#but i truly recognise that this is a blessing and so many people are stuck because it's a hard thing to do

[prettypangolins]

The dream of living with or very near a friend where I can use my skills to do a swap that covers for my deficits.

i.e. I do a phonecall on your behalf, I am paid with a nice little meal

I can do phonecalls!* But I can't do the complicated thing of making food happen with any degree of consistency or reliability. Plus food always tastes nicer when someone's made it for you.

*I can do 'business' calls to make appointments, discover opening times, place and chase up orders, and sometimes even complain, but please don't ever make me have a social conversation on a telephone I will shrivel up and die. If there is an automated voice part I will also shrivel up and die but in a far more vigorous and spectacular manner

[dreamofjoys]

For an eternity

scenario: yandere malleus finding out that his lover, a dragon-succubus hybrid, the mother of his triplet sons, is experiencing heat. malleus offers to help darling, and she agrees to it.

characters involved: yandere malleus draconia x fem reader

genre: yandere, smut

tw: forced marriage, slight manipulation, stockholm syndrome, lactation kink, knee riding (?), riding, belly bugle kink, marking, malleus paints your body with his cum, cum tasting w breast milk (?), noncon

requested by anon!

malleus draconia is a patient man.

a man with beauty, power, and grace. he has everything that only some people can dream of.

malleus draconia is obsessed over you. he wants you within an arm reach, bind you to him with something that will never break the relationship between the both of you. what was this thing that the everyone speaks highly about? ah yes, marriage.

marriage formally recognise the union of two people as partners in a personal relationship. so really, what better ways are there to tie you down with him besides marriage? to make it even better, you are a dragon like him too! dragons only devote themself to one partner during their lifetime, surely, the both of you would never be able to leave each other. he doesn't really mind that you are half succubus, in fact, he would be over the moon if you seduce him, which you never did.

besides, the both of you have long lifespans. what a perfect couple the both of you make! to accompany each other for eternity, while living a lavish life.

so imagine your surprise when you were with malleus on one of your nightly walk, and he suddenly proposes to you.

"y/n, marry me." it wasn't really a question. you stood tensed and stared at him, hoping that it was a joke. but he never jokes about stuff like this.

"and what if i don't?" you asked him, wanting to know what he will do if he doesn't get what he wants.

malleus chuckles deeply, his lips curled up, fangs glistening under the moonlight, slit pupils narrowing at you. "i wasn't asking you. i am telling you that you are going to marry me. you wouldn't want this school to crumble into specks of dust, right?"

you don't have a choice here. deny me and people will suffer

that night, malleus brought you back to valley of thorns, and declared the marriage in front of his subjects. many dare not question the prince's intention. instead, they congratulated the both of you on the marriage.

the queen looked at you up and down, and asked malleus if this is truly what he wants. with a yes from malleus, the queen gave her blessings to the both of you. that was when you knew that nobody would help you get out of this marriage.

"i don't love you at all!" you screamed at malleus, grabbing the nearest thing to you -a vase- and throwing it at him. it was the first night of the wedding, and you felt sick for marrying someone that you don't love at all. you wanted to be out of this place, but malleus wouldn't allow you to do that.

"i know that dear, don't worry, we have an eternity to solve that problem. but now, we should think about the future of valley of thorns. we can start first by having a child."

he took you by force on the first night of your wedding. what was thought to be only one child turned into three when the royal doctor announced that you were pregnant with triplets. malleus was happy. he lift you up high on the balcony of the castle, announcing to all his citizens that his lovely wife is pregnant with triplets. everyone was happy, except for you.

malleus spoils you. he gives you everything that he have. you want to wear his crown? go ahead, is yours. point at the star and he will pluck one from the sky just for you. but he never, never, lets you leave your room.

the only time that other people get to see you, is only when malleus brings you out, even if is to go to the private garden that malleus gave you. other then that, you are basically stuck in your room the whole time.

malleus would personally feed you, rub your swollen stomach affectionately, telling your unborn babies how happy he is. he acts like the ideal husband that everyone wants. massaging your feet and back if it hurts too much, carrying you around so that you won't have to struggle walking. maybe is just the succubus side of you that craves for love and attention.

you were so sure that you would hate him forever, but apparently not. not when you first gave birth to the triplets, witnessing them cracking out of their shells. instead of crawling over to their father, the three of them crawled over to you, pressing their small bodies onto yours to seek warm. you bring them up into your embrace, and noticed how all of them look awfully like malleus, except for their eyes. malleus hugs you, with the triplets just between the both of you. he gives you a kiss on a forehead, whispering how much he loves you.

you could feel something stirring inside you, as if a feeling was blossoming.

-

"ugh....." you tossed over your bed, feeling your entire body on fire. you wish it was just a fever, but you know better that you are going through heat. your core region hurts so badly, you wanted to pound onto something, and stuff your insides full.

"need help?" a voice broke you out from your train of thoughts.

you turned over and noticed your husband leaning against the door, arms folded while staring at you. he was dressed in a loose robe, with the front being opened wide, displaying his abs to you. you hesitated for awhile. malleus is good right? yeah he kidnapped you, forced you to marry him and made you bear his children without your consent he has been nothing but a kind and patient husband. wiping your tears whenever you tell him how lonely it is to be locked up in the room, cleaning up the mess that you purposely made, still giving you morning and night kisses, even though you resist against him.

no matter how much of a brat you act like, he still tolerates and treats you like the most precious thing that he have. perhaps it was these little actions that made you fall for him.

"y-yes please. please help me, malleus." malleus was smiling so wide now. for the first time, you begged him. and for the first time, you finally willingly gave yourself to him.

"of course, anything for you, my love. now just lay back down comfortably and rest your head on the pillows."

you did as he said, laying your head on the fluffy pillows as malleus climbed on top of you, placing one of his knees in between your legs. "we don't need this." he teared your nightgown in an instant, revealing your bare body to him. of course you weren't wearing any underwear. why would you do that when your body literally feels like fire?

he licks his lips at the sight in front of him. your nipples hardened at the contact of cold air. some of your slick is already leaking out of your pussy....

"have you breastfeed the triplets?" malleus fondles at your nipples, watching as some of the milk leaks out from it. "a-ah ye-yes, i did."

"surely, my sons wouldn't mind if their father gets a taste of their own mother." with that, the king dived down to suck on your nipple, devouring your breast milk. one of his hands squeezes on the unoccupied breast, causing milk to stain his hands, and then the bed sheets.

you moaned out in pleasure, hands immediately travelling to malleus's back and pulling him closer to you. he pushed his knee to your neglected cunt, and you started grinding against it.

"fuck, be it your cum or your milk, you will always taste sweet to me." he looks up at you with half lidded eyes, milk dripping down to his chin, and god, he looks so hot. you pulled him up and kissed him on the lips ferociously, tasting your own milk as you opened your mouth, allowing him to shove his tongue inside you.

his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, not wanting to miss out any part of you. you tried to fight dominance with your own tongue, but malleus's tongue swirls around yours, desperate to feel you.

feeling annoyed that he still has his robes on, you ripped off his robes, leaving him bare naked. malleus doesn't care, he merely lifts you up and change the position. now, he is sitting against the headboard, legs spreading a little as he faces you to him. without any warning, he slams you down onto his cock, and you screamed at the sudden intrusion of something big inside you.

"go ahead and ride me. i know your pussy needs my cock." he didn't even have to tell you that. as soon as he slams you down onto his cock, you started bouncing on his cock at a rapid pace.

"fu-FUCK, this is so-so good! mal, gi-give me more!" honestly, how could malleus ever deny his lovely wife? he leans forward and started making love bites all over your upper body. you placed one of your hands on your belly, feeling malleus's thick and veiny cock sliding in and out of your body. god, you were so turned on. all you want right now is to be fuck over and over again.

malleus grunts, feeling your tight walls sucking him deep into him. such a greedy pussy. but is okay, he too, is greedy for all of you. "cum together with me." malleus said as he rubs your clit aggressively, watching as white loads leak out of your pussy. ah, that's his seed.

"no-not enough." you whined, wanting to feel more of him. the succubus side of you was going crazy over lust. plus, you are also half dragon.

it is never easy to satisfy a dragon. but fortunately, both of you are one.

so he turns you over again, but this time, he pushes you face from the behind and aggressively fucks you from behind.

"i-i know, love. you know what im going to do to you? im going to paint your whole body with my cum. perhaps then, you would be satisfied." malleus never lies, and he always do what he says.

that night, the both of you cummed so much, the whole room smells of you and malleus. malleus makes sure to stuffed you nice and full with his cum inside you, before cumming on your body. he gingerly spreads his cum all over you, watching as your body shines with his cum. he squeeze your breast again, watching as some milk leaks out, and proceeds to mix it with his cum before popping his finger in, getting a taste of you and him together.

"as expected, the both of us taste sweet together."

you mumbled in incoherence, feeling tired and worn out. it was a good and nice sex that lasted from late night till the morning. unfortunately, your stamina doesn't match up with malleus, so you dozed off first, leaving the king staring at your godly body.

he pulls you into his embrace, and decides to sleep with you. after all, your heat is not over, and he can still assist you after you wake up.

malleus draconia is a patient man, but only to you. you can scream at him, escape from him and do whatever you want. but he will make you love him, no matter what.

you don't need to know how many people he killed simply for just looking at you. you don't need to know that he killed some of his own kind just because they disapprove of you being the queen. last but no least, you don't need to know that he is just patiently waiting for you to run into his arms, so that he can trapped you there forever.

he doesn't need to rush things. after all, you guys are immortal. he has an eternity to make you love him, and an eternity to tie you beside him.

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

Pick a card reading: What you should like more about yourself!

This one is for the ones on that self love journey, the ones that need a pick me up or have a hard time with self confidence/esteem especially.

So I'm sure it's quite clear. The cards that you pick will reflect why you deserve to be more loving to yourself, what wonderful qualities you have, and maybe help convince you to lessen your negative inner language.

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Please pick one of the groups ( 1, 2, 3 or 4.)

You might be drawn to an item, the card itself, or a number. Please calm your mind and meditate for a minute.

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Side note: If you have a hard time choosing, or nothing seems strong to you, perhaps you could come back later on and try. Do not pressure yourself, darling.

Number one is the badge saying "yup"

Number 2 is the wing

Number 3 is the little bird

Number 4 is the chain saying "BE MINE"

GROUP 1 : (Yup badge)

Morning affirmations, Joy, Strength

6 of wands, 4 of pentacles, Mother of swords

What an interesting blend of character you are!

With the owl, this is a strong suggestion that you are able to see through deep into situations and understand "in between the lines". A great communicator, the queen of swords can be straight to the point, brilliant and not to be messed with. Your ability to say it like it is might be perceived as a little harsh to very sensitive or younger people, however it is a strong and much needed trait in the world. We need people with the organisational skills and know how of the mother of swords! The queen always reminds me of someone who is a good teacher, and a fair person.

With the 6 of wands and the 4 of pentacles, the combination hits in a way of potentially dulling that light. The traits I list may be some that you are aware of in a way, but perhaps have a lesser opinion of. The interesting mix of you is in the way of you being so strong, able to endure and be positive, yet a wonderful balance of being able to have boundaries. Again, I'm seeing the strong ability to recognise when someone is being a "rat" as the animal is right next to the owl. I can't help but get the idea that it is direct experience. I would be surprised if you haven't recently come to a revelation about a person in your social circle, or cut someone out/created more boundaries.

Strength mentions having resilience, coming through things more compassionate, stronger and brighter. Brighter being strong in focus to me, as it is next to joy. Your ability to have fun *despite* issues or obstacles is an enviable trait! I really feel that while you might have your difficulties, you never let them suck you in for too long mentally. You seem to try and stay positive through things, and not everyone can do that. You are also much more smart/knowledgeable than you give yourself credit for. Don't let anyone put you down, because you're being shown that if you go for what you've been studying/working at, with strong persistence you can succeed. I feel like the branches signify people who have acted as obstacles, or your troubles in life. This is confirmation you can rise above them, and if you're stuck right now, please accept my confirmation that things can and will change. Life can't help but flow, no matter how people may try and resist. So if anyone is putting you down, or getting in your way - know that their resistance to your future and well being is futile.

You keep having those boundaries. Keep on keeping on. You're sharp, you're witty, and of all things you have kept your kind heart. One day the joy you try to find in the little things will come to you effortlessly and in x100.

I got the need to call you cherub. Chin up, Cherub.

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GROUP 2 (the wing)

Wait, generosity, magic, peacefulness

The hermit, Ace of swords, Son of swords.

eYou're an extremely thoughtful person, aren't you? I get social activist vibes, the kind of person who thinks about bigger issues than just in their personal world, and could debate very well. The ability to get to the kernel of truth within an argument or bigger pattern in the world seems equal to none. If you have a hard time accepting that your opinions mean something, or you would be able to be persuasive, this is confirmation for you that actually - yes - you do have something meaningful to share with others.

In this pile I'm seeing a more peaceful, patient character. Someone who simply tries to be good, and do good for others. You create magic for other people. My heart swells at this, as I'm seeing reciprocity of kindnesses between you and others over time.

While The son of swords on it's own could potentially be quick to intervene or make a judgement, with the hermit and wait, I'm feeling more that you take the time to think things over. For example, if asked to make a decision, you would want to take your time and really think. If you were asked what your thoughts were on a political stand point, you would think in depth and make no judgements from the surface. This is so helpful, as there's less chance of misunderstanding/unkindness as well as the ability to make better long term decisions for yourself.

Very introspective, and the ace of swords suggests you have great clarity of mind. I can imagine you would be a wonderful person for explaining complicated matters to a wide group of people.

Generosity is what it says on the tin: You are a generous human. That is so, so important. There are many people out there who might feel like no one thinks about them or cares, and you come in and surprise them with something, or offer them help without them asking. It makes people feel valued, and like they are important or have a place in someone's life.

Peacefulness suggests not inviting drama, and I get 2 things. You might be described as grounded, or "chill". As well as this likely suggests your lack of interest in being within a dramatic situation. You are likely very good at looking at others drama, and seeing where it truly stems from, as well as having a good idea of advice for them. If you have friends right now, it's likely they feel peaceful being around you and that they can truly calm down or get your advice on their *own* drama.

You are so important to the people around you, and if there are people that can't appreciate you, I promise you they have *no* idea how lucky they are. You offer so much as a friend, confidant, and as a person who cares for the worlds well being. I appreciate you.

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GROUP 3: ( Little bird

Blessed change, gratitude, engagement, follow your heart, father of pentacles, the empress, the star

You're cool.

Right off the bat, I see your ability to see the silver lining, to take changes as they come (and I don't mean you happily drudge through hard changes, I mean more like you accept them more easily than others). Do you know, it really helps a persons resilience in life if they can have gratitude for things in general, as well as seeing the positive affects of life changes. You have an ability to notice the opportunities in said silver lining. An example I've read in the past involved a man who lost his job, but an opportunity came up for something he was passionate regarding his hobby. He would not have been free to do it unless he was let go of.

You're my free flowing group. Very adaptable. You're able to take time out to really think about what you truly desire in life. When themes like this come up, I really get the idea of authenticity. To put a focus on following your heart, being grateful for what you've taken part in and even quirky circumstances is a massive strength. Do you have any idea how scary that is to people? To wake up and think "My heart wants this, I'm going to actually aim for it because I need to be myself." That's terrifying to many!

Note: If you are finding it hard to be upfront or true to yourself due to fear, this is confirmation that you will be able to in the future. Take your time, as this will come naturally to you.

I know you might be shrugging thinking, but sometimes I get really negative or scared too. I won't say that's not a thing humans experience. What I am saying however, is that you have that strength of character to say actually, nothing would be worse than to answer to my fear. Fear of self expression, fear of being judged. Fear of not having your project liked. These kinds of things.

I feel like you're a fun person who is very interesting to people/has had at least one very interesting or unusual experience. I want you to know the cards are showing that people really enjoy speaking with you, and hearing your stories. So no negative self talk of being boring, or disliked.

Your flexibility, and your ability to be sociable, yet able to pull back appropriately is wonderful. The world needs those who can be more easy going as this can help people de-stress and stop thinking about their worries.

I'm seeing wonderful creativity, and again, being able to be social and talk to many people very well. You're a shining star, and you're supposed to be!

I wonder if sometimes you feel like you need to be "more" productive, but let me tell you... Networking with people is half the job.

I'm also wondering (as a rainbow stands out) if some here are part of the LGBTQIA+ community. It would make sense with the authenticity. If you have a social media presence, or a creative project you want to get out, or expressing your personal experiences to the world - this is confirmation to keep standing tall, stand proud because yes, you do have a lot to offer! King of pentacles next to the empress also suggests you might be on to something that can bring in some income for you. Again, even sharing your experiences is very valued and may well be it. The world itself wants to see you, or whatever you desire to create.

If you have a hard time focusing or being practical, darling, you get along well with others for a reason. Ask for help, whether it's family, friends online, a teacher, anyone. There's help to steer you further in the right direction. You're a beautiful person and you matter to people. You are loved, so please love yourself.

There's something here that seems upset, and I just have the biggest urge to hug you! So if you will, accept my many energetic and virtual hugs!

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GROUP 4: "Be mine"

Worthiness, Ups and downs, courage

Ace of pentacles, Ace of wands, daughter of wands (reversed)

Daughter of wands reversed suggests to me, that you have the traits such as this, but perhaps not the confidence in yourself right now about those things. The book describes her as passionate, visionary, cares more for career and starts a family later; stubborn, strong (i take this as physically actually) and may be going through a spiritual breakthrough or a big change. With this I get the thought that you probably don't recognise just *how* passionate you truly are. You might be finding it hard to go a certain way in your career and studies. There might even be some worries that you might not stick at it. But what you are not realising is your actions have magic in them.

If you are interested in LOA: Your actions manifest not only in a practical sense, but *that's* what truly gets the energy moving. You need physical expression of some kind.

I'm getting such practical, but passionate energy. The ace of wands with courage? That's amazing. Fire sign or not, you have classic fire energy. Even when you lack confidence, you have a strange inner ability to be brave even at your worst times.

Oh, if only you had the confidence to aim!

Your energy and action are seriously magnificent. You have a *lot* of inner energy, spiritual energy, physical vitality. If you have health issues this might sound strange to you - but I get the idea your body was built with a lot of vitality available. You might have really struggled in life with ups and downs here, but I'm seeing you crash right through all the barriers and try to do life the best way you know how. No matter your struggles, you are a warrior here.

The 2 aces here (that is so interesting to have seen) show that you are probably quite good at beginning new things, and when you're motivated, you're MOTIVATED. I'm getting the idea that when you *do* take action on a goal, you go at it with everything and it can surprise people.

I'm seeing creative ability. It's an ability that I have seen myself. An example would be.... A mistake is made in a piece of art. It didn't go the way you wanted originally. But, wait a minute... that's starting to look like something, so I'm going to change it all up and create something completely different than intended.

It's seeing potential in a small detail. I'm seeing original thinking.

I just see a bulls eye, and such great energy and ability, but the lack of confidence. And so, I feel like you're at a time where you're stopping yourself, or won't aim for something out of fear of failing. I also got the sentence biting your tongue. I'm sorry if you're in a situation where you can't speak up for yourself, as this is not aligned with your character.

Overall I believe your a creative but practical person, and have the ability to really pull through and create wonderful things. You can be *very* brave as well as motivated and so I feel you inspire others, as well as surprise them.

I really do feel that with worthiness, it is hinting to confidence/self esteem issues as it says "know that you deserve to receive good in all ways".

You deserve to be successful. You deserve to take the career path that you have been thinking about. You deserve people to treat you well. You deserve to have that hobby, whether you're "good" or not.

Deep down somewhere you know you are bigger than this. I am wishing for a healthy full confidence boost for you and some new energy to help push you.

Please have the courage to aim, as bob ross says:

"we don't make mistakes, we make happy little accidents"

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And that's the last of them! I hope you enjoyed, and I hoped this help you feel a little better about yourself. We need to cheer ourselves up sometimes and let ourselves think good things. We attract more honey with sugar after all!

Until the next pick a card!

Thank you!

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[maliciouslycreative]

How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall

I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.

There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.

Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived. 

To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun. 

Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for. 

C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later. 

Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao. 

I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was. 

Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics. 

She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread. 

The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing. 

Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned. 

C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves. 

C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too. 

I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at. 

[kettlequills]

all that is and has been

"The past is the beginning of the beginning and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn." - H.G Wells.  Every winter, Aranea comes down the mountain. Prompt: dawn, for TESFEST.  On A03 here.

They get younger every year, Aranea thought, watching the guide from Windhelm picking his way with great concentration up the snowy slope to Azura’s shrine. At the foot of the stone steps, he pumped his arm wildly, and shouted something that was immediately snatched by the wind. Even from this distance, Aranea could picture perfectly the expression of consternation on his face, hidden mostly though it was in the hood of his thick fur parka.

Aranea exhaled a sigh and put some water on to boil. She dusted off and set out her spare stool for visitors. By the time he had puffed and struggled his way up the steps, the water was ready.

“Priestess!” he called, voice bright and eager with the strength of youth.

Wasted on the young, Aranea thought, sprinkling leaves into the cups. She eyed him critically. Pinched red cheeks on either side of a proud nose, eyes hidden smartly under Nordic snow-goggles to protect them from the snowfall. The boy was young, but not too young, she judged, and added a small dram of Cyrodilic brandy. The snow wasn’t too bad for this time of year, but it was the thick, fluffy flakes of endless autumn snow, and cursed cold.

Aranea greeted him, wincing a little at the creakiness of her voice. It had been a slow spring and summer. Only a few visitors, in all that stretch of time, and none the one Azura had told her to look for. She had not spoken for months.

“My name is Tinoryn,” he told her, a few sips into his tea. “I work for Ruvene, at Avalathil Tailoring.” He wiggled the hood of his parka. “I made this,” he added, proudly. “But I’m going to be a mage, anyway. Once I’ve saved up enough for the College.”

Ah, thought Aranea. This one would be pestering her to teach him magic all the way down the mountain. She would not deny him. Being able to afford the College’s fees was a distant dream, no matter if his sewing skills were clearly quite good. Fur was a Nord’s business, and there was not much of a market for traditional Dunmeri silkweaving in Skyrim. But he would serve his community well.

Perhaps Aranea would speak to Ambarys and Ruvene, if this aspiring mageling showed promise. It would not be the College, but Aranea had time enough for teaching, if he could be spared. It had been a while since one of their own had taken to the magic arts, and Aranea could not be there to offer Azura’s blessings and healings all year.

And the road grew ever more treacherous.

She pondered this as she worked, readying the shrine for her long absence. It would, after all, be a death-sentence to attempt to stay on the exposed mountain-top throughout one of Skyrim’s brutal winters. Instead, Aranea did as she had always done, and when the autumn snows began to crown Azura’s head thickly, she awaited a guide from Windhelm who would escort her to stay in the city during the cold months, in exchange for blessings and healings. Once, that route had included Winterhold, but Aranea had watched, brutal in her isolation, the vast majority of Azura’s faithful there along with the rest of the town crumble into the Sea of Ghosts during the Collapse. The outskirts of the town remained, and of the people Aranea had served, only those few that had listened to Aranea’s vision-driven warning and moved to Windhelm.

Tinoryn chattered happily without her input, telling her about the Windhelm’s Dunmer anything he thought relevant that she had missed during the spring and summer. Aranea was not surprised to learn of increasing attacks from the city’s Nord population, nor of the fires that had raged across the docks from mismanagement and unvented angers. It would be a lean winter. It was always a lean winter.

“Shall we go?” Aranea said, halfway into one of Tinoryn’s stories about one Henon Virith valiantly fighting off an improbable number of guards, evidently the troublemaker of the Grey Quarter and Tinoryn’s personal hero. To his credit, Tinoryn barely blinked before shouldering Aranea’s entire pack (she watched, bemused, and wondered what they were feeding tailors these days) over the shoulder that did not carry his own, and bounced off.

He started then on the story of the passage up, and Aranea allowed his voice to fall into a soothing murmur as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She had walked this path many times, but Skyrim was a country of bitter winds, rock and snow, and held little love for those who would stumble on her paths.

They took the carriage from Winterhold, bartering passage crammed in next to a friendly courier and a dour carriage driver, squeezing their legs over locked crates that Aranea suspected contained soulgems from the subtle hum she could feel, grinding its way through her teeth into her skull. Tinoryn distracted himself thoroughly with the courier, to Aranea’s relief; she had already spoken so much in the gaps Tinoryn left in conversation that her throat ached.

It was a weary, travelsore and head-pounding priestess of Azura that made her way, Tinoryn quieting in sight of the guards, over Windhelm’s ice-choked bridge. The city of stone was redolent and packed, but the guards held sharp new weapons, and wore armour so polished  that they shone like gems in the snow. There were more horses in the stables, meaty, Rift-bred creatures, and Aranea spotted scaffolding supporting the construction of a new parapet with a flicker of unease. The people they passed were ragged as ever, but there was a strange, martial air flickering in Windhelm’s braziers, carried on lips down from the Palace of Kings.

Unbidden, Aranea thought of a troubling vision she had received, some years ago. A young Greybeard-come-soldier, sweating and afraid with his wrists bound in Altmeri-gold, a voice, syrup-soft, speaking of holy wars and dying traditions. It was not one she liked to think of. Skyrim did not need war, and the young jarl had never cared greatly for his elven population. The tightening of purse strings would choke the Grey Quarter first.

Sometimes, Aranea wondered why Azura sent her the visions of great and terrible things she could no more prevent than catch a single snowflake in a blizzard. She doubted it was intended to be a torment. The Twilight Lady’s mystery was wondrous, but at times, Aranea thought that the grief of mortals was as foreign to her as her thinking was to them.

Still, there was plenty enough grief in the present without needing to borrow trouble from tomorrow.

The streets that led down into the heart of the Grey Quarter were damp with melted snow. Barely had they taken a few steps when a little girl raced up to them, crying out Aranea’s title. Despite her long resolution to the service of Azura, Aranea felt a tug in her heart at the round red eyes that did not quite yet fit in the girl’s skull, long ears too heavy as of yet to lift all the way up, though the little girl was very clearly excited. Her ears were covered with little knitted caps laced to the one jammed firmly on her head, warding off the cold.

“Hi Priestess!” She beamed. “It’s Nepha! You were at my birthday last year! Twelfth of Sun’s Dusk! Will you come again this year?”

Bless the child for her prompting, for Aranea had not recognised her at all and certainly could not have named the date she was born. Though, if it was Sun’s Dusk, she had likely assisted in the delivery. Little Ulyn Andules’ babe, perhaps? She recalled vaguely Tinoryn mentioning he’d found a new wife to mother his little girl, of all the half-sparked reasons to remarry. But, by the Reclamations, Aranea remembered delivering him. Had it been so long?

I love them all, but the years do blur together.

“Azura’s Star, child, you have grown so tall! And I shall certainly hope I get your invitation.” Wincing at the ache in her knees, she bent to squeeze Nepha’s cheeks, making the little girl giggle and twist away.

“We should get you down to the cornerclub, Priestess,” Tinoryn said, looking up at the sky. Shadows were beginning to gather across the long wavering lines of orange and pinks washing the snowy rooftops. “And you, inside, Nepha!”

Nepha stuck her tongue out at Tinoryn. She proffered her arm to Aranea. “Let me help you go! The streets are really slippy here.”

Aranea weighed up the benefits of asserting her independence and ability to walk unaided over the benefit of encouraging the child in her attempt to offer sincere and honest help. Truly, Aranea thought, if she had not lived atop a mountain for the past few months, she might have found the slick streets hard enough to navigate to be grateful for the help. The gutters cut down the sides of the streets were overrunning.

Aranea took Nepha’s arm, and they set off again.

The temperature increased sharply the moment they left the Nord-dominated parts of the city, heading into the close, smoky corridors of the Quarter. Tinoryn relaxed, loosening his fur parka and beginning to smile in earnest now he was home. People hailed them as they passed, but thankfully between Nepha and Tinoryn Aranea did not have to speak at all, only smile at their eagerness to greet her.

Just as well, for the air was unexpectedly sticky and humid from the great braziers that lined every other step of the street, lit by the whispers of fire-magic every Dunmer carried within them and absolutely essential to surviving in a cold land like Skyrim. Aranea added a gift of fire-runes to those she passed, a curious Tinoryn watching, driving the heat from baking to sweltering. The heat was welcome after months at the cold shrine, but she could feel sweat beading at the nape of her neck under her robe.

“The greatest principle of destruction magic,” Aranea told him softly as she dipped her fingers into another clay brazier’s embers, “is that it is no more destructive than a hand. The limit is your will, and the scope of the energy you are willing to give to see that will done.”

She was pleased, though, to see the braziers well-tended even without her help. It was important for Dunmeri children to be raised around fire, important for them still as adults. A cold Dunmer was a dead one. Their ancestors walked their hands through ash to kiss their fingertips in flame. It was their birthright just as much as it was a need. In Morrowind, there had not been braziers of open flame waiting for curious hands to reach and play; there had been little need, the land was warm enough. But the Dunmer of Windhelm had had to grow resourceful, and reliant upon the fire they carried within themselves just as much as the heat of the sun and sear of coals.

Aranea’s pride for her people warmed her spirit just as much as trading the freezing wind of the exposed shrine to Azura for the tight, smelly Grey Quarter warmed her bones.

The New Gnisis Cornerclub was unchanged, and the gladdest sight of all. Aranea quickened her steps, eager to see her old friends again and take the weight off her aching feet. The door creaked as it always had, and the light from beyond that threw upon the gleaming stone was orange and tinted with laughter and clinking bottles.

Aranea sent Nepha off as they went in, cautioning her to go straight to her father. Tinoryn behind her, Aranea turned, and almost immediately walked directly into the arms of Ambarys Rendar. He had come out from round the bar and as he enfolded her into a hug, he called greetings to them both.

He was solid, and Aranea could smell the spicy alcoholic scent of his wares in his smock, the rasp of his stubble across her cheek. She met his eyes, and they crinkled as he smiled at her, deep and unreserved. And if the pleasure she felt bubbling from some secret place was all the sharper for the months since she had seen him last, that was no one’s business but her own.

“How was your journey?” he asked. “No trouble from those braggarts at the gates?”

“Ambarys,” Aranea chided softly, and he only smiled, but this time it did not quite reach his eyes.

“It was good, sera,” said Tinoryn obliviously, “We took a cart from Winterhold, the driver was nice enough to wait! The snow was bad though.”

“Not too bad,” Aranea contradicted. “Still, I’m glad to be in the warm and dry.” She let her eyes slide to the stairs, and Ambarys chuckled, poor humour forgotten.

“Come, let’s get you settled, priestess,” he said. “I’ll take that, boy, go along now and get yourself a drink from Malthyr.”

Tinoryn flustered a bit at this abrupt dismissal, but at Aranea’s nod he surrendered her pack to Ambarys and went.

“He’s a good boy,” Aranea told Ambarys as they went up the stairs, “wants to be a mage.”

Ambarys snorted, not unkindly. “A good heart, but better off keeping his eyes on the road.”

“I was thinking…” Aranea hesitated behind Ambarys as he searched his belt for the door keys.

Ambarys half-turned to look at her, surprised. “Come on, that boy up the mountain? He’d talk your ear off in a week and himself to death in two. Ruvene pays him half as much for keeping the customers busy while she mends as she does his sewing.”

He unlocked the door and gestured her in. Aranea kicked off her boots and went gratefully. The bed was simple and small, but it was a luxury after months of a bedroll on hard stone. She sunk into its embrace gratefully, groaning her relief. She flexed her sore feet and cast a half-hearted Restoration spell.

“Won’t it get busy?” Aranea asked. Audible through the floor was the creak of the door and the hum of voices as those who had spotted her outside filed into the cornerclub, flagging Malthys to bring them drinks and food while they waited.

“Malthys can handle it,” said Ambarys. “They’re just eager to hear you speak. I can send them away though, and leave you to rest …?”

Aranea smiled at him tiredly. “Sit. It’s nice to see you. And let them stay, I’ll go down in a moment.”

Ambarys settled her pack in the corner, then dragged a chair over. He rested his elbows on his knees and smiled down at her stretching over the bed. “And you, priestess.”

“It’s been a while,” Aranea said, mind returning to what they had been discussing. “But if you think Tinoryn’s not suitable…”

“It’s not that,” Ambarys dismissed the idea with a wave. He frowned at Aranea then. “Unless you’re thinking you need the company. I’d – we would love to have you for the rest of the year. You don’t need to live up there alone.”

“Ambarys,” Aranea interrupted him. “I must. I am a priestess of Azura, I must tend her shrine.”

“We could send people up, every month, week, even,” Ambarys argued, “You could just stay here. Just – think about it, is all I ask.” He raised his hands, seeing her exasperated look. “This room is yours for as long as you want it, whenever you want it, you know that.”

“I do.” Aranea could not resist a small smile. It was the same argument they had every year, and he’d yet to convince her. Ambarys deflated.

Closing her eyes, Aranea let the lull in conversation stretch into silence. The headache she had nursed during the carriage ride was increasing until it felt like daedra were knocking in her skull. Her skin was throbbing in complaint at the changing temperatures, and her stomach felt a little queasy from the altitude difference. They had not gone slowly down the mountain, and Aranea’s body, used to the icy, scouring winds and unyielding spine of stone, protested at the soft warmth of the wooden bed, the creaks and sighs of the breathing cornerclub.

Windhelm was a noisy city, even now, Aranea could hear yelling and clanging, even the rapid thumping of drums from somewhere and the stamp of feet, all almost drowned out by patrons shouting for Malthys’ attention and talking amongst themselves. Somewhere, a baby was crying. Smells roiled for her attention, the piss and ale scents worked into the woods, the unwashed bodies cramming into the bar below, the faint musty scent of the blankets.

It was all so much.

And underneath it all, iron and fire, and the invisible threads of gathering zealotry.

“Aranea…” Ambarys’ raspy voice was soft. She heard cloth moving over skin as he shifted, the minute creak of the chair. She hummed in acknowledgement. “Are you… well?”

Sighing, Aranea opened her eyes. She was tired. So tired. Every year seemed to press heavier on her shoulders. Azura demanded much.

But it was a balm to see him there, the wrinkles of his laugh-lines, wearying now under the weight of hard living, his dark eyes, as tender when he looked upon her as they were sharp at any other sight.

“I am,” she said. “But I hear… the winds of war are coming, Ambarys. I fear for the people.”

Ambarys hesitated. Almost nervously, he asked, “Have you seen anything from the goddess?”

Aranea looked away. She had not the strength to confide in him the dark futures she had seen, of the Grey Quarter in flames, grey bodies warped among the red snow, winged, impossible shapes soaring through the sky. “It may happen.”

Ambarys’ face settled into a troubled cast too familiar for Aranea’s comfort. “I don’t know what we will do if Hoag’s boy goes to war again. The Reachfolk massacre was bad enough…”

“What we always do,” Aranea said, taking his hand comfortingly. It was soft and dry in hers. Ambarys looked at her, his grey-red eyes searching. “Survive.”

A slow smile lifted his lips, warm and true. “Until the next dawn, then the next?” he said, repeating their old words, words she had said to him many times over many worries.

“And the one after,” Aranea confirmed, and his smile deepened until her heart ached. “The Mother of the Rose will guide us, as she always has.”

“It is good to have you back, priestess,” Ambarys murmured, tightening his grip on her hand when Aranea made to move away. Aranea left it there in his grasp, and his thumb swiped gently over the back of her hand. Fiery chills raced up her nerves.

“I should go to them,” Aranea said, meaning the people gathered downstairs waiting but unable to look from Ambarys’ eyes. A moment passed when she almost thought that he would refuse to release her, didn’t know how to quantify the feeling that inspired, but then all at once he had let go and stood.

The chair scraping on the floor spelled the end of their reprieve. Still, Aranea smiled at him as she passed, half for his tired eyes, half for the thawing knowledge that she would have all winter to see them again.

A ragged cheer arose as Aranea descended the stairs, blinking in the light. She inhaled, more than a little taken-aback by the solid wall of bodies that greeted her, heaving in through the ajar doors. There were more there that she could see, crowding in the street, pulling the braziers round to stand in a circle of warmth. A hush ran through them as she raised her hand.

Ambarys appeared at her shoulder, a bottle in his hand, wry smile on his lips. He offered Aranea a thick woven cushion in the Hlaalu style, and Aranea sank down on it with relief, right there on the stairs, where all might see her easily. Her old bones thanked her.

She sniffed the bottle. Sujamma.

“Thank you,” she said, and Ambarys gave her a mock-bow.

The crowd gathered round, eager faces shining in the warmth of the fires. Some she recognised, who called for her by name, she greeted with smiles. Aranea was surprised, but pleased, to see a few non-Dunmer faces in the crowd. There were one or two quiet Nords sweating in the heat, a few cloaked Argonians who had smuggled themselves into the city and whose scales gleamed like rubies in the firelight, even an Altmer, stood at the very back but clear towering over the others. It was always good to see more drawn to Azura’s teachings, and Aranea knew that if they had been permitted to know of her arrival, then they were trusted by Ambarys. She made eye contact with one of the Argonians and smiled.

As if sensing her preparation, the crowd settled after a moment, looking at her expectantly. Aranea breathed in, slowly. Teaching was tiring, true, and she would have preferred to rest, but she could not deny those who had such a hunger for what she had to say.

She took a sip of sujamma to wet her throat, and began.

“Lady Azura is the patron of dusk and dawn…”

[isimp4yts]

Needing You

draco x hufflepuff!OC

A/N- hi! this is my first chapter of my Draco fanfic that’s on wattpad. It’s called Needing You by isimp4yts. hope you enjoy it! it’s pretty much slow burn and idk if i’m gonna make it spicy yet but it’s definitely gonna be a lot of angst.

Word Count: 1.7k

Talia was woken by her brother, Cedric, throwing a pillow at her while stifling a laugh knowing full well that the ‘attack’ would aggravate her as she wasn’t really a morning person. As she groaned into the pillow that was thrown at her she sat up a little bit, throwing the pillow to the side.

Glaring at Cedric she barely grumbled, “I was just about to get up you know” and dangled her legs off of her bed reaching for her slippers.

“Yeah, sure you were, either way you’re up now. Come on dad wants you to hurry up and get ready, he doesn’t want to be late”, he said with his voice echoing more as he walked out of Talia’s room.

So that’s what she did, she got dressed and brushed her long brunette hair trying to control the fly aways. Of course there was no need to make too much of an effort in her appearance as she could sort herself out at the Quidditch World Cup when she gets there. She went downstairs and saw her father holding two backpacks, knowing one was hers and Cedric with his own backpack already on.

“Come on darlin’, we have to get there on time, we don’t want anyone to be waiting on us do we?” her father said while rushing her out the door, with Cedric, giving her her backpack.

~~~

Talia, Cedric and her father were waiting in a woodland area for some friends of her fathers to meet up with them, well Cedric was sitting in a tree. The boy couldn't sit still for the life of him. Talia kept switching the weight from each leg as they started to get tired, from waiting for so long. In the distance some voices could be heard and Amos stepped forward, greeting the voices.

“Arthur! It's about time son” Amos says to a ginger man with several people following, Talia recognised all the people behind the man but one, however she had never really spoken to any of them even though three were in her year. The ginger man whose name must be Arthur apologised for their lateness and introduced her father to the others. Talia smiled at the three who were in her year, giving them a small nod.

“This is Amos Diggory everyone, he works with me at the ministry”, Arthur explains then moves to gesture Talia just when Cedric jumps down from the tree making her flinch and slap his arm. Arthur reaches his hand out to Cedric for him to shake it, saying “And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?”.

Cedric lets out a small laugh at the compliment, as does Talia, just what he needs, more fuel to his growing ego. Although Cedric is seen as a sweetheart to most, he truly is a nuisance to his younger sister when he wants to be.

“And of course Talia, you must know the kids since you’re all in the same year” Arthur smiles at her, also reaching to shake her hand. Talia smiles sweetly at him taking his hand and simply nods at the older man.

“Merlin’s beard, you must be Harry Potter” Amos says while stepping towards the brunette boy with glasses. Talia knew him purely from the gossip that goes around Hogwarts, apparently the first year he was there he saw You-Know-Who and the second year he killed the Basilisk. All with the help from his friends Ron and Hermoine, to which the students gave them the name ‘The Golden Trio’. Talia stopped listening to their conversation, eager to get going, the group of wizards and witches walked up a hill looking for the portkey, which was a boot. They all held the boot, while Amos counted down. When he reached three Talia felt her head spinning then she let go and gracefully made her way to the ground along with Arthur, Amos and Cedric, while the others landed with more force. The young girl looked at her surroundings while taking a deep breath of air, using portkeys always made her lightheaded. She turns to see Cedric helping Harry up and the boy taking his arm with a smile and thanking him.

The group started making their way to a large field with several tents and Arthur exclaimed “Welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!”. Talia, Cedric and Amos separated from the rest of the group to get their tent ready. The three went inside the tent which was larger on the inside with a bunk bed for the siblings and a normal bed near it for their father. Talia sighed and threw herself on the top bunk bed while shouting “Dibs!” watching her brother shake his head as he headed towards the bed, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto his sister's face.

“Dad! Did you see that! Icky tried to suffocate me with that hideous jacket of his!” Talia shouted, trying to get her father’s attention but failing as he waved his hand at her while he was putting on the kettle, showing that he couldn't bother with the siblings bickering.

“I think you should stop calling me that childish name now Lia, since some people consider me to be rather strapping”, Cedric responded with a cheeky smile. Talia stuck her tongue out at him then climbed down the bunk bed with Cedric’s jacket and proceeded to shove him and his jacket into the bottom bunk and then run away. Cedric jumped back up almost immediately, chasing after his younger sibling but he wasn’t quick enough as she had shut herself into the bathroom catching her breath.

“I knew that comment would go to that big head of yours, do you really want that forehead to get bigger since it looks like that’s where your ego is?” Talia joked while looking at herself in the mirror and patting down her hair.

“Big talk for-”

“That’s enough from you two. Talia come out and have some tea, you too Cedric, I really can’t be dealing with the both of you pissing about” Amos says as he unlocks the bathroom door with his wand pushing Talia out.

The two siblings giggled at how quickly they managed to annoy their father and sat down to have a cuppa tea before they got ready for the Quidditch game. Both the Diggory children misplacing each other's belongings while doing so.

~~~

The Diggory’s went into the stadium, to find their seats when they saw Arthur and the others also looking for their seats. They could hear Ron asking how far up they were when an arrogant voice could be heard from below them. The Diggory’s went to catch up with the Weasley’s and Co. when they saw Lucius Malfoy making a comment to the lot.

“Father and I are in the minister’s box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself” a voice next to Lucius said. Draco Malfoy, quite the peculiar child, found it incredibly entertaining to make others' lives miserable with snide comments on anything from their appearance to their upbringing. Harry, Ron and Hermoine gave him a cold look, while Talia just stared blankly at him. She didn’t really have a problem with Malfoy since they were partnered together in Potions in second year for a project. Of course at the start she wasn’t too fond of the boy but she didn’t want to judge him from the way he treated her and everyone else in first year, she knew people could change. A problem with Talia was how she was very optimistic and gave almost everyone too many chances to prove themselves to be a better person. Draco also wasn’t too fond of the hufflepuff at the start, as she was too happy all the time and it made no sense to him that someone could be so joyful. But the two warmed up to each other, well as much as Draco can warm up to someone, he didn’t pester her and was no longer mean to her. In fact he didn’t really say much to her unless it was related to schoolwork. What neither wanted to admit was they found each other rather interesting as they both lived such different lives and treated people so differently, they didn’t realise people like the other existed. They both had mutual respect for each other as they went on with their lives both being studious and having their separate friend groups and going on with their lives without bothering one another.

Lucius snapped at Draco telling him to stop boasting, and put his head down with a grim look on his face, brows furrowed. The elder Malfoy then told us to enjoy ourselves and went off to the minister’s box while Talia and the others made their way to their seats. Cedric nudged his sister while they continued up, and said “pleasant bloke that Malfoy is isn’t he” to which Talia replied “which one?” and snickered at her remark. After being blessed with the presence of Lucius Malfoy she understood why Draco was, well Draco. She decided to forget about the encounter and Draco’s interaction with his father and got herself riled up for the game.

~~~

After the game Talia decided to go to bed early since she was exhausted from all the travelling she had done that day, but the early night didn’t seem to happen since she was shaken by Cedric so she’d wake up.

“Icky, piss off would you-”

“Get up now, we need to get out of here” her brother interrupted her, his eyes wide. She sat up and saw her father worrying and telling them to hurry up. Cedric pulled her down and held onto her arm running as fast as he could into the woods, dragging his sister with him. Their father barely catching up to them, Talia kept looking back to make sure he was still behind them and that they didn’t lose him and saw black figures flying in the air. Cedric finally stopped, pulling his sister behind a tree and signalling his father to join them as they all crouched. Cedric noticed his sister shivering and he didn’t know if it was from fear or being cold. Either way he engulfed her in a hug making sure she was safe while looking at his father who looked back at the field trying to figure out who caused the attack.

“Dad, do you have any idea what that was?” Cedric questioned while trying to calm down his breathing.

“I have no idea son” Amos replied then placed a firm hand on his daughters shoulder to try and comfort her.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Day 4: “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?"

Actors AU

Tears roll down Annabeth’s cheeks, the bright lights making them glisten against her pale skin.

“Did it mean anything to you?” Reyna chokes down a sob of her own, “Did I mean anything to you?”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth shakes her head, like she can’t process what's happening, "I didn't mean for it to end this way.”

“But it did.” Reyna’s voice is clipped, strangled on emotion.

“AND CUT!” Someone yells from behind them. “That was perfect ladies! Don’t even need to do another take.”

Immediately they both relax, loosing their shoulders, and giving each other beaming smiles. Their director comes over, as does the rest of the crew, and starts debriefing them. Tomorrow they’d start on the first of many action scenes so all of them needed to be prepared. Weeks of stunt and action-training would all be put to the test, and Reyna for one was beyond excited. Although she had been in a fair number of movies at this stage the action scenes had been minimal and she hadn’t needed such high-intensity training till now. The crowd disperses as everyone packs up to make their way home for the night. 

“That was good.” She grabs her co-stars hand and squeezes.

“So good!” The blonde agrees, “And now I'm ready to go home and crash onto my couch with a burrito and a good movie.”

“Oh so anything with me in it then?” She smirks.

“You wish Arellano, there must be something to drool over. I’m thinking ‘Persephone’s Fall’ so I can stare at both Persephone and Hades.”

Reyna can’t help but agree because those two actors are truly delicious, and from what she’s heard unbelievably nice on top of that. She doesn’t know Silena Beauregard or Charles Beckendorf personally but she had seen them around a few times at award shows and after-parties.

‘What are your plans?”

“Oh,” She thinks about it for a second, and comes up empty. “I don’t know. I guess go home and crash.”

Grey eyes roll, “You are such a bore. You are coming home with me. We can both eat messy burritos and copious amounts of ice-cream and watch the movie.”

“Oh?” Her shock is evident on her face and it makes her co-star laugh.

“Come-on let’s get out of all this and go home. I need a shower desperately.”

Reyna makes haste of stripping and folding the clothes she needs to return to the costume department and then tugging on her own grey sweatpants and lavender hoodie. Her makeup is a problem for later so with a final glance around her trailer she slips into her sneakers and grabs her keys. The nights are starting to get chilly as they slowly slide into winter and it is particularly evident tonight when a west wind blows across her cheeks, biting at the flushed brown skin. 

“You ready?” A voice calls from the darkening lot.

“Yep, just have to drop this off in costumes.”

“We can go together. And then you’ll meet me at home?”

“Sure, do you want me to stop and get anything?” The place their clothes in the bin labelled ‘Used on set’, huddling together as they step outside into the now icy wind.

“No, I think I got everything. I’ve already ordered the burritos, they’ll be there by the time we are, and I already have chocolate and chunky-cookie ice-cream in the freezer.”

Reyna nods, “See you in a bit.” And then she’s hopping onto her motorbike and shoving her helmet over her head. With a rev she is off, racing out of the studios and to Annabeth’s. She can no longer feel the wind on her face but that doesn’t stop it from seeping through her clothes and freezing her insides. She hates winter. Luckily her destination is not far and soon she is pulling up to the apartment buildings and parking in the visitors section. Bright headlights catch her eyes and she recognises Annabeth's car, a bright blue Mini Cooper. The first time Reyna had seen it she laughed so hard the blonde had punched her in the arm. She had to start line runs with a numb arm and a very unhappy co-star. Luckily a custard-filled doughnut and a hot cup of coffee made her a very forgiven friend.

The blonde walks towards her, a brown paper bag swinging in her hands. “I forgot I didn’t tell you where I live and I was panicking the entire ride over that you’d gotten lost and I'd never be able to find you and then I'd have to work with,” She makes a disgusted face, “Hera. Ugh that would have been a disaster.”

“Glad you have no concern for my personal safety,” Reyna huffs, “You only care about you’d replace me.”

A teasing smile twitches at those pink lips, “You can injure yourself after we finish this.”

She shoves her as they get into the elevator and they both end up squished against the cool metal, laughing.

“Leave me be Arellano, or we battle to the death!” She whips out her car keys and points them menacingly.

“Never Chase! We duel till dawn.” Her motorbike keys are gripped tightly in her hands, the grooves digging into her skin, and there is a gleam in her eye that promises war.

As the elevator jerks to life they stand opposing each other, legs apart, brows furrowed, and barely restrained laughter twitching at their lips. It is very awkward, then, when the elevator door slides open to reveal to very confused people on the other side. Quickly they straighten up and move to the back of the box, biting their lips to hold in the giggles threatening to escape. Their shoulders press together as they wait for their floor and they absolutely refuse to look at each other. 

It is a blessing when the elevator dings to indicate their floor. They race out of there, hand in hand, and breathless with laughter.

“Did you see their faces?” Annabeth snorts, clutching her stomach as she tries to let air into her lungs. 

“What if they thought we were two robbers fighting for the right to steal in the building?” Reyna gasps.

“Or two cosplayers trying to fight for the princess’ hand.” The blonde falls to the hallway floor, unable to hold herself up.

“They probably thought we were absolute weirdos.”

“We are weirdos.” She giggles, “Come on let’s go inside before we traumatise more residents.”

So they stumble into her apartment and collapse onto the couch to collect their breaths and composure. Reyna takes the time to glance around the place she’s only briefly seen twice and is surprised to note the sheer lack of personality on the walls. She thought there’d be pages full of weird facts ripped out of old-fashioned medical books, and tons of half-done architecture drawings scattered on the coffee table. And a picture or a few of Annabeth’s beloved Greece with its old structures and beautiful oceans. 

“Are you judging my blank walls?” Those grey eyes are still closed to the world so it is an amusing surprise to hear the question.

“Why are they blank?” She doesn’t bother to deny the judging.

“In a burst of inspiration i took everything down a few days ago to redesign and then i lost all that inspiration and haven’t had the energy to put anything back.”

Indeed there were small hooks, and bits of tack stuck to the wall. “Want me to help?”

There is quiet for a while, and she almost believes the blonde had fallen asleep but then, “That would be great. But not today. Today we feast and laugh!’ And with that she launches herself off the couch and races to the kitchen.

Reyna laughs and follows suit hopping onto the counter as Annabeth worked around her. She offered to help with prep but she was instantly shooed away so she sat contently on the granite top and watched her friend busy herself around the kitchen, unpacking the bag she’d brought in that held the still warm burritos, and grabbing the ice-cream from the freezer along with two spoons.

“Drink?”

“Just water.”

“You grab the glasses, i’ll get everything else.” She points to the cupboard next to the sink. “I’ll have water too, there should be some in the fridge.”

Finally they had both settled down in the lounge, shoulders pressed together and feet tucked underneath them. The blonde fiddled with the TV for a little before the opening credits to Persephone’s Fall starts playing. She looks over, grinning wildly, and holds up the foil cylinder. “Cheers!”

They bump their food together and settle in to watch the movie. And as Persephone falls for Hades, despite their sarcasm and smart-ass comments, Annabeth laughs herself silly and Reyna drowns in the sound. And she thinks, sitting their in that cosy apartment, shovelling ice-cream into their mouths that maybe falling wouldn’t be so bad. She already has her Hades afterall.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags:

@nishlicious-01

@leydiangelo

@spoopylucy

[wordsablaze]

6. a storm raging on the horizon

your beauty hides the pain Lost on the mountain, Jaskier accidentally angers a mage who decides to curse Yennefer with his company and for once, it might actually be a blessing in disguise…

A/N: sorry in advance for the mixed signals in this one :p @random-nerd-3​ @surreal-static @10moonymhrivertam x

previous chapter

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It’s a temple.

Of course it’s a temple.

Jaskier has been dead on his feet for a while by the time they get there but Yennefer’s makes a swift beeline to the small fountain in the centre that, unless he’s gone entirely mad, seems to be glowing, not that he has the strength to question it.

“I won’t be long, bard,” Yennefer tells him.

“If only you would be,” he mutters, half-heartedly smirking at her before she kneels by the fountain, doing who knows what.

He’s too tired to care about what she’s planning so he lets himself settle on the floor once more, leaning his head on his lute as he lets his eyes slip shut. He’s not sure if seriously debating his life choices counts as resting but that’s all he manages before the familiar tug of yennefer, get closer to yennefer, yennefer, you’re too far away from yennefer, yennefer returns to his bones.

Yennefer curses before he can even think about moving and the warmth of somebody sitting next to him fills his mind. “Jaskier?”

Humming, he opens his eyes to see Yennefer’s perfectly raised perfect eyebrow. He chuckles despite everything. “It can be considered impolite to stare, my lady.”

His stomach rumbles before she can reply and he winces, offering her a sheepish grin. She doesn’t seem amused though, and her expression morphs into confusion. “They didn’t bring you up any food yesterday, did they?”

“They were too busy trying to kill me,” Jaskier confirms.

“I thought-” Yennefer cuts herself off with a curse in a language he doesn’t recognise.

Well, at least that explains why she’d assumed he’d be perfectly fine with walking for miles. He can’t exactly blame her for misinformation, can he? Well, he could but he likes to think he’s just a little above that kind of behaviour and- ah who is he kidding, he just doesn’t want to hold a grudge against the very sexy but insane witch he’s literally stuck with until further notice.

“You could have told me!” Yennefer grumbles as if this is somehow his fault.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Yes, darling, I’m sure that would have gone well, especially after you and your chaos nearly stole my voice. You know, the usual method of seduction is taking someone’s breath away, not their entire livelihood.”

Yennefer looks annoyed for a moment, elbowing him sharply, but then she frowns again. “You could still play the lute.”

“Yes, but nobody pays for a tune without words and so a bard isn’t really a bard if he can’t sing. Or flirt. Both of which require a voice.”

He hadn’t meant to say anything particularly thought-provoking but Yennefer is silent long enough for him to think he’s said something that at least doesn’t just irritate her, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how much he likes that realisation. He does not want to go into why he likes it but he’s content in acknowledging it’s nice to exchange more than barbed words here and there.

The sun rises before either of them do.

“Oh, how beautiful,” Jaskier breathes instinctively.

Yennefer scoffs at first but then follows his gaze to the horizon just past the fountain that seems to be glowing even more than it was before and maybe Jaskier is just imagining it but he thinks he hears her gasp. And he wouldn't blame her for the dawn is truly a thing of beauty that he firmly believes anyone can appreciate.

“I was hoping this place could break the spell,” Yennefer admits eventually.

Jaskier turns to her, finally taking his eyes off the sunrise. “I take it the spell is more complicated than that?”

With a small chuckle, Yennefer nods. “There’s not a lot I can do when I don’t know why it was cast in the first place.”

Guilt blooms in Jaskier’s chest as if trying to establish its own rotten garden. “I’m sorry. Really, I know the last thing you’d want is to be stuck with me but believe me when I tell you I simply cannot imagine her reasoning either.”

Yennefer hums, then elbows him again. “You could be worse, bard.”

It takes a moment for her words to register but as soon as they do, Jaskier half-turns and grins at her. “What was that, darling? First the apologies and now a compliment? Maybe I’ll have to thank that other witch!”

“I take it back,” Yennefer mutters darkly, standing up and brushing dirt off her dress, “and I’m afraid we’ll have to walk back again until I can portal us anywhere else.”

Jaskier sighs, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet. It can’t be that bad, he tells himself, and he’s definitely been on more tiring adventures with Geralt so he can totally do this, he can definitely do this without embarrassing himself in front of Yennefer.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jaskier says, slinging his lute over his shoulders. Yennefer follows the movement with a clearly sceptical hum but says nothing, starting to walk at a thankfully reasonable pace.

He manages about a minute of silence before clearing his throat. “So, what was in the box?” he asks.

Yennefer sighs loudly. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“And do you often sacrifice things to temples? Well, I suppose that’d be more of an offering actually so, uhm, do you often leave offerings of mysterious payments at temples or…?”

Another sigh, but Yennefer slows enough for them to Jaskier to only be half a step behind her. “Do you always ask this many questions? It’s enough to drive anyone mad, bard.”

And it has, when he thinks about it. Not just almost his entire family and various patrons who it turns out weren’t actually interested in his bardic talents but also his very best friend in the whole world. Maybe he should stop asking so many questions about witchers and witches and write more about the sunrise or nobles who won’t mind hearing his ballads for at least long enough for him to stock up on coin.

“How is it that even your thinking is irritatingly loud?” Yennefer asks, interrupting said thinking.

He huffs. “Well it’s hardly my fault you make a habit of spying into other people’s heads. What, is yours inadequately furnished despite all that power you’re meant to have?”

“I do have power,” Yennefer snaps, turning to him with ire in her eyes, “but you wouldn’t know the first thing about being powerful even if you were anything more than just another bard.”

Jaskier scowls at her. “I’m not the one who resorted to chasing dragons with my entitled fake boyfriend because I wanted to be more than just another witch.”

For a second, he thinks she’s going to kill him. And then the second passes and she just grits her teeth before continuing to walk, leaving him to groan and scramble to catch up so he doesn’t feel like he’s being ripped apart again. Gods is he getting tired of following around people who would rather he didn’t exist.

-

idk if anyone’s still reading but if you are, sorry it’s not v exciting, juggling wips is not exactly my forte. anyway, hope you’re having a good december <3

-

thanks for reading! | masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[junhaoshua]

my ode to fandom

2020, the start of a new decade, is ending. 2021, the start of my adulthood, is beginning. I’ve always wanted to do a post about my fandom journey, and I’ve also decided to change my url starting next year: from the old faithful @moonlightmasquerade to a url for my new fandom, @junhaoshua. So before taking such a huge step, this felt like a perfect time to thank all the media that has shaped me as a person throughout my journey of youth.

This is half-chronological, half-remembered. This isn't comprehensive, because it doesn't have to be to be meaningful. It can't list every single fandom that has made its mark on me, because there are too many to count. 

This is about many people’s stories, including my own. This is about love and power and growing up and changing. This is about how transformative work can transform lives. 

To fandom: this is my ode to you.

To Frozen, the fandom that was my first love: thank you for being the place I discovered fanfic. Thank you for teaching me that it was okay to be myself. For teaching me that my parents could make mistakes when raising me even though they love me. For showing me that villains can be redeemed. 

To MLP, the fandom of my early teens and beyond: thank you for being such a big part of my life. Fallout Equestria, making me realise the impact of war and giving me hope that people can heal from the worst, that we can make a difference in the darkness. The Immortal Game, telling me that trauma can be overcome and my fate is in my hands. Hard Reset, teaching me to persevere despite the odds. Turnabout Storm, introducing me to the franchise that would inspire my future career. Freeport Venture, guiding me as I grew into my own person. These are lessons that kept me going throughout the rough years. Thank you for teaching me to write magic systems and epic fight scenes. Thank you for giving me hope that one day, even a shy bookworm like me would find my friends. 

To Wicked, the fandom of my tumultuous years: thank you for teaching me that I could be beautiful and loved no matter how I look. For opening my eyes to the cowardice of people. For helping me to understand why injustice can thrive. For telling me that sometimes you lose your best friend but you don't stop loving them. Thank you for preparing me to face all this in real life. 

To Star Wars, the fandom I was “born” into: thank you for creating a world that inspires writers. For the trilogies and the beautiful fics that were born from them. For the flaws in canon that made fans want to fix them, and write wonderful stories. Double Agent Vader and the questions of agency and power and justice and the need for righteous indignation. Reylo fics and redemption and atonement and forgiveness. The sequel trilogy stories, too many to count, about finding your family and being your own person and healing from trauma.

To Marvel, the fandom that has brought me comfort for years: thank you for starting a franchise that lasted me throughout my childhood. For the stories of X-Men and being ostracised for being born different. For the ideas of Avengers Tower and the Defenders and Spider-verses and other teams, which may not have been well handled in canon, but which inspired so many stories about dangerous people coming together and being accepted for who they are. For Daredevil and making me decide that yes I’m going to be a lawyer and no my disability will not stop me. 

To DC, the fandom I grew up in: thank you for the DCAU that I spent hours watching as a child. Thank you for inspiring so many amazing, creative people to write. Batfamily fics and the stories of well-meaning Dad Bruce who screws up despite his best efforts. Babs Gordon and being a total badass from her wheelchair. bricklaying and its discussion of power and class issues and trauma and identity, a story that I go back to time and time again. 

To Hamilton, the fandom that inspired me: thank you for introducing me to the wonderful genre of rap and hip-hop. For helping me to realise that there are villains, there are people who make mistakes, and there are people who exploit others’ mistakes. For awakening a fire and ambition in me that I had long tried to douse to try to fit in and be more likable, and telling me it was okay to be young scrappy and hungry. And for reminding me that the people I love are important, too.

And now, to the grand prizes, to the fandoms that have been the biggest part of my life.

To Harry Potter, the fandom I first participated in: thank you for opening my mind and broadening my horizons. For helping me to move past my conservative upbringing and my prejudices (the thanks is all to the fandom, not to canon). For helping me to find my first fandom family, my best friends @reapersbarge and @a-symphony-in-vellichor. For being full of stories about healing just when I needed it. For Dramione, a ship that would lead to me publishing my very first fanfiction, inspired by the wonderful @colubrina. For Drarry and my second fic that gave me the chance to tell a story with my best friend and the other half of my brain. Without HP, without these friends, I would never have found the courage or inspiration to finally finish and publish my stories.

To Six of Crows, the fandom I grew in: thank you for being my first experience with representation in stories. For opening my eyes to the world of YA novels and so many wonderful, amazing stories. (SoC was literally one of the first YA novels I ever read and I wouldn’t have gotten into bookblr without it). For helping me learn how to work with an ensemble cast of characters that all got a chance to shine. For inspiring me to come back from my long writing hiatus and rediscover the joy of being an author. 

To Taylor Swift and Marina, my two favourite solo artists: thank you for music that perfectly fits whatever I’m going through. Thank you for reputation and Electra Heart when I was hurt and angry and trying to build a shield to hide my scars. Thank you for Lover and Froot when I was trying to learn to be happy again, to conceal my hurt with a smile. Thank you for folklore and evermore and Love + Fear when I was finally ready to unbandage my scars and confront everything that I had faced and declare that it did not break me.

To Seventeen, my biggest current fandom: thank you for bringing me joy during this tough year. For always giving me something to look forward to every Monday when the days passed in a blur. For the new friends I’ve met here who welcomed me to caratblr, especially @soonhoonsol, @thekidultlife, @haosvteen, @myunqho, @xuseokgyu and @haoranghae. For reminding me what it feels like to fall deeply into a new fandom for the first time. For the amazing fics and gifs that always bless my dash (there may be another, separate post on that). For awakening my desire to write fic again after a long drought where I couldn’t think of a single thing, and giving me more plot bunnies than I know what to do with. Thank you for being a safe space that helped me to grow and heal and smile again.

To conclude this story:

Throughout my journey, I’ve seen the same threads and themes over and over again. To be my own person and not the person that others moulded me into. To be ambitious and hungry and the hero of my own story. To find my own family, to choose the people I claim as my own. To see injustice and apathy and evil and hopelessness, and to be angry and stand up against it. To believe that people can change, can atone for what they’ve done, can be redeemed. To believe in the power of hope and light against the darkness. 

Fandom is a part of my life that I truly can’t imagine being without. It has been the lifebuoy when I was stuck in trauma and unable to escape. The bandage when I was broken and bleeding and despondent. The glue to put me back together when I shattered into a million sharp-edged pieces. The armor when all I wanted to do was rip out my feelings and put up stone walls around myself. The candle that guided me through the night until I was ready to step into the daylight. 

For the fandoms of my past: I may have become less active, less involved, but I still return to the songs and stories that have been an integral part of my youth. I see them now with older, wiser eyes, and recognise bits and pieces of my personality that I absorbed from them. I’ve never truly left a fandom; how can you leave something when it’s part of you?

For the fandoms of my present: I want to live in the moment and enjoy my experiences for as long as I can, even if I’ll outgrow them one day. I know that even if I move on from them one day, I’ll always treasure the lessons learnt and the memories made, and they’ll have a special place in my heart no matter what.

I believe in the power of stories, of movies, of music, of fandom. I would not be who I am today without it. Every fandom I’ve been in has left an impression on who I am, made its mark on me, a golden tattoo. I can look at them and trace the way each and every one has shaped me into the person I am today. 

And as I hover in the in-between of childhood and adulthood, as I stand now a kidult, I’ll embark on this new phase of life with all the lessons that fandom has taught me, and will continue to teach me for many years to come.

[exosmuttytalk]

Guardian

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, unnamed female OC (told from the perspective of DO)

Genre: angst.

Rating: mature.

Warning: this deals with topics darker than my usual. Death, suicide and mental health problems mentioned. Proceed with caution and take care!

Summary: there is no summary because the core happening of the story is what makes it as a whole, so you gonna have to read to find out lol

(excuse weird formating, I'm on mobile)

First thing I noticed the moment after you quietly stepped through the front door were the deepest dark circles I'd ever seen rimming your eyes.

Your eyes had always been beautiful. Big and bright, they usually shone with a mischievous spark of intelligence and expressivity. Many times I looked at you and wondered how it was me who became the actor when you seemed able to tell stories with your eyes. On the rarer occasion, your eyes also warned me of the times you slipped closer to your darker-than-reality inner world, that one you were able to scape from when you were barely older than a teenager, through sheer will, family support and a necessary dose of drugs to balance your neurotransmitters. But the longer we were together, the more fulfilled your professional life became, the better relationships you held with other people, the more you enjoyed your hobbies, the more seldom I got to see those hints of sadness barely concealed behind fake content smiles.

This time was not one of those rare times. This time, when I looked at you, I felt genuine fear for you.

This time, your eyes did not show sadness. They didn't even look tired. They were just...completely indifferent. They glossed over our living room and didn't even acknowledge my presence, although I had occupied my usual spot at the armchair for quite a few hours already. 

Greetings weren't exchanged either. 

I vaguely remembered last night's fight. Even though we used to pride ourselves in the fact that communication was easy for us, daily life, stress fuelled by our jobs and our inability to sometimes see each other as often as we wanted would put a strain on any relationship. But we always managed to solve those issues. They were never such a big deal for us. Or were they? 

As you carelessly dropped your oversized folder on top of the dining table, I remembered about the project you needed to hand in at the end of this week. 

"How did they like the design this time?" My question was aimed towards finding out what may have caused the icy expression in your eyes. You adored your job at the firm you and some colleagues had set up a few years after you finished your architecture studies. You never missed an opportunity to  ramble on and on about what was your life's passion project; even though most of the times I wasn't able to follow every explanation, I was always happy to listen. 

Not this time. You turned on your heels swiftly and walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Jackie, but leaving me behind with my unanswered question. 

Was it bad enough to deserve this silent treatment? 

I could hear you rummaging through the shelves and then I saw you making your way back to the living room, Jackie swiftly walking behind you. You always cradled Jackie for a little while before opening the can of delicious cat food that would go into her plate. You absolutely adored that little rescue cat and the feeling was mutual; a relationship I had never been able to partake in. But this time, you simply dumped the contents of the can into the bowl and gave the animal a absentmindedly pat on the head. You didn't even look at her. 

After that, you lied down across the sofa in the same clothes you'd gone to work in and pulled out your phone and headphones. That made me wonder where my own phone could be. I was always aware of my terrible memory even if there were more pressing issues at hand. Headphones were covering your ears just seconds after and I was left there, silently wondering what the hell was wrong. 

Maybe you'd had a truly awful day at work? Maybe you were overworked and needed to rest? Could you actually be that mad at me? I truly don't remember what I said, but whatever it was, I'm so sorry. 

As I got lost in my thoughts, Jackie had already finished her food and, after grooming herself a bit, she hopped onto the sofa and nestled herself up against your belly. That was the only moment I saw you react. You briefly glanced down from your screen to the cozy creature in your lap. But you didn't smile. You didn't pet her. But I got to see your eyes and there was no indifference in them no more. They were miserable. 

I was so scared, baby. I had never seen you so unresponsive and distressed in all our years together. From experience, I knew better than to try to touch you in some instances, so I went for the second best option. I got up and rushed down the hallway to our room, where I supposed I had left my phone. It was time to call your mother, your best friend, whoever was around you when you first had an outbreak. They would know what to do better than me.

I had barely started looking around when I heard the door bell ring. Then I heard it again, insistent. I stopped on my tracks and listened, expecting you to go get it, as you were closer. By the third time, the visitant had switched to knocking and I guessed you weren't able to hear it due to the headphones, so I turned around and rushed back to the front door. 

I peeked through the peephole and felt a rush of relief when I recognised your best friend. Bless her soul, she may actually have some sort of mental connection with you. 

"It's Sarah!" I shouted in your direction, getting no response back. Just before she knocked for a second time, I reached out for the door knob. The door didn't open. I stared at the door knob in confusion. It was the same piece of silver metal that had been attached to that door since we first got the apartment together years ago. The same familiar and innocuous whatnot I made use of every single day. Maybe it was stuck? 

Once again, I reached for it, although this time I was intently watching my right hand. 

My fingers. 

They went right through the knob. As if it wasn't actually there. As if it wasn't even corporeal. 

The impression made me fall down on my butt, but I didn't have time to process anything, as Sarah gave a final loud bang to the door and shouted. 

"I know you're there. You either open yourself or I'll call the police" 

The threat finally made you stand up and go open the door. From my position down on the floor, I could see how you were easily able to grab onto the doorknob to at last let her in. Being sort of your polar opposite on that regard, Sarah immediately latched on to your neck and you stoically responded by patting her back with one of your hands. As for me, I stared at my own hands in disbelief. 

What the fuck was going on!? Could I be dreaming? I tried pinching myself hard and I felt it hurt, but nothing else happened. I was freaking out and seeing both of you in front of me behave in such a mellow way only increased my alarm. 

Of course, Sarah lead the way to the kitchen, pulling your arm and stepping right beside me as if I wasn't having a straight up meltdown down at the floor. Jackie had trotted behind you to the hall and was now looking straight at me with what seemed to me a full of disdain expression. At least someone recognised my presence. 

"When was the last time you ate?" Sarah's usually loud voice came booming from the kitchen. This question was odd enough to spark my interest, so I stood up and headed that way. 

"Yesterday," you responded in a monotone voice. 

Sarah, who had started stocking up plastic boxes full of already prepared food in the freezer, turned around to look at you with an eyebrow raised. 

"You sure about that?" 

"Yeah. Also, there's no point in that, I'm not even hungry," you answered again before turning around to occupy the spot you'd left at the couch. 

To be fair, she had filled the sad looking fridge with at least a week worth of meals for two. Was the fridge that empty last time I checked? 

"Baby, you can't be doing this to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything, OK?" you suddenly snapped back at her. I had never heard you speak to her in that tone. "I am fine and I will be fine. I just need you all to leave me the fuck alone!"

With that said, you went back to adjusting the headphones over your head and to rummaging through your phone. Sarah stared at you with a dispared look on her face.

"And you know that is definitely not healthy. I am done with this. I'm looking for a therapist and you're coming to an appointment on Monday."

"Do whatever the fuck you want. I am not telling you how to live your life." 

Sarah sighed and nodded in response.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through and how absolutely devastated you must be feeling right now. And I know it's barely been a month, but you can't let yourself slip this way, not with your records." 

A month since what? 

You shrugged her worry off. 

"I'm leaving. I will call you later. If anything, please, at least send me an emoji or something so I know you're okay."

You grunted at her before she kneeled down next to the sofa to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Then, she left the house without even glancing at my direction.

I had witnessed the whole scene from a corner of the room and I had grown in my bewilderment with every spoken word.

As soon as I heard the front door softly closing, I walked up to the sofa and circled it, so I was able to see what you were doing that had caused such disagreement. 

"KSoo <3" read the letters at the top of the easily recognizable screen of the chat service we used on a regular basis. As I approached you even closer, I could hear my own voice coming from your headphones. I remeber sending you that audio barely a week ago, when I asked you to make a quick run to the grocery store before coming back home, as I needed some more ingredients for that night's dinner. 

Your eyes were filled with silent tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Second part: GUARDIAN II

MASTERLIST!?

Other Kyungsoo shizs

Everyday

Stories of my downfall  + Kai

@exosmutxoxo​

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Older Than Yesterday...

My Darling Charles Christian,

Happy birthday, my sweet boy. I can’t believe it’s been twenty-four years since my whole world changed. You were the sunbeam that brightened our dark world and I am forever grateful for the blessing that you are. I do not know where I would be or especially where your father would be without you in our lives; you truly changed us for the better and in so many ways that I can’t even express to you. You are our everything.

I think about you every waking minute of every day but especially on February 9th. Every year I pray you will come home for the next birthday and I’m sure one day that prayer will be granted. It’s been now three birthdays without you and it doesn’t get easier but we manage. This year, Evelyn’s made you a cake and we’re going to eat it at tea together this afternoon and maybe sing a few of your favourite songs.

Your absence is heavy on my heart but I know your sweet soul is shining on everyone around you, even all the way up into the clouds. Fly safely, darling. Come home soon.

All my love, forever,

Mum

February 9, 1942

The quiet whispering that filled the bunkhouse wasn’t loud enough to rouse Charles who slept on peacefully. He was draped on his stomach, sheets fallen down his bare back, and face squished against his pillow as he snored lightly. He had the top bunk so Richard needed to carefully step up onto the side of his own bed below him to reach over the metal railing and set the whistle between his lips.

The crowd of the rest of their squadron surrounded the bunks with one other young man on the opposite side of Richard with a handful of shaving cream in his palm. Richard counted down from three on his fingers before blowing the whistle as loud as he could. Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin, flinging around in just enough time to earn a slap in the face with shaving cream. The men erupted into laughter and shouts of “happy birthday!” as Charlie was still trying to wrap his brain around what just happened.

He swiped the shaving cream off his face to actually see something and Richard was still standing up on the side of the bunk.

“Happy birthday, Charlie.” Richard giggled, not dodging fast enough before his best friend slapped him across the face with a scoop of shaving cream himself. “Hey!”

“Bastard.” Charlie laughed tiredly before flopping back down onto his bed with a sigh.

“Come on. Read your letter. Breakfast waits for no one.” Richard said and tossed an unopened letter onto Charlie’s stomach before blowing the whistle loudly again. He jumped down from the bunk before Charlie could smack him again and he ran off laughing.

The letter was addressed in his mother’s neat handwriting and Charlie smiled as he wiped off his face on his sheets before he opened the envelope and pulled the paper out. He read his birthday letter with a calm smile before tucking it back away and setting it safely on his small shelf above his bed. He didn’t want to get it or her nice words stained in shaving cream.

Once Charlie showered and cleaned himself up and was dressed in his uniform again, he made his way to the mess hall for a late breakfast. Richard and a few other guys were already at their usual table and they waved him over before he could line up to grab food from the canteen.

“Already got you.” Richard said, stepping aside to reveal the stack of (mediocre, half-burnt, army-quality) pancakes with a candle stuck in the top.

“What the hell?” Charlie laughed shyly as his best friend tugged him over to the table.

One of the passing officers walked past and gave him a friendship slap on the shoulder, “Happy birthday, Seavey.”

Charlie thanked him quickly before Richard was holding out his hand so someone could toss him a lighter. The squadron sang a loud version of the ‘happy birthday’ song after the candle was lit and Charlie glanced around their little group calmly. Many of the men had been killed or gone MIA but new ones were always coming in to replace the old. They were a good group of young men but Charlie and Richie knew not to get attached to people if they didn’t need to.

When the song was over, Richie patted Charlie’s shoulder as they stared down at the small candle burning atop the stack of flat pancakes, “Make a wish.”

February 9, 1922

“Make a wish, Charlie.”

At freshly four years old, there wasn’t much that Charles knew about the world. In fact, his world solely consisted of his family, their friends, and the park down the street from their house and that was pretty much it. Now he was faced with the ability to wish for anything he ever wanted and that seemed like a lot of pressure.

Charlie shuffled closer to the table on his knees on the dining room chair, staring at the chocolate cake donned in four lit candles sitting in front of him. The flames reflected in his bright blue eyes as he raked his young brain for a wish. A bicycle? A dinosaur? A trip into outer space? The possibilities were endless.

His mother was crouched behind him with a protective hand on his back and was staring at her son adoringly. His father was stood behind her with a calm smile on his face as he watched his son in his youthful intense thought. His baby sister was sitting in the arms of Corbyn on the other side of the table, the rest of the Besson family grinning alongside him at the young boy too. His two sets of grandparents and two aunts were there as well: his whole entire family and his whole entire world in one room.

Charlie glanced back over at his parents, catching the eye of his father again. With his simple reassuring look, Charlie grinned and turned back to his birthday cake. He shut his eyes really tightly, took a deep breath, and blew out his four candles.

His family cheered lightly and applauded, and the birthday boy grinned with pride before sticking out a little finger, swiping it through the chocolate icing on his cake, and popping it in his mouth. The chocolate icing was deliciously sweet – made to perfection by the loving hands of his mother – and she pressed a kiss to her son’s chubby cheek before getting up to start serving the cake.

“What did you wish for, buddy?” Corbyn asked from across the table.

Charlie smiled a small bashful grin as everyone watched him to wait for his answer. He just looked back up at Daniel who had taken Elizabeth’s spot beside him and was starting to unstack the dessert plates while his wife got the knife from the kitchen. Charlie reached a little hand up to his father and wrapped his fingers around his shirt.

“I wished to be just like Daddy when I grow up.” Charlie said softly.

The room filled with swoons from the adults at the adorableness of the eldest Seavey baby and Daniel was taken by surprise at his son’s answer. He fought with himself a moment before crouching down beside his son and pet a gentle hand over his soft brown hair. Charlie innocently swiped another little scoop of chocolate icing onto his little finger and pushed it into his father’s mouth with a youthful grin.

Daniel didn’t complain – even though he didn’t like chocolate cake – and just leaned in to press a kiss to his son’s head before whispering softly to the same spot, for just him to hear,

“I love you with every part of my soul, Charles Christian, but I pray you never end up like me.”

Twenty-years later and Charles still remembered those secret words whispered to him on his fourth birthday, although now older, he finally was starting to understand what they meant. It had been three years since he heard from his father and his heart nearly ached with how much he missed him. He was older now: a bit taller, much more muscle, and his hair was overdue for a trim…would his father even recognise him? Recognise the maturity in his voice? See the visions of crashing planes and smoke-filled skies in his blue eyes? Would he see too much of himself in his son now? Was his father so scared of himself that he no longer wanted to see the same changes his own son had endured?

“Charles.” Richard nudged him. “Come on, mate. We’re all hungry. Make a damn wish.”

Charlie glanced over to his best friend with a small smile before looking back to his single candle on his stack of pancakes. He set two callused hands on the tabletop to lean forward, inhaled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candle.

I wish Dad was more like me.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx​ @hopinglimelight​ @jonahlovescoffee​ @hiya-its-amber​ @chanelwonders​

[mrslackles]

Do you think the show runners know the backlash that season 3 is getting? Since the coronavirus shut down production early, if they get renewed, do you think they’ll fix the mistakes they made? Is there any hope for this show? Lol

I definitely think they know. It’s their jobs to know. As viewers we get stuck on it being entertainment and the artistic aspect of it, but for them it’s a business. Not knowing if their show -- which makes money -- is well-received would be like sending out an ad campaign and not checking the stats. We only ‘see’ writers and social media people, but there are tons more people behind the scenes at the network tracking how many people speak about the show and how much is positive VS negative. There are programmes designed to track mentions all over the web and analyse how well your brand/name/business is performing in the hearts of its target demographics. This will all be fed to the showrunners, who will have to report to their superiors about it and, probably, what they intend to do about it.

And that to me truly is the most hopeful part. The customer is always right, after all. Nothing proves that more than what happened with the Sonic movie. If they get a fourth season and they don’t fix anything, then that will immediately prove that the theories are correct about them actually wanting to get the show cancelled so everyone can be let out of their contracts. There’s no other explanation.

But if that’s not the case then I do think it’s fixable, especially since the finale wasn’t allowed to play out. I have a feeling it would’ve been as detrimental and DNA-changing to the show as 2x13 was. It being cut off before that could happen was a huge blessing -- now they can see the audience reaction and course-correct. (Just imagine if Rio had genuinely died this time in a plane crash before they saw the major backlash about how he’s been treated this season.) 

Nothing can ever change all the damage they did this season, but my philosophy as a writer is that everything can always be fixed, and so I truly believe that there’s a chance of that if they really cared enough (and, possibly, brought back the old writers). I really wish that for you guys who will be sticking around. This show has always had such great potential and I hope they will remember that and recognise what a loyal, dedicated fanbase they have (which a lot of other shows would kill for!) and reward it with the storylines and respect it deserves.

[thunderbird-one-ai]

Restraint

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go

rating: Teen

Characters : Scott, Alan

Alan was always the brother who got smothered the most. The one who was protected, who was saved for getting caught out. But now, Alan was the one doing the saving.

So I’m starting off my first @badthingshappenbingo​ for @kenzie-running-free​ with the multiple points of ‘Kidnapping’, ‘Cradling someone in their arms’, and ‘cry into chest’ which includes the youngest of the brothers Alan. 

I can’t believe the response I got from uploading my bingo card and I’m super excited to start writing more. I hope this one is a good start off! I’m also going to make each prompt semi related to one another like a mini series all on its own! 

International rescue always came with difficulties. Why wouldn’t it? Having to travel across the world at supersonic speed, getting into dangerous situations to save people in need would always have a risk of injury somewhere. Alan felt like he had less chance of being injured. The reason for this was because he had four older brothers always looking out for him. Four older brothers that would easily get in front of him or move him out the way before the harm even got close. He was used to this type of life. Yes, he went on missions that were more dangerous than others, but his brothers were always there for him. It was somewhat of a comfort to Alan, to know he was never truly alone. But things were different right now. International rescue had been hit hard. A seemingly simple mission, to which Gordon politely jinxed in saying ‘When is a mission ever this simple’, had gone horribly wrong and Scott was missing. Two days had gone by. Two days of Virgil keeping constant communications with John trying to find the oldest brother in the family. Two days of the family almost breaking apart. They all knew it, but it was never said. Scott kept this family together. He was the super smother hen glue that never failed to keep everything just as it should be. But now he was no longer here, and the family was breaking. By the third day, everyone was on minimal sleep. Virgil, Gordon and Kayo were needed on another rescue despite Scott missing. John was the first to say that Scott would still want them to help the public, even if he was in trouble. This left Alan, alone on the island feeling completely useless. He walked into the main room, sitting at their fathers’ desk. The desk that Scott had taken over since their dad went missing. Despite everything, sitting here, he felt he was somewhat closer to Scott, but it felt wrong to sit here. Alan agreed to himself that he should never sit in this chair, something felt so utterly wrong about that thought. He sighed, leaning back in the loved leather chair, looking over the splurge of information that was projected in front of him. John had clearly broken a lot of laws to get some of the information Alan was seeing. Under better circumstances, he would be teasing John, saying how he was being more like the younger Tracys’ with their rebellious natures. But this was another worst-case scenario. The last time a family member went missing was almost eight years ago, and Alan would know everyone would break knowing that Scott was gone too. Alan shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Not now, every other brother was breaking apart at the seams, he couldn’t do that too. He needed to help, wanted to help. As if on cue, a blue hologram lit up in front of him.

“John! Did you find anything?” Alan said quickly, preying this wasn’t just Johns older brother instincts to check on him since he was alone. “I might do. I’ve been tracking some very strange communications happening under most of the GDF’s radars. At first, I thought it was small amounts of jargon before I kept seeing the same initials pop up over the course of two days,” John said calmly before Alan saw him do a few hand movements and more images appeared in front of him. How John could read any of this was a miracle to Alan. Even looking at what was in front of him made Alan's own head hurt. But what John was trying to get across soon stuck out like a sore thumb. Two letters together, even on their own people would recognise what that abbreviation meant. I and R. Alan's eyes widened, hope starting to fill the chasm that had been getting bigger over the last three days. “Scott…” Alan mumbled, looking back to John and received a nod from him. “I’m almost certain, I haven’t found any other references, and this was very well hidden. Whoever did this, didn’t want anyone out of their known group to know about this,” “So, what now?” Alan immediately thought of contacting Virgil, Gordon and Kayo, saying that John had probably found Scott and they should mobilise immediately. But Alan guessed John knew what he was thinking. “The others can’t leave the site, another seven-point-three magnitude earthquake just hit off the coast of Japan, causing the already damaged structures to start collapsing. They can’t leave that many people in danger,” John said with a slight frown. “Then let me go. I take Thunderbird three to wherever Scott is and bring him home,” Alan said almost immediately after John finish. But if Alan was being honest, he expected a ‘no’. That he was too young and inexperienced. That is was too dangerous. There were a few seconds of silence. “Get suited up, I’ll relay the position of the messages to Thunderbird Three once you are in the air,” “F.A.B,” Alan had never run so fast to the sofa in all his life. TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB “ETA fifteen minutes John,” Alan stated, once he was clear of the island. Those fifteen minutes were going to feel like hours, but he wasn’t going to let his mind wander, not this time. “Once the others have finished up, I will send them your way as well. We don’t know what the situation is going to be like, the building I suspect Scott is in is heavily shielded. These guys mean business. This was no fluke that Scott was taken,” “They knew what they were doing. They targeted him,” Alan added and hollo John nodded. “I think he was,” Alan landed quite a way off from the building, making sure to stay under any radar, which for Thunderbird Three wasn’t exactly easy. But this was Alans Thunderbird, he knew how she worked, how she flew through the sky. It took another thirty minutes to eventually see the complex John has discussed in the flight over. It was well camouflaged in the dense forest surrounding it, he doubted that without radar you wouldn’t have seen the building at all if you flew over it. As he got closer, he noticed there weren’t any guards outside. Not even surveillance. But with how dense the forest was, Alan doubted they got many ‘visitors’ here. Getting into the building would be easy, getting out would be the hard part. “Once you get inside Alan, I can’t guarantee I can contact you. Be safe,” John said, and Alan nodded. “I bring him home John, I promise,” “I know you will, I never would have agreed if I didn’t think you couldn’t,” John gave a small smile to Alan, but Alan saw the tell-tale signs of worry. This wasn’t just a normal semi ‘dangerous’ mission. Alan shut his comms off and began the first task of getting inside. The walls were unusually thick, Alan guessed the inner walls were no different, roughly thirty centimetres of concrete which would be heavily reinforced if even John couldn’t penetrate the walls. There were no signs on the walls, no indication on whether he was going the right way at all. This place was a maze, a maze designed to thwart any chance of a rescue attempt. But Alan wasn’t just any rescuer. “Where could you be?” Alan mumbled to himself, searching all the rooms he came across, in hopes of seeing his brother. He heard hushed voices coming down another unmarked corridor, though this one had some outlining factors. The main one being large steel type doors on each side. He silently made his way down, hearing the voices grow louder, confirming he was going in the right direction. Once he got close enough, he could make out some words. ‘Information’, ‘regret’, ‘dead’. Those words causing alarm bells to ring in Alan's head. His brother could only be a few metres away and it pained Alan to wait, knowing his brother was in danger. The corridor gave little in terms of safe hiding spots, so Alan walked back, finding an open and disused room. The dust has settled everywhere meaning no one had come in here…yet. But this was the best hiding place Alan was going to get until it was safe to approach the room that he just knew his brother was in. He chanced an opportunity to try and contact John, but as he stated earlier, there wasn’t a link. This place was too shielded. So, he waited, hearing the distinct sound of someone hitting something solid down the other end of the corridor. Alan shut his eyes, he knew what was happening to his brother and couldn’t do a damn thing about it right now. This situation was messing with Alan’s head slightly. Knowing he was only a few metres away, hearing his brother probably getting beaten for information about International Rescue, was driving Alan closer and closer to the edge of insanity. He was standing there in a corner in mental anguish knowing Scott was in physical pain. A blessing finally occurred when the faint noise of metal sliding on concrete passed into his ear. The voices growing louder the closer they got to the room Alan was situated in. He held his breath, hearing their heavy footsteps walk past. He heard them joking, joking about how they almost felt sorry for beating a retrained prisoner. Alan found himself snarling in the darkness. He moved swiftly and silently over to the slightly ajar door, the only ajar door in this corridor. With a huge amount of restraint to just fling it open, Alan moved it slowly, causing minimal noise. The sight that was in front of him, made him gasp in horror. Scott, his oldest brother, the one who for so many years Alan thought was invisible, untouchable was slumped over in a chair. His face bruised, lip bleeding, wrists bloody from the rope keeping him in place. It was an image Alan knew would be in his nightmares for many weeks to come. He slowly walked forward, kneeling in front of his brother, placing a hand over his. The flinch Scott replied with almost broke Alan right there and then. He’d never seen Scott flinch like that before, not even when he’s accidentally called him ‘dad’ from time to time. “Scott, it’s me, Alan,” Alan said quietly. Scott’s head lifted slowly, giving Alan a better look at his face. Apart from the busted lip and bruises, he now saw one of Scott’s eye had completely closed, refusing to open. “Oh Scott.” Alan set about working the ropes, forcing the tears that threatened to spill outback down. Now was not the time. After a few painstaking minutes of undoing the first rope knot, Scott’s left side was essentially free. Free enough for him to lean forward, and Alan having to grab hold of him to stop causing more damage to his right wrist and more importantly, not make any noise. Scott seemed conscious enough when Alan first checked him over, but with how much of a dead weight Scott was now, Alan worried that there was much more wrong with his brother than he initially thought. With some skill and a bit of luck, Alan managed to untie the last knot keeping his brother to the chair and helped him to the floor, holding Scott close to his chest. He checked his pulse, slightly elevated but it felt strong, some of the best news Alan had got in the three days he’d been searching for him. His brother was alive, he wasn’t gone. After giving him the once over to make sure there wasn’t any more physical damage, Alan set about thinking of a way to escape. He didn’t think Scott would be hurt this bad to the point of being cradled in his arms as Alan used to when he first found out his dad had disappeared. Scott was always there, waiting, arms open allowing Alan to curl up. Now the roles were reversed, and Alan didn’t like it at all. “Come on Scott, we need to get out of here, the others will show up soon and Virgil will get you properly checked out. We’ll be home. Me and Gordon messing around, you sitting in dads chair looking over us like you always do,” Alan couldn’t help but let a single tear fall before wiping his face quickly. Damn it he was on a mission he couldn’t let emotion get in the way now, he still needed to get Scott out of here. Alans head shot up towards the door, hearing footsteps come closer. He couldn’t move Scott into the other room he had found earlier, Alan was trapped. He couldn’t do anything; he couldn’t protect his brother for the men that had already done so much harm to him. They were so close until the building visibly shook. Debris fell from the ceiling and Alan covered Scott with his own body. He would not let his brother get hurt more now. This was his mission, to be his brother’s keeper. The footsteps hurried away in the opposite direction and Alan heard another sound that gave hope to anyone in trouble. The unique sound of Thunderbird Two’s engines. Alan felt a small movement in his arms. Even though Alan knew Scott was out of it, he was sure Scott was reacting to the sound of Thunderbird Two, the sound of safety and help. “We’re almost home Scott…Almost home,” TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB To say the week went by like a blur was not an exaggeration when Scott said it. When he woke up in the island infirmary, he believed that he was probably hit around the head due to falling rocks. One day, not wearing his helmet will be the end of him. But when Virgil filled him in that four days has passed since then filled Scott with dread, and worry. He wasn’t worried about himself; he was worried that his brothers had to help him, regardless of the situation. Scott was meant to be the team leader, the brother to lead the way, to help all his younger brothers, stop them from getting hurt and now he was the one being suffocated by every one of them. All but one, the youngest who he was trying to find late at night. If Virgil hadn’t gone for a nap, Scott never would have been able to escape the infirmary unattended, but he had to find Alan. John had filled him in on most of what happened. How Alan found him, dragged him from his confinement and outside to Thunderbird Two. Apparently, Alan never left his side during the journey and that night, leaving the room when Scott started to stir. Scott slowly made his way into the main room; he didn’t have to see properly to know where to walk. This was his home; he knew every placement of every item. He also knew that his brother wouldn’t be in the house. Alan was always good at hiding when not wanting to be found, but Scott was equally as good at finding him, eventually. He stopped at his dads’ desk to take a breather, his body not quite recovered after three days without food and water but a lot of beatings. He looked around the darkened room as well as looking out the window to see if Alan was near the pool. But it was deathly silent, no little brother insight. Unless that’s what he thought. “He’s in the hanger, last seen heading to Thunderbird One,” Scott jumped slightly, he hated jumping but his body was only having negative reactions to being startled now. He turned around and looked up to, seeing John leaning against the stair bannister and small smile on his lips. “You should also be in bed still Scott,” “I need to see him,” was all Scott could say. “I know,” John replied and walked down the stairs. “He’s been there for a while as far as EOS has told me,” Scott nodded in appreciation, before slowly making his way to the hanger. The hanger was lit at all times since International Rescue never really slept, but John had done a good job in redirecting the calls in from today to the GDF. John would only ever do that if he was concerned that they weren’t fully up to the task. Scott silently admitted to himself they weren’t, and he was to blame. He’d got himself caught, got himself beat up to the point that his youngest brother, the one he should be caring for not the other way around, had to rescue him. Scott’s mind went into autopilot as his body lead him over to Thunderbird One, he’d done this long walk many times to conduct repairs or see the latest system update. He could do it blindfolded. Once he turned the corner, he got a glimpse of Alan, sitting down against a wall, starring up to Thunderbird One. The bridge to his beloved bird was outstretched and the cockpit open. Scott concluded Alan was sitting in the chair for a period before eventually coming out and sitting down nearby. He didn’t understand why though. Scott made his way over as quietly as he could seeing Alan staring blankly at Thunderbird One, clearly distracted, not realising what was going on in his surroundings. Just how long had Alan been sitting there for? Scott’s luck eventually ran out as Alan turned his head, looking Scott straight in the eye. Alan went to stand up, but Scott was now too close and held onto his arm as he slid down the wall, a sigh escaping his lips as his aching muscles were now allowed a moment of rest. Alan pulled his arm a little, but Scott made sure to hold on as tightly as he could. Scott couldn’t recall how long they had sat there in silence, his backside slowly getting numb was a good indicator though. “John gave me a rundown of what happened,” Scott said finally breaking the silence, but Alan didn’t budge, his eyes still fixated on Thunderbird One. “You did good kid…” “I didn’t do anything,” Alan snapped slightly causing Scott to look a little surprised. “Alan, breaking into a reinforced building with armed men and not getting caught isn’t nothing you know,” “Yeah? And then what? I find you barely responsive beaten and battered because I let that happen. I heard them, Scott. I heard what they were doing to you and I just…. I hid in a corner doing nothing. I was useless,” Alan said, his bottom lip trembling as he looked away from Thunderbird One. “Alan, you weren’t useless. John was able to pinpoint our location thanks to you. Once Virgil had destroyed the main generator area that housed the jammer, John traced your signal to find us, mine got busted. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be there,” Scott squeezed Alans' arm though he saw it didn’t help relax him at all. “You were gone for three days Scott. Three days this house felt…empty. Everyone was at each other’s throats they didn’t eat, sleep. Do you why that is? Because they all have fresh memories of dad and how hard it was for them, realising they couldn’t make more of those memories. I don’t. When mum died…dad threw himself into work, coming home late when I was forced to go to bed because of you and the others. I didn’t see him for days on end sometimes, and the rare days we did sit down as the family….those memories I cherish, that I cling on to because I have nothing else. I don’t remember spending time alone with dad. I don’t remember him telling me tales of space expeditions. I don’t remember the pain of him leaving our lives,” Alan said, and Scott heard his voice tremble at certain parts. “But I remember you. I remember you reading me tales of dad’s adventures and yours. I remember you coming back from meetings and sitting down with us having dinner, talking, laughing. I remember our first mission together. Just us, in space, doing a boring ‘safe’ mission. I remember all of that and it reminded me of how much I was going to lose if I lost you,” Alan looked over to Scott and he noticed that Alan’s eyes were red, tears collecting in the corners. Scott frowned slightly before holding his arm out and Alan moved over, pushing himself up against Scott’s chest. They didn’t speak for a while after that. Scott moved a hand through Alans' hair slowly whilst he felt his top slowly get damp with tears. Scott knew he couldn’t stop Alan from crying, he knew he couldn’t stop the pain and he so desperately wanted to. He held Alan close, his grip not once faltering whilst they both let out their emotions in different ways. Scott didn’t cry, he didn’t feel like he had the right, but he held onto what was dear to him. Moving a hand through Alans' hair further proved that he was here in this moment and not back in that dreaded room, alone without anyone. “Don’t leave me….” Alan said into Scott’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere Alan, I’m right here because you saved me,” Scott replied, planting a soft kiss on top of Alans' head before going back to running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t over, both of them would need to recover after this. But they would be able to recover together, as a family.

[mother-snake]

the blind rose

part one of a series! -theodore meets someone who he never though he would ever see in his lifetime. a firendship is formed and a destinay is set in stone- (if any warnings are needed please say!)

A most peculiar meeting.

Theodore’s pov-

the docks were filled with ships, ranging from small and very close to being destroyed by the tide, to looking like they were owned by the richest of the richest. But he supposed that was true.

The smell of seaweed and salty water filling the air with a both calming and disturbing scent. the sea breeze brushing the ruffed-up edges of his cloak in an almost dramatic fashion.

The sun had begun to set, lining the ships with a golden halo. The sound of laughter filled the air as people wondered the streets drinking merrily as they made their ways home. A few passers-by’s gave me a wave, recognising the hood that hid the person. I gave a small nod in return.

I grabbed and pulled my cloaks hood further up as I stopped and looked around the area. my mind set on the tavern. It had practically been my home for years. Anyone who knew me mainly were drinker’s or common travellers. I loved both, they could tell wild stories that anyone had come across or image. I took part on story telling occasionally. Pick pocketing gave some stories after all.

I had thankfully snagged enough money this day to get a room for the night and maybe a meal. But that was it. I smiled as more people passed with their loved ones linked in arms or hands. sometimes I wondered where my own family was. They had left me years ago with no way to return home. Not that didn’t mind though. The rules where I’d lived restricted everything, I could do there. The laws being much stricter for thieves.

As the building came into view the smile on my face grew ever so slightly. It was old and looked close to falling. I had been coming here for seven years running and it hadn’t changed one, bit except the barrels of flowers on the outside, giving it a semi friendly look in hopes to attract customers. White and blue banners hung everywhere along the streets. The festival would be starting soon. He hoped to not be there for that and off on the sea or roads. He knew the guards were close to figuring out he was the pick pocket.

One noticeable thing to me was that there were many people from places overseas filling the streets. Even this late at night. I suppose with the events and festival to celebrate coming up it wasn’t a surprise really. The prince was meant to find a suitor… this also meant the amount of rich spoiled people were around to pick of was much higher… and so were the chances of getting caught. after ding the suitor he would be married withing a week and crowned.

I reached up to my neck and gave it a quick scratch. The shimmering sea green scales itching under the thick fluffy cloak that kept them hidden and warm. Being cold blooded and living near the sea wasn’t the best.

I reached the door to see it already wide open. The door kept open by a large stone. I pulled the hood down and made my way inside. those that had never seen me fell silent, I shifted nervously as I looked around the room. Those that had seen me many a time in here looked over and waved. Happy to see their friend was okay and alive or another day. I waved back happily.

Because I had been coming here for years the regulars had grown used to my appearance. He chuckled as he remembered their reaction to seeing him all those years ago for the first time. The newcomers stared a little longer. I didn’t blame them. I truly was a strange sight to see.

The leathery mini fins that sat behind my ears twitched along with them as he took in the noise that slowly began to get louder. My cat slit eyes scanned the room for an empty table. Hoping to find somewhere to sit down from walking all day. Traveling and pickpocketing was something that took energy quickly, especially when you get caught and have to start running. And today had not been a good day. At all. my scraped knees can confirm.

I let out a silent yawn and ruffled his unkept hair. the only free place was where a figure was sat a cloak covering their features as if they didn’t want to be seen, I didn’t think much of it. Several people did that here every now and then. I had done it one.

I smiled and made my way over to the booth. Sliding in the opposite side and letting a small sigh as they finally could rest.

“hope you don’t mind me being here,” I said as the cloaked figure jumped at my sudden appearance in front of him. They continued to stare, I could tell by the gaze seemingly burning into my skin. The feeling of being watched was one I had to learn quickly in my profession.

“may I ask your name?” the figure mumbled barely audibly from underneath. “Theodore lightwood, it’s a pleasure,” I held my hand out. “my name is Nicolas Bernard.” I sat a little longer looking at the other. Blankly looking at him, barely registering that I was shaking hands with the soon to be crowned king. Only one person held that last name after all. “you’re the…” “please don’t say anything. I don’t need the guards taking be back to that prison of a castle.”

I slowly blinked. Nodding. I knew what it was like to be stuck somewhere you didn’t want to be. I sighed and leaned back. Placing my hands in the pockets of my practically torn shorts. A small sachet barely holding any coins lay in a pocket. But it was enough for the night I thought once again.

The prince stood up and walked over to the bar. Leaving me in my thoughts. Several of them making him loose track of what I was thinking in the first place. It was when a cup was placed in front of me that I snapped out of my scattered thoughts.

I grinned as I watched the prince sit down with his own drink in hand. They sat in silence, but it was peaceful. Something I hadn’t experienced in a while. It was nice.

The city was loud and so were the people. You could barely turn a corner without seeing some group of people talking. I chuckled as I looked over to catch the other stealing glances over as peaked from under the hood of his cloak. His eyes widened as they caught me looking at him “so, why are you here anyways?” I asked “needed to get away from my father. If I have to hear about how marriage is not based on the person but their connections. I’m going to scream,” his head lifted giving me a better view of the person underneath. curly ginger hair poked out. contrasting his pale complexion was a large scar running from his jaw to his eyebrow.

I thanked whatever god there is that the lighting wasn’t that good, thankfully hiding the small blush on my cheeks.

“I honestly don’t blame you. If you talk to anyone around here all they talk about is who you might end up choosing. And in all honestly, I don’t think you’d pick any.” “how would you know that?” he asked looking at me with a deadpanned look. “I just have a feeling.” I took a small sip from the cup in front of me. “well then,” he sighed,” you wouldn’t be wrong. But you’re not right either.”

I looked at him for a couple seconds. Finishing the drink in hand. “well, I best see if there is a room available here. Its was nice meeting you sir Bernard.” giving a small bow and grinning at his eyeroll I made my way over to the bar. Waiting for the owner, a normal routine. I just hoped there was actually a room available.

It was when he realised the entire place fell silent did, he turn around to see what had caused the very drunk people around him to almost sober up so quickly. I swore under my breath as soon as my gaze landed on them.

several figures wearing red stood by the entrance way; my eyes went wide as they walked over to the booth where his new friend was sitting, hunched over.

They whispered something and he stood up, the hood of the cloak falling off. I got a clearer look on his face. His curly red hair looked almost untameable compared to mine. No longer hunched he looked almost an entire head taller than I.

“can I at least give a quick goodbye to my friend?” Nicolas sighed looking at the guards almost pleadingly. “very well your majesty.”

He quickly manoeuvred past them and made his way over to my side. He held his hand out with smile that could rival a child’s.

I chuckled and shook his hand, “stay safe your highness.” “and you too Theo, may we meet again one blessed day.” “indeed.”

And just as quickly as the guards had arrived, they left, taking his friend with them. I looked around the room to see people staring at me, mouth agape. “what?”  

[jasmineangus]

I entered 2020 with high hopes and expectations after experiencing the biggest confidence knock of my life. I decided to stay positive and think of all the things I would do this year to prove people wrong and to make myself proud. The year started off with some amazing celebrations and hard work. Being eighteen was amazing and my life was about to begin. Then whispers started emerging bout ghosts I had left in the year prior, rumours and speculation tinted my rose tinted glasses black until I had lost a friend (to what I still couldn’t tell you) and the confidence ceased to exist again. But my amazing family and friends built me up once again.

Until the 18th March. The day the earth stood still in my eyes. Everything I had spent the last 5 years working towards, all my goals and aspirations shattered. The one thing I wanted to leave this year feeling was proud and that was stripped away from me alongside my exams. Then as we entered this alternative universe and me and my friends suddenly because keyworkers and our parents stayed at home, I became adjusted to this new norm whilst tackling my own demons simultaneously. We stood outside every Thursday hoping to clap the virus away. We kept our distance and we washed our hands.

Throughout all this I had been spending months away from the love of my life and zoom calling my friends twice a week. We were all determined to stay connected even when we couldn’t physically. But it hurt and it was hard, but the fact that everyone was doing it made it that bit easier.

Fast forward a few boring months and we hit summer. The summer, the time of growth and memories. Laughter, sun, long nights and sweaty days. We were finally allowed out and I was so desperate to feel the arms of the most important person in my life around me. I longed for the touch of familiarity, something that would make this all feel like some bad dream. But when I felt that touch it was presented with coldness, but because of the summer sun I couldn’t feel it. Maybe I chose to ignore it, or it was a subtle breeze, but it marked the breakdown of something I thought was indestructible.

3rd July. A day I had felt myself again, with the girls being as stupid as always until at around 10pm my world fell apart. What felt like home had combusted into flames and as I ran towards the fire to salvage anything left, he told me he had made his mind. My role in this was obsolete. I had no say. So I spent the summer months wasting away in my room asking myself “what went wrong?”. I doubted every essence of my being until I was my worst enemy. Food repulsed me, water made me feel sick. I just wanted to physically waste away until my body matched the state of my mind. The love and devotion I had, and still have is relentless and trust me I know it’s pathetic, I’m the first one to point it out. But when you build up a future with someone it’s hard to just let it all slip away.

13th August. Now I didn’t think the government could find anymore ways to fuck us over this year but they found a way to roll me over and fuck me sideways with my grades. Fortunately, I was able to get into Manchester and do the degree I wanted but at this point I didn’t want it anymore. I had no passion, no drive and with everything that had happened I wasn’t ready for change. In a world that stood still for 3 months the change in pace scared me so much. But we did it. We moved 175 miles away to Manchester and it was up there with the hardest things I’ve done but I did it. But then I hated it. The course wasn’t what I’d expected, I was still heartbroken and just didn’t like the change. I stuck it out, and by November this place began to feel like home. By my birthday I found myself smiling without faking it, the pressure on my shoulders lifted, maybe thing had finally gotten better.

No.

They hadn’t.

On 24th November at 7:26am I received a call from my mother saying that my grandad had passed away, alone in the ICU. I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck in my room, alone. I couldn’t help my mum, my sister, my grandma. The man who had kept the family together all these years was now gone and everyone was so lost. My mum had to condole my grandma and tell her repeatedly that her partner of 68 years wasn’t there anymore, and I couldn’t do anything to help. It makes me feel sick but I had a gut feeling this was going to happen, it was 2020 after all. Once my mum told me he was having a hip operation, my stomach dropped and I just knew it wouldn’t go well. But nonetheless I thought positively thinking that it was just me being pessimistic. It wasn’t. By the time that was over I thought that I could go home and celebrate Christmas in peace, the year had taken enough hadnt it?

But it’s was nowhere near the end of it. I come home and my best friend, my world and my soulmate had lost crazy amount of weight and gets ill. My baby girl Ayley (yes she’s a cat, and what) is wasting away, but she’s a fighter and I know she’ll carry on, she always has. But I woke up this morning and my stomach dropped and I just knew. My best friend of over 15 years passed away this morning and heartbreak doesn’t even cover it. People always rant and rave about dogs being mans best friend, which I’m sure they are. But the connection I had with that cat is something I could never explain. We were like 2 peas in a pod and she will always remain in my heart. She knew when I was in a depressive state and wouldn’t leave my side when I was like that. She had so much personality and charisma and anyone who met her really was truly blessed.

There is 2 weeks left of this year and I can’t lie, I’m terrified. This year had knocked so much out of me, I really do look in the mirror and don’t recognise myself anymore. I don’t know who I am. I feel so lost and hollow these days and to be honest don’t see the point in a lot of things. I haven’t made myself proud this year and I haven’t proven anyone wrong. This year has taken so much, I don’t know what I can give back anymore. I am so scared to get attached or make commitments now because what if they just walk out or leave too. 2020 has been a tough year for everyone I know, and I am so proud of so many people I know for achieving and getting through the things the have. 2020 has won this year, because I have nothing else to give.

[serendipitybutterfly]

...a month late... A birthday year ahead reading for Kim Taehyung... Featuring a startling revelation?! ... Sir Taehyung???

Sometimes you do a reading and something arises that you didn't even ask for and never expected... But we'll get to that.

In terms of advice for this year for Tae, with the reversed ace of cups and reversed 4 of earth (pentacles) coming as significators of this reading, there's a real message of needing to unblock and release certain energies, situations, attitudes... Imagine a clod of earth blocking a water pipe and the pressure is building up behind it. Eventually something has to give, and it should be that clod of earth... Not the pipe.

Reversals for me generally indicate blockages in areas of a person's life. With an ace of cups in reverse and a four of pentacles in reverse, I'm feeling a blockage in emotional connection or at least in being able to express one's emotions with ease... Which maybe leads to compensating with shows of material wealth... Over spending... Overgenerosity... This is interesting because I think Tae seems to express his feelings and affection for his friends and family pretty well... At least from what we see... But these cards are indicating to me that he struggles a lot with this actually and that he tends to bottle things up until he explodes (like my blocked pipe analogy) or tries to express feelings through ostentatious gifts or compensates for not expressing his emotions healthily by overspending... Essentially the advice is to unblock these energies... To learn earn to release and express his emotions in a healthy way.

Going into the more specific advice cards for the year ahead, we're starting off on an extremely positive note with The Star and the reversed 3 of water (cups). I see with this that there's real potential this year for Tae to fulfill a dream or desire. Something he wants for himself. A personal goal or project that he works on alone. With the 6 of wands and King of Earth (pentacles) we can see that pursuing this will bring him a lot of praise and success as well as greater wealth and stability. This could be anything from a solo music project, to another acting job... I'm not sure exactly what it is other than it's a real wish he has and wants to do it for himself. The advice here is simple; go for it, it will be successful.

At the centre of this reading we have the reversed Sun and the 2 of water (cups). Even reversed, the Sun is still such a positive card... It's just the energy is blocked, delayed... What I'm getting from this is that there is actually a love connection manifesting for Tae in the future which will bring him a lot of happiness... But for now he's going to need to be patient because the timing isn't right. It's coming... Just not quite yet... Though not in the too distant future... Maybe even next year?... It depends on what happens between then and now of course... But i do see happiness in a relationship ... It's just the energy is blocked so it won't manifest for a bit. If he can learn to open himself up and express his emotions this will help bring any desires he has for love into fruition...

For now though he has to work on himself. With the High Priestess and Strength here I'm seeing, and feeling, a powerful development of spirituality... Honestly it was visceral. I think it's highly likely that this year Tae may begin to explore and develop his spirituality more seriously... Certainly there's some deepening and strengthening of spiritual beliefs going on here. His faith in his intuition, in the advice coming from his spiritual guides, will become stronger. As he listens to his guides and gets confirmation over and over his faith is continuously going to deepen, as is his wisdom and understanding of the world.

The last two tarot cards of advice for the year ahead are the 2 of wands and reversed 7 of water (cups). What I see here is the advice to not be afraid to consider his options and step outside the box. He has so many talents and so many opportunities to use his skills and gifts... He's being advised to look at them all... Give them all some thought... And not feel like he has to stick to one certain thing or path when he has so many roads he can walk before him.

Now, for the oracle cards, I got first Winter Solstice: Reflection. Honestly this card made me start humming Singularity, which was interesting (the lyrics make so much sense in this case) ... I feel again a sense of needing to release something. In this case, I get the message of needing to reflect on the past, on all things that have happened, good and bad, lessons learnt and how much he's grown up and matured... And release that which is holding him back from moving forward. The negative emotions and fears which keep him bottling up his feelings and being so wary of opening up to others... This is an interesting one of course because Tae is in a position where there is a legit rational argument for why he should be guarded and wary of new people... But at the same time, you can be sensible without locking your heart away entirely and living with a lot of fear and worry about your connections with others isn't healthy... There has to be balance. Basically... I think this card is telling him to reflect on himself and realise how far he's come and how much stronger and wiser he is now... He can trust himself and his intuition.

Okay... And now this is the card that gave me chills in this reading... This deck is called 'Angels and Ancestors' and I thought it was a particularly good deck to use for Tae because... Idk if I've mentioned it before but, wow, he has such strong ancestral energy surrounding him. His family probably don't play with paying respect to the ancestors because there's really such a strong link there...

Anyway, for his advice for this year I got the Knight card which says 'Be brave and honest'. However, more than just a message of advice for the year I got two distinct impressions that literally gave me chills and goosebumps... First that one of the main ancestors or spirit guides that's looking out for Tae right now was a Knight... Or the Korean equivalent thereof... A noble warrior with a sworn sacred code of morality... And second, that Tae himself, in a past life, was a Knight... (?! When I tell you i was shook!)... Not only that, but, and I kid you not, I heard French in a man's voice (I don't even speak French!!!) saying something like "Mon coeur... Lion..."?... I couldn't understand or make it all out but I recognised those words so they stuck with me. As did the impression that they were part of some kind of personal motto or vow... My heart like a lion...? Honestly I was just stunned at that point... I wasn't expecting to be told anything like this and if there is one thing here I'd like to tell Tae most it's this... This was a lot and unexpected and also... Really quite personal... So I didn't want to pry into it or ask more... I can only say, in terms of advice, I feel like knowing this and coming into that noble warrior, brave, chivalrous energy would bring him a lot of strength and comfort.

Finally... After that surprise... The angel oracle card for his year ahead was Fiona. This card says: Now that you've asked the angels for help, be open to receiving divine guidance and assistance. You deserve heaven's help!

This definitely resonates with the message of his developing spiritual beliefs and opening up to his guides and i think he's definitely already on the right path in this regard. Once he's open to listening to his guides, his angels, his ancestors... They'll lead him to wherever he needs to go and protect him from harm.

The numerology of this reading comes to 11; a number in numerology which speaks to high vibrational spirituality and receiving guidance from angels and spirit guides. Once again I'm struck by the message that this is a year of spiritual exploration for Tae.

I think this has the potential to be an amazing year of success for Tae, both materially in terms of his career and spiritually as he develops his intuitive gifts and strengthens his connection to his guides. He has the power of his ancestors behind him... And they're strong. He's in good hands truly. Bless you Sir Taehyung!!! 💜 💜💜 ♞ ⚔ 🦁 ❤️