#but to keep me anchored and to remind me of the positive things; to make sure my head stays in the right place and to make me a better me

[naga-raja-suresh]

He watched Mathias withdraw his hand and his own didn’t chase it, but it twitched, almost imperceptibly. Like instinct reaching across a line that strategy dared not cross. A ripple. Desire stirred. Not with the familiar pulse of hunger, but something slower. Knowing. Something dangerous. Because what Suresh felt wasn’t just tenderness. It was opportunity. And that was far more seductive than lust.

“Better if you didn’t feel human at all…” Suresh repeated the words softly, voice like smoke and incense curling through the air. “Is that what you believe? That the pain is the problem? That you are the source of their sorrow?” His golden gaze didn’t waver. He could feel the weight of Mathias’s fear... to lose, to lead poorly, to be left behind. All so painfully human. And beautifully exploitable. And yet... he didn’t want to exploit it. Not truly. Not just for that. He wanted to protect it. And wasn’t that the same thing, in the end?

“I’ve seen what it looks like when a god becomes untethered from love. When power becomes the only mirror. They don’t weep like you. They don’t ache. They forget.” His voice didn’t rise. But the resonance of something ancient coiled under every syllable. “You may think this is a weakness,” Suresh said, leaning forward, “but I have lived through eras shaped by the divine and those who ruled without love… left nothing but ruin.” He let that settle. Let the weight of history fill the pause between them.

“You wonder if things would be better if you didn't feel human at all... And I,” Suresh murmured, “wonder if it would be the death of everything good in you.” But even as he said it. Even as he meant it. The serpent coiled tighter. Mathias was going to make a move. Against Corvinus. Against the Nameless. And Suresh couldn’t afford to ignore that. Desire knew it. This connection, this trust, this bond built on pain and soft words and the ache of not wanting to be alone could become a lever. A powerful one. Suresh could guide it. Nurture it. Use it to temper Mathias’s rage. Or to sharpen it. Depending on what was required. And if the Lotus Eaters were to survive the chaos that was coming… he would need both hands on the scale.

Still, his voice remained gentle. “You carry their hopes like they’re your penance. But that’s not what they want from you. They want to walk beside you. Not beneath the weight you wear like armor.” This was the true terror of Suresh. What he knew to be truth, tasted in the air and in longing. “You fear being alone at the end,” he said. “But if that day comes, Mathias… you won’t be.”

That wasn’t sentiment. It was positioning. It was a truth made strategic. Because if Suresh could keep Mathias anchored, to his humanity, to him. Then he could soften the blow of what was coming next. Keep him from turning the full fury of the god-in-the-making on the Nameless or the Lightless before the timing was right. And if it worked… if it worked, he might yet maneuver them all through the storm alive. He reached out again. Not to touch, but to gesture gently, reverently, as if brushing aside a veil. “Let them love you while you still feel human. And when you forget what that means...” he paused, eyes locking with Mathias’s, “... let me remind you.”

Because Suresh would remember. Not just for Mathias’s sake. But for his own survival. For the survival of the Lotus Eaters. For the game that now played out on divine territory with no map, and no mercy. He needed Mathias alive. Anchored. Powerful, yes. But not uncontrollable. And yet... beneath the strategy, buried under all that threading of the needles and twisting of webs.... Of playing truly long games... he meant it too. That was what made it and Suresh so dangerous.

He sat back slowly. Composed. But the weight of what he carried rippled through every inch of him. “You don’t have to wait for ‘someday,’” he repeated, voice quieter now. “They already see you.” And Desire stirred again. Not as a god this time. But as want itself. Watching Suresh risk every bond he had... even this one. For the sake of winning the war to come.

Mathias could never and would never pretend that he knew what he was doing. He put on a brave face and faced everything life was throwing at him for the sake of others, but it didn't mean he had it all covered. He tried his best and he told himself that his best would be enough. If he just kept trying then it would work out in the end.

Yes, not letting love change him was an option. Mathias could easily throw it all away and prevent any pain from happening. It was something he was told early on. Gods loved, but not like humans did. They didn't feel connections to the mortal lives they touched. Those lives were just a blink of time in the existence of the divine. Mathias just couldn't see himself doing that. He was human first (maybe) and he would love the way he was taught.

Mathias could never have both worlds. He could never prevent the death of those he loved. Even if he sacrificed the rest of the world for it, one day Death would come for them. He was afraid of the loneliness that would follow. Would he have to walk the earth for eternity all alone? Would he find their presence in shadows and memories as time stretched on and on? Would he know of their future lineages, would he tell them of their ancestors? Of his love for them.

He listened to Suresh, wondering how two beings who had been showered in a god's power could have this much pain in them. "Sometimes I feel envious of you. Sometimes I wonder if things would have been better if I didn't feel human at all. I've cause my people a lot of pain because I'm trying so hard to be human. They don't deserve that".

He removed his hand, but could still feel the spark of energy and magic between the both of them. Desire and Life went hand in hand. Without life, desire couldn't be had. And without desire, no one would want to live. And perhaps this was why Mathias felt close to Suresh. They fed each other in different ways. "Let them love me? I think they'd be happy to hear you telling me that. Maybe I will...Maybe I'll give them that until I can't".

[pagesfromthevoid]

Ya'aburnee | r. r. | 2

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Avenger!witch!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Void makes an appearance, probably terrible witch advice, self-deprecating commentary

Author's Note: Woops. @domoron here's the follow up for ya

Part 1 | Talk to Me! | AO3

Bob doesn’t take to witchcraft very easily. Not because he’s not trying, but because he’s trying too hard. 

They’ve been prepping for two weeks. She knows there’s a handful of things she needs, and she gives him a few places to begin his research journey. But he’s just…trying too hard. She tries to explain that practices are fluid. There’s no strict way to practice, as long as you’re aware of where your practice comes from and aren’t using closed practices. But he thinks he has to practice every single day, and that overwhelms him.

She buys him a book on city witchcraft, and thanks her for it with an awkward smile and a promise to repay her somehow. Insisting he doesn’t, she instead presses a soft kiss to his cheek and promises that she just wants to help him. He blushes, and looks away, but it doesn’t last long until he’s looking at her again with a shy smile.

The team hasn’t commented on how close the two have suddenly become, but she can feel their stares. When he sits shoulder to shoulder with her. When he holds her hand out of nowhere. They watch, and they question. But they’ve yet to question her, and she’s almost hopeful they won’t.

“Bob,” she reminds him gently, taking his hand as they sit in front of the window. This is where they’ve set up a makeshift altar, with what pieces she has remaining from her old life before the Blip. An offering bowl to Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft. A handful of crystals and some candles. It’s nothing fancy, and she promises Bob that it’s okay. “I haven’t properly practiced in years. But I am still in touch with my magic, and with my roots. You don’t need to be perfect; you just need to feel it and be intentional.”

He squeezes her hand and nods, looking over the altar for a moment. Then he takes a breath, closing his eyes. She watches him, feeling how his powers are thrumming in his fingertips. While he tries to keep both Sentry and Void at bay, both linger under his skin; radiate off him in a way that she can feel by just touching him. Her magic can’t fix that; there’s nothing to fix. But she can help him feel more control over them. 

“Shielding begins with grounding,” she explains, sitting criss-crossed in front of him now. Bob mirrors her position, though he’s a bit too tense in the shoulders. “And grounding is…kind of like meditating, in a way. It’s better outside, but that’s not always possible and that’s okay. Situate yourself to be comfortable.”

He adjusts a few times, uncrossing his legs and recrossing them, before he settles on one leg against his chest and the other outstretched before him. Then he leans against his leg, wrapping his arms around it like it’s an anchor. She gives him a moment, allows him to settle into himself, then continues. 

“We’re going to close our eyes, okay?” She explains, and he follows directions immediately. Her eyes remain open, hovering over him. “I want you to focus your energy. All of it –Sentry, Void, Bob. All the parts that make up you, I want you to try to push it into your feet.”

“My…my feet?” He asks, peeking at her through one eye. “Why my feet?”

“Because you’re releasing that energy –all that pent up, extra pressure –back into the earth.”

“What if…what if I hurt you?”

She pauses, then reaches over, taking his hands. “I trust you, Bob. You won’t hurt me. You won’t hurt anyone.”

Though, she’s prepared for the worst. It’s always been easier to assume the worst will happen and be relieved when it doesn’t than to expect the best and the consequences be bad. But she doesn’t tell Bob that; she doesn’t want to scare him or worry him. 

But he nods, and he closes his eyes again. For a few minutes, everything is fine. Bob is focusing, and she’s watching him closely as he breathes in and out. There’s a bit of trembling to him, but nothing that she’s concerned about. He’s always a bit restless when he’s around her, and she doesn’t think much of it.

The energy in the room suddenly shifts though –she can feel it in her bones, creeping under her skin. Even as her magic manifests around them, the shadows are matching the emerald tendrils in effort. Shifting some, she looks around them, watching as the room darkens; consumes them until the only thing that’s illuminated is the magic shielding them from the shadows. 

“Bob,” she warns, voice soft but urgent. 

But when she reaches out to touch him, the hand that grabs her wrist is black as pitch, and stronger than expected. 

“Why would you try to help him?” He asks, and the eyes that stare her down are shifting, bright spots in darkness. His voice –it’s Bob, but distorted. Low. Predatory. “He can’t hide from me. I am him.”

“You are a part of him,” she corrects, and the tendrils of magic are prying his shadowed hands off of her. “But you are not him. Just like he is not you.”

There’s a growl from him as her magic wraps around both his wrists and holds him back. She knows it won’t hold him back for very long, but it will buy her time as she stands up. Her fingers flex as magic manifests further around her –that soft green darkening as she prepares.

“I am not like your snakes,” he hisses, pulling against the bindings. “I cannot be pushed away or grounded or shielded from. I am him.”

“You say that,” she says, taking a step around him. He shifts and watches her. “But I think, just like him, you’re scared.”

She feels him yanking against the bindings, and the tendrils are snapping and reforming over and over again. There’s no saying how much longer she can hold him. 

“You think I fear you?” He laughs, and it’s like metal scraping against metal. “The little witch that couldn’t even save her friend from destroying herself? Who didn’t even bother checking on her friend?”

Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as she steps forward, kneeling in front of him. It doesn’t surprise her that he knows about how she failed Wanda; how she didn’t check on her, or seek her out after everything that happened. Consumed by her own grief, by her missing five years, by her sudden loss of the people she loved. Life has not been easy on her; but that isn’t a good excuse. 

Every day, she feels that guilt. And every day, she tries to be better. 

“What happens when you decide he’s too much?” He demands, the bindings snapping one by one. “When you can’t handle what we are and run?”

“I won’t run from him,” she snaps at him. Her hand shoots out and grabs him by the jaw, magic flaring up around his face. The shadows start to retreat, and he tries to pull back. “I will not run from you either. I will protect him, though. And I will help him fight you every step of the way.”

“He’s a lost cause,” he hisses again, but the shadows are slinking away, slowly revealing Bob’s tear streaked face. 

The room slowly but surely lightens again, the shadows being pushed away by her magic consuming them. When they’ve all disappeared, and the tendrils of her magic are slinking back to her, she drops to her knees in front of him. Bob falls forward, half from exhaustion and half because he’s clutching her tight as he starts to sob in her arms. 

She holds him like that for a long time, apologizing over and over again. For pushing him, for not stopping before the Void crept through. While she expected the worst, she didn’t expect how hard it would be on either of them. 

“What the hell is going on up here?” Yelena yells, storming in from the stairwell. 

Bob is shaking in her arms as she looks up, and she realizes two things. One, her magic is wrapped around them like a bubble –protecting them. And two, the power in the tower is out. 

“Oh, uh,” she stammers out, and she clears her throat because it’s hoarse and shaking. “We…had a little mishap. But it’s okay now.”

“Okay?” Bucky practically yells, and Bob flinches in her arms. “You’re glowing and Bob is sobbing. None of this says, ‘Hey we’re all good.’”

“I was teaching him how to ground himself and shield himself,” she explains as Bob’s breathing evens out slowly. “I didn’t think –,”

Tugging away from her, Bob tries to sit up and wipe his face. The tendrils of magic are wrapping around him again, surrounding him in a way that she recognizes –in a comforting way, like how it felt when she was younger. Yelena is offering a hand to him but he’s ignoring her, slowly pushing himself off the floor. She sits helplessly, watching as he waves away everyone’s attempts at helping him, mumbling about being alone. 

“Bob –,” she tries to say, but it comes out cracked. “I’m sorry –really.”

But he doesn’t respond, and she watches as he retreats to his room, emerald streaks trying to follow but breaking away when he’s too far. 

Now, she’s left alone with the rest of the team, who look disappointed in her. 

And, somehow, that’s so much worse than their anger. 

*****

For the next month, Bob avoids her. 

Not that she does anything to seek him out, though. 

She spends most of her time in her room now, only coming out when she hears him return to his. There’s an anxiety that laces her heart now, a fear that she’s more harm for him than good. It feels like when she was younger, when she was still learning. Like she’s uncontrolled and waiting to be reprimanded for causing things to break around the house. 

But instead, she’s breaking someone she cares about.

Even her magic is lethargic –it manifests slower, paler. Like it feels the same guilt and doesn’t know what to do with itself. She thinks that her grandmother would be disappointed if she was alive. Knows the old bat would tell her she’s being childish, and to go talk to Bob. But her grandmother isn’t here.

Instead, she gets Bucky Barnes.

Who is the most annoying person she knows –and she knows Walker now.

The team is in the shared common space, watching some movie. Bob is squished between Yelena and Alexei, but he’s clearly not paying attention. But every time she looks over, he’s looking away from her.

“How’s he doing?” She asks, standing at the island in the kitchen. 

Bucky is leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. “Ask him yourself.”

“I fucking hate you,” she complains, resting her face in her arms on the counter. 

“I’m not going to play mediator between you two,” he continues, though he’s still not looking up at her. “You made a mistake. So did he. Both of you need to own up to it and move on.”

“What mistake did he make?” She asks, peering up at him with narrowed eyes. There’s a moment of silence, and she glares at him now. “He didn’t make a mistake. I did.”

“He knew better,” Bucky counters, finally looking at her. He sets his phone down and crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s an adult –a slightly unstable adult, but an adult nonetheless. He knows his limits, and he knows what he can and cannot handle. We’ve been working with him since before you came along.”

“But –,”

“No,” Bucky snaps at her, and she knows he’s getting frustrated with her. His voice is getting louder, which usually only happens when he’s worked up. “Maybe he thought he could handle whatever witchy shit you were doing –but he should have been more cautious. Just like you should have had better safety measures in place before you tried to get him to control his other sides. There are tell-tale signs –we could have warned you. Told you what to look for. If you had told us you were going to do this.”

He cuts himself off, and shakes his head finally. “Just…shit, Hex. He misses you, okay? Just talk to the guy.”

She stands up straight, looking over at the living space again. Bob’s looking at them, and he doesn’t immediately look away this time. Glancing between him and Bucky, she sighs in an exaggerated way then nods towards the hallway. Bob hesitates, glancing between everyone in the room, then stands. Yelena asks something and looks over her shoulder, eyeing her with a warning glare. She just gives a half wave and disappears down the hall, Bob on her heels.

She opens her bedroom door, motioning for him to go in. There’s still hesitation on his part, like he’s afraid of her. And it makes her heart ache as she nods and shuts the door again. Then she leans against it, looking down and putting her hands in her front pockets. Awkward, unsure of what to say or do.

For once, it’s Bob who is the one who speaks up first.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, and her gaze shoots up to stare at him like he’s insane. “I shouldn’t have asked you to help me. I just –I wanted to –,”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupts, and he looks away for a moment. “I wanted to help; I was going to offer it regardless of if you asked –I just…I didn’t think that…he would be so powerful. I…I overestimated how strong I am in comparison to you –,”

He’s interrupting her now, stepping towards her with pleading eyes. “No, you can’t say that –I’m not strong. Not like Sentry or…or Void. You’re so much stronger than I am, and I just…I wanted to be closer to you,” he finally admits and she’s staring up at him with brows furrowed and flushed cheeks. “And instead of admitting that I wasn’t ready for any of what you were showing me, I just…nodded along because you were so happy to show me, and I liked seeing you smile –god, you get so happy when you talk about your magic and your grandma, and I just really wanted to keep seeing you smile. But then…I just…I ruined it, like I always do –,”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she insists, taking his hands in hers. “I should have noticed you were struggling. But…you’re right. I was excited to show you how to do it, because you were so interested and were trying so hard to understand. I wanted to be close to you too, Bob. But I didn’t consider the full consequences of releasing all that energy you have.”

They stand there for a few minutes, holding hands as they watch each other’s reactions. There’s a soft smile on both their faces, and she’s thinking that she should kiss him before she’s not brave enough to do it. 

Before either of them can process it, there’s a whisper of warmth at their ankles  –emerald tendrils are wrapping around their legs, then tightening –and they’re pulled together. He lets out a laugh, his hands finding her waist as hers rest on his chest.

“Did you do that?” he asks, looking down at her. 

“I…did not,” she admits as the magic swirls around them then disappears. “I told you…it has a mind of its own sometimes. But since we’re standing here…,”

Standing on her toes, she reaches up and pulls him down to kiss him. He takes her face in his hands, pulling her closer to him as he returns the kiss full force. There’s a flash of green –lighting up the hallway –as her magic surrounds them again –and this time it is her doing. When they pull away, resting their foreheads against each other, she smiles up at him softly. His eyes –usually so blue –reflect the green in her eyes from her powers. Like he’s taken part of her with him when they’ve pulled away, mixing into a teal color that could rival oceans.

“I love the way my eyes make yours look green too,” she teases, and Bob chuckles lightly, kissing her again.

_______

Bob Taglist: @ilovemarvel12 @k1ttyjuice @magikdarkholme @yesshewrites1 @evanbabybear @jaes-last-words @keira-kaz2y5

[lilmarshie]

Oneshot when you're in shock and Bucky Barnes finds you

Save Me, Mr. Barnes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Mentions of PTSD, shock responses, and traumatic experiences and the aftermath of traumatic events. ‼️‼️

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! I hope that you all enjoy this little drabble. I might continue this and make this into a series if I get enough positive feedback on this little drabble.

Your world seems to crash out around you when you try and process what had just happened. There had been a major explosion at the headquarters where you were stationed at. It was a sudden and very unpredictable tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life forever. It’s left you reeling, your mind racing with the thoughts of what could’ve happened. Your senses are placed on overdrive, yet everything feels distant and almost alien like. You find yourself frozen in place, unable to move or speak, as the weight of the moment presses down on you.

When Bucky finds you, his heart sinks painfully deep inside of his chest. He approached you slowly, his movements gentle and reassuring when he finds you. He kneels down beside you, his eyes filled with concern as he reaches out to take your hand. His touch is warm and grounding, a familiar anchor in the sea of chaos swirling around you. He doesn't try to force you to talk or explain, understanding that sometimes silence is the only language that makes sense especially in scenarios like this.

Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. He holds you tightly, letting you know that you're not alone and that he's there for you, no matter what. His presence is a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, a reminder that you're safe and loved. As you lean into his embrace, you begin to feel the first tendrils of calm washing over you, the storm inside slowly beginning to subside. In his arms, you find solace and the strength to face whatever lies ahead, knowing that you have him by your side.

You're in shock, the world around you muted and distant. It's like watching a movie where you're both the actor and the audience, detached from the unfolding events. Your mind struggles to process the reality of the situation, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected from the world around you. “I can’t do this! Please don’t make me do this! Please, Bucky! Please!” Your voice is shattered and raw, as you plead to have this pain taken away from you. Bucky is your anchor that keeps you grounded to him and him alone.

Bucky guides you to a quiet, secluded space where you can feel safe and protected. Your apartment that you share with him. Your solace and space from this mental hell. He creates an environment of calm and tranquility, dimming the lights, lighting candles, and playing soft music. He wants to create a haven where you can let go of your shock and begin to heal in your most vulnerable moments.

Bucky stays by your side, offering silent support and unwavering presence. He doesn't try to fill the silence with empty words or platitudes, knowing that sometimes the most comforting thing is simply being there. He sits with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair, or simply offering a shoulder to lean on. His presence is a constant reminder that you're not alone and that he's there for you, no matter what.

As the days pass, Bucky gently encourages you to talk about what happened, but only when you're ready. He listens patiently, without judgment, offering words of comfort and understanding. He reminds you of your strength, your resilience, and your ability to overcome challenges. He helps you to process your emotions, to grieve, and to find a path forward.

Together, you and Bucky navigate the long and winding road to healing. You lean on each other for support, sharing your fears, your hopes, and your dreams. You find strength in your love, your bond deepening as you face adversity together. With Bucky by your side, you slowly begin to emerge from the darkness, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #16 journal journal journal : all u need guide

By : a journaling addict girlie

Journaling is a tool for self-discovery mindfulness and creativity too But while many of us start with enthusiasm turning journaling into a consistent habit can feel like a battle or smthng cuz life gets busy u lose motivation and before you know it your journal is gathering dust

so !

This guide will help you build a sustainable journaling practice. Whether you’re a beginner or someone looking to rekindle the habit these practical tips will make journaling an effortless part of your daily routine.

how I found out abt journaling(storytime box)

[I used to feel like my world was tiny, trapped in a cycle of bullying and loneliness and a loot of stuff My social zone was practically nonexistent I had 2 friends but I didn't trusted them enough and the people around me just made things harder so I had a trust issue and I was constantly overthinking eveeeeerything. My mind was a mess, and I had no way to let it out (I can't tell my parents back then abt my problems) . One day, I came across a video about journaling. I saw someone pouring out their thoughts into a notebook (it was bestmess ig on YouTube ) and something clicked for me. Maybe this could be my way to escape all the noise in my head ??? So, I grabbed an old notebook and started writing.At first, it felt awkward—just random, messy thoughts. But as I kept going, I realized it helped. Writing became my safe space. I could say whatever I wanted, no judgment. It wasn’t just about venting; it helped me understand myself, organize my thoughts, and let go of some of the pain from the isolation.Over time, journaling turned into something much deeper. It became a way to reflect, dream, and grow. It taught me how to be kind to myself when no one else was, and helped me find clarity in the chaos. Journaling saved me it turned my mess into peace one page at a time then when the years roll I created a routine for it !]

Why Journaling Matters

☆ Journaling offers countless benefits:

-Reducing stress

-Boosting creativity

-Deepening self-awareness

☆ Yet, staying consistent can be a challenge. The key lies in making journaling enjoyable and rewarding. Here's how you can do just that.

The Science of Habit Formation

To build any habit, including journaling, you need three elements:

1. Cue: A trigger that reminds you to journal.

2. Routine: The act of journaling itself.

3. Reward: The positive feeling or benefit you experience afterward.

The secret is to keep the process simple and satisfying too

Steps to Turn Journaling into a Daily Habit

1. Start Small

Begin with just a sentence or two for example:

“Today, I felt grateful for…”

“The best part of my day was…”

—Starting small makes it less overwhelming and easier to stick with.

2. Anchor It to an Existing Habit

—Pair journaling with something you already do, like drinking coffee or winding down before bed. This "habit stacking" technique helps u remember to journal.

3. Set a Timer

Worried about time? Commit to just 5 minutes. Knowing there’s a limit makes starting feel less daunting.

4. Use Prompts

Struggling with what to write? Use prompts like:

“What made me smile today?”

“What’s a challenge I faced, and how did I handle it?”

—Prompts give your thoughts direction and beat blank-page syndrome. There's million of prompts idea on Pinterest u need just to take action

5. Celebrate Your Progress

Track your streaks or mark your journaling days on a calendar. Seeing your consistency builds motivation.

6. Create a Cozy Space ( not important )

Set up a comfortable spot for journaling—a comfy chair, your favorite pen, or soothing music. A cozy environment turns journaling into a ritual you look forward to.

7. Experiment with Formats

If traditional journaling feels stale, try something new:

☆ Bullet points

☆ Sketches

☆ Gratitude lists

☆ Digital journaling apps

Creative Ways to Journal

☆ Gratitude Journaling: Write down 3 things you’re grateful for each day.

☆ Habit Tracking: Combine journaling with habit tracking to monitor small goals.

☆ Morning Pages: Inspired by Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, write 3 pages of free-flowing thoughts first thing in the morning.

☆ Reflection Logs: Reflect weekly or monthly on what went well, what you learned, and what you’d like to improve.

Overcoming Common Obstacles

1. “I Don’t Have Time.”

Journaling doesn’t need to take hours. Even a single sentence is progress.

2. “I Don’t Know What to Write.”

Start with prompts or simply answer: “What’s on my mind right now?”

3. “I Keep Forgetting.”

Set phone reminders or pair journaling with a daily habit.

4. “It Doesn’t Feel Useful.”

Journaling isn’t about perfection it’s a tool for you Over time you’ll notice its positive effects.

Journaling as a Tool for Self-Growth

— Journaling isn’t just about recording events or thoughts—it’s also a way to grow mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. Here’s how you can take your journaling practice to the next level:

1. Use Journaling for Goal Setting

Journaling can help you identify and track your goals. Write down your short- and long-term objectives, and use your journal to reflect on progress, challenges, and adjustments.

Example:

☆ Weekly Goals: Write down 3 specific goals every Monday and reflect on them at the end of the week.

☆ Vision Journaling: Imagine your ideal future and describe it in vivid detail.

2. Practice Emotional Awareness

☆ Journaling is a powerful way to process emotions. Try these techniques:

☆ Emotion Check-Ins: At the end of the day, write about how you felt and why.

☆ Reframing Challenges: If something negative happened, write about it from a different perspective.

3. Develop Gratitude and Mindfulness

☆ Use your journal to cultivate mindfulness by focusing on the present moment:

☆ Mindful Observations: Write about your surroundings, the weather, or how your body feels.

☆ Gratitude Expansion: Instead of listing things you’re grateful for, write a short paragraph about why each one matters.

4. Uncover Patterns and Insights

Over time, your journal becomes a mirror of your habits, thoughts, and emotions. Regularly revisit old entries to:

- Identify recurring themes.

- Discover how you’ve grown or changed.

- Spot areas where you might need more balance or self-care.

FAQs

Q: How long does it take to build a journaling habit?

A: Experts say it takes 21–66 days. Consistency is key, even if it’s just a few minutes daily.

Q: Should I write by hand or use a digital tool?

A: Both work! Handwriting feels personal, while digital tools offer organization. ( In my opinion handwriting one are better !)

Q: What if my journaling feels repetitive?

A: Life has routines, and so will your journal. Use prompts or try new styles to keep it fresh.

Q: Can I journal if I’m not a good writer?

A: Absolutely! Journaling is about self-expression, not perfect prose. Bullet points or doodles work too.

Journaling is a gift you give yourself—a way to check in, reflect, and grow. Whether you’re jotting down a single sentence or filling pages, the act of journaling is what matters most.

@bloomzone 📇

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: what’s grounding you and what’s growing?

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what kind of easter eggs is the universe leaving for you?

return to the masterlist of pap/pac posts

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

pile 1

ground: you may be finding yourself grounded in a process of emotional transformation. what’s keeping you rooted may be a need to leave behind something that once provided comfort or security but has since become stagnant/unsatisfying. you may have a desire to pursue a more authentic path, whether that’s within relationships, career, and/or spiritual growth. you may be finding stability by embracing change and allowing yourself to release the old to make space for something more fulfilling.

growth: something new is beginning to take shape, whether it’s a spark of inspiration, a fresh project, and/or an adventurous new phase in life. embrace this growing energy with excitement and optimism. there may be a sense of eagerness to explore and express themselves in new ways, and the cards suggest that you are in the early stages of something that could lead to great personal development.

pile 2

ground: you are anchored in a sense of faith and trust, either in yourself or in the universe. it could also indicate that you are in a phase of emotional or spiritual recovery, allowing you to heal from past wounds. what grounds them now is a deeper sense of purpose or hope, which helps you stay centered and calm. there is a quiet, internal knowing / intuition that provides stability, reminding you that your higher self or divine guidance is always with you, helping you to stay aligned.

growth: you are on the verge of a breakthrough or are about to embark on a more determined/focused journey. what’s growing in your life is the drive and momentum to move forward with purpose. whether it’s your personal goals, a new project, or a journey of self-discovery, you are gaining the courage and strength to overcome any challenges ahead. what’s growing is the ability to focus your energy and make progress toward your ambitions, no matter the obstacles.

pile 3

ground: you may be grounding yourself by opening up to new experiences and perspectives. you are moving away from a place of emotional apathy or discontent and beginning to engage more fully with life. the grounding energy is a renewed interest in the present moment, seeing things with fresh eyes, and accepting new emotional/spiritual offerings. you may be overcoming a period of emotional withdrawal or resistance to change, which is allowing you to embrace what’s now available to you - new emotional growth and opportunities for connection.

growth: the ability to gradual overcome your fears and anxieties. you may be starting to find peace after a period of intense mental turmoil. it’s a positive sign that you’re moving away from the grip of worry and embracing a more peaceful state of mind. what’s growing is a healthier, more balanced mindset, and you are beginning to take control of your thoughts rather than allowing them to control you.

[an0nwr1tes]

Galtean Klance you have my heart-

Thinking about Galra Keith who’s slowly becoming more and more Galra and developing weird habits that he just isn’t sure how to deal with and Lance who’s reeling from the fact that he’s now Altean and having no idea what that means or how to deal with it so he set all his attention on Keith.

Lance who’s helping Keith deal with all the weirdness of being half Galra by hesitantly going along with everything Keith needs, because the last he screamed when Keith dropped a freshly killed animal in his lap Keith just looked so sad, and ignoring Allura and Coran as they try showing Lance more about Altean’s.

Lance and Keith’s alien discovery’s and experiences being both so similar and so so different, Lance who’s more or less been forced into this position because he died and Allura healed him and brought him back but not quite right and Keith who finally knows who he is and that he’s not weird or different he’s just Keith.

Keith’s parents loved each other, they loved him and he’s proof of that.

Lance’s death was real and he’s constantly forced to remember that when he looks in the mirror.

Lance who loves Keith and tells him that everyday, Lance who forces Keith to sit in his huge Galra form so he can brush through his fur and make it all shiny.

Keith who loves Lance and presses kisses to each mark under his eyes because he knows how hard it is for Lance to look at them sometimes, Keith who whispers “You’re beautiful,” every morning when they get up and every night before they fall asleep.

Lance who can’t stand too look at himself anymore, who freezes when he catches sight of his white hair and blue marks and has to remind himself that that him.

Keith who finally feels right when he catches sight of his reflection, the mark on his face and the fur and ears in his Galra form and wonders how he ever thought that he was anything but this.

Lance who loves Keith in any form, Keith who loves Lance in any form.

Keith who couldn’t stand his Galra form in the beginning, Lance who approached Coran and Allura for help because he wanted to show Keith that he was perfect as he was.

Keith who goes stiff at the sight of a strangely familiar Galra in the hanger when he gets back from a blade mission, Lance who smiling hesitantly and explains what he’s been doing and Keith is falling in love all over again.

Suddenly the Voltron team is forced to get used to two big Glara’s cuddling on the sofa, Allura attacked them once before they turned back in a panic.

Lance who doesn’t know how to make himself only half Galra so he end up taller than Keith.

Keith who’s all for picking up his large boyfriend and carrying him around, because that’s his boyfriend.

Lance who starts giving Keith little trinkets to keep on him and pretty little hair ties to braid his fur with.

Keith who starts cooking the hunts he brings back with them because Lance doesn’t like his things getting bloody.

Lance who’s doing so well and then he’s in the bathroom and freezes at the sight of himself.

Keith who’s doing so well and then he’s sees someone flinch at the sight of him.

Lance who promises Keith’s that it’s ok and holds his cheeks in his hands and kisses his eyelids, who stays in his Altean form so Keith can wrap himself around him and they can cuddle.

“You’re so precious, how could anyone be scared of you and your cute button nose and your fluffy paws!”

Keith who presses Lance to his chest and counts the beats of his heart with him, who runs his hands down Lance’s side and mutters.

“Can you feel that? See, you’re here with me Lance, you’re alive.”

Just Galtean Klance being each others anchors.

[strawberrybunnystuff]

𝘼𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 ¹⁸+

⋆୨୧˚ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 ⋆୨୧˚

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭.

𝙩𝙬: 𝙁𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣; 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝘿𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣; 𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣; 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝘿𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣; 𝙁𝙚𝙢 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙘;

Your eyes open—a flash of white mist—and then slam shut as the pain in your head explodes, throbbing like a second heartbeat inside your skull. You try to move your hands, but your wrists are glued to the edges of the wooden table, encased in padded handcuffs ("so as not to hurt you too much... he would say"). Your ankles follow the same fate, narrow chains of cold metal scraping against your skin, keeping your legs spread obscenely wide. Your torso is completely flat on the table's surface, arched forward in a position that's not just uncomfortable—it's deliberately exhibitionistic, like a butterfly trapped on a plate ready for dissection.

It's then that you hear it.

"I give you everything. I take care of you. And then you try to leave me?"

You recognize the voice before you even see him—that tone that used to shower you with praise when you completed your tasks well. But today, the words cut like a scalpel. Because he knows. You tried to escape this place, tried to escape him, and now...

Easterman's footsteps echo around you, slow, calculated, like a surgeon circling his operating table. Each click of his leather shoes on the floor seems to mark a second closer to the inevitable.

When he finally enters your field of vision, even in the dim light, you can make out the imposing silhouette of that man—the perfect suit, the straight collar, the latex-encased hands that have done things your brain refuses to remember. Each step makes your body tremble, but it's when the sounds cease that your blood runs cold.

He's disappeared.

Darkness swallows everything, and you stand there, trapped and blind, your only anchor the thick scent of ether mixed with antiseptic soap he carries with him. Your heart races, your wrists twist against the handcuffs, and then—his hands.

They appear out of nowhere, icy even through the gloves, gripping your waist with a possession that isn't just physical—it is possession. His fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, measuring, assessing, as if you were a specimen he's about to dissect. When he finally speaks, the whisper is warm, contrasting with his cool touch.

"Did you really think I'd let you go?"

His voice is soft, almost sweet, but you sense the fury that emerges behind it—the same fury that makes a doctor dismantle a body piece by piece just to understand it.

You feel Easterman's weight leaning over you, his torso pressing your back against the cold table, crushing any remaining space for escape. The heat of his body—so unnaturally human compared to the coldness of his words—makes your skin shiver. He whispers,

"I always knew you were special. Different from the others."—a pause, his lips almost touching your ear. "But you failed."

And there's something worse than anger in that voice: disappointment. The same disappointment a mentor feels with his favorite student, a surgeon feels with an organ that didn't react as it should. His words sink deeper into you than any needle could, and for a moment, you feel—God, how you feel—a pang of genuine sadness. Not from the pain of the handcuffs, but from having disappointed him.

He feels your tremble, of course. And he laughs softly, a sound that vibrates against your ribs.

"Look at that..." he murmurs, one hand sliding from your waist to your neck, not to strangle you, but to feel your racing pulse. "Even your body knows I'm right."

You swallow hard, your throat tightening against the latex glove around your neck. Not hard enough to suffocate—just a reminder: if he wanted to kill you, no one would hear your last breath. No one would know your name. He could erase your existence as one of the failed experiments in Murkoff's ledger...but that's not what he wants. Not today.

He wants to break you. He wants to hear you beg for him. He wants every fiber of your body to tremble in the exact rhythm he dictates. As your mind lurches between panic and resignation, the weight of your torso recedes, leaving your body strangely cold where his heat had been oppressive. But before you can even think about easing the tension in your muscles—his hand slips away.

Cold gloves slide down your stomach, calculating, deliberately slow, until they find your belt. Your fingers work the buckle with the precision of a surgeon unwrapping his instruments. Each click of the metal seems to echo in the empty room. You stop breathing.

"I'm not mad that you tried to run away."

His voice is soft, almost conversational, as his gloved fingers continue to work your belt with obscene efficiency. The metal clicks, the buckle gives way, and you feel the leather slide across your hips like a dead snake. He doesn't stop.

"I'm furious because you cheated on me." His hand brushes your stomach through your shirt, fleetingly, but it's enough to make your skin burn with shame and something else. "You cheated on yourself."

He pauses, letting the weight of those words sink into you deeper than any blade. When he continues, it's with the calm of a judge pronouncing a sentence:

-"You made a choice when you tried to run away." - His belt is open now, hanging like a loose rope. - "And your own choice brought you here."

You swallow hard. He's not thinking. You knew the risks when you decided to escape with the other reagents. You knew the statistics, the locked doors, the guarded corridors. Even so, you were capable. And you failed. And now, here you are, with his icy fingers sliding inside your pants, making your body shiver against your will. A hot sigh escapes your lips—and he notices, he always notices.

Your muscles tense as his fingers travel a dangerous path, exploring, until they find what they were looking for: the intimate moisture you can't hide. Your body shivers when he touches there, the movement so slow, circling as if studying a chemical reaction.

"Say it," he orders, his voice low and relentless, his lower lip bleeding under the pressure of his own teeth. "Why are you trying so hard to leave this place? For some supposed...freedom?"

The word sounds hollow in his mouth. He increases the pressure of his fingers, not as punishment but as emphasis.

"You are already free here," he murmurs, his warm breath on your neck a comical contrast to his cool fingers. "Free to be exactly what I planned for you to be."

Your wrists are still bound, but your desperate hands grip the edges of the table, fingers scratching the wood like claws, leaving pale marks on the polished surface. Your body betrays you—it arches, shudders, responding with an urgency that makes the rational part of your mind scream with shame. Your eyes close for an involuntary moment, and he realizes. It's all he needs. Stimulation.

His fingers—already drenched in your own desire—accelerate their pace, circling mercilessly over your most sensitive, most exposed spot, until you gasp in a moan that sounds profane even to your own ears. You never imagined yourself capable of such a... desperate sound.

And then, he appears. His face appears next to yours, so close that you feel the heat of his skin—your own hot breath reflecting back at you. He's still impeccable, still serious, still in control, evident only by the smile that now curves his lips. Not a gentle smile, not a smile of pleasure - but something too dark, too calculating, as if watching a chemical reaction about to explode.

"You would still try to leave me..." he murmurs, his voice as soft as a scalpel. "...in this shameful state?"

You want to deny it. You want to shake your head and scream that he's wrong, that you hate this, that he can't control you—

So why do your hips thrust against his fingers, making that wet, obscene gift echo in the cold room? Why does your body burn and beg for more, even as your mind rebels?

And why—god, why—does his smile widen at that.

In a blink, his dry lips are on your neck, sucking, biting, marking, like a vampire feeding not only on your blood, but on your dignity. His voice is a wet growl against your skin:

"Do you still crave freedom?"

His free hand flies like lightning to your breast, squeezing, twisting, as if he could rip it from your body. You scream, but the sound turns into a hoarse moan as his teeth sink deeper, leaving a mark that bleeds slightly—just enough to sting. He chuckles, low, against your skin.

"Still long for your own control?"

His fingers, drenched in his own desire, position themselves at your entrance, circling, teasing, before sinking in all at once. Your body arches violently, the chains creaking, a sharp, broken sound escaping your throat like a wounded animal. He doesn't stop. He watches.

"I'll give it to you," he murmurs, his fingers moving inside you with precision. "But I need you to admit..." - a pause, his teeth grazing your earlobe - "...that you won't leave me."

Your chest rises and falls like a cornered animal, your breath a chaos of ragged gasps and choked moans. His fingers don't stop—they move in and out, tracing wet lines between your body and his hand, your own desire sticky like a second skin over his glove. You don't realize it, but something inside him is also awakening—not love, not pity, but pure possession, a silent triumph as he makes you fall apart.

Your mind goes blank. There are no thoughts, only sensations—the relentless movement inside you, the chains cutting into your wrists, the cold table beneath your sweating belly. Until—

"Say it."

His voice is a cleaver, shattering the last of your resistance. Your legs tremble, muscles giving way, your fingers slipping from the edge of the table. And then, as if something were tearing the words from your throat—

"I—"

Your body locks, your hole tightens around his fingers, and everything you've held back comes pouring out—a hoarse scream, tears bursting from your eyes as if ripped from their sockets, your weight collapsing onto the table. You don't cry—you empty yourself, like a glass turned upside down.

The pain comes next. A hollow stab as he withdraws his fingers, leaving you trembling, exposed, ruined. If you had the strength, you would hide your face. But you don't. And he knows it.

You feel him pull away—the heat of his body, the weight of his gaze, the scent of ether and victory. When he turns and stops in front of you, your vision is so blurred you only see shadows: his fingers, glinting at you in the cold beam of light, the impeccable silhouette of his suit, the erect posture of someone who never loses.

And then—

He brings his wet fingers to his mouth.

Licks them. Slowly. As if tasting an expensive wine.

"Pathetic," he says, his voice filled with something that isn't contempt...but something worse...delight. "And to think you almost got away with it."

He laughs. And then he stalks off into the darkness again. You hear what sounds like a door creaking open and then closing.

You're alone.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧.

[happy74827]

Bring It In

[Sam Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After a rough hunt, Sam seeks your comforting touch.

WC: 1747

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Sammy!! My adorable pookie. God, he was so precious in the early seasons that I just had to write about him.

『••✎••』

Waking up to a shadow in the middle of the night, especially when you were staying in a motel that was miles away from any civilization, was never a good thing. Especially when you could feel it even before opening your eyes, its presence heavy on the air. It made your senses scream and your heart race.

The feeling of being watched and studied was not something a normal person would like to wake up to, and as you lay there in bed with your eyes closed, that feeling struck you right into your core, making your muscles tense. Adding into the fact of the complete awareness of the supernatural world you were a part of, that was just the cherry on top of the cake.

But as you lay there, your brain going at 100 miles an hour, you realize this instance wasn’t one of those life-threatening situations you were so used to. It was an oddly comforting feeling as the flashlight you flew into the darkness was caught in the hands of someone you trusted with your life, the same hands that have touched every inch of your body in a way you could never forget.

He had been hunting all night, you could tell. Although it was dark, and only the soft glow from the motel sign illuminated the room, you knew his clothes were covered in dirt and leaves, and his hair was a mess. He didn't care, though, as he walked closer to you, his eyes becoming clear as he turned the flashlight on.

Sam had a tendency to get into these moods. A mood where he needed something to ground him and remind him that the life he was living was worth fighting for. You had always been that thing for him, his anchor, and as he approached the bed, his mind was racing with everything and nothing all at once.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands reached out, touching you softly. It wasn’t sexual; he had no interest in that right now. He was looking for comfort. He just needed you.

You sighed, pulling yourself up from your position on the bed to get a better look at him. His eyes were tired and glistened over with some sort of sadness that he tried to keep hidden from you, but he knew he couldn’t. The tears reflected the moonlight that shined through the blinds and through the flashlight, and although the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than usual, he still looked at you with the most love you could imagine.

You didn't have to ask him why he was here, why he had been gone all night. You knew. He was a creature of habit, and Sam was very good at reading people. He knew when you were at your weakest when you needed him the most, and you did the same for him.

He needed reassurance. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, or else the guilt and shame would eat him alive. So when he saw the soft expression on your face, the gentle smile, and the look in your eyes, he nodded. It was soft, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

“You scared me.” You said, reaching forward to take his hand in yours. The flashlight was still clutched tightly in his other hand, the light shining up at the ceiling.

He sighed, squeezing your hand and looking away. It was silent for a moment before you felt him shift. The mattress moved slightly under his weight as he scooted closer, his eyes meeting yours once more.

Without a word, he reached forward, the hand that had been holding the flashlight coming up to rest on the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, the roughness of his hand feeling nice against your soft skin. He ran his thumb over your cheek before moving to cup the back of your head.

He was slow, almost hesitant, and you gave him a reassuring smile. You loved this man more than anything, and the gentle kisses he placed on your forehead and cheeks were the most tender of moments. You felt your heart swell as he finally kissed your lips, his hand moving from the back of your head to wrap around you, pulling you closer.

He let the flashlight fall to the floor, the loud thud it made against the carpet going unnoticed. You felt his lips tremble slightly, his emotions getting the best of him as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away, just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. Now you saw the blood, the bruises, and the cuts covering his face. He didn’t seem to care about them, but you did. It broke your heart, knowing that he had spent all night killing monsters and demons just to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.

He let out a sigh, a long, hard breath as if he had been holding it in forever. Relief, the kind that came after a good cry or after a bad case of the flu was gone, washed over his face, and you could see the tension leave his shoulders. He leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“I know,” He spoke, his voice cracking slightly. His tone was soft, his lips brushing against your ear. You shivered, rubbing your hands over his back. “I’m sorry, I just.. I needed- I needed to make sure that you were okay. That we were okay. It just... It gets overwhelming, and with what happened to Jess-”

You shushed him, turning to place a kiss on his temple. He sighed again, his breath tickling the side of your neck. His scent surrounded you, a mix of dirt and sweat and a hint of gunpowder. Dean’s presence was there, too, a bit of cologne and beer mixed into the air.

You didn't need to know where Dean was. You were pretty sure he had been on a hunt with Sam, and now he was at a bar, trying to get over his demons. The two brothers were so closely similar and yet so different, but in moments like this, where they were both torn down to their core, you could see the resemblance.

The two of them had a lot of things in common, but their biggest similarity was their stubbornness. They refused to ask for help, and they were afraid to show weakness, especially in front of each other.

Dean was off, drinking his worries away, while Sam came to you. A pattern the two had developed.

You had met the brothers in a motel very similar to the one you were in now. You were there for a simple vacation, a break from all the stresses of your life, but things changed when you were woken up to the sounds of gunshots and glass breaking.

Dean had burst into your room, dragging you out with him. He was a smart guy, and although he had no clue who you were, he knew you were in danger. He had gotten into a fight with a… well, it didn’t matter what it was; all that mattered was that the thing had a taste for human flesh.

You and Sam had bonded instantly, and Dean wasn't too far behind. It was the start of a beautiful friendship despite the poor circumstances. After a year of being around each other, helping each other out with whatever situation came, the three of you became closer than you ever thought possible. A little more with Sam, of course.

So, now, when Sam comes to you late at night, needing you, needing reassurance, you don’t hesitate. You give him all that he needs and more, and when he holds you close, his body trembling and his words shaky, you know it was the right decision.

His grip on you tightened, pulling you into him. You let him, holding him just as close, your hands gently running up and down his back. You could feel the fabric of his shirt under your fingertips, and the heat from his skin radiated through.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. You could tell he was worried about Dean, about you, about the whole situation. He was afraid of what was coming, and although he didn’t know it, his fears were valid.

There was a lot to come, and it wasn’t going to be easy. The two of you had been through a lot, and although you didn't regret it, the thought of something happening to him was enough to drive you crazy.

You were about to say something, but the words never left your mouth. He was kissing you again, the force much stronger than the last, his hands gripping your arms tightly. It was an amazing kiss, filled with all the passion and love he had for you, and as he moved you, pushing you onto the bed, you felt his desperation.

It wasn’t a desperate need for sex, but a desperate need to be close to you. You knew this, and as you tangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him just as desperately, you knew he needed you more than anything. Who cared if you ended up losing more sleep than normal? Who cared if the sun came up and Dean returned to the room, finding the two of you still tangled up together in a mess of sheets? Who cared if the world was coming to an end and this was the last time the two of you would ever see each other?

He needed you, and as he whispered your name, his voice cracking with emotion, you knew he had no plans of letting you go. Not now, not ever. And when Dean did pop up a few hours later with messy hair and his shirt on backward, he would take a single glance and walk right back out the door, knowing he was going to be okay.

The three of you would be okay, and when the time comes and the world starts ending, you would fight till the very end. Because there is nothing worth fighting for more than your family, and you would do anything to protect the people you loved.

[coffeegnomee]

I finally finished the vod and BRO. derap just reminds me so much of eclipse zam. I think that's why i forgive all his wrongs. his leading questions, his wanting proof of change of zam choosing him over mapicc.

Derap has found himself on a team that he loves dearly. That he never wants to leave. That he refuses to leave. That was there for him at his lowest, and accepted him in when he had nothing. (and he feels like the anchor to keep zam from going evil, feels like he's making positive change on zam whom he was (and still is) convinced will go insane and evil if he doesn't take care of himself)

And every conversation he thinks zam will be the one to leave him. kick him out.

Every damn meeting in eclipse zam left being like "yippee im so glad they didn't kick me off the team!" completely, completely missing the concept that vi and subz desperately loved him and didn't want him to leave. the last thing they wanted was for eclipse to fall apart. they would change and adjust the plan as much as necessary to make zam know they wanted him to stay. that they wanted him to love the project they were working towards. and every time zam said he was okay with the plan again, they breathed a sign of relief.

But every day zam swallowed his own opinion and kept moving forward with the team. and freaking derapchu is doing the same thing. there have been so many instances of this, i could never list them all. zam thought of bringing his tree from spawn to zaun and derap almost said he hated how it looked and zam shouldn't build it, but swallowed that and said if zam wanted to build it he could. he said he wanted to start going on a murder spree and zam said he didn't want that at all, and next thing you know derap is saying he doesn't want to kill anymore. There's a hundred little instances of derap realizing his opinions differ from zam's wants and he shoves his own opinions away. if he doesn't, he will be kicked off the team.

And as derap tries to bring up what his concerns are, he shoves the responsibility for deciding the fate of the team on zam. Just like zam did. zam could not tell eclipse he wanted to leave, he wanted them to choose for him.

eclipse was doomed because zam had to face the fact that he couldn't put his needs last. that he couldn't just ignore what mattered most to him. period. and because he was terrible at confrontation and communication.

and somehow derap, despite founding this team precisely upon making zam realize he needs to put himself first and be selfish, doesn't realize he needs to do that too. and that he's not doing it. even if he rebuttled zam when zam brought that up. tbh imo he switched it up fast when zam brought that point up.

it does help that zam isn't lying to derap: unfortunately eclipse was keeping secrets from zam. big secrets.

But derap is convinced zam is still lying to him. he said it and then immediately went back on it.

And fundamentally, it was not so much that eclipse lied to zam about the wormhole, and more that zam thought they were lying when they said they weren't going to be the villains. he didn't believe that it was about protecting the three of them, not taking over the server. and it was always about protecting them. vi proved that in the end with banning himself and letting spoke completely take over the project.

There is a massive conflict of interest and a deep insecure distrust. and derap cannot admit how much that bothers him. he says he's fine with zam doing things with mapicc. he says he's just wants zam to be happy. but he is so desperately unhappy. no matter how much he insists on the opposite.

devotions only got their win (yipppe!!!) because zam refused to stop talking to mapicc and mapicc felt comfortable enough saying exactly what he thought. and then zam felt comfortable saying exactly what he thought too. both aired their real grievances, not shooting hypotheticals and asking only for the other to make choices about wether or not they would stay teamed. and it earned apologies and resolution all around. devotions w.

and mapicc compromised with zam, he didn't change his opinion for him. he still thinks mawn was good, did do good, doesn't want to let it go, but thinks it's done what it was meant to do. so he is letting it fade away. zam compromised with mapicc. he still thinks mawn was too much, that he can't join it, that he won't go against it, but thinks maybe it wasn't all bad. so he's going to help mapicc if mapicc needs help. W being secure in having your own opinions.

derap keeps changing his opinion for zam.

maybe they don't fall apart. derap is not zam. everybody is unique. but damn if the parallels aren't here and aren't looming like a storm cloud over it all.

[approximatelynothereorthere]

Broken Legs - Part 2

Bodhi Durran x OC (Evelyn Lyford) OC masterpost ☆ Masterlist

3.6k words ☆ Part 2 of 2 (but I may want to do a part 3 so lmk if you're interested) Part 1 here

This took waaaay longer to finish (I am in the middle of exams rn so I don't know what I was expecting) than I expected but it's finally here!!!

Warnings: Nimh being a bit murdery, description of mending a broken bone (not fun), references to some evie lore that may involve some childhood trauma (not specified), tiny mention of blood, bodhi being adorable, dain being a bit of an idiot

(please let me know if I missed anything)

“Good, you’re awake.” Is the first thing I hear as I open my eyes but that doesn’t make any sense because, even through my slightly bleary eyes, I can’t see anyone around. Aside from the first year in a bed at the other end of the room, who looks like she’s got a really bad cold and is a little high, there’s no one else here. Parker’s shift in the infirmary ended while I was asleep, if it’s the time I think it is, Nolan left quite quickly after he mended my legs and Bodhi eventually gave in to my insistence that I would fine if he left me for a bit to go to his classes. I take a quick look around the room just to make sure I’m not blatantly ignoring someone. I’m not, there’s no one else here. So what-

“Sometimes I question why I chose you when you’re this stupid.”

“Ah, hi Nimh.”

“How are the legs?” She asks. Greeting people normally is not something she finds easy so, the majority of the time, she just doesn’t make any attempts.

“They ache but, you know, not broken anymore so…”

Nolan had mended me earlier. Mending, a deceptive name for what he is able to do. Yes, he does technically mend but there’s a sort of gentleness to that word that does not translate to the actual process of mending bones. I hadn’t expected it either, I’d never broken a bone whilst in the quadrant before. My only experience with menders was with a cadet in the second wing, last year, who was one. She’d had a go at mending some bruises I’d received on the mat, nothing too major (I had won the match, after all) and easy enough for a first year who was only just learning to use their signet. The mending felt odd but not uncomfortable, it was warm and tingly like someone had just brushed their lips on my skin. But mending bone, that’s a whole other sensation. Less a sensation and more like something has spectacularly exploded and embedded itself into all the broken bits of bone to furiously jam them back together all while shockwaves from the explosion pulse through your nerves and make you wish you could just have broken legs forever and ever. Menders now terrify me. Imagine what they could do if they actually tried to hurt you.

Bodhi was with me the whole time. Like a single tent peg that’s managed to keep the flailing tent tethered to the ground in the middle of a hurricane. Holding my hands, in part, to counter me and also to comfort. To tether me to reality, be my rock, my anchor, my gravity.

He stayed for a little while after, still holding my hand, occasionally whispering soft little utterances, in Tyrrish (I’d asked him to teach me after I heard him speak it quietly to himself), to me. Until I realised he was missing History.

“What is your plan with the squad leader?” Nimh’s voice cuts through my thoughts sharply although there’s the tiniest hint in her tone that reminds me of when I would conspire with my best friend back home.

“Unfortunately it’s against the codex to kill him.”

“Not for me, it isn’t.” And she’s back to the bloodthirsty dragon I’m used to.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m not feeling up to taking over his responsibilities. It’s hard enough being his executive officer.” I reply as a new healer enters the infirmary to start their rounds. Shouldn’t be bad with a grand total of two people in their care at the moment.

“I had forgotten that it may affect your leadership position. Now I think we should definitely kill him.”

“No, we’re not killing him for… what is your obsession with power?”

“Why do you not want more power?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Because this shit is difficult enough as it is.” I bite back. At the same time, two infantry cadets stumble into the infirmary. One with a jagged bleeding cut across his cheek and the other clutching his side like his internal organs are going to fall out. I highly doubt they are, I can’t even spot any blood. Though, that doesn’t rule out internal bleeding so I’ll let him off the hook for the dramatics. For now.

“And you are perfectly capable…” Right, I’m still having a conversation and… hang on-

“Whoa, is that a compliment?”

“You have ruined it now.” Nimh’s voice is now devoid of any emotion, making me smile a little.

“You still complimented me.”

“We still don’t have a plan for the squad leader.”

I see the healer take note of the infantry cadets and I swear she lets out a small exasperated sigh. I think she’s a first year. Huh, so much for an easy shift.

“Smooth topic change.”

“Plan.” Yep. There is not a single ounce of emotion in her voice now. My poor emotionally repressed dragon.

“How about I give him my notes on the first year's matches late?”

There’s silence from her end but I know she’s still listening.

“What? It’s Dain! That will drive him up the wall.”

Still, silence.

“I’ll do it for a full two months.”

“Better.”

“Are you going to do something to mess with Cath?”

“Obviously.”

“Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

“No.”

I guess I’ll find out when it happens then.

The first year has started to stitch up the cut on the first guy’s cheek. I’m fighting a small smirk that wants to form on my lips at his more than uncomfortable state.

Nimh’s voice creeps into my mind once again. “Enlighten me as to why you’re taking pleasure in this unknown man’s pain.”

Odd phrasing.

“I have my reasons.” She knows why, she just wants me to say it.

“Infantry?”

I’m half tempted not to reply and then fully tempted as the door opens allowing me to feign being distracted by the new visitor. The door appears to open on its own at first and I briefly consider the possibility of ghosts. I’m quickly starting to get bored in here.

To either my relief or disappointment, it’s not ghosts. It’s someone pushing the door open with their back. Someone tall with a dark head of curls holding a tray in their arms. They step away from the door letting it swing back to close and then pause momentarily. Warm brown searching eyes meet mine and instantly soften. I lift my hand from where it’s been resting on my side and give Bodhi a subtle wave. As if the floor is propelling him, he springs toward my bed with a small smile gracing his lips.

“Ah,” Nimh chuckles. “He’s here. That’s why your mind has gone all fuzzy.”

I ignore her and the sparkling navy presence in my mind ebbs away a little.

I can now see the items he’s holding that forced him to make his almost spectral entrance. Two plates piled with steaming food and a book. My book, which had been hastily turned upside down with the pages still open on my bedside table after Imogen violently banged on my door to get me out and down to breakfast on time. My book, which is now carefully placed on a tray in my boyfriend’s arms with a navy blue ribbon poking out the pages marking where I left off. He’s a godsdamn angel.

“Dinner is served milady.” he proclaims solemnly, placing the tray on the small wooden table to my left.

“Hello.”

“Hi. How are you feeling darling?” He sits in his chair from this morning and immediately grasps my hand to kiss it softly.

“Bored.”

He bites back a smile.

“Not quite what I meant. How are your legs?”

I let out a small sigh and squeeze his hand. “They feel alright, a bit achy but good.”

Bodhi hums in response, his too-pretty eyes flitting over to where the first year healer is still sorting out the two infantry cadets. “They gonna let you go tonight?”

“Not sure. I’ve only just woken up but I feel fine enough.” He nods. “You didn’t have to bring me dinner by the way.” I murmur whilst shifting myself into more of a sitting position.

“Yes, I did. You haven’t eaten all day and…” He hesitates though the words are on the tip of his tongue “I’ve also gone far too long without seeing you.”

I narrow my eyes at him but the corner of my mouth lifts slightly when I see how he’s still focused intensely on me like it’s his one and only purpose in life.

“You sap.”

“I’m very aware.” He states before shuffling forward in his seat slightly to take a plate and fork off of the tray. “Now, eat or I’ll feed you myself.” He leans over to pass them to me.

‘I’d like to see you try.’ I lift my chin a little.

“Oh yeah?” Before I can even register what’s happening Bodhi is reaching across with a fork aiming straight for my mouth. I duck and hide my face in the pillow resting behind me.

“That was not actually an invitation, Bodhi Durran! You ass!” I groan into the pillow and raise my hand to flip him off. He takes said hand in his own and pulls me by the arm away from the pillow. My eyes are shut, he doesn’t deserve to be looked at after pulling that, but I can hear him laughing. Quiet little fits of giggles at my perfectly valid reaction to him trying to feed me like I’m a petulant child. I fold my arms over my chest, opening my eyes slowly as if that will prepare me for another fork attack. He’s stopped laughing now but his face is lit up in a smile that causes the skin around the outer corner of his eyes to crease a little. I take the plate from him avoiding eye contact so I don’t accidently contract a strain of his infectious smile. Staring straight at the plate in my lap seems the best option at the moment. My stomach rumbles at the sight in front of me. I am fucking starving.

“How was your day anyway?” I ask in between mouthfuls.

I hear him chuckle slightly before answering. “Fine. Good. Well, not good. I missed you.”

At that, I do look at him, eyebrows raised, corner of my mouth lifting.

“Hey, I wasn’t the only one.” He defends. “Imogen was in a foul mood today. I’d say she missed you too.”

“Imogen’s always in a foul mood. That means nothing.” I point out as he takes the other plate on the tray and begins eating. Something in Bodhi’s eyes shifts.

“Well,” he begins. “she was excessively pissed about something but she wouldn’t say what…” he trails off, looking at me pointedly.

I bite my lip and slowly put down my fork as I realise what he’s getting at. He still doesn’t know what happened. Probably still thinks someone’s out there waiting to try and kill me again which they aren’t. No one tried to kill me in the first place but his adorable yet seriously paranoid ass likely thinks they did. I did get knocked off the top of my dragon and only broke both of my legs, after all.

“Look…” I start but then-

“Hey! Sorry if I’m interrupting. I just need to do a couple checks and then I think I can go get one of my professors to discharge you.” It’s the first year, oblivious to the heavy cloud of awkwardness that is hovering above Bodhi and me.

I turn to her with a smile. That's my best attempt at not being awkward but pretending I’m fine when I’m not has never been my strong suit. “Yeah. Sure whatever you need to do.”

And she’s off straightening out my legs and staring at them as if she can see through the skin to the newly mended bone. She notes something down on the clipboard she’s holding and then turns to me again.

“I need to see how you’re walking now so if you want to get up and just walk to the other side of the room.”

I nod and start to get up out of the bed, swinging my legs to one side and letting my feet touch the floor. I can feel the cold through my socks and it sends a small shiver up my body. Bodhi reaches out a hand to pull me up and I take it without hesitation. His hands are warm and comforting like always, unless he’s been outside without gloves for too long, and his thumb brushes over the back of my hand like it’s muscle memory by now. He doesn’t say anything though. I doubt he will until I start talking. I glance at his face briefly, there’s a small crease between his eyebrows and his eyes look far away like their souls have wandered off into the depths of his mind. He’s shut down, worrying, wondering why I haven’t told him what happened. And, honestly, I am too. He’s my boyfriend for fucks sake.

The second Bodhi lets go of my hand to allow me to walk, I’m cold all over again and there’s a bone-deep ache in my legs that makes me wince.

The healer- I really should ask her name- notices and helpfully adds “It might hurt a bit but we’re just checking everything’s back in the right place and not causing massive amounts of pain. However, if anything does feel wrong, say.”

I take a breath and step forward. One foot in front of the other. It hurts but only because I feel a bit stiff. The sharp stabs I felt this morning are long gone. I turn around when I make it to the other side of the room and the first year is right back to making a note on her clipboard. She looks up quickly and says “Okay, I can go get one of my professors and you’ll be good to go.”

Five minutes later, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on my boots as Bodhi puts our half-eaten dinner plates back on the tray next to my untouched book. He’s moving slowly, his mind still far away, worrying when he shouldn’t be. I can’t take this anymore.

“It was an accident.” I blurt.

Bodhi looks at me with furrowed brows. “What?”

“The whole falling off Nimh thing. No one was trying to kill me like I know you think they did.”

He opens his mouth to say something.

“No. Let me finish. I was standing at the top of Nimh’s leg, about to dismount, when another dragon was coming into the flight field a little too low. They went straight over Nimh and me and the gust blew me off. They didn’t mean to be flying that low over us. It was an accident. No one is trying to kill me, and it most certainly wasn’t because of you.”

He nods slowly and then quickly sits beside me on the bed. His soft brown eyes meet mine and he says “You’re sure? Because if someone was-”

“I’m sure. Stop worrying baby.”

I take Bodhi’s hands in mine and a wide grin lights up the rest of his face.

“What?” I ask and his grin gets impossibly wider.

“You never call me that in public.” He teases whilst pulling my arms up so my hands will rest on the back of his neck.

I look anywhere but him and blood rushes into my cheeks.

“Wha- there are, like, three people in here. That doesn’t count.”

His hands find their way to my side, pulling me closer, and he leans down a little so we’re face to face. I’m still not letting myself look at him.

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.” He murmurs before pressing his lips firmly onto mine. I kiss him back and pull him closer as sparks shoot up my spine. Bodhi smiles into the kiss and after a moment, in the biggest turn of the century, pulls away first.

“You also never let kisses last that long in public.” He adds.

I groan and drop my forehead onto his chest.

“Are you complaining?”

“No. No, definitely not.” He chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

Then a thought comes to me. A stupid thought, an utterly ridiculous thought but still, now it’s in my head and there’s only one way to get it out.

“Is this your way of saying you’re mad at me?” I mumble into his chest. I can barely hear myself say it, I’m half expecting Bodhi to innocently ask me to repeat myself but from the way he freezes and his hands grip harder at my sides, I know he heard me.

“Why on earth would you think that?” His voice is quiet, too quiet. I lift my head to look at him. His eyes are wide, the rest of his face frozen in an expression that is not dissimilar to that of a kicked puppy.

I feel like a bucket of ice water has been tipped over me and in my most pathetic voice I say, “I didn’t tell you what happened, made you worry the whole day.”

Bodhi looks at me in sheer disbelief and lifts a hand to my face, brushing a thumb over my cheekbone. “Oh Evie, no never. I don’t think it’s actually possible for me to be mad at you, ever.”

I nod carefully and let my hands smooth over his chest. I’m not saying anything, not until the stupidity of my question washes away.

“What I am mad about though,” he continues as if that utterance was never going to make my heart rate increase exponentially. “is that I brought your book all the way here so I could read to you and now you’re getting discharged before I can even suggest it.”

Warmth spreads through my body and before I can properly think about it I’m wrapping my arms around his torso and laying my head against his chest.

“Fuck, I love you.” Tumbles from my lips and everything in me just stops functioning because there goes another thing I don’t do in public. At least, not so loudly because I’m pretty sure I was close to shouting there.

“You are on a roll with these public displays of affection today.” Bodhi teases, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me even closer so I’m practically in his lap. I glare up at him but don’t make an attempt to move away. I honestly wouldn’t care if the entire quadrant came in and saw us like this. Something has to be wrong with me.

“Okay sorry, but while we’re on the theme of asking silly questions, well I’m more just curious… Was it Aetos?” He asks so casually that I almost don’t realise what he’s said, too lost in the rhythm of his heart beating by my ear.

“How the fuck does he know that?” I ask Nimh, who’s been easing herself back into my mind, no doubt spying so she can mercilessly mock me later.

“Not a clue, I haven’t told Cuir anything.” She sounds extremely amused, I can practically hear her smirk if dragons can even do that. Well, only one way to find out now.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

I try to angle my head to look at him but it’s not really possible without moving from my very comfortable position, which I very much do not want to do. Bodhi begins to slowly use one of his hands to caress my back, lighting a trail of sparks along my spine.

“Dain kept looking guiltily at the spot you’d usually sit in during Battle Brief, so I guessed he’s got something to do with it.” He states. “Originally I had thought he had just seen it happen and felt bad, I didn’t think he would’ve been the one to cause it because at the time I thought someone wanted to kill you and he can’t kill you without breaking the codex and we all know how he feels about that. But now… well, I’ve seen how much he likes to make those dramatic ass landings with his dragon.”

I smile a little at that.

“He did have a bit of a panic when he saw me go down and he offered to help. I did then tell him if he stepped any closer there would be a dagger embedded in his chest.”

Bodhi laughs, the sound making my heart flutter, and he kisses the top of my head again. “That’s my girl.” He says into my hair and I instinctively move closer into his chest.

“Okay, seriously what happened? Did they give you too many painkillers or something? Because this never happens outside of our rooms unless you’re really sleepy?” He genuinely questions.

“Not sleepy,” I state. “I think it might be because I was so scared of poisoning you earlier. Like, I’m overcompensating or something. Maybe I just don’t give a fuck anymore, want people to see you’re mine.”

And apparently, I have no filter anymore either because I even shocked myself with that last admission. Bodhi just holds me even tighter and mutters something in Tyrrish that I can’t quite pick up.

After a minute of comfortable silence, I ask, “Could I stay in your room tonight and you could read to me?”

“I was just about to suggest that, darling.”

Thank you so much for reading this and please let me know what you think!

I am currently working on something for Aaric and also Ridoc (eventually I'll get round to all the FW boys) so look out for that if you're interested.

Also my inbox is open if anyone wants to ask questions about my OC's or just FW in general because I love talking about it.

[thelaithlyworm]

so i watched Superman (2025) last night, and liked it.

some not-too-spoilery thoughts now that i've had some shuteye in-between:

-- damn, this was scripted in 2022? truly we are in A Decade, and it's only getting worse.

-- lex luthor made an excellent villain -- awful, and his fictional extravagance does not in any way distract from the knowledge that there are people like this in the world today, who would do all of that if they could. it is A Decade.

-- i loved the quiet assertion of a theme early on: "that's malik ali, a local," coming from a villain no less.

-- Mr Terrific was an unexpected delight: so very competent, so very heroic, so unendingly grouchy. he's got a lot on his plate. people are annoying. he's still going to save their asses and look hella cool doing it.

-- the dog. no notes.

-- i also loved that lois lane would, quite bluntly, call out Superman. sometimes you have to think things through more. well you think these people are lying about their reasons, but do you know they're lying? how do you know? what's your evidence and is it reliable? ... contrasted with his very real sense of urgency: 'bad things are happening right now and i have the physical power to stop them, do i have time to futz around asking questions first?'. i understand -- i really understand -- his position here, but in a story where false accusations and extra-judicial thuggery are a very real problem, i appreciate we have someone on Team Good Guy reminding us not to just believe the first emotive thing that comes our way, just because it suits our prejudices.

-- the lighting was lovely! a) i could see absolutely everything that was happening and b) there were scenes with sunlight falling across people's faces, or shadows happening as people walked around, because they were a part of their environment. none of that bland-ass 'film in front of a greenscreen and decide where it's happening later' shit.

-- related to above -- they did a great job of making things get the comic-booky superpowers feel, while keeping dust in the lens. the embellished parts felt really anchored in the real world.

-- there's a point where a character has to reconsider just about everything about his legacy, and it's crushing. but also, someone points out: 'what you thought they meant says a lot more about you than what they thought they meant'. like the villainy above having roots in the real world, finding that someone you admired is not the exemplar you thought they were, so what are your ideals now? -- that sure does happen too. and it's not easy but everyone is doing their best.

-- clark sitting on the bench outside his parents' home, eating cereal. my favourite scene!

-- there are a lot of very long action scenes, and absolutely none of them felt draggy to me -- i felt the production team did a good job of varying the settings and how the action went down.

-- (i still want to know why the UN was not mentioned during the borovia/jarhanpur conflict. there's a whole damn planet out there, mr gunn.)

-- i may, may have a bit of a crush on The Engineer. she's a shit, but. Not To Be A Lesbian etc. etc.

all in all, yes, i liked it a great deal.

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 131-140: Want to stop a ritual? Throw shit in it

Here we are, back with ten more chapters!

Jon promised me a way to save Daisy and I can’t wait to see how he will do it. And, most importantly, if he will come back all in one piece.

Fingers crossed.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post  _______________________________

MAG 131 - Flesh

So, Jon’s anchor is going to be part of himself. But it looks like that, no matter how many people/things want to kill him, he cannot die nor hurt himself in any way. Good to know, at least his patron is useful for something.

Melanie is back and she’s… better? Somehow? I mean, she’s still very pissed, but at least she’s not in a killing spree mode anymore.

I also really like her talk about anger, because anger is exactly how she describes it: gives you strength, it pushes you to do things and, when kept at bay, can become a strong part of you and your personality.

But because of its double nature, if anger keeps being validated, it can grow until “it slips out and hurts someone”. And if there is something that validates your anger and tells you that you are right to hurt others… you latch to it. After all, everyone would prefer some good validation, rather than acknowledging what you did was wrong and dealing with the consequences. As Melanie said, the bullet “didn’t stay in my leg because of some ghostly masterplan. It stayed because I wanted it.”.

Melanie: say no more, bro.

So, she calls Helen. And Jon is incredibly lucky, because I feared his rejection would let Helen plan revenge against him. But nope, it turns out she helped Jon’s colleagues against The Flesh and trapped Jared Hopworth in its corridors.

You’re a nice Distortion, Helen, I like you.

We finally meet Jared in person and he’s a nice guy, I like him! I mean:

He wants to kill Jon, but we already learned that killing Jon is a national sport, so it’s fine.

He wants to be paid for his statement, so at least he’s more clever and diplomatic than Jude, who just got pissed and burned Jon in return.

As soon as he got a Leitner, he went straight to experimenting on his father (by making him taller) and his mother (by giving her a new smile). He’s fucked up, I like that in a character.

When other Flesh servants told him to remake the world together, Jared replied: "fuck off, I like the world as it is and I have stuff to do.". What a king.

He got new friends, by reshaping their bodies.

Moral of the story: The Flesh’ powers can make you win in life, but unfortunately you can do nothing if someone scams you. And Jared got scammed by the letters, that told him to attack the Archives.

Who was the sender? The Web, still following some weird business plan? Or Elias wanting to have fun?

So, Jared fulfills his side of the agreement and tells his life story up to a few months ago. And Jonathan Sims, the Archivist, avatar of The Eye, magical know-it-all, the guy who literally sold one of his ribs for a goddamn statement… has the nerve to complain that the statement is already over and “hardly worth a rib”.

Goddamit Jon, you’re asking to be killed.

But since Jon is incredibly lucky, he doesn’t die because Melanie and Helen rescue him.

Honestly, I like the vibes these two have together. They sound like total besties and how cool would that be? They deserve to hang out together and talk about the people they killed, how complicated bodies are and how liberating it is to not care about them.

Is this change still supporting my “positive godly powers” theory? For now, yes. We’ll see how it evolves in the future.

_______________________________

MAG 132 - Entombed

After more than 100 chapters from MAG 2 and the absolute king who kept the coffin in his house without opening it (you will be forever famous, my man), we finally see what’s inside the Casket.

And there isn’t much, aside from a path that keeps getting tighter and smaller until you’re literally crawling, unable to die and unable to move on at the same time. It kinda reminds me of The Enigma of Amigara Fault by Junji Ito and the sense of claustrophobia I felt while reading it, so yes, I like it.

Daisy was still alive, I knew it! And Jon casually confirmed my theory about how Daisy was a servant of The Hunt. She herself admitted The Hunt had been part of her life for a very long time!

But hey, apparently being stuck in a casket for months, away from your loved ones, is enough to convince even the strongest Hunter that, once they’ll come back, they’ll change their life and become a better person, fuck The Hunt.

Does that mean The Buried >>> The Hunt? Makes sense: anyone stuck in a coffin for more than 30 seconds would start to reconsider their whole life.

About Daisy’s dreams: I'm not sure if I got it right, but what I understood is that she was having prophetic dreams about what would happen. Once she saw her dreams starting to become real (e.g., Jon coming back from the States with the same shirt she dreamt of), she decided Jon was not human anymore, and she had to kill him.

Pretty normal: everyone connected to a supernatural god wants to kill Jon.

Despite the threat, Jon focuses very hard on his rib incredible luck and gets them both out, just in time to meet Basira - who hasn’t dropped dead in shock yet. This man’s luck is starting to become supernatural too.

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MAG 133 - Dead Horse

I’ve never heard of the lost city of Z, but it turns out it’s something taken from the real world - as well as Fawcett, his son Jack and his friend Raleigh Rimmel.Glad to learn something new :D

So these guys went searching for that city and searched. And searched. And searched. And met people from past expeditions and searched together. And searched. And searched.

Moral of the story: The Hunt is both the stupidest and the most clever of all Powers. It’s the stupidest because its ritual is neverending. And it’s the most clever, because if the ritual never ends, no one can throw shit in it to stop it.

Also, “The Everchase” is a cool name.

Okay, she’s a bit of a queen for this reply, but also: trust Jon, Basira. He says and does stupid shit, fine, but he already crossed the “I’m going to do everything by myself to save everyone” bridge. He spent an entire season being paranoid, only to realize he was being stupid. So yes, he’s right when he says “we make bad decisions when we don’t communicate”.

He might not be human anymore, but he’s still my son and I’m his proud mother <3

One last thing: Daisy has been eight months in the goddamn coffin and Jon three days? Holy shit, time flies when you’re having fun. Or when you’re being buried underground.

I wonder where the fuck was Martin during all of that. When will my man come back from Peter Lukas’ office - or wherever he’s working?

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MAG 134 - Time of Revelation

Holy shit, I literally called him. Martin is back and the time of revelation wasn’t just for him: it was for us too.

So. A fifteenth Power, uh? Fear of Extinction, to wipe out everything in our world and leave nothing behind. “The Terrible Change. The Future Without Us.”

Pretty accurate fear and I definitely don’t like how we seem to inch closer and closer to it. Let’s all collectively thank humans’ hubris, incompetence and ignorance for the decisions made in recent history.

This "new birth" also makes me think: considering new Powers can be born from new fears... can a new Power be born from our century's new fears?

I am especially thinking about the "rise of the AI" fear. The fear that humanity will be destroyed by AI. That AI will take over and wipe us out entirely.

Is this fear maybe too similar to The Extinction, or is there the foundation for a possible, modern Power? What do you think?

My thoughts aside, this MAG tells us some more interesting stuff regarding Peter Lukas and the overall plot:

*

First: Two Powers never attempted a ritual.

Mother-of-Puppets, aka The Web. And I get it: why changing the world, when you’re having fun already? This Power is based on differences, so a multifaceted world is already perfect enough for it.

Terminus, aka The End. And, again, of course it doesn’t need to perform a ritual. Everything will eventually die, so why bother at all? Way better to just sit and wait for everything and everyone to die. Most relatable Power ever.

I get Peter’s reasons here. Of course, if a Power like The Extinction rises and takes full control, it will be game over for everyone. If The Extinction wipes everything out, there would be nothing for all other Powers - End included. And if there’s nothing for the Powers… who knows? Maybe they’ll wither and even die?

…

Don’t tell me this will be the final-final boss. Choosing between The Extinction and and keeping all other Powers. I will crumble and die if THIS is the final choice.

*

Second: Peter has a plan and he requires “someone touched by the Beholding”.

Of course Elias didn’t want to help: helping would’ve required him getting up on his ass and do stuff. Too much work for him.

Luckily for Peter, there is Martin! And Martin is:

lonely enough to be claimed by The Lonely

caring enough to do something for everyone else/the world

badass enough to go all the way and save everyone

Which are good things if you’re a great human being like Martin, bad things if the avatar of a supernatural Power got his eyes on you.

*

Third: Peter tried to perform a ritual.

So Forsaken is, what, the actual name of The Lonely? Just like Mother-of-Puppets and Terminus? Will we get the real names of all the Powers? I hope so.

Peter’s ritual failed because of Gertrude, of course. I wonder what kind of shit she throw in it: was it a guy, a thing or a guy with a thing?

Peter casually admits he will try to perform another ritual in the future - if the world, hopefully, doesn’t end in the meantime. Legit.

*

Fourth: Peter is a nice fatherly figure.

Like… he’s genuinely nice with Martin. He doesn’t want to pressure him and he’s trying his best to convince Martin he can be trusted.

Oh no, I am starting to like this guy and hoping he will be a good father. But I am so, so scared that he will destroy my hopes by the end of the season.

*

Fifth: Peter is a funny guy.

Pretty accurate resume of MAG 132, couldn’t have said it better.

Ahahaha, he even calls the archive “a little soap opera”! Which actually is, so he’s not wrong. He’s a funny guy, I’m really starting to like him.

AND HE’S EVEN NICER WITH MARTIN!

Peter Lukas, I’m talking to you now: get my hopes down, do one single wrong thing to Martin and The Extinction will be the last thing you will have to worry about.

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MAG 135 - Dark Matter

We’ve heard/read a ton of statements, in these four seasons. But this is the first in which we get an ultimatum. Manuela Dominguez and Maxwell Rayner literally said: “Yo, we made our Black Sun and will perform a ritual soon. Surrender or else.”

10 points for the audacity, 10 points for the overconfidence, 20 points for the nerve of entering the temple of The Eye, calling it “a sick voyeur” and threatening its avatar/servants.

Okay, so the Dedalus served three purposes:

Manuela Dominguez had to create the black sun for The Dark’s ritual

Jan Kilbride was the lab rat, picked to entertain Simon Fairchild and The Vast

Carter Chilcott was the lab rat for The Lonely because… the Lukases didn’t know what to do?

I get why these three worked together, because what’s more dark, vast and lonely than outer space? It was the perfect environment for them.

But also: why did these three Powers work together like this? The Dark did stuff for the ritual, The Vast wanted to have fun… and the Lukases? What did they want to accomplish? I doubt they just wanted to hang out with other Powers. Did they also make something for their ritual? Maybe we will find out in the future.

Great, it seems like the black sun is still around. And guess who is the lucky guy who will have to stop this ritual. Guess it, Jon.

Oh my god, I love this man an unholy amount.

How can I not stan him? He sent Basira literally everywhere, because bringing Daisy back required her to be away. What a bastard, I bet he was grinning all the time like the bitch he is.

He even has the gall to say Jon’s performance during the Unknowing was “disappointing”. All while he was sitting on his ass, waiting to be metaphorically fucked by Martin’s plan.

At least it seems like Jon did great with The Buried, so his now-self-appointed mentor Elias Bouchard is satisfied and wants Jon to become stronger for the next big shit.

And the next big shit is:

The boss of this season is going to be the Extinguished Sun. And here I thought the previous rituals have all been stopped by Gertrude - at least, that what the first statements of this season seemed to imply.

But nope, there is still one on. And I’m glad for the clarification regarding Ny-Ålesund and the People’s Church of the Divine Host: they were not servants of The Eye, they were against The Eye. Of course they shared stuff like closed eyes symbol: The Dark is a bit like The Stranger, a power of the unknown. While The Eye is a power strictly based on knowing, making things clear, shedding light. Of course they would contrast each other.

And guess who is the lucky boy who will have to stop this ritual? Guess it, Jo-

Elias, please, stop being so funny, I can’t grin every time I read your sentences.

Maybe it’s better if this guy is in prison, because if he’s around, I would spend all time giggling and grinning.

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MAG 136 - The Puppeteer

*EPIC, Circe and Puppeteer vibes intensifies*

So, as I was saying…

Poor Jon, he can’t even ask simple questions like “How are you?”, without activating his compelling powers. The Eye basically destroyed that shred of human interactions he could’ve still had.

Speaking of the statement, we get to see Neil Lagorio again. I remembered he was the guy from MAG 110, the one obsessed with spiders. Luckily I remembered it, because all the talk about puppeteers and being puppets and being puppeteered around had a lot of Stranger vibes.

Well, that until Annabelle Cane appeared, ready to pursue another weird business plan. This time the plan was:

Find the director obsessed with spiders

Now he’s obsessed with being puppeteered around

Send away his friend/colleague/caregiver for five goddamn months

Kill him by wrapping him in his strings

Uhm… profit?

Still a bit confused by her plans, but I appreciate the effort.

But if Annabelle’s plans are weird, Daisy’s plans are insane.

She’s really trying to not be a Hunter anymore. She wants to be a better person. So, what does she do, to be sure The Hunt won’t reclaim her again?

Kick the door of Elias’ old office

Go through all drawers

Find an employment contract

Fill it, sign it and throw it on the desk

Congratulations! The Eye accepted your cv, you’re part of the team

10/10, it’s the silliest plan ever, as well as the most Daisy plan ever and the most Eye plan ever.

Also, I keep loving how The Eye accepts everyone, it doesn’t matter if they’re carefully selected based on their psychological profile or if they smash open a door and sign a random form. Everyone is welcomed, in this temple of supernatural know-it-alls.

My bad, The Eye doesn’t accept everyone: it accepts QUEENS AND QUEENS ONLY.

Also, I love how we keep the EPIC vibes, first with the puppeteer, now with the monster.

Uhm, now that I think about it, Monster's lyric kinda fits for Jon, doesn’t it?

How has everything been turned against us? How did suffering become so endless?

And 

I'm surrounded by the souls of those I've lost I'm the only one whose line I haven't crossed

and

If I became the monster and threw that guilt away Would that make us stronger? Would it keep our foes at bay?

and

Then I'll become the monster I will deal the blow

And this last part works very well, considering what he says here about the choice he made during his coma, the “choice to become… something else”. Like, you know, a monster.

Now, I’m not saying I want a Jon-centric animatic based on Monster from EPIC the musical… but I really REALLY want a Jon-centric animatic based on Monster from EPIC the musical.

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MAG 137 - Nemesis

Oh, so a statement regarding the Slaughter’s ritual. And it has all the elements of a standard ritual:

a cool name (The Risen War)

people together in a place to do Power-related things (in this case, slaughter each other)

music because everything is better with the right rhythm

Profit! Unless someone throws shit in it

It turns out this is the first ritual in which you don’t have to throw shit in, to stop it. You have to throw shit out of it. In this case, a guy who decides “Fuck no, fuck the war and fuck killing others: I’d much rather live, thanks” and goes the hell out. Pretty good choice, I would’ve done the same.

Gerry has a father named Eric and I want to know what happened to him too.

Of course Gertrude likes Gerry. The world needs to like Gerry. Gerry deserves love and love only.

Jon has a point: why doesn’t he know anything about this ritual? He’s an avatar of The Eye, he’s supposed to know something about it. Or, at least, to know about this Watcher’s Crown.

And the way he talks about it… until now, I thought “the Watcher’s Crown” was just a cool name to identify the entire ritual. However, in his words, Jon seems to imply that there is something identifiable as a crown: something that may be crown-shaped or work as a metaphorical crown. It may not be a simple physical crown but maybe a crown made of eyes or a specific place that works as a “crown” - like a tower Panopticon-style.

Yes, I’m looking at you, Millbank prison.

Still, this doesn’t explain why Jon doesn’t know anything. An avatar of The Eye in The Eye’s temple… and he knows nothing? My possible explanations (for now) are:

Jon is not involved for now because Elias plans to involve him in a later stage. Hence, all the concern regarding how strong Jon is/testing him etc.

The Web/other Powers are purposely keeping Jon unaware of this ritual somehow, to not let The Eye ascend.

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MAG 138 - The Architecture of Fear

Oh my god, Elias and Martin interacting. I am delighted.

Elias’ relationship with the apocalypse is “complicated”. Which I suppose is another way to say “Stopping it requires too much work and I’m too lazy”. Have I already said I love this guy?

My love aside, Elias’ reason is that he has been busy. And him being busy is such a joke, even Martin snorts.

What can I say, I love that my meme “ahah Elias lazy” is canon.

You know, jokes aside, I like how Elias gives a choice to Martin and Jon. He pushes them where he wants, sure, but he doesn’t straight tell them what to do - except for when Martin was burning statements but, well, he was burning statements.

If Martin wants to join The Lonely, it will be on his own accord. Elias could’ve tried to stop him somehow, considering Martin is one of his entourage and he hired him to be a servant in the temple of The Eye. But still, if Martin makes a choice, Elias will let him do it. He’s a good guy, after all…

… but he’s also an useless bitch. And I love him for that <3

The foreshadowing is real and I fear Martin will definitely join The Lonely. I mean, I am surprised he hasn’t done it already, considering he spends most of his time somewhere away from his friends and doesn’t interact with anyone except for Peter.

Also, we have the teaser and that made it clear he will do something to save Jon, so…

Speaking of the statement, it’s from Robert Smirke to Jonah Magnus, so of course it’s full of interesting things and that’s why I will overanalyze the heck of them:

*

1) Hubris is the real enemy

Once again, we have a human who learned about these Powers and thought he could channel and control them.

In Smirke’s case, he saw what he thinks are their truest forms and… honestly? Love that. Powers that are not human-shaped nor purely abstract ideas, but places and areas. It keeps their supernatural aspect, it makes them appear even more inhuman and it gives a clearer image of the fear they represent.

So, by looking at all of this, Smirke’s thought wasn’t “Maybe I should stop eating so much in the evening”, but “Sure, let’s build places to contain and control these Powers”. Hubris >>> Self-preservation, I see.

And considering what he says to Jonah Magnus regarding “their work on Millbank”, I assume the prison was built with the express purpose of channeling The Eye’s power. Then Smirke came to his senses and stopped dealing with this shit, while Jonah Magnus said “why not, let’s keep going”.

Hubris >>> Self-preservation, again.

*

2) Who tf is Scott?

So Maxwell Rayner has been going around for a while, fine. And, according to Robert Smirke’s words, same goes for Lukas (Peter? Or the entire family)... and Scott.

Now, who the fuck is this Scott? Did we already meet him? Do we still have to meet him? I don’t remember any Scott, so maybe he was a past avatar and died?

*

3) A balance of the Dread Powers

It’s implied that, in the past, Smirke thought the Powers could balance each other. Then, this idea was a bit lost, once he realized that the Powers are everchanging, new ones can be born from old ones and a real balance isn’t achievable.

And this makes me think about something I have been mulling over since MAG 135: why do these Powers all aim to make their own ritual? Why don’t they cooperate - at least the ones who don’t opposes each other?

Think about the Dedalus: we had three Powers working together, bringing people into space, planning this huge, cooperative mission… and used it to make their own individual ritual/waste time. Why didn’t they make up a collective ritual, one that could’ve worked for the three of them? Why has no one of these Powers tried to make up a new ritual, one that could work for more than one single Power?

I mean, a collaborative ritual is stronger, because it puts together more than one single Power. And it has more chances to succeed, considering the huge amount of powers, servants and avatars involved. It’s stupid they never tried and just worked by themselves all this time.

Typical Brits, always doing things by themselves :P

Jokes aside, maybe there is a plot-related reason for this lack of collaboration between Powers. And maybe it’s related to the following point:

*

4) The origin of the Dread Powers

I can’t believe it, but Mr. Sims is hinting at the origin story of the Dread Powers. He’s really trying to please me. And he’s succeeding.

I love backstories and origin stories, because they say A LOT about the characters, the plot and the writer. A good backstory is like a good foundation: if it’s stable and coherent, it can hold the story, justify its future development, explain the characters’ personalities/choices, and show all the attention and care of the writer. It’s the most evident proof the story is well made.

So yes, I am more than ready to find out what the real backstory will be and if it works in the TMA scenario.

For now, we have four possible choices and each of them has its own pros, cons and possible developments:

The Powers are eternal

PRO: It makes the TMA world more nihilistic. These supernatural forces have always been part of the multiverse, forever present and forever indifferent. It reinforces the idea of inevitability: humanity can do nothing to escape these fears.

CONS: if these Powers have always been, then why are they so interested in our planet? Do they latch onto every single life form in the multiverse? Or have they been eternally bored, until life appeared on Earth? And speaking of that, what about the animals? Did they appear when animals started to exist or only with humans? Gerry said the Powers take into consideration animals’ fears too (e.g., The Hunt), so they should manifest among animals too. So did they manifest among bacteria, too? Where is the line when the Powers start to take an interest in life?

The Powers are born by accident

PRO: It makes TMA world more tragic. Humanity (or God or whatever) brought this evil on Earth and has to deal with it. Humanity is responsible for its own misery.

However, this scenario offers a possible positive outcome: if the Powers are born by accident, nothing says they cannot be destroyed, too. If humanity somehow created an evil god, humanity can also kill that same god.

CONS: how where they created? If it was an accident, what happened? How did humanity manage to create such powerful forces? Is the process possible to repeat? Is it possible to re-create other Powers? What stops humanity from creating positive forces too, then? Or from destroying these Dread Powers? Is there a formula of some kind? An inverted ritual?

The Powers have been created by God and they’re part of a divine plan

PRO: it connects to my theory about the positive god-like forces. A positive force exists and it has not been shown itself yet.

And what could their divine plan be? To give humanity a choice.

In  this scenario, the Powers work as a substitute of the Devil: they are tempters, liars, deceivers. They trick humanity, they offer gifts that damn people and push them away from humanity. When people are accosted by these forces, they have a choice: they can ran away and learn their lesson, they can resist them or they can fall prey of them. Just like humans with the devil, the decision is up to the individuals. (This would also reconnect to Jon’s talk about choices, btw.)

If we think about the possible future outcomes of this scenario, we can imagine that, just like God made these negative forces, they made positive ones too - and we still have to see them.

CONS: This scenario implies a God of some kind exists and that alone opens a huge can of worms. There would be a trillion questions to answer, starting from “How this God came to be” to “What did this God to, before humanity”.

And if this God made positive Powers too, then why the fuck did they wait the events in the TMA series, before showing up?

The Powers have been brought into existence by some ancient civilisation

PRO: It has some of the same good points of the “creation by accident”, like that humanity is responsible for its own misery - which is one of the most interesting, imho.

It also offers the same possible positive outcome: maybe an ancient civilisation created humanity’s fears, but a more modern one can create humanity’s hopes. That could open a ton of interesting discussions about humanity, how we shape the world, our misery and our nature.

CONS: same as the “creation by accident”. How did an ancient civilisation make these forces? Is there a ritual, a spell to cast? Also, there’s the risk of making everything a bit too “human-centric”, while until now, it seemed more like these Powers were forces of nature who just came in contact with humanity.

*

5) The Watcher’s Crown

Soooo, Smirke’s dream: he gets up, goes out, there is silence, then the sky gave him a wink.

If this is a possible foreshadowing of the Watcher’s Crown, I suppose the Crown is either the entire sky, the universe or the entirety of Earth.

But also, Smirke says to Jonah Magnus “if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work to try and wear the Watcher’s Crown”, which means… this “crown” can be wear.

And yes, sure, “wear the crown” can be metaphorical. Hence why, I really like the idea that the crown is either the sky or the Earth. I mean, just imagine an avatar of The Eye ascending, becoming so powerful that the entire Earth is one huge eye from which they can see everything everywhere. A truly colossal ‘crown’ to wear.

That’s awesome, I fear to see Jon in this scenario.

One last thing: I like how Smirke pleads Jonah Magnus, thinking: “I assume you’re still a normal guy and are not trying to kill me”. But, you know, the previous MAGs made it pretty clear that Jonah Magnus is kind of a bitch. So, who knows? Maybe he really asked The Eye to kill Smirke.

This makes me curious about what happened to Jonah Magnus. Did he die?

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MAG 139 - Chosen

This statement was a beautiful surprise.

I wasn’t particularly interested in Agnes Montague. My thoughts about her were simple: she was the avatar of the Desolation, she was kinda powerful, and she didn’t seem like a bad person. That’s it.

But this recollection of her “creation” and life was truly interesting.

First of all, she wasn’t a normal avatar. She was birthed with a fire ritual to make her the perfect “vessel” for the Lightless Flame (whose real name, I suppose, is Asag). She was literally crafted to become an avatar.

Knowing that, you would expect she was purely supernatural, the messiah these people wanted: someone above humanity, completely detached from any human want or need.

But what Eugene Vanderstock portrays is the image of a normal human child: Agnes was bratty, like any other kid. She even threw the typical temper tantrums of a baby!

Then she grew up and the supernatural part of her started to shine through: she talked about “the Scoured Earth” (which I suppose would’ve been the ritual for The Desolation) and did some avatar stuff (like the creepy ritual with the candles).

However, since she was still a human kid, she was sent out to interact with other kids - and what better place to do that, if not at Hill Top Road, a stronghold of The Web?

My question isn’t why Agnes was sent there. My question is: was the Web an idiot to accept the avatar of a Power that has always given them trouble? Or was it given no other choice? Was it an “accept the girl or we will burn the whole place down” sort of ultimatum?

And what happened at Hill Top Road? Eugene talks about “A scar in reality that I believe has since been compounded by the interferences of other Powers.”. What does that mean? What did Gertrude do? I suppose she stopped the ritual somehow and I’m 99% sure she did it, by throwing some shit in it. Maybe the shit was another Power and that made a huge mess?

Whatever that was, it left the Fire gang waiting. And so they waited and waited… and what did manage to stop their plans altogether?

Let’s all thank Robert Sinclair and his crush on Agnes.

But seriously, this is what makes Agnes’ story even more fascinating.

Agnes was a chosen one. She had a destiny already written for her, she was birthed for one precise purpose. She was supposed to be a messiah, a goddess, detached from what is earthly and material.

But she wasn’t just that. She was human too. And in the end, it was her humanity that took over. Her feelings - no matter if it was affection, doubt or hope. She felt something and that something was enough to not attempt the ritual and die instead.

And she didn’t do it for some supernatural reason, but for the people she cared about. To not let them waste a chance. Until the end, Agnes felt something about others.

What a fascinating character, what an interesting dichotomy. And this makes Jude’s character extremely interesting too! A woman who, like a faithful knight, protects the goddess of their cult - a goddess too might for her, a messiah too high for mere servants like them. And yet, a goddess she loves. A woman she loves. Someone who draws her not just for her role - but for her humanity.

I hope there are great fanfictions about them that explore these contrasting feelings, because I would love to read them.

Glad to know that Jon isn’t the only Archivist who gets death threats all the time: Gertrude got some too. Being an Archivist: what a wonderful, peaceful job.

Jon agrees with me: being the Archivist is truly a fantastic job. Either you get threatened all the time by other servants/avatars, or your boss is going to kill you. And killing is the only thing he does well.

While speaking of the others:

Jon likes this new version of Daisy and I like her too: she’s less of a rabid dog and more of a queen and I stan queens.

Helen is still around! It left a door! The Distortion truly wants to work with them! Now, if only Jon would stop being so grumpy and collaborate, it would be very nice.

Awww, Jon’s worried about Martin! But he’s also trying his best to trust him. Buuuuut he’s also the avatar of a magical know-it-all, so of course he wants to Know everything, Peter’s plan included.

And the way he tried to do it was… interesting. It seems like he put a lot of effort and it’s not clear what happened. Did he succeed? Or is he still too weak to read another avatar’s mind? I suppose so.

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MAG 140 - The Movement of the Heavens

Okay, so Jon wasn’t too weak to pry Peter Lukas’ mind open: he was just overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge. As he said in the previous MAGs, he drowns if he tries to open that door of infinite knowledge, so that’s basically what happened.

Then Basira throws some interesting shit here:

And that’s very interesting, because I was wondering how avatars work.

Jude told us that when you die, you get closer to your god but lose your humanity. So it’s implied that you die but also get a longer life. And we already met very old avatars (see Simon Fairchild) living an extremely long life - longer than any human. But we also met avatars who changed their name during the years (Grimaldi).

So I suppose the rule is: same body same name, different body new name.

And that makes me think about Jonah Magnus: he was touched by The Eye and, according to Smirke, he even wanted to “try and wear the Watcher’s Crown”. So I suppose he was a full avatar - or at least, he was trying very hard to become one.

My question is: did he succeed? If he did, is he still alive? Does he still have his name or did he change it? Only time will tell.

In the meantime, we get to see the wondrous first life of Maxwell Rayner / Edmond Halley that consists mostly of:

quality time with the Royal Society + a side dish of dissing John Flamsteed

quality time with the Dark cult in the woods, to look at a black pool

But since he’s also followed by his enemy, who stalks him 24/7, he ends up being killed. Conveniently drowned in that same black pool. And The Dark’s cult decides that, you know what, let’s not waste a fresh corpse and let’s make him an avatar. Legit.

Oh great, so he didn’t die. I was SO SURE back then that he was still alive, but then they kept repeating he was dead, he died, he was shot, then he disappeared for seasons and I stupidly believed that okay, fine, he was dead.

But nope, he’s not. He’s clearly around, just waiting to find the new body.

By now, the one with the highest count of “dead people who are still dead” is still Elias. Not even the police with all his info managed to do better than him.

And speaking of Elias…

Ahahaha Jon immediately realized Basira’s “sources” is Elias. After all, who is the only bitch who can send Basira on the other side of the globe, just to get rid of her for a while?

So, regarding The Dark:

The Dark gang will attempt the ritual on the North Pole during the winter solstice in order to get maximum darkness

They have their Black Sun, that “eldritch ball of some sort of manifested dark matter”

They’re currently doing their rehearsal in Ny-Alesund

And you know what that means, when there is a ritual and rehearsals: that the ritual is going to be some sort of ceremony. And how do you stop a ritual/ceremony?

My theory is perfect XD

One last thing:

Just a confirmation that The Eye is as useless as Elias and that’s why Elias is its embodiment. I suppose Jonah Magnus was too competent, hence why Elias became The Eye’s favourite.

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In conclusion

It seems an eternity, since my reaction posts were short and funny ah ah silly story little mysteries, let’s see how it goes.

Now we have tons of info, which leads to me making a ton of screenshots and there's always the 30 images limit per post and I need images, because they help me introduce a new topic or explain my silly theories and I have a ton of questions and I want to know everything, and I love everyone, and I want them all to survive.

Moral of the story is: I’m getting attached. I have my favourites, but I appreciate every character - sometimes, there are even secondary characters who sparks my interest out of the blue (see Agnes)! And the plot gives me all I want, from backstories to foreshadowing. Heck, it’s even making my stupid theories somehow canon! What else can I ask?

For now, only that no one dies in the meantime.

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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[moonselune]

HIHI! Huge durge/wyll lover here, could we get a snippet where Wyll and Gortash are maybe, just maaybe fighting over Durge? Or another option, is Wyll’s Father disapproves of his son with a bhaalspawn,..👀👀

stop bcs i made a post about wyll and gortash knowing each other pre tadpole incident and this feeds right into my fantasy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll x Durge | My love, all mine

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The atmosphere in the audience hall of Gortash’s coronation was thick with pride and dark tension, a place where power echoed off every polished stone. As you entered, memories of your past with him lingered, reminders of something twisted and unfinished. Wyll stood beside you, his hand brushing against yours, a gentle anchor to steady your resolve. He knew the weight of your past but not all of its jagged edges—not until Gortash stepped into view, smirking as his gaze landed on you.

“Ah, my dear,” Gortash drawled, his voice slipping easily into a mockery of intimacy, his eyes bright with something cruel. “And look who’s playing hero now. I trust you’re enjoying the, what was it… tender mercies of Baldur’s Gate?” His gaze shifted to Wyll with a knowing smirk. “Oh, and you brought the Blade of Frontiers, of all people. Tell me, Wyll, have you heard the tale of how the two of us… bonded?”

Wyll’s jaw clenched, and you saw the fire flash in his eyes. He held himself in a stony silence, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. He turned to you with a dark brow raised, seeking some explanation, but before you could respond, Gortash took a step closer.

“I know Orin made a mess of the dear one's mind, but after things we did, not even her butchery could make you forget me,” He took your hand in his with that possessive familiarity that made your stomach twist. “After all, we were partners once.”

Wyll’s fist clenched. “You’re truly as repulsive as I remember, Gortash.”

Gortash smirked, unbothered, his eyes lingering on you. “You’re welcome to ask your new friend here. Not everything between us was allies and daggers. And yet, here we are.”

Wyll's jaw clenched even tighter, and it was clear he was fighting every instinct not to reach out and knock that smirk from Gortash’s face. But with the Steel Watch looming behind Gortash, ready to respond to any threat, he restrained himself. You caught his eye, your own confusion muddling with guilt, and Wyll seemed to understand immediately, focusing his wrath on Gortash.

“You think you know them, Gortash? You think I don’t know who they were, the struggles they’ve endured?” He scoffed, folding his arms. “The fact that you even made it this far is astounding to me. Then again, I hear you’ve hardly used merit to climb the ranks.”

Gortash’s amusement only grew, dark and insidious. “Ah, Wyll, still as upright and pretentious as ever. A little more naive, perhaps, given that you’re here with them now. But then again, maybe you’re fond of cleaning up after the messes of people far more capable than yourself.”

Your fingers reached out instinctively to Wyll’s arm, hoping to defuse the mounting tension, but Wyll only shifted forward, his voice deadly calm. “Better to be in their shadow than have to sleep my way through high society to keep a position, Gortash.”

That struck a nerve, and Gortash’s smugness faltered for a fraction of a second, his brow twitching as he forced his smile back into place. Wyll continued, his voice firm, deliberate, and aimed directly at Gortash.

“You can taunt us all you want, but this power you flaunt?” Wyll gestured around. “It’s nothing without trust. And that’s something you’ll never have.”

Before Gortash could respond, Wyll turned to you, his eyes softening, although they still held that fierce, protective glint.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s leave the filth to its castle.”

But as you turned to leave, Gortash’s taunting voice followed, cold and mocking. “Yes, take them, Wyll. Though, I doubt you’ll ever truly fill the role I once did.”

Wyll’s composure broke just enough to where, in one quick movement, he pulled you close and kissed you, his hand curling possessively at the small of your back. The kiss was searing, a bold claim to counter Gortash’s. It left you breathless, your heart hammering as he pulled away, a smirk finally matching Gortash’s appearing on Wyll’s face.

He held your gaze a moment longer, his voice low and unapologetic. “Guess you’ll just have to live with that, Gortash.”

With his arm around you, Wyll led you out, the weight of Gortash’s frustrated stare lingering as you left. Wyll’s face remained set in proud satisfaction, his jaw hard, and his hand was warm, secure against yours. As you stepped away from the hall and Gortash’s shadow, Wyll glanced down at you, his intense expression softening into a gentle, warm smile.

“That…wasn’t too brash, was it?” he murmured, his voice low, cheeks flushed with both adrenaline and a hint of sheepishness. You couldn’t help but grin.

“No, not brash at all,” you replied, still feeling the lingering fire from that kiss, one that spoke louder than any words he could have said.

Wyll chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Good. Because you’re mine. And I’m not sharing—not with anyone, least of all him.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

OooOOooo sassy wyll my beloved <3 Hope everyone had a great halloween, i am editing/posting this ever so slightly hungover hehe. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[boushwrites]

✨️

Spirituality has always been my anchor, my constant through time. It grounds me when I feel unsteady, slows me when I rush, and brings me back when I lose my way. It reshapes my vision when I’m too focused on the details, soothes my soul when it feels lost, and fills me with faith that everything good or bad is unfolding in my favour, always. Even if my limited perspective can't grasp it now, one day, I will see the bigger picture and find peace in it.

And then, there is faith my unwavering faith, the divine force that never lets me lose myself, no matter what. The positive voice in my head that catches me before I fall into my own darkness every single time. It saves me, nourishes my soul with strength, and reminds me: Boushra, whatever happens is always in your favor. Every event in these 26 years, every missed opportunity, every closed door, every failure, it all belonged exactly where it did. What was meant for you found you, even that tiny needle's stitch, and what wasn’t never could, rest.

Faith reassures me that no different choice would have rewritten my fate. Every decision right or wrong, good or bad, was the best I could make in that moment, with the mindset, the state, emotions, and circumstances I had at the time. I see things differently now because I am a different person now. The person I am today sees clearer, understands more, chooses better, and carries forward the wisdom of every single experience, I wouldn't be the woman that is admired by those around her today, without it all.

And so, faith and spirituality remain my anchors. They keep me standing, unashamed, with no regrets at all, only pride in the journey that has shaped me because I acknowledge the role of everything in shaping me.

This is how I'm winning my battle with overthinking and so, the resulting anxiety.

I always wanted to transmit this spirituality to people I care about, to help them see the peace and certainty it brings. To show them that even in the most painful moments, there is meaning, there is guidance, and there is always something greater at work. But faith is a journey one must take on their own, in their own time. All I can do is embody this blessing and trust that whoever is meant to understand and find it will.

SB ♡

Credits of the personal text and picture of my lovely algiers to me.

[glazesunflower]

may i ask for some dating headcannons with focalors the hydro archon? :3

Dating Furina/Focalors Headcanons

Characters: Furina/Focalors x GN!Reader.

Warnings: None that apply!

Notes: I was waiting to play the first Fontaine Archon Quest to get a grasp of her character before writing this. I have to say, I absolutely love this gremlin and bratty Archon. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. (The last ones are my favorite <3)

Furina is flamboyant, imprudent and she lives for the thrill of the drama and the validation of those around her, so you’ll have to be very understanding and patient with her and the fair amount of mishaps that she will surely cause. So be prepared!

.

She doesn’t really voice it, she’s too proud for that, but she absolutely loves the way you’ve become her anchor, helping to balance out her impulsive nature with your calm and understanding demeanor. When she's on the brink of making a hasty decision, you're there to gently guide her, reminding her to consider all perspectives and consequences before acting. And she takes your advice to heart, be proud of that!

.

She struggles internally a lot with the pressure of her public image. Of course, she doesn’t say this directly to you, but you can see how it affects her, and so you write for her heartfelt letters whenever she's facing a tough situation. She doesn’t really make much of a fuss about them, but internally your words of encouragement and reminders of her strengths become her source of comfort, and she rereads them many more times than she’s willing to admit. She even has a special box where she keeps them all. But don’t ask her about it!

.

But it’s not all sappy stuff, your relationship with her is very adventurous and fun! Furina absolutely loves a good thrill and an outstanding performance in everything she does, so you’re of course expected to tag along in all of her endeavors. Whether it's exploring a new case that’s just taken place, trying out quirky local restaurants, or taking impromptu road trips through Fontaine, you both find joy in the thrill of the new things you try together!

.

Furina absolutely thrives on positive attention and affirmation. She is always very touched by your heartfelt compliments and words of encouragement (she probably won’t say it, mind you, but she would engrave your words in her mind to always come back to them). Express your admiration for her skills, charisma, and unique qualities and Furina will glow, feeling appreciated and loved. Keep them coming, she can’t get enough!

.

After some time of her being with you, Furina will slowly (and I mean, very slowly) feel comfortable enough with letting her guard down around you. And that is no easy feat! She’s constantly thinking that she will be judged by whatever she says wrong, so you should feel immensely lucky that she’s willing to trust you with her innermost turmoils! (Her words.) In time, you create a safe space where she can express her insecurities without fear of judgment, because you’re kind like that and you love her. You encourage Furina to have a ton of heartfelt conversations, and slowly you help her understand that she doesn't have to be perfect to be loved. It’s still a work in progress, but she’ll get there.

.

Furina is a sucker for gifts. After all, what better way for others to express their admiration for her, right? But the ones she loves the most are yours, of course. The gifts and tokens of your affection hold special meanings, since you picked them out knowing she’d like them. Like a charm to remind her of her resilience or a piece of art that reflects her flamboyant personality and you thought, “Oh, this reminds me of her!”. Keep doing that. She can’t get enough of it.

.

Knowing how much she loves and treasures positive attention, you organize surprise events or gatherings to celebrate Furina’s accomplishments, no matter how small they are. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it (She deserves all the praise and attention, after all!), but you see the brightest smile dancing on her lips the whole day, and that’s how you see how much she values these moments. These thoughtful gestures show Furina that you genuinely appreciate her efforts and want to support her in all aspects of her life. She will try even harder this time, if only for you to praise her more.

.

Your relationship with her is also full of laughter. You tease each other constantly, at all times, sharing inside jokes, and find humor in the quirks of everyday life together. Furina knows you have an ability to make her smile even in challenging times and she silently appreciates you so much for her. Still, you tease her too much. And she is the embodiment of the divine, she can’t have you teasing her in public!

.

With the passing of the time by your side (and I mean, at a very slow pace!), Furina starts to overcome her need for constant validation from others. She slowly becomes more confident in her abilities in the court and outside of it, and she learns to embrace her imperfections (her impulsivity, childlike temper, the constant bravado and drama, the list goes on!), understanding that you love her for who she truly is. Really, how could you not? She’s impressive and heavenly! It’s only natural you’re head over heels and completely in love with her! (She’s working on her arrogance, too).

.

Furina loves the spotlight more than anything else in the world (well, she only likes you more, and that’s saying something!), so sometimes you plan extravagant date nights that cater to her love for the spotlight. Whether it's a private outdoor performance under the stars or a playful evening of reenacting dramatic scenes from her favorite plays, you keep the excitement alive for her. And she thrives in every minute of it.

.

When it comes to physical touch, Furina is by far not used to it at the very beginning, so she’s fairly unsure when it comes to it. But she’s quick to realize that your gentle pats on her back, walking around with linked arms, or even a reassuring touch on her shoulder during moments of stress in the courtroom make her feel so much better instantly! Is this some kind of heavenly magic? 

.

Furina quickly starts to associate your touch with positive emotions. Holding hands with you during a thrilling adventure or wrapping an arm around your waist while watching a dramatic play becomes something she really, really likes doing. 

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And when you introduce cuddling to her, Furina finds a whole new world to explore and enjoy. Whether it's lounging on your couch or stargazing, Furina wants to be in your arms at all times, if she has any say in the matter! Let her nuzzle into your neck and stay there for a while, she feels the safest she’s ever felt.

.

Furina enjoys your touch very much. She does not enjoy, however, how you playfully tease her with light touches, tickles, and gentle bumps! She’s the embodiment of justice, you can’t just have her wiggling and choking on laughter beneath you, how unsightly! (She absolutely loves it).

.

Furina has associated your touch with comfort and safety, so don’t be surprised when she comes to you after an especially hard day. Yes, she messed up in the courtroom today, but you’ll let her rest against you, won’t you? Your hugs and embraces become her safe haven. Sometimes she will open up and admit what happened that day. Others, she simply wants to enjoy your arms holding her tight in silence. In either case, she deeply appreciates you being there for her. She won’t voice it, of course, but you’ll know in the way she presses her forehead closer to you and the angle of your neck.

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She also finds that physical touch is very useful! She starts using her own touch on you as a way to express her emotions. A soft kiss on your cheek in the morning, a warm hug after a long day, or even a surprise tackle or an affectionate nudge as you tease each other becomes her way of saying "I care about you" without needing dramatic and flamboyant words. How practical! She will keep showering you with her divine affection for many more years to come!

.

Having Furina as a significant other is no easy feat, it takes a lot of courage, determination, and most of all, a big amount of patience and understanding. Still, she is the most vibrant and colorful part of your life, so you wouldn’t have it any other way. With her, you become her partner in both the thrilling moments and the challenges of her life. Your love and support help her navigate her insecurities and embrace her true self, helping to nurture a romance that's passionate and tender and all the beautiful things in between.

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[fairyminnie444]

Please help me. I have been a good believer of the law of assumption and I have been able to bring unbelievable things to my life. However, for some reason, it seems that I can never manifest anything related to MONEY purely. At this point in my life, I really need it. And I mean like I find it so hard to believe money could just appear in my account. But that is literally what I need right now. Please help me, what could I do to help me get over this?

I understand your frustration, it can feel especially challenging to manifest something like money when you’re in a position of needing it urgently. Let’s break this down to help you shift your mindset and unlock the abundance you seek.

Why It Feels Harder to Manifest Money

1. Deep Conditioning Around Money

Society has ingrained beliefs that money must be “earned” through hard work or that it’s “hard to come by.” These beliefs might still linger in your subconscious, creating resistance.

2. Pressure and Urgency

When you need something urgently, it can create a feeling of lack or desperation. This emotional state can block the manifestation because you’re focused on the absence of money rather than its presence.

3. Believability

If you find it hard to believe that money can “just appear,” your mind may reject affirmations or visualizations, making it harder to align with the reality where money flows effortlessly.

How to Shift Your Beliefs and Manifest Money

Here’s what you can do to dissolve resistance and make money manifestations easier:

1. Reframe Your Beliefs About Money

Start reshaping your perspective on money. Remind yourself:

• Money is energy, not a limited resource.

• It flows to you as easily as air or water.

• Money doesn’t have to come from hard work—it can come through unexpected channels.

Affirmations to Use:

• “Money loves me and flows to me effortlessly.”

• “I am magnetic to financial abundance.”

• “I always have more than enough money for everything I desire.”

2. Focus on Abundance, Not Lack

When you’re stressed about needing money, you’re focusing on its absence. Shift your focus to feeling abundant. Imagine the relief and joy of already having the money.

Exercise:

• Close your eyes and imagine checking your bank account. See the exact number you desire. Feel the excitement, relief, and gratitude. Repeat this visualization daily until it feels natural.

3. Start “Small” (If Necessary)

If manifesting a large sum feels too unbelievable, start with smaller amounts. Once you see success, it’ll boost your confidence for bigger manifestations.

Example:

• Imagine someone gifting you $50. Feel the gratitude for this small win. Gradually increase the amount in your visualizations.

4. Detach From the “How”

One of the biggest blocks in manifesting money is trying to figure out how it will come. Release this need and trust that it will show up in ways you might not expect.

Example Thought Process:

• “I don’t need to know how the money will come. It’s already on its way to me, and I trust the process.”

5. Celebrate Every Sign of Abundance

Gratitude is a powerful magnet for money. Celebrate even small financial wins or gifts—it shows the universe you’re open to receiving.

Exercise:

• Keep a journal and write down every instance of abundance: found coins, discounts, free items, or unexpected income.

6. Release Resistance and Let Go

After affirming and visualizing, let go of the need to control or obsess over the outcome. Trust that the money is already yours.

Mantra to Use:

• “It’s already done. I trust the process.”

7. Use Anchors for Believability

If you find it hard to believe in “money appearing out of nowhere,” anchor it to a realistic scenario that makes it feel more natural.

• For example: “I might receive an unexpected refund, a gift, or someone may offer me a financial opportunity.”

This doesn’t limit possibilities but helps your subconscious accept the idea of money arriving.

Suggested Action Plan

1. Spend 5–10 minutes daily visualizing your bank account with the desired balance. Feel the relief and joy as if it’s already there.

2. Use affirmations throughout the day to reinforce abundance.

3. Write down all your abundance wins to shift your focus to gratitude.

4. Relax, let go of the “how,” and trust the process.

You’ve already proven to yourself that the Law of Assumption works—this is no different. Shift your energy from desperation to trust and abundance. The more you relax and feel that it’s already done, the faster money will flow to you.