatant cursing. you're quick to cover your mouth with your other palm, but a fraction of it still manages to slip out. he can't deny it anymore; the sound jumpstarts kiba's very heart.

he doesn't tell you this, but he's growing more fond of you with each passing day. you bring sunshine and warmth into his existence by merely existing yourself. slowly figuring out a functioning dynamic that works well between you, sharing a bed and sometimes a bath, having someone to talk to late at night, receiving little signs of affection; it all makes him feel like life is worth living. like he's worth living for.

so it's no wonder why his hand cups your chin and he whispers, "so... could i perhaps get a little kiss? as a reward for being such a good husband?"

you're clearly flustered, because now you're looking at him from underneath your lashes as you mumble, "now?"

"mhmm," he purrs, draping his free arm over the backrest of your chair. "right now."

"but what if your advisor-"

"you know that book i mentioned earlier?" he interrupts, leaning in even closer. he smells like a forest; deep and rich, earthy. it titillates your senses.

"mm," is all you offer in answer. god, you're so drunk that the heat between your legs is pulsating in his presence. it's becoming almost unbearable, you feel like a whore despite that he's your husband.

he glances towards the other man in the room, whose back is still turned towards you as he keeps searching the bookshelves. "...well, i might have forgotten to mention that it's up in my bedroom because i'd been reading it just last night."

you blink, clearly surprised. "you read?"

"only when i have to." he glances across the room again before he licks his lips and says, "but the point i'm trying to make is that he's gonna be searching for it for a long while, so i think it's safe to say that a kiss would go entirely unnoticed."

you sigh at this, but succumb rather quickly. it might be because of the alcohol that's still coursing your system or because of his coaxing and urging, but by the time your lips press against his own softly, aiming for a simple peck, he's quick to immediately turn it into something deeper.

he just likes you so much. and can you blame him that he wants a little bit of loving from the person he admires, after the tough, absolutely draining week he's had? he's just so needy.

and he's also a messy kisser. your whimper is silenced when he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and licks your teeth with the swift arrogance of an assured male. he angles your head by pressing his thumb underneath your chin and sucks on your bottom lip until it starts to feel awfully tender and bruised. you can feel the slight grazing of his unnaturally sharp incisor every once in a while as he continues to taste you. it's enough to drive a woman completely mad.

especially because you can feel him hardening just underneath your palm, now. it seems that your treacherous hand had decided to act upon its own selfish desires whilst you were too busy handling his tongue in your mouth, and had inched higher up his leg until it'd finally settled on the now-prominent bulge that resides in his pants.

by the time you pull apart for air, his cock is already pushing against the buttons and there's a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. his cheeks are flushed, brown eyes glazed as he releases his hold on your chin and swipes his thumb across your lip to get rid of the spit there.

"we shouldn't-" you start, but he silences you by wedging his thumb between your plush lips and pushing it into your mouth, right to the knuckle. you can see his pupils dilate when your first instinct is to suck on it.

"fuck, you've got such a good-lookin' mouth; but i can't... just..." he mumbles somewhat dazedly now, his voice hoarse in that appealing way that tells you he's horny out of his fucking mind, and so quick, too. he inhales a sharp breath, shaking his head as if he's trying to gather his thoughts before he focuses on you again and rasps, "just stroke it. over my pants."

when you give his advisor a sidelong glance, you're relieved to find out that he's still stubbornly searching for the book in hopes of not disappointing his superior. but unfortunately for you, your husband isn't pleased with you directing your attention on another man at a crucial time like this.

"hey... look at me, princess," he taps his fingers against your cheekbone and presses his thumb onto the flat of your tongue, making you wince in surprise when your throat tightens in answer. "i need you to stroke my cock, all right?"

all you do is grunt in response. the sound comes out muffled.

"it'll just look like we're whispering to each other. you know, as a married couple does from time to time," he inches closer, his way of speaking urgent. "i promise he won't notice a thing."

he's gotten so desperate now that he's even wrapped his hand around your own and started moving it up and down his length. when your grip tightens around his clothed cock, you watch in awe as he bites his lip to suppress a groan.

his arm is still resting on your chair's backrest when he pushes forward again and nearly covers your body from sight with his own. hunching his back, he tries to hide the way his ribcage expands whenever he sucks in breaths that grow deeper by the second. you can feel the film of sweat on his forehead when he rests it against your own.

"sir? i can't seem to find the book," shino starts. your heart nearly gives out at the sound of his voice, it's like lightning flashes throughout your every cell.

"keep lookin', i'm sure it's in there somewhere," kiba bites out immediately. all polite talk has ceased to exist.

"but-"

"that's an order, soldier."

you push his thumb out of your mouth with the help of your tongue to chide, "that doesn't seem really convincing! if he turns around, it'll-"

"look like we're gossiping," kiba persists. you nearly squeak when his fingers dig into your gown and rest on your thigh. "like a married couple; just like i've said."

"h-hey-"

"just keep going," he hisses. his eyes are so dark that it makes you fear they'll swallow you whole, and as if he can sense your growing anxiety, he forces his gaze to soften a bit before he adds, "please. you're doing such a good job and i really want this."

you're scared of getting caught because you're supposed to be representing the image of innocence, but truth be told; you're also impeccably thrilled at the same time. he feels big in your hand; fat and heavy and warm between your fingers even over the layer of fabric. every time you squeeze him over his pants, he twitches and bucks his hips right into your touch just to gain more friction.

"fuck yes, princess." every breath is ragged. "that's it... gonna make me cum so fast."

"shh! keep quiet."

it's kind of sweet, how evidently he needs you. but it's also lewd.

the things this man's libido makes him do is unbelievable. it's only been a couple of days since he's last made love to you, and here he is; with his sanity nearly crumbling down to its pillars whilst teaching you how to give him a not at all subtle, under-the-table handjob even if there's an audience nearby. you can't believe he's willing to risk his rank or fall subject to despicable rumours for just a mere touch of your hand.

either he's absolutely delirious, or he's a fool in love. but nevertheless, by the time shino at long last admits defeat and confesses he's unable to find the book; he's also sated.

and as for you; well, let's just say it's hard not to laugh at the knowledge that your husband's pants are sticky with cum when you excuse yourself from the table and he's stuck in the study, rearranging his little toy soldiers.

#this turned out way more detailed than i anticipated but oh well jdjdjdjdj #i love him ur honour #kiba smut #kiba x reader #naruto smut #biscuit's royalty au #biscuit drabbles

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

31st October >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Tuesday, Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green: A (1))

First Reading Romans 8:18-25 The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons.

I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons. It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, it was made so by God; but creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first-fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved – our salvation is not in sight, we should not have to be hoping for it if it were – but, as I say, we must hope to be saved since we are not saved yet – it is something we must wait for with patience.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 125(126)

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

When the Lord delivered Zion from bondage, it seemed like a dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, on our lips there were songs.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

The heathens themselves said: ‘What marvels the Lord worked for them!’ What marvels the Lord worked for us! Indeed we were glad.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

Deliver us, O Lord, from our bondage as streams in dry land. Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

They go out, they go out, full of tears, carrying seed for the sowing: they come back, they come back, full of song, carrying their sheaves.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

Gospel Acclamation John 15:15

Alleluia, alleluia! I call you friends, says the Lord, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. Alleluia!

Or: Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 13:18-21 The kingdom of God is like the yeast that leavened three measures of flour.

Jesus said, ‘What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it with? It is like a mustard seed which a man took and threw into his garden: it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air sheltered in its branches.’

Another thing he said, ‘What shall I compare the kingdom of God with? It is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour till it was leavened all through.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[notmuchtoconceal]

ASS-WORSHIP :--

By: Kaufmann Kohler & Samuel Krauss

Table of Contents

Various Authors of the Calumny.

Same Accusation Against Early Christians.

Josephus' Disproof for the Jews.

Mockery of Christianity.

Real Foundation in a Gnostic Sect.

Origin in the Egyptian Typhon-Worship.

Jews Can Not Be Connected with Typhon-Worship.

Origin of Accusation in Alleged Bacchus-Worship.

The accusation that Jews worshiped the ass was for four centuries persistently made by certain Greek and Latin writers. Various Authors of the Calumny. (1) Mnaseas of Patras (second century B.C.) is quoted by Josephus ("Contra Ap." ii. 9) as claiming that the Jews worshiped the head of a golden ass (χρυσὴν . . . τοῦ κάνϑωνος κεφαλήν). The word κάνϑων, instead of the usual ὂνος, suggested by its similarity to the κάνϑωρος (the scarabs), worshiped in Egypt, betrays the Egyptian standpoint of the author, it being also used to denote the sign upon the tongue of the Egyptian god Apis. (2) A similar charge is made by Damocritus (Suidas, s.v. Δαμόκριτος), whose period is undetermined, but who certainly preceded Josephus. In his book "About the Jews" Damocritus asserts that the Jews reverenced the head of a golden ass (χρυσὴν ὂνου κεφαλην προσεκύνουν), to which every seven years they sacrificed a foreigner, whom they seized for that purpose, and cut his flesh into small pieces. Suidas (s.v. 'Ιούδας καὶ 'Ιουδαῖος) places the interval between these ritual-murders at three years instead of seven. (3) The next writer is Plutarch (46-120), who, in his "Quæstiones Conviviales," iv. 5, states that the Jews abstained from eating the flesh of the hare because it resembled the ass, which is an animal worshiped by them. (4) Julius Florus, who lived under Antoninus Pius, speaks of the conquest of Jerusalem by Pompey, and mentions a secret place discovered in the Temple on that occasion, which contained, he says, an ass under a golden vine ("sub aurea vite cillum"). But the word "cillum," the most important word in the passage, is only a guess at a very much disfigured text, which, in its received form, gives no sense at all. This author's testimony, therefore, hardly deserves consideration. (5) Quite different from these accounts is that in Diodorus, "Eclogæ," § 34, by Posidonius of Apamæa (died about 51 B.C.), that when Antiochus Epiphanes conquered Jerusalem in the year 168 B.C. and entered the Temple, he found in the Holy of Holies the image of a man sitting upon an ass (καϑήμενον ἔπ δνον) and holding a book in his hand; the king understood the statue to represent Moses. In addition to the association of this story with an historical personage, Antiochus Epiphanes, and to the mention of a statue, this account is further distinguished by the element that not the head alone but the whole animal is referred to, just as in Plutarch. Apion combined these accounts in stating that the Jews had in their Temple an ass's head set up, which was discovered when Antiochus Epiphanes penetrated into the sacred precincts (Josephus, "Contra Ap." ii. 7; all the passages referred to are given by Th. Reinach, "Fontes Rerum Judaicarum," i., Paris, 1895). Reinach (p. 131) remarks that it is clear from Josephus that Apollonius Molon, too, was acquainted with the calumny.

( o )

Same Accusation Against Early Christians. As was the case with many another calumny against the Jews, Christianity, the daughter-religion of Judaism, was likewise charged with Ass-Worship (see Minucius Felix, "Octavius," ix., xxviii.). As Tertullian ("Apologia," xvi.) remarks tersely and truthfully, the same accusation was made against Christians because theirs was the nearest to the Jewish religion ("ut Judaicæ religionis propinquos"). Writing against the heathens, Tertullian further says, "Certain people out of your midst have dreamed that an ass's head is our God" (see also "Ad Nationes," i. 11). He quotes Tacitus, who, as is well known, contributed most to spread false reports concerning Judaism. Tacitus' story runs ("Historiæ," v. 3) that the Jews suffered from thirst in the wilderness, and that they followed a herd ofwild asses which led them to a spring of water; in recognition of this benefit they made the domestic ass—its nearest congener—the object of their worship. A similar account is found in Plutarch (l.c. iv. § 5). These accounts are essentially different from the preceding ones, for they endeavor to supply some cause for such a remarkable form of worship.

Josephus' Disproof for the Jews. Josephus knows nothing of any such alleged reason. He takes ("Contra Ap." ii. 7) the whole story as a stupid calumny, all the more despicable as it seeks to detract from the sanctity of the celebrated Temple. With clever irony he remarks that it ill befits Apion the Egyptian to bring forward such an accusation, for nothing can be more absurd than the Egyptian animal worship. The falsity of this shameful charge is established by facts: for Antiochus Epiphanes (Theus), Pompey the Great, Licinius Crassus, and lastly Titus, who all entered the Temple, found nothing there of that kind, but found, instead, the purest forms of divine adoration. Tacitus, as quoted by Tertullian, expressly states that Pompey found no image or idol in the Temple. Although this disproof seems quite sufficient as defense, it gives no clue concerning the origin of such a report. Tertullian indicates that he considers the calumny as simply the offspring of malevolence, for it was in like manner, he relates in his "Apologia," xvi., that a rascal in his town (in "Ad Nationes," i. 14, he is described as a Jew), who had to take care of the wild animals intended for the arena, would carry around an image with the inscription "Onokoites, the God of the Christians." The image had ass's ears, a hoof on one foot, and it carried a book and a toga. The meaning of the word "Onokoites" is not clear.

Mockery of Christianity. But it is very evident that the image must have been intended for the amusement of the crowds, and that the intended mockery of Christianity must have been understood as referring to one of the best-known dogmas of Christianity. The word ὀνοκοίτης, formed after the analogy of παρακοίτης —though not strictly according to philological rules —caused Tertullian to observe "risimus et nomen" (the very name of it made us laugh). It probably hints at something like ex concubitu asini (et feminœ) procreatus, and is thus a malicious insult upon the Christian God, claimed to be a compound being, both God and man (H. Kellner, "Ausgewählte Schriften des Septimius Tertullianus," i. 62, 1871). This anecdote, however, can not be taken as indicating that the Jews transferred the reproach under which they had suffered from themselves to the Christians; for it is simply the silly wit of a coarse hireling that had deserted the Jewish faith to become champion fighter with wild beasts, as Tertullian himself states.

Real Foundation in a Gnostic Sect. Now all these varying accounts are remarkably illustrated by a graffito found in Rome in 1856, representing a man bearing the head of an ass, and nailed to a cross, before whom another man kneels in the attitude of adoration (F. S. Kraus, "Das Spottcruzifix," Freiburg, i. Br. 1872). Another graffito, found likewise on the Palatine in Rome, depicts the same man, and designates him as "fidelis" (faithful); so that this is not intended for a caricature, as usually claimed, but for an earnestly intended symbol of faith (Wünsch, "Sethianische Verfluchungstafeln aus Rom," p. 112, Leipsic, 1898). From the circumstance that at the right of the ass's head (see p. 222) there stands a Y, Wünscn deduces that it is a symbol of the Typhon-Seth worship, for on the numerous curse-tablets in Rome the same symbol always stands at the right of the ass's head of Typhon-Seth.

It is the religious symbol of the Gnostic sect of the Sethinai (from Seth, son of Adam; but also from Seth, the surname of the Egyptian god Typhon); and they in their turn derived the ass's head—as shown in the above-cited quotation from Epiphanius—from the representation of the "Jewish god Sabaoth." Wünsch is therefore inclined to consider the cult of the ass as having foundation in fact and not merely in calumny.

( . )

Jews Can Not Be Connected with Typhon-Worship. It is of course quite correct to say that the ass-cult is connected with the Egyptian god Typhon (Ælian, "V. H." x. 28). Plutarch relates ("De Iside et Osiride," ch. xxx.) that in Egypt the ass was considered of "demoniac" nature (δαιμονικόν, on account of its resemblance to Typhon (compare ib. xxxi.; M. Wellmann, "Ægyptisches," in "Hermes," 1896, xxxi. 242). But this would not explain the story of its adoption by Jews. Plutarch brings the Jews into direct connection with Typhon by making him beget "Hierosolymus" (Jerusalem) and "Judæus," after having fled upon an ass subsequently to the war with Jupiter ("De Iside et Osiride," ch. xxxi.; Reinach, l.c. p. 137). Roesch, referring to the Talmudic account, that in the Second Temple the so-called foundation-stone () took the place of the Ark of the wilderness, thinks thatthis stone is meant by Posidonius and others by their "ass' statue." The upper millstone being also metaphorically called "the ass," the enemies of the Jews took advantage of this circumstance to accuse them of worshiping a veritable ass. He claims also that a four-cornered stone is the determinative for Typhon in the hieroglyphs. But this explanation is too far-fetched to be acceptable; besides, it must not be forgotten that Mnaseas, the oldest authority for the legend, does not call the ass ὂνος, but κάνϑων. Another suggestion, that of Michaelis, that the enemies of the Jews may have seen a cherub in the Temple with an ass's head, is negatived at once by the fact that the cherubim were certainly never so represented. None of these attempted explanations is based on facts. Nor are Philo's statement (i. 371) that the Jews' golden calf represented Typhon (see Winer, "B. R.," s.v. "Kalb"), and the connection of the ass-cult with that of Seth-Typhon asserted by Movers ("Die Phönizier," i. 297, 365), and by W. Pleyte ("La Religion des Pre-Israélites," Leyden, 1865, p. 143).

Origin of Accusation in Alleged Bacchus-Worship. For explanation of the supposed Ass-Worship, the Dionysos-cult must be taken into consideration. Dionysos, or Bacchus, was, under the name of Sabazios, worshiped by the Phrygians; according to some, Dionysos himself was Sabazios, according to others Sabazios was his son. Dionysos was identified with the Semitic divinity Adonis, which easily suggests the name of the God of the Hebrews.

It is said that Dionysos encountered Aphrodite and Adonis in Lebanon; he loved their daughter Beroe (Nonnus, "Dionysiaca," xlvi.). Dionysos is identified with pretty nearly all Oriental deities, as, for example, with Moloch, Baal, Melkart, and Hadad. F. Lenormant says, therefore, in the "Dictionnaire des Antiquités," s.v. "Bacchus": "The disposition was so marked to identify the son of Semele (Bacchus) with the various deities of the Orientals that it was even pushed to the extreme of asserting that the Jews likewise worshiped Dionysos (Plutarch, 'Symposiaca,' iv. 6), an assertion based upon nothing further than the similarity of sound between the name Jehovah, Sabaoth, and that of Sabazios (Valerius Maximus, i. 3, § 2; other passages at Lenormant), likewise upon the existence of the golden vine in the Jerusalem Temple (Josephus, 'Ant.' xv. 11, § 3)." The similarity of the names Sabaoth and Sabazios, and the existence of the golden vine in the Temple, were then sufficient to suggest to the heathens, who knew very little about Jewish worship, that the Jews, like many other nations, cherished some kind of a Dionysos-worship. It is known that the excessive hilarities at the so-called "Feast of the Water-Drawing" at the Festival of Tabernacles gave cause to the accusation that the Jews celebrated Bacchanalia (see Z. Frankel, "Juden und Judenthum nach Römischer Anschauung," in "Monatsschrift," 1860, ix. 125 et seq., and Büchler, in "Rev. Et. Juives," xxxvii. 181). Now, the ass was sacred to Bacchus and an unfailing member of his train; the god is often represented as riding upon one. Note the alleged statue in Jerusalem of Moses riding upon an ass, mentioned above. Silenus, Bacchus' constant companion, also rides upon an ass. Creuzer ("Symbolik," i. 480) remarks that Silenus is the ass. The ass was considered a phallic animal, and when once the Jews were accused of the cult of Dionysos, it was not going very much further to accuse them of sexual excesses, as Tacitus does, holding them capable of every shamefulness. One charge involves the other, and calumniators of the Jews would not be likely to hesitate at an additional falsehood or two. The fables additionally connected with the asscult, such as the fattening of a Greek every seven years for an offering to the ass-god; the attempt of Zabid of Dora to rob the Jews of this god; Tacitus' story of the finding of the water-springs by the wild asses: all of them follow from the idea that the Jews worshiped Dionysos. Everything additional is the offspring simply of the hatred that the world of antiquity bore to the Jews. For this hatred there is no explanation.

#i am the donk #DONK DONK DONK

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional: January 10th

Tozer in the Morning Sin's Cure

Only God could reconstruct the world and allow for such reversals of fact; but anyone can tinker at it theoretically. Had Hitler, for instance, been a good and gentle man, six million Jews now dead would be living (making allowance for a certain few who would have died in the course of nature); had Stalin been a Christian, several million Russian farmers would be alive who now molder in the earth. And consider the thousands of little children who died of starvation because one man had a revengeful spirit; think of the millions of displaced persons who wander over the earth even today unable to locate mother or father or wife or child because men with hate in their hearts managed to get into places of power; think of the young men of almost every nation, sick with yearning for home and loved ones, who guard the empty wastes and keep watch on frozen hills in the far corners of the earth, all because one ruler is greedy, another ambitious; because one statesman is cowardly and another jealous.

To come down from the bloody plains of world events and look nearer home, how many wives will sob themselves to sleep tonight because of their husband's savage temper; how many helpless, bewildered, heartbroken children will cower in their dark bedrooms, sick with shock and terror as their parents curse and shout at each other in the next room. Is their quarrel private? Is it their own business when they fight like animals in the security of their home? No, it is the business of the whole human race. Children to the third and fourth generation in many parts of the world will be injured psychologically if not physically because a man and his wife sinned inside of four walls. No sin can be private.

Coming still closer, we Christians should know that our unchristian conduct cannot be kept in our own back yard. The evil birds of sin fly far and influence many to their everlasting loss. The sin committed in the privacy of the home will have its effect in the assembly of the saints. The minister, the deacon, the teacher who yields to temptation in secret becomes a carrier of moral disease whether he knows it or not. The church will be worse because one member sins. The polluted stream flows out and on, growing wider and darker as it affects more and more persons day after day and year after year.

But thanks be to God, there is a cure for the plague. There is a balm in Gilead. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).

Tozer in the Evening Man - The Dwelling Place of God - The Decline of Apocalyptic Expectation

A SHORT GENERATION AGO, or about the time of the first World War, there was a feeling among gospel Christians that the end of the age was near, and many were breathless with anticipation of a new world order about to emerge.

This new order was to be preceded by a silent return of Christ to earth, not to remain, but to raise the righteous dead to immortality and to glorify the living saints in the twinkling of an eye. These He would catch away to the marriage supper of the Lamb, while the earth meanwhile plunged into its baptism of fire and blood in the Great Tribulation. This would be relatively brief, ending dramatically with the battle of Armageddon and the triumphant return of Christ with His Bride to reign a thousand years.

Thus the hopes and dreams of Christians were directed toward an event to be followed by a new order in which they would have a leading part. This expectation for many was so real that it quite literally determined their world outlook and way of life. One well-known and highly respected Christian leader, when handed a sum of money to pay off the mortgage on the church building, refused to use it for that purpose. Instead he used it to help send missionaries to the heathen to hasten the Lord's return. This is probably an extreme example, but it does reveal the acute apocalyptic expectation that prevailed among Christians around the time of World War I and immediately following.

Before we condemn this as extravagant we should back off a bit and try to see the whole thing in perspective. We may be wiser now (though that is open to serious question), but those Christians had something very wonderful which we today lack. They had a unifying hope; we have none. Their activities were concentrated; ours are scattered, overlapping and often self-defeating. They fully expected to win; we are not even sure we know what "win" means. Our Christian hope has been subjected to so much examination, analysis and revision that we are embarrassed to admit that we have such a hope at all.

And those expectant believers were not wholly wrong. They were only wrong about the time. They saw Christ's triumph as being nearer than it was, and for that reason their timing was off; but their hope itself was valid. Many of us have had the experience of misjudging the distance of a mountain toward which we were traveling. The huge bulk that loomed against the sky seemed very near, and it was hard to persuade ourselves that it was not receding as we approached. So the City of God appears so large to the minds of the world-weary pilgrim that he is sometimes the innocent victim of an optical illusion; and he may be more than a little disappointed when the glory seems to move farther away as he approaches.

But the mountain is there; the traveler need only press on to reach it. And the Christian's hope is there too; his judgment is not always too sharp, but he is not mistaken in the long view; he will see the glory in God's own time.

We evangelicals have become sophisticated, blas. We have lost what someone called the "millennial component" from our Christian faith. To escape what we believe to be the slough of a mistaken hope we have detoured far out into the wilderness of complete hopelessness.

Christians now chatter learnedly about things simple believers have always taken for granted. They are on the defensive, trying to prove things that a previous generation never doubted. We have allowed unbelievers to get us in a corner and have given them the advantage by permitting them to choose the time and place of encounter. We smart under the attack of the quasi-Christian unbeliever, and the nervous, self-conscious defense we make is called "the religious dialogue."

Under the scornful attack of the religious critic real Christians who ought to know better are now "rethinking" their faith. Scarcely anything has escaped the analysts. With a Freudian microscope they examine everything: foreign missions, the Book of Genesis. the inspiration of the Scriptures, morals, all tried and proven methods, polygamy, liquor, sex, prayer-all have come in for inquisition by those who engage in the contemporary dialogue. Adoration has given way to celebration in the holy place, if indeed any holy place remains to this generation of confused Christians. The causes of the decline of apocalyptic expectation are many, not the least being the affluent society in which we live. If the rich man with difficulty enters the kingdom of God, then it would be logical to conclude that a society having the highest percentage of well-to-do persons in it would have the lowest percentage of Christians, all things else being equal. If the "deceitfulness of riches" chokes the Word and makes it unfruitful, then this would be the day of near-fruitless preaching, at least in the opulent West. And if surfeiting and drunkenness and worldly cares tend to unfit the Christian for the coming of Christ, then this generation of Christians should be the least prepared for that event.

On the North American continent Christianity has become the religion of the prosperous middle and upper classes almost entirely, the very rich or the very poor rarely become practicing Christians. The touching picture of the poorly dressed, hungry saint, clutching his Bible under his arm and with the light of God shining in his face hobbling painfully toward the church, is chiefly imaginary. One of the biggest problems of even the most ardent Christian these days is to find a parking place for the shiny chariot that transports him effortlessly to the house of God where he hopes to prepare his soul for the world to come.

In the United States and Canada the middle class today possesses more earthly goods and lives in greater luxury than emperors and maharajas did a short century ago. And since the bulk of Christians comes from this class it is not difficult to see why the apocalyptic hope has all but disappeared from among us. It is hard to focus attention upon a better world to come when a more comfortable one than this can hardly be imagined. The best we can do is to look for heaven after we have revelled for a lifetime in the luxuries of a fabulously generous earth. As long as science can make us so cozy in this present world it is hard to work up much pleasurable anticipation of a new world order.

But affluence is only one cause of the decline of the apocalyptic hope. There are other and more important ones.

The whole problem is a big one, a theological one, a moral one. An inadequate view of Christ may be the chief trouble. Christ has been explained, humanized, demoted. Many professed Christians no longer expect Him to usher in a new order; they are not at all sure that He is able to do so; or if He does, it will be with the help of art, education, science and technology; that is, with the help of man. This revised expectation amounts to disillusionment for many. And of course no one can become too radiantly happy over a King of kings who has been stripped of His crown or a Lord of lords who has lost His sovereignty.

Another cause of the decline of expectation is hope deferred which, according to the proverb, "maketh the heart sick." The modern civilized man is impatient; he takes the short-range view of things. He is surrounded by gadgets that get things done in a hurry. He was brought up on quick oats; he likes his instant coffee; he wears drip-dry shirts and takes one-minute Polaroid snapshots of his children. His wife shops for her spring hat before the leaves are down in the fall. His new car, if he buys it after June 1, is already an old model when he brings it home. He is almost always in a hurry and can't bear to wait for anything.

This breathless way of living naturally makes for a mentality impatient of delay, and when this man enters the kingdom of God he brings his short-range psychology with him. He finds prophecy too slow for him. His first radiant expectations soon lose their luster. He is likely to inquire, "Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?" and when there is no immediate response he may conclude, "My lord delayeth his coming." The faith of Christ offers no buttons to push for quick service. The new order must wait the Lord's own time, and that is too much for the man in a hurry. He just gives up and becomes interested in something else.

Another cause is eschatological confusion. The vitalizing hope of the emergence of a new world wherein dwelleth righteousness became an early casualty in the war of conflicting prophetic interpretations. Teachers of prophecy, who knew more than the prophets they claimed to teach, debated the fine points of Scripture ad infinitum while a discouraged and disillusioned Christian public shook their heads and wondered. A leader of one evangelical group told me that his denomination had recently been, in his words, "split down the middle" over a certain small point of prophetic teaching, one incidentally which had never been heard of among the children of God until about one hundred years ago.

Certain popular views of prophecy have been discredited by events within the lifetime of some of us; a new generation of Christians cannot be blamed if their Messianic expectations are somewhat confused. When the teachers are divided, what can the pupils do?

It should be noted that there is a vast difference between the doctrine of Christ's coming and the hope of His coming. The first we may hold without feeling a trace of the second. Indeed there are multitudes of Christians today who hold the doctrine of the second coming. What I have talked about here is that overwhelming sense of anticipation that lifts the life onto a new plane and fills the heart with rapturous optimism. This is what we today lack.

Frankly, I do not know whether or not it is possible to recapture the spirit of anticipation that animated the Early Church and cheered the hearts of gospel Christians only a few decades ago. Certainly scolding will not bring it back, nor arguing over prophecy, nor condemning those who do not agree with us. We may do all or any of these things without arousing the desired spirit of joyous expectation. That unifying, healing, purifying hope is for the childlike, the innocent-hearted, the unsophisticated.

Possibly nothing short of a world catastrophe that will destroy every false trust and turn our eyes once more upon the Man Christ Jesus will bring back the glorious hope to a generation that has lost it.

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[steveezekiel]

SPIRITUAL WARFARE AND TEST

1. "These are the Nations that THE LORD LEFT IN THE LAND TO TEST THOSE ISRAELITES who had not experienced the wars of Canaan.

2. HE DID THIS TO TEACH WARFARE TO GENERATIONS OF ISRAELITES who had no experience in battle."

Judges 3:1,2 (NLT)

• The main adversary Or archenemy of Believers is the devil (Revelation 12:9,10).

- Albeit, there are human beings Who yielded to the devil and are used as instruments against the Believers.

THE work of these people is to act for the devil, they are his agents.

THE devil empowered them to do evil and propagate his works on earth.

THESE people are the enemies of the people of God, Believers in general.

- These agents are: witches, occultists, wizards, voodoo priests, and some other ones would not all be removed or destroyed—they are allowed to remain for a purpose.

IF all the opposition around you are removed, and you live in comfort without any challenge from the devil, his agents and demons, you may be complacent and not serve God again.

SOME forces and human agents of the devil are permitted around you to teach you about spiritual warfare, and to test your heart whether you would obey His COMMANDMENTS or not.

"And they were left, that He might test Israel by them, TO KNOW WHETHER THEY WOULD OBEY THE COMMANDMENTS OF THE LORD, which He had commanded their fathers by the hand of Moses."

Judges 3:4 (NKJV)

• The devil is there to challenge whatever you may want to do for the kingdom.

- God would want you to face battles, challenges, and know how to handle conflicts and opposition successfully in whatever you do (1 Peter 5:8,9).

- The devil would not want you to get what the Lord has promised and apportioned you without putting up a fight.

THERE are giants in every Canaan land apportioned you by God (Numbers 13:28,31-33).

- You may not get it with ease, it has to be with violence: "And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take by force" (Matthew 11:12).

God did allow certain Nations in Canaan to teach the new generation of the Israelites about warfare.

He did not allow Joshua to kill and drive out all the inhabitants of the land completely (Judges 2:21-23).

• You can not dodge the battles, there are forces and human agents of the devil that would be allowed to teach you about spiritual warfare.

- If you leave a place because of opposition, you should know that the new place you are going, some would be there waiting for you.

THERE may not be any free and easy zone where there would not be any opposing forces.

- The forces and human agents of the devil permitted are not meant to kill you, they are allowed to train you about spiritual growth and warfare (Judges 3:2).

BY being exposed to challenges and allowed to face opposition, your spiritual strength and muscles are built up, thus you would have strong spiritual stamina—a stalwart believer.

• The Bible also mentioned that those heathen Nations were left unconquered that God May test the Israelites whether they would obey His commands or not (Judges 3:4).

LIKEWISE in the life of every believer, the forces allowed are to test them whether they would obey the commandments and instructions given them by God (Judges 3:1).

- Whenever you allowed laxity, spiritual apathy Or whatever in your life, God may permit the devil or any of his agents to touch your comfort, in order to wake you up in your slumbering and brace up as a soldier of Christ (1 Thessalonians 5:6; 2 Timothy 2:3,4).

GOD may allow your dreams to be manipulated, Also, may permit lacks, disappointments, and any other form of frustrations and oppressions in order to wake you up and pray, fast, give, be diligent in the study of the Word, attend Church meetings, and practice other spiritual principles.

GOD is not the cause of the affliction, but your spiritual apathy GIVE room to the devil to have a field Day in your life: "For God is not the author of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints" (1 Corinthians 14:33).

IF you break the hedge, the serpent will bite (Ecclesiastes 10:8).

• God is loving, He would not want you to go into spiritual apathy.

- He would not want you to lose your salvation, your fellowship with Him, and whatever Blessing He has bestowed on you.

- Whenever there is a gap between you and Him, a gap in your relationship with Him, He may permit the enemy, the devil, to shake you up and that you may run back to Him (Amos 4:6-11).

GOD would not want to share the affection you have for Him with any other person Or thing.

- When you started giving attention to someone or something more than God, then you are calling for problems.

GOD would allow whoever you give attention and whatever you give priority more than Him to humble you, disappoint you, and chastise you.

- Your attention should be given to God alone, He is interested in every affair of your life.

GOD desires our fellowship than any other thing, If you starve Him of your fellowship or communion, He will allow you to receive disappointments from wherever or whomever your focus or heart is.

• You can only take your inheritance, your promised land, through consistent fellowship with God.

DO not allow any Gap in the relationship with Him.

HAVE a plan on how to know Him the more, that is, how to grow in your walk with God.

IF you allowed any Gap in your relationship and fellowship with God, you may have to suffer for it.

• You will not regret in Jesus' name.

Peace!

#christianity #gospel #christian living #christian blog #jesus #the bible #devotion #faith #my writing #prayer

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/how-to-love-a-wall/

How To Love A Wall

My high school math teacher, Mr. Crawford, taught me a great lesson in life. I don’t remember much about the right angles of an isosceles triangle, but I do remember his adage: Your freedom stops where somebody’s chin begins. Personal freedom isn’t absolute. If I am to have it, I must respect the freedom of others. That respect generates diversity and enriches our lives. Resist diversity and inbreeding follows, a state nature abhors. Humans tend to encourage conformity and sameness, despite nature’s heeding.  Religion is remarkable for its ability to resist change. The devout would rather fight “holy” wars than alter their precepts.  Consider the number of bloody clashes throughout human history. Aware that dogma is the antithesis of democracy, our founding fathers wrote the Establishment Clause and inserted it into the First Amendment of the U. S. Constitution. They intended to  create a wall between church and state. Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito disagrees with their purpose, employing sophistry to convince us the founders meant otherwise. He frets about religious freedom as if the country was meant to be a theocracy and blames those who are without faith for its neglect.  It is hard to convince people that religious liberty is worth defending if they don’t think that religion is a good thing that deserves protection. (FreeThought Today, September 2022, pg. 7.) Though it favors none, the Frist Amendment does respect an individual’s right to have a religion. That, however, is a far cry from advocating for one. What’s more, the judge’s claim that heathens, like me, threaten religious freedom is the stuff of bad dreams. If history serves as evidence, non-believers have suffered much at the hands of zealots and not the reverse.   Alito’s language is coercive in that it casts non-believers as evil-doers. I would argue that one man’s decision not to pray in no way impedes the rights of the multitude who do. When he insists the way to protect religious freedom is the teach non-believers to care, Alito opens the door to the forced conversions we’ve seen in the past. As an atheist, I am indifferent to the means people employ to satisfy the question, “Why does the universe exist?” Much of the argument strikes me as sound and fury. Despite the many holy wars that have been fought, global religions appear to have sprung from a common root.  As far back as ancient Egypt, tablets tell the story of Horus, a god born of a virgin on December 25, who died and was resurrected after 3 days.  Religious apologists resist the comparison.  Nonetheless, Egypt’s god casts a long shadow that speaks of a common origin. Today’s conservative high court seems blind to the common precepts of many faiths. Instead, they behave as if Christianity was the one true belief and seem intent on tearing down the wall between church and state. I doubt their notion of religious freedom would create a more tolerant and perfect union. I fear that once they have cleared away the rubble of the Establishment Clause, they would dedicate themselves to codifying Christian dogma into civil law.  Doubtless, members of the religious right stand ready to cheer them on.   That concern brings me back to my math teacher’s stricture, wisdom to which I’ve added over time.  The limitation he identified I’ve come to see as a form of liberation–which is good because directing other people’s lives is beyond my capability. I spend much of my time watching my feet to keep from falling. Boundaries like age, a chin, or a wall are crucial to the landscape. Not only do they mark perimeters but they also identify the open spaces where I have a right to be free.  

#Atheists #benefits of diversity #boundaries as freeing #Christian Dogma #Egyptian god Horus #Freethought Today #religious freedom #resistance to change #Samuel Alito #shared religions myths of deity #The Establishment Clause #the wall between church and state #U. S. First Amendment

[multiverse-of-souls]

@draftink​ -  🐤!!

#The quiet snowfall (Asks) #Down' down the mountain (IC) #The judge (Sans) #Eyes brighter then the brightest stars (Underswap verse ~ Sans) #In throes of my agony' I made a choice (Dusttale AU ~ Sans) #Tick tock goes the clock (Horrortale verse ~ Sans) #You still haunt the corners of my heart (Nightmare AU ~ Sans) #There's nothing in this world i wouldn't do (Dream AU ~ Sans) #By the hands of obsession’ I will see all that i’ve longed for (Killer!AU ~ Sans) #As the heavens set fire. we're moving in a technicolour beat (Ink ~ draftink) #Keep the faith yeah' Cause you know that a life's never wasted (Ink x Nightmare ~ draftink) #draftink #//i had a thought and i ran with it #//night's in light mode by accident #//dream uses it on purpose because he's a heathen #//blue can't be verified because he dies to often #//and the boys are the local idiots

[katsubiatch]

Distant Shores-1

Summary: The heathens came to raid every year, stealing treasures and killing along the way. Your father was the King of Wessex and wanted to strike a deal with the heathens. The heathens and their ruthless numbers in exchange for some lands to farm, riches... and you. You are the Christian princess that is now to marry the Heathen King, a man that you're sure would rather kill you than marry you. This is going to be a miserable marriage.

A Viking!BakugouxReader fic.

Warnings: Arrange Marriage, general viking things, abusive father

They came every year, rowing to shore in their long boats with the intricately decorated dragon or serpent heads, shields of all colors decorating the sides. They would set up camp near the edges of the water, far enough to stay dry but not so far that they couldn't leave in a haste if need be. Violent in their tendencies and lacking the most simple of manners. Vulgar in their speech but carefree and happy. Men and women fighting side by side. They were tall, muscular, built like the gods they worshiped. Some with long hair that was braided back from their face, others with the sides shorn short and what was left was braided. Almost all had some sort of facial hair, minus the young ones desperately trying to grow it in, and if that was long enough it would be braided as well. Their clothing was not all together different from what you were used to. Perhaps not as ostentatious or gaudy as a he clothing around court. It was practical and useful, rather than just for show. Your father, the King of Wessex, was intrigued by these heathens as he called them. They had came ashore last year, destroying a few temples and killing all the holy men and women inside of them while stealing all the treasure inside, before taking their leave back to their homelands. It was interesting to say the least, though they had heard of these northmen before this was only the second time they had made camp on their shores. So In an effort of good faith your father decided to invite them to the castle, to talk he said. He wanted to strike a deal with them. He was going to offer a few things he thought they could not refuse. So he sent out a messenger to bring back their leaders for a feast. They spoke in a different tongue, looking at the women of court with lustful eyes as they ate. One man, who seemed to be their leader spoke up as he looked at the King. "What is it you have to offer me?" He spoke your language but it was choppy with the words out of place. You were surprised to find he knew the words at all. His hair was short on the sides, the rest braided back until it ended in a short pony tail. He had red eyes that you felt could pierce through anything or anyone. Scars littered his arms and bare chest, an axe and a sword at his hips. "Well, I am willing to offer some lands for you to do as you wish. Farm, build settlements. They are yours to do as you wish. I am also willing to offer you something more." The man said, grinning at the Viking earl. "I am offering my pure daughter, Y/N, to you." You. You were an offering. You always knew that your marriage would be arranged but you didn't think like this. To someone who had different customs, a different language, a different land someone who was different in almost every way possible. You wanted to throw up

The last thing that you thought your father was going to offer up was you. After all you were his only daughter and you figured that you would be married off to someone, a prince or lord in order for you father to gain some lands or troops for wars. Though you supposed this was kind of the same thing. The last thing that you expected was to be offered up to the Heathen King. You could feel his gaze on you, calculating red eyes watching your every move. You kept your eyes downcast, a habit from living in the castle for so long. You tried your hardest to hide the look of shock on your face, train it into a neutral expression.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get the Christian princess." One of the men next to the Heathen king spoke to him, in their language. One that you didn't understand.

"I have no need for a wife... but I could make it work. His proposition is interesting. I feel like he is going to double cross us."

The viking seemed to contemplate for a minute, hand rubbing over his chin as he looked you up and down before looking back at his men. "I will accept your offer, but I am surprised you would give up your virgin daughter to such a... heathen like myself." You could feel your face heat up at that, like they were talking about you without you even being there, despite the fact that you could feel the Vikings eyes on you the entire time.

"Well you are the man I need to make an alliance with right now." Your father stated, leaning back in his chair. "She will make a fine wife, I'm sure she can adjust to your ways." It became quite obvious to Bakugou that the king did not care about his daughter and what happened to her. He knew of the rumors that were spread about them. How they raped women and killed them when they no longer 'served their purpose.' He could tell you were scared but it seemed as though your father did not care.

"Then she will leave with us in the morning, we will be married under our Gods." Bakugou grunted, taking a long drink out of his cup, eyes never leaving your shaking frame. There was not much more that you could take, you didn't want to marry yet let alone a barbarian that you didn't even know. Someone who hardly spoke your language, who had different customs and Gods than you.

You excused yourself and made your way out of the hall, running as soon as you were out of sight. You couldn't slow your breaths, they were coming much too fast. You felt as though you were hyperventilating and needed to calm down. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would be okay. Once you made it to your room you had calmed down just a bit. You still did not want to marry this man. He looked cruel and would surely just have his way with you.

You sighed as you sat at your vanity, taking out the clips and pins that held your hair up in its complicated look. You supposed now you'd have to have it in the braids you saw on all the Viking women. You moved it back away from your face when you heard a knock on the door that caused your heart to race. You knew it was your father, sent to give you instructions that you didn't want to follow.

"Well, you embarrassed me out there. Running away like that, it's almost like you don't want to marry that brute." Your father hadn't waited for an answer to come in. "You have to make him happy, the last thing I want is them storming our shores because you're too stupid to please this man."

"Father I don't want to marry him. I do not know him and... and what if he kills me? You could marry me off to a prince from a neighboring land and they could offer your army to help if the viki,.." you started to say before you were struck against the cheek. The king of Wessex didn't like being told what to do, especially not by a woman.

"You will listen to what I have to say child, you will do as you are told, no questions. You will marry that brute and you will like it. Keep him pleased bed remind him of our treaty or I can send someone to remind you of your place." Your father threatened, pointing a finger in your face while you held your cheek and tears sprang out of your eyes. You had thought perhaps he had some shred of love left for you, however he just saw you as a bargaining chip.

That night you did not sleep well, tossing and turning. Dreaming about a pair of bright red eyes.

The next morning your maids had dressed your for the last time, putting you in a simple dress and cloak that wasn't too showy but was still made of fine fabrics that showed your status. A bruise had formed on your cheek from your fathers ring but that was something he didn't try to hide anymore. His daughter had a wild tongue according to him, and he needed to correct it. This wasn't the first time that he had struck you, but you were hopeful it would be the last. Unless of course your new husband was the same.

You were told you didn't need to pack anything, your husband to be would provide everything that you'd need. Least that is what they told your father. So down you went to where they were waiting, restless horses under even more restless men. They'd been giving plenty of gold and treasures to get them through the winter so they were eager to get back home. "Here she is, your future wife." The King said, presenting you to the Viking leader. You dared to look up at him, seeing the same eyes that had plagued your dreams. You watched his eyes flick around your face, lingering on your cheek before landing on your eyes. You soon looked away, not wanting to cause any new problems. It was the way you were raised, never look a man too long in the eyes. It was disrespectful. "She has some problems obeying but I am sure you can get her in line." The king winked befor pushing your towards the horse that Bakugou was on. He looked down at you before hoisting you on top of the beast to sit in front of him. Your face turned a bright pink, you'd never been this close to a man before, and his bare chest was burning into your back. You supposed that you'd have to get used to this if you were to be married soon.

Your father and future husband shared a few words with each other that you didn't pay attention to before you were off. The entire ride the few Vikings that had come along we're all talking in their own language, nothing that you understood but they seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and joking. You were lost in your own world, gently running your fingers over the horses mane before you heard the man behind you speak up. "What happened to your face?"

You weren't expecting it after how quiet he'd been for the entire ride so you jumped at the sudden noise behind you. You chewed on your cheek, deciding on an answer before landing on, "My father was correcting me. That is all." You weren't sure of the correct answer but that apparently wasn't it as you heard a grunt behind you and a small growl.

Before long you made it back to the Viking camp, which was mostly torn down at this point, bustling with activity. The boats were being packed, tents torn down and supplies being put up. You were in awe at how fast they worked, and were intrigued with the people and what they were doing. It was almost like a culture shock, you were used to the castle and this was something different. The man that was to be your husband helped you off your horse and gave you a warning to stay close. In the matter of an hour everything was packed up, you staying close to the man was he went around inspecting work and checking things before he lifted you onto a boat and climbed on himself.

The boat itself was amazing, all the little attentions to detail was beautiful, your fingers traced over the edge and the little designs there. You were again in awe, you could deal with this. If you could see little things of beauty like this then you could take it. Once set off to the sea your eyes were wide with wonder. You hadn't ever been this far before, you hadn't even been out on the water and it was breath taking. You couldn't get enough. That is... until you were sprayed in the face with the water. You coughed and shook your head, as the men on the boat laughed. You didn't complain however, you were still just in awe of the sights. What you didn't notice was a curious pair of eyes watching you from the other end of the boat, never leaving you as he watched you drink in everything. He was curious about you, that was for sure.

After getting hit with the ocean water you learned your lesson about staying too close to the edge. However as night time drew closer and the sun went below the horizon it was freezing and your cloak wasn't cutting it. However you didn't complain, instead just hugged it closer to yourself.

"It looks like your princess is going to freeze to death." One of the rowing men commented, looking over to Bakugou. "Might want to warm her up."

Bakugou heard this and in turn stood up with a grunt before walking over to you and unceremoniously dropped on of his furs onto your shoulders. You looked curiously up at him, but melted into the warmth it gave. "Thank you." You chattered out, cuddling close to the furs.

"Can't let you freeze, princess." Bakugou murmured as shuffled back over to where he came from. You watched him go and smiled softly, perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

#Viking Bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #katuski x reader #katsuki x y/n #Bakugou x reader #Distant Shores

[lailoken]

“In his book The Return of the Dead: the transparent veil of the pagan mind Lecouteux exposes us to older definitions of ‘body’ and ‘soul’ that are ultimately heathen in origin. He shows in detail how Christianity went about ‘de-corporealising’ the soul and making it into an immaterial thing. To our ancestors there was no such thing as an ‘immaterial’ thing. Everything had a kind of body; some of them were just denser and more easily perceived by humans than others.

Emma Wilby also touches on this when she speaks of the question posed by many witch-interrogators: ‘did you do all this in your body or in spirit?’ Although Christianity was long established in Scotland by this time, these ancient ideas seem to have lingered on up until at least the seventeenth century. Today we feel very clear about what is meant when someone says ‘body’ because we are in the habit of believing that we have only one. We also believe that whatever the ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ is, it is something that forms the natural opposite to the body and has less reality value.

If you can try to imagine that your mental universe does not have a concept of something that is ‘without substance’ then you will find it more possible to understand how the notion of ‘more than one body’ could exist. Not only were people able to send out a Double of themself, a less dense body that could travel great distances while the other body slept, but they were also able to expel an animal form from their body.

This notion of the animal form has come down to us in modern Traditional Witchcraft as the ‘fetchbeast’ or ‘familiar’. And for those who experienced the presence of one in the past, the animal was believed to be a tangible part of the body that could be expelled through the chest or the mouth of the sleeper and cause literal effects in the world, including being seen by others.

This close connection of the animal self to the person is particularly pronounced in ‘were animal’ phenomenon, where the person experiences an actual transformation of their physical body into the form of that animal. The real, though highly plastic animal form was able to impose the experience of itself over the experience of being a physical man. So that whilst a scientist would say that the man had not transformed into a beast in his body, a person at the time might have seen a ‘man-wolf.’

It is easy to see when we think about this, how the appreciation of something like a werewolf requires at least two people, or preferably a community. It requires a man who experiences his fetch-beast’s form over taking his man form, and it requires someone to perceive his beast form as altering the status and meaning of his man-form. Today we seldom have two such individuals in one space to be able to comment on these things that were understood parts of life for our predecessors.

So let us dig a little deeper to try and better understand the older way of seeing the body and soul and the Double that goes forth. In Eva Pocs book Between the Living and the Dead she describes how the ‘Double’ of a person was a believed to possess substance, a literal ‘second skin.’ As she puts it: ‘According to the documentation, the alter ego is imagined to be a physical reality. This means that it was not a soul but a second body; and while it was of a more spiritual nature, it also had physical reality.’

But not all visitations from the dead or travelling witches was a case of this ‘second skin’, there was also the notion of ‘the Shadow.’ The term ‘Shadow’ was in the past applied to the soul that lives on after death and can become detached from the body dreams or after death. Some records on witchcraft are unusually precise about what part of the spiritual complex of a person they are referring to. In one case a woman went into the room ‘and there she could not be experienced in her person, she just walked as a Shadow.’ Or: ‘Not Mrs Moricz herself, but her image walked with me as a Shadow.’

So when it is claimed that something happened ‘in the body before the eyes’ this may often refer to the second skin that was believed to be tangible. Not all dead people or all sleepers who roamed during their dreams seem to have possessed this second skin or perhaps to have known how to detach it from their other body. The Skin was often given to the witch by a spirit, such as in the case of the gift of an animal form that a witch may henceforth project her Shadow into and go forth.

The revenant (a potent type of ghost) also had this corporeality, something derived subtly from its corpse, which was deactivated if the dead body was destroyed or dismembered. As it was not unusual for the medieval and post medieval person to believe in Shadows and the real occurrence of dreamed events (more on this below) we are hitting upon a crucial point here. This ‘second skin’ that belonged to the witch, either in the form of a Double of themselves or an animal form, is one of the things that makes the difference between a witches nocturnal adventures and those of the ordinary dreamer. The ordinary dreamer goes forth in Shadow form, something that is generally invisible but may sometimes be perceived by those with The Sight, whereas the witch is able to project the Shadow into forms, as it testified to by the old term ‘dressed in forms.’

The expression ‘turnskin’ makes a lot of sense when one considers that to our forebears this meant the literal donning of another secret Skin. It also helps us to make sense of the notion of witches appearing in ‘someone else’s form’ or ‘riding’ them. We know revenants were able to use some subtle part of the corpse to send forth a second skin and that this only worked so long as the corpse remained intact. So we can deduce that all humans have such things but that only some humans have the gift of separating it out from the other body during life. We can deduce this because of the large amount of evidence to suggest that witches often stole or borrowed other people’s ‘Skins’ to get about the countryside disguised as them. This may have been simply for revenge or to implicate somebody else other than themselves but the tiring effects of being ‘hag ridden’ suggest another purpose behind this ‘skin taking.’ It is likely that sending forth the second skin requires a large power output from the witch and that, therefore, to send the Shadow out to occupy someone else’s and use their vitality instead has its advantages. To illustrate this I will present a detailed folkloric account of a witch attempting to ‘ride’ a man. The story was originally recorded in Appalachian dialect but I’ve rendered it in standard English:

‘I’m doubting if anyone can help me now. But I’m telling you this because when I die, I want you to know what killed me. Now, you know I never believed in witches but I’m afraid a witch is going to make a ghost of me. Every night of my life for the past three months, a witch has come through the keyhole [typical for a Shadow] to my bedroom. She changes me into a horse and puts a bridle on me and leads me outside. Then, she puts her witch saddle on my neck, plaits my mane into stirrups, jumps on my neck and rides as hard as she can till daylight. Then she brings me back to bed all petered out and there’s nothing I can do about it.’

This concept of being ‘hag ridden’ is in fact a form of possession, of a living person by a living person and the notion of riding the second skin allows us to explain the difference between standard dreams and ‘big dreams.’ We all know that there are some dreams that we have which seem quite insubstantial; our forebears would say that these dreams were true but that we only attended in our ‘Shadow.’ But those of us who feel called to witchcraft have often had experiences, open eyed experiences, lucid dreams or visions where we feel that we saw with, or were still in, our body. The ‘second skin’ separating from the physical skin and becoming filled with the Shadow, something that typically feels ‘very real’, can often explain these experiences of doing seemingly impossible things. It appears, given that the Shadow of a witch is attested over and over again to inhabiting the ‘Skin’ of other people, that the Shadow is the sentient part and the ‘Skin’ a kind of vessel.”

—

A Deed Without a Name:

Unearthing the Legacy of Traditional Witchcraft

by Lee Morgan

#a deed without a name #lee Morgan #witchcraft #traditional withcraft #fetch beast #turnskin #soul

[maria-scribbles]

cocoa

sick of hearing his parents fight day after day, reggie goes to the one person who knows exactly what he's going through: the pretty violinist who lives next door.

fandom: julie and the phantoms

ship: alive!reggie x reader

word count: 1.5k+

featuring: swearing (as always), fighting, allusion to an abusive relationship, general sadness, mention of a family member’s death

a/n: day 2 of my holiday challenge: hot chocolate! this is kind of depressing and i'm sorry, sad!reggie was stuck in my head and he wouldn't leave until i wrote this but it has kind of a hopeful ending tho so i guess that counts for something? this is also my first time writing for this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. as usual, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1994

They were fighting again. It was the same old story: his dad being an ass on purpose, his mom taking the bait, wash, rinse, repeat. Their shouts rang harshly throughout the house, gloomy and miserable despite the cheerful decorations strung up in every room and the massive Christmas tree downstairs, dressed in its festive best and looking like it came straight out of a seasonal catalog.

Reggie had gone to them at the beginning of the month, begging them not to fight, please; his everyday life was already ruined by their screaming matches and the only thing he wanted for Christmas was some peace, quiet and civility to celebrate his favorite holiday. His father had pretended not to hear his son's pleas, ignoring him completely like he always did while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We'll try, honey." She'd said and he knew it was a lie. His mother always lied, his father always threw a plate at her head, Reggie always wished he had the courage to run away for good, like Luke did. But he wasn't Luke, he never would be, and he just didn't have it in him to leave them, even though he was the one who came out worse for wear after each fight.

The distant shatter of ceramic drifting up the stairs was his cue to go until things cooled down again -he never stuck around after the first dish got thrown, not anymore, the scar on his arm the perfect reminder why- and so he jimmied open the window of his room and climbed down the trellis into the salty air, the crashing waves of the Pacific covering his escape like a blanket.

(He could've stormed down the stairs and slammed the door behind him and his parents still wouldn't have noticed he left but something about sneaking out and risking a broken bone made him feel alive, the same rush he felt when he was on stage, bass humming in his hands, performing alongside his bandmates and knowing they felt it, too.)

Even outside, the echoes of his parents' angry voices still rang in his ears, haunting him all the way to the house next door, its sparkling lights shining brightly and guiding him through the darkening night like a beacon. The driveway sat empty, sans for one lone bicycle haphazardly lying on its side in front of the garage and he carefully propped it up on its kickstand before climbing the stairs to the front porch.

The faint sound of a slow, somber violin came to a stop as he knocked on the door, followed by a quiet, familiar voice Reggie knew like the back of his hand.

"It's open."

He found Y/N alone on the couch, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the strings of the violin on her lap and she glanced up at the tap of his boots on the hardwood floor, face brightening the slightest bit at the sight of her friend rounding the corner into the living room. 

The girl didn't speak as she gently placed the instrument aside and stood, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck to draw him into a crushing hug. His own arms wrapped around her waist and held her just as tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, and the warm vanilla scent of her soft hair tickling his nose helped calm the storm in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Reg." Her voice was low and soothing in his ear and he didn't know how he could possibly hold her any tighter than he already was but he managed as he replied, "I'm sorry, too."

While his parents fought like wildfire, explosive and loud and raging with the wrong type of passion, hers were like a deep freeze, icy and cold and desolate in the worst possible way. Too many times Y/N was left to her own devices, all alone in an empty house with her thoughts and a violin her only company (at least they had given her that, the gift of music and a beautiful, expensive instrument to prove their love was real, albeit superficial).

It was some time later before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and brushed a wayward strand of his dark hair back from his forehead with one calloused finger. "Okay, pity party's over. It's almost Christmas and we're not spending it being sad about shitty parents. Deal?"

She held out her pinky with one eyebrow raised expectantly and grinned when he nodded and hooked his pinky around hers. Reggie loved really liked that about her, the way she could just make all the heartache and pain and disappointment vanish from his mind like magic and replace them with thoughts of her and her sunny smile, her big heart, her touch that made the very blood in his veins spark like lightning. Y/N was his bright spot, his safe haven, and while Luke, Alex, and Bobby knew what he was going through, they just didn't understand like she did (they had their own problems to deal with, anyway, so he couldn't blame them).

"Good, now come on," She wrapped the rest of her fingers around his hand and started tugging him down the hall to the kitchen. "You're helping me make hot chocolate."

"Peppermint?" He asked, smiling when she glanced up at him with an offended look on her face.

"Duh. Only a heathen would make it without peppermint, Reginald."

Another thing he liked about her: she never did anything halfway; half-assing things, taking the easy way out, cutting corners just wasn't her style. It even applied to hot chocolate apparently, as he watched her flutter around the kitchen with practiced ease -heating milk and cream on the stove, measuring sugar and chocolate, slowly adding drops of peppermint oil- and despite her saying he was going to help, the only thing he got to do was crush some candy canes. Not that he minded, though, because while his hands could play bass like no one's business, they were a total disaster when it came to cooking and he knew Y/N was well aware of that fact, considering it took a week for the burnt popcorn smell to fade from her microwave the last time he tried. 

The violinist smiled and proudly handed him the finished drink, whipped cream piled high and candy cane bits almost overflowing from the edge of a red mug. "This is my grandma's recipe," She said, one hand holding a purple mug for herself and the other reaching to grab onto his wrist and pull him out the front door. "She'd always make it when she came to visit for the holidays and we'd sit out on the porch and watch the ocean, each and every year." 

"She was the best," Reggie said as the two sat together on the porch swing, his right side flush against her left. "I still have dreams about her cookies and wake up drooling."

The cool ocean breeze ruffled Y/N's hair and carried her laugh off down the beach. "She loved you, you know that? She was always talking about 'that nice boy next door.' Pretty sure she wanted us to get married."

"I loved her, too." He took a sip of his drink in an attempt to hide the blush that was taking over his entire face. "And we still have time for the whole marriage thing."

"I'm still waiting for my ring." She laughed again before looking down at the mug in her hands, voice becoming quiet as she replied, "I really miss her. She was the only person in my family who actually cared about me 'cause my parents sure as hell don't."

He wanted to tell her she was wrong but he knew it'd be a lie and he never did that, refusing to become a pathological liar like his mother, so instead he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "Hey, no more talk about shitty parents, remember?"

"Sorry, I know," She took a long sip of her cocoa, then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I just feel alone sometimes when you're not around. I mean, you have your band and I always had my grandma to talk to but now she's gone and I'm kind of...lost."

"You have the band, too, Y/N! Alex and Luke love you and Bobby, well, he's Bobby. No one really knows what goes on in that guy's head but I know he thinks you're cool. We all do, especially me, and you should know you're never alone 'cause you'll always have us."

The girl abruptly sat up and grabbed the mug from Reggie's hand before he could blink and placed it alongside her own on the floor, then threw her arms around his neck in another one of her fierce hugs.

"Has anyone told you how fucking amazing you are?" 

"You just did." He buried his blushing face in her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist once again. "I'm serious, Y/N. You'll always have me."

"And you'll always have me, Reg. No matter what."

And as they sat there on the porch swing, wrapped in each other's arms, Reggie knew as long as he had Y/N in his life, things were gonna be okay.

#obxmermaidholiday #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp imagine #reggie jatp #reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #jatp fic

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving) 

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request  by @bangtaened-army​ turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  "I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying. 

    "You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook. 

   "I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him.  "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

    You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school.  "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone. 

    Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

   "Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would. 

    "Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels. 

     However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

     "You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

    Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

    The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her." 

    The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or  I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

     "Will do. Thanks." 

    "I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

    "Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. " 

  Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

     You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

  "Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

   "Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

    You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car.  His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

    You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

   “And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

   “Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

     As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end.  Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

   It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable 

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free.  You reach out to comb your fingers through it. 

   “Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

      Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

     You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

     Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago.  Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately. 

    Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up.  You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all.  “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room. 

   You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

     Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

    Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.” 

    Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

    “No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

    “I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

    Jimin murmurs something about  ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

   “Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

   Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face.  "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

  You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

   “Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

    Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

----- 

   Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast. 

     Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says. 

   Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit. 

     "I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly. 

   The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

     You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren. 

    Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

    "You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

   Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less.  "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face. 

   You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

    "I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off. 

   "Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

  Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

   The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff.  "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

    "Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature,  Jimin was a mama's boy.

   "I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America. 

  "I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it  adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

    You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way. 

    You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

    Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

   "Oh don't try to guilt trip me,  Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

    Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

    “Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

  "I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

   "You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok,  I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot. 

   Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

 "What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture. 

   You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

     Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

   You froze. "What?"

 "I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged. 

   "B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!" 

   A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

   The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!" 

     Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

       You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight.  When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?” 

       It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else.  No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

     At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

 “Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”  

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words.  You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

       You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction.  He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town  empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.” 

 Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

 However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with. 

  “Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

 Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-” 

   “I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

    "I'm sorry…" 

     "You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

   "Oh."  You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

   Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

       ‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

   Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought  one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life.  “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

    “You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

   “Okay. I believe you.” 

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

 Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

   You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

  If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

  Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

  You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

         Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

     “Anything you want princess. Anything you want.” 

----------------------------------------------

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind. 

    Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

    “Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

  Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

 Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

   “Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look.  Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

    You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

    “I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

  Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

     “Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

    “Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

      Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

 He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone.   "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

    "Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist. 

  "Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down. 

     "Okay." You whisper. 

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

     A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them,  before finally moving to touch them.  He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

      "Trust me, I know.  If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself. 

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

    "I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

     "Never said I didn't.  In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs.  The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

    That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding. 

    Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it. 

    "You like that?"  He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

    "Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace. 

   "Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

       "More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

   Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed.  This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

    "Please, please, I'm so close."  You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

   "That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand.  With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you. 

     Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his. 

        Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a  manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing. 

    Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

   This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

    Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it. 

     Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

     Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum.  The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

    "So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner. 

   You  swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.  

  “Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair. 

    You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

  Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

       Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

     His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

  You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

      “Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll  have to wait until next.”

    “You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

    --------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe  hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post. 

    “You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

   For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette. 

    “Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

   “I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

   Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

    “Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

   This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

      You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

    “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up. 

     You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied. 

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

  That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over. 

     His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

     "I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

   "You won't regret it."  Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

   You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure.  Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time.  "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles. 

  Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm. 

  He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

   You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

  "Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door. 

    You blink registering what he said.  "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

 He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

    Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

   "A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

     Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

    "You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

   "How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

     "Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!"  You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses. 

     Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

  "I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

--------------

Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman​ for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.

#bts #BTS jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #sunny writes #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

[expired-monster-craft-smp]

Vibes Dream SMP members give off (in my opinion)

Dream

Barked at people in high school ironically but it became unironic real quick

Can’t cook very well but is good with a knife, especially at a fast pace

One of those kids who either purposely spells the first word wrong in a spelling bee to just be done with it right away or tries the hardest and manages to win (there is no inbetween for this heathen)

Bites ice cream with his teeth

Has snorted pixie stix far too many times and sneezed blue after each time

Eats bananas with the peels

Wears mismatched socks

Has taken a bite out of a pool noodle because he liked the texture and impulsively bit it (ADHD things✨😌)

Walks around looking extremely high but he’s just spacin out and stuck in his head

Dreams (lmao) in Minecraft and video games in general

Will flirt with anything that moves but has no idea how to respond to compliments

Makes fun of himself first before anyone else can

Has eaten an orange peel and it wasn’t that bad in his humble opinion

Wears khaki shorts

Eats the wax part of the baby bell cheese

Doesn’t actually know what genre his music taste is cause he vibes to everything

Georgenotfound

Picks at the skin on his lip when it’s dry so it bleeds and he tries not to give in by licking his lips often enough to the point where it became a habit

Wears velcro shoes because he doesn’t feel like tying them (he knows how, he just doesn’t wanna do it)

Eats peanut butter straight from the jar

Makes that disgusting “ants on a log” thing (celery stick filled with peanut butter topped with a row of raisins)

Can’t drink milk plain, it’s gotta have some sort of flavour

Can draw a perfect straight line but his circles look Terrible

Eats cheez-its like cereal without milk

Loves making little noises so much like he walks around his house doin chores and he’s just goin “memememenownownwnkwkshskshkshskhs”

Hates wearing socks

Coloured his tongue with highlighters because they’re non-toxic

Constantly tapping his feet and hands to a song/beat playing in his head

I can’t imagine this man using a bike of any sort, so Imma say he doesn’t know how

Can’t be licked by dogs because he’s used to being licked by his cat so it makes him uncomfortable

Can actually sing pretty well but gets real nervous in front of people so he fucks it up

Sapnap

No idea how to cook anything other than Mac and cheese please help this man

Meows at cats because he wants to confuse them and laughs Way too hard when he does (his laugh is like sunshine so I’ll allow it)

Would be fantastic at braiding hair Idk why

Gives the BEST fuckin hugs EVER

When singing, he makes noises for the instrumental parts too

Wanted to play the drums at one point

Really likes pit bulls but he’s more of a cat person so he loves them from afar

Only vaguely knows how to shave his face properly without hurting himself

Opportunities for him come up out of pure luck but mans is skilled for them so it works out well almost Always

Used to or currently has a skateboard and isn’t too bad

ALWAYS has bruises appearing everywhere for no reason, he doesn’t even know where 90% of them are from

Calls his friends twinks to jokingly bully them and gets away with it because he himself is not a twink

Gets sudden bursts of energy in the middle of the night and just shimmies around a bit to try and deal with it

Favours spearmint over peppermint

Arsonist

Banned from three (3) Dave & Busters in Texas

Badboyhalo

Washes his hands after doing literally anything

Likes the bird exhibits at the zoo (specifically the penguins)

Very good at cooking, best at soups and stews

If he painted his nails they would definitely be a baby blue

Overthinks very simple things and it makes him look less smart than he actually is

Drinks tap water

Probably prefers whiskey over beer

Knows how to tap dance a bit

Surprisingly good at taking and handling shots

Steady hands

Adds extra chocolate to hot chocolate

Plays sudoku and is really really good at it (only uses pen when he plays)

Everytime he sees a Himalayan salt lamp he NEEDS to lick it despite knowing it’s very salty and he’ll pull a face afterwards

Not great at Rock Paper Scissors

Wears sunglasses inside for no reason at all, he just,,,Does

Still has a stuffed animal from childhood perched on his bed

Probably tried his hand at archery

Tommyinnit

He has no idea how to use a baby voice on children or animals, so he just talks to them normally

Wears socks to bed

His fingers are double jointed

Always starts twitching if he stays still for too long because he’s gotta move around

His shoes and have different laces and it bothers everyone but himself

Doodles on himself in class when he’s bored or not paying attention

Has really good hearing, both with pitch and volume

Can’t eat tomato’s by themselves, it’s either gotta be in sauce form or with something else

FUCKING LOVES STRING CHEESE

Terrible handwriting

Favourite part of a slice of bread is the crust

Wants to paint his nails black to be cool and edgy but his hands are far from steady and he has no clue how to paint nails

Pretty affectionate with close friends (like Tubbo and Wilbur) off stream/camera

He likes pears for some reason

Wilbur Soot

Is constantly having to decide between leaving his hair as is or shaving all of it off

He also thinks about adding some colour but never actually does

Most tea is gross to him

Everytime he puts a breath mint thats circular in his mouth, he pretends it’s a pill and he’s taking drugs because he thinks that’s funny

He does that vacant state as a joke but that really what he looks like when he’s spacing out

Likes to aggressively flirt with his male friends but if his female friends flirt with him, he gets a bit flustered

Has probably accidentally swallowed a guitar pick

Once drank two entire jars of pickle juice

Bonks his head on anything and everything

He has broken a pair of glasses by walking face first into a pole outside

Thinks kinetic sand is fun

Has passionate arguments with others about trivial and random topics like chicken feet

Can open a beer bottle with his teeth

Would accidentally pop and swallow a bracket if he had braces

Tubbo

Hates sharp cheddar cheese

Everytime he learns a new word it’s in every sentence he says for the next week or so

Ate candle wax for a dare once

Doesn’t know how to tie a tie and will probably never learn

Wanted to do ballet at one point but decided not to

He has eaten multiple flowers for absolutely no reason other than wanting to know how they taste

Starts vibrating if he’s too excited

Used to bite his nails

ABSOLUTELY DESPISES MUSTARD

Has eaten paper and says it doesn’t taste that bad

Enjoys telling his friends how much they mean to him (this has resulted in Tommy and Wilbur crying on a few seperate occasions)

Spaces out a lot and doesn’t often pay attention to his surroundings

Gets lost inside of Best Buy’s

Likes s’mores but doesn’t properly understand how to make them

Technoblade

Learned to cook purely out of spite and found it’s actually pretty fun

Constantly getting smacked in the face by trees when walking outside

Really likes apple pie

Everytime he looks at potatoes he thinks of all the hours he spent trying to win the potato war

Starts things as a joke and gets too into it

Doesn’t like the taste of most energy drinks

Has rubbed salt and lemon juice into an open wound to just,,see how it felt (he did it once and Hated it but did it again because he forgot what it felt like)

Sometimes hates how quiet he is because everyone he knows is loud and talks over him

Despite how he is portrayed in the Dream SMP, he is extremely loyal to his friends and would kill for them

Over seasons his food because he can’t taste it otherwise

Really good balance

Doesn’t like to wear bright colours, but still enjoys wearing colours

Good at knitting

Quackity

Actually fairly quiet when off camera

Will accidentally use Spanish grammar while speaking English sometimes

Country music confuses him

Doesn’t really like kids but they really like him

Can’t dance

Hardest drugs he’s ever done is second hand smoke from a cigarette and children’s Tylenol

His favourite jolly ranchers are the red and blue ones

He uses lighters as fidget toys basically

Will have a breakdown, take a bubble bath, and call himself the self care king

Dehydrated

Wants a pet rat but he already has a cat and doesn’t wanna risk anything

Constantly questions why his main source of income is playing Minecraft with two 16 year olds

Karl Jacobs

Probably ate a spider once

Would wear those socks that are like gloves for you feet where it separates all the toes

Eats ravioli straight from the can, cold

Can answer an incredibly complex math equation fairly easily but will stumble over 12x11

Loves kids so much and speaks to them in a soft voice

Tried making ramen in a coffee pot and broke it

Drinks 2 monster energy drinks a day on average

Likes to open walnuts with his teeth but doesn’t actually eat them

The embodiment of that one John Maulany joke where he says you could spill soup in his lap and HE’D apologize to YOU

Loves physical affection so so much!!!!

If he moves his wrists in a certain way, they pop Really Loudly

Fantastic at making cookies

Fundy

Lowkey actually a furry but more on like, a cat boy level than fursuit level

Drives a Honda Civic

Likes ABBA

Adds parsley to almost anything he makes food-wise

Loves garlic bread so much, he’d commit a federal crime for it

Middle child vibes

Decent at skiing

Good at singing but isn’t terribly confident

Seems responsible at first glance but in reality he’s pretty chaotic and childish

Bad at spelling

Always cuts his nails way too short so they always feel weird/hurt

Likes bracelets and rings

Thinks pastel colours slap

JSchlatt

Despite the character he plays, he’s actually really sweet

He’s genuinely that cryptic off camera as he is on camera

Can cook but chooses not to most of the time

Would probably say “what pussy size you wear” to anyone who asks him to buy pads

Not actually as intimidating as he appears to be

Lowkey would fight a child

Shuts down when someone compliments him, often using aggression as a front because holy shit they just called him handsome and kind what the Fuck-

Jokingly says his license is suspended but in all actuality he never got his license in the first place

He has two (2) extra teeth but they don’t need to be removed so he kept them

Has a stick n poke of a stickman on his ankle he got in high school

Likes physics

This is already very long, and I still plan on adding more.

#dream #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #mcyt fandom #dream mcyt #mcyt memes #sapnap mcyt #george mcyt #mcytumblr #vibes #more later #i plan on doing every member #don’t worry guys #dream team #dream smp #mcyt #tommy and tubbo #tommy mcyt #tubbo #wilbur soot #tommy and wilbur #wilbur soot mcyt #dreamnotfound #jschlatt #schlatt #quakity #quackity #Technoblade #technoblade mcyt

[forbidden-sorcery]

Some wights are local and known only to the people who live in a specific area. To many of today’s heathens, ‘land wight’ now refers to any nature being, and they merge into the elves. The spirits I met on Hamarinn were probably some kind of land wight, though called elves for the purpose of the tourist map; and it is noteworthy that what it occurred to me to offer them in return for no mischief was respect. These wights do not appear in the great stories of the Eddas. Jörmundur Ingi Hansen, head of the Ásatrúarmenn in Iceland at the time I was there, spoke to me of this when I interviewed him for academic research. He said it was very difficult to speak of land wights ‘in rational terms, because they belong to a different part of the brain, they belong to a different way of thinking’.                 Indeed, these wights and others lie outside of the perception that most of us have of the everyday world we inhabit. But they can be seen or experienced, in dreams, trance and shamanic journeys. At times children see them. Some adults retain this ability; others experience trance visions, or deliberately attempt shamanistic journeys with the goal of communication with these wights. Sometimes they can be met with in the countryside – if we can sufficiently pay attention to them through altering our consciousness to hear or see them.

Jenny Blain - Wights and Ancestors: Heathenism in a Living Landscape

#Jenny Blain

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Character headcanons

Dionysus:

He loves anything with any level of alcohol in it and his favorite is obviously wine. However, because of his godly abilities, he functions the in the same way a saltwater fish wood if you placed it in a tank of freshwater. only instead of dying instantly, he just slowly loses his powers and becomes dangerously close to being a mortal. So he usually keeps a supply of wine with him at all costs, and it really doesn't have to be his own wine, it could be any form of alcoholic beverage as long as he consumes it.

He has a mane of curly thick dark hair that accidentally acts like a pocket dimension. he can store something in there, completely forget it and then when he remembers it he can take it out with ease. nobody really cares about how he's able to do this except Athena, she hates it when Dionysus does this and it confounds her to no end, nobody really knows why she hates it but it's speculated that she just doesn't like his chaotic nature.

True to his wild natural look, he actually has two pairs of horns; curled ram horns and long bull horns. He has no memory of it he purposefully grew these horns himself or they may have resulted in his consumption of his wine....but he doesn't care find it to be more of an excuse to adorn his head with more interesting things he finds.

He doesn't have eccentric tastes per se but he does enjoy interesting looking jewelry, placing random objects in his hair and like his brother Apollo enjoys wearing whatever the hell he wants to wear. It doesn't matter if it's a woman's dress or overly ornate armor for no other purpose than to just wear it. The function of the clothing does not concern him, as long as it looks nice on him.

He's very simple god....in the same way your stoner friend is simple, he's is early philosophical for a guy has type and often times you'll see him do weird things that in reality actually have some serious purpose. For example you would pile small stones to form a tower only to have accidentally created the druidic tradition of establishing a location. Another good example would be him having decompulsive need to pile pine cones, according to him he's still trying to figure out what would be the purpose of this but he found out that pine cones are extremely flammable thus perfect as kindling.

He consistently smells of merlot and sweat, it's not that he isn't clean, it's just that with his consistent consumption of his own wine, he doesn't sweat normally anymore... He literally sweats wine thus occasionally giving his skin a pinkish tan hue occasionally, when he bathes his skin goes back to a normal olive-ish tan.

Although he's extremely lazy in some cases, people wipl often mistake him for being soft or weak, it has been noted that in terms of strength he has rivaled both Aries and Heracles in some bizarre manner. nobody really knows if this could have anything to do with his previous incarnation of being a very powerful entity of chaos or if it's just his god-given abilities.

Unlike his fellow gods, he loves being around mortals. He enjoys their nuanced lives and daily endeavors and tries his very best to keep everyone happy.

He's primarily a "good vibes" man 95% of the time and tries to keep the peace, but that doesn't stop him from either justifyingly getting angry or sitting back and watch the drama unfold without his assistant. You also kick your ass and he will do it again if he needs to.

His primary circle of friends/family are Apollo, Hermes, Heracles, Hypnos, Artemis, several nyphs and satyrs, Kale (Delphi's only competent broker/financial expert) and whom ever he can befriend. His secondary basically consists of everyone else whom I've not mentioned.

His wine can actually physically change you with prolonged consumption but with varying results. Many of his leopards for example, have obtained a pinkish, purple hue from drinking the wine dionysus has made for them especially, prolonging their life spans, raising their IQs a little and making them more docile.

On the topic of wine, Dionysus has made several different wines with different properties. He's made wine that acts very closely to a truth serum, a wine that can heal/cure nearly everything, a wine specifically for bacchanals and festivals, wine that actually doesn't effect small kids (for safety reasons) and a wine that can do miscellaneous things.

He's into everything in terms of entertainment, he's surprisingly very cultured in spite of his perceived persona as "the god of drunkards and heathens". So in truth there's never a dull moment with him.

The best to describe him is "a semi-chaotic force of existential calm". He's so chill about so many things, one can mistake this for being aloof or uncaring, but don't worry he's got your back.

He has a list of "dislikes"; he recently has a burning dislike of Romans, drinking water, entitled rude people (because you can be entitled but ultimately unaware of it in an ignorant way), having to do the same task over and over again, being sober (because he believes being drunk keeps something inside him at bay) and frogs....he finds frog to be extremely unreasonable in conversation.

In a more sensual sense, he's up for everything asking as it's not painful or would end in a possible bad way. This explains why he tries his best to stay away from Aphrodite as much as he can help himself.

He doesn't hate Ares, he just finds Ares to be a little too aggressive when it comes to the concept of fun.

He has 0 idea about the existence of some older members of the family, such as Eris for example. He literally has no idea he's not the only agent of chaos in Greece.

He had formed a secret "Drunkard's Society", it consists of other deities from around the world whose specialties occasionally revolve around making alcoholic beverages... if anyone asks yes Jesus (yes he's canon in greek-Bros as the son of "A God" of which no one really knows who) is part of the club by default for some reason sine he used his abilities to make wine. There's very little rules for the club, the only rule is that if possible, bring drinks.

Although he primarily is Pansexual, he is in an very open marriage with Ariadne. Being his only functional braincell, Ariadne is the one who keeps him grounded when making certain decisions, she pretty much completes him in the sense of companionship. She's also pretty compatible with his personality given her upbringing, in spite of her upbringing as a royal, she's always been more carefree and empathetic with her subjects. Plus she doesn't object to most of what Dionysus does but she knows when to step in as his partner on more serious matters. Deep down, Dionysus believes that Ariadne is the second reason why he's still alive. His first being "because my dad mpreg'ed me into existence".

He may or may not be aware of his previous incarnations, he gets weird dreams that feels very violent and feverish at times of a stress filled day. He knows he isn't like the other Olympic gods in many ways.

His seat in Olympia was gifted to him by his aunt Hestia. Hestia, being the oldest child of "The Big 6", felt it was time for her to "retire" from being part of the Olympic gods, no one really understood why she made this decision but she was extremely happy to give the seat dionysus as she personally felt he had a "certain spark" that felt was appropriate as her successor. He too, has no idea why he was given this gift but he assumes that if Hestia felt it was appropriate than it was.

Out of all the olympians, he has made friends with the most deities outside of Greece, second place would be Hermes and third would be Ares.

Apollo

Unlike dionysus, he's extremely calculative, considerably well sorted and more formal. There's always a visible method to what he does and everything has a scientific explanation, in contrast to dionysus's unpredictable meme energy.

He has a bizzarly faire complexion with literally no flaws and his skin almost glows with warmth. His blond hair has been known to also glow depending on the light. His eye color is the same shade as the sky with white pupils, but when it's night time his usually white pupil turns into the normal black, representing the passing of the daytime. The same thing happens to Artemis.

Being the god of the arts and sciences, he loves to educate people. Delos (his home island) is home to one of the best schools of thought in all of Greece.

His first passion of playing the lyre and it still is to this day, if he wasn't the god of the sun, he'd be the god of music.

He puts this persona of "the perfect guy" to mostly everyone he knows, with the exception of Hermes and Dionysus who pretty much know he's a big sensitive softy.

He's an extremely beautiful man with perfect mesomorphic body. He has very gentle mannerisms with a contrasting burning and passionate reaction to anything that could anger him. Pretty much, he's the embodiment of the sun, beautiful, giving, warm but he will burn you.

His personal tastes are similar to dionysus's in terms of preference of clothing. Anything goes and when he looks fashionable in anything, he especially loves wearing lose dresses because he feels the most comfortable in it. He barely sees a reason to assume clothing can be specific to gender norms, as long as it does its function, it suits him pretty well. To him, clothing is clothing.

He's one of the best chariot riders in Olympus, rivalling Triton and occasionally Hades.

He's pan/bisexual to put it best, but he seems to have an easier time forming lasting relationships with men than he does with his female relationships, as evident his mythos. He's not very sure why, and he desires to get better at it considering he actually has the most children in the pantheon.

He's an extremely loving father to his offspring, he's taught most of his children in the ways of art and sciences but is always surprised to see them flourish with their own specific passions and talents.

He thought Orpheus would be the son who's take his place if anything were to happen to him....until he was killed and sent to the underworld. Apollo still mourns for his son's death and doesn't blame Dionysus or his maenads. He believed that Orpheus's was too powerful, even for him

He chooses his lovers, not the other way around. It's an unfortunate trait he inherited from Zeus and it probably is the main factor in why he has such a difficult time with having female companions.

He literally knows about almost everything on almost every subject.

Like Ariadne, he's Dionysus's other braincell. Because of this, the two seem to have an ongoing battle of ideologies that grew into an extremely friendly rivalry to see who can get the most apostles and followers. There's no competitive energy between them, it just feels like a huge game to them.

His circle of friends oddly enough don't stop at Hermes and Dionysus, along with Artemis, his lovers and his muses, it seems Apollo has a surprisingly small circle of friends out of the "the bois". Inspite of his more intellectual relationship with Athena as a fellow scholar and "thinking person", he doesn't necessarily consider her an ally. In fact he actually has a very interesting list of possible foes that are mostly other members of the family. His number one rival however seems to be Eros, who has repeatedly caused him grief in the past, he's probably the second factor as to why he has such a complicated relationship with female companions.

He's a very accommodated individual, it baffles him till this day as to why his twin finds more comfort being in the outdoors than in Olympus, seeing how both of them were raised the same way. He doesn't like being dirty or getting too dirty, he's a bit if an introvert most of the time.

His favorite foods is anything grown under the sun. The only thing "fermented in the dark" he would ever consume is Dionysus's wine, which outside of ambrosia, is the only drink he trusts other than his own.

It may not look like it but he's actually a serious fighter. Especially loves using his bow and arrow and trains alongside with his twin sister.

Give me look pretty, but he will still kick your ass if you deserve it.... Or not he could just simply incinerate you out of existence. In terms of powers, out of the trio he actually does overpower them through natural force than anything.

His Muse's basically are a mixture between his group of female friends and essentially sisters by covenant. He's only had one relationship with one of the muses but outside of that he has NEVER once thought of any of them as calcubines. He will retaliate if anyone assumes otherwise, the reason being is because he would never harm or have any intentions of hurting any of his muses. They see him as a brotherly figure and teacher of the arts, NOT as a master.

Hermes

He's the one god in the family who's decided to make his life a lot more harder by having more hats to wear. He ironically likes it because it always makes him feel "closer to normal".

He's the hardest working of the trio, the only other individuals who works as hard as him is Hestia, Hephaestus and Hades.

Simultaneously, he loves lounging around eating his favorite snack, high energy foods. Bread, surgery fruits, nuts, anything to use to help his caloric intake for his long days of running.

He's literally fast enough to travel forward and back in time. At first, he was just found it strange when he would mention someone, it would be either in past tense or no body would have known who they were. After he found out that he was literally running forwards and back in time, he's been carefully pacing himself.

His favorite thing to do is observe anything really, especially loves seeing what happens after he effects something. For example, he could miss place a cup for no reason other than to see what will happen next.

Although being older than Dionysus, he's the shortest and "youngest looking" of the trio. His youthful complexion however has a dismal purpose. He notices that mortals find him a lot more approachable then the other gods. He primarily looks like a young lab in between the ages of 19 in comparison to Apollo's late 20 something and Dionysus's mid 20 something with a positive youthful disposition, the reason why is because in his "real" form, he actually is taller, pushing to late 20's to early 30's, has a little bit of facial hair, facially stern looking face of some hardened by life and overall "intimidating", not in an Ares sort of way....more like as if you can't really read what's on his mind. This may actually have something to do with the fact his speed could have actually been something he inherited from grandfather, Chronos. He hates his original body and does everything in his power to avoid showing even Apollo and Dionysus this version of himself.

He bisexual with a preference for women. He loves to experiment but that's when he gets in the most trouble. A great example would be the primary reason why his sort of least favorite son, Pan, is the way he is.... because he actually mated with a woman....in the form of a goat, since then, he has had to keep on eye on Pan due to his pension for causing problems....the bad kinds. His favorite children are Hermaphrodite and Hermanubis, he believes they're both his best out comes and both children have the best qualities of both parents.

He's extremely terrible at coming up with names for his children.

He dangerously takes more after his grandfather than he does Zeus physically and powerwise. Due to his incredible speed, his connection to everything from the underworld, to the intricate influences he has on mortal life, and even the fact he actually feels time catching up with him when he over runs, Zeus feared that his father's dark influence was on Hermes and protected him as much as possible from the scrutiny of his other siblings. This fed the fear that Hermes was to be the son to overthrow Zeus....until Apollo became Hermes's closest brother and friend and until Dionysus came along and basically padded the weird "dark prophecy" down to a grinding hult. Since then, Hermes secretly is forever in dept to both brothers for essentially proving everyone else's assumption of his dark nature wrong.

He has an extremely interesting relationship with his demigod brothers like Heracles and Perseus, with a lot of convincing, Hermes was able to get both Demigods to be considered full fledged gods by Zeus's blessings. Since Demigods age far more slower than normal mortals, unless consecrated into Olympus by Zeus, Hermes always consolidates his demi-siblings since he knows unlike the Gods, they will too one day die. He just really didn't want to lose his favorite half-brothers.

Out of the trio, he's seen the most shit. He's seen painful and peaceful deaths. Being a psychopomp isn't all fun and games unfortunately, it's the equivalent of being a doctor in terms of emotional disturbance. He does find it comforting that the only people who completely and fully comprehend what he internally goes through is Thanatos, Hypnos, Charon and Hades. All four of which constantly consolidate him on how he feels and that it's ok to go through the motions of what they call "indiscriminate mourning", a feeling of constent mourning for those who have no relevance to him but which one constantly feels empathy. In a dark humorous way, a demon in Tartarus suggested to remove his "empathy" to ease his suffering but Hermes refused because he'd rather have it than feel nothing.

Being the god of deception, he actually hides his insecurities and personal on-goings extremely well. He knows what's important is the present of things, he's seen death (literally and the god) and has seen what life has to offer. It's not going to stop him from having the best time with his brothers. Lucky for him, he tends to forget he's pretending and goes on as best as he wants to.

He loves animals. He's especially sympathetic to turtles and tortoises, he absolutely admires them for just being such a slow animal who can also be close to home. He recently discovered sloths in the continent that will soon be discovered as South America, and is completely enchanted by their slowness. He also loves 'racing' with faster animals like horses and antelope.

He is the only living being Cerberus let's through in and out of the underworld. Mostly because Cerberus never seems to catch him, thus the beast doesn't really bother, plus Hermes always brings treats for him so that helps.

The wings on his helmet are emotive when active and melds into the metal when inactive. Being the most 'human' of the trio, he can slip into a crowd unnoticed.

Out of the trio he seems the most normative, being more down to earth like Artemis. However he doesn't show the same amount of contempt for the pampered life of a god as much as Artemis does, he's comfortable where ever.

Like Dionysus, he has a very wide range of companions, friends and allies. he doesn't have a lot of enemies that he can name but he does have a bit of a complicated relationship with Ares. He doesn't really hate Ares, but he does enjoy occasionally making a fool out of him. Ares in truth doesn't mind this considering Hermes did save him from some Giants who put them in an urn....is early enough it's not that he's indebted, it's just that when he threatens to kill her is it really isn't anything.

Hermes enjoys antagonizing people isn't very fond of. Hera specifically, he tries to find every way to anger her as much as possible. Even if it results at some else's expense.

He can and will, consentingly fuck your wife. And he would do it again.

Juxtaposed to his complicated and emotionally heavy job as a psychopomp, he's an absolute funnyman. It even borders on 'Bugs Bunny' like antics.

#greek bros #dionysus #apollo #im sorry if this takes away from the mystery of some of the characters #but I just had to make this list for the sake of character development and maybe even some help with the story going on #hermes #ares #I will make another list for a series of characters but that'll take a little more time for development #greek gods #greek mythology #hellenistic #apparently in Greece if your name starts with an h that just means you're a hard worker by default #also I'm sorry for the very angsty head cannons for Hermes #he's bizarrely a lot more deep than I expected him to be #also please don't complain about the sexuality of the characters considering everyone technically is pan or bisexual #with the exception of the virgin goddesses #they're probably either Ace or just sexually agnostic #I don't know this is my first time actually putting sexuality as a factor in these lists #please don't be mad at me educate me politely #character study #character development

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

26th October >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Tuesday, Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

Romans 8:18-25

The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons.

I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons. It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, it was made so by God; but creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first-fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved – our salvation is not in sight, we should not have to be hoping for it if it were – but, as I say, we must hope to be saved since we are not saved yet – it is something we must wait for with patience.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 125(126)

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

When the Lord delivered Zion from bondage,    it seemed like a dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter,    on our lips there were songs.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

The heathens themselves said: ‘What marvels    the Lord worked for them!’ What marvels the Lord worked for us!    Indeed we were glad.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

Deliver us, O Lord, from our bondage    as streams in dry land. Those who are sowing in tears    will sing when they reap.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

They go out, they go out, full of tears,    carrying seed for the sowing: they come back, they come back, full of song,    carrying their sheaves.

R/ What marvels the Lord worked for us.

Gospel Acclamation

John 15:15

Alleluia, alleluia! I call you friends, says the Lord, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. Alleluia!

Or:

Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 13:18-21

The kingdom of God is like the yeast that leavened three measures of flour.

Jesus said, ‘What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it with? It is like a mustard seed which a man took and threw into his garden: it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air sheltered in its branches.’

   Another thing he said, ‘What shall I compare the kingdom of God with? It is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour till it was leavened all through.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[steveezekiel]

SPIRITUAL WARFARE AND TEST

1. "These are the Nations that THE LORD LEFT IN THE LAND TO TEST THOSE ISRAELITES who had not experienced the wars of Canaan.

2. HE DID THIS TO TEACH WARFARE TO GENERATIONS OF ISRAELITES who had no experience in battle."

Judges 3:1,2 (NLT)

• The main adversary Or archenemy of Believers is the devil (Revelation 12:9,10).

- Albeit, there are human beings Who yielded to the devil and are used as instruments against the Believers.

THE work of these people is to act for the devil, they are his agents.

THE devil empowered them to do evil and propagate his works on earth.

THESE people are the enemies of the people of God, Believers in general.

- These agents are: witches, occultists, wizards, voodoo priests, and some other ones would not all be removed or destroyed—they are allowed to remain for a purpose.

IF all the opposition around you are removed, and you live in comfort without any challenge from the devil, his agents and demons, you may be complacent and not serve God again.

SOME forces and human agents of the devil are permitted around you to teach you about spiritual warfare, and to test your heart whether you would obey His COMMANDMENTS or not.

"And they were left, that He might test Israel by them, TO KNOW WHETHER THEY WOULD OBEY THE COMMANDMENTS OF THE LORD, which He had commanded their fathers by the hand of Moses."

Judges 3:4 (NKJV)

• The devil is there to challenge whatever you may want to do for the kingdom.

- God would want you to face battles, challenges, and know how to handle conflicts and opposition successfully in whatever you do (1 Peter 5:8,9).

- The devil would not want you to get what the Lord has promised and apportioned you without putting up a fight.

THERE are giants in every Canaan land apportioned you by God (Numbers 13:28,31-33).

- You may not get it with ease, it has to be with violence: "And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take by force" (Matthew 11:12).

God did allow certain Nations in Canaan to teach the new generation of the Israelites about warfare.

He did not allow Joshua to kill and drive out all the inhabitants of the land completely (Judges 2:21-23).

• You can not dodge the battles, there are forces and human agents of the devil that would be allowed to teach you about spiritual warfare.

- If you leave a place because of opposition, you should know that the new place you are going, some would be there waiting for you.

THERE may not be any free and easy zone where there would not be any opposing forces.

- The forces and human agents of the devil permitted are not meant to kill you, they are allowed to train you about spiritual growth and warfare (Judges 3:2).

BY being exposed to challenges and allowed to face opposition, your spiritual strength and muscles are built up, thus you would have strong spiritual stamina—a stalwart believer.

• The Bible also mentioned that those heathen Nations were left unconquered that God May test the Israelites whether they would obey His commands or not (Judges 3:4).

LIKEWISE in the life of every believer, the forces allowed are to test them whether they would obey the commandments and instructions given them by God (Judges 3:1).

- Whenever you allowed laxity, spiritual apathy Or whatever in your life, God may permit the devil or any of his agents to touch your comfort, in order to wake you up in your slumbering and brace up as a soldier of Christ (1 Thessalonians 5:6; 2 Timothy 2:3,4).

GOD may allow your dreams to be manipulated, Also, may permit lacks, disappointments, and any other form of frustrations and oppressions in order to wake you up and pray, fast, give, be diligent in the study of the Word, attend Church meetings, and practice other spiritual principles.

GOD is not the cause of the affliction, but your spiritual apathy GIVE room to the devil to have a field Day in your life: "For God is not the author of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints" (1 Corinthians 14:33).

IF you break the hedge, the serpent will bite (Ecclesiastes 10:8).

• God is loving, He would not want you to go into spiritual apathy.

- He would not want you to lose your salvation, your fellowship with Him, and whatever Blessing He has bestowed on you.

- Whenever there is a gap between you and Him, a gap in your relationship with Him, He may permit the enemy, the devil, to shake you up and that you may run back to Him (Amos 4:6-11).

GOD would not want to share the affection you have for Him with any other person Or thing.

- When you started giving attention to someone or something more than God, then you are calling for problems.

GOD would allow whoever you give attention and whatever you give priority more than Him to humble you, disappoint you, and chastise you.

- Your attention should be given to God alone, He is interested in every affair of your life.

GOD desires our fellowship than any other thing, If you starve Him of your fellowship or communion, He will allow you to receive disappointments from wherever or whomever your focus or heart is.

• You can only take your inheritance, your promised land, through consistent fellowship with God.

DO not allow any Gap in the relationship with Him.

HAVE a plan on how to know Him the more, that is, how to grow in your walk with God.

IF you allowed any Gap in your relationship and fellowship with God, you may have to suffer for it.

• You will not regret in Jesus' name.

Peace!

#christianity #gospel #christian living #jesus #the bible #christian blog #devotion #faith #my writing #prayer