#ignore me! i'm just losing/expanding my mind over here

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

Hit FX sitcom It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia has genuinely compelled me to read and appreciate classic literature more than any of my many former years of school. I look at the silly rat show and am like I get it now, I'm gonna read Shakespeare, Beckett, Dostoyevsky, etc. and analyze the world for funsies, my grades 7-11 English teachers could NEVER.

[marbl3z]

Dan Heng rambles

i. ok listen, i know - i just did a fic with him, but- ok so. heres a funny story,

.

.

i love him a lot,, iM SOrRY

sfw and nsfw. 18+

SFW

Dan heng who seems to be so put together and reserved to everyone else but melts against your hugs. Prefers having his head on your chest, his ear listening to your heart. but he does not mind if the roles were switched, he'll hold you against his chest and kiss the top of your head.

He loves when you hold his hand when no one is looking, squeezing it gently when you notice his anxiety. He loves when you guys are cuddling you play with his hair. Kissing and twirling it around your fingers, the gentle scent of the shampoo he uses filling your senses.

he adores it when you get pouty at him because he stayed up too late entering stuff into the data banks. You'll pull him away from his work, pulling his head against your chest, giving him gentle head scratches and laying down on his futon with him in your arms.

Dan heng swears he never gets sick as he is always cautious. But every now and then, he'll get a common cold, or the flu. And he'll refuse for you to touch him as he doesn't want you to become sick as well, but the moment you have your arms around him, or the moment you're so close to him, spoon feeding him soup you made in the kitchen. His heart flutters and he can't help but ignore the sickness, and ask for one kiss, or one hug. (It's never just one)

hes such a nervous lover, hes scared you'll get hurt by him or his past. he's slow and patient (i may expand on this ehe), he'll treat you as if you were a sacred treasure for him, and him only. his lips are sensitive and when you kiss him it feels 10x warmer and softer.

he gets cold easily, he doesnt complain though. he'll just wrap a blanket over his lap and continue working in the databank, if you're there with him, he'll subtly scoot over to you and continue reading. eventually it'll turn into cuddling, his arms around your waist, his face buried in your neck. soft and gentle touches make his heart swell, brushing your lips on his knuckles, booping his nose with your own, forehead nuzzles, everything, it makes him feel so soft and he loves you more and more.

"starlight", "love", "sweetie", those petnames he'll use when its just the two of you, in a soft setting, holding his hand. cuddling, even before you two go to sleep, he'll call you any of those.

(18+ nsfw, mdni)

"baby", "Honey", and any of the likes, he'll use when you two are sharing a very intimate moment together. he'll be out of breath, whining and moaning against your lips, his large hand wrapped around your waist, hugging you against him. he'll be gentle, he doesnt fuck, he makes love in my opinion.

he'll be so lost in the pleasure he'll babble on about how much you mean to him, how good it feels, he's never felt this way before. its overwhelming for him, he'll leave soft kisses on your face and neck.

he'll whisper in your ears how close he is, his hips would stutter, his rhythm would falter, he begs you to cum with him. calling you his pretty lover, his sweetheart, his sweet baby. he'll kiss your lips, moaning breathlessly in your mouth, poor thing falls apart in your arms.

"love, please- i'm, ah- im so close," he whimpers in your ear, one hand on your hips, bringing you closer to him as he thrusts inside of you. the other caressing your face, listening to every moan and whimper you emit.

you call him your good boy, and he'll just LOSE IT. his eyes flutter close, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his grip on your hips would tighten for a moment. the rocking of his hips would stutter so much, he'll bite his lip to stop a loud moan. a muffled whimper as you give him sweet praises. your hands on his thighs.

"you're doing so well," he'll whimper, as he reaches closer to his climax. "my good boy, loving me so well," you coo in his sensitive ear. "i'm so close- Dan heng.." you moan wrapping your arms around him, hugging his body. "f-fuck, dan heng..!" you tighten around him, he'll press his body against yours, his cock twitching inside of you. his naval pressed so sweetly against your body, his body rubbing against your sensitive genitalia.

"c-cum for me, you're so good- s-so pretty.." he'll smash his lips against yours, rubbing your tip/clit as you near your orgasm.

"I-i love y-you, D-Dan heng," you breath out, your back arches as he hits your sweet spot. you tighten around him so much he can barely move. his eyes widen, watching your body arch, your blunt nails digging into his muscles, your blissful expression and your breathy moan.

his orgasm follows suit after yours, his hips faltering to a stop, a loud high pitched moan escapes his mouth as he buries his head in your chest. he's out of breath, he'll be so wobbly in the knees unsure if he can sit up to pull out of you. you press a gentle kiss on his neck, smiling softly at him catching his breath.

he'll eventually pull out of you, hissing lightly as he moves his hips back. he'll try to resist the urge to just lay down on top of you, he'll groggily put his boxers on and run to grab a warm towel to clean you up, kissing you sweetly and whispering sweet things in you ear as you tiredly help assist him in cleaning you up.

once you're cleaned he'll help you dress in comfortable clothes, his shirt or his pajama pants, or both. laying next to you, watching your expressions relax as you melt in his arms. you reassuring him that he didnt hurt you, and you love him so so much makes his heart swell, he has to hold back tears because he's so happy.

you two fall asleep entangled in each others arms, sweet dreams and gentle heartbeats. the world can wait, the only thing that matters is you and him.

OH AND HE REALLY LIKES WHEN YOU BOTHER HIM LOVINGLY-

im sorry its so long i love him a lot and i kind of went off during the nsfw part- gaahh!! /pos

[connorsblog]

˙✧˖° YOU'LL BE OKAY 📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

a/n: im currently still working on the spencer fic but i need to rewatch the last half of season 12 to refresh my memory! until then enjoy this :) (also ignore how my format will change a bit here and there, im experimenting with it!)

pairing: rosita espinosa x reader + maggie rhee x reader if you squint !!

warnings: dont read if you havent reached 11x24! spoiler warning. but basic twd gore warning, cussing, character death, etc

loosely inspired by lil jeep by lil peep (specifically the "i'm dyin', i dont think that my bitch know" part)

——————————————————————————

me, eugene, gabriel, and rosita finally made it home. it had been one hell of a day — fighting off walkers and the mental strain for rosita of almost losing her kid.

all of us had huddled in the apartment, judith's shoulder in a sling. she'll be fine, though. she's one hell of a damn fighter.

my eyes caught rosita whispering to gabriel about something. he looked crushed — and that didn't occur very often anymore, especially after he hardened over the years.

i decided after a few moments to head over there myself. to my surprise, they didn't stop talking as i made my way over there.

rosita just looked... upset. but light, as well. her face was calm but if you looked deep enough — you'd see her thoughts churning behind her eyes like the rough, dark sea.

"hey," she finally pulled her face away from gabriels ear, his face lightening up but you could see it behind his eyes — something went wrong.

"what's goin' on?" i got straight to the point. i didn't want to twiddle my damn thumbs while something may be happening.

"uh," she pressed her lips together as she began, her demeanor seemed to shake.

she leaned towards me — her scent as intoxicating as it always has been. her soft tone reached my ears, the words slipping my mind until she pulled away.

"you're bit?" i whispered, and my heart seemed to jumpstart itself, pounding annoyingly against my ribcage.

"you'll be okay, you know?" she whispered, her voice cracking so subtly i almost didnt notice it.

"i won't, ro. you know that." this time my voice cracked, tears threatening to spill like the overflowing, hot magma of a volcano — it was hard to hold them back.

she stayed silent this time, moving her hand towards mine. her grey sweater cuff brushed against my skin, tickling me so much i would've laughed if it had been any other day.

i breathed in heavily, my chest expanding so much i thought my heart'd explode any second. it was still pounding unrelentlessly against my ribs, taking my breath away as it did so.

"i love you, ro." i swallowed thickly, pressing her soft hand against my face as my tears threatened to burst once again.

"i love you," she whispered like it was a forbidden phrase, something i'd never not grin about. no matter the day.

like i had predicted — my lips stretched into a small smile, the skin cracking painfully. i didn't wince, though, i had just avoided thinking about any other pain.

after a few minutes of tricking my brain, everything except rosita's presence was a simple background lull, like an old fridge motor, no matter how annoying it got you'd get used to it whether you desired it or not.

the other's chatter had died down slowly, everyone beginning to get tired from the day we all had. judith and daryl looked the most drained, second to connie, magna, and yumiko.

wait, where the hell was luke?

i hadn't known him entirely well, but he made judith laugh. as well as michonne, which had always been difficult to do especially after rick.

rosita's thumb rubbing against my hand snapped my attention back to her, her dark eyes staring at me insistently.

"yeah?" i mumbled, wondering if she had anything else to add to the pile of shit from today.

"nothin' was just wondering where you went," she leaned her chin on my shoulder, her scent filling my nostrils with such strong warmth. i felt safe with her, like always. there was never a moment where i hadn't felt safe around her presence.

"jus' thinking," i wanted to urge her to come closer into my arms, i wanted her beating heart against mine until it couldnt beat any longer. i wanted her against me until i couldn't think of anything else except her.

——————————————————————————

after about an hour of me and rosita just talking, her head seemed to become a bit limp. she was dying, but i didn't want to believe that. my brain worked on a way to convince itself she'll just be gone, but not dead. it worked like cogs in a machine but nothing worked.

me and maggie had decided to get her into the bed, watching her chest rise and fall much easier now that she didn't have to hold her body up.

i sat in a plush chair next to the bed, my legs dangling off the arm as i tried to get comfortable. i couldn't, though, my body failing to feel any comfort unless i was in rositas arms, inhaling her sweet scent.

"love, you okay?" rosita asked as if she wasnt laying down, fighting for each breath she took, her lungs burning every minute.

"yeah, sorry. jus' can't get comfortable." i mumble, embarrassment tickling my cheeks as they turned bright red.

"come here," she offered, her hand outstretched for me to grab. i crawled in bed with her, my body fitting into hers like we were pieces of the same puzzle.

"any better?" she asked, pressing a weak kiss to my head.

"yes," i smiled softly against her shoulder blade, somehow forgetting for a moment. forgetting she could die any minute — any second her ever so loving heart could stop. the blood rushing out her body, stopping all movement and short circuiting the brain. all of our memories saved for me, nobody to share them with.

her sharp inhale made my thoughts snap apart, my eyes immediately averting to her. "you okay?"

"yes, sorry. i just —" she grunts, trying to move her shoulder, "shoulder hurts like a bitch." she half-chuckled as i gazed into her dark eyes.

most of my concern dropped from my face, some still lingering in case she needed help to breathe or move or anything.

my mind seemed to race. what if she died and turned immediately? not giving me a chance to lay with her peaceful body before it decomposes, not giving me a chance to be with her.

rosita noticed my thinking, but didnt stop me until i realized her eyes were burning into the side of my face, making me turn half towards her.

"sorry, can't seem to stop thinking today," i try to smile but all efforts fail, a choked sob seeming to come out instead.

she didnt utter a word, just immediately took me into her arms. her scent engulfed my body, my skin melting to hers as if she was a mold.

i had forgot about coco — my mind making her presence slip my memory — her small, sleeping frame moving ever so slightly in the corner of my eye as rosita kept her arms around my body.

i looked back up at rosita, her face peaceful as she struggled to continue breathing. she didn't panic, not at all. she just stayed calm despite her instincts telling her to try to breathe.

i unwrapped her arms from around me, laying her down against her pillow. i gently lifted coco from her once-peaceful sleeping position, pressing their faces together as rositas eyes drifted closed.

our hearts seemed to stop in sync, my heart jumpstarting itself and pounding against my chest as her body became still.

——————————————————————————

about a year later,

i was out in alexandria gardening with coco. she babbled incoherently, giggling everytime my too big of a hat for my head kept tilting over, threatening to fall down.

i heard dull footsteps coming from behind me, my late instincts to grab my knife evaporated long ago, just being able to turn around without the consistent fear of dying looming over my head.

"hey," i grinned as i saw maggie walk towards me, taking her into my arms, hershel following right behind her like a lost dog.

"how're you?" she asked gently, taking a loose strand of her messed-up hair and tucking it behind her ear.

"i'm good, how are you holdin' up?" i returned the favor, my mind drifting every few seconds.

i had strangely realized — maggie smelled familiar. like home, but home used to be a person. my person, but that person wasn't here. the last physical reminder of her existence was next to me, gardening like her life depended on it.

——————————————————————————

note: i enjoyed writing this so very much ! i miss rosita so dearly

[cipher-zoo]

First off to the birthday anon you own me financial compensation because one gonna be thinking about that forever

And kinda expanding on that maybe when buggy is a bit older its his birthday again and this time they didnt forget and they get a party set up that night. And then buggy doesnt show up. He is gone for hours and they are freaking out. Its well past midnight when buggy shows up scuffed and bruised but okay.

And they are demanding where is was at and why he didnt come to his own birthday party and to that buggy is just dismissively like “oh that was today”

And when the press further about where he was (cuase he wont tell anyone) he is just in general confused he is like “ sorry about the party but like you usually dont care when im usuallyout”

And before his mind can catch up Rayliegh ask “ what do you mean your usually out?”

And the look and buggys face is enough to tell them they once again fucked up and now everyone is trying to remember the last they saw buggy actually on the ship whenever their docked.

Buggy had assumed they knew when he was gone and just never asked either becuase they trusted him or just didnt care, they hadnt left him yet (there had been some close calls). He bother to hear the rest and just heads off to bed

Reggie, my friend! You can't demand financial compensation and then break MY heart in return! What did I do? I'm just the messenger here - well, a very unreliable messenger who adds their own thoughts and takes to other people's messages 🤔 ... but a messenger nonetheless!

All this being said, holy hell, I love this.

I have this Headcanon that, over the years, Buggy turned out to be a far bigger troublemaker than Shanks. At least on one hand, because he had less to lose than Shanks - after all Shanks was the golden boy, and we can't ignore that that must have put a lot of pressure on his shoulders as well - and on the other hand, because Buggy, as we know him, just gets himself into the most miserable situations. [Rayleigh definitely had to have the 'you can't follow strangers, just because they tell you they have treasure in the back of their carriage' conversation with Buggy MULTIPLE times]

Now I'm not just saying this to ramble, but because I think that maybe this is how the situation could have started.

When he was younger, Buggy would every now and again get in trouble for staying away from the ship for too long. I believe in the early days this was by no means on purpose, he was simply set on some goal or another that had him so focused he simply forgot to get back in time (that, or he got in trouble). Which in turn would get him stuck with more chores or maybe being stuck with guard duty for the next island etc.

But over the years, Buggy noticed that he would get in trouble less and less often. And he started to assume that Rayleigh simply realized that he could trust Buggy to stay out longer, since he was getting older and even if he wasn't as strong as Shanks, he could defend himself if necessary.

Only then to realize that the real reason was that nobody even NOTICED that he wasn't there... yeah, that must have hurt.

I don't know if you listen to musicals, but there is this song: "Superboy and the Invisible Girl" from the musical Next to Normal. And I have to say, this whole situation reminds me of that a lot.

Thank you very much for sharing these thoughts with me. Even if it hurts.

[Also, part of me feels like I need to write some happy Roger Pirate head canons, because as I said, I love them so much, and I know I am portraying them in a negative light a lot right now, but that's just one verse of them I could see!]

[inkovert]

WIP Snippet Tag Game

Rules: Post a snippet you've written that you're proud of and tag 5 people

Thank you @pluttskutt for creating this tag game and tagging me to get it started! Hope you don't mind I gave it a name, feel free to change it

Tagging: @that-chibi-writer @junypr-camus @mundanemoongirl @chauceryfairytales @author-a-holmes

I was pretty excited to do this one because I have a lot of scenes that I'm proud of that I've written lately. I was torn between two that I wanted to share but chose to go with this one. I rarely post long snippets of my writing so I was hesitant to share this one, but I just don't think singling out a piece of this scene would've done it justice so - here it is!

A snippet from My Dearest Enemy. I don't think much context is needed.

CW: active grieving, death of a parent, brief mention of self-harm (to those I tagged pls don't feel obligated to read this if it is at all triggering)

Word count: 1915

A sea of faceless onlookers. A figure in the middle, centering the piece. Something was off about her. Was she naked? No. Too literal, too obvious. Black in a sea of white? No nuance to that. But something made her different from the others. A spot of abnormal in the sea of normality. 

“Would anyone be willing to read the passage on page 13 starting with ‘Clevinger arrested himself’?”

I glanced up from my sketchbook. Dead silence. Almost everyone stared down at their desks as if that would somehow make them invisible. 

Mrs. Fischer stood at the front of the class, frowning. Why she insisted on getting a bunch of jaded seniors to read out loud anymore was above me.  

To put everyone out of the misery of steeping in this awkwardness any longer, I closed my sketchbook and boldly raised a hand. 

Mrs. Fischer’s eyes brightened behind her glasses. “Thank you, Cameron, for volunteering.” 

I flipped to the page and cleared my throat before reading: “Clevinger arrested himself in mid-declamation, suspiciously. ‘Who’s Nathaniel?’ ‘Nathaniel who?’ inquired Yossarian impatiently. Clevinger skirted the trap neatly. ‘You think everybody is Jehovah. You’re no better than Raskol—”  I stopped abruptly. 

“Raskolnkov,” Mrs. Fischer said, under the assumption I was having trouble pronouncing the name. 

An intense pressure slammed into my chest like a crushing weight.  

This Raskolnkov fellow sure is a piece of work.

A tidal wave of emotions surged to the surface, crashing over me. My body grew heavy and rigid like blocks of steel, pinned beneath the weight of anguish threatening to consume me. I took quick, shallow breaths, forcing myself to stay afloat, willing the flood to recede.

“Raskol —” My voice thinned and broke with impending tears. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to regain control of myself. Not here. Not now. Not like this. 

The rustling sound of movement. I could sense heads turning in my direction. 

Faint whispers. “Is she okay?”

“Cameron? Are you alright?” Mrs. Fischer asked. 

I clamped a hand over my mouth, smothering the sob expanding like a bubble caged in my throat. I bolted up from my seat and ran for the door, ignoring the confused looks and poorly concealed murmurs of concern.

You’re never going to finish that are you?

Some day, I will. A chapter a year and I’ll be finished before you know it.

I’ll practically be in college by then!

So, it’s a deal?

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Everything around me blurred as fresh, hot tears pooled behind my eyes, racing down my face. I clenched my teeth to quiet the sobs. The world tilted as I suddenly grew unsteady on my feet, in desperate need of a place to sit down. 

Coming up on the stairs to the upper floor, I ran up a few steps and took a seat at the landing. Heaving and sobbing hysterically, I shook out my wrists, willing myself to get a grip, terrified that I was rapidly losing control. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I furiously wiped away my tears so I could see the screen.

Who to text? 

Mira? We hadn’t talked since I blew up at her Saturday night. 

Jeremy? No, I couldn’t drag him into this. 

My grip on my phone slipped and I gasped as it clattered down the steps, sliding across the floor. 

“Fuck shit fuck!”

Hugging my knees and burying my head in my lap, I rocked back and forth, praying for this intense feeling of despair to subside. 

The faint sound of footsteps. They abruptly stopped just below me.

“Screen’s cracked.” 

My ears perked up at the familiar voice. I lifted my head. It took a second for my eyes to focus. Spencer stood at the base of the stairs holding my phone in his hand. 

I scoffed, glancing away with a sniffle. “What the hell do you want?”

“Mrs. Fischer wanted someone to check on you. I told her I’d make an attempt to look for you on my way to the bathroom.”

I rolled my eyes with a bitter laugh. “How noble of you to include me in there as an afterthought. You checked. I’m fine. You can leave.”

“Very convincing performance.”

“Seriously, Spencer, go away. I’m not in the mood.” Balancing my elbows on my knees, I hung my head, digging my fingers into my scalp. In my periphery, I watched him take two steps to lean against the railing. “God, can you please just leave?” I whined in aggravation. My heart wrenched, and any other words of protests died inside me on their way to my lips. 

I was too far gone to care how humiliating this was, falling apart in front of him, of all people. 

It didn’t matter. I was no longer in control of my body. Grief had snuck in and hijacked my nerves, rooted itself in my bone marrow. All I could do was bend to its will, heave and sob into the sleeve of my sweater until it retracted its claws from my lungs and granted me permission to breathe again. 

Slowly, gently, my sobs subsided into quiet hiccups. I folded my arms atop my knees and rested my cheek against them. “No one told me it would be like this.” I sniffled, my voice quiet and hoarse. “No one prepared me. After it happened, we just…never spoke about it. She just went on as if nothing had happened. Like if we ignored it, everything would go back to normal.” My forehead pinched in frustration, a stray tear tickling my skin as it streamed down the side of my nose before veering off course and dripping against my hand.  “I guess something inside of me wanted to believe that it was possible. That we…that I could be normal again. I’d give anything for that.”

“Seems like an awful lot of effort wasted pretending to be something you’re not.”

I furrowed my brows. Lifting my head, I regarded Spencer at the base of the stairs. 

He rested an elbow on the railing behind him, his thumb fiddling with the ring on his pointer finger. “If you ask me, it’s pretty overrated. Being normal. Whatever that means.”

I pursed my lips, then cleared my throat. “How do you figure that?”

“Normal people don't do extraordinary things. They don't make history. They're,” he shrugged, “forgettable.”

I perched my chin on my arms and stared down at him. “What if I don’t want to be remembered?”

He finally glanced up at me. “Sounds like a pretty sad existence.”

“Maybe. But can’t be any worse than the one I’m already living.”

He quirked a brow as if to say, Touche. 

I studied him. “You know, you’re not normal either.”

“Damn, really?” he said, in the world’s most disinterested tone. “What gave it away? The fact that I piss off everyone I talk to or that I stood in the middle of a hallway and cut my hand open?”

My head tottered from side to side. “You know what? I think it’s a tie.” I pressed the knuckle of my thumb against my lips to suppress a laugh. He shook his head, turning away just as the corner of his lips sloped upward in amusement. 

I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands. “My dad had to read Crime and Punishment for a lit class he was forced to take in college. He never finished it. Every time he picked it up, he’d only get a few pages in and give up. Years later, after my brother and I were born, Jeremy signed up to be the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz for a school play. A few weeks into rehearsals, he started to get bored of it and wanted to quit. My dad gave him this whole speech about how if he never finished anything he started people would assume they couldn’t rely on him. My brother, cleverly, asked my dad if he’d ever started something that he never finished. And he remembered his college lit class. He couldn’t come off as a hypocrite. He had to set an example for my brother. So he made a deal that he would finish Crime and Punishment if Jeremy saw the play through.”

 I chuckled. “Total idiot move. My brother only had to suffer for two more weeks in rehearsal. But my dad had to suffer through that book for years. A chapter a year. That was his goal. And he stuck to it.  Every December, I’d catch him up late in the middle of the night, trying to get a few pages in so he could keep his promise. That book practically lived on our coffee table. Every year the bookmark inched closer and closer to the end. We even made a game out of it, seeing who could come up with the most absurd things that would happen before Dad ever finished that book.” My breath hitched. I swallowed as fresh tears stung the back of my eyes. “I’d almost forgotten about that. And now all I can think about is…that bookmark. Staying on that same page where he left it last December. Forever.”

My voice cracked. Sniffling, I wiped at my wet cheeks in frustration. 

I blinked up at the fluorescent lights, willing the tears to stop. “It’s crazy. The different ways a person’s memory lingers. How just reading a single word in a book could make me wanna cry for days.” The ensuing silence made my skin crawl, suddenly painfully aware that maybe I had shared too much. I tugged my sleeves further over my hands. “Have you ever…lost anyone?”

His head shifted in my general direction, but he didn’t meet my eyes. 

I stiffened. “I’m sorry, that’s a really deeply personal question. You don’t have to answer that.”

He tilted his head back. To my surprise, he responded, “Yeah, I have.” I stayed quiet, giving him the space to speak, or to share in the quiet with me. “My mother.”

My heart pierced. “Oh my god. I’m so —”

“Don’t.” He cut me off. “It happened when I was really young. I don’t even remember her.”

I peered at him curiously, not understanding. “Even if you didn’t really know her, that doesn’t mean you can’t still mourn what’s missing. I know I would.” 

His head whipped up to me, eyes wide with the purest, unguarded wonder for the briefest moment. 

The shrill ring of the bell broke the spell. 

He turned away, withdrawing into himself once more. 

“Crap. I practically skipped out on the whole class. This isn’t gonna go over well.” 

“We should probably head back.” Head down, Spencer eased off the railing.

“You go ahead,” I said. He threw a curious look over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly keen on walking back into a room full of people who witnessed me having a mental breakdown.” He nodded in understanding. “But, thank you. For checking on me, and trying to comfort me…in your own way. You didn’t have to do all that.” Given how standoffish he’d been during our last few encounters, I began to wonder. “Why…did you?”

He stared down at his hands, idly twisting the silver ring on his forefinger. “I don't know," he said. "What’s the alternative?”

His response disarmed me as I slowly recognized my own words from our conversation at the Yard. A slow smile crept up my face. 

[thesinglesjukebox]

SHO MADJOZI - "CHALE"

With David, we revisit an old favorite...

[8.33]

Will Adams: Immensely fun, from the ensemble cast of sound effects -- mad scientist lightning zaps! big fat FM bass! gym class whistles -- to the call-and-response hook. Like any good party, it makes you lose track of time, and you don't even notice you've been grooving to the same song for six minutes. [8]

Crystal Leww: Where Tyla felt like a showcase for amapiano's potential to showcase something sexy, "Chale" is Sho Madjozi's showcase for the genre to show energy. This feels faster than amapiano really is -- I'm really struck by the fight atmosphere created during the chant of "You wasn't there when we was shooting in the gyyyyyyyym!" So much more charming coming from Sho than Fucking Drake. [6]

Frank Kogan: Sho Madjozi and the rest of the music are lifting each other (as opposed to back on "John Cena," when she and the beats were more in combat). The lyrics seem ambivalent about fame -- an ambivalence that was all over her last video, "Toro" -- but in this vid she's totally at ease with the fans, inviting them and their selfies into the dance. The sound of gqom/amapiano is a suspense-film buildup, rising tension yet a groove you can relax in forever, "Chalé" doing it about as well as it can be done. [9]

Nortey Dowuona: TBOY Daflame opens the song with an ominous synth riff, then punctuates it with bouncy log drums Sho rides expertly. When they take over the mix and even slide off key, Sho slips out, and as a soccer whistle enters the mix, tinny and shrill, it takes the center. The drums drop out except for the hihats, and Sho pops back up, her chorus bigger and prouder, a sharp aphorism from the Friggin Canadian suddenly alive and a gleeful taunt. "Chale" blurs until it becomes a brick, hard, solid, frozen in the mind. [10]

Tim de Reuse: Under the horror-show drone of a single hazy supersaw, she flexes, relaxes, paces, and chants, but only just enough, lest she appear to try too hard; her own voice is a sparse, percussive element, the rest of the space filled with a meaty, developing beat. An excellent strategy to self-celebration: make the party do the work. There's no other way you could get away with a track like this being six minutes. I could listen to a loop of that shuffling, syncopated bass-breakdown for sixteen. [8]

Micha Cavaseno: Nearly every Sho Madjozi single feels like the synths have to be close to as playful as her own rhymes while also seeming like they're lurking in an unwelcome manner. It's kind of astonishing as to how many songs a person can make that sound close to tricksy without the artist coming off as anything more than bright and sunshiney. Somehow you don't even think Tboy Daflame's freakout breakdown of subs and whines is anything more than fun & games in spite of its industrial calamity. Can't begin to describe how confounded that makes me, and how fun it is to be so taken aback. Maybe that's the point! [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Something I didn't know I needed: an amapiano track that functions as a contemporary American jock jam. [9]

Brad Shoup: I know it's provincial, but I keep trying to figure how the WNBA can put this into a commercial while ignoring the original Kobe joke. I love how Sho's blithe and kinetic, and how you can hear Tboy Daflame mashing the pads. [7]

Ian Mathers: There are a lot of different little sonic flourishes I love here, but the mad scientist electricity sound might be my favourite. Then there's the bits where it keeps sounding like a Squarepusher song is about to break out, and how good both the title refrain and the "shooting in the gym" bits are every time they come back. I was genuinely shocked to finally notice it's over six minutes long -- the whole thing practically flies by. You pull a salt and pepper diner on me with this one, and I wouldn't notice for a good long time. [9]

Katherine St Asaph: Infectious joy in a generous portion. [9]

Alfred Soto: The walls of this single keep expanding with each second, and the combination of ruminative, brassy, and mysterious that I love in good Neneh Cherry and Rosalía doesn't quit. When it yields to beeps and chirps, it reaches peak sublimity. No, I wasn't there when she was shooting in the gyyyyyyym. [8]

David Moore: 2023 was the year I managed to drag myself out of a nasty little pit I'd been growing uncomfortably accustomed to, and subsequently I started listening to and writing about music again. My lodestar was Sho Madjozi, an artist I had brief but serendipitous encounters with in the past through the Jukebox and then Tom Ewing's People's Pop Polls. On "Chale," she augmented the deluge of amapiano that I was starting to understand at a technical level with an infectious pop call-and-response chorus, inviting the whole world to the party with a personalized golden ticket. And there was Sho Madjozi herself in the center, incandescent, always on the verge of bursting out in laughter, and you could feel yourself breaking, too, like you're sharing an inside joke. I carried the "shooting in the gym" line like a talisman guarding me against the hundred leaden Drake songs I would encounter later, hiding like sneaky little fungus trolls in my playlists. The song came out and February, and I never stopped listening to it all year, beaming, hardly believing my luck: I was finally open to something wonderful, and this was the gift I received. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[troutfur]

Part 3 of FireBark Patrician Au:

The dynamic of Ash/Fern/Cloud is peak here. Ash/Fern already had the idea of Fire being their sire, and it's not like he denied spending time with Brindleface so, more patricians, more shenanigans.

Ashfoot "....." Barkface: Ash, please, I only brought one kit back" Ashfoot: "And it seems he's determined to expand that" Fireheart "I'm right here."

Fernpaw and Ashpaw are chill and go in line with the augar and patrician system, while Cloudpaw questions the hell outta the augar system, and Fireheart is like "Son, please, follow your siblings".

Cloudpaw does his nonsense, and Ashpaw is sent to Riverclan. (Rising Storm is Fireheart's stress).

Ashpaw and Fernpaw both have a time during Tigerclan, with the guy who killed their mom.

I do enjoy Littlecloud and Tawnypelt being arranged by Tigerstar, but there's also this idea of Fernpaw being yeeted over as Littlecloud's fiance, and Tigerstar is just ignoring it. Littlecloud ending up with two wives is funny to me, especially with a patrician's attitude towards multiple mates (FernTawny is a guilty pleasure ship)

If Tawnypelt does stick around, Ferncloud's kits of course, take precedence. (Though the deaths in TNP would probably mess that up and make way for Tawny's litter). Spiderleg, Birchfall, Foxleap, and Icecloud, are exciting choices for the augar. There's also the option of letting Shrewpaw, Larchkit, or Hollykit live.

There's also Fernpaw being sent back to Windclan. Don't know who could be her mate.

Squirrelpaw and Leafpaw are educated on "Don't be like your dad and grandpa" by Sandstorm and Ashfoot.

It would be funny if Cloudtail replaces Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw follows her cool older bro.

Not sure if LeafCrow would be needed, but it's probably wanted since Sand and Fire's marriage is....there. (Leafpool gets everything and has no consequences)

It would be hilarious, though, if Squirrelflight continued the illegitimate line. She has Juniper and Dandelion early (either from a fling with a rouge or someone from another clan). Ashfoot is like, "This never ends, does it"

Holly, Jay, and Lion are elitists who see themselves as higher than their cousins.

My favorite part is just how done with this all Ashfoot is, lmao. Girl can hardly believe all her dad is putting her through. Perhaps Squilf should go to WindClan just so she can do it right in her face.

I'm also a big fan of Leafpool getting everything she wants 100% consequence free, what an icon. And I love Jay/Holly/Lion being these arrogant, elitist brats. Peak characterization for them all, honestly. Their best Po3 moments are always when that character traits shows up.

OOOH! I like Fern/Little/Tawny a lot! Littlecloud like: "Well, I'm the ShadowClan patriarch no? I say this is fine." while his two GFs are cuddling with each other in the background.

Gosh, Ashfoot must be losing her damn mind, it's like nobody respects the patrician traditions around here anymore.

And finally, I really like the thought of RiverClan Ashpaw and ShadowClan Fernpaw facing The Horrors™ of TigerClan together. Poor little guys, at least they're going to be together when they're traumatized.

[gamerbearmira]

Labyrinth Au where Isabela wishes Mirabel away?

I assume your talking about the movie from '86 with David Bowie in it, so let's get into it!

Encanto x Labyrinth 1986 AU

In this AU, I decided to age them down a bit. Isabela is 16, and Mirabel is 10.

So Isabela wants to go out, take a break, you know. But, she's got to stay home at Casita, and help Mirabel. She doesn't want to, obviously.

Mirabel asks Isabela to help with one more thing, which is to help her read some book, and it just doesn't go over well. They get into a huge argument, and it's really just a screaming contest.

In a fit of anger and frustration wishes that Mirabel would be taken away.

A hop, skip and a jump later, Mirabel is just...gone. She disappears. Isabela starts freaking out, and is turning Casita upside down trying to find her before anyone else got home.

She's literally bawling, crying about how she didn't mean anything she said and that she'd help Mirabel with whatever she wanted, she just wanted her to come back.

She burst into the nursey and there, is a sleeping Mirabel in David Bowie's Jareth's arms.

Isabela demands to know who he is, and he ignores her, obviously. He gives Isabela an offer: To grant her wish to take Mirabel away and she'll never have to worry about her again.

Isabela obviously declines, she didn't really want her to go away. and Jareth is like:

"Ok then. But if you want her back you'll have to go through this entire maze in under 13 hours. If you don't...you'll never see her again."

Before she can even blink, she's trapped in a giant maze, and her Gift barely works; she can't use it to get out, and they're very limited.

But she doesn't have time to dwell on that! She knows she's only got so much time, so she's off.

As she makes her way through the labyrinth, she meets some other folks who at first freak her out, but later see that they mean to help her for the most part.

So, she has to go through a ton of things, but she has helped. On several occasions, she almost dies or loses track of time.

The more puzzles she solves and the closer she gets to the castle, the more she expands on her powers and discovers a ton of exotic stuff.

Eventually they all get to the castle and defeat the army, and she goes in alone, ready to brawl with Jareth.

Once again, he offers to take Mirabel away forever, and once, she declines and demands for him to give her back.

She then remembers the book and starts reciting the words, and then is stuck racking her brain for the last line.

Jareth gives her one last chancwe to grant her wish and then she finally remembers the line.

While throwing a ton of colored pollen in his face, she yells,

"You have no power over me!"

He's defeated, and Isabela starts bawling again and is thankful that she's ok. Mirabel is a bit confused, but she doesn't care; she's just happy that her sister doesn't hate her anymore.

Isabela says bye to her friends and leaves with Mirabel back to Casita.

Both leave the nursery hand in hand laughing while the other family members are coming back. Isabela is a bit confused at this because she was gone for at least 12 hours...but she doesn't mind. She's just glad she got her sister back.

_______

Decided to bullet point this so it's easier to follow! I will say that I've never seen this movie, only clips of it. So, I really based the plot off what I could find online. I know a whole lot is missing, but this is what I could get out of what I researched. But I'm happy with it and I hope you are too my beloved Asker!

---

Feel free to ask about My May-Exclusive Mermay AU, Mamabel, Papatonio, Housebroken, or any other AU you find on this blog!

I also take art suggestions for all AU's on this blog, including Cocooned!

If you have an AU idea, I will expand on it like I did here, so send those in too if you want!

[kiame-sama]

hello! not really a request, but i was wondering if you have any tips on writing yanderes/your thought process while writing your works? i really love how you write yanderes and don’t know where to really start (^ ◇^；) you can ignore this ask if it’s too much!

My thought process is a strange one, lovie. I'm a maladaptive day dreamer so I often just space out and random thoughts from that usually are how my yandere ideas begin. I have a note app on my phone and it is FILLED with random ideas/ plot points. Some have been there for literal years (a big group of unfinished Selkie fics across multiple fandoms are just hanging out in there)

If I have a certain yandere in mind with the idea, I put their name at the top and see if I can expand ideas or even fit them together. Like having a pocket full of quotes and seeing which ones fit who. Sometimes I'll get a random idea for a BNH Quirk, or a HxH nen ability, and I'll write it down so I can come back to it later or see which character would be most likely to be interested in a darling with said ability.

Or I think of a character and build from there.

~~~~~~~~

For example:

I want to write something about Sesshomaru.

Ancient japan, but I am a present day human who does NOT live in Japan. Fine, reader becomes transfer student and is shadowing/living with Kagome. Both get pulled into the bone eater's well and are now in ancient Japan.

Yay! But he doesn't like humans other than Rin.

Fine, reader travels with Kagome and is washing her clothes in the river when she hears Rin scream while she is running from demons. Reader goes to help the girl and is attacked, basically sacrificing herself for Rin. This sacrifice (paired with the demon horde) creates a new Shikon Jewel. Rin is understandably upset someone just died for her and cries. Here comes Sesshomaru who mercifully revives reader using Tensaiga.

But wait! Shikon Jewel formed and that took reader's soul!

Fine, reader has no soul and therefore takes a nearby fox demon's soul instead and becomes a half-demon when revived due to demon soul. An empty vessel that now lives. Memories and personality are still there, humanity is mostly gone. Kinda like how Kikyo was a clay vessel until revived with an ounce or two of Kagome's soul. Jewel makes half-demon reader full demon!

Now demon, but what kind? Eh, fox demon soul. Fox demon. Works for me. Nine tail! Big fluffy!

Fox demon revived by Dog demon and encouraged by Rin, join Sesshomaru's party. Jaken complains about a fox in the party but shuts up because Rin is happy. Reader blames Kagome for dragging reader into all of this.

Dramatic questions when they finally meet again!

"You didn't even look for me! Doesn't my family deserve a chance to mourn? To know I died? Doesn't my life matter too?"

Note: Kagome DID go look. Couldn't find reader and blames herself for getting reader dragged to feudal era Japan. Every word is a knife that hurts more as reader speaks and blames Kagome for more.

Inuyasha wants new jewel and Kagome can see/sense it. Oh, but wait, reader is demon now! Lash out foxy-fox! Kagome and friends depart because reader demon abilities are a bit over powered due to new jewel and controlled by reader's angry emotions (instinct comes out in life or death battle, blinded by rage, one can only act on instinct).

Keep traveling with Sesshomaru and become a 'mom' figure for Rin. Sesshomaru is her dad figure, so reader can be mom!

More danger from wolf demons going after the jewel. Wolves are chasing the fox reader, Sesshomaru actually intervenes and saves reader.

"Foolish woman! Don't you know how to defend yourself?"

Angry because scared of losing reader, but will never tell. Reader was scared, not mad, so reader kinda forgot that she is a demon and a scary one at that.

Foxes have heats, dogs do too. Males have ruts. Sesshomaru has a rut when reader goes into heat. Guess it is time for Sesshomaru to claim his mate.

Fox demon? Fox terminology; tod, vixen, skulk, burrow, den.

~~~~~~~~

Bones outline for story, fill in the meat and descriptions, you got yourself a good one! Post and say "screw it!" And hopefully people like it.

That is my usual approach, but sometimes inspiration smacks me like a sack of bricks. I'm maybe/probably gonna write the full story of the word blurb above.

A few Rules I follow;

NEVER use same descriptive word twice in same paragraph or sentence, use another word with similar meaning. (Sad; melancholy, despondent, grief stricken, numb, sorrow, woe)

Dictionary and Thesaurus are friends. (As a kid, I sat and read a dictionary because I could. It has helped amazingly).

Try to not start two sentences in the same paragraph with the same word.

Paragraphs can be one sentence or millions of sentences! Split into new paragraph based off of idea or focus shift.

Purple prose is fine, don't let anyone else tell you it isn't. (Locks of ebony/ waterfall of tears/ waves of emotion) Find descriptive words for colors, even those weird funky colors. Life mimics nature and nature contains life. Immerse yourself and the reader with your words. 5 senses. (Maybe 6 if you want)

"Dialogue chunks should be together, easier than trying to write description between every line of dialogue for every sentence."

Put warnings for content as you write at list up top. Add as needed.

Practice! (Even if it is only in little notes on phone. These can be edited until you are pleased)

Why? Why not. Who will stop you other than you?

Don't follow grammar rules or sentence structure? Go for it! Commit to your style and try new styles. Who are others to tell you not to? It is your work, you decide! People can complain all they want, they are not the author, you are! You make your choices, not them!

If you don't like what you wrote, save to edit but don't beat yourself up for it. Write what you like and what makes you happy. What you didn't like prior may fit beautifully into a different piece.

[whatanoof]

I have a few corruption ideas in mind for cal and I'm just. Okay so like-- reader grinding on/teasing him, maybe while they're hiding in a cave or an empty room in an inquisitor base-- purposefully to the point where he can't hold himself back and he just cums right then and there 👀

Or-- reader accidentally projecting some very, very dirty thoughts towards Cal (bonus points if it's virgin!/inexperienced!Cal), and his reaction to said thoughts ;3c

Don't feel obligated to turn these into full fics or anything tho!! I just like to share my thoughts w ppl and see what they think abt it 🥰💛

SKDJFO THESE ARE GOLD I LOVE THEM.

Oh babe, this isn’t an obligation. This is my PLEASURE. Don’t mind me with my slightly force sensitive reader learning how to weaponize her inexperience against her very innocent boyfriend.

A/N: These turned out a lot more fluffy than I had in mind at first, and probably more so than you had in mind, anon. I'll to expand a little more on these, but I wanted to give you what I have now. More to come!

NSFW TOWARDS THE END 18+

You were two weeks into your relationship the first time it happened. It’s early morning on Bogano, the rare off-day where Cal doesn’t have to take a quest anywhere. The grass glistens in the early morning light, dew droplets sending sparkles of light through the air. You sit in the field, watching the sunrise with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a steaming mug of caf clenched tightly in your hands, gracing your morning with its fragrant smell. Happy chirps and beeps echo through the stillness of the morning as BD-1 scampers around the field, chasing a butterfly that’s been disturbed from its early morning food quest. It’s so domestic that it almost hurts. It reminds you of life before the Purge, when everything was better. Except, now you have Cal.

Not beside you of course, he’s actually the reason that you’re even awake to see the dawn. He stands stock-still in the grass several meters in front of you. He’s relaxed, breathing in the crisp dawn air, eyes closed against the rays of light beginning to conquer the horizon line.

Cere stalks back and forth in front of him, “Focus, Cal.” She hefts a round fruit in her hands about as big as her head. “Sense the life around you. What do you feel?”

Cal pivots slowly on the spot until he’s facing you. “I feel you. And her.” His brow is creased in that one spot between his eyebrows. You want to kiss it. 

“Not us, Cal. The life all around us. There’s a reason I chose Bogano for this lesson.” Cere’s disapproving tone is a common staple around here. The crew has learned to accept it as a sign of affection.

“A bogling. On the ship. It’s looking for food.” Cal says.

You smile. The newest addition to the crew has been nothing but a joy to you and a pain in the ass to Greez. It’s always stealing his favorite snacks and making a mess of his ship, if you count it’s tiny nest in the corner of the kitchen to be ‘a mess’. 

“Better. Expand, Cal.”

Then you feel something at the edge of consciousness, something familiar and strange all at the same time. It wasn’t so much a thing, but a feeling. A presence. If you had to describe it in words, you couldn’t. But if you had to try, it would be in swaths of color and emotions that blend and swirl in the invisible eye of your mind. It’s warm, reds and oranges and yellows fluttering against each other, tinged around the edges by blue, the same blue as Cal’s saber. Cal. The presence is undeniably Cal, the warm colors echoing back to his fiery spunk and stubborn affection. 

Your eyes open. When had they closed? Cal is right there, his hand stretched out in your direction. Cere watches cautiously, eyes flicking between you and him. You see her reluctance to interrupt the moment. 

As if called back to the ground by your distraction, Cal opens his eyes with a soft gasp. The presence retreats, fading from your short grasp as you try to chase it. Your gaze bores into Cal, trying to focus your mind on reaching back out to him. But you can’t.

Cere speaks, “That’s enough Force training for today.” She tosses the previously forgotten fruit directly at Cal’s head. “Think fast. Form V today.”

His lightsaber materializes into his hand, cleanly slicing the offending object out of the air in a single smooth motion. But Cal doesn’t hesitate for a single moment, flowing through different saber forms without difficulty. Cere calls a variety of commands, and each gives way to another attack by Cal. The saber moves like it is an extension of his body, like a deadly serpent that flickers in and out of the air.

This continues for a long time, long enough that you have time to finish off your caf. The drink warms your insides. Watching Cal working so hard to strengthen his connection to the Force warms your heart. Examining the definition of his shoulders and his muscular torso warms other places. Your eyes drift to his ass, emboldened by the illusion of ignorance. You allow your mind to drift. 

You and Cal started dating two weeks ago. There was an irresistible pull between the two of you, to the point where the crew forced you two to acknowledge it. Cal had been cautious, but permission from Greez and a blessing from Cere was all the encouragement he needed, because as he had said so eloquently, “Like you. I like you. A lot.”

And you like Cal. A lot. Nothing physical had happened beyond a single makeout session and more cuddle sessions than you could count. You know that he’s unsure about sex, and because of that you’re more than willing to wait for him to be ready. But that doesn’t mean you can’t look and daydream. 

Your gaze drags over his body, imagining for a moment how it would feel. What it would be like, to be allowed close to him to make him feel good. What his skin would taste like, how your fingers would feel threaded through his bright hair. The sounds that he would make as you go down on him. 

A gasp from the field snaps you out of the daydream. Cal’s facedown on the ground; all you can make out of him from here is the fringe of his poncho and his shock of red hair contrasting against the green environment of Bogano. You stand, hurrying over as Cere helps him up.

“Cal?” She's concerned, you can see it in her eyes even if she won’t verbalize it. You’re worried too. In all of your time aboard the Mantis, you’d seen clumsy Cal maybe once before, and that was because he was goofing off in an attempt to make Greez laugh.

He doesn’t respond to Cere. His gaze snaps up to you, and he says your name urgently. Your brow creases, “What?”

His face is flushed red, and he’s panting as he shakily kneels in the grass. “I think you’re Force-sensitive.”

---

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be easy!” He looks so earnest, like a kicked puppy dog. You avert your eyes. Looking too long means that you will fall prey to the terrible innocent eyes.

“I said no. What’s so hard to understand about that?” You cross your arms tighter over your chest. You know that arguing is futile. Cal is the most stubborn person you know, even more so than Greez and you have witnessed the intense food aggression.

“Babe, it’s one rock. You’re not going to get hurt.”

“I might when it’s going to be flying at my face!” Cere had insisted that you learn to control your Force sensitivity, at the very least so that you could learn how to guard your mind from others. But, she placed Cal in charge of your training. Merrin’s Force abilities were nothing close to what you could hope to accomplish, and you believe Cere’s exact words were, “It will be good for Cal to learn just how irritating training a Padawan can be.”

And so your Jedi boyfriend became your Jedi Master. It was quickly determined that your Force sensitivity was nothing close to the level of Jedi. Your talents extended to thought projection, minor thought detection abilities, and, as Cal had been so excited to learn, basic telekinesis. 

That had been an accidental discovery, actually, brought out of a session wrestling with the Mantis’s control board wiring. You’d lost concentration for a split second, and in a flash of light and electricity, you were nursing a burnt finger. Merrin was attracted to your area by the flash of light and pained cry, and was incredibly surprised to find you with various medical supplies hovering in front of your face while you soaked and bandaged your finger. And she’d snitched on you.

So now you’re on a no name forest planet, facing down your boyfriend who’s threatening to throw a rock at your head in order to force out your hidden telekinesis, because as soon as Merrin witnessed the feat, you’d lost all voluntary control over it.

“Cal, this is a bad idea.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“Yes. Leave me alone. I can shield my thoughts now, that’s all I wanted to do.”

“Oh come on. It doesn’t excite you even a little?”

It does, but not enough that you’d be willing to have a rock thrown at your face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, “I’m going back to the ship.”

But as soon as you turn, something sparks on the edge of your conscious mind, and you whirl with an outstretched hand. The rock sails past your fingers and bonks you on the forehead. You clap a hand over your head as pain throbs at the point of contact. “Ow!”

You whip your head up and glare at Cal, who’s standing there, mouth agape and eyes so wide that you can see the whites from here. When he meets your eyes, he shrinks back and turns to run.

“Cal Kestis you are going to pay for that!” You lunge after him, nearly tripping over a root as you scramble after your soon-to-be dead boyfriend. 

He disappears around the corner of the clearing with you hot on his heels. Trees tower over your head in every direction. The only thing interrupting the perfect vision of nature is the dorsal fin of the Mantis spearing up into the sky, guiding you to safety.

And Cal’s running away from it, leading you further into the forest. Branches whip at your face, but you can’t pay attention to them when you’re focusing harder on not losing Cal as he ducks and weaves through the foliage with all of the ease of a jungle cat. Then you round a corner, and he’s gone. 

You’re gasping for breath as you stumble to a stop in the midst of the forest. Damn it Cal. You want to rest, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow Cal to get away with this. He knows that if he gets away now, you’re probably going to be cooled down by the time he gets back to the Mantis, and you can’t have that. You tamp down your anger. Gather yourself. Feel the world around you. Now hold it at arms’ length. You bring your mental shields up slowly, guarding yourself and calming your racing heart through a few deep breaths. Then, you let the barriers down, allowing the world to rush back into your mind. You exhale slowly, combing through the sensations like Cal had taught you, searching for the presence that had become so familiar over the past few months. There!

A flash of warm colors in the midst of the muted Force signatures of plants.

You whirl, scanning the tree branches above you in time to see Cal make a break for it. He’s overhead, about ten feet off of the ground and running along a tree branch so gracefully that it seems like he’s skimming across the air. He’s heading for a vine. ‘Sneaky little--’

‘Sneaky little what?’

You gasp as he teases back through the Force. Your brow sets in determination, and you narrow your gaze on the vine that he’s reaching out for. You settle on it, and reach out. Your consciousness brushes the vine, pulling it just out of Cal’s reach. His outstretched fingers close just short of the vine, and he loses his balance.

He hits the ground with an oof and you plant a foot on his chest. “Sneaky little laserbrain.”

“Babe you did it!” He grins up at you, unrepentant and ruffled from the mad dash through the forest, “Don’t you love your amazing boyfriend who just helped you to learn another Force trick?”

You smile, “I do. But--” you press harder on his chest with your boot, “--you’re still going to pay for that.”

He groans, “I just paid by falling out of a tree. How else would I make it up to you?”

Without your bidding, ideas leap to your mind. “Oh, I have some.” Cal, between your legs and making you cum with only his mouth. You, on your knees for Cal against one of these trees. Riding Cal back on the Mantis, topless and gasping his name as he brushes up against that one spot inside of you that makes you sing. You don’t project them, but you’re aware that your shields aren’t up, and Cal’s Force presence is hovering on the edge of yours.

Cal’s face reddens as he gapes up at you. All of this time, and he still gets worked up at the bare idea of you naked. It’s a little cute. He springs to his feet, “Let’s go back to the ship.”

You hum, looking at him thoughtfully, ‘We don’t need to go back to the ship for a couple of those.’

He chokes, and you smile as you grab the front of his poncho and back him against a large tree. This is going to be fun.

[magalidragon]

dragon in a waterfall | a “bird on a wire” drabble

I don‘t know where this came from but I wrote it very fast at lunch. It is a missing piece to “bird on a wire” aka the Princess and Bodyguard fic. It is vaguely referenced in one of Dany’s thoughts in that fic. This is ANGST. Apologies for boo boos.

There was a ringing in her ears when she flicked her eyelids up, confused, wondering how come an alarm was going off-- shouldn't it be the middle of the night?  Was she sleeping this entire time?  Perhaps she was dreaming?

She tried to sit up, her chest aching, pressed on concrete, her evening gown torn from her shoulder and the skirt ripped in several layers around her knees and feet; she was really cold.  She never was cold; dragonblood, everyone joked, kept her running hot even if the frigid climes of the far North.  Except now she shivered, head to toe, her skin pebbled to gooseflesh.  The ringing was getting worse, when she tried to sit up, and she blinked again, her cheek scratched, and her side damp, like she'd landed in a puddle of water.

And she realized she was not dreaming.

Oh no, this was a nightmare.

"Jon!" she screamed, her throat vibrating from the exertion, the volume in her scream.  It came from her collapsed lungs, expanding them painfully, the horror at what had just happened settling into her memory, returning from the blacked out moment on the concrete.

She tried to stand up, but Barristan was grabbing her around hte middle, liftin gher bodily from the ground; her shoes were missing.  Her bare feet scrabbled on the cobblestones, unable to gain traction, her arms flailing, scratching at the bodyguard, refusing to listen to his commands.  Viserys was screaming for her, from the backseat of an SUV, before the door slammed on him, and she thought she heard her mother sobbing for her as well, and where was Rhaegar?  Did it even matter?

Nothing mattered.

None of her family mattered to her, because she had realized now what had happened, and why there was a damp spot on her side, and her body bruised and battered, and the chaos swarming them.  She could only see, tunnelvision, everything black on the edges of her sight, the figure lying in the center of the courtyard, blood pouring underneath him, Ser Arthur hovering over him, staunching bleeding with the shawl that had formerly been around her shoulders, and now was trying to keep blood in someone's body.

All she could see now was a hand, off to the side, fingers unmoving; fingers that had been in her palm only moments before, that had squeezed her hand deftly, when no one was looking, before she entered the Casterly Rock gardens for that evening's outdoor gala, to celebrate Rhaegar's coronation, while on a tour of the Westerlands.  It was never meant to be, it seemed someone was unhappy with that idea, and they'd decided to slip in under the guise of a waiter?  A driver?  Another bodyguard?  She did not know, nor did she care.

BEcause whoever it was had called her name and she turned, and then there was a shocking pain in her side and then she went flying on the ground, because Jon had lunged in front, throwing her behind him, and taken the hits instead.  At least, that's what she had envisioned in her mind, everything blurry and fuzzy, but it was making sense.

And he was lying there, dying on the stones, and she was somewhere else, ignoring Barristan as he tried to wrap a bandage around her, in the back of an SUV, while she clawed at the glass window, the door handle, screaming and desperate, not feeling anything but the need to get to him.

"Jon, Jon, Jon!" she repeated, delirious, screaming, her throat hoarse.  She spun on Barristan, trying to crawl over him, over Ser Gerold, who was barking at the chauffeur to get them to the pre-arranged hospital and ensure there was a full detail there.  "Let me out ! I'm fine!  Let me out! I need Jon!"

"Princess you're injured!"

"No I'm not!" she howled, evne though her hands were red, staining the inside of the SUV, and her head was swimming, everything staring to get fuzzy again.  Gerold was saying she was in shock, she had to stop, but she kicked at him when he moved to wrap her in a blanket, and continued to sob for Jon.

If he dies, I will die too, she thought, the last image before she passed out, of his face, before he'd pushed her, before everything went to the seven hells, when for a brief moment, they were a couple entering a party, to enjoy an evening, to dance, and maybe kiss under the stars.  His shy smile, tugging at the corners of his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling, so very handsome in his black suit, and even with that wiggly little wire that came out of his ear and threaded down his neck and arm to the microphone in his hand.  She jokingly called it the Sea Snake.  She'd given it a name, after the famous Sea Snake himself, saying "Corlys must be with us today" when he had to wear it around her.

He had been smiling because she whispered to him that they were practicing for a real date, one day, and it had been joyful, but sad too, because they didn't know when or if or how they could ever have such a day.  A day where he was Jon and she was Dany, and they were just out having fun.  They were strangers in a bar, they met, and they went back to his place or hers, and then coffee the next morning.

It was easy to pretend, because she knew they couldn't have it the other way.

Not yet.

They were working their way there, they were going to try, one day, but not yet, because things were too new with Rhaegar as king and Viserys was sick and too many changes at once were too much for her family to handle.

And now it was all gone.

She was going to lose him, before she could ever really have him how she wanted.

Stolen kisses in alcoves, disappearing in crowded dance floors in illegal clubs, and running into the night from hidden passageways, with sometimes months in between each.  She lived in a constant state of missing him, aching for him, even when he was inches away from her, always there, her protective shadow.

He had his hair back that night, like he did on big events, to keep it from his face, and she'd joked in the car over-- it had just been them-- that he looked like an aging hippie.  He teased her that he thought he looked like a young intellecutal.  "You, an intellectual?" she joked, kissing his knuckles.  "The man who has comic books on his nightstand?  Hardly."

"I'll have you know those comics are pretty deep, talking about man's fight against nature and his own inner self."

"Jon, it's about a cartoon Night's Watch ranger."

"Exactly, he's fighting against his internal demons because why else would he join the NIght's Watch?"

"You did."

"Aye," he admitted.  He turned to her, and stole a quick kiss, only because the partition between them and the driver was up.  He whispered, earnest, squeezing her hand hard.  "And it brought me to you."

She brushed her hand over his cheek, regretfully sighing when the car came to a stop.  "Hold my hand before we go in?  Just for a moment?  We can be on a first date."

"Save me a dance," he murmured, kissing her again, chaste, breaking away quickly to step out of the car first, to run around and hold open the door, and she blinked back tears, and plastered her smile on, breaking her cheeks and forcing it back, so when she climbed out of the car, waving at the crowds that had gathered outside Casterly Rock to see the royal family and other assorted celebrities enter for the grand event, she would be envied and beloved.

Daenerys, Princess Royal, didn't everyone want to be her?  She was so beautiful, so famous, so lucky.  She could have anything she wanted-- a horse, cars, planes, a castle even, and she never had to work, never had to give up anything for it, because that's the type of life she could have.

And they never knew that the glow to her cheeks was from sobbing before they left the hotel, the shine in her eyes was unshed tears, and her heart was breaking, each and every single day.

The Dragon Queen, the tabloids called her, even if she was but a princess.

She dreamed now, a world that was not her own, and perhaps she was dead.  Was this the afterlife, have I been burned like my ancestors before me, she wondered, drifting through trees, the ground soundless under her bare feet.

And she emerged in a beautiful clearing, with waterfalls in a pool, crashing against stones, jagged and lurching upwards from the ground.  It was breathtaking, snowcapped mountains surrounding the valley, hiding it from anyone who dared to enter such a peaceful sanctum.  She smiled, her fingers dragging along some flowers bunched around the rocks near the pool-- blue winter roses.  They smelled so sweet, i twas like they were emerging from a wall of ice.

She tugged on one, and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the lovely aroma.

"They make me think of you."

Turning at his voice, she was not startled-- of cours ehe was here with her.  He approached slowly, not in the all black suit he'd been wearing or the black uniform he favored or even his clubbing attire of black leather and boots.  He was relaxed, just like her, barefoot and free, white button down and loose gray pants.  She noted she was in a white dress; are we getting married, she briefly wondered.

She let him take the flower from her fingers, reaching to tuck it into her hair, his hand dragging down her jaw and to her throat, his finertips alighting on her pulse.  "Jon," she gasped, hands upon his chest.  "Is this just a dream?"

"If it is a dream, then it is a good dream," he answered, lifting her lips to his, kissing against the backdrop of the falls.  She moaned softly, returning the kiss, and clutched at his shirt, desperate for it, praying it would never end.  Except it did, and he broke away, the side of his nose against hers, breaths mingling.  "Blue winter roses are strong and survive in the harshest of winters, like you do Dany.  My dragon."

She blinked away tears.  "Are we dead?"

"No."

"Then where are we?"

He glanced around, smiling and shrugged.  "Appears we are in the North...I remember this place.  I came here as a boy."

"It's beautiful."

"So are you."

She wanted to stay there forever; she knew it couldn't be.  "We could stay a thousand years," she said, watching his face, the happiness there and then the sadness, his gray eyes clouding over.  "No one would ever find us."

"We'd be pretty old."

THen we'd be pretty old, we could grow old together, you and I, away from it all.  She allowed him to embrace her, kissing her, and swallowing her up, the dream falling away, like water trickling through her fingers.

And she woke up, lying in a bed, harsh hospital lights on her, and a tube in her nose.  She was stiff, cold, awkward.  The linens were scratchy and they'd placed her in a gown.  She had an IV in her arm, which she ignored, turning and struggling, her strength returning.  An alarm beeped, like the ringing in her ears from after hte attack, and someone  yelled that the Princess was awake.  I have a name, she thought, her feet hitting the cold title floor.  She whipped off the oxygen tubing around her ears and nose, fighting at the IV line connected to a stand next to her.

A door burst open, her mother rushing in-- still in her deep plum evening gown-- with a doctor and a nurse and Barristan.  "Your Highness!" Barristan exclaimed.  "Please, the doctor did not want you moving."

"Daenerys, darling, please listen to them," her mother called, grabbing for her hand.  "You need to rest, you've been hurt!  Oh gods, please just stay put for once in your life, stop trying to run away!"

No!

"Jon!" she exclaimed, pushing at them.  "I need to see him!  Is he dead?"

Barristan shook his head and Rhaella pushed her towards the bed in the brief moment she paused, focusing on the old guard.  "No, he's in surgery, please, do not worry about..."

"I have to worry about him!" She knocked away a nurse who was moving for her IV, after the doctor said something about a sedative.  "Don't you drug me!  I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, and I am the Dragon's Daughter and you will not stop me from seeing him!"  All the strength inside of her raged, fire flaring from her eyes and heaving in her chest.  She did not care.  "He is my Jon, he took a knife for me, and I will not be pushed aside like a simpering little girl!"

They didn't even tell her what had happened ot her; she guessed from the bandages wrapped around her middle, the ache there, that hte knife had swiped her, but not enough to do significant damage, as she could walk and talk.  They all stared at her, stunned, but she didn't care, pushing Barristan aside and struggling towards the door.

Rhaella drew her shoulders back, voice cold.  "Get her a chair, at least a robe, she will not be stopped."  She smirked.  "I know my daughter."

"But Your Highness," a doctor began, but silenced upon the glare Rhaella shot him. He nodded meekly and hurried out.

She collapsed into a wheelchair, head in her hands, and allowed htem to wrap her in a red robe that had bene in her hotel room last she remembered.  Time meant nothing to her; it could be days later, or hours, and she grabbed at Missandei-- her best friend of course had managed to get in-- when they went down the hall, seeing her urnning towards them from an open set of elevator doors.

Missandei cried, grabbing for her.  "Oh gods Dany!  I was so scared!  You're alright?"

"Jon was stabbed," she said hollowly.

Understanding, Missandei pushed away a nurse and took the chair, pushing her where they led, into an elevator, up a few flors, and down some hallways.  They pushed her into a room, dark, only lights from the operating suite it flanked, and she realized it was where the doctors and nurses scrubbed up before surgery.  She forced herself to her feet, grabbing the edge of hte window, staring at the activity going on in front of her.

Doctors and nurses flurried about the prone body on the table, bloodied materials tossed on the floor around their feet and tray tables at their elbows.  There were flashes of metallic objects as they worked, and monitors seemed to be hanging and standing everywhere, she couldn't focus on one or the other.  Some had lines going across them, numbers blinking and flashing.  Others magnified the activity going on on the table, all red and confusing.

There was something pulsing in the doctor's palm and she realized in shock it was his heart.  They were fixing his heart, stitching it together.

But that's my job.

That's my heart too.

"Is he going to be okay?" she croaked.

Someone said that he'd been stabbed seven times, one straight to the heart, and the doctors were doing all they could.  Her mother lightly touched her elbow, whispering.  "He did his job Dany.  I know you were close darling, but he did his job.  He protected you."

No we weren't just close. It seemed Barristan had realized that, even if her mother hadn't yet.  They would soon, because she wasn't going to stop.  She whispered, shaking her head.  "He saved me, Mother.  he didn't protect me, he saved me."  He saved me in all the ways you can be saved.  So many, many ways.

"We need to get you back to your bed," Barristan murmured.

She shook her head.  "No, no I am staying here.  I'm not leaving and when he's ou tof surgery, yo uwill bring me to his bedside."

"Dany," Rhaealla began.

She whirled on her mother, shouting.  "No!  No Mother, I love him, don't you get it?  He's not just my bodyguard, he is the love of my life and he's lying there on a table, bleeding for me!"  Her shoulders shook, the wails taking over her, and she released everything she'd been holding in, unable to take it, and fell into the chair, no longer able to speak, because she missed him and she hurt everywhere.

It was out, the secret was out.

Months and years of hiding, gone now, and she didn't care.

Time passed; she knew htey drugged her and she drifted away into a dreamless state, and came in and out, noticing that Rhaegar was there and then her mother, and she caught snippets of them saying Viserys had gone catatonic and was being taken back immediately to Summerhall for treatment.  She thought she heard Rhaegar say something about "if he pulls through we need to move him" and her mother saying that "it wasn't time for that."

She wanted to be out somewhere, in a club dancing, partying, and she wondered where Drogo wa shaving one of his latest raves and bashes.  It would be fun, she thought, tasting the alcohol on her tongue, her nose burning from smoke.  She came to again and this time there was no one in the room except Barristan, who ordinarily was her mother's guard, and for some reason was here with her.

"Barristan," she mumbled, blinking; her eyelids felt like there were weights on the lashes.

Barristan smiled and touched her hand, whispering.  "Princess."

Understanding, she tried to sit up, panicked.  "Jon, is Jon..."

"He's out of surgery.  Come Princess.  Before your brother finds out."  Barristan helped her from bed, into a wheelchair, and bundled again.  He took her from her room, in a fancy private suite, and said something to the other Kingsguard, so many of them flitting about, in their black suits with white shields on the lapels.

In another wing, in a smaller room, with a window looking from the hall into it, he pushed her towards a bed, where Jon was lying, his chest marred with bandages and tubing, arms locked down from wires and monitors.  There was a tube for oxygen around his nose, but no ventilator, and monitors beeping erratically around him.  Barristan leaned down, whispering.  "His heart rate has been...worrying.  It keeps dropping.  They needed to shock him twice."

Tears did not fall now.  She pushed herself forward, towards the bed, her limbs clumsy.  He was so still.  He was sleeping, but it was scary, because his skin was ashy and his cheeks gaunt-- had he always been so thin?  She traced his collarbone, where a few lines went into his skin, and along his pulse.  It thrummed under her touch.  There were dark bruises under his eyes and his dark curls were lank, pushed under his head and out of hte way.  She noted that his muscles were hidden under bandages, but he was strong, in so many ways, and he would recover.

He had to.

She touched his hand, sliding hers into it, and held tight.  It was limp against her.  "Jon please," she whispered, squeezing.  She leaned in, lips against his ear, begging.  "Please I need you.  I love you.  Come back to me."

Careful of everything, she crawled onto the bed next to him, her head beside his on the pillow, and she ignored Barristan trying to say that maynbe it wasn't good for her to be there, they should get her back to her room.  No, I'm not leaving. She kissed the corner of his mouth, sighing.  "Jon, come back to me, I love you, you can't leave me.  You're mine."

A monitor beeped.  She darted her eyes towards her, the heartrate increasing, and then steadying.  She knew it would.  He could hear her; he was in that clearing somewhere, waiting for her, and she closed her eyes, to fall asleep and go visit him there.

"Da....da..."

The raspy sound kept her from falling into that world, her eyes springing open.  "Jon?" she breathed, looking down at his face.

His eyelids fluttered, cracked lips trembling.  "Da...ny."

"Jon, oh gods Jon," she cried, kissing him, holding his face in her hands.  "It's me, I'm here."

His eyes opened, giving her a glimpse of the cool gray, and his lips pulled back, barely.  "Da-ny," he slurred.  "Love..."

"I love you, I know, don't talk.  Don't talk, I'm here."

They would deal with the repercussions later, the fallout from the attack, from everyone knowing.  Of course they knew now, because she thought she saw Arthur in the hallway which meant Rhaegar was nearby, and when her brother the King discovered that his sister the Princess, was in love with her bodyguard, it would have to end.  It would be too difficult to maintain impartiality, it would look wrong, and it could never happen.  He could not be her match, because she was the Princess of hte Seven Kingdoms and he was just Jon.

She didn't care right now.

It would fall out the way it would fall out.  They could deal with it then.

Right now, he was alive and in her arms, and that was how it should be.

[suffering-with-fiery]

Rune translations and Bottom theories (I did my best!) (: It's long! I mean REALLY REALLY REALLY LONG!!!! You've been warned. (Potential TWs below the cut) yeah Hyoga doesn't have a good time here.

I should probably start calling Hyoga "Hyouga" instead since I'm pretty sure it's spelled with a 'U'... but I probably won't. Apologies.

Bottom English translation by Tackmyn Y! (I can't speak Japanese, again, apologies, though I was able to make my own version of Autophagy)

Potential TWs (I dont want to harm anyone by going on this rant): Autophagy (medical terms), nightmares, demons tormenting a guy, Hyoga being unhealthy in more ways than one, mentions of death/murder, self esteem issues, mentions of destructive behavior, manipulation, violence.

Yeah, my boy Hyoga ain't having a good time in this theory.

I feel the need to clarify that this is all speculation. So uh. Everything here is just what I've been thinking about since I hopped into this rabbit hole.

Sinfan (I'm not sure what order they go in, it's quite hard to tell):

["Death"

"I"

"Revive"

"Spirit"

"I"

"Something with shape"]

I'm not fully sure what "something with shape" means, but there's a possibility that Sinfan could be referring to Hyoga, (a doll/wax figure) or maybe that Sinfan needs something with a shape to be able to exist. Sinfan could need a vessel to stay on the mortal plain and go undetected while staying alive.

Sinfan needs a vessel. And with that thought, it launches into indecipherable theory crafting.

Hyoga summoned Sinfan when he was 12 years old. Thinking he found a vessel, he called upon Pabometh, another grey demon, to help torment Hyoga so the two could get their wish.

Hyoga, at the time, is young, dumb and susceptible to manipulation, meaning it could be easy for Sinfan to grasp the situation with an iron grip which follows Hyoga into adulthood.

"Revival" could also be referring to "Rebirth," symbolized by a butterfly. It could also mean that Sinfan/Pabo has the powers to revive people. Maybe as a last resort if they need it.

In Hiiragi Kirai's album trailer on Youtube, Hyoga shows up in a scene with 'D' and 'B' in calligraphy on each cheek. They could mean "Death" and "Birth" respectively.

Lines from Autophagy:

"I just wants a peaceful life." Likely means Hyoga wants the demons gone so he can live how he wants to. (Who wouldn't?)

"The voice inside my head? Huh... how odd." Also implies that the demons are still with him.

"My body pulses, memories from my past bringing pain." Means that in Autophagy, Hyoga remembers his past, but it hurts him.

""You can't avoid it in life, so it's best to just deal with it." You say, but you dont seem bothered." Is most likely Sinfan talking to Hyoga. It could also mean that Hyoga can't avoid the demons, so he should just deal with it.

"I can't stop now, so pretend nothing happened!" Could be Hyoga trying to ignore the demons, or maybe he did something he shouldn't have. (Always knew those were prison tattoos...)

"I want to wash my skull out! I want to say bye bye! But yet I didn't do it..." Could mean that the demons are still with him in Autophagy and likely still tormenting him.

"I won't stop, I can't look back." Might mean Hyoga is trying to move on, but with the demons still in his head, he can't, so the "Let me forget!" after the instrument solo might be him wishing that he never remembered in the first place and trying to get the demons to take them away again.

"Just stay away from me!" Could be Hyoga distancing himself from everyone he knows, or trying to get the demons to go away.

"Hello! HAHAHAHA Hello! HAHAHAHAHA!" Might be Hyoga as he slowly loses his remaining sanity due to constant tormenting and pressure from the demons.

"A A A A- 'Allo/Allow/Arrow" could all imply different things, so I'll give a short on all of them.

"'Allo!" Is just an abbreviation of "Hello."

"Arrow!" -According to a quick google search- is a common symbolism for peace and philosophical ideas, and used for protection and hunting. It could mean that Hyoga just wants peace and quiet, which is enforced by "I just want a peaceful life." in the beginning.

"Allow!" Could mean that the demons are trying even harder to bend him to their will and take him over as a vessel. They want Hyoga to allow them to posses him so they can do whatever they please.

Pabo only has 2 that I can see:

["Nightmare"

"Save (?)ime"]

It might be "time" but I couldn't make out the rune symbol there.

"Nightmare" hardens my thought that Bottom is just a massive nightmare set up by the demons to torment Hyoga, that the song is sung from the perspective of one of the demons (likely Pabo), and that Young Hyoga(tm) in the video is Pabometh playing the part of his repressed/forgotten memories.

This is all assuming the song is, infact, sung by the demons.

Lines from Bottom:

"You're keeping me alive! Today, today, you're killing me!" Could go both ways (Pabo/Sinfan and Hyoga) For Pabo it could just be another variation of the next line I'm about to talk about.

For Hyoga it could mean that he wouldn't be able to function if he didn't have the demons (Sinfan might posses him to make him fit in so nobody notices, keep him from dying from mortal wounds, and he's lived with them so long he might not know what to do without them), but with them he's slowly tearing himself apart from the inside out due to their constant tormenting. Metaphorically or literally is anyone's guess at the moment.

"Autophagy" (his songs name) is a medical term for "self eat" which normally happens when your body is starved, so it eats it's own cells to survive as long as it can. It can also correlate to certain diseases. Autophagy in these terms might also be referring to emotions. It's possible he's been stewing in any sort of negative emotions to cause such effects. (I.E: Guilt, fear, self worth issues,) which could make his resolve weaker, making it easier for Pabo and Sinfan to torment him/possess him. The longer it goes on, the closer he could be to self destructing.

"A wax figure/a doll is keeping me alive/killing me." Is more related to the demons in my eyes. "Wax figure/a doll" is likely referring to Hyoga. Hyoga could be their only tie to the mortal realm, (Sinfan being more prominent because he was summoned first, and by Hyoga himself.)

It could also mean that they need to inhabit his mind/body in order to survive and make it easier to torment Hyoga. If they both are in Hyoga's mind 24/7 while he suffers from nightmares (which cause lack of sleep, keeping his body in a perpetually weak state), no self worth, and a fragile mental state ("I wanna keep you out of my fragile mind!") while he tears himself apart, it would mean it would be harder to stay with him without something happening.

Due to that, it's likely that the very thing keeping them alive and in the mortal realm is also killing them at the same time.

It may be worth mentioning that a line in Bottom is "You think you're a god to me?" while 9lore translated Rinen's (Möbius') tattoo on his chest, which reads "Be still and know that I am god." It could a a coincidence, but I thought I'd mention it just in case (:

Throughout the entire song the demons are mocking and belittling Hyoga. (I.E: "Defying all logic, you're nothing but evil." "You're so stupid! You scumbag, scumbag, scumbag!") Most of the angry rant type of thing happens when Young Hyoga (tm) is on-screen. (It could be a tactic to make Hyoga not want to remember/manipulate his memories/tear down his resolve even more/or just plain upset him.)

"I mean, who, who, who are you?" It's been made clear that for the longest time (according to WOOMA) Hyoga didn't even remember his own name. "Who are you?" might be Pabo trying to get into Hyoga's head and make him question his own sanity.

"What the hell are you to me?" Implies that Pabo also want Hyoga to question why Pabo is here. Sinfan was summoned by Hyoga, but Pabometh was likely summoned by Sinfan to help tear down Hyoga. That means the two don't have much history, and Hyoga most likely doesn't know why Pabo is here for awhile.

It's "you to me" instead of "me to you" so Pabo could also be trying to get Hyoga to try and notice him in a positive way so that the nightmares stop. I'll expand on that some more a few (a lot) of paragraphs down.

"Inside my heart is- such a rage! Such a rage! So I'll grab you, grasp you, and crush you flat!" Is a line I find interesting. It also leads directing into another line; "The symptom of the unforgettable emotion is my burning intent to murder, which is absolutely right." Pabo would likely be talking about Hyoga, which implies that if he could, Pabo would murder Hyoga himself, but since the "wax figure" is needed to keep both him and his accomplice, Sinfan, alive, he can't.

It also implies that Pabo is extremely angry with Hyoga, for a reason I can't particularly pinpoint, except maybe for the fact that Hyoga's becoming more and more unstable and not safe for Pabo and Sinfan. The only problem is, it's Pabo and Sinfans fault he's like that. They're the ones that chose Hyoga as a vessel while simultaneously destroying him.

However, it's possible that Pabo's aim was to devoid Hyoga of anything and everything, (I.E: memories, emotions, etc. etc.) so that he was just that: a vessel. But with Hyoga being so destructive to himself, the whole plan could have gone awry and Pabo's only thought was how furious he was at Hyoga for messing up his chance to be in the mortal realm undetected for good, meaning he wishes he could destroy Hyoga and just get it over with so him and Sinfan could wait until someone else summoned them so they could take advantage of that.

""How deplorable you are! How deplorable you are!"" Is a line that has a chance of Hyoga himself having said it due to it having quotes on it. It also implies that he he could be fighting back, so his resolve might not crushed completely. However, a show of strength like that would likely just enrage Pabometh even more than he already is. It also doesn't help the positive impression he wants Pabo to have of him.

"You're involving yourself with me again like a clingy, clingy neighbor!" Sounds like Pabo, again, insulting Hyoga. If we go off of another part of this fever dream I've cooked up, (Hyoga not knowing what to do without the demons, but with them destroying himself), sounds like Pabo doesn't want to be with Hyoga anymore, going as far as hating him so much he's festering in it.

The "again" makes it sound like Hyoga's tried to communicate with them more than once, being unsuccessful each time. Hyoga could be trying to latch onto them, either to take them down with him or trying to get the nightmares to stop. Like I said, for a while Hyoga could have been trying to get positive attention and make Pabo like him.

"The low-end is going to manipulate me." Could be Pabo addressing that he knows what Hyoga was trying to do and calling him out for it.

"Brimming with momentary anger, rot away quickly, quickly, quickly!" Again, Pabo is talking about his burning hatred for Hyoga.

"I'm always losing! How, how dare you!" Implies that even with all the nightmares and torment, Hyoga has just enough willpower to keep Pabo from getting his wish, angering him even more.

And finally, a line from Autophagy:

"Oh, rise seeds of evil, bursting with malice!" Might be Hyoga finally giving into the demons and becoming their vessel if they take away his painful memories and stop hurting him.

Pentagram:

["-r Guide(A) N(?)E A(?)R"

"The ability to know wh-"

"Grant me the power to be strong in spirit-"

"Grant me the wisdom to understand-"]

With it over Pabo, it's possible that this was the one that summoned Pabo instead of Sinfan, although with it also under Hyoga, it could be Sinfan's. Who knows, it might also be boths.

In the ending scene with the pentagram, the colors of the other songs are visible, meaning that it's possible all of them are connected.

(I could go on for hours about the small loopholes that I think mean all the songs are connected in specific ways. Either way I know they're all from the same universe.)

With all their colors on it, it might mean they all have a demon of their own.

I'm still working slightly on the pentagram, I'll probably keep ya updated if I can find out what the rest of it says (:

If anyone can find the full version (preferably readable) of the pentagram, that'd be lovely (if it even exists)

(If you find more runes in "Bottom" or another Hiiragi song I'd be happy to see if I can translate it (: I'm not very good though, and I can't speak Japanese-)

English translation of Bottom used by: Tackmyn Y (I don't know where you are but you're a lifesaver)

Find any spelling errors, let me know! I'll see if I can fix 'em (:

If you read this far, what're you doing??

Have an absolutely amazing day!!! <3

[mirrinbelde-shitposts]

Hello!!!! I'm here to participate on your game!!! And, I think you're an Aquarius Mercury just like me!! Thank you and take care 😘

My chart:

Hey!! I'm not an Aquarius Mercury :( but I do have lots of Aquarius in my chart ^^ Have a nice day!

Welcome to your reading. Please remember to send feedback.

First impressions when looking at your chart: it's almost a bowl shape, meaning that there's approximately 180ª with planets and the other 180º are devoid of planets

SUN IN AQUARIUS

As an Aquarius, you are quirky, aloof, dreamy and humanist. People may think you’re awkward and detached, which is probably true for you since your Sun is at 0º of Aquarius. Your originality and uniqueness are probably the things you love about yourself the most. Your mind is also quite agile, which allows you to fulfil your dreams. Nevertheless, we cannot ignore the fact that the Sun is in Detriment in the sign of Aquarius. This means that the Sun can struggle here, making you feel confused as to who you are and how you can express yourself. You very much value your independence and your rebelliousness. However, you can be stubborn to a fault when it comes to your thoughts and opinions.

SUN IN THE 8TH HOUSE

This is the house of Scorpio. With the Sun here, you may appear a bit Scorpionic, namely, you can embody that more powerful, secretive, intense vibes very associated with this sign. Whilst Leo is about yourself, Scorpio relates to your connection with others. By bonding with other people, and experiencing their emotions, you can further discover your own identity. Scorpio is known for its intensity, so you probably have a big need to know everything about those closest to you, but that’s not an issue, because people seem to want to disclose to you. Additionally, the 8th house rules other people’s money and inheritances, so you may be in charge of others’ monetary resources. You may even get a career in this area. Lastly, this house rules everything secret and occult, so there’s a big chance that you’ll learn more about yourself by delving into the mystic arts (such as astrology, for example).

PISCES MOON

With this placement, you acquire intuition, empathy and emotional intelligence. You are a caring person who seeks to help others comprehend and verbalize emotions, which contrasts heavily with Aquarius but flows well with the 8H influence. I'd say that you're the type of person that everyone goes to for advice. However, you should take care not to spend a lot of time being the “therapist friend”, for your high sensitivity can cause you to get overwhelmed by others’ negative energies. You probably need your alone time in order to recharge your batteries. You can be quite emotional and you're often with your head “in the clouds”. Ethereal is a good word to describe personal Pisces placements. On the other hand, if not developed, you can be manipulative, insecure and lie a lot, especially with the 8th house.

MOON IN THE 8TH HOUSE

This placement very much goes strengthens your interest in the occult and secret. It is a karmic position for the Moon; perhaps you have a very strong relationship with your mother. Additionally, it ties in well with Pisces' emotional abilities. You seek someone with whom you can form a deep emotional bond, someone with whom you can be vulnerable and share your secrets. It is also a good position for therapists because it allows you to connect well with people’s feelings and needs. Nevertheless, as I mentioned before, this can give you emotional control over people, which can lead to you manipulating them, even if you don't mean to do so. This can be especially true because your moon is not harmoniously aspected (conjunct Saturn, square Jupiter and Pluto). You can also benefit a lot from an inheritance, especially from your mother.

AQUARIUS MERCURY

This placement, even more so than your Aquarius Sun, brings you idealism and originality, as well as ideas that have the power to change society and the world. You are a free spirit and independence is definitely something very important to you. Your mind is all about being innovative and creative so you can make the world a better place. Your ideas may not always be viewed positively by others but you don't let that discourage you. People may also think you're a little off and detached but you just keep on doing your own thing, which is admirable. You may truly be ahead of your time, especially since your Mercury is in retrograde, which means that your ideas may be much more accepted after you communicate them. You have an agile mind and a good grasp of many different subjects, so people may enjoy speaking to you and learning your take on various fields of knowledge.

MERCURY IN THE 8TH HOUSE

The house of Scorpio. With Mercury here, your gain intuitiveness and inquisitiveness. To me, it is the Detective placement. It’s easy for you to understand what someone else is thinking because you have a knack for this kind of thing; telepathic, almost. You have a big interest in anything that has to do with the hidden and the human mind. Psychology would also be a good career. I’d say you think and listen much more than you think because, in your head, you’re connecting all the dots. There can be some fear in you, perhaps because of negative experiences in past lives. Due to this, you prefer to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself. Also, it is said that this placement can cause misunderstandings in contracts, especially regarding inheritances.

SAGITTARIUS VENUS

This Venus sign is independent and adventurous; it seeks someone with which to have fun and deep, philosophical conversations. You highly value morals and honesty, which is not strange, given that these things are ruled by Jupiter, hence associated with Sagittarius. Feelings are also very important to you. You may appear too detached and aloof, but that's not how you truly feel. Also, you can be viewed as flight and non-committal, but that is not true; you may simply take your time to actually understand whether or not to begin a relationship. Nevertheless, relationships may not be a concern of yours because of your need for independence. You very much enjoy travelling and acquiring knowledge to broaden your horizons. You may also date foreigners or have an interest in them.

VENUS IN THE 6TH HOUSE

Here, Venus gives great importance to things associated with Virgo: routine, health, job. It is important for you to have your routine and to plan things. Once you acquire a habit, it is difficult to let go of it (“Old habits die hard.”). Similarly, it is important that you incorporate activities with your partner in your daily schedule. Funnily enough, it is routine that makes you miss things you no longer have: for example, if you lose a friend, you may miss them more because you used to talk every day. You enjoy working on projects that make you feel like you’re doing something meaningful; your chosen profession must fulfil you. You want a harmonious workplace that makes you feel happy to work. Also, you have an eye for detail. There can be a need to obsess about your health, as well as your loved ones’.

MARS IN LEO

The red planet does well here. Leo wants to achieve great things in life and Mars gives it that determination and willpower needed to succeed. You probably do what you want and often act to stand out. This is a very bold, direct placement. What you want, you most likely get. You’re passionate about the things you love, which is admirable. You seek recognition and fame. You can be very proud and get angry easily, but it also goes away quickly. You are very brave, for sure, and fierce. Losing is not an option for you. You like to be in the spotlight and at the top. Admitting when you’re wrong can be quite difficult for you due to the aforementioned pride. Nevertheless, you’re warm, creative, romantic and probably good around children.

MARS IN THE 2ND HOUSE

Here, Mars is tied in with the themes of Taurus. Since Taurus is a fixed sign, I’d say that you are very good at getting what you want because you are quite determined and perseverant. You may have a strong will to acquire material things that bring you comfort and security. In that sense, you may wish to have a high-paying job that allows you to buy the things that allow you to have that comfortable lifestyle. However, you may spend your money too generously, so beware of that. You are brave and dynamic, qualities that help you to achieve what you want.

SAGITTARIUS JUPITER

Jupiter is in its rulership here. With this placement, your interest in the "accursed questions", that is, everything to do with our connection with the universe, is greatly expanded. Mundane life can seem quite trivial to you; your desire is to understand the bigger things. Like I mentioned in the Sagittarius Venus section, you have a deep desire to travel, to connect to other cultures, to experience different things than what you're used to, to expand your knowledge. In addition to this, you want to share what you know with others, sometimes without prompt, which may cause others to perceive you as a "know-it-all". Jupiter is also connected to intuition, so, if you learn to trust and rely on yours, you may achieve enlightenment.

JUPITER IN THE 6TH HOUSE

This placement may seem, at first, difficult, because this is the house of Virgo, in which sign Jupiter has its Detriment. Whilst Jupiter is all about the higher mysteries, philosophy and the bigger picture, Virgo prefers hard work, concrete aspects and attention to detail. You should seek to find meaning in life through your job, as well as acts of service. Also, this placement may manifest in more ways than one: you may be able to take on the Virgo traits by achieving focus in one thing, or, on the opposite, you can move from one thing to the next, in a bid to help everyone and achieve everything. Jupiter here needs to find a middle ground between the mundane and the mystical.

PISCES SATURN

This is, in my humble opinion, a contradictory placement. Pisces is known for being the sign of illusions, dreams, fantasies. Saturn, on the other hand, is the planet of blockages, traumas, karma. Pisces does not want to directly deal with the problems, whilst Saturn wants precisely the opposite. This can result in deep fears from you, perhaps regarding your individual conscience. You may be afraid to delve deep, to explore the limits of your mind and also to share these with others. Feelings are very important to you, but these have a tendency to be more negative and elusive. A coping mechanism may be to detach, to ignore, to evade. You deal with problems by not dealing with them. You will grow, but only when you accept your struggles and face them head-on.

SATURN IN THE 9TH HOUSE

You could have been brought up in a traditional, conservative religious community. This may manifest as you having clear opinions on what is right and what is wrong. Perhaps you have a lack of faith, or you’re merely sceptical of religion. This placement balances all the others in this house: with Saturn here, you might hold back all the desire to learn, to get out there and explore your beliefs. In a past life, you may have held all the answers, but in this life, you may not want anything to do with the higher mysteries. Nevertheless, I would say that this placement may not be that strong, given that all the other planets in your 9th house want you to learn and explore. ⬛️

[firemblem-fics]

Running With the Wolves [1]

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-> Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader

-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Lovers

-> Word Count: ~3.3k

-> Warnings: Violence, Blood, Cursing, Weapons

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn’t mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you’re running with the wolves.

-> A/N: SURPRISE I POSTED IT EARLY ! thanks to my lovely beta readers for helping me revise and edit this chapter to make it better! i’m still in a writing mental block but i think this is one step closer to getting out of it! so, please enjoy (again)! also, all characters are aged up (21+)! also y’all should reblog this so it gets out more 🥺

send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

"Fuck- She's losing too much blood, Boss, she's not gonna make it!"

"No, no. She's going to make it- I'll make sure of it. Stay alive!"

Your vision was dark and blurry- you couldn't quite see anything. You could only make out a few silhouettes hovering above you, each one rushing around and yelling frantically. You couldn't count how many were there. Your vision kept doubling and it was hard to discern one person from three. Focusing just caused things to get worse.

"Someone put pressure on the damn wound! She certainly won't make it if you all keep messing around."

It was only now that you noticed a sharp pain radiating from your chest, right below your ribs. You gasped loudly and coughed. It hurt worse than the throbbing that already coursed through your head. Your body burned.

Trying to look down, you saw a rag soaked in blood. Hands with bright nails pressed down on your wound to slow the flow, but it didn't seem to be helping. You started feeling dizzy and laid back again, clenching your eyes tight as nausea engulfed you.

"No, keep your eyes open, Y/N, dammit! Wake up!"

Slowly, the pain began fading, as did your view of the people above you and their voices. You could still barely hear the voice crying, sobbing out your name. Whoever they were, they were crushed.

"Wake up!"

Was that voice finally fading away too?

"Wake up!"

No- it was getting louder.

"Wake up!"

"Ellie, what the fuck do you want?" You groaned, rolling over on your bed.

Your roommate bounced on her knees, making your bed creak loudly. "What do you mean? It's like 10am, your class is at 11. Don’t talk to me with that tone of voice."

"Fuck me."

"Absolutely not, baby." Ellie smacked a pillow beside you and got up. "Get ready!" She went to her own room, leaving you to your own devices.

When you applied for an apartment roommate, Ellie was certainly not the one you were expecting. You would've preferred a chill, laid-back, person. Instead, Eleonora Yumizuru walked into your life (and apartment) and practically made herself at home. She didn't judge you from transferring so far away from your old home for your last year of college, claiming that "home roots don't mean shit when it comes to making it in the real world".

She had the right to say such a thing, having moved to Fodlan from another country in her youth. She was able to understand the occasional homesickness and help you cope as you adjusted to Fodlan life. She understood you like the back of her hand from the moment you met and you did the same for her.

Really, you had to let her move in. She’d probably have stayed even if you rejected her.

She was the complete opposite of what you were looking for- overconfident, stubborn, loud- but she grew on you and easily became your best friend. There was just something about the bubbly, blue-eyed, blonde-bobbed bitch that hooked you.

She had certainly hooked other people as well, but thank God her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment. Her social skills and magnetic personality worked for platonic friends and acquaintances as well. Ellie was constantly bringing over friends, allowing you to expand your own circle. She was heaven-sent for a newbie like you.

You sat up from your bed, yawning and stretching. Trudging to your bathroom, you rolled your eyes as the infamous Taylor Swift blared through Ellie's speakers, "Shake it Off" shaking the entire apartment. Nothing against T. Swift, but sometimes she was not the first thing you want to hear when you wake up. At least not at max volume. Ignoring the song switching to "You Belong With Me" -another banger from Swift herself, but really "Teardrops on My Guitar” was your favorite- you finished getting ready and lazed into Ellie's room.

"I've got class 'till late today." You sat on her bed. "Do you want me to pick up dinner? It’ll let me explore the area."

"Oh, please do. You need to get out more. But where?"

You shrugged. "There's really only like two good food places here. Golden Pizza and Blue Lion Buffet. Your choice."

Ellie thought for a moment. "I went to the buffet with my little friend Touma the other day... so pizza! I just can't choose a side in their little spat."

"Spat?" You tilted your head.

"Goodness, Y/N! I know you're a little new here, but you haven't even heard of the shit that goes on between those restaurant owners?"

Shaking your head, you stayed silent for her to continue.

"The owners of Blue Lion Buffet, Eagle's Freezery, and Golden Pizza are all huge rivals. I heard they were all close, but went their separate ways. All the owners' kids are our age, too. They go to Fodlan Uni, but I don't know who they are." She smiled. "I am an esteemed woman with an upcoming high status. Who would I be to take sides? I prefer to cater to them all."

You could only nod, hiding a smirk at Ellie’s infatuation of fame. A huge restaurant rivalry. How funny. "What about that little cafe on the corner? What's it called? Café des Loups?"

"They're pretty neutral, just some college dropouts trying to make some money. I think they’re gonna get involved eventually- every restaurant’s been dragged into their drama at least once."

You nodded, standing up and messing with your apartment keys. "I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Ellie!"

"Bye! I better see some pizza later!" She called as you made your way out of the apartment, now playing "I Knew You Were Trouble".

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

College was honestly a scam.

You sat in the classes for two hours at a time, for what? You were paying thousands of dollars to be talked at by old dusty men who made you fall asleep faster than trying to read their overpriced textbooks. You paid thousands to nap at a desk.

Unfortunately for you, though, your thousand dollar desk nap was interrupted by a tapping on the surface. You huffed and looked up, coming face to face with a pair of soft, orange eyes. They radiated kindness and just looking into them seemed to lift your mood immediately.

"Hey, you need to wake up for this part. The professor said there's gonna be a quiz on this section tomorrow."

You shot up, looking back at your professor. Blushing embarrassedly, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you..."

"Ferdinand." He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, as if to conceal his smile, before giving up and returning yours just as brightly.

As you faced forward to Professor Hanneman, as you were pretty sure his name was- or was it Ham Man? You didn’t care enough to know- you were now struggling with two distractions. One, the weight of your eyelids as they threatened to pull you back into dreamland. Two, Ferdinand.

You kept glancing at him, taking in his complexion. He must have come to class late, since you didn't see him before. Or maybe he was on time- you did fall asleep quite early into the lecture.

You were eyeing his carefully sculpted jawline, dotted with subtle stubble that connected to sideburns and led up to clean, silky, orange hair. You wished to run your fingers through it-

"Y/N, this is the second time I've seen you not paying attention." You jumped nearly three feet in the air. "Next time, I'll have to ask you to leave my class since you are obviously taking it as a joke."

"I-I'm not joking! Sorry!" You stuttered, finally finding a reason to keep your attention on the lecture. You did look away once, just to glare at Ferdinand, who only winked and chuckled at your misfortune.

Class was eventually over and you sighed, finally loosening up from forcing yourself to pay attention. You packed your notebook and laptop and swung your backpack on, getting ready to leave the room before a voice called to you.

You turned back. "Ferdinand?"

"I was simply wondering where your next class was. I can walk you to it, if you'd like." Said boy walked quickly towards you, holding himself with a nearly-perfect posture. You felt anxious- he was trying to make himself seem like a gentleman, but you still felt a little unnerved.

"Oh, um, sure! It's not for another fifteen minutes, but it is across campus."

Ferdinand's grin seemed to get larger, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. "How wonderful! That little café is down there and I've been meaning to check it out anyways. It works out perfectly."

"Uh, yeah." You laughed nervously. This was the first time a boy had taken interest in you- or was he really interested? Maybe he's just being nice-

"Also, before I forget. May I get your number? I'd like to talk to such a gorgeous woman like you a little more."

Oh, he was so interested. You had to make yourself breathe again as you handed him your phone to let him put his number in. He gave it back to you and you noticed a heart and a smiley face emoticon next to his contact name. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the emojis and you felt your cheeks heat up a bit. Ferdinand gave you a sweet smile before holding the door open for you, letting you lead the way to your next class.

On the way to the building, Ferdinand spent the time asking you questions and getting to know you better. He had scratched basically the entire surface of you, save for the secrets that new people shouldn't know, and the same could be said for you. Ferdinand was definitely a polished and refined man. He made quite the impression on you.

"What are you doing after classes?" You asked, hoping to invite him for pizza at your apartment.

"Ah, I've got work!" He smiled sheepishly. He definitely caught onto your hopes...

"Really? Where? Maybe after, you could stop by for some Golden Pizza-"

"Actually, I work at the Eagles Freezery." He was tense, suddenly. "So I really shouldn't. Rivalry and all of that, you know?"

You were a little confused, actually. "Why would that prevent you from hanging out for a bit? You didn't buy it, I did. Plus I thought the rivalry was only between the buffet and the pizza place?”

"It's- it's a loyalty thing. It’s between all three of us.”

"It's a restaurant. How loyal could you possibly be to a dumb little ice cream parlor-"

"It's more than that!" Ferdinand snapped his mouth closed, suddenly making himself quiet after his angry outburst. "Listen, I cannot and will not eat there, look at it, talk about it, or do literally anything about it. Please, just understand that."

"Uh, yeah." You nervously readjusted your backpack on your shoulder. "I- I should get to class now. I'll see you later, Ferdinand."

"Goodbye, I'll message you after work!" With that, he sent you a wink and a smile and turned, going about his own day with the most carefree pep in his step. As if nothing ever happened. You, on the other hand, could not have been more confused. Ferdinand seemed unpredictable when it came to his moods. He was comforting and kind, yet was so… upset when you insulted the parlor. It was a restaurant. Why did he get so worked up about it? Maybe Ellie was right about it being such a big deal.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I just ordered! Go, go, I’m starving!”

Not even five minutes after you got out of your last class, Ellie was calling to remind you about dinner. You were still slightly unnerved from your encounter with Ferdinand, but you agreed to pick it up and would never hear the end of it if you didn’t do something as simple as takeout.

Golden Pizza was only about two blocks away and you stayed on the phone with your roommate the entire time, only saying goodbye as you walked in the establishment. The restaurant was very nice, the honey yellow walls and the glow of the wood-fired oven making the ambience warm and welcoming. You didn’t wait long in the line, soon coming up to meet a boy about your age with a glimmering emerald gaze and a smile just as bright at the front counter.

“Hi!” The boy- Claude, according to his nametag- greeted, “How can I help you?”

“I’m just picking up an order for Eleonora Yumizuru.”

Claude nodded and typed a few things into a computer at the counter. “I know Ellie! She and I had Stats together before she dropped out to pursue her acting career. She’s certainly something.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m her roommate.” Speaking of the devil, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a message from her. “She actually just messaged me. Wants me to bring her a dumb little lemonade from that cafe.”

Claude laughed, “You can go and get it now, if you’d like. Your pizza will be a few more minutes. Ellie set the time for your pickup for later, so you’re actually ten minutes early.”

You thanked him and left, walking to the cafe. You took your time, observing the shops around you. Across the street from Golden Pizza stood the Blue Lion Buffet. You smiled to yourself- what a cliche to have rivals across from each other. Beside the pizza parlor was another food shop, the Eagles Freezery. You thought about Ferdinand- he said he was working today. Maybe you could drop by and- No. No, Y/N. Go get your lemonade and go.

A soft bell chimed as you opened the door. You saw four people in cafe uniforms, going about their day as you approached the register.

“Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Constance, that’s only used for a home.”

You shyly waved at the so-called Constance and the pink-haired girl who corrected her. Cafe des Loups- or Cafe of Wolves- was a quaint place, quiet and not crowded, kind of like an off-brand Starbucks. Dim lights adorned the high black ceiling, illuminating the shop just enough for a comforting ambience. There was a mural of a rainforest painted on the wall to the opposite of the counter with comfortable tables and lounging areas. If you could, you’d probably waste the day away lounging around. It was the perfect environment for an introvert like you.

At this shop, a large dark-haired man controlled the register instead of Claude. As you approached the register, you noticed that he wasn’t wearing a nametag, but you had a small urge to call him Bigfoot.

“Hey! What can I get ‘cha?”

You scoured the menu. “Just two pink lemonades is fine-”

“Oh! Good choice!” Constance interrupted you, coming to stand beside the man. “Yuri-bird over there makes the best sweet lemonades!”

You followed her gaze over to a man who was sitting on a stool, slouched down and leaning his head on his hand. He stretched and stood up. “Thank God, we haven’t had many customers all day. I was starting to think we lost our appeal.”

“Of course we have not!” Constance replied. She turned to you, but you couldn’t tell whether she was still talking to Yuri or you. Maybe it was neither. “Not when someone as handsome as Yuri is making the drinks and my attractive self is greeting the customers!”

“Hey! I’m just as much of a visual as the boss-man.” The taller man joined in after taking your money. “We’re all pretty nice looking. Especially this little lady ordering~”

You blushed a bit. “Oh, please, I’m nothing special-”

“Nothing special?” Constance laid her hand against her chest. “You’re wonderful! Almost on the same level as me. Isn’t that right, Yuri-birdie?”

Yuri looked up from making your drinks, his analytical eyes seemingly boring holes into you. You shuddered, feeling like he could tell your deepest and darkest secrets from just looking at you. He shrugged, going back to the lemonades.

“She’s alright, I suppose.”

“You suppose? Yuri, that’s rude-”

Hapi was midway through lecturing the purple-haired man when the door to the shop chimed open and a rather large group came in. Yuri looked up and suddenly stood alert, as did the other three workers. In the group, you saw a familiar head of orange hair and orange eyes met yours. Your face screwed up into confusion.

“Ferdinand?”

“Don’t say anything.” The leader of the group, a short, white-haired girl snarled. “Are you a new… worker here?”

“Wh- you just told me not to say anything.”

Slowly, Yuri and the other three came up beside you, standing slightly in front. Your heart nearly stopped- you were in the middle of something you definitely weren’t supposed to be in and your sass had gotten on their bad side already. The white-haired girl scrutinized the five of you, her lavender eyes piercing holes through whatever facade of confidence you had tried to put up. You could feel yourself literally wither under her gaze, even more than you did when Yuri looked at you.

“What do you want, Edelgard?” Yuri put his hands on his hip, one fiddling with something under his shirt.

“I want your loyalty.”

Yuri snorted. “You aren’t in charge.”

“I’m not? Hm. Tell that to my father after he stepped down. I’m the leader now- the emperor, if you will.” Edelgard sighed heavily. “I have no time for more conversation if you won’t comply. Hubert, deal with them.”

The terrifying man who you assumed was Hubert suddenly reached in his coat and pulled out a handgun, aiming it at the five of you. Yuri quickly retaliated and pulled one of his own, throwing it at Constance before grabbing your wrist and running to the back. A loud gunshot rang through the air as you and Yuri continued to run. You both dodged around coffee shop equipment and he dragged you through a labyrinth that they considered the back of the store.

As you were running, Yuri pulled you to a sharp right turn and your arm scraped against a metal machine in your way. You hissed in pain and looked down at it, seeing a large wound going down your shoulder to your elbow. It was starting to bleed rather quickly, but you had no time to worry about it. You’d have time to tend to it if you survived.

“What’s happening?”

“No time to explain. Quick, hide!”

Yuri pushed you against the wall in between two larger cabinets and stood in front, grabbing yet another gun from his other hip. He cocked it, listening for the ruckus of the fight in the main room to make its way towards your location. You were shaking like a leaf, grabbing tightly onto your wounded arm and smearing blood all over your fingers and your clothes. You breathed heavily, trying to calm yourself at least a little- was this why Ferdinand had been so defensive over the Eagles Freezery? What kind of restaurant rivalry would constitute attempted murder? And wasn’t this cafe uninvolved anyways? You didn't have time to ponder any more questions as a loud crash echoed through the room. Yuri lifted his gun and began to speak lowly, not taking his eyes off of the door.

“When I say run, go out the back door and get in the black car back there. Don’t go home- one of them will find you.”

A gunshot rang through the air and Constance, Balthus, and Hapi burst through the doors, running towards you all. Yuri turned to you as the three of them caught up to him, pulling out their own weapons again as Edelgard began yelling.

“Run!”

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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @fe3h-random-writing-and-stuff @mifuyuyu @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz

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[stonedgilbert]

do you have a meta post about why jeremy has no relationship with elena and what lead to having no contact? if not, would you like to share now? i'm very interested in what you have to say! (especially considering i wholeheartedly believe jeremy has every right to hate her)

why THANK YOU FOR ASKING NONNIE! i don’t know if i’ve ever formally written out something fully, but i’ve definitely done mini-metas here and there that sort of point out SOME of the reasons he has no relationship with her - but, in reality, it’s a combination of a lot of reasons, both canon from the show and things i’ve come up with on my own. so... here we go.

ONE : the lack of pictures of jeremy in the gilbert household. this is something i’ve expanded on in a few ways, but really - it’s canon. if you actually pay attention, in the show, you see pictures of miranda and grayson, of elena, but... the ONLY picture you ever see of jeremy is a picture that elena has on her bedroom mirror. point blank, you never see anything else of him/his childhood in the household. now, i’ve sort of created this headcanon that, as miranda would have fallen pregnant with jeremy when elena was only a few months old (as i believe? that she is supposed to be sixteen at the beginning of season one, and jeremy is 14 in the first few episodes, and has turned 15 by the time 1x05 comes around - the closest i can get to an estimate, considering his birthday is october 13th, and 1x05 is the halloween episode, which mind you, i will never NOT be mad about the fact that even though he Has a canon birthday, his birthday is never actually celebrated on the show), they had sort of taken this effort, given their children were so close in age, and elena was adopted, that they made this... effort to make sure that elena would never feel second best, like less than because she was adopted, but within that effort (and because miranda most definitely had a closer relationship with elena, with that mother/daughter relationship), jeremy sort of... fell through the cracks. combined with my own headcanon that jeremy has a few learning disabilities that makes/made school incredibly hard for him, and the MAJORITY of his “quality time” with his parents was them helping him with him homework (which he hated, because he hated school), inevitably getting frustrated in that very “smart white wealthy suburban family doesn’t understand learning disabilities when it’s in their own child, even if they’re supportive of it in other kids” way, and then simply giving him the answers because it’s late and they’re tired and there’s just not enough time in the day to hold his hand through all of that work, thank you very much. (i also headcanon that miranda had been looking into getting him formally diagnosed before the gilbert parents died, but unfortunately it never happened, and he doesn’t actually discover he has a legitimate disability until denver) and then, he is never actually shown as having ANY friends before the accident. we are thrust into him being in with the stoner crowd, but that he only became involved with them because of his parents’ death, so... where are the friends? it’s my own particular headcanon that he was simply so bad at school, that doing his homework took so much time out of his day, that there just WASN’T enough time in the day to form legitimate friendships with anyone, so when they died, he sort of just... stopped doing homework. withdrew, and then had nobody, which is how he ended up with the stoners. but, all of those things combined, jeremy felt incredibly INFERIOR when it came to elena. the rest of the town heard “gilbert child” and IMMEDIATELY thought of elena. jeremy wasn’t much else other than the “other gilbert”. second fiddle. an afterthought. so in a lot of ways, he resents her because of that. it’s not HATRED... it doesn’t turn into hatred until you combine it with everything else, which brings me to...

TWO : jeremy was fourteen when the gilbert parents died. it is, arguably, old enough to be left home alone for an hour or so while they go pick up elena from a party she’s not supposed to be at. but that doesn’t change the fact that the both of them didn’t NEED to go. but they chose to, because (in jeremy’s mind) their first thought was always elena, and he was an afterthought. because they are not alive to say otherwise, there is a part of his mind that firmly believes that when they got the call from her, they didn’t even stop to think that he was (probably) in bed/asleep, and they would be leaving him alone. so he wholeheartedly blames her for their parents dying - both for going to the party in the first place, and for being so much of the ‘golden child’ that both miranda and grayson left without a second thought, when really, only one of them needed to go. to this day, jeremy has a certain degree of PTSD from that night, where if someone knocks on the door without him knowing that they’re going to be knocking (so, he needs someone to text him like ‘almost there’ so he can prepare), he is IMMEDIATELY thrown into a flashback of that night, of being woken up by the police knocking on the door and telling him that there’d been an accident, that he needed to go to the hospital, where he had to sit and wait for jenna to show up, which, since she was away at college, i also envision took at least a couple of hours. a couple of hours of him being completely alone, all because of elena (at least, that’s what he sees).

THREE : the memory tampering. after he discovers what she had damon do, he gets incredibly angry, and resents her for it. because the pain of vicki never went away (which, i headcanon for different reasons than the show gave, but still valid nonetheless), he really just saw it as a control tactic. she wasn’t helping him, because he still hurt, he still felt empty. and all of these things coming together, given that jeremy is still very young (this all happens in season 1, mind you), and not fully emotionally developed, so all of this pent up rage just builds inside of him, and it gets focused on the only thing he can find to focus it on - her. he doesn’t have a healthy outlet for it, so he attacks her, because it’s the only way he can find relief for what he’s going through. hating elena is easier than anything else, really.

FOUR : also, please note that if you pay attention in the show, there are MULTIPLE TIMES where they end the episode with jeremy angry at elena, and rightfully so, but because the the writers didn’t care about him, in the next episode, they’re back to normal (or whatever is normal for them at the time, at least), without elena ever saying she’s sorry or apologizing in a meaningful way, because 99% of her on-screen apologies to him are “i’m sorry you think that” and not actually owning up to what it is that she does. so, basically, when it comes to my jeremy - HE DOESN’T IGNORE WHAT SHE DOES. it’s why i’m a strong proponent of ‘if i write with an elena and she actually apologizes, jeremy is willing to have a marginally better relationship with her’, because... she just. never actually apologizes.

FIVE : then she drags him into the mess. and he hates her, for all the reasons i listed before this. and he’s just so angry that he firmly just “i do not believe your life is worth the trouble we are all going through for this”. ESPECIALLY when more people die on her account. his mindset at that point is just “just kill her and get it over with” because he is quite literally watching people around them die, time and time again, for her. he dies HIMSELF a few times, despite the fact that he certainly never wanted to, not for elena.

SIX : and then she sends him away. and he doesn’t hate her for that. his life is actually pretty good in denver - but he DOES hate her for bringing him back after sending him away, because they’re inconvenienced and need his ability to see ghosts, and he hates her because she literally takes away possibly the only chance he has at a normal life, a chance for him to actually get real help with his learning disabilities so he can get an education, and he just... doesn’t have a choice in the matter. she and damon show up like “okay time to come back” and he gets no. say. and when he’s back in mystic falls, that support for learning is no longer an option because everything is so hectic there, around them, so he... loses that. he loses his chance at a future, away from mystic falls, to be a normal man.

SEVEN : then they quite literally force him to become a hunter. he starts seeing the tattoo, literally out of nowhere, he can’t explain it, and they go “great so you need to kill more vampires so we can get the cure for your sister”. he never WANTED to be a hunter. there is literally a scene where they essentially force-trigger the hunter in him so he will kill a vampire to further progress his own tattoo, so they can use him as a map. and then there’s the fact that them FORCING him to do this leads to his death. and not even his first death, just one of the literally many deaths he’s gone through. something he NEVER WANTED TO DO, gets him killed. it just further fractures their relationship, and at that point, it’s basically beyond repair for me. BUT I STILL HAVE MORE DON’T WORRY.

EIGHT : then i do write him as having a bit of an affinity for kai, regardless of relationship status. in the end, it doesn’t actually matter if he’s dating kai or not, he just... develops this entrancement, attraction to him that draws him in and makes him pick kai over mystic falls and everyone in it - mostly because of how broken his relationship with elena already is, but i have also written a full meta on why jeremy is so protective of kai, and can see things in him that a lot of people ignore, mostly stemming from the idea of that just what jeremy went through growing up made him hate his sister, but after finding out how kai’s father treated him? there is a large part of jeremy that believes if he’d been put in the same situation, he would have turned out exactly like kai. and then ... kai dies. because of elena, really, but at that point, it really has nothing to do with elena. all jeremy knows is that the one person he truly cared about, the one person he felt that he had (regardless of how kai felt about him in return, and whether or not he was just manipulating him, or whatever) is gone. and he... breaks. he’s an adult at that point, and he crumbles, he’s angry, and i headcanon that the mystic falls gang had to hide elena’s magic-coma body not only from vampires who might want the cure that she has in her veins, but because of the fact that jeremy is actively hunting her, trying to find her so he can kill her, both as revenge on damon for taking away the one person he cared about (very ‘an eye for an eye’), and because he feels he has nothing left to live for, so if he dies in the pursuit, he’s okay with that. there’s even a part of him that believes he might get to see kai again if he dies, even.

NINE : this is the final Big Reason, and it’s sort of subjective. what makes jeremy FINALLY cut off all contact with elena, to the point of not even really telling his daughter that she has an aunt (cali literally thinks that she and jeremy are the only gilberts left in the world), is elena marrying damon. granted, some elena’s don’t take it into account, and it doesn’t even really make a difference overall in the relationship if they don’t get married, because jeremy’s already too lost in his hatred to ever have a real relationship with her again. but the way he sees it, it’s... damon killed him. and yes, later on, they become sort of friends. but because jeremy already hates elena so much, when she gets engaged, he sort of just sees it as a slap in the face. a sort of... “yes, i forgave him, but it was ME who he killed, you have NO RIGHT to forgive him for it. i am the only one who can do that”. and he sees it very much on her part as this idea of “my brother’s life doesn’t matter as long as i get what i want.” whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t matter, because that’s what he truly believes. granted, it’s only been cemented in his mind considering he has died multiple times for “her cause”, even when he specifically did not want to. he genuinely believes that, at that point, elena sees him as a means to an end, and not as a brother. again - WHETHER IT’S ACTUALLY TRUE OR NOT DOES NOT MATTER. what matters is that that is how he perceives it.

so uh. yeah. that’s why jeremy hates her and has no relationship with her. MIND YOU, i probably forgot something bc i didn’t actually sleep last night and i’m tired and this is super long, but AT THE VERY LEAST, these are the important bits.

[hallospaceboyy]

Hey. Although you wanted fluffy or smutty thing, I can't myself to an angsty Zelda x Reader request, I'm sorry. Reader gets cursed in front of the whole Spellman household and is turned to stone/a monster or anything. (I adore beauty and the beast, shushh.) The thing is: true loves kiss doesn't work and Zelds nearly loses her mind. You may decide if it works later on or not. Have a wonderful day, thank you for reading this and don't feel pressured to do it, 'cause it is quite specific. xo

Stone Cold

You hadn't told the Spellman's about the curse that was slowly taking hold of your body, coursing through your veins, sucking life from your every limb. Your pride stopped you, convinced yourself that you could handle it, find a way to reverse it. But you couldn't, and every hour it got worse, and when you barge your way into the mortuary, your hand is grey, the flesh hardening, and you can’t move it. You can feel your skin tightening, pain coursing up your arm as it spreads, faster by the second. Zelda marches in from the kitchen, mug of tea in hand, and she drops it abruptly, ignoring the shards of china that litter the floor, gasping in shock as she sees you stood there clutching your arm.

“Zel-Zelda...” You whimper, and she rushes to you, strokes her palm over your wrist, hand trembling at the roughness of it. It's stone - hard, grey stone.

“What-Y/N sweetheart, what's happening?” Her voice is urgent, shaking with panic, and her eyes are filling with tears, your legs are rigid now, and you can feel it spreading higher and higher, moaning in pain.

“C-Curse. Thought I could f-fix it.” You let out a strangled sob, and Zelda strokes your face, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m scared.” Then, just like that, you’re gone, and all that remains is a statue, and Zelda releases an animalistic shriek, clutching at you and sobbing, shaking at your hardened figure, desperate for you to move. She falls to her knees, shaking profusely, unable to stop the noises bubbling in her throat, and then Hilda is beside her, tears in her own eyes as she takes in the scene, takes Zelda into her arms.

“We'll fix this Zelds, it’ll be okay.” She sniffles, and Zelda pushes her away roughly, standing on weakened legs, clutching at the rough stone of your arms, your shoulders, your face.

“Please come back to me, baby. C-Come back to me! I need you!” She screams, her whole body wracks with sobs, and she presses a salty kiss to your lips in desperation, crying against you. The stone is rough against her lips, but she doesn’t care, presses them there with a bruising force until Hilda gently pulls her away, and the redhead collapses in her arms.

*

Weeks go by, to no avail, book after book perused by all of the Spellmans, but nothing is found. They manage to move you to into the parlour despite the weight, and Zelda sleeps there when she does sleep, curled on the sofa with a single pillow and thin blanket. She barely eats, but Hilda brings her food anyway, chain smokes her way through the day, downs tumbler after tumbler of whiskey, savouring the burn in her throat.

She's weak, and exhausted. There are black circles beneath her eyes, her hair hangs limp, has barely washed it, let alone taken the time to style it to its usual perfection. She doesn’t bother to cover her pallid skin with makeup, her sallow cheeks, pale lips, and her clothes hang loosely from her body. She sticks to your side, talks to you as she skims through dusty volumes, ignoring paper cut after paper cut that stings at her fingers from the desperation of her page turning. She knows you're still in there somewhere, can feel you, and she won't give up, refuses to give up until she has you back.

With her refusing to leave your side for more than a few minutes, she sends Sabrina and Ambrose to the Academy to use the facilities there – they come home with arms piled high with books, handing them to the redhead and sit in silence, helping her with her research. Occasionally they glance at her, concern etched on their features. Zelda is making herself ill, constantly jittery, losing her mind in her search, and their worry for her far exceeds their worry for you, despite the circumstances. But they don’t say anything, can’t broach the subject with her, know they will only get their heads bitten off. Their Aunt's temper is unusually short, shorter than normal, and they don’t want to risk alighting her already short fuse.

It's late, and Zelda sits in the dark save a single lamp by her side, sitting rigidly on the sofa, eyes skimming the pages with lightning speed despite her bone tiredness. The book in her hand is old, so very ancient, and her hands shake as she finds the section on curses. It's there. The curse that turns someone to stone. The counter curse is there too. She let’s out a cry of relief, then a strangled sob, and Hilda was always close by, keeping an eye on her sister, and she all but sprints into the room, shuffling in her slippers. Zelda is hunched over the book, shoulders shaking.

“I-I've found it Hildie, I’ve found it.”

Hilda breathes a sigh of relief, sinking to the sofa beside her, and she wraps an arm around her sister, gently slides the book from Zelda's lap to her own.

“We'll do it now then, yeah? Let's get your girl back.” She sends Zelda a watery smile, kisses her temple, and Zelda lets her.

*

You crumple to the ground, gasping for breath, and air fills your lungs, sweet, musty air, and it feels so good to feel your lungs expand in your chest, to feel your heart beating again – to feel something, anything.

You look around the room, eyes unfocused, blinking rapidly, and then they do focus, and Zelda is lying on the floor, splayed there, eyes closed, and you crawl to her, tears gathering in your eyes.

“She’s exhausted, love. The counter curse took it out of her.” Hilda places a warm hand on your back. “She'll be okay, in a few hours.” Hilda gently moves her, lays her on the sofa, placing a blanket over her thin form. You move to sit on the floor beside her, resting a hand over hers.

“I'm here, Zelda. I’m not going anywhere.” Stroking her hair from her face, tears fall down your cheeks.

“You must be starved, love. How about something to eat.”

You nod, but remain gazing at the sleeping redhead. “I’m not leaving her, though.” You whisper, and Hilda hums, squeezing your shoulder.

“I didn't think you would. I’ll bring you something.” She hovers then, mouth opening as if ready to say something, and you look up at her, eyebrows raised. “She's barely left your side once, you know. We thought she was digging herself an early grave. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep.” Hilda blinks back tears, and you squeeze Zelda's hand, brings it up to kiss the back of it.

“I know.” You inhale a shaky breath, eyes searching Zelda's pale face. “It's my turn to take care of her now.”

“Well, don’t overdo it. You have been stone for the last three weeks.”

“I feel fine, Hilda. Strangely.” You send her a reassuring smile, and she nods, making her way to the kitchen.

*

Some hours later, you’ve eaten, and feel almost normal again, if a little achy, and you remain latched to Zelda's side, hand firmly clasping hers. Your eyes dart up as she squeezes back, and her eyes flutter open. She smiles tiredly, tears already filling her eyes.

“You came back to me.” She whispers weakly, and you grin through your own tears, stroking her cheek.

“Of course I did. Thanks to you. I hear you’ve been killing yourself over it, you silly witch.”

She chuckles, trying to blink away her tears, and you crawl onto the sofa beside her, and she shifts over to make room, draping an arm over your waist. Her face nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your scent, and you feel her begin to shake, hold her tighter.

“I thought I was going to lose my mind. It broke me, not being able to help you.” Her voice is thick with tears, and you stroke her back, shushing her comfortingly.

“It's okay, Zelds. I’m here now. You did so well.” You rock her slowly in your arms as she cries, kiss her temple, pepper kisses to her hair. She's so warm, feels so good against you, and you never want to let go of her again. You can’t help but think if you had just asked for help, swallowed your pride, this could have all been prevented, and you’re wracked with guilt. Zelda feels thinner, seems a shell of herself despite her relief, her happiness at having you back, and you vow to nurse her back to health – bring your Zelda back to you.

“I love you. I'm so sorry.” You bury your face in your hair, closing your eyes, and with a whisper you’re both lying on Zelda's bed, and the redhead clings to you, looks up at you with watery eyes.

“I love you too, my darling. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She presses a salty kiss to your lips, and you return it, stroking her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb.

“We’ll discuss that later. For now, you should get some more rest, and then eat something.”

Zelda nods, although there's concern in her bloodshot green eyes. She rests her head on your chest, and you can already feel her becoming heavier against you as she falls asleep, hand grasping at your waist.