#they accept any behavior from you with pure delight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderambling · 1 year

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Ohh my goodness, can we get more of crimelord and puppy-like reader, with time jump when the reader is receptive and soaking willingly in crimelord' love and loving them back? 🥰🥰🥰 (A huge time jump i suppose haha) Maybe reader even licks/kisses the once-wounded hand? Wagging their tail? Cuddling crimelord to sleep? Nuzzling? Omg now I have hyperfixation

ahh i’m so glad you enjoyed!! thanks for this prompt, i had so much fun with it! i hope you like this one too <3 (it kinda got away from me a bit lol)

pairing: Crimelord!Yan(gn) x Puppy Hybrid!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.4k

if you'd like to read the original post, you can find it here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, referenced past abuse, implied ptsd

As soon as you start warming up to them in any given area, Monty pushes a little more. They always move at your pace, but they just want to get as close to you as possible- they’re gentle but damn persistent.

Earning your trust instantly became their top priority, all their ill business delegated to their inner circle, and they don’t regret it a bit. They revel in watching you relax into your new life, and they take every setback in stride, meeting you with nothing but gentleness and endless praise. It’s infinitely gratifying to see you accept comfort and affection, and they give it to you in abundance.

You can be sure that they'll be petting you whenever they have a free hand, nothing calms yet excites them like the slide of your fur through their fingers, and they can’t get over the domesticity of simply sitting down and running their hands over you like it’s the most natural thing in the world (it is, for them at least). If you start getting closer, cuddling, crawling into their lap, they won’t be functional for the next few hours at least- the proximity alone is enough to make them fear hyperventilation, but the thought that you’re seeking them out for comfort (or even just some kind of entertainment in this giant, empty house) makes them dig their nails into their skin to make sure they don't float outside of their body. Sometimes you feel their grip tighten the slightest bit around the back your neck, their arms pull you a little closer, but when you look up they only meet you with a barely stifled manic grin.

Monty would also love to feed you by hand, they’ll do it for every meal if you let them. Once you’re more comfortable, they’d get a little less careful, letting their fingers slip into your mouth from time to time. The feeling of your teeth and tongue against their skin, so gentle now from when they first felt it, leaves them weak-kneed and lightheaded (if you suck on them even a little, they might just faint).

If you were to express remorse over their scarred hand, it would melt their heart, but they would discourage any guilt you might feel. They actually delight in bearing your mark (if you hurt any of their staff while you were still adjusting, they're lucky if all they left their service with was a scar- they weren’t worthy of even the illusion of your claim). Still, they would never stop you from licking them, they'll always take your “kisses” however you’ll give them (your tongue against their skin feels like the caress of an angel, a pureness they can feel cleansing them within, each motion a sacrament).

The first time you wagged your tail when they entered a room, Monty had to check their camera feeds to be sure it even happened. They had walked downstairs in the morning and greeted you in the living room, where you were most mornings you woke early, when they heard the soft, telltale thud thud of a tail against the couch. Sure enough, when they rounded the corner, there you were- a hesitantly friendly grin on your face as the end of you tail tapped a steady rhythm on the cushion. They nearly choked on the emotions that clenched their chest in that moment, and they felt newly rejuvenated in their quest to earn your love trust. Every time you show that same excitement at their presence from then on, it's all they can do not to melt into a puddle at your feet- and it only gets harder as you grow more comfortable.

They would love to give you a collar. They’d give you options, endless varieties of materials and colors and styles for you to try on- you’d probably have to make a whole day of it. They still feel their pulse pick up whenever they look at the proof of your bond, which you so proudly display (to their staff and the few shopkeeps in their pocket that have been sworn to secrecy to provide essential services, and to let you leave the estate on occasion). They often like to just hook their fingers through it and let their knuckles rest against your neck, a sort of subtle claim that settles some primal part of them, if only slightly.

Monty is a pretty big person, and remarkably strong, so you can bet they’ll be picking you up and carrying you around whenever you’ll let them (once they can stop their arms from going weak and shaky every time they feel your body against their chest). They take immense pleasure in scooping you up from wherever you may be- lounging on the sofa, standing in their garden, sleeping in their bay windows- and just carrying you about with them, or sitting you on their lap and stroking you until you settle into a doze (you’ve spent many evenings splayed across their legs or cuddled tot heir chest while they reviewed reports and receipts). They feel their heart soar every time your weight settles into their arms, so completely at their mercy, so hardened to everyone else yet allowing them your complete vulnerability; they could cry. (They have.)

This would probably take the longest, but Monty would never give up hope of getting you to share a bed with them. They might start by letting you sleep in their bed while they sleep on and watch you sleep from a surprisingly luxurious pullout. The sound of your deep, even breaths is almost enough to calm their racing heart- or maybe it’s actually making it go faster. They can't focus on anything else enough to tell, just knowing that you trust them enough to sleep in their room sends them into a flustered, shivering tizzy. They spend most of those nights obsessively memorizing the outline of your silhouette, struggling to convince themself that it wasn’t a dream (maybe they’ve snuck a few pets in when they just couldn’t hold back any longer, the feeling of your fur against their fingers always making their chest clench so wonderfully they've definitely taken closeup photos of your captivatingly peaceful face in the moonlight).

Once you two make it into the same bed for a night, they can hardly contain themself. You actually get a little worried, watching your sweet master shake and shudder in place beside you, their body sweaty and hot to the touch oh sweet lord you’re touching them but when you ask if they’re okay, they just nod fervently (their mouth is too dry to speak, and they’re fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to formulate words anyhow). They don’t really sleep that night either, and it would probably take them a couple nights to make any more moves forward unless you initiate (and that still would be so delightfully overwhelming).

They would try to hold you, ideally you two would cuddle up as close as you could be without being under each other’s skin (though they might actually prefer that). They would be happy with being the big or little spoon, too. Being curled around you makes them feel like they’re protecting you, like you want them to protect you, and they love feeling every line and curve of your body under theirs. But they would also delight in being wrapped in your arms, feeling your comforting weight around them, your breath against their back, letting themself be vulnerable to you.

It would probably take a couple nights before they get any actual rest in that bed. They’ll relish every second.

Waking up to you feels like a dream, and they always have breakfast delivered to the room so they can watch you lounge about, all rumpled and sleepy as you lazily nibble at the bites they hold to your mouth (so different from the frenzied way you used to gorge yourself, like you thought it might be taken from you and you weren’t sure when you’d get more. Monty intends to hunt down every last person that made you feel that way, and they’ve already made good progress).

They can, and do, spend hours upon hours just watching you- basking in a sunbeam on their sofa, napping in bed, exploring their vast estate- they’re basically always with you even when you don’t know it. The only time you two are apart is when they have to take care of business in person, which is pretty rare but still crushes their soul each time it happens.

But it’s necessary, in their mind, to keep you removed from all the sickness and violence in the world; they’re well-versed in dealing with violence, as they know you are too, and the thought of exposing you to anything of the sort is nauseating. They have a need to protect you from that darkness, to ensure that you never feel even a fraction of the way you’ve felt your whole life. And they do just that.

And, as long as you’ll let them (even if you won’t), they always will.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #gn yandere #gn reader #criminal yandere #hybrid reader #puppy reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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homicidal-slvt · 1 year

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Hi, can i make a smut request where Rudy being seductively enthralled by a femme fatale reader, please?

I’m not sure if you like the specifics, but if you do, here we go;

1. They both are in a mission to capture Hassan & find the missing missiles.

2. Rudy was captivated and turned on seeing Reader doing training and fighting/slaughtering the enemies

3. He was jealous seeing reader playfully flirt with others (TF141 & Alejandro) and a bit shy to approach reader but decided to ask her out anyway (she says yes).

P/s: please feel free to ignore if you have your own ideas/make any adjustments ☺️ tysm!! 🫶🏻❤️‍🔥

"She's Trouble"

Rodolfo Parra x F!Reader

Femme Fatale|Y/N

Warnings: Very Brief Drug Mention, Fluff.

Oh, how could he ever resist someone like you? He found himself drawn in the moment you two met. It was so obvious too, with the way his gaze lingered on you every chance he got.

The way his jaw would clench whenever you playfully flirted with Alejandro.... He tried to convince himself he shouldn't be jealous. You weren't his. You're out of his league.

"Y'know..."

Rudy watched as you leaned in closer to a man, he watched the way you so effortlessly enchanted everyone you met, the way you got the guys guard down and slipped drugs into his glass of whiskey and he was none the wiser. He'd be out like a light soon.

He was impressed, horny and jealous. The only one of those feelings he found acceptable was being impressed by you, the other two he certainly tried to fight away.

It seems no matter how hard he tries, you manage to reel him back in.

"Rudy!"

You chimed in excitedly and your hand lightly brushed against his arm, a wide smile on your features which makes his heart pound faster.

"Yes?"

He internally cursed himself for how meek he sounded, he usually was far more calm and collected than this. You really did a number on him.

"I just missed you. You haven't been around much lately. Are you alright?"

He swallowed the bubbling guilt down like a bitter pill, he didn't mean to make you worry. He simply has been dealing with his feelings, trying to figure out how to tell you... But every single time he loses his confidence.

"I'm fine. Just a bit busy lately."

You furrowed your brows... You didn't believe him. You could tell he was crushing on you but you didn't realize just how bad. You decided not to push the issue though and just nodded.

"She's trouble."

Alejandro stated the moment he first saw you, the way you walked with such confidence... The sass dripping from you like molten lava, yet at the same time you were kind and dedicated and knew how to pour on the sugar to fool a man with ease.

However, unlike with other men you didn't act as flirty with Rodolfo. He chalked it up to you not being interested but in reality it was because you genuinely care about him.

His hands were so sweaty and he kept awkwardly wiping his palms on his pants.

"How am I supposed to confess- like this?"

He mumbled as he was considering chickening out for the umpteenth time... However when he spotted you with another man all over you- that green monster inside reared its ugly head. He had to do something about these feelings, he couldn't just keep shoveling dirt on top of them and hoping they'd fade.

Not saying a damn word he walked over, a little hint of murder written in his eyes as he carefully grasped your wrist.

"Rudy- hey wait- where are we going?"

His change in behavior confused you to say the least, him tugging you away from the man. He made eye contact with you, taking a deep breath he finally let it out.

"I like you... A lot. Will you please go out with me?"

Your confused expression turned into that of pure delight, taking both his hands in yours while maintaining the eye contact.

"I thought you'd never ask~"

This made him chuckle slightly, averting his eyes with a goofy little smile.

"Alejandro was right... You're trouble."

{I changed some things. I hope it turned out alright. Thank you for the request, anon!}

{I just realized it was a smut req I'm so sorry}

{More Content}

#cod mw2 x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo cod #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo 'rudy' parra #rudy parra #cod rudy #rodolfo x reader #vee's cod works #rodolfo parra fluff #rodolfo fluff

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appleofthemoon · 1 year

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⸻ * ❪ ❀ ... ROSE

premise. oh dear, it looks like death has parted you and your lover. don’t worry, beomgyu is here to make you whole again.

pairing. non-idol! choi beomgyu x widow(er)! reader.

pantone. yandere.

word count. six hundred seventy three.

warning. delusional yandere, a funeral takes place, allusion to death by suffocation.

note for the reader. the depiction of the muse does not reflect upon their behavior in the real world. the muse’s actions are also not condoned by me, this is all purely a work of fiction.

“YOU LOVE HIM.”

thump.

“you love him not.”

scratch.

“you love him.”

thump.

“you love him not.”

scratch.

and he does this a few more times—cradling the rose petal before letting it fall upon the disturbed earth. to beomgyu's delight, he peels off the last one and hums, “you love him not.”

but you don't seem to share his happiness. in fact, so many tears are falling down, the handkerchief he gave you is useless. so he tucks the stem in his breast pocket, kneels in front of you, and cups your face in his hands.

“it's okay, sweetheart. funerals really are a sad occasion.” he assures you while the pads of his thumbs gently wipe your cheeks clean.

you say nothing, not when the sadness that's painted on your face says everything. it pains beomgyu to see it, but he doesn't stop you. give some time with him, and that pain will ebb quicker than you think.

eventually, your sobs are nothing more than sniffles. feeling like you've cried enough for the buried, you finally take beomgyu's hand and rise from your chair. unfortunately, due to the uneven ground, you lose your footing and accidentally stumble into his arms.

within this close proximity, you feel his warm breath fan over your skin as he whispers, “already falling for me, sweetheart? you should be more careful, or else people will start to talk.”

you close your eyes and beg, “please, let's just go..”

“whatever you wish, my flower~”

he steps back and guides you to the car. since your wrist is still healing from an.. accident, beomgyu decides to rest his hand upon the small of your back. but if someone looked closer, they'd notice him pinching your top with his index and middle finger.

you get into the passenger seat and fold your hands upon your lap once you do so. beomgyu prefers you to sit that way, claiming it accentuates your ‘delicateness’. you don't know what that means; what you do know is that it's better to not question him.

“wait here, sweetheart. i'll just go get the chair, and then i'll take you home, okay?”

“alright, just don't take too long.” your response makes him so happy, he just has to give you a kiss on the cheek before shutting the door.

of course he makes sure to lock the car. what if someone is watching, waiting for an opening so they can take you from him? he might as well dig a grave for himself too.

there's a pep in his step as he walks back to the site. he hums while folding the chair, but pauses because the noise your ex-lover is making is threatening to overpower it. that just won't do, not when he's trying to make a melody for you. so he stands over the grave and looks upon it with a frown.

“stop being such a baby, i got you the comfiest bed possible.” he hears a faint scream, eliciting him to roll his eyes and scoff, “how ungrateful, maybe i shouldn't have wasted my time on making a resting place.”

a series of banging and scratching follows suit, as well as cries of your name. and he does it a few more times—trying to break the coffin open before calling for your help. to your ex's fright, nothing is working; you're not coming.

“denial won't do you any good. just accept the fact that i'm here now to do everything you didn't, including caring for them and ensuring their happiness. once you do that, you'll be able to rest peacefully.”

beomgyu can't help but smile as the sounds gradually decreases until.. silence. hm, seems like the male finally listened to him. he takes out the rose's stem and a lighter. after carefully twirling the former between his fingers, he snaps it in two.

“they love me.”

he puts it back in his pocket, right above his heart.

“they love me not.”

then he burns the other half, its remains carelessly scattered upon the dirt.

#yandere txt #yandere beomgyu #yandere kpop #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader

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thestars-aremycanvas · 2 months

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Luciferian Principles

Luciferianism is not a defined religion, but rather a belief system that admires and venerates the characteristics and personality traits exhibited by Lucifer as represented in the literature and the various books of the Hebrew Bible. Although Luciferianism is often confused with Satanism due the fact that Satan is defined as a fallen Lucifer, in reality, Luciferians do not worship Satan in any way and instead model themselves after the original Lucifer, a character of enlightenment, independence, and progressiveness.

The following list enumerates some of the principles by which Luciferians strive to live. Some items on this list were initially put forward by the Order of the Luciferian Sword and are adapted here with permission.

Read more about Luciferianism vs Satanism.

An Illuminated Being Who Chooses Rather Than Idolizes

Luciferianism is about the seeking of knowledge from both within and without. While many of practitioners do recognize Lucifer as an actual being, they envision him quite differently than Christians do, and they are in no way dependent on him in the same way that followers of other religions regard their key figures.

Luciferians model themselves after Lucifer purely by choice, not out of doctrine or expectation.

Free to Act, but Accepting of Consequences

Luciferians believe that taboos and social expectations should not hamper one from achieving his or her goals.

Society and your fellow humans may take issues with your choices, and you are expected to accept the consequences with stoicism if you make poor decisions.

Pursuit of Wealth and Living in Prosperity

For Luciferians, wealth is not something to be ashamed of. You are encouraged to strive for success and enjoy the fruits of your labors. You are allowed and even encouraged to take pride in your accomplishments and to highlight them.

Accept and Glorify Primordial Carnal Nature

Humans are both rational and physical, according to Luciferianism. One should not be ignored or denigrated in order to prioritize the other, and neither impulse should be denied as corrupt or sinful. Luciferians accept and delight in the so-called pleasures of the flesh.

Cruelty Has Its Place, When It is Warranted

The Luciferian may be cruel and wrathful to those who have proven themselves worthy of being treated in such a way. Luciferianism holds that the behavior of others dictates how you should treat them. There is no burden to treat others better than they deserve, though kindness is not discouraged, either.

Conversion Is Not a Goal

The Luciferian considers himself as a member of an elite group of self-determined people, and he has no interest in converting others. Luciferians see no value in large numbers of like-minded believers who may have less than full dedication. The Luciferian path is one that people seek out through self-determination, not one that seeks followers.

Acceptance for Abrahamic Faiths

The Luciferian respects people of Abrahamic faiths and accepts their beliefs even while disagreeing with them. While Luciferians have nothing against Christians, Jews, Muslims on a personal level, they disagree with what they see as subservience to a demanding and arbitrary god as practiced by those faith systems.

Support and Protection of the Natural World

Luciferians share some beliefs of New Age philosophies in their celebration and protection of the earth (Terra) and the natural world. They strongly disagree with some religious systems that see man's role as one which is entitled to freely use and abuse natural resources.

Arts and Sciences Are Equally Cherished

Luciferianism adheres to a Rennaissance attitude when it comes to arts and sciences. Both creative expression and scientific exploration and understanding are regarded as equally important to mankind as a whole and to our individual personal development.

Focus on the Present Day

Luciferians do not believe in the Abrahamic religions' doctrine of an afterlife that is paid for by suffering in the present life. Instead, it is believed that one should live for the present day and make the most of what is here and now. Happiness today is proof that good choices have been made, and there is no expectation that suffering today is necessary for happiness tomorrow.

Enlightenment is the Ultimate Goal

All knowledge is good. Ignorance, however, leads to all sorts of problems: hatred, lack of success, the inability to advance, etc. Unlike other belief systems in which faith plays a primary role, Luciferians celebrate knowledge of all types as the key to enlightenment and happiness in this life.

Free Will and Personal Responsibility Are Primary

Each person is responsible for their own fate, which is determined by his or her own talents and efforts. Finding ways around life's roadblocks is an expected part of life for Luciferians, and overcoming them is cause for pride and happiness.

They are also expected to accept any unhappiness that arrives due to the bad choices they make.

Skepticism Is Encouraged

Knowledge is regarded as fluid and subject to revision and change. Hence the Luciferian is encouraged to keep an open mind and be willing to revise his or her ideas of what constitutes truth and understanding.

All ideas should be tested for practicality before being adopted as truth, and circumstances may require former "truths" to be abandoned.

From learn religions here.

#luciferianism #luciferian #witchblr

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Saera and her twin sister being in love. Sister reader is more favored and less “like a whore” jaehaerys you misogynistic cu

When in reality YN is just asexual and covers up for Saera. Reader was devastated to lose her sister to the citadel till around a year ish later. When Saera snuck into kings landing and convinced her to run away with her.

Now Reader and Saera are in love in Essos living their best life. Reader does objectify Saera as a purely sexual being and Saera found true love in her.

If you will excuse me this got me all emotional

As if any other twins, Saera and you were attached to the hip. Doing everything together. Walking in the gardens, going for carriage rides, spending the afternoon having tea, watching the tourneys. At first, such bond was amusing and delightful to see.

But when your sister proved to be defiant, Jaehaerys and Alyssane tried to distract you from her with other duties and the company of the ladies in the court. Still their efforts were made feeble. As no one could ever separate the two of you.

Growing up, your sister was well aware of your sexuality. Even before you discovered it yourself. Saera accepted it as she accepted every part of you.

When your sister was brought to the king and queen with the ‘accusations’. She was sent to the citadel, and you were devastated when it happened. Your mother tried her best comforting you, but to no avail and your father disliked how you insisted on seeing her, how eager you were to defend her. Jaehaerys feared your sister would pass off her behavior to you, that she’ll ‘taint’ you and forbade you to ever speak of her again.

But when Saera snuck into king’s landing, there wasn’t much convincing for you to run away with her. She was your twin and greatest love, your place was on her side. And it ended with you living a long and fulfilling life with your sister. Where she spoiled you rotten and hardly ever left your side. You also helped in raising her children, and they considered you more as their mother than their aunt.

And while it pained you to never respond to your mother’s letters. You promised to never leave Saera’s side and you intended on keeping to your promise.

#yandere concept #saera targaryen x reader #asoiaf x reader #yandere asoiaf

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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meatmechapilot · 9 months

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AOT Ficlets and Drabbles: Milkshakes

Milkshakes

Summary: Eren's Milkshakes brings all the alphas to the yard, but only one gets a taste.

"Here's the Strawberry Milkshake, Professor Ackerman!" The omega said brightly, handing the dark-haired alpha said milkshake. The alpha, Levi, accepted the frozen treat with a smile, and their hands brushed against each other. Levi held on a tad bit too long for it to be innocent, but frustratingly enough the omega remained oblivious, already greeting the next customer.

There is a long line behind Levi, and all of them alphas. Levi gritted his teeth, the omega server, Eren Jaeger, is way too pure to realize what was going on. Ever since the ice cream shop opened, and news about the lovely omega who works there spread around, what feels like every unattached alpha in town has visited the shop, hoping to flirt with, or even court the omega.

Levi was one of the first customers who discovered the shop when it first opened. The majority of the customers then were families and young children. Levi would have preferred it remain that way if not for the snot nosed college aged alphas who stumbled upon the shop and decided to share. Of course, the fact that Eren is also college aged and therefore too young for him never crossed his mind.

Eren's attention is now fully on the next group of alphas, four college students who appear to know Eren from school. They are chatting happily while Eren takes the group's orders. Two particular alphas out of the group have already found their place on Levi's shit list. A horse-looking guy named Jean, and a dumb-jock looking dude named Reiner. They are the boldest in their flirtation with Eren, and annoyingly enough, Eren seems to like them and encourage their behavior.

Levi has retreated to his car and is stewing in the awful summer heat. But he refuses to leave until Eren is finished with his shift, Levi can't have those college knot heads getting any ideas about what's his. Thankfully, besides those two alphas, nobody else tried to act too overly familiar with Eren, but even so, Levi thought they were looking too much. Levi supposed that he's thankful that it's currently summer vacation time and there wasn't as many alphas mobbing the ice cream shop as there could be.

As for Jean and Reiner, Levi has some ideas about what to do with them. He's contemplating whether to fail them or not. Coincidentally enough, they were both in his class for the summer term, along with Eren. It was quite a pleasant surprise when on the first day of class, the lovely omega waltzed into his classroom and sat in the front row, giving him a big smile. A sharp rapping on his window interrupted Levi's thoughts. Levi turned and saw that it was Eren.

"Finally, I've been sweating in here for hours!" Levi grumbled while opening the passenger door for Eren.

"When you drop me off for work, you didn't have to stay." Eren said as he climbed in the car.

"And let all those knotheads drool all over you unsupervised?" Levi started the car and prepared to drive, "I don't think so."

"I can handle them," Eren said, but he's secretly pleased that his alpha is so possessive of him, makes his omega preen with pride. Eren could feel that Levi has been worked up, having to sweat it out in his car while countless alphas tried to chat up the omega up while he worked. He can feel his day ending with a bang.

Levi drove like a madman, way past the speed limit, and it was a miracle that he made it back to his house without getting a speeding ticket. No sooner did Eren made it into the door did Levi drag him into the bedroom, while leaving a trail of clothing on the way there. Levi was delighted to discover that Eren was wearing the sexy lingerie he bought him for his birthday, a white lacy number that really showcased Eren's amazing beach body.

Levi enjoyed the view for a second before quickly removing the underwear, while pushing Eren onto his back. Eren was already slicking like crazy and spread his legs for his alpha in anticipation. Levi, instead opted to covered Eren's body with kisses, earning an impatiently while from the omega. Levi's mouth trailed down Eren's chest to his stomach, until he finally found his prize: Eren's perfectly formed, pink pussy.

"Please~" Eren whines, spreading his legs wider to give his alpha more access. Levi wasted no time and fell upon the omega's cunt like a starving man. There, he proceeded to tease Eren with fingers and tongue, finally tasting his reward. Eren finally came, moaning loudly, the lewd sound shot directly to Levi's already hard cock. Levi positioned himself on top of Eren and lined up his cock to the omega's cunt. The alpha let the omega come down from his high ever so slightly before driving his cock inside, bottoming out in a smooth motion, groaning at the feel of the omega's tight heat.

Eren gasped, the pleasure building up again. Whenever they have sex, he can always count on Levi to make him come multiple times. Levi's cock feels huge inside him, every thrust hitting at just the right spot inside of him. The pleasure building up for the second time and soon Eren climaxed for the second time. Levi's increasingly uncoordinated movements indicating that he was close. The alpha just about drove home a final time before his knot locked them together. Eren's cunt tightened around Levi's cock, and the alpha came, filling the omega right up.

Eren's making satisfied little noises, already feeling the post coital drowsiness pulling him under. Levi made a mental note to send his cousin Mikasa a fruit basket for introducing him to her friend.

#aot ficlets and drabbles

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dfroza · 1 year

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“Finally, all of you, be like-minded and show sympathy, love, compassion, and humility to and for each other— not paying back evil with evil or insult with insult, but repaying the bad with a blessing.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the letter of 1st Peter:

In the same way, wives, you should patiently accept the authority of your husbands. This is so that even if they don’t obey God’s word, as they observe your pure respectful behavior, they may be persuaded without a word by the way you live. Don’t focus on decorating your exterior by doing your hair or putting on fancy jewelry or wearing fashionable clothes; let your adornment be what’s inside—the real you, the lasting beauty of a gracious and quiet spirit, in which God delights. This is how, long ago, holy women who put their hope in God made themselves beautiful: by respecting the authority of their husbands. Consider how Sarah, our mother, obeyed her husband, Abraham, and called him “lord,” and you will be her daughters as long as you boldly do what is right without fear and without anxiety.

In the same way, husbands, as you live with your wives, understand the situations women face as the weaker vessel. Each of you should respect your wife and value her as an equal heir in the gracious gift of life. Do this so that nothing will get in the way of your prayers.

Finally, all of you, be like-minded and show sympathy, love, compassion, and humility to and for each other— not paying back evil with evil or insult with insult, but repaying the bad with a blessing. It was this you were called to do, so that you might inherit a blessing. It is written in the psalms,

If you love life

and want to live a good, long time,

Then be careful what you say.

Don’t tell lies or spread gossip or talk about improper things.

Walk away from the evil things in the world—just leave them behind, and do what is right,

and always seek peace and pursue it.

For the Lord watches over the righteous,

and His ears are attuned to their prayers.

But His face is set against His enemies;

He will punish evildoers.

Why would anyone harm you if you eagerly do good? Even if you should suffer for doing what is right, you will receive a blessing. Don’t let them frighten you. Don’t be intimidated, but exalt Him as Lord in your heart. Always be ready to offer a defense, humbly and respectfully, when someone asks why you live in hope. Keep your conscience clear so that those who ridicule your good conduct in the Anointed and say bad things about you will be put to shame.

For if it is the will of God that you suffer, then it is better to suffer for doing what is right than for doing what is wrong. The Anointed One suffered for sins once for all time—the righteous suffering for the unrighteous—so that He might bring us to God. Though He died in the flesh, He was made alive again through the Spirit. And in the Spirit, He went and preached to those spirits held captive. It was these who long ago lived in disobedience while God waited patiently as Noah was building the ark. At that time, only a tiny band—eight people—was spared from the flood.

The water through which the ark safely passed symbolizes now the ceremonial washing through baptism that initiates you into salvation. You are saved not because it cleanses your body of filth but because of your appeal to God from a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus the Anointed, our Liberating King. Now He has entered heaven and sits at the right hand of God as heavenly messengers and authorities and powers submit to His supremacy.

The Letter of 1st Peter, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Peter urges us always to be ready to give a reason for the hope that lives within us. But it is important that it be done not with arrogance and contempt, but with gentleness and love—the same virtues that should guide our responses to any hostile challenge. This is one way we can glorify Jesus as King over all our lives—by exalting Him with both our emotions and our intellect.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 30th chapter of the book of 2nd Chronicles that contains a letter sent by King Hezekiah:

Since the people could not gather in Jerusalem immediately and since not enough priests were sanctified in time to celebrate the Passover holiday during the first month of his reign, Hezekiah, the leaders, and the people of Jerusalem decided to celebrate during the second month.

So he decided to send word to everyone—from Beersheba in the far south to Dan in the far north—to come to the Eternal’s temple in Jerusalem and celebrate the Passover honoring the Eternal One, True God of Israel. Until Hezekiah, Judah had not celebrated as frequently as they should have.

So messengers carried letters written by the king and his leaders throughout the kingdoms.

Hezekiah’s Letter: People of Israel, return to the ways of the Eternal One, True God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, and He will return to those of you who escaped the conquering kings of Assyria to follow Him. Don’t be like your relatives who ignored the Eternal One, the True God of their fathers; they were destroyed and became a horrific spectacle to other nations. Do not be stubborn as they were. Obey Him, come to His sanctuary, and serve the Eternal One, your True God, so that He will not be angry with you. If you return to His ways, then your families who were exiled by the Assyrians will receive compassion and will return to their homes because the Eternal One, your True God, is gracious and compassionate and will return to you if you return to Him.

When the messengers took this message throughout the Northern Kingdom, most of the Northerners ridiculed and ignored the message. But some people from the Northern tribes of Asher, Manasseh, and Zebulun obeyed Hezekiah and the leaders and humbly traveled to Jerusalem just as all of the Southern Kingdom were given one mind and obeyed under the guidance of the True God via the command of the king and his officials.

Vast numbers of people responded to the king’s message and traveled to Jerusalem to celebrate the Festival of Unleavened Bread in the second month. As part of the festivities, the people destroyed the Canaanite altars in Jerusalem and threw the incense altars into the Kidron Valley.

They slaughtered the Passover lambs on the fourteenth of the second month.

The priests and Levites humbled themselves, sanctified themselves, and brought burnt offerings to the Eternal’s temple. There they attended to their assigned duties, as Moses the follower of the True God had described, sprinkling the blood of the animals which the Levites sacrificed. The Levites slaughtered the Passover lambs that were offered by the unclean people in the assembly while those who had sanctified themselves slaughtered their own lambs to the Eternal. Many of the people from the tribes of Ephraim, Manasseh, Issachar, and Zebulun, had not cleansed themselves as prescribed, but they were able to eat the Passover feast because Hezekiah prayed on their behalf.

Hezekiah: Eternal One, because You are good, cover their sins for everyone here who has neglected to ritually cleanse himself in order to properly enter the temple of the True God, the Eternal God of our ancestors. Everyone here wants to follow You.

The Eternal One heard Hezekiah’s prayer and healed them from the threat of disease for not approaching God as instructed. So the Israelites who had traveled to Jerusalem joyously celebrated the Festival of Unleavened Bread for seven days while the Levites and the priests played their instruments praising the Eternal daily. Hezekiah commended the Levites who had remained faithful and prudent toward the Eternal, and everyone celebrated for seven days: feasting, sacrificing peace offerings, and offering praise to the Eternal One, True God of their ancestors.

Everyone decided to celebrate for another seven days, and they celebrated with joy. By the time the festival ended, Hezekiah, king of the Southern Kingdom, had donated 1,000 bulls and 7,000 sheep, and the leaders had donated 1,000 bulls and 10,000 sheep for the people to sacrifice. Also many priests had sanctified themselves. Everyone in Judah rejoiced: priests, Levites, Northerners who had traveled for the festival, and Northerners who had moved to Judah permanently. Nothing like this celebration had happened in Jerusalem since the reign of Solomon, son of David, so the people were joyous. Finally the Levitical priests concluded the festival by blessing the people. And He heard their prayer from His sacred dwelling in heaven.

The Book of 2nd Chronicles, Chapter 30 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, march 17 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about our ancient Jewish roots of faith:

The theme of the Book of Exodus essentially turns on two great events, namely, the deliverance of the Israelites from bondage in Egypt (i.e., yetzi’at Mitzraim: יְצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם) and the subsequent revelation given at Sinai (i.e., mattan Torah: מַתַן תּוֹרָה). Both of these events, however, are grounded in the deeper theme of God’s faithful love (חֶסֶד נֶאֳמָן) combined with the need for blood atonement (i.e., kapparat ha’dam: כָּפָרָת הַדָּם). With regard to the former, the blood of lamb (as foreshadowed in Eden) was required to cause death to “pass over” the houses of the Israelites; with regard to the latter, the sacrificial system represented by the Mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”) was required to draw near to God.

Jewish tradition tends to regard the giving of the law at Sinai to be the goal of the entire redemptive process, a sort of “return from Exile” to the full stature of God’s chosen people. Some of the sages have taken this a step further by saying that God created the very universe so that Israel would accept the law. Such traditions, it should be understood, derive more from rabbinical thinking devised after the destruction of the Second Temple than from the narrative presented in the written Torah itself, since it is clear that the climax of the revelation at Sinai was to impart the pattern of the Mishkan (תבנית המשכן) to Moses. In other words, the goal of revelation was not primarily to impart a set of moral or social laws, but rather to accommodate the Divine Presence in the midst of the people. This is not to suggest that the various laws and decrees given to Israel were unimportant, of course, since they reflect the holy character and moral will of God. Nonetheless, it is without question that the Torah was revealed concurrently with the revelation of the Sanctuary itself, and the two cannot be separated apart from “special pleading” and the suppression of the revelation given in the Torah itself... The meticulous account of the Mishkan is given twice in the Torah to emphasize its importance to God. This further explains why Leviticus is the central book of the Torah of Moses. (For more on this, see “The Eight Aliyot of Moses” on the Hebrew for Christians website.)

As we consider these things, however, it is important to realize that underlying the events surrounding deliverance and revelation is something even more fundamental, namely, the great theme of faith (אֱמוּנָה). This theme is our response to God’s redemptive love. God’s love is the question, and our response - our teshuvah - is the answer. The great command is always to "choose life!" We must chose to turn away from the darkness to behold the Light... Jewish tradition states there were many Jews who perished in Egypt during the Plague of Darkness because they refused to believe in God’s love. Likewise, the revelation at Sinai failed to transform the hearts of many Jews because they despaired of finding hope.

As glorious as the redemption and revelation was, then, there was something even more foundational that gave “inward life” to God’s gracious intervention. You must first believe that God loves you and regards you as worthy of His love; you must “accept that you are accepted.” It is your faith that brings you near... This is the “Cinderella Story” of Exodus.

These themes of the Book of Exodus - and really of the Bible itself - will mean little to you unless you willingly identify with the calling of the Jewish people, and that implies that you reckon yourself as worth saving... You must see yourself as the recipient of divine affection and love. After all, without this as a first step, how will you make the rest of the journey? This is similar to the First Commandment revealed at Sinai: “I AM the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt...” Notice that the statement, "I AM the LORD your God" (אנכי יהוה אלהיך) was uttered in the second person singular, rather than in the plural. In other words, you (personally) must be willing to accept the love of the LORD into your heart, since the rest of the Torah is merely commentary to this step of faith. Therefore the Book of Exodus is called Shemot (שְׁמוֹת), "names," because it sees every person as worthy of God’s redeeming love and revelation. “For God so loved the world...” (John 3:16).

The midrash says that only one out of five of the children of Israel made it out of Egypt; some say one out of fifty, and some say one out of five hundred (see Mechilta). As Yeshua said: "Many are called, but few are chosen" (Matt. 22:14). Those who directly experienced God’s deliverance in Egypt first of all believed they were redeemable people. Before anything else they made a decision to receive hope within their hearts. The blood of the original Passover lamb was smeared as a sign of their faith that God would accept them. We also must begin here. This is the start of the journey. We step out by faith, leaving behind the familiar - including the dark familiarity of our sin and shame - and venture out into the unknown. We venture out in hope because we trust the promises of God (הַבְטָחוֹת יהוה).

The journey of faith (מַסָע הַאֱמוּנָה) is marked with testing (בְּדִיקַת אֱמוּנָה). Being called out of the world leads you into the desert places. Faith is not something static, like a church creed or theology handbook. There are stony places, dangers, and difficulties that attend the way. We move out from “walled cities” into tents, traveling as “strangers and sojourners” on our way to a promised heavenly city. Therefore the Scriptures state that "by faith Abraham went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God" (Heb. 11:9-10). The way back home is the same for all who "cross over" from this world to the next. It is the way of hope, trust, and surrender.

The story of divine deliverance is not the story of “other people”; it is not a story told in the “third person.” You must choose to belong. Again, your faith draws you near. That is why the sages teach: b'chol dor vador - in each and every generation an individual should look upon him or herself as if he or she (personally) had left Egypt. It's not enough to recall, in some abstract sense, the deliverance of the Jewish people in ancient Egypt, but each Jew is responsible to personally view Passover as a time to commemorate their own personal deliverance from the bondage of Pharaoh. The same must be said regarding Shavuot. Each person should consider himself as having personally received revelation at Sinai. The altar of the Mishkan was set up for you to draw near to God - you, not some people who lived long ago... This is why non-Jews who turn to the God of Israel by putting their trust in the Messiah are regarded equal members in the covenants and promises given to ethnic Israel. It is a brit milah (בְּרִית מִילָה) - literally, a "covenant of the word" - that makes us partakers of the covenantal blessings given to Abraham (Eph. 2:12-19; Gal. 3:7; Col. 2:11, etc.).

The narratives of the Book of Exodus, like other narratives of the Torah, often function as parables of faith (i.e., mishlei emunah: מִשְׁלֵי אֱמוּנָה). "The deeds of the fathers are signs for the children." Signs of what? Of the coming Messiah, as Yeshua Himself attested and the apostles likewise affirmed (John 5:46; Luke 24:27;44; Matt. 13:52; 2 Tim. 3:14-17). The Mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”) itself was a metaphor of God’s redemption (גְּאוּלַת יהוה) embodied in Yeshua. The Mercy Seat (kapporet) represented the Throne of God (Heb. 4:16; 2 Ki. 19:15) where propitiation for our sins was made (Rom. 3:25). Indeed, the word Mishkan (מִשְׁכָּן) is related to the word mashkon (מַשׁכּוֹן), a pledge or “promise on loan.” The Tabernacle functioned as a “loan” to Israel until the Messiah came to establish the true Temple (הַאֲמִיתִי הַמִּקְדַשׁ) by means of His atoning sacrifice (Gal. 3:19). The law (ספר הברית) is called a "schoolmaster" meant to lead to the Messiah and His Kingdom rule (Gal. 3:23-26). The glory of the Torah of Moses was destined to fade away (2 Cor. 3:3-11), just as its ritual center (i.e., the Tabernacle/Temple) was a shadow (צֵל הַמִצִיאוֹת) to be replaced by the greater priesthood of the Messiah (כְּהוּנָת הַמָּשִׁיחַ; see Heb. 10:1; 13:10). "Now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit (הַדֶּרֶך הַחֲדָשָׁה שֶׁל הָרוּחַ) and not in the old way of the written code (Rom. 7:6). Yeshua is the Goal of salvation (מְטָרָת הַיְשׁוּעָה) and the “Goel” (i.e., גּאֵל, Redeemer) from the curse of the law... "For the law made nothing perfect, but on the other hand, a better hope is introduced, and that is how we draw near to God" (Heb. 7:19). When the veil is taken away, Yeshua appears on every page of Scripture... (For more on this, see “Why then the Law?,” and “Paul’s Midrash of the Veil” on the H4C site.)

Outside the Mishkan, beyond the outer court, are the raw, “natural” experiences of life. This is the realm of the carnal flesh and the “dust to dust, ashes to ashes” despair of olam ha’mavet (עוֹלָם הַמָּוֶת). Genuine spiritual life (חיים רוחניים) is found when you come in through the gate (בְּדֶּרֶך הַשָׁעָר). You must understand that the gate is there for you to pass through. The cross of Yeshua is the altar where He died for you, personally, for your atonement with the Father (מִזְבֵּחַ הַכָּפָּרָה). His blood was presented between the outstretched wings of the cherubim so that you could come before God “panim el panim,” that is, personally, “as a man speaks to his friend” (Heb. 4:16). Your faith bridges the gap between the Holy of Holies of the Cross (הַקֹדֶשׁ הַקֳּדָשִׁים שֶׁל הַצְּלָב) and the sanctuary of your heart...

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 43:1b reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa43-1b-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page download:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa43-1b-lesson.pdf

Original article on H4C:

https://www.hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Pekudei/Belonging/belonging.html

3.16.23 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

March 17, 2023

Psalm 104's Creation Song

“Bless the LORD, O my soul. O LORD my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty.” (Psalm 104:1)

This psalm captures a historical event recorded in the first scroll of Moses’ inspired text—God’s creation of all things. Many scholars, even those casting serious doubts on the historicity of Genesis, concede to the chronological order of this song. Examine carefully the prose, capturing the wonder, exuberance, and praises of God’s creative finger—and ponder how these inspired words relate to life then and now.

Both Psalm 104 and Genesis 1 portray God as our Creator, showing how He owns us as His creation and how He is to be praised. The psalm takes the reader from the waters of creation to the terrible waters of the Noahic Flood when they were at their highest, covering “all the high hills” (Genesis 7:19-20; Psalm 104:6-9; 2 Peter 3:5-6).

Scholars have noted the parallels between Psalm 104 and Genesis 1.1

Day 1: Light (Psalm 104:2a)

Day 2: Creation of the firmament, waters above (vv. 2b-4)

Day 3: Dry land appears, formation of plants (vv. 5-18)

Day 4: Luminaries indicating times and seasons (vv. 19-23)

Day 5: Creatures (vv. 24-26)

Day 6: Gift of life by God for animals and man (vv. 27-30)

Believer, never allow anyone to discount the historicity of Genesis 1–2. This magnificent psalm underscores and confirms the literalness of creation’s historical record. CM

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lokiskitten · 3 years

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hello i love ur works omg idk if ur still accepting reqs or suggestions regarding ur stepdad! tom imagines but what abt an imagine in which tom attempts to end the secret affair between him and the reader and then the reader is heartbroken so she gets herself a boyfriend which makes tom jealous then smut ?? idk HAHAHA tyyy

Tom Hiddleston | forbidden behavior

Stepdad!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : around a week after your stepfather called it off regarding the bond you two had developed, you are caught hanging out with a couple of friends in a café. Noticing his presence outside of the building, you decide to join him only to receive the most peculiar lecture of your life.

warnings : stepdad!trope, stepdad x stepdaughter intercourse, jealousy, slight physical abuse, kissing, crotch groping, handjob.

A week had passed since your stepfather had decided to end the relationship the two of you had progressively developed behind your mother’s back. You obviously took this as betrayal, an unnecessary decision which easily led you to develop hatred for the older man- especially after he had managed to convince you that the moments you spent together filled him with as much bliss as it did for you. But these times were now over, and your first mission easily became to avoid him as soon as you penetrated inside of your own home. Before your mother, both you and Tom were obviously forced to make an effort in order to keep your secret on the low- scared that any suspicious behavior would lead your past to come flashing under the lights of the projectors.

On a warm Friday evening, you had decided to stop by a café with a couple of your friends in order to celebrate the end of the week. Within this group stood Trystan, a boy you had finally agreed on offering a chance after breaking up with Thomas. He was nice and well educated, a mass of long black hair covering the top of his head as well as his neck. The young man also brought home plenty of nice grades, which could only be a green flag to your high expectations holding self- adding up to how he had offered to help with your mathematics homework after school. Now this was a proposition you jumped on immediately, but which you knew wouldn’t be able to take place within the walls of your house- and that due to your dragon of a stepfather.

Being too busy laughing with your classmate, you hadn’t noticed Tom’s presence outside of the café, his body leant against his car as he watched you fall for someone else. In fact, he had been following you on your way back home from college nearly every day of the week- satisfying the weird obsession he held for your younger self and easing his crippling anxiety and possessive behaviors. Seeing you with another man couldn’t have driven him more upset, his fists clenching out of pure anger within the pockets of the suit he wore for work. Minutes passed by, and the older man remained leant against his car whilst growing more and more impatient regarding the sweet words and touches you appeared to offer the black haired boy. These touches he knew so well were meant to be his, and this overall sight easily led the adult to regret ever breaking it off with you.

When your head finally looked up in order to divert through the open doors of the café, your heart tightened upon witnessing the stern silhouette of your stepfather waiting against his car. Embrassement and fear progressively started to fill your organism, face decomposing whilst your friends continued to laugh with one another. Thankfully, it didn’t take long until Trystan noticed the way your mood had unexpectedly yet drastically changed. “Hey, Y/n?? You’re okay?” He asked on a concerned tone, his empathy leading your stomach to grow a couple of more knots at the thought of your stepdad witnessing such a scene. “Yeah..I’m fine. I think I’ll be going home now.” you responded politely, catching all of your mates off guard though none of them did a thing to hold you back. They could tell you appeared sick and pale.

“Take care.” Lizzie purred out as you swung your bag over your shoulder, the group’s curious eyes following your silhouette which exited through the door of the café only to end up joining an older man who stood nowhere far from here. Swallowing your saliva, you attempted your best to keep a rather proud expression on your face in order to push Tom a bit closer to the edge. You were aware that he absolutely despised it whenever you held an attitude. “Hi.” Your briefly said, not fighting the situation as your feet immediately started to lead you towards the other side of the car. “Who’s that guy you were with?” Tom immediately asked as he got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. You mimicked his gestures, and the two of you were now sat in the front of his vehicle.

“Just a friend. Why is it important anyway?” You answered harshly, leading your stepdad’s anger to rise above the edge. “Right.” He responded coldly, both of his hands firmly holding onto the steering wheel as he began to drive away from the café. Silently, you watched the way his veins popped out of his skin due to the pressure applied onto his palm- the way his jaw clenched easily matching with his overall tensed and aggressive behavior. Without showing any form of weakness, you simply decided to behave as if you were indifferent face to this situation. You couldn’t exactly tell where Tom was taking the two of you, but even after your breakup you still trusted him well enough not to bring any harm to your fragile mind and body.

You felt surprised and confused to watch him park his car in a nearly empty parking lot, the upset male obviously seeking intimacy for the peculiar lecture he was about to give you. But again, he remained unexpectedly silent, his jaw and chest being the only parts of his body which remained in action. He couldn’t appear to find proper words, though was he truly seeking any? Gathering your courage to take the first step, your lips parted shyly, a single word barely getting enough time to come out of your mouth before you were violently cut off by your stepfather. “Tom-“ you began, body jumping due to the man’s unexpected and quite violent reaction. His palm had collided with the steering wheel, as if the only sound of your voice made him remember about what he had seen back at the café. It was the first time you ever saw him behave in such a way. Usually, he was always calm, friendly. Anger wasn’t an emotion he often felt the need to summon.

“What were you thinking?!” He blamed, the accusations penetrating your ears and leaving your poor mind clueless regarding what he was referring to. All you could tell was that his tone carried hatred, and that therefore his overall body was probably full of this exact same wrath. “Tell me, what were you thinking?” He repeated, this time on a slightly softer tone though this unwelcome touch of dominance remained. Pressing his head back against the seat as air escaped his lips, you finally found the strength to step forward and explain yourself. “He’s just a friend from college. He doesn’t stand up next to you.” You promised, the words escaping your lips as if you two had never put an end to your inappropriate relationship in the first place. “I think about you every day. I think of us.” You added, growing hopeful face to how your words appeared to progressively calm him down.

Tom’s head turned towards yours, ocean blue eyes locking with your unique orbs as the empty parking lot made it feel as if the world around you had stopped. The way his chest moved up and down as he breathed led something to rise within your soul- a sensation you hadn’t felt for over a week... ever since he had decided to put an end to your affair. His veiny hand moved up to your cheek, fingers brushing against your cheekbone before he took the initiative to delicately push a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to see this boy again... ever. You’re mine. My property.” He spoke gently though asserted dominance, allowing you to loose yourself in his soothing tone. However, his head was soon to tilt to the left, his upper body moving closer to yours in order to steal a kiss.

You understood the signals and moved forward as well, his hand still on your cheek as your lips collided against one another’s. His jaw roamed air as Tom took the initiative to intensify the kiss, enjoying this moment after he had been craving the taste of your flesh ever since he took the stupid decision that was ending it all between the two of you. Within a matter of weeks, you had managed to make your own stepfather crazy about you and your aura, your body, flaws and qualities. And whilst Tom continued to enjoy the taste of your lips, your nostrils were filled with bliss as they were finally allowed to breath in his cologne again, a smell you had terribly missed. No scent could’ve potentially replaced the infamous perfume that was your stepfather’s and which you had grown used and attached to through your multiple intercourses.

Growing more and more heated, you took the initiative to slide your hand down until his crotch, fingers tightening against the thick material of his suit which allowed you to feel his prominent bulge through his pants. Tom groaned out of satisfaction as you began to massage his flaccid length which had yet to harden through his trousers, hips buckling upwards just so slightly as if his crotch desired to remain stuck to your palm forever- and that through the help of a denser contact. The warmth which emitted from his groin felt delightful under your bare fingers, a sensation which could only make you crave for more. And so did he. Keeping his lips against yours, your stepfather proceeded to slide both his hands down between his thick thighs, digits unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in a rush which finally allowed you to penetrate within his intimacy.

Sliding past the elastic of his briefs, your hand was soon to come in contact with the slightly hardened member which resided down Tom’s pants. This once he moaned, the vibrations penetrating inside of your moist cavity before his tongue slid inside of your mouth. You were soon to hold up a rather satisfying pace, rubbing up and down his shaft and stopping only when you felt the need to offer him some extra pleasure by giving attention to his testicles. The male broke the buccal contact to collide against his seat, eyelids shutting close as you carried on leading his cock towards orgasm. His member had now hardened properly, revealing his true and generous length which had recently been pulled out of his pants. Just like before, Tom found pleasure in thrusting his hips upwards and participating to the intercourse a bit more than he already was.

“That little boy of yours.. is his cock this big?” Your stepdad asked through seethed teeth, having trouble finding his words due to his clenched abdomen and twitching nutsack. “No...” you responded, being slightly out of breath due to the heated kiss you shared earlier. Hearing these satisfying words coming out of your mouth, the older man couldn’t help but raise his shirt in a hurry before white semen began to sprint out of his overly sensitive urethra, his shaft twitching and contracting in order to propel the sperm out of his crotch. You bit down onto your lower lip face to such a delightful sight, hand moving down to his testicles in order to praise them one last time. This move made your stepfather shiver. You two had finally found yourselves, and it wasn’t any time soon that the older man would ever agree to let go of you again.

“And as you can see... I’m not dead”- all jokes but yes, I am alive and giving the people what it wants😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t very good tho🥺 I hope y’all are taking care!

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kadi-sann · 2 years

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"Edible seaweed" which Shin found in Your Turn To Shine implies his messed up friendship with Hiyori

I'm sure many people while seeing this scene immadietly thought about Shin's and Hiyori's relationship all because of the "seaweed" term used here. Just like Gin calls Midori "seaweed" in a Death Game.

So of course as I am no different from those people and as I love to overthink every detail in almost every game I get into I decided to dwell on it further and share my own interpretation of it.

Now I don't know if Nan thought that far and it was his plan all along or it's just pure coinsidence but if it's the first option then let me tell you: he's a genius.

Because in my eyes it describes the moment Shin met Hiyori for the very first time. We know very well that game heavily implies that Shin is lonely.

Shin finding "edible seaweed" can be interpreted as the moment when he finally found a friend and he's simply happy about it. I mean, it's a FRIEND! He doesn't have to be so lonely anymore!

Next we have a scene when he's being trapped by mentioned seaweed and he calls Mishima for help. Obviously that's a moment when he realizes his friendship with Hiyori is abusive and only drags him down which causes him more suffering the more he struggles. And he wants it to end but he can't do it on his own.

Now there can be two outcomes but the spin off shows only one: where Mishima saves him. If he wouldn't Shin would have drown: Sou Hiyori persona would took over and he would become paranoid how he is in the Death Game, seeing the world just in black and white colors: "Don't trust people or you'll be used just like you were in the past."

But instead like I said Mishima saves him. I like to think that it implies that all Shin needed was this one person: one friend who truly cared, cared enough to save him from Midori's influence and that would be enough to change his way of thinking and would stop him from blocking whole world from him. Like sure he still could be unsure - he was used and abused after all - but if he had that one friend who helped him trough it Shin would have enough evidance to change his way of thinking from "everybody is bad" to "there are people who are bad, but there are also people I can always trust. It's only a matter of time to see who is who."

Then we have a scene where Mishima saves him and Shin is cold. What's interesting Mishima notices "he's cold despite being tropical here" and so he makes him a soup. And that's where another thing comes in: Sou Hiyori's name can be read as "sunny weather" right?

In my mind it can imply Midori's true behavior and nature. He's literally "sunny weather": that charismatic guy who can talk to everybody without any problems, smiles all the time but for some reason you're still cold while being around him, shivering in fear while getting tired mentaly the more time you spend with him. Friendship with him is both exhusting and tiring exactly like sunny weather is when it's too hot outside and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. The longer you'll stay under such sunlight the more you'll get burn.

And then we have the moment when Shin enjoys Mishima's soup and talks how he lied again and again but him saying the soup is delicious is the truth.

And Mishima invites him home after they'll be back from an insland which Shin is surprised about but also accepts the invitation while smiling. Not only that but he's also surprised by the term used by Mishima so casually toward him - "friend". Until now for Shin "friend" was someone terrifying. Which is heartwarming when he adds that "even he wouldn't break a promise between friends" because that means he's delighted to finally meet someone who truly cares. And Shin realises that "friends" don't neceserilly have to be a bad experiance like he had been unlucky enough to feel that way in the past.

As I said he saved him. And I'm sure that's all he needed: to be saved by someone from his abusive relationship with Hiyori and thanks to that he would still have some part left in him that would allow him to trust people to some degree and not being so paranoid all the time. But sadly in the end he was dealing with all of that on his own untill it was too late.

So yeah call me an overthinker but I love to imagine seaweed scene has deeper meaning than meets the eye.

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yazthebookish · 3 years

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Favorite Gwyn moments in ACOSF:

Gwyn immediately calling out Nesta on the sudden change in her attitude because she does not want to be pitied: “I’ve been here for nearly two years, but I haven’t become so disconnected from others that I can’t tell when someone remembers why I am here and alters their behavior.” Gwyn’s mouth flattened to a line. “I don’t need to be coddled. Only spoken to like a person.”

Gwyn not being intimidated by Nesta one bit: “I doubt you’ll enjoy the way I speak to most people,” Nesta said. Gwyn snorted. “Try me.” Nesta looked at her from under lowered brows again. “Get out of my sight.” Gwyn grinned, a broad, bright thing that showed most of her teeth and made her eyes sparkle in a way Nesta knew her own never had. “Oh, you’re good.” Gwyn turned back to the stacks. “Really good.” She vanished into the gloom.

Gwyn getting excited about helping Nesta and doing her research on the trove: Gwyn waved a hand. “Finding objects to help our court protect the world is rather exciting. About as exciting as I’m willing to get these days, but it shall be an adventure.”

Gwyn leaving the library to train for the first time: “I forgot how it feels to have the full sun upon my head.” She peered up again. “Forgive me if I spend some time gawking at the sky.”

Gwyn getting excited when she found out Cassian knew the Valkyries personally: “You knew the Valkyries personally?” Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.

Gwyn mocking Cassian, the general of the Illyrian army: “Time,” Cassian declared, and the three of them collapsed onto the dirt. He laughed again. “Pathetic.” “You try it,” Gwyn panted, lying prone on the earth. “I don’t think even you could survive that.” “Thanks to the passages you sent me last night, I was here at dawn doing the exercises myself,” he said.

Gwyn's understanding and acceptance of Nesta when Nesta opened up to her and saw no judgement on her face: “....I will be glad to have you.” Until Gwyn learned how horrible she’d been. “No,” Gwyn said, apparently reading the thought on her face. She grabbed Nesta’s hand. “You … I understand.” Nesta heard Gwyn’s own heart begin thundering. “I understand,” Gwyn repeated, “what it is to … fail the people who mean the most. To live in fear of people finding out. I dread you and Emerie learning my history. I know that once you do, you’ll never look at me the same again.” Gwyn squeezed Nesta’s hand.

Gwyn writing down their story, the rebirth of the Valkyries as a gift to her friends: The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

Gwyn bonding with the House: Gwyn whispered to the room, “What’s your favorite book?” One thumped on the table beside Emerie’s cake, and Gwyn squawked in surprise. But then rubbed her hands together. “Oh, this is delightful.” “That smile means trouble,” Emerie said. Gwyn’s grin just widened.

Bringing in the friendship bracelets for her friends and sharing a memory of her and Catrin: “My sister and I used to braid bracelets and put these little charms on them full of wishes for each other.” -- “Now,” Gwyn said when they were halfway through, “we make wishes for each other.”

Gwyn about to cut the ribbon: Gwyn stared the ribbon down like an enemy on a battlefield. It rippled in the wind, dancing away, its motions unpredictable as any foe. “Do it for the miniature pegasus,” Emerie said. Cassian had no idea what it meant, but Gwyn’s lips twitched upward. -- Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.”

Gwyn asking for a prize and challenging Azriel: Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

Gwyn's sass around Azriel: Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.”

Gwyn winning and confidently walking up to Azriel to claim her prize: And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea, she only extended her battered hand to Azriel. “Well?”

Gwyn braving to step outside and go to Emerie's house for Nesta's sake: Emerie was the one to say to Gwyn, “I can’t believe you left the library.” Gwyn stroked Nesta’s head. “Some things are more important than fear.” She cleared her throat. “But please don’t remind me too much. I’m so nervous I really might vomit.”

Gwyn spying and outsmarting the Illyrian males during the Blood Rite: She smiled crookedly at Nesta. “I kept to the trees the first two nights, watching the beasts, and I spotted that horrible male and his companions this morning. Saw they’d found my nightgown and displayed it, and I knew they were hunting for you. I thought I’d take them out before they could find you.” “You led the beast right to them.” “I learned where the beasts sleep during the day,” Gwyn said. “And that they get very angry when awoken.”

Gwyn's determination: “I have. And I am tired of it.” She surveyed the blood-soaked leather along her thigh. “I don’t want to take the safe road.” She pointed to the mountain, to the slender path upward. “I want to take that road.” Her voice thickened. “I want to take the road that no one dares travel, and I want to travel it with you two. No matter what may befall us. Not as Illyrians, not for their titles, but as something new. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and restrictions.”

Gwyn's bravery: “I have been broken once before,” Gwyn said, her voice clear. “I survived it. And I will not be broken again—not even by this mountain.”

Gwyn's willingness to win against all odds and to prove to everyone that something new can be as powerful as old rules: “So we climb Ramiel. We take the Breaking. We win to prove to everyone that something new can be as powerful and unbreakable as the old rules. That something no one has ever seen before, not entirely Valkyrie nor entirely Illyrian, can win the Blood Rite.”

Gwyn would rather face the danger with Nesta than leave her alone to face the Illyrian males: Gwyn screamed, “IT IS NOT THE ONLY WAY!” And then she was sobbing. “I will not abandon you to them. They will kill you.” “You need to go,” Nesta said, even as her hands began shaking. “Now.” “No,” Gwyn wept. “No, I won’t. I’ll face it with you.” Something deep in Nesta’s chest cracked. Cracked open completely, and what lay within bloomed, full and bright and pure. She wrapped her arms around Gwyn. Let her friend sob into her chest. “I’ll face it with you,” Gwyn whispered, over and over again. “Promise me we’ll face it together.”

Gwyn taking pride in being a Valkyrie despite becoming a Carynthian, highest rank for an Illyrian warrior: Gwyn laughed hoarsely. “The Illyrians are going to be furious about our winning, you know. Especially because I have no intention of being called Carynthian. I’m content with being a Valkyrie.”

Gwyn teasing and seeing through Azriel: Gwyn's teal eyes flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don't mind sharing the ring. I just . . . I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” Sort of. “I forgot something,” he reminded her. “At two in the morning?” Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered he a crooked smile. “I can't sleep without my favorite dagger.” “A comfort to every growing child.”

Revisiting some of those scenes made my heart burst with so much love for her💓 one of the best things about ACOSF is Gwyn's presence!

#gwyneth berdara #acosf #acosf spoilers #gwynriel

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persephoneyss · 3 years

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The Monster.

Pairing: park jimin x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish.

Summary: ❝You can be reborn like spring, but your nightmares will follow your footsteps at night.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, voyeurism, Jimin is a little delusional, implicit murder, death threats, a little violence, stalking, death of secondary characters, reader idolizes his mother, humiliation.

Number of words: 6000+

︙ Author's note: this is my first fic here, sorry if there are errors. My first language is not English and I don't speak it fluently either, so I used the translator. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it, I am open to criticism. Thanks!

(Puedes leer este y más fics aquí en español.)

To block.

Your mind felt strangely familiar, like it was processing the same situation all over again. And then the same thing happened again.

Blocking.

You never noticed those little details, invisible to the eyes of others. Or maybe you took too seriously the message and advice that your mother always told you when you were afraid of being left alone in your room because of the obvious and silly repetitive story of the monster under the bed, you were crying looking for your mother's room in the middle of the night. You were looking for refuge in her arms. However, the only loving words she had for you were: "Ignore him and he will go away, darling."

It seemed very clever to you, you began to close your eyes ignoring your worst fears and in a short time you could do what most children could not at your age, sleep alone in the dark.

Your mother was wise, maybe that's why you never understood why your father left her overnight. She never commented on the subject and little by little it was forgotten in her daily lives. Your father never existed, you never saw him again.

In his small town no one was exceptionally well known, unless he had done something good or bad enough to be called a hero or, in the same way, a villain. You were barely seven years old when it happened, a family with a lot of money had chosen your town as a decent land, enough to build their luxurious house where their children who came from golden cradles would grow up. According to the gossip, they were foreigners coming to invade their town and rule it, when in reality the Parks never got more involved in politics than necessary.

They were just rich, spending money.

Young women from all over the world and even from other distant towns came every day to try to conquer the privileged children of the great mansion built finely and strategically in the middle of the main square. The young women were beautiful, many times you stood at the door of your house admiring their distinguished perfect faces and you wondered if the children of the Park family were really worth it so that young and beautiful women who had previously been rejected would come back again. in search of new opportunities.

Your mother sometimes stood next to you with a smile and released another phrase that ended up marking your style of thinking, her voice sounded so ethereal: "Money compensates for external beauty, plus the dignity that you lose to those who possess it, it will never have a price."

Your lost look made her smile beautifully badly, then that same sweet voice that taught you things that other women would see as irrelevant, she too moments later she orders you to come home to eat. You thought about it so much, your mother was beautiful, she could remarry if she wanted to. However, she never did, or at least until that day.

You were poor, you were never afraid to accept it. You noticed it almost immediately, when you saw other children playing with toys that seemed impossible that you will ever possess, your mother was friends with the one who was best friends with your father, a carpenter who seemed to be very kind. He always gave you toys that came out with small defects and he couldn't sell, he was a good man until he seemed to misinterpret the situations and her relationship with your mother, unexpectedly asking her to marry him. Obviously you had to stop seeing him after the rejection. However, you were stubborn like the woman who gave you life, almost every day after finishing school you walk two streets to her local.

"How is your mother? Any suitors who weren't rejected the first time?" You laughed, helping him finish his last job. You shook your head, Peter was always very nice and honestly funny, you still didn't understand how your mother could reject them, but you never got into adult affairs. You were just an eight-year-old girl.

"She still misses dad." You whisper trying to drive a nail into loose wood, before being interrupted by Peter.

You look curiously at his downcast face of hers, as if she was keeping something deep within himself. But he quickly changes his expression as well as the subject. "Very good girl, no more help for today" he says, removing the dangerous tools out of your reach, you let out a exhausted sigh wanting to help him. Deep down you felt guilty. "How are you doing in school? I heard that the Parks will start a new campaign to help more in the education of the children, maybe you can see someone from the family up close."

You move your head in distracting affirmation playing with a piece of wood, Peter watches you for a moment and then sighs. You really were special, and if I could tell what happened to your father, you would let go of that glow for sure.

The following days passed in the same way, there was only a radical change in your routine. Now they forced you to stay longer in school so that you could take art classes with the children of the Park family. You had heard many mothers talking to yours about how handsome they were, and since their daughters would undoubtedly have a chance with Jimin, who was the eldest son and of course the first-born heir, you thought for a long time about a tall man with more years than all those young women who hallucinated with the perfect millionaire husband. However, it was all an illusion. Jimin was not a man, he was a seventeen year old teenager.

Perhaps the young woman who did win him over would be very lucky to marry someone her own age and not a bitter old man who only had money. Jimin was everything, young, handsome and a millionaire, the best bet of any woman.

His first class was alongside his current teacher, introducing each child in the Park family. They were all very handsome, but Jimin seemed to shine brighter than the stars in the dark night. You wondered if his younger siblings would become jealous of him, it would be an interesting concept considering you had no siblings.

Your hands moved the clay very patiently, your classmates seemed to enjoy these classes and they were undoubtedly fun.

"What a beautiful flower ..." You smiled nodding, no one would ever think that someone like Jimin would be delighted with the common drawing of any girl. Her gaze traveled around your pure and innocent face, as if she couldn't get enough of you. She sat next to you, admiring how your hands continued to play with the dough creating new shapes and I certainly enjoyed every second.

She had never met someone who would attract so much attention from her, you were ethereal. Jimin was immediately drawn to you, your gaze clear as daylight and your soft features, maybe you were just a girl but you seemed to tempt his attention incredibly badly from him. He felt the strange sensation of making sure you were okay, safe, probably in his arms.

He followed you closely, always arriving at the same time. Her mother used to say that Jimin was very irresponsible, she never complied with the basic principles of being a Park: Discipline, order and punctuality. Jimin was different, his siblings may have fulfilled those three bases just to give what they wanted to their parents and receive more affection from him, but not him.

Jimin was obsessive. Impulsive, and he had self-control issues.

The biggest dangerous trait that his parents noticed since he was little, is that he suffered attacks of anger against anyone without caring about the consequences of this. More than three of his babysitters claimed that little Jimin had hit them, slapping and shoving them. But all of this was radically ignored by the Parks, who turned a deaf ear claiming that their son was simply too controlling, and in a way, he was. Jimin liked to have everything under control, at his disposal.

Jimin found himself fascinated with your little eyes looking at him without fear and, even though it was painful for him, without love. For you, he was nothing more than a stranger. He tried to change that, sitting next to you every day and talking to you a few times when he could get more than two sentences out of you. He liked art, I could tell by the way you focus too much on a small painting of an insignificant tree.

If you liked trees, Jimin could buy a forest for yourself.

You loved roses, he could plant thousands in every corner of town.

Or maybe, your obsession with the smell of vanilla. Jimin went wildly for the most expensive vanilla scented lotion, hoping for some praise from you and he really didn't fail.

No, when the next day he sat next to you and your gaze turned to him with a kind smile. "It smells great, Mr. Jimin." Your soft tone and your minimal compliment was enough to make his entire body shake, his hands began to sweat and his voice seemed to falter. It was amazing how you managed to make him so nervous, while he was still a child.

"Y-do you like it?" She asked even knowing the answer, your head bobbing in a quick nod and an even bigger smile adorns your features.

You put your painting aside for a moment to continue responding, Jimin feels elated to see that his plan worked. Now you're just looking at him, as it always should be. "It smells like vanilla, I like vanilla." You say honestly.

"I see, I also like vanilla." You seem shocked, Jimin increases the tension of him fearing that he said something wrong. He really wasn't lying, maybe vanilla wasn't something he used constantly but he didn't dislike it either, he was just disguising and embellishing a crude truth.

And before long, Jimin feels his life take an unexpected turn, people had started to notice his closeness to you. They called him an angel when in reality he was a devil, rumors and silly praise that he would be a good father were not lacking and the young women who came to his door every day to look for a date with him increased in an exorbitant way. You were oblivious to all that, clearly. However, you could not ignore all the looks that fell on you when you accompanied your mother to the market, as from one day to the next you became someone important just because you were the focus of attention of him Mr. Jimin, as you used to call him with respect. Peter also suffered the consequences of this, you had not stopped going to his store and the young women looking to conquer Jimin or at least get his attention began to follow you wanting to win your affection so that you will speak well of them with their desired man, no you were interested in what they could offer you but the biggest problem was that they did not like to receive a clear 'No.' as a reply.

They were insistent and often annoying. They followed you closely, even when you went to school or to visit Peter who now only went twice a week, you did not want to go out and have to face the pity that it gave you to see many beautiful young women begging for a vague love and that I was looking for more money arrangements than anything else. Also, not all of them had good intentions with you. Your mother made sure of your safety in the face of any incident, and with that came her last word, her strict order not to approach Park Jimin again until he found a wife.

The rest would be history.

He would surely forget you and start forming his own family, having his own children and likewise, looking for his own problems. Instead, that never happened. Jimin had discovered your plan, he was angry, he couldn't believe that you were ignoring his attempts to approach you in such a way. Your attitude was so pure but you were hurting her so much.

He was delusional, she knew he was. But he didn't want to stop. So, he did the only thing that would make you stay by his side.

You felt strangely calm, you had been to and from school with no one following closely in your footsteps. Until you noticed that the whole town seemed to look at you with superiority, with caution. Peter never stopped taking care of his store, however, that day it was closed. You gave little thought to that coincidence, walking home with slow steps. Deep down you were scared.

Maybe you thought you could feel it, in front of your house a crowd of people lay watching the most unexpected marriage request. Your mother was uncomfortable, you could tell by how her face was distorted, and how her hands seemed to shake for reasons not yet known to you. You watched in horror as Jimin knelt before her with a smile pulling a ring out of a small red box.

For a moment, you thought about your father. You felt strange, you always wanted to have a warm fatherly hug but it made you uncomfortable to imagine Jimin occupying that place, you did not want him, you did not love him as a daughter to his firstborn or as another similar relationship. He was a stranger.

Your body fell into the seat reserved especially for you, your eyes observed any place in the church trying to disperse your mind. Your little shoes brushed against each other, your hands rested on the wooden seat waiting for the wedding to end as soon as possible. You never wanted to oppose your thoughts to the idea of your mother falling in love or getting married again, you really didn't care much as long as that person was good for her.

However, he was Park Jimin. You felt disgusted when her mother looked at you from afar with despicable eyes, just as anger consumed you when Mrs. Park tried to embarrass your mother in front of everyone. You didn't ask for this, nobody asked for it.

Maybe you spent too much time thinking around you to notice that Jimin was unhappy. A little upset. He had done what he had to do, chained you to him in some twisted way, marrying your mother and he felt happy, at first. I could see you walking through the church, you were wearing a little white dress to match your mother's and for a sinister moment I imagine that you were the one walking towards him to be named his wife. But he quickly came back to reality, you weren't his fiancée. You wouldn't be his wife.

Deep inside him, he knew how gross it was to feel like this.

Your mother's eyes reflected how unhappy she was, her gaze was uncertain. Jimin smiled seeing how you kicked the decorations that fell to the ground, you were completely oblivious to everything and more to the look of her that she followed you closely. Many called him a good father. Seeing nothing but his protective attitudes, but under the circumstances there were only hints of what might come next. You weren't allowed to leave Jimin's house, his father had left the mansion where his whole family used to live.

Mrs. Park could find no better excuse to leave than the sudden tantrum of her first-born son for marrying an older woman, a widow, and a daughter. This is a mockery and disgrace to her family's last name. Jimin just let her go, he wasn't even there the day her mother boarded the first train to her grandmother's house.

Your mother flatly refused to leave her house at first, she did not want to leave the little cabin that your father had built with his own effort so that both of them would live there and in the future raise their children, you always lived there and you did not want to leave either. But you never had a solid vote, your mother ended up agreeing from one day to the next, you did not know how Jimin managed to change his word so suddenly. Maybe there was never one reason, but you became all of them.

You were painfully present at all times. You observed how little by little, the wispy and wise glow that your mother possessed was getting lost between her empty eyes and her bent body, her head was never raised as she taught you it should be. She was a stranger, you felt scared in her presence. You remembered very well how her face seemed to light up when she saw you coming home from school and how she taught you something new every day.

"Mommy..." You spoke, your hands were still busy with the picture that you hadn't finished painting. But curiosity began to attack your mind.

Your mother came out of the kitchen with a little gray apron, she smiled when she saw you sitting on the floor. "Yes, honey?"

"Why do people get married?" Your gaze lifted from the sheet of paper, wincing at her glowing eyes.

"It depends, it's not necessarily for love. Maybe for money, comfort or ..." her voice trailed off, she still staring at you she leaned down to take your face in her hands. "Because they found someone, as cute as you!"

"Mommy ... I want to marry you!" Your mother began to laugh, your gaze traveled all over her face, joyful of hers and for a moment, you swore that you would hate anyone who dared to take away the great happiness of a genuine smile.

You finished your drawing, just in time because the front door echoed through the entire cabin. Your father appeared with a small drawer in his hands, your mother seemed to be illuminated with an angel when she saw him enter with a kind smile. Both were such for which. They were, more than lovers and husbands, lifelong best friends. Your life seemed to have something that many do not get even after death.

An outer and inner peace. It was perfect.

Almost so perfect, it wasn't true. White roses were always your favorites. However, you began to detest its soft light petals when it seemed that all the townspeople bought the same bouquet of white roses for the funeral of your, now, deceased mother. You took a seat next to her grave, ignoring everyone's greetings and goodbyes, who apparently forgot how her criticism of her increased even as the days, months and years of her wedding with Jimin passed.

You couldn't blame anyone. Or you just didn't want to.

Because the rope around his neck was not placed by them. And the multiple scars on his wrists weren't his marks. A small part of you felt helpless, angry and respectively, disgusted with yourself. Could you help her? Yes. No. Maybe if you had ... And he had stayed in the past.

The little white rose in your hand fell to the floor, everyone had left the room to go to the large buffet served at the reception. You froze, then with the same rage you began to step on the already dead flower at your feet, the petals of it were no more than a pure color, now they were disgusting and dirty. Jimin appeared minutes later, your gaze fell on his hand that was holding a black and a red rose.

"We should go, honey." He whispered as if afraid to scare you even though you were already looking directly at him. Your immobile figure instinctively ran into his arms, which greeted you with an incredibly loving warmth. The roses were placed on top of the coffin, a smile spread across your face when you saw the color red stand out against so much white, and for a second you came to compare the beauty of an outstanding color with your mother.

She stood out in a world where everyone wanted to paint themselves pure white.

Jimin was even more welcoming to you now. He pretended to sleep waiting for 11:30 to arrive so that he could hear your footsteps on the way to his room, you had developed a great amount of fear of loneliness. Jimin knew you always did that, but before it was with her instead of him. You would walk for several seconds looking in the dark for his room, which was next to hers, then I would always hear her voice singing for you, making you rest in his arms. For a long time, I want to be her. But now he was gone and I knew it was a matter of time before your steps stopped at his door.

She loved the closeness of your body to hers, how your hands clung to her nightshirt when you were cold or a horrible nightmare was projected into your dreams. Jimin horribly wishes he could see beyond your dreams, although that would be disrespectful to your privacy, he wouldn't mind breaking your trust too much if he could be sure that you would never walk away from him, even in your dreams.

He managed to chain your life to his, your scared look was the most beautiful thing I have seen before. I want to touch your little face and kiss your soft lips that tempted him every time the word "dad" came out of it.

Time was his greatest enemy.

Your presentation was no better, your hands were trembling again while your feet moved from here to there restlessly. Jimin just watched silently, but the distance between you and him was gigantic, he just wished that the damn bitch that was presented before him would shut up and leave his house. It was remarkable how you seemed angry, maybe it's jealousy, she has feelings for me. He thought sickly, a smile spreading across his face discreetly at his incoherent thoughts of him. The young woman sitting on the sofa in front of him smiled thinking that her talk had caused some pleasure in the young and widowed man.

Jimin admired her face, she was very cute, also she seemed to have good manipulation technique in people. She noticed it quickly when she walked through the door, her smile that seemed uncontrollable and genuine lit up his childlike face. He took a few seconds, he knew he shouldn't do it but he couldn't help comparing the woman to you. You were shorter, you were obviously younger and your gaze was more pure. Jimin was proud of your firm stance, knowing that in the two years since your mother's death you had developed a closer connection with him, and likewise, you were a beautifully perfect copy of him. Your hard gaze and your legs crossed with each other showed your firmness, and your silent opinion.

You wanted the fucking bitch sitting across from your stepdad outside your house.

You laughed at the very idea of one day finding a really good replacement for your mother. You couldn't replace a rose with bad herbs. For you, as selfish as he was, Jimin was your father, and he was your mother's love from the day he married her. No one would replace his position.

It was all three of them, and a part of your mind conned that Jimin still wasn't over the love he had for her. Or he would have remarried long ago, when the young women stood in front of the door of his house asking for a date with him. In those moments you didn't care, Jimin was a stranger, but now he was your father and you were his only daughter. No one had the right to ruin their harmonious relationship, they were both alone and someday serious like him.

You will be successful, you will make a lot of money and you will be able to marry someone you love.

But for now, your gaze fell on the little worn and dirty shoes of the woman in front of you. A smile crossed your face, your gaze lifted surprising the woman. While Jimin waited with his arms crossed for your following action.

"Woman." Your voice seemed to cut her tranquility, her face lost total color of life and a small grimace of fear passed over her fragile face. "I can't allow shoes like that to step on the carpet in my house ..."

The woman looked at Jimin who seemed indifferent, distracted by the painting on the wall.

"I'm sorry miss" she whispered trying to remove her shoes, his hands seemed more clumsy than usual. Her face burned when your hand moved closer to hers to prevent any further movement.

"Go away." A tiny part of you felt sorry for his embarrassed face and flushed cheeks. But it quickly came to your mind that she thought she was good enough to believe she was your mother. When she couldn't even challenge a stupid girl who acted like a spoiled brat. "Get out of my house, or I'll have to ask you not to just take off your shoes."

"I-sorry, I'll go now-..." A sob interrupted her dialogue, her hands searched for the notebook she was carrying but she gave up making a quick bow to Jimin and running outside.

The garden was your favorite part of the big house, the walls constantly made you believe that you were going to be eaten by them. Every day you came out of your lair admiring the many roses of many different colors growing beautiful and healthy. Your school stage was about to begin and you did not want to neglect your garden, which was also a tribute to your late mother.

So you hired a gardener. You were seventeen years old and soon to be eighteen. To say that you managed to experience the best of all those years was ridiculous, and deep down inside you, you thought that all of that was possible because of all the things Jimin did for you.

You had a debt, which you planned to pay in the future. You thought about leaving and letting him have a quiet life from now on without having to run to solve your problems, even if you never asked him to.

Jimin had eyes watching your every move, he clearly remembers how he put security cameras throughout the house, observing how you slept, what you did in the comfort of your room and privacy. Even when you walked into the shower and your hands ran over your body covered in water. Sometimes he felt guilty, for how he seemed to enjoy those moments that seemed so short.

However, it was repeated that as long as you were safe.

Breaking your trust wasn't that important.

Your eighteenth birthday was moderately quiet, Jimin was not used to throwing parties, and honestly, you never asked for one. So you just stood at the door of your house receiving expensive and cheap gifts from people who when they gave you the gift had a forced smile that told you many things. Most were familiar faces, of women who had previously sought a date with your father, obviously being rejected.

The little birthday cake looked so monotonous, the candles were the only thing you could stand out for. You were never aware that you had started to be privileged and extremely ambitious since Jimin proposed to your mother and forced her to marry him, pointing a gun at her pathetic silly little head. You had it all, and in your previous years maybe you managed to get excited about the new toys and accessories that were brought to you from other countries, you had everything that others did not, and a strange epiphany collapsed over you.

It was you, it was déjà vu. You were them, and those who were before, were now you.

You had all of them, and they didn't. Now, by your side, they were all poor. Jimin showered you with gifts, causing you to gradually lose interest in money. You remember your thoughts when it all started and likewise, you still remember the woman with the dirty shoes. You will be successful, you will make a lot of money. It was what you thought in the future for yourself, but now that was it, in a nutshell. Completely boring. You stayed for a moment thinking about them under the watchful eye of your stepfather who tried not to smile when you saw you, you were an adult now and he could finally take you as his own. They would be husband and wife, as it should have been from the beginning of its history.

And you will be able to marry someone you love. You still had only one option left, you blew out the candles with a single sigh causing Jimin to clap his hands and approach you to hug you fondly. The maids behind you only blushed when his boss started showing all of his affection. They weren't used to seeing him so often, Jimin had a firm and tough stance with everyone but he seemed to become as soft as clay in your presence. You came to mold Jimin in your favor, making him a cold person in front of his own demons and then, you left yours.

"I want marriage proposals, father." A gasp came from the mouths of the maids who just immediately fell silent. Lowering their head as they were taught. "I am ready to get married."

Jimin hummed still keeping his arms around you, your body was trapped in theirs. Your skin burned when his fingers squeezed your skin, leaving permanent marks. There was no reaction from you, you were used to this kind of unexpected treatment and it just didn't hurt.

"Get married?" His arms pulled away from you in disgust, there was no other reaction either. Jimin taught you not to object unless you knew you should. Stay calm and you will win. "And can you tell who would want to marry you? Useless little girl."

"Useless?" Your low voice seemed to make him happy for a moment.

Quickly his hands took the utensils to cut the cake, with a soft and sweet voice he continued: "Honey, men do not look for a girl with a lot of money like you. They look for someone to tame, and you, you could easily crush everyone with a wave of your hands."

A piece of the cake perfectly positioned on the plate was placed in front of you, a sob escaping your lips. You were really pathetic, eh? You clearly wanted to live something that has been claimed many times. You weren't going to get married, not without having it all like Jimin said. Then, you would lose everything and go back up to crush the others with greater pleasure.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's your cum-..."

"I will go to a neighboring town, I will finish my studies there."

Jimin looked down at his plate, ignoring how you got up from the table and put your cake aside. Then, your sweet voice finished destroying his self control that he thought he mastered long ago.

"I never liked that cake taste."

And it was the end.

You went back to the start again. You were planning to leave tonight, your bags were ready. Everything you needed was never in that house, it was never him. They were those that never existed in your present continued.

Your shoes did not seem to contrast with the dirt on the town's floor, you were also aware that those would end up in the trash. You didn't care, they were just shoes Jimin bought for your birthday, insignificant.

People were observant, and often foul-mouthed. It was no different than they spoke far from you or close to you, yet their mouths moved in a fussy way exaggerating reactions and creating new lies.

"_____...?" Your posture was decreasing, you no longer had to pretend. A smile covered your face, framing many emotions in one. "Come in please, it's your house."

Peter stepped aside, leaving room for you to enter. Your hands trembled but this time from cold, you still did not get over the harsh winter that suddenly passed. You took your shoes off quickly, briefly forgetting that this was no longer your home. You had sold the little cabin at a minimal price, and you were even happier when it was Peter who chose that place as his future home to live with his wife and his future child. Now he had two more. The little children ran in the tiny room playing with each other, a feeling of nostalgia invaded you when you saw them. You used to do the same before, together with your parents.

Those moments.

"Glad to see you around here, daughter." Peter hadn't changed, he was still the same kind and understanding person as ever. The opposite of you, of course. "Do you want to have tea? I heard on the streets that you would go to study far from here."

"Coffee, please." You responded still reluctant to talk about your departure.

Peter just laughed at your exaggerated denial, nodding and leading into the kitchen. You took a seat at the small table looking around. "You didn't change the decoration."

"Uh? ...." He seemed surprised by your observation, but he quickly smiled. "No. Actually, I think I liked it from the beginning how your ... er ... your mother decorated it. Besides, my wife loved it too. For her, it's beautiful as spring."

"Spring?" You ask, avoiding looking at it. You look down looking for some reason not to feel sad, in a way, you had compared your mother to spring as well. However, Jimin said that you were his. You never liked being called a light, because you always tried to be in your mother's shadow. And you liked it. "She believed that she is very wise, my mother was like spring."

"Thanks." A voice whispered from behind, your gaze fell on her and her face very much like your mother's. But they were obviously completely different. "I never doubted that you were just as wise. Spring represents the new beginning, a new beginning. Did you manage to find yours?"

Peter tried to intervene, clearly noticing the way his wife was trying to make you talk about your life after your mother died.

"I did. That's why I'm leaving here tonight."

"I'm glad we all need to be born again at some point."

You affirm with a small movement of the head, concentrating your gaze on the coffee cup in your hands. The smoke fell directly on your face hiding your grimace of disgust. Nobody deserves to talk about her like that yet.

"Ok, honey." Peter began by sitting across from you, with a cup of green tea and a serene expression. "Are you planning to go alone or with someone? I heard that travel today is very dangerous."

"Actually, I am accompanied by an acquaintance. His name is Jungkook, he also planned to leave and started working for me as a gardener to get the necessary money. We became good friends." You spoke remembering the adorable smile of the young man, he used to accompany you everywhere you went as if his job was to protect you. At first it was cute, but then it was annoying. Even after all that, you preferred to travel with him rather than alone.

"Oh that's very nice. I'm glad you managed to meet your goals. Good luck."

Your goals?

"Thanks, Peter."

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, then he seemed to remember something very important. She gave you a smile before getting up to leave the kitchen.

"I have something for you, you are old enough to know this."

It was an envelope. Common and ordinary, but its envelope was beginning to deteriorate, showing that it was an old and very reserved letter.

You questioned your decision but took it, not wanting to read it in front of anyone even more when you read who wrote the letter.

You sat on the small wall, the trees and the cool breeze boosted your adrenaline. Small pieces of paper fell to the ground. So, you weren't thinking correctly at those times.

"I only married a man that I loved in all my life, I was happy. I had a daughter. I lived years of solitude and then, I was chained to an empty love."

"I know what you're reading this now. You're weak, darling. Maybe that's what made us mother and daughter. Because from the beginning I never had the courage to tell you that Jimin put a ring on my finger and a gun to my head. Or maybe, I was weak when I didn't get in the way of his errand, I should have told him that I hated him and that he could put a bullet in my head before giving it to my daughter. And maybe, I should have told everyone who passed by me that He was the same one who murdered my husband, he never left. I made you believe that. You never asked. "

"I saw you so happy today, you were running between the garden and the wedding. I could see his gaze following your hurried steps, I was almost completely sure that he was trying to get closer to you at all times. I told the woman next to me, But she shut me up saying that I can't be jealous of a father and daughter relationship. You weren't her daughter. She also ordered me to let them create a closer relationship, because I already had Park Jimin's heart in my hands. Liars."

"I always loved your curious voice. You used to ask me everything, and why everything was like that. But lately, I don't know what to answer. Why am I crying? Why is there a dark stain under my eyes? Why is there blood in the bathroom? Why did I never ask for help? I see you worry and you don't let me give you affection, because you prefer to give it to me. I also see how I start to bother him, I am a hindrance. Now I understand, I knew it but I never wanted to accept that it happened. He was everywhere, and likewise, I was never part of the plan."

"There were only two things I didn't tell you. I love you and my last piece of advice. Honey, lock it up and fly to the start, whenever you feel lost. A fresh start and never forget spring."

You stifled a sob. Covering up your pain. You had not noticed that the night had covered the sky, a dark blue blanket arrived. It took you a long time to assimilate that all the fragments were torn papers, and it was not a letter. It was an envelope filled with, apparently, incomplete sheets torn from a notebook. There was a fragment that was not part of the leaves, but rather was written later.

"Lost parts of a sad widow's diary.

Peter."

They were from your mother's diary. So where was the rest? What actually happened? A message came to your phone, you read it quickly still drying your tears.

JUNGKOOK:

Our trip is in an hour, I hope you said goodbye to everyone.

Received at 7:05 p.m.

I still do not:(

Received at 7:06 p.m.

Along with both messages was an attached picture, a photo of him and his grandmother. Jungkook talked a lot about her, and hers, her brothers. You smile, still wiping the tears from your face.

Your feet moved, the leaves in your hands seemed too heavy. And yet it was something you needed to do.

"Are you at home." His monotonous voice invaded you, he was busy reading a book that rested in his hand. The maid came over leaving a cup of coffee beside him, greeting your presence politely. "I have some things to discuss with you, darling."

"Me too, Jimin." It was the first time you had said his name without due respect, he seemed surprised for a moment. But his expression changed to one of happiness, as if he had been waiting for it. "I couldn't say goodbye, I'm leaving today. I think you already know that, though."

"Actually, no. But it's nice to hear it from you."

"I ..." Your voice dried in your throat, a giant doubt fell over you. You didn't want to leave without telling him how much you hated everything about him. His attention, his affection, his smile, his gaze, his voice. Everything about him was disgustingly charming. "I think I'll go get my bags."

Jimin nodded, ignoring your presence. Still distracted with reading him.

"Before you go, can you give me that back, darling?" Your gaze followed where he pointed his finger. Your hand. The leaves were still there.

"It's something of mine-..."

"Oh I don't think so. It really is very easy to threaten someone, just suffice to say that you can put a bullet in their head to make them your obedient little puppets."

"I do not understand your..."

"Me? It was obviously me. I'm surprised you thought your mother would be smart enough to leave a confession letter to her ex-lovers, days before her death. You really had a lot of credit for her." His chatter was accompanied by a laugh. You were paralyzed, shaking in your useless state of shock. "But I will not say that I did not plan, I hoped that you would never have the courage to try to leave my side. And even if that were the case, I knew that you would say goodbye to the only person who reminded you of her. Peter, she has a family. lovely."

Nor did he expect you to have the courage to cheat on him with another man. Oh, the gardener. Poor Jungkook, his body now rested leaving behind your favorite flowers. Jimin bit his lip, another mocking smile peeking out with intensity remembering the cutthroat figure of the innocent but guilty young man.

You were his...

"How can you be so cruel?" The doubt in you seemed to want to keep growing, passing second by second through your head. You weren't sure you could understand that everything that happened in front of you was actually planned by the same person who swore never to leave you alone. The same man who disguised himself as a sheep so he could eat you like a wolf. "Did you kill my mother ?!" Jimin seemed surprised by your desperate tone, he did not expect to be able to unbalance your state so easily.

It was lovely. Certainly.

"No sweetie." He murmured closing the book in his hands, setting it on the table next to the steaming cup of American coffee. "But it would have been exquisite to be the reason for his pain. Unfortunately, it was your father who won that title."

"Where did you get this from? I know she wrote it, and I also know that she would never give it to you knowing what a monster you are." Tears were running down your cheeks like water, you knew you were a mess but Jimin seemed to look at you like you were a perfect work of art.

"I found it." He spoke casually, getting up from his seat. Walking slowly towards your trembling figure. "It was a coincidence, I like casual things. It was a coincidence that you studied at that school, that your mother was a widow, that your father died. That he will make me fall in love with you."

What is your goal now?

"I love you darling."

Escape from the monster.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #bts #yandere!bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #Yandere #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #yandere jimin x reader #jimin yandere #jimin x you #park jimin #yandere!jimin #jimin smut

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gwynrielsupremacy · 3 years

Text

Time to rest your weary head - PART 12

OK. this was officially the most fun chapter to write y'all! And since the last one was so short (and ended in a cliffhanger lol) I decided to free you of your anxiousness and hand you now......... THIS RIGHT HERE. enjoy, folks!!!

Chapter List

@madie2200 @starbornsinger @katiebellf

She could do this. She could do this. Gwyn kept mentally repeating to herself for the few seconds between her subtle decision of telling Azriel about their mating bond and right before she opened her door. She couldn’t hear anything below the thrumming of her heart, blood pounding in her arched ears as she inhaled deeply.

She was a Valkyrie. Confessing her feelings to a male was nothing. Except that it wasn’t just any male. It was Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, the Shadowsinger, and her friend. Her mate. And she wasn’t like any female. She was hurt, and tarnished and –

No. She wasn’t about to fall in that pattern of behavior. She was so much more than what happened to her. She was the rock against which the surf crashed. Nothing could break her. Not again, and not anymore.

So she was determined to let it all out. She needed to be fair, for both of their sakes. She owed it to herself, that honesty and truth. And her newfound friends and family were there to prove it. She could be happy, she should be happy. And although having fears was a part of the process, hers wouldn’t dominate her anymore. She could still walk on her own pace and be mindful of her boundaries.

She opened the door. She would do it, she would talk, and Azriel would listen –

Like summoned by her thoughts, there he was; standing in her doorway, a hand in the air, as if he was seconds away from knocking. Still dressed in that beautiful evening attire, the black silk of his tunic matching the color of his raven hair, staring at her with such unwavering intensity that made her knees buckle.

She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

“Gwyn, I…” He looked hesitant, and she didn’t know if that made her feel more or less nervous.

Seeing his pause, she motioned for him to come in, desperately trying to calm her racing mind to what could he possibly be doing there. She didn’t dwell on it any longer as she now faced him, and observed quietly as he crossed his hands behind his back, refraining himself. She clutched her hands on the folds of her skirt, both because they were trembling and because she felt that, if she didn’t, she would boldly cross the room and reach for his face.

“I don’t know how to tell you this.” Azriel started, and they stood a considerable distance apart. His shadows seemed to be in an internal dispute, some trying to go for her and others hovering on his shoulders. His voice was low and quiet, sending shivers through her spine as he continued: “But I won’t keep this to myself anymore. I could do it, but I just… It wouldn’t be fair to you. To us.”

She swallowed hard, and her heart beat faster in her chest. “Az, I…”

“Please.” He softly interrupted her “Just… Let me say this.”

All she could do was nod as he turned away from her stare, his gaze lost within the logs of the crackling fireplace in front of him. Something in his tone made her tear up. Mother, she didn’t even have the chance to say how she felt and now there he was: melancholy in his voice as if he was going to deliver some bad, bad news.

But then…

“You must know something. But first, you need to know that you don’t have to do anything about it if you don’t want to. I would respect and understand any decision you’d make, always. Even if you didn’t want to ever see me again” The words poured from his mouth, as if he had the same intent as her: to let it all out. His sharp inhale and the way he met her stare, worry and insecurity behind that casual indifferent mask, shattered her.

She could suddenly see both of them in the theater again; staring into each other’s eyes like it was only them in the whole world. That damned pause after he called her beautiful, pure emotion in his voice. With a jolt, she knew what he was going to say next.

“And I would do it without even thinking twice because, Gwyn, we’re-”

“Mates.” She completed his sentence, softly.

His eyes grew wider as a few shadows swirled around her, agitated.

“You knew?”

She nodded, closing her eyes slightly before opening them up again, taking a couple of mind stilling breaths that allowed her to focus.

This is it. You can do this.

“Since my birthday.” She saw the way his posture switched from caution to rather curious, some tension easing up on his shoulders as he took in her words. “I was hoping… I was giving some time, trying to understand how I felt, how to tell you this... But after tonight, I just had to let you know. I was meaning to come after you, but it seems you beat me to it.”

She knew he was gathering up the pieces by the way his eyes were quickly scanning her, his brows slightly furrowed as he read into the looks and blushes she cast him on training, how differently she talked to him on the first days after his surprise.

“Why? I mean” He corrected himself, hoarsely “Why after tonight?”

“Because tonight was amazing” She took a step towards him, watching him nervously, barely hiding the small smile spreading on her face now, her eyes glimmering “Because you are amazing, Azriel. And I like you a lot.”

He also took a step and she observed joyfully as wonder appeared on his features, his eyes widening just a little at her words, his heart racing. Just like hers. His shadows were all over the place right now, as if he’d forgotten all his worries. Or if he didn’t particularly care about them at the moment.

“I like you too, Gwyn. A lot.” His voice rumbled through her spine, making her shiver. Mother, he was handsome. She closed their distance in one last step, and now they were face to face, staring at each other with such intensity it could have made her melt. “And I will do whatever you’d like. I mean it, if you don’t want to accept the bond, I would-”

“I know.” She quietly interrupted him, nodding.

They stood quiet, staring at each other for a couple of seconds, and Mother if she couldn’t help the shift in her tone now, the way her voice automatically lowered and softened, before she found herself asking:

“And what do you want to do?”

He watched her every breath, assessing her with a different kind of emotion in his darkened eyes as she stared back at him expectantly.

“I want you, Gwyn.”

His longing, warmth, careful words and actions, the way he pronounced her name, it all caused her heart to burst with passion, heat spreading through her. Like she was everything he could think about, but he was still concerned he’d make her uncomfortable.

So she finally gave in to that aching need of touch and reached to his face, her thumb caressing his cheek. She leaned in and placed a feathery kiss on his lips, giving in to the jolt of electricity that sparked at the mere touch. When she pulled away, seconds later, she found him gazing at her lips, before meeting her stare again. His eyes had widened just a little, as if he was trying to process what had just happened.

He placed his palm on top of hers that was still on his cheek, his shadows encircling them. She could hear his heart even clearer now that they were so close, and a soft smile bloomed on her mouth. With his left hand, he tugged a strand of her copper hair behind her ear, brushing lightly against her face.

She saw the question in his eyes before he even asked, his voice like velvet, eyes tinged with mischief and carefulness and heat: “May I kiss you back, Berdara?”

“Of course, Shadowsinger.” She breathed.

When they lips met again, it felt like the world stilled around them. It was so much more than she thought it could be. Azriel gently cupped the back of her neck, sending shivers all over her, while she rested her free hand on his chest. The kiss was gentle, and soft, but also a bit more intense than the one before and filled with an array of emotions Gwyn couldn’t begin to convey. Suddenly she recognized she’d been waiting for this for a long, long time. To be in his arms, to taste his lips...

His hand left hers and stopped at her waist, and they parted. She was panting lightly as she took in his ragged breathing, his darkened eyes and swollen lips. What a delightful sight.

She couldn’t help smiling once again, which turned to a breathless chuckle as he grinned back before resting his forehead on hers. They stood like that for a few seconds, breathing each other’s scent and smiling like fools, and Gwyn allowed herself to close her eyes and fully take in the moment. The way she felt at ease and relaxed at his presence, in his embrace. The pleasant heat that spread through her as the kiss deepened, that thrilling sensation that threatened to leave her comfort-zone, and how she didn’t seem afraid of it – of everything that came with it. She wanted to face that with him, someday. Right now, she would just enjoy being in his arms.

After a moment, her curiosity settled in and she realized he hadn’t told her for how long he knew about it:

“Az” A soft hum in response “Since when did you know?”

She lifted her head and faced him fully, waiting for his response. Admiring those beautiful features and lines that hid so much from the world, yet were so openly gazing her now.

“I heard you.” Seeing how confusion stamped her face, he let out a soft chuckle “Singing, one night after our dinner at the River House. I was at the training ring, and your voice… It beckoned to me, to my shadows, and my feet moved at their own accord until I stopped at your door. It was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.”

She raked her fingers through his silk raven hair, and marveled at how smooth it was. His eyes shut for a moment, before he hugged her, keeping her close.

“You know” His voice was a sweet tune on her ears, his breath on her neck “With the mating bond acknowledged, I don’t think we’ll be able to cover our scent. Everyone will find out.”

“About that” She almost forgot. “We’re not the only ones to know.”

He faced her again, brows furrowing.

“Oh?”

“Rhysand.”

She could see by his amused laugh that was not the answer he thought he’d have. But he let her continue as she went through what had happened all those nights ago. How Rhysand had figured it out, the same night that Azriel did. After she was done, Azriel just shook his head lightly, still with that dimpled half-smile.

“I could talk to him, if you’d like privacy for some time. Although my shadows could perhaps cover the scent, I think the spell Helion taught him while Feyre was pregnant would prove more effective.”

Gwyn mulled over his words, considering. Her most reckless self wanted to be carefree and confident and discard the offer; but she thought the pressure of everyone knowing about them might be just a little too much. Baby steps, she reminded herself. There was no problem in hiding from the world what they had for now: what mattered was that they both knew it. And she wouldn’t risk her new relationship with Azriel for her pride: she needed to respect her boundaries, after all. And she knew he would be on board with whatever she decided.

So she nodded.

“Only for a while; I think it would be good.”

“For as long you want, Gwyn. You know we’ll do this at your pace.”

It was like he had read her thoughts. She chuckled quietly in response, and without saying anything, closed their distance once again to brush her lips against his; Mother, she would never get enough of that feeling. Of the fact she could just lean in and kiss him. Something so intimate yet she once thought it would never happen to her; she never thought she’d want it to.

But she did, so badly, and he was there, with her, one arm pulling her close and the other set firmly on her hips, and she enlaced her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss even more, feeling his warmth and his grip around her, gentle yet steady… She let out a sigh, and heard a small groan in response from him as he reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily and facing her with a growing need that made her stomach flutter. They would go slow, and they both knew it, in a silent agreement. That’s why he parted their kiss.

“Are you going right away?” Her voice was no more than a whisper as she tried to pull herself together.

“I don’t particularly want to, but I will. I’ll see if Rhys is still up.” He sighed, murmuring. “You should get some sleep.”

She hugged him tight, placing her head on his chest and savoring the sensation of his muscles under his silk tunic. Pressing one ear to his broad torso, just like she did the night of her birthday; feeling his warmth, breathing in his scent. She didn’t want to let go just yet, but she could feel the tiredness creeping in, the adrenaline now leaving her body. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Az.”

They parted at last and she held his hand and stare, interlocking their fingers as they moved slowly towards her door, shadows finally gathering around their master. She stood by her threshold and watched as he lifted her hand slowly to his lips and kissed it, never taking his eyes off her.

“Good night, Gwyn.”

She fell asleep just a few seconds after laying down, almost believing it had all been a dream; the tingling sensation on her hand and mouth and the way his scent lingered on her, lulling her to sleep, the only things to prove her otherwise.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #this is part 12 now #gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #fluff and steam #i love them so much #azriel and gwyn #gwyns birthday #azriel is cute #they like eachoter #they're mates #i live for gwynriel #did someone ask for gwynriel moments #gwyneth berdara #azriel #gwyn x azriel

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 3 years

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The King’s precious gem...

For the sweet @marilynmonroefanfics

Hope you will enjoy this story!

"Here comes King consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

"This social climber? Don't even talk to me about this little nobody!"

"Quiet! If King Thranduil hears you, he will make you pay! The last one who dared disrespect his husband ended up in jail for almost 20 years. Luckily for him, (Y/N) pardoned him. Besides, the people loved him!"

(Y/N) did not care about those gossips on his trail: he knew he deserved his place next to the king. What a long way since he was only a healer!

The young elf can heal since his younger days. Noticed for his gifts, he succeeded in working at the royal court. However, he did not expect to be the friend and confidant of Prince Legolas.

The two young men fought together against the Orcs or any enemy of their kingdom.

One day, (Y/N) managed to save the life of Legolas when the latter fell ill. Worried about his son's safety, King Thranduil hired the best healers of his kingdom to treat him. Only (Y/N) managed to heal the young prince.

Grateful, the monarch allowed him to stay in the court. Then, he started to get interested in this young healer who can play with a knife and medicine. The elf king always found an excuse to spend more time with (Y/N).

Slowly, a romance blossomed between them, much to the surprise of Legolas.

When the court heard about this affair, it was a shock for many of the royal counselors. Indeed, they took a very dim view of this young commoner. However, the people immediately loved (Y/N) and accepted him as their new king consort.

Since this day, (Y/N) was allowed to sit next to The King. And today, he felt his presence would be helpful for his husband, as the latter was about to greet a delegation of dwarves. This delegation was led by Thorin Oakenshield, the grandson of Thror, King of Erebor. It sounds like his beloved husband would need his help.

It is necessary to say that between Thranduil and the Erebor royal family, there was a feud that lasted for years.

As he arrived in the throne room, a servant announced:

"His Majesty King Consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

Slightly smiling, the young man saw Thranduil sitting on his throne.

The monarch talked with a guard:

"Let those dwarves coming here. However, be careful with this Thorin Oaekenshield: I fear he might be like his grandfather..."

"All the guards will be vigilant, Your Majesty!" stated the armored man as he saluted his king before leaving the room.

Thranduil turned his hand and gently gestured to his husband:

"Come here, my love."

"This is what I intended to do, my adored." (Y/N) smiled as he sat on his throne.

Thranduil reached (Y/N)'s hand and held it.

"I am glad that you find some time for me."

"Well, I know this meeting is capital for you. Besides, I would like you to avoid a new feud between our people and the dwarves of Erebor."

The elf king sighed.

"What can I say? You cannot trust dwarves. Especially those who come from under the mountains."

"Who knows? Maybe Thorin would be different..."

Thranduil scoffed.

"I wish I was optimistic like you, my sunflower."

"Let see..."

Suddenly, a guard shouted:

"Thorin Oakenshield and his delegation are here, Your Majesties. Gandalf the Grey is here too!"

"What this wizard is doing here?" grumbled Thranduil.

"We'll see in time..."

Shortly after, the company of Thorin Oakenshield arrived in the throne room. Among the dwarves, (Y/N) noticed a hobbit, which surprised him.

But, much to his delight, he noticed the presence of Gandalf.

"Dear Gandalf, what a pleasure to see you!"

The old wizard politely bowed with a smile:

"The pleasure is reciprocated, King (Y/N)."

As for Thranduil and Thorin, they stared stonily at each other. The Durin dynasty and the Elf King always had difficult contacts. All the story with Smaug did not improve it, and even if Thorin finally regain his throne, he never forgave Thranduil for giving up on his people when they needed help.

"Greetings, o delegation of Erebor. I hope the journey was not too arduous," said Thranduil with a cold tone.

"It went well, Your Majesty," politely said Balin with a respectful bow.

"It is a pleasure finally meeting the brave company of Thorin Oakenshield. The same company who dared fight Smaug The Terrible and gained back their kingdom," added (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

All the dwarves giggled with a blush on their faces. They all heard about King (Y/N) of Mirkwood, known as "The Gentle King" by all realms. Even Dwalin, who could not stand elves, was not able to resist.

The two kings started to negotiate new treaties between their respective kingdoms. Unfortunately, as they were both stubborn, they did not agree on anything.

"WHAT? YOU WANT US TO SELL OUR METAL? THAT IS DAYLIGHT ROBBERY!" yelled Thorin.

"It is ABSOLUTELY out of the question that my people would low the price of our wooden crafts," replied Thranduil with anger.

As for the other dwarves, they stayed silent while watching their sovereign sparring verbally with The Elvenking.

Meanwhile, Gandalf talked with (Y/N).

"I expected that they would fight. I hope you're not annoyed, dear (Y/N)."

"Not really, my dear wizard: I am not surprised by their behavior. They never got along, and I am afraid it will not change."

Suddenly, (Y/N) noticed Bilbo slowly coming towards him. Gandalf exclaimed:

"Ah, I forgot! I should introduce you to our dear Hobbit! Master Baggins, this is King (Y/N) of Mirkwood. King (Y/N), I would like to introduce Bilbo Baggins to you. Without his talents, this quest would have failed."

Intimidated, the Hobbit awkwardly bowed:

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Baggins."

Catching his breath, Bilbo replied:

"I have to say, Your Majesty: when I told all the inhabitants of Hobbiton that I would meet you, they all ask me to check if you were as handsome and benevolent as the songs said..."

The King consort asked, amused:

"And do I meet your expectations, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo brightly blushed before replying:

"The truth is, O (Y/N), the songs did not have enough words to praise your handsomeness and kindness."

"That is very kind of you, Mister Baggins."

Fidgeting his fingers, the Hobbit:

"May I ask you something, O generous monarch?"

"What is it, Mister Baggins?"

"Well... The people of Hobbiton want to have proof that I met you. And I would like to know if you could provide me some evidence."

The King consort smiled:

"Did they ask for something in particular?"

"Not really."

"Then, I think I can help you," replied (Y/N) as he cut one of his dark locks.

Then, he put in a golden pendant, engraved with his portrait, before handing it to Bilbo Baggins.

"When you will come back home, tell your people that it is the present from the King consort of Mirkwood to the bravest Hobbit."

The Hobbit stared with amazement at this gift.

He stammered:

"Your Majesty... I have no words to tell you how grateful I am!"

"There is no need, Master Baggins: your actions speak louder than your words."

(Y/N) did not notice that Fili was looking at him with adoring eyes.

Indeed, the nephew of Thorin swore he never met such a handsome man in all realms. It such a shame this perfect elf married Thranduil.

He came towards (Y/N) and politely said:

"I am pleased to meet you, King (Y/N)."

"The pleasure is mine, Prince Fili."

The young Dwarf prince felt his heart skipping a beat: this voice! It was like hearing millions of birds singing in harmony.

Clearing his throat, he asked:

"Your Majesty, may I ask you something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

To the surprise of all the people gathered in the room, Fili asked:

"Are you aware that your handsomeness is the most deadly weapon of all realms?"

All stopped talking - or yelling - and looked at the scene with surprise on their faces.

As for (Y/N), he was astonished by this question.

"Well, I am not aware that I am dangerous to this point. Could you tell why?"

Smirking, Fili declaimed:

"Like a battering ram,

Your smile makes the walls around my heart crumbling down.

Like a sharpened sword,

Your eyes destroyed the shield that protects my mind.

Like an arrow,

Your voice pierced me to the core.

And like a defeated army,

I surrender to the love I feel for you."

"WHAT?" exclaimed (Y/N).

"How dare you, you filthy dwarf!" yelled Thranduil.

"Do not use that tone with my nephew!" scolded Thorin.

Unaware of the upcoming threat, Fili pursued his declaration:

"It is the truth! You're so handsome, kind, wise, and pure. You deserve better than those arrogant elves!"

"Fili, shut up!" gritted Kili.

Feeling the anger boiling in the eyes of the Elvenking, Gandalf tried to calm the situation.

"Your Majesty, please forgive this young dwarf. He lets the ardor of youth speaking louder than his reason," he said while giving a slight slap on Fili's head.

Balin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: not only he had to deal with the short-tempered dwarf king, but he had to handle his carefree prince.

As for Dwalin, he inwardly chuckled: he despised Thranduil, and seeing Fili courting the King consort of Mirkwood amused him.

Meanwhile, Fili claimed his love for (Y/N):

"Come to Erebor, o blossoming orchid. I would make you the happiest prince of all realms."

"Listen, Fili: your gentleness towards me is moving. But, in case you are not aware, I am married and happy!"

"And I would let no one, and especially NO DWARF, courting my spouse!" fumed Thranduil.

When he heard that, Fili had a deadpan expression on his face and declared:

"Then, I know what I have to do..."

"What do you mean?" asked Balin, sweating with dread.

"Why I fear he might say something stupid?" muttered Bilbo.

They were not out of the woods!

"I, Fili, son of Dis, grandson of Thrain, solemnly demand the hand of (Y/N) of Mirkwood as my husband!"

"WHAT?" yelled the dwarves.

"Oh no!" groaned Kili as he facepalmed.

As for Gandalf, he feared that Thranduil would be mad. And it was the case!

"Stay away from my husband, you idiot!"

Thorin snickered, which angered the elf king.

"May I know what causes your hilarity, Thorin Oakenshield?"

"At least, it proves that my nephew has good taste. And perhaps (Y/N) will appreciate our beautiful kingdom, far from your bunches of hypocrites!" replied the latter.

"What do you mean?"

"Either you are deaf, or blind... or stupid. But I find it hard not to notice that your royal boot-lickers are not happy to see a consort that is not from royal lineage!"

"Please, can we go back to the negotiations?" pleaded Balin.

"Not until this idiot stops courting my husband!" yelled Thranduil.

"Oh, shut up, you pointed-ears princess: nobody asked for your opinion!" growled Bombur.

"Guys, stop it!" begged Bilbo.

"Besides, Fili: it is not possible to marry (Y/N)!" explained Kili.

"And why?"

"First of all, he is already married! Secondly, he is an elf from the woods. He does not belong to the mines, neither the mountain!"

"Ah, I did not think about this... Ah, I have a plan! I shall create a beautiful garden on one of the mountain plateaus!"

"Oh, so you can plant something else than a vegetable patch?" said Thranduil with irony.

"You want to fight?" screamed Oin.

All this argument created chaos that gets on the nerves of the wizard.

"CALM DOWN, ALL OF YOU!" ordered Gandalf in a booming voice.

All immediately stood silent, terrified by the charisma of Gandalf.

Once the silence fell on the room, the wizard said:

"I did not try to stop a war for enduring your silly bickerings!"

"But..." protested Thorin.

"DO NOT DARE CONTRADICTING ME!"

As for (Y/N), he decided to put an end to this mess.

He turned to Fili and declared in a soft voice:

"Fili, I would like you to listen to me carefully!"

The latter nodded, afraid of the answer.

"I am all ears, (Y/N)."

"Fili of Erebor, I appreciate your compliments towards me because I feel they were sincere and pure. But for once and all, I am already married to the man I love more than my own life.

I am aware that I am just a gold digger, a social climber for many royal counselors. A little nobody that does not deserves to wear the crown of Mirkwood. But do I care? No.

Because all the elven people love me, Legolas helped me, and my husband would never let me go. It is more than enough for me..."

Fili sighed.

"And to say I was thrilled to introduce you to Mum. I am sure she would love you!"

"I have no doubt. But I belong to Mirkwood and his king, against all odds."

"Besides, I am sure that Mother would surely want you alive and not beheaded by a MAD ELF KING because you try to steal him his husband, you jackass!" replied Kili, fed up with his brother's shenanigans.

"Anyway, we sorted this story, and there is nothing to worry about!" wisely said Gandalf.

"I hope so..." coldly stated Thranduil.

A few hours later, the dwarves and the Elvenking managed to find some common ground. Then, Thorin and his company went back to their kingdom, followed by Gandalf and Bilbo.

As he nearly walked out of the door, Fili shouted to (Y/N):

"Dear (Y/N), if one day you come to Erebor, I promise I will show you the garden I create for you. I keep my words!"

"I can't wait to see it, dear Fili!" smirked the king consort of Mirkwood.

Once the delegation left, Thranduil sighed and said:

"Finally, they're gone! I swear to the moon that those dwarves would kill me!"

"Well, you managed to survive. Speaking of surviving, I am surprised that you did not kill Fili on the spot!"

"My dear daffodil, you have no idea how much I wanted to cut off his head!"

Amused by this fit of jealousy, (Y/N) asked:

"But you know I would never leave you, right?"

The Elvenking gently smiled and held the hand of his husband.

"No doubt about you shall ever cross my mind, dear.I know you will never leave me."

He gently kissed (Y/N)'s hand before the pair exited the room.

On their way, the king asked:

"Now, my waterlily, could you tell me the names of my royal counselors who disrespected you? I think I might need to have a little conversation with them..."

"I assure you, Thranduil, there is no need..."

Thranduil gently shushed his consort by putting his finger on (Y/N)'s lips.

"I have to do it, my love. After all, no one dares to be rude towards the King's precious gem without suffering consequences!"

Slightly blushing, (Y/N) smiled at this compliment.

And as they went to the dining room, (Y/N) felt like something new arrived in Mirkwood. He believed that one day, the court would not look at him as (Y/N) the little nobody with a crown, but as (Y/N) of Mirkwood, the king consort of this kingdom and the King's precious gem.

Long live the kings...

Thanks for the reading!

I hope you enjoy the story and I can’t wait to see future requests!

See you soon and take care! 😘🥰😍

#requests #the hobbit #thranduil #fili #lee pace #ben barnes #dean o'gorman

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dfroza · 2 years

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Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the book of First Peter:

If you love life

and want to live a good, long time,

Then be careful what you say.

Don’t tell lies or spread gossip or talk about improper things.

Walk away from the evil things in the world—just leave them behind, and do what is right,

and always seek peace and pursue it.

For the Lord watches over the righteous,

and His ears are attuned to their prayers.

But His face is set against His enemies;

He will punish evildoers.

The Letter of First Peter, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice:

Peter urges us always to be ready to give a reason for the hope that lives within us. But it is important that it be done not with arrogance and contempt, but with gentle ness and love—the same virtues that should guide our responses to any hostile challenge. This is one way we can glorify Jesus as King over all our lives—by exalting Him with both our emotions and our intellect.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 20th chapter of the book of Numbers where the people again complained against the leadership of Moses and Aaron:

After the Israelites, the whole group of them, journeyed into the Zin Wilderness during the first month, they set up camp in Kadesh. And it was there that Miriam died and was buried.

They ran out of water and again blamed their leaders, Moses and Aaron.

Israelites (arguing with Moses): It would have been so much better if we had simply died along with the rest of our relatives, Korah, Abiram, and Dathan, right in front of the Eternal One. Why in the world would you drag us, the Eternal’s own group, out of Egypt into this wilderness where we’ll soon die and our livestock too? And there aren’t any grains, figs, grapes, or pomegranates, and there isn’t even any water!

After hearing them out, Moses and Aaron walked away. At the congregation tent’s opening, they collapsed to the ground, interceding for the people. Then and there, the Eternal’s glory shone for them to see, and He spoke to Moses.

Eternal One: You and Aaron grab the staff before the covenant chest, gather the whole group so that all the people can see and hear you, and speak to the rock. Tell it to release its water for them to use. In this way, you’ll get water from the rock for everyone to drink, including all the animals.

So Moses did that. He took the staff just as God told him to do. Then he and his brother gathered all the people in front of the rock.

Moses (to the Israelites): Listen up, you rebellious lot. Should we get water for you from this rock?

And as he spoke, Moses raised his hand and hit the rock—once, twice—and immediately the water came gushing out. All drank their fill, people and animals alike. But the Eternal One scolded Moses and Aaron for their actions.

Eternal One: Because you didn’t trust Me and treat Me as holy before the Israelites, you will not lead this group into the land I have given them.

Because at this spot the Israelites rebelled against the Eternal and the display of His holiness, the water here is called Meribah, which means “rebellion.”

Also while in Kadesh, Moses sent a message to the Edomite king.

Moses’ Message (to the king of Edom): Greetings from your brother, Israel. You’ve heard how hard these past years have been for us; how in the midst of famine, our ancestors journeyed down into Egypt; and how after settling there a long while, the Egyptians began to treat our ancestors and then us harshly. The Eternal heard and answered our pitiful cry, actually sent a messenger and led us out of Egypt. Now here we are in Kadesh, right at the border of your country. Would you please grant us permission to cross through? I promise that we won’t take anything from your seeded farmland or cultivated countryside. Nor will we drink from your wells. We will stick to the main road, the king’s highway, and not step off it either to the right or left until we’re well past your country’s limits.

Edom’s Message: No. If you so much as put a foot in our territory, we’ll attack you.

Israelites’ Message: But we will keep strictly to the highway and pay you if any of us or any of our animals drink any water, only let us pass through.

Edom’s Message: Absolutely not.

At that point, the Edomites indeed came out in force, fully armed, against the Israelites. This response proved there was no negotiating with Edom for passage, so the Israelites turned to go another direction.

The whole Israelite community packed up and left Kadesh. They journeyed to the edge of Edomite territory, to Mount Hor, specifically.

Eternal One (to Moses and Aaron): Because you two didn’t follow My orders back at the waters of Meribah, it is time for Aaron to die and be with his ancestors. So bring Aaron, along with the son who will be his successor, Eleazar, up to Mount Hor. There, you shall strip Aaron of his priestly garments that distinguish him as the priest of priests and put them on Eleazar. There, Aaron will join his ancestors in death.

With a heavy heart, Moses did just as the Eternal One had instructed. These brothers, now old, slowly made their way up Mount Hor while the whole community watched. When they reached the top, Moses stripped Aaron of his priestly robes and put them on Aaron’s son, Eleazar. And Aaron died there. Then Moses and Eleazar went back down the mountain. Understanding that Aaron was dead, the family of Israel wept for 30 days.

The Book of Numbers, Chapter 20 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice:

Will these people never learn? But why should they be any different than the rest of us? We all tend to forget God’s provision, and we focus on the challenge before us. God has been leading them through a region full of challenges. You would think that after 40 years of daily provision from God in the wilderness these people would quit fearing the worst, especially since they have already gone through this very same experience once before—when they came out of Egypt in Exodus 17. Unfortunately, Moses doesn’t follow God’s instruction just as it is delivered to him, so he, too, is unfaithful. Instead of “provision” or “water-of-plenty,” the place is known as Meribah (“rebellion”). They are to remember their lack of faith and their active rebellion against God their savior every time they mention this place.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, june 30 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about humility:

Those conscious of their inner poverty, those who mourn over their sinful condition and are afflicted with themselves, can let go of the need to "manage appearances," to be in control, or to seek validation from others, and therefore they are set free to surrender their lives to God's care. They "flow" with the Father's will as a "gentle breeze," no longer resisting or striving, but simply trusting in God's care. When they are wronged, they seek neither revenge nor vindication, but only restoration (1 Pet. 2:23). Paradoxically, it takes strength to be genuinely "lowly of heart," but such is found in the Spirit of God (Zech. 4:6). Indeed, the Spirit leads us to our inheritance: "the humble shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace" (Psalm 37:11).

Yeshua quoted this verse when he said, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Matt. 5:5). The Koine Greek word translated "meek" is πραεις (or πραος), better rendered as humble or lowly. In the Hebrew text of Psalm 37, the word is anaveem (עֲנָוִים), usually translated as "lowly ones" (anavah is the Hebrew word for humility). This word does not suggest weakness, but rather the recognition of one's proper place in the universe before God. It is not self-effacing but rather reality-focused. The humble inherit the promised land because they are grounded in the truth of reality...

God "opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6). The LORD our God dwells with those "of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite" (Isa. 57:15). True greatness is found in outside of the self, beyond the instincts of the carnal ego. Those who seek to exalt themselves and to "gain the world" do not understand that the very reason for their life is to be sacrificed for the sake of love. Obeying God's call to love is not a burden, but rather sets the heart free. As Yeshua said, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matt. 11:28-30).

In the Jewish tradition, humility is among the greatest of the virtues, as its opposite, pride (i.e., ga'avah: גַּאֲוָה), is among the worst of the vices. God hates the proud of countenance (Prov. 6:16-17). Therefore Moses is described as the most humble of men: "Now the man Moses was very humble, above all the men that were on the face of the earth" (Num. 12:3), and likewise the great patriarch Abraham confessed to God: "Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, who am but dust and ashes (עָפָר וָאֵפֶר)" (Gen. 18:27).

"He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30). Our aim should not be personal greatness, but humility. Love personal obscurity; rejoice that you are unnoticed by the world and that you are "poor in spirit." Be happy that you are a stranger and sojourner in this world. How blessed are you when God alone is your chief concern! [Hebrew for Christians]

6.29.22 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

June 30, 2022

No More Problems

“Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name’s sake.” (Matthew 24:9)

All too often in these days of “easy believism” and the erroneous “peace and prosperity” teaching, we hear someone say, “Once you become a Christian, all your problems will be over.” It is doubtful that anyone really believes such a statement, much less experiences it. Certainly the Israelites who had just been miraculously delivered from bondage didn’t experience it.

Of course, this concept is not biblical. In fact, the Bible teaches quite the opposite. Christ promised, “Ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake” (Matthew 10:22). He, Himself, would have many problems. “If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you” (John 15:18). Later, after experiencing many problems, John wrote, “Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you” (1 John 3:13).

These problems may take the form of general troubles that come from living in a sinful, cursed world; specific afflictions, which God allows in our lives to bring about His purpose; or discipline for personal sin, as well as direct persecution from without.

While troubles will come, all is not lost! Christ promised, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Through Him we have the strength to meet every difficulty of this life with peace, good cheer, and victory. Through Him we also receive the promise that throughout eternity “there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:4). JDM

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hisredhysteria · 2 years

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"And my one true love called me a monster."

Note: I love Courier, so it kinda made me sad to write the end but.....I love Cutthroat just a little more -? This is not very well written— the concept was a spur choice, but it's a little inspired by Gretel's route in Taisho X Alice.

TW: Abusive, yandereish//possessive behavior, blood, guns, violence...also not completely proofread, and Cutthroat may be a little ooc to fit a more yandere like stereotype — (?)

Summary: I literally never know how to summarize anything I write. So basically, Cutthroat kidnapped you and keeps you in a cage. Everyday now, he brings you a new jar filled with a red substance—

Your hands had been cold to the touch, icy from the light snow that dusted the icier glass ground beneath you. Something hurt, inevitably so—it seemed like the tension would seize to be relieved. If it wasn't the very thought of him that haunted you at every ominous echo, it was the numbness that spread throughout your weakening circulation.

Ropes that bound you were coated—coated in terrible essence of an elixir handed to you. A look of delight on his innocent face, upon the jar it'd been in was a ribbon so red it outshined the contents. No way to refuse his delicate gift, you were allowed a game of pretend with every clear glass that came. Like a cat tied to it's owner, his supply of love was seemingly endless. A familiar present to behold you was everyday, tasking you to act as though the jars of cherry red syrup pleased you. Accepting them with a hesitant smile, it was all you'd manage for the moment until you dared to push them away.

His pure sanity seemed skewed, at least, enough to imprison you. That being so, despite his limitless amount of encased crimson poison, you rarely thought to open the jars that came. Much to your capturers dismay, his pale eyes still implored you to do so with all his thoughtful gifts. Nonetheless, a little bit wise with suspicion, you held back. Now—here they lay, piled a mile high at the side of your antique cage.

"C'mon..." He huffed, eyes soft at your hands. "They're only for you, my angel... please....?"

Loneliness ate away at you, even so close to him. It's not as if you never opened a jar. The man himself even noted the crusted over, deeply rose colored ropes were every indication of that. You'd been desperate enough for escape at one point, hysterically spilling the jars amongst your own aching wrists. Sliding through the binds of knotted rope was impossible however. Even if he gifted you a stick of butter to melt, your hands would never separate far. Only far enough to open the jars with a bit of adequacy.

A simple conversation could be all that caused you to cave. All except for the clothes that gave you a hint. The knife that gave you a clue. Even the smell this time was despicable.

"Maybe next time....?" You said, or one could even say asked.

At your words so quiet his eyes would wander, wander to the stack of untouched jars filled with red all placed towards the side of your bird shaped enclosure. A pout was what you earned yourself because your lie was no better than his. Soon enough a tapping noise hummed at the top of the lid as his jar was tight in your hand.

"I promise it's special this time though..." He whined, a fingernail tracing the circular decor bejeweled at the cap. He was right, it at the very least looked special, but with his words you could only fear what exactly made this one any different than the others.

"Is it...-?"

"His~?"

Your eyes grew wide as you pulled the jar further from his lingering reach. You didn't expect him to say anything of the sort, but it would only be so long until one of his jars came back with the blood of someone you knew.

"Cutthroat...? Don't tell me..." You answered back in a choked voice, tears threatening to flood your cage if the bars hadn't been so wide.

"I was looking for him everywhere... I found him though..! I thought maybe you'd like it..." He was all too cheery to add, the smile on his face hiding his devious intent.

Your eyes were glassed over, now staring back at the jar he had gifted you with. Shattered to frail pieces was your heart because you only knew who the contents of today's jar truly belonged to. It hurt worse than your bound wrists to remember when he'd taken you away and if your intuition was right, the person you were with when he had was still out there searching for you. Hugging the jar close to your chest would offer stale comfort, if only you could. But for now, all that was left close to your chest was dwindling hope.

"You're a monster...."

His innocently twisted smile began to fade and in its place was the look of confused irritation "Huh...? But he was getting in the way...if I didn't stop him soon he'd take my angel from me."

"I never belonged to you though..." You reminded him, slowly backing into the other side of your enclosure.

"Of course you did. He was the one that took you from me. Now that you're all mine though, maybe there's really no need for that jar at all....?" His finger on his chin as he gave it hard thought, Cutthroat's arm would eventually reach through the frozen metal bars you were behind. "Awwwe, don't be mean now... give it back. It was mine first, so I get to decide if my angel can have it..." Ironic as it was, the murderer asking for something back that was his first. To play with him like he had you, using his own logic against him proved satisfying.

"No, it was always mine." And to that, you wouldn't be wrong. The liquid that filled this jar belonged to you in some way, even if it wasn't your own blood, it had been your lovers.

The retort appeared to have struck him. Even if for the moment, maybe your disobedience fit into his puzzle somewhere. Cutthroat was all too ready to respond something of his own to you, however he nearly lost the chance at the thunder of jars cracking and tumbling down from the side of your cage. Red liquid coated the ground like rain as shards began to fly astray amongst the fleeting drops. The first time you missed the din that caused this chaos in your cage to ensue, but the second a shot bounced off metal bars, you knew whose weapon was behind it.

"It's no fun to kill if you keep living, you know. I take it now that you're back you want me to try again though, Courier...?" Threat would prove to be a rather gross underestimate of the tone in his darkened voice or the murderous tinge to his purple colored eyes. Because Cutthroat never partook in a cowards playground, his words were only ever allowed to mean promise. He never meant to spare the man his life the first time around, so it only meant the rematch would be easier.

Your heart mended regardless of the jar filled with Courier's blood in your hand. Careful not to become too overjoyed though as facing yet another loss would drag it back down, you were merely trapped between fresh and even coagulated bloody glass. There was nothing you could do once the startling sound of a gun firing filled the hectic air. With it followed sharp pings of his bullets ricocheting in different directions.

The battle would be cheap, unfair at best. As Courier danced and dodged the fatal knives Cutthroat swung, you'd notice that not only was metallic red leaking through his side, there was a small dark gash at the skin on his neck. You thought to plea out for help, to let them both know you wanted out of your cage, but the possibility of distracting your saviours attention is the only reason you wouldn't.

In an abhorrent attack, the white murderer had an elite upper hand. The sound of heavy metal clashing and sliding across the ground filled your ears and you could only watch with horror as Courier fell underneath your kidnapper. Your eyes would fail to wander at first, but for the moment his gun seemed too far from his reach.

"I told you I didn't like sharing. I won't let you touch my angel. Still, those jars can sparkle in even your red... I'll forgive you once you're in full bloom~" A sick cheshire grin on his lips, Cutthroat's knife dug into the skin of Courier's wounded neck. It almost begged to be sliced through and as if he had room to talk in his position, Courier would conjure up a retaliation of his own through strained breaths.

"You shit. I don't remember agreeing to sharing anything with you." Narrowed eyes, Courier's glance threw dagger's much like his counterpart could. His gun was halfway across the ground and far from his outstretched reach. Despite the known distance, his metal hand still instinctually felt around as he listened for the weapon to slide and give clue to where it'd been. His hand would never find it, though if you were fast enough it wouldn't have to.

Your eyes surveyed the area, lost in a mess of bloody snow and glass. Courier's gun was nowhere to be seen until you looked down at your own feet. In your view as you did was the glint of it's barrel. Whispering so softly, your bare feet would have to quickly muster the courage to walk across sharp glass. There was no guarantee of freedom with your choice, for the person who'd come to rescue you was already playing with death. Still, you winced with your split decision.

Carrying you to the edge of the birdcage, your feet would rip and shred from the jars of shattered glass and blood beneath every step. Finally, the gun was within your very reach. Setting down the bejeweled jar from earlier, you fumbled to use your bleeding foot. It would be Cutthroat's mistake not to have bound you by those too, but with fate a second away from your grasp, you found yourself able to get a hold of the gun as they argued back and forth. It was almost harder to grab the grip in a way to accommodate your tied hands, but with time fighting against you, you did the best your hands could allow. Aiming Courier's gun now, you were granted the option of choosing either of their lives to end or continue.

The logical option seemed to be Courier and thus your aim was bodied at Cutthroat. Your jagged breaths told you that taking the life of another was an imminent problem and right as your finger threatened to pull the trigger, Cutthroat's sudden glare up to your own eyes stopped you.

"Oh, how mean of you ....I'm killing him for us though. I wouldn't want my angel to be lonely if both of us died..." His childishly sorrowed tone implied that even shot, he'd manage to end the others life. As much as it hurt to be taken from Courier, Cutthroat's words proved just enough to let the gun slip from your weak grasp again.

#give me a valid reason to hug Cutthroat so I don't continue looking insane for sympathizing with him #UH EDIT??? HOPES SHATTERED NVM IT MIGHT BE A SCENE FROM HIM MANIPULATING SWINDLER TO COME OUT INSTEAD??#okay if you see the edit its because STUPID ME thought that maybe the panel teased was a past scene somehow #it's probably just them drawing Cutthroat childlike-

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