#the eternal pathways of the Lord

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

True Form Sukuna/Reader: A Moment in Time (Part 5- The Arrival)

Author's Note: Hello pretty readers! I'm not entirely confident with this chapter so I held off posting it for awhile. Any feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!

Warnings: implied violence, implied nsft

The carriage rocked back and forth on the rocky country road.

“Won’t you look at me?” Sukuna sadistically coaxed. 

Please.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he threatened.

And so you do, meeting his eyes, trying not to go mad with fear. Bloody red irises pin you to the corner you huddled in. 

You had remained still since you had departed from the capitol. The voice of the young servant boy calling out to you almost brought you to tears. You knew besides the powerless youth no one would care for your well being, no one would remember you as Sukuna sunk his teeth into your heart. 

“Are you frightened maid?” he coyly asked. 

Oh his arrogance enraged you, but it did minutely relieve your nerves enough to answer him. 

“Shouldn’t I be? Lord Sukuna,”  you asked, delivering a sharpened tone in your honoring of him.

This wasn’t unnoticed by your captor. 

Before you could blink he extended his lower right arm and took your chin in between his fingers, using his left lower arm to pull you towards him.

“I’ll advise you to watch your tone when you address me.”

His warning caused a cold sweat to run down your back, laced with venom and guaranteed execution. 

But the feeling of his hands on your body stirred something else, something you couldn’t quite place. You had remembered those hands from somewhere, a memory where they hadn’t frightened you. 

Your train of thought was interrupted when the carriage came to a halt and Uraume poked their head inside.

“My lord, a situation has arisen.”

“What is it?”

~

Sukuna stepped out of the carriage and was greeted by a small family of farmers. They all dropped to their knees and averted their eyes in a fearful display of respect. 

“L-Lord Sukuna, we apologize for burdening you with our presence,” the patriarch stammered. 

“Tell him what you told me, peasant,” Uraume instructed.

So the farmer explained the issue. 

A group of bandits had looted their rice crop in the middle of the night, and had done the same to others in the area. 

Sukuna honestly could have cared less about this family or any of the others who had found themselves on the receiving end of the thieves' daggers. 

However, he knew if he left this issue unattended others would encroach on his territory and think him a fool. No, he’d take these petty nuisances and mutilate them, string them from the outer walls of his temple, and make an example of them. 

He turned to Uraume.

“I’ll handle this, take the maid back to the temple.”

~

You peered through the curtains of the carriage and observed the scene. 

The family that kneeled before Sukuna consisted of a mother, father, and a small daughter. The child didn’t fully grasp the threat that towered before her, she simply mirrored her parents actions. 

As her father explained the situation she peeked up and noticed you. 

Who were you? 

She hadn’t recognized you from the village. 

Perhaps you were to Sukuna what her father was to her mother. 

The King of Curses had a queen. 

~

After Sukuna took his leave, you and Uraume continued on towards the temple. They reluctantly joined you in the carriage for the remainder of the journey. 

The flat farmlands began to transform into mountainous terrains, dense with an imposing forest. 

It was here, where Sukuna’s temple was hidden. 

The carriage suddenly stopped and Uraume stood up, dusting off their robes. 

“Follow me,” they ordered. 

You reluctantly did as they said, not wanting to incur their masters' wrath. 

Uraume led you up a steep pathway of stairs, something that visitors would have to conquer if they wanted to reach Sukuna. 

You struggled, lagging behind Uraume who effortlessly made the trek up. After what felt like an eternity the two of you finally arrived. 

~

The palace you had worked at had been a sizable structure, but it was dwarfed by the temple. It loomed over you with a threatening aura. You could only imagine how many had met their demise on these grounds. The worshipers, prisoners, and sorcerers who had been devoured behind the doors.

~

“This will be where you live from now on,” Uraume announced as the two of you entered the temple.

“I can’t imagine you’re happy about that,” you muttered, knowing well that the only person who had the authority to take your life was Sukuna.

They just scowled at your sarcasm. 

“I’m not particularly worried. I doubt you’ll stay long.”

~

Uraume led you to the throne room to await the return of their master. Knowing Sukuna, the bandits would be dealt with quickly enough. 

“Stay here,” they ordered. “Or else-”

“Uraume,” a voice called out. 

An elderly man entered through the doors you had just come in with such nonchalance it was almost astounding. His wooden cane echoed through the room with each step he took. 

Uraume scowled at the stranger. “What do you want Kenjaku? I’m busy.”

“I’ve come to discuss business, and I’d prefer to do it without the presence of that hedonistic brat’s conquest.” 

You tensed up, knowing fully well he was addressing you. 

Uraume clenched their jaw, for some reason, choosing not to end the old man’s life as quickly as they ended Yorozu’s. 

They begrudgingly nodded and shot a warning look in your direction. “Don’t move.”

~

Uraume and the old man known as Kenjaku had left you to your wits in the locked room. 

You turned to face the throne, dipping yourself forward to mockingly bow towards it. 

Was this the room you would meet your demise in? 

It wasn’t as if you had any option besides death at Sukuna’s hands. 

Did you? 

You couldn’t go back to the capitol, certainly not. 

The lord of the house would turn you away, and if he had died the others would follow suit and extend a personal invitation for Sukuna to come to the capitol to partake in an elaborate feast where the main dish would be your severed head. 

But your persistence kept pestering you, not allowing you to fall before Sukuna’s throne and burst into tears. 

You walked around the throne room observing the walls decorated in elaborate tapestries depicting war, and the carnage it left in its path. You stopped in front of one that depicted a woman holding her baby, shielding him from the monster that threatened her. You reached out and pressed your fingers against her cheek, drawn to the tears woven in. 

As you leaned forward you felt something hollow. 

Letting curiosity get the better of you you pushed the tapestry aside and discovered a small opening. 

No, it couldn’t be. A way out? 

The opening revealed a long hallway, and at the end, an exit. 

You looked behind you and when you were sure no one was coming back you proceeded inside. 

~

“So Ryomen’s resorted to whisking maid’s away to the temple,” Kenjaku mused over his tea. 

Uraume smothered their irritation over the old man referring to their master so casually and sighed. “He’s been acting strange as of late. As if life has become dull.”

“He’s always done whatever he pleases, even when he was an ungovernable child.”

“Well, whatever the case, I fear this sudden infatuation with this maid will only lead to greater issues.”

Kenjaku hummed in agreement. 

“That’s what Tengen believes. But she’s always been one to worry. There’s been talk among the main clans and I’m sure you know the capitals already abuzz with this affront. No one cares for the life of a faceless soldier. But the livelihood of a man with a sizable estate? The days of constant bloodshed and power struggles are numbered.”

“What should be done?” they asked. 

“Let him play with his new toy. Bed her. Eat her. Both. That is if she hasn’t stumbled across your trap. You conniving devil.”

A small smirk appeared on Uraume’s face. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you're talking about. 

~

You were far from the fool that Uraume believed you to be. 

It would have been a ridiculous oversight on their part to leave you in a room with a discreet exit. 

You almost expected Sukuna to be waiting for you at the end of the hall, but you wouldn’t remain stagnant. 

You wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

The passageway led you through a few turns and ended with a small storage space filled with weapons, an armory. Swords, spears, and anything else for Sukuna to use in the game of war. 

Past a wall of armor was a door, and when you opened it you were greeted with the outside, the woods spreading as far as you could see. 

You took a dagger from its resting spot and concealed it in your robes. 

You took a step away from the house, then another, picking up the pace until you sprinted through the barricade of trees, imaging Sukuna taking his spear and shooting it through your back, but it never came, so you ran. 

~

The End. 

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #true form sukuna #ao3 fanfic #hyperfixationsporfavor

[aklxojjk]

The Restaurant’s Cashier

Waking up you knew that today was either going to be a nice and relaxing day or an anxious filled day. Every sunday you and your family visited a restaurant called Texas BBQ, where your family would take turns ordering for the whole table. Two Sundays ago was your mom, last Sunday was your brother, this Sunday it’s you. With a heavy sigh and a stretch you rose from the bed already stressing about the day ahead of you. It’s not that the cashier is mean or anything of the sort, you just had anxiety and having to memorize all your family’s orders plus having to speak up and not stutter when ordering was… hectic. You put slippers on and slipped into the bathroom, already dreading the thought of ordering food.

Gaming most of the morning away you realized that it was almost time to go to the restaurant and you had about 10 minutes to pick out an outfit, do your makeup, and put jewelry and shoes on.

“Wow, I’m just so prepared every time huh,” you said as you rushed towards your closet finding a nice comfortable pair of shorts and a long black shirt and began to change right there on the spot. Immediately after half putting the shirt on you stumbled over to your makeup stand, scattering some mascaras over your stand to find the perfect combo you always use.

‘my fucking god where is that shitty mascara at’ you though out loud for a second, eyes lighting up as you found the combo you always use. Something about this mascara made your lashes look 3 times bigger than they actually were.

“Hey, you ready?” your brother asked behind the door, respecting your privacy.

“Yeah just lemme finish my makeup and put my socks on,” you said with a raised voice knowing he could probably barely hear you from behind the door. You finished putting on your mascara and just added a bit of glitter under your eyes and some strawberry chapstick on your lips. You slipped your socks on as you opened the door, tripping over the frame.

"IM READY" you yelled, with your whole family yelling back "IM READYYYY" in response. Silly family things.

On the car ride there you tried not to mention that it was your turn to order because maybe that would make the other forget and it would ease your anxiety a bit.

“So mom wants the grilled fish with fries, I want the BBQ ribs with a side of uhm…fries i guess? dad wants popcorn chicken,” your brother said, not even looking at you, too busy admiring the usual roads you always take.

“popcorn chicken… you copying me?” you say looking at your dad with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m not really hungry so yea.”

you looked away already noticing the restaurant in the distance. It was super close to your house so the rides were always quick. you stepped outside, sighing your anxious feelings away hoping that maybe there was no line and the lady up front wouldn't ask a billion times for you to repeat yourself.

“I’ll go get the table” your mom said leading the way as the rest of your family followed close by.

‘Donald Trump if you can hear me… please save us’ is the only thought going through your head as you march down what seemed like an eternal pathway.

“Hi.” you greet the cashier; the same old woman as always.

“Hi darling! what can i get ya?” the old woman says happily, knowing you and your family always come to visit on Sundays.

“I would like a-” your eyes flickered between her and a worker in the back; he was staring you down with a pleasant smile as he continued to cook.

“uh 2 popcorn chickens and a… lord” you already forgot the order.

“Take your time now darling, there’s no one behind ya in line” the sweet old woman said laughing a bit, you glanced at the worker in the back again, noticing his eyes still lingering on you.

“Righttt okay, one grilled fish and one bbq ribs with a side of fries” you said with a smile, slightly shy from the man staring at you. He was definitely something.

“Alright that’ll be… $60.78” she said, turning the card machine towards you. You honestly didn’t even check if she got the order right. you just prayed she did as you couldn’t take anymore of the man’s eyes on you, seeing them trail up and down your body.

“I forgot the drinks…” you said giving her an anxious smile.

“Oh come on now sweetheart! you and your family come by every sunday, I already put it in,” the lady says with a smile as you shyly put the card in.

You couldn’t manage to form a reply as you looked up to see if the man was still staring. To your surprise he wasn’t, which made you think that maybe he didn't truly mean anything by it.

“Alright and would you like a receipt?” she asked and you nodded immediately, knowing that if you didn’t ask for one your dad might send you straight into the seventh layer of hell; he had a thing for receipts.

“Thank you ma’am,” you said as you grabbed your receipt nodding at her in a polite manner.

“You’re welcome sweetie, and next time just call me Nancy.” the old lady nodded back, turning around to give the order to the kitchen.

As you found your usual table— which was on the other side of the wall directly adjacent to the ordering counter— you and your family sat out of sight from the kitchen. you fidgeted with your fingers wondering if you got the order right and if she heard everything okay.

“Check if she got it right,” you said to your dad as he immediately started to check the receipt.

“Always in this damn restaurant!” he says with a bit of anger but not loud enough to warn the other customers and employees around.

He glanced at the receipt, “she put only one popcorn chicken. And she got 4 fountain drinks- you know your mom only drinks water,” he says rolling his eyes.

You let out a big sigh, rolling your eyes as you harshly picked up the receipt. You didn’t really care that she messed up. You felt a bit guilty since she was a bit old- not her fault she couldn’t really hear your low and anxious voice. You walked back to the front counter, looking at your receipt as you fidgeted with it.

“Hey ma’am this is wron-“ as you began to look up, you noticed that the woman is no longer there but that man from earlier is standing there.

He didn’t say anything, but just stared at you with a blank face.

“Oh my bad I thought you were the old lady.. uhm she got my order wrong.” you said, glancing from the receipt up to his eyes then down at the receipt again in an attempt to break eye contact.

“Tell me what she got wrong,” he said in a clear voice, trying to be heard over the sounds of the kitchen behind him.

“uhm it was 2 popcorn chickens and 3 fountain cups instead of 4. One drink was just water.” you made eye contact with him immediately feeling your cheeks lightly burn.

Honestly you had no thoughts in your head except two: this man is attractive and you couldn’t focus on anything else. You stared into his eyes as he was tapping away at the machine, fixing your order up. This was the only time you could examine his features without him catching you.

He was on the taller side and looked about close to your age with dark hair that was a bit on the longer side for a guy, but was clearly well maintained. His facial features were striking, which explained why you wanted to keep staring at him at every chance. He had a muscular build that was not initially noticeable due to his mundane work outfit, but that became apparent once you realized it was there.

“Eight dollars,” he said nonchalantly in his little southern accent after he was done fixing the order.

“Oh right,” you mumbled under your breath, taking your card out as you went to pay for the extra meal they originally forgot to put in.

“Here you go darling,” he said, handing you a new receipt.

You thanked the man and turned around, wanting to return to your table immediately.

“Hey hold on,” the man shouted as you turned back around and stood in front of him, “you forgot the other receipt.” This time he had a smile on his face as he handed you a third receipt.

“Ohh sorry,” you apologized for running off so quickly and grabbed the receipt, turning again to fill the water cup for your mother.

As you made your way back to your table you stopped by the soda machine to pour water into the cup. As you watched the water pour you realized, ‘wait two receipts?’

Just now realizing you received two receipts, you took the second receipt out of your pocket. “text me ;))” it read with a phone number under it.

“holy shit!” you said, realizing that he did actually mean something by it.

As you were reeling from this surprise, you felt your hand turn cold. ‘Oh shit!’ you yelled in your head as you looked down and saw the cup overflowing with cool water. You walked back to your table with a full cup of water and a now cold hand, placing it down in front of your mother.

“Did they fix it?” your father asked while staring up at the restaurant tv, watching some news headline about a recent murder in the area.

“Yeah, here’s the new receipt,” you handed over the receipt to him making sure to keep the one with that guy’s number in your pocket. “I’m so hungry,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the realization that you were probably blushing in front of him and didn’t even notice.

Soon your food arrived and you immediately showered your food in a bunch of different sauces.

“jesus…” your brother said, looking at your food as if he wasn’t doing the same thing.

You hummed as you were about to dig in. “It’s not going anywhere bro,” your brother added as he watched you stuff your mouth with chicken and fry goodness.

“I know,” you said with a bit of food still in your mouth.

You didn’t speak much as you usually preferred to just eat in peace instead of talk. As you were casually sipping your drink, you kept noticing the employees walking by and glancing at you. ‘Ah fuck no’ you thought, hating the feeling of being watched as you ate. You tried to brush it off, thinking that maybe they were just checking if you were done eating to snatch your plate away. But when you were actually done you noticed no waitress coming by to take your plate, that's when you noticed the big ass sign that said “leave plates on table” so you were not tripping and they were definitely looking at you weird. You shrugged it off because you couldn’t really do anything about the staring.

You pulled out your phone and airpods to listen to music while you waited for your family to finish eating. Then you remembered the phone number in your pocket and sneakily pulled out the other receipt. You looked at the paper now in your hands as you typed the number into your phone. “cute cashier guy” you typed in as his contact name since you didn't ask for his name nor did you look at his name tag.

With stomachs now full, you and your family stood up marching towards the door, stopping by the soda machine to get some more soda before returning home.

“How was y’all’s food?” The man from earlier stood next to you restocking the soda lids and straws as you refilled your cup.

“It was amazing as always,” your brother said pushing you to the side so he could get his drink refilled.

“That's always good to hear! Y’all have a good day now,” he said, staring directly into your eyes.

You gave him a nod as you mumbled a thank you and ran off to where your parents were holding the door open for you. You took the door from your dad’s grip and held it open for your brother as he was now carrying his soda and a bunch of sauce packs he found. You saw the man point to his name tag. “Johnny” it read. ‘That's actually not a bad name at all, it's definitely moanable’ you thought as you smiled and walked away, waving at johnny.

As you ran to catch up with your family— who had long since left you there holding the door open like an idiot— you kept thinking about his name.

“johnny…” you said in a low breathy voice just trying to see how his name felt on your tongue, simultaneously wondering how he would feel on your tongue. In your head this sounded normal but your facial expression was definitely cringing.

Opening the door, you slapped your tummy with a big sigh and turned to your brother, “that shit was good,” you said smiling knowing he was gonna say the same thing.

As your parents pulled out of the parking lot, you started to think more about that guy. He was very attractive. Handsome with some nice strong arms that could probably pick you up with ease… you would like that. You pondered away looking at the sky and getting lost in your thoughts until you heard the car stop and realized you were already home. ‘damn,’ you thought, ‘that was so fast.’ you hopped out of the car and walked inside immediately wanting to text him.

You stepped into your room, plopping down on the bed with your phone in hand as you drafted up a text to send him. After debating for a while, you decided to go with something simple and direct.

“Hey :)”

*

Some weeks had passed since you first texted him and your relationship with Johnny had grown. He would often text you during work.

Johnny

hey I’m getting off work soon

wanna hang with me?

hmm dunno I’m kinda tired

Johnny

I’ll pick you up and buy you some food

all of a sudden I’m dressed and ready to go 😝

Johnny

I’ll be there in 5 pretty girl ;)

Not only have you guys been flirting but you also got to know him more. He was adopted when he was little by Nancy, who treated him like her own son. He had plans for the future (and he wanted to make sure you were in it). You had now been to about 5 official dates with him, but truthfully you had been spending more time with him than your own family. Every day you would wake up, text him, and then go see him. Nancy had asked you so many times if you were dating but you kept telling her that you were not a couple.

*

A few nights after that you received a text from none other than your Johnny.

Johnny

you up?

yea what’s up?

Johnny

uhm i have a smalll tinyyy question

just say it johnny

Johnny

would you be my girlfriend?

I know i shouldn’t ask over the phone but i just wanted to get it out, I really like you.

You gasped at the sudden question. Yeah you expected this but still it was shocking.

yea

you tried to act very nonchalant

Johnny

okay then send me a picture of your face.

what for?

Johnny

oh come on honey just send me a damn picture already

tell me what forr

Johnny

I just wanna have something to look at…

while doing… what 😇

You were no saint, you knew what he was implying but you wanted to make him spit it out.

Johnny

you’ll find out.

just let me know when and I’ll pick ya up ;))

Panic settled into you, ‘oh my god…’ you quickly rushed to the closet looking for something pretty but not try-hard, maybe some shorts and a hoodie. gotta work for it you thought as you looked at the hoodie.

pick me up in 10

Johnny

straight to the point

I like it.

You didn’t have many sexy undergarments but at least you had a thong your friend bought you a while back.

“That’ll do” you said, putting your shorts over the thong and putting on the plain hoodie, no bra.

You were lucky you had just showered or else you could’ve missed the chance to finally stand on business. You just had to spray a little perfume and apply your scented lotion now. ‘hmm this smells just like strawberries’ you thought when you got a whiff of your arm while fixing your hair.

“am i fuck-ready or what,” you said while looking at the mirror, staring your body down. You kept staring and a bit of worry began to form in your eyes.

“Maybe I should put a shirt on,” you said, tugging at the ends of your hoodie strings.

Not another thought could enter your mind before your phone went off.

Johnny

I’m outside.

You felt a shiver go down your spine, it was time. You quickly exited your room and made your way out the front door, seeing his car pulled up in your driveway.

“Hi Johnny,” you wanted to seem totally relaxed and not nervous.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said in a low voice as you entered the car.

No other words were exchanged. He only turned to face the road and started the car. You quickly realized this was the way to his house, you had been there before a couple times.

“Wait your parents aren’t home right?” you asked a bit worried you would have to be quiet.

With an eyebrow quirk he turned to you. “Why would that matter?”

“Wait, are we not…” you started but got cut off.

“I’m just kidding honey, yea we are.” he said putting his palm up waiting for yours.

You slid your hand on top of his and he immediately closed his grip and brought it over to his side. You can feel his hand trace circles over yours, he seemed extra gentle today.

Letting go of your hand he exited the vehicle and you could see him go around the back making his way to your door. You felt a breeze and turned towards the car door.

“we’re here,” he said, holding the door open for you with a charming smile.

“yay” you replied in a sad tone. You couldn’t help a worried expression from creeping over your face.

You were finally here and now you had to actually follow him inside. When you made it inside his house you paused to take in the house, not particularly interested since you had already been here before.

“Just give me a sec,” he turned around to put his keys on the key holder then take his shoes off.

You followed suit then took the time to sit on one of those fancy looking high chairs he had around the kitchen bar.

“soo uhm what did you mean by that?” you stared at his back waiting for him to look at you.

“You know what I meant,” he said as he made his way over to you, looking you up and down as if he had been waiting for this moment.

It doesn’t take long for his hands to find their way under your shorts’ leg bands. You enjoyed the new feeling of warmth emitting from his rough hands.

“do I?” You did know what he meant but you just wanted to try and seem flirty.

He scoffed in response to that, rolling his eyes and removing his hands from your thighs.

“I was joking~ come on” you took his hand in yours and guided it back to your thighs, already missing the feeling of them.

“you play too much,” with a single quick move, he snatched you up in his arms, making your legs wrap around his waist.

“Johnny, wait-” was the only thing you managed to say before he started to kiss you, getting a taste of the chapstick and smelling the perfume you showered yourself with.

The lotion made your skin smooth and soft as he rubbed one hand on your leg and the other found its way under your hoodie to support your lower back

“been waiting for this-” he bit your lower lip, wanting more of you, “-for some time now.”

He didn’t move you over to his bedroom just yet, wanting to savor you more. The taste of strawberry made him want to lick his lips after he was done with you. At this point your body started heating up, feeling a heavy blush overtake your face and your eyes fluttered with lust. The heat emitting from your body and the fact that you were wearing a hoodie did not go together.

“It’s so hot in here,” you exclaimed, breaking the kiss to fan yourself with your hand.

“So let's take this hoodie off. It’s 80 degrees, what were you thinking?” He chuckled, setting you down again on the chair and hovering his hands over the waistband of your hoodie.

He wanted to tease you- to make sure you felt desperate for his touch. He took his time lifting your hoodie, observing your expressions to see if you were still comfortable.

“Why are you taking so long,” you pulled your hoodie over your head, setting it down on the chair next to you.

His eyes were staring at your now exposed body with eyebrows raised and a small ‘o’ shaped mouth.

“What?? what's wrong?” you glanced down to see what he was looking at and immediately realized what made him become so shocked: you had no bra on.

“So ya came prepared, huh?” he looked into your eyes, a smirk on his lips as he took a hold of your waist and pulled you off the chair and into him.

He wanted to take you right then and there but he knew that he couldn’t just yet. You tugged at his shirt wanting him to take it off and he received your message loud and clear, taking his shirt off and watching you stare at his abs.

His lips attacked yours once more earning him a muffled moan that vibrated against his lips, his hands now exploring your chest and bare abdomen.

“You feel so good,” he paused and whispered in your ear before diving back into kissing you, his hands squeezing your hips.

His strong arms wrapped around you once again, pressing you flat against his body as if to eliminate any space that could’ve possibly remained between you. He started to walk towards his bedroom, enraptured by the taste of strawberry on your lips.

He stumbled slightly as he made his way to his room while carrying you, hitting the walls and corners on the way there. Neither of you really cared to let go of each other to let him see the obstacles in his way. He set you down on the floor and turned you to face the bed, standing behind you towering over your shorter figure.

“I feel so bare…” you looked down at your feet feeling a bit vulnerable.

“You look beautiful,” he said, finding the crook of your neck and kissing it gently with hands snaking around your waist.

His hands ran across your skin, rising from your waist to your breasts and giving them a firm squeeze, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin.

“I don’t feel it..” you crossed your arms over his hands, feeling too exposed.

He brought his hands down from your breasts to hold your elbows, sliding them down to your sides.

“I’ll make ya feel it,” smirking against the skin of your neck he now used your hands— which were being held by him— to make you caress yourself.

Wanting you to feel yourself. Wanting you to feel how good you felt to him. How your skin felt soft and tender under his touch. He brought your fingers up to your mouth so you could suck on them. You parted your lips and did as he wanted, sucking on your them until they were decently wet.

“Does that feel good?” he moved your now wet fingers to your right nipple, making you swirl it and play with it.

He used your other hand to massage your left titty, which made you squeeze your eyes in satisfaction.

“Yeah… it does,” You whimpered in response, allowing yourself to be vulnerable in his presence and arching slightly at the feeling of his body pressed up against your own.

He let your hands go, encouraging you to keep playing with yourself without his help. He held your hair up, wanting to have more access to you and began leaving a trail of kisses that started at the back of your neck and went down to the middle of your back then to your sides where he left a love bite. Unzipping your shorts, he slowly slid them down, watching them fall off to reveal your thong.

“Who would've thought you owned a thong huh?” he smiled cheekily, now sliding his hands up your legs stopping at your hips.

He lowered himself, bathing your hips in kisses and gentle squeezes. His rough yet gentle handling fueling a fire in you. He didn’t speak for a while before he suddenly spun you around and pushed you to the edge of the bed.

“Johnny—” you yelped, a bit shocked as he pushed you rather harshly.

He placed a knee under your own and pushed it to the side, wanting to get a better view while his other leg was placed on the edge of the bed for support. He lowered his body to give you a quick peck before kneeling down. ‘A munch has got to eat I guess’ you thought, smiling down at him as you watched him kiss up your thighs, the feeling of his teeth scraping against your skin sending shivers up your spine.

“If you move I'll stop. I wanna take my time with you” he said, sliding your thong down and chucking it to the side.

“That’s not gonna be a problem,” you confidently replied.

He smirked up at you, knowing you wouldn't be able to hold still at all. He stroked the inside of your thighs with one hand while he drew his thumb gently along your slit with the other, making you shiver at the cool sensation of his fingers. He wanted to make sure you enjoyed this whole thing. He began tracing your clit in the slowest, faintest circles.

“That feels… nice. I like—” your sentence was cut short when you suddenly felt his thumb press more against your clit and his soft strokes became more prominent. You rolled your hips, trying to chase his hand.

“yeah, you like that doll?” you felt his smile against your skin as his kisses came dangerously close to your pussy.

He moved his hand from your clit down to your entrance sliding his fingers in and out of you, his mouth open as he watched you squirm at the slow pace while pondering if he should just give it to you straight.

“Why are you going so slow Johnny,” you said while straining your body to get him to speed up, which he happily obliged to.

He began pumping in and out of you while he sucked on your clit, sending pleasure straight to your core. You whimpered at his fast pace and that skilled tongue of his, arching as you combed your fingers through his hair with a sigh of relief. The slow pace was agonizing and this felt so much better. The tip of his tongue began rapidly pounding against your clit. The room was silent except for the occasional wet sounds and moans that emitted from you. You tried to close your legs due to a tightening feeling forming in your stomach, which made him immediately stop what he was doing.

“Why’d you stop johnny?” you huffed in frustration with a displeased look on your face, not wanting him to stop.

“I told you not to move darling. You have to listen to me,” He went back to that same slow, excruciating pace as he circled your clit with his other hand stretching you out slowly, “but if you beg I’ll make ya cum real quick. Would you like that baby?” his head was tilted and he was smiling at you; he knew you wanted it badly.

“tsk.. please johnny… can you please make me cum? I’m begging you,” you begged with pleading eyes.

He chuckled in response, “yes ma’am.”

He loved the way you begged and the way his name rolled off your tongue. He immediately dove back into your cunt eating you out like it was his last meal. He gripped your legs to prevent you from moving which you were thankful for.

“Fuckkk,” you dragged that word out with a whimper, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach.

You whispered his name like it was a prayer, your high slowly approaching as you squirmed. You reached up to cup your breast, throwing your head back in pleasure. Letting out a loud moan you stopped moving, feeling your release finally arrive. But Johnny kept going.

“Keep going pretty girl,” he helped you ride out your high with his fingers as he went up to kiss you passionately.

“you’re so good at this…” you huffed, out of breath from your orgasm.

“And we haven't even started yet,” he stood up, taking his belt off and unzipping his pants.

He gave his dick a quick pump before stroking your slit with it. You jumped at the feeling of it, your clit still sensitive. He rubbed his dick against your clit a few times before slowly inserting just the tip, both of you taking in a sharp inhale at the feeling.

“Fuck…” He purred lowly.

He wasn’t particularly big but he wasn't small either, he was the perfect size for someone who knew what he was doing. You put your arms on his broad shoulders as his arms held your lower thighs. He placed them on each of his sides, leaving marks on them from how tight he was gripping you. He took it slow— inch by agonizing inch— watching with his mouth agape at your cunt stretching itself out for him. The tightness forced him to stuff himself fully inside you. He took this time to find your hand and interlace his with yours, wanting you to feel more connected with him.

“You’re really tight baby, you holding up all good?” he whispers in your ear, kissing your cheek followed by your lips.

“y-yea just getting used to you I guess,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact; you’d rather not look at him as he’s stuffing you like a thanksgiving turkey.

“Good,” he started to slowly move, making sure you could get used to him.

His hand slipped away from yours, finding its way to your clit again and rubbing circles on it. You let out a muffled whimper as he kept touching you but you quickly covered your mouth.

“It's okay, let me hear ya pretty moans now,” he said looking down at you, trying to speed up his pace now that you were comfortable under him.

You let yourself be heard but kept your hand over your mouth, hiding your face from your boyfriend.

“Why are you hiding now, you’re so pretty,” he moved your hair out of the way.

Instead of pulling your hand away you kept it there, not wanting him to see your face.

“What are you doing that for?” He said with an eyebrow quirked, his hands moved to grip your wrists, pulling them to your sides making you be seen by him, “there you are…” you had no choice but to be seen struggling under his grip.

“yea I wanna see you, wanna see your face,” he was inches away from your face, just watching the way you moaned and how your eyebrows moved.

“stop looking so hard-” you playfully push him away, using the hand that was covering your mouth to cup your tits again.

“But you look so pretty baby,” he said while pulling you by the legs so he could close any distance between you, needing to feel you as much as humanly possible.

You felt your stomach tighten and put one of your hands on his shoulder, looking for something to grab onto. You were ready to feel your orgasm again, remembering how good it felt the last time.

“uh-uh baby. I need to get some pleasure too,” he said, removing his hand from your clit and increasing the speed at which he was pumping into you.

You pulled him in and switched positions so that now you were on top, “then let me make you feel good,” you had been waiting to say that, smiling hard at him seeing his shocked face.

“Okay then make me feel good my little cowgirl.”

You weren’t a cowgirl but you were gonna ride him like one.

“What feels good to you?” At first you were just dragging yourself on him. It felt good to you but does he feel the same?

“Give it a little bounce princess,” he looked up at you with a smirk on his lips, enjoying the view of you rubbing yourself on him and finding it pleasurable.

“Like this?” you were clueless on what made him feel good but you were trying.

You bounce on him trying to give him any pleasure you could. You kept bouncing, feeling his dick hit that tender spot inside you. You were messy and that's exactly how he liked it.

“Mhm keep going,” he let out a low moan, encouraging you to keep bouncing on his dick, but as you do it, it slips out all of a sudden.

“oh sorry…” you were a bit awkward but you redeemed yourself when you wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock, moving your hand from base to tip then back and finally slipping it back inside with a yelp.

He didn’t say it but that was pretty hot, he wished you would take his dick more often in the future, wrapping your small hands around him and pumping him before entering you.

“Talk to me johnny I wanna know how you feel,” you pleaded with your eyes, genuinely just wanting to know if he was enjoying this.

“Shhh,” he hushed you as one of his hands moved to your left boob, giving it a squeeze and the other hand squeezed your ass.

He was definitely enjoying himself having you on top of him; titties bouncing, a flushed look on your face, and your eyes almost closed.

“Mmm fuck I’m close,” he said moving his hands to your hips now gripping them with force, making you bounce at the speed that he commanded. He was thrusting up into you now with a sloppy rhythm, longing for that feeling of release.

“Me too,” you moaned, taking one of your hands that were supporting you down to your clit and rubbing and scissoring rapidly trying to chase your own orgasm.

“You’re so greedy,” he chuckled, seeing you so desperately trying to play with yourself, he slapped your hand away and rubbed your clit for you.

You both began moaning loudly as your orgasms were rapidly approaching. He came first, thrusting himself deep into you trying to pump you full of his load. He watched intently as you kept riding him, rubbing your clit and making you come undone on top of him, mixing your fluids together.

“So this was your first time, right?” he said, pulling your limp body close to his and rubbing your back with him still inside you.

“yea…” you said, kinda embarrassed he knew immediately.

He had now touched you in places only he knew.

“It’s alright, you did really well. It doesn't matter to me if it was your first time or not. I’ll always prioritize you first. Always, my little cowgirl,” he said, using his hand to lift your face and give your lips— which were glossy from all the biting and licking— a kiss.

You felt so tired you didn't even notice him pushing you down on the bed and bringing some wipes to clean you up.

You began to grow sleepy, rolling to your side as you yearned for the perfect sleeping position. He watched you roll around before eventually settling in and falling asleep, and decided to give you one final kiss on the forehead to let you know that he was there for you while you slept.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x you #johnny slaughter tcm #tcm #johnny tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw fic #fluff #eventual smut

[talonabraxas]

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu Talon Abraxas

Held by ropes of pure gold in a shrine in the greatest Temple of Divine Light of the Motherland of Mu was the gigantic Golden Disc of the Sun. Before it, on an altar, which was a pillar carved out of solid stone, there blazed the eternal white Light of the crystalline Maxin Flame, the Divine Limitless Light of Creation. About 30,000 B.C. the Maxin Light went out on the Altar because of the evil of some of the priest-scientists of Great Mu. The Sun Disc remained in its shrine, however, until the time of the final destruction and submergence of 10-12,000 B.C.

As we said before, this Disc was not merely used as an object of adoration, nor was it the symbolic representation of our Solar Sun. It was also a scientific instrument, and the secret of its power came originally out of the dim past in the time of the Elder Race. In part, it was an object of adoration because it served in ritualistic temple services as a focus or point of concentration for those meditating. It also served as a symbolic representation of the Great Central, or Cosmic Sun, which, in turn, symbolizes the Creator. As a scientific instrument it was used in connection with a complex system of mirrors of pure gold, reflectors and lenses to produce healing in the bodies of those who were inside the Temple of Light. Indeed, that is why it was called Temple of Divine Light. Besides all these functions, the Sun Disc was a focal point for concentration of a dimensional quality. When the Disc was struck by a priest-scientist, who understood its operation, it would set certain vibratory conditions which could even bring about great earthquakes and, if continued long enough, might bring about a change in the rotation of the Earth itself. When attuned to a person’s particular frequency pattern it could transport this person wherever he wished to go merely by the mental picture he created. It was, therefore, an object of transportation.

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu was not made of ordinary gold, but was transmuted gold, and unusual in its qualities in that it was a translucent metal similar, evidently, to the “metal you can almost look through” of the UFOs.

Lord Muru brought this Disc with him when he journeyed to Lake Titicaca, and it was placed in a subterranean temple at the Monastery of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays. Here, it was used not only by the students of life daily, but also by the Masters and Saints from the Mystery Schools throughout the world so that they might be teleported back and forth to sit in Council or to partake of some Transmission Ceremony.

When the Incas came to Peru, and come they did, for they were not native Quechua Indians, but came from a land across the Pacific, they established a highly spiritual society on top of the ruins of the great culture that had belonged to the Colonial Empire of Lemuria. The High Priests of the Sun of Tawantinsuyo–the name of the Inca Empire–built their Coricancha or Temple of the Sun exactly on top of an older structure dating from very remote times. From ancient records in their homeland across the Pacific they learned of the Golden Sun Disc of Mu and they knew it had been removed from the doomed continent and taken to a new land where Lord Muru had founded an Inner Retreat or Sanctuary.

Once in Peru, the Incan High Priests searched long for the Disc but were never able to locate it. However, when they had reached the place on the Spiritual Pathway where they could use the Disc to the benefit of all their people–the native, indigenous tribes they had amalgamated into an empire–as it had been used on Mu, then it was presented to them for their daily use in their Temple of the Sun at Cuzco.

The Inca Emperor at the time was a Divine Mystic or Saint, and he made a pilgrimage to the Monastery at Lake Titicaca, and there Aramu-Muru, as Spiritual Head or Abbot of the Brotherhood, gave the Disc to the Emperor. Several Brothers from the lake were directed to journey with him to the capital of the empire, Cuzco. Here the Disc was placed in a shrine that had been prepared for it, and it was secured with golden ropes as it had been held in ancient Lemuria. Even today, the holes through which these ropes passed can be seen at the Convent of Santo Domingo in Cuzco which is built on top of the Pre-Inca and Inca Sun Temple.

The Incas called their Temple of the Sun Coricancha, which means Place of Gold or Garden of Gold. This was because of the magnificent, solid gold, life-sized figures of men, animals, plants and flowers that were placed in a real Garden of Gold adjacent to the Sun Temple. But the priest-scientists called the Temple Amarucancha. On some of the stones at Santo Domingo today you can still see carved serpents (amarus) and that is the reason, they say, that some knew the Temple as Amarucancha, or, Place of the Serpents. However, that is not the real reason. Amaru is a form of Aramu, which is one of the names of Lord Maru. There are large snakes in the Andes which are still called amarus. Lord Maru’s name concerns a snake because his title is similar to that of another world teacher, Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent of the Aztec Empire in Mexico. Therefore, the Temple of the Sun at Cuzco was named for Aramu-Muru, head of the Monastery at Lake Titicaca, for it was he who enabled them to have, at last, the Golden Disc in their Sun Temple. Within this greater Temple there were smaller temples or shrines dedicated to the Moon, the Twelve Planets (Stars), and to the Seven Rays.

The Brotherhood of the Seven Rays became the leading force in the spiritual life of the Incas, and they learned the use of the Disc from ancient records left by the wise Pre-Incas who were Lemurian colonists. The Disc remained in the Coricancha at Cuzco until word reached the priests that Don Francisco Pizarro had landed in Peru. Knowing full well what was going to take place, sorrowfully they removed the Disc from the Cuzco shrine and returned it to its place in the subterranean temple at the Monastery. The Spanish conquerors never saw it.

On January 21, 1956, Beloved Archangel Michael of the Sun gave an address at His Retreat at Banff, in the Canadian Rockies. The following is an excerpt:

Many of the Temples used on Atlantis and Lemuria have been raised into the etheric realms. Some day they will be lowered again when man is spiritually ready to receive them. It has happened that one or more of the precious stones used in the construction of these Temples have been put in the hands of a High Priest or Head of a Spiritual Order where they form a connection with the Celestial Hierarchy. There are several dozens of the stones from My own Temple in the possession of individuals at various points on the Earth’s surface today…

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu is one of the precious stones referred to by Lord Michael. And it was put in the hands of the Head of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays, Aramu-Muru. The Disc will remain at Lake Titicaca until that day ‘when man is spiritually ready’ to receive it and to use it once again. On that day the Golden Disc will be taken out of its subterranean chamber and placed high above the Monastery of the Brotherhood. For many miles the pilgrims of the New Dawn will see it once again reflecting the glorious rays of the Sun. Coming from it will be an undeniable tone of purest harmony that will bring many followers of light up the foot-worn path to the ancient gate of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays, and they shall enter the Valley of the Blue Moon for fellowship in the Father.

Excerpt from Secret Of The Andes

[thedoctorfifteen]

DW: Stone Sentinels (Open RP Starter)

The brisk, foggy winter morning wrapped around the 15th Doctor as he stood by the gates of the Eternal Shadows Mortuary, adorned in a unique ensemble that somehow blended effortlessly with the solemn atmosphere. His leather black jacket, yellow polo, tartan green-red kilt, dark green socks, and brown leather boots spoke of a fashion sense both eclectic and confidently individual.

The Doctor's eyes, framed by a mischievous glint, scanned the serene landscape of the cemetery. The fog clung to the ancient headstones, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. His sonic screwdriver, a circular blue dial adorned with deep gold Gallifreyan hieroglyphics, hummed softly in his hands as he scanned the graveyard.

The Doctor: "Temporal splinter, emanating from Earth. Surprise, Surprise."

The Doctor's brow furrowed in concern as he followed the signal through the mist-shrouded pathways. The soft glow of the sonic illuminated his focused expression.

The Doctor: "What's caught your attention here, I wonder?"

The Doctor's ears twitched at the faintest echo of footsteps, his Time Lord hearing tuning into the subtle nuances of sound. The footsteps, almost imperceptible to a human ear, resonated through the foggy graveyard.

#15th doctor #doctor who rp #doctor who #doctor who roleplay #thedoctorfifteen #doctor who oc #dw spoilers #dw #new doctor who #new who #new year #new rp #new music #new york #open to all #open starter #open to anyone #commissions open #dms open #open rp #starter call #asks open #canon muse rp #fandomless rp #dw rp #sci fi rp #multimuse rp #doctor who starter #ncuti gatwa icons #i love ncuti

[walkswithmyfather]

Psalm 25:4‭-‬15 (NASB1995). “Make me know Your ways, O Lord; Teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth and teach me, For You are the God of my salvation; For You I wait all the day. Remember, O Lord, Your compassion and Your lovingkindnesses, For they have been from of old. Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; According to Your lovingkindness remember me, For Your goodness’ sake, O Lord.

Good and upright is the Lord; Therefore He instructs sinners in the way. He leads the humble in justice, And He teaches the humble His way. All the paths of the Lord are lovingkindness and truth To those who keep His covenant and His testimonies. For Your name’s sake, O Lord, Pardon my iniquity, for it is great.

Who is the man who fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way he should choose. His soul will abide in prosperity, And his descendants will inherit the land. The secret of the Lord is for those who fear Him, And He will make them know His covenant. My eyes are continually toward the Lord, For He will pluck my feet out of the net.”

“God’s Pathway to Goodness” By In Touch Ministries:

“God rewards all who obey Him, but our blessings may be different.”

“The Lord showers His goodness on all, but our ability to perceive it is limited. To experience the fullness of His kindness, we must honor Him by choosing submission and obedience.

The Father has a plan for His children, but because no two people are alike, each path will look different. What may be best for one person may not be good for another. Comparison of God’s ways will lead only to discouragement and misjudgment. We have neither the wisdom nor the eternal perspective to understand why God leads some people down paths of pain and hardship, but we do know that He is always good.

Every step on God’s pathway represents a choice to follow Him. By looking around at others’ lives instead of fixing our eyes on Jesus, we may start thinking we’re missing out on something really good. Or if we leave the Lord’s course to follow a path that looks better, we forfeit His good blessings and discover, as Adam and Eve did, that any other way leads to loss.

Take time periodically to ask yourself, Am I on the path the Lord has chosen for me, or have I taken a detour to follow another direction that looks good? To build our own course and ignore the goodness and abundance of God’s pathway is foolishness. He alone knows the way we should take.”

#psalm 25:4‭-‬15 #goodness of god #god is good #god loves you #god's love #love of god #bible verses #bible truths #bible scriptures #bible quotes #bible study #christian devotionals #daily devotions #bible #christian blog #god #belief in god #faith in god #jesus #belief in jesus #faith in jesus #christian life #christian living #christian faith #christian inspiration #christian encouragement #christian motivation #christianity #christian quotes #in touch ministries

[lunardragon00]

The Heir (Choi San x OC)

Masterlist

Genre: Fantasy , Lord!San x Princess!OC

Words: 4655

Warning: Angst, light fluff (you guys I almost cried writing this)

Chapter Four --> Chapter Five --> Chapter Seven

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔦𝔵 - 𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔶, 𝔲����𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers, and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his, and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

The Sept of Suncrest stood resplendent in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens like fingers of faith. Inside, the air was alive with a sense of anticipation, mingling with the fragrance of incense and the soft murmur of prayers. At the heart of the sept stood Prince Hongjoong, the heir to the Iron Throne, a figure of regal poise and dignity. Beside him, his betrothed, Arya Tyrell, radiated a quiet beauty, her gown of white silk trailing behind her like a river of moonlight.

The pews were filled with nobles and commoners alike, their eyes fixed on the couple before them, their hearts brimming with hope and joy. For this union was more than a marriage of two souls; it was a promise of peace and prosperity, a beacon of hope in a world plagued by strife. As the High Septon began the sacred rites, his voice reverberating through the hallowed halls, a hush fell over the crowd, broken only by the solemn exchange of vows and the gentle strains of music.

Outside, the city bustled with life, unaware of the solemn ceremony taking place within the sept's sacred walls. But inside, amidst the flickering candlelight and the scent of roses, Prince Hongjoong and Lady Arya Tyrell pledged their love before gods and men, sealing their bond for all eternity. 

The newlyweds, Prince Hongjoong and Arya, chose to have their celebratory feast outdoors in the garden, a serene and picturesque location within the castle grounds. The garden, adorned with blooming flowers, winding pathways, and lush greenery, provided a romantic ambiance for the joyous occasion. Arya, with her radiant smile and sparkling eyes, led Hongjoong through the garden. As they strolled hand in hand, their affection for each other was evident to all who beheld them. The couple, newly joined in matrimony, remained close together, their love and happiness palpable in the air.

Guests mingled amidst the colorful blooms, savoring delectable dishes and raising their glasses in toast to the newlyweds. Music filled the air, adding to the festive atmosphere of the celebration. Underneath the canopy of stars, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of their loved ones, Hongjoong and Arya basked in the glow of their love, cherishing each moment of their special day. 

"They make a lovely couple, don't they?" Takashi - Arya's father - remarked, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and fondness for his daughter and her chosen partner. 

"It brings me great joy to see such happiness upon my son's face," the King agreed, his voice resonating with pride and contentment as he observed Prince Hongjoong and Arya, the newlyweds, sharing tender moments together in the garden. The King's hand, standing beside the King, nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with paternal affection as he watched his daughter and her beloved husband. The couple, with their undeniable chemistry and genuine affection for each other, radiated a sense of joy and harmony that warmed the hearts of all who beheld them. 

"Will they be leaving for Dragonspire soon?" Asked Takashi, but the King shook his head. 

"No, my son will stay with me here in Drake's Landing. He still has much learn if he is to be King one day." The hand stood shocked at this news, for it was custom for the heir to the throne to reside on Dragonspire until it was time to ascend as King. "So, Dragonspire will remain empty?"

 "No, I plan to have my daughter move there once her and Prince Wooyoung wed." Takashi Tyrell gazed thoughtfully at his monarch. His brow furrowed with concern as he voiced his query, his words weighed with the gravity of a father's love and the wisdom of a seasoned advisor.

"You do not wish for her to remain here?" Takashi's inquiry hung in the air, his tone measured yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. The King's daughter was the spirited embodiment of the Kim name, her presence a captivating blend of grace and determination. As her father, understood the depths of her soul, the restless spirit that yearned for more than the confines of courtly life. Kang-Dae met Takashi's gaze with a solemn nod, his features etched with a paternal concern mirrored by the elder Tyrell. 

"It's not that," Kang-Dae began, his voice a steady cadence of reassurance. "Hana has never truly liked the court. She has grown to have respect for it now, but she has no interest in playing nicely with them."

The King's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable resonating with the weight of unspoken truths and heartfelt intentions. He understood his daughter's heart, her restless spirit that yearned for the freedom of open skies and uncharted horizons. And he knew she would be happier away from the palace, amidst the untamed beauty of Dragonspire. Hearing her speak of her time in Sunphinx only cemented that thought, her tales of adventure and discovery painting a vivid portrait of a soul unbound by the constraints of courtly decorum. While both of his children were dragon riders, only Hana carried the true blood of the dragon within her veins. She was restless, chaotic, her spirit untamed yet fiercely loyal to her convictions, and Kang-Dae embraced the fire that burned within her, knowing that her journey would lead her to greatness beyond the walls of the Red Keep. 

Their gaze went back to their grown children. Amidst the tranquil beauty of the garden, the newlyweds moved with a grace that spoke of a love pure and true. Theirs was a dance of enchantment, a symphony of two souls entwined in the sweet embrace of matrimony. As the soft strains of music filled the air, they moved as one, their steps guided by the rhythm of their hearts and the melody of their love. In the midst of the gathered guests, their eyes were solely for each other, their gazes locked in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of the bond they shared. The world around them faded into insignificance, for in that moment, there existed only the two of them, cocooned in the warmth of their affection.

With each gentle sway and graceful turn, they painted a portrait of devotion and commitment, their movements a testament to the depth of their love. Amidst the whispers of leaves and the blooming flowers, they wove a tapestry of memories that would linger in their hearts for a lifetime. For Hongjoong and Arya, this was their moment, their celebration of a love that knew no bounds, a love that would endure for eternity. 

As Hana stood beneath the shade of the tree, watching the joyous dance of Hongjoong and Arya, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy gnawing at her heart. Her gaze lingered on the couple, their happiness a stark reminder of the love she yearned for but could not attain. With each graceful movement of the dancers, Hana's thoughts drifted to San, the one she longed for with every fiber of her being. In the depths of her soul, she felt an emptiness, a void that only he could fill. Memories of their shared moments flooded her mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what could have been.

As she lifted the glass of wine to her lips, its taste bitter against her tongue, Hana couldn't shake the feeling of longing that consumed her. Her own wedding loomed on the horizon, but the prospect brought her no joy, only a sense of resignation to a fate she had not chosen.In the quiet solitude of the garden, surrounded by the laughter and merriment of others, Hana's heart echoed with the absence of the one she loved. As Hana observed San chatting amiably with her betrothed and his brother, a tumult of emotions surged within her. His presence, once a source of comfort and joy, now served as a painful reminder of the choices they had made and the consequences they bore.

A part of her longed to approach him, to bridge the distance that had grown between them and seek solace in his familiar presence. Yet, she knew that doing so would only deepen the wounds that already festered within her heart. In the quiet depths of her mind, Hana grappled with the weight of regret, wishing fervently that she could undo the night they had shared, erase the traces of longing that lingered in its wake. The memory of their forbidden union cast a shadow over her thoughts, a constant reminder of the complexities of love and desire. With a heavy heart, Hana turned away, burying her feelings beneath a facade of composure. 

As Park Seonghwa approached Hana, his steps measured and his expression thoughtful, he noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor. Her usually vibrant countenance was overshadowed by an air of melancholy, her eyes betraying a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. Concern etched across his features, he greeted Hana with a gentle smile, his voice soft and reassuring. 

"Princess Hana," he began, his tone warm with genuine concern, "I couldn't help but notice that something weighs heavy on your heart. Is everything alright?"

Hana offered him a fleeting smile, though it failed to reach the depths of her eyes. Despite her efforts to mask her inner turmoil, she found solace in Seonghwa's genuine concern, a testament to the bond they shared as dear friends.

"I appreciate your concern, Seonghwa," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "It's nothing I can't handle." But even as she spoke the words, Hana knew that the burden she carried was not one easily shrugged off. In the quiet corners of her mind, the echoes of regret and longing whispered their relentless refrain, a constant reminder of the choices she had made and the consequences they bore. As Seonghwa followed Hana's gaze, his perceptive eyes honed in on the trio engaged in conversation, their voices carrying amidst the gentle hum of the garden. With a gentle understanding born of years of friendship, he recognized the weight of Hana's unspoken thoughts, the silent tumult that stirred beneath the surface of her calm facade.

"You're thinking about your own wedding that's coming soon," Seonghwa ventured, his voice a soft murmur that bespoke his empathy and understanding. He observed Hana's guarded expression, the subtle tension that lingered in the line of her shoulders, and he offered her a reassuring smile, a silent reassurance that she need not bear her burdens alone.In the quiet of the garden, Hana found herself enveloped by a sense of camaraderie, a shared understanding that transcended words. 

"Something like that." Perhaps she could tell him, maybe he can offer his wisdom. He had known San all his life, he has lived in court ever since he was young. Maybe he could provide insight on what she could do. As the thought flickered through her mind, Hana considered the possibility of confiding in Seonghwa, of seeking his counsel and guidance in navigating the complex currents of her heart. He had been a steadfast presence in her life, a friend whose wisdom and insight she valued above all else. With a silent resolve, she turned to Seonghwa, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"Seonghwa," she began, her voice a soft murmur that carried the weight of her unspoken concerns. "There is something I wish to discuss with you, something that weighs heavily on my heart." In the quiet intimacy of their conversation, Hana found solace in the presence of a trusted confidant, a friend whose unwavering support she knew she could rely on.With a steady gaze and an empathetic ear, Seonghwa listened, his presence a beacon of reassurance amidst the uncertainty that clouded her thoughts.

"I do not love him." Seonghwa gave a puzzled look. "Wooyoung?" He asked for clarity. Hana nodds, "There is another who has taken claim of my heart." Hana looks back to the trio, Seonghwa matches her gaze before realization hits. It was San, she was in love with San.  As understanding dawned in Seonghwa's eyes, a solemn acknowledgment passed between them, unspoken words weaving a tapestry of shared understanding and empathy. In that fleeting moment of revelation, Hana's heart lay bare, her unspoken truth laid bare before her trusted friend.

"For how long?" He asked gently, keeping his voice quiet as to not draw attention. "Years, it started when we were ten and five." Seonghwa was dumbfounded, he had never known. Though he supposes he should not be surprised, for it was probably for Hana's sake as princess and for keeping his friendship with Hongjoong that he kept it so well hidden. The depth of her feelings, hidden beneath layers of duty and obligation, resonated within him, a testament to the complexities of love and longing that transcended the boundaries of their station and circumstance.

"Years..." Seonghwa echoed softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of understanding and empathy. "To carry such a burden in silence, to hold onto a love that dared not speak its name... It must have been a heavy burden to bear."

As the gravity of Hana's confession settled between them, Seonghwa felt a profound sense of respect and admiration for the princess before him. Despite the constraints of her position, despite the expectations placed upon her shoulders, she had dared to love fiercely and unapologetically, her heart a beacon of unwavering devotion in a world fraught with uncertainty and upheaval. Seonghwa regarded Hana with a mixture of compassion and understanding, his words tempered with wisdom gleaned from years of navigating the intricate webs of courtly intrigue and personal relationships.

"Your duty as princess is undeniable, Hana," Seonghwa began, his tone measured yet compassionate. "The responsibilities that accompany your station are not to be taken lightly, for they are the threads that bind the realm together. In marrying Prince Wooyoung, you fulfill not only your duty to your family but also your duty to the realm." He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

"Love, however powerful, cannot always dictate the course of our lives. Sometimes, duty must take precedence, for it is the foundation upon which kingdoms are built," Seonghwa explained, his voice tinged with a solemn reverence for the weight of Hana's choices.

"Yet, that does not mean your heart must remain shackled by duty alone," he added gently. "Find solace in the knowledge that love, in its many forms, has the power to transcend even the most formidable of barriers. While your marriage to Prince Wooyoung may be born of duty, it does not preclude the possibility of finding fulfillment and companionship within its confines."Seonghwa's words carried a sense of quiet reassurance, a reminder that even amidst the complexities of courtly life, there existed moments of joy and connection waiting to be discovered.

"Remember, Hana, that your heart is resilient, capable of finding love and contentment in unexpected places," Seonghwa concluded, his voice imbued with a sense of hope and possibility. "Trust in the strength of your convictions." She gave another look to the trio, this time their gazes meet. 

As he meets Hana's gaze, he feels a pang of longing and regret, tempered by the awareness of the insurmountable obstacles that stand between them. In Hana's eyes, he sees the turmoil of conflicted desires and unspoken yearning. He senses the weight of her duty and the sacrifices she must make for the stability of the realm, even as her heart yearns for something more.Despite the undeniable connection they share, San understands the constraints of their circumstances. As a princess, Hana is bound by duty and obligation, her choices dictated by the expectations of her station and the needs of the realm. He knows that their love, though powerful, cannot easily transcend the barriers that separate them.

Yet, beneath the surface of duty and decorum, San glimpses the flicker of rebellion and defiance in Hana's gaze. He recognizes the fire that burns within her, the same fire that has drawn him to her since they were children. In her eyes, he sees echoes of their shared past and the unspoken promises of a future that may never come to pass. For San, the moment is bittersweet, a reminder of the fragile balance between love and duty, desire and responsibility. As he meets Hana's gaze, he silently pledges to honor their connection, even as he acknowledges the impossibility of their union in the eyes of the world. 

"I'll be back, I'm going to get some fresh air." Hana states, before walking away from the celebration. She walks deeper into the trees, wanting to dwell in her emotions before putting on a happy smile for the rest of the night. As Hana wanders deeper into the embrace of the trees, the sounds of the celebration fade into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft murmur of the night. The cool breeze brushes against her skin, offering a moment of respite from the suffocating weight of expectation and obligation.

In the solitude of the forest, Hana allows herself to unravel, to confront the whirlwind of emotions that churn within her heart. She feels the weight of her impending marriage pressing down upon her, a heavy burden that threatens to engulf her in its suffocating embrace.Memories of her fleeting moments with San flood her mind, each recollection a poignant reminder of the forbidden love that simmers beneath the surface of her carefully curated facade. She recalls the warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his gaze, and the whispered promises of a future that remains forever out of reach. 

"Are you alright princess?" Dammit, she thought. She looks up at the strange voice, already knowing who she will see. "You know the answer to that."  

San's voice, laced with concern, cut through the stillness of the night, his presence casting a shadow upon the moonlit path. Hana's heart quickened at the sight of him, her emotions swirling in a tempest of conflicting desires and unspoken truths. She met his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and longing, the weight of their shared secrets hanging heavy between them like an unbreakable bond. In his eyes, she saw mirrored reflections of her own turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken yearnings that lingered in the spaces between their words.

"I cannot pretend that everything is well," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "The weight of expectation bears heavily upon me, threatening to consume me in its relentless embrace." San's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between them like a fleeting whisper in the night. He reached out to her, his touch a gentle caress against the tumult of her emotions, offering solace in the midst of her turmoil.

"You are not alone in your struggles," he reassured her, his voice a soothing balm against the ache of her uncertainty. "We carry our burdens together, bound by the threads of fate that intertwine our destinies." In the quiet intimacy of the woods, Hana found solace in San's presence, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of her conflicted heart. In his embrace, Hana looks up at him before deciding to lean in. San moves his head to the side, dodging her kiss. "No." He won't look at her, for if he did he would only give in. 

As Hana leaned in, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and longing, she found herself met with San's steadfast refusal. Her frustration simmered beneath the surface, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to unravel the fragile threads of her composure. In the depths of her heart, she knew that San's words held truth, a stark reminder of the boundaries that bound them to their respective destinies.

"We are at your brother's wedding, Hana," San's voice carried a note of urgency, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. "Your betrothed stands only feet away." The reality of his words pierced through the haze of her desires, the weight of obligation pressing down upon her with relentless force. In the flickering light of the night, she saw the echoes of their shared anguish reflected in San's eyes, a silent testament to the sacrifices they were destined to make in the name of duty and honor.

"Take me," Hana's voice trembled with urgency, her words a whispered plea that reverberated through the stillness of the night. "Take me like you did last night. Whisk me away, let our desires become real." With each word she spoke, the distance between them narrowed, the palpable tension of their shared longing enveloping them in its embrace. As San moved to separate them, Hana held him close, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with a gentle touch, her touch igniting a spark that set their souls ablaze with passion.

"Please San, please give me one more night," her voice trembled with desperation, the edges of her words fraying beneath the weight of unspoken longing. "Let's flee, go back to that brothel and stay there. Or, we can fly together to Essos, where a persons name means nothing to it's people." Her words lingered in the air, a whispered plea that reverberated through the quiet serenity of the morning. In the hazy light of day, San's gaze flickered with turmoil, he knew the dangers that lurked in the shadows, the consequences of surrendering to the pull of their desires. 

"Hana," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur amidst the stillness of the morning, urging her to pause, to reconsider the path they tread. For he knew not how long he could resist the siren call of their forbidden love. 

"Please, my love," she whispered back, her voice a fragile echo of the depths of her yearning. Her words hung in the air, a silent plea that reverberated through the quiet solitude of the morning, binding them together in a delicate dance of desire and longing. "Stay, stay with me," she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. "Please, I beg of you. For years you have come and gone, but my heart cannot bear it any longer. I choose you, I want you."

In those words, she bared her soul to him, laying bare the depths of her vulnerability and the extent of her desire. With each plea, she reached out across the expanse that separated them, bridging the gap with the raw intensity of her emotions. San stood before her, his heart a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions. Her words, spoken with such fervent sincerity, stirred something deep within him, igniting a fire that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. In her eyes, he saw the reflection of his own longing, mirrored in the depths of her gaze. He felt the weight of her words, each syllable a dagger that pierced the armor of his resolve, laying bare the vulnerability he had fought so hard to conceal. 

Their lips met in a fervent embrace, a collision of longing and desire that transcended the confines of time and space. In that moment, they were consumed by the intensity of their shared passion, lost in the tumult of their emotions. The kiss spoke volumes, a silent testament to the depth of their connection and the fervor of their desire. It was a union of souls and, for a fleeting instant, the world around them ceased to exist, fading into insignificance against the backdrop of their shared ecstasy. In that timeless moment, there was only the intoxicating rush of desire, the electric spark that ignited between them. They separated, only for moment as to catch their breath. 

"I love you, my heart," San murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "I would die for you, I would kill for you. Whatever you desire, I would grant it."

His words hung in the air, thick with the promise of forbidden ecstasy and unbridled passion.With a hunger born of years of longing, San closed the distance between them once again, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that set her soul ablaze. In that searing embrace, they lost themselves in the intoxicating rush of their passion, their bodies moving in a rhythm as old as time itself.As their kiss deepened, the world around them faded into oblivion, consumed by the fiery intensity of their desire. In that timeless embrace, they became lost in each other, their bodies pressed together in a fervent embrace that spoke volumes of the love that burned between them. As they separated once again, a chasm of despair opened between them, widening with each passing moment.

"But I cannot grant you this," San whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow as he gently pushed her away. Hana recoiled, her heart breaking with every inch of distance that grew between them. Desperation clawed at her, urging her to cling to him, to hold onto the fleeting moments they shared.

"No, no," she pleaded, her voice trembling with unshed tears as she reached out for him. But San remained resolute, his grip firm as he held her at arm's length, his eyes reflecting the anguish that tore at his soul.

"Please, don't make this harder," he implored, his voice a fragile whisper amidst the storm of emotions that raged within him. With each word, his heart shattered anew, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of their impossible love.

"I am the princess. I am the King's daughter," Hana declared, her voice cracking with the weight of her sorrow. "I demand you, Lord San, to stay here. I demand you to remain with me." But even as she spoke, she knew the futility of her words, for their love was a flame that burned too brightly, consuming everything in its path. And as San's lips met hers one last time, she tasted the bittersweetness of their parting, the bitter sting of farewell lingering on her lips.

"I will always love you, never forget that," he whispered, his voice a haunting echo of the love they shared. And as he turned away, his heart heavy with the weight of their goodbye, Hana watched him fade into the shadows, her soul tethered to his in an eternal bond of love and longing.

-------

The wedding day dawned with golden rays of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow upon the bustling halls of the palace. For Hana, the day held the promise of new beginnings, the start of a life bound to another through vows spoken and promises made. As she adorned herself in the finery befitting a princess on her wedding day, her heart weighed heavy with the absence of the one she loved.

Amidst the flurry of preparations and the whispered congratulations that filled the air, Hana moved with a grace born of duty rather than desire. She smiled for the guests, her laughter ringing hollow amidst the jubilant celebrations. But behind the facade of happiness, a silent ache gnawed at her soul, a silent reminder of the love she had lost.

As she stood before the altar, her hand clasped in Wooyoung's, she felt the weight of their impending union settle upon her like a heavy cloak. The words of the ceremony washed over her, a blur of solemn vows and whispered promises that echoed hollow in her ears. Amidst the cheers and applause that greeted their union, Hana felt a pang of longing grip her heart, a silent lament for the love that could never be. For in the depths of her soul, she knew that her heart would always belong to another, a shadowy figure lost to the winds of time and fate.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers, and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his, and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

#ateez #choi san #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #choi san x OC #GOT #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd #TheHeir

[hanafubukki]

For a book labeled “lord of the abyss”

The lord has really been lost to the abyss huh?

He’s been stuck in the abyss for so long you can barely see him.

You can even say the abyss has swallowed him whole.

It’s so endless there’s no end in sight to this darkness nor him.

Maybe he needs a silvery light to free him from this eternal darkness

Maybe we need a strong and silvery powered light for us to break through this abyss of darkness to see him??

To light a pathway to the Prince(ss)

Do you think if we all held hands we can reach in and drag him out??

#I am coping through puns lmaooo #yes the silvery light is silver because silver hair and the whole lilia saying he’ll be the light that will guide the darkness something #but also I love puns hahaha #malleus draconia the true sleeping beauty princess that needs a knight to save him #hanas thoughts

[rattleroze]

Who wants to read a short essay of my ideas about the education and careers of the Emeritus brothers in the structure of the Satanic Church?

More under the cut

The “Traditionalist” structure of the Catholic Church. This is also (roughly) the structure I am operating under when describing the Church of Satan in this context.

The education of the Emeritus children in the teachings and philosophies of the Satanic Church would start as early as possible, and would be incorporated into a curriculum along with your run-of-the-mill early education staples as soon as they reached schooling age. This curriculum would be administered by members of the clergy based at and in the areas surrounding the Abbey, and through their elementary school years they would attend classes alongside other children, both those of clergy and members of the church (laypeople).

(Personal note: Christian and especially Catholic education organizations are notoriously bad at teaching children in a way that provides them with a well-rounded education without fully indoctrinating them into the religion in question, which is kind of the point. Their goal is typically to shape children into good christians/catholics while also meeting the government-mandated basics of their K-12 education. The education plan I’m laying out here for the Ghost church bears a lot of similarity to that style of religious education, and may represent an ideal that a lot of these christian/catholic orgs would drool over. However, because Satanism is in general a religion that bases itself in individualism and logical thought, I believe that the system set out here would comfortably fit into a religious framework while also prioritizing a quality and well-rounded education. End rant.

**Disclaimer: I am not an education or religious studies expert. Take my opinions with a grain of salt.)

The Emeritus children would play parts in the worship services of the Church throughout their childhoods, including helping to prepare for service, acting as altar boys, and singing in choir. They would be encouraged to immerse themselves in the activities of the Church as much as possible in order to build an understanding of every level of Church operations in preparation for their future leadership roles.

Around the age of 12, the Emeritus children’s educational trajectory would begin to deviate from that of their peers, and they would begin to incorporate more and deeper aspects of religious and esoteric study into their curriculum. This would include Church documents and writings that are typically not public information and some that may or may not be hereditary teachings exclusive to the Emeritus bloodline. This period of their education would be explicitly in preparation for a secretive blood oath ceremony undertaken at the age of 15 that represents and reaffirms the Emeritus bloodline’s eternal devotion to the service of the Dark Lord. This involves ceremonial scarification and exposure to unholy enlightenment that results in trauma to and loss of pigment in the left eye. This ceremony, along with the education received during this period, qualifies the Emeritus children as Bishops within the Satanic Church, although the title is largely honorary.

(Note: There is, of course, a pathway for non-family members to achieve the rank of Bishop and higher within the Church, but it is not typically open to students under the age of 25 and does not involve the Oath ceremony. As the Emeritus bloodline has been historically blessed by Satan and entrusted with operation of the Church for generations, the ascension to Bishop is accelerated for direct descendants.)

Following the Oath ceremony, the Emeritus children begin to finalize their general education and pivot to take on more responsibility as members of the Clergy. They undertake more intensive courses of study on a variety of topics regarding the magical and esoteric histories of the Church and translations of essential texts, as well as more abstract philosophical topics. They may also elect to specialize in a particular topic of study (think college major) that can help further guide their activities within the Church. 

(Note: Primo elected to focus on practical magick and alchemy, with a particular interest in herbalism. Terzo chose to study foreign and occult language and translation. Secondo didn’t choose any topic in particular, but found he had a particular knack for delivering engaging and thought-provoking sermons.)

The Emeritus children continue on their paths within the Church, becoming more comfortable with their duties as teachers and spiritual guides to its members, throughout their 20s. As adults, they are allowed to come and go from the Abbey as they please and engage with civilians as they wish, but they are encouraged and expected to bring the teachings of the Church with them and share the gifts of Satan whenever appropriate. (Note: Satanic teachings in general draw distinct boundaries regarding when and if it is appropriate to proselytize.) They are expected to participate in Church administration and services in a more hands-on fashion and in general act as outward-facing pillars of the faith. They are also encouraged to take on extra-curricular responsibilities, such as traveling to satellite congregations or helping with the Church’s children’s programs.

The culmination of this period is a chance for the Emeritus children to travel abroad as a research and missionary opportunity. Missionary work is not something the Church of Satan prioritizes, largely because they find it unnecessary and obnoxious. However, as part of their preparation for the Papacy, the Emeritus children are afforded the opportunity to spend their 30th year as a vector of Satan (within the bounds of the rules regarding proselytizing, of course) and/or assisting any foreign arm of the Church that is willing to host them. The foreign offices are, historically, receptive to the opportunity, as playing host to one of Satan’s chosen children can confer certain advantages.

(Note: Primo elected to not take part in this opportunity, as by the time his 30th birthday rolled around, he was knee-deep in parenting his younger brothers.)

Starting at the age of 30, the upper echelons of the Clergy can begin to evaluate Emeritus children for elevation to the rank of Cardinal. (Note: This is different for non-family clergy members, who must be at least age 35 and have been ordained for a minimum of five years.) The sitting Papa and his inner circle will look at each child on their own merit, taking into account any significant writings, accomplishments, or other notable deeds done in service to the Church, both at home and abroad, if applicable. If their career is deemed exemplary, they will be appointed as a Cardinal. If anything discounts them from an appointment, their case is put aside until the next year.

(Note: despite not being a member of the bloodline, Copia was first evaluated for Cardinalcy at the age of 30 due to some string-pulling by Sister Imperator. He was deferred for two years before gaining his appointment.)

Being appointed as a Cardinal comes with many advantages, including a private office space in the Abbey and broader administrative powers to channel funds and influence into projects as one sees fit. It also, typically, allows for a member of the clergy to step back from the public sphere and focus more on the administrative aspects if they so choose– that is, except for the Emeritus children, who, as the defacto faces of the Church’s leadership, are still expected to participate in services and ceremonies, as well as the inner politics of the Church itself. This is, arguably, the most demanding position for a member of the Emeritus bloodline, but historically speaking, it is the best position for those in anticipation of becoming Papa, as it provides for the smoothest transition between roles.

#ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #sister imperator #ghost headcanons #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #yes I am autistic how could you tell #rattleroze

[cheerfulnihilismqualitysuffering]

Most mothers I know feel like they're drowning on a regular basis, but we are mostly good at not talking about it and presenting a facade of competence. I can see them drowning behind the wall of pictures of their smiling children. No pictures of them, though. They don't talk about themselves. There's never a mention of difficulty or struggles, or if they do it's a sanitized version, or a vague post that smells like fear of judgement.

I ponder the damaging nature of our cultural values in America on a regular basis because I sincerely believe the pathway towards sanity is to deculture yourself as an adult. American values are rooted in the unholy triumvirate of puritanism, the bizarre wealth doctrine that suggests that the Lord shows favor by bestowing "ca$h money, son," and, of course, the worst institution that humans have never been able to give up, slavery.

How do you deculture? Reject the cultural dictates that demand that everyone follow a similar and comprehensible pathway. You don't have to go to college, get a mortgage, get married, have kids. You can opt out of the expected pathways. It's difficult because there's no model, no one to look to to see how to do it - but it also liberating because you get to choose what your life looks like. Instead of a life path that's clearly laid out with no deviations - so that you can see from this moment until the end of your life with a boring clarity, you can embrace groundlessness (as Pema Chodron put it). The amount of criticism you receive will increase exponentially, but you'll also be able to find people who accept you fully for who you are because you become ruthlessly authentic. Then, the only people that want to stick around are the people that really actually do like who you are as a person and not what you do for them or the image or idea that you project that they want to associate with themselves for marketing and branding purposes.

Humans used to be adventurous and now there is a very loud proportion of our population that thinks it's okay to just demand that everyone believes and does only that which we ourselves feel comfortable with. The only thing I can't abide is when someone tries to force me to live and believe as they do. I can't tolerate living with that kind of fear. It's exhausting to think about.

Wealthy people hoard their money like hoarders collect garbage. A healthy system depends of circulation. Stagnation is death. Eternal, unending growth is the definition of cancer. Instead of collecting money, try collecting life experience. When you're dying you leave behind any material wealth you accumulated. The only thing that ever truly belongs to you are the vivid experiences you can string together to tell your life story, and the individuals whose lives you touched in some way.

A friend of mine ended his life a few weeks ago. I wish he could see the people still posting pictures or memories with him. He had a rich wealth of friendship and connection, but struggled in poverty like the rest of us. And it breaks my heart that we continue to participate in a society that teaches us that even in the face of a wealth of friendship, love, and connection, we are unworthy unless we hoard our wealth and exploit others to enrich ourselves.

#late stage capitalism #deculture #the strugge is real #we live in a society #internet culture #chronic mental illness #what have we done #motherhood #groundlessness

[calekinnieplus]

HEYYYYY hi. Didn't have time to read Anything yesterday, but I read like 3 ½ hours today, so YAY! Reached chapter 828.

What happened today, you ask? (No you don't lol)

Well! Gehrman Sparrow proceeded to terrify the Tarot Club members by consistently providing Sequence 5 Beyonder characteristics almost every meeting. Last meeting, he put THREE characteristics on sale. And where did he get them, you ask? (no you don't)

WELL! Alger and Gehrman actually went ahead and explored the primitive island with a lot of rare creatures. And in there, two things of note happened. One was that they discovered Another Card of Blasphemy, Tyrant. Which corresponds to the Lord of Storms. And thanks to that, Alger now knows the Sequence 4 potion formula and the ritual. They also had some good loot there, like Beyonder characteristics.

Second thing was the mural. An ancient mural depicting the ancient sun god, also known as the Creator. And he was supposedly being eaten by the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Lord of Storms. Didn't expect the origin story to be This literal, ngl LMAO

Like, DAMN?? Poor Derrick, after finding out about it from the Tarot Gathering, he was going through an existential crisis or smth. Actually, most of them were in shock. Unsurprisingly. A valid reaction tbh.

Oh, and the way Klein connected the dots from the Twilight Hermit Order to that unique island?? I don't say often enough how SMART he is?? Badass, yes. I say it often, because he genuinely is. But, although I am aware of it and always love that about him, he's so Incredibly Smart!! My boy <33

On another note, Hazel somehow got involved with a demigod from the Marauder pathway? Is that what's going on with her and the sewers?

Another thing! Dwayne Dantès! Even though it's his role now, I haven't mentioned much about him. It's so funny how, even while visibly older, the Rizz Klein has is too good. He's out there charming all the ladies. Wouldn't be surprised if some men, too ;)

Will Auceptin is also closer to being born !! Hehe he's so fun, I like him. It's refreshing in a way. He's such a prankster, a silly, goofy kid. Absolutely adorable.

Oh yeah, Audrey made an off-hand mention- IT'S ONLY BEEN A YEAR? OR ACTUALLY, NOT EVEN A YEAR? I mean, it makes sense. There was just one New Years. But damn, so much happened in a year. Klein advanced from Sequence 9 to 5 in a Goddamn YEAR. Incredible. The other members, too! They're going STRONG!

Welp! I think that's all for today. Actually, I think I'm putting these daily updates on pause. College is starting tomorrow, so I doubt I'll be able to consistently read 4-5 hours per day.

Well, I'll definitely continue reading as I have done until now. I'll continue posting the quotes I want to share, ones that amused me, surprised me, made me think of something. If I Do have a day where I read a lot, I might do an update, to keep things straight. Otherwise, this little habit will stop.

But not the binging, of course. The show must go on >:))

Praise be the Fool!

#vertigone rambles #lotm #lord of the mysteries #binging lotm #lotm spoilers #lotm volume 4 #klein moretti #gehrman sparrow #dwayne dantès

[talonabraxas]

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu Talon Abraxas

Held by ropes of pure gold in a shrine in the greatest Temple of Divine Light of the Motherland of Mu was the gigantic Golden Disc of the Sun. Before it, on an altar, which was a pillar carved out of solid stone, there blazed the eternal white Light of the crystalline Maxin Flame, the Divine Limitless Light of Creation. About 30,000 B.C. the Maxin Light went out on the Altar because of the evil of some of the priest-scientists of Great Mu. The Sun Disc remained in its shrine, however, until the time of the final destruction and submergence of 10-12,000 B.C.

As we said before, this Disc was not merely used as an object of adoration, nor was it the symbolic representation of our Solar Sun. It was also a scientific instrument, and the secret of its power came originally out of the dim past in the time of the Elder Race. In part, it was an object of adoration because it served in ritualistic temple services as a focus or point of concentration for those meditating. It also served as a symbolic representation of the Great Central, or Cosmic Sun, which, in turn, symbolizes the Creator. As a scientific instrument it was used in connection with a complex system of mirrors of pure gold, reflectors and lenses to produce healing in the bodies of those who were inside the Temple of Light. Indeed, that is why it was called Temple of Divine Light. Besides all these functions, the Sun Disc was a focal point for concentration of a dimensional quality. When the Disc was struck by a priest-scientist, who understood its operation, it would set certain vibratory conditions which could even bring about great earthquakes and, if continued long enough, might bring about a change in the rotation of the Earth itself. When attuned to a person’s particular frequency pattern it could transport this person wherever he wished to go merely by the mental picture he created. It was, therefore, an object of transportation.

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu was not made of ordinary gold, but was transmuted gold, and unusual in its qualities in that it was a translucent metal similar, evidently, to the “metal you can almost look through” of the UFOs.

Lord Muru brought this Disc with him when he journeyed to Lake Titicaca, and it was placed in a subterranean temple at the Monastery of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays. Here, it was used not only by the students of life daily, but also by the Masters and Saints from the Mystery Schools throughout the world so that they might be teleported back and forth to sit in Council or to partake of some Transmission Ceremony.

When the Incas came to Peru, and come they did, for they were not native Quechua Indians, but came from a land across the Pacific, they established a highly spiritual society on top of the ruins of the great culture that had belonged to the Colonial Empire of Lemuria. The High Priests of the Sun of Tawantinsuyo–the name of the Inca Empire–built their Coricancha or Temple of the Sun exactly on top of an older structure dating from very remote times. From ancient records in their homeland across the Pacific they learned of the Golden Sun Disc of Mu and they knew it had been removed from the doomed continent and taken to a new land where Lord Muru had founded an Inner Retreat or Sanctuary.

Once in Peru, the Incan High Priests searched long for the Disc but were never able to locate it. However, when they had reached the place on the Spiritual Pathway where they could use the Disc to the benefit of all their people–the native, indigenous tribes they had amalgamated into an empire–as it had been used on Mu, then it was presented to them for their daily use in their Temple of the Sun at Cuzco.

The Inca Emperor at the time was a Divine Mystic or Saint, and he made a pilgrimage to the Monastery at Lake Titicaca, and there Aramu-Muru, as Spiritual Head or Abbot of the Brotherhood, gave the Disc to the Emperor. Several Brothers from the lake were directed to journey with him to the capital of the empire, Cuzco. Here the Disc was placed in a shrine that had been prepared for it, and it was secured with golden ropes as it had been held in ancient Lemuria. Even today, the holes through which these ropes passed can be seen at the Convent of Santo Domingo in Cuzco which is built on top of the Pre-Inca and Inca Sun Temple.

The Incas called their Temple of the Sun Coricancha, which means Place of Gold or Garden of Gold. This was because of the magnificent, solid gold, life-sized figures of men, animals, plants and flowers that were placed in a real Garden of Gold adjacent to the Sun Temple. But the priest-scientists called the Temple Amarucancha. On some of the stones at Santo Domingo today you can still see carved serpents (amarus) and that is the reason, they say, that some knew the Temple as Amarucancha, or, Place of the Serpents. However, that is not the real reason. Amaru is a form of Aramu, which is one of the names of Lord Maru. There are large snakes in the Andes which are still called amarus. Lord Maru’s name concerns a snake because his title is similar to that of another world teacher, Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent of the Aztec Empire in Mexico. Therefore, the Temple of the Sun at Cuzco was named for Aramu-Muru, head of the Monastery at Lake Titicaca, for it was he who enabled them to have, at last, the Golden Disc in their Sun Temple. Within this greater Temple there were smaller temples or shrines dedicated to the Moon, the Twelve Planets (Stars), and to the Seven Rays.

The Brotherhood of the Seven Rays became the leading force in the spiritual life of the Incas, and they learned the use of the Disc from ancient records left by the wise Pre-Incas who were Lemurian colonists. The Disc remained in the Coricancha at Cuzco until word reached the priests that Don Francisco Pizarro had landed in Peru. Knowing full well what was going to take place, sorrowfully they removed the Disc from the Cuzco shrine and returned it to its place in the subterranean temple at the Monastery. The Spanish conquerors never saw it.

On January 21, 1956, Beloved Archangel Michael of the Sun gave an address at His Retreat at Banff, in the Canadian Rockies. The following is an excerpt:

Many of the Temples used on Atlantis and Lemuria have been raised into the etheric realms. Some day they will be lowered again when man is spiritually ready to receive them. It has happened that one or more of the precious stones used in the construction of these Temples have been put in the hands of a High Priest or Head of a Spiritual Order where they form a connection with the Celestial Hierarchy. There are several dozens of the stones from My own Temple in the possession of individuals at various points on the Earth’s surface today…

The Golden Sun Disc of Mu is one of the precious stones referred to by Lord Michael. And it was put in the hands of the Head of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays, Aramu-Muru. The Disc will remain at Lake Titicaca until that day ‘when man is spiritually ready’ to receive it and to use it once again. On that day the Golden Disc will be taken out of its subterranean chamber and placed high above the Monastery of the Brotherhood. For many miles the pilgrims of the New Dawn will see it once again reflecting the glorious rays of the Sun. Coming from it will be an undeniable tone of purest harmony that will bring many followers of light up the foot-worn path to the ancient gate of the Brotherhood of the Seven Rays, and they shall enter the Valley of the Blue Moon for fellowship in the Father.

Excerpt from Secret Of The Andes

[dreadfutures]

happy happy HAPPY FRIDAY BLUE💜💜💜 I'm still on my dirthxchel kick, so could we perhaps see those two with: "one lives in the hope of becoming a memory." from the quotes about death prompts?

happy writing friend, mwah🥰

Thank you so very much!!!! For @dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Ixchel Lavellan x Dirthamen (#sunbird, Elvhenan AU)

Rating: um there is an off-screen mass sacrifice mentioned

words: 1841

notes: imagine this is the Haligtree from Elden Ring, at blazing sunset.

-:-:-

The sun filters slantwise through the great tree and paints the world in blood and flame and gold. She finds the metaphor flitting into her mind before she can stop it, and then she thinks that perhaps it is not so much a metaphor as the truth. It would require a Dream to discern if that is so, but before she can ask her companion, he has climbed up onto the stone balustrade that guards against the precipitous drop—and he drops.

She is still unused to these things, and she flinches toward the edge, half expecting to see him falling. Logically, she knows what she will find: her lord drawing the Fade close to warp his form, the darkest of spectral rainbows made into corporeal feathers to grant him flight. That is indeed the case, and today he has let himself embody his spirit-self fully, for gone are all traces of manhood as this serpentlike raven flaps its mighty wings and takes off over this once-great city.

Ixchel clambers onto the stone railing as well, brushing aside rust-red leaves and the bleached-white remains of vines, and takes a seat. Dirthamen warned her not to stray far into this place ("the Husk," Deceit had called it) until he has done his reconnaissance, so she will keep vigil here over this vision of decrepit beauty. On either side of her, braziers burn with eternal flame, and as Dirthamen flies through the city, more light up in response to his presence. They blaze, too hot for the weather; this place is in the early stages of a perpetual autumn, where the summer sun stickily lingers as long as it can. Or perhaps this place was never meant for this season. She has heard of places crafted so that time may never touch them and where the perfect moment is preserved, undying, as long as its dreamers live.

It would be difficult to say. As far as Ixchel can tell, all life has fled this place. No birds call, no reptiles whisper, no insects hum. The only sound is of the dead leaves falling, and the distant whisper and groan of the giant boughs above her jostled by the wind.

She imagines what it might be like to see the city in a more…vigorous state. The bones are there in the stone of this tiered city, ringed around the petrified tree; each level is connected by raised pathways, each featuring a watch tower or bell tower (or both) that points skyward, roofs jagged as though to spear the very heavens. She imagines the sounds of those bells and the occassions that might call for them to ring, although from what she can see they are tangled in the same dead, dry vines that have infected the veins of this place. Carpets of leaves cascade like waterfalls down the intricately-carved walls of the towers, and they glow blood red in the dying light of day.

She looks down, following their spillage, at the raised, circular avenues that top each of the walls. They are so wide a drake might crawl down one, wings comfortably unfurled, and she wonders if that was who once lived here. She knows drakes like cliffs honeycombed with caves, and beneath these avenues, set in the walls, are dwellings and plazas open to the air—perhaps they are similar enough to satisfy spirits-made-serpent?

As her vision scans down the face of a wall, she sees vases full of wilted flowers and mostly wooden stems, and every surface—yes, every surface bears the faintest trace of gilding, long stripped away by the elements.

Shadows fill the courtyards and alleys far, far below, at the bottom of this ringed basin of a city. She can see the ghosts of once-grand trees (mere sprouts, in comparison to the one this city clings to) dimly lit with the glow that pervades the air, reflected off the dull, dead walls. She wonders if the sun ever touches the ground nestled so deep within these walls or if, instead, these trees had to be sustained by caretakers with constant, living magic.

Outside the city walls lies a vast sea of silver water. It is the only thing here that is not burnished, browned, by this static sun. Somehow it, and the sky above, remain pale and nearly white, untouched. Ixchel is almost dizzied, looking at the motion of the waves and their ephemeral caps. They break against the bases of watchtowers that stick out like spokes from the city's rings, connected by thin, crumbling bridges; the waves and the wind contrast with the stillness of the Husk, the crypt, the empty echo of a civilization.

Ixchel is startled from her reverie by another motion, this time from the periphery of her vision. She nearly loses her balance but catches herself with an iron grip on the cracked granite balustrade, and a startled gasp leaves her as she looks to where Dirthamen approaches. His black cloak is covered in dust, as is his hair—or maybe ash, white as it is. He seems not to have noticed her fumble, for his eyes are downcast and a pensive frown creases his brow.

"Did trouble find you?" she asks in a low voice as she hefts herself back onto the appropriate side of the railing.

He does not even glance at her. "None," he replies, "nor did it find those who once lived here."

Dirthamen extends his hand for her, and she reaches out to meet him.

Into her palm, he presses something small.

It is…

"A seed?" she guesses.

Dirthamen nods. "The center of the tree was once reachable by pathways hidden in the city," he says, "but no longer. There is only thick overgrowth where those portals once lay, and I was only able to breach it from above." He took a heavy breath. "It is like the crater of a volcano but so much deeper, and it is scorched and blackened within. I thought to alight upon the bottom, but I sank into a sea of ash so deep and cold I might drown."

Ixchel can almost feel her throat close, breath stolen at the thought, and she clutches the seed closer. She can feel how precious it is, if it came from such carnage.

Her lord blinks his yellow eyes with lashes frosted by ash, too.

"The people here worshiped the Sun, for they grew up around this tree from the time it was a sapling, and they afforded its might to the light it basked in. Thus, when it began to die, they called upon the Eldest of the Sun himself to burn it all."

Dirthamen swallows, then licks his dry and cracking lips. He still stares at the seed in her hand, though she does not think he sees it, or her.

"And them in it."

His words catch in his throat, and Ixchel cannot tell if this discovery makes his voice hitch with swallowed sobs or choked laughter or both. Ixchel is horrified at the thought—how many people must have lived in this city and within the great tree, and what might drive them to such a terrible death by fire. But she bites her tongue, because no matter her unease with it, she knows there is no end to bloodshed in Elvhenan…but sometimes it is given for a beautiful purpose.

She hopes that this is one such time. Dirthamen's manner is not reassuring, however. There are tears in his owl-like eyes; he scrubs at them with the back of his hand quickly, but they splatter across the parched stone and leave unmistakable dark scars in the dust.

"What I thought were cries of anguish rose up, an entire civilization bound in ecstasy and gratitude to Elgar'nan's fire." His smile is joyful, and agonized, all together at once. "The seeds of this tree are coated in a thick resin that is nearly indestructible. Generations of its caretakers collected them. And when it came time for them to die—when they gathered within the hollow of this tree—each resident held a seed in their mouths. Their voices lifted, their senses overcome, they died in flame so that these seeds might find new life!"

Dirthamen draws a shaky breath and pushes back his hair from his forehead, looking up at the Husk with wild eyes. More tears drip from his chin and water the stones beneath their feet. "Isn't it beautiful, Davahn?" he asks. "They freed each seed with their death, and now they await fertile soil—soil that I can give them in my orchard, and across the Fade and the Waking, in places known only to me—where each one may live in hope of becoming a new memory!"

His words are spoken like a fervent oath or prayer, perhaps to the spirits that hold memories of this place, or perhaps to the seeds, or perhaps to the tree itself. Ixchel cannot deny that something in this tale has touched her, too. It still seems senseless to her, but…maybe it is the senselessness of the sacrifice itself that gives it weight. Those lives, if willingly given, put a hefty price on every seed. They demanded action, reverence, remembrance.

They demanded their hope to be fulfilled.

Dirthamen is not one to let such acts be performed in vain, Ixchel knows. But for the first time now… Ixchel feels drawn not merely to bear witness to the strange customs of the Elvhen, as she has before. Instead, she feels called to participate.

There is no one else, after all.

"How can I help?" she asks.

Dirthamen looks back at her with an expression of unschooled shock.

She tightens her fist around the seed, against her breast. "I was here," she says. "I heard the story. You have made me responsible for these memories by telling me, and I want to help."

The sun is setting. It catches the tear tracks on Dirthamen's cheeks like the cracked and fading gilding on the walls,  like he is as ancient and brittle as the land they tread. But in his eyes is a heat, a flame, that is more alive than she has seen it in weeks.

"Very well," he says. "I would not deny you, vun'ean. Let us begin our first task: gathering the rest of the seeds.

-:-:-

Later, she will ask him what and why 'vun'ean.' He will not quite look at her as he describes her: framed by the flaming sunset, the ferocity of her gaze in the face of such a monumental task, the way she speaks to him—as she has always spoken to him—as an equal. She is more fearless and far quicker than he can predict, in spite of or despite her status…like vun'ean. Little sunbird.

"A sparrow?" she repeats, fists gripping the hem of her dress tightl so that she will not spill the seeds gathered in it like an apron.

He does not look at her, but she can hear his smile.

#da drunk writing circle #lavellan x dirthamen #dragon age fanfic #sunbird #ixchel lavellan #elvhenan au

[rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw]

Sunday Morning Session

With Songs of Praise

Jeffrey R Holland

We don’t use the cross because the atonement is more important and we want to focus on the fact that He rose again

Because we are a restored church, the restored new testament church, we do not use the iconography that came about much later

The lives of our people must be the symbol of our faith

If any will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me

The crosses we bear, rather than the one we wear

Lgbtq+ mention and not in the best way

J Annette Dennis 1st counselor relief society

Jack and his dog – how just how do you not notice that? – graphic injury warning

Nothing you do makes much of a difference if you do not have charity

We are commanded to love others, not judge them. Let’s lay down that heavy burden – it isn’t ours to carry.

“Who am I to judge another, when I walk imperfectly?”

Do not judge anyone for anything about themselves – race, culture, sexual orientation, gender, religion, etc.

Each person on this earth is a child of God, and He loves each one.

You Can Make the Pathway Bright

Gerrit W. Gong

Do you remember believing in happily ever after, or at least wanting to? And then we “grew up” (dude I don’t think I did though – kinda obsessed with retellings of fairytales lol)

We believe or want to believe that happy and forever are out there and possible

It is as part of Heavenly Fathers plan

It makes all the difference to know who our family are

1st we are offered the opportunity of resurrection

2nd we can repent through the atonement

3rd God knows and loves us perfectly

4th the Lord gives us divine opportunity to become like Him

5th a symmetry in repentance and forgiveness helps us to forgive others

However we may feel as we begin, we feel whole as we trust Him

Joseph W. Sitati

When we align ourselves with these eternal realities, we feel more peace and harmony in our lives

We find heavens sociality in each other

Story of Korihor

Prioritize the glory of God, not the glory of the world

How we come into this world is less important than who we are when we leave it

Humility before God is a foundational aspect for His disciples

Discipleship is not a burden but a joy

Love God above all things, and love others as you love yourself

When we focus on loving God and others, we understand better our own divine selves and learn how to love ourselves more

Learn to know and honor God and share His love with posterity – will bring great blessings.

We Thank The O God for a Prophet

Steven J. Lund

Talking about FSY

When immersed in the love of God and learning about Christ for a whole week, they don’t come back the same

Finding joy in this world of prophesied destruction without becoming part of the world and leaving behind the distractions of lesser things

After I leave, what do I do to remain strong? How can loving God turn into lasting discipleship

Keep doing at home what you have learned to do here

Your discipleship isn’t just a slogan on a t-shirt – it has become a true part of your life

You don’t have to wear the badge to bear His name

David A. Bednar

The story only conveys divine truth to the receiver as they seek to understand

The parable of the royal marriage feast – Matthew 22:1-14 is the parable, 15-22 is the pharisees response

We as guests are invited (commanded) to attend by the Lord

He gives us garments from His own wardrobe

Why aren’t you wearing what has been provided for you?

Do you have any reasonable excuse? Do not be put in a place where you remain speechless

We have God’s call, and our individual response to His call

We can choose to be chosen, through the righteous exercise of our own agency

Many are called but few are chosen – D&C 121: 34-36

The things of the world are a short-term preoccupation – especially when you consider the eternity of God’s timing in the gospel

How Great the Wisdom and the Love

President Russell M. Nelson

Experiencing the love of them is vital

Many things are coming in these coming days

Where do you find rest in the Savior?

Matthew 11: 28-30

John 16: 33

Because He overcame the world for each of us, we can overcome our own selves

Despite the destractions and distortions that swirl around us, you can find rest, meaning peace

What does it mean to overcome the world?

Overcoming the temptation to care more about things of this world than things of God

Trusting the doctrines of Christ more than the philosophies of men

Does not mean becoming perfect, or that your problems will go away, or that you won’t make mistakes

But your resistance to sin will increase, and your heart will soften as your faith in Jesus Christ increases

How do we do it?

The natural man is an enemy to God – Mosiah 3:19

Anytime you do things that people of the world wouldn’t do you are overcoming the world

Living the doctrine of Christ and creating spiritual momentum

While the world insists certain things bring happiness, they do not! They cannot! They are a hallow substitute. It is exhausting to seek happiness where you can never find it!

Christ has the power to lift you above this world

How does overcoming the world bless our lives?

Entering into a covenant relationship with God binds us to Him, in a way that makes everything about life easier

There is still opposition

You have access to His strength and redeeming power

Take charge of your own testimony, work for it, nurture it, feed it truth. Do not fill it with philosophies of men

Watch for miracles

How does the temple teach you to rise above this fallen world?

Choose Jesus Christ over the world

Letting God prevail in your life = greater peace, confidence, joy, and rest

Ended with blessings for us

Let Us All Press On

#ldsconf #tumblrstake #general conference #genconf #church of jesus christ of latter day saints #sunday morning session notes #reminder that I will be in person for sunday afternoon and notes will take a while

[lennart11412]

4 But ye -ye have not been steadfast, nor done the commandments of the Lord, But ye have turned away and spoken proud and hard words With your impure mouths against His greatness. Oh, ye hard-hearted, ye shall find no peace.

5 Therefore shall ye execrate your days, And the years of your life shall perish, And the years of your destruction shall be multiplied in eternal execration, And ye shall find no mercy.

1 How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in God's excellent Word! What more can be said than to you God hath said, to you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

2 "Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, and will still give thee aid; I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

3 "When through the deep waters I call thee to go, the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow; for I will be near thee, thy troubles to bless, and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

4 "When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, my grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply; the flame shall not hurt thee; I only design thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.

5 "The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I will not desert to its foes; that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I'll never, no, never, no, never forsake."

[lichdragon-fortissax]

My take on the Marika and Radagon thing is that Marika was always bigender, but a mix of pressure from the Greater Will going into a sorting frenzy and her desire to be on the frontlines clashing with her needing to stay behind and rule her newly-conquered territories meant that she eventually just split her male identity off from the rest of herself so that they could essentially be in two places at once. Marika was already known as the coming Eternal Queen at that point, so the female half decided to be the one to stay behind with the Elden Beast, while the male half took on the name of Radagon and went to fight the battles he waged on the Lands Between.

The thing is, being a god-queen is a lot different from being Just Some Dude, and the differences started to influence each half pretty much immediately. Marika was expected to remain a cool, detached, stoic leader, while Radagon was essentially allowed to do anything that he wished as long as it would benefit the Golden Order in some way. Such a schism between their duties, expectations, and the way they were allowed to carry themselves started to shape each half into different people entirely, even though both Radagon and Marika were the exact same person upon the initial split. Radagon was essentially allowed to be as wild and emotional and passionately devoted as he wished, which made him grow more bold and open in his ambitions, whereas Marika grew colder and more jaded as she began to juggle the direct will of the Greater Order alongside court politics. They shared a mind, though the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of each half felt like an easily-ignored faded daydream to the other, but a schism began to grow.

And then, of course, they took separate pathways, and that pretty much sealed the deal in their march towards individual personhood. Radagon met Rennala on the battlefield, and instantly fell in love with her strength, keen intellect, and beauty, taking her as his wife, and ending the war with Liurnia. Marika's hand was offered to worthy champions after the bulk of the war was over, and was won by Hoarah Loux, the strongest warrior of the bunch. Radagon lead a happy life away from the stress of the capital, while Marika dealt with the pressures of the Golden Order slowly crunching down on the aspects of the Crucible magics that her husband's knights specialized in, a battle that culminated when she birthed two Omen sons, and had to chain them within the Shunning-Grounds. Radagon got to watch his sons and daughter grow up, while Marika clung to the only son she was allowed to keep, and watched as the grace faded from her husband's eyes. Radagon was allowed to retain his faith in the goodwill of the Golden Order, but Marika slowly began to loathe its influence as the atrocities she bequeathed to others were turned upon her, and the evidence of her being used as naught more than the tool of an overcontrolling, uncaring god began to rear its ugly head.

And then Godfrey was gone, leaving the seat of Elden Lord open. And the Greater Will demanded that Marika must take a consort, and so she called her other half back to the Capital out of spite, for to wed herself was to deny any other from taking the seat that was taken from her husband. To rejoin with Radagon would turn back into the one fluid being that defied the careful bounds laid by the Greater Will, and would allow her to carry out her plans to usurp it in relative peace, provided she could snuff out the faith that her more ignorant half yet carried.

So really, is it so difficult to believe that someone who was once one might have a hard time fusing together after such a great schism? That one might shatter the Elden Ring, while the other tries frantically to piece it back together? They were two halves of one whole, but they lead different stories. It would make sense, then, for one part to need to be forcefully filed down to fit before they were rejoined.

#Queen Marika the Eternal #Radagon of the Golden Order #elden ring #elden ring theory #elden ring headcanon #i just have a lot of thoughts about them okay #marika realizing the extent of her tyranny being one of them #i personally think that it makes her even worse if she was all for the cruelties she enacted until she herself had to deal with them

[blessed1neha]

Is it true that Shri Krishna still comes to Nidhivan?

Nidhivan Temple, located in Vrindavan near Mathura, holds a significant place in Hindu scriptures and is believed to be the mystical abode where divine activities take place. According to local legends and folklore, the temple is regarded as the sacred space where Lord Krishna, also known as "Thakurji," engages in divine dances and spiritual activities with Radhaji and the gopis.

Inside the Nidhivan temple, visitors will find a serene and beautifully adorned statue of Lord Krishna and Radhaji. The temple also features a sacred kunj, which is believed to be the resting place for the divine couple after their enchanting raas-lila dance. The temple premises encompass various sites that provide evidence of the spiritual mysteries associated with Lord Krishna and Radha, making it a must-visit destination for devotees and those on a religious pilgrimage in India.

One such place within the temple complex is the Rang Mahal, known as the shringar-ghar of Radha Rani. It is believed to be the spot where Shri Krishna lovingly adorns Radharani with beautiful ornaments and attire. Inside the Rang Mahal, there is also a bed arranged for Radha-Krishna to rest after their celestial activities.

The name "Nidhivan" itself carries a profound meaning, with "nidhi" translating to "treasure" and "van" meaning "forest." As one enters the temple premises, initially, they are greeted by a seemingly ordinary jungle. However, as they proceed further, they come across a well-maintained pathway leading to a small house that remains locked but features a glass gate.

Nidhivan temple follows a strict schedule and closes its doors at 5 PM every day. However, the belief among devotees is that after nightfall, Thakurji makes his divine appearance, and the entire forest surrounding the temple transforms into his beloved gopis. Throughout the night, Lord Krishna dances and engages in celestial play with the gopis. By the break of dawn, everything returns to its original state, as if untouched by the divine revelry.

The spiritual significance and mystical aura surrounding Nidhivan Temple attract devotees and spiritual seekers from far and wide. It is believed that witnessing the divine dance and experiencing the spiritual energy of the temple fosters a deep sense of devotion and connection with Lord Krishna and Radha. The captivating stories and legends associated with Nidhivan Temple serve as a reminder of the eternal love between Radha and Krishna and inspire devotees to deepen their devotion and seek a closer relationship with the divine.

Visiting Nidhivan Temple offers an opportunity for devotees to immerse themselves in the rich mythology and spiritual ambiance that pervades the sacred site. The serene atmosphere, the enchanting presence of the divine deities, and the belief in the divine dances of Lord Krishna and the gopis create a profound impact on the hearts and minds of those who visit.

Nidhivan Temple in Vrindavan holds a significant place in Hindu scriptures and is revered as the divine abode where Lord Krishna engages in his celestial dances with Radha and the gopis. The temple's mystical ambiance and the stories associated with it evoke a deep sense of devotion and inspire seekers to connect with the divine love and teachings of Lord Krishna. A visit to Nidhivan Temple offers a spiritual journey that nourishes the soul and reinforces the timeless bond between the divine and the devotee.

#hare krsna #krsna #lord krishna #vedic astrology #krishan #hare krishna #krishna #harekrishna #hare #haribol #hari #astrology #vedic astro observations #vedic jyotish online #vedas #astrology numerology vedicastrology #lordkrishna #spiritualawakening #spiritual enlightment #spiritual awakening #spirituality #enlightenedones #enlightenedconsciousness #enlightenyourself #enlightenment