#the future is too uncertain and unpredictable

[sofiatarot]

💌: A letter from Aphrodite

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1//2

3//4

Take a deep breath and allow yourself to choose the painting that resonates with you the most. When you do, you’ll find yourself receiving a heartfelt letter from Aphrodite💖

Group 1:

My dearest,

You stand at the crossroads of dreams and reality, lost between illusions and the truths your heart longs to embrace. I see the weight of hesitation in your soul, the doubts that whisper sweet temptations yet leave you restless. Do not fear the unknown, for love is a path walked by the bold, not the uncertain. You guard your heart as though it were a fortress, yet love does not seek to conquer, only to be let in.

Let go of the past, for it holds no promise of the future. What was once golden now dims in the light of what may come. Open your heart, not just to the idea of love but to its raw, unpredictable nature. Someone moves toward you, offering tenderness, but even the sweetest promise can turn sour if you remain chained to memories that no longer serve you.

Love is a force of nature, an unrelenting tide that washes away fear if you allow it. Have courage, my dear, for life is fleeting, and love—true, unguarded love—is the most beautiful experience of all. Trust in yourself, and in the rhythm of your own heart. Do not be afraid to dream, but more importantly, do not be afraid to act on those dreams. The universe conspires in favor of those who dare to believe in love.

You've been navigating a challenging path, caught in moments of hesitation, and I can sense the depth of your longing for something genuine. It's okay to acknowledge those feelings; there's absolutely no shame in being vulnerable or hoping for a deeper connection. Embrace what speaks to your heart, for love is patient and waits for those who are ready to take a step forward. You're not alone in this journey, and it's perfectly alright to reach for what you truly desire.

With all my grace,

Aphrodite.

Group 2:

My beloved,

Your soul is weary, burdened by trials that seem endless. Love, too, has felt like an uphill battle, a weight upon your shoulders rather than a balm for your heart. But even in darkness, the sun waits to rise. The storms of yesterday do not dictate the joys of tomorrow. The pain you have known does not mean you are unworthy of something pure, something bright.

You have been strong for so long, guarding your heart with sharp edges and cold reason. But love does not flourish in the realm of control—it dances in freedom, in passion, in surrender. Allow yourself to hope again, to believe that joy is not an illusion. A choice is before you: to remain in the familiar suffering or to step toward the light of possibility. Choose love, my dear. It has always chosen you.

I see the burdens you carry, the doubts that creep into your mind when you dare to wish for something more. But listen to me now—love is not always easy, nor is it without risk. Yet, it is always worth it. Let the fire of your soul burn away hesitation and welcome the warmth of love, of connection, of something greater than solitude. You are not meant to walk alone.

Let your heart soften, let your mind clear, and embrace the love that seeks you. You are more than your hardships, more than your past wounds. The light within you is strong enough to guide you through the darkest night.

With warmth eternal,

Aphrodite.

Group 3:

My cherished one,

You are a fire that flickers between restraint and wild abandon, caught between revelry and responsibility. Your heart longs for adventure, for passion, for something that makes you feel alive. And yet, a part of you clings to what is safe, what is known. But love, true love, does not thrive in the confines of hesitation.

Do not fear the unknown, for within it lies the freedom you seek. Be wary, though, of chasing fleeting pleasures at the cost of something deeper, something lasting. You are meant for more than momentary sparks—you are meant for an inferno that burns through the ages. There is a choice before you: to grasp at illusions or to claim something real. Choose wisely, for love does not wait for the uncertain.

I know the world tempts you with distractions, with indulgences that seem fulfilling in the moment but leave you yearning for something greater. What you seek is not just passion—it is meaning. Do not settle for surface emotions when your heart is capable of depths unknown. Be brave enough to dive deep, to explore what love can truly be when it is given the chance to flourish.

You have danced at the edge of true connection, always retreating before the moment takes hold. But love is not meant to be feared. It is a force that will carry you if you allow it. Embrace it, and let it transform you.

With all the passion of the gods,

Aphrodite.

Group 4:

My wounded star,

You have known disappointment, the sting of betrayal, and the emptiness of unfulfilled desires. Your heart, once open and radiant, now hides behind walls built from sorrow. You search for meaning, for love that does not falter, yet fear has woven itself into the fabric of your soul. But love, my dear, is not meant to be feared—it is meant to be lived, felt, embraced in all its chaos and wonder.

Do not let past wounds define your future. The path ahead may seem barren, but it is not. There is warmth waiting to embrace you and passion that longs to reignite your spirit. However, you must take the first step. Do not dwell on the past, for it holds only memories of what once was. Look forward to the love that is meant for you. You are more than your scars; you are divine.

I see the loneliness you do not speak of, the wishes left unspoken, the dreams you have convinced yourself are too far out of reach. They are not. Love is not reserved for those untouched by pain. It belongs to the wounded, the dreamers, the ones who dare to hope despite the darkness they have faced. Let yourself believe again, even if it is just a whisper at first.

There is a love that is meant for you, one that will not waver in the face of hardship. But you must believe in it, reach for it, and let it find you. You are not forgotten. You are not lost. You are loved.

With endless devotion,

Aphrodite.

-xoxo💌✨️

[unabashegirl]

MASTERLIST

ONE SHOTS

Kings of Leon

Wear something noticeable || Part 2

Equatorial Sun

What are you doing up?

My head is spinning over you

Pax Romana || part 2

Harry's grammy performance

You lied to me

Chocolate cake

Golden Boy

Nameless

Meeting her || Part 2 || Part 3

Echo

Camping

my best friend’s dad || part 2

Fragments || part 2

Entangled || part 2

The Cover || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

Love Island

CAPTION CHRONICLES

Dating hints

Pregnancy

Sadie Sink

Elsa Hosk

Lori Harvey

Pudderfly

Deepika Padukon

Dakota Johnson

Matilda Djerf

Gracie Abrams

Bella Hadid

Camila Morrone

SERIES

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Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

masterlist

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

masterlist

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is forced to return to the town where she was born for extraordinary reasons. Her father is extremely sick and on the verge of passing away. Alsfield has changed and is far from what she remembers and even though she lived in town until her high school graduation she barely recognizes it. The town hides a big secret from a few individuals that live in it including Y/N. The man who maintains the town's secret and protects it is no other than Harry Styles. Things take a sudden twist when they meet. Numerous things will impede Y/N from returning to San Francisco to her somewhat ordinary life, will she be able to abandon the town that she had successfully escaped the first time? What is the big secret that the townspeople are hiding, and what is Y/N's role in it? Who is Harry? Where does he come from? Had she met him before? And what does he want from her?

masterlist

Summary: Harry is just like any other college student. He is a senior in Chicago University. He keeps to himself except when he is spending time with his closest friends, Sarah and Mitch. His world revolves around his future career, friends, and family. His quiet and routine driven life takes a turn, one weekend when he meets Y/N Y/L/N. She is way too different from him. She spends most of her days surrounded by people who care for superficial and materialistic things. Her parents are never home, and they think that with money everything can be solved. They are both from different worlds yet something that night clicks and Y/N can never again get him off her mind.

masterlist

[malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy]

The Silver Moon

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggle-born!Ravenclaw!Girlfriend!Reader

House: Ravenclaw

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 4307

Summary: Draco reveals his dark mark to his muggle-born girlfriend reader, and their future becomes uncertain.

Reader's Point Of View:

Draco strides into my private dorm, silent. I look over at him from the couch with a smile that quickly fades when I see his expression.

"Hey, darling..." I start, softly. He's been unpredictable lately with a turbulent sea of emotions ranging from obsessive love, to fury, to cold distance. His eyes search mine for a moment before saying, "We need to talk." I feel my stomach drop, fighting off a wave of nausea. I don't like where this is going.

"Sure, what is it?" I ask quietly, carefully.

"Stop acting so cautious!" He snaps, suddenly. "I'm not some fucking wild beast that is about to attack you." He says, voice laced with tension. I nod. "Okay. What's going on?" I say, finding my voice and speaking firmly.

His voice has taken on a uncharacteristically nervous tone that is rare in him as he begins to say, "There's something I need to tell you." I nod, stiffening. Is he about to tell me he cheated? I keep my eyes trained on him, hiding my emotions so he will continue. He takes a deep breath, tightening his hand into a fist temporarily before releasing- a sign he's in distress. He takes the seat next to me on the couch. "I've done something recently..." He starts then pauses- waiting for my reaction.

"Okay, go on." I say, reaching over to push his hair off his forehead and smoothing his hair back to hold off reacting. He leans into my touch, and I feel a sense of hope again. Maybe it's not that bad? He looks down at the sleeve of his black blazer for a moment then yanks it up to give me a full view of the dark mark. Right there on his forearm.

"I'm a Death Eater." He confesses, eyes never leaving mine. He holds his breath, waiting for my response. This could be the end of everything between us.

I hesitantly touch his mark and take a deep, steeling breath- not reacting yet. I fight off the crushing feeling in my chest. He knows I'm muggle-born and yet he joined an organization that's been killing us brutally and inhumanely. A group of dark wizards who pride themselves on the hatred of me and my 'kind'. How could he? I swallow hard and gather the courage to meet his eye again. There has to be a reason. He wouldn't just do this. He couldn't possibly.

"I’ve noticed you have been different lately. I knew something had changed." I say, finally meeting his eye. He nods miserably, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Brilliant deduction. Yes, I've been wrestling with it lately. Being a Death Eater is not as glorious as people think." He sighs heavily, pulling down his sleeve as his shoulders slump forward.

"I'll say. I'm muggle-born." I say, my voice full of hurt. He meets my eye with anguish of his own.

"I know, baby." He looks at me, tears filling his eyes. I drop his gaze and stare down at the floor. He grabs my hand. "Darling, please look at me." I hear the desperation in his voice. I look at him fully now- not hiding my pain and confusion any longer. "Why?" I ask quietly, tears filling my eyes. He lets out a choked sob.

"I had to. I had no choice." He says, voice raw. Tears now fall freely down his face- coating his pale skin. "Please, darling- understand. I didn't have a choice." He sobs now, hands trembling but holding on tight to mine any way. I look over his features, crying with him. He’s being honest. Of course he’s telling the truth. He’s never lied to me. I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

"I believe you. What's going to happen to us?" I cry out, heartbreak and fear evident in my voice- head falling onto his shoulder as sobs wrack my body. He begins sobbing too, rubbing my back. His whole body is trembling now and I hear the broken boy within. He clutches me so tight it's borderline painful.

"Please don't leave me!" He begs out, voice raw with emotion and agony. "I need you." He sobs. I pull back to meet his eyes, wiping his tears away and using my sleeve to wipe the snot from under his nose.

"I won't leave you. I promise." I say, deciding to choose him and our relationship over this. We take a moment to settle ourselves as we cling to one another before pulling back to look at each other with matching scared expressions. We take a collective deep breath in.

"We need to keep our relationship hidden. I'm muggle-born and..." I start. He grabs my hand and squeezes.

"Don't you dare think I give a fuck about pure-blood bullshit anymore. Especially not when it comes to you." His ice-blue eyes burn intense. I take in a shaky breath.

"We might not be able to stay together…” I say, voice breaking again as I hold off another wave of tears.

"Shhh." He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "You're the only good thing in my life right now. If anyone finds out about us, I'll deal with it- but don't you dare consider walking away from me thinking you'll save me."

"Are you sure? I don't want anything to happen to you." I look him, genuinely concerned. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. "Positive." he murmurs, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Besides, who's going to tell? We'll be careful. No public displays of affection, no talking to each other or talking about each other.” He says, and I nod vigorously in agreement.

"I'm going to avoid you in public. I'm sorry, it'll probably hurt but it's the safest thing to do right now." I tell him and he nods, his arms tightening around me slightly.

"I understand." He says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I don't like it, I don't want it, but I understand. Your safety is more important than my pride." He pauses, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck.

"No YOUR safety is more important. Do you think I'm doing this for me? No. You'd be punished. Horribly. Or maybe even..." I shake my head at the thought. "Something awful I don't even want to say out loud." I finish. Draco shivers involuntarily at my unfinished words, knowing exactly what horrible fate he would meet. He holds me closer, burying his face into my hair as if to block out the dreadful thoughts. "Don't even think of it," he murmurs gruffly "I can handle punishment."

"Stop that!" I pull back and look at him intensely. "Draco this is quite literally life or death. I don't know if we should risk being together at all." I admit. He pulls back slightly to look at me, his eyes lit with intensity. "Listen to me," He says firmly, hands gripping my arms gently but insistently, "I choose to be with you. If Death Eaters find out and I face punishment for it, that's on me."

"No- don't even say that! So casually. Like it'll be a smack on the wrist. You could be killed!" I slide off his lap. "I can't have that. I won't." He watches me intently, his heart pounding loud enough for me to hear as we reflect on the gravity of the situation.

He kneels in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine as he tries to reason with me. "You can't just leave me!" He says, voice low and desperate, "I need you."

"I'm so scared for you. I've never been more terrified my entire life!" I respond, my own body trembling now, my heart beating as loud as his. He reaches out to grab my hand, pulling me close as tears prick the corner of his eyes. "I'm scared too," he admits, his voice breaking "But I'd rather be scared with you than suffering without you." He hugs me tightly, burying his face into my hair. I hug him back, rubbing his shoulders and back. We've never been one for emotional displays, but in this moment, we can't help it. We've never been so scared and so in love.

"I love you. I don't want to leave you. But I need to know you'll be okay. Promise me." I say. Unable to make that promise, he pulls back slightly to look at me- his eyes red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. "I can’t make that promise.” He says, voice low and serious. He looks at me for a few moments and takes a steadying deep breath in. “But I need you to promise me one thing," he says, voice a little louder and tinged with command, "Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll remember that I loved you more than anything else in this world."

"Don't speak like that! Like you already know something will happen to you. Don't you dare!" I say to him, a little louder than necessary and my own voice raw. He flinches at my outburst before a small smile tugs at his lips. "Gods, you're fierce. It's one of the things I love about you." He murmurs, rubbing his thumb gently across my cheek "I'm not planning to die, love." I sigh in relief, body physically hunching over. He tilts my head up to look at him. Confident now, he stares directly in my eyes and says, "Listen to me. I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm smart enough to stay alive."

"Do what you must, do you hear me?" I grab his shoulders, "Even if that means forsaking me, or saying awful things to me or about me. I don't care! Do what you need to do to stay alive. Promise me!" I look at him desperately. He stares at me, a flicker of admiration crossing his face at my protectiveness. He grips my shoulders back, his eyes hardening with resolve. "I swear to you, I will do whatever it takes to survive." He declares somewhat solemnly. I sigh in relief and pull him back on the couch next to me to wrap him in a hug. "Good." I say.

He returns my hug fiercely, his chin resting atop my head as he speaks in a muffled voice. "Though it pains me to say it, if separating from you ensures my survival and keeps you safe, then that's what I'll do. No matter how much it destroys me inside."

"Thank you." I say, relieved and hurt at the prospect. He pulls back to look at me. "Don't thank me. Just promise that no matter what happens, you'll keep fighting, keep living. For me, if not for yourself." He leans in, pressing a gentle, almost desperate kiss to my lips.

"We'd find each other, right? If we parted. We'd find our way back to each other when it was safe to?" I ask, my eyes welling with tears. His expression gentles, thumb wiping way the tears that spill over. "Like magnets." He says, with a soft determination. "No matter how far apart we are, we will always find our way back to each other. I will search for you. I will chase after you. I wouldn't stop until I found you again." He smiles genuinely, a determined look in his eyes. "I promise." I sigh shakily and hug him.

"Good, because I need you. I'll always need you."

"And I need you." He breaths out quietly, his hands tremble slightly as they trace my back "When it's safe, I'm going to marry you. No damn war, no dark lord, no bloody prophecy will stop me from making you mine forever." He declares fiercely.

I inhale deeply and nod, beginning to plan on how we can keep this silent devotion to each other from leaking and destroying us.

"We've kept our relationship mostly private, but there are some people who know we're together. What do we do about that?" I ask.

"I'll take care of them." Draco responds.

"How? You don't mean..." I trail off, not wanting to assume the worst, but he is a Death Eater now. He looks at me- amused for a second before he answers, "I'll 'obliviate' their memory of our relationship."

I sigh in relief and he leans in, pressing his forehead against mine. "We'll have a life together, you and I. A real life. Far away from all the chaos and destruction."

"We will. I know it." I say to him, holding his face between my hands and looking straight into his eyes. He closes his eyes briefly, savoring the feeling of certainty in my voice, the unwavering faith I have in our future together. He pulls back slightly, taking my hands off his face and intertwining his fingers with mine. "We'll have children." He says, voice hopeful.

"At least one, but I'll be fine with two." I say, smiling at the thought of entering parenthood with him when it's safe to. "I hope they look just like you."

A genuine, adoring smile spreads across his face. He presses a kiss to my temple. "One with your eyes," he says softly, allowing himself to dream a little, "And maybe one with your stubborn streak." He chuckles. Indulging in this fantasy with him is exactly what we need.

"Here's what I think," I smile at him "We'll have two kids. A boy and a girl. Are you with me?" I look to see if he's listening. His expression turns completely tender and vulnerable and he nods.

"Definitely. Our boy with my platinum hair, and blue eyes with your kindness, intelligence and intuition, and our girl with your stunning y/h/c hair, and y/e/c eyes with my resourcefulness, dry humor, and cunning charm." He loses himself in the fantasy, one hand absentmindedly running through my hair.

I add on, "Our son will be the mirror image of you. He'll be the eldest and as he enters Hogwarts, he'll be sorted into Slytherin, just like his father." I smile, imagining, "Our daughter will have my hair and your ice-blue eyes with my face. It's only fair at least one of them looks like me." I tease, letting out a small laugh. "She'll be sorted into Ravenclaw like me. Our children will balance each other out. Like we do." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he imagines the scene. He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me affectionately.

"What if...?" His voice drops to a whisper as if afraid to speak the words out loud. "What if they inherit our darkness? My cursed blood?" He looks at me fearfully, searching my face for reassurance.

"If they do, we will help them. We know what it's like to have darkness in us, and we know what we needed growing up. They'll have what we never did- loving, accepting parents." I tell him.

His fingers trace my jaw gently. "You're going to be the most incredible mother." His voice catches slightly, his emotions overwhelming him. "And I..." He struggles to find the words before he decides, "I will be the most fortunate father, to have you by my side. To have our children grow up surrounded by your love and my protection," He murmurs, his eyes shining with unshed tears, "I never thought..." He takes a shuddering breath, composing himself. "I never thought I'd find someone who can see past the monster everyone believes I am. Someone who loves me despite it all." He rests his forehead against mine, speaking softly. "You've given me something to live for beyond vengeance and pride."

"I love you, Draco." I say affectionately, caressing his face. “More than anything." His eyes close briefly, taking in my touch. When he opens them again, they're filled with deep devotion. He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "I love you. Do you know that?"

"I do know that. But, I want to talk about something." I say, hating to break this moment knowing time is of the essence. He'll be expected back soon for Death Eater matters. His expression becomes slightly concerned but curious, his fingers remain tangled with mine. "What is it?" He studies my face intently, trying to read me. "You can tell me anything, you know that." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "Are you worried about something?"

"I want to know what our plan is moving forward. How will we maintain this relationship? We can't be in public together indefinitely." I say, ready to brainstorm. His lips press in a thin line, his brow furrowing as he considers my words. He's silent for a long moment, the weight of my question hanging between us both.

"Should we have a designated meeting time and place?” I ask, thoughtfully. He thinks for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, that would be wise. Somewhere secluded where we won't be seen or heard." His eyes scan my face, taking in every detail before he continues.

"I bought a small cabin in the woods a few years back. It's quite far from here. When the unrest started. It's my fail safe. My last resort." He looks at me, watching me, "No one knows where it is. I bought it under the table from a dying wizard. He's not alive anymore so no one knows about it but me. And you now." I nod, listening. "We should apparate there. Every night at midnight. That's the best place. I know I'm being summoned when my mark begins to burn, so you may find yourself alone there suddenly if I abruptly leave. Are you okay with that?"

"Of course I am. I think you're brilliant for buying it. You knew things would get bad, didn't you?" I ask. He hesitates, then nods.

"Yes. I saw my father become more secretive and I would have entire days where I wouldn't hear from him. My mother warned me because she saw the shift in him as well." I nod thoughtfully.

"Well-spotted. How will we communicate?" I ask, letting him take the lead on this excursion.

"I will send you letters and notes. I'll charm them to always find you but never leave a magic print that could tie it to me." He says, confidently.

"You’re so clever and powerful. It’s hot." I say flirtily, admiration heavy in my voice. He smirks and gives me a wink.

"A perk of being a dark wizard." He says, arrogance barely hidden. I look over his features unabashedly for a few moments, feeling very proud and impressed by him. He catches my look with a knowing smirk, leaning back and putting an ankle on his opposite knee, subtly flexing.

I laugh softly, finding amusement in him posing for me. I take this as invitation to look at him in entirety. I let my eyes touch every feature, every hair, every piece of him. "That's my man." I say proudly.

"Come here." He says, a command. He drops his foot and pats his knee. I sit willingly and lean in to kiss him. He watches me with a knowing smirk and stays still, making me do all the work. He's really enjoying this power trip. I laugh, amused, and kiss him sweetly on his lips. "You're so handsome." I purr at him, running my hand down his chest. His arrogant facade preens, he puffs out his chest and slightly flexes harder. He sets a possessive hand on my backside and with his free hand, takes my throat and pulls me in for another kiss.

When he pulls back from the kiss, I see my softer Draco take over his features. "Let's finish planning. Before they summon me." He looks bitterly at his forearm where the dark mark lays. I nod.

"We should use a secret code in our notes and letters, just in case they get intercepted. Something simple that can be overlooked if you're not searching for it." He says, back to planning mode.

"Sure, like what?” I look intently at him.

"I was thinking of two. 'The silver moon shines bright tonight.' which would mean I'll definitely be able to make it, and ‘Clouds obscure the moon' which would mean I can't make it." His fingers trail down the skin of my bare forearm absentmindedly.

"That's genius actually." I say approvingly to him. He grins at me.

See? I can be romantic and sneaky at the same time." His thumb catches my lower lip softly, rubbing across it. "You know what else we should do to avoid suspicion?"

"What else?" I ask.

"We should act as if we have animosity between us. Cold and distant if we have to be in the same room as each other. Like we barely tolerate each other's presence."

"Yeah, that's a really good idea. You'll stay true to Death Eater ideals and we'd throw people off our trail." I say, and he nods.

"Exactly. People already expect me to hate muggles and the muggle-born."

"That's right." I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back, his eyes softening.

He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over my ear. "And at midnight, I'll be in that cabin, ready to spend a few precious hours with you."

"Our own little world." I say, smiling at the thought. "Brilliant. I love it, darkling." His eyes widen momentarily before a pleased smirk tugs at his mouth as he embraces the newfound name. "Darkling?" He looks at me, amused. "I suppose that's fitting. Being a dark wizard and all." He kisses me softly on my lips. "If you keep calling me that people will see the affection I hold for you in my eyes."

"Better keep your eyes off me then." I tease. He chuckles lowly, shaking his head "As if I could keep my eyes off the most beautiful woman in this cursed castle." His eyes dance with mischief. "But for show, I'll glare daggers at you in front of others. Though it pains me greatly. Please never take them to heart. If they start to hurt- tell me immediately and I will avert my gaze altogether."

"I will let you know. I'll act distant and aloof. That's easy enough, that's second nature to me." I admit. He nods understandingly. "And I'll be the insufferable pure-blood prick everyone expects me to be. But at midnight..." His voice trails off, a promise hanging in the air between us. He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.

"I want your midnights. All of them." I say. Draco's breath hitches at my impassioned declaration, his pale blue eyes sparkling with emotion. He holds my gaze intently, his lips curving into a tender, intimate smile. "They're yours."

"I'll miss you during the day." I look at him affectionately. His expression becomes incredibly tender. "And I'll miss you every damn minute you're not by my side." he admits quietly. "Every lecture, every meal... I'll be counting down the hours until I can apparate to our cabin." I let out a small sound of affection.

"Let me look at you." I say, stepping up from the couch and pulling him with me to hold him at arm's length, my fingers intertwined with his. I take in his every detail, memorizing the shape of him. He stands still, allowing me to drink him in.

His soft blue eyes that are always so full of emotion when he looks at me, the sharp angles of his face, the way his platinum hair is neatly cut, sleek and perfectly styled save for some pieces brushing his forehead. His tall, lean-muscle build. His well-pressed all-black attire. He swallows hard, his voice coming out soft, "What are you doing?" Though I suspect he already knows.

I step toward him "Just appreciating you. I don't do it enough." Dropping his hands, I wrap him in a hug, getting enveloped in his expensive cologne. I inhale deeply. He snakes his arms around me, holding me tightly, then presses his forehead on my shoulder, turning his face to my neck, inhaling me as deeply as I inhale him. "I want you around. Always." he murmurs with longing.

"I’m here. You and me together forever." I say, rubbing his back. His face tucks into the crook of my neck and his arms tighten around me, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Forever, my love." He says, words full of deep devotion before he presses a sweet kiss to my neck.

I breathe in deeply, breathing in this moment. His words, his voice, his smell, his warmth. I feel him do the same. We both breathe in deeply, committing every detail of this moment to memory. His fingertips trace idle patterns on my back as he holds me. "I want to freeze time right here." He says softly.

"Me too." I match his tone. He nods and stands up straight, meeting my eye. I feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Just us alone, alone in the world. No familial responsibilities, no soul-crushing expectations, no danger. Just love." His voice cracks slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions.

"We may not have this peaceful moment forever but you know what we do have forever?" I ask softly.

"Us." He says, finishing my thought.

“Us.” I repeat, fondly.

“Us, together forever. Come hell or high water.” Draco declares

Masterlist

[jenctrl]

4 - Anxious (stomach ache)

“Put your phone away.” 

Y/n hummed at the grumble from Minji, still busy with her phone though until her sleeve was tugged and the phone grabbed out of her hold. She sighed and jutted her lower lip, tilting her head to look up at Minji, who turned off the device. 

“They were worried because I just disappeared.” She explained, letting her head fall back onto her girlfriend's shoulder as she was wrapped in a warm embrace. It was comforting, cosy, and one she could long for, it was enough to come back to when Minji held her with love and care. 

She peeked up and met Minji’s eyes as they lay on the soft bed. The sound from the TV wasn’t anything they paid attention to, Y/n couldn’t focus on these things when she was with Minji. Her mind was too busy with anecdotes of everything her girlfriend did for her, how she cared for her, held her and everything in between.

“They will survive without you.” 

Y/n smiled and ran her hand over Minji’s hoodie-covered stomach. Her fingers traced patterns, softly, getting lost in her thoughts. Her eyes trailed away from her girlfriends whose hand came up to leave tender touches along Y/n’s temple, running across her cheek and over the pulsing vein on her neck before she cradled her face and caressed her cheek with her thumb. 

“And you won’t?” She questioned, moving her head to lay it where the beating of Minji’s heart echoed. It always sounded promising, a beating heart, it let her know that Minji was there with her. She liked how warm Minji’s body was, how warm her touch was as she closed her eyes and felt her body relax, forgetting all the tension she had been carrying these few weeks. 

“I really won’t, I barely made it through those two weeks without you.” 

“Okay,” it made her smile and dwell on those words. There was no one else Y/n wanted to matter to as much as she wanted to matter to Minji. The girl who held her was her whole world and she didn’t need much in that world to get through the rough roads it was made of and the dreams that always seemed to crumble. 

One always stood tall without budging; it was the dream of being loved and being able to love. Whichever she desired the most was a mystery because Y/n did both intensely and passionately, where she poured every drop of blood she had for someone else. 

She tried to get lost in Minji’s heartbeat, the fingers that gently caressed her skin under her clothes, the comforting words. There seemed to be a problem with getting lost when her mind was always on alert. 

No matter how comforting it felt, Y/n was always anxious in Minji’s arms, in her presence, whenever they were together her stomach would twist and start to ache. It made her feel sick and she wondered if she was the only one. It wasn’t because of Minji though. 

Her girlfriend wasn’t the problem. Y/n’s mind was, and no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, it never worked. From the second they saw each other, Y/n started dreading the moment they would say goodbye. Although she never wanted to leave, she felt afraid whenever they had to part ways. 

She would never tell the girl who was holding her that she teared up and felt like throwing up whenever the door closed behind her. That her knees would go weak and her fingers would tremble. It probably wasn’t normal to depend so much on one person, but she didn’t control it. 

It could be because she hated being alone or it could be the uncertainty of what tomorrow held or because she wanted to be loved. Not being able to know what came next made Y/n feel nauseous, she hated that familiar feeling of always being afraid of the unpredictable.

She never managed to enjoy the moment as she got too occupied thinking about when they would say goodbye. Y/n couldn’t stay in the present, she was always anticipating the future, trying her best to go over every possibility as she knew how uncertain everything was. She had to stay ready for the worst. 

The worst in this scenario was having to leave because no time with Minji felt like it was enough. The wish to make time stand still or at least slow down, for time to be nothing but a mere concept with no existence.

The girl closed her eyes, trying to forget everything and just dwell on the feeling of Minji caressing every ridge on her body. Her touch was tender, it was loving, and there was care and thought in each touch by her girlfriend, it left a burning sensation inside Y/n. One she was afraid of, it felt too good. 

Y/n didn’t think she deserved this type of pure love. It felt too good to be true, it was so different to what she was used to. It all kept twisting in her stomach, making her anxious because what if Minji realised she was wasting her love on someone like Y/n? Maybe she made Minji feel sick.

“You look so pretty.” Y/n hummed at the words, a smile gracing her lips as her arms wrapped around Minji’s shoulders. She got pulled closer by the arms that were around her waist as she was straddling the girl’s lap. 

“You’re always so nice to me.” She mumbled and used one hand to fix the few loose strands of hair that had fallen in the way of Minji’s face. The other’s lips were quick to make contact with her fingers as she kissed Y/n’s hand, planting small kisses before making the girl yelp and quickly withdraw her hand after she bit her finger.

Minji smiled a stupid grin at what she did and tightly wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist when the girl tried to push her away, it made a light laugh escape Y/n’s lips. Her body moulded against Minji’s whose breath tickled her skin as she hid her face in the crook of Y/n’s neck. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt fine; well, she could. The last time Y/n felt fine was before Minji left her behind and she understood that it was work, but the distance between them always felt bigger than it had to be. 

Y/n felt like Minji was holding her at arm's length for so many reasons, excluding the obvious reason that she was a secret and had to keep it. That was something she stayed fine with for Minji’s sake; she’d do anything for Minji. She didn’t like breaking promises. However, she couldn’t understand why Minji was pushing her away after each time she let her in first. 

It still satisfied Y/n’s needs, she assumed, whenever she loved her, no matter in what way. Whether a text saying she did or seeing her and making time for her, even a simple kiss made Y/n feel loved. Y/n took it all as long as she knew that Minji loved her. She could as well have gotten nothing, she could as well not be loved by Minji. 

Her fingers tangled in the girl’s hair as she started to scatter kisses over her neck, kissing up and making shivers of pleasure run over Y/n’s body. The higher she got the louder she would kiss until she pressed a long and overdramatic kiss to Y/n’s cheek, making the girl laugh and pull back. 

Minji tilted her head, the big smile on her face falling into a more adoring one as her eyes were soft on Y/n. “It’s the truth though and you deserve nothing but nice.”

She moved her hands over to Minji’s face, cupping right under her jaw with thumbs caressing along her cheekbones. Y/n could spend the rest of her life just listening to Minji’s sweet words while getting lost in her tender touch, it felt serene, like everything Y/n had ever wished for; to be loved and to be able to give back.

Slowly, she leaned in a little closer just as Minji did, their noses touched and the idol brushed hers against Y/n’s. They caught each other’s eyes and Y/n felt anxious, but there was reassurance in the other pair of brown eyes, they had a grip on her heart, one she had a hard time escaping. It was probably obvious. 

Minji probably knew her better than Y/n would like to admit to. 

She watched her reflection in the brown eyes, they reflected her so flawlessly in the moment that it didn’t feel real. It wasn’t possible to be flawless, but at times Minji made it seem like everything was perfect as they closed the gap between them with their heads tilted and lips meeting. 

It was slow, Y/n’s nails gently scratched along Minji’s jaw. Her body and mind succumbed so easily to her girlfriend. She had waited to be close to Minji again, she wouldn’t tell her that though, she wouldn’t want to burden Minji with longing. She preferred being there for her instead of asking for anything back. Y/n sighed, feeling warm all over after turning blue for the past weeks.

“Say what you want–instead of trying to flatter me,” she mumbled between the kiss they shared, having trouble pulling away. Minji let out a breath at that, pulling away the tiniest bit to get a quick look at Y/n whose eyes were already on hers. 

It wasn’t long until her lips were back on Y/n’s though, scattering kisses on the girl’s skin as her lips softly moved along her jaw and cheek. “Wanna know what I want?” She breathed out, burying her head in the crook of Y/n’s neck as her hands rubbed at her lower back. The breath that hit her skin made her somewhat squirm as it tickled yet made her pull in closer.

“Yeah?” 

“I wanna continue watching Evangelion.” 

“Noo–” Y/n whined and clung onto her girlfriend when she tried to move her out of her lap, stopping her from grabbing the remote. “Focus on me instead.” She tried and Minji laughed at the way Y/n tried to overpower her and she gave in, letting her girlfriend tackle her onto the mattress. 

“I’ve been focusing on you for the past few hours.” Y/n was aware that they were playing around, that they were joking and it did feel light, but the truth always lingered at the back of her head. A few hours was usually what they got together and she wasn’t one to complain, but it wasn’t often. Sometimes it felt like she pictured Minji more than she saw her. 

“You’re acting as if I haven’t made you watch Evangelion at least five times with me already.” Minji rolled her eyes as she was held down by her shoulders where Y/n held her palms planted. She reached a hand up, running her fingers through Y/n’s hair and holding it back from tickling her face. Eyes admiring the girl on top of her and it was the type of closeness Y/n always craved.

“Shouldn’t have shown it to me, it’s too good.” 

“I know I have good taste, but watch me instead.” She watched how the girl under her put on a smug smile. 

“Considering you’re with me, I would say that you do.” 

“You’re so full of yourself.”

The latter hummed and guided Y/n’s face closer to hers until their lips met in a short kiss. “As if you didn’t just tell me to watch you,” Minji argued, mumbling against the girl’s lips and as Y/n parted her lips to get in another quip, the vibrating of a phone cut them off. It was Minji’s phone and her hold on Y/n disappeared; the girl felt cold and her stomach dropped at what she knew was next.

Minji sat up as Y/n moved off of her while chewing on the inside of her cheek, biting down, gnawing on her lower lip, and doing everything to stop herself from falling into the melancholy. She hated how heavy it felt on her chest as she stared at the sheets while Minji was on the phone. Y/n could cry, but she wouldn’t, she already felt like a burden most of the time to her girlfriend. 

She didn’t want to be needier than she already was.

However, the prickling at her nose always made it hard and she took a deep breath, rapidly blinking her eyes as she reached for her phone to occupy herself with something. It was difficult because all thoughts about Minji were always overbearing and at times she couldn’t think about anything else except her. 

“They’re on their way back,” the idol didn’t seem to struggle the way Y/n did, not with how easily those words that meant ‘leave’ left her mouth. 

Y/n wanted to bring it up again, but it always ended the same way whenever she suggested that they would at least let their close friends know about them. She settled on making it easier than it already was for Minji though as she looked up with a small smile and gave a nod, waiting for the pain in her throat to go away before she spoke.

‘Two hours, you got two whole hours when you could have gotten none after not seeing her for so long.’

‘It doesn’t matter if you would quit everything for her. You won’t get the same back.’

‘Be grateful for what you have and get because you get more than you deserve most of the time.’

She hated how self-aware she was and how contrasting her thoughts could get, but she quickly got up on her feet. Y/n wasn’t one to lay on the ground and whine for too long. She was taught better than to bother someone for too long. 

“How will you get back?” Minji asked as Y/n hadn’t said anything since she got up from her bed. She watched her girlfriend gather her things and give a shrug.

“Cab.” It came as a mumble.

“Let me send you money for it.”

“Minji, it’s fine, I have money,” Y/n argued, her tone coming off a bit harsher than intended, but she got defensive whenever she felt the slightest bit vulnerable; she was scared. There was no need for more salt in the wound; to show care whenever Y/n doubted that Minji did care. 

“Okay, but I wanted you to come, so I want to pay for it–” Minji stopped as Y/n turned around with a small frown. “You’re my girlfriend, let me pay for your trip back at least.” She didn’t feel like her girlfriend at times. She didn’t need the whole world to know, but it felt so wrong to be Minji’s secret. It destroyed her.

It ate at her day after day and made her feel sick, Y/n could never turn to anyone, the only person she could turn to was barely there because her girlfriend was busy. At times it felt like she was in a cage, waiting for Minji to just check on her. It wasn’t right, but she would do anything for Minji. 

“Yeah.” She agreed and pouted as she watched Minji reach for her phone again, her eyes glancing between the screen and Y/n.

“Won’t you get cold in that?” She questioned, paying attention to how Y/n was only in a thin top and it was getting late and the weather was cooler by now.

“I’m just heading down and into the cab.” Y/n replied as her gaze was on her phone to order the said cab, getting the notification from Minji. It was nothing new to have Minji send her money or give her material things despite never asking for it. 

It was too familiar to Y/n. Did Minji see it as some type of compensation? Maybe it was genuine and not out of guilt and Y/n was the bad person for not appreciating Minji more. Usually Y/n felt like a terrible person because of how things looked, how she looked at them and the problem seemed to lay in her and not their relationship. 

“All the more why you should wear a hoodie.” The latter said as she tossed her phone aside with a frown and stood up. Y/n watched the taller girl who was about to pass by her to get to her closet and she grabbed hold of Minji’s sleeve, stopping her. 

“I’ve been keeping this hoodie from everyone.” Minji whined and Y/n jutted her lower lip as she looked up at her through her lashes. All she craved was Minji’s warmth and comfort in the end. Her girlfriend groaned and grabbed the hem of the black hoodie.

“I love you.”

“I love you, a lot.” 

Y/n could still feel Minji’s lips linger on hers after the door closed behind her and those feelings came back, always leaving the place with a sick stomach, an anxious feeling and the thought of being nothing but a terrible person. Despite the awareness and these feelings, it was still always worth running back no matter what. 

masterlist | next

a/n: any type of feedback is really appreciated even smth short like 'it's good or bad' it's hard to improve etc otherwise :D

taglist! - @yxlis @pandafuriosa60 @sixflame438 @drvirgus @baelabong @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @dollydigital @yncoreee @multiliker @yoontoonwhs @dreamingst99 @1luvkarina @gayforalll @gtfoiydlyj @celestialsequels @starstruckgoateepuppy @yeetaberry127 @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @onlyhyunjin @awkwardtoafault @jisooftme

[lev1hei1chou]

Faded

Nanami x reader Genre: Angst Words: 1.2k Synopsis: Breaking up with Nanami PART 2 ALTERNATIVE HAPPY ENDING Masterlist

The moon hung low in the night sky, emitting a soft glow over Tokyo. Nanami Kento sat alone in his apartment, the dim light accentuating the fatigue etched on his face. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional sound of a distant car passing by.

You had been a part of Nanami's life for as long as he could remember – a blessing in the unpredictable world of curses. Your laughter echoed through the memories he held dear, a melody that had once filled the empty spaces in his heart.

However, time had a way of untangling even the most tightly woven threads of happiness. Fate had cruelly chosen to separate the two of you, leaving Nanami with a void that nothing could fill.

The scent of your favorite tea wafted through the apartment, a painful reminder of mornings spent together. Nanami mechanically prepared the tea, his movements precise but lacking the warmth that once accompanied them. As the bitter aroma filled the room, he found himself lost in the maze of memories.

It had begun with a subtle distance, an unspoken ache that settled between you and Nanami. The demands of his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer had slowly taken a toll on your relationship. Late-night missions, dangerous curses, and the constant threat of death had become a looming presence, and acted as a major source of your fear. It overshadowed the moments of happiness that you shared with your lover.

Nanami tried his best to shield you from the darkness that consumed his days, but the burden of his responsibilities became an unstoppable barrier. The lines on his face deepened with each passing mission, his exhaustion etched into every crease. You felt the strain too, the worry etching lines on your forehead.

One evening, after yet another close call, Nanami found you sitting in the dimly lit kitchen. The flickering light cast shadows on your face, emphasizing the sadness in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore, Kento," you whispered, your voice slightly audible.

His tired eyes met yours, a silent cry for understanding. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air as you continued, "I love you, but I can't keep watching you walk into danger. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Nanami's heart sank, the gravity of your words hitting him like a tidal wave. He wanted to reason, to convince you that he would find a way to make it work, but the tiredness in your eyes mirrored his own. The painful decision was made, and the threads that once bound you together began to untangle.

The present brought Nanami back to reality. He sat alone at the small table, staring at the untouched mug of tea before him. The room felt empty, devoid of the warmth that once used to be radiated from your very presence. He wondered if you ever thought about him, if the memories haunted your nights as they did his.

Nanami's phone buzzed on the table, a major interruption to the heavy silence. He glanced at the screen, and for a moment, hope flickered in his eyes. The hope, however, quick to vanish as he read the message – a routine mission, another night alone.

The apartment echoed with the sound of his sigh as he rose from the table. His steps were heavy as he moved towards the closet, where your things had been carefully packed away. A box filled with residues of a love that once flourished – photos, letters, and trinkets that now felt like pieces of a broken dream.

As he looked through the memories, a photograph caught his eye. It captured a moment of pure happiness, the genuine smiles on both your faces frrozen in time. Nanami traced the outline of your face with his fingertips, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Nanami continued his lone existence, the routine of his life a walk towards an uncertain future. He found comfort in the familiarity of his duties, the demands of the jujutsu world leaving little room for reflecting on the past.

Yet, the pain in his heart existed, a constant reminder of the void you left behind. He began to visit the places where you once spent time together, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of your presence. This, however, only intensified the loneliness.

One rainy evening, Nanami found himself standing outside a small cafe – a place that held precious memories. The soft sound of rain against the pavement mirrored the turmoil within him. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the bell above the door chiming softly.

The air inside the cafe was thick with nostalgia. Nanami ordered a cup of your favorite coffee, the bitter aroma reminding him of the echoes of the past. As he sat in the quiet corner, he couldn't stop hoping that you would walk in at any moment, smiling as if nothing had happened.

The illusion shattered when the door swung open, revealing a stranger with an umbrella, seeking refuge from the rain. Nanami's heart sank as the realization washed over him – you were not coming back. The pain intensified and threatened to suffocate him.

Time passed, and Nanami continued to steer through the difficulties of his life. He became a master at hiding the pain, wearing a stoic mask that hid the storm of emotions within. The nights were the most hardest to deal with, the silence of his apartment reminding him of the haunting memories of laughter and whispered promises.

One fateful night, as he patrolled the streets, a familiar curse appeared from the shadows. The encounter was like usual – a battle against the supernatural forces that threatened to disrupt the balance of the world. The fight, however, took an unexpected turn.

The curse, sensing Nanami's inner uneasiness, manifested in a form that mirrored the ghost of his lost love. It moved with a haunting grace, its voice echoing the words you once said. Nanami's heart raced as he fought against the apparition of his past, the lines between reality and illusion blurring.

In the midst of the battle, the curse whispered words that cut through Nanami's defense like a blade. "You chose duty over love, and now love is nothing but a disappearing echo."

The words struck something within him, a painful remainder of the choices he made. The curse, fueled by his inner turmoil, became an embodiment of the grief in his soul.

As the battle went on, Nanami found himself overwhelmed by the curse's constant and relentless attacks. He fought not only against the curse but against the painful memories that threatened to consume him. The bitter taste of regret lingered on his tongue, the weight of lost possibilities pressing down on his shoulders.

Exhausted and battered, Nanami emerged victorious. The curse dissolved into the night, leaving him alone in the quiet aftermath. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a glistening view in the city.

Nanami stood in the emptiness of the street, his breath ragged and his gaze distant. The battle had not only been against a curse but was also against the demons that lived within him. The pain, once carefully tucked away, now surged to the surface.

Brushing it off, he slowly trudged along the road to reach his house that was once a home. He was ready to be consumed by the pain of loneliness again.

A/N: I like pain

[junesworldnotsobleak]

|ʜᴜᴍᴀɴɪᴛʏ| ᴛʜᴏʀꜰɪɴɴ ᴋ.

Hi, this is a teaser for my new fanfic, Thorfinn x Reader. The full thing can be read on Wattpad: a_worldnotsobleak

In the heart of a brutal, war-torn world, survival is the only rule-especially for Y/n, a fierce young warrior who's just joined Askeladd's notorious band of Danish Vikings. She's tough, skilled with a weapon, and doesn't hesitate to kill when it's necessary. But beneath her hardened exterior lies a girl who's seen too much loss and too much violence to ever truly trust anyone. Her world is one of bloodshed, betrayal, and uncertain loyalties-and Y/n is learning fast that to survive, she'll have to make choices she never imagined.

When she first meets Thorfinn, the vengeful, battle-worn Viking who serves under Askeladd, their clash is inevitable. Both are driven by their own demons-Y/n's need to survive and Thorfinn's unrelenting thirst for revenge. Their initial hatred toward each other is palpable, but as they fight side by side in countless raids, a strange bond begins to form between them, one forged in fire and blood. The line between hatred and attraction starts to blur, and Y/n finds herself drawn to him in ways she never thought possible.

But nothing in this savage world comes easily. In a crew of ruthless warriors, survival means constantly proving your worth, and Y/n must navigate a web of deadly alliances, brutal betrayals, and an unpredictable future. As the stakes grow higher and the danger more immediate, Y/n's place in this violent world will be tested-not only by her enemies but by her own heart. Can she hold onto her humanity in a world that demands everything from her? And can she trust the one person she never thought she could? A story of survival, violence, and forbidden love, this epic tale of Vikings and warriors will keep you on the edge of your seat.

[wisteria-tarot]

Can you do a reading of Fc Barcelona player Pedri Gonzalez. What type is he attracted to and not attracted to? What type will he actually end up with? What’s he like in private and what are his fears/worries about his career, personal life, etc? Please and thank you! 🤗 🥰

Disclaimer: This reading is only for entertainment. Take it with a grain of salt. These are my personal interpretations of the cards with a sprinkle of intuition. Tarot is not set in stone it is not the end all be all of someones life.

What type is he attracted to?

queen of swords, 8 of wands, knight of swords, 9 of pentacles:

He is attracted to someone who is independent, intelligent, and assertive. He likely values people who are clear-minded, energetic and adventurous, decisive and action-oriented, and self-sufficient and successful.

What type is he not attracted to?

9 of pentacles, 3 of wands, 9 of cups (rx), 10 of wands, king of cups:

He is likely not attracted to people who are emotionally immature, or overly needy, or those who are too burdened by their own emotional or practical struggles. He may also be turned off by those who are too focused on the future without engaging with the present, or those who are overly self-centered to the point of emotional detachment. He may not be attracted to people who are overly emotionally intense or controlling.

What type will he actually end up with?

king of swords, 10 of wands, 7 of swords, the sun:

The person he will end up with is likely to be someone who is intelligent, clear-headed, and values honesty and communication. This person will also bring a sense of balance and joy into his life, despite their own responsibilities and challenges. They might have a strategic, private, or non-confrontational approach to things, but they will offer him a sense of clarity, optimism, and emotional warmth.

What’s he like in private?

the tower, the emperor (rx), wheel of fortune (rx), 9 of swords:

In private, he appears to struggle with a lot of emotional turbulence and unpredictability. He might go through moments of emotional upheaval, and he feels disempowered or lacking control in his personal life. Things may feel out of his control, with life events seemingly working against him, and he may also have anxieties and mental stress that weigh heavily on him, possibly causing him to feel overwhelmed or stuck in cycles of worry and regret.

What are his fears/worries about his career?

7 of wands, 9 of wands, 7 of cups (rx), 2 of cups (rx), 6 of pentacles:

He may fear being constantly challenged, leading to a sense of burnout. There's a worry about making the wrong choices or getting stuck in confusing career paths, and he may also fear difficult partnerships or lack of support in the workplace. He can also be concerned about not being fairly compensated or recognized for his efforts, which could lead to a fear of inequity.

What are his fears/worries about his personal life?

the empress, 8 of wands (rx), 5 of cups (rx), the emperor (rx):

There’s a deep sense of vulnerability and fear of inadequacy. He likely struggles with concerns about being able to nurture and emotionally support those around him, fearing that he may not live up to expectations. There’s also a fear that things in his personal life may become stagnant or not progress the way he hopes, leaving him feeling stuck or uncertain about his future. There can also be some things from his past such as emotional pain, regret, or unresolved issues that seem to weigh on him, preventing him from fully healing or moving forward. This could make it difficult for him to embrace new opportunities or truly open himself to others. He may worry about losing control or failing to provide stability in his relationships or family life. There’s a fear of not being able to maintain the structure and leadership that he feels responsible for, leaving him vulnerable to feelings of weakness or insecurity.

[ladypiscesmoon]

Year ahead Omar Rudberg personal year card: no. 12 Temperance

Let me know if you have any questions or comments about the following reading: reading was done on 1/8

Overall feeling of 2025:

cherry blossom fairy (allow others in to help and nourish you)/autumn angel (imagine feeling at peace in a garden full of flowering plants)

let people take care of you

don't turn away when you receive kindness

let others help you

know that you are loved

don't allow chaotic thoughts to pull you into losing control

take a step back to a more peaceful stance.

breathe deeply and restore the calm around you

Looks like Omar has to let other people in and let them take care of him. He's loved but he has to allow people to help him.

2025 overall:

Fairy Tale Lenormand: lady/stork/dog/scythe/moon/stars/cross/whip/clouds

someone having a child

a trustworthy female

metamorphosis

change

Pregnant friend

Returning to friends

getting help to relocate

Move of a stalker.

Quick endings

something being cut out

the unexpected

a warning

Negative emotions; Emotional harm;

Warnings which come from your intuition

Progress after a disaster

Deciding to go for your dreams

Cutting short your dreams

Killing your vision.

Crucifixion

Struggling with abuse

Painful arguments;

Pain after sports

Pain which comes and goes repeatedly.

Stress affecting your mood

Suffering because of difficult people.

Uncertain sacrifices

Suffering from mental health issues

Overall (Love)

Island Time wellness love oracle cards:

kisses (unconditionally, loving, giving& receiving affection, falling in love)/

healthy( making healthy choices in love and life, self-love, self care, being happier)

sunglasses (watching, looking, stalking, gaslighting, perception, focusing out)

The love Angels oracle cards

deepening

take a leap of faith

love your shadow

There seems to be a real chance this year for Omar to find someone and have a lovely, genuine relationship with this person

Overall (Career/Money)

5 of pentacles reversed/the world/the fool

looks like he's doing good this year. I feel he's likely to do more music this year. I'm not sure about movies/series, it feels like he works a bit more on his music career

Overall (Health)

the hierophant/two of cups/the moon

Last year seems to have been stressful for Omar. He likely suffered from some mental health issues, like depression or anxiety. He will be on the mend this year, as long as he exercises regularly and follows doctor's recommendations.

Month to Month: used decks: tarot/yin yang oracle cards

January

higher self/activation, change/courage

The chariot: you have success in the face of difficulty

direction

focus

determination

concentration

triumph

perseverance

Queen of cups reversed:

moody

withdrawn

insecure

inconsistency of honor

neglected

dependance

martyrdom

to find back his direction Omar has to focus on what he wants to achieve and not mope around to much about things that didn't come his way last year. It's in the past. Concentrate on the future

February

Fate/detours/divine intervention, thoughts/isolating

Page of cups: don't let your emotions get in the way:

sweetness

gentleness

reflective

self-exploration

intuitive

kindness

sensitivity

page of swords reversed:

frivolous

cunning

careless

defensive

incompetent

ideas without action

gossip

He seems his own worst enemy. In public he comes across as someone confident, but he's actually quite sensitive and seems to be prone to portray a lighter image than he feels inside his own house.

There may come gossip his way, and he has to try and take that as it is, rather than reacting to it. It will pass, he shouldn't be too serious about it.

March

Freedom/leap/Uranus/opportunities, disharmony/triggers/conflict

3 of swords: a harsh truth is better than a soft lie

pain

suffering

bitter truth

separation

strife

selfishness

heartbreak

King of swords reversed:

deceitful

tyrannical

crafty

imprudent

unpredictable

disorganized

Setbacks create stress and disillusion. There's someone that promises something, but this person can't be trusted. Loss of possibilities or it could be a more personal reason, but I keep thinking a lost possibility in his work.

April

Reflection/projections, ace/water/water sign (pisces, cancer, scorpio)

3 of wands: Find your inspiration to take action

preparation, planning, expansion

established force

nobility

succes

openness

honesty

the magician reversed:

insecurity

ineptitude

weakness of will

illusion

manipulation

pretty much the same as in April; he is set up to succeed but his own insecurity/illusion is causing stagnation. He shouldn't trust someone, maybe a water sign, but since he's a scorpio, the water sign could also refer to himself

May

Mercury/travel/communication, third eye/clarity

9 of pentacles: enjoy the results of all your hard work

accomplishment

inheritance

covetousness

self-care

reward

satisfaction

luxury

8 of cups reversed: need for rebirth, changes, settles decisions

temporary success

searching for riches

drifting

withdrawal

numbness

If he has faith in himself , he can be successful. He has to time to think about new plans, learn to navigate the changes. learn to communicate better. There will be time for traveling or a trip.

June

self love/creation/intentions, healing/inner child

the hanged man reversed: creativity, problems-solving, groups &growth

failure to give of oneself

lack of sacrifice

indecision

frustrated action

queen of pentacles reversed: stability, form, foundation to rest on

undecided

capricious

moody

foolish

suffocating

nagging

materialistic

jealous

he should concentrate on what he has achieved, or will achieve. Not whining or being jealous about things not going his way right away. Sometimes his energy comes through as someone being moody and immature.

July

feminine, family/home/commitment

7 of pentacles: look back on what you have achieved &set new goals

planning

progress

perseverance

diligence

reflection

necessity

remembering

the devil: you are only limited by what you believe is possible

bondage

materialism

obsession

shadow self

repression

powerlessness

This seems to be the main theme this year for Omar: have faith in yourself. Don't want more and more, be satisfied with what you have. The universe is urging him to look back at his achievements and be satisfied about what he has achieved in the past years. He comes across as very ambitious and a little bit entitled sometimes, like he thinks he has a right to success. But success comes with a little bit of humility as well. Family and friends, love is also important in life. Some female in his life is going to help him with this.

August

nurture/compassion, distance/retreat or time out

the lovers: celebrate the love in your life

inspiration

motivation

love

beauty

action

commitment

choices

unity

3 of cups reversed:

new approaches to old problems

new events and possibilities

enthusiasm for life

acceptance

This looks like a more cheerful month for Omar. He may find love again, someone who is nurturing and compassionate. This person can give him another outlook on life, hence igniting in him a new fire and motivation and appreciation for life

September

decisions/forming, structure, solid foundation

temperance reversed:

discord

disunion

conflict of interest

impatience

instability

8 of swords: it seems like you are blocked, but you can still take a step.

disempowerment

fears

doubts

uncontrolled thoughts

fuitless overthinking

captivity

One step forward, but also two steps back. He's learning to avoid overthinking and doubts. His impatience does affect his decisions and it's not helping him.

October

control/tactics, facade/beliefs

9 of swords reversed

patience

unselfishness

timidity

control

decisions made

finding help

10 of swords reversed

recovery

regeneration

rebirth

beneficial

improvement

advantage

profit

This month he seems to better handle his insecurities and as a result he will feel better and achieve more.

November

detachment/cold, receive/open

king of pentacles: continue to solve issues in practical ways.

realistic

solid

good character

intelligence

steady, reliable

providing

the tower

collapse

upheaval

destruction

foundational shift

Reality check

Ambition

Adversity

The tower is probably a good thing in this month, since his lesson for this year is to have faith in himself. To have that, he has to make changes in how he thinks and not let his emotions take over when he makes decisions.

December

Shadow side/moon/the dark night, fire sign/ ace

The empress reversed

Laziness

Dependency

Lack of concentration

Inaction

Lack of inspiration

6 of swords reversed

Stuck

Stalemate

Unwanted proposals

Unaccepted offers

Lack of empathy

A relapse, I think.

All in all a year with challenges, but he seems to do okay for most of it.

*This reading is alleged and for entertainment purposes only*

January-April

May-August

September-December

[mslanna]

Diabolus Interruptus

Chapter 9 of Be My Guest now up on AO3

In which Haarlep has the time of their life, Tav gets a hug, and Raphael goes to war despite rather fucking the living daylights outta his mousling. Also, everybody pretends with me that time is wibbly wobbly.

"You look tired, my dear." Raphael observes as he passes Tav by in the Feast Hall.

Unable to fall asleep again, Tav took refuge in the big room that is usually frequented by many people. Being alone doesn't feel safe right now. Tav cannot be trusted around their own body. They don't look up and shake their head in the hope it will suffice. After all the big battle has to be soon.

Tav wonders if that is a reason Raphael choose Haarlep in their shape. An uncertain future looming ahead, one last chance, if everything failed, to have his way. What would they do if it was possibly their last day alive? Fuck Raphael? It wasn't out of the question.

"Is something bothering you?" Raphael stops by undeterred by his guest's feeble attempt to lose him.

"Can’t sleep," Tav mumbles. Maybe digging their own grave is a decent way out of this.

"It's an important day," Raphael replies. "It is only normal that sleep is an elusive thing. You will find your way to deal with it. We all do."

"I bet," Tav snorts under their breath. When the devil leans down for an explanation, they rest their hands on their folded arms. They can't even accuse him of breaking deal. All Raphael promised was that Tav's shape was off limits for visitors.

"I cannot hear whatever you mumble into your arms," Raphael says his voice heavy with disapproval.

"It's not for you ears." Tav raises their head to face him. "Maybe I'll talk to Haarlep."

An immaculate brow rises. "Finally giving in to your more base desires?" There is hope and greed in his tone.

"Talk, Raphael. A concept you should understand just fine because you like talking a lot." Tav snaps. "Maybe because you like to hear yourself talk too much."

"Oh, somebody hasn't slept well at all," he tuts. "No matter. I said Haarlep stands at your disposal and I am curious to see if talking will work out for you this time." He laughs to himself as he leaves to prepare for battle. Orders need issuing and the generals are leaving one by one.

Tav drops their head back to their arms. They definitely intend to talk only. But Haarlep is an incubus. Who knew what would happen in the end. Nothing. Tav straightens. If they can feel what Raphael does to Haarlep in their shape, it definitely works the other way round as well. The last thing they need is for the devil to be distracted by them riding Haarlep into oblivion and mess up his war.

Their cheeks burn at the thought. It would be sweet, petty revenge. It could also be their doom.

When Tav arrives in the boudoir, Haarlep ushers them through and plants an absent kiss on their head. "The generals started leaving and some need last minute ministrations. The prospect of violence makes them all so horny."

Since a musical number is difficult to get in with all those unpredictable interruptions, Haarlep ropes Tav into finally playing Lanceboard in earnest. While not as fun as singing and being hard on the braincells, it can easily be interrupted.

The board is put up on the left balcony and Haarlep ensures the curtain to close it off is soundproof as well.

"Think about it as a grace period until your next move." Haarlep winks before closing the curtain behind them. Tav stares at the board and wishes all the general to the hells. Unfortunately, that's where they already are. And it's not as if the extra time to think ever helps.

"Still your move?" the incubus teases when they return.

"What does it matter? I always lose anyway." Tav sighs and puts their head in their hands.

"You look decidedly unhappy," Haarlep observes. "How about a nap? The armies moved out. I think a hug will do you good."

Tav regards the red figure on the other side of the table. After getting the idea of hugs and cuddles, the incubus took to both rather well. If it was for personal reasons or because those did indeed lift Tav's mood considerably was open for debate. They were a stout ally to the paladin in this house and regardless of their motives, Tav was grateful. The House of Hope is a lonely place for a mortal soul with nowhere to go.

"Maybe you're right," they sigh. "You sure nobody will come barraging in for a last minute fuck?"

"Oh, they already have." Haarlep stands and offers a hand. "Trust me, by now I know who needs last minute relief unless they start strategising with their cock or cunt."

"And here I was thinking fiends are above such things." Tav takes the offered hand. It is soft as if Haarlep hasn't worked a day in their life when nothing could be further from the truth.

"Oh, you are so cute when you're utterly naive." The incubus guides Tav into the boudoir. The huge bed stands pristine as ever, as if nobody ever used it. Also something that couldn't be further from the truth. They kick the footstool back into place so the human has an easier time climbing the towering bed.

With a last glance at the open curtains to the pool, Tav slips out of their shirt and pants. For a moment the moving fabric whisper a cool breeze over their skin, then the warm air of the house engulfs them once more. They join Haarlep who already lies on the silken sheets, arms wide to pull Tav into a tight embrace.

It feels strange to rest in the incubus' arms, face secured against their throat, one arm slung lazily across the broad chest. Tav feels the leather harness press dents into their skin, the wing covering them almost like a blanket. They wrap one leg around Haarlep's and close their eyes. The arm around their shoulders holds them close, a warm shield against the world.

They wake abruptly, when Raphael's voice thunders through the room. Tav clings to Haarlep, eyes closed and evening out their breath. They hope the devil doesn't notice they woke. He doesn't sound happy at all with what he found.

"Did you know," Haarlep asks smugly, running one hand down Tav's back, "that mortals need non-sexual touch to stay healthy? A surprise, no doubt."

"And I am to believe that?" Raphael's voice is tense.

"My, my. You offered all of me up to our house guest," the incubus mocks. "Why so worried when they only claim a part?"

"I worry more about what you are making of those claims." Raphael's eyes rake over the mortal snug against Haarlep's side. Tav does wear pants, so the incubus may just be telling the truth. Another thought snaps into his mind: ever since his form was off the menu as well except for the little house guest, he has not felt a touch of arousal.

His jaw clenches. What had been a great idea to keep tabs on Tav, had turned into a nagging tool of defeat. However much time Tav spent with Haarlep, not once were they tempted to sleep with them. Raphael takes in his copy and grinds his teeth. Haarlep is as perfect as they came. It is an insult. One Tav doesn't even know they uphold every day.

When he concentrates, he can feel the soft arm slack across his chest, though; the cool body pressed against Haarlep's side, face cradled against their neck. It's little more than a hint of an impression, easy to miss. Raphael narrows his eyes, pushing away the question of how often he may have missed that.

"And that works?" The devil's tone is hard and dubious.

"Like a charm," Haarlep assures him.

Tav pretends to be asleep with their whole soul. The last thing they want is to get roped into this argument. The mattress shifts as Raphael climbs onto the bed and a tense moment later, Tav feels his weight settle against their back.

Their first thought after a stunned ‘oh’ is that Raphael sure came for something else if his bare chest is anything to go by. Tav clenches their eyes shut when a curious part of their mind wonders how naked the devil is. Unthinking they arch against his chest, a low moan dropping into Haarlep.

"They like that," the incubus coos, their hand moving from Tav's back to that to the devil resting over them.

Raphael doesn't reply and silence falls. "They are not sleeping though, are they," he finally growls.

"I think they are worried about you," Haarlep agrees. "After all, you might do anything."

The devil rumbles an unintelligible answer. The tension stays, though Tav tries to relax and enjoy the touch of the devil's actual skin against theirs. It is warm as Haarlep's, a little less smooth and claiming in a way the incubus is not.

"Maybe I let the two of you work this one out," Haarlep says into Tav's thoughts. The incubus slips out under them and leaves the devil and mortal behind. The silken sheets under Tav's belly are warm from their heat and do not notice the fire from Tav's face being added.

"So tell me," Raphael's words burn against Tav's ear. "Does this make you healthy? Happy?" He adds with a suggestive growl.

Tav thinks their situation through. On the one hand, Raphael sounds less than pleased about it. On the other hand he is still flattening them into the sheets with no sign of moving - war or no war. His skin is hot, ridges pressing into Tav's soft flesh. They could just enjoy the fleeting moment before the devil slips through their fingers again.

Or.

Bracing themself, Tav squirms under Raphael's weight until they are on their back. The devil rises a little to allow their movement, a brow raised inquiringly.

Tav looks up at the familiar face, its proximity causing a wad of yearning in their stomach. The black-hole eyes seem darker than usual, the golden coronas of fire all the brighter for it. His lips are pulled into a tight line and a single strand of hair trespasses from his temple down the side of his face. Tav knows they stare a devil in the face, even if the red skin and wicked curved horns hadn't given it away. And the devil stares back, waiting, ready to pounce.

Tav's pulse quickens and their heart longs to beat out of their chest. It takes concentration to breathe. The smart thing, Tav's brain screams, the smart thing is to hold very still and hope this too passes.

But being smart isn't something Tav is accused of often. They reach up and cup Raphael's face with both hands. The rugged skin smoulders into their palms as they gently tug. When there is no reaction, Tav arches up into a gentle kiss.

The world stills and for a moment and hell freezes over. Then Raphael returns the kiss, pressing Tav back onto the pillow with unbridled desire.

His taste runs down their throat like whisky, burning a path that skirts the stomach in favour of lower regions. Tav moans into the shared hunger, a noise the devil breaks apart between his teeth, sending his tongue deep into Tav's waiting mouth.

He drops the weight of his whole body on Tav who pulls him close. Their hands wander up to the devils horns, gripping them tight as he ravages their mouth. Hunger morphs into need and they gasp for air when their lips part for a broken moment. Tav buries their hands in his hair, letting its silken texture caress their fingers.

Raphael's weight seems to increase as he spreads his wings in a display of power. Tav yields, opening their legs so the devil rests against their damp crotch. Sharp teeth bite down in retaliation, leaving a trail of wet, red marks down Tav's throat. They feel him hard and ready. It is fast, a rush to get to the finish line, but this may be the only chance they get. Tav leans into it.

"Master, your armies. They are waiting." Haarlep's voice has never been this prim and precise as it cuts through the heated air of the boudoir. It works like a perfect insult.

Raphael pulls back, looking down at the flushed face of Tav. Their eyes are dilated with want, lips wet and bruised, forming a small round opening of desire. Small moans drip from it as the human stretches up against the devil. For a moment, Raphael indulges, plunges his thumb into the waiting mouth and relishes in the tongue caressing it immediately.

Tav sucks on the offered finger, settling into the helpless frustration. Almost. Cock-blocked by an infernal war. They let their tongue linger for a moment, teasing the sharp claw against it almost deep enough to draw blood.

"The war won't wait," Tav gets out, every word breezy with want. "I will be right here."

Annoyance is written all over Raphael's face. He leans down into a last angry kiss, teeth raking over Tav's mouth. "You better be."

Cold floods Tav's skin when the devil rises. A snap of his fingers summon his battle armour and whatever moment they had is swallowed by the war machine. Tav remains alone on the bed, face and pussy wet and wanting. With a groan they drop back against the pillow and throw an arm over their eyes.

"You're doing amazing, dear," Haarlep calls over. After seeing off their master, the incubus returns to Tav's side. Red skin, warm and smooth, snuggles up against Tav and a strong arm curls around their shoulders pulling them back against Haarlep's chest. "Let's just hope he doesn't bungle the battle thinking with his bulge now."

Tav buries their face in the crook of Haarlep's neck with a groan.

"There, there." The incubus pats their back. "You sleep now. That's what you came here for after all, is it not." They rub Tav's back and add "sweet dreams" with more innuendo than should fit into two words.

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

TYO Essay

A while back, I mentioned I wrote an essay for my previous uni course where I used TYO as a source to look at the early 1980s. @a-a-a-anon expressed an interest in reading it, so here ya go! The quality of it is seriously iffy (I was 18/19 when I wrote it and had no idea how to actually write or reference academic essays yet, and just the quality of the writing makes me cringe a bit). There was also more I wanted to say but couldn't due to the word limit (don't remember what these other things were now). Despite all that, the lecturer liked it, and it was cool I got to write about TYO for uni.

The Young Ones as a Cultural Source for Early 1980s Britain

Although today in Britain the future often feels uncertain – the global pandemic notwithstanding, Brexit is still looming on the horizon – the Britons of 40 years ago doubtlessly felt similarly, albeit for different reasons. In the early 1980s, the threat of nuclear war was palpable, as the existence of Protect and Survive[1] attests to. Nuclear war paranoia influenced British culture in the 1980s, with bleak examples such as the BBC film Threads (1984) and Raymond Briggs’ When the Wind Blows (1986) still remembered keenly today. Both fictionalisations of nuclear war featured material from Protect and Survive and highlighted the message of contemporary nuclear disarmament protestors: no one can win a nuclear war. Of the less apocalyptic issues, unemployment hit 3 million (about 11.7%[2]) in 1983 – for comparison, in 2019 it was estimated to be at 1.281 million (about 3.6%[3]). The Thatcher administrations’ efforts to break from the post-war consensus and embrace neo-liberalism created divisions in society. Yet, amidst threats of nuclear war, mass unemployment, the decline of British industry and the growth of individualism, a cultural revolution in comedy dubbed “alternative comedy” was fast taking hold in Britain – and in much the same way Thatcherism’s impacts can still be felt on society today, so too can alternative comedy’s.

Running for 2 series (12 episodes in total) on BBC2 between 1982-84, anarchic and slightly surreal sitcom The Young Ones epitomised the break between older styles of comedy and the new wave. Although The Young Ones has been called ground-breaking and classic, it is also now regarded as somewhat dated for its jokes pertaining to current events. Therefore, its scripts are an interesting source for an insight into the time in which it was produced and based: early 1980s Britain.

Firstly, it is important to understand what The Young Ones actually was. Written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Lise Mayer[4] and with additional material provided by Alexei Sayle, it followed the misadventures of four vastly different university students at the fictional Scumbag College in North London. Whilst the four were never seen doing anything remotely akin to studying, it aimed at being representative of university life, students and the squalor they lived in. The show was not a conventional sitcom in that it did not pertain to a family and it featured a musical act in every episode so that it could be classified as “light entertainment”, as the BBC had no further budget available for sitcoms at the time. Because many of its principal actors came from the stand-up comedy circuit, there was an emphasis on excitement and unpredictability over discernible plots and many memorable scenes featured characters injuring themselves and others, destroying bits of the set and crashing through walls, as well as randomly interspersed and unrelated cutaway gag segments. There was a cartoonish level of slapstick violence, swearing and toilet humour, which appear milder to today’s palate than 40 years ago.

British audiences were divided by The Young Ones mostly along age lines, with younger viewers engaging readily with this new style of comedy and older viewers seeing it as unnecessarily vulgar and silly. Indeed, the characters that had been transplanted from their actors’ stand-up routines were deliberately disgusting, exaggerated caricatures and horrible to one another. Mayall himself played wannabe lefty anarchist Rick, who frequently came to rather explosive blows with the violent punk medical student, Vyvyan (played by Mayall’s comedy partner, Adrian Edmondson). Also featured was badly done to, depressed hippie Neil (played by Nigel Planer) and the mysterious leader and straight man of the group, Mike The Cool Person (played by Christopher Ryan, the only one of the core cast without a comedy background). Sayle too appeared in every episode as either their hated landlord Balowski or a member of his family, where he would deliver a short stand-up monologue to the camera. The show’s title (and opening theme) was derived from the Cliff Richard song of the same name, as Mayall’s character was a huge fan.

The Young Ones took on the issues of its day, perhaps none more so than the episode “Bomb”. “Bomb” uses dark humour to address fears over nuclear war by having an atom bomb land in the characters’ kitchen at the start of the episode. Even before the characters deal with the unexploded bomb, the script is already hinting at the theme of nuclear war in this cutaway gag sequence, featuring a family on a packet of cereal:

FATHER: Would you two shut up and keep smiling? We’re supposed to be the ideal nuclear family!

GIRL: Post-nuclear, more like!

Not only was this segment ridiculing the “ideal nuclear family” that was promoted by the Thatcher governments – none of the characters posing as a family get along at all and the “father” reveals himself to be gay, thus exposing the lie that there is truly an “ideal” family – it also managed to slip in a quick gag about nuclear war. This reflected a genuine belief by many at the time that nuclear war was coming, especially amongst the young.[5]

When the main characters finally become aware of the bomb in their kitchen, the script offers this response:

NEIL: I’m going upstairs to get the incredibly helpful and informative “Protect and Survive” manual! Nobody better touch this while I’m gone!

This reference to the Protect and Survive manual, which at the time and retrospectively has been regarded as useless in the event of an actual nuclear attack, appears for the purpose of ridiculing it. Having the character of Neil act as though the manual could help deal with something as serious as an atom bomb in the kitchen employs sarcasm as a critical tool. Protect and Survive featured suggestions such as painting the windows of the house white in order to deflect the heat from a blast, which The Young Ones also satirised:

RICK: Neil, can you lend me five- What are you doing?

[NEIL is reading his survival manual while painting himself white with a paintbrush]

NEIL: Oh, painting myself white to deflect the blast.

RICK: That’s great, isn’t it? Racial discrimination, even in death! What are these? [indicates a few lunchbags on the table]

NEIL: Sandbags!

The misinterpretation of the manual’s instructions, as well as the substitution of items deemed vital for items found in the house, reflects the feeling that most British households were simply unprepared for a nuclear attack and stood very little chance of survival. This is compounded later in the episode, when the four main characters resort to hiding underneath the kitchen table as a means of escaping the blast of the bomb – something many had resorted to in air raids during WWII but which was drastically inadequate protection against an atom bomb. This episode also portrayed the nihilism in British culture over nuclear war – a nihilism that can be found in other cultural sources, such as The Smiths song “Ask”[6] – through the character of Vyvyan, who spends much of the episode attempting to set the bomb off.

This show being the work of alternative comedians, The Young Ones also utilised its anarchic tone to critique the Thatcher administration of the time. This was usually done through the character of Rick, who blamed Margaret Thatcher for most problems faced by the group. Though his character existed to satirise upper-class closet conservatives as well as overzealous student activists, he was something of a mouthpiece for the left-wing writers. Some of his more memorable outbursts include:

RICK: We haven’t got any money! Vyvyan’s baby will be a pauper! Oliver Twist! Jeffrey Dickens! Back to Victorian values! [directly to camera, angrily] I hope you’re satisfied, Thatcher!

RICK: Neil! The bathroom’s free! Unlike the country under the Thatcherite junta!

Other characters were used to critique the government too:

RICK: School’s out forever! Yeah, come on everyone! Let all your hairs hang out! Do whatever you want!

MIKE: What’s all the excitement, Rick? Has education finally been cut altogether? That’s the only reason I voted Tory.

The first of these is a reference to the 1983 interview in which Thatcher endorsed a return to “Victorian values”. That is, a rolling back of the state to unburden the individual and set them free to prosper, should they put the effort in. This New Right attitude, combined with the high unemployment figures from that year, created the view that Thatcherism was about looking out for “number one”. This wasn’t aided by Employment Secretary Norman Tebbit’s “Get On Your Bike” speech at the Conservative Party Conference in 1981. The Young Ones captured the mood of particularly the youth in such a climate – one in which many felt misunderstood and patronised – in a cutaway segment featuring the fictional TV programme Nozin’ Aroun’:

BAZ: Rol! A lot of my mates say to me, “Oh Baz, what is the point?” What would you say to them?

ROLAND: Well surely, Baz, your mates must realise that there definitely is a point!

BAZ: So a real message of hope and good cheer there – from Roland, a really ace guy!

To summarise; just as is the case today, early 1980s Britons were facing uncertainty. This was especially the case for anyone working in manufacturing industries, as the unsuccess of the Miners’ Strike of 1984 signified a wider trend in British industry. The government’s overarching aim of turning society away from one in which a “nanny state” risked making people idle to one where everyone was free to accumulate wealth that would trickle down to the less well off was never going to be a smooth period to live through. The last tremors of the Cold War didn’t help make the period more bearable. Yet, it is often harder or uncertain times where laughter becomes more valuable to people and The Young Ones – though not to everyone’s political or cultural tastes – undeniably provided some release for younger generations. To call it an entirely accurate depiction of early 1980s Britain would be to forget that its primary purpose was amusement. Nevertheless, it does provide a colourful insight and one that is remembered with fondness by those who grew up watching it, even today.

[1] Protect and Survive was a series of government issued pamphlets, public information films and radio broadcasts produced in the late 1970s/early 1980s, to be distributed 72 hours before a nuclear attack was expected. Public interest meant they were released in 1980.

[2] https://countryeconomy.com/unemployment/uk?dr=1983-12, December 1983

[3] Office for National Statistics, December 2019

[4] All of whom are alumni of the University of Manchester.

[5] After speaking to some adults who were young during this period, Mr Smith revealed how (aged 11 in 1983) he told his class: “I want to be there when the bomb drops. I want to be right next to it so I’m disintegrated and don’t know anything about it.” Additionally, he was under the impression that a bomb would likely be dropped on Piccadilly Gardens, Manchester.

[6] “If it’s not love / Then it’s the bomb / Then it’s the bomb that will bring us together” – S. Morrissey & J. Marr, “Ask”, The World Won’t Listen, 1987

Bibliography:

Sources:

B. Elton, R. Mayall & L. Mayer, “Demolition”, The Young Ones, BBC2, 1982

B. Elton, R. Mayall & L. Mayer, “Bomb”, The Young Ones, BBC2, 1982

B. Elton, R. Mayall & L. Mayer, “Cash”, The Young Ones, BBC2, 1984

B. Elton, R. Mayall & L. Mayer, “Nasty”, The Young Ones, BBC2, 1984

B. Elton, R. Mayall & L. Mayer, “Summer Holiday”, The Young Ones, BBC2, 1984

Central Office of Information, Protect and Survive, Her Majesty’s Stationary Office, 1980

Transcript of Brian Walden interview with Margaret Thatcher for BBC, 1983: https://www.margaretthatcher.org/document/105087

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 5 || Harry Styles x Mafia

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

author's note: I just wanted to come on here and thank everyone who has joined Patreon and also everyone who has started following me on here! thank you so so much! I'll be forever thankful for contributing to my education!

warnings: violence, cursing and more.

masterist of vicious

word count: 2.1K

"He's gone." Federico had essentially abandoned her there. He denied her a place in the car, covertly ordered her bags packed, leaving her feeling betrayed by her own father. She wasn't prepared to move in; the prospect of residing in the unfamiliar manor, with its intricate family dynamics, intimidated her. Y/N sensed the impending challenges of being accepted into the family, particularly given her less-than-amicable start with Harry. Fear gripped her as she contemplated the potential difficulties that lay ahead. "I suppose I'm moving in now."

"Who gave you that order?" Harry's questioning tone cut through the air. The last thing he needed was an unfamiliar presence wandering the estate, potentially stirring up trouble. His distrust of her was palpable—she wasn't part of the family, and in his eyes, that meant she hadn't earned any respect or loyalty.

"My father," Y/N retorted, a hint of annoyance evident in her eyes. "Listen, I don't want to be here. The feeling is mutual. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I'm able to leave."

Harry turned to Charlie, seeking answers. "Where is Lex?" Confusion mirrored on Charlie's face, matching Harry's bewilderment.

"He's downstairs, disposing of some things," Y/N revealed, her eyes rolling in disdain.

"He's taking care of the body downstairs," she added, a subtle revelation conveyed to Harry. His sharp gaze turned towards the Italian woman.

"No one was talking to you. Mind your own fucking business," Charlie snapped at Y/N, an unspoken tension filling the room. Unfazed, Y/N merely shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the hostility directed her way. The stage was set for a collision of personalities within the intricate web of the English mafia.

"Go find Silas," Harry commanded Charlie.

"Where is he?"

"How would I know, Charlie?! Go find him. He is probably doing nothing as always," Harry retorted, his frustration evident. The presence of Y/N in the estate irked him; it meant he had to be more discreet about his activities. Her moving in seemed to symbolize a level of commitment he wasn't ready for.

"Who is Silas?" Y/N inquired, her tone laced with curiosity. "Also, can I get a room? Just to leave all of my stuff and shit?"

"Do you know that you ask too many questions?" Harry responded, fingers flying over his phone as he texted Lex, attempting to bring him into his immediate service. There were tasks at hand, and Lex was the only one capable of assisting him.

"You called?" Silas appeared, extricating himself from Charlie's grasp. She had essentially pulled him away from his haven, where he spent his days immersed in books, avoiding the inevitable clashes with Harry.

"Find Y/N a room and keep her out of the way," Harry ordered Silas. The strained atmosphere between the brothers had lingered since their father's funeral, the bitter taste of disappointment for Silas, who felt that Arthur's will had unequivocally favored Harry. Silas turned to glance at Y/N, sizing her up with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

"Who do you think I am? Her fucking babysitter?" Silas spat, disdain dripping from his words. "I've got better things to do than to be at your beck and call." He pivoted on his heel, ready to leave, but Harry had other plans. Something had snapped within him—perhaps it was the insubordination in front of Y/N and his men or the lingering discomfort from Silas's entrance at their father's funeral. Whatever it was, Harry saw red.

Without warning, Harry reached out and seized Silas by the back of his shirt, forcefully bringing him back. A swift punch connected with Silas's nose, and the onslaught continued. The sounds of bones crunching and blood splattering filled the air, and Y/N, horrified, shouted, "STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!" Desperation colored her voice as she tried to pull the enraged Harry away from his battered brother.

Y/N surveyed the room, taking in the unsettling sight of men passively observing Harry disfigure Silas's face. A chilling stillness gripped the air; none of them made a move, objected, or attempted to intervene. They knew the unwritten rule: interfering would redirect Harry's wrath onto themselves, and none dared to challenge the boss. The ominous tableau unfolded, a tableau of silent submission.

Harry eventually halted his assault, his knuckles worn and Silas's body limp beneath him. The room bore witness to a scene reminiscent of a crime documentary, with Harry rising from his knees to his feet. Specks of blood adorned the collar and sleeves of his button-down shirt, and his hands were stained, knuckles split open. Unfazed, he pushed his hair back, presenting a picture of calculated violence.

Without a word to Y/N or anyone else, Harry retrieved a cigarette from his pocket. As he walked past Y/N, a cold and sinister look lingered on his face, leaving an indelible impression on the room's atmosphere.

Y/N waited until Harry left the room and knelt beside Silas. His face bore the evidence of the brutal assault—cuts, a fractured nose, bruised and purple skin, busted lip, and injured eyebrows.

“Don’t touch him or move him,” Charlie warned, already dialing his phone.

“He needs help,” she argued, the memories of her father's similar actions resurfacing, though never with such hatred and never directed at his own brother.

“I know,” Charlie nodded, “What do you think I am doing?” Within ten minutes, the medic and nurse living on the grounds arrived. Silas was carefully transferred upstairs. Y/N could only hope he would recover.

Charlie guided her to a room, noticeably smaller and darker than what she was accustomed to.

“I'm sure this will be enough for you,” Charlie stated. “Dinner will be at eight,” he added before leaving the bedroom. The bed, though not as grand as her usual one, boasted a beautiful canopy, casting a shadow over the somber atmosphere of the English manor.

The bedroom held an air of antiquity, its walls adorned with dark, polished wood paneling that seemed to absorb the ambient light. Heavy drapes, drawn tightly shut, further dimmed the space, casting an almost melancholic aura. The canopy over the bed boasted intricate patterns, a testament to craftsmanship from a bygone era. Despite the opulence of the bed, the room's overall atmosphere felt cold and unwelcoming. An ornate vanity mirror stood in the corner, reflecting the somber scene within the room. The furniture, though well-maintained, bore signs of wear, hinting at the passage of time and the weight of secrets held within the walls of the English manor.

Y/N immersed herself in the task of unfolding and hanging the clothes that had been packed for her, all the while dialing her best friend, Giana. Their friendship had withstood the test of time, enduring since the tender age of five. However, Giana now lived in the clutches of an Italian marriage, leaving Y/N feeling the void of her absence.

"Hi," Giana whispered, orchestrating her escape from the bedroom into the bathroom, where the sound of running water provided a disguise for her voice. The last thing Giana needed was to be overheard by her husband, Augusto. “How is everything?”

"My dad basically kicked me out of the house. I am now staying con gli inglesi," Y/N shared, her voice reflecting a mix of frustration and sadness.

"How is Harry treating you?" Giana inquired, sensing an underlying distress in her friend's response. Y/N couldn't hold back tears as she recounted the distressing scene she had just witnessed. "Quello che è successo?" Giana asked, concerned and probing for details.

"He beat his brother almost to death. It was horrible," Y/N admitted between soft sobs. The realization of the kind of man Harry was had unsettled her deeply. "I don’t know if I can take all of this. I want to leave already. Maybe it is time to put our plan in action."

Giana glanced nervously at the locked bathroom door, a barrier between her and the turmoil of her own married life.

"I don’t know, Y/N," she hesitantly responded. "What if we get caught? The repercussions can be worse."

"But what if we succeed, G? What if we can finally get away from all this shit and live a tranquil life, running that little cafe that you have always wanted to open in a very secluded town? Far and far away from our fathers and nightmares?" Y/N proposed, yearning for an escape from the suffocating grip of their current lives.

Before Giana could respond, and while she contemplated her life, the door began to be pounded by Augusto as he screamed for her to come out.

“I- I can’t, Y/N,” she nervously said, attempting to stay focused on their conversation rather than her husband's escalating shouts. “He won’t let me. He'll search until he finds me.”

“We can do it. You deserve a better life, G. Remember how miserably our mothers were and how young they died,” Y/N urged, able to hear the escalating shouts and the incessant banging on the door.

“Bene, but it must happen tonight,” Giana clarified. Her husband had some business to attend to, which only meant that she would have time to devise a plan to escape the premises.

“Okay. Stasera. Call me when you are able,” Y/N finally said before hanging up. The urgency in Giana's situation only fueled their determination to break free from the shackles of their oppressive lives.

She couldn’t wait. Y/N had to leave before dinner. At dinner all the men would be gather and waiting for her appereance. She had to escape before. That was the only way that she wuld have a chance.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her mind racing as she contemplated the escape plan. She glanced around the room, looking for any potential obstacles or challenges. The window seemed like her best bet; it was a risk, but she had to take it. The room's dim lighting and heavy drapes provided some cover, and she knew Harry would be too occupied with whatever he had happening to go check on her.

First, she quietly opened the window, praying it wouldn't creak and give her away. The chilly night air swept into the room, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She gathered a few essentials into a small bag – some clothes, her passport, and a bit of money she had managed to save over the years.

Y/N could still hear Harry’s muffled shouts from the other side of the house, giving her a sense of urgency. She looked back at the bed, debating whether to leave a note, but to who? None cared enough for her to want to know.

She experimented with various drapes and bed sheets from her room, carefully easing them down the window. Surveying the scene from her vantage point, she concluded that the space below was empty, ensuring her descent would go unnoticed.

With a quick glance around the room to make sure she had packed all the essentials in her bag, Y/N took a deep breath, summoning the courage to execute her plan. She wrapped the makeshift rope around her hands, securing it tightly, and then began her descent, cautiously lowering herself from the window.

The night air brushed against her face as she descended, and each inch brought her closer to freedom. The silence of the estate enveloped her, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and excitement. The ground neared, and with a soft landing, she released the makeshift rope.

Swiftly making her way to the edge of the property, Y/N took cover in the shadows, avoiding any security cameras or patrolling guards.

Waiting until the echoes of footsteps and voices faded into the night, Y/N swiftly darted into the dense woods. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting an ethereal glow on her determined face. Each step carried her farther away from the imposing estate and the looming fate of an arranged marriage to Harry.

Navigating the shadows and weaving through the trees, Y/N pressed on with a sense of urgency. The forest concealed her movements as she sought a path that would lead her to a road, a lifeline to escape the impending union. The rustling leaves beneath her hurried steps seemed to echo the beats of her racing heart.

In the silence of the woods, Y/N contemplated the enormity of her decision. Yet, the prospect of freedom, away from the suffocating expectations and uncertainties, fueled her resolve. The night air carried both the weight of her familial ties and the promise of a new beginning, and she pressed on, guided by the hope of a life of her own choosing.

Chapter 6

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[askgildaseniors]

The excerpt explores the idea of perfection and the challenges of striving for it. Jaina Lee Ortiz believes perfection is impossible to achieve, and accepting this is crucial for personal growth. She also realizes that things don't always go as planned, which is an important part of her journey. Jaina emphasizes the need to adjust expectations to avoid disappointment, suggesting that setting extremely high standards often leads to dissatisfaction when they're not met.

Another important point in the discussion is the struggle with Impostor Syndrome. This psychological pattern, where people doubt their abilities and fear being exposed to fraud, can greatly affect one's confidence and performance. Jaina admits to experiencing this syndrome, which makes her even more careful about setting expectations. Instead, she tries to be cautiously optimistic—balancing hope with realism—so that potential failures don't negatively impact her self-esteem.

The concept of cautious optimism is a practical way to manage expectations and emotions. It allows Jaina to stay hopeful about the future without being too attached to a specific outcome. This helps protect against the disappointment that often comes with unmet high expectations, leading to a healthier view of success and failure. This approach can be especially helpful in uncertain and unpredictable personal and professional situations.

Overall, the passage highlights the importance of being flexible and kind to oneself when faced with imperfection and self-doubt. By recognizing that perfection is impossible and many people experience Impostor Syndrome, Jaina suggests adopting a balanced and realistic approach to life. This mindset encourages individuals to celebrate their accomplishments without being overly critical of their flaws, ultimately leading to greater personal fulfillment and success.

[phvle]

Ne as a base (1st) function (ILE and IEE)

The individual is skilled at generating intellectual interest and curiosity in others and using others’ curiosity to get them to do things.

He easily sees parallels between different situations, areas of knowledge or skill, and people, and likes to establish contacts across different fields of knowledge and social groups, which allows him to be part of many things at once. He enjoys considering differing viewpoints and perspectives and seeing if they can be reconciled.

He enjoys the beginning stages of just about anything - new projects, acquiring new skills, experiencing new people and relationships. Preparing for and launching something new is seen as having greater value than the process of experiencing what one already has and finishing what one has begun. The concept of “finishing” seems foreign to him. Instead of taking care to finish things and tie up all loose ends, he tends to drop things when he can’t handle them any longer or realize that he has neglected them for too long (this might be equally related to suggestive introverted sensing).

Ne as a creative (2nd) function (LII and EII)

The individual likes to apply his insight to specific situations, relating them to the bigger picture. He also enjoys discussing idealized circumstances or what could be rather than what is. Consequently, he usually has high standards, even unreasonably so, for those around him.

He does not pursue ideas or new opportunities merely for their own sake, but for their application to specific questions and issues that he feels are important.

Ne as a role (3rd) function (SLE and SEE)

The individual is uncertain of other people’s motives, intentions, and abilities and prefers to give them clear commands and assignments and judge their intentions and potential by whether or not they fulfill these demands.

He tends to openly express mistrust and skepticism towards all unexpected or novel behavior and developments, as well as towards information about things that he or she has not experienced directly. This mistrustful attitude usually goes away after the person has the chance to deal with the new thing, event, or behavior directly for a period of time and get used to it. He is able to orient himself quickly when he is in direct contact with events, things, or behavior, but when he is told about them far in advance or simply in the form of “random information that may come in handy some day,” he usually doesn’t know how to react to this information.

The individual prefers to know what awaits him in specific areas in the near future rather than what awaits him “in general” and in areas that don’t affect his central interests.

The person is particularly aggravated when people are late for unclear reasons and behave in other independent and unpredictable ways. This gives them the feeling of hanging in the air and general uncertainty about the future. Being action oriented people, this is difficult to bear.

Ne as a vulnerable (4th) function (LSI and ESI)

The individual is highly skeptical about ideas and opportunities that appear not to lead anywhere specific, and seeks assurance that new innovations will definitely bring material benefits. He prefers the kind of ideas and innovations that offer solutions to existing problems rather than the kind that have uncertain consequences and are likely to bring upheaval and unnecessary change.

The individual may tend to forcefully restrict other people’s activities in areas he thinks they have no natural talent in. At the same time, he or she is prone to make errors when judging whether or not a person is capable of doing something.

The individual generally does not try hard to understand multiple viewpoints, but concentrates on developing only his own. He is not very good at intriguing others with his ideas, even when they have significant merit.

The individual dislikes it when people evaluate others’ potential to engage in activities or develop skills in which they haven’t had experience yet; above all he is uncomfortable with such discussions by other people regarding himself. He is inclined to be either over-skeptical of his own potential or going to the other extreme and overestimate his possibilities in specific areas on occasion.

Ne as a suggestive (5th) function (SEI and SLI)

The individual has great respect and admiration for people who are always pursuing something new and different and are not tied down to material things. He easily becomes attached to people who believe in his potential and praise him for his unique skills.

He rarely emphasizes his talents, unique experience, or singularity publicly, but prefers to seem like “your average guy” so that others can relate to him easily. However, he is more open about his unique attributes in close personal relationships. He is sensitive about his talents and uniqueness because so often uniqueness creates distance between people rather than closeness. He dreams of having his uniqueness recognized, welcomed, and fostered by a close group, but “just in case” avoids emphasizing his uniqueness and talents in new or large group situations.

Since he finds it difficult to identify what unique talents he has, this often results in a tendency to avoid setting long-term career goals.

Ne as a mobilizing (6th) function (ESE and LSE)

The individual deeply appreciates people who are full of ideas and imagination and who give them a sense of connectedness to what is happening “out there in the world,” even if this information cannot be applied practically at the present moment. He is even more grateful for people who provide insightful ideas and unconventional analysis to enhance what he is working on or going through at the present moment.

Ne as an ignoring (7th) function (IEI and ILI)

The individual understands “external” connections made between different areas of knowledge and experience, but prefers to focus instead on “hidden” connections that have a special significance and help understand the mysterious, hidden nature of things. He is able to readily grasp the intrinsic potential of a given thing or situation, but prefers to restrict indulging such assessments in the face of understanding the latent processes underpinning said things.

Ne as a demonstrative (8th) function (EIE and LIE)

The individual is fairly good at generating all sorts of ideas, but doesn’t himself take the ideas seriously and views the activity as a sort of entertaining exercise lacking in value. It is more natural for him to apply his imagination and vision specifically to those areas where he is trying to achieve something than to “indulge” in thinking about things that have no relation to those areas of interest.

Source: Wikisocion

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

The Monologue of Marcellus Drayton, the High Architect. This is lore that details a key point in history for my world, Tenebraethia.

Marcellus stands before a massive, arcane machine humming with otherworldly energy in his secret underground lab. Shadows flicker across his face as he gazes at the machine with a mix of determination and righteous fury.

"People of Tenebraethia, you call me a villain, but it is I who will save you. For too long, you have languished in a world of chaos and suffering, clinging to a fragile balance that teeters on the edge of collapse. Your precious Five Sisters, with all their divine power, have failed you. They revel in their ethereal realms, untouched by the pain and strife that plague our lands. They speak of harmony and balance, but what have they truly done for you?

I was once like you, a mere mortal, a scientist seeking knowledge in the shadows of their so-called divinity. But knowledge alone was not enough. I delved into ancient texts, performed forbidden rituals, and harnessed powers beyond mortal comprehension. And what did I find? The truth. The truth that this world needs a firm hand to guide it, to reshape it into a utopia where order reigns supreme.

I am not destroying Tenebraethia; I am remaking it. Every ripple, every change I enact is a step towards perfection. You see the buildings twist and the ground shudder, and you call it destruction. I call it progress. The weak foundations of your past must be torn down to build something stronger, something enduring. A world where hunger, disease, and war are mere whispers of a forgotten past.

You speak of freedom, of the right to choose your path. But what freedom do you truly have in a world dictated by the whims of capricious deities? What choice do you have when your lives are but pawns in their celestial game? I offer you true freedom. The freedom from fear, from want, from the unpredictable chaos of existence. Under my rule, you will know your place, your purpose. And in that purpose, you will find peace.

My puppet leaders, my rewritten history—these are not acts of tyranny but of necessity. The old ways, the old heroes, they were flawed. Their time has passed. In my new order, there is no place for the weak, the uncertain. Only the strong, the capable, the enlightened will thrive. And I will lead you, as your High Architect, into an age of unparalleled prosperity.

You may resist, you may fight, but know this: your resistance is futile. For I hold the power of creation and destruction in my hands. Every act of defiance only strengthens my resolve, fuels my determination to bring about the change this world so desperately needs. In time, you will come to see the wisdom of my ways. You will understand that everything I do, I do for you.

So, call me a villain if you must. Paint me as the dark force that threatens your existence. But remember, it is always darkest before the dawn. And I am the dawn. I am the light that will banish the shadows of your ignorance, the hand that will guide you to a new, glorious future. Embrace the change, Tenebraethia. Embrace your destiny."

Marcellus steps forward, activating the machine with a flick of his wrist, and reality begins to ripple and shift around him. His eyes gleam with the manic light of one who believes wholly in his own righteousness.

[sunflowercider]

speaking of the white cavalry i know sir blanc said he'll give his loyalty to lloyd in a roundabout way but lloyd said to be careful with his words during the dead matsodons attack...

which brings me who do you think they sided with during the fourth ending spoiler where the queen waged war when she bace a bit crazy/paranoid

DELICIOUS ASK ANON, SO FUCKING DELICIOUS.

Damn. Damn. If I wanted to waste a few hours or days, I would sketch out entirely what I think happened politically and geographically in the fourth spoiler. While that future ends incredibly horribly, the lead up to it? Im so sorry, destiny writes some good stories (´-ω-`)

Anyways. Specifically about the white cavalry. After the dead mastadons attack kills 6 of the cavalry, Lloyd feels terrible. He feels it's only right to treat their remains with incredible care and respect, send a letter to the queen telling their tales as flowery as possible to help their loved ones get cared for in their absence, and build a memorial stone for them. Lloyd takes their lives (and the loss of them) gravely seriously. And Sir Blanc is moved nearly to tears.

This is a man who has been quite literally treated like a chess piece in others' wars. And here's some random noble who simply had an unpredictable skirmish with monsters, not even a proper battle, and treats their lives like precious gold. Sir Blanc, in his heart, wants to follow Lloyd (and I imagine the others in his group feel the same).

Lloyd may have roundaboutly turned him down but. The cavalry is still here you know.

When the queen loses her mind, there's first a civil war between those who support and those who oppose her. The Fronteras technically pick the side supporting her, but remain neutral otherwise. This is the most uncertain part for the cavalry. They could get called by the queen during this time, but my hunch is that the Fronteras' status quo is kept, as they are still technically an area of growth for the Cremona region, as well as a stronghold with the apartment fortresses. Leaving the cavalry with the County would make sense; theyre an important military group, but only a part of the queens forces. However, if the cavalry gets called at that moment, they will follow her. They are still loyal to the queen, they just also want to follow Lloyd... and hey, he's technically supporting her.

Now. If the cavalry stay at the Fronteras until the queen makes the error of attacking a peaceful foreign country and Lloyd opposes the decision? Oh ho hoooo thats a whole different ballgame.

The first civil war actually ended before that. Once the queen wins that, she attacks the Benetto Kingdom as a way to consolidate her nobles. (You know, similar to what the Sultan wanted to do?) Lloyd opposes when he hears - he built the route to Benetto for trade, not military. Then the next civil war begins.

HOW does the White Cavalry respond here?? What a pickle, what a pickle. There's no more pretending the queen and Lloyd stand aligned. There's a choice to be made. They're originally loyal to the queen but... she recently killed many nobles (and their armies) for reasons that were never justified properly, and then attacked and took control of a peaceful kingdom. You know, the cavalry helped build the mountain pass too. They have some pride.

In the face of all this, despite the fierce loyalty of a knight to their ruler... I think the White Cavalry would have to cave and join the Fronteras. I think they'd have a fierce internal fight about it, and they wouldn't be very happy about the choice either way. But Lloyd has shown his good nature many times over, while the queen has failed spectacularly. They know who is right.

But even if the White Cavalry did join the queen again due to knightly loyalty reasons, i think they would take the scenic route home. After all. Lloyd won the fight within 10 days. They can afford an unusually long walk back to the capital.

[knightfeared]

` 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨…?

( … ) Stress born from all the fresh-garnered pressure mounting high,  like a cresting storm looming off in the distance,  one headed right for them at speeds far too unpredictable…   All they could truly do was brace,  adapt with whatever came next in wake of it all.  As soon as she’d received the finer details in their reports,  after those involved on the main scene were taken care of,  checked over   —   she is all too thankful things had gone,  despite the destruction,  the dangers experienced   —   quite as well.

With the destructive nature of the described blast,  the force    &&.    distance it’d spread   —   should anyone have been in the wrong place or done a single thing that bit differently,  they could have ended far poorer.

Counting blessings where there was hardly much of a silver lining in sight was a learned skill,  especially when facing that prior spotted approaching storm.  The Council would not be pleased   —   the threadbare alliance formed between her    &&.    Vander was doomed to fail.  Blood would be demanded across that Bridge again,  someone to pay for the crime of endangering the public,  of those Topside.

She swallows thickly,  expression kept steely,  emotionless as she herds the boy down the hall into his assigned cell for holding.  At least until they could get a proper Trial set up.  Her darkened brows knit together,  lips pressing tight as she studies the scholar,  curiosity leading her to wonder just what led this man to delve into such a research project…   Despite knowing the City’s beliefs,  the history of why Piltover was even founded    —   what she finds all the more confuses her.

He’s young,  bright but horribly naive in the hope he presents as he pleads his case during the transfer,  but when she finally does snap,  a possibly too sharp bite meant to end the conversation,  to step back to close the door shut firm,  @petrokhelidon asks another question,  tone teetering between in a confusing mix of upset,  fearful    &&.   determined despite the wavering.  He asks what’ll happen to his research,  to him.  As of right now,  she is uncertain.

Telling him as such,  gloved hand still resting on the door,  the Enforcer turns her face away,  peering down the darkened hall to watch the lights at the end.  She hears Talis’ attempt at demanding answers,  hears the bite lacing the tone in a way that does make her duck her head in a sigh.  She can’t help but think of Caitlyn,  how she’d respond to the news   —   she knows they were close.

Turning to cast the young man a stern look,  a deepened frown,  lips sharply tugged down in a frustrated but no less sympathetic stare,  she answers.

❝ It’s nothing but the truth — what reason would I have to lie to you? I don’t know what the future holds for you   &&.   your work.  But what I do know is that the consequences of your unsanctioned research will have severe consequences.  Grave ones. Whatever it is you thought you were achieving... ❞

` ⟢ 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫 . ↳ i’ve come too far for more lies. / jayce to grayson