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skaldish · 1 year

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Could you expand upon your ideas around how Venerating a Deity doesn’t mean trying to embody what they represent? I was raised in a church that literally said the word “worship” meant “to try to become like”. So I’m fascinated by how you could worship a deity of a thing and not want to make more of that thing out in the world. I want to learn a new paradigm

Happy to! I love talking about paradigms.

Firstly…

Different religions and denominations conceptualize "worship" differently.

This includes "what you do to worship" but also includes ideas around "what gives worship its value."

"Trying to become like a deity" is something I've seen specifically associated with Evangelism and Fundamentalism (perhaps others, but this is what I know). It's derived from the idea that Christians are warriors of god and that it's their duty to act as his voice and hands on Earth. This is derivative of their doctrinal idea that they need to "save" people by any means necessary. (Teaching people to define who they are through God makes people dependent on God for a core sense of self, which is a huge reason why it's so psychologically awful to leave these denominations. It robs you of everything you are and leaves you with no way of creating yourself anew.

It's one thing to admire a deity and aspire to adopt some of their attributes as a point of personal growth; it's another altogether to teach people that they need to replace their inherent personality with a prescribed ideological construct. I loathe it entirely.)

Now, Catholics don't tend to interpret worship as the act of "trying to be like God." Given what I've observed and what I know of their ideology, worship for them is largely a function of sacrifice. You sacrifice your time, skills, wealth, etc. to God, because giving up things that are difficult to give up is how you show you really mean your devotion.

(I've seen this behavior in Heathens, actually, when they do things like buy top-shelf mead only to pour every last drop of it out on the ground for Odin or similar.)

I also take a lot of issues with this form of worship because I know why it exists: Extortion. The Church learned hundreds of years ago that guilt-tripping people out of their money (in exchange for salvation, an unfalsifiable concept that they neither had to prove nor procure) was an excellent way to get rich and powerful with impunity.

Clearly you caught me on a day I'm feeling extra-spicy towards Christianity. But I bring those two up in detail because I know a lot of my followers come from these backgrounds, and having more points of differentiation is important.

See, the real pitfall here lies in thinking that Christianity represents the "default" for how religions work, when in reality it's the grand exception, given all of human history.

The other religions I know about (with the exception of Judaism) are distinctly polytheistic: Shinto, Hinduism, Buddhism, and various flavors of Paganism. These all have different models of worship because they all have different, culturally-informed philosophies about how divinity works. Religions are inseparable from the cultures that create them for this reason, and why switching religions is a function of adopting a completely new mindset, not just a new set of gods to venerate.

Norse Heathen Worship

Since this is a Heathen blog I'm obligated to talk a bit about this.

How we worship as Norse Heathens is still a matter of debate, but that's because we're still figuring out how to define "worship" within the context of how it operates as a spirituality.

At no point did Norse Heathenry have a governing body, a religious figure, or a holy book to guide practice. Things developed organically, unique to their time-period and location, and stories were (and are) passed down via oral tradition rather than written down.

Many Heathens mistakenly think we're missing religious mandates, hence why they're so bent on trying to find them or devise them. I think this is a mistake.

A religion's architecture derives from the values, worldviews, and agendas of the culture/people behind it. The reason why a Christian's relationship with God looks like a Lord/servant dynamic is because the religion was shaped by lawmakers, and "loyalty towards the law" was a value they wanted to instill in the general population. Christianity was used to shape politics, so politics in turn shaped Christianity.

Norse Heathenry didn't have this function, so rather than reflecting political values, it reflects cultural ones. The stories are allegorical representations of cultural ideas, which themselves are based in the context of animism—the idea that everything operates as an ecosystem, and divinity is inseparable from that ecosystem.

This is all to say that the way Heathens worship is largely a byproduct of how they interface with that ecosystem. How this looks is something we choose based on what we find connection with, as opposed to mandates given to us.

Some people might find this kind of answer unsatisfying because it doesn't lead to any directive on "how to worship," but that might be because we're used to thinking of worship as a "duty," as opposed to what is actually, anthropologically is: A type of enrichment.

How I Worship

The way I go about worship is the same way I go about any kind of social bonding; through collaboration. In my mind, venerating deities is functionally identical to socializing with them, and like any socialization, how that's done varies from deity to deity. Anything I do in my practice—offerings, devotional art, etc—is informed by what I perceive them liking.

(Keep in mind I'm a hard polytheist, and I'm a hard polytheist because it's the only descriptor that could describe how I experience deities; as beings with autonomy divorced from my own will. A soft polytheist would conceptualize this entire thing differently.)

I also personally conceptualize "veneration" "devotion" and "worship" all differently, which is why you'll see me use the word "veneration" to describe what most people call "worship:"

Veneration is the general state of reverence or respect for something we hold spiritually important, such as a spirit, deity, or ancestor.

Devotion is a kind of enthusiastic dedication that emerges from love.

Worship is a ritual activity done as a gift for a god.

But this is just how I understand things for myself. They're not a reflection of how these things are thought of in Norse Heathenry. (In fact, they're mostly a product of the fact I initially learned about worship through observation, rather than experience. But I figured I'd bring it up anyway to provide an additional dimension to your paradigm explorations.)

I'm not sure what else to say so, uh…feel free to follow up with questions in case you want me to dive more into something.

#answered #norse paganism #norse polytheism #norse pagan #norse gods #norse heathenry

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teecupangel · 11 months

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I would LOVE to see a crossover between demon slayer & assassin’s creed , like it was something that I’m dying to see ever since I got back into the AC franchise in October.

Also I think you should know about Edward, Shay, and Evie JPN VA’s , BC HOLY SHIT

Kenjiro Tsuda is Edward and NOBODY talks about it and the man is a LEGEND along with the other legends! I relate Edward and Kishibe from CSM bc they both love booze and women. Evie voices Annie from AOT and Shay does Caesar from JJBA battle tendency

(This is kinda an offshoot of this 'what if AC and Demon Slayer characters with the same jp voices meet' idea)

Alright, before we go gushing over the jp voices of the other main characters, let’s first talk about an Assassin’s Creed x Demon Slayer Crossover.

This… will have spoilers for Demon Slayer so Imma put it in a Read More. This will take the backstory of both Demon Slayer and coat it in Assassin’s Creed Isu Bullshit to make this more on the side of ‘two series getting blended together with Isu ice’ crossover than a ‘these characters appear in this series’ crossover.

Game?

Okay, let’s do this.

(sidenote, my fingers are so used to typing Desmond that whenever I want to write Demon, it usually goes “Desmon” so if I missed any Desmon misspelling, let me know XD)

So, Muzan’s experimental treatment happened during the Heian period (794 to 1185) and we won’t get into that much detail about this time but the year is important because this is smack dab (1090) in the middle of the year the Assassin Brotherhood was created (or had transitioned from the Hidden Ones).

So, in this crossover, the experimental treatment that was supposed to save Muzan was created using a failed Isu experiment that an off-branch of the Order of the Ancients have found and were doing human experiments to check if it was possible to use it to prolong their lives like the legends of the misthios who was still hunting them down.

Now, we are using the Order of the Ancients in this one for one simple reason: the Templar Order is still building its presence from the ashes of the Order of the Ancients’ main branch in England and is currently under the ideology of King Aelfred. They’re too busy preparing for their ‘grand entrance’ to do human experiments at the moment (and many members would consider such thing beneath them or against their personal interpretation of the Order of which the Templar Order was meant to usher in).

So, Muzan is gets turned into a demon by this experiment and the Order of the Ancients became his first victims and he tortured + experimented on them to learn the truth. By the time Kassandra gets there, it was already too late. Muzan has created his first few demons to create that specific demon that might ‘cure’ him. Kassandra’s high Isu genes meant that she could do feats that normal humans cannot do and these skills gave her an edge in fighting the demons together with the hidden blade she now possessed.

She managed to take down the demons Muzan created (which was a good thing because they were about to tell Muzan about the Isus) and she fought Muzan as well. Unfortunately, she was unable to defeat him and Muzan tries to turn her into a demon as well… to enslave her to him.

The Isu ‘tech’ that was used to make Muzan into a demon reacted to Kassandra differently though and instead she seemingly died after having a severe seizure.

Muzan left disappointed but an hour later, Kassandra gasps as she opened her eyes.

She doesn’t know what happened and if the Staff had been the one to save her or not but she retreats for now, knowing it would be futile to take Muzan alone.

She needed allies…

From Heian Period to The Third Crusades/Kamakura period:

Kassandra makes contact with the Ubuyashiki family and helps in the creation of the Demon Slayer Corps (more as a secret co-conspirator because she knows Muzan would hunt her and the Ubuyashiki family if he learns she lived)

She tried to contact the Hidden Ones as well but learned that the Hidden Ones are no more, having been absorbed by the Assassin Brotherhood who are currently ‘unavailable’ so Kassandra is on her own at the moment.

Kassandra would leave Japan to finally contact the Assassin Brotherhood once she was sure that the Demon Slayer Corps could handle their own. She meets with their current mentor, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, to talk about the demon problem in Japan.

Altaïr joins her in Japan to check the situation himself, leaving the Brotherhood to Malik Al-Sayf, and they learn that the Apple cannot control them at all yet they could be misled by the Apple’s illusions. It’s thru Altaïr’s studies with the Apple that they learn why Kassandra survived Muzan trying to turn her into a demon. Those with high concentrated Isu genes have varying immunity to being turned into demons and there is a defense mechanism in play in certain individuals to keep them from turning into demons. Altaïr says that this mechanism is only in certain people and, if they drink blood from either Muzan or Kassandra (who has been ‘infected’ in a sense), they would gain a similar immortality that Kassandra possessed.

Things happened, the demons attack, Altaïr is wounded saving the current Oyakata-sama and Kassandra berates him for being reckless. Altaïr tells her that his wounds are too severe so Kassandra agrees to let him drink her blood. Altaïr doesn’t turn into a demon but is revived as effectively an immortal like Kassandra (although the infection made the Staff’s immortality setup moot, making both Kassandra and Altaïr not age but be able to die if their body takes too much damage). Altaïr returns to Masyaf to make preparation to branch out the Brotherhood before it became clear he was no longer aging.

Once everything is done, Altaïr relinquishes his title to Malik and tells everyone that he will create a Brotherhood in Japan. The Japanese Brotherhood would look after Templar activities (which seemed to be in the bud at the moment) while helping the Demon Slayer Corp in their endeavours to kill demons and find and take out Muzan once and for all.

Unfortunately, Kassandra and Altaïr’s appearances made Muzan realize that, if he wants to survive and reach his goal, keeping his plans in Japan is not the way to go.

They hear rumors that Muzan left Japan and now Kassandra and Altaïr go their separate ways to try and find Muzan.

Sidebar: Altaïr definitely went to the Island of Tsushima to fight off the Mongols and he reunites with his oldest son Darim there who told him that Sef is now the mentor. Altaïr gives Darim his Armor of Altaïr (that’s not the original name, Altaïr named it the Sunlight Armor but… uuhhh… the name got changed later on due to… time) and the eagle sword forged in Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore. He has his own nichirin sword and he warns Darim that if they were ever faced with an enemy that seemed unworldly, use his sword or their hidden blades.

The original hidden blades used by the Hidden Ones (most of which were used by the Assassins in Alamut and Masyaf) were forged from Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore as well. It’s unclear where the Hidden Ones got the ores and sands but Kassandra has an inkling it’s connected to a mysterious merchant ally of the Hidden Ones that she only heard the name of “Thousand Eyes”. Altaïr had requested that more hidden blades be created for the Brotherhood in Japan and that they ship a few of them to the other branches to give them a chance in case a demon gets there.

Renaissance Italy/Muromachi(Sengoku) Period:

Altaïr gets to Italy because he learns of an Apple being transported into Venice. By the time he gets there, the Apple is in the hands of Ezio Auditore who had retaken it from the Templars after an epic punch out in the Vatican. He managed to get to the Italian Brotherhood’s main headquarters, Monteriggioni, just in time to warn them about the army he saw on his way to them.

A lot of people do a doubletake because, yeah, he looks a lot like the statue of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad but he just waves it off as him being a descendant because there’s no way he was going to say ‘yeah, I’m the real deal and I’m sorta immortal at the moment because there is a much larger problem than Templars right now.’

He helps them protect the town but they knew that they had to leave. The Papal Army will return with more soldiers and they wouldn’t bat an eye razing the entire town into the ground just to ‘clean’ the taste of defeat from their mouth.

They all go to Rome with many of the civilians joining them and Altaïr gets sucked into the whole ‘let’s get all of Rome against the Borgias!’ plan.

He and Ezio become friends and he also becomes a close advisor to Ezio’s early years as a mentor, just to help him get to his feet and figure out by himself what kind of mentor he wants to be.

Ezio also lets Altaïr study the Apple and the two Apples resonant with one another, showing Altaïr and Ezio a blurry vision of someone. Ezio believes that person is the one the goddess call Desmond. Altaïr doesn’t understand why but he also believes that Ezio is right. That person is Desmond…

Cesare still poisons his father and runs away, Ezio and Altaïr chase after him but Altaïr is distracted by the appearance of three demons who tried to kill him while Ezio continued to chase after Cesare. Feeling dread in the pits of his stomach, Altaïr takes care of the three demons and tried to find Ezio and Cesare.

He’s just in time to see Cesare pierce Ezio’s stomach and it was clear that Cesare had become a demon, Ezio didn’t let that deter him, using the sword Altaïr had given to Darim all those years before to behead Cesare. As his head and body fell to the cliff below as it disintegrated, Ezio falls to his knees.

Altaïr gives him his blood before he dies because he knows, something inside him knows, that Ezio is one of the people with the defense mechanism. Ezio is revived and he returns to Italy with Altaïr.

After he was sure the Brotherhood would be okay even if he was no longer the mentor, Ezio joined Altaïr in traveling to Masyaf because Ezio had a vision when he was turned of a castle that, when he described it to Altaïr, sounded a lot like Masyaf. Although Altaïr has no idea what this supposed door underneath Masyaf was meant to be. There was no door there before.

The Ezio-Sofia thing happens in the background and it takes them longer to find the memory seals (which now contain memories of Sef). The last memory seal they find is actually in Sef’s resting place in Alexandria and Sef directly talks to Altaïr, “Father, I know you’re out there somewhere. I made all of these because of a dream I had. I cannot truly explain it but… there is something in Masyaf that must be kept a secret until you return. Once you see it… you will understand what must be done to keep the world safe from the darkness crueler than the Templars will ever be.”

When they finally entered the underground ‘garden’ (as legends go, it was a garden that Sef had tended every day), it’s dark but they could see something blue glowing at the center. Once they were close enough, they realize it was a flower bed of blue spider lilies.

And, in the center of the flower bed, a man was sleeping. No. He wasn’t moving at all.

Was he dead?

They cautiously stepped closer and the moment Ezio and Altaïr were by the edge of the flower bed, the slightly glowing blue spider lilies glowed brightly before slowly losing all colors, turning into white spider lilies. It started from the edge then slowly moved inward until the last blue spider lilies to lose their color were the ones underneath the man.

A second pass…

And the man gasped as he sat up.

He turned to look at the two men staring at him and blinked as he called out, “Altaïr? Ezio?”

They don’t know how or why but both of them answered, “Desmond…”

Dun dun dun!

Yup. Ending it there at the moment because this was getting looonngg. I’ll continue with the Kenway family drama another time (and, this time, we get Kassandra and Edward duking it out in naval combat).

I am thinking if we should make Haytham and Shay immortals OR, let’s add lots of Kenway family drama in this one (as well as Dorian-Cormac feud) by making them both demons instead (and they’ll be part of the Twelve Kizukis). I’m honestly leaning toward the latter XD.

Sorry if this was light on the Demon Slayer characters but the main characters of Demon Slayer won’t be born until the Taisho Era (1910ish) but, at that point, you bet the story would be much more different since there’s gonna be butterfly effects.

Other than that, yes, we are making Desmond the living embodiment of the blue spider lilies that Muzan was looking for because I show my love to Desmond by making his life complicated XD

========================

Now, let’s gush over the JP voices of the other AC main characters.

Before anything else…

Desmond Miles is voiced by Hiroki Tōchi

Who voices as a lot of older men types (Malik from Tales, General Cross from D.Gray-man, Ovan from .hack, Mael from Seven Deadly Sins and Klaus from Valkyria Chronicles) which I find funny. He’s also the jp voice of Gavin Reed (Detroit Become Human), Chris Redfield (RE) and Nathan Drake (Uncharted).

Funny thing? He voiced Toki from Fist in the North Star in the 2010 anime adaptation BUT Tomokazu Seki (EZIO) took over for the 2010 and 2013 video games.

AND to make things even funnier, Haytham is voiced by Kenyu Horiuchi who voiced Toki in the 2023 Fitness Boxing game and the Legend of Raoh anime. XD

(honestly, there’s a lot of Fist of the North Star voice actors in Assassin’s Creed with Altaïr’s voice actor being one of the go-to voices of Kenshiro XD)

Edward Kenway is voiced by Kenjiro Tsuda (yeeesss, he’s definitely a Legend! He’s freaking Seto Kaiba!)

He also voiced Gris/Gregory from Fire Emblem, Luis Sera from the RE4 remake, Zeke from Xenoblade Chronicles 2, Zaveid from Tales, CHIKAGE from Hakuoki, FIRE EMBLEM from Tiger & Bunny, TATSU from The Way of the Househusband, NANAMI from Jujutsu Kaisen, Overhaul from MHA/BNHA, and have I already said that he voiced Seto Kaiba from YuGiOh? Yeah? Well, he voiced Seto Kaiba from YuGiOh. I think the best part is that he voiced Hannes from AOT. Hhhmmmm… parental figure to a main character that has dirty blond hair and is using alcohol to cope with the bad shit in his life only to die in front of said main character? Lollollol (also, also, Kishibe, Hannes, and Edward would definitely try to drink each other under the table)

Evie Frye is voiced by Yu Shimamura

As @ullyaboo has already said, voiced Annie in AOT, she’s also the voice of Zelda in TOTK, Mature in 2018 King of Fighters game (who was usually voiced by Hiroko Tsuji), Cindy from FFXV, Shinobu from JoJo, and Ilina from Chaika.

Once more, Rogue’s voice actors are not in Behind the Voice Actors so I had to doublecheck with the jp wiki. XD

Shay Cormac’s voice actor is Takuya Satou

Who voices CAEEESSAAARRRR in JoJo (sidenote: Old man Joseph is voiced by Unshō Ishizuka who voices William Miles XD), Machias from Trails, Albert James Moriarty from Moriarty, Conrad and Abel from Fire Emblem, and Alphen in Tales.

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cassianus · 1 year

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In St. Isaac the Syrian, I have encountered someone like no other. Even among the Fathers, East and West, whom I have engaged over these past thirty years, Isaac stands alone; which admittedly is to say a lot. When I first picked up his Ascetical Homilies and heard them described thus: "If all the writings of the desert fathers which teach us concerning watchfulness and prayer were lost and the writings of Abba Isaac the Syrian alone survived, they would suffice to teach one from the beginning to end concerning the life of stillness and prayer. They are the Alpha and Omega of the life of watchfulness and interior prayer, and alone suffice to guide one from his first steps to perfection," I was certainly intrigued but thought it simply to be hyperbole. Of all the the Fathers we have studied in groups at the Oratory, St. Isaac (unfamiliar in name and stature) garnered the least amount of interest; especially in comparison to the somewhat better known Cassian and Climacus. His style of writing was certainly different from the others; not Conferences or Steps but rather Homilies. They were exhortative, meant to set the heart afire for the love of God; not simply to be read or studied but to be received as a calling as sure and as strong as the Lord's "Follow Me". As true homilies, they arose from a heart that had experienced that call and had found his life turned upside down; only then to discover true Life.

After a year passed, with the homilies being read aloud and verbatim in our small group, the image of St. Isaac became clearer and with it his writings more and more compelling. The thought would echo following each group that "after hearing this there was no going back to looking at one's life as before." To do so one would have to live in complete denial - would have to silence the conscience. Uneasiness with oneself and one's life is the necessary prelude to conversion. St. Isaac at every turn anticipates such unease and resistance, expecting that it would arise and gently yet persistently beckons the listener to move ever forward. Now the words of another describing St. Isaac no longer seemed hyperbolic: "Isaac is the mirror. There you will behold yourself. The mirror is so that we may see if we have any shortcoming, any smudge on our face, in order to remove it, to cleanse ourselves..... In Abba Isaac you will behold your thoughts, what they are thinking. Your feet, where they are going. Your eyes, if they have light and see. There you will find many sure and unerring ways in order to be helped."

Indeed, St. Isaac the Syrian was like no other. However, it was in the reflections of Archimandrite Vasileios, Abbot of Iveron Monastery on Mount Athos, that I finally found one who captured the full extent of the extraordinary nature of the man, the Saint, I have come to revere beyond all expectation. Here was one through whom the hitherto unknown and untouched was revealed.

"The best is of everything the measure." Man is the measure - the holy person. And St. Isaac is a measure for man, for life and art and action.

Look at where he is! The way he lives! The way he writes! What poetry, what philosophy, what psychology he produces! Look at the way he acts, the way he keeps silence, the way he moves and the way he remains still! Is it possible to judge people by the yardstick of St. Isaac? Is he not a great man, supremely great, unique? Is it not unfair or impertinent to compare everyone else - ordinary people like us - with figures of this stature? I would have no hesitation in answering: NO. If he were someone who had been very active in a particular field, or who had some altogether exceptional natural gifts by which he astonished all mankind, then it would not be right to take him as a yardstick to judge and compare other people. But something different is goin on here: this Abba is supremely great and supremely human. He is at once grand and affable. In his presence, the great feel insignificant and the small take courage and feel able to function.

He does not flatter the one, nor does he despise the other. He is not ignorant of anyone's sufferings, their propensities or sorrows. He himself is a complete whole. A mature fruit of the Spirit, which shows its maturity by its color, aroma, softness and taste.

St. Isaac the Syrian is humane, humble. He understands, he has a deep knowledge of the weaknesses of the suffering world. He is not some stern judge or merciless inquisitor. He knows all about our weaknesses and our poverty; he shares in our nature and - at the same time - partakes in the joy and consolation of the age to come.

He does not argue with anyone. He provides opportunities and waits. He speaks the truths and leaves it to work within us.

Great as he is, he respects those who are small, who are humble. He respects their struggles and their confessions, even more than they themselves do, given that they all live to a greater or lesser extent within the realm of corruption, rivalry, jealousy, and of the effort to go beyond all this.

The Abba does not tell you, by his life and by his writings, “Abandon your struggle”. He does not reject your efforts. He does not deny you the joy that comes from them. He wants to liberate you from the cycle of corruption: to break down the dam that blocks your progress, and push you out onto the fathomless waters of the mystery of life.

He can see that you are closing yourself up. You imprison your inner person which thirsts for freedom. You are stymieing your development, narrowing the horizons of your life, depriving yourself of the openings towards new expansion- the deaths and resurrections - which dignify man and the endless and eternal grace that come to you.

As you follow St. Isaac faithfully, you go deeper into man. And every person enters into you. All together you go forward as brothers towards the new creation; you are able to breathe, in the still air of unfettered freedom. Together you undergo increase without end and ceaseless extension, even as you are humbled, as you “contract”, and you sacrifice yourselves for what is greatest.

It is possible, however, for man to be grafted into an everlasting tree. He can become a “branch of the vine of life“. His ascesis can be linked with another ascesis. He can be baptized in his entirety. He can offer himself, he can die, as true lovers of Truth seek to do. And as he dies and is buried with Jesus in His death, he can be raised up with Him into a new life.

The journey, the extension, the ascent does not stop at some point. You keep on advancing. You divest yourself of the desire to project yourself. You abandon defensiveness. Everything does you good. You are concerned with something else. You avoid things human, and you find human beings. You attain to silence. And your words and your life speak in a different way.

If you are demanding in your life, you can come into contact with St. Isaac. He will initiate you into hidden mysteries. He will meet you where you yourself stop. He will take you by the hand when you feel you cannot go any higher. He will help you make progress along your own path. He will reveal to you - you will see and experience yourself - that kingdom of God which is to come is given to human beings even from today.

And St. Isaac remains a criterion and a measure for this life and the next, for your conduct, for action and contemplation, for dealing with every happiness or disaster, for concealing and revealing, for silence and speech.

When you come back to St. Isaac after some experience, after coming into contact with a different logic, a different character, ethos or even speech, the impression is always the same: at every point, in every subject - he gets full marks. There is no other yardstick more stable, so as to give you a genuine standard for judging everything: human behavior, philosophy of life, use of time, progress from the temporary to the eternal, strictness and leniency. . .

How is it that he does not have a single loose phrase! There is not a single appearance he makes, a way he deals with something, the nature of criticism, that would not leave you in awe! Here we have the offspring of a good and blessed hour. A fruit that is ripe, that attracts and satisfies every hunger. An understanding that embraces all the world. A weeping that softens the heart. A figure that inspires every character. A blessing that extends to every occupation and path that a person might choose to take: the musician finds harmony. The philosopher, wisdom. The anthropologist and psychiatrist, the fullness of their science. The revolutionary finds strength. The hesychast, guidance. The old person, understanding and companionship. The young person, wind for his sails to adventure onto the most open and stormy of seas and even beyond. The father, a teacher in how to behave to his children. The husband, guidance in living with his wife. The mother, infinite love, delicacy and tenderness. Someone on the point of death finds consolation. Someone embroiled in difficulties finds a way out. The prisoner serving life finds absolute freedom of movement and living. The patient incurably sick finds divine visitation and is taken up, with his whole body, into a place, a realm and a way of life where everything is transformed into an outpouring of tears of gratitude.

He is in a place where no one else is. And yet he finds everyone, in harmony. And everyone unfailingly regards him as their own person, the only one who understands them with delicacy and tact. He heals their passions, he gives them courage, he “slaughters” them with his utter compassion.

Suppose some person or people fell down dead, wounded by something that other people said or did, albeit unintentionally: this Abba forgives things that are unforgivable to most people. He is familiar with the inconceivable. He soothes the pain of murderers. He raises up the life of those who have been killed. He gives light to the blind. He gives feet to the lame and makes hardened criminals act like children, innocent, guileless and unformed.

How does this happen? It was a gift bestowed on him because he received directly the blessing of the whole Godhead in the Trinity, because the auspicious time came when, through humility, he offered everything forever to the One and Only. And the One gave him the eternity of blessing in all his being for evermore.

It seems that when he was born, he was baptized. He was baptized indeed into the death of Jesus. And he pursued a way of life that surpasses life and death.

And when he died, this man full of holiness and above measure, he himself passed into life in its completeness in a different manner. You do not know whether his presence was more vivid when he was living this temporary life, or whether his help and support for all is more active now that he has left history and his life in the flesh - now that, in perceptible terms, he has gone away from us all.

His life has been extended through death. His intellect has been illumined through Grace; his body is filled with the life that transcends the whole world. He has discovered a different basis for support; a different manner of conduct; a different way of perceiving assurance; a different love of truth; a different Truth - an incomprehensible and ineffable truth, which is identified with mercy. And this state, this logic, this ethos, this freedom, this delicacy, this undaunted fearlessness, have shaped and formed his entire being, his way of life and his existence.

So in him "before" and "after" are not separated. The same applies to strictness and leniency; to speech and silence, immobility and movement, life and death, truth and love, light and darkness, struggle and stillness. This is because in his entirety, with the whole body of his existence, he has attained to a state above existence. He has advanced to the point where everything ceases: activity, struggle, prayer, freedom. Everything that he loved, that he aimed for and achieved, has been superseded. It has all passed into another realm and way of life, one that is strange, inaccessible to man. And that which is inaccessible and unattainable - for man - has taken St. Isaac himself, with all his wares, to that place.

He vanished, was lost. And he found himself in a different manner, in perpetuity; he was there even for those who had not been looking for him, who had not known him, who had never be interested in his life, his words, and his interests.

Even if many people were not interested, St. Isaac was interested. And because he wore himself out, shared himself, broke himself to pieces, he found himself in a different way; he was given a self by the One and Only.

And now, it is this self risen from the dead, found after it was lost, the self over which "death has no more dominion", that he has scattered and continues to scatter, like a blessing of charity and a wealth of understanding for all. From no one does he ask anything for himself, wishing only for others to act freely, hoping in Christ Jesus. And for them to know that if at some time they find themselves at a point where there road is ending, their daylight is fading, where loneliness overwhelms them . . . then they should not go to pieces. They should be patient for a while. They should wait. And a door will open; an open road will stretch before them; light that knows no evening will rise; and the cosmic chaos which through loneliness pierced their being will be filled with a presence of love, of charity. Something unrevealed and unknown to them will be revealed.

They will hear things unheard, they will touch things intangible. They will be at ease. And they themselves will go on in a different way, as different people, continuing their endless journey which is nothing other than He who is the most holy Passover and endless extension.

Archimandrite Vasileios

Abbot of Iveron Monastery, Mount Athos

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kariachi · 2 months

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Five billion years ago I got the idea for a crossovery au where rather than have OS canon happen Kevin got adopted by whers.

Finally got something proper in for it.

It had been one of the browns, Conifer, who found the human pup. In truth he should have been reprimanded for it, deliberately leaving the edges of their territory to trespass on the humans like he had, but it was hard to argue against his assurances that humans would have only approved his investigation of strange lights, or the need of the pup he’d found holed up in a store house. Dusk hadn’t even been able to argue his lying to the human guard that had eventually arrived, claiming he was luring out a wandering wherlet, not when he’d shared the worry and fear the little thing had felt to realize an adult of his own was there.

Conifer hadn’t been having it, and nor would she. No pup should look so hungry, be so dirty, as this one had been when he had finally been guided back to the dens, and they certainly should not fear their own adults. They wouldn’t get an explanation for months, and never from the pup’s own mouth, but what little he saw was enough for Conifer to cut his patrol short in favor of bringing him home.

And he was home, at least until he was grown enough to forge his own path. The humans had had opinions on the matter, when they had learned about him, but it was no matter of their concern. Certainly, nobody had asked after a missing pup until the pack began trading for human-safe foods, for proper clothing for the coming winter. There’d been no notice paid to the way he tensed when talk turned to returning the runaway to his old family, the sorrowangerfearhurt that coursed through him at the thought. Concerns for his health and development leveled in the same sentences and tones as talk of violent behavior and the danger mutants can present, as if he had been anything more than as rambunctious and rough as any wherlet.

Wrong names, bold claims, and hollow assurances to his wellbeing- Dusk and her pack had not lashed out at anybody, though Kevin himself had nearly, but they had certainly not given up their new packmate.

They could trade as easily for food and clothes he could use as anything else they wished for, as part of their alliance with local packs and human settlements. Already they brought in nimble human hands as needed to tend their health, it was no great bother to find someone more focused on humans to call upon. Tutors could be traded in from packs with more human presence, to teach him what the pack could not- from human things to the survival skills one needed living in wher-claimed wilds. Humans even had methods to teach children in their homes that they could take advantage of. The city was right there, a quick jump Between from the center of the territory, and few begrudged a pup’s desire to visit where they’d hatched, to indulge in what was familiar and natural to him, especially when he would never learn to Between himself.

(A few years and much experimenting with his powers later, he would learn to do it himself. Starfield would spend the rest of her life bragging- she was such a grand teacher she’d taught a human to Between.)

He required more work than the pack’s other young, his needs special even by the standards of humans, but he was pack. All he asked that they could give was his, just as all they asked that he could give were theirs. If that meant weekly trips to libraries and holy houses, learning new celebrations, trading for special goods, hosting tutors from across the region, it was no less than they would do for any other wherlet if called for. For as long as he was theirs, he would be as happy, healthy, and educated as possible, as was the duty of a pack to its young. For the five years he was theirs they did right.

When the Ocean Gold Lachia headed off west in search of a territory of her own, followed happily by the Thunderstrike Kevin and their green sisters, Dusk and the others could be well content, and proud of their success.

#fanfic #did i pull the titles idea from rpdom? yes #do i love the idea that every greater dragonkin comes with their own title? also yes #and kevin gets one because he was raised by whers for five years

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strywoven · 3 months

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predictably , i've given kaen a new verse. it's a bit of a long read , but i hope you enjoy how insane it is ( mostly ) . under the cut , kaen's jjk verse ( always subject to change ) :

Chapter I - Rise for us , O’Sun

15th Century Scotland ( ~1400s ) ; a time wherein Scotland became its own antagonist. Clans waged wars amongst each other, the realm became one festering wound struggling in vain against the delicate balance of displaced power and peace ( both, squandered & becoming increasingly harder to attain ).

As always, there came and went a formidable few. Among the bloodlines, those who withstood the trials of time and conflict alike, stood a long-lived paragon: The Rolav Clan, a heritage - which, if we believe the edda written by own fellows - steeped deep within the bleeding heart of the earth, wrenched free from the veins of cursed gods. A name which heralded immense respect. But also a dread. These people … Were different. Traditionalists who believed in something known as THE GRAND DESIGN ; an old symbology which spoke of oneness and union for all things man and non ( after all, they would tell you, all things are the same in the matter of the soul ). Rumors might have you believe that these people were not mortal, that they were curses of some kind-- And eventually, the consequences of their ideas drove them into near-exile, excommunicated from all borders and forced into the unclaimed, untamed wilds and wastes, fading into the obscurity of own strangeness. For a while, at least, the Rolavs became a lingering blemish upon the record, and little more.

But contempt is a driving force, a madness. And these people were not the sort to be quelled. Instead, they expanded, continued their slow, deliberate conquest and mutilation of other clans. Soon enough, they began a most terrible venture upon reclaiming a desecrated relic: to revive the burning-glory entity whom once thwarted the might of the Holy Roman Empire ages before ( supposedly ; the legends of a horrific curse guarding the boundary of scotland is only hear-say for most ).

When they brought it forward … It was not what they expected ; an unholy creature, all mangled-many-limbed and hemorrhaging burning blood upon the land, gasping at breath of life, gagging and choking and spewing smoke-twisted tones and twisted verse, knotted together by immortal sinew and fur-flesh adorned by prismatic flame and antler-crown-- What was meant to be a celebration, a grand occasion, quickly escalated into a panicked fracas. Those present acted quickly - if not hastily - splitting the blazing monster right down to its too-radiant soul, creating two distinct subjects who were thus named: KAEN & ABEL , its true name forgotten and thought not to be invoked again for fear of returning it to its full mantle.

Chapter II - How Can We be so Different ?

A long while the twins had been asleep, and - in some aspects - things had changed. But humankind, apparently, had not. And this offered a vantage of deep discontent, a malignance breeding and taking root within each half-heart.

The Rolavs and their oddness, however, was refreshing. These people went to great lengths to enmesh the twins into the clan itself, as if - comically - they were the heirs and offspring of the current patriarch, Ceres. However, for as high of a pedestal as they were both put upon, it did not quite restrict the looks of anxiety and scrutiny which fell upon them at all hours. But Ceres himself was adamant that they were not to be harmed, not to be disrespected ; this was a step forward, he declared to everyone, for the twins were to be a reminder of the GRAND DESIGN , that it was possible to create a “whole order” ( a pure one ).

It was intended that the twins would return to their alleged post as A GUARDIAN for the entire realm … But neither of them could agree upon the terms, which halted progress immensely.

It began to become apparent that Kaen and Abel were dichotomous ; Kaen was a light, was “human-like” and “feeling”, whereas Abel was a shadow cast over the clan, was “curse-like” and apathetic to all but himself and his own kind. Frequently, the two would be caught in spats and scuffles, disputing over their position within the clan, arguing over their place amongst humanity ( something abel regularly condemned ). People remarked that their fights felt reflective of the inter-clan turmoil plaguing Scotland. And they weren’t wrong.

As time passed, the two - forged into transmuted human vessels to maintain appearances - were only noted to become increasingly stronger with each passing season. And with that strength, came the rising need for freedom. Although Abel was allotted many liberties ( both as the male of the pair & as the one with “control” ), Kaen was not ; they were given a human retainer - a curse user who specialized in nullification and could keep them in check should any … Accidents … Happen. But no-one accounted for the fact that Kaen and Allyra would develop a deep camaraderie with one another ( a lovering, some speculated later ), so much so that Kaen’s immortality was tarnished, dismantled by Allyra’s mere presence -- lending to her removal from the position and the sequestering of Kaen to “fix” the effects.

Abel, displeased by his counterpart’s growing weakness when it came to humanity, never allowed Kaen any peace and used his political leverage within the clan to make their life even more strained / restrictive in hopes that it might teach them something and remind them of their place. And when Allyra took ill - as humans tend to - and shortly thereafter passed, Kaen did not take the loss well. Abel in turn did not take Kaen’s grief well, either, condemning them for their emotions and their attachment to a lower-born creature, outright referring to them as a “bastard” of their kind and promptly disowning them as his ilk. During the 3 days in which Kaen grieved, sitting there in front of the gravestone, people reported that it seemed as if the sun did not even rise, instead it was cold, dark, and the air was filled with a palpable misery all were forced to endure.

On the dawn of the 3rd day, Kaen finally collected their bearings ( at least somewhat ) and stood from their place in the dirt and loam. They said, “Ah’m sorreh fer th’ monster Ah’m ‘bout ta’ become, Allyra, but at leas’ ye wun’ be ‘ere ta’ see it.” And departed to find their brother for a final altercation.

Chapter III - Genesis 4:10, The Lord said, “[KAEN] Look ! What , what have you done ?!”

Kaen confronts Abel in a brutal act of fratricide, felling and consuming him, soul and all, reuniting him with their own essence, which in turn allowed them to unify their aspect. Perhaps spurned by Abel’s own contempt, or even their lingering own, Kaen turned their attention towards the Rolav clan and razed the entire estate to the ground, leaving nothing of their bloodline behind.

Still unsatisfied, the burning glory turned its sights towards the crown, the monarchy, the source of the scourge in the realm. Despite being met with resistance, Kaen proved incredibly hard to contain and subdue. Having reached a temporary stalemate, the crown proposed a bargain: You will live, of course, you will be absolved … But in exchange, you must abide by our reign for the rest of eternity.

Kaen, with a little persuading ( read as: a very long time in isolation, away from light & any other presence to drive them mad ), accepts. Thus, for the next several centuries, Kaen is removed from containment and permitted to coexist with humanity under the guise of being the crown’s permanent guardian ( one kept on an extremely tight leash given the immense destruction / public upheaval they caused ). Kaen resumes their human vessel and becomes a sort of case study ; the first - if not only - instance of rehabilitation seen in a special grade curse to be progressively recorded over time. The crown eventually begins to wonder if the Rolavs were not so far off the mark after all … Perhaps, judging by Kaen’s extraordinary progress and “humanity”, it is plausible to create a unified front. Maybe.

Chapter IV - Can you Imagine ? Being Anything Other than What You Are ?

Kaen - with monikers such as “The Eternal Flame” , “The Beacon” , “The Dawnbringer” , and many others acquired over time - still exists under the pressured thumb of the current powers that be. They maintain their deliberate humanity, representing grace, diligence, forgiveness and - above all things - an immense, unquestioning kindness that has baffled people over the centuries. Still, they are a special grade curse, and they’ve no place meddling in human affairs any more than they do in their own kind ( you see, for such an anomaly, they have no place with either & this has led to many an issue over the course of their long, excruciating existence ). The creature maintains a respectable distance from both fronts, unless told otherwise ; though it is, as you might imagine, a lonely course. Kaen has, since the last couple centuries, become increasingly cynical and desensitized. For all the good they exude, they hold little faith in humanity and sit still today with a seed of rancor budding, steadily blooming, in their breast.

Their world changes when there is a request for transfer, a deal brokered that sends the entity out of their home-territory and straight to Japan. Uprooted from everything they know, away from anything familiar, Kaen finds that upholding airs in a place well-known for curses and cursed energy is far more difficult than they bargained for. It’s only a matter of time before their tricks fall short, or worse -- THEY’RE FORCED TO GET INVOLVED .

Misc. Information ( AKA: A few FAQs )

“Can Kaen be perceived by the public?” YES. They 100% can. The human vessel ( also known as a “cask” ) was transmuted out of real flesh, blood and bone, allowing them to exist and walk as if completely mortal amongst humankind. Kaen’s cask is purposefully unassuming ; a short, stocky, bespectacled redheaded woman with a sweet face and little to no cursed energy ( think Nadine from Chucky ). They implemented nullifying techniques INTO THE FLESH of the cask to dissolve and hide their immense cursed energy. The cask itself is designed to be durable, and is actually little more than a walking chrysalis for the transfigured monstrosity beneath.

“What happened to the Rolavs?” Completely eradicated, along with most of their benefactors during an immense fit of rage and revenge. Following the mass slaughter, Kaen sought out the monarchy, intending to destroy them as well, and instead entered negotiations with them. Alongside their initial bargain - per the usual terms of “my word is my bond” for most cursed spirits - the crown organized papers ( heraldry, licenses, you name it ) to name Kaen as the LAST LIVING HEIR to the Rolav bloodline, thus defecting all current and thereby future portions of the estate to them. Prior to being shipped away, Kaen took to rebuilding the Rolav estate ( with help ) and has lived there… Alone. Ironically, Kaen is exceptionally well off despite the crown not taking very good care of them or putting much faith in them. Kaen will introduce themself accordingly: “Kaen Rolav”. It’s a force of habit.

“How HUMAN is human for Kaen?” By the modern era, Kaen has successfully assimilated into human society. However, there is no escaping the differences. They may LOOK human - at least insofar as their outer shell may offer - but Kaen is still a special grade cursed entity at their core, with a very long-lived history ( incarnations ) of barbarism, bloodshed, and fearmongering. Kaen does indeed feel things ( sensations of pain / pleasure / other emotions ) to a greater capacity than humankind; both a strength and a weakness. And their senses are extremely keen. However, they have been neglecting their cursed traits for so long that anytime they’re triggered it becomes OVERWHELMING IN FORCE ( such as scenting fear, a known drive for kaen’s predatory urges ). Kaen is also able to eat and sleep like normal people, however their native diet - consisting of human essence - has been starved, thus poisoning them for well over a millennia.

“Who is Kaen really?” Kaëltyr - O’Dawn , O’Sun , O’Burning Glory ( "the immaculate light" ; a curse pre-dating the common era by several thousand years ) - a name no longer invoked, but one regaled and uplifted, immortalized and deified by the FAITH humanity vested within it ( & continues to ). Kaen, as a public figure in the modern era, is not oblivious to the sway and influence they possess ( after all, their true face is smeared across much of history & even erected in epithets & statues throughout the territory ). Since their most recent incarnation, Kaen’s power has been steadily accumulating, gathered from all the fear, hate, and rage they fed upon since the 15th century; every misery spoken in their once-name, every despair and desperation given to them in unheard prayer … Sustained them. Like many of their kind, it was a transaction, and each one gave them strength. From the face of malignance, to the magnanimous presence; Kaen is now the paradigm of something great to come ( & they don’t even realize it ).

#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | headcanons ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#the way i forced this down my friends' throats just so i was *sure* it all was fine #and the way i looked canon in the eye and said #“yeah that's cool and all but i'm gonna go ahead and do whatever the fuck else hehe”#LMAO KSJDCND #this is the most work i've put into a verse #you all better be proud of me >:(

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blacktobackmesa · 1 year

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"Gordon’s gut feeling was not liking the direction this was going in.

'So I took it,' Benrey continued. 'It was the story that made sense to Gordon Freeman, so it was probably the right one. If I could play the part of Final Boss, maybe I could have some story that made sense. And like, if I was secretly planning all this, that’s so much cooler than having to believe that everything about the way I work is–'

Benrey stopped himself, but seemed to realize it was already too late. He closed his mouth with a half-grumble, half-sigh.

'A mistake,' he finished. 'Being the awesome final boss was easier than accepting I don’t work.'

The metaphorical cards were all on the table. Gordon could never forget that boss fight, with the gigantic warping form of a security guard spouting line after line of a nonsense narrative in what Gordon had assumed was some attempt at scaring the team off.

But that had never been true, had it? Benrey hadn’t been trying to get anyone to do anything. It had all been for him. He was throwing out narrative hook after narrative hook, trying to get anything to stick to the wall and establish that he was a part of the world. He’d tried every angle– appeal to emotion, nostalgia, crude humor, a grand adventure, even video game developer corporate conflict. It was all a Hail Mary toss, and it was never caught.

'Holy shit, dude.' Gordon could only whisper."

For the fanfic commentary, this was one of my favorite parts of "Don't Spell Memory Without Me" and I was genuinely blown away by how good and smart this interpretation of Benry is for the Gordon streamman series and I would love to hear your thoughts on it. <3

In response to this prompt

[cracks knuckles] FUCK yes let's go. Ramble time

So neat fact about this. I posted the first chapter of Memory in late May of 2022, and it took several more months to get to the Benrey reveal. I actually put this explanation of Benrey’s actions in a joke text post in mid April, and it got exactly twenty notes. Foreshadowing level 100.

I have a close friend who I bounce all my ideas around with, which is a very necessary part of the creative process for me. It also makes it handy to keep track of when my ideas came around– my first discord message to them that discussed the concept of Benrey having no past and improvising everything is dated to February, and it was in the middle of a chat about the story that would evolve into Run For Your Life. So it’s been floating in Headcanon Space since before the Streamman series got a solid start. Dang, it’s been around since before I started my current job!

Benrey’s just so interesting, you know? He’s weirdly powerful. He follows his own set of rules, and doesn’t like it when other people don’t. He’s not human. He says all sorts of stuff that doesn’t make sense, even when the stakes are at their highest. What’s his motivation? Why is any of this happening? There’s never a concrete answer, but from another perspective, it’s pretty simple. He’s in an improv scene.

I’m an ex-theater kid, and I’ve done my fair share of improv. I took a class a couple years ago held by this big-name local theater, getting back in touch with the basics. Most people are familiar with the classic “Yes, And” rule– you can’t turn down the fact that your scene partner just gave you. You have to accept that as reality, and then build on it.

Gordon, of course, breaks the golden rule right off the bat. It wouldn’t be turning Benrey down if he just went “Oh I don’t have it, I meant to bring it today.” It’s the fact that he’s confused about being asked. As a character, Gordon (not Wayne) is a terrible improv partner, and the scene is supposed to be all about him. Benrey’s existence is defined by and contained within an improv scene, and this guy keeps turning down all his leads. So when Gordon gives him something to work with– a role as an antagonist– he has to take it.

This interpretation of Benrey is also rooted in my own experience with neurodivergence, and with something I call the Spicy Banana effect. There’s a name for it, probably, but I like Spicy Banana. I’ve heard anecdotes about people who have gone decades without realizing they have a banana allergy since nobody had ever told them what bananas were supposed to taste like. And why would you? Everyone knows what bananas taste like, and since the affected person never got seriously ill, they just assumed that everyone tasted bananas as spicy. Among other things, I was well into my teenage years before I found out that it doesn’t take most people well over an hour to fall asleep every night. When you don’t have context, it’s easy to feel like everyone is just managing obvious problems better than you are. Finding out the truth is double sided: you have the relief of knowing you’re not bad, you’re just different, but you can also feel cheated. I’ve had to deal with carrying rocks in my backpack this whole time, and their backpacks were empty?

As a final note, I want to talk about a bit in this excerpt that I'm unsatisfied with, but refuse to change.

["]And like, if I was secretly planning all this, that’s so much cooler than having to believe that everything about the way I work is–"

Benrey stopped himself, but seemed to realize it was already too late. He closed his mouth with a half-grumble, half-sigh.

"A mistake," he finished. "Being the awesome final boss was easier than accepting I don’t work."

The final line in this part doesn't really feel like something Benrey would say. It's hard to articulate exactly, but it feels melodramatic in a very DeviantArt Sad Wolf Drawing kind of way. It's a little too honest for Benrey, like he's breaking character. But I can see how that could make it hit even harder for some, y'know? Like he's letting his guard down. It's not my favorite line, but I won't touch it. It's fine the way it is.

Thanks so much for picking my brain with this. I will always talk about my work I love it so much

#gordon streamman #don't spell memory without me #ask #who killed this [benrey]

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hazukami · 2 years

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@catncore

hazuki, besides his other half, is the only other creature at current to whom he was able to speak. he was a danger to humanity right now at the frequency he is on and he is well aware of it. thats why he went through the process to dampen his frequency as he was attempting to try and lower his own frequency to dial to shibuya's base. it was not easy.

objects like him weren't meant to be dialed back. he was supposed to increase in volume and he was well aware his beloved composer was not going to be able to meet him where he was. he had to learn and fight to increase his own frequency now. he'd present him with new challenges every day he could.

that didn't mean that hanekoma was blind to hazuki's eyes. he could feel him staring down his composer like a predatory bird protecting one of his own. for good reason.

【 i can see your intent. 】 his true voice, undiluted is unnatural. it's unable to properly be perceived by humans without repercussions. he would unravel their souls if he had so much as sighed. to angels, he was a gift in terms of sound. something holy that sang at the throne of the lord, turned against the one to whom he had been created to it's own chosen god. a composer of his own choosing.

a weapon created to level planes gained sentience. a object of catastrophic danger in the hands of Shibuya's Composer.

【 get me back out of the picture and you'll have him all to yourself. threaten him for his own safety to take me out of the picture, again. how incredibly noble of you. 】

‘ How incredibly ignorant of you. Are you sure you got everything back? Your omnipotence is incredibly lacking. ’ And what came back to him was the Dominion, hallowed and ringing; feminine undertones with ominous alto. Haz will try to match the other’s signature if only to level the space they’re both occupying. Wouldn’t want to level Shinjuku a second time, now do they? ‘ I’m not selfish like you are. Do you know what laws of nature you’ve broken? I’m not talking about your personal vendetta’s with the heavens. The world and plane you claim to love so much can not handle even the sight of us least of all our full presence. ’ There’s a reason they’re crammed in these bodies. There’s a VERY good reason why only part of Hanekoma was SUPPOSE to be down here. ‘ And then dragging a human into something so incredibly dangerous? Can you not fathom what they’d do to him if they found out??? ’ Notes were turning sour and he finally closed the Grand Book in front of him with a thundering clap. He’d been scouring lines and lines of law for some kind of out for Joshua. Anything to save him from this raving mad apostate should they get caught. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The very thing he’s used to judge and rule lesser angels does not even have a footnote. He has half a mind to smack Apichisi up the head with it; all thousands of pounds of gold, leather, light and obsidian. Maybe that’ll damned get some sense into him-- ‘ He doesn’t deserve this. The world you exist in doesn’t either. You see laws as a chain but there’s a good reason they’re set in place. Don’t hurt people you claim to love because of your damned dissensions. ’ Breath in, breath out --

‘ For HIS sake I’m not going to say a word about this. ’ Technically he doesn’t have to. He will take being involved with Shinjuku very literally. He hadn’t stepped in Shibuya since this operation to save that fact. ‘ But my concern for you only extends from him. And if anything happens to him at all; ANYTHING ELSE; like I said before, I’m not afraid to call down someone far worse then the likes of Kubo. ’ He doesn’t make empty threats. Shinjuku’s Inversion was testament to that. If only Gabriel wasn’t so busy with the edges of Hell this would’ve been dealt with ages ago. But who has time for one scant rebellious angel -- ‘ I have nothing more to say to you, pariah. And anything more you say is a liability. Get out. ’

#. 🙦 ・ ⠀ask ・₊ ˚ ⋆#the-composer #catncore #how does joshua feel knowing hes so god damned cared about?#haz vc: my dude im literally trying to keep a city away from you #cause we cant get along

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ourxcountryadventure · 1 year

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March 18, 2023-March 19, 2023

Take Me Home, Country Roads

As of leaving Nashville, we had travelled 2378 km. Each kilometre was filled with fun and memories. We got up early to get a good start on the day as we were hopeful to get as far as just south of Detroit and so we left Nashville at 7:24 am.

The hour we gained traveling West from Gatlinburg, we would lose again so despite the time travel we engaged in Daylight Savings still got us.

The weather was lovely but still cool with a high of only 4 degrees through Kentucky. We did get to see some nice country and some interesting things on our travel home.

In Versailles Kentucky there is a large castle on the crest of a hill. Not exactly mirroring Versailles in France, but interesting it is a spa and inn. There are dozens of beautiful horse farms with thousands of feet of fences and rolling hills. The wind picked up into Ohio and man was it rocking the car.

Driving along we wondered about some of the origins of expressions relating to Ohio towns. Check this out:

“Holy Toledo” - The phrase, “Holy Toledo” supposedly comes from this era of Toledo’s grand church construction. One legend has it that the expression came from a visitor being driven up Collingwood Boulevard and, after seeing the dozen or so churches, temples, and Holy Rosary Cathedral, exclaimed, “Holy Toledo, you’ve got a lot of churches in this town.”

Others say that “Holy Toledo” was a sarcastic expression resulting from the high proportion of bars to churches. Prior to World War I, it was a standing joke that you could walk out of a church on one corner and enter a bar on the next.”

Rest stop Syl proved he is THAT person by parking directly beside the only other car on the huge parking lot.

“You’ll end up in Upper Sandusky” -still a mystery.

Lots of laughs on the road as we teased each other about parking spaces and car seats.

Lunch at the Cracker Barrel was a study of human nature. It was like a dinner theatre or perhaps a reality tv show is more apropos. It gave us something to do whilst waiting for our food.

We pulled over for the night at Monroe Michigan - we fell victim to Mom’s Google maps and her setting of no highways and traveled through Monroe proper. Oh my it was a pretty grim and despite the abundance of very busy cannabis stores (a shocking number of stores and customers!) seemed to be mostly on its way to being a shell of its former self. We came to the collection of the regular hotels and had to try 3 before we got lucky with the Town Place Suites. Julien said I was like Mary and Syl was like Joseph. When we asked what he meant he said there was no room at the Inn. 🤣

The Town Place Suites finally had a spot. There was a funny kid on reception who “sold” us the room by telling us how it was really expensive but if we wanted it he had one. The room was $140 USD and was lovely, large and bright. Definitely a good spot to stay on the drive home. We were all getting a bit punchy as we had been traveling so long. Syl and Jules stayed in and Mom and Dad and I went across the road to Monroe’s newest establishment. Dinner was less than stellar. Dad liked his prime rib but Mom and I had spaghetti that we had to send back to get heated up and when it arrived again it was lukewarm at best.

The next morning we were down and waiting for breakfast to be served at 7 am. There was a line up! We had a funny ride up in the elevator with Mom and Dad

Julien is on fire! So excited about his birthday tomorrow. Mom was pushing the closed button and caught dad in the door and then we stayed in one place as Mom didn’t push the button. 🤦🏼‍♀️

We were soon at the duty free and we went in to get some things before crossing the border and then switched drivers as Syl still not the best at the process. There was not even a spectre of a lineup and we were through in under 5 minutes and back in Canada!

As it was Sunday we started our travel tradition of finding Sunday mass. Mass attempt #1 took us to St Ursula after a tour of the backroads of Chatham Kent - yup Mom’s Google maps!We arrived early as mom had searched the wrong church. Everyone was very welcoming but we decided to leave instead of wait. This brought us to Sunday Mass attempt #2 at St Justin’s in London, Ontario. It was BEAUTIFUL! The church was filled to the brim with families and a great choir and an engaging priest YES! It was one of those times that our spiritual buckets were filled.

Lunch at On Route in Woodstock and then home.

The weather was cold but clear, and after warnings of snow fall that was a welcome relief.

Our adventures this week were wonderful, but it was lovely to get home.

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Divinity in Impurity

Request: Okay but what if I actually request solo Simeon and him moaning through prayers and being just totally repressed and painfully turned on because his precious lovely MC makes him go doki doki? And of course a shameful messy clean up :3c I love u bestieee ✨✨💋

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Couldn’t get this out of my head, I want him to be repressed and emotionally conflicted

Simeon enters the House of Lamentation, a gift bag in hand and he’s grateful none of the brothers are home. At least for Beel since the angel is sure that the gluttonous demon would’ve sniffed out the lovely baked goods that he carries. The home is quiet, but he knows you’re here. He sent you a message, confirming that you would be here. The house is empty and it’ll just be you and him, sharing a treat from his home and chatting away. It’s so rare to get you alone and while he’s glad that the brothers are there to protect you, they are also highly possessive, not letting a soul get near you and even less likely to allow someone to be alone with you for so long. There’s a light feeling in his chest, making his lungs expand with air, making him feel as if he’d float away from the simple joy of spending time with you. His cheeks are starting to hurt from the smile he has etched onto his face.

Guilt may lap at him for not informing Luke or Solomon of his whereabouts, but for just once, he wants to be alone with you. He wants to sit and talk about anything other than school work and how everyone can’t seem to focus on the task at hand. He wants to talk with you, learn more about you until you’re all that fills his mind. Or at least, occupy it.

He’s excited, standing at your door and he knocks, a smile on his face. Patience is something that he’s born with, having the time and mind to save those that stray from the path of light, to mentor the young angels, and to grant him his title. Yet, he can’t stay patient. He’s at your door, he can hear you hum and only a piece of wood separates you for him. His patience is thinned, eagerness taking over and he turns the knob to your door. All he wants to do is see you, to be unbothered as he spends time with you and listens to you talk. He wants you, that’s all he wants. The knob is cold underneath his hand, and he steps into your room, greeting you with a wide smile.

The bag tightens in his hands, his eyes widening slightly and smile falling. You stand in front of him, slightly turned away, a shirt pressed against your tummy, your chest bare and legs naked, the only clothing you have on is your underwear, shaped to your body. Your eyes are wide, a heavy flush takes over your face and he’s expecting you to yell, an apology already at his tongue, his eyes dipping for just a moment, catching the swell of your breasts, the lovely aroma of the cream you wear, your fingers that twitch ever so slightly as you grasp the shirt in your hand.

“Simeon?” You call, and he’s quick to dart his eyes back to meet yours- back to where they belong. “I appreciate you coming over, but could you-” you gesture your head towards the door- “you know, leave for a moment?” You smile at him, the shirt in your hands now fisted tightly.

“Ah, yes, of course.” He nods his head, trying painfully to grapes at his composure that is now slipping through his fingers. “I’m terribly sorry,” he mutters, exiting the door, the door clicking behind him.

Rather than sit there and wait, he glances at the door, knowing you’re behind it, your body untethered by cloth and bare. He leaves, his steps quick and quiet, walking away without so much as a goodbye. How could he possibly stay there? How could he look you in the eyes when he was so obviously staring at your body? How could he have done something so raw and primal of him- something that isn’t him.

He hadn’t meant to walk in on you while changing but- he bites his tongue, his face hot and an aching pain in stomach. There is no “buts” or ‘ifs’ or anything of the sort. He should have known to knock before he entered your room. He’s an angel, of course he should have knocked. It doesn’t matter if you two are close, it doesn’t excuse his action for being so forward. He was just so excited to go and see you, to gift you a treat sent from the Celestial Realm. Oh- the treat. It’s still in the bag, protected by a glass casing and covered with tissue papers that glitters under the light. He had forgotten to give it to you in his rush.

There’s no going back now, not when he saw you and had the audacity to even stare at you. He’s humiliated. His face burning and any breath that he has is taken from him, squeezed out of his body and forced out. He runs to the safety of his room, glad that no one seems to be home. He slams the door, his back pressed against the wood and when he closes his eyes, he can still see you- your body bare and nipples pert, your face holding a slight flush. He can see everything behind his eyes. The lock quickly snaps into place, his steps hurried as he walks toward the small table in his room.

He places the bag down on a table as he rests on the chair provided in his room. He leans back, the cushion soft underneath him. The wood is scratched at by his covered hands, his gaze focused on the wall. Simeon mumbles under his breath, an apology said to no one, his bottom lip teased by his teeth.

How could he possibly face you tomorrow? How could he do anything after what he just witnessed and did? He removes his gloves, dragging a free hand down his face, leaving the palm to cover his mouth. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he reaches for it in the same second, half hoping and half dreading that it’ll be you.

It is.

You ask where he went. You even apologize, saying that you mustn’t have heard him.

He laughs bitterly. You apologize to him. He was the one who entered your room without permission, invaded your trust and yet, you were the one who was apologizing. He simply leaves the message on read, not knowing what to tell you. Would you believe him if he told you that he had felt sick? Probably not, but for his sake, you would have, he’s sure of it.

He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes on the wall and there’s an unfamiliar itch in his body. Or rather an itch that he shouldn’t scratch at. Looking down only confirms his suspicion. He’s erect. Could it be from you? He sighs. What a silly question. Of course it is.

It’s wrong of him to even keep the image of you ingrained in his head. “Touch me, O Lord, and fill me with your light and your hope. Amen,” Simeon whispers under his breath, trying so desperately to keep his hands away from his erection. It pains him so, his body growing hotter by the second, sweat starting to bead and eyes watering at the tempting fate of actually touching himself to you. “Please Father,” he whispers, “grant me strength. I can’t- I am but a humble servant of yours. Please take away all these sinful thoughts.”

His chest trembles, his mouth dry and tongue thick. There’s a pressure against his stomach, his hands grip at his thighs, his head bowed and no matter what, you are just in his mind. Perhaps you’re the real sin, the real test in all of God’s Grand Plan. How is he supposed to be an angel when a human of all things is the one that is turning him to sin. The one being who has managed to ruin him, to unthread his wings and have him even think of reaching out to you and be selfish.

The unzipping of his zipper is loud, echoing in his ears, drowning out the holy blood that rushes inside of him. He lets out a sigh when his cock is free, the cool air in his room making contact with the hot flesh. When his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a sob. It’s filthy, but at the same time, it’s something that makes his mouth water and want more. You are the most beautiful sin, the one that he will risk everything for, for just a chance to touch you.

“Please forgive me,” he whispers. He’s unsure of who he’s speaking to. He doesn’t know if he’s asking father for forgiveness, unknowing if his message is reaching out, unknowing if he’s hidden from his light and his view; or if he’s apologizing to you, for walking in on you and now pleasuring himself to the thought of you.

You are all that invades his mind, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the ridges underneath his fingertips pulsing with heat. You stand bare in front of him, your body soft and blemished with little scars and ridges. He tightens his grip, his teeth clenched and jaw starting to ache. He’s touched your hand before, felt how soft you are, how loving your touch can be and he can only wonder if you're still gentle in bed. If you’d play the act of the blushing virgin under him, if you’d whimper and buck your hips if he were to kiss at your neck and cup your sex under his hand. You allowed him to stare, even if it was for just a moment, you had reelected so calmly, smiling at him, acting as if he were your lover who had seen your body countless times before. You are molded under God’s light, given freedom and kissed with the gentle lips of God, birthed and given existence, your path defined only by you, and you’ve allowed him to see that. You had acted so calmly, telling him with a smile if he could excuse himself for a bit. It’s almost as if you were used to that sort of thing. He stops in his movements, his eyes wide and breaths coming out in uneven pants. You live with demons, you must be used to that. To have such devils enter unannounced and watch you strip yourselves from your clothes.

The thought fills him with fury, his lips curled and brows knitted together. Yet, his hand continues to pump at his cock. The ridges near his cockhead tingle under his thumb, his head thrown back and eyes shut tightly.

His thighs tense, the muscles in him pulled taut as his grip tightens. “Something so tainted shouldn’t be the thing to witness you,” he hisses through his teeth, brows furrowed and hips bucking. “It’s outrageous that they’re the ones you live with. Beings so full-” his voice cracks, his head dipping down- “full of sin, touching and dirtying you.” His cockhead leaks with pearly white semen, dripping off his cock in heavy, thick strands.

When he closes his eyes, he can imagine you, dressed in white, spread before him, pleading with him to be gentle- you’d be the blushing virgin, ready to take in God’s Grace and kiss lips so pure that you’ll whine against him. You’ll be under him, your fingers lost in your sex as you tell him that you’ve been waiting for this moment. His pace quickens, his eyes closed as he thinks as to how you’d feel. Your thighs plump and your walls tight around his cock, your sex pulsing under his touch. You’d kiss him and he'd return it. He lets out a cracked moan, his breath sharp and head thrown back.

Beside him, his phone rings. He gives a slight turn, his clean hand going to lift the phone. A deep frown settles on his burning face as he realizes what he’s done and to who he’s done it to. Your image fills his phone, a call from you. He clears his throat, and quickly accepts your call.

“Simeon!” You sound worried and the tugs at his heartstrings and further cements his guilt. “I was worried, you didn’t reply to me. Are you okay?”

“I-” his voice cracks, and with a deeper flush, he clears his throat. He wonders if you know what he just did. He wonders if you would figure out what he’s doing as he listens to your voice. “Ah! I’m sorry, I thought I had replied to you but it seems like I hadn’t. I- uh,” he bites on his lip, trying in vain to muffle his moan- “My mistake. I- I just, I needed to get something,” his voice strains at the last word. “I’ll be over shortly. I promise.”

“Simeon,” the way you call his name makes him tug harder at his cock, “if this is about what you saw, then it’s okay. I know you. You didn’t mean to.” You sound so sweet, trying to comfort him while he’s doing something so perverse. “Listen, if you want, we can forget that that happened and start new, okay?”

“Really?” he breathes out, already closer to his high. “I would appreciate that. I-” His nail grazes over a vein and he lets out a deep groan.

“Simeon, you okay?” You say hurriedly. “You sound hurt.”

“I just bumped into a table,” he laughs breathlessly, his phone pressed roughly into his ear. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” he mumbles. “I’ll be over shortly, my dear. Just wait a moment.”

He barely has a chance to hear you say goodbye before he ends the call. “Fuck,” he groans, snapping his mouth close and turning his head, sliding his hand up and down his cock. Clicking noises fill the room, his cock pulsing in his hand, feeling as if it were about to burst. So heavy and foreign in his hand, Simeon pushes past the thought of his own hand touching himself, and tries to imagine yours. He thinks of your voice, of how you said his name, rushed and high, calling out to him.

You’re this glowing thing, something so pure but also full of sin, so human and lovely for it. You’d be this thing he was able to touch, this person who would love him and beg for touch. Under his wing, you’d be protected, cared and loved. Tears brim his eyes, trailing down his cheeks in hot flashes, sparking and disappearing into nothing before they have the chance to wet his hand. He’s already so close, his stomach knotting together, and body beginning to shake. As he releases, his free hand covers his mouth, muffling his moans that are drenched in cries. His seed is thick, coating his hand and leaving him in burning ropes. He looks at his hand covered in semen and he wonders if you would have been so kind to lick it off of him, to treat him as if it were your finest meal. His cock twitches at the thought, dribbling out more semen onto the seat.

Simeon lays in his afterglow, taking deep, slow breaths, his palm open, his seed dripping onto the floor in syrupy strands. The tear tracks begin to dry, his eyes still watery and the image of his ceiling blurry. With a wince, he stands, and grabs at his soft cock, walking to the nightstand and pulling out tissues. It’s humiliating to cleanse himself, to dry off his semen and to wash his hands. He can’t touch you with his hand, with a hand that had sullied the image of you in his mind, that had gripped at his own cock and covered himself in seed. The semen comes off of him in rushed waves, slipping down the drain and leaving his hand wet and clean as if there was nothing there to begin with. In the mirror, he is greeted by his reflection- messy hair and flushed cheeks, tears in his eyes and puffy lips from being bitten by. He wonders if you’d recognize this dirtied version of an angel when he greeted you. He wonders if you’d still hold his hand that grasped his cock not too long ago. With another message from you, he grabs the sweet he was supposed to bring, giving a glance to the gloves that rest on the arm of the chair. With a sigh, he decides to leave them there, hoping to hold your hand and memorize the feel of it

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me simeon smut #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon imagines #obey me simeon headcanons #obey me simeon x mc #obey me simeon #i want him to cry #i want him to be a big crier #but i also want him to be super gross and indulge in his sin #like he's pent up #let him ya know #go buck wild and stuff

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

The MC Accidentally Kisses the Brothers

Due to incredibly popular demand (and because it’s a cute prompt).

Lucifer

It was just a childish prank, but pretty much all of Satan’s pranks were childish at their core (even the more homicidal ones).

This one wasn’t even that bad in the grand scheme of things. The angry boi was just trying to see if he could get Lucifer to fall down the stairs...

...admittedly, saying it out loud makes it sound much more cruel than intended. But this is Lucifer we’re talking about. A tumble down a flight or two wouldn’t leave him too injured… Unfortunately for Satan, he wasn’t the only one who took a tumbling.

The plan was pretty simple, put an enchantment on the stairs to the Conference Hall, lay in wait, and trigger it right as Lucifer was leaving a meeting. He’s always the last to go, so it should have been foolproof.

But the MC hung back to leave with Lucifer that day and just so happened to jump forward right as Satan was timing his step… getting themselves thrown down along with him.

Fortunately for them both, the firstborn’s reflexes were astounding. He was already holding the MC in his demon form and cushioning their fall before they could even hit the first stair. And it was quite a long way down…

By the time they hit the bottom, Lucifer had them fully wrapped up in his wings and Satan couldn’t what had happened until they unfolded… whereupon he saw the MC laying on top of Lucifer with their lips far FAR too close together for his liking…

Yeah, that backfired pretty hard and Satan was left fuming over it for days… Not that Lucifer minded in the slightest.

Mammon

Sometimes when Mammon does his photoshoots he brings the MC along as one part cheerleader, one part pit crew. It’ll be their job to hold onto his stuff, make sure he has enough to drink, and generally stand there and be impressed by his awesomeness until they leave.

Well that day things had been going well… until a particularly nosy worker started hovering around the MC too much for Mammon’s liking.

He tried to put it past him, since he had a shoot to do and all, but he snapped about halfway through when the guy kept trying to force a conversation with the very not interested MC.

Oh, he was ready to tell him off. He made the photographer stop mid-shoot just so he could march over there himself and give that asshole a piece of his mind! He was going to absolutely tear him to shreds and then-!!

Okay, that didn’t exactly happen because right as he got up to the MC, ready to start shouting, our lovable moron tripped… again…

But unlike the first time, where he more or less face-planted the floor, this time he smacked lips first into a surprised MC in front of the jerk he was trying to scare off.

… Yeah. He meant to do that.

And that’s exactly how he played it off, keeping his lips right where they were and flipping the other guy off so he’d leave them alone (which, thankfully, he did).

Totally what he intended to do and he'll swear so to this day.

Leviathan

… how in the world do you mess up the Kabedon?

Levi had seen the move done hundreds of times before in anime. It’s a very simple concept: put someone up against a wall, put one of your hands by their head, and just lean. That’s it. Not rocket science.

Levi had been mentally preparing himself for this moment for days… He may or may not have even practiced this (very simple) move in his room countless times. He genuinely thought he was ready to try it on the MC.

So, on one of those rare days he went to RAD, he gave it a shot. He waited until he and the MC were walking alone together, got them up against the wall, annnnd…

...rather than touching the wall next to them, his hand completely missed any sort of hard surface because in his panic he stopped them right next to a blind corner…

Naturally, his body fell forward some but since there wasn’t that much space between them by that point he uh… he… well he now knows their preferred Chapstick.

No matter what the MC’s reaction ultimately was, he leapt away from them like he just licked an electric fence and bolted.

His embarrassment genuinely cannot be overstated... He practically broke a window in his attempt to get the hell out of there and back to his room, where he didn’t leave for three days straight… Poor Levi...

Satan

It started out as easily one of the best days of his life.

The MC, the exchange students, and the Royal Court had all decided to surprise him on his birthday with a Devildom-style cat cafe… Kitties were on practically every surface around him!

Admittedly, Satan had been pretty distracted throughout most of his time there. There were just so many kitties for him to see that he sort of forgot about the MC in the process…

So in order to get his attention a little, the MC thought it would be cute to pick up one of the furry bundles and hold it in front of their face, doing that little thing where you pretended to “talk” for the cat and even waved one of its little paws at him.

They hadn’t predicted that Satan would find the display utterly, heart-meltingly adorable...

He attempted to plant a kiss on top of the furry critter’s head at the exact time that the MC brought the cat down their face entirely.

It took Satan a second or two to register that his lips were not, in fact, on a cat. And when he pulled back to see the MC’s shocked expression, the full gravity of his actions smacked him in the face like a falling log…

Cue a flustered rush to apologize while the MC hid their face back behind the confused kitty… Getting an accidental kiss in front of the prince of Hell and literal angels was pretty dang embarrassing...

At least the incident was taken in good spirits by most of the people in attendance (minus Luke, who was desperately trying to give MC his bottle of holy water like it was pepper spray by that point).

Though after that point, Satan noticed that his “guests” kept passive-aggressively giving him cats until he was literally so buried in fluff he could barely move… probably not related, though. Probably.

Asmodeus

It was another party night with Asmo and the MC at the Fall having a good time.

Now, Asmo was no stranger to Demonus and other assorted demonic beverages. You could say his tolerance is decent enough, but get a few too many in him and he does start to get a little off…

And a drunk Asmo is a very troublesome Asmo.

The MC, bless their heart, was pretty much playing the sober babysitter to their demon friend when Asmo decided that he HAD to leave the club and get cupcakes right then. Being the good person they were, MC agreed to go with him, as long as he promised to stay with them and not wander off…

But they somehow managed to lose him within three blocks from the club. All they did was check their phone for directions and the guy bailed!!

Little did the MC know, while they were frantically searching for him Asmo hadn’t run away completely… He had just decided it was a great idea to play hide-and-seek at 2am and hid behind a nearby building.

It was his drunken giggling that eventually gave away his position, but he jumped out from behind the corner right as the MC was rounding it. Naturally, they both to collided. If hugging hadn’t been an instinctual action to Asmo by they point, they would have fallen down…

All they did ended up doing instead was getting caught in lip-lock due to Asmo’s sudden vice-grip.

Apparently he laughed and laughed all the way back to the House but his memory of it is pretty hazy… He’ll just have to get the MC to reenact it with him a few dozen times, that ought to jog his memory!

Beelzebub

The MC was helping Beel out with his workout yet again and things had been going well.

Since Beel is pretty much a one-man army, his weights and routine are usually waaay too advanced for any human to be able to handle. So the MC is less his spotter and more a casual supporter/motivator than anything else.

And motivation was just what they were trying to provide with a fun little experiment of theirs…

Ever heard of the “carrot-on-the-stick”? Well they decided to try something like that… literally. Just replace the carrot with a roast ham!

They put ham on a fishing pole, set Beel up on a treadmill, and dangled it closer or farther away based on his speed. In theory, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world... but in practice…?

Well. Someone should have told them not to stand in front of him during this little trial...

Their motivation experiment did work for a few minutes… But soon enough Beel’s stomach got the better of his (marginal) self-control. They just weren’t expecting him to leap over the top of the treadmill...!

The smart thing to do would have been to drop the fishing pole or to just keep it still so Beel could grab the meat, but the MC reflexively drew the pole back behind them… thus putting them right in Beel’s path instead.

And that’s how they ended up caged under lord knows how many pounds of Beelzebub, thankfully kissing their lips rather than trying to chew them off…

Needless to say, Beel climbed off of them, red as a cherry, and the MC let him have that ham before the two agreed to never try this again. Whoopsie!

Belphegor

Belphie likes sleep.

Belphie likes cuddles.

Belphie likes cuddling in his sleep.

Really this was bound to happen eventually…

The MC and Belphie were having a nice nap together in the attic and there wasn’t anything nefarious about it. Just two people snuggled up together in the same bed.

...snuggled up very close together in the same bed.

So close, in fact, that when the MC finally woke up and rolled over some to reposition themselves, they felt the soft lips of their companion brush up against their own.

They, of course, had the appropriate reaction of shock and embarrassment to this… but this cheeky fucker just smirked at them and let one eye slip open.

“What…? Is that it? It’ll take more than that to wake me up…”

Never mind the fact he was awake the whole time...

He really should have expected that pillow to the head, but after they struck the first blow, it was on now.

Don't worry. As it would turn out, an impromptu pillow fight also wakes him up just fine. Who'd have guessed?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reactions #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

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angelsndragons · 3 years

Text

fjord’s feelings for caduceus changed in episodes 98-99

by which i mean, fjord finally realized how special and important he is to caduceus, which in turn set the tone of their relationship for the rest of the campaign. buckle up, this is a long one.

not when fjord threw away his sword and went to caduceus instead of jester. or when caduceus presented him with the star razor. or after the citadel fight when caduceus gave him his holy symbol. i think things changed for fjord in episode 98-99, when caduceus saved his life and removed the orb.

this is going to require some context.

because here’s the thing: fjord’s always looking for the price, waiting for the catch or other shoe to drop. people caring for him because of him with no strings attached is unprecedented. vandren and the world taught fjord that love is conditional, that only if you hide what others would find ugly and make yourself useful to them will they deign to give you a scrap of affection. i don’t think vandren did this maliciously, mind you, it was just part of his worldview and fjord’s life up to and beyond that point supported it. we can see that right up to the end of the show, where fjord is terrified that vandren didn’t remember him or that he didn’t mean nearly as much to the man as vandren did to him.

so we have fjord, who learned to don masks and hide his truest self, including his best and worst aspects. while fjord made the nein into a coherent group, into a force, a crew, a family, even, he still waited for that other shoe to drop. waited for the day that they would reject him because he was no longer useful or because he pushed them too far. you can see this waiting all over the early campaign; he’s not looking for an excuse like caleb to cut and run but he anticipates nearly all the moments that almost fractured the nein, in spite of that low wisdom score. while jester carried the guilt of not being able to save molly, fjord carried the guilt of not protecting the group in that crucial moment. travis confirmed on talks that fjord’s biggest fear when he lost his powers the first time was that he would no longer be useful and be kicked out of the group.

that’s why fjord damn near broke down at the end of 72. the nein, no questions asked, with their standard level of snark, accepted that he was going to be a liability and kept him around anyway. armed him anyway. declared that he was no liability and that they would help him along until he could help himself and them again. this unconditional acceptance caught fjord completely off guard. it always does, really. because caduceus had said for months, an out of game half a year, that he was looking to reforge the sword as a gift for fjord. he said this to fjord’s face. he did not change course when he learned that the sword was a legendary blade forged by acolytes of the wildmother and moonweaver. the blade was still meant for fjord, even if fjord was still chained to uk’otoa. fjord extends his love and protection to the nein but is still not convinced the reverse is true. he was starting to believe it but he wasn’t quite there yet.

caduceus has a high enough wisdom to understand that’s fjord’s hang up even if he doesn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. that’s why he pulls fjord aside in ep 75 and tells him that he doesn’t have to choose the wildmother, that there are other gods and other ideas out there looking for a champion. fjord, who at this point considers wildmom his only option (travis says she’s the only one who’s shown the slightest interest in fjord and that’s why he’s gunning for her), is befuddled by caduceus and this whole talk, so much so the pair end up talking past each other for the next several episodes.

after fjord officially becomes a paladin, things between him and caduceus become fairly...unsettled compared to their previous interactions. they talk past each other more, they aren’t in sync enough to double team those social interactions they were just starting to get good at. things are just weird for a while. to me, that’s fjord waiting for the catch, waiting for caduceus to call in some favor or something like it. and he keeps getting confused when caduceus doesn’t. so he tries once or twice to follow in caduceus’ footsteps and do as he would instead. and it just makes things weirder. these two don’t have a moment together that doesn’t leave one of them confused or unsatisfied until ep 87, when caduceus gives fjord the holy symbol and inadvertently kicks off the next phase of their relationship. because here, caduceus tries to put them back on equal footing and fjord recognizes it. caduceus rejects framing their relationship as mentor/student and tells fjord he doesn’t need caduceus to give him answers. fjord is “well on his way.”

by defining what they aren’t, mentor/student, our two boys inadvertently ask the question, “so what are we?” honestly, it’s a question that the entire group grapples with in the 90s as they reintegrate yasha, as veth struggles with the question of changing back and whether she can stay with the nein, as beau tries to sacrifice herself for veth, as jester learns some uncomfortable truths about the traveler, as caduceus finds his family again. fjord and caduceus can easily define what they aren’t - not mentor/student, not brothers or cousins- but what they actually are stumps both of them.

their relationship doesn't look like any of their relationships with the others: beau is fjord's bro and first mate, caleb is fjord's complicated mirror and admiree, jester his crush and first person he learned to be vulnerable with, veth his antagonistic sibling. on caduceus' side, caleb is the one he looks to for a fellow project nerd and clear, unvarnished goals, beau and jester are the sisters caduceus misses, yasha the quiet beloved barbarian he understands better than the rest, and veth a mess he wants to help but can't. but fjord and caduceus' relationship is highly undefined at this point. notably undefined, beyond their newly shared connection to melora. at the dinner with essek, we get the stone bomb. and travis and fjord panic. like no, seriously, they spend the next four episodes low key panicking over this revelation. this ties back to fjord waiting for those other shoes to drop but it’s also more than that.

when it comes to destiny, fjord has always been the answer, the self made man, to both caduceus and caleb’s questions about destiny. he makes choices about who he is, who he wants to be, and takes actions towards those goals. he is one of those rare people who can wear many different masks, take on many different roles, while still maintaining his sense of self and becoming a fuller version of who he is. when I say fjord is the answer to destiny, what i mean is that he is what ioun said way back in c1 about Fate: mortals make choices and through those choices, destiny is fulfilled. he is the answer to caduceus' own growth from passive instrument waiting for someone to play him to active communicator in this conversation between gods and mortals. in this sense, fjord is what caduceus learns to be (this is exactly why caduceus rejects a mentor role; he has as much to learn from fjord as vice versa).

so for this coincidence to pop up, this idea that maybe fjord only had the illusion of choice to extend his service to the wildmother, that maybe somehow he was manipulated again, that there was some grand destiny pushing things and fjord had no say in it, yeah, i can see why fjord was low-key terrified. so is this what fjord and caduceus are: just some predestined grand fairy tale partnership neither of them have that much say in? episode 96 resoundingly rejects that label too. for one thing, none of the stones or clays treat fjord's last name as anything amazing or spectacular. for another, this string of episodes gives us caduceus at his most human. the terror of not knowing what happened to his family, the uncertainty of his homecoming, the relief of saving his family and home, the irritation at the way the chaos crew treats the temple, the playful attitude caduceus cultivates after, it's all on display. caduceus drops much of his placid exterior and willingly allows the nein to see sheer depth of emotion he has.

which leads me back to episode 98-99. uk’otoa’s agents come for fjord. and caduceus is pissed. travis and ashley both said on talks that they hadn’t really seen taliesin that pissed, that it was like someone had threatened an actual loved one of his. fjord dies. and comes back to an exhausted, still pissed off firbolg who is five seconds away from snapping archmage vess derogna’s head off for interrupting his prayer of healing. taliesin doesn’t even begin to relax until they start interrogating the dead fish people the next day. once caduceus confirms the ball is still in fjord, notably caduceus and caleb were the two who remembered, fjord starts asking for a way to remove it. he asks caduceus to start a commune with wildmom in tandem with jester’s commune with the traveler. caleb tells fjord that caduceus fought “very hard for you while you were down, i don’t know if he’s up to it.” having heard that, caduceus still tries, with his first divine intervention attempt of the campaign. and when jester figures out that greater restoration will work, caduceus pushes through his exhaustion, takes charge, and goes through a truly terrifying greater restoration with fjord to remove the ball. convulsing, seizing, shuddering, collapsing, etc.

in those moments, and in the quiet after when fjord confirms that he still has his powers, it finally hits him that yes, people can protect, fight, and love him for who he is alone. there is no chain or other shoe waiting to be dropped here. the wildmother is no uk’otoa, to punish or take power at a whim. caduceus will fight with everything he has and then some for fjord because he loves him (not for nothing does fjord only realizes the depths of jester’s feelings when she uses heal on him). who are caduceus and fjord to each other? they are people who will fight for one another and the others as far as they can. fjord says over and over again that he wants to protect the nein and look out for them because he cares for them. he demonstrates it over and over again as well. caduceus says basically the same thing; he wants everyone safe and happily on their way and will stay until they are. he demonstrates this all the time as well. this is, i think, the first time that he demonstrates his dedication so unequivocally, free of the artifice of duty, fully committed through love. fjord recognizes this in caduceus and caduceus does in fjord.

i say this is a turning point because, while they don’t really have another super in depth conversation alone together, these two start clocking each other and openly help and look out for each other. there’s an ease and intimacy to the relationship after this. fjord watching caduceus swim near vokodo’s lair, fjord being ready to hand over his armor to caduceus when it looks like his won’t be ready, fjord, caduceus, and beau plotting behind jester’s back to keep her safe from the traveler, the absolute offense fjord takes to eadwulf after he spoke to caduceus like that, fjord levels up in paladin after caduceus tells him he’s proud to know him, all the way to the end of the show when fjord shelters the clerics and tells them to finish lucien, we get little moments like these from both of them. hell, caduceus is the first person in the campaign to tell fjord directly that he loves him.

#cr #critical role #cr meta #fjorclay #wildbros #fjord #caduceus clay #prim did theirs so i'm doing mine #in b4 the wrap-up #just barely #and ran out of steam at the end #i'll expand on that later #gotta finish my vm v m9 meta #and the cockroach party analysis

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nox-artemis · 3 years

Text

Kentaro Miura

It took me awhile to get my thoughts in order. Honestly, as well intentioned as they are, a constant stream of fan tributes on Twitter and Tumblr more-or-less telling me how to process “The End” of Berserk with Miura’s death didn’t do a lot to console me, so I had to take some huge steps away from social media and only conversed my feelings with my other close Berserk fan-friends.

It was very surreal waking up yesterday morning to a friend messaging me simply saying, “did you hear the news?” When shit like that happens, I go onto my Google stories app and scroll through. I didn’t find anything really worth getting too upset over (maybe a bit sad that Queen Elizabeth II’s doggo died?) so it hit me to check my Twitter feed instead.

And that’s when I saw it.

We all know death is inevitable, and life is pretty much spent prolonging the point to that inevitability as well as preparing ourselves for when it happens to us or someone close to us. Being part of the Berserk fandom was the only time we all collectively had this on our mind not only for someone else but for someone we never met or really knew that much about. We only knew Miura through his magnum opus – and that was good enough for us. And no matter how much we discussed the worst-case scenario – pondering how the story would continue and how WE would continue – it still wasn’t enough to prepare us for this amount of shock. Hearing Miura had died and that the Berserk we know and love under his direct supervision is over truly felt like losing a long-lost friend.

It wasn’t just that the Berserk we know of is “over”, but that Miura didn’t have to die. He was only 54: not a young age, but not an old age either, especially by today’s standards. He could have seen the end to his magnum opus the way he envisioned it, yet he died of something so avoidable but is only brought about by a great deal of stress (from what I’ve read). It was always a morbid open rumor that so many of Miura’s infamous hiatuses were actually mental and/or physical health breaks, so the older or more conscious of us fans, while always eager and anxious for a new chapter, learned to not take them so personally. Miura was a spellbinding artist and storyteller, but he was also a human with his own life and conflicts that he was entitled to address at his own pace. This isn’t meant to blame anyone (at the very least, maybe to address some societal/industry issues), but it’s troubling enough to remind everyone – as the story of Berserk has demonstrated – that you need to take care of yourself physically and mentally, and while everyone struggles in life, you don’t have to struggle alone.

I always despised this weird cult of youth that insinuates that life isn’t worth pursuing once you hit your mid-thirties, and how some people so engulfed in their youth insist that they wouldn’t mind dying by the age of 50 or 60. It’s a shame when people live by that because there’s so much to live for beyond your youth – as I’ve learned, I only started buckling down when I transitioned into my thirties. Miura could have had a longer life ahead of him, going beyond Berserk and into his other endeavors, professional and personal, but that will unfortunately never happen now.

Everyone knows I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on Berserk. Most of you found out about me through my blogging several years ago, and I’m pretty proud that I was never the sort of fan that groveled at Miura’s feet and treated Berserk as some untouchable holy book: there were things I disliked about Berserk and things that disappointed me about Miura’s writing, but there were SO MANY MORE THINGS that I loved about Berserk and was proud of Miura for, and I wished him to continue his advancement in narrative growth. He did so and we watched it happened.

And, by meeting so many friends and acquaintances through the fandom, we saw a lot in ourselves change too. It’s surreal how we always joked that it would be one of us fans who would die before Berserk ended or the worst-case scenario of Miura dying; maybe some of us secretly preferred for that happen. But when we weren’t waiting around for another chapter… look at how much we’ve done with our lives! We graduated high school, undergrad, grad school, started and advanced our careers, traveled the world, got together, popped out a kid or two!... And while we experienced a lot of downfalls and tragedies that coincide, can you believe how much we have accomplished together?

We were all personally inspired, motivated, persuaded by Berserk in different ways: a lot of us were inspired for the better and admittedly, some for the not-as-good (if spending countless hours on Tumblr has taught me, there were definitely some toxic fan takeaways that had to be confronted). I’m not going to go to the point of saying that I now live my life by Berserk’s philosophy to a T or live as a reflection of certain characters (because I’m pretty sure that Miura was trying to tell us to NOT live your life like some particular characters) but it certainly helped to brings some aspects of life and existence into perspective, through the lenses of so many characters. Berserk also inspired me to write more, an already favorite pastime of mine, and how I should go about writing and planning a story, taking cues from Berserk on how to and how NOT to write and approach things in my own way, which I think is for the best in the long run. I can only dream that I’ll be published someday – which doesn’t have to be a pipe dream because it’s still much more possible than impossible. And so many other have done the same, creating our own stories and works.

And OF COURSE Berserk inspired me to be a little bit badass from time to time in moments of frivolity and seriousness – but it reminds us all that being badass and being a kinder person who tries to become the best version of themselves are not mutually exclusive. We definitely need more of that in today’s world.

We all made our own little bonfires of dreams happen, and because of Berserk existing, there will be a lot more beginnings than endings, and I don’t see a lot of bonfires being extinguished anytime soon. Miura poured his heart and soul into Berserk and its characters, and while he has passed on, his characters and lessons will live on through us and everything we create and how we live our lives (hopefully for the better).

I was happy to share all of my thoughts with you all – and I’ll continue to do so, since the mythos of Berserk has been a major backdrop of my creative mind for over fifteen years now and there is still so much to dissect and speculate. Personally, I don’t see Berserk ending just yet, if only because I’d be surprised that Miura or his publisher didn’t have some Operation London Bridge type plan in place in the event that this happened (Berserk is, after all, a major title that most likely brings Young Animal a lot of revenue). Again, I never treated Miura or Berserk as divine untouchables, so if there are plans in place to continue Berserk without Miura (BUT with his permission) or just on how to wrap up the story to give it a fulfilling conclusion, I personally would be okay with it (as a friend of mine put it, it’d be more of a tribute than an imitation). Going beyond our lifetimes, works will continue to be interpreted and reinterpreted as they have since time immemorial; perhaps Berserk will reach that point someday.

Honestly, and many have thought so too, Berserk was also meant to be cosmic level in both scale and concept. The plot is so grand and Byzantine that, even under Miura’s direct supervision, I always had a hard time envisioning how a story of this scale would conclude. As much as we love to hate him, a final showdown between Guts and Griffith seems too simple, too “good vs. evil”-esque for Berserk. Maybe having a low-key, vague but optimistic and bittersweet wrap up is what is best for Guts, Casca, and their new-found family. But that’s just another one of my fan speculations.

Regardless or what is to become of Berserk now, I think it’s safe to give adulations. We all came across Berserk at different times in our lives and stuck with the story for different reasons. For some of us, it was just another series that our friend from the campus anime club recommended to us; for others, we were drawn in from a morbid curiosity of its dark notoriety in anime circles. A few of us read for the gratuitous violence and the clout (because we all know you’re so deep and hardcore [/sar]), but a lot more of us read for the journey and the characters that we became a part of. The heaviness of Berserk made us confront a lot of trauma and even relive our own. For some of us, understandably, it was not a good idea to dive deeper (and maybe somethings could have been handled better); for the rest of us, it helped us cope, if not entirely through the story itself, than through the support network we made for ourselves in this fandom and its many realms (some realms, I argue, are more caring and nurturing than others).

From time to time, I always wonder if I would ever “grow out” of Berserk. There were indeed several times I took a step away from fandom and have tried to reduce my exposure to the story - but I always came back in some way, because the essence of Berserk has never left me and never will. Humorously I envisioned myself actually forgetting about Berserk for several decades, decades in which I work at my career, raise my family, mourn my elders, but continue living my life, only to go on the future internet in my mid-50s to find out… Miura is STILL working on that ending, sitting at his desk in the same pose as that famous monochrome capture of him, only he’s grayed and wrinkled, like the great Miyazaki.

The possibility of that future is over, but there are so many others.

#berserk #berserk stuff #kentaro miura #rip kentaro miura

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bratkook · 3 years

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one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit.

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face.

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured.

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs.

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face.

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place.

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea.

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare.

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain.

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder.

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this.

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot.

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on.

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you.

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him.

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.”

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry.

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression.

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more.

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind.

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face.

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon.

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city.

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him.

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture.

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again.

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work.

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation.

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again.

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

#namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts fics #new #teaser

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cassianus · 1 month

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“In St. Isaac the Syrian, I have encountered someone like no other. Even among the Fathers, East and West, whom I have engaged over these past thirty years, Isaac stands alone; which admittedly is to say a lot. When I first picked up his Ascetical Homilies and heard them described thus: "If all the writings of the desert fathers which teach us concerning watchfulness and prayer were lost and the writings of Abba Isaac the Syrian alone survived, they would suffice to teach one from the beginning to end concerning the life of stillness and prayer. They are the Alpha and Omega of the life of watchfulness and interior prayer, and alone suffice to guide one from his first steps to perfection," I was certainly intrigued but thought it simply to be hyperbole. Of all the the Fathers we have studied in groups at the Oratory, St. Isaac (unfamiliar in name and stature) garnered the least amount of interest; especially in comparison to the somewhat better known Cassian and Climacus. His style of writing was certainly different from the others; not Conferences or Steps but rather Homilies. They were exhortative, meant to set the heart afire for the love of God; not simply to be read or studied but to be received as a calling as sure and as strong as the Lord's "Follow Me". As true homilies, they arose from a heart that had experienced that call and had found his life turned upside down; only then to discover true Life.

"The best is of everything the measure." Man is the measure - the holy person. And St. Isaac is a measure for man, for life and art and action.

He does not argue with anyone. He provides opportunities and waits. He speaks the truths and leaves it to work within us.

It seems that when he was born, he was baptized. He was baptized indeed into the death of Jesus. And he pursued a way of life that surpasses life and death.

Archimandrite Vasileios

Abbot of Iveron Monastery, Mount Athos

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

Okay I just wanna say that I really love your writing!!! Hope you and chimmy are doing well! Can I request a drabble with merman tae and y/n's a human and they're childhood besties and tae likes her but she's a dumb little bean. I just realised how many 'ands' are in that sentence. If you don't like it then...ahem know that I still love you!!! 💖💖💖

pearl of mine

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: merman!tae is the reason why tourists can’t find any more shells and pearls in the shore, y/n owns more beach houses than deduction skills, and concierge!yoongi’s the hero :D // gif from pinterest

notes: are u kidding me baby i love it AND you!!!! chimmy barks his regards <3

“hmm? where’s barnacle boy?”

alright there goes your peace and quiet

it’s very nice to know that where yoongi is, translates to meaning that all your peaceful thoughts automatically aren’t there

if he’s not manning the concierge, it means he’s there keeping you company!!

annoying you

your ten minutes of bliss of just having your calves dipped into the water is interrupted now but it’s ok!!

after all, yoongi’s ur right-hand man anyways!! he’s the one who keeps track of everything and you’re so close to convicing your dad to put him in the family will too

you can’t manage your family business all by yourself!! how exactly are you gonna manage fIVE of the hotels that your parents have put under your care by yourself

five of the seventeen hotels that your family owns..,.,.,

（；＿；）

your dad gives you tOO much trust and he believes in you like actually a lot

a lot more than you could ever trust yourself tbh

he doesn’t want you to take charge only when he retires or dies!! you’re his little dove and he wants you to be as immersed in your family’s group of companies

it’s generous but of course it’s hectic

which is why you’re spearheading the handling of the actual main hotel he’s put under you!!

and the rest of the less major ones, you’ve had to go through a long and tedious process for so you could find an actual trustable manager and supervisor that wouldn’t commit embezzlement and-

yoongi’s about to scare you again by nudging your lower back with his foot, but you’re ahead of him when you nip his ankle with your nails

“... it’s mermaid man.”

he scoffs out a laugh because what was supposed to be a teasing nudge for your friend that’s clearly nOT human, turned to your joke instead of his

he doesn’t need to look at his watch to know what time it was by then bc he’s practically memorized the skies and the tide at this point

every 5:20 in the afternoon, you and taehyung would meet here!!

you come outside at exactly 4:50 to give yourself some leeway into preparing whatever you’d be giving him or rather, pestering yoongi what you think you should give him for that afternoon

it doesn’t necessarily have to be grand! on most days you just make him waffles without the crusty edges (he likes it the most when it’s so hot that it was still soft and jiggly) and the filling would be whatever food he hasn’t tried yet

.... basically.......... almost everything

but now it’s 5:23 and he could tell with how the water didn’t settle to the wooden platform as well as it did when it was 5:20

yoongi could actually TELL the difference because he’s seen you do this for the four years he’s been working here

the hotel had three wings — the shore wing, the balcony-sturdy-treehouse-type of wing, and the cabana wing

you bounce all around the place because naturally, you aRE the boss here, but afternoons really were just reserved for the cabana wing

where there’s a staff cabana by one of the wooden paths that lead to it, and one specifically reserved for you and probably yoongi now lmao bc he wouldn’t take a nap anywhere else

it’s you just sitting by the deck of your cabana that houses your too-expensive waffle maker, and a cozy blanket then deck pillows outside where you lay when taehyung’s there perched by the wood

you easily have three plates always, and yoongi just goes a lil bit soft that you let him intrude your routine with the merman

but today, all that highLy seems unlikely

“he’s totally not coming,” he exaggerates all in one breath, not having the decency to wait bc he’s stuffing his cheeks full with waffles

everything’s a hit or miss with mermaid man anyways and yoongi would rather nOT try his adventures of waffles with buttered rice in between no thank u

so that’s why he’s sticking with his trusty s’mores waffle!!! :D

put chocolate spread in between while it’s STILL in the pan, then tiny little marshmallows with crushed graham crackers and 10/10 u will see heaven

he gets crumbs on your sundress and you barely even grimace because you’re used to yoongi and all his yoongi-ness at this point

“yes he is! we’ve been doing this everyday without fail for like, twelve years already.”

you know what.,.,., maybe even longer than twelve years

this one’s marked on your calendar you can just SNIFF it

what you distinctly remember is your dad picking you up from school then suddenly deciding that he’ll teach you the ropes

you knew what everything was coming to because suddenly, you’d take your daily after-school snacks at the hotel

and then your weekends were slowly merging into memorizing names and amenities

... and then sitting by your dad’s chair with a juicebox when he had meetings

then before you even realize, you’re managing five hotels under your name and a particularly large one mainly

it was when you’ve had a suckish day at school because you cannot seem to just gET the multiplication table of 7 and your dad’s chasing after you again so you could get to see the fire escape plans as “fun little puzzles!!”

ya know what maybe you should go outside

it didn’t exactly click into your young mind that holy shit your family’s LOADED

all you knew was that people greeted you left and right even if you didn’t know them and you’d always be offered stuff you didn’t even ask for :D

all you cared about was skipping by the cabanas but holding by the rope on the side bc what if you fell lmao

yet what did fall to the water beside you was your bracelet!!!

:((

a red, single-threaded, string bracelet from your wrist that must’ve gotten loose

it’s something you’ve never took off and the sheer panic in your mind was tOO HIGH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

even before you could call out to your dad though, or any of the staff that would literally drop everything to help you, something just shifts in the water

it’s too quick for you to even decipher and the multiplication table of 7 would’ve been easier to figure out

the moment you crouch by the end of the deck was when you see it aGAIN

there’s this incredibly pretty boy that emerges from the water, only his shoulders up to his head peeking out

he most certainly didn’t look... from around here tho

your attention’s immediately fixated on your bracelet, the one on his mouth as he only tilts his head when you do the same, an eager squeal breaking him out

hold on

wait a second

you’ve seen this in the tv sometimes!!! they were uh creatures that liked being by themselves in the sea

lol which is basically every sea creature

but the narrator said something about them looking like humans???

AND BESIDES

you overhear your dad talking about them sometimes

AND THEN IT HITS

THE HANDSOME FACE!! THE SHINY PRETTY-

up and age???

opened etch????

how do u spell that again

THE TAIL!!! THE PRETTY TAIL LOOKING LIKE THING!!!

“o-oh!! you’re-...”

“t-taehyung...?”

the boy who looks like your age replies, looking unsure of himself yet didn’t want to disappoint you either

you meant merman but it’s okay!!

your hands retrieve the bracelet from his mouth, a little giggle at the complexity of the situation

he was completely sold at that

this was his first human!!! his first actual human interaction and it wasn’t really bad as what his brothers painted out to be

you and taehyung took off from then and ya know what,,, maybe you even start purposefully dropping things in the water if you feel a little impatient that he hasn’t peeked his head yet

and yes yes that’s a completely iRRESPONSIBLE thing and your dad stopped you before you could possibly throw out a whole backpack into the water

which was weird for him to look at because there’s absolutely no one he could see in the water

it was a routine that not one of you ever skipped on once!!

even if you were sick and tae thinks that it’s the most pathetic thing because he doesn’t EVER get sick??? sue him for having a cold because he’s in the water 24/7 yea

even if one was late and wouldn’t be able to see the other, there would be an item placed by the deck as proof that they were indeed there!!

tae sometimes leaves a random conch shell or even seaweed in the shape of a heart when he’s swamped with his arrangements

even if there’s a storm, which taehyung absolutely loves because the water’s all cold!!! and it gives him a fun little ride when the waves are all wonky

you leave out a lunchbox that’s snug in a fixed mailbox (you forced yoongi to attach it) by the side of the deck poles and that would count as your attendance

“yes he is! we’ve been doing this everyday without fail for like, twelve years already.”

you are totally UNBELIEVABLE

yoongi snorts, almost choking on his waffles with how hard he did it

“and you’re twelve years dumb.”

ok now you take offense

huh???

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you can’t be any more clueless, can you??

as if on cue, there’s the familar flop and splash that you nudge yoongi to be in his best behavior

taehyung makes his afternoon appearance by outlandishly doing his trick in the air, undoubtedly giving you a splash you’re used to by now

he literally does not care at the thought of anyone possible seeing him

besides, they physically can’t anyway because there’s a spell cast onto the area, allowing nobody to see them besides you

... and yoongi ://

he’s rather grand with his gestures and his words and even before taehyung knew the common lingo on ground, you could tell he was a little more stubborn with his strong expressions

after all, taehyung’s a prince at sea but at land.,.,.,.

<3 well <3

“i’m here!”

taehyung bEAMS radiantly, making you crouch and hold out your hands, him putting his face out immediately for you to squish

“oh, oh! i got you something, y/n!”

he seems to remember out of the blue in the middle of chewing his waffles, yoongi having to suppress another sigh

the prettiest pearl necklace :-)

“tae i already told you that-...”

you’re about to start berating him again with the gifts because what seemed to be so ordinary for him is very fAR from yours

you pout and tae only pushes the necklce to you further, not taking no for answer when he had to squint his eyes extra hard to look for the pearls this morning

to be honest you have sO much jewelry from taehyung

the common theme of it was of course they’re something you could get at sEA

and whenever people ask you about them, u have no idea how to tell where you got them

today’s pearl necklace was a little different — something more dainty and smaller and wraps around your neck like a choker would, a little more suited for everyday wear

“thank you!!!”

you smooch taehyung on the cheek extra quick and it takes every fiber in his tail to stop squealing

yoongi watches you two be disgustingly sweet and PLATONIC yet again, and he could only zero in on the pearl necklace around your neck

that is the fifth time this week

that is the fifth set of pearls you’ve gotten this week

normally you’d get a pearl every now and then and the often minuature sand sculptures

but this week changes the wHOLE ball game

“do you want a pearl ring?”

taehyung wiggles his eyebrows, boxy smile on full display and he looks breathtaking in the golden hours that you immediately poke his cheek

yoongi’s eyes widen because that’s literally-

you don’t seem to find the weight on his question because you only let out a non-commital sound and whisk him away on another conversation about his day

he’s long since dropped out of yours and taehyung’s conversation, going back to the concierge because his presence is required

and he still can’t shake off how CLUELESS you are

it’s when the night gets a little more chilly and you could see taehyung go beneath the water more often, taking it as a sign that he’s going back and his brothers are looking for him

“night-night, tae.”

you offer the top of his head a kiss, rushing back to the cabana to put on your coat and right on time, you miss the way taehyung’s eyes are bigger than a goldfish’s

(@_@)

oh my god

oh my fucking god

taehyung really hATES you

he hates you so much!!!!

SO SO MUCH

he resigns back into the water and he doesn’t even move at all

just defeatedly sits on the seabed and his aura effectively puts off everything around him

his heart’s beyond heavy and his eyes sting and he never wants to resurface ever again

he’s trying not to get upset too much because his emotions have the capacity of changing the tide and it would literally resonate through the seas if he gets even more sad

taehyung’s trying to rEPRESS everything back in but it’s no use :((

“hey, hey, calm down. what’s wrong?”

his brother immediately swims to his side at the first slight tremor he felt, having only little trouble in locating him

“i-i asked y/n if she wanted a pearl-...” tae stutters and he has to physically hold his chest to not sOB at your name, an insurmountable feeling of dread at his chest

yeah, you! namjoon knows you

in fact all his brothers know you and you’ve met each other multiple times, but not as often as you and tae did

they don’t need to see you everyday to know that taehyung is head over tails in LOVE with you

the mention of you and their brother’s gifts in the same sentence isn’t anything new

“okay? but you give her pearls all the time? and-”

“... ring.”

pearl ring

“yeah? and what did she say?”

joon himself tries to quell the distress he feels because taehyung’s emotions are morE than potent to affect to everyone, most especially his brothers

he sees the others swimming to them from afar, worried frowns already on their faces and namjoon doesn’t want to panic even more

“nothing!! she said nOTHING!!!!”

jungkook tilts his head, cheeks puffed out as he tries to diffuse the situation

“but tae, it could mean-...”

“nothing. y/n absolutely wants nothing to do with me!”

taehyung half-huffs and half-sobs, immediately swimming past them that leaves them confused and with a headache

this was definitely going to be a problem

it already is

today has got to be the slowest day ever

the water is so still and timid

oh my god it literally just looks like tap water in a bathtub that’s untouched

you’ve noticed in the first thing in the morning

was it nORMAL to have the water so still???? practically no waves at all??? not even ripples????

you must be losing your mind right

you dragged yoongi from the concierge desk all the way outside

he squints his eyes because the water.... is definitely not supposed to be this way....

“huh. now that’s just odd.”

some of your patrons don’t seem to mind at all because that just means they could go take their pictures without waves putting their phones at risk

but nO

most especially the swimmers n the surfers and even the lifeguard are all ????

everyone’s collectively looking at the water

yoongi takes a twig and just pokes at it to go do ATLEAST something, but even the ripples it produces are mundane

the water is too still and it makes you miss the one who makes it all better

you spend the better part of your whole day in your sundress and hanging around the cabana, yoongi scrunching his nose up at the fact that he seemed to be more active than the actual hotelier here today

“taehyung doesn’t go up for another seven hours, y’know?”

he finds you sitting by the edge of the deck, feet vigorously splashing around the water without any resistance at all that it feels so unnerving

“yea i know that... just wanted to hang out with him.”

you murmur out the last part, making yoongs do a double-take at his boss who was never this soft-spoken

“and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since childhood? sit by the edge then hang out?”

he wants to push a couple of buttons to get you out of your phase of the day today, but he only gets some insistent nodding and nothing more

“that’s so mundane. that’s literally a decade-long routine!!”

“it’s a routine i don’t mind!!”

and that’s true

it’s a routine you want to do with the rest of your life because it now feels like the equivalent of showering basically

you feel so incomplete without it and satisfaction doesn’t settle on your bones until you do it with taehyung :D

“surely, there must be sOME reason for taehyung to not get bored from doing the same thing with you, right?”

alright one more nudge

you’re considerably more perky now that’s for sure

but that doesn’t mean any less clueless unfortunately

“must be the food!!”

oh my god,,,,,, u are so dumb

he leaves you alone and you don’t even question it because you’re too busy waiting for taehyung

you expect the tide to change when it’s already noon but really, nothing happens still

5:20 passes and he still isn’t there

it’s time for dinner and yoongi has to fetch you aLL the way from the other side of the wings he needed to supervised because you’re spending all your time waiting

you were supposed to have dinner with staff tonight but you don’t even think twice in telling him to go eat without you, giving the company card more than eagerly

“don’t you think it’s time to go home?”

yoongi pipes up when they’ve finished dinner and you’re still there

he feels so sorry for you :((

“w-what if he shows up last minute?”

there’s still hope in your voice and he doesn’t want to taint it as much as people

“hey. they need sleep too. you should go get some for yourself too, okay? now just leave a cookie or something,” he has to pry you off the deck himself, not wanting to feel any more sorry for you because you’re starting to tremble with how chilly the air is

taehyung doesn’t resurface the next day

or the next

and the day after that

taehyung doesn’t show up the entire week.

you’re worried OUT of your mind and you’re tempted to just take your dad’s yacht and sail across the water to try and look for him

or oR maybe you should get one of the divers to try and look for him!!!! but no that wouldn’t work, would it??

how about you go and look for tae yourself???

yoongi’s been busy with the hotel bc the actual hotelier of it (read: you) is too busy MOPING

you’ve ditched your sundresses and waited in hoodies and sweatpants you could roll up in the morning and roll down at night to wait for him

most people don’t even recognize you as the owner and they just walk rIGHT past you when they see you in the hallways

you’ve also been stress-making waffles that you reek of the batter and butter, the staff now having an abundance of experimental ones that you’ve made

you’re definitely not okay

“uh y/n you really rEALLY need to go to sleep.,.,”

yoongi gapes at you when he visits you at the cabana, clearing his schedule out to go watch over you and bc your dad won’t sit still with how unkempt you’ve been

he gestures to the hammock you’ve always begged him to put up, but his handiwork’s wASTED because you don’t even spend more than five seconds looking at it

you should be screaming with glee by now :((

how in the world could he possibly distract you from crushing sadness and worry

he’s been brainstorming the past week and his head’s even more hollow than the decorative coconuts in the gift shop

... wait a minute

hey this has got to be his most stupid idea but the one with the most promising results!!!!!

11/10 risky but it’s the cLOSEST he could get!!

“hey do you wanna do something stupid??”

your eyes glance at him immediately because it’s the first question he’s ever asked you besides if you’re okay or when was the last time you slept or when do you intend on picking yourself up

yoongi fishes for his tablet and whips up a video immediately, only taking minutes for him to explain and seconds for you to agree

it’s what made you end up this way

it’s the reason in your swimsuit with your legs all the way inside a duvet cover and the corners of it knotted tightly on your waist

you don’t know how yoongi’s managed to convince you to race him in swimming with your whole lower body inside a king-sized dUVET cover from one of the cabanas whose guests are arriving in an hour, but here you are lmao

“first one to the furthest cabana wins, alright?”

he practically yelps in explaining in an effort to hype you up and a hundred dollars dOES seem to make him excited himself

you’re buzzing for the first time in the week and it’s the panicked shoves you try to give each other before starting that kicks you off in an eager mood

“GO!”

you immediately dive in and you don’t expect the heaviness of your makeshift tail behind you, momentarily cussing yourself because wHY on earth did you get the high-quality ones smh ://

oh my god this is so fucking stupid and oddly enough, you’re ENJOYING it

you can’t exactly paddle your legs fluidly like the times when they aren’t wrapped in a duvet, and the distance of the last cabana seems so tiring now that u think about it

yoongi’s already ahead and you don’t get HOW has he managed to come that far???

also not to mention that the gap between the two of you is large and now you’re just struggling to even move

also doesn’t help oNE bit with how good of a handyman yoongi also is because that is one secure knot you got there sir

it’s only dawning in you that you’re NOT well-versed in swimming!!

not even close to an expert!!! all you know are the basics

but the basics seem hard to even apply when you’re dragging a king-sized duvet cover by your legs

you’d expect more skills from someone whose family owns water-centric properties bUT NO <3

you’re flailing almost to the bottom and your eyes sting then your limbs feel heavy

you’re not necessarily drowning either, it just feels so difficult to swim back up

you’re about to try again and boost yourself up by pushing from the floor but then suddenly you’re being HAULED BACK UP

you have no chance to even try and get away because you know that the hand around your waist aren’t yoongi’s

“are you out of your goddamn mind???”

you instinctively take a big gulp of air when you come up the surface, legs fluttering now that you have some type of support to keep you up

“why would you do this?? who did this??”

the deep voice only registers in you seconds later that it’s taehyung who’s in front of you and holding you up, staring you down intensely

your puzzlement only frustrates him even more, going back down while keeping his hands on your waist before he untangles the duvet cover by your legs rather quickly and powerfully

he emerges back up and he’s looking at you with sO much stress that you wanna dive back down

“y-yoo-...”

you don’t even manage to finish speaking before taehyung snaps his gaze away from you and really yELLS

“YOONGI!!!”

as if he didn’t manage to startle you enough, he looks back at you and pats at you all over out of instinct, wanting to know if you’re hurt by any means

you’re more shocked but it’s over the fact that you’re finally seeing him again

this isn’t the first time you’ve swam with taehyung but this IS the first time in this context

you’ve never been this close to him either and you’re out of breath just by looking at him

he doesn’t seem to share the sentiment though because he looks like he’s gonna pull his hair out in both relief and frustration

“oh my god! i fucking thought that my soulmate would die in a — i-in a bedsheet!”

you are so ridiculous that it actually makes his heart clench

he intentionally didn’t come to see you for a week because he was so hurt over your rejection

he did see you from a distance and he also has a particular someone to watch over you, but he never imagined that you’d be doing THIS

his heart just minutes ago was beating against his ribcage because his soulmate was in danger!!! he physically and literally cannot drown but that’s what it felt like

“i’m your soulmate?”

your breathless gasp explains it all

oh so...

oh my god how could you have nOT known this all along???

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OBLIVIOUS

taehyung probably acted this way and most especially that way when he ignored you!!!

you vaguely remember yoongi telling you that pearls PROBABLY mean a lot to taehyung even if the tone he’s used on you is beyond certain

the pearl ring was meant for courting!!!

that explains why yoongi gasped and looked at you inrcredulously!!!!

no he’s been courting you ALL this time

you are so..... insuffeable

“i’m so sorry!!”

you’ve crammed in twelve years of experience into two minutes of critical thinking, throwing your arms around taehyung and burying your face into his neck

he grunts a bit at that but he’s not complaining at all

“you mUST hate me,” you frown and the need to cry overpowers you, taehyung sensing it again which is why he immediately strokes your nape in comfort

“i could never.”

the waves come back and even if they’re present, the water was calming

you’re too entranced with tae and your realizations to even notice that the water felt so much better compared to when it was dead still

it’s when you hear a familiar set of giggles that you sNAP your head in anger

yOONGI????

yoongi’s much more near you now, floating and floating until you make the move to look down and see not a duvet cover, but rather a tangerine-colored tail by him

all you’ve been doing this day is squeaking

tae, although still a lil bit mad at yoongi because he’s endangered you, smiles at his informant who’s helped make him last through the week

“half-merman!! i’m sorry if i didn’t tell you sooner, y/n. but since tae’s full, that’s the reason he could only come on land once a month! and since i’m half, i could only come underwater once a month!!”

he grins at his explanation he’s been trying to piece together for the last couple of months

ok maybe years

it probably explained to why it’s no accident that he’s clicked with you instantly and he trusts you with his whole life!! you were truly a gentle human that’s an all-rounder

also explains to why yoongi wasn’t all THAT shocked when you brought him out one day on his first year of working and pleaded taehyung to rise up with only even his eyes blinking up at him

no wonder tae warmed up to yoongi quick even if he did say he had distrust with majority of humans!!

how could you not doubt for one second that it’s the reason why he’s always been really good at swimming too and holding his breath

yoongi chose his day of the month to be today because you were so down in the dumps, and aLSO for the reasoning that he missed the boys so that’s why he’s going down there in a heartbeat

taehyung pinches at your thigh, a bright grin on your face when you come face to face with him after waving yoongi goodbye

“are you gonna make me wait another twelve years more?”

he pecks your cheek and it doesn’t feel platonic anymore, a giddy smile in realization that you’ve finally come to your senses

“would you mind?”

://

the teasing lilt in your voice doesn’t seem to go anywhere anytime soon hee-hee

“maybe a little but-“

“no more waiting.”

you kiss taehyung and almost launch yourself at him, savoring the taste of him on your tongue that he has to grip your thighs around his waist a little tighter

yeah ur a little slow but ur spirits are high!! you’re on the right direction!!

you’re definitely worth waiting for

and panicking over

and courting

and loving

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