#family force you to spend basically most of the time in church

[thatskindasilly]

Woho! Olek time :DD

All photos under :33

[ifyoucandaniel]

exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

[dancingtotuyo]

High Infidelity Part IV

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Joel goes on a date.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: pining, jealousy, masturbation (male and female), voyeurism, self loathing, emotional affair, boundaries crossed

Notes: Things are getting a little spicy hehe. As usual, shout out to my beta readers @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (special shout out to Ang for the ✨spicy✨ idea 😜) and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 4818

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

When Joel asks you to watch Sarah on Friday night, you don’t hesitate to say yes. Then, two minutes later you call him back and ask why. You’re surprised when he tells you he has a date. You should tease him, nag for details, but it’s none of your business. You find yourself wanting to know everything and nothing.

Joel is a grown-ass man. A single man at that, but it nags at you. Who is she? Where did he meet her? The two of you spend most of your free time together. In the six years you’ve known Joel, you can’t remember him ever mentioning a woman. 

His sole focus has always been Sarah. You suppose Tommy is on that list too, and Nathaniel. The two of you have matching worry lines thanks to your husband, and you guess by default you’re on the list too. If there’s one thing Joel Miller is committed to, it’s family.

Joel comes down in dark-wash jeans and a simple button-down. You didn’t know he owns jeans that nice, hugging his thighs, leather belt cinched at his waist. Your eyes rake over him perhaps a moment longer than needed. He hadn’t looked that nice at your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

You raise an eyebrow letting out a low whistle as he enters the kitchen. “Lucky lady.” You take a bite from your apple slice. You point the paring knife at his jeans. “Those new?”

Joel knits his eyebrows together. “No. Why?”

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“You keep tabs on my closet?”

“We’ve basically lived together for 3 years. You wear the same two pairs of work jeans and five ratty T-shirts in rotation. I wouldn’t be surprised if your shirts have the days of the week labeled on the inside.”

“Church clothes.”

You scowl. “We don’t go to church.”

“Speak for yourself, Darlin.” He chuckles, checking his watch, the one you gave him for Father’s Day. You shoot him a suspicious look. “The kids out back?”

“Yup.” You say, taking another bite of apple. 

Joel’s fingertips brush across your shoulders as he passes by, the warmth of his cologne fills your nostrils as he rushes out. A pit settles deep in your stomach. You’re not sure where it stems from, but you don’t like it. You feel uneasy. 

The back door shuts just as a tap on the front door echoes through the house. You sigh, not really wanting to answer it. The pit grows and you still don’t understand where it’s coming from. Sarah and Nathaniel’s muted laughter filters through as you open the door. 

She’s pretty you think. Not someone you consider to be a show-stopper, but exactly what you would picture Joel going for. There’s something almost familiar about her. She looks taken aback when you open the door. You plaster your well-practiced Southern hospitality smile on your face. 

“I’m Joel’s sister-in-law. Just here to watch the kids.” You hold out your hand. Relief floods her features.  

“Tracy.” She takes your hand.

“Nice to meet you.” You can’t shake the nagging air of familiarity about her. It itches your brain, hanging on the tip of your tongue. Have you seen her at parent pick-up before? “Joel should be back soon. He’s just saying goodnight.”

Tracy nods, clutch held tight in both hands. Maybe it makes you an asshole, but you don’t invite her in, forcing her to stand at the threshold of an open door. She wears a solid dress. Her makeup is tasteful and leagues ahead of anything you’d ever be able to pull off, especially with a rowdy toddler. 

For a second you miss it. The freedom that is. You wouldn’t give up Nathaniel for the world. Hell, you wouldn’t give up Tommy for the world even with the shit you’re going through, but the ability to go out at a moment’s notice and let the alcohol loosen your inhibitions, you miss that. Tracy couldn’t be much older than you. Maybe a year or two. Did you go to high school together? Is that why she looks familiar? 

There’d been a couple Tracys in your small high school, but none that look like her. 

“You have a son, right?” Tracy says. You nod. She smiles as if proud of herself for remembering the fact. “Joel mentioned that you two do a lot together- with his brother being in prison.”

“Yeah, we do.” Your shoulders stiffen and your smile tightens. So this wasn’t their first date. They knew each other well enough for Joel to divulge your business like it was front-page news. Though, you suppose it had made the paper. 

“Well, I got them both riled up for ya,” Joel says, walking through the house. He plays with the cuffs of his shirt before looking up. He seems startled to find the door wide open and Tracy on the other side. “Oh- Hi.”

“Hi,” Tracy laughs.

He looks between the two of you like he’s seen a ghost. You cross your arms, a faint smirk playing across your lips. “Just remember payback’s a bitch.”

“Yeah... I don’t doubt it.” Joel almost mutters it under his breath. He joins Tracy on the other side of the threshold, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek. “You ready to go?”

You catch the weirdness of Joel’s demeanor, familiar with all of his tendencies by now. You raise an eyebrow in question, but Joel won’t look you in the eye. His arm wraps around Tracy’s waist, pushing her toward his pickup. 

“Make yourself at home.” Joel throws his hand up in a wave despite his back being turned to you. 

“Always do!” You call back. 

You watch them until the truck is out of the driveway, confusion written across your face as you process the odd interaction. Why was Joel acting so weird- like you weren’t supposed to meet the mysterious lady he’d obviously been out with more than once, and why hadn’t he told you yet? And why did she look so damn familiar?

The moment the door clicks behind you, it hits. You freeze. The familiarity in her face is one you see every time you look in the mirror. She’s not your twin by any means, but Tracy could be your cousin, your sister even. Something you can’t place settles in your gut.

The kids are finally asleep. The TV drones on, but you don’t hear a sound of it. The whole interaction plays on repeat in your mind. You chew on your thumbnail. You can’t stop thinking about them, where they are, and what they might be doing. 

You glance down at your watch. 10:30. You don’t typically go to bed this early, and you’re not tired, but you can’t get it off your mind. Sleep is your only option for relief. 

Checking on the kids, you slip into Joel’s room. You’ve stayed in here more times than you can count as Joel always insists you stay in his bed. It’s automatic how you pull one of his shirts from the drawer. Not one of his five shitty work shirts but one of the well-worn ones he wears on the weekend after he showers. They’re soft. They smell like him, sawdust and old spice, not the cologne you caught on him this evening. You slip under the cool sheets, stretching out your bare legs and burying your face in his pillow. You’re surrounded by him here. 

You thought it would turn off the thoughts, silence your mind, but it doesn’t. If anything they ramp up. You know there’s no way Joel’s had her here. He wouldn’t bring a strange woman into his home, Sarah’s home, that quickly. No, it’s all him in here… and you. 

It’s just after eleven. You’re not asleep. Joel’s not home and your mind is running through the memories as it often does when you lay alone. You’ve spent more nights alone than with someone since you got married. You should be used to it, but you’re not. There should be someone next to you right now. 

Tossing and turning, an idea sparks in your mind. There’s one surefire way to get yourself to sleep. The mere thought sets desire through your veins. Goosebumps prickle your flesh. Your nipples perk up under Joel’s soft shirt. It’s been a while since you’ve touched yourself. 

Kicking the blankets off of you, you let your fingers skim over your bare thighs, moving them upward until your shirt is tucked under your breasts. Joel’s shirt. It has you pausing. This crosses so many lines. You can’t do this here, in your brother-in-law’s bed, in Joel’s bed where it smells like him. Where it feels like him. 

Your cunt clenches and a soft groan escaped from your lips. You’ve barely touched yourself, not enough for that response. Your heart rate refuses to calm down, the flame of desire already spreading from deep in your stomach. You shouldn’t do this, not here, but your fingers trace up and over your sternum again, slipping under Joel’s shirt. You brush your thumb over the hardened buds. You’ll change the sheets tomorrow. He’ll never know. 

A soft moan tumbles over your lips. Your body moves of its own volition, pressing into your touch. Your hands move down and across your skin. You run them over your favorite places to be touched, everywhere except where you want to be touched the most. You avoid it, waiting until your panties start to cling to you, excess moisture soaking into them. A finger runs over the seam of your lower lips. Another moan falls from your mouth, hips bucking up. 

You push down your panties, flinging them off once they hit your ankles. Your fingers slip between your folds. You’re slick, spreading it up and down, over and around your clit as need builds in your body. Another moan threatens to fall from your mouth, each one growing in volume. You bite down on the collar of Joel’s shirt. Another whiff of him overtakes you. Your cunt clenches as you finally slip a finger in and then a second. 

The house is dark when Joel gets back. He feels like a dick. He’d been distracted the whole time. He saw it the moment he spotted the two of you together- the resemblance. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, and even more when he couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole night. There’s nothing wrong with Tracy. She’s perfectly nice, but the bubble has popped. She’s not you. He won’t be seeing her again.

It doesn’t help that he knew he’d come home to a dark house. He knows you’re asleep in his bed right now in one of his shirts, and Lord help him, it kept him distracted all night. 

He’s quiet as he walks up the stairs so as to not wake you or the kids. He stares at his bedroom door, taunting him. You’re in there and he knows what you feel like sound asleep in his arms. You haven’t talked that night. In fact, you’ve acted like it never happened and he’s followed suit. He wonders if he could slip behind you now. If you would let him hold you. 

He lets out a long sigh, fighting with himself. He needs to slip in, grab a pair of sweats, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to pull himself out. He can sleep in his boxers, maybe find some sweats in the laundry. His hand drops from the door. 

He’s going to walk away. He’s not going to cross that line again. That’s his brother’s wife. The woman Tommy told him to take care of. He has to stop this. He can’t- and then he hears it. Soft and quiet at first. A soft gasp that hitches, like it got caught on something. 

He freezes. It’s probably nothing, a dream, his imagination. Then he hears it again, this time pitched lower, like it comes from a deeper place. He can’t discount that one. As much as his brain screams at him to go, run, his feet stay anchored to the floor. He’s desperate to hear it again, and he’s rewarded with another moan. 

They’re intentional. You’re doing that to yourself in his bed. He bites his lip, hand falling to the door frame to stabilize him. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be envisioning you spread out on his bed, toes curling against his sheets. The blood rushes straight to his cock and Joel knows he’s about to cross a line he can’t come back from. 

Another moan comes out of the room. He flips open the button of his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband stroking his already hard cock. Maybe it makes him a creep, but he’s never been more grateful for the thin walls in the house. 

Your noises of pleasure grow. Joel bites back his own, nails digging into the door frame. Precum leaks from the tip of his dick. He catches the way your moans grow more desperate as you take yourself closer. He works himself to the edge with you, wanting to hold off until you’re there. 

You’re so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers glide over your clit with ease, soaked with your slick. You’ve been pushing the images away the whole time, trying not to go there, but the closer you pull yourself to bliss, the harder it is to keep them at bay. Your eyes drift shut as you lean into the feeling, willing yourself over the edge. They flash in your mind, pictures of him over you, calloused hands running over your bare body, his deep baritone in your ear as he pulls you apart. The tension between your thighs breaks free. You don’t realize how loud you cry out, ears ringing with pleasure as his name effortlessly rolls off your lips. 

You lay there, still, chest heaving. Not Tommy’s name. Joel’s. 

Before you have time to comprehend what just happened, it breaks through the silence. A soft, bitten back moan on the other side of the door in a tone you can only recognize as his and the faint whispers of your name. Your eyes widen. Had he…? 

Your brain races with the possibilities as you lay bare, tshirt pushed above your breasts. He could walk in. You hadn’t locked the door. You could open the door to him, take his hand, invite him into his own bed. 

You cringe. When did you become this person? The one who lusts after another man while married? As much as you’re ashamed, you fight against the temptation. You want to give in. You want to be touched and desired again. You’d seen it in Joel’s eyes that night at the beach. He would give you what you needed. Before you can make a decision, you hear the steps creak. He’s walked away. 

You let out a deep breath, not sure if you’re disappointed or relieved. You roll over, burying your  head in Joel pillow, wrapping yourself in his comforter, cunt still slick and dripping. 

Lucky for Joel, he’s able to find clean sweats in the dryer and then starts the washer with his jeans and boxers, washing away all evidence of his sins. 

He settles on the couch with just the decorative pillow and throw blanket. It’s hot anyway so the blanket is quickly kicked to his feet. He can’t put it out of his mind. Any of it. You. 

He tries not to think about the sounds you made in his bed, the things you did. He tries not to think about you asleep in his arms, but with all things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do. 

Joel has accepted that he’s not a good man. His intentions with you are no longer pure, but self seeking. Yes, he cares for you and your well being, but he wants you. He needs you near him. He needs you to realize he’s been here through it all. That Tommy has done nothing to be worthy of you. Joel has spent more of your marriage being your husband than Tommy has. 

He clenches his fists. Anger surges through him. Joel doesn’t care if it makes him a bad person. If he had a way to go and turn back time, he would. He’d find a way to meet you before Tommy did. He would make you his. He would save you from the heartache of being Tommy’s wife. You would be his Mrs. Miller. 

Joel wishes he’d kissed you at the beach. He wanted to. God knows how badly he’d wanted to. It took every last ounce of self control not to. His stores are depleted. Between that and tonight, Joel has no more restraint to offer this situation. If you ever give him the chance again, he won’t hold back. He doesn’t care that you’re married to his brother. You deserve better. You deserve the world. Joel believes he can give it to you. 

You both sleep better than you have in weeks. 

“I never understood back to school nights,” Joel grumbles, stuffing a store bought chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and washing it down with cheap faculty room coffee. “Want some?”

“You know I don’t drink caffeine after two.” 

Joel shrugs, taking another sip. “It’s not that good anyway.” 

You roll your eyes. “What about back to school nights makes you grumpy? It’s a chance for Sarah to see where she’ll spend most of her time for the next nine months.”

“Then where is she?” Joel raises an eyebrow. “Out on the playground because it only takes 5 seconds to see the classroom and she’d rather play with her friends.”

“You’re a grump.”

“Yeah, a grump who’d rather be watching the game.” 

You roll your eyes, swatting his shoulder. “Have you at least talked to her teacher yet?”

He grimaces. “Haven’t worked up the courage yet.”

It isn’t that Joel doesn’t want to know the person responsible for educating his child. It’s the fact that Sarah has a knack for ending up with the young, single teachers as her educators, ones who seem very interested in her father as more than a parent. He’d been granted reprieve last year, but you’d caught the visible shudder in his frame the moment he’d laid eyes on Sarah’s teacher for the year, young and not a ring on her left hand in sight. 

“Stop judging a book by its cover. You’re a grown up.”

“Fine.” He sets down his coffee with determination. “Let’s go.” His hand finds your waist as he propels you both toward the teacher. 

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows knit together. You have a sneaking suspicion you know what he’s playing at. 

“We’re going to meet Sarah’s teacher.” He shrugs, but a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Mrs. Miller.”

Your stomach does little flips. You’ve been mistaken for his Mrs. Miller more times than you can count at this point. You’ve attended Sarah’s parent teacher conferences when Joel got held up at a job sight, letting the teachers assume whatever they wanted. You are Mrs. Miller after all. But you’ve never done anything like this, not alongside him.  

He introduces himself and you to Miss Holly as he tugs you in closer to his right side. Your left arm instinctively wraps around his middle and you see the moment she watches the glint of your engagement and wedding ring under the fluorescent lights. 

It’s hardly the first time you’ve been mistaken for Joel Miller’s wife, but it is the first time he’s played into the assumption on purpose, with confidence. It’s the first time you let your mind forget it’s not true, even for just a few seconds, playing a part that doesn’t feel like playing at all. Joel lets his southern charm show now, protected by the guise of you as his bride. Before you know it, it feels too natural. Joel’s hand falls a bit, grasping your hip, tugging you closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You think maybe it is.  

Joel leads the conversation. You’re too caught up in the feel of his hand on your hip and the breathing of his chest under your palm. The night you almost kissed, the night you crawled into his bed and he held you through some of the best sleep you’ve gotten in years flashes in your mind. You think back to just last week, his name on your lips, that strangled, soft moan, and your own name you swear you heard. 

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” Sarah’s teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts. 

Joel offers his own goodbyes and you echo them, still fighting the haze inside your own mind. You wonder if there’s a world where this is your life, one where you and Joel aren’t playing make believe. One where you crawl in bed beside him every night instead of your empty bed. It’s an awful thought. Your husband gets released from prison in a few weeks. These thoughts will be gone by then. They have to be.

It was one night of indiscretion, two at the most, and you never actually did anything. You didn’t know Joel was on the other side of that door. Tommy doesn’t need to know. By his own admission, he’s actually crossed those boundaries. He’s broken your wedding vows. You glance at Joel’s profile as he leads you out of the classroom, a proud smirk on his face. The bastard enjoyed that way too much. 

When you make it to the hall, his fingers lace through yours. Is he forgetting too? Giving himself a moment to linger in the unspoken what ifs that seem to crowd around you these days. 

He drops your hand once you’re outside in view of the playground. He waves Sarah over, but you stay a couple steps behind, deep in thought until someone calls your name. Your head snaps in their direction. Julia and Micky Hall stand before you. Your eyes widen in recognition. Micky was one of Tommy’s Army buddies. They’d moved to Dallas after the group came back from their deployment. 

“Hi,” the words fall from your mouth in shock. “I didn’t know y’all were back in Austin.” Your feet carry you toward the couple. 

“Just moved back last month,” Julia says as you move to hug her and then Micky. “We’ve been meaning to call.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just good to see you both.” The smile across your face is genuine as you talk to your friends. You’d grown apart since their move. Other than Joel, Julia had been your closest friend during Tommy’s deployment. “How have you been? The boys?”

“Starting first grade,” Julia grins, pointing to her twin boys on the playground.

Your eyes catch them, running around. “They’ve grown so much.”

“How’s Nathaniel?” Julia asks.

“Good, growing like a weed as I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“Too familiar,” Julia laughs. 

“Nathaniel isn’t going into Kindergarten, is he?” Micky asks.

“Next year. I came for Sarah’s back to school night. Joel’s daughter.” You point to where Sarah is just rushing over to her father. You feel the ghost of Joel’s touch when you utter his name. “We’ve been helping each other out a lot with everything.”

The couple nods, an awkward silence forming between you as if they don’t want to address the elephant in the room. The heat has let up a little bit as the sun begins to dip behind the trees. 

“I’ve written to Tommy a couple of times,” Micky says, hands tucked into his front pockets. “Haven’t heard back much.”

You force a nod, feeling the tension grow in your limbs. “I haven’t been able to get much from him.” 

You catch the way both their eyes widen. They were there the night you and Tommy met. They’d seen the way you fell, both of you. How inseparable your bond is, or was. 

“Shit,” Micky says, running a hand over his face. “How are you holding up?”

“Not sure I am most days. Joel’s been a big help to us.” It feels like you’re concealing the whole truth. Joel’s been the crutch keeping you going most days. Julia’s brow furrows with concern.

Micky nods. “I’d like to go see him if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Maybe you can get through to him.”

“And we should get the kids together,” Julia adds. “Catch up ourselves.”

“That would be nice,” you smile at her as you catch Joel and Sarah waiting by the truck, laughing about something. “I should go, but you should call. Number’s still the same.”

“I’ll use it.” Julia smiles as you wave at both of them before crossing the parking lot with a weird feeling in your gut.  

Seeing Julia and Micky was nice. It brought back a lot of good memories. The four of you. It’s another reminder of how lonely the last years have been. How much you’ve depended on Joel. How much he’s been there. 

As you join Joel and Sarah at the truck, Sarah catches you up on all her friend’s summer vacations and updates, mouth moving a million miles a minute. She doesn’t stop as you climb in or for the click of your seat belt. You stay quiet, watching Austin wiz by out the passenger side window. 

When Joel pulls into your driveway, you let out a sigh staring at the door. He leans over the center console, keeping his voice low.  “You okay, Darlin? You’ve been quiet since we left.”

“Just tired. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.” You fling the door of the pick up open. 

“Darlin?”

You bristle, smoothing out your skirt as you turn to face him. His brows knit together. “I’m fine, Joel.”

“You’re coming over tomorrow, right Aunt Bonnie?”

“Of course, Sarah Bear.” You blow her a kiss, shutting the door before Joel can protest. He makes sure you’re inside before pulling out of the driveway. 

Nathaniel is already asleep thanks to an afternoon at the playground and the magic your sitter works. You pay her extra tonight. You’ve never been more thankful to come home to a sleeping child, too distracted by the run in with your friends and Joel’s hot hands on you, the way he held you as if to tell the world to back off, you’re his. 

You pull the bottle of Tequila out of the cabinet. You’re tempted to pull straight from the bottle but you pour a finger or so into a glass instead. Your mother raised you better than that. She also raised you better than to pine after your brother in law. 

You throw back the whole glass. The cheap liquor burns your throat. You ran out of the good stuff last week with Joel and hadn’t made it to the liquor store yet. Joel had drunk you under the table, your tolerance not what it used to be. Not that you had ever been able to keep up with him. You fill the glass with another finger and toss it back. You can’t think about Joel. Can’t think about the way your wedding bands burn against your skin as if they are punishing you for tonight, for last week, for Father’s Day and for everything else. 

You pour more tequila into the cup, but you add ice and margarita mixer this time, knowing the first two shots will catch up to you soon enough. You fall onto the couch with a sigh. Three weeks. Just three weeks and Tommy will be back. You won’t see Joel everyday. Your husband will take care of you, satisfy you. That’s all this is. The deprivation of the last two and a half years. You can make it three more weeks. 

You try to reason it away. It makes sense. You and Joel have been so close in all this. He’s been your partner, not your husband, but partner. He’s an attractive man, thoughts were bound to pop up, lines were bound to get blurry, but all will correct itself when Tommy’s home. Yes, it all makes perfect sense. 

You take a sip of the margarita. Condensation trickles down your hand and ice rattles in the glass. Even as the numbness of the tequila shots begins to take over your body, the reassurances feel weak. 

Even if you can’t admit it, something has shifted. You and Joel are playing with fire. 

Three more weeks you push. Tommy will be home. You’ll have Your Tommy back. 

But you can’t erase the last two and a half years. Tonight, with the ghost of his hands on your body, you remember all the ways Joel has been there for you over these past years, filling in the gaping caverns Tommy left.   

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love

@justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours

@duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75

@millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw @tulips2715 @leggtostandon

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @lotusbxtch @ravenn-darkholme

[between-the-realms]

The Will of a Phrophet

@scarred-by-monsters

Lucinda had been born with the gift to see snippets of the future, or at least that's what the Church and the elves believed. She didn't believe it was magic, she had seen what magic really looked like. No, she believed that her skill was simple able to predict various outcomes, not see the future.

So, while her brother was off with the crusaders doing who knows what, Lucinda was forced into the role of the churches prophet. Becoming like an advisor to the priests and the arch bishop. This came with a sizable amount of income, a nice house... but she was taken away from her family farm. She only assumed it was left to rot. Although her life was basically taken care of... the woman was constantly watched, hy the priests and bishops. The arch bishop she was forced to spend days with... sometimes forced to spend nights with. And although she wasn't against the faith, she knew she was trapped in this situation.

Recently though, she tried to resist in small ways. This most recent time, when they wanted her to spend even more time within the church walls, she complained that she didn't have the time if she was to also keep the nice house the church provided clean and orderly. A few days later they brought her into the church, and had a line of male slaves lined up for her. She frowned a bit at the sight but the priest that held Lucinda's soldiers asked, "you said you needed help with housework? Well, pick the one you like the most, and he shall help you with whatever you desire. Be that house work, yard work, going through documents, or even to help you with your intimacy needs."

Lucinda started to cringe, "How... thoughtful of you all." She said before sighing. At the very least, with this, she could make a plan to let this slave go free. She stepped forward, looking at the men, before choosing one near the middle, "this one."

[missszena]

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this since last night. I need to say something about it.

Last evening, at the time of writing this, I was almost killed in a high speed collision on the highway because of my mom's Trump stickers.

I'm unfortunately stuck living in a conservative household due to the fact I'm too broke to afford my own place. I'm a college student surviving off of cheap fast food and forced to hide most of my true beliefs and play along because if I don't then I'll be out on the streets. The one time I voiced my pro-palestine support I was cornered by my mom in my room who wouldn't leave me alone, shaming me and basically implying my jewish ancestors who fled from Poland to the US during the holocaust would be ashamed of me, and when I literally had to shove her out of my room to get her to leave me alone I overheard my grandmother downstairs implying I should be thrown out.

If I don't keep my head down and pretend I'm at least neutral on their conservative ideals I will lose my housing. I won't be able to afford my guinea pig's food and bedding or have a place to keep him. I won't be able to finish college since I wouldn't have steady internet.

Last night, two people followed my mother's car from the city on our drive home from a traveling museum exhibit while making various gestures and yelling their disapproval of Trump (though I couldn't hear it through the car windows I could see it). At first they were just being mildly irritating, preventing my mom from changing lanes by trapping her behind a slower car, and I was about to convince her to leave them alone since they weren't doing any harm.

That was until they attempted to run her off the highway.

They sped ahead of us right into the middle of the road then slammed on the breaks, giving her either the split second window to also hit the breaks or either swerve off the highway/into the slower driver, or collide with them if she wasn't fast enough. Thank every fucking god in the universe she was quick enough to hit the breaks and just barely miss running right into them at over 70 miles an hour.

I could have fucking died because these two people assumed I was also a Trump supporter.

I, a queer person unable to leave a conservative household, could have fucking DIED because I can't get away from my Trumpie family members and they're my only housing (my dad spends most his time out of state).

Please for the love of fucking gods do NOT assume someone's beliefs based on the people they're with. You don't know if that kid with the parent wearing a MAGA hat is someone genuinely being brainwashed into conservative ideals or is stuck in a household they can't get out of. You don't know if that teenager being dragged along to evangelical churches or brought to Trump rallies is there of their own free will or if they just have no choice in going. You don't know if that young adult in the car covered in republican stickers actually supports those ideals or if they're struggling to afford to survive and have no other choice but to put up with conservative bullshit to not end up homeless.

If something goes wrong, like it almost did that day, you could have very well hurt a closeted queer kid, a struggling ally, or turned a potential ally away from you by threatening their life and safety which gives their conservative friends or family "evidence" to point at and say LOOK AREN'T THE LEFT SO AWFUL??? AREN'T THESE PEOPLE THE WORST??? THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO US!!!

This is in no way me saying I support conservatives. I don't. But I support people who can't get away from them either due to their age or the fact its fucking impossible to buy your own house these days even if you aren't also trying to get through college.

Please don't make those assumptions. Please don't let them motivate you to almost seriously harm or nearly kill someone. You don't know who's in the passenger seat.

[xluciferseyeshadowx]

OMG TUMBLR

y’all, istg I was just eating Honey Nut Cheerios when an idea for a book slapped me in the face holy shit-

So first, I remember a twitter quote. The quote was something about how life sucks now because eve ate that GODAMN apple in the garden of Eden and humans were meant to chill and eat fruit all day with our tits out and stuff. AND THEN I THOUGHT-HOLY SHIT. WHAT IF I WROTE A BOOK WHERE EVE NEVER ATE THE APPLE AND HUMANS STILL LIVED IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN- NAKED, EATING FRUIT, WITH NO TECHNOLOGY? AND WHAT IF IT WAS ACTUALLY CORRUPT? As somebody who has been going to church for years, I can say with confidence that the Bible is fucked. Women are seen as men’s property. People who are not Christian are shunned. There is lots of religious trauma vibes. So what if the morals like that from the Bible were still accurate and in this book? So I came up with some characters. Mary- she would be one of the main characters. She listens to her parents, and genuinely wants to please them. Her life is planned out for her and shit, because she does not know that life could be any other way from outside the garden. Until- because of the sexist nature of The garden of Eden- she is assaulted and starts believing that she wants something else.

Leah- the second MC. She would be very averse to the idea of being married, and often try to disobey her parents and fuck up her appearance to avoid being found attractive. She has always disliked life in the garden, and Mary being assaulted is the final straw. Beezle: He would be my portrayal of the Devil. Or satan, or whatever you want to call the snake that was in the adam & eve story. He would live near Eden, and he would turn from a snake into a human & spend most of his time tempting people into leaving the garden- rarely succeeding. He finds Mary after her assault and is like “I can totally manipulate this”, but after befriending her and Leah, they end up trying to get out of the garden, along with some others together.

Okay, so those are the main character I came up with. Here is some world building: The garden would be basically how they wrote it in the Bible, if it progressed past eve eating the apple. However, to avoid incest, multiple different families were made by god. They did not all stem from Adam and Eve. Because the garden is how it is in the Bible, it pretty easy to get the concept- mostly vegetarian diet, no clothing, living in harmony with animals and shit. Seems perfect right? WRONG. Because of the inherent religious pushing and being forced into family, there are strict rules that make little to no sense constricting the residents of the garden, especially women. For example: There is heavy influence of the Christian religion on everything, to a pathological degree. Sexual pleasure for women is looked down upon, and will even be punished. Obeying the Ten Commandments is the only real principles, leading to many loopholes and other crimes. Adam and Eve would be the leaders of the garden, controlling most of what goes on within it. They knew Beezle, and have spun the story to say that he was trying to ruin paradise for them by offering the apple. Heaven was actually trying to break free of god’s will. The main story plot would be Mary, Leah and Beezle trying to find a way to leave Eden, but ending up with them trying to help the others out.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Question. Didn’t Lestat have money in the first book? Cuz anne made him seem a bit poor in the first book

Louis said he didn’t. But then... Louis didn’t leave one good hair on Lestat….

He appeared frail and stupid to me, a man made of dried twigs with a thin, carping voice.

For example. 😅

I think Louis more or less surmised it at the beginning, because Lestat took the money from their victims, and because he started to furnish the plantation:

‘That’s mortal nonsense,’ he would say to me, while at the same time spending so much of my money to splendidly furnish Pointe du Lac, that even I, who cared nothing for the money, was forced to wince.

Louis takes it upon himself to invest their money, and grow their capital. He thinks he keeps Lestat dependent on him:

For all these years, I’d kept him dependent on me. Of course, he demanded his funds from me as if I were merely his banker, and thanked me with the most acrimonious words at his command; but he loathed his dependence.

(Note the tone implied when Lestat thanks him for money.)

Which is, like, very far from the truth, actually. And it is psychologically very interesting, indeed, especially for the show to hook into imho, but that just as a side note.

This very hard, harsh depiction of Lestat lasts into the second half of the book and then the longing breaks through, obviously impossible to contain:

A sickness rose in me more wretched than anguish when I saw what my dreams were doing. I wanted him alive! In the dark nights of eastern Europe, Lestat was the only vampire I’d found. I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a many-colored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective surface conveyed the power to walk on water. “What would Christ need have done to make me follow Him like Matthew or Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered yellow hair.

But that just as a reminder that Louis changes his own stance on certain things even within the story...

Now for the money itself.

In regards to Lestat and money / status Anne set down some interesting basics already, very early in the book - because when Lestat cares still for his father this is a scene:

Don’t I take care of you in baronial splendor!’ Lestat would shout at him.

Don’t I provide for your every want! Stop whining to me about going to church or old friends! Such nonsense. Your old friends are dead. Why don’t you die and leave me and my bankroll in peace!’

There's two very interesting hints in there. For one we know that Lestat was the son of a Maquis, so that man is the Maquis. The "barionial splendor" is a direct hint to their previous lifestyle and the fact that Lestat took care of his father (and his family) then, too.

And then, of course, there's "leave me and my bankroll in peace". This quote is from a part very early in the book. Which makes it clear Lestat did have money at his disposal. How much exactly is not said, but as said before Louis thinks Lestat is after his plantation because... honestly, he cannot, for a long time, fathom why Lestat would be after him. He cannot understand that Lestat fell in love with him immediately. He cannot believe that Lestat loves him, like that, and has gone full in.

That just doesn't compute for Louis... for a long, long time.

Arguably, I think that is the same in the show.

And, I've said it before, that is a very scary concept, too, so I can understand why Louis had such a hard time accepting.

Someone as beautiful, powerful, capricious, difficult and vivacious as Lestat being totally gone on you... yeah. That is a scary concept.

[estherwestfall]

Esther at a glance

"Sometimes God breaks your heart to save your soul"

BIOGRAPHY

NAME: Esther Constance Westfall

AGE: 29 [Born July 8th]

OCCUPATION: Stock Worker at O'Connor's Outdoors

ARRIVED: Resident, never left

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Non-binary; they/them (but isn't bothered if someone uses she/her)

SEXUALITY: Pansexual, but hates most people

QUIRKS: Is extremely quiet and reserved, unless you piss them off. Tries to avoid all small talk if they can. Dresses like they rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever was on the floor, which is probably what happened. When they're not at the church they spends most of their free time watching movies, catching up on what they were not allowed to experience growing up.

Esther never considered themself lonely growing up. Through their family's religious expectations they were a caregiver, a homemaker, and their life centered around caring for their little brother Gabriel. They didn't need friends, or anyone else in this Godless town, so long as they had their baby brother. Their parents were harsh, but fair...though maybe sometimes too harsh. It was the two of them against the world.

As teens, Esther tried to keep their brother away from those Heathens. Knew he was better than all of them, that they only wanted to hurt him. They tried to warn him to not go to that party, and they wish they had pushed harder, forced him to stay. Gabriel wasn't the same after that. He wasn't their little brother anymore.

Esther tried. They really did. How was it so hard for him to understand that he was Gabriel? Gabe? Their little brother? Clearly he wasn't dead. He was right in front of them, breathing. Why couldn't he get it through his thick skull? Why was he refusing to listen to reason? All the screaming, all the fights, Esther began to think he just wanted attention. That the party turned bad and he couldn't accept that they were right.

A large portion of the responsibility to take care of Gabriel after his "incident" fell on Esther. The stress, the frustrations pilled up quickly. They ended up hurting Gabriel just as much as he hurt them, emotionally, physically. Resentment began to fester.

When their parents died, Esther knew Gabriel did it on purpose. He committed the ultimate sin. He killed them. Between this and the growing difficulty of taking care of their selfish brother that just refused to grow up and stop playing his stupid joke, they eventually snapped. They had enough. Esther kicked Gabriel out of the house, denouncing him as their brother. If he wanted to tell everyone he was dead then fine. He was dead to them. They had no brother.

For a year they holed themself up in their family home. Barely refusing to leave except for food and basic necessities. Esther had no one and that was fine. They didn't need anyone. Still, after a year, even they could admit that shutting everything out wasn't the answer.

Slowly, Esther began to reintegrate back into town. At only 19, they didn't really know what to do with their life. The outdoor shop was hiring, and the job seemed easy enough. When they saw other people going into the local church, they hesitated. The only thing that kept them strong over the last year was their faith, and even that felt broken, wavering. Their parents always hated on the local religious communities, and Esther embraced that dogma, but they couldn't go to their old church. They had nowhere else to go.

The person who stood in front of the congregation was bizarre, went against everything their faith and parents bore into them, and yet Esther was entranced. It wasn't love, it would never be love. But something about the priest called to them, made them feel like maybe there was still something in this God forsaken town to hold on to.

In time, Esther began to deconstruct the dogma forced into them, but still, outside of the church they were very much alone. Seeing Gabriel in town, thriving, hurt. It only further proved that he had been lying, pretending to be someone he wasn't. Hurt their bond for no reason other than because he could. Hatred brewed in their heart.

Their relationship with the priest was one that was difficult to label. Companionship maybe. Not quite friendship but not nothing either. They slept together often, even talked, though never of each other's past for varying reasons. They were not lovers, and Esther was fine with that, preferred it even. Why would anyone love them? The only person that ever claimed to love them lied and hurt them deeper than anything their parents could have ever done. Absinthe was a distraction, a means to not be so alone anymore.

It wasn't long before Esther found out they were pregnant. They shook and sobbed at the little plus sign on the test, wondering why God would be so cruel to them. They knew they could not, should not ever be a mother. They could not take care of their brother, their love wasn't enough for him, so how could it ever be enough for a child? Desperate, they consulted the library and asked around town. It lead her to the town's treasured Buttons. They had never interacted before that day, yet the older woman's demeanor was cold, off. Esther didn't care. They only wanted help. They prayed the teas would do as were promised.

Their prayers were answered, and unless anyone read too deeply about their questioning, their purchased pregnancy test, only O'Grady knew their little secret. And that was for the best. No one needed to know. To know that they were a failure. That they were raised to be a caregiver and mother, and deep down Esther knew they was too broken to ever be that. That that was never something in their future.

After that day, they turned to pills to help numb themself. Anything they could get her hands on, so long as Esther could get out of their head. They continued to crumble, while Gabriel was happy and healthy and it was unfair. It was so unfair.

[hdjinam]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 ? no one new here, it’s just 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋 back with a third muse ! i’m continuously inspired by this space, & by all of you, & couldn’t help myself ! my new creation’s name is 𝐑𝐎𝐇 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐌, & he’s from the hustle & bustle of seoul ;; the songpa district, to be more specific ! he entered the world on 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑𝟎𝟕𝟏𝟖, making him an emotional ( mess ) & nurturing cancer sun, as well as 𝟏𝟗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃. in april of 2021, he was officially signed to 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒, & hopes to one day début in a boy group as a vocalist, songwriter, & maybe even a visual, he doesn’t know, but he’s been around for the last few years & has been having a really good time. below the cut is a brief rundown of him, & if you’re interested in plotting with us, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ! ♡♡

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒. death tw.

———   jinam is the unfortunate victim of his environment in many ways. his parents are business & academic oriented, as well as religious, & while they tried their best to instill their values, morals, & work ethic into him, he fought them every step of the way. he hated going to church, he hated participating in school, & it was clear from the time he learned to speak that he didn’t get along with his father — the pair of them being polar opposites in basically every fashion. his dad is rigid, commanding, forceful, & ( toxically ) masculine, & growing up, he had no idea how is own flesh & blood, his own son, could be so different from him. it filled him with a disappointment that he still grapples with, & jinam has spent his whole life wondering why being himself is so wrong ;; why his father won’t accept him for everything that makes him him. despite not having much of a relationship anymore, these thoughts are a burden that jinam lives with to this day, & it’s safe to say that he has quite a bit of ❛ daddy issues. ❜ i do not use this term lightly, & it will be elaborated on later in this introduction post.

———   his biggest safe place growing up was his maternal grandmother’s house. at least once per week, he would spend the night there, & she allowed him to blossom however felt natural to him. as a kid & teen, jinam had a lot of interests, all of which were located in the realm of art, performance, & creative literature. he adored painting, sketching, writing poems & short stories, as well as singing along to whatever music came on the radio — all of which his grandmother supported, nourished, & allowed in her household. in truth, he reminded her a lot of her late husband. he, too, had a knack for the arts, as well as a gentle personality that many claimed was overly ❛ feminine, ❜ but that never stopped him from expressing who he was, authentically. when jinam was born & became his own person, the resemblances were uncanny — not only in spirit, but also in visuals — & she wanted him to know that he was just fine as is, no matter what his dad told him. her home, & her presence, were the only things that made him feel seen.

———   unfortunately, he wasn’t only bullied at home, but also in school. because of this, he kept to himself for the most part. he wasn’t entirely friendless, thankfully, & he cherishes the friends he made back then more than anything ;; considers a lot of them his chosen family — particularly those who are also queer, or the ❛ black sheep ❜ of their families. note: it goes without saying, that these are all possible connections up for grabs if your muse is from, or lived in, seoul, & is near the same age as jinam. anyway, in school, he was made to focus mostly on academics & keeping his grades up, but he also had quite the rebellious streak — one that drove both of his parents bonkers. whether it was ditching class, sneaking out to meet up with his friends, or skipping church as a protest, it caused problems for him. his home life was chaotic because of it, but he always had his grandmother. that never faded or changed, & one day, with her help covering for him, he ditched school with his friends to audition for hydra labels. it was done mostly on a whim, & two of their group of four were luckily cast ;; him being one of them, as well as a newer pal to him.

———   his involvement in the company wasn’t supported by his father, but at that point, he had all but stopped caring for whatever jinam was going to do with his life. allowing him to train at an entertainment company meant jinam was no longer his dad’s ❛ problem, ❜ so he remained silent — so much so that he & jinam haven’t spoken to this day. it’s bittersweet for him, but he remained focused on his training — opening up like a flower now that he’s quite literally surrounded by the arts. at hydra labels, he’s learned how to be a better singer, & songwriter, & how to feel more confident in himself in a variety of ways, & while it’s tiring & not fun all of the time, he wouldn’t change the experience for the world. however, that said, he’s prone to a variety of distractions. coming into his own, especially with age, has him focusing a lot on his love life, particularly the guys around him ;; the guys who are so tempting in all the wrong ways ;; the guys who seem to fill the void.

———   it’s been a wild two years, & throughout it, he’s written a lot of music, & has never felt so free, but just as he began finding his footing in life, he suffered the greatest loss he’ll ever face. ( death tw ) in the middle of the year 2022, his grandmother passed, & his heart has been broken ever since. grief is a hard cycle to break, & while he’s done his best to pick up the pieces & move forward, he can’t help but feel lost. he wears jewelry of her’s every single day, & writes to her in a journal she gave him whenever he’s feeling blue. though, in her will, she left him her home ;; stating she wanted for him to still have a place where he felt safe, where he could be himself. it’s created a stir in the family, but he’s unbothered by it. whenever he’s not at the company & has free time, he spends it there — maintaining it as best he can, & feeling her energy.

———   nowadays, he’s been doing his best to début, especially since it’s his two year anniversary with the company. he’s writing a lot, singing a lot, dating a lot, & doing his best to make his dream come true. he’s still hurting in ways, but he’s realizing that the hurt he feels will likely never go away, so he’s learning to live with it.

𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.

to find out a little more about his personality, click here ! i’m so excited to write him out & develop him more in this space, & he’s open to any & all types of plots. i value complex & deep connections, as well brainstorming something fresh for each interaction, but i’m just as happy to look through any wc’s you might have ! thanks for reading if you did. you’re the best ! ♡♡

[trickstercaptain]

HEADCANON: jack + crimbo

        i get to enjoy the prospect of soft Christmas hcs and such with my other muses but then i get to Jack and it’s just. this man does not care about Christmas in any way whatsoever. in his default modern verse, it is just another day of the year to him, he has to be around people who care about it in order to actually start caring about it himself. otherwise he probably doesn’t even bother with a Christmas tree or presents and would attempt to leave the country so that he wasn’t forced to attend the annual Teague family dinner, which is the most horrific of all of the family traditions that have survived this long into Jack’s adult life

        but it wasn’t always like that! the first seven years of Jack’s life were relatively normal so far as Christmas goes, all thanks to his mother. even though they travelled a lot as a family and rarely stayed in one place, there was a Christmas tree, there were presents from Santa, and some of those Christmases survive in Jack’s mind to the present and form some of his happiest childhood memories. however, like a lot of things, this all stopped after Maria’s death. Teague wouldn’t bother continuing with a lot of the traditions that they’d had up until this point, and so Christmas simply became a time of dread because it always meant spending time with the extended family, including his grandmother who is the source of so much nightmare fuel for Jack that he had to repress a lot of his memories of her.

        they would go to church, they would awkwardly exchange presents with one another, they would eat an even more awkward Christmas meal together, and so the holidays were no longer a source of joy but a toxic pressure cooker environment where it would seem like things would kick off at any moment ( and often did ). terrible for smol Jack’s mental health, basically.

        Jack was stuck in this for most of his adolescence until he moved out into a place of his own ( and, later, had to flee the country ), and Christmas up until that point had been so miserable that Jack just stopped caring about it. he wouldn’t bother to celebrate and would just treat it like any other day. he can learn to enjoy it again once he gets his found family or, later in life in verses where he gets to actually have a family ( and you bet he would go all in on establishing new and happy Christmas traditions for any of his children as another means of breaking the cycle of what he went through ), but in the process he has to unlearn all of the toxic associations with the holidays that he built up during his later childhood and adolescence. he can enjoy it though when spent with the people he loves and the family that he chooses, as opposed to the unfortunate, dysfunctional one that he was given at birth.

[gavehell]

〈 danielle campbell  ›  cis female  ›  she/her  ›  19 〉  ———   a grand welcome to the vieux carré, DAVINA CLAIRE. with a city as diverse as this, there’s a new threat on almost every corner. being a HARVEST WITCH might provide some protection but their biggest strength may come from being loyal to MARCEL'S ARMY. many see them as a SOLIDER which is why THE QUESTION IS WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU DO WITHOUT ME? seems to fit them perfectly. whispers say they’re from the PAST. can it all be believed? just keep an eye on them and see if their true colors shine through.

݀ basics …

full name: davina marie claire. titles/nicknames: d, little witch, super witch. gender: cis - female. pronouns: she/her. date of birth: february 23rd. zodiac: pisces. species: witch. coven: the french quarter coven, a harvest witch. occupation: unemployed, former student. birthplace/current residence: new orleans, louisiana. sexuality: hetrosexual, demiromantic. affiliations: marcel's army; severed ties with the nine covens of new orleans after the failed harvest ritual. religion: pagan with catholic rituals. spoken languages: english, latin, french, louisiana creole, louisiana french.

݀ family and relations …

mother: anne - marie claire, deceased. father: unknown, he left her mother before davina was born. siblings: none, davina is an only child. other relations: marcel gerald, father figure. davina looks to marcel as both a father and friend after he saved her from the harvest ritual. she vowed loyalty to him and his cause and would do anything to keep him safe. significant other(s): single. timeline dependant includes: tim coffery, boyfriend - deceased : *killed by klaus mikaelson. kol mikaelson, future husband. although she is unaware of such a thing in the current timeline. friends: monique deveraux, cassie, abigial, all formerly. tim coffery, josh rosza, camille o'connell. pets: american chinchilla, bach.

݀ skills and interests …

education: high school graduate. dreamed of going to college before the harvest ritual forced an ugly truth to come to life. now she stays hidden, tucked away in the attic of st. anne's church and guarded by marcel gerald. weaknesses: ptsd, depression, generalized and social anxiety, the typical weaknesses of a witch and human. phobias: thanatophobia — the extreme fear of death or the dying process, claustrophobia — fear of confined spaces. moral alignment: chaotic good. element: fire. mbti: esfj — the consul. positive: loyal, caring, sympathetic, confident, independent, resilient — a "fighter", determined, intelligent, ambitious. negative: hot - tempered, vengeful, stubborn, moody, impulsive, possessive, secretive, manipulative, sarcastic, too concerned with what others think. likes: classical and jazz music, animals, consuming and making art, reading, new orleans, playing piano, learning new things, spending time with loved ones. dislikes: lies, disloyalty, thunderstorms, large bodies of water, the "old ones" — mikaelson family, the french quarter witches.

݀ physically …

eye color: blue. hair color: brown. hair type: long, loose and wavy. often worn in various styles, but more typically found hanging loose and brushed to the side. height: 5'3", flatfooted, but usually found wearing heels. build/type: slim and petite. dominant hand: right. tattoos: small poppy tattoo on upper, inner left arm. (ref) piercings: classic earlobe piercing. scars/marks: a few on her legs, most notably around her knees. a few on her hands and arms. nothing of major significance. a small to medium - sized birthmark on the back of her right thigh. typically unseen. typical attire/style: davina's original style can best be described as classically feminine and traditional. before the harvest ritual, she was often seen wearing white or pale - colored dresses with lots of lace, gems, or distinct patterns and stripes. after being taken in by marcel and free of her mother and coven's influence, her style shifts, taking on more color and bolder patterns as she begins to find herself. dresses become rare in favor of jeans, flats are traded for heels and boots, and light makeup is added. her most notable colors are browns, bright reds, deep pinks, purples, blacks, and grays.

݀ additional notes …

[trigger warning: the following notes contain mentions of graphic violence and death as shown in davina's story. please proceed with caution.]

davina grew up in the french quarter with a single, controlling mother after her father abandoned them long before davina was born. although strict, davina lived a relatively normal and happy life.

she was brought up in touch with her magical heritage and encouraged to practice. she did so hoping that one day she would be one of the chosen few — a select group of young girls, the harvest girls, who take part in a traditional ceremony and strengthen the connection between the living witches of new orleans and their deceased ancestors from whom they draw their magical power.

davina was eventually selected as one of four harvest girls and put through extensive training and preparation for the ritual, believing she would help lead their coven to greater power and blessing. however, on the day of reaping, davina and the other girls soon discovered they had been deceived by the elders regarding their fates and the actual events surrounding the ritual.

what had been promised would only be cut on their palms for a blood sacrifice that would put them each into a peaceful slumber was actually a ritualistic sacrifice by way of throat slitting. an action that would end their lives.

davina was the last girl to be sacrificed. her own mother standing idly, turning her nose up as her only daughter cried out and begged for her life. before davina could be offered up to the reaping, however, marcel gerald and his army of vampires showed up and intervened. they stopped the ritual, saving davina's life and killing the majority of the witches in attendance, including davina's mother.

marcel then took davina in as his own, tucking her away in the attic of st. anne's church is where she would be safe and hidden from the witches who hoped to find and kill her to finish the ceremony. in turn, davina grew fiercely loyal to marcel and soon began to view him as a father figure. now she uses her power to keep the witches in subjugation on marcel's behalf out of punishment for what they did to her and the other harvest girls. there is little she would not do for him.

when the mikaelson family returns to new orleans, davina is quick to aid marcel with any and everything he needs to face them. she regards them as the "old ones" and views them as true monsters she wants little to do with, largely due in part to her connection and loyalty to marcel.

although loyal, davina still struggles with being told what to do. after eight months spent housed inside the attic of the church, she has grown restless, temperamental, and, at times, violent. she longs for freedom, although she understands why marcel keeps her locked away, and dreams of the day she will be able to live a relatively normal life again without having to look over her shoulder in fear of the witches.

due to being the last girl to be sacrificed during the harvest, the power of the three witches before her was transferred to davina. upon her death, that magic, along with her own, was meant to be transferred back into the earth as an offering. however, because she did not die, davina remains the sole keeper of all the power. this makes her incredibly powerful as a harvest witch, capable of going toe - to - toe with some of the fiercest in town.

this power, however, is not without consequences. as one person was never meant to contain that much power, davina is losing more and more control daily. this affects her moods, her stability, and even her health.

due to her reclusive status and marcel's preference for keeping her safely withdrawn from things, davina is mostly unaware of the current state of things. she's heard whispers, seen the tension in marcel's face, she can even sense the shift thanks to her powers. she knows something is coming, and that new orleans is changing. but as it stands, she's yet to realize what is happening with the hellmouth or what lies before them.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Hai Elsieee! How are you? Im doing great at the moment.

Saw that requests are back open! Could you do Heavy, Engie and Sniper where they spend the holidays? Just some headcanons on what they would do with their s/o on holidays!

(Add NSFW in the end of the day doe 👀)

Heavy, Engineer, Sniper and their Holiday Habits

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: like, none?]

[AN: Just want the holiday themed requests done before the day is out.]

Heavy

He's back in a pretty Slavic/eastern European dominated region of the United States, a suburb, with his mother and all of his sisters. His mother, after the events of the comics were done, became a US citizen and immigrated to the US. Her daughters are still citizens of Russia (except for Zhanna who by marriage, became a citizen) but they're not planning on settling down any time soon. So, you and Mikhail go to his mother's home and hear their stories of their travels.

You guys do play family games together. It's always great fun because Mikhail's family basically adopts you with open arms. Jane is here too because of Zhanna, and yes, it's a lot of fun.

Mikhail's mother has guest rooms for all of her children that are staying, and you and him are no exception. She wishes the two of you a good night and you both stay up talking, having a lovely night.

Lots of baking,,, like, lots and lots of baking. His mother and sisters also teach you about their food! And you can teach them your family's traditions as well. Eventually, as the years go on, the traditions mix and become a really intimate, familial-wholesome thing.

I don't know how else to say this is a really traditional Christmas that's wholesome and his family includes you in literally everything. Whether you're more introverted or extroverted, used to happy families or coming out of rough backgrounds, they make you feel at home in whatever way makes you most comfortable. You're as much theirs as they are yours.

Engineer

Isn't,,,, Dell's father still alive? We'll say for the sake of this he is. You and Dell go back to Texas to spend time with his father on his ranch. Dell lost his mother a long time ago, but the memory of her is still very much alive.

You and Dell take care of a lot around the house! And you do spend some time cooking with Mr. Conagher. He's a fantastic chef, and you learn where Dell gets it from. He's so happy to have you as a child in law. He tells you a lot of stories about Dell when he was younger and much more of a trouble maker! You had no idea Dell had that in him.

It's really slow and sweet here. Leading up to Christmas/the Holidays is pretty gentle. There's lots of holiday movies, Christmas music. I think both Dell and his father are Christians and might want to go to church?? Mr. Conagher has returned back to his faith much more in his twilight years. If you're non-religious or of a different faith, don't worry! It's no problem for them and they won't force anything on you.

yeah cookies are gonna be made a lot. There's so many you'll be eating them well into the new year. You and Dell also decorate the ranch a bit! It's much more cheery.

Lots of naps. Like, lots and lots of naps. He works really hard when he's at Teufort, and his body is finally catching up on the sleep lmfao. Just lay on his chest and nap with him. It's really wholesome.

Sniper

If his parents were still here, the two of you are going back to Australia! Mundy's parents are so thrilled you're here, even if his father isn't really showing it. He's happy you're here, he's just kinda,,, bad at expressing his affection lmfao. His mother though?? Oh she is all over you. Loves having you around and wants to teach you EVERYTHING. Also it's a bit jarring to hear how much they both swear considering Mundy himself doesn't swear so blatantly??

You're invited to decorate this tree that they have. It's plastic, even though they'd like a real one - but Mr. Mundy ends up telling you stories about Mundy when he was a little ankle biter. He's smiling and laughing, reveling in his son's slight embarrassment. But you can tell how proud of him he is.

Lots of baking here too. You also spend a lot of time with Mrs. Mundy and help her around the farm. Lots of small chats over coffee with Mr. Mundy. It's pretty chill here as well. I feel you guys all go window shopping together. It's sweet.

Mundy isn't absolutely crazy about the holidays but he's happy to be with people he loves. It's a pretty relaxed Christmas. Music is played in the evenings, and the two of you star gaze a lot. Look, Mundy likes star gazing I don't know what else to tell you.

It's like Christmas/the Holidays without actually feeling like it's Christmas?? Like, it's pretty festive and fun but at the same time, lowkey. There's a really nice family dinner on actual Christmas and present opening in the morning. The gifts his folks get for you are bizarrely personal and sweet despite them barely knowing you except from what Mundy tells them?? If you give Mrs. Mundy any jewelry she's not going to stop wearing it lmfao. Mr. Mundy is just happy is son found a good one. Anyways, visit them in Australia often please-

[hadit93]

https://frater370.blogspot.com/2021/05/magical-approach-to-plant-materia.html

This is a short piece on how I go about selecting, procuring, and using plant materia in my own magic. I have posted it on my other blog as it may be easier to read. I will also post it below.

Magical Approach to Plant Materia.

Overview.

My approach to plants has been influenced by several sources, some of which I have listed at the end, however it is far simpler and less involved. This has its costs as well as its benefits. I know what works for me, I know what mythos I like to clothe my magick in, and I know what is personally important to me as well as what is not. Therefore, it may seem like my approach is at odds with that of other people, and it is, but it is not at odds with myself! Try my methods out alongside the methods of others, experiment, and see what works for you.

Dried or Fresh?

One of the questions that people usually ask first is whether dried ingredients- the ones you usually buy from metaphysical stores- are okay to use in magick. Yes, they are. But fresh is always best. The same is true in cooking as well as magick. Fresh herbs, especially those picked from nature by the magical worker, contain more spirit within them, more essence. They are also more potent in their latent power. Notice I say latent, in magick the magician can awake the same power in dried herbs and consecrate it to work in alignment with their Will. But fresh herbs will have more of this latent power in abundance.

Sometimes certain plant materia is rare, expensive, or simply cannot be found within your climate. In this case, I recommend first seeing if there could be a local alternative, and if not, buying dried from a reputable seller. Of course if one is making incense from plant materia dried is naturally better to begin with.

Preparation Before Going Out Into The Fields.

Before going out collecting herbs I like to align my Will with the universal Will and local spirits. So first I wash my hands and face. Then I will go to my altar and pray and state my intention out loud. For example, “I wish to venture out and gather herbs for the sacred work of x” I normally have an idea of what plants. I want, and so I list those too, however, sometimes nature surprises with you with great additional plants or alternatives. I then petition the spirits of the local area and offer some fresh water and incense that they may help me favourably.

I then pack my things. This includes:

A small sharp knife which is capable of cutting plants and small pieces of wood cleanly and with one stroke.

A small silk lined bag. (I bought some silk and stitched it to the inside of a small bag)

A bottle of fresh spring water.

A smartphone which has a map for safety as well as an internet connection which allows for identification of plants.

Collecting Plant Materia From The Fields.

Most of the time I see a plant I know and want to work with. Other times I find I am drawn to plants as though they are calling me. In this case, I get out my smartphone and get to work identifying the plant. I check if its poisonous and superficially check if it is suitable for my working. If it isn’t but seems useful for another working I make a note of its location and leave it for now. I will detail how I decide what plants are used for later.

Once we come to a plant I want to pick I kneel by it. I place my hand upon it or just over it and I communicate with intent, energy, and words what I want to do. That is, I ask its permission to be an ally in my work. I then wait for a response. This tends to be an inner feeling of rightness or wrongness, both of these feelings are unmistakeable. Other times the plant seemingly responds a certain way to the wind which causes these feelings to arise. It is truly a matter of intuition and cannot be taught human to human.

If an agreement is reached I offer the plant spirit water and then cut only what I need from the plant and place it in my silk bag. Do not let it touch the Earth as the spiritual powers may become grounded. I recommend you research beforehand how to cut from different types of plants for the least harm. I then take my finger, dab it in the spring water and rub the wound of the plant channeling an intent to heal. Once again offer a little water to the plant, and thank it for its sacrifice.

If an agreement is not reached, which does happen from time to time, give your thanks and offer a little water anyway. Either move to a different plant of the same species nearby, or search for an alternative altogether. It may be that despite a book stating one herb as brilliant for this use, the local nature spirits may have a better alternative for the working at hand. Either way, we must respect the plants decision.

Obviously, if you are collecting dried herbs you are simply purchasing them from a reputable vendor. Whilst we cannot offer the plant water and some spiritual power may have been lost due to contact to the ground, or because it is ‘less fresh’ we can still awaken the latent power within them. I hold the dried herbs in my hand and reach out to the parent plant or plants. I then give thanks and blow into the herbs with my own life force. This in turn awakens the life force within.

Consecration.

Prior to magical work I take the herbs and wash them under the tap and place them in jars. Each plant in their own. I then gather materials for my ritual. There are many ways you can use plants in magic. You can create magical incenses, tinctures, teas, charm bags, mojo bags, and magical oils. The idea behind most of these methods is that the herbs are consecrated to a purpose and work alongside other herbs and materials to form a sort of spiritual being, an ally to do the work.

If in a charm or mojo bag the spirit will have to be fed with energy or condition oils. The rule appears to be that if you make a charm out of degradable materials, i.e., fresh herbs that rot and dried herbs that lose potency over time you need to continue feeding so that the spirit still has strength. In oils and tinctures this is not usually an issue as the oil or alcohol preserves the plant matter. So regular feeding is not required. Incense is also not required to be fed as the fire releases the spirit essence when it is burned.

There are different traditions as to the number of herbs used, the time of feeding, the method of feeding. As a rule of thumb- if it is a short-term goal once a week is fine. If it is a long-term goal for a slow manifestation process or ongoing process once a week for the first month and then once a month thereafter, or whenever it feels it needs it.

Occasionally, I set up a ritual magic setting, other times I do not. It depends on my mood and what exactly I am doing. For example, if the Herbs I have are for something to do with love I will sometimes perform the ritual of the Hexagram of Venus and channel that energy along with my own into the plant. This also allows you to call upon the energies of Venus to maintain the charge of the consecrated item. However, this is not necessary, your energy, Will and the spirits of the plants are sufficient. It is a good boost to have though if say you are using lots of dried materials. Another good idea is to consecrate a crystal or talisman (something more durable requiring less feeding) with the intent of maintaining the charge of the charm bag etc.

But in general, I take each individual plant and whisper my intent into it. Breathing my energy into it and drawing out the energy within it. I then add it to whatever it is I am creating. I do this with each one, spending some time with each herb. Sometimes if I have an appropriate incense I smoke the herbs over the incense. Once the product is constructed I whisper once more and breathe three times. I then seal it. This is true of all techniques I use except mojo bags which have a different procedure, albeit similar. But not wanting to get into the realms of cultural appropriation and being cancelled by children who have no concept of magical history or practice I shall not state the method here.

I normally feed with energy infused with breath, however, smoking through pertinent incense is also satisfactory. I normally use plant magic these days in oils and tinctures and use them to energise other things such as talismans as well as my own etheric body.

If a product has become spiritually inert I deconstruct it and bury the plant materials giving thanks and permission to depart. I then leave another offering of water and cover with Earth. It can be nice to bury the plant material near where you picked it and give thanks to the parent plant and local spirits. However, this is not always practical and your own back garden is absolutely fine! Unless it is a curse in which case away from the home, perhaps in a cemetery or church is better.

This is my own simple method. I have done and sometimes still do more involved rituals. But I don’t want to share them here. They are quite personal and in some cases are family traditions. I believe I have covered the essence of plant magic in a simple way which can be embellished with personal flair.

How I select plants.

I tend to start with the basics, what does it look like? What colours does it have? What are these colours associated with? I then branch out into folklore and myths surrounding the plants- what sorts of things did the stories have about the plants. What have they been traditionally used for in medicine? This allows you to start forming a tradition around the plant, a correspondence around the plant within which you can plug your magical intention. For example, we know Lavender is purple, purple is Yesod- the moon. Lavender has been used medicinally to calm and induce sleep. Therefore, lavender is a potent herb to include in a recipe for dream work. It is that sort of thinking.

Luckily, many people have already done this thinking for you. Which is the purpose of the resources list below. Like I say sometimes plants will call out to you, it is ultimately up to you to find out how they can work for you.

EDIT: It has been brought to my attention that uprooting wild plants is illegal and environmentally irresponsible in the U.K. I thought I made it clear but if not- never take the whole plant, only what you need. Always research how to take from a plant without harming it. An app is okay for identification on the go but always strive to have knowledge of the local species first. Sometimes I assume I have made things clear when I have not.

Resources.

Ars Philtron by Daniel Schulke.

Viradium Umbris by Daniel Schulke.

Thirteen Pathways of Occult Herbalism by Daniel Schulke.

Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic by Cat Yronwode.

Sticks, Stones, Roots, and Bones by Stephanie Rose-Bird.

The Witching Herbs by Harold Roth.

Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham.

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Toki’s Psychological State Through the Seasons

Toki is by far for me personally the most interesting member of Dethklok; I know to some degree he’s deemed as a potentially over hyped character by fans and even the show itself, but there’s countless reasons why people cling onto that character, and they’re good reasons. Even if said reasons just come down to “I think he’s neat.” that’s valid.

For me I am so fascinated with his character development, personality, and the varied chunks of background information we get about him throughout the series. A big part of this character is that when you look at him in season one compared to season four he is very different or at least he appears to be much different. Season one does establish that Toki does have a childish personality, his bedroom looks more like a room for a kid than one for a guy in his 20s. Season one establishes those basic facts about him that do heavily carry out through the show, but also increase as the show goes on.

Toki goes from immature but not overly immature to....a complete fucking wreck by the finale of season four (before Doomstar) and the reason for it is simple; it’s trauma.

Toki starts to act differently in season one after the Dethfamily episode; he spends practically that entire episode in a catatonic state, his parents always looming nearby like figures of danger and doom. After this we do get to him being bitter about being seen as immature and seen as the kid of the band (despite the fact he was barely 16 when he joined Dethklok) and when a charity informs him that a dying girl wants to meet him he turns into a complete prick. He finally comes out of that when he sees a video the kid made of herself singing a song about death and hatred, with that scene we see a small flashback of Toki’s childhood; him about the little girl’s age standing out in the snow staring up at his parents looking confused and a moment later he’s being smacked across the face. 

We could already gather beforehand when we found out he came from a very devout religious sect outside of Lillehammer that his childhood was sketchy, plus how he locked up when around his parents, but seeing the flashback of him being hit as a little boy.....Answers the obvious question of “did they beat him?”

Season one is the least eventful of the seasons. Season two is when shit begins changing drastically.

Season two Toki receives a call to inform him that his father has cancer and is on his death bed, the family and the church wants him to return to Norway to see his father. He acts completely fine about this initially, the phone conversation and the way he announces his father’s terminal illness to the band is as if somebody just asked to borrow his car. When it gets close to time to actually go and when they are in Norway it’s different though; he becomes anxious and clearly uncomfortable, in Norway he stays in town mostly, stalling around places he went to as a kid and a teenager before he ran off to America. 

He does handle his father’s dying well once he finally convinces himself to go inside his house and see him then follow through with his father’s dying request to carry him up to his old childhood home (which goes wrong because his friend’s are dicks.) 

I am not going to go into personal detail at all and my situation was nothing like Toki’s (it’s incredibly rare to hear situations like that anymore), but Toki handling his father’s passing freakishly well kind of was a red flag for me, because I know from my own experiences that when you find out something complicated like a terminal illness or the death of your abusive parent theres’ a chance you may respond way too calmly to it, and then later down the line days or months or years later something will trigger a big reaction to it. Which is what happens.

After handling his dad’s death well we get the most iconic scene involving Toki at that point and honestly still the most iconic; he beats a man to death with his bare hands. The thing that triggers this is a hallucinated image of a rabbit, an animal he associates both with his father and his childhood, the image of it triggers him to fly into an insanely feral blind rage taking it out on a guy who had been annoying him all night. Toki has always throughout the entire series shown signs of being a tad violent, but never THAT bad. Sure he shot down a plane and had accidentally caused a death or twenty (the whole band is, it’s part of the sacrifices to the Gods deal) but we had never seen him before or after that moment beat somebody to death. That is new and it came from a place of pent up....shit. Shit he never worked through and even after that continued to not work through.

Because after this we lead into him worsening further; he begins drinking. A lot. The band consist of dudes with addiction issues, mainly alcohol, but Toki never seemed to drink quite as much as them until after he went feral on that straight edge guy. 

Toki deals with his childhood trauma in several ways:

He drinks. A lot.

He focuses on fantasy and daydreams to keep himself from focusing on his past.

He spends a lot of time with Dr. Rockso who takes advantage of his kindness often, he also spends gross amounts of money bailing his clown buddy out of jail. Constantly.

He occasionally gets violent, but never to the point of manslaughter.

Seasons three and four are when we get fully introduced to Toki acting like a kid more than a guy in his 20s and it makes sense. Toki didn’t have a childhood; we learn that his parents essentially made him into a slave at a young age having him do pointless “chores” like sweeping snow during a storm, carrying stacks of wood much too heavy for a small child, etc. and when he failed to work quickly enough or failed a task they punished him. They punished him by locking him in a shed, they punished him by chaining him up like an animal, they punished him by smacking him, by beating him with a bull whip, and worst of all (who knew it could get worse) they would force him to stay for long periods of times in a deep hole dug into the ground. A hole where he hid a clown doll made of twigs and straw, the only friend he had as a little kid.

From all that we can gather through the show he didn’t exactly have a social life of any kind until his teens, the older he became the braver I think he became, and that was responded to with worse violence from his parents. I think the statement in season one about a vision of father killing son wasn’t totally off, I think if Toki had never run away from Norway that his father would have murdered him. I think his parents knew somehow that he isn’t entirely human, they knew he was something else, and I do think his parents had plans to kill him before he could become “too powerful”. 

That aside though.....Once we the audience as well as his friends find out far more details about his horrifying childhood Toki changes. A lot. He’d already been immature and a tad bit off but he regresses further after that, more prone to depression and outbursts, clinginess, and a need to feel like he’s loved by pretty much anybody.

This is a dude who is about my age that came to the horrid realization that any person or animal he loves will die because that’s his “gift”, the gift of death. He works his ass off to repress and rationalize a brutally nightmarish childhood, and the guys he’s in a band with who he loves and sees as his family....are dicks. We know that when he joined Dethklok before they got famous that they were all close, but when they began becoming popular and became immensely wealthy the others became more focused on self indulgence and power, less focused on this still a child who desperately just wanted a family.

I think a key factor with Toki being the way he is comes down to the band’s “no caring” rule. A rule that only existed because of Magnus. Toki is the baby in a group of people who have known each other for a good while, people who came to an agreement to not give a shit about each other for a reason they never explained to him because it’s too painful for them to think about. I think he always tried to live by that rule of not caring, he tried to bury all the shit wrong with himself the best that he could but he was never good at it. It’s also clear they all care about each other and they definitely care about Toki; Nathan and Skwisgaar often being the most protective of him. 

In season four aka the season where the show becomes less of a comedy and more of a drama with stunning animation. Toki is immensely more immature and awkward, he’s clingy with the band especially where Skwisgaar is regarded. Near the end of season four he’s completely fucked up; he splits his time between Rockso (his comfort object) and Magnus (a father figure to replace Nathan) in the dinner episode which has so much going on in it. So much. Toki is at his lowest point in the series; he shows up late, drunk as fucking hell, shirtless, and covered in bruises and cuts. Rockso is with him and when Charles tries to tell him Rockso shouldn’t be there Toki goes into a full fucking anxiety attack until Charles tells him it’s fine to have the clown there. Toki’s heavily dependent on Rockso by that point; his found family is quickly falling to shit. God knows what kind of shit Magnus might have been feeding him about the band at that point. 

Toki’s entire thing from day one/the pilot of the series is that he just wants a family. When he feels like he doesn’t belong in the one that he found and was taken in by he searches for family in other places, when he can’t handle the memories of his childhood he spirals hard. I understand that the guys didn’t really know how to handle it after they heard about Toki’s childhood so I can’t fault them completely for just.....shoving him off onto Rockso after that, but I still think they should have tried to be there for him more so, more directly. I think an outlet that isn’t a drug addled clown might have helped him in some way, I think if when he’d been a teenager if one of them had found out about his upbringing and just pointed out “that isn’t okay, at all.” then things might have panned out differently. 

Mental regression isn’t uncommon when it comes down to victims of trauma caused by extreme abuse. Especially considering his trauma all occurred basically from the get go; he was a child slave, the closest I would guess he ever got to having a childhood when he was a kid was seeing other kids childhoods. Going into town and seeing kids playing, sneaking into birthday parties just to be around other kids his age, etc. and he definitely was childish as a teenager, but I think he tried to bury that side of himself when his bandmates started teasing him or pointing out how unmetal it all is.....But then a douche bag journalist brought his parents to America, a little girl died, his abusive father died horribly (as he should) in front of him, he beat a man to death (allegedly), etc. 

He spent a lot of years away from all the trauma and the death and the bull shit then suddenly it started piling on top of him again and his escapism was fantasy, clinging onto a junkie clown, partaking in childish hobbies.....because why not? 

Each member of the band suffered some messed up shit when they were kids and it shows in different ways, this is Toki’s way of dealing with it....or not. I’m not entirely sure what his psychological state would be post Doomstar; the way he bounces back from immense trauma makes me think that he would be okay given some time and that’s a safe assumption to make, especially now that his bandmates/family will be there for him the way he needs them to be.

I want to tag @theidiotwiththepaintedface who hopefully will enjoy this painfully long deep dive into a character’s psychology lol.

[butwhatifidothis]

I want to tackle your points individually, so I hope I don’t come across as too rude when I say that I categorically disagree with about everything you’ve said here.

“Edelgard did NOT choose to ally with TWSITD ffs (they literally tortured her???) she was their puppet and tried to make the most out of her situation”

I want you to look at these words, that she says to the face of the people who’ve supposedly have her wrapped around their finger - the leader of those people, in fact - and genuinely try to tell me that they give off the feeling that she was forced to partner with them under threat of her life

“As for your request, I assent. The Death Knight is yours. Use him well.

“There will be no salvation for your kind.” (Followed by Thales defending himself by saying “All so that you may acquire the strength you need. All for a purpose.”)

“Yes... We're counting on you. For now. (Note that this is after they’ve killed Cornelia and have already angered Thales enough to retaliate)

Also look at some of her words - and Hubert’s - regarding Thales/TWS:

“Let him do as he pleases for now. It's not yet the time to chide him.” (Edelgard, in response to Hubert reporting that Thales is taking the relics of the Alliance after Claude’s defeat)

“ Until all of Fódlan is united, it is a necessary evil. As for how we deal with them afterward... time will tell.” (Hubert, in telling Byleth why they must use TWS’ power. Note that no where in this conversation as a whole does it state that “TWS are too powerful to resist” and only speaks of how beneficial working with them is to achieving their goals)

Are these the sentiments and words of people forced to work with someone against their will? Under fear of their life and the lives of their friends? 

Speaking of friends

“so they wouldn’t kill her and her friends”

She is willing to order her men to kill her friends if they stand in the way of her graverobbing the Crest Stones. Hubert will threaten the lives of BE students’ families who have been recruited if they fight him during the attack on Garreg Mach. The safety and concern of her friends cannot honestly be a priority for her if she is willing to kill them for standing in the way of her goals that she never explains to them. They only have the knowledge that Edelgard is the Flame Emperor, a figure involved in most of the tragic events that happen during WC, and so they cannot reasonably be threatened so viscously by her for trying to stop her, and Hubert obviously has no care for them personally.

“She hates the church for the same reason that she hates TWSITD! What Rhea did to baby byleth is basically what was done to Edelgard by TWSITD.”

...This is a flawed comparison, to put it nicely.

What Rhea did to Byleth has an infant cannot, in any way, be comparable to what TWS did to Edelgard. Rhea did not intend for Byleth to be a vessel of Sothis and did not implant Sothis’ Crest Stone into them for that purpose - she was trying to save a baby, by the request of that baby’s mother, and did the only thing she could to do so. In doing so she genuinely did save Byleth’s life, and Byleth only suffered from stunted emotional growth as a result of it (which as shown by Jeralt’s reaction to them spending time in the monastery is not permanent). Her obsession with them only came afterwards, and this obsession eventually fades into her accepting that Byleth can never be Sothis.

Now, please tell me how that is, in any way, the same as what was done to Edelgard. Edelgard, who was forced at around 11 or 12 to have blood magic forcefully and painfully done onto her with the express purpose of trying to mold her into a perfect emperor. The “procedure” of which was well known by that time to at best drastically shorten the lifespan of those who do make it (as Lysithea is the only other confirmed case of it “working”) and at worst killing them painfully. This was not done to save her life as Rhea did with Byleth, but to force her to become a specific figurehead against her will.

“Arundel is keeping an eye on Edelgard and Hubert’s doings while they’re at the monastery so they must be discreet with their flame emperor plan (which was the solution they came up with to try to break free of TWSITD)”

Is... this saying that Thales doesn’t know that Edelgard is the Flame Emperor? Apologies if I’m reading this incorrectly, but if I’m not then, well... Thales says that the Tragedy of Duscur was done to benefit Edelgard as she is donned in the the Flame Emperor disguise. Why would Thales do that for someone he apparently doesn’t think is Edelgard, the one he is allying with? 

If that’s not what you’re saying, again, sorry about that. But to the claim that Edelgard had to be discreet, I agree to a degree. Edelgard had inside information about who were TWS in disguise - she knew who Monica was, it’s heavily implied that she knew who Tomas was, at bare minimum if she doesn’t know Thales = Arundel then she knows he works with TWS regardless. All of the people who were shown to be TWS in disguise Edelgard knew who they were beforehand, so if she knows who to look out for what’s is stopping her at some point from taking Byleth to the side and letting them in on what she was doing? 

And besides that point, as this reply is in response to a post going over how Edelgard ignored the people of Remire, what was stopping her from doing literally anything to have Imperial relief supplies and/or refuge be given to Remire survivors? Why did only the Church do that? Was TWS to blame for that too? Were they stopping her from doing anything to help Remire’s residents - her citizens - after they came and razed it to the ground with their experiments?

In my opinion what Edelgard had with TWS cannot be reasonably called “her hands were tied behind her back,” especially when Hubert himself literally describes it as “the enemy of my enemy” sort of partnership to Byleth. Hope I’ve laid out why alright enough, and sorry if I came across as rude in this post

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

Adam stayed by his nephew’s side as long as he was allowed. He hadn’t been allowed in the operating room, but there was no removing him from the recovery area.

The bullet had gone clean through Roman’s chest, so fortunately there was nothing to remove, and once the bullet was found, it could easily be compared to the one that had killed Abraham Helios. Roman had lost a lot of blood, and there was still considerable damage caused by the bullet, but everyone agreed that he’d likely recover from this attack. Malika had stumbled upon him in just enough time to save him.

Malika had been equally difficult to remove from the recovery area. Adam at least had staff privileges, while Malika was in the recovery area by sheer force of will. No one dared escort her out when she was that intense about staying. The hospital hadn’t really hired any security in the past decade since their previous most serious case had been Zane Hydes eating fifty grilled cheese sandwiches in one night and becoming quite ill from it. They’d never needed security to take on family members overstepping proper procedures before. At least both Wanda and Salem were directly impacted by Roman’s shooting, and probably would approve any budget increase the hospital asked for.

There had been another positive change caused by the shooting. Malika had actually embraced her son Adam, and he may have been hallucinating it, but he thought he may have heard her whisper that she was proud of him. After years of her being indifferent at best towards him, Adam wasn’t sure he knew how to process this sudden display of maternal praise.

Omar and Kamalani were so beside themselves with worry, they didn’t even bicker with each other as they sat next to their unconscious son. Omar left his spouses and kids at home for obvious reasons, but Wbuna had sent along homemade muffins to supplement the horrible cafeteria food in support of the family. Salem had eaten a few before Malika’s arm had “slipped” and dropped them in the trash.

“I should have had him living with me,” Omar groaned finally. “This would never have happened if I-”

“If what?” Kamalani snapped. “What would you have done? What have you ever done?”

“What have I done? I didn’t abandon him for months without any explanation or even a goodbye.”

“No, you just let your incompetent parents raise him for you, until he let a Helios seduce him into breaking-”

“Kamalani!” Malika’s voice cut across the room sharply and her ex-daughter in law’s mouth snapped closed immediately. The two women shared a knowing stare that Omar couldn’t interpret.

“Well, I’ll be fighting to get custody of him again. He’s going to need his father more than ever after this,” he declared and nearly everyone in the room tried to stifle a laugh.

“Oh honey, we all appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but now isn’t the time for joking,” Malika chided, tousling his hair like he was still ten years old.

Someone needed to hold down the fort at the Bellamy home, and Wanda and Hunter volunteered. They chased off some reporters, and checked in every hour with the hospital, but were otherwise left alone with their thoughts.

“This is all so crazy,” Wanda said. “Nothing makes sense.”

“I know, who would want to shoot Roman? He’s just a kid.”

Wanda wasn’t entirely sure about how to broach the subject of motive with her husband. She’d been having doubts for weeks now about anything concerning Roman’s recent troubles. Kamalani was as rude to her as the blood related Bellamys, and it was no surprise that Malika had Kamalani around more than her actual son. The two of them were both vipers hiding behind a deception of sincerity. But what were their real motives? Wanda got to be included in simple things like summoning Roman, but was left out of their private tea times, and whispered conversations in the yard.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the person who killed Abraham shot to kill him, and then shot Roman clear of any major arteries or organs?”

Hunter frowned.

“Maybe they were a lousy shot,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just thankful that he’s going to pull through this. He could have just as easily bled out.”

Wanda picked at the corner of one of her nails absently. This needed to be said in the right way.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that your mother was walking in Factory Park so late at night, just in time to find Roman?”

Hunter’s frown grew deeper.

“No, she got a text message from the killer. That’s why Roman went too. She’s lucky to not have been a victim as well.”

“I know, but she...” Wanda paused and changed tactics. “Have you noticed anything strange happening lately? Especially around Roman? I saw him throwing chairs at his bedroom window the other day, trying to break the glass.”

Hunter shrugged.

“He’s a troubled kid,” he replied. “A lot’s changing in his life and he’s acting out.”

Wanda shook her head adamantly.

“No, it’s more than that. Kamalani and your mother talk about him all the time, but stop talking the instant I get close to them. He’s been cooped up in this house for several weeks, and never once left to see Abe who lives basically down the street. You’re telling me that Roman, the boy who runs away from everything, stayed voluntarily in this house when he could be sneaking out to see his boyfriend?”

Hunter’s shoulders stiffened, and Wanda knew she’d pushed a bit too hard, too quickly.

“What are you saying? That Roman should have died because Abraham died? That my nephew is usually out roaming the streets looking to impregnate other teens and him trying to spend a time of crisis with our family for support is suspicious?”

“Yes!” Wanda blurted out, too frustrated to care anymore. “Yes, he should have died! Just like my brother died! Your mother had no time to see and react to the text and still make it to that park in time to save him.” Her hands clenched into fists. “This family is insane, and it would be insane to expect support from them! Your brothers are thrown out of your family now, but they were never really included in the family before! Who lets their son’s ex-wife stay in their house, while shunning their son? Omar’s a bit dull, but he’s way better than Kamalani! And Roman has been a budding sociopath as long as he’s lived with your parents. He has no friends his age, and keeps condoms that he uses with someone in his wallet. For god’s sake, you could tell me that he shot Abraham and I would believe it. I try and I try with that kid, and nothing outside of being with Abe seems to get through to him. No wonder both of his parents abandoned him here!”

Wanda was practically hyperventilating. All of her frustrations, all the little micro aggressions she’d had to endure while living here spilled out of her, and for the first time in months, her chest didn’t feel burdened down by the Bellamy family.

Hunter said nothing, but Wanda could see the anger burning in his eyes. He stood up slowly and headed for the hall.

“It’s been a very stressful night, and tensions are running high,” he stated with the same bitter edge to his voice as his mother. “I think that maybe it would be for the best if you spent the night with Melvin. To clear your head.”

Wanda rested her head against the smooth wall outside of the hospital main entrance. She and Hunter had never really fought before, and she didn’t like feeling out of sync with him. There was so much adding up that she didn’t understand about the Bellamys, and about Arkhelios itself. Maybe a night apart would help give Hunter some perspective on his family. Maybe it would help her decide if she truly wanted to be a part of the Bellamy family at all. She would go spend the night on Melvin’s couch, and they would put their heads together and solve this nightmare once and for all. The constant stream of funerals had to end before the entire population of Arkhelios was buried in the church yard.

Still, she felt bad about what she’d said about Roman, especially since he was still in such bad shape. Could she be wrong about having suspicions about his injuries? Maybe he had just been luckier than Abraham and she was forcing connections to help her cope with how her brother had not been quite so lucky. She decided to pop in to see Roman quickly before she headed to Melvin’s just to ease her guilt. Maybe supporting the Bellamys when their guard was down was the key to winning them over. If they endured this all together, they would have some common ground to work with.

The hospital wasn’t very big, and had a limited amount of rooms for Roman to be in. She found Salem and Omar napping on couches in a waiting area, with several empty styrofoam cups of hospital coffee strewn across a nearby table.

Well if they’re able to sleep, that probably means Roman is doing okay.

She peeked into the first room on the left. Nope. Empty.

She wandered to the next room down the hall. No, no Roman. She was about to continue her search when she heard familiar voices echo down the hall. Malika was crying to the point of actual sobs, which made Wanda extremely uncomfortable. Malika never broke down and showed her feelings, especially if they made her look vulnerable. It felt like an intrusion to hear her in this state, but this brief glimpse into Malika’s actual feelings may be the only chance Wanda ever got to understand her bewildering mother in law. She hid in the room she’d entered behind the door, and strained to hear what was being said just up the hall. Thank god the hospital walls were poorly made and exceptionally thin.

“I...I can’t get the blood out of my coat,” Malika sobbed, and Wanda could hear Kamalani make comforting shushing sounds.

“It’s okay, we did what we had to. Things will be better now. You can buy a new coat.”

What they had to do? That probably just means the CPR.

“And my hands, under my nails...there’s a gaping hole in my grandson’s chest, I saw it! I practically raised him! I kissed him good night every time you gave him to us.” The sobs increased until Wanda could barely understand what she was saying. “And now I’ve watched him slowly start to die! People cut him open right in front of me! His shirt...bleeding...and pieces of bone....”

Malika was barely making sense and Wanda felt shame wash over her, listening to a grandmother grieve this horrible trauma. Maybe Hunter was right, and there wasn’t anything deeper to Roman’s shooting. Malika had been lucky to find Roman when she did. The stars had just aligned correctly to save Roman. He had beat the odds, and Zane simply didn’t. Just random chance.

“Shhh,” Kamalani whispered. It sounded like Malika was calming down. “’Screw your courage to the sticking place’, remember? You know what’s at stake here, and our plan is working. That Helios boy almost came here once already. With Roman immobile, he’ll be drawn here eventually. Arkhelios can be saved. Roman will be saved.”

A chill ran down Wanda’s spine and she pressed harder against the wall instinctively. She definitely didn’t want to be discovered now.

This had been the wrong thing to say, and Malika started sobbing once more.

“His-His eyes though! I saw him look at me when he fell. When he struggled to breathe! I thought when we started this it would be easy, but I can't forget the look on his face. The smell of his blood! I can only pretend that I don't know for so long. How do I tell him when he wakes up? How can I make him understand?”

Kamalani sighed heavily, clearly growing impatient with her ex-mother in law.

“Tell him that you weren’t involved. That you found him after I left. You’re not the one who pulled the trigger after all. He may not even remember seeing you there, or confuse it for when you called Adam." A long pause and more sobbing carried over the air to Wanda. "If it makes you feel less guilty, I can shoot you too. That will throw suspicion off of you.”

Wanda had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from reacting.

Kamalani shot her own son? Why? And does this mean she killed Abraham too?

“You had one job this entire time,” Kamalani hissed as Malika’s sobs grew louder. “All you had to do was put him on a plane and keep writing checks until some duke or prince caught his interest and you couldn’t even manage that. Now how do you think he'll feel when Abe turns up dead? You could have spared him that pain if you'd only stopped this when I warned you."

Complete silence fell in the hospital. The only sound was the faint hum of the lights, and an occasional beep from down the hall. Wanda looked through the crack of the door hinges, and saw Malika poke her head out of the room they were in, looking for any sign of eavesdroppers. Salem and Omar were still sleeping and the woman at the front desk far down the hall seemed to be busy typing. Wanda held her breath, trying to remain as still as possible. Satisfied that they were alone, Malika ducked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” she hissed, shock replacing her tears. “Killing Abe was never part of the plan. We only need to prevent the child-”

“It’s been too long, that child could be born any day now and survive. Our only chance is to act swiftly, and end the threat immediately. You must realize how close to ruin Arkhelios is. A lot more people will die if Abe doesn’t. You know this, Malika! You were the one who chose this to begin with."

Malika sighed and seemed to be gathering her composure again. The cold mask she presented to the world (and especially to Wanda) was slipping back into place.

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't have the stomach for the act itself, but it's necessary. We've been too subtle, too timid hoping that this will resolve itself. Roman will understand one day, and if he doesn't, then maybe he'll feel pushed to leave Arkhelios on his own."