#In other news our relationship with our mother has gone back to tumultuous again

[janebonbon]

Officially about 2 weeks before I move! I've been tied up from drawing making sure everything is taken care of as things go down to the wire! But I'm hoping to post some doodles I'm wanting to do in my down-time.

I'm very excited for this change, even if this change has had many ripples of changes in our personal life. Exhausting changes! I think I can speak for everyone when I say that everyone in the system is very tired! But the change is so worth it. Thank you to my dear patient followers! A bit of a sketch for you, as a treat. I'm happy to be settled back from moving very soon!

[writing-in-april]

Postmarked In The Past

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader

Summary: After sixteen years of no contact Reader reconnects with Spencer because she has to reveal the secret she’s been keeping since she stopped sending letters to him.

A/N: Hey heyyy! This is my sixteenth fic (it’s actually was totally unintentional to choose the 16th for this fic even though the daughter is 16 in this fic lol 😂) for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one is based off of this request and is part of my unlinked Spencer Reid & Letters series! Thanks for all the love and support lately- I was going to put out my plan for my 1500 follower celebration yesterday or today but if you saw my post I’ve been struggling so it’ll probably come on the 19th or the 20th. Submit an ask here- I love hearing from everyone 🥰Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Reader keeps a huge secret she definitely shouldn’t have, Reader is a single mother-the daughter doesn’t have a specified name but she is specified to be 16, Reader is very defensive when her daughter finds the letters, mentions of a one night stand

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer had been a bright spot in my life, one that had been snuffed out all because of me. When I had found myself pregnant with his child, after I had visited him once, I bolted. For a long time I justified my actions, saying to myself that it was better that Spencer was unburdened while his career was just starting out. But, deep down I knew how wonderful Spencer would have been as a father, how he would have moved heaven and earth to make everything work. And, that guilt haunted me.

The memories I had of him were so far in between, every moment with him had been so fleeting at the end. I struggled to sometimes even remember how he looked as it had been sixteen years since I last laid eyes on him.

I had to strain my memory to remember the way his gelled hair curled around his ears and how sometimes I saw him let the curls free only around me. His eyes had been brown, I could remember that. But, pinpointing what shade they were when they glinted in the light or were drenched in the shadows was lost to me. I knew he had been tall and lanky, his hands reflecting that with how spindly they were. To remember how those fingers had felt on my skin, or how his lips had marked me, or how he would gently stroke my hair was too difficult. Whether it was because I couldn’t remember or that I didn’t want to, it was just too hard for me to want to try to strain my memory anymore.

The labor had been the most difficult thing I had gone through, no one had been there to hold my hand. And, I didn’t really want anybody else except Spencer holding it. I had gritted my teeth and accepted it, pushing through the physical and emotional pain, especially since the pain of losing Spencer had been entirely because of me. I had been given a beautiful baby daughter that day and it was then that I started to force myself to forget Spencer, she looked too much like him to be able to bear.

The only things that remained in my life that involved him were the letters I sent to him in the last year of our relationship while we were long distance and my daughter. The letters were able to be shoved in a box at the bottom of a closet, but my daughter confronted me with my actions everyday by existing. I loved my daughter very much, I just tried to avoid the topic of her father by concocting a lie and making myself forget all of Spencer’s features so I wouldn’t see them as much in her. My nightmare would be the two things converging to confront me with my guilt, I don’t think I could handle that.

—-

At the kitchen table I saw my daughter, holding a letter. Her holding a letter wasn’t at its core a bad thing of course, but I could tell by the slight yellowing of the paper that it was getting old. Immediately panic spread through me; there were no other old letters she’d be looking at besides mine, the ones I sent to Spencer.

“Those are private.” I snapped defensively, definitely too hostile to be reasonable. It was obvious by my tone of voice that I was hiding something.

“Private?!” She yelled, giving away that she had already read at least a few of them. I clenched my eyes shut to prepare for her question, “Are these from my father?! Who you said was a one night stand?!” I vividly remember explaining the lie I had concocted for her, her being confused why I would only be with her father once. It was a hard subject to dance around, a difficult lie for me and her to swallow. But, the alternative was too painful for me to be honest with her, or honest with Spencer. And, I knew it made me selfish, at the time it had been so Spencer wouldn’t stop his blossoming career. With time I realized that I really had done it because I had been scared. The guilt had started to sting worse when I realized that.

I had been caught, there was no weaseling out of this. I hanged my head in defeat, finally admitting to the large lie I had even roped the rest of my family in, “Yes.”

If she had been a dragon she’d be breathing fire on me while she spoke, “And why would you keep this from me! Did he do something bad or something?! Is that why you didn’t tell me?!”

“No-I-“ I stammered a few times until I found the words, “I- I did it because I didn’t want to hold him back… We were so young, and I knew he’d quit his new job across the country to come back to me.” Keeping the details still vague was my only armor right now. I kept to myself how those letters were the way we communicated for months when he started in the academy. We were only able to meet up once a month, and one month I unexpectedly fell pregnant. I never sent another letter or came to visit him again once I found out.

She clenched her jaw at me, looking back down at the scores of letters that we had written, and I had hidden. Her next question now made me clench my jaw, “C-can I see him? Or call him? Or send him a letter?” If you don’t know how to contact him anymore I’m sure we can-“

I was nervous as to where this was going. There was no way I could contact Spencer again after all these years, the guilt already ate at me everyday. Seeing and remembering his face would only make it worse. Fear was fueling me and I cut her off because of it, “No- I- I don’t think it’s a good idea...I just need more time- until I’m ready.” I started to shrink away from her, my authority slipping through my fingers as I became more and more vulnerable.

“You’ve waited sixteen years, you’ll never be ready.” The spite in her voice was stinging, she wasn’t completely wrong in her statement.. And when I didn’t answer she then stormed away, slamming the door to her room.

——

Our relationship in the few weeks following was strained at best, estranged at worse. She barely spoke to me since then, the biggest conversation we had was about what was for dinner- and that had been about two sentences long.

I was slowly coming around to the idea of perhaps finding a way for her and Spencer to reconnect. The guilt that I had been so afraid of becoming worse if I confronted it head on, only grew worse by avoiding it. I was actually going to talk to her after I got home from work, until I realized what she did.

She left her own letter on the table titled Dear Mom, detailing where she was going without giving any specifics. There was one part that gave her reasoning for writing her plan down, she didn’t want me to have a heart attack even if she was mad at me. Plus there were a few sentences about how she had used her own money that she had been saving up, which was supposed to be for college only serving to make you even more frustrated. At the bottom she wrote- I’m going to find my Dad, please don’t follow me or call the police.

I scoffed to myself, wondering if she expected her warning to not to follow her to be followed. Of course I was going to follow her, there was no way I was going to just let her go off on her own like that.

It wouldn’t be too hard to find her. Spencer may have changed apartments since then, but one quick google search of news articles he was mentioned in showed me that he still worked at the BAU in Quantico. It was probably a safe bet that my daughter did the same thing and was planning on visiting him at his office.

The plane ride there had been tumultuous, not in the sense that there was any chaotic occurrence or severe turbulence on the plan, more like in my mind. My hands shook, my foot tapped, and my mind raced while I took the long flight from Las Vegas all the way to Quantico. My mind went round in circles whether or not I viewed Spencer meeting my daughter- our daughter as a good thing. It was difficult to accept that even though they’d both most likely be mad at me, they deserved to meet. Especially since I knew how good of a father Spencer could potentially be. Once I had landed I didn’t stop, getting a cab straight from the airport to where the BAU offices were located.

The building looked daunting in front of me. It wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, but the task that I was here to do was so big it felt like one as I stared at it while trying to work up the courage to go in. The guilt however, was too hard to ignore.

My mind was on autopilot as I told the secretary at one of the front desks. It was too stressful to focus on worrying, so exhausted from the emotional roller coaster I was riding. An agent had assured me that she was safe which made some of the stress melt from my shoulders luckily.

“Here she is.” The agent gestured to the office, empty of any other person except my daughter. I felt even more relieved now that I saw her with my own eyes.

When I entered she waited a second before speaking timidly with disappointment, “He’s not here, he's on a case.” Her demeanor had deflated almost immediately as she saw me escorted up.

“Who told you that?” My arms crossed around my chest, nervous and furious all at once. I didn’t need to tell my daughter how in trouble she was, by the pout on her face she knew she’d be getting grounded for a long time even if I did let her talk to him.

“This nice lady named Garcia, she works with him. But, she did tell me I had to wait for you until she called him” For the first time since I had read her letter to me I cracked a smile. When we had still been communicating, Spencer often wrote and spoke about his teammates. Besides a fleeting photo of the team shown to me by him while I had been over here visiting, all my perceptions of the team and how they might look were all based on my imagination.

Despite that, when a vibrantly dressed woman clicked her heels into the room, I knew it was her. Spencer had perfectly described her, shining bright compared to the dull colors of the bureau’s office.

“So your Spencer’s baby mama.” Yep, she was definitely as blunt and beautiful as Spencer had described. I blanched at her comment, though I didn’t deny it, which was all she needed to know to confirm.

“Can you give me his number?” I skittered past the question, not wanting to confirm it out loud.

She beamed brightly at me, already starting to punch in the numbers with the phone on the desk in front of me. “You can call him now if you want on this phone, they just stopped working for the day.”

When she handed me the phone, it had already started ringing. I couldn’t help but panic, almost refusing the phone until my daughter nudged me forward to grab it. My finger trembled severely as I wrapped my hands around the phone, but I still managed to hold on to bring it up to my ear just as someone picked up the phone.

“Hello?” It was him, he sounded so similar to the boy you knew, that boy was a man now. He sounded more haggard compared to sixteen years ago; I wondered what all had happened since then.

“Hey- Spencer it’s me.” By the hitch in his voice that came through the speaker, he knew who it was.

At first I heard nothing from him, only some rustled feedback in the speaker. My shoulders were practically at my ears now afraid he might hang up. He did eventually stumble out a greeting, “H-hi? Why are you calling me after all these years- aaand on a phone at my work?”

“I’ve got to be honest with you,” I cryptically answered with an evident shake in my voice. I was biting my nails now, not caring if I chipped the polish on them. My daughter grabbed my hand to comfort me even though she was probably still furious at me which helped coax out my next statement, “cause I haven’t told you why I stopped talking to you…” I breathed in deeply once before I finally admitted the secret I had held for so many years, “Spencer, you have a daughter, she just turned sixteen.”

Dead silence was all I got, that was until I heard a choked out sob from him, “Why?”

He didn’t need to elaborate any further, it was quite clear what he was asking. Again another meek shaky reply came from me, “There were a lot of reasons- the main one was I didn’t want to hold you back.”

My daughter was now crying as was I, I hadn’t given her my reasoning until now. Maybe one day I’d give Spencer all the reasons why I had hidden it from him for so many years even though it was painful. I had held a lot of guilt about not ever contacting him again or even sending another letter. Spencer deserved to know everything, especially about his daughter who was the spitting image of him in almost every way.

“Can I talk to her?” I agreed, which seemed to surprise my daughter. I think she thought I’d be furious enough with her to not let her speak to him. She would still be getting many privileges taken away from her, just not this one as it was my fault she never knew her father in the first place. My fingers shook even more as I moved to click the speaker button so he could hear her speak.

“Hi- dad.” They spoke for a while, while I took the back seat, barely interjecting. They both deserved every ounce of father and daughter time that I had deprived them from throughout the years. My chest did feel lighter now that I had told him, now that my daughter was getting the chance to know him. Hearing them laugh and giggle with each other almost immediately only cemented how much she was her father’s daughter.

When the phone was handed back to me, after seemingly hours of talking (Garcia had even popped in a few times to get me more coffee) Spencer asked,“Can you stay in Quantico till I get back?”

I smiled, happy that I’d finally be able to see and remember his face again after all this time, “We’ll be here waiting, it’s time you meet your daughter in person.”

Ask Me Anything

—

Tag lists (fill out this form to join): If your url has a strike through it means tumblr won’t let me tag you- check in your settings if you allow yourself to be searchable

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

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Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fluff fics about Spencer and letters): @whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

[humans4vampires]

1938 Debut

So, my Secret Santa for @teamlesbianbella​ turned into something way more than I anticipated! Your very frequent asks have now been answered. For your reading pleasure, I give you another short from Rosalie. And before I get the pitchforks and torches at my inbox requesting more, you should know, I am totally working on more as we speak. 

I love you all and so appreciate your love for me. Enjoy the read and please do tell me what you think! Any requests of what else you’d like to see in this series would be wonderful guidance.

If you’re reading this series of mine for the very first time - or just want quick access to the first short - you can click this link right here: 1977 Homecoming

1938 Debut

“You’re a vision, darling,” Carlisle beamed, a hand extended toward me as I moved to greet him at the base of the stairs. Our hands met and he twirled me gently to admire my dress. I was glad French fashion was on the decline; the hemlines and necklines were quite a bit more conservative than that of the 20’s, and I’d only experienced that decade as a child. I had never had the chance to flatter my figure with such a silhouette. I turned to face the gilded mirror on the wall.

“It’s perfect, Carlisle,” I smiled. “Thank you.”

We both stood in front of our reflections, wide smiles gracing our perfect faces. I swayed softly, urging the delicate, aubergine satin to ripple with the movement. I admired each detail; the way the supple satin melted to my curves, how the translucent chiffon ruffled tenderly across the dramatic swoop of the sweetheart neckline and over my exquisite shoulders. My golden hair was pinned up in intricate swirls, leaving my décolletage exposed. I ran a finger over my collarbones in a swift line. I’d never seen anything more beautiful and elegant. Was it vain to think it so?

“Perhaps,” Edward was suddenly beside us in the mirror’s reflection. “Even if it is true.”

His tone, as always, was glib. But his expression seemed sincere. Carlisle turned to him, an ever-hopeful smile budding on his lips. Edward did not turn to meet his gaze. His eyes remained locked on mine. A handsome crooked smile crossed his expression as he opened a flat, velvet box.

“I thought this might suit you,” Edward shrugged lightly. We were still watching each other in the reflection. I gazed down at the exquisite string of pearls he held in his hands.

I met his amber eyes again, Your mother’s pearls?

Edward nodded, hearing my unspoken words. “A gift, if you’ll accept?”

My expression matched my disbelief and Edward laughed. The sound was warm and enticing. His eyes were gentle when he spoke.

“Something this beautiful deserves to be worn,” he said simply. “They were not created to stay shut up in a box.”

Though I would never voice it, Edward was incredibly thoughtful. Somehow, I felt it was beyond his gifts; as if he would have done this had he not been able to read my mind. Despite our often tumultuous relationship, I was grateful for my brother. Though, I’d never voice it.

He laughed again as he read back each of my thoughts. Edward handed the box to Carlisle and removed the pearls, holding them up with a questioning expression. I nodded once and turned my attention back to my own reflection. I refocused my thoughts on myself as he moved to clasp the pearls around my neck. I was distracted when our eyes met, amber to amber, in the mirror again.

“Thank you,” I said softly. I was amazed at the intensity of emotion that was evident in my voice.

Edward nodded, smiling again his beautiful, crooked smile in acknowledgement. A distant crack of thunder rolled miles away, the flash of the lightning passing through the panes of the window at the same moment, pulling our attention to the sound of the storm.

“It’s getting closer,” Carlisle noted. “Do you think it will make landfall?”

Edward shrugged, “Improbable. I’ve heard it’s curving toward the sea.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Carlisle agreed. “A storm hasn’t landed in Massachusetts in nearly the last century.”

“Though, we should consider that it has already made a strange and unexpected new course up the parallel of the Eastern Atlantic Coast,” I added.

Another crash of thunder seemed to affirm my comment. We were each calculating the distance of the storm when Esme made her entrance. Still deep in thought, Carlisle turned to greet her, as if on instinct. Their eyes met and broke Carlisle’s concentration. Esme glided down the stairs, her deep blue dress dancing around her as she moved to Carlisle’s side. I was sure Edward could feel it too; it was as if the atoms in the air were charged with a new electricity, as if some sort of strange magnetism collided between Carlisle and Esme as they reunited. They kissed tenderly. My eyes flitted to Edward and away in an instant.

I tried to stop my incessant thoughts of love, but it was difficult when the pinnacle of devotion was flaunted in front of me. Not that it bothered me. No, rather it teased me, giving me hope that there was still that kind of affection waiting for me. But it scared me, too. What if I never found it? What if I missed it somehow? What if I was destined to find it some millennia from now? If I had just this one hope for happiness in this never-ending, never-changing eternity, how was I to live not knowing if it was just a futile prayer?

I felt a rush of embarrassment as I thought of the fleeting wish that often crossed my mind: If only Carlisle had been right, how satisfying it would have been to have come into this new life to find my truest love. He thought me destined for Edward. Carlisle thought only of our intended happiness; two beautiful souls plucked from their bright futures like stars streaming across the night sky, only to burn too fast, too hot, meeting their untimely deaths. It would have made for a perfect love story… if only he’d been right.

Edward pretended he hadn’t heard my thoughts. I sighed, taking his arm that he had extended out to me.

“Shall we go then?” Edward raised his brows. I cleared my throat, joining Edward in his taunt to our parents. We made a show of averting our eyes.

They separated themselves then, Esme fixing her lipstick before she slid on her gloves. “Yes, thank you, Edward.” She said, sheepishly.

We left the house with inhuman speed as we rushed through the rain to the carriage house. Of course, carriages were long-gone and ours was the home of our –well, my– treasured 1937 Cadillac Fleetwood Series 75. Edward held the door for me as I slid across the leather seat of the back row. Esme joined me before Carlisle and Edward moved to sit in the front seat. As always, I was disappointed that I would not be driving. I hoped desperately that the future decades would give women more social liberties. How was it that it was uncouth for a woman to drive in the company of men? I knew more about cars and mechanics than any man.

Edward looked at me through the reflection in the rear-view. “You can drive us home.”

I smiled widely in acknowledgment.

Edward started the car and the pleasing rumble changed his expression. A smug smile bent my expression.

“I’m impressed,” he said, assessing the improvements I had made to the engine. “Tell me what you did.”

We carried on the conversation as he drove us deeper into the city. The streets were nearly flooded with the deluge of rain, yet Edward expertly drove at top-speed until we had reached The Copley Plaza. It was strange; I felt a pang of anxiousness as we pulled into the line of cars waiting for the valet. I tugged at the finger tips of my gloves, fidgeting with my growing discomfort as we came closer to the grand, red awnings of the hotel.

Esme placed a hand over both of mine and turned to face me. “Sweetheart,” she murmured. “Don’t be nervous. You have exceptional self-control.”

Carlisle turned in his seat, facing me, too. “We’ll be with you every moment,” he assured me. “But if you’re not ready, I understand. Edward can take you home—”

I shook my head quickly to reject him, “Of course not.” I stopped my nervous motions and squared my shoulders. “I’m more than ready.”

I saw my reflection in my father’s eyes. Suddenly, I saw the earnestness that was always there in his amber eyes echoed in my own. The same compassion for mortality was present in me. I was certain I would make it through my first human event without any catastrophes – or casualties. In many ways, this night felt like my debut into society.

I’d not been out for a formal event since my engagement party. My human memories of the experience were fading, which was a welcomed reprieve. It would be nice to replace those thoughts with what was to come. I was eager to get out and interact with people again. Though I’d had many chaperoned trips out of the house for practice, I’d not yet been so openly exposed to so many humans at once. This was the trial my family was eager for me to overcome. I put a determined look on my face to match my internal resolve. Carlisle turned back in his seat as the valet opened our doors.

The rush of air from the outside brought with it the strong scent of fresh, pulsating blood. The young valet extended his hand to me, too focused on the umbrella in his other hand to really see me. I was grateful for the barrier of our gloves between his skin and mine as he helped me from the car. I didn’t have the mental capacity to worry about such things; I was intoxicated by his scent. Humans smelled even more delicious in the rain. There was something about the way their blood blitzed in their bodies to keep them warm. I took a deep breath, soaking in his scent, his heat, as he pulled me closer. He looked down at me then, and his breathing halted. He stumbled back on his feet a bit and struggled to keep the umbrella above both our heads.

In an instant, I imagined pulling him even closer, gliding my hands over his crisp, white collar and guiding my lips toward his neck. He wouldn’t fight, I was sure of it. It was something he was wishing for, in fact. It would be simple and quick. Without even the chance to scream, his blood would be pooling in my mouth, his life in my hands. In the same moment, I pushed the thought away in disgust.

The boy watched me as I pondered his death, though the expression on his face was not frightened. He was… enamored. His heart fluttered frantically as he unconsciously moved closer to me. Ah, what a simple fool he was.

“There are more cars, Elliott!” Someone yelled, pulling the boy’s attention away. “Don’t stand there flirting!”

The boy, Elliott, turned from me to hide his blush. I could taste the heat of it on my tongue. Elliott led me to the safety of the awning, bringing me in clear view of the other men waiting there. I basked in their envious glances at Edward as he moved to take my arm. They watched me with awestruck eyes. Carlisle and Esme took the lead ahead of us into the bright and glittering lobby.

The room was opulent, rich with marble and stately chandeliers and by all accounts, imposing. But all eyes were on me; it was as if the world had stopped as we walked on. Every woman was full of envy, every man overwhelmed by my beauty. I assessed their glances, doubting that I had the power to draw everyone’s attention on my own. Because of course, my family was beautiful, too. But as if by some divine right, I knew their eyes were on me. I knew in that instant that my vanity would keep these humans alive. I far favored their adoration over their blood. After all, they couldn’t look at me this way when they were dead.

Edward sighed loudly.

I pouted, my high being clouded by his judgment.

“Stay out of my head,” I said too quickly for human ears.

“I wish I could,” he retorted.

Carlisle sighed then. “Behave,” he scolded.

“There our children are,” Esme chided. “I wondered how long it would last.”

Edward and I chuckled as we continued across the lobby.

“Carlisle,” a man called. “Carlisle, come meet Dr. Williams!”

We followed Carlisle as he approached a small group of older, balding men and their richly dressed wives.

“George, you must meet Carlisle,” the man said. “Dr. Cullen is extraordinary for such a young surgeon.”

“John,” Carlisle smiled, shaking his hand. “I hope you’re not boasting.”

I tuned out then, letting my eyes wander the room. I met a few pairs of glaring eyes, which pleased me, but I was more focused on the weather. Despite the heavy magnitude of the structure around us, I could easily hear the storm raging outside. The rain pelted the windows so loudly that I was surprised that the humans seemed unaware. Thunder droned on and on, the occasional bolt of lightning bursting its brightness across the marble floor. I turned to the grandfather clock I heard strumming across the room and counted the thrums; one, two, three o’clock.

“My wife Esme,” Carlisle’s voice caught my attention again. “And her brother,” he added.

“Edward Masen,” Edward introduced himself. “A pleasure.”

“And is this your lovely bride?” John questioned, still shaking Edward’s hand, his eyes on me.

“Rosalie Cullen, sir,” I said gently, extending my hand, removing the glove. “Edward kindly agreed to be my escort for the evening.”

John took my hand, kissing it lightly as Carlisle continued the charade. “My niece, from New York.”

John reacted to my cold touch, but passed the thought quickly. He nodded politely, his heart stuttering. “A pleasure,” he blushed.

“Edward, make your way into the ballroom,” Carlisle said, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket. “We won’t be far behind.”

Edward nodded, accepting the paper invitation from Carlisle’s hands. He handed it to me as he turned to the group and greeted them. “Gentlemen,” Edward said, pulling me away.

Finally, I thought.

Edward hummed in agreement. I looked down at the invitation in my hand as Edward walked with me. The paper was thick, expensive. The Great Depression was only a myth to those in this room. The invitation read:

The pleasure of your company is requested at the

3rd Annual Gala

to benefit

St. Peter’s Hospital

Wednesday, the twenty-first of September

Nineteen hundred and thirty-eight

at half past three o’clock

The Oval Room

The Copley Plaza

138 St. James Avenue

Boston, Massachusetts

Edward and I made our way through the large ballroom, passing a waiter on our way in. We each took a glass of champagne to stand on the perimeter of the room near the large, arched windows. We stood idly, making effort to take sips from our crystal flutes, sway, brush a stray hair away; we were playing human. Though it was so obvious we were anything but. I found myself raptured by my reflection again in the rain-soaked window beside me. In that same moment, the crushing blow of water on glass turned both my head and Edward’s.

It seemed to catch us both off-guard, the sound of rushing water on pavement. It was clear that we had been wrong about the storm; the hurricane from the south was quickly flooding the city. Our perfect ears heard every swirl of water as it charged toward us; it was less than a mile out. Windows were bursting, cars were shifting like ships out at sea, the sound of metal and glass playing like wind chimes. I could hear the screaming now.

But the humans here were completely unaware.

Danger was rushing toward them as they sipped their champagne and chattered mindlessly, naïve to the outside world. The metaphor was beautiful, and cruel.

Edward and I locked eyes. What do we do?

“Carlisle?” Edward said, his harsh tone almost a growl.

He and Esme were frozen in the doorway across the room, caught in the sounds of the chaos outside as Edward and I were. We all struggled to keep ourselves composed. Only a few seconds had passed.

Carlisle turned to Esme, but he spoke to us all. “Can we save them?”

Edward was curt, “How can we without exposing ourselves?”

“We can’t watch them all drown,” Esme whispered, breathlessly.

“If we barricaded the windows –“ Carlisle said.

Edward grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him, “There’s no way. We can’t stay here.”

“Edward,” Esme’s tone was pleading. “Can’t we do anything?”

We moved toward Carlisle and Esme at a hurried, mortal pace, Edward tugging my arm in haste. When we reached Carlisle and Esme, we all froze.

There was this strange silence; I thought I had lost my hearing for a moment. The roar outside stopped for less than one second and the audio of the world seemed to pause.

And then the great, arched windows of the Oval Room quivered, bowed, and fractured.

____

To read more of my Rosalie series, click this link right here: 1977 Homecoming

To read some other things I’ve written for my Twilight babes, check out these links:

Cold Heart

Inebriated

My inbox is open for requests and love notes - which I always love.

[hoodwinkd1]

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 15

Ch 14 here.

Chapter 15: light hearted jokes

A pillow smacked his face, shocking Eris out of what had been an extremely pleasant dream. He almost snarled at the attack, turning onto his side, before remembering that the object of said dream was lying beside him.

“Sorry,” Rhia whispered, her eyes wide. “Did I wake you up?”

Her fingers played with the edge of the pillow still sitting between them. To Eris’ delight, she appeared to be in the process of removing the barrier, explaining the early morning attack.

“Not many people are brave enough to assault the High Lord first thing in the morning.” Testing the waters, he placed his hand next to hers, palm splayed open. The tumultuous ocean between them turned into a gentle stream as she took it.

Rhia let out a soft sigh. “Go on then, if you must. Lock me in the dungeons, imprison me for life.”

Was it his imagination, or had she shifted closer? Either way, Rhia looked entirely too tempting in the mornings. Her hair had fallen out of its updo and into complete disarray, but framed her face in a way that reminded him of cozy sweaters and falling leaves, of the brief moments he had ever truly relaxed in his life, of safety and of comfort.

He twisted their joined hands so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. “You shouldn’t dangle an idea like that in front of me. I may just keep you here forever, though certainly not in the dungeons.”

She hummed in response, releasing his hand to run hers through his hair. Her fingers continued to explore, drawing the most delicious shapes over his cheekbones, his nose, his jaw, and his neck. Eris would have traded all his fire power in exchange for the fiery lines her touch brought forth.

He also would have traded his powers in an instant for nothing at all. The unpleasant memory of the night before shadowed his thoughts, reviving the roaring self-hatred and guilt at causing her pain.

“Is this why you wanted to remove the pillows? I hadn’t guessed you’d be so affectionate this early.” Eris kept his tone light. She could take his question at face value or use it as an opening to talk about what had transpired.

Rhia grimaced. “Am I that easy to read?” She pushed his shoulder lightly, and he let himself fall onto his back. Eris almost lit the curtains on fire when she moved forward so they were chest to chest, one arm slipping on the other side of his waist. He curled his hand, the arm pinned underneath her, around her back, reveling in the simple touches. “The pillows were in my way.”

“We can’t have that,” Eris concurred. He grabbed the remaining pillow, resting against both of their knees and threw it over the side of the bed. He might have aimed too low and brushed her cheek. All’s fair in love and pillow fights, of course.

“Asshole!” Rhia launched herself on him in earnest this time, straddling his waist with her insanely gorgeous legs. She let a wisp of magic loose, pulling the pillow from the floor to her hands. Eris sat up, hands flailing to grab her wrists, but she got a good smack in before he could. He caught one of her hands and--

“This is too cute!”

Eris let out a snarl that could have woken half the palace at the intruder's voice.

---

Rhia desperately needed to catch up on inter-Court politics. She was relatively confident that  foreign diplomatic officials weren’t allowed to show up in High Lord’s bed chambers without invitation or announcement. And yet, Carina Archeron leaned against the door frame.

“Take your time! Just letting you know I’m waiting in the sitting room when you’re ready for a chat.” The dark-haired female sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Eris dropped her hand and pinched his forehead in frustration. “I would say she’s not usually like this, except...she is.”

Rhia sighed and removed herself from his body. She had hoped that in the morning light, maybe some activities would be marginally easier than the night before. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“I have some very choice words for her,” Eris grumbled. “No more showing up wherever, whenever like she owns the building.”

“Oh? Does she show up in your bedroom often?” Rhia raised an eyebrow.

Eris’ reaction was better than she’d hoped. The High Lord, halfway through putting on a new shirt, whipped his head around, almost ripping the fabric apart. “We haven’t, she’s not, I can promise you that there’s nothing to worry about--”

“I’m teasing, love.” She reached up and helped navigate the sleeves down his arms. “Do you have a spare dressing robe? And not one that was meant for your previous consorts?”

He bit the tip of her ear as he moved past her towards the massive closet. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Carina perked up when they finally joined her in the main room. “That was much quicker than I expected. Look, I even put up a sound barrier.”

Rhia could feel the magic buzzing, right as Carina popped it. At least she had more faith in their sex life than Rhia did.

“I’ll be brief.” She sat back on one of the golden chairs, watching as the couple settled themselves on the couch. “I am sorry for interrupting; I forgot you would stay the night. Anyway, long story short, my parents have invited Eris to come stay the week before the Winter Solstice.”

“How wonderful,” he replied drily. “My ideal vacation.”

“They’ve also extended the invitation to you.” Carina winked at Rhia. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them about your hero worship tendencies.”

She glanced over at Eris, who’d gone surprisingly stiff at the statement. “Isn’t that normal? Letting a fellow High Lord bring guests?”

“Of course it is,” Carina continued. She shifted in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Half of Prythian has heard the news of your mating.”

Eris let out a low growl. “I’m sure Rhysand has the purest of motives here.”

“Ignore him. Rhia, they stressed that you’re invited to come, even if you must come alone.”

Eris growled louder this time. “Not a fucking chance.”

Rhia whipped her head to face him, mouth gaping at the blatant demand in his tone. He never, not once, had said anything territorial or commanded her in anyway. “And who are you to stop me?”

“I would never stop you.” Eris clenched his jaw. “I just want you to see this charade for what it is.”

“Is it? A charade?” She directed the question at the Heir of the Night Court, who looked increasingly uncomfortable with every tense remark.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought it was anything less than genuine,” she insisted. “Eris, you know I’ve never taken their grudge seriously.”

He leaned forward in his chair. Rhia tracked the movement of his arms as they slid down his thigh, hands joining together and elbows resting on his knees. “Tell me, then, with complete certainty, that the Inner Circle has no plans to investigate our relationship. That they have no desire to inspect my mate for themselves. That they have no beliefs that she might be in any danger.”

“What?” Rhia almost choked on nothing. “They can’t think — they have no reason to believe that you would harm me.”

Eris looked down into his palms, searching for something in the creases that brought her so much comfort. “You know our history. Of course they have reason to believe I would treat you maliciously.”

Carina glanced between the two of them. “Yeah, so third wheeling a fight isn’t really my idea of a grand time. I might just go—“

Eris cut her off. “Answer my question or return home with our most insincere apologies.”

“I don’t know! I didn’t ask and I honestly didn’t consider it.” Carina uncrossed her legs and stared him down, intensifying her gaze. “I swear on all the stars in the sky, I only came here with good intentions.” Her eyes jumped to Rhia and her smile turned apologetic. “And if they did pry, it’s only because they happen to be the nosiest assholes in this world.”

Rhia wanted to sweep this entire conversation under the rug and never address it again. She knew that Eris, like he would with any topic, would let her do exactly that if she asked him to.

But something in her heated. Some fire in her core, some deep-seated instinct urged her to defend, to protect, to snarl at any threat with every drop of her power.

“That isn’t fair. They have no right to judge what’s ours, without proof or complaint.” Her words were quiet, but the look from Eris screamed so loudly that she blushed. “If they have any sort of motive, then I have to decline.”

Carina dipped her head. “I can send that message to my parents. If you did say yes, I would set down clear and strict boundaries for your comfort.”

“Thank you. It’s not a yes or a no at this moment.” Eris’ response was much calmer than before, drawing a soft sigh of relief from her lungs.

Rhia offered a weak smile to the other female. She genuinely wanted to bond with Carina, sought friendship with one of the few Fae Eris trusted, and this conversation had deterred her from that goal. One last question lingered, though.

“I know the history between our Courts is tense, and rightfully so,” she began. “But truly, what purpose does it serve to antagonize Eris like this? After successfully allying with him for so long?”

Carina shrugged. “They always have to be the hero. My parents and family have centered themselves in one narrative for too long, unable to really break the molds they were forced into.”

“My father grew more powerful than anyone expected, than anyone knew how to handle, all while facing scorn from both halves of his bloodline. He had to comprise his own beliefs when dealing with the Illyrians and the Hewn City, yet never could find a way to actually fix the problems. My mother was thrust into almost unlimited power and given a hyper-dedicated soulmate at 19 years old, with no worldly perspective or aged experience.” Carina bit her lip, as if holding back a grin before adding: “oh, and of course they both died for Prythian, so that really set the entitlement in.”

She waved a hand casually, wiping away the fact that she had just analyzed the two most magical beings in this world with utter candor. “Whatever, enough about them. Think on it, and send me a note when you decide. Either way, I’ll still visit and demand the latest Autumn gossip.”

She winnowed before Eris or Rhia could move, a person much too used to always getting the last word.

“How are you feeling?” Rhia leaned back into the couch cushions and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Eris draped his hand over hers and squeezed. “I don’t think I ever feel normal after conversing with Carina,” he admitted. “But I’m no longer angry. I apologize that you had to see that.”

Rhia snorted. “You’re much too calm normally. I can appreciate some rage now and again.”

“Never at you.” He leaned over to kiss her knuckles. “Not ever at you. If you’d like me to rage at someone on your behalf, however, that’s completely acceptable.”

“A wonderful sentiment.” The hand on his shoulder slid behind his neck, while its twin danced across his abdomen. “I would like to see the Night Court someday.”

Eris hummed. “I’ll make sure you see all the Courts and the continents beyond, if you wish.”

“Even Illyria?” she teased.

“Nope.”

“Why the hell not?” Rhia pouted. Rhia hadn’t felt any actual desire to go to the bitterly cold mountains, but his denial struck her as a bit odd.

Eris glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now I simply must know,” Rhia giggled. “Or I’ll assume something much worse than what it is.”

She watched him scrunch up his nose in the most adorably frustrated way. “The General and I....we don’t mix.”

“Eris,” she sighed. “You can’t let this grudge eat away at you like—“

“It’s not the grudge.” A blush crept up his neck. “It’s not me that, well, I don’t want you meeting  Cassian.”

Rhia swatted him. “Is he so horrible? Or are you worried I’ll take one look at his hulking body and fall madly in love?”

A beat of silence. Another. Too much time passed, and Eris still didn’t respond to her taunt.

“No.”

He groaned and pulled her closer to him, hiding his face in her curls. “It’s not what you’re thinking! It’s beyond silly, I know, but he did manage to take not one, but two betrothals from me.” His voice went soft. “It’s silly to even think this.”

Rhia bit her tongue, trying to think of anything comforting or sweet to say. She couldn’t do it. A giggle slipped out, and Eris shot his head up.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me.” His eyes flashed in warning, pushing her over the edge.

Rhia gasped for air as the laughter fully overtook her. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to be serious but...” Another laugh interrupted her sentence. “That is so incredibly ridiculous and superstitious!”

Eris glared at her. “My ego is utterly shredded right now, thank you very much.”

“I love you.” She finally calmed down enough to  press a light kiss to the edge of his mouth. “I love you and we’re mates and I promise I won’t leave you for the General of the Night Court.” She kissed the other side of his mouth, punctuating her words.

He wouldn’t risk her pulling away, gripping her waist to keep her against him. She teased him with a few more pecks, adjusting her position to hover directly on his lap.

“Kiss me, you cruel, despicable creature.” His breath fanned her neck and she smiled against his forehead.

A heartbeat later and they were tangled up in each other, lips and tongues and limbs coming together as one. Rhia gasped when he bit her bottom lip and Eris purred when her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Promise me we won't be interrupted this time," she breathed, as he moved down her jaw and back to that one spot on her neck.

Eris smiled against her skin. "I've tripled the wards."

She licked her lips, drawing his attention back up to her face. Slowly, torturing them both, her fingers grazed the neckline of the dressing robe, gliding it down her shoulders, letting it fall off her arms. He looked at her with all the intensity and desperation of a drunkard on his last bottle of wine.

She leaned forward, kissing her way from his chin to his ear. "Should we try again?"

-----

thank you for reading! 

tag list: @moonbeamfenrys @qamariana

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

Supernatural Isn’t Just A Show

I started watching Supernatural fifteen years ago, just like many of you. I followed the paths of two young men who hunted the evils in the world that the rest of us couldn’t have imagined on a good day. Vampires and demons and monsters. Greek gods, angels, Lucifer himself. The stories were heartfelt and humorous and dark and tender. They challenged us to see that monsters could be good, and being evil was a choice. They brought us into a reality of hope and fighting the whole world if it meant that your family was safe.

That’s what the show was really about, you see. The hunting and the laughter and the dark and everything in between was just the icing on the cake. The real story? That was family. Two brothers who came together and saved the world, again and again. Two brothers who fought side by side, and sometimes with each other, and always for what was right, even if the drawn line was hard to see. Two brothers whose devotion bled into the world around them and brought other amazing people into the fold. Two brothers who grew to have a circle of people who were the epitome of family, because ‘family don’t end with blood.’  Castiel and Charlie and Bobby and Kevin and Crowley and Jack and the list goes on. A list that extended beyond the characters, beyond the actors, beyond the show itself. One that includes you, me... JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey.

Let me tell you about JoAnn.

Her daughter and I went to school together, a beautiful young woman named Sarah. Over the years I spent so much time at their house and with JoAnn that it was beyond easy to see them as family. And JoAnn became incredibly special to me. My mother and I have always had a strained, tumultuous relationship with very little in the way of affection. JoAnn, however, became the emotional mother I’d never had. We would laugh together (she had a killer sense of humor,) I would call her just to share something or vent (there was never a moment she wasn’t willing to listen,) she was able to hold all four of my babies after they were born (and they lovingly called her Auntie JoAnn.) And I even managed to get her addicted to Supernatural. 

She loved Dean, especially Dean’s rear end. (-wiggles brows-) 

Shortly before her first and only grandson was born, JoAnn became terminally ill and passed away. She never got to see her grandson, or hold him, or watch him grow up. I think about that all the time, especially when I see a picture of him that Sarah has posted. When I’m watching Supernatural, and Dean says something familiar or I remember a moment in the show that JoAnn particularly loved, I think about JoAnn and how much I wish she could have seen her grandbaby. And how much I wish her daughter, the lovely Sarah, could have experienced that, too. I wonder if JoAnn would have shared this show with her adorable little grandson. I miss that woman every day.

Now, let me tell you about Steven.

His father, Steve, is one of my best friends. I’ve known him for over twenty years. And when his three children were little, I used to babysit them. His son, Steven, was born with severe Cerebral Palsy. He was nonverbal, wheelchair bound, and was tube fed. But he was also the funniest, brightest, most happy boy I’d ever met. He had the most brilliant smile, and the greatest laugh. And whenever someone he loved or really liked walked into a room, his eyes would light up like stars. 

When Steven hit adulthood, I would help his Dad out when Steven was at his house. We liked to watch movies and tv shows together. And I offered up the suggestion of Supernatural. It became like tradition after that. We would all be there in the living room, Steven on the floor with his Dad, and we’d watch the episodes in order. It always made me happy, to be able to share that with them. 

About four years ago, Steven became ill, landing in the hospital. While there, his heart gave out. He passed away without ever having finished the show he had grown to love. Since then, his Dad hasn’t been able to watch anymore. It’s too painful. Too hard to think that Steven isn’t there to watch it with him. I understand completely. Because I’ll watch an old episode and remember Steven’s unabashed laughter. And I wish he was still here to watch it with us. I talked with Steve about giving it another try. He heard the show is ending soon, and I think he is finally ready to see it through, to finish it for both himself and his son. Let me tell you about Jeffrey.

Jeffrey has lived in NYC for over 20 years now. He is my big brother, and was diagnosed with different mental illnesses, including Borderline Personality Disorder. He’s still made a life for himself that makes him happy in a place I know for sure I would never survive in. (I’m a small town girl, through and through.) And it was because of my brother that I found out about GISHWHES. 

You have to understand, my brother doesn’t open up to people easily or step out of his comfort zone for just anyone or anything. But in doing this scavenger hunt? My brother walked around NYC in a robot costume, including taking the subway and walking crowded streets. He also wore a bikini made of lettuce, and not once was shy about it. He dove right in and gave it his all in order to help other people, and to this day I am still insanely proud of him for it. 

After everything he went through, from living on the subway for nearly two years (and never telling us) to going from corporate work (which he hated) to doing something he really loved (comic books, baby) to being hospitalized for suicidal tendencies to finally being diagnosed with things he had struggled with all his life but never had taken care of, and finally having a sense of mental health in a new job as a live-in dog nanny, this amazing man is finally happy. And when I think of that, I think of the video of him wandering around dressed as a robot because of GISHWHES.  Now, if you’ll bare with me... let me tell you about myself.

I am a pansexual woman married to my best friend with four amazing children. 

I have depression and anger issues that I have struggled most of life with. 

I have spent a good chunk of my adult life being a stay-at-home-mom and only now am going back to school to learn a new career. I have rescued and taken care of animals since I was 17, something my children have grown to love as well. And I am happier now than I have ever been. But it wasn’t always that way.

I had my best friend die in my arms when I was 12, that being my first experience with death and grief and unchecked anger. And I grew up a lonely kid who spent most of my time hiding how depressed I was, doing everything I could to take care of everyone else in my life, the majority of them never knowing how much I actually struggled with just living. The first love of my life was killed in a car accident when I was 16. My parents divorced when I was 17 and I dropped out of high school, working three jobs just so I wouldn’t be home with my mother. 

I was married to a selfish and controlling man at 18, had my first child at 19, second at 20, third at 23, and divorced at 23 with three small children and no job. I was terrified and didn’t know what I was going to do. Everything was up and down and inside out.

But I have a very clear memory of sitting down one night, after the kids had gone to sleep and the apartment was quiet and I was alone with nothing but my thoughts and the television… and a repeat episode of Supernatural (Season 2, Episode 16 – Roadkill) was on. (Spoilers ahead if you, by chance, have not seen this episode.)

In that moment, I was barely paying attention to it. I was a wreck, filled with guilt and fear. My face was covered in tears, and I was sobbing as I sat there and rocked with a pillow held in my grip (I oddly remember that pillow vividly because it had rough edges.) But as the episode progressed, I began to quiet. I remember listening intently to Sam and Molly as they sat on an old bed in Greeley’s home, looking at the letters he’d written to his wife. 

“It’s a love letter he wrote her… my God, it’s beautiful… I don’t understand how a guy like this can turn into a monster.” Molly said to Sam. I mirrored that sentiment, in my own way. (I know my situation wasn’t the same.) I’d married a man I’d thought I’d loved. A man I thought loved me. But his actions and selfishness lead to the downfall of our marriage, our family, and my (then) situation. But I had been the one to make the decision to end things, right? After everything he’d done, I couldn’t be with someone I couldn’t trust. And it wasn’t just about me… it was about our children. They needed a mother who was happy…

At the end of the episode, Molly is faced with the reality that she has been dead the entire time and that her husband David had already said his goodbyes, moving on without her.

“What am I supposed to do?” Molly asked, in tears.

“Just… let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that… we think you’ll move on.” Sam responded gently.

Isn’t that what I should be doing? I thought. Because by that point, I’d been stuck in grief and fear for months. I don’t think I knew it until that point, but I’d been holding onto it like a security blanket because it made sense, it seemed like I deserved it.

“But you don’t know where…” Molly responded, her voice still soft with tears.

“No... Molly, you don’t belong here. Haven’t you suffered long enough?” Sam asked. “It’s time… it’s time to go.”

I sat there in stunned silence. 

As odd as it sounds, it felt like he was talking to me. Because for years I’d tried to keep our marriage together because I thought I had to for our children. For years, I’d practically raised those three children alone. For months, I had sat in a holding pattern, waiting for my shoulders to finally break under all the weight from the failure I felt and the misery I was drowning in, doing everything I could to be a good mother with nothing to fall back on. But then I watched Molly walk into the light, tears streaming down her face, a smile ghosting across her lips, and I realized… I really had suffered long enough.

“You really think she’s going to a better place?” Dean asked after Molly moved on.

“I hope so.” Sam replied.

“I guess we’ll never know, not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean said with half a smirk.

“Doesn’t really matter, Dean. Hope’s kind of the whole point.” Sam said.

And there it was. What I’d been missing. Hope. 

This show, these two actors, those two brothers opened my eyes to something that had been right in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know what I was going to do next. But I was certain I had suffered enough. I was certain I needed to move on, for my children, for myself. And as the episode ended, I wiped my tears off my face, shut off the tv and kissed every one of my sleeping children a few dozen times. And I went to bed thinking about the depiction of that light, that hope.

Two years later, I married my best friend – the love of my life, a good man who never lies, never hurts me or my kids, lifts me up when I feel down, makes me laugh every day, treats me far better than I will ever think I deserve. We had a baby boy together, bringing our family to a total of four amazing kids who all call him Dad. We have our own home which we work so hard for, we have a plethora of animals who make every day adventurous, and I am finally on a career track I feel excited about. All because I decided to stop living in my suffering, and move on.

That is why this show is not ‘just a show.’ For me, anyway. Because of JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey. Because of the hope I found with the show itself. And I know I am not alone in at least this sentiment.

Every season since, I have watched the episodes. I have followed the stories and witnessed the amazing things this fandom has done for each other and complete strangers. I have seen people’s lives changed by the show and the actors, I have been able to connect with other people I never would have known, and get closer to those I already did. I have shared this series with my children, who all love it and the main characters as much as I do.

And right now, as we get near the end of the series, I am not ashamed to admit that I am hurting. I feel a genuine heartache. A genuine loss. I feel like a part of my history is coming to a close. But like at that moment when my world was inside out and I was trapped in my own little hell, I have hope. 

I don’t know what waits for me. I never have. I don’t know what awaits any of us. But this show will never really die. The connections we’ve made, the way the stories and people have touched us… that never really goes away. 

Whether we watch Supernatural on repeat on a bad day, or follow the actors as they move on to new adventures, or get someone in our life to start watching it, this show will always be around. Just like hope. And… isn’t it like Sam said? “Hope’s kind of the whole point.”

So, hold on to hope. And message me if you’re grieving, if you need an ear from a fellow fan, or just someone to shoot Supernatural memes back and forth with. We’re a family. You, me, all of us. And I’ll always be here for you.

(P.S. I will ship Destiel till the bitter end.)

Love,

QuietDarkness (stars-are-just-ghosts)

[salvatoreschool]

Vampire Diaries Universe: The 25 Best Characters, Ranked

For the first time since 2009, we’re entering a fall season devoid of any new offerings from the Vampire Diaries universe. And like Stefan Salvatore without his daily diet of forest friends, we’re insatiable.

Like so many longtime TVD enthusiasts (those of us to whom the word “thesmatos” really means something!), we’ve spent much of quarantine revisiting the weird, wonderful universe — from Mystic Falls to New Orleans and back again. We’re suddenly spending a lot of time with characters we haven’t seen in years. And we’re having a lot of feelings about them.

In celebration of the franchise’s 11th anniversary, TVLine has assembled another totally non-controversial ranking, this time of the 25 best characters from the Vampire Diaries universe — a category that also includes familiar faces from The Originals and Legacies. (In Legacies‘ defense, the franchise’s latest offshoot hasn’t been around as long to endear itself to us, but that didn’t stop four Salvatore School students from making their way onto our list.)

In lieu of new content from the TVD universe this fall, TVLine is looking back at our 25 favorite characters from the entire franchise, including stand-out favorites from its two spinoffs.

SPOILER ALERT: This ranking discusses major plot points from all three shows. If you haven’t finished The Vampire Diaries (Season 1-8), The Originals (Season 1-5) or Legacies (Season 1-2), proceed at your own risk. Don’t say we didn’t warn you!

25. VINCENT GRIFFITH

Thanks to the magic of body swapping, the Mikaelson siblings have inhabited multiple physical vessels throughout the years, but none have remained in the family’s orbit quite like this Southern gentleman. Powerful, thoughtful and downright Shakespearean in his delivery (Yusuf Gatewood, ladies and gentlemen!), Vincent always has the greater good in mind. And as we learned in The Originals’ series finale, he helped Freya and Keelan pass that good along to the next generation.

24. LANDON KIRBY

Even though we’re still getting to know him, there’s already so much to like about this pure-hearted Mystic Falls townie. Not only is he the franchise’s first-ever phoenix, but he also looks like he could pass for Damon and Elena’s offspring — and that’s never a bad thing. We could tell he had a long future in this universe the moment he danced with Hope in The Originals’ final season. (So far, so good!)

23. JENNA SOMMERS

Like so many paved paradises, we didn’t fully appreciate what we had with Jenna until she was gone. Her death marked the end of Elena’s innocence — which is saying a lot, considering she was still mourning her own parents when The Vampire Diaries began. And if we’re being honest, Jenna was the ghost we were most excited to see again in the series finale. (For the record, Joseph Morgan has apologized on Klaus’ behalf for killing Jenna several times.)

22. TYLER LOCKWOOD

The First Son of Mystic Falls was kind of a jerk when we met him in The Vampire Diaries‘ first season. He was arrogant, aggressive and reckless — so it actually made perfect sense when he was revealed to be a werewolf. Fortunately, Michael Trevino’s character developed a little more nuance from that point on, especially via his Romeo and Juliet romance with Caroline. (After everything that’s happened since 2013, can you believe that they were once in a love triangle with Klaus?)

21. JEREMY GILBERT

Elena’s little brother (er, cousin?) went through a number of different, wonderful phases during his tenure in Mystic Falls. We loved him in The Vampire Diaries’ earlier seasons as the human embodiment of all things emo (he literally dated a ghost!), and we… um… appreciated his unexpected evolution into a shirt-ripping, wood-chopping vampire hunter.

20. CAMILLE ‘CAMI’ O’CONNELL

The Clarice Starling to Klaus’ Hannibal Lecter, this brave bartender was able to tap into the show’s darkest, most complicated character’s psyche in ways that no one named Mikaelson (or even Forbes) ever could. She helped him conquer a number of his demons in the few short years they spent together on The Originals, and like most people who play a significant role in Klaus’ life, she suffered the consequences. (Side note: Are we the only ones who really dug Cami as a vampire? Justice for that short-lived story arc.)

19. SHERIFF ELIZABETH FORBES

Of The Vampire Diaries’ many maternal figures, none put us through the emotional ringer quite like Caroline’s mother. We weren’t her biggest fans in the show’s early seasons, given her penchant for hunting the undead (including her own daughter), but hey, what was this show if not an endless series of redemption arcs? Also, if you don’t get a little choked up when Caroline felt her mom’s presence in the series finale, you don’t have a soul.

18. FREYA MIKAELSON

The long-lost fifth Mikaelson sibling was a little rough around the edges when we first encountered her on The Originals, but the poor woman was in the midst of escaping a centuries-long imprisonment, so we cut her a little slack. And we’re glad we did, because Freya has since become one of the strongest, most inspiring and all-around likable characters in the Vampire Diaries canon. #FreelinForever

17. MARCEL GERARD

While it’s easy to get swept up in Marcel’s charm and swagger (we were robbed of a second karaoke number, by the way!), it’s important to remember just how far back his time with the Mikaelson family goes. When you consider that Klaus literally freed Marcel from slavery and raised him to lead New Orleans as his right-hand vampire, it adds a whole other layer of tension to their passionate power struggle on The Originals. Though he’s treated like an unofficial Mikaelson sibling, Marcel often feels like more of a Mikaelson than Kol — and definitely more than Finn.

16. REBEKAH MIKAELSON

Arguably the funniest (and most glamorous) member of the Mikaelson family, the woman Damon once referred to as “Barbie Klaus” never fai to tell it exactly like it was, beginning with her thoughts on then-lovebirds Stefan and Elena. (“Honestly, I don’t get you two as a couple.”) And Bex only became more complex as the years went on, from her desperate desire for humanity to her undeniable love for Marcel. Just don’t call her insane — she prefers “spontaneous.”

15. ALARIC SALTZMAN

In hindsight, Alaric’s journey from hot history teacher to hot headmaster of a supernatural school makes perfect sense. Still, it was impossible to predict back in The Vampire Diaries’ first season just how much of an impact the man formerly known as Warner Huntington III would have on this franchise. A drinking buddy to some, a father figure to others and a literal father to a lucky pair, Alaric has truly woven himself into the fabric of this universe like few others. (That said, we still wouldn’t recommend dating him if you value your life.)

14. SHERIFF MATT DONOVAN

Only one full-blooded human survived all eight seasons of The Vampire Diaries, and you’re looking at him. The pinnacle of mortal goodness, this blue-eyed patriot hasn’t always been on the same page as his vampire brethren, but that’s only because he didn’t want to see any more his friends and family get eaten. And we can sympathize with that!

12-13. LIZZIE AND JOSIE SALTZMAN

Asking us to choose between Jo (by way of Caroline) and Alaric’s daughters is an impossible task, which is ironic, considering the Gemini twins are literally destined for a fight to the death on their 22nd birthday. Besides, these sisters have always felt like a package deal, from the moment we witnessed their birth on The Vampire Diaries to the day we reunited with them as teenagers on Legacies. (They also popped up in The Originals’ penultimate episode, putting them in the prestigious category of characters who have appeared in all three series.) Despite their inherent connection, Lizzie and Josie really have grown into two very different people, a journey we hope will continue for years (and shows) to come.

11. MALACHAI ‘KAI’ PARKER

The fact that this remorseless, pork rind-loving psychopath ranks so high on our list speaks volumes about actor Chris Wood, who brought a refreshingly sassy vibe to The Vampire Diaries’ sixth season. The guy was so likable, fans were even ‘shipping him with Bonnie… as if that poor girl hadn’t been through enough already! You also have to give Kai points for longevity — even after his head got knocked off, he managed to make two encore appearances on TVD (Season 8) and Legacies (Season 2).

10. HOPE MIKAELSON

As we mentioned with Lizzie and Josie earlier, we feel like we’ve watched Hope grow up before our eyes… because we have. Given the epic circumstances surrounding her conception, birth and upbringing, an adult version of this character had a lot of hype to live up to, and Danielle Rose Russell has proven herself more than up to the challenge. Imbued with her parents’ best qualities, Hope’s power and passion make her both a formidable foe and an invaluable ally. Besides, Legacies showed us what the world would be like without Hope, and it was not a good place.

9. HAYLEY MARSHALL

We can’t even think about this fierce, fearless mama wolf without shedding a single tear. Hayley’s story was basically one long tragedy, from her complicated marriage with Jackson to her tumultuous relationship with Elijah. And then there was her untimely demise in The Originals’ final season, which… actually, let’s not talk about that. From the moment she gave birth, Hayley’s heart belonged to Hope, and it was in her most extreme maternal moments that Hayley’s true strength was on display. That’s how we’ll remember her.

8. ELIJAH MIKAELSON

Suits? Pressed. Hair? Immaculate. Vocabulary? Thicc. With his smooth moves and cunning intellect, Klaus’ extremely respectful brother could do it all — well, except keep the people he loved from meeting horrific ends. (Seriously, this guy’s track record for dead lovers is right up there with Alaric’s.)

7. BONNIE BENNETT

Simply put, this is the witch you want in your corner when things go south. Endlessly powerful and selfless to a fault, Kat Graham’s character spent eight agonizing seasons sacrificing herself — often literally, hence her multiple deaths — in order to keep her friends and family safe. No amount of bloody noses or dead boyfriends could stop this badass from crushing her enemies.

6. CAROLINE FORBES

Getting smothered to death was honestly the best thing that could have happened to Caroline, who evolved from a basic, boy-crazy cheerleader into a bad-ass vampire overnight. And that was just the first phase of her franchise-long evolution into the empowered, globe-trotting mother of two she is today. She’s also responsible for all of The Vampire Diaries’ memorable musical moments, from her sweet song for Matt to her devastating performance at Sheriff Forbes’ funeral. (Now if only she’d pay her old pals at Legacies a visit…)

5. ELENA SALVATORE

She may not have Katherine’s chaotic flare, but Elena deserves credit for carrying much of The Vampire Diaries’ dramatic and romantic weight for six years. And for that pink hair she experimented with in Season 4. On top of that, Elena also rolled with the punches better than almost anyone. (You’re vampires? I’m a doppelgänger? Now I’m a vampire? Now I’m human again? Now I’m in a coma? Sure, let’s do this.)

3-4. DAMON AND STEFAN SALVATORE

Two sides of the same brooding coin, these brothers were as proficient at breaking hearts as they were at breaking necks. And while their love triangle with Elena will remain the stuff of TV legend, their relationship as brothers was revealed to be the real heart of The Vampire Diaries in its final two seasons. Honestly, it’s too hard to choose between them, so we’re not going to.

2. KATHERINE PIERCE

Come on, when were you not excited to see this leather-clad lunatic on your screen? Deliciously twisted and infinitely more interesting than her human doppelgänger, Katherine was behind many of The Vampire Diaries’ most jaw-dropping twists, from her iconic encounter with John(’s bloody fingers) to her long-awaited return in the series finale. Honestly, putting Katherine on hell’s throne in Season 8 was merely a formality — she was always a queen.

1. KLAUS MIKAELSON

The man, the myth, the legend. To think that the monster who slaughtered poor, defenseless Aunt Jenna on The Vampire Diaries is the same person who gave it all up to save his daughter on The Originals… well, there isn’t a clap slow enough to commend that kind of growth. (Again, Joseph Morgan is very sorry about the whole Jenna thing!) By the time Klaus evaporated on the streets of New Orleans, it felt like we had explored every conceivable nook and cranny of his existence, from his traumatic childhood to his fatal romances — and we relished every second of it.

[rockislandadultreads]

Magical Realism in Adult Fiction

She Would Be King by Wayétu Moore

A novel of exhilarating range, magical realism, and history—a dazzling retelling of Liberia’s formation. Wayétu Moore’s powerful debut novel, She Would Be King, reimagines the dramatic story of Liberia’s early years through three unforgettable characters who share an uncommon bond. Gbessa, exiled from the West African village of Lai, is starved, bitten by a viper, and left for dead, but still she survives. June Dey, raised on a plantation in Virginia, hides his unusual strength until a confrontation with the overseer forces him to flee. Norman Aragon, the child of a white British colonizer and a Maroon slave from Jamaica, can fade from sight when the earth calls him. When the three meet in the settlement of Monrovia, their gifts help them salvage the tense relationship between the African American settlers and the indigenous tribes, as a new nation forms around them. Moore’s intermingling of history and magical realism finds voice not just in these three characters but also in the fleeting spirit of the wind, who embodies an ancient wisdom. “If she was not a woman,” the wind says of Gbessa, “she would be king.” In this vibrant story of the African diaspora, Moore, a talented storyteller and a daring writer, illuminates with radiant and exacting prose the tumultuous roots of a country inextricably bound to the United States. She Would Be King is a novel of profound depth set against a vast canvas and a transcendent debut from a major new author.

Indelible by Adelia Saunders

Magdalena has an unsettling gift. She sees writing on the body of everyone she meets - names, dates, details both banal and profound - and her only relief from the onslaught of information is to take off her glasses and let the world recede. Mercifully, her own skin is blank. When she meets Neil, she is intrigued to see her name on his cheek. He's in Paris for the summer, studying a medieval pilgrimage to the rocky coast of Spain, where the body of Saint Jacques was said to have washed ashore, covered in scallop shells. Desperate to make things right after her best friend dies - a loss she might have prevented - Magdalena embarks on her own pilgrimage, but not before Neil falls for her, captivated by her pale eyes, charming Eastern European accent, and aura of heartbreak. Neil's father, Richard, is also in Paris, searching for the truth about his late mother, a famous expatriate American novelist who abandoned him at birth. All his life Richard has clung to a single striking memory - his mother's red shoes, which her biographers agree he never could have seen. Despite misunderstandings and miscommunications, these unforgettable characters converge, by chance or perhaps by fate, and Magdalena's uncanny ability may prove to be the key to their happiness. Indelible pulses with humanity and breathes life into unexpected fragments of history, illustrating our urgent need to connect with others and the past.

Once Upon a River by Diane Setterfield

On a dark midwinter’s night in an ancient inn on the river Thames, an extraordinary event takes place. The regulars are telling stories to while away the dark hours, when the door bursts open on a grievously wounded stranger. In his arms is the lifeless body of a small child. Hours later, the girl stirs, takes a breath and returns to life. Is it a miracle? Is it magic? Or can science provide an explanation? These questions have many answers, some of them quite dark indeed. Those who dwell on the river bank apply all their ingenuity to solving the puzzle of the girl who died and lived again, yet as the days pass the mystery only deepens. The child herself is mute and unable to answer the essential questions: Who is she? Where did she come from? And to whom does she belong? But answers proliferate nonetheless. Three families are keen to claim her. A wealthy young mother knows the girl is her kidnapped daughter, missing for two years. A farming family reeling from the discovery of their son’s secret liaison, stand ready to welcome their granddaughter. The parson’s housekeeper, humble and isolated, sees in the child the image of her younger sister. But the return of a lost child is not without complications and no matter how heartbreaking the past losses, no matter how precious the child herself, this girl cannot be everyone’s. Each family has mysteries of its own, and many secrets must be revealed before the girl’s identity can be known. Once Upon a River is a glorious tapestry of a book that combines folklore and science, magic and myth. Suspenseful, romantic, and richly atmospheric, the beginning of this novel will sweep you away on a powerful current of storytelling, transporting you through worlds both real and imagined, to the triumphant conclusion whose depths will continue to give up their treasures long after the last page is turned.

The Rules of Magic (Practical Magic #0.2) by Alice Hoffman

Find your magic For the Owens family, love is a curse that began in 1620, when Maria Owens was charged with witchery for loving the wrong man. Hundreds of years later, in New York City at the cusp of the sixties, when the whole world is about to change, Susanna Owens knows that her three children are dangerously unique. Difficult Franny, with skin as pale as milk and blood red hair, shy and beautiful Jet, who can read other people’s thoughts, and charismatic Vincent, who began looking for trouble on the day he could walk. From the start Susanna sets down rules for her children: No walking in the moonlight, no red shoes, no wearing black, no cats, no crows, no candles, no books about magic. And most importantly, never, ever, fall in love. But when her children visit their Aunt Isabelle, in the small Massachusetts town where the Owens family has been blamed for everything that has ever gone wrong, they uncover family secrets and begin to understand the truth of who they are. Back in New York City each begins a risky journey as they try to escape the family curse. The Owens children cannot escape love even if they try, just as they cannot escape the pains of the human heart. The two beautiful sisters will grow up to be the revered, and sometimes feared, aunts in Practical Magic, while Vincent, their beloved brother, will leave an unexpected legacy.

[scattered-irises]

LONG AWAITED CONCLUSION TO THAT ZEXAL PHILOSOPHICAL CHAT I POSTED A YEAR (or two) AGO

Part i

Basically, the theory is: Tron is a figment of the Arclights’ imagination and it’s actually just Byron going around messing everything up. Tron is a symbol of the corruption of the Arclights. 

****

And so, I pose you this question, Phosphorous. What if Tron never existed and was just a metaphorical representation for Byron's hatred and anger? What if the Barian World hadn't done anything to him and instead, just made him an angrier old man? So instead of this creepy, laughing child, we have this creepy man who goes around ruining people's lives for the sake of his revenge. 

The child is just something the Arclight brothers made up because they couldn't stand the fact that their father had become like that. But that was why they still followed him. Because he was still their father.

I see your point there. It has plausibility, muses Phosphorous. 

The reason why Tron erased their old names was because it was a way for all of them to disassociate their current selves with their past selves. They have changed too much to be considered Byron, Christopher, Thomas and Michael anymore. Christopher has turned extremely cold and calculating compared to his happier, gentle brother attitude when he was younger.

And Thomas...the poor child. He used to be a happy boy that teased his younger sibling but as IV, he masks himself as a happy celebrity loved by all in the world and underneath that mask is a sadistic monster and underneath that mask is a son that just desperately wants his father back and will do anything to get it and underneath that mask is a lonely young man who wishes to be understood.

Arguably, Michael is the one who remains closest to his original self. He's still the beloved younger brother and like when they were younger, still has a close relationship with Thomas. But he's cracked beneath his placid smile and gentle nature. When angered, he lashes out terribly and like Thomas, will do anything, even murder, to achieve his family's goals.

And so, one could argue that Tron is basically just an overall representation that their family has changed for the worse.

“How much autonomy do the brothers have? and how do they relate to others as they attempt to fulfill their families goals?” poses Phosphorous.

  Ah, ah. An insightful query, my friend. They are pretty much never seen doing things of their own free will. Even when it seems like they are enjoying themselves (I.E III sneaking into Yuma's house to eat lunch and meet him. It actually was just a scouting mission on his family's next target), their actions are meant to serve ulterior motives. In the end, all of the things they do is in the name of serving the family. 

A somewhat random note, Christopher looks at Thomas with contempt. They're basically polar opposites (But not really. Once Christopher gets emotional, he's just as broken and destructive as Thomas). 

Thomas has a grudging respect for Christopher because a part of him still recognizes him as his older brother. 

Christopher seems to care a bit more for Michael, but when Michael was being tortured, he watched the scene at the insistence of Tron. At the end of it though, he turns away, hinting at a bit of a conscience. 

It's Thomas and Michael that are more of a sibling relationship. This is most likely because they have spent all of their lives together while Christopher had been absent for 5 years from their lives. He was gone when Thomas was 12 all the way to when he turned 17 and Michael was 10 and is now 15

Thomas genuinely cares for Michael, going as far as to shout at Tron for treating his brother like that. Christopher immediately silences him. 

Michael also returns that gesture, although less because he ended up falling into a coma before we could see more. 

“Yet all three are, at least at times, willing participants in Tron's schemes?”

Yes, my fellow thinker. Christopher is the most loyal one. He never questions Tron’s orders. Michael will go with his father in hopes that he will get his family back. He is Tron's favorite because he is a "gentle and obedient child." I find it quite sad how, although Christopher is the most loyal one to the cause, he isn’t the favorite. I suppose it is also because I am the eldest of three, yet am not as favored as the youngest. 

“The youngest seems to be favored most of the time,” muses Phosphorous as they look out at the tumultuous Barian sea. 

It's Thomas that sometimes goes out of line. He's the strongest of the brothers, but Tron is always saying that he is the weakest. It is most likely the fear of Thomas realizing that he's actually powerful and could turn on Tron. Hence, that is why Tron says he trusts no one.

Phosphorous stands, overlooking the gloomy landscape of crystals. 

“So each and every one is then beholden to this idea of what? A happy family? Or just something different than their current state of affairs? Do all the brothers truly share this idea of a return to a happy family? Or do they don't even know that that looks like and just want something to change?”

In short:

Tron: Kill my murderers and I'll become your happy ol' dad again and we can go back to England and do happy British people stuff

Sons: Uh sure okay

Personally, I think they all know to an extent that they're deluding themselves

They're just ambling down this path of lies because the brothers are desperate to have a place to belong to after being separated for so long

But you might have a point that they might not even know what a truly happy family is anymore.

“So it's like they're chasing something that doesn't exist then?”

Exactly. Much like the couple that was running to the end of the rainbow. They are chasing a boat that has already long passed by. After all of the things Tron did to them, I'm sure they all know that they will never be "normal" and "happy" again.

“So under your theory, Tron doesn't truly exist, or at least is highly metaphorical, which makes all of their struggles self-inflicted and their delusions even more deep.”

Quite perceptive of you. Tron does exist, but he's basically Byron but meaner. They merely use the child with the ruined face to cover up the fact that their father has turned into a monster.

"Hey so dad's gone nuts but let's pretend it's a weird little boy who's nuts so it takes a bit of the pain away."

“Ah, so then they could say "Tron" instead of ‘Father.’”

Yes, exactly. They almost never address Tron as father. They only talk of their father in the past tense.

“But then,” proposes Phosphorous, dramatically turning back to me. “Why would they care so much for the new names they received? Or do they not care for them?”

Those names have become a part of their identities. They use it to cope with the fact that they've all gone south personality-wise. Thomas even uses IV as his celebrity name, perhaps as a sign that he does not recognize his celebrity persona as his true self.

Phosphorous takes in a deep breath, the acidic breeze rustling their toga. Their eyes meet mine own with a sharpness that I had always so admired.

  “So these new names, they're basically masks, but do they disassociate themselves from their new identities the same way they do with Tron and their Father, or do they still think of themselves as fundamentally themselves, just forced to do things they wouldn't normally do? Though I would assume each brother is affected differently by their mask,” says my friend as they begin to pace.

Ah, they still view Tron as their father (A leader) but deep down they probably don't want to put two and two together. So it's a superficial belief of "We fight for Tron (our father but let’s not think about that.)"

Either that or,

They are fighting for their Father,

 who is basically just an idea of a happy family now whilst Tron

represents a bad family.

Onto your second point, the brothers fit into their masks to different extents.

Michael doesn't seem to mind III for they appear to have the same personality, save for III's destructive tendencies.

When Christopher is reunited with his student that he abandoned and is called Christopher, he sadly smiles and says. 

"It's been a long time since someone has called me that"

And Thomas probably has an extremely difficult time taking off his mask after wearing it for so long in front of so many people

“So then do their numbered names also represent a bad family? also why do they start at three, like why not 1,2,3 instead of 3,4,5?”

I still don’t understand why it’s 3 4 5 (Nor does anyone else, for that matter.), however, their numbers are probably how Tron sees them. From his scientific background, he probably just sees his son as pieces of useful data he can use to his advantage.

“Hm, the only thing I could think of for the numbers was that Tron was somehow including him and the boys' mother in his count, like their the first two so that's why it starts at three, which is something you probably already thought about,” theorizes Phosphorous futilely.

Perhaps the numbers are used as place holders. They are not Christopher, Thomas and Michael. They are merely placeholders for when Christopher, Thomas and Michael return. When their family is whole again...

“But if the numbers are place-holders then so is the name ‘Tron,’” concludes Phosphorous.

Indeed.

“But I wonder if the brothers associate the numbers with Tron, like the numbers aren't really them, just a means to an end that will be removed when they get their father back, or if they're deluding themselves,” muses my friend.

Yes, the numbers are most likely temporary to them. Christopher is deluding himself.

He knows that he’s Christopher under V’s cold exterior. Same for Thomas and Michael. They are a family of delusions, united under the promise of a better tomorrow that will never arrive. 

  And so I thank you, for bearing with me. 

  Without ceremony, Phosphorus walks away from the crystal cliff, leaving me. I stare into the depths of the sea of ill intent and allow the sounds of the waves crashing against the crystal to overtake me. Closing my eyes, I begin to meditate. 

  Thus we conclude our bout of philosophy and ardent beard stroking. 

[dailytomlinson]

A lot has happened since Louis Tomlinson showed up at an audition for British talent show The X Factor in 2010. The resulting boyband One Direction didn’t win the competition but went on to become a worldwide phenomenon, earning the boys a loyal fanbase even after the band decided to go on a hiatus to explore solo-careers.

Since then, Tomlinson has released three stand-alone singles, ‘Just Hold On ’ with Steve Aoki, ‘Back To You ’ with Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals, and the heartfelt ‘Miss You ’. Two years have passed since then, and now Tomlinson is back with a new style of music, new singles, and his debut solo album 'Walls’ on the way. This week, the single ‘We Made It ’ was released, a song written back in 2017 with personal lyrics and a relaxed Britpop feel to it. This is the third single from his forthcoming album, and for Tomlinson, releasing his solo music is a brand new experience.

“It’s completely different,” he says eagerly as he puts away his coat, fresh back in from a bit of fresh air and a lunch break between interviews. “It’s funny ‘cos I’ve got all this experience from the band, but it’s not the same at all!”

This time around, everything he does from writing to recording, making music videos and touring is different. It’s his own words, set to his own music, and done through his choices. But there was a time he wasn’t sure whether this was something he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready to go out and do stuff on his own, he wasn’t ready for the band to go on a hiatus, and the decision for it all to end threw him off balance. So when he decided to pursue a solo career, after all, he went for the music that was the most popular at the time — dance/pop crossovers. “It felt like the easiest way in,” he admits, explaining that the reason he chose to do features for the first few songs was that it gave him a bit of time to tread some water and figure out where he stood in the industry. “I needed that time to work out who I was and what I wanted,” he says, “but I was also making music that I thought I had to make, as opposed to the music I wanted to make.”

Breaking away from the safety of a band and going solo can be as emotionally confusing and tumultuous as breaking out from a long time relationship and being single again. You’re used to your band-persona and who you are as a part of a bigger puzzle, but once away from all that, you have to get to know yourself again and figure out who you are on your own.

Though he was often involved in writing sessions in the band as well, Tomlinson feels writing and creating music got a little bit more precise once it was just him. When writing for a band, you write music with four or five people in mind, it all has to relate to — and fit — them as well. Now, he can narrow it all down to only himself. Your own taste, your own preferences, and your own narrative. Having dropped the dance pop-feel of his initial singles for an indie-infused pop-rock style, Tomlinson's new music reflects his taste in music growing up. Being from the north of England, all the big northern bands had a profound influence on his life. “Like, the closest city to me is Sheffield, which Arctic Monkeys are from,” he says, “so that sound is massive there.”

His previous single, ‘Kill My Mind ’ was intended to be a bit of a statement of intent musically, setting it and him apart from what had been released before. Still, the decision to change his style wasn’t an easy one. He had a lot of industry people, songwriters and producers who didn’t really know him, trying to drag him into a slightly urban sound that he couldn’t relate to, but which is big in America. At one point he realised he’d had enough of those sessions and made the choice to take the reins himself. “I can either try and follow radio and follow the trends there, or I can just do what I love,” he says of the decision, “in the end I just had a word with myself and worked out what success meant to me. Now I just do what I love.”

Still, it took bravery to stand up for himself to the people who tried to steer him into their preferred direction. “You can make the mistake of relying on the expertise around you when, actually, I believe it’s really important just to trust your gut - because nobody knows you better than yourself.”

Going solo is challenging in more ways than just creatively and musically. In a band, you don’t know about all the gears that go into the massive machine you are a part of. Being on your own, it’s all a lot more intricate. “When you’re in a band like One Direction,” Tomlinson says, “we didn’t want for anything. We had everything that we needed.” He knew nothing about things like budget conversations and admits that coming face to face with such issues as a solo artist was a brand new concept for him. The learning curve has been steep, but Tomlinson feels like he’s always been learning as he goes along. “I used to think that I had… I used to get involved creatively in One Direction as well, but now when I look at it in hindsight, it’s nowhere near how much I have to be involved in every single detail.”

But challenges also makes success all the more rewarding, though even amazing experiences are different as a solo artist. A few days before our chat, Tomlinson had played a ten-song headline set in Madrid, Spain, his first-ever. “Other than musicians I played with onstage, it’s hard to explain to anyone what just happened,” he smiles, “as opposed to when you’re in a band and you’re all feeling the same thing. But it definitely makes it more rewarding when I look back on the show and I think about my influence on it. I feel like I’ve been leading up to that gig for as long as I’ve been solo.”

Another thing he’s currently working towards is the release of his debut solo album. He hopes to have it ut early next year and feel like it will be a relief to have it out and be able to tour with it. The album is mostly finished, all the writing is done and only a few more vocals need to be recorded, but after that, what remains is working out the order of the tracks and other details.

Out of the singles put out so far, not many will make it to the album. “The Steve Aoki song [‘Just Hold On ’] is an interesting one ‘cos the melody kinda leans to quite anthemic sounds, so we’re reproducing that to give it a bit more guitar and band-feel,” Tomlinson says, “so that will be on the album in a different version, but other than that, the last three are the only ones that will make it.” And for those eagerly awaiting the debut album, there are more treats on the way. “I’m hoping to release the next single six weeks after ‘We Made It,'” he smiles, “I’ll pretty much try and release music now in the run-up to the album in the new year.”

Leaning back in a comfy chair in the Sony Music offices in central London, Tomlinson is relaxed and cheerful, dressed in comfy all black clothes and chatting intermittently to his label crew. With a direct gaze and a cheeky smile, it’s hard to imagine him ever doubting himself or his own abilities. But when he speaks, there’s a certain vulnerability he’s not afraid of showing. Though experiencing massive success with numerous triumphs, he’s also gone through great losses, heartbreak and grief. And despite his young age and only just starting out as a solo artist, Tomlinson’s songs have unexpected depth and some seriously personal lyrics. The song ‘Two Of Us ’ was written about his late mother Johannah Deakin, who died of Leukemia in December 2016.

“I have a bit of a luxury that where I grew we wear our hearts on our sleeve,” he says, “it’s part of our make up, so it has always come naturally to me. But of course, that is a really tender subject, but since I have the luxury of being confident enough to be able to talk about these things, I think it’s also important to put that message out. Especially as a guy as well.”

“There was this girl at a meet & greet who had just lost her dad and she shared some really lovely words with me and that experience gives me goosebumps.” Experiences like that, he says, didn’t really happen in One Direction. They wrote some lovely love songs, but there was a real purpose to ‘Two Of Us ', and how people interpret the message and what it means to them is enormously special to Tomlinson.

“I want to be honest as a lyricist,” he says, “and sometimes talk about things that we maybe don’t always talk about. I think it’s important to get those messages out.”

[hlupdate]

A lot has happened since Louis Tomlinson showed up at an audition for British talent show The X Factor in 2010. The resulting boyband One Direction didn’t win the competition but went on to become a worldwide phenomenon, earning the boys a loyal fanbase even after the band decided to go on a hiatus to explore solo-careers.

Since then, Tomlinson has released three stand-alone singles, ‘Just Hold On ’ with Steve Aoki, ‘Back To You ’ with Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals, and the heartfelt ‘Miss You ’. Two years have passed since then, and now Tomlinson is back with a new style of music, new singles, and his debut solo album 'Walls’ on the way. This week, the single ‘We Made It ’ was released, a song written back in 2017 with personal lyrics and a relaxed Britpop feel to it. This is the third single from his forthcoming album, and for Tomlinson, releasing his solo music is a brand new experience.

“It’s completely different,” he says eagerly as he puts away his coat, fresh back in from a bit of fresh air and a lunch break between interviews. “It’s funny ‘cos I’ve got all this experience from the band, but it’s not the same at all!”

This time around, everything he does from writing to recording, making music videos and touring is different. It’s his own words, set to his own music, and done through his choices. But there was a time he wasn’t sure whether this was something he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready to go out and do stuff on his own, he wasn’t ready for the band to go on a hiatus, and the decision for it all to end threw him off balance. So when he decided to pursue a solo career, after all, he went for the music that was the most popular at the time — dance/pop crossovers. “It felt like the easiest way in,” he admits, explaining that the reason he chose to do features for the first few songs was that it gave him a bit of time to tread some water and figure out where he stood in the industry. “I needed that time to work out who I was and what I wanted,” he says, “but I was also making music that I thought I had to make, as opposed to the music I wanted to make.”

Breaking away from the safety of a band and going solo can be as emotionally confusing and tumultuous as breaking out from a long time relationship and being single again. You’re used to your band-persona and who you are as a part of a bigger puzzle, but once away from all that, you have to get to know yourself again and figure out who you are on your own.

Though he was often involved in writing sessions in the band as well, Tomlinson feels writing and creating music got a little bit more precise once it was just him. When writing for a band, you write music with four or five people in mind, it all has to relate to — and fit — them as well. Now, he can narrow it all down to only himself. Your own taste, your own preferences, and your own narrative. Having dropped the dance pop-feel of his initial singles for an indie-infused pop-rock style, Tomlinson's new music reflects his taste in music growing up. Being from the north of England, all the big northern bands had a profound influence on his life. “Like, the closest city to me is Sheffield, which Arctic Monkeys are from,” he says, “so that sound is massive there.”

His previous single, ‘Kill My Mind ’ was intended to be a bit of a statement of intent musically, setting it and him apart from what had been released before. Still, the decision to change his style wasn’t an easy one. He had a lot of industry people, songwriters and producers who didn’t really know him, trying to drag him into a slightly urban sound that he couldn’t relate to, but which is big in America. At one point he realised he’d had enough of those sessions and made the choice to take the reins himself. “I can either try and follow radio and follow the trends there, or I can just do what I love,” he says of the decision, “in the end I just had a word with myself and worked out what success meant to me. Now I just do what I love.”

Still, it took bravery to stand up for himself to the people who tried to steer him into their preferred direction. “You can make the mistake of relying on the expertise around you when, actually, I believe it’s really important just to trust your gut - because nobody knows you better than yourself.”

Going solo is challenging in more ways than just creatively and musically. In a band, you don’t know about all the gears that go into the massive machine you are a part of. Being on your own, it’s all a lot more intricate. “When you’re in a band like One Direction,” Tomlinson says, “we didn’t want for anything. We had everything that we needed.” He knew nothing about things like budget conversations and admits that coming face to face with such issues as a solo artist was a brand new concept for him. The learning curve has been steep, but Tomlinson feels like he’s always been learning as he goes along. “I used to think that I had… I used to get involved creatively in One Direction as well, but now when I look at it in hindsight, it’s nowhere near how much I have to be involved in every single detail.”

But challenges also makes success all the more rewarding, though even amazing experiences are different as a solo artist. A few days before our chat, Tomlinson had played a ten-song headline set in Madrid, Spain, his first-ever. “Other than musicians I played with onstage, it’s hard to explain to anyone what just happened,” he smiles, “as opposed to when you’re in a band and you’re all feeling the same thing. But it definitely makes it more rewarding when I look back on the show and I think about my influence on it. I feel like I’ve been leading up to that gig for as long as I’ve been solo.”

Another thing he’s currently working towards is the release of his debut solo album. He hopes to have it ut early next year and feel like it will be a relief to have it out and be able to tour with it. The album is mostly finished, all the writing is done and only a few more vocals need to be recorded, but after that, what remains is working out the order of the tracks and other details.

Out of the singles put out so far, not many will make it to the album. “The Steve Aoki song [‘Just Hold On ’] is an interesting one ‘cos the melody kinda leans to quite anthemic sounds, so we’re reproducing that to give it a bit more guitar and band-feel,” Tomlinson says, “so that will be on the album in a different version, but other than that, the last three are the only ones that will make it.” And for those eagerly awaiting the debut album, there are more treats on the way. “I’m hoping to release the next single six weeks after ‘We Made It,'” he smiles, “I’ll pretty much try and release music now in the run-up to the album in the new year.”

Leaning back in a comfy chair in the Sony Music offices in central London, Tomlinson is relaxed and cheerful, dressed in comfy all black clothes and chatting intermittently to his label crew. With a direct gaze and a cheeky smile, it’s hard to imagine him ever doubting himself or his own abilities. But when he speaks, there’s a certain vulnerability he’s not afraid of showing. Though experiencing massive success with numerous triumphs, he’s also gone through great losses, heartbreak and grief. And despite his young age and only just starting out as a solo artist, Tomlinson’s songs have unexpected depth and some seriously personal lyrics. The song ‘Two Of Us ’ was written about his late mother Johannah Deakin, who died of Leukemia in December 2016.

“I have a bit of a luxury that where I grew we wear our hearts on our sleeve,” he says, “it’s part of our make up, so it has always come naturally to me. But of course, that is a really tender subject, but since I have the luxury of being confident enough to be able to talk about these things, I think it’s also important to put that message out. Especially as a guy as well.”

“There was this girl at a meet & greet who had just lost her dad and she shared some really lovely words with me and that experience gives me goosebumps.” Experiences like that, he says, didn’t really happen in One Direction. They wrote some lovely love songs, but there was a real purpose to ‘Two Of Us ', and how people interpret the message and what it means to them is enormously special to Tomlinson.

“I want to be honest as a lyricist,” he says, “and sometimes talk about things that we maybe don’t always talk about. I think it’s important to get those messages out.”

[louistomlinsoncouk]

Louis Tomlinson is finding his feet

“You can make the mistake of relying on the expertise around you when it’s important just to trust your gut - because nobody knows you better than yourself.”

A lot has happened since Louis Tomlinson showed up at an audition for British talent show The X Factor in 2010. The resulting boyband One Direction didn’t win the competition but went on to become a worldwide phenomenon, earning the boys a loyal fanbase even after the band decided to go on a hiatus to explore solo-careers. Since then, Tomlinson has released three stand-alone singles, ‘Just Hold On ’ with Steve Aoki, ‘Back To You ’ with Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals, and the heartfelt ‘Miss You ’. Two years have passed since then, and now Tomlinson is back with a new style of music, new singles, and his debut solo album 'Walls’ on the way. This week, the single ‘We Made It ’ was released, a song written back in 2017 with personal lyrics and a relaxed Britpop feel to it. This is the third single from his forthcoming album, and for Tomlinson, releasing his solo music is a brand new experience. “It’s completely different,” he says eagerly as he puts away his coat, fresh back in from a bit of fresh air and a lunch break between interviews. “It’s funny ‘cos I’ve got all this experience from the band, but it’s not the same at all!” This time around, everything he does from writing to recording, making music videos and touring is different. It’s his own words, set to his own music, and done through his choices. But there was a time he wasn’t sure whether this was something he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready to go out and do stuff on his own, he wasn’t ready for the band to go on a hiatus, and the decision for it all to end threw him off balance. So when he decided to pursue a solo career, after all, he went for the music that was the most popular at the time — dance/pop crossovers. “It felt like the easiest way in,” he admits, explaining that the reason he chose to do features for the first few songs was that it gave him a bit of time to tread some water and figure out where he stood in the industry. “I needed that time to work out who I was and what I wanted,” he says, “but I was also making music that I thought I had to make, as opposed to the music I wanted to make.”

Breaking away from the safety of a band and going solo can be as emotionally confusing and tumultuous as breaking out from a long time relationship and being single again. You’re used to your band-persona and who you are as a part of a bigger puzzle, but once away from all that, you have to get to know yourself again and figure out who you are on your own. Though he was often involved in writing sessions in the band as well, Tomlinson feels writing and creating music got a little bit more precise once it was just him. When writing for a band, you write music with four or five people in mind, it all has to relate to — and fit — them as well. Now, he can narrow it all down to only himself. Your own taste, your own preferences, and your own narrative. Having dropped the dance pop-feel of his initial singles for an indie-infused pop-rock style, Tomlinson's new music reflects his taste in music growing up. Being from the north of England, all the big northern bands had a profound influence on his life. “Like, the closest city to me is Sheffield, which Arctic Monkeys are from,” he says, “so that sound is massive there.” His previous single, ‘Kill My Mind ’ was intended to be a bit of a statement of intent musically, setting it and him apart from what had been released before. Still, the decision to change his style wasn’t an easy one. He had a lot of industry people, songwriters and producers who didn’t really know him, trying to drag him into a slightly urban sound that he couldn’t relate to, but which is big in America. At one point he realised he’d had enough of those sessions and made the choice to take the reins himself. “I can either try and follow radio and follow the trends there, or I can just do what I love,” he says of the decision, “in the end I just had a word with myself and worked out what success meant to me. Now I just do what I love.” Still, it took bravery to stand up for himself to the people who tried to steer him into their preferred direction. “You can make the mistake of relying on the expertise around you when, actually, I believe it’s really important just to trust your gut - because nobody knows you better than yourself.” Going solo is challenging in more ways than just creatively and musically. In a band, you don’t know about all the gears that go into the massive machine you are a part of. Being on your own, it’s all a lot more intricate. “When you’re in a band like One Direction,” Tomlinson says, “we didn’t want for anything. We had everything that we needed.” He knew nothing about things like budget conversations and admits that coming face to face with such issues as a solo artist was a brand new concept for him. The learning curve has been steep, but Tomlinson feels like he’s always been learning as he goes along. “I used to think that I had… I used to get involved creatively in One Direction as well, but now when I look at it in hindsight, it’s nowhere near how much I have to be involved in every single detail.” But challenges also makes success all the more rewarding, though even amazing experiences are different as a solo artist. A few days before our chat, Tomlinson had played a ten-song headline set in Madrid, Spain, his first-ever. “Other than musicians I played with onstage, it’s hard to explain to anyone what just happened,” he smiles, “as opposed to when you’re in a band and you’re all feeling the same thing. But it definitely makes it more rewarding when I look back on the show and I think about my influence on it. I feel like I’ve been leading up to that gig for as long as I’ve been solo.” Another thing he’s currently working towards is the release of his debut solo album. He hopes to have it out early next year and feel like it will be a relief to have it out and be able to tour with it. The album is mostly finished, all the writing is done and only a few more vocals need to be recorded, but after that, what remains is working out the order of the tracks and other details. Out of the singles put out so far, not many will make it to the album. “The Steve Aoki song [‘Just Hold On ’] is an interesting one ‘cos the melody kinda leans to quite anthemic sounds, so we’re reproducing that to give it a bit more guitar and band-feel,” Tomlinson says, “so that will be on the album in a different version, but other than that, the last three are the only ones that will make it.” And for those eagerly awaiting the debut album, there are more treats on the way. “I’m hoping to release the next single six weeks after ‘We Made It,'” he smiles, “I’ll pretty much try and release music now in the run-up to the album in the new year.” Leaning back in a comfy chair in the Sony Music offices in central London, Tomlinson is relaxed and cheerful, dressed in comfy all black clothes and chatting intermittently to his label crew. With a direct gaze and a cheeky smile, it’s hard to imagine him ever doubting himself or his own abilities. But when he speaks, there’s a certain vulnerability he’s not afraid of showing. Though experiencing massive success with numerous triumphs, he’s also gone through great losses, heartbreak and grief. And despite his young age and only just starting out as a solo artist, Tomlinson’s songs have unexpected depth and some seriously personal lyrics. The song ‘Two Of Us ’ was written about his late mother Johannah Deakin, who died of Leukemia in December 2016. “I have a bit of a luxury that where I grew we wear our hearts on our sleeve,” he says, “it’s part of our make up, so it has always come naturally to me. But of course, that is a really tender subject, but since I have the luxury of being confident enough to be able to talk about these things, I think it’s also important to put that message out. Especially as a guy as well.” “There was this girl at a meet & greet who had just lost her dad and she shared some really lovely words with me and that experience gives me goosebumps.” Experiences like that, he says, didn’t really happen in One Direction. They wrote some lovely love songs, but there was a real purpose to ‘Two Of Us ', and how people interpret the message and what it means to them is enormously special to Tomlinson. “I want to be honest as a lyricist,” he says, “and sometimes talk about things that we maybe don’t always talk about. I think it’s important to get those messages out.”

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, GRACIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of LADY MACBETH with an approved FC change to Melissa Barrera. Admin Jen: God, I just can’t get over the beautiful, captivating vision you’ve presented to us, Gracie. One can’t think of Lady Macbeth without thinking of the power that she encompasses, and not only did you capture that with such fascinating plots and stellar imagery, you added depth and a crucial touch of humanity to it. She's not just a pawn in a game greater than herself, and she's not just a woman consumed by her wants and desires, either. She’s so much more than that, and we absolutely cannot wait to see her flourish on our dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | gracie

Age | 25

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I am pretty around - work has slowed down majorly and I am looking for a new rp to fill the hole in my heart <3 I am almost always on mobile to plot and chat and I try to write at least every other day

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp?  | scoping out the tags!

Current/Past RP Accounts |

IN CHARACTER

Character | Lady Macbeth, Lucrezia Eleonora Falco nee Capuccio - I’d like to change her face to Summer Bishil pretty please!

What drew you to this character? | I have always held a soft spot for Lady Macbeth. Why are the traits that would be seen as positive, almost heroic, in a man the ones that doom her in the end? Why is she punished for her ambition and cleverness, the willingness to do whatever it takes to get ahead? Lucrezia to me answers the question of what if Lady Macbeth wasn’t condemned and drowned in guilt, what if she was able to remain as much of a force to be reckoned with throughout the whole play, not just the first two acts. Strength, competence, and ambition have far too often been seen as faults in women - in Lucrezia they are her crowning glory. By no means does that make her a good person, it makes her all the more interesting and dynamic. I also truly love that there is no deep violent or horrible reason that she is the way that she is. No tragic villain origin story. It was a deliberate choice, one that I feel she made freely and intentionally, to give into the longing for something more that the rose colored world she was born into. Something interesting and dark, to explore the innate cruelty that anyone can be capable of. I want to play with the darkness and with the idea that a girl could be given everything one could possibly want and still demand more.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Give my rage back to me, I know how to hold it - Men have always sought to own pretty things, and he is no different. Til death do us part, you said with more than a little irony. Who’s death is still uncertain. Your husband wanted you because you were just out of reach, all poison laced smiles and velvet rage in a pleasing package. He held such promise in those days, made the game almost interesting enough for you to want to see it out to the end. And now that he owns you, slipped that diamond shackle on your finger and tattooed his name on your soul, did he really expect you to be happy one step behind him? You are never happy, you force his name higher and farther than he could even dream. But when you plunged your hand into his chest, the organ you pulled out was feeble and pathetic, not nearly strong enough to fill the emptiness inside your own ribs. You are a creature of rage, he knew what he was getting into. His heart did not satisfy your hunger, in fact it only made you all the more starved. You will taste every heart in Verona if you have to, and he has no one to blame but himself.

[ I love a twisty and toxic relationship! Mikael did not gave her a taste for blood and destruction, but he increased her lust and refined her palate. Lucrezia wants to play with her food and conquests, twisting the knife deeper and deeper until their heart slips freely into her stained hands. Rage is her tool and I want to explore her being held back and fighting against her husband or anyone who tries to tame and control her. I also want to see the consequences of reaching too far or biting into a heart that is perhaps more poisonous than her own ]

All that hard, glossy armor - You watch them call her names you yourself wear like badges of honor and see her flinch at every verbal dagger. You are not one to care for other people, you never have. Perhaps you see yourself in her, or what you might have become if you did not learn early to love the darkness for what it was, not what you wished it to be. You crafted your armor, lovingly cultivated this reputation into a weapon. You attack first, and if they are dumb enough to hit back they find anger and armor all the way down. She needs your help, a decision that surprises even you. Maybe you are bored, and think it might be interesting to try and create someone for once instead of destroying. You will teach her to take their venomous barbs and learn to love the sting until she has built up her own armor. And what if, in the middle of this, she discovers a tiny crack in yours?

[ Gals helping gals we love to see it! This is an opportunity to explore Lucrezia’s armor and reputation - how she built it and what might threaten it. I want to play out what happens when someone finds a chink in hers - originally based on the Delilah connection, but could work for anyone who can get close enough. The inner turmoil of her trying not to care then realizing that she does and dealing with the repercussions of this is something I definitely want to explore! Give her a weakness, or someone else to see past what she projects and tries to be, maybe they can use this to hurt her or maybe they actually care. I want to test the strength of all that hard, glossy armor. ]

Then why does it feel like I’m losing my mind? - Madness sings from the blood of every woman, your mother once said, imploring you to resist its call. Can there be such a thing as too much love? Too much attention and coddling? Maybe you learned to love the cruelty and darkness just to spite them. They obsessed over the porcelain doll they thought you were, smothering and controlling and loving all too much. You learned to crave the thrill of chaos, the high that came from taking this love and holding it over their heads like a whip. And they made it so delightfully easy, tracing out the lines so clearly they were practically begging you to cross and smudge them. Because despite all that they tried to teach, all the loving words and sickly sweet affection, you knew you could never be enough. Even if you did exactly what they asked, dampened down the parts of you that were dark and interesting, resisted madness and her pretty call; you would never be enough. Perfection is utterly unattainable, to strive for it is a type of madness itself. If you are going to miss the mark, it might as well be deliberate and enjoyable. But guilt is a ghost who has followed you throughout your life, singing her own sort of haunting refrain. You tried to cut that part of you away and were mostly successful. She still finds you in quiet moments, crashing in with an alien emotion, methodically clawing away at that armor. You will not allow this imagined weakness to threaten everything you have built and so you double down on your devotion, cutting away that traitorous part of your mind again and again until maybe there is nothing left.

[ Guilt and madness and paying the price for ambition are huge parts of Lady Macbeth’s play arc and I want to explore Lucrezia fighting against these. “Madness” and “losing ones mind” seem to be the end, the punishment given for reaching too far. But what if they are a choice one makes to get there? Another tool like beauty and sex used to get ahead. I want to play with Lucrezia balancing right on that line between control and the loss of it. Likely her own actions and weaknesses will lead to some sort of confrontation, maybe an internal battle that leaks out to threaten her plans and ambitions. Is the idea of madness a choice one can make or simply the result of other choices? I want to see what happens when she is forced to deal with the consequences of her actions and choices, a reckoning for her rage. ]

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes probably but I am fairly attached to her so I’d like to have plenty of time to play first. I don’t really want her to meet the same end as her literary namesake, ie if Lucrezia is to die, I would like it to not be by her own hand.

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

“Twelfth Night Museum in the early morning,” she responded without hesitating, the truth flowing almost as easily as a lie. “I like the stillness and the silence, there’s a sense of peace that is hard to find elsewhere.” At this Lucrezia smirked at her questioner, peace was rare in such a tumultuous city. And for those who knew her well as an agent of controlled chaos (and even those who only knew of her), even the word peace sounded unnatural on those red lips. It was meant to be an offhanded question by some eager tourist looking for the locals perspective - ( Note: since when did she give off the approachable ‘ask-me-for-recommendations’ vibe? Lucrezia needed another espresso and quickly ) - but it lingered even after he was long gone. It wasn’t peace, she decided, there had always been a bit of unease in the empty museum, like she was intruding on a sacred crypt for the gods. Those moments in the early mornings seemed to exist outside of the normal confines of time and space, Lucrezia could walk through all ages at the same time. She almost expected to see the old masters adding a final touch while the elements whether away details on a nearby marble bust. Maybe that was why she loved it so much, a place both haunted by the weight of history and expectations while utterly, achingly empty. The museum held some sort contradictions as Lucrezia herself, and perhaps she wanted to co-exist just as beautifully.

What does your typical day look like?

“I certainly hope there isn’t a ‘typical day’, that would be so boring,” she resisted rolling her eyes, “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting something different is a type of madness, is it not? So I would hope to never be typical.” Still, the questions seemed to have been asked in good faith, so Lucrezia sighed a bit dramatically and continued. “I guess I have to wake up every day, sometimes early sometimes late - it depends.” She had never been good at sleeping well, the task of quieting her own mind daunting but not nearly as exhausting as she wished. “And then I go to work. Or I go to the museum, I always make sure to find time to be alone and surrounded by beauty - art, music, places, maybe another person.” Her smirk was laced with honey but her eyes flashed in a warning. “Work is never boring, there is always something new.” Lucrezia did not expand on this, her companion did not need all the details regardless of how she longed to brag. Because she was very good at her job and thought that was something she should be praised for. Charm was second nature, she was expert at the delicate blending of flattery and threats. More than that - it was a game, the give and take of honeyed words balanced with a sudden shift to cold cruelty. And Lucrezia loved to win. “And then I come home to my adoring husband who loves to take me out.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far? (Tw self harm kinda)

Lucrezia laughed harshly, “Getting married at eighteen” She spun that huge diamond around her finger, a nervous habit, feeling the bite of the gem in the well worn callous on her palm. She loved the ring, she liked the sharp edge. The pain kept her grounded, reminded her of the goal. She would sometimes count - one turn for every year with him. Ten to right, then ten more to the left, and she was back smile in place, momentary lapse in control gone. Mikael served a purpose, she knew this, even that young she wasn’t so stupid as to throw her life away on something as meaningless as infatuation that could be mistaken for love. His name gave her access, status her father’s could not. And he so prettily sank to his knees for her, feeding into that innate desire for power - her driving force. The strangest part? She’d made the initial mistake of showing too much, of letting him see too much of who she was, the rage and cruelty and force. And instead of running, instead of longing for the pretty smile and charming mask - he saw her for who she was, and wanted her even more for it. Lucrezia looked down at her hands, the ring still twisting - eight, nine, ten - and then back up at the questioner. “I just mean I was too young, we should have waited a bit more.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“Oh, I don’t know,” she waved an errant hand, as if to dismiss the question. “Probably some negotiation with a particularly horrible client. I am sure it was difficult and tiresome, but I persisted and won, naturally.” A lie, they surely knew that it was, but she wasn’t about to attempt to unpack the particular traumas of a picture perfect childhood. Because the most difficult task had always been the first one asked of her, the most spectacular failure of her life. Little Lucrezia Capuccio with her chocolate curls and wild gaze tasked with lessening herself, carving out anything interesting, shrinking and molding herself to fit into their expectations - the porcelain doll daughter they thought they deserved. She was a creature of rage, even then. And when they begged her to stop, to peel away parts of her self to please them - Lucrezia set fire to anything good and pure that might have remained inside her. They had it wrong, though, when they pleaded for her to be their little angel. Angels had always been vengeful, violent spirits - sent by God to punish, to kill, to make an example. There is nothing soft, simpering, or good about a creature who’s wings have always been dipped in blood.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

“War seems like a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” She took a sip of her drink, “it is not so far reaching and tragic as all that.” She knew her side, had chosen carefully. Mikael had been her way in, but she’d long ago outranked him. But she had never had time for such dualities as black and white, good and evil; the battle-lines were far messier than the poets would have you believe. And that was the best part about choosing, she wasn’t bound to a side with anything as weighty and meaningful as blood or history. Lucrezia chose, and she would continue to chose - the next right thing, the next fortuitous position. One could only ever truly be loyal to oneself, any other pledge would alway eventually become a lie. “This situation,” she chose this word carefully, “provides opportunity for those who are able and willing to take it. We all want the same thing, right? What is best for those we love and our dear, fair Verona.”

In-Character Para Sample: Again, write as much or as little as you need to get your interpretation across.

(Tw mention of violence, tw blood)

On her wedding night, the newly minted Mrs. Mikael Falco considered killing her husband.

There wasn’t any particular reason, it was just the fact that she could. She wasn’t unfamiliar with violence, having dipped her toe in those depths more than once, but the particular sin of murdering one’s husband called out like a deliciously dramatic turn of events. Lucrezia thought she might make an excellent widow, she’d perfected false tears that still left her beautiful long ago. She could play vengeful, demanding the city run red with the blood of her husband’s killer. It could be a nice spark, instigating more chaos and violence between factions, an opportunity to climb even higher, not to mention how entertaining it would be to watch.

He looked so peaceful sleeping like this. Lucrezia watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with every breath. She felt a sudden desire to touch him, to trail her fingers lightly along the outlines of his muscles, to trace the marks her nails had left earlier and then to press down harder and harder until he awoke and forced her to stop. Instead she grabbed the glass of wine from the bedside table, cradling it in both her hands to take a too large sip. Some heavy red, she remembered, not her favorite. Surely he would have learned her preferences by now, beyond the exquisite things his hands and mouth could do to her body. Then again, she might not have ever told him what wine she liked. Not that ignorance was an excuse she would accept.

Was being served the wrong type of wine offense enough to warrant the death of one’s husband? Asking for a friend.

Lucrezia took another sip of the disappointing wine and idly wondered if he’d ever thought the same of her. She wasn’t afraid of him, he wouldn’t have the balls to go through with it he was far too devoted - something she’d made certain of before saying yes. It was the headiest type of high to watch him carve it out himself and willingly place his protesting heart in her hands. She often tried to replicate that initial thrill and occasionally she got close, but never quite the same heights. Taking his life would surely do it, an incredible rush buzzing across her skin if she were to actually stain it with his blood. But it would be just as short lived as the last.

Since she was indulging this little fantasy, she might as well consider the details - she was nothing if not a very thorough planner. It wouldn’t be with a gun, the weight and heft of the weapon always felt wrong in her hand. And that was such a clinical, distanced way to harm. Lucrezia preferred a knife. Their intimacy had always teetered just on the edge of violence, he might not even realize her intentions until it was too late. And maybe, she let her self think for a fraction of a second, it was how he wanted to go. Mikael knew her better than anyone else, he saw her for exactly what she was and loved her anyway. It was almost frightening.

Fear and guilt are sisters - or so Shirley Jackson told her.

She finished the wine and reached over to place the glass on the table. Her husband stirred, his fingers twisting in her dark hair and Lucrezia let herself be pulled back into his arms.

“What are you thinking?” Even his half asleep whisper sent a spark of something down her spine and she smiled that arcane, cruel smile she knew drove him mad.

“I was wondering if I could be strong enough to kill you if I needed to.” Her honestly startled her, something about him caused intimacy and vulnerability. Or maybe she’d had too much to drink. He laughed then moved swiftly, rolling over on top of her while pinning both her wrists above her head with just one of his hands. The other gently caressed the side of her face and she met his burning gaze, wondering if her own eyes looked empty. He did not ask if she’d decided. She didn’t know if he thought she was joking.

He kissed her, hard, biting down on her bottom lip until she tasted her own blood and let out a gasp of desire. No, Lucrezia thought, I don’t think I could kill him. She reasoned that she would never be able to top that power rush, that he could still prove useful and the sex was excellent so best to keep him around. But really, she would be lost without his devotion, his obsessive love.

The gods only die when there is no one left to worship their names.

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/gracieewrites/lucrezia-f/

[silentprocession]

Well let’s see

When’s the last time I updated you about my life?

I’m at my laptop this time so I can write a bit better than when I’m on my phone

Late at night with you stuck in my head

This update deserves some punctuation, eh?

I met this boy last December at a dnd campaign my friend had invited me to. He sat diagonally across from me and though I hadn’t put two and two together yet, my friend had already told me a few stories about this co-worker now fellow dnd player. Such as that David had gone through a rather unsettling divorce recently and had, effectively, been forced to return to his parent’s house. One night after game, we’re walking to our cars and begin speaking. Since it was December, and the holidays were coming up, he mentioned he really had no plans because of his situation and I invited him to Christmas with my family. You remember how welcoming Jen and Damian are, they still ask about you every now and then btw.

So, he takes me up on the offer, and after talking for hours upon hours in the days following before Christmas he asked me out to just hang one on one. No one said the ‘date’ word yet. We went out to Meriden to see the Christmas light display, the one at Castle Craig. I fucking LIVE for that drive through the park with all the different strung lights of animals and carriages and stars, and we continued to bond over how none of our other friends were interested in seeing it like we were, and were respectively going to see it ourselves had we not gone together.

The night goes amazing, we end up back at my place to continue talking through the night, at which point we mutually decided it had been a date. Due to the late affirmation though, it wasn’t a full date, but a quasi-date.

Fast forward some time, we’re talking and hanging out and have fulfilled a few more quasi-dates. I’m dating Rob at this point in an open poly relationship, Rob from all these years and I are together again and have worked through SO MUCH and the open poly amorous arrangement is working. He doesn’t know how to handle this completely, though takes it in stride, and in the end after more talking and seeing each other I decide I don’t want to date.

Oh, let’s throw in another wrench though.

I start dating a boy named Erik in the mean time, who from the beginning I KNOW I got into way too quick. We weren’t even talking for a month before we started dating and I was so uncomfortable but got swept up in new relationship milk and honey. He’s very sweet and artistic, he’s caring and anxious and adventurous. He’s an amazing cook. He’s so SO messy, I found out I couldn’t really talk to him about things the way I wanted to be able to, I was stressed at work and his reaction was either try to make me laugh with jokes that didn’t always land or, when I asked for space, not know how to give me space. It got drawn out because, unfortunately, when the Coronavirus hit his mother was in a facility and was exposed and then, subsequently, passed away. They put her building on lock down from visitors the day before I was supposed to meet her.

In the mean time? David has lightly moved in with me, as a respite from his tumultuous parent’s house and for some room to breathe. Also, why not help create a neutral space for someone you care about if you have the ability?

What happens next? David’s father passes away unexpectedly. Like in the middle of the night. I go to the funeral with him because he wanted me there and then he comes back to my place for time away from family/friends and to get his mind off of... well, everything.

After Erik’s mom died it became more abundantly clear that he and I didn’t work and the virus put even more of a damper on me trying to see him in person because I’m an essential healthcare worker. I’m exposed everyday, I can’t have visitors to my own apartment and his brother doesn’t want me coming over. David pretty much lives here now so he doesn’t count. Erik pointed out how strained we were, we talked and talked, and that was it. I felt anxious from the beginning because I really want to KNOW someone before deciding to date them, dating his so fast was not like me for this very reason. I’ll know quickly if I’m not gonna stand someone and here we are. A month later and down the drain, #sorrynotsorry

David continues to live with me. He slowly moves things in. I’m off from work because of being directly exposed, we’re spending more time together on projects and cooking and staying up all night talking. He’s rather cute, he’s very nice and our humor matches too well. I laugh until I cry or start wheezing. We’ve dyed each other’s hair and he let me cut his. We’ve planted flowers together and have more planned.

He likes pillow talk, especially when I’m half asleep. He told me he fell in love with me, and after mulling it over for quite a while in my head it just made sense to date. Telling everyone how we got along “as room mates” didn’t feel right anymore. As my boyfriend? Yeah, it made more sense. And, I quite like this boy.

Does that answer your questions?

This is only one part of my life that I want to tell you about

There’s always so much more going on that I want you to know

I wish we could still write letters to each other

Or text

Or fucking smoke signals

Something

I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie Brokeback Mountain

I re-watched it the other night

It makes me cry every time

But the ending this time made me cry even harder

At the end when these two lovers have tried for 20something YEARS to be together and just can’t

And Ennis has to go to Jack’s parent’s house to try to scatter his ashes on the mountain that was their solitude

Their quiet place they could be themselves and be together

In this perfect love

When he goes to meet the parents of his dead lover that he never got to fulfill a life together in the open

And clutch the shirt he thought he’d lost years before but Jack had held onto

I thought of you

But enough about me

What was the question of the day at work?

What part of our wild city trip did you think of?

Miss you Mr.

<3

[dreamings-free]

By Alyssa Nilsen Published: 26.10.19

A lot has happened since Louis Tomlinson showed up at an audition for British talent show The X Factor in 2010. The resulting boyband One Direction didn’t win the competition but went on to become a worldwide phenomenon, earning the boys a loyal fanbase even after the band decided to go on a hiatus to explore solo-careers. Since then, Tomlinson has released three stand-alone singles, ‘Just Hold On ’ with Steve Aoki, ‘Back To You ’ with Bebe Rexha and Digital Farm Animals, and the heartfelt ‘Miss You ’. Two years have passed since then, and now Tomlinson is back with a new style of music, new singles, and his debut solo album 'Walls’  on the way. This week, the single ‘We Made It ’ was released, a song written back in 2017 with personal lyrics and a relaxed Britpop feel to it. This is the third single from his forthcoming album, and for Tomlinson, releasing his solo music is a brand new experience. “It’s completely different,” he says eagerly as he puts away his coat, fresh back in from a bit of fresh air and a lunch break between interviews. “It’s funny ‘cos I’ve got all this experience from the band, but it’s not the same at all!”

This time around, everything he does from writing to recording, making music videos and touring is different. It’s his own words, set to his own music, and done through his choices. But there was a time he wasn’t sure whether this was something he wanted to do. He wasn’t ready to go out and do stuff on his own, he wasn’t ready for the band to go on a hiatus, and the decision for it all to end threw him off balance. So when he decided to pursue a solo career, after all, he went for the music that was the most popular at the time — dance/pop crossovers. “It felt like the easiest way in,” he admits, explaining that the reason he chose to do features for the first few songs was that it gave him a bit of time to tread some water and figure out where he stood in the industry. “I needed that time to work out who I was and what I wanted,” he says, “but I was also making music that I thought I had to make, as opposed to the music I wanted to make.”

Breaking away from the safety of a band and going solo can be as emotionally confusing and tumultuous as breaking out from a long time relationship and being single again. You’re used to your band-persona and who you are as a part of a bigger puzzle, but once away from all that, you have to get to know yourself again and figure out who you are on your own. Though he was often involved in writing sessions in the band as well, Tomlinson feels writing and creating music got a little bit more precise once it was just him. When writing for a band, you write music with four or five people in mind, it all has to relate to — and fit — them as well. Now, he can narrow it all down to only himself. Your own taste, your own preferences, and your own narrative. Having dropped the dance pop-feel of his initial singles for an indie-infused pop-rock style, Tomlinson's new music reflects his taste in music growing up. Being from the north of England, all the big northern bands had a profound influence on his life. “Like, the closest city to me is Sheffield, which Arctic Monkeys are from,” he says, “so that sound is massive there.” His previous single, ‘Kill My Mind ’ was intended to be a bit of a statement of intent musically, setting it and him apart from what had been released before. Still, the decision to change his style wasn’t an easy one. He had a lot of industry people, songwriters and producers who didn’t really know him, trying to drag him into a slightly urban sound that he couldn’t relate to, but which is big in America. At one point he realised he’d had enough of those sessions and made the choice to take the reins himself. “I can either try and follow radio and follow the trends there, or I can just do what I love,” he says of the decision, “in the end I just had a word with myself and worked out what success meant to me. Now I just do what I love.” Still, it took bravery to stand up for himself to the people who tried to steer him into their preferred direction. “You can make the mistake of relying on the expertise around you when, actually, I believe it’s really important just to trust your gut - because nobody knows you better than yourself.”

Going solo is challenging in more ways than just creatively and musically. In a band, you don’t know about all the gears that go into the massive machine you are a part of. Being on your own, it’s all a lot more intricate. “When you’re in a band like One Direction,” Tomlinson says, “we didn’t want for anything. We had everything that we needed.” He knew nothing about things like budget conversations and admits that coming face to face with such issues as a solo artist was a brand new concept for him. The learning curve has been steep, but Tomlinson feels like he’s always been learning as he goes along. “I used to think that I had… I used to get involved creatively in One Direction as well, but now when I look at it in hindsight, it’s nowhere near how much I have to be involved in every single detail.” But challenges also makes success all the more rewarding, though even amazing experiences are different as a solo artist. A few days before our chat, Tomlinson had played a ten-song headline set in Madrid, Spain, his first-ever. “Other than musicians I played with onstage, it’s hard to explain to anyone what just happened,” he smiles, “as opposed to when you’re in a band and you’re all feeling the same thing. But it definitely makes it more rewarding when I look back on the show and I think about my influence on it. I feel like I’ve been leading up to that gig for as long as I’ve been solo.” Another thing he’s currently working towards is the release of his debut solo album. He hopes to have it ut early next year and feel like it will be a relief to have it out and be able to tour with it. The album is mostly finished, all the writing is done and only a few more vocals need to be recorded, but after that, what remains is working out the order of the tracks and other details. Out of the singles put out so far, not many will make it to the album. “The Steve Aoki song [‘Just Hold On ’] is an interesting one ‘cos the melody kinda leans to quite anthemic sounds, so we’re reproducing that to give it a bit more guitar and band-feel,” Tomlinson says, “so that will be on the album in a different version, but other than that, the last three are the only ones that will make it.” And for those eagerly awaiting the debut album, there are more treats on the way. “I’m hoping to release the next single six weeks after ‘We Made It,'” he smiles, “I’ll pretty much try and release music now in the run-up to the album in the new year.”

Leaning back in a comfy chair in the Sony Music offices in central London, Tomlinson is relaxed and cheerful, dressed in comfy all black clothes and chatting intermittently to his label crew. With a direct gaze and a cheeky smile, it’s hard to imagine him ever doubting himself or his own abilities. But when he speaks, there’s a certain vulnerability he’s not afraid of showing. Though experiencing massive success with numerous triumphs, he’s also gone through great losses, heartbreak and grief. And despite his young age and only just starting out as a solo artist, Tomlinson’s songs have unexpected depth and some seriously personal lyrics. The song ‘Two Of Us ’ was written about his late mother Johannah Deakin, who died of Leukemia in December 2016. “I have a bit of a luxury that where I grew we wear our hearts on our sleeve,” he says, “it’s part of our make up, so it has always come naturally to me. But of course, that is a really tender subject, but since I have the luxury of being confident enough to be able to talk about these things, I think it’s also important to put that message out. Especially as a guy as well.” “There was this girl at a meet & greet who had just lost her dad and she shared some really lovely words with me and that experience gives me goosebumps.” Experiences like that, he says, didn’t really happen in One Direction. They wrote some lovely love songs, but there was a real purpose to ‘Two Of Us ', and how people interpret the message and what it means to them is enormously special to Tomlinson. “I want to be honest as a lyricist,” he says, “and sometimes talk about things that we maybe don’t always talk about. I think it’s important to get those messages out.”

( article available in Norwegian here )

[ts1989fanatic]

A more in depth personal review of Lover, the album dropped last week and because I had issues downloading it from iTunes (what else is new) I did not really have time for anything other than a cursory listen before heading to bed.

So now a week has past and I have had more than a few listens (who am I kidding) a hella lot more than a few, my wife and I went on a road trip Sunday 250 Blissful Kilometers of just me and my Lovers.

Still a little haunted by Soon You’ll Get Better I was very emotional after listening to this song and still am truth be told, almost everyone has that person in their life who has been touched by cancer. And just like Taylor when it’s someone close to you like a parent or a Lover it’s downright terrifying.

Lover the parent as opposed to Lover the child (more on her later) is a more mature in control Taylor Swift bringing us the wild abandon of Red’s lay it all out on the floor with the sonic cohesion achieved with 1989.

To me Lover nods in passing to reputation, but as I listen to the album in more depth it to me is a continuation of where Taylor was heading after 1989, it still holds a little shade in the finger snapping I forgot That You Existed a song all about as Taylor herself has said letting go and stepping into the daylight don’t confront the haters and exes just be indifferent to them it’s a lot less toxic.

If there is one consistency on Lover, though: it’s Taylor’s love for, love. The entire album is predominantly romantic and seems to track the timeline of a relationship, from its beginnings to the final realization that the situation is serious. Taylor leaves it up to us the listener to theorize that Lover is about her relationship with Joe Alwyn.

There’s nothing on Lover that mentions him directly but there is more than enough within the lyrics on various songs to speculate. Half the fun of being a Swiftie is coming up with theories, you have your opinions I have mine. So go through the track by track list below and decide for yourself what song is about who.

“I Forgot That You Existed”

Taylor starts Lover not with a love song, but a song in which Taylor Swift seems to have moved past the drama on “I Forgot You Existed.” Who it is heavily speculated on that this song is about CH, is it only Taylor herself really knows. Looking at the lyrics it could also be about any of her exes that did not end the relationship on the best of terms.

“How many days did I spend thinking about how you did me wrong?” “I lived in the shade you were throwing till all of my sunshine was gone.” Then in the chorus she declares, “I forgot that you existed, and I thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t the meaning behind this song for me? Taylor has shed the snakeskin from the reputation era and is has moved on not with hate or anger JUST INDIFFERENCE

“Cruel Summer”

Those early flirtatious sometimes tumultuous stages early on in a new relationship. “It’s new, the shape of your body. It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got,” “It’s cool, that’s what I tell him. No rules…. We say we’ll just screw it up. In these trying times, we’re not trying.” This speaks to the drama that can happen in any new relationship before things stabilize and you can think about introducing them to friends and family.

“Lover”

To me this song and video are a throwback to the 70’s era country songs about love that I grew up on and after listening to Keith Urban cover it live you can see how it would be a smash on country radio stations. These lyrics cry out COUNTRY to me.

“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” she sings later on. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? ’ve loved you three summers. Now, honey, I want ’em all.”

“The Man”

Not a love story, here, on “The Man.” Here more of a social commentary on society in general and the gender bias that still exist today despite the best efforts of a lot of WOKE people.

Taylor highlights how her career and reputation would have played out in the media if she were born a man rather than being named after one.

“Every conquest I made would make me more of a boss to you,” “I’d be just like Leo in Saint Tropez.”

“They wouldn’t shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve, what I was wearing, if I was rude…. If I was a man, I’d be the man.”

“The Man” is one of the boppiest bop on Lover and deserves to be the next single.

“The Archer”

On “The Archer,” Taylor finds herself questioning her situation with her partner. Is it the real? How long will it last? These are relatable questions most of us ask once the honeymoon phase of a relationship draws to a close. “They see right through me. Can you see right through me?” Taylor sings. “Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?”

“I Think He Knows”

By the time Taylor reaches this song,” She has answered that question: she wants her new relationship to work, and she’s not afraid to say so. “I think he knows when we get all alone, he’ll want me to stay,” “I think he knows he better lock it down, or I won’t stick around” cause good ones never wait.”

“Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”

Some see this as a love song, personally I see it more as a protest song, Taylor has become much more political and outspoken on the issues since Trump took office  this is an “us against the administration” mind-set. At first listen it may not sound like a protest song, but to me and I follow US politics very closely it certainly speaks to what has happened over the last few years.

When the White House responds to a song then I think you can safely say DAMN STRAIGHT it’s a protest song. Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince is not a Rage Against The Machine protest song, it’s a song full of metaphors and because of this it draws you in and makes you listen closely and get behind and beneath the symbolism.

“American glory Faded before me now I’m feeling Hopless”

“Paper Rings”

Taylor joking about marrying her lover one day or is she joking. “I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. That’s right, darling. You’re the one I want,” definitely a love song about a serious relationship, does it mean Taylor and Joe are engaged (not according to Tree)

 “Cornelia Street”

“Cornelia Street” is when our story takes a dramatic turn.  It’s important to know that, at one point, Taylor rented a carriage house on Cornelia Street in New York City while her place was being renovated. The lyrics of this song suggest Taylor associates Cornelia Street with a relationship getting more intense.

“I hope I never lose you. Hope it never ends. I never want Cornelia Street again,” “That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend.”

“Death by a Thousand Cuts”

This comes through as a breakup song, but a breakup with who not Joe from all appearances, possibly to a past relationship. “I get drunk, but it’s not enough, ’cause the morning comes and you’re not my baby,” Taylor sings shortly after saying, “Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts.

"I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up” and “You said it was a great love, one for the ages. But if this story’s over, why am I still writing pages?”

“London Boy”

With a Cat’s co-star cameo from Idris Elba, Taylor is back to singing about love of a guy and a city, not with great accuracy I might add as an ex-pat who lived and worked in London for ten years. But hey she’s a writer and allowed poetic license.

“Something happened, I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples, first, and then I heard the accent,” “They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. You know I love a London boy.”

“Soon You’ll Get Better” (featuring Dixie Chicks)

Sorry for the language but this song fucked me up, Still a little haunted by it. I was very emotional after listening to this song and still am truth be told, almost everyone has that person in their life who has been touched by cancer. And just like Taylor when it’s someone close to you like a parent or a Lover it’s downright terrifying. I lost my mother to cancer my father in law to cancer and the love of my life has been diagnosed three times twice benign once malignant (God that’s an ugly word)

“In doctor’s office lighting, I didn’t tell you I was scared,” “Soon you’ll get better. You’ll get better soon, ’cause you have to.”

If I am honest here I really want to fast forward past this song but it’s so emotional and raw that I find myself having to listen to it over again.

“False God”

On “False God,” Taylor recognizes the issues that can lead to the breakup as in “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

“I know heaven’s a thing. I go there when you touch me. Hell is when I fight with you,” “But we can patch it up good.” She doesn’t dig any deeper here, though. That comes later.

“You Need to Calm Down”

After the backlash Taylor faced from 2016 she found her voice not just in speaking out about equality but encapsulating it into her music. YNTCD is a synth heavy pop bop that calls out Internet Trolls and boldly champions the LGBTQ community, franklt it’s a fucking bop with a message and both my wife and love it.

“Say it in the street, that’s a knock-out” “But you say it in a Tweet that’s a cop-out” (advice to live by Mr. President)

“Afterglow”

“Afterglow” Is an apology song.” Here Taylor opens up about how a relationship can implode with a partner and the role her own behaviour played in it imploding. “I blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue,” she sings. “I put you in jail for something you didn’t do…. Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves.” “Why’d I have to break what I love so much? It’s on your face, and I’m to blame,” “Hey, it’s on me in my head. I’m the one who burned this down, but it’s not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you.”

“Me!” (featuring Brendon Urie of Panic! at the Disco)

A tongue-in-cheek, extension of “Afterglow.”here Taylor can laugh about the drama. Not only that but she own up to her faults on this song, Taylor lays out that it’s those faults that make her the perfect match for someone.

“I know that I went psycho on the phone. I never leave well enough alone. And trouble’s gonna follow where I go,” “Afterglow.” “Baby doll, when it comes to a lover. I promise that you’ll never find another like me.”

“It’s Nice to Have a Friend”

A lot of the theories I have seen about this one revolve around her relationship with Joe “Church bells ring. Carry me home. Rice on the ground, looks like snow.” It certainly sounds like they might be gearing up for that next step. But I don’t read this the same way, it reads more like a first love narrative.

“Sidewalk chalk covered in snow lost my gloves, you gave me one” “Twenty questions, we tell the truth”

“Daylight”

A dreamy romantic song that is filled with words one would say on their wedding day or just after getting married. They sound a lot like vows. “I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you. I don’t want to think of anything else now that I’ve thought of you. I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, and now I see daylight.”

Taylor says “I want to be defined by the things that I love. Not the things I hate. Not the things I’m afraid of, or the things that haunt me in the middle of the night. I just think that you are what you love.”

This is Taylor Swift at her ultimate best, crafting lyrics that we can all relate to at whatever stage of your relationship you are in. This is Speak Now and Fearless Taylor all grown up but still crafting a story of life with her lyrics in her own unique way.

Where reputation was dark and moody even though in my opinion still a very relatable album, who has never faced criticism and wished that they had the skills heart and wit to respond as Taylor did, Lover is all vivid colors and predominantly bright and cheerful music with certain exceptions this is Taylor in full flow and form. Taylor the story teller Taylor the lyrical master Taylor the ARTIST.

[fallen029]

Dragon’s Roar: Lonely

He was born in a tumultuous time. From the financial distress to the actual stress that his parents' marriage was undergoing, he was hardly a welcomed blessing. But a blessing all the same. All babies were, after all, his mother assured herself many times. And even when they weren't, his father did much the same, they were still an important step in building a legacy.

And Laxus Dreyar was building a legacy.

None of this was ever felt by the boy, however. If anything, he felt more connected to his parents than he would in a normal circumstance.

It helped that, a lot of times, they were some of his only playmates. From the time he could toddle about, his days were spent exploring the crevices and hidden secrets of the decrepit old building his parents were in a constant state of renovating. He enjoyed the days when most the hall was empty and his mother and father had time to race his toy cars around the wooden guild house just as much as he enjoyed the solitude down in the cellar, where it was cold and damp and full of all sorts of interesting critters.

"And monsters," Laxus half-heartily warned when Mira complained a bit about not wanting him down there.

It served to deter him...for a bit. But he always found his way back there.

"You're an adventurous, precocious growing boy," Freed assured him. "It's quite reasonable that, with such an imagination, you are not sustained through normal means."

"Like me," Bickslow added with a grin, "as a child. Now, even."

Not liking this assertion, Freed remarked, "He is nothing like you, Bickslow. I assure you."

"And he's also none of the things that you called him anyways." Evergreen, who of course was seated at the table with the two me, stared at the little boy from behind her hand fan as she remarked, "You're not special. No one is."

He liked them. The three of them. They were all gone frequently, off on jobs, but when they were around, whether it was just one, two, or even all three of them around, each found time for him. In their own special ways.

Bickslow was, honestly, closer to what a real friend his age would be, for each and every age he had, were he allowed to have normal relationships with others. But given that most of the members of their guildhall were either single or estranged from their families, he didn't have many chances to meet other kids. When all he liked to do was stack blocks, well, hey, Bickslow had some perfectly stackable babies right there! Action figures? He loved to play with those! And build forts and play hide and seek and annoy the fuck out of Laxus. All of the boy's favorite pastimes.

He was around more often than the other two also, Bickslow was, which also helped strengthen their relationship. He was someone to play pretend and sneak junk food with. Not the best role model, perhaps not even one at all, but a fine guy to spend hours playing space ship verses space monster with.

Freed was different. Because he was, literally, different. He was very studious and expected the mostly left to his own devices child to be also. He tried hard to be, honestly, the boy really did, but sometimes letters and numbers and books and art and conversation that exceeded the scope of whether hamburgers or hotdogs were better. Every time Freed returned, recently, he had a whole new book for him to read and expected him to have finished the other one and wow, why did he like when the guy came around again?

For all the same reasons, honestly. He had an equal distaste for doing his letters and numbers and reading as he did love. He liked when his father would pat him on the head and tell him that, hey, he sure was getting smart. Or when his mother would giggle and remark that she never took such an interest in writing and wow, it was almost legible.

Evergreen wasn't as much a playmate or a teacher, as the two men were, but just as close to being a friend to the boy as either. If Bickslow was mostly around and Freed was typically gone, then Evergreen fell somewhere in the middle. He neither expected nor didn't expect her to be around, when he awoke in the mornings. If she was down there, flipping through a magazine when he awoke or sipping some wine after his nap time, he was ecstatic. If she weren't though, or had disappeared in the interim without mentioning it to him, he never cared much.

He figured she felt the same about him, honestly. If he was there, great. If not, also great.

She mostly liked to take him shopping with her. It was really the only times that he got to leave the decaying town his guildhall claimed as home other than when his mother would take him into Magnolia. Aunt Ever knew many other towns though, to travel by train to, where varieties of shops awaited them. Usually, if he was very good, she'd deviate from their typical clothing store and take him into a toy shop.

She did complain the entire time, but he always seemed to take her utter distaste as slight ribbing.

It would be a lie, however, to say that he didn't get lonely sometimes. When the bar was getting slammed, so his mother had to work, his father was locked away on very important business in his office, and those three were off on jobs, fine, usually he found ways to entertain himself, but being the only kid on the property (the town, mostly, it felt like) really was driven home when no one was around to play with. You can only read the same books, play with the same toys, and explore the same area so many times.

When he was about seven, however, something pretty monuments happened.

He was up early that morning, mostly because his parents were up early that morning, and was sitting up at the bar, eating his breakfast. His mother was behind it, hardly listening as he told her about a funny joke Bickslow had told her (if she had, she'd have been very upset to learn the reason he thought it was funny was completely different from it's intended purpose and, once more, the seith would have a good talking to about what's proper to share with a child). Instead, Mira's eyes were transfixed on the guildhall doors, as if anticipating something.

Laxus had gone out them, much earlier, to meet with someone he grumbled when the boy asked. He imagined, the boy did, that it was just a normal boring person that wanted to join their guild (they'd had a lot of them recently) and didn't pay much mind to it. He was partially right, at least, as when his father came back in, Freed having met him at some point out there, they were with another man. His hair was dark blue and he had some sort of a tribal pain design over his eye.

At the sight of him, the boy's mother rushed from behind the bar to greet the man, smiling brightly. It was enough to make the child turn and truly consider the man.

"Get over here then," Laxus finally grumbled, nodding over at his son. "You know you welcome people, when you first meet them."

He stumbled to his feet a bit, as he hurriedly swallowed the big gulp of eggs in his mouth at the moment, but did manage to get off his stool and do as his father said. Holding his hand out, he stared up into the eyes of the much taller man who only grinned down at him, if not a bit of a sneer, before taking his hand and gripping it tightly, giving a firm shake.

"Jellal," the man greeted simply. "And you are?"

"Kasper," he whispered softly. There was something about the man. Something so...intimidating. Even with his parents and even Freed standing there, he still felt this...immense pressure radiating from the man. "Dreyar."

"Then you are the young dragon." As he released his hand, Jellal nodded at him. "I am glad you are welcoming me into your guild."

"His guild, huh?" Laxus snorted before crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, Kasp, you're in luck. He's almost stronger than me. Great addition."

"Almost?" Jellal questioned and raised an eyebrow as Mira only beamed, bouncing a bit in the childish way she still had about her.

"It's so good at have you," the woman gushed, reaching out to touch his arm, as if in disbelief. "Here. There's so much to catch up on. Like-"

"Later, demon," Laxus grumbled and he turned then, as if to walk away. "Me and him have our own shit to talk about."

"And I am only here for the time being," Jellal corrected, heading after the other man. "Hopefully, once things die down a bit, I will be able to head on the road once more. Until then-"

"Until then, you keep your mouth shut. All of you." And Laxus stopped, halfway across the bar area, to look back at his son. "Do you hear me, Kasper? You don't breathe a word of this. To anyone. I'm not joking. Jellal's gonna be staying here for a bit, but if you so much as tell someone-"

"Easy, Laxus," Mira cut him off with a frown. "He's not a baby."

Freed, bowing his head towards his Master, only remarked, "I'm sure the boy is old enough to understand a secret."

And it was Jellal's turn to look at the boy, staring him down so easily that, having felt quite annoyed with his father only moments before, the red hot anger he felt melted away into anxiousness as, once more, the man had his eyes.

"I have a child," Jellal remarked simply, "just about your age, Kasper. In fact, in another life, I'm sure you'd both be very close friends. This one, even, perhaps, one day. And she has kept my secret many times over the years. I am certain I can count on you to do the same, can I not?"

He took a breath in, a deep one, but slowly the boy nodded, just barely being able to get out an affirmative answer, before, finally, his father nodded as well and disappeared, off to the back room with Jellal.

Once they'd disappeared, Freed gave Kasper a pat on the head and Mira offered a smile, but he only stared after his father and the newcomer.

Just who was Jellal?

Their new cellar-dweller, as it became in the following days, Laxus having a cot set up for him down there. The lock that was typically never used on the door suddenly had it's key reappear and Mirajane became it's only holder besides a copy that was given to Jellal.

During the day, he stayed down there, from all that Kasper could tell, but at night, when they closed up at, and most, only his mother, father, and the Thunder Legion remained, he came out to speak with all of them. He could hear them down there, Kasper could, late into the night as he sat up in the attic, in the part of it sectioned off from his parents. He got the window, at least, as his bed was pressed up against the wall it sat on, from which he stared out at the city many late nights, while his parents stayed down stairs, busy with the many functions that went into running your own business.

In those days though, he listened as they instead had drinks and reminisced, somewhat, and argued at other times, his father and Jellal did, about something or other. Typically about who was more powerful. Jellal seemed much more at ease with the topic while Laxus only seemed to get worked up.

"Your father doesn't like it," Mira sighed to him more than once over the course of his life, "when he thinks that someone might possibly be stronger than him. A complex."

But it didn't sound complex at all to Kasper. Pretty cut and dry.

The fact that Jellal now caused one of his favorite exploration places to be closed off was quickly remedied, however, as, within two weeks, a new development happened.

"Your Aunt Lisanna is coming to visit," his mother told him happily one more, but, with an extra wide grin, she added, "And she's bringing someone special along."

Ah.

He'd met many 'someone special' of Lisanna before and wasn't too up for meeting her new boyfriend. It still made him giggle and snicker, the thought of his aunt having one of those and kissing and being in love and stuff. It was gross.

Plus...well, he wasn't too close his aunt. Or his uncle. His mother went to Magnolia to visit them more often than they came to see Dragon's Roar, only passing through occasionally, so he mostly saw them on special occasions. They seemed to like him and whole lot and they sent him presents in the mail all the time, but…

He just didn't feel all too close to them. That was all.

And his mother said that was okay, when he told her that, but she always looked a bit sad at the thought.

"Don't feel bad," Laxus told him whenever he voiced this to him alone. "They're strange, Lisanna and Elfman are. Everyone from Fairy Tail is."

"Aren't you from Fairy Tail?" he'd ask as this was Laxus' typical response to any of his former cohorts. The man would only sneer though."

"That was years ago, Kasp," he'd insist to him. "I was a boy them. And you can't stay in the same plays you were, when you were a boy, and expect to ever be a man."

He heard a lot of stories about that place, Fairy Tail. Even visited it, maybe, when he was a bit younger. But in recent memory, he mostly stayed home when his mother went and well… He liked Dragon's Roar. He liked that it was just him. All the fun that he had, on his own.

Again, he could get lonely sometimes, but…

The stories his mother told of it, with all the kids she grew up with, all the battles and training and magic and just...just…

It all sounded like a bit much.

He didn't think he'd be any good at it, being in Fairy Tail. No. He was a dragon through and through.

When his aunt arrived though, it wasn't with another man. Or a guild member. Not really. No. It wasn't even someone she probably spent a lot of time around.

"Two kids of Masters," Mira giggled when he was introduced to the girl. "It makes perfect sense that we would have the two of you meet. No ulterior motive at all."

"I mean, when you put it like that," Lisanna scolded slightly, "you might given people the idea to look for some."

Mira and Lisanna hugged, there in the guildhall, the second they saw one another, laughing over this conversation of theirs while Kasper, standing there, having been expecting to meet a boyfriend of his aunts, only frowned a bit at the blue haired child before him.

Slowly, he raised one hand, as if in greet and, with a bright smile, she returned it.

"Oh, Kasper," Mira giggled as, finally, she separated from her sister. "This is very special friend. Her mother's the Master of Fairy Tail, your grandfather's old guild. You guys will be fast friends, I'm sure."

He wasn't nearly as certain, a bit nervous as he was around new people, but the girl seemed completely at ease in a guild she'd never been before. She only moved to take the backpack slung over her back and hold it out to him.

"Wanna play?" she asked simply, unzipping it and revealing, inside, an assortment of toys. "Kasper?"

He wasn't sure what to say, but when he felt his mother's eyes, he slowly did nod his head before running off, up the stairs, the girl easily following.

Regardless of his apprehensions, it hardly took another ten minutes before, with certainty, any idea of loneliness or lack of childhood friends was washed away from the boy. They combined her action figures with his toy cars and had a great time, up in the attic, playing warriors with them. They were having so much fun that he sorta...forgot...to even...ask her name…

He was a bit embarrassed when, over a lunch his mother finally brought up to them, he was forced to do so. They sat on the floor beside one another, slightly away from their toys, a plate of food balanced in each of their laps.

"I'm Cam," she remarked simply. "Camilla Scarlet. My mother's Master Erza Scarlet of the Fairy Tail guild."

Swallowing, he was quick to nod and attempt to add," My dad is-"

But Cam wouldn't let him.

"Your dad is Laxus Dreyar, the Master of Dragon's Roar. His the old Master's grandson. And your mom is Mirajane Strauss."

"Dreyar," he corrected, but she hardly listened.

"My mom's friends with them," she finished.

"That's why you came?" he asked then, for the first time questioning this. "Because our parents are friends?"

Her face changed then, Cam's did, and she only gulped down a big bite of her sandwich before turning to crawl back over to where their toys sat. She clearly didn't want to answer and, well, when he really thought about it, he didn't care much. At all.

He was kind of just glad to finally have another friend to spend time with, honestly. And one his own age at that.

They played the whole day. When their toys upstairs got boring, they went downstairs where Mirajane only shooed them off outside, making Kasper promise to keep with in his usual boundary markers. It was pretty much the most fun he had in a long time. They played tag and hide and seek and, eventually, just kind of fell into the dirt outside and panted, tired from their play.

When night fell and Lisanna left for the only inn in town, Kasper expected his new friend to follow suit, but she didn't. He didn't ask as they ate dinner together if she was staying forever, but he was kind of fine if she was. So far. If it meant he kept getting to have a new playmate.

It was only around closing, when his mother didn't force him off to bed that he began to think something was going on. And, once everyone was gone and the doors were all locked up, he found out what.

"Father!"

When Jellal came out of the basement up to join them, he found out exactly why she was there. Or at least he figured he did. Cam jumped off the stool she'd been sitting beside him at, where they both mostly had been resting with their heads down, past each of their bedtimes, no doubt. He frowned some, watching as she ran right over to the man and, for once, Jellal didn't look so...smug. That was the word, maybe, for the man. He actually looked happy as he dropped to one knee and hugged Cam warmly.

Laxus and Mira were the only others left in the bar at that point, and the slayer snorted some, from where he sat at a table by himself, just from the sight, but Mira seemed to get teary eyed.

"I haven't seen you in so long," Cam said against the man's chest and she even sounded weepy, perhaps, just a bit. "But Mom said if I came with Miss Lisanna that-"

"It is all right." And he patted the back of her head gently before standing, lifting the girl easily off the ground. "Things have been...tense, recently, for me. I had to go into a bit of hiding. But luckily, Master Laxus has found a place for me, here, for now. And…" He let out a short breath as he dropped her gently back on her feet, looking her deeply into the eyes. Kasper watched, only lifting his head slightly, and smiled some.

Maybe Jellal wasn't all bad.

"It's time for bed."

His own father came to lift him up, though it was only to pull him to his feet. Kasper wanted to protest, but was half asleep already, so the real challenge, honestly, was managing to climb the stairs all on his own.

"So Jellal is Cam's dad?" he yawned as his mother came up to be sure he changed out of his clothes.

"Mmmhmm," she sighed as she smoothed back his fair hair some, once he, finally, fell into bed.

"But...but her mom's Master Erza, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then why doesn't he go to Fairy Tail? Instead of here?" His eyes felt heavy and, as they finally closed, he whispered, "Why does he have to stay in the basement?"

"Those are things better left for another day," his mother told him simply as she pulled the covers up tight around him. "Not everyone is as lucky as you, to have two parents who will always be there for you. Just sleep, Kasp. It'll all make sense eventually. I promise."

He believed her.

Cam slept down in the cellar with her father that night, but, in the light of day, he stayed down there to rest and she came back up. There were so many things Kasper wanted to ask her, to know, but he'd been told not to ask and, well, if he expected for his mother to keep hers to him, he had to keep his to her.

"Do you think you'll stay here now?" he did finally ask her as they played outside that day. "Cam?"

She gave him a frown before remarking, "I'm from Fairy Tail. I have to go home. I'm just visiting."

"Well," he sighed a bit with a shrug. "Maybe you can come visit now? Since..."

He meant since they were clearly such great friends and everything, but she only frowned some more, misconstruing him to be speaking on her father. Still, she only shrugged some.

"Probably," she agreed.

"Dragon's Roar's pretty great," he kept up. "There's a lot to do." He could tell she had her doubts so he was quick to add, "Other than play with toys and stuff. There's a lot to do."

"Isn't there anyone to play with?"

"Yeah!" He was quick to nod. "There's Freed and Ever and Bickslow."

"Where are they?"

"Well, they're on missions, right now, but-"

"They're adults?"

"Well...yeah, I guess, but-"

"Aren't there any kids?"

"No." He felt defeated in this. "Just me."

"That's sad. There's tons of people to play with at Fairy Tail." Still, she only reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "I guess you're pretty lucky I'm here."

He didn't like this implication and wanted to explain to her that, actually, he was pretty okay on his own and Fairy Tail wasn't anywhere close as great as Dragon's Roar and that's how come his mother and father and Freed and Ever and Bickslow had left it because it was lame and how could it be so good if her own father was aligned here instead of there?

She was the one that was lucky. That his guild, his father's guild, let her stupid father stay in the basement, his basement, for whatever dumb reason, and, and, and-

"I guess so," he sighed, kicking at the ground and she beamed for some reason. When he raised his head, it was hard for him not to do the same.

When Lisanna took Cam back home a few days later, Kasper was more than sad to see her go. He was actual rather mournful. It would be hard to go back to being the only one who wanted to race and play tag.

At least until Bickslow got back.

"I feel the same way," his mother told him that afternoon as he sat up at the bar, looking down. Patting him on the head, she stood on the other side of the bar with her typical put on smile. "When my sister and brother have to go back home. It's not a nice feeling, is it?"

"No," he sighed. "It's not."

"But that just means," she went on, "that eventually, you get to see them again. And that's an even better feeling. It even makes the sad one, the one you have right now, and the anxious one, the one you get when you wonder when they'll come back, feel kind of good."

"Maybe everyone from Fairy Tail isn't strange," he agreed to which his father, who was beside him, only choked on his ale and Mira looked at him with accusing eyes.

It was only once she was off to actual serve some bar patrons that Laxus frowned down at his son and insisted, "Yes, Kasp, they actually are. But… It's what makes them so great."

With a shrug and a sigh, he only rested his head back against his folded arms atop the bar.

If his father thought so.

I've always been asked to do a Jerza kid (especially in the Remember Me series), but I've never wanted to because the situation never felt right. I don't keep up with Fairy Tail cannon these days (I tapped out sometime after they were rebuilding the guild following Tartus), so I'm not even sure what Jellal does currently or how involved he is in current plot lines (is he even still a fugitive? I can't recall), but it all fit for this. I'll eventually do a one-shot that focuses on Erza and Jellal's half of things from this point in the series, but for now, I'm just glad to have the Dragon's Roar kids (so far) named and slightly characterized.

I know a lot of people aren't into Dragon's Roar yet, but give me a chance, guy. It'll be as fun as Remember Me. Hopefully.

Full Series on Arc