#nostalgia is a strong tool

[chronicbeans]

Yandere Platonic Alastor x Victim Reader

You got killed by him when you both were alive, because you accidentally ended up witnessing him burying a body. Unknowingly, because neither of you recognized each other in Hell, you both became friends... Now the memories are returning.

TW: Death, Murder, Cannibalism (again, this is Alastor), Fear and Anxiety, Invasion of Privacy/Personal Space, Stalking, Manipulation, Yandere Behavior (Upped to more than usual, for Alastor)

• You remember how you died relatively well. Back in the 1920s, you decided to go on a nighttime walk in the woods... well, more like heavily wooded swamps of New Orleans, only to stumble across a man burying a body in the ground. You panicked, which alerted him, and you got shot. That's the gist of it. You don't know who did it, you don't know why he killed that person he was burying, but you have always vowed revenge on the person who did it.

• However, you decided to try to redeem yourself, still. You entered the Hazbin Hotel, being led in by an excited Charlie, only to then be met with Alastor. You recognized his voice as one you heard on a radio show, when you were alive... and when you asked, he confirmed your suspicions that it was him who was the host! You were surprised, and although you never met him in life, you were comforted by at least having someone from your time period here.

• And as such, you mostly stuck by him. Although you wouldn't call him a friend. It was more like he was a familiar presence for you. Sure, he was the Radio Demon, but he hadn't shown any hostility towards you. So, in your opinion, there was no need for concern or fear. He never seems to mind, either. The most he does is stare at you or ask why you spend so much time with him, and you always be truthful.

• In truth, although he doesn't want to admit it, he enjoys your company. Alastor views you as a sort of lost soul who needs guidance... and by that, it means he wants to take your soul. You seem a bit naive to his true nature, so you'd be relatively easy to trick, yeah? You may not be strong or a good tool to use, but keeping you on a leash would be nice, in his opinion. It's not everyday he finds someone from not only his time period, but his area! You're like a little rare gem, who brings him nostalgia.

• He's proven wrong, however, as you deny his offer for a deal. So, he was proven wrong. You're smart enough to deny his offer for a deal... Which, although he is irritated, he has to applaud you for. You're smart, and he loves smart people! It beats the idiotic brawn he often interprets many of the inhabitants of Hell to be run by, which he despises. So, although he never gets to own your lovely soul, he earns more respect for you as a person rather than just a nostalgic memory from the past. Seeing people less as people, such as viewing them as tools or objects for his own enjoyment, is a problem he has... One that you've gotten past due to being a bit more intelligent than some of the other sinners, and gained his respect as a person.

• The more time you spend together, the more you two become friends... Sure, it takes a long time, but it eventually happens. You find him to have his own sort of charm underneath the eerie exterior, and he sees you as someone at the hotel who really understands him and where he comes from. Sure, Mimzy is also someone who he sees similarly since they were friends in life, but she is rarely at the Hazbin Hotel, if ever. You're a guest of the establishment, though, so he can hang around with you more often.

• Though... you are beginning to have... memories coming back. Alastor sounds a bit like the man who killed you, so you have been thinking about your killer. It's been becoming distressing, because you are worried about meeting him in Hell. Sure, you want revenge, but you are not a very strong demon. There's about a 50/50 chance he might be stronger than you. It's gotten to the point where you decide to confide in Charlie about it. She decides that, the next day, she'd have everyone do art therapy with the task of drawing their greatest stressor. Of course, with your permission, of course...

• So, you alongside the other residents start the next day making art while eating breakfast. You all are not exactly sure who is going to be participating in the sharing process Charlie wants to try out, but you know you sure as Hell won't. You only plan to share it with Charlie... and maybe Alastor. You're not sure, yet.

• You doodle what you remember your killer looking like, the body he was burying, alongside the area you died in. Then, once you're done, you bring it over to Charlie. She seems a little disheartened, as if upset that the situation still impacts you to this day, but supportive. Then, she suggests that you could show it to Alastor. Maybe he will recognize him? And, if anybody could protect you if you do meet your killer in Hell, it'd be him. To be honest, you didn't even think of the fact that Alastor might recognize him!

• Now excitedly, you go to find Alastor. You notice that he also seems to be participating in the workshop. It is probably the first time you've seen him participate in one, but you always suspected he'd join in on one that involves drawing, since he had mentioned enjoying doodling things from time to time. You don't peek at it, considering the challenge is to draw what stresses you, but from the brief glimpse you get you see a bunch of chains.

• "Alastor! Hi! Charlie recommended I show you my drawing, in case you can help me... would you be willing to take a look?" He looks over to you, grinning widely. His first few thoughts are about how he can use whatever problem you have to try, once again, to sucker a deal from you. So, he nods his head rather quickly. "Of course, dear! Anything for a friend."

• You show him your picture, explaining that it's the man who killed you... only for his face to suddenly go pale. He's grinning, like always, but you can tell something is wrong. "Alastor? You okay?" For a few moments, he's quiet, before he snaps out of it. "Ah, yes, dear! I'm fine! The man is um... familiar to me. I just need to try to remember who he is... I'll let you know if I remember."

• He may sound calm, but inside, he's panicking. It's him. It's him. He killed you. He remembers who you were, too, considering the scenery. That, and you decided to keep your name. You were the one victim he didn't plan to kill. The only one that he felt a little remorse for, since you didn't fit the criteria of his usual victims. He killed based off of his weird morals, so killing someone who he usually wouldn't have hit him a bit. So much so, even in Hell, his mind wandered to you from time to time... Now, you're here, and you don't recognize him.

• By a little remorse, he means much more than he'd like to admit. He may be the cruel, sadistic Radio Demon, but back when he was human he still had a bit more care for others. That, and in Hell, it's a lot easier to find people who fit his murderous criteria he had when he was alive. So, although he doesn't go by that code as much in Hell, he still believes you didn't deserve it. You just were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he couldn't let a witness live.

• Meanwhile, you're completely oblivious to his internal panic. All you're noticing is that, as the days go by, he's keeping a closer and closer eye on you. While you would usually go and seek him out, now, you don't need to! It's his turn to do the seeking! Though, it is odd how he seems to know where you are all the time... That, and he's been knocking on your door the second after you wake up, almost like he's some sort of psychic, or something!

• Now, while Alastor is usually more obsessive and possessive when it comes to relationships, to the point where one may say he's a yandere by default... When Alastor actually is a yandere? You're screwed. Those behaviors are upped to the max. There's no escaping him.

• He's spying on you, yes. He normally would. Now, though, it's almost constantly. From your room, to the store, to the park, to anywhere else you go. He's a lot more obvious about it, too. He'd normally let you have other friends, but in this case, you're not allowed. Well, you are, but he will actively try to get you to not trust them. What if they're your killer? The only exception would be the others at the Hazbin Hotel, since he wants you to stay there. If you're too scared, you might leave, and it'd make it harder to find you to stalk you.

• He's also going to try to make deals with you much more often, now. Little ones at first, though, that don't involve your soul. If he gets you this, you have to get him that. If he does this, you need to do that. Small things, to slowly build you up to the big deal he plans to have you agree to. Like a frog in boiling water. You throw it into hot water it'll jump out, but if you slowly turn up the heat, it'll stay put until the end. You probably don't even notice the deals increasing in intensity.

• And so, when he approaches you with a deal one day, you aren't surprised. However, he knows this one is too good to pass up! Or, at least, it sounds too good until you agree. "Dear, I've figured out who your killer is! Though, I want to make a deal. I'll tell you who it is and make sure you're safe, and in return, you give me your soul. Now, before you disagree, think about it. If I have your soul, I can protect you much easier, as I'll be more connected to you. That, and they can't steal it from you and hurt you more than if they did have it. So, is it a deal?" He's made his points... and you're now so used to intense deals, that you agree to it, despite your unease. Giving up your soul is a big thing, but he's your friend, hasn't hurt you, and from what it sounds like... he wouldn't hurt you once he has your soul. It's to protect you, yeah?

• Once you do, shaking his hand to seal the deal, he immediately lets you in on his secret. His grip moves from your hand to your wrist, his grin wide as he speaks calmly. "Do not panic, dear. I did it. I killed you, because you saw something you shouldn't have." And with that, all his true colors are revealed. He admits to everything, from the stalking, to the obsessions, and to his true reason for wanting your soul: to keep you close.

• You, for one, are terrified. Your worst fear is realized. Your killer is stronger than you - a literal overlord- and now owns your soul. Your leash is much tighter and shorter than Husk's, too. You're constantly being dragged around by him. He shows you off, as if you are some sort of trophy. He probably brings you everywhere he goes, even to Cannibal Town and meetings, so you aren't out of his sight.

• If you try to get away from him, he will literally drag you back. Then, he's going to be holding onto your shoulder tightly for the next few hours. It's his passive aggressive way of saying "I'm not afraid to hurt you", without actually saying anything... As if you getting dragged by a chain wrapped around your throat wasn't enough to prove it.

• You are, in your own way, treated a bit better than Husk. That is, as long as you actually go along with his insanity. If you act good, he'll treat you to food- no, not the raw meat and demon flesh he eats. Foods that you actually like. He'll make sure you have the best room in the hotel. He'll even, begrudgingly, let you have a television. If you aren't so nice, though, he'll basically take away everything. The food you eat will be what he eats, you're probably going to be in his room so he can keep an eye on you, and there will be no technology allowed other than radio and things that came before it. The most you'll get is to be allowed to sleep in his bed, while he sleeps on one of the chairs in his room (that is, if he doesn't stay up all night to watch you).

• Charlie probably isn't aware of any of this. The most she might notice is that you two are hanging out more often, and that Alastor was your killer. However, she truly believes he can be redeemed, especially since your murder wasn't something he wanted. So, she won't question it, and believes a lot of the things Alastor says to explain your odd behavior. "They're a bit nervous, still, but we're working it all out." "They've been staying in my room because the prefer it there." "They got rid of their phone because they realized they were getting a bit addicted to social media." Whenever you try to say anything, though, you feel a slight tug on your chain, which keeps you quiet about it. Stupid deal...

• You aren't going anywhere. He's doing all of this with the goal of making it all up for you, in his own twisted way. Especially since he's now learned that you are the exact opposite of the type of person he would kill. If you act good, you'll see! He'll give you mostly everything you want. He'll shower you in apologies for your death, give you gifts, and maybe let you have some alone time... He just gets a little more than frustrated when you try to leave... Please, he's been waiting for this opportunity for years, so just let him apologize for killing you... Even if his apology lasts for all of eternity.

[saturnrevolution]

mercury through houses

1st house

The forever overthinker, the one that looks for flaws in order to feel alive. The wise one. You are someone that values honesty and speaking up, but you might not always feel confident in your words. Your mind changes a lot - which is not a bad, thing as it is tied up to your personality, your mood, and your view of the world. You enjoy traveling with your body & mind. Practicing mindfulness and meditation are tools you can use to get over blockages and fully express your authentic self. You live to express your thoughts and your purpose is to inspire others with your stories & way of thinking, appearance, or style. This also makes you sensitive to words, and other people’s opinions & hyper-aware of your surroundings. It’s important to ask questions, but learn when it’s time to listen and not research, but rather observe.

2nd house

You have a practical mind, and you select the subjects that are worthy of your attention. Sometimes, this can make people feel left out, but when it comes to being focused on what really interests you - you are able to master any skill. You might be into self-development and are solution-oriented. Money comes easily to you if you think of a clear strategy of how to earn it or you could manifest it if you tried. You enjoy spending money on anything that gets your mind excited: courses, podcasts, books, tech, and business. Communication for you can become a source of income if you do use it wisely. You might get bored easily and can sometimes find it hard to decide on a single career path. Your self-worth is connected to high expectations and that might make you attached to a certain ideal or status in life.

3rd house

Idea-driven, thinks in stories and is a great storyteller. Your voice was made to be heard, if only you trust yourself enough to get it out there. You might have a talent for writing, public speaking, visually representing your thoughts, and singing. You have a great ability to make connections and have a good memory when learning. You are able to store a lot of information, sometimes useless and you get inspired by the ordinary, daily activities of life. Your attention to detail might sometimes make you overly critical, but your ability to not hold grudges against people helps you adapt quite easily. You are friendly and open to conversation, humorous and social when wanting to be. You might have siblings, but might sometimes put your ideas in front of others, while disregarding theirs. Your anxiety can affect your need to be social, so try less noise and more presence.

4th house

Your feelings travel through the mind, you always need to be understanding them on a deeper, rational level. This is why you only open up about your struggles to those people with whom you have built a strong emotional connection and feel comfortable around. In your private moments, you enjoy learning or consuming the type of information you are interested in. You like staying connected to your family members and you usually relate stories of the past, living off nostalgia. Your home is often your place of study or work. You might move out a lot. Your cultural background might be important to you or your ancestry, you might have inherited talents from generations. You might find it difficult to decide between wanting stability or freedom, but spending time alone is the best way to understand your needs.

5th house

Your childhood self might have been talkative or loud, always having something to say. You are someone that’s really talented and has an innate sense of mastering their hobbies, while you’re young. Growing up makes it harder for you to enjoy life, as you start asking too many questions. Your journey is to go back to the things that made you enthusiastic when a kid. That’s when you truly allow your life to flow and trust your instincts. You might have a few flings, might think a lot about having kids though. If you do have kids, they will bring out this playful side of you that you tend to bury within worries. Allowing yourself to endure the pleasures of life, in hobbies, in going out, and away from putting too much pressure on performing - will improve your overall well-being & love life.

6th house

You are the analyst. You enjoy directing information and making sure things are in order in your life. Your routine and keeping up with it is what gives you a sense of stability, but also you find it kind of fun. You are interested in the way your body works and reacts to different foods and changes in the environment. You can sometimes get so caught up in the daily that you actually forget to truly take care of it, by allowing yourself to take a break, take a breather, and rest, away from schedules and perfection. Your co-workers are important and you need to feel like your ideas are being appreciated in order to perform well at work. People come to you when they need recommendations, as you have tried everything and were able to find just the right balance of things. Don’t forget about your mental health & breathe.

7th house

Communication is the main factor that helps you build long-lasting relationships, but also the factor that might ruin them if you do not open up enough. You might have a fear of showing your opinions in romantic relationships, as you would be scared of being judged or misunderstood. In reality, the relationships you attract are here to teach you more about your mindset than you think. You are not a fan of oversharing, but often end up doing so. You have the potential of marrying your best friend - someone that understands your intellect and to whom you have a strong mental connection, which can also increase arguments, sometimes just for fun. You might work best or learn best when in a team, sharing ideas with others generates more ideas and you can create new business models if you find the right match.

8th house

Your mind is always looking to find the deeper meaning of things, whether you are aware of it or not. You might also be extra naughty sometimes, but this side of you is only shared with those you feel safe to do so or you’d rather keep it to yourself. You might be psychic or have a strong intuition, but need to allow it to grow and not deny it. Your thoughts about the inexplicable or weird subjects no one seems to care about are what keep you up at night. You have a way of attracting money through inheritance or pairing up with others, a relationship, a marriage, or gaining money together. Intimacy to you is the moment in which you are able to share anything without shame. When drunk, you might overshare, but usually, you are quite private with your feelings, especially when intense.

9th house

If you could, you would travel with your mind everywhere. There is only so much you can know about the world and you want to experience it all and then talk about it. Mostly the talking part though. You are open-minded and ready for a new challenge, get bored easily if not provoked mentally, and love to jump from one subject to another. You might be passionate about travel, foreign cultures, languages, philosophy, ethics, law, society, and purpose - the big questions of life. But when it comes to the small ones - related to daily duties, it might be harder for you to be able to promptly answer. Details are cool and all, but what about history, right? Humor might be your go-to bible. You might travel a lot or meet people from different backgrounds and be interested in your own cultural heritage. You have the potential to teach.

10th house

You are extremely goal-oriented, always looking for the next thing to achieve, and never stopping to understand how much you have actually done. Hard-working and future-oriented, you can sometimes get lost in your career with your mind and ignore other, more personal matters. Your feelings are sometimes numbed by your busy nature. This comes from a lack of emotional understanding when young & a heavier set of expectations set on you from early on. You have the potential to own a company or to be in a managing position. But sometimes you need to enjoy life a little more - this will inspire you and offer you a greater vision. Your career should be intellectually stimulating and the environment needs to be one where your ideas are implemented.

11th house

Forward-thinking and open to new experiences, you are a social butterfly. You are someone that gets mental stimulation through friendships, discussions, debates, groups of people with common interests, and talking on injustice and social issues. You are not the one to shut up about the things you believe in, especially when you feel that someone is being left out or misunderstood. You need a place where you feel safe to be your authentic self and this usually translates into your friend group or a community of people that have the same hobbies or views on life as you. You might be the one that is in charge, as you have a future vision and are able to mediate conflict. This makes you quite impartial, but can also make you cold, not being able to tell who is really there for you.

12th house

You allow your mind to be taken over by emotions. You are a dreamer and you might actually have really vivid dreams at night, but also by day. You need to be careful to not get stuck in a fantasy that doesn’t have the potential to manifest into reality. Unless you get to know your subconscious mind better, through meditation, through sitting in solitude and listening to your thoughts, you will always be putting the needs of others first and adjusting based on what they want. What is it that you want? Truly? What have you always wanted, for yourself? Your imagination and ability to manifest have no boundaries, so trust that inner calling. You would make a great researcher, artist, or spiritual worker. Finding characters in books, movies, and games that you relate to will be a way to get to know yourself better.

[justbelievinginmagic]

ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 1: a deal, a deal, a deal!!

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: she said the words - "i wish . . . i wish the goblin king would save me." what is said has been said. nothing can take back a wish except for even more powerful magic - a fae deal. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, pg-13 themes with no explicit smut, world building!!, strong language, suggestive language, faerie lore!!, tension, enemies to lovers, unequal power dynamics, manipulation, faerie glamour, implied kidnapping, blonde, long hair hyunjin being a beautiful faerie king. word count: 4.7k -> next chapter series masterlist

Y/N was floating through life with no goal in sight. Except to wander home to her small childhood bedroom after college courses and her job at the local supermarket to read her books. Vanilla-scented and yellow-tinted pages felt like heaven under her fingertips as she fell into her books’ world day after day.

Pages of books kept her company for many years – as the world spun past. Fantasy worlds that were pretty and dangerous and wild and dreamy. Worlds where the heroine wins and the damsel finds her true love. Admittedly, she wished for it. Wished for something far away – someone to twirl her into their arms and keep her safe and sound. Fantastical but safe. A place to be herself while someone loved her. Instead of facing the world, invisible as she greets the next customer and walks the halls of a university as another face of the hundred-person class and returns home as the adult daughter locked up in her bedroom.

Never did she imagine it’d happen – late at night, on a rain-soaked Sunday. Her family was away from home, and Y/N left alone in the darkness of her childhood home. It hadn’t bothered her. Not as long as she had her books.

There was a clatter of rain against the doors of her balcony. Her eyes flashed away from her book to look over at them. A rickety branch scratched at a door like an old witch’s finger prodding at the glass, casting an eerie shadow onto her carpeted floor. It was frightening in the orange-yellow light of the slowly-dying incandescent fluorescent lights of her childhood room. The ancient lights aching to be replaced painted the room in a sunset nostalgia most days, but, tonight, it was painted her bedroom in a grimy film of age. Everything felt eerie and old and off.

The wallpaper, a fading pink and white with soft bears painted by the baseboards, rotted into a yellow tinged thing. Her bed was a hand-me-down full bed of fluffy duvets and old laced comforters with her bed posts holding a long sagging canopy of white tulle she insisted upon a tween.  She had always favored the fantastical and soft and, despite aging, she had to admit she forgot how long ago it had been when she had chosen the sets of softened bedding and moth-eaten tulle.

Her knick-knacks were of the same theme, gentle and girly of old childhood memories she couldn’t bear to toss aside even in her young adult age. Beloved stuffed animals (some that were soft to the touch while others had hardened scratchy fur from sitting collecting dust on long forgotten shelves), sparkling shimmering water globes (of places she had never been), paint-chipped jewelry boxes on a creaking overfull vanity (the wooden boxes were full of costume bracelets, rings, and necklaces of theatre days long passed), crafts and hobbies piled in a plastic bin in the corner (from bracelet making tools to dried-out paints and moth-eaten yarn balls), and old piles of high school notebooks peaking out from underneath her bed skirt (something she kept in the phantom fear that she may need them for college courses.) College courses that she felt empty when attending. Everything felt fleeting yet not. It felt stupid and overwhelming and – she wished things could be easier.

Easier like diving into her books. With her favorite book in her grasp, the yellow old book crinkling in her hands, she sighed as she whispered to it.

“If I could be any place but here…” she hummed. “I don’t want to work tomorrow – especially with the rain.” A deep sigh escaped her. “I wish…”

There was a pause in her words as she settled back into comfortable pillows. The rustling of her sheets disguising a murmured ‘she’s going to say the words’ from under her bed, from her closet.

“I wish the Goblin King would save me – steal me away to be his and only his.”

It wasn’t said in agony to a lucky penny or in plea besides a wishing well. She had simply laughed a little laugh as she curled up in her bed, hugging the book closer to her face as she read on. It was almost her favorite part – the royal ball!

Now, wishes don’t care for rhyme or even sincerity. (Both were lacking from her plea.) However, it was the perfect time for a wish to be granted - the words have been spoken at the stroke of midnight on the highest of full moons on the first day of spring.

There is a shatter somewhere; the branches of the tree outside her window scraaattcching the glass with a shriek. The wind made the house tremble and rumble as energy flooded the air, tangible enough it made her eyes look up, before with a snap - the lights switch off.

A crash of lightning and a roar of thunder clashed louder than ever. There was no settling silence of electronics and fridges and fans. No, the world growled as the storm grew. Until in a whirl of sparkling shimmer star dust and a burst of cold storm air, the balcony doors flung open to reveal a man. No, not an ordinary man. He was far too ethereal to be a normal man. (The idea of it being a robber didn’t even flicker through her mind. Though, the possibility of this being a dream did.)

The soft chimes of bell rang in her ears as he took a step into the room. He was near glowing like an angel, haloed by some shimmering light. Blonde hair that tickled the back of his neck in long strands fluttered in the storm wind. Dark thick brows pursed, partially hidden by strands of his golden hair that framed his angular face, and striking blue eyes lazily stared at her from within the dark shadows of his brow. Poutful raspberry-kissed lips that smirked at her. Gilded chains hung around his lean neck, displaying his collarbones with a sharpness. Elaborate piercings decorated both of his curved elf-like ears; all gold chained, red jeweled, and shimmering from the distant amber streetlight.

He wore fine tailored dark clothes as if he were part of the night storm himself; leathered pants that gleamed in the light, a lacy sort of shirt that curved tightly over rounded muscles and sinewy tendons and shadowed by a heavy cloak made of oil-slick dark feathers. Darker than night and covered in that sparkly dust that had brought him into her bedroom. His hands were adorned in many rings and one hand that had twists of dark silver that formed a sort of claw, covering his knuckles and fingertips like a gauntlet. He had tawny-tan skin that glowed from the nearby streetlights, with an unnatural. . . gloss of sparkle. As if his skin was made of crushed starlight.

Beautiful. . . tempting. . . frighteningly ethereal.

He stole her breath away and he knew it as he stared at her. The look in his eyes… it was like nothing  she’d ever seen in someone’s gaze towards her before. Dark and broody and yet something sharply cutting in his eyes. It wasn’t adoration. It wasn’t jealous or anger or frustration. Magnetic. Possession, yearning, power. He was powerful. He demanded attention, no – he demanded her attention. His head tilted as he looked on at her. Her gaze trickled down the fine tendons of his neck to realize he hadn’t taken a breath since entering – his chest did not rise or fall as he stared on at her with dark storm eyes. Her legs curled closer to her chest as the old book tumbled from her grasp, falling to the floor. Forgotten.

He didn’t move and, for a moment, she didn’t either. Her heart rushed in her head like the ocean; the rhythm a calling drum to his ears. She took a shuddering breath as she spoke.

“You’re him . . . aren’t you?” Y/N breathed. Realizing, he felt familiar. Not in the sense that she had seen him before– she’d remember someone so handsome. But rather it was like déjà vu. A familiarity with someone you’ve never seen before. But she had read of him over and over and over. He wasn’t what she pictured but maybe it was because she couldn’t imagine someone so hauntingly striking. She scrambled from her bed, almost tripping over the plentiful blankets and comforters.

“You’re the Goblin King.” she clarified.

That was the only explanation. He wore no crown, but she realized he didn’t need it. The power that radiated from him felt tangible like static before a lightning strike. She had read about him in her storybooks for years – folklore of faerie and the Underground something that had always intrigued her but. . . she had never thought it real. Not in reality. It was just a fantasy. A dream that she had wished upon many times before.

He didn’t smile at her, but his petaled lips twitched. His lips were so beautiful and soft looking (she wanted to kiss them, dedicate herself to making the soft flesh swollen and red from nips and kisses. She needed to. She had to.) The thought made her eyes widen in surprise at herself. Swallowing, she blinked glancing away from him.

He smiled then, the curve of his lips forming a sneer of sorts as he watched her with his engulfing eyes.

“Why are you here?” she queried out, hand reaching for the bedpost of her bed for support as she raised her gaze again.

Red-cheeked, she tried to maintain his hypnotic gaze. Was this a dream? She saw a man appear out of nowhere, so, maybe it was. She had been reading more romance books recently. . .

“Think closely, Y/N,” the fae finally spoke, voice low.

It felt like it shook her bones despite its strange gentility compared to the storm that still roared behind him.

Think closely. . .

She had been reading his book but… she had…

“I wished for you,” Y/N queried.

It wasn’t quite a question but it felt… not enough. How could a simple wish of him come true? If that was the case, wouldn’t fae be stealing women and men left and right? She had said those words before over the years (especially as a child)… so why now??

“I’ve come for you; to save you, dear thing,” he agreed.

“It was – I’m sor- I didn’t think you were real,” Y/N babbled, brows pursed almost painfully so.

“I am, just for you,” he replied as his hand rose to flick with grandiose. The balcony doors tumbled shut with a slam.

Silence. Darkness.. Just him and her…

“I don’t mean to be rude but—I can’t really, uh, go with you?” she said, still wrapped around her bed post.

His brows crinkled into a furrow beautifully like a Greek statue. Brows of agony and despair, beautiful despite its emotion. But just like a marble statue, his darkened blue eyes were inhuman. Like obsidian glass or a creature’s eyes, reflective and eerie. Angered. Betrayed even. Before they rose to meet yours once more. And like a façade, his eyes gleamed with light, sparkling and enchanting sea blue rather than the crashing waves before.

“I’ve brought you a gift,” he tempted instead, stepping closer into the room. Closer to her.  

His smile was one of sweet temptation, almost candy-sweet with his soft lips and pearly teeth, as he prowled closer. A part of her wished that if fae stories were true that other tall tales – such as the vampiric tale of the supernatural being unable to enter one’s home without permission – were true too. A chill climbed up her back as he inched closer to her.

(Little did Y/N know that she had given him permission. Not, just now with her conversation, her wish, but when she read her little Labyrinth book ‘til it was worn soft and yellowed from the oils of her fingertips. Devotion and curiosity were all the fae needed to make a link.)

He lifted something up between them – something that he hadn’t had in his hands before. An orb of some sort. Crystalline and faintly glowing in the moonlight that poured into the room. The metallic-claws that decorated his fingers in rows of rings didn’t graze the thing nor did they reflect in the perfectly clear orb. The man’s hand wasn’t visible through it either– like he was a ghost or a vampire in a mirror. A perfect bubble of gleaming light, crystalline and shining with chromatic aberrations. Her ears rung as she looked at it.

“What is that?” she queried carefully, stepping away from the safety of the bedpost to get a closer look.

“It’s a crystal – nothing more,” his voice was low as thunder, rumbling and grumbling like a tiger’s purr as she watched him.

With grace, the orb danced upon his hand, rolling this way and that with the fae never dropping the thing. It didn’t even look difficult for him. Y/N kept her gaze on the crystal for a moment, getting dizzy as he continued to shift it over his hand like it was a boat fighting the tides.

“But –” he tossed the crystal up.

Y/N followed the orb’s trajectory only to be spooked when there was a presence behind her rather than in front of her. The King – through some sort of magic – was beside her, a hand outstretched to catch the orb right beside her face. Y/N startled jumping away a bit, into his chest. She felt caged in by him. His proximity was frightening tempting.

When she breathed in, his smell engulfed her; there was something ancient in his scent. Not like old perfume but something like earthly old. He smelled of fire-smoke, damp moss after a rainshower, something deeper like rosemary or thyme, and something sweet like. . . honey? She wanted to lean back into it, rub her face into his neck like a cat would preen against their owner. She wanted to decipher each scent, find its earthly copy and make a cologne just so she’d never leave its whirlwind of comfort.

Instead, she froze against his cold form.

She knew the Goblin King in her books was tricky - fae often were. There were a handful of types – from those who stole away women from their husbands, to those who caused mischief, and to those who would serve but at a price. It was easy enough to read, not easy to live. She couldn’t tell why she felt this way – sure, he was handsome but… she had control. She wasn’t some teenager. The fact she kept falling into these daydreams of him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him – it scared her. Not knowing where the faerie traps were and how to evade them was scary for her.

The Goblin King smiled; cold snow-sky eyes met crinkled before he raised the crystal up to her eye level.

“But, if you turn it this way,” his hand tilted the orb, as did her head as if she were a puppet on a string, “look into it; it will show you your dreams.”

There was a beat as a hand rose to rest on her hip, cold as ice through her white long-sleeved shirt.

“I’ve seen them.” He whispered tauntingly.

Y/N did not look into the orb. Her eyes remained locked on his. His cruel eyes. How could he have such a sweet smile, and yet the deep blue sea of his eyes felt bottomless, cold and dark?

“But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl.” He chided, tilting his head to lean closer to her. “Who works a job at the store and lives trapped in her childhood home.”

It was cruel – a cruel reminder of the words that those around her all say. How she is stuck in time, stuck in her hometown, stuck, stuck, stuck. Ordinary girl, ordinary town, ordinary job. Nothing like the faerie in front of her.

There was a snicker in her room, and her head whipped around to look about the dark space. It was empty.

He yanked his hand away from her, drawing her attention to him once more. Her eyes steeled at his words, and the king’s smirk grew. He hummed a melody, familiar and distant. It was almost a pleased tone before he stepped in front of her once more. He was taller than her – especially when she saw he wore heeled boots.

“Do you want it?” he offered, the orb held out once more.

The words were said almost kindly. Knowing if she took it, it’d be taking an apple from a serpent.

“It’s tempting. . . but what is the catch?” she finally said, swallowing as she looked at the crystal once more.

His smile was sharp then, and she saw fangs then.

“Your loyalty, your belief, you.” He listed. “You. Everything from you. Your mortality will be mine and you’ll never see this place again, these people again, this dwelling again.”

There was a tenderness to his face as he continued. “I’ll save you, sweet thing. You can live in your dreams with me – beyond this realm.”

“No.”

It was an easy answer. No. She would not devote herself to someone so wholly. A fae of a man especially. Y/N read all the fairy tales out there – all the romance novels and stories of love, deceit, devotion, and betrayal. This would take and take and take. She could see her future – a shell of herself. Hell, she had seen it in the moments of delusion tonight where she wanted nothing but him.

“Don’t defy me.” he warned, so gently. Almost helpfully.  

Defy. This was not being saved. This was no prince riding on a stallion and climbing to her balcony to steal her away. No. . . no, this man was no savior. She had read the fairytale he was from – read it from cover to cover more than she could count. The Goblin King – cruel as he is merciful - will grant your wish for a price.

“I do not want to be saved then. I take back my wish.”

“What is said has been said,” he stated with a chuckle.

He was laughing at her. In fact, she heard a chitter in her room like a guffaw behind her bed skirt. Her head whipped around to look.

The corner of her duvet swayed in the wind. Nothing was out of the ordinary again.

“I don’t care – I say no.” she claimed, glancing back him.

“The words have been spoken,” he claimed again as he bent down to whisper to her.

“You’re no match for me, Y/N. I will treat you well, little thing.”

Thing. It ached of ownership. Of possession rather than protection or freedom.

“I don’t want to be your thing.”

“You should’ve thought of that before making such a wish. What do I gain in saving you otherwise, hm?” he retorted, as if explaining something to a child. “I want you – or another human for my trouble.”

No way! She’d never sacrifice someone for a wish! Her eyes widened at the very thought before her brows furrowed. What could she do? What could she do?

“What if we made a deal?” She fought back.

Her question made a crack of thunder rumble the house like an electric field. It buzzed and hummed… or maybe it wasn’t thunder at all, but voices. She heard them then. Chittering and chattering. Low hums of interest and the haunting chants of “a deal, a deal, a deal!!” Little voices, squeaky and animalistic chant in excitement. It was then she finally saw a goblin’s head from within her closet. One and then another and another. Too many as if her room was nothing but a zoo to the creatures. A crowded room of voyeurs, an unknown audience to her and the King’s dispute.

Long limbed apparitions clung to her white and pink walls with spindly hands. A monstrous thing under her bed with glowing eyes heaved a rumble, the bed skirt fluttering. A winged creature on her tulled canopy swayed with the buzzing excitement of a cicada. Little things peering out at her with wings and horns and fangs and yellowed eyes and radioactive red pupils.  

It was a thing out of nightmares. She yelped a bit, eyes widening in fear.

There was a tsk from the King, and the creatures disappeared into their hiding spots in a rush and a huff. Like they were playing hide and seek. Her room looked normal again but she could feel their pupils trained on her back now. Her gaze settled back onto the Goblin King. Annoyance lingered on the corner of his mouth, the pouty thing twitching faintly before he asked: “You’d like to make a deal instead of seeing your dreams come true?”

A faerie deal never meant anything good. But neither was losing herself for a man, no, a creature of another world with far too many secrets as shown by the creatures prowling under her bed and in her wardrobe.

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Any way to have this wish be forgotten.”

The King sneered. The flash of emotion so quick she almost didn’t spot it.

He was insulted by this human. How dare she be so outlandish… special but if she so wished to be rebellious. He’d give her a challenge fit for such insult.

“A faerie deal is serious matter, Y/N.” He warned before, with an air of nonchalance, he moved aside.

Circling her once more like she was nothing but a soon-to-be carcass and him a vulture bird.

“The terms shall be this. If you can defeat my labyrinth and reach my true throne in the castle beyond the Goblin City within 13 hours, you will no longer be mine; my claim will be relinquished. Your will shall be your own once more. You will be a human.”

He said the final words like they were sickly – he couldn’t imagine wanting a human life when high fae have everything. (But she wouldn’t be a high fae, would she? No, a human became a changeling if caught or stolen away. And that was different.)

 Y/N had no choice but to agree. She had read faerie tales. Humans and faeries didn’t mix – they weren’t meant to. If she followed her wish, if she went with him, she really feared what would become of herself. The idea of forever as someone’s is only good when there is trust. And she couldn’t trust him. A stranger, a king of magnetic power, a faerie. Someone who wished to own her for his own gain. Not out of affection or respect.

“And if you do not succeed,” he continued on with a laugh at the tips of his words. (The goblins echoed him with chortles that crawled up her spine.) “You are mine – as promised by the power of the Wish. All of you. Soul, mind, and form.”

He was behind her again, his words soft in her hair as he brushed it aside observingly. His fingers chilled her throat; his touch felt icy cold.

“Do you agree, Y/N? If you break this contract by your own will or demise,” It was formally said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Caging her in his arms as she heard the hum of anticipation from the ghouls and goblins in her room. “You shall be mine.”

She didn’t hesitate even as her form shuddered. “I agree.” Y/N said.

There was a change in the wind outside; a flash of lightning blinded her as a deal was struck.

“Pity,” he murmured, low in his throat as he let go of her.

As he passed her, she saw the world in front of her melt away in a wash of watercolor blurs. No longer was she in her childhood bedroom with the comfort of her novels and objects. No, now it was a desert. An orange-purple atmosphere like a distant fire roared over the sea of sand. Rolling sand dunes tumbled towards a grand darkened maze. The Labyrinth. A twisting series of winding paths that seemed endless, all leading to a far-in-the-distance castle. It looked impossible. Dead-ends galore and sections that seemed to be completely unrelated to one another. 13 hours. How was she to get through this in less than a day! A clash of despair rattled her bones – especially when a damp chill danced over her skin. A suffocating heaviness was in the air, as well as the realization, she was underground. Dust and dirt and old air from centuries past lingered.

Looking up, there was no sky, no stars, nor moon above but a darkened cave ceiling full of stalactites and in some cases large sky lights – or cracks in the ground. These cracks let spots of sunlight in, shining over the desert sea in pools of light. Where there was no sunshine pouring down on the maze, there was a haunting golden glow from roaring fire pits high above the maze in watch-out points and floating candles she noted. Squinting her eyes, she could make out thousands of candles decorating the rocky labyrinth. It made everything look orange-red hazy. Shadows cast into the maze making it look even more confusing.

In each of these sunspots away from the Labyrinth, there were different things flourishing outside the maze she noticed– some sunspots were home to a jungle of vegetation; others were conveniently where rain-water ponds appeared; most had small huts and communities.  

She and the Goblin King were in one of those sky lights’ brightness now, sunshine cascading over the pair of them. Half dead foliage and trees curled up from the barren sand, with long tendrils of rotting vines and branches twisting out. The bark and rockwork, despite its dead nature had the same type of glimmer to them as the fae man. It sparkled in the sunlight like someone dropped glitter on it. Magic thrived here – even in the dead and inanimate.

The King looked out of place in such a desolate land – his desolate land. Something beautiful around such emptiness and darkness. His form seemed to glow in the natural light, especially when shadowed by such darkness in the Underground, but Y/N’s gaze focused on the daunting path ahead instead of his angelic beauty.

How could he be so beautiful? It was unnatural.

Her eyes tried to map out a path, only to find no true path to the distant grand castle. The world seemed to curve and prevent her from following a straight line to the grand dark castle. It seemed hopeless. Surely there was a way to plot a way onwards, but the Labyrinth didn’t deal in kindnesses it seemed.

“Turn back,” his voice startled her as he encouraged from her side. “While you still can, my dear Runner.”

Biting her lip, she swallowed as she looked between him and his castle.

“It doesn’t look that far,” she commented, her back turning to him.

(Bravado.)

The King lurched forward, his own back bending to be beside her ear once more.

“It’s further than you think,” he taunted, almost sing-song in tune. “And time is short.”

With a flick of his hand, a grand clock appeared floating in mid-air. She startled, jolting back. Her back settling into his broad chest. His smirk was in her hair as a metal claw-tipped hand steadied her.

The clock – the grand clock of the Underground - was haunting as it was magical. It was a golden shade of wood and its clockface made of intricately ornate stained glass. Its numbers were curled and elegant, counting from 1 to 13. As of now, it was at the top of the 13th hour.

“13 hours, as promised,” he cooed. “13 hours and, then, you are mine, dear Y/N.”

And in an icy rush of wind and soft chimes in the air, her hair was pushed forward, blowing into her eyes, and his form, once lurking over her shoulder, was gone.

“Such a pity I must wait for you,” his voice hummed in the cold.

Then, Y/N, the Labyrinth Runner, was alone in a different realm she heard of in storybooks, but, unlike her many books, she didn’t know how the story would end.

[shelbystales]

Honor and Blood - Part Twenty Three

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Read previous parts here:  1 -  2  -  3  -  4 -  5 -  6 -  7 -  8 -  9 -  10 -  11 - 12 -  13 -  14 -  15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22

Summary: you are a gypsy and your family lives near Birmingham. Tommy Shelby needs a favor and Johnny Dogs says you’re the one he should ask for. A meeting is scheduled and when Tommy meets you, he is instantly drawn to you.

Warning: Swearing, fluff, mild smut

A/N:  Please comment and interact. tell me what you think! it means a looot to me if you do!

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

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After Tommy left, you went for a quick breakfast, deliberately ignoring your father's presence as you enjoyed your meal. You felt too proud to reach out to him; it was he who should apologize.

When you finished eating, you decided to leave quickly. You felt a bit sad and in need of care. So, you walked to your Aunt's caravan, seeking some solace.

Your aunt welcomed you with a warm embrace and a knowing look. She had always been more than just an aunt to you; she was a confidant, a friend, a link to your mother's memory, and a source of wisdom.

"Y/n, dear, what brings you here?" she said, her eyes filled with an understanding that only family could provide.

You smiled and returned the embrace. "I needed to clear my head, Aunt. It's been a rough time."

She nodded and gestured for you to sit beside her. "It's always the way of the world, child. Life has its storms and its calm seas. But we are strong, like the roots of the trees and the flow of the river. We endure."

“Yes, we do” you smiled as you sat down next to her

“Tell me, what happened?” she asked with a caring look, “is it about the shop?”

“yes and no. I had a fight with dad” you told her

“He has been acting weirdly lately. Distant” she noted

“He has. He’s pushing me away” you said, your voice carrying disappointment

“Well, dear… if there’s anything I know about your father is that he is a distant man” she shrugged

You sighed, looking down at your hands. "I know, Aunt. But it feels different this time. I just wish he would open up, especially considering everything that's been happening."

She reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Y/n, your father is a complicated man. He carries many burdens and secrets. Sometimes he forgets how to be anything but distant."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of frustration and empathy. "I just want to help, you know? And it's not just about the shop; it's about the family."

She nodded in understanding. "I know, dear. Family means the world to us."

As you shared your thoughts, your aunt's wise eyes gazed at you. "You know, crafting jewelry has always been a way for us to bond and express our emotions. Would you like to make something together? Maybe it could help clear your mind" she smiled

You looked up at her, a small smile forming on your face. "I'd love that."

She handed you some delicate, shimmering beads and intricate wirework tools. You started to work with the wire, remembering your mom as you did.

"You still remember how to do it," your aunt praised with a big smile as she began crafting herself.

“How can I forget? But talking about dad… I worry he is in trouble, you know?” you blurted out

“He can get himself out of trouble, y/n. He always has” she said and you nodded “he’s a big man, dear. Not a child. He knows what he is doing”

“You are right” you breathed out

“You know, your mom visited me in me dreams tonight” she said making you smile

“Really?” you asked, your eyes shining with happiness

“Yes, did you know me sister was the one who taught me how to craft jewelry? She was so talented with her hands. The clothes she made, the tapestry, the jewelry… everything her hands crafted was perfect” your aunt spoke with nostalgia on her voice

“She taught me too” you smiled remembering “she was so patient and the way her hands flowed was just magical” you chuckled. 

Your aunt smiled warmly. "Your mother was an extraordinary woman, just like you. She would be so proud of the person you've become."

You smiled, your eyes watering a bit, feeling moved by your aunts words “I miss her” 

“Me too, dear. But don’t forget  you carry her spirit within you," she pointed at your mom's necklace around your neck. Remember, the jewelry we craft is not just for beauty. It's a piece of our souls, a link to our past, and a legacy for our future. It carries the strength and spirit of your mom, closest to your heart”

You wiped away a tear and nodded, your heart heavy yet also filled with the warmth.

As you both continued to craft jewelry, you felt a deep sense of connection to your mother's memory, your family's traditions, and your own inner strength. The intricate pieces you were creating felt like a tribute to the strong and talented women who had come before you.

The hours passed and you shared stories and quiet moments of crafting with your aunt, the caravan filled with warmth and nostalgia. Your aunt's presence and wisdom provided the comfort and guidance you needed, a reminder that even in times of turmoil, your family's love remained a source of strength. As time passed the earrings you were making slowly came together. 

The two of you gave the finished touches to the jewelry as the sun began to set. The earrings were a work of art, a combination of intricate beads, and delicate wirework. You marveled at the final result, holding the pair up to the light to catch the way they shimmered and sparkled.

Your aunt looked at the earrings with a smile, her eyes filled with pride. "Your mother would have been overjoyed to see what you've created, y/n. These are exquisite."

You nodded, your heart filled with a sense of accomplishment "I feel closer to her” you smiled “thank you for this”. Your aunt embraced you with a loving hug and you left her caravan wearing your new earrings. 

Seeing the sun was now setting, you made your way to the caravan to get a change of clothes before heading to Thomas's place. 

As you approached Tommy's house, you felt a mix of anticipation and comfort. But when you arrived and knocked on the door, it wasn't him who came to answer it. Polly was the one who opened it and greeted you with a smile.

“Oh, hi honey. Bloody Thomas isn’t here. But come in” She walked inside. She looked tired, hair messy and dark circles under her eyes… it even seemed like she had been crying. You followed her in, closing the door behind you. 

“Has something happened?” you asked putting your small bag of clothes in the floor next to the sofa, as you joined Polly, sitting beside her

“Just Thomas being Thomas” she said, with a hint of disgust in her voice “sometimes i hate his guts” 

“What did he do?” you asked, afraid of the answer

“He called the fucking cops on Ada’s husband. Bloody bastards barged in like devils seconds after he held his newborn child” She took her hand to her face “Oh, Ada’s screams still echo in my mind” 

“Ada gave birth?” you asked with a smile and she nodded 

“Yes, to beautiful baby boy” she gave a shy smile 

“I can’t believe Thomas did that… did he know she was giving birth?” you asked innocently

 “Of course he fucking knew. You know y/n, Tommy is a bad man to many people. Don’t forget that” she warned as she lit herself a cigarette “what some tea?” you nodded as you digested her sentence

“Do you know where he is?” you asked as she handed you a cup of tea

“Probably at the garrison” she said “Ada doesn’t want to see me anymore” she vented “she is shutting us all out”

“I’m so sorry” You sipped the tea, the warm liquid offering some comfort in the midst of this revelation. It was hard to reconcile the man you loved with the actions Polly described.

Polly's tired eyes studied you, her gaze softened with a touch of motherly concern. "Y/n, you've got a kind heart, but don't ever let it blind you to what we are and what we do."

As you continued your conversation with Polly, you couldn't help but wonder where Tommy might be and what could have driven him to make such a decision. After you finished your tea, you left your cup on the center table and rose from your seat.

"I'll see if I can find Tommy. Maybe he'll tell me what the fuck he had in mind," you said with a chuckle.

"A whole bunch of nothingness, that's what all bloody men have in their brains. Can you get me that bottle before you go?" Polly asked, rolling her eyes and pointing at a whisky bottle on one of the shelves. You nodded, retrieving the bottle as Polly reached for your empty cup. However, something about the cup seemed to catch her attention, and she looked at it in surprise.

"What?" you asked as you handed her the bottle.

"Have you been feeling okay?" Polly asked, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

You furrowed your brow, puzzled by her question. "Yes, I have," you replied, chuckling. "Why?"

Polly's smile remained as she mentioned the tea leaves. She handed you the cup back, her gaze steady. "I noticed something interesting in your tea leaves."

You hesitated, not taking the cup from her hand. "Oh, I don't know how to read them. I never learned," you admitted. "What does it say?"

"Let's hope Ada isn't vengeful to call the coppers when it's your turn." she said with a cocky smile

You looked at her, shocked by the implications. "What?" you asked, your eyes widening. "But I've been taking precautions, tracking my cycle."

Polly offered a simple, if somewhat fatalistic, explanation. "It's not like math,dear. Sometimes, our cycle changes."

Your mind raced, contemplating the possible consequences of the situation. The unexpected revelation had thrown you on a loop of worries, but you couldn't dwell on it now. And you knew well that tea leaves were not one hundred percent precise.

Your priority now was to find Tommy.

"I'll be going now, Polly," you said, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. "Thank you for the tea and the talk. I'll catch up with you later."

Polly nodded, "Be careful out there, y/n.”

You made your way towards the Garrison, a place where you often found Tommy. As you walked, your thoughts returned to the unsettling news about the tea leaves. Being a mom right now was never in your plans. Oh, what would your father say...

You pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the garrison and stepped into the dimly lit interior. The atmosphere was heavy with the scent of cigarettes and sweat, a testament to the long hours and hard decisions made within these walls. The bar was empty, which was weird because it wasn't even seven p.m.

As you entered, you saw Tommy, sitting at the bar with Grace by his side. He looked defeated, his usual air of authority replaced by a weariness that sent a chill down your spine. He looked up, and his expression brightened when he saw you.

Grace had a possessive hand on his shoulder, her presence a mix of support and concern. Her eyes locked onto you as you walked in, and there was a smug, almost haughty expression on her face.

You made your way to the bar, fighting to hide your unease. Grace's demeanor was unsettling, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider.

“Hi” he said with a small smile as you walked over to them. When you arrived his hand held yours as he pushed you close into a kiss. You felt a sense of relief wash over you as he closed the distance between you and him.

The connection between you two was strong, and Grace's presence seemed to fade into the background.

"Hey," you smiled warmly. "Heard you had a tough day." You offered him a comforting smile.

Tommy nodded, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's been a hell of a day," he admitted “maybe we can call it a day and go home? Or do you want a drink?”

With a sympathetic nod, you squeezed his hand. "let’s go home. You probably need to rest and I'm here now. Maybe I can make the day end a little better." you caressed his tired features

Grace shifted uncomfortably beside Tommy, her icy stare fixed on you. It was clear she wasn't thrilled to have you around. At least her hand was off your man now.

"Ah, Grace," you greeted her with a polite but slightly strained smile. "Still putting in those extra hours, I see."

Tommy's hand was resting on your waist, and he shifted his gaze from you to Grace, who seemed to be making a conscious effort to maintain her poised, superior demeanor.

Grace shifted uncomfortably beside Tommy, She looked you up and down, her gaze filled with a subtle disdain that she didn't bother to conceal. 

"Always working, aren't we, Tommy?" Her tone held a layer of annoyance, and Tommy merely nodded.

"Working with an empty whisky bottle?" you asked seen the bottle in front of him and his glass full, just like Grace's. Your question was imbued with a touch of sarcasm.

Grace's smile remained polished but strained, her demeanor almost confrontational. "Oh, this?" She picked up the empty whisky bottle, examining it briefly. "It's not all business, you know?" She offered a suggestive smile. "Besides, I find it quite effective in getting the men here to talk." 

As she spoke, her unwavering gaze remained fixed on yours, conveying her intent to establish some form of dominance, particularly over Tommy. You saw through her veneer, sensing that there was more to her than met the eye.

With a diplomatic nod, you acknowledged, "You have your ways, Grace. It's a shame he has to be drunk to talk to you." You offered her a sympathetic smile, but before she could talk, you continued "Shall we head home?” you leaned in, close to his ears, where you left a gentle kiss “I have to tell you how much I love you back. I didn't have time to do it this morning" You added a mischievous touch to your smile.

Tommy’s pupils dilated at your words, his hand on your hips gripping tighter on your skin. He then stood up, addressing Grace, "lock things up as I leave, ey?" 

Grace's demeanor, once so polished, was now tinged with annoyance. "Of course, Tommy," she replied coolly.

As Tommy led you towards the exit, her icy stare followed you both, but you ignored it. “I went by your house before the garrison” you said as he opened the door for you to leave. 

“Yeah? Sorry I wasn't there, needed some air” he said. Tommy's grip on your hand tightened as he escorted you through the dimly lit streets of Small Heath. 

“Some air ou some Grace?” you mocked 

"Please don't," he asked

"Right. Sorry," you conceded, though your curiosity still gnawed at you. "But really, what were you two talking about alone in there? Why there was no one in there?" The questions slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Tommy let go of your hand, his frustration evident as he rolled his eyes. "I'm not in the mood, y/n."

"It's a simple question," you countered, your curiosity getting the best of you.

He sighed and stopped walking for a moment as you reached the front door of his house, "I was drinking with me brothers before Polly barged in, telling me about fucking Freddie, acting crazy at me y/n. Then everyone left, but Grace. We drank and talked. I didn’t want to come home and face Polly. People know well not to stay when we are fighting"

"Freddie," you murmured, the weight of that name hanging heavily in the air between you and Tommy. “Polly told me what happened”

“I bet she did,” he said sarcastically, opening the door to his house and walking in. Not holding the door to you as he usually did. Great, he was pissed at you now. 

He walked straight to his room, before you followed him you grabbed a glass of water, seeing your cup and polly’s inside the kitchen sink as you did. Instinctively you took your hand to your belly, feeling a weird rush of adrenaline wash over you. Shaking the weird feeling, you grabbed the bag of clothes you left at the living room and followed him upstairs. 

You put your glass of water on his bedside table and followed him upstairs. As you walked into the bedroom, you found him in the process of changing his clothes, wearing only his briefs. Despite the day's troubles, you couldn't help but appreciate the sight.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, holding him close. His hands found yours as they rested on his chest.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you," you said softly.

"You didn’t," he replied, his touch tender.

“I think I did…” you continued, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

He turned to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I know you don’t like Grace. But it’s tiring to have the same type of discussion all the fucking time.”

“I can see that,” you said, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest “but she gets under my skin with her posh and demeaning attitude. You saw it today and it's clear she hits on you”.

“Yea…. Many women do, Love. but remember it's you I want. It's you I hold on to every night” he caressed your cheek and kissed your lips “She is my secretary, you’re my love. Let her be demeaning… let her act stupid all she wants. Don't let her get under your skin. She might think she's better than you, but you are better than her”

You smiled “yeah… that's hard. But ok, I'll try. Is she at least doing a good job?”

“Yeah, she's great with numbers” he said

“Good” you smiled “now tell me about Freddie Thorn. Tell me what happened," you inquired.

“I don’t know what happened. That's the thing. I don't know how Campbell knew where he was,” he confessed, his frustration evident.

“You didn’t tell the cops?” you asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course not, why would I do that to Ada? She already hates me enough,” he said, moving away and sitting on the bed.

You joined him, sitting beside him. “Maybe Campbell just followed him,” you suggested.

“No, he's a communist, love. He is good at hiding; he wouldn’t have made a mistake like that,” he responded.

“Maybe you have a rat,” you considered

“Yeah, that’s what I think,” he said and then changed the subject, a small smile appearing. “Is that earring new?”

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “Uhum, I made it today.”

“You did?” he asked, impressed, between the small pecks you left on his lips.

“Yes,” you mumbled, pressing your hand on his thigh. 

“Its beautiful,” he said and your smile grew bigger

His fingers gently traced along your jawline as the gentle pecks on your lips evolved into an intense, passionate kiss.

The world outside seemed to disappear as you and Tommy became lost in each other. Your fingers found their way to the short hair at the nape of his neck, while his hands traced the contours of your body, a silent reassurance of his affection.

Time passed, unnoticed, in your intimate embrace. Eventually, you pulled away, your breath slightly labored, and your eyes met his with a spark of desire. "I think you needed that," you said, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Tommy nodded, his gaze intense. "Yes, I did." His voice was low and husky, his desire mirrored in his eyes. "I need you." he says, his thumb caressing your lips as his hand held your chin.

You smiled as you glided your hand through his abs to his briefs making him groan at the feeling. His eyes watching you as your hand disappeared inside the white thin fabric. You took his already hard cock into your hand, rubbing it up and down between your fingers. His eyes burning on you. 

You leaned in to kiss him, the kiss slow as you both tasted the feeling of each other's lips. You kiss his neck, making your way down to his chest and abs as you kneeled in front of him, in between his legs. He opens them a bit wider, so you fit perfectly. 

You slowly pull down his boxers. His cock springs up as he is freed from his briefs. You hold his cock firmly, fingers tickling his balls as you place your lips over the head of his cock kissing it a few times. But before opening your mouth, you circled your tongue slowly teasing him and having fun as you tasted him. 

Opening your mouth you fit him inside, closing your lips around him as you bobbed your head slowly up and down. 

“Ah, fuck” he whispered, making you look up at him, seeing the desire and intensity on his gaze. 

You held at his balls with your free hand, massagem them as you kissed the length of his cock before taking him into your mouth again. This time taking a long inspiration through your nose as you go for a deep throat. 

“Fuck! Love, that’s so fucking good” he moaned, making you smile in satisfaction, your mouth still full of him. 

You continued your job, alternating between deep throats, slow intense sucking, liking and kissing. Using your hands to put some pressure into your movements.

“I’m close” he said as he watched his dick disappear in your mouth. “Wait” he asked and as you stopped what you were doing he stood up. You looked up at him as he held his cock and lightly hit it against your cheek a few times. “Will you be a good girl and take it?” he asked, holding up your chin with his other hand. 

“Yes,” you said, opening your mouth to him, holding your tongue out as he slowly slid his tip on top of it before he started to slowly thrust into your mouth. 

Both his hands held your hair out of the way, one resting at the back of your neck, the other on your temple. You did your best to sync your breathing to his movements, trying your best not to gag every time he thrusted in. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good” he moaned as his intensity increased, mouth-fucking you hard. You held at his thighs, trying your best to stay still, feeling your eyes starting to water. He looked down at you, watching you take his cock. Increasing his movements even more. “Fuck! y/n, I’m coming” he warned before exploding in your mouth. You did your best trying to lick him clean, taking every drop “that's it” he praised as you licked his length. 

He took a few seconds to recover before helping you stand up. He kissed you intensely, biting your bottom lip before getting your glass of water and handing it to you

“Thank you” you smiled and he headed to the small sink in his bedroom, to wash his cock. 

You took off your clothes and got one of thomas’ pajamas from his drawer. You felt your throat a bit sore and you massaged it.  

“You ok?” he asked and you nodded

“Just a bit sore” you answered and he frowned, walking towards you. 

He held your chin “open up” he said and you did he looked in and frowned “it looks a bit red. I’m sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you” 

“You didn’t. I liked it” you smiled and so did he

“You are a something else” he whispered as he kissed you deeply. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you nodded

“A bit, yeah” you answered 

“I don’t think anyone made dinner, but its still early. We could go out” he said but you shook your head

“No, I could just eat some slices of bread later. Are you hungry?” you asked and he shook his head. 

“Come on then” he held your hand and you both walked to bed. 

He held you close to him, just as he always did, radiating warmth. His fingers ran gently through your hair, and the room was bathed in the soft, dim light from the streetlamps outside. Everything felt tranquil for that moment.

You shifted slightly and turned your head to meet Tommy's eyes. "Tommy?" you began.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips soft and tender. "What is it, love?"

"Polly said something to me today," you started, your voice carrying a touch of hesitation. "It's probably nothing, but it got me thinking."

Tommy looked down at you, curiosity etching his features. "What is it?" he asked.

You sat up, a hint of nervousness creeping in as you were unsure of how he would react. A part of you felt like it might be foolish to share this, as it wasn't certain.

"Do you believe in reading tea leaves?" you asked, your voice quiet.

Tommy considered the question for a moment. "No, not really," he answered. "Why?"

You took a deep breath. "Earlier, when I was talking to Polly, she read my tea leaves," you explained, watching his expression closely.

"What did it say?" he inquired.

"Polly thinks… I might be… pregnant," you admitted slowly.

Tommy frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "I thought you got your period," he mentioned.

"Yes, I got it last month,” you chuckled “but it was almost three weeks ago," you said, shrugging. "I know it's not certain, and you know how tea leaves are. I might not be pregnant now but it shows it as a possible close reality… anyways I thought you should know."

As you revealed the possibility of being pregnant, Tommy's expression shifted from curiosity to surprise and then contemplation. He was silent for a moment, his fingers gently tracingy our skin as he absorbed the news.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, his gaze meeting yours. "Y/n, you're right, it's not certain. But if it's true, well, that would be the best news in a long time." His voice was filled with warmth

You felt a sense of relief at his response. The uncertainty of the situation still loomed, but having Tommy's support made it all seem a little less daunting. At that moment, the prospect of starting a family with him wasn’t so scary.

He pushed you close and kissed you again, his lips lingering for a moment. "We'll find out for sure soon." With those words, you nestled back into his embrace. “how are you feeling about it?”

“I’m fucking scared” You said making him chuckle “I didn’t want this at this moment” continued

“Well, maybe the tea leaves are mistaken” he said “it happens a lot, you know”

“I hope so” you said, feeling your eyes grow heavier.

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A/N: how come I make this Tommy more caring than Modern Tommy in "best aid"? Maybe bc I like this Tommy more... and i can't have him hurt y/n... 😝🤗

[sillyfoxlady]

PAC Reading

Mushroom Spirit Messages

•●♡●•♡•●♡●•

Pile 1 Pile 2

Pile 3 Pile 4

•●♡●•♡•●♡●•

Pile 1

Empress ☆ 4/Swords ☆ 3/Wands

Alignment • Answer the Call • Gathering

Alright, Pile 1, let's get into it. You have fantastic vibes. You are sitting in Empress energy and having some well-deserved r&r. You are being called to get into alignment by finishing your resting period but then to look forward with enthusiasm.

You are being asked by the mushroom spirit to answer the call and prepare for all of the souls who will be gathering together. You are meant to be a leader and a guide to others. Get some rest, and then look forward to the future with optimism and a strong foundation.

Pile 2

Hierophant ☆ 6/Cups ☆ 9/Swords

Transparency • Day Dream • Guardian

Ok, Pile 2 you are sitting in Hierophant energy, but you are looking towards the past with nostalgia rather than dealing with the mental anguish you are currently experiencing. Allow your inner child to sit with you in your grief. The goal should be to work through grief into a state of gratitude.

I get some strong Aquarius alien vibes from group, some very powerful and otherworldly knowledge. Mushroom Spirit is guiding you to sit in transparency- be honest about what you are experiencing. You cannot remain in a permanent daydream or prayer. Remember you have powerful guides who will protect you and lead you.

Pile 3

Hermit ☆ Ace/Wands ☆ 4/Wands

Trust • Consciousness • Silence (reversed)

Pile 3 you are sitting in Hermit energy with a new idea or a new course of action. You are building strong foundations and relationships in order to achieve this goal. So far you are doing amazing, but mushroom spirit is inviting you to step out of your comfort zone.

You are asked to trust in your guides, sit in your consciousness, and expand outwards. Because you have the hermit and silence in reverse, which means you haven't been sharing your plans with many. You need to speak up and trust that your guides will lead the correct ears to hear your plans.

Pile 4

Magician ☆ 3/Pentacles ☆ Queen/Swords

Fire Elemental • Your Dreams • Bliss

Alright Pile 4 you are sitting Magician energy with Queen of Swords so very powerful and strong every as well as the Fire Elemental card. With the 3 of pentacles you are building connections and relationships on a practical level.

You are being invited by the mushroom spirit to chase your dreams with this fiery powerful energy and follow your bliss. All of the tools are in your hands, and you guides have your back. It's a green light, sweetpea!

[yvetteheiser]

Yvette Heiser - Elevate Your Photos: Capture Elegance and Viral Attention

In the age of social media and digital storytelling, the impact of captivating photography cannot be underestimated. Whether you are a professional photographer, an aspiring influencer, or a business owner aiming to boost your brand's online presence, the ability to capture elegance and attract viral attention through your photos is a valuable skill. Yvette Heiser discusses this in Yvette Heiser - How to Go Viral with Your Photography? approaches to enhance your photographs, simultaneously maximizing their capacity to attract widespread attention, thereby amplifying your online presence and influence.

The Power of Visual Storytelling

Photography serves as a powerful tool for visual storytelling, allowing you to convey emotions, messages, and narratives through captivating images. By mastering the art of visual storytelling, you can effectively elevate your photos and engage your audience on a deeper level.

Crafting Compelling Narratives

Emotional Impact: Infuse your photos with emotions that resonate with your audience. Whether it's joy, inspiration, or nostalgia, emotional resonance can make your images more memorable and shareable.

Consistent Brand Narrative: Ensure that your photos align with your brand's narrative and values. Each image should contribute to a cohesive story that reinforces your brand identity and messaging.

Authenticity and Relatability

Genuine Moments: Candid and spontaneous shots often capture authentic moments that resonate with viewers. Embrace authenticity in your photography to establish a genuine connection with your audience.

Personalized Visuals: Tailor your photography to reflect your unique personality or brand identity. Incorporate elements that convey your individuality and create a relatable experience for your audience.

Strategies for Viral Attention

In the digital realm, the viral potential of photography can significantly amplify your reach and influence. Yvette Heiser’s-Capturing Elegance: A Glimpse Through Heiser’s Lens emphasizes this, showcasing how strategic approaches can enhance the likelihood of your photos gaining viral attention and widespread sharing.

Engaging Visual Content

Interactive Elements: Incorporate visually engaging and interactive elements in your photos to captivate viewers' attention. Creative compositions and thought-provoking visuals can encourage sharing and engagement.

Story-Driven Imagery: Craft visuals that tell a compelling story or evoke curiosity. A narrative-driven approach can pique the interest of viewers and prompt them to share your content.

Social Media Optimization

Maximize Your Hashtag Potential: Harness relevant and popular hashtags to broaden the exposure of your photos across social media platforms. Thoughtful and strategic hashtag usage can enhance the visibility and accessibility of your content.

Craft engaging and shareable captions that perfectly complement your photos, prompting your audience to actively interact with your content and distribute it within their social circles.

Emotional Resonance

Evoke Emotions: Aim to create visually impactful images that evoke strong emotions in your audience. Emotionally resonant photos are more likely to be shared and leave a lasting impression.

Conclusion

Elevating your photos to capture elegance while also attracting viral attention is a multifaceted endeavor that blends the art of visual storytelling with strategic approaches to maximize reach and engagement. By mastering the art of crafting compelling narratives through photography and implementing tactics to enhance the potential for virality, you can significantly elevate your online presence and influence. Embrace the power of visual storytelling, infuse your photos with authenticity and relatability, and capitalize on the strategies to optimize your content for social sharing. Through these efforts, you can elevate your photos to new heights, captivating your audience and expanding your digital footprint.

[moldy-flowers]

Here's my Naruto character tier list... please don't kill me.

LOOK I KNOW I GET JT BYT THEY JUST DONT SPEAK TO ME

going through all my reasons:

My boy: I cannot physically fucking breathe if I am not thinking about him at all times sometimes its genuinely painful how much I love him I love sasuke so FUCKING much

Would kill myself for them to even spare a glance in my direction: Sakura, im gonna be honest I have a pink bias... and also girlboss she's so amazing we love a saviour complex. Hinata, I put here there for more for the nostalgia, when I watched the show at 7 she was always my favourite and i would rant to my friends about her. Sighh what I would do just for a hug :(

They'll always have a place in my heart: what can I say? They're silly little guys :3 I don't think this one is too controversial (uhmm they werent in the tier list I used but Mikoto and Fugaku are here too)

Goofygoober :): put this here last minute cause I liked these ones more than the others but I didn't like them to always keep them in my heart. Karin so high is probably gonna set some people annoyed but eh she's a gal :3 how can you hate a gal :3

Sillys: they're silly. I like the sillys

What an idiot (affectionate): theyre idiots. And i like them. Okay, I know. Kakshi is very low. I just... idk I've never felt that love for him. He's a guy and i like him, but uhm. I think that's it. I've genuinely tried to love him but i just like him.

Someone from naruto (probably): Naruto characters that I just do not care about. IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST DONT CARE, KUSHINA, MINATO, GAI, MEI, KONAN, YAMATO, TOBIRAMA UH UH THE OTHER ONES I JUST REALLY DO NOT FEEL ANYTHING TOWARDS THEM, THEYRE COOL, PROBABLY I DONT KNOW.

What an idiot (derogatory): they're idiots. And I don't like them. No strong feelings about them really, wouldn't turn my nose away if someone drew some good fanart of them or if they were in the main plot of a fic. I'm still traumatized from that one comic where hashirama killed tobirama for madara idk I just can think of him the same way again...

Ermm...: what the freak :/... (I'm sorry)

I know what you are: I'm running out of things to say I just feel anger towards them idk.

Get AWAY: I don't think this is to disagreeable.

Get the actual fuck away from my boy: I DONT FUCKING CARE, I HATE ITACHI I HATE HIM I HATE HIM, HES A PSYCHOPATH WHO WAS FORCED INTO INSANITY AND MURDERED A SHIT TON OF PEOPLE I FUCKING DESPISE HIM HE HURT SASUKE SO MUCH AND RUINED HIS LIFE FOR NO FUCKING REASON SASUKE WAS JUST A TOOL FOR HIS SUICUDE I DONT CARE I DONT CARE GET HIM THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BOY AND ANYONE ELSE EVERY PUT HIM IN A FUCKING TSUKOYOMI FOR FUCKING EVER I HATE HIM SO GODDAM MUCH RRRGHSHSJSJHS

Im prepared to get burned at the stake I don't care i stand by this tierlist

[quonka]

The Lasting Effects on Writing Concentration That an Aggressive, Near Insatiable Childhood Obsession with Neopets: The Darkest Faerie Can Inflict on a Man

The first console that I ever owned was the PlayStation 2, and while we had many games, most of them were nearly and completely unplayable. Mostly because I was like, eight.

That's why I made my sister play them.

Maybe "made" is a strong word, it was technically her console-- her games-- but I definitely begged her to play certain games more than others, just so I could sit and watch on the teeny tiny little box television, its frame decorated with neon orange and white acrylic paint, and SpongeBob stickers.

I had a couple favorites I liked to cycle through, Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly, SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle For Bikini Bottom, and Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa -- but no game was I more annoying about than Neopets: The Darkest Faerie.

Just a Bit of Background Research

Neopets: The Darkest Faerie is a third person, single player action-adventure game released in 2005 and developed by Idol Minds Digital Entertainment for publishment on the PlayStation®2 system.

The console game is based off Neopets.com, which was an extremely popular fantastical pet collection and care browser game published to the internet all the way back in 1999. While still active today, it has gone through multiple dubious changes and similarly perhaps questionable owners. However, the current owner of the site, Dominic Law, is looking to really dig in and overhaul the site for a modern era, with a budget of four million dollars.

I did play on the Neopets website when I was younger, but not as much, or as well as my sister knew how to. I more just played the minigames to earn Neopoints for my sister's account-- Neopoints being the sites currency.

Nostalgia Brained

despite my lack of relative interest to the site, I was completely enamored as a child with Neopets: The Darkest Faerie.

The game was, and still is, fantastic.

The graphics are... well. PlayStation®2 graphics, with the console's technological limitations making for a better experience when played on a much smaller, less detail-oriented television screen in the early 2000's than the ones we have today.

But despite the game generally being a little blurry, in my nostalgia-coated opinion, it still holds up pretty well. With its characters and semi-open world all being taken and expanded on directly from the Neopets website and put into 3D; there's a lot of gorgeous design and color and creativity given to the environments and the anthropomorphic Neopets inhabiting them.

You can even switch between the two main characters, a knight named Tor and a sorceress named Roberta whenever you want, only having to press two buttons at the same time once you get to the third act of the game where they meet. This allows you to instantly be able to change between their respective brute melee sword attacks and ranged magic attacks.

There's magic, and monsters, and multiple heroes and villains, all thrown into a medieval fantasy setting-- and despite how many video games I've either played myself or watched others play over the years, I really can't think of a single other game like it, in both gameplay and soundtrack.

"I'll Do it Myself"

Being a game made in 2005, there is nowhere to buy the official Neopets: The Darkest Faerie soundtrack like you can with many modern-day games. The cinematic scoring producer of the game, Jack Wall, doesn't even have the soundtrack listed on his website with his other projects, or on his Spotify. The In-Game music producer Keith Leary doesn't even appear to have a website or Spotify.

This has left the creatives of YouTube to render their own easily accessible versions of the music.

In 2019, user monster860 uploaded their three-hour seven-minute render of the OST to YouTube, "This music was rendered using the tool I wrote, so it might not be totally accurate."

Then, in 2021, they uploaded an eight-hour five-minute render of the soundtrack, "This is the new and improved Neopets: TDF soundtrack video! Now featuring all of the variations, adding up to 8 hours, and also in stereo. In addition, certain issues are fixed, such as the flute part in the Bazaar District music not having the trills."

While not being technically official, it sounds very much like how it does in-game, and the inclusion of all the minor variants, as well as any cut and discarded tracks make this cataloguing of the game's OST perfect to study to for me.

Cause and Effect

In last week's post about Darkwood, I talked about how the horror game's OST was such an essential part to the horror atmosphere, that the intense focus I carried in-game, transferred out of the game when simply just listening to the soundtrack, and that it helped me with concentrating on my work.

Neopets: The Darkest Faerie OST has a similar effect, but in a different manner.

I have kept my PlayStation®2 specifically for the purpose of playing this game every couple years or so, with my oldest save on the disc being from 2014, and my newest being just from last month, 2024. I have beaten the game in entirety at least three or four times, and created a new save file much more than that.

Because I have played the game so incredibly often since childhood, whenever I have the soundtrack on, I can remember exactly where each song plays in the game.

It of course helps that monster860's video has its chapters titled with song currently playing, which is where it is found in the game-- but most of the time as I'm writing in a different tab, just through memory I am able to recognize the specific area, what its main color palette is and what character is available to play, and how far that specific song is in the game.

Instead of the soundtrack promoting a bit of healthy fear in order to get me working, the Darkest Faerie OST is calming, comforting really.

Don't get me wrong though, there are a lot of really fun and intense tracks in the game, my favorite specifically being "Brightvale Battle" at 4:39:32. Just starting off with that call and response melody at the beginning, on what I assume to be some sort of keyboard, is immediately effective at grabbing one's attention, which is apt for fight music. Then a little later into the song at 4:40:05, when the flute comes in on top of all the lower instruments, it sounds pretty and adds a bit of contrast while still feeling just as powerful as the heavier drums.

My absolute favorite piece of that song, however, is when the piccolo comes in at 4:40:41. It immediately pierces through the other instruments, sharp and passionate, and extremely impactful for how little time it actually stays in the song.

There are so many songs on the soundtrack just like this one that definitely don't inspire the horror that Darkwood's does but are comparably exciting-- and I think this drive that I get from more of the battle tracks, in combination with the calmer, atmospheric tracks-- in further combination with the nostalgic familiarity I have with the game and its idiosyncrasies-- leads to the Darkest Faerie OST promoting a similar concentration on the direct task at hand for me.

Recommendations

Honestly, I definitely would recommend for anyone struggling with concentrating when writing to try listening to the soundtrack of a beloved childhood videogame, or one that just meant a lot to you at some point. I'm not certain it will work like it does for me, but it'd be interesting to see more people talk about what their specific "work music" is and the story behind it.

Unfortunately, with the game being so old and so niche, the only way to play Neopets: The Darkest Faerie legally now is through buying a PlayStation®2 that works, and then also the disc. This is a lot to ask, I recognize.

If anyone is interested though, there are countless playthroughs on YouTube, so just find a commentator that doesn't annoy you and enjoy!

With the 25th anniversary of Neopets coming up, along with Dominic Law's aforementioned four-million-dollar plan to renovate the site, hopefully there is at least a miniscule possibility for a remaster of the game. I realize this is incredibly unlikely but considering both Spyro and SpongeBob: Battle For Bikini Bottom got their remasters semi-recently, maybe it's not completely out of the cards.

[multidimensionalguidance]

The Astrology behind: “The Chronicles of Narnia” Pt.1

Services

I recently went on a rabbit hole reading all about these books and movies, which honestly started out as boredom and a tad of nostalgia. It had been so long since I watched any of them that I could not recall the rich, mystical and esoteric history behind all of this material.

I'll be breaking down the writer and the characters astrological placements along with some interesting insights as well for entertainment. So, major spoiler alert for those who haven't read or seen the movies. At any case, this will be a long series! Enjoy <3

The Author, C. S. Lewis, has a really interesting chart that screams wizard and esoteric connoisseur. He was often hailed as the ‘Father of Modern Fantasy,’ and has been regarded as one of the most versatile authors in terms of topics and genres.

One of the most noticeable things to me was his Scorpio placements which indicate the depth behind his stories and the occult messages in them as well. Anuradha is a sign that has heavy themes of friendship, alliances, and devotion. As well, the darker side of this nakshatra comes with its Saturn influence where the native must first experience betrayal of trust, broken friendships, isolation in order to attain real long lasting connections. In the series these are all highlighted topics with the Narnians building a strong bond not just with the original queens and kings, but also with all the other humans who wanted to aid. It was all about joining forces towards a common good and being devoted to the magic of faith.

His rich and vivid imagination was most definitely triggered by that Moon conjunct Neptune. I think his moon is most likely in sidereal Gemini rather than Taurus, simply because of his profession as a writer. His intuition and creative abilities were palpable with this conjunction, regardless of sign.

Neptune creates illusions and delusions which can be detrimental if there's no tool to release it, and Lewis obviously knew exactly where to pour it all. There's a good chance that a lot of his writings were channeled since this conjunction gives natural psychic abilities, and many spiritual experiences as well.

His Moon was also conjunct Pluto, which not only brings many deep transformative spiritual lessons, but a tumultuous inner world as well. It's possible that writing was his safe hiding place from all the difficulties he experienced at home and/or with his mother.

In the movie we become familiar with the children who in the middle of war had to be separated from their mother in order to survive. They were left with their innocence and imagination to connect with the new world that was thrown upon them. It was only after they entered Narnia that their inner and external world enmeshed into an almost Alice in Wonderland sort of experience. Bizarre, visceral, colorful, and deeply transcendental. The plot and all of themes match very well with the authors life.

He was also well known for his religious interest and writings as well, which is expected of someone with Mercury in Sagittarius, specifically in a Ketu nakshatra which represents roots, be it of a plant or our own. Mula natives have a strong connection to their past and their ancestors, hence why for Lewis continuing to share/communicate/write about his faith taught by his family was an essential part of him. This nakshatra also loves to act like detectives, searching and digging in the past, like an archaeologist.

It is also note worthy to mention that Mercury was conjunct Rahu and these individuals often have an endless hunger for knowledge. It is almost an obsession to them, which is on theme for Rahu's shenanigans. Aside from this, the physic abilities are also strongly present. So, overall, Lewis was very much connected to the ether and his "imagination" was actually pulling from a deep well of wisdom passed down by his ancestors and spirit guides who wanted to use him as a channel for sharing hidden truths, even if it was under his religious scope.

Now, I'll continue with mentioning that the seven (7) books were each inspired by a planet. As mentioned earlier Lewis interest for magic and the cosmos was as deep as a blackhole. He strongly believed in Astrology despite the opposition that existed in his own religion.

He mentioned in non fiction books how Astrology was never an issue with the church until the Copernicus model came around putting emphasis on the Sun, which has been historically associated with God in many different religions. Due to this and other reasons most theologist deemed prediction or worship of planets as a blasphemy.

Lewis’ inclusion of the Seven Heavens avoided all three of these heretical dangers. As such, Lewis’ use of medieval cosmology falls well outside the scope of what modern-day Christians would condemn as astrology, which allowed him to use it without guilt or shame.

The planet Lewis assigned to each book is as follows:

Jove (Jupiter): The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Mars: Prince Caspian

Sol (the Sun): The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Luna (the Moon): The Silver Chair

Mercury: The Horse and his Boy

Venus: The Magician’s Nephew

Saturn: The Last Battle

I've only seen the first three movies, and I can definitely see each planet reflected into all of them. Jupiter in the first with all of the expansion of the magic, the war, traveling far from home and to another world, etc.

In the second movie, it was very Martian with the invasion of humans aggression and Narnians essentially becoming either extinct or pulled away from their higher consciousness to become like any other animal. It was also the heavy military ideals, the difficulty in both main masculine characters with controlling their dominance, etc.

In the last one the whole plot revolves around the two youngest siblings who still had a connection to "Aslan" (the Sun or Jesus archetype) returning to fight against a dark mist that was haunting Narnians. They had to go on a journey of recovering 7 magical swords and using them to return the light back into the lands. At the end, Aslan gives the characters the option of returning back into his world with them since Narnia didn't need of their protection anymore. The whole plot was centered around bringing light, truth, and stability.

As you can tell this series has a lot of knowledge and spiritual insights hiding behind the cover of a child's story so I will separate it into several parts. In the next one, I will go over the main character's charts and their astrological association, connection to author and books as well. Thank you for reading!

[spiritumantophila]

tell me about netuno!!! 4, 6, 11, 22, 29 !!!!

HI THANK YEW FOR ASKING... <3 (and sorry this took me a bit to get to, been busy these past days!) Netuno is a shared OC with @graveys-art-blog so I talked all these questions out w him for these answers!! and have some doodles too bc i love netuno to bits. the daughter ever.

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Being raised with a loving and healthy support system in Quiro's castle, Netuno never really had to sacrifice any of her hobbies. If there was something she wanted to try out, her family and loved ones were quick to give her the tools to explore it. That said though, she does still miss certain activities from her childhood out of nostalgia. When she and Ursa (her older brother figure and another shared OC between Grave and I) were younger, they'd have tea parties and create fantastical worlds and stories the way children do. As they grew up that bonding activity between them didn't exactly fizzle out persay, but rather evolved into them helping out the castle theater troupe (Ursa as an actor, and Netuno as a stagehand)! They still love to share in the act of storytelling with each other, though it's just a little different now!

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

Netuno is an avid reader of sapphic romance books, especially those others would consider "trashy". But they're self-indulgent and her favorite so leave her alone!! She'd particularly enjoy those with dark fantasy elements to it. She loves her bitches bad and her yuri doomed and paranormal.

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

I'll also put separate answers for them below, but Vitor (Grave's OC), Ursa (another shared OC of ours), and Eri (this one's just mine LMAO) all have a strong "magic sense", which means they're able to easily pick up on the presence of magic in the environment. Tying in with her creepy girl swag, Netuno has a very specific "magic fingerprint" or vibe persay that the three of them can detect and recognize as her. Vitor would rely on this especially since it played a big role in him adopting her :) So everything else below is just what other methods the three would individually use to tell Netuno apart from an impersonator!

According to Grave, Vitor would ask Netuno to cast magic or use some of her "wishmaking" sorcery to help him deal with the drawbacks of his own. Vitor tends to suffer from bouts of headaches and temporary short-term memory loss (and other similar mental pains) when he overdoes it with his own magic, and the real Netuno would know how to help him ease or alleviate the pain. And I don't think there's anyone who could 'copy' someone's sorcery like that so it'd be a dead giveaway!

Since Ursa has been Netuno's best friend since forever AND been with her since she was a wee baby, he knows her like the back of his hand. He's always been sensitive to even the smallest changes in her behavior because he's always looked out for and protected her, so he'd easily be able to tell her apart from someone impersonating her just from the way she'd walk or get his attention. He's a smart guy as silly as he is!

One thing Eri and Netuno bond over is their shared love for bugs and insects and NO one else matches their freak like they do. Eri could throw out some questions about a crawlie that'd stump anyone else, but that Netuno could answer without batting her big blue eyes. The two of them are very alike in a lot of ways, so Eri could tell if something was off.

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

Public speaking. As cold and composed as she looks she's truly still just a shy lil bug. She has a soft and calm voice and has very mild expressions so she'd struggle to talk to a large group of people.

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

Netuno's a bit used to people not believing her outright. Those who watched her grow up know she had a reputation of being a ominous weird little girl that said strange things and understood the world differently from others. Because of that, some people would chalk up the things she said as just the weird thoughts kids liked to blurt out, which frustrated her because why don't you get her!! It all makes sense to her!!!! As an adult though, she's learned her way of speaking concisely with the fewest words necessary to get her point across can be confusing. If someone expressed disbelief or skepticism in something she said, she'd pause and stare at the person for a moment (which can come off as judgemental but she just. has big beautiful eyes <3) before retracing her steps to reexplain the point they doubted.

[vapordruid]

💡

💡 A game that inspired my own design or creative practice.

There are many ttrpgs and boardgames that inspired me, but there is one ttrpg that made me say: "I want to make something like this, this is the kind of experience I want to enable". The game is

Santigo Bay by Armanda Haller, and it blew my mind.

It was so strong an experience for me, that it was the main reason why I felt encouraged to enter my first ttrpg jam, just a short time after it released.

Armanda is a poet and it shows beautifully on every game she designs. This was no exception as it takes you right into a place and time you've never been but you can feel the nostalgia for it. It makes you linger in that timeless place, being a tourist for a fictional (but very real) grief and the course of processing it towards personal growth, the same way the sun rises after a long night. You can find a similar nostalgic vibe on my first ttrpg content: \ NO time \ NO place \.

But the vibe and theme were just the tip of the iceberg for my inspiration: This game is mechanically simple to understand but I haven't seen another ttrpg doing these kind of choosing and matching interactions. Simple and interesting is a genius combination. Lyric games were very novel for me and this one in particular opened up so many possibilities.

It also has a playlist curated by Hipólita, and it made me aware of sensorial inmersive experiences as a design space.

And it's made with MSPaint. That's no detail at all.

It screamed at me: "You don't need fancy tools to create, just create". I listened and I'm so glad I did it.

[constantineshots]

Hey, what is your top 10 hellblazer issue?

TOP TEN HUH.

well, i wouldn’t put them in order, nor do I remember issue numbers off the top of my head. more specifically moments. it’ll be under the read more for a long, long post. some trigger warnings for abuse.

i like the first issue for nostalgia and the way it manages to show us john constantine as a character, and somewhat to outsiders. we see him as a human . . . and then his descent into what he see him doing every day because he’s a bit silly (racists are scared of him, for example, but that doesn’t really have to do with the magical aspect of john and more of his political one). it shows us who he is without necessarily delving too deeply into the world of magic, even if it’s just a glimpse.

another that really tickles my brain is technically a couple, but the specifics of newcastle. throughout hellblazer, it’s very much up in the air what actually happened and we only know the end results, because no one talks about it. however, while it is early on in the series, we get to learn about why this affects john as much as it does, and afterwards, how most of it was just pinned on john because of course the police don’t know much about the magical world. i think my favorite aspect is how, when we see him in ravenscar, magic is more of an ‘addiction’ of his as opposed to being a tool. yet he’s in there because they think he’s “loony” as it’s put then, but that’s a separate issue. count that one in this list of ten too, i think.

okay. i know. this one’s less traumatic and technically isn’t part of the original 300 of hellblazer. but. i thought the unicorn thing was actually hilarious. though honestly, i think since the original run ( and let’s be honest, even among some of the writers for the original ), simon spurrier is up there with some of the best hellblazer authors. BUT. i thought the pretty unicorn murdering people and shit was kind of amusing. sorry. i loved it.

another one of my favorites is the one where john is,,, so there’s this lesbian couple that wants to get pregnant. and one of them decides to essentially flirt with john and try to get him to sleep with her, and of course, it turns out with john being like “you could have just asked.” and it puts into perspective a lot of the things that he deals with, the ways people treat him. the things he faces. it’s a lot to take in. and the whole thing about wanting someone to hold you so you feel less alone….

tumblr is fucking with my spacing. how cruel. sorry for the squished lines </3

but anyways, onto number seven i think. personally, i really like the one where he broke ho with kit, and it’s because of two reasons: one, because it shows kit. i love her! but what i mean is that she is a take no shit kind of girl, and while she’d already explained this, it really shows it. people have said “oh fuck you john” and yada yada and end up back in his life again (no shade, chas). kit? she said “john, if you get magic into my home, i’m OUT.” and she fucking meant it too. she got attacked (and she handled it! love that for her) and then kept that boundary. i love her for being a strong character- not physically, necessarily, but keeping her boundaries, too. and also, it shows us what john is like when he’s losing something he really cares about. he acts like a cornered animal. he shouts and tries to say shit that will hurt you (like calling kit cold) because he’s scared. while we already knew this, it’s a very big throw in your face moment about how much of a piece of shit john can be, especially because this was a long-term relationship. and then, of course, he ends up depressed and homeless and doing his best to drink away his problems.

and i know this is going to sound horrible, but the one where john is like. literally discussing how he pretty much made his father sick with a spell and a dead cat (if i recall correctly) because of all the shit that his dad did to him and how he was treated. to me, it made sense. he found a way to defend himself. magic was that outlet of his own protection, his own defense, a way to try little by little to keep himself safe. really connected to me in a way- growing up, i had an abusive parent, and i could understand why he did what he did, because i wouldn’t have done any different.

AND THERE’S THIS ONE WHERE. john makes a statement about not trusting priests because of the fact that one attempted to assault him, but there’s a story where john is going through that story, and john sees the priest again. he has a panic attack first and foremost, and i think, to me, it’s one of the very first depictions of a mental health struggle. not necessarily in hellblazer- mainly because this is a story that handles a lot of hard topics and, depending on the writer, it’s done rather well- but in comics overall. it also shows that yes, priests can be villains too and take advantage of people, and that was a rather controversial topic during that time period. hell, it’s even controversial now, and we have stories of it happening all the time.

and ten. honestly, picking these was a bit difficult because i love a lot of hellblazer, but here we are. i, personally, enjoy mike carey’s run a lot (i LOVE lucifer. so i already knew i was in for it.) the arc where we’re seeing how much john cares for his sister and that he’s literally going to hell (okay maybe this isn’t that impressive because he’s always there) to get her back. with nergal! the fucking asswipe! but it also focused a lot on tony being very religious, and gemma, and how affected everyone was. gemma wanting to be like john and john shooting her down. there’s a lot to handle- like john’s…. children… that came about from odd circumstances…. maybe i’m biased here. ANYWAYS. good fun!

but i despise. and i mean DESPISE. anything after 250. i will never touch it again. i barely got through it the first time. again. DO NOT READ. ANYTHING PAST 250.

and i hated the original justice league dark run. probably because of milligan. fucking hate that guy. but regardless. you asked for hellblazer issues. technically some of these are arcs. BUT HEY! here you are :D

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Could you go into the meaning behind the aesthetics? I'm intrigued but I'm uncertain if I'm fully grasping everything I want too!

Character by character? Sure. Clockwise from the top left: young anglos only I will have to do the others another time

Alfred: Clockwise from the top left: chalkboard to represent his math and science oriented brain from early days especially as he predates calculus in multiple handwritings to show the collaboration of science. Lady liberty emerging from the fog, his ideals looming over him. The microscope is a sign of innovation. The moon is his hops and ambitions ever upward. The car both the american auto industry and the innate loneliness of it. The national bird, the eagle in flight, the ferocity and aim he often has for his goals. the horseshoes for the old west but also the odd nostalgia Alfred has for things that never were. Then the star, rusting on a warship. theoretical end of empire but never the end of american airpower. And finally his portrait is his spacesuit. The only one without hair/visible human features because no country has ever projected such a strong image around the world and it obscures him.

Matt: Whittling with a small knife because he's got anxiety and a lot of woods. a looming moose for the darker force and mystery of nature and his own personality. Pancakes because he's a domestic fuck when permitted. a hatchet. Lots of wood an also war crimes. his tools are often weapons too. Maple tapping. A reliance on the natural resources at his disposal that shaped his culture tightly. man's outline in front of a fire is for Matt's propensity for salt and burning and personally annihilating obstacles when properly motivated. sunrise through a frosted window. Spring and hope rising over winter and despair. A repeating rifle. He too, is the result the arms of empire. And finally his 'portrait' a young man facedown in the sheets, lots of curls. This one is popular for Matt aesthetics for the hair but he's a tired, depressive bastard who tends to linger in safety rather than push himself for better.

Jack: a selection of fossils. The happiest part of his childhood was in natural history but these very collections are soaked in empire. A kangaroo and joey. His fauna but also his instincts of aggression about his environment and sometimes his sister. Meat pies because they're popular but also, born a penal colony he lacked a lot of agency over his own food and being as fast growing as he was he's a chronic snacker. map of Australia. could be self explanatory but even all the way down there he's pretty concerned about his place in the world and tends to look at himself at globes when he sees one. Two horses. Man and his country love to race but also I picked two because he really is not a person who prefers to be alone for long periods of time, as misanthropic as he can be. Surfboards: he loves his water-sports but the sunny, 'no-worries, mate' attitude too. Coffee on books. He's always been very keen to prove his wine, coffee, cuisine and tastes can stand up to the snobs and a flat white was an Australian invention. Golden wattle is the national flower and symbolizes resilience, often appearing first after fires and floods. And finally the portrait. A young man with a collar pulled up and one hand on the back of his neck, pondering his future? being a bit sheepish? both suit him.

Zee: Two sheep gently headbutting each other. Sheep and a stubborn affection is something she shares with Jack even if it probably influenced her culture more. Books because she's the best educated of her generation for a long time but the titles for birds, fairytales and oxford classic texts are for her famous birds, her two sets of folklore and culture and her oxford education. Kiwi box on bike handlebars. Bicycles were a massive part of early feminism and her own independence. The box and kiwi silhouette see something she probably knocked together herself. She's handly like that. Silver ferns are a national symbol and very hard to kill, resilient and the shape is very elegant and invokes Māori art and resistance. A grumpy looking Kea. This image looks very cranky but they're the goofiest and probably smartest birds on the face of the earth. Map of new zealand on a globe. Her name is bigger than she is on the map because its somewhat imposed on her nd there's also her brother always in the corner. A canoe or boat to symbolize her maritime culture, but also her own ability to build and engineer and pilot one. Her portrait I chose a woman with her hair type elegantly put up and looking away, back to a wall, a hint of a smile on her face because she has her strict lines and a slog of struggles but also a pretty decent place in the world.

[ipsen]

Off the Grid

For @chertpole for the @tgpairup event! I gave them some AriEto to chew on, and you can too! Enjoy the meal :]

Eto had never been one for nostalgia.

She had always been too busy, too focused on other things to look backwards. The past was a place of pain, of longing, and of what would never be again. It was not a source of strength, but evidence of weakness. Only by looking forward could she grab an inkling of the strength she sought.

And yet, the moment her feet touched mainland Tokyo, she went here: the old shrine where it all began.

It had long since fallen into disrepair; it was on no map in the first place, and no one who knew about it bothered to tell. She remembered being attracted to it for that very reason. After all, she was similarly discarded. With her mother dead, her father had seen fit to discard the very thing that reminded him of his failure, and a tool was no longer necessary when everything was fixed. In occupying it as a fellow forgotten one, they would remember each other.

It was stupid, really; places never remembered the people that trampled upon it, but foolish girls were wont to dream.

Eto traced the branch of one of the trees, which had grown tall and strong these past thirteen years. Its trunk was thick and sturdy, and it towered above her, when before it was but a mere sapling, under threat of being crushed on a whim. Not only that, but its roots had finally broken the stone before the shrine, the spot where her world finally began to turn.

Time really did fly; being here now, she almost remembered the scene like it was yesterday. Her, missing an arm and collapsed in a heap within her kakuja. The shrine, broken from the weight. And then, suddenly—

“You’re here.”

Eto looked up and, upon seeing who it was, smirked. There was only one person who could sneak up on her like that, and as the years went by, she minded it less and less.

Seeing him here, it almost made her think the past had caught up to her, but she knew that wasn’t true. There were little differences to this new old meeting that made it so. Stark white hair instead of a nightshade blue. Her own hair, grown into a wild mane. An eye that couldn’t see anything anymore, and hers that had to squint when reading text on a book.

“Kishou Arima,” she said with a mirthless giggle. “Come to bask in your glory days?”

“No,” he said simply, as flat as ever. “I was just on my way to the 23rd.”

It was a little frustrating, to be honest, how little she could get out of him, but at the same time, that veil— or rather, that wall— was a comfort. The idea that there would always be something she could never truly understand, that there would always be something more to discover— It kept her going on some days. It meant she could keep digging, keep searching, keep fighting, and there would still be more. The Sysyphian assurance of an expected, if infinite, battle.

“And you?” Arima brought Eto out of her thoughts. “Why?”

The nostalgic question made her scoff. There were many people who asked similar things, but he was the only one she answered. “You’re asking that now? Are you truly so—”

“I am,” he interrupted. “Why?”

His gaze was unwavering, but a trick of the light made her think that there was a twinkle to them. Maybe, deep down in his empty void for a soul, he was actually amused. She chuckled at the prospect, then decided to indulge it. “I’ve just come back from Rushima, and I got a call that my editor is being ‘interrogated’.”

“By who?”

“You know who.” She didn’t have to say the name. “He had that look, you know. Almost reminded me of you.”

Arima paused. “He’s begun reading your work again. They remind him of himself, it seems.”

“So I noticed. And you? What do you think of them?”

He shrugged. “They’re wordy.”

She rolled her eyes at that. He never was one to talk at length, even about books, which he supposedly liked. Even now, where the end for them was in sight, he did not waver in this.

“Anyway,” she shrugged, “cutting through here is faster to get to where he is.”

It was a lie, just like Arima’s reason. This place was far too out of the way to justify coming here, regardless of destination; that was why Eto had chosen it in the first place. However, neither of them called the other out; they knew without saying.

“You’ve made your decision, then?” she asked, as if she even needed to.

He nodded. “The raid’s set to happen soon, and Squad 0 will be guarding Cochlea.”

“I feel safer already.” She smiled, but it faded soon enough. “It will be difficult for him.”

“He’ll succeed,” Arima said, and he almost sounded reassuring. “I’ll make him.”

“So you will.” A chuckle. “You always were one to force things.”

“Better than never letting things happen at all.”

“Hmph.”

Forcing things— that was the way of the One-Eyed King. Forcing his way to the top, clambering over the corpses, and creating a living legend that ghouls all over Tokyo despaired over. To supplement it, Eto became the Owl, his shadow, to give humans a reason to cling to him and justify their needless killing. She ate and ate and ate, taking the corpses and creating a shawl with which to conceal herself.

However, the thing about despair was that hope could just as easily be born from it. Were someone to topple that legend and create something new of it, ghouls would suddenly have a shining beacon of hope to look toward, and they would finally be willing to fight for their existence, finally be willing to live and not just survive. Not only that, but the humans who killed ghouls would finally be forced to turn inward and face the truth of the matter: they were played for fools.

But the thing about toppling such a legend was that it required a sacrifice. One unique sacrifice, and that, in and of itself, almost made it precious.

Eto stared at the coveted object as he turned on his heel and walked away. The way he still refused to really and truly look at her, even after thirteen long years, told her that there was still something he wasn’t telling her, but she couldn’t tell what.

It didn’t matter, of course; things were only ever going to end this way. The two of them were only cracks in the shell, crumbling in on themselves so that the real king could crawl out to the other side. Neither of them were strong enough on their own, nor did they have the tools or background to see it through themselves.

Still, they would try, and someone else, someone better, that made up the best parts of them, could do it when they couldn’t. They could find someone like that, surely, and they had. A miracle, not lying on cold concrete, but shining and flying through the sky. As his predecessors fell into the abyss and closed their eyes to that sparkling beacon, they would go satisfied, knowing it wasn’t all for nothing.

Despite that, though, as Eto watched Arima, she wondered if things could be different. If he could find— or rather, if he could see a way where he didn’t choose death over the world. Where he survived, and continued the fight. Would that result in a better outcome? If the Reaper turned his blade on the strings keeping him down instead of going limp in their grasp, could things change?

… No. No, they couldn’t; he had come too far down his bloody path to try and pave a new one. Much like her, a bloody cannibal who couldn’t find the bottom of her own stomach, he had piled up a tower of corpses far too high to topple it over now. They were monsters, simple as that. They, who took lives on a whim, were not worthy of seeing the new world, nor should they be allowed to fight any longer than they had to. Death was just as much a part of life as living was, and so they would entrust their legacy to their successor— their better.

Their king.

Still, if death was to be their fate, she wanted to try something out. She wanted to leave nothing unsaid, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was one of them. With a step and a call, she spoke a single word:

“Kishou.”

He paused halfway down the road. She waited for a reaction, for anything, really. She didn’t fully understand why she wanted to say what she said; she just knew she had to say it before the coming end. It felt strange saying it, but it had to be said.

Perhaps a part of her wished for him to turn around, and in doing so, change his mind. Change his path. Because if he could, so could she. In saying his name, she was positing a question: could they defy the death that would inevitably catch up to them? Was there a world where miscreants like them could exist together?

A gust of wind blew through the area, and leftover dew on the tree leaves, like blood, slipped off and hit the ground. Eto stared at the white back of his coat as she waited. Always, she waited.

It felt a little ridiculous. What exactly was she waiting for, anyway? It wasn’t like changing what she called him would cause him to turn around and— and what? Smile at her? Touch her? Kiss her?

She frowned. That sort of thing wasn’t possible for people like them. They shouldn’t— they couldn’t seek something like that. There were always bigger, more important things than trash like them.

Eto wet her lips in the silence.

She wanted him to turn around. So, so badly. She wanted him to turn around and run back to her, enthusiasm, anticipation, and joy springing him forth instead of emptiness, anger, and despair. She wanted him to gather her into his arms and hold her like she was the world, like she was the only thing that mattered. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, desperate and longing for the touch of someone who knew his greatest secret, from someone he had bared his heart to, even if only slightly.

She could be that person. She could touch him like he wanted to, and he could do the same to her. They would fit quite well together, she imagined, like pieces of a broken puzzle. Two terrible souls who, at the bottom of the barrel, had found each other. It could work, if she were more delusional and presumptuous than she was.

Fortunately, her feet did not obey her misguided and silent desire; they stayed planted, waiting as they always did. Arima also seemed to remember himself, and continued walking as though she hadn’t said anything at all. All began to fit itself back together. He walked, she watched, until she was alone again.

With a practiced sigh, she shrugged off the heartache.

[colors-n-chaos]

꧁ ༺ A whole new world of color ༻ ꧂

pt: a whole new world of color surrounded by decorative symbols

(🥒: im writing this because uhhh reasons lmao)

This is a pop culture paganism blog run by, and for some of our Minecraft deity fictives. We are based of off the YouTuber group Color Crew, unfortunately we do not have everyone from our pantheon yet. We will generally blog here, as well as interact with our worshipers and devotees. (Pantheon information below the cut.)

(deities that reside in our system/on this blog : eg txt)

Keir : The deity of new and unskilled players, RNG luck, and "being cringefail at the game"(according to other deities[🥒]) Pronouns : any neu or masc pronouns Signs and associations : random episodes of really good rng, sudden skill spikes, numbed injuries, red, whales Appreciates offerings of : hand crafts, random mob drops, facts that interest you Blog signoff : 🐋

Yello: The deity of childhood wonder, happiness, joy, feeling safe and secure / Small edit, after all that's happened I've come to also reside over vengeance, doing whatever it takes to protect what's important, and overall justified harm/griefing. However, this part only really shows itself when reaaaally big and bad shit happens. Pronouns : Ask/Copy what others are using. Signs and associations : Sudden feelings of peace and happiness, finding safety where there wasn't before, intense feelings of nostalgia, Yellow (Normal) / Sudden drive to cause harm, to hunt down those that have hurt you and exact vengeance, and to destroy anything threatening what you care about. Mild auditory hallucinations, Black (Vengeance mode) Appreciates offering of : Objects you've found comfort in, places of peace, memoirs from lost pets, whatever else feels correct tbh. (Normal) / Trophies from that which you've destroyed, TNT, damaged weapons, strength pots (Vengeance mode) Blog signoff : 🧸

Boosfer : The deity of sexual love, kink and para, "misfits and freaks"(according to himself) Pronouns : literally any and all Signs and associations : green, unusual episodes of hypersexuality, sudden acceptance and peace in your paraphilias, suddenly realising new paras Appreciates offerings of : sexual fantasies, consensual sexual acts and love in their name, "whatever feels correct as an offering, let your intuition guide you honestly" Blog signoff : 🥒

Bubbo/Cassanova : The deity of romantic love, intimate connection, strong interpersonal bonds, and music Pronouns : whichever feel intuitively correct at the time Signs and associations : apples, things generally associated with love and romance, gradients of purple and blue Appreciates offerings of : unsent love letters, journaling, apples, making music of any kind Blog signoff : 🍎

███ : The deity of ██████ ████████ █████████ ██████ ███ █████ ██████ ███████ ██████ Pronouns : any masc Signs and associations : n/a information Appreciates offerings of : ██████ █████████ ██████ ███ ████ █████ ███ weapons Blog signoff : █

Baablu : The deity of the mid-late game grind, large bases, complex farms, and end game adventures Pronouns : He/They/Pink/Rose Signs and associations : Sudden desires to explore/adventure, random spikes in productivity, Pink Appreciates offerings of : rarer items, stacks of miscellaneous blocks, structures you've built Blog signoff : 💎

Qndres : The deity of the early game grind, surviving, mundane tasks Pronouns : any masc or neu but dont actually care Signs and associations : miraculously not dying, grey, other things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Appreciates offerings of : constructing your starter base in his name, items you don't need, hand crafts, old and no longer used tools Blog signoff : ⛏

[deliverance-guy]

Imagine being such a lazy and incompetent writer, that you not only forget to give one character closure but at least two.

Rant incoming:

You can do so much with Narek's character and I would have loved seeing him getting a redemption ark, exploring the cult of the Zhat Vash and interacting with other people than his sister. Dang, let him realise that he has been brainwashed since his childhood, allow him to overcome his prejudice and trauma with the help of Laris or even Elnor and make him a powerful ally through the plot, which could have been so strong and interesting to watch. But no. They literally forgot about him and Chabon’s clarification, or better his planned fate doesn't make sense. Why should he be brought into federation custody?

A) What he did was horrible, yet inside of romulan space and under romulan laws dedicated towards a then illegal life form who has most likely signed a contract agreeing to said laws and possible consequences of conflict with the police/ the Tal Shiar. As a result, they shouldn’t be able to arrest him for anything since he was also way too young to be involved into the destruction of Mars.

B) Moreover, he recognised his mistakes and showed a will to work on himself. Prison will only make him loose that short window of change of mind and harden his believes, since he spends the whole time with himself and we all know how thoughts can spiral into hate and frustration rather than understanding and reflection. His whole world collapsed around him and instead of taking the shot to work with him, they leave him alone with his thoughts and the urge to find someone to blame for his misery?

Even though I am heartbroken to what they did to the La Sirena crew, I felt like they had some sort of resolution inside the seasons and their arcs, not perfect or satisfying but still (we don’t talk about how the writers ripped everything apart in season 3, that is another essay worth of rant). I deeply mourn for what could have been and are beyond mad they threw out Soji and Elnor so fast. It just felt cheap. I can understand why they did it with Elnor, to give Raffi a motive to work through her guilt for manipulating him (which kind of got brushed off and came out of nowhere so idk why you couldn’t leave him in there and work through it alive and together).

For Soji, why give us Core when you don’t plan on doing something more with here than give the actor and Spinner something to do. How great would have been it, if Soji met her look alike and got to understand the origin of her “bloodline” and the reason behind her creation, something she desperately longed for. Let her find acceptance for herself and the confidence in her skin she deserves. Let her be more than some diplomate and a tool to portray the conflict between Agnes and Rios. The money I would give to see both of them coming up the agreement to work together and Soji’s decision to change her job from an anthropologist or doctor (I am not sure what her profession fell under) to an ambassador. SHOW US, please. To be honest, I can’t see Paramount doing a show with the watchers and Core, so why waste that time with a plot you could have given to a character already established in the season before, a whole audience was thrilled for?

And Laris... Cutting her off for nostalgia porn and claiming it was out of budget? How cheap is this please?! She deserved way better and not being tossed in the trash so carelessly by so called fans! If you don’t want her in the main storyline, fine. Just give her an ending. A sentence or brief interaction. She and Picard were literally a couple, so why deny her the interaction with Beverly and her stepson?

You can say what you want about star trek Picard but I think we all can agree on one statement: Picard has been such a massive mess in terms of carrying the plotline, characters and ideas throughout the seasons to a point were it almost felt like they have been completely different series from the beginning. Every season had such an unique idea and character developments, which got tossed aside and completely ignored in later episodes.

I know enough people have talked about this already but I needed to get it out of my system.