#this one i just wanted to see if i could write a story without a love plot or a main couple

[bitterchocoo]

Hello ! Can I ask Savanaclaw with a first year student (platonic) that is like LingYang from Wuthering waves pls ? Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!!

Have a good day !

Another Lion?

Savanaclaw | M. Reader as Lingyang [Wuthering Waves] (Platonic)

----------

"It's like a mini you!"

----------

The day [Name] arrived at Savanaclaw is the day where Leona get's another headache. Such an energetic guy.. honestly where did he got all that energy from? It's annoying. Like a child who's still learning the world around him, believing how being kind and sincere is a good thing. Meanwhile Jack and Ruggie is incredibly happy. [Name] is just such a nice guy, always willing to help, it's a nice change from how many rotten eggs are in Savanaclaw, believing that they're the "strongest."

It's even more interesting how [Name] appears to also be a lion like Leona but turned out way different. Ruggie would always joke how [Name] is the version of Leona if he was kinder. Which earned him quite the death glare. When [Name] offered a private lion dance performance. Boy is it a sight. Watching someone showing their culture and traditions are always a nice experience and seeing him go from pillar to pillar with such swift motions is quite mesmerizing. [Name] is more than happy to teach them lion dancing if they asked.

With how swift he is, [Name] instantly made his way on to the Magical Shift/Spelldrive team in Savanclaw. He's just so agile, perhaps being a lion dancer makes him quite nimble.

Leona still finds him annoying though but after some interactions, [Name] makes a wonderful sleeping buddy. How? Well somehow he always without fail found the nicest and seclusive spots for naps. [Name]'s senses are surprisingly sharper than his, which throw Leona off the loop for a moment, and just like that [Name] had officially become Savanclaw's younger brother, who ever dare lay a single finger on him will answer to the Housewarden.

Ruggie and [Name] bonded like brothers, playing pranks here and there, enjoying life. Jack is like the more responsible older brother. Ready to help, and tries to get the two of them out of trouble, he may seem mean, but he's a big softie.

----------

Spoilers to those who haven't done Lingyang's companion quest

----------

Leona, Ruggie, Jack, and [Name] were at the Savanaclaw's dorm, Leona is napping like always, while Ruggie and Jack told stories of from their hometown as [Name] listens eagerly, happy to learn new things. "Oh? So it's like a folklore? Jinzhou also had one. It's called the Jingle Beast." [Name] says casually, looking out at the horizon with a faint smile, remembering it well how people use to fear such a "beast."

"They say that there's a beast somewhere out there and that when it hunts, you could hear the sound of a bell jingle. It's as simple as that really." He explains casually with a chuckle in the end. Such a silly rumor.

"Kishishishi! Really now? A Jingle Beast?" Ruggie can't help but laugh at such an interesting folklore. "Some say it's just a Suan'ni. A mystical creature that has amazing abilities. Some were skeptical though, since Suan'ni's are practically extinct now." [Name] added, looking down at the ground where they sat. This caught their attention, even Leona as he opens one eye and glance over to the three of them.

Ruggie thought about it for a moment before nodding in response, his face became more serious. "I don’t blame them. In ancient times, the world used to be a very brutal world. Suan‘nies were hunted and killed by humans for their own profit and desires. It was cruel and not fair."

[Name] remain silent for a moment, thinking back on those times. "In my own option…" He began slowly.

"The last Suan'ni might have yearn to become a human… it yanked out all of its fur, filled down its claws, twisted its bones, and learn how to stand upright." [Name] explains in a soft and melancholy tone, his gaze never leaving the ground, his ears occasionally twitched as he says those words.

"Anyway…" He paused, adding with hesitant in his voice. "It.. never really became a human in the end.."

Pure silence. Nothing but pure silence follows after that.

Ruggie and Jack look at [Name] with widened eyes, heck, even Leona had gotten up, sitting upright and looking at the other with a dumbfounded expression. They immediately picked up on what the other is implying.

Of course the Suan'ni never became a human in the end... because at the end of the day.. it is still a Suan'ni.

Through out the centuries... animals evolved and that's how they could now stand on two feet, talk, and etc etc.

But what about those who are older? Before such evolution could even be achieve? Suppose...

[Name] had answer that question.

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Devotion

Final part of the craving you series

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary-your living in Wandas house, she pays your wage and the bills, she takes care of you.. would it be so bad to step back and only be hers

Warnings- manipulation, dark! Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, potential Stockholm syndrome?, not proofread!!, snappy Wanda, coercion,

Wordcount - 1.3k

A/n- obviously this is the last chapter for the craving you story :( I rlly enjoyed writing smthng different for once and again I'm srry it took so long to get out :(( !! The main story is over but I will write drabbles or headcannons if anyone's interested <3

Wanda was finally at peace. A blissful weight off her shoulders she hadn't felt in months since meeting you. For the first time in what felt like her years she could sleep the whole night through without worrying about you, your whereabouts or who you could be with. This new found bliss was all because her plan to isolate and make you hers was finally falling into place like pieces of a puzzle, a satisfying finish. She had you in watching distance 24/7 and when she didn't, she wasn't more than twenty feet away. You slept with her, the guest rooms which had been under 'renovations' since you arrived in her home had to be completely redone again after she told you they found plenty of black mold inside them, just one of the many ways she'd managed to keep you close without making you suspicious. She'd even gone as far as to cut wires in your car so you'd both have to go in her car to work, she just wanted you safe after all.

After about a week at Wanda's your cats had somehow re appeared aswell, unscathed and well fed. You'd been heading out to her car for work when you'd seen the two lay together next to a hedge, Nixie protectively infront of Milo in a motherly sort of way. Obviously you were ecstatic and swept the two up quickly to show Wanda who did her best to look surprised at the re appearing cats.

"Wow.. how could they ever end up here?.." She knew you were stupid naive enough to fall for what she said even when she barely hid the truth from you. In actual fact the cats had been in the room next to you all this time you'd just never thought to question what could lie behind the other doors in Wanda's house.

To be honest you never really questioned her, not anymore atleast. It felt wrong to not do as she asked when she was letting you and your two cats stay rent free with her. I mean she was such a good person almost angelic in your view these days. You could barely remember the time where she'd had you on your knees begging for your job, all you could think off was the warmth, safety and comfort she provided to you without repayment.

Wanda had planned for this to happen. That by being around her so much you would begin to feel like you owed her, as if she saved your life. Which she did but she was also the reason it had needed saving to begin with. Oh, if it wasn't for her you'd still be living your lonely mundane life all alone. She took great pleasure in watching the change in your behaviour to her. From fear to adoration. The way you began to need her almost crave her presence in a way she had craved you. She saw the glint in your eye when it was time for bed and you knew you'd get to lie next to her the whole night. She saw the way you waited on her every need like a puppy trying to please its owner.

Though this was a good progress to making you hers. Her personal doll. It wasn't quite enough for Wanda. She wanted more. She wanted to make you see there was no point to work when you had no bills to pay. Get you to stop searching for a new place to stay and stop your income therefore making you further dependent and indebted to her. She wanted you to be a good little stay at home who waited by at the door for her and hated being separate from her. She needed you to become this. She also knew no job meant you wouldn't have any excuses to be out without her eyes on you at all time. It meant you couldn't find someone else to replace her. She should be the only person in your life.

She brought it up during dinner one night just to see how you'd react to such an idea.

"So darling, I've been thinking and wouldn't it be much less stressful for you if you didn't work? I mean its not like you have bills to pay." She played around with the steak on her plate aimlessly pushing it around as she asked you.

"Well.." You gulped unsure what to say. To not work is a dream really but you need money to find a new place and eventually pay back Wanda's kindness. "That sounds really nice but without a job I'd be under your feet forever." You miss the look of excitement which crosses her face at that prospect. If you next to her. Forever. "And I'd never be able to pay you back for your generosity."

Wanda's eye twitched ever so slightly at your response. Of course someone as sweet as you would unintentionally set her off course by wanting to be helpful. It was so cute that she was hardly bad but it had made it hard for her to make any further argument.

"You don't have to pay me back sweetheart. And property is much too expensive for someone like you right now. I mean I just want what's best for you after all." Her hand finds place over yours and gently rubs over your soft and delicate skin.

What she'd said had made your head hurt and all your thoughts go mushy in your brain. She just wanted what was best for you and obviously someone like Wanda knew a lot about what would be right. So maybe she was.. maybe her idea would be helpful for you.

"Uh.. I.. I mean I just don't want to be so... useless." As you uttered those words Wanda felt as though her heart could shatter. You were not useless. Especially not to her. You were her reason to breath. Her sigh of relief. Hers. Her saviour.

"Don't talk about yourself like that." Her voice snappy in a way which made you feel small under her hardening gaze which threatened your every move.

"I'm.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."

"I know you didn't. Don't apologise, just eat and stop troubling your little mind."

Dinner was fairly silent after that and so was the rest of the evening. You curled up in a chair near the fireplace and Wanda tapping away on her computer almost purposely avoiding looking at you. For you the opposite, you felt you couldn't look away from her beauty wanting to admire her. The pair of reading glasses perched on her nose that kept sliding off and her hair, oh her hair, the way she kept waving her hands through it everytime something annoyed her was so satisfying and hot?...

Night soon fell and you climbed into bed next to Wanda. An enjoyable time for the both of you and yet another moment where Wanda held all the control. Every night just as you fell asleep she made sure to turn down the thermostat so you'd have no choice but to curl into her body and snuggle into the heat that radiated off her. She was particularly fond of when you fell into a deep sleep, when she got to plant soft kisses against you and perhaps more? When she got to see you up close as peaceful as ever. When she'd whisper concerning sweet things into your ears without you even moving an inch.

"Your mine, aren't you sweet girl? Yeah that's it dont even question what I'm saying."

Tonight felt different to you, as you chambered into the left side of Wanda's four poster King sized bed you thought to yourself about what she'd said at dinner. Would it really be so bad to quit your job? Would it be so bad just to stay here with her and the cats? I mean her mansion did have everything you'd ever need so you could hardly even imagine becoming bored. And.. I mean Wanda suggested it so she mustn't mind the idea.. Hmmm she's probably right. She has been so far.

Taglist: @stayevildarling @reginassweetheart @alexawynters @your-my-mission @witchmaximoff @imjustvibingsworld

[sorcerersandskillusers]

Fyodor and the Devil: Analysis of Fyodor's motives and role in the narrative

Asagiri has stated that he based Fyodor not on Dostoyevsky the author but on a specific scene from one of his books The Brothers Karamazov where Ivan Karamazov confronts “the devil” in his room.

(It's a really good book, you should read it if you have time. Also. fun fact, Fyodor and the devil wear the same hat, “His soft fluffy white hat was out of keeping with the season.”)

Having read the book and gone over this scene, I realized that this could be used to find out a lot more about Fyodor as a character than we see in the story, including a potential glimpse at his real motivations.

A bit of context for the scene. Ivan Kramazov is a clever but deeply trouble man who has struggling with the concept of God and rationalising him with the cruelty of humanity, at one point while very sick, Ivan starts seeing a man in his room who claims to be “the devil”. Their conversation is a fascinating look at morality and why evil exists in the world, and if you look at it closely it reveals a lot about the role of a “villain” in a story.

This line from “the devil” is really interesting to me, and seems to explain a lot about Fyodor’s character, as well as align perfectly with how Asagiri has described Fyodor in interviews:

Before time was, by some decree which I could never make out, I

was predestined 'to deny' and yet I am genuinely good-hearted and not at all inclined to negation.

'No, you must go and deny, without denial there's no criticism and what would a journal be without a column of criticism?' 

Without criticism it would be nothing but one 'hosannah.' But nothing but hosannah is not enough for life, the hosannah must be tried in the crucible of doubt and so on, in the same style. But I don't meddle in that, I didn't  create it, I am not answerable for it. Well, they've chosen their scapegoat, they've made me write the column of criticism and so life was made possible.

Basically the devil is saying that he was created because without evil then good means nothing, if everything was perfect then nothing would happen or change, life couldn’t exist, so he was forced to be that evil even though he never wanted to be.

This is so similar to how Fyodor is described in the BSD exposition 2020:

Fyodor is the antagonist, he is the villain of the story, that is the role he plays. This explains why he chooses to commit so many atrocities in the name of  “following God's plan”. It even connects to his line in The Dead Apple, and his ability name. He is both crime and punishment, as “crime” or sin originates with the devil, but it's also the devil who punishes sinners.

(I mean the title of the episode he is introduced in is literally “My Ill Deeds Are the Work of God” by committing evil acts he is fulfilling God's purpose for him.)

And if Fyodor is really based on “the devil” it's very likely he also either does or used to wish for release from this role that was assigned to him, but he knows that he cannot stray from his path or the story will cease to exist. My evidence for Fyodor wanting to be free of his mission is just one interaction, when he kills Karma.

Look at Fyodor's expression here, this is the only time in the entire series where we see him look truly sad. This isn't an act, there is no one there for him to trick, he simply says a quiet prayer for the life of a boy who's only purpose was to suffer and die.

This next part of “the devils” speech actually seems to fit very well for Dazai, it's interesting since he is the narrative foil to Fyodor and clearly is a very similar character.

We understand that comedy; I, for instance, simply ask for annihilation. No, live, I am told, for there'd be nothing without you.

If everything in the universe were sensible, nothing would happen. There would be no events without you, and there must be events. So against the grain I serve to produce events and do what's irrational because I am commanded to.

For all their indisputable intelligence,men take this farce as something serious, and that is their tragedy. They suffer, of course... but then they live, they live a real life, not a fantastic one, for suffering is life. Without suffering what would be the pleasure of it? It would be transformed into an endless church service; it would be holy, but tedious. But what about me? I suffer, but still, I don't live. I am x in an indeterminate equation. I am a sort of phantom in life who has lost all beginning and end, and who has even forgotten his own name. 

This ties perfectly into Dazai and Fyodor’s debate on the nature of God in the sky casino arc.

Dazai here points out that it's not perfection and harmony that make the world move, it's the irrational, it's the foolishness and stupidity of humans who charges into life making a million mistakes but always finding ways to fight on through it. Here Dazai and Fyodor represent the conflicting sides of “the devil” with Fyodor embodying his mission to drive the world and Dazai embodying his secret love for, and wish to join, humanity.

“I love men genuinely, I've been greatly calumniated! Here when I stay withyou from time to time, my life gains a kind of reality and that's what I like most of all. Yousee, like you, I suffer from the fantastic and so I love the realism of earth. Here, with you, everything is circumscribed, here all is formulated and geometrical, while we have nothing but indeterminate equations! I wander about here dreaming. I like dreaming. Besides, on earth I become superstitious. Please don't laugh, that's just what I like, to become superstitious. I adopt all your habits here: I've grown fond of going to the public baths, would you believe it?

And I go and steam myself with merchants and priests. What I dream of is becoming incarnate once for all and irrevocably in the form of some merchant's wife weighing eighteen stone, and of believing all she believes. My ideal is to go to church and offer a candle in simple-hearted faith, upon my word it is. Then there would be an end to my sufferings.”

“"Why not, if I sometimes put on fleshly form? I put on fleshly form and I take the consequences. Satan sum et nihil humanum a me alienum puto."*

* I am Satan, and deem nothing human alien to me.”

This piece from the devil feels like it could be a description of Dazai’s character, his wish above all else to find happiness and love as a human despite believing he is a demon. Both Dazai and Fyodor have strong ties to the Devil, both of them are often described as demonic or inhuman, with emphasis placed on the darkness of their souls and the isolation they feel due to their minds.

But the difference between them is how they dealt with it, Fyodor chose to embrace it and fully commit to his role in the story as the ultimate evil for the greater good, but Dazai has always shown a fasciation with humans and has spent his life trying to connect to them and find meaning in his existence.

Finally, let's look at what we can learn about Fyodor’s motivation. Fyodor is the villain, he is the final obstacle the protagonist has to overcome, he is the driving force behind so much of Atsushi’s life and the reason so much of the series has played out at all. He sent Shibusawa to torture Atsushi as a child, he was an informant to the guild who put the bounty on Atsushi making the mafia turn on him, he was involved in the guild invasion, and obviously he was the master mind behind cannibalism and Decay of Angles.

If he is aware of his position as the antagonist, then he also is probably aware Atsushi is the protagonist, he knew he was the “envy of all ability users” after all, so he knows Atsushi has some significance to the world as a whole.

Atsushi is also the “guide to the book” which is seemingly Fyodor’s end goal, so even though Fyodor doesn’t seem to be focused on Atsushi, he has been indirectly influencing his whole journey up to this point. This also explains why Fyodor is only moving actively now, because the protagonist has appeared and his role as the villain can finally be fulfilled and he, like “the devil” can finally get the “annihilation” he asked for. Hence, Fyodor’s true goal is to erase himself from the narrative.

There is actually quite a lot of evidence for this. The obvious part is that Fyodor wants to rid the world of ability users while he himself is an ability user, he cannot exist in his perfect world. 

Then there’s the fact that in the Dead Apple, Fyodor calls himself “crime” if Fyodor is “crime” or “sin” then a world free of sin would not contain him at all

Even when Fyodor talks about sin, he says how humans are easily manipulated into killing each other, while he constantly manipulates characters into killing each other, he is the cause of the sin he fights.

A really strong bit of evidence is this interview with Asagiri and Harukawa

Not only does Asagiri reiterate Fyodors role as the person who moves the story, Harukawa specifically mentions that Fyodor might be trying to create a world without ability users because he thought it was a “bad thing to do” aka the action a villain would take that would lead to a hero stopping them.

“Dos-san is the biggest villain in the story so far, but I have continued to draw him with spaced out eyes that are neither righteous nor evil for a long time. The only time I drew his eyes completely white was when he said he would create a world without skill users. It was because, in reality, we would decide what is evil or not by our own scales, but I wasn't sure if he himself was doing it because he thought that was a bad thing to do.”

This also connects to how Fyodor was able to understand Gogol when no one else could, Gogol is chooses to fight against the way the world is to prove to himself that he truly is free. Fyodor, who is bound to play a part in a narrative, would understand that feeling and that longing to be truly free.

To be clear, I don’t think that Fyodor is really a good person whose just been trapped in an awful position against his will, we see many times that Fyodor revels in his cruelty and enjoys killing and torturing others. Its the same with “the devil” in the book, although he hates the job he was given, he tells Ivan stories of the people he’s corrupted and seems very proud of himself for it.

My personal interpretation is that the sadistic zelot personality Fyodor displays is a mixture of a mask and a coping mechanism, kind of similar to Yosano developing a sadistic side to help her deal with the guilt of half killing people in order to heal them. I think it makes sense that after centuries of cruelty and manipulation a person would become detached and stop really caring about the lives he destroys.

This analysis is partially unfinshed but I wanted to post it now and see what other people think of it.

[fairyblossomsav]

when would be that right time? ; K.M

¡! pairing: kate martin x fem!reader

¡! summary: the team gives kate some encouragement to talk about her feelings.

¡! warnings: none

ps: this is my first time writing here, english is not my first language so be nice on me :(

be free if you wanna request a story just send it to me and i will work on that as soon as i can ! :)

✵ :･ﾟ✧ :･ﾟ✵ *:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✵ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

You and Kate have been friends since their third year and your first year of college, they met thanks to gabbie, since you’re classmates and one random night of drinks you and kate really connected.

Your friendship has always been beautiful, Kate is a girl who takes care of and looks after her friends at all times, and you could never say no to the blue eye. During all those years you never had any feelings for Martin, until a trip they took to the beach.

You were in the sand taking the sun, until you feel someone sitting next to you, you raise your sunglasses and see Kate in her green bathing suit, smiling at you. "I got you this” She extended her hand and opened it, showing sea shells, which she had collected just for you. You make a pout looking at it, and taking the sea shells very carefully, and storing them in your bag.

“Thank you sweetheart” You laugh and start hugging her making you fall into the sand, Kate laughs and holds you tight.

While the two of them were already in the sand, none of you intended to separate themselves from that hug and so you stayed for the rest of what was left of tanning time and finally got up to be in the sea with the girls.

Recently on your birthday, Kate waited all night until you returned to your apartment to give you her gift. She took a small box out of her pocket, and opened it, showing a necklace with Kate’s initials engraved in gold.

KM.

“You have to be joking with me right know” you say with one hand covering your mouth.

“Don’t you like it?” Her worried face quickly became noticeable.

“Of course not, Kate! This is incredible” You say jumping for joy and jump into her arms to surround her body with your arms.

The clock rung, warning that it was midnight. “Happy birthday beautiful” She put a warm kiss on your forehead while she kept hugging you.

When she separated she helped you put on the necklace, and you happily invited her to spend the night, it was late and you didn’t want Kate to be driving late, it was one of the excuses you said to yourself not to accept that you really wanted to spend a night with her.

Finally, now you find yourself getting out of your bed at ten in the morning on a Saturday, you leave your room and find Kate in the kitchen cooking a delicious breakfast for both of you. It’s been 4 months since you unconsciously live together in your house.

The first times that Kate spent a few days at your house she brought a backpack with clothes and shoes according to the days she would stay, until a day you opened your closet and half of it was full of Kate’s clothes and shoes. It didn’t bother you, on the contrary, you wanted her to be with you, not in that way, without any commitment, but you hope that one day Kate will tell you if she feels the same as you.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty” she said, putting the breakfast on plates and leaving them at the table. “I made you breakfast” she gave you a smile.

You smiled back at her and took a fork to sit down and start eating the two together.

“Today is the night with the girls, it’s ok if I bring them here” Kate ask. Every end of the month, the girls of the iowa basketball team have a girls night in at the house of the person who has to be a hostess. This time it was Kate’s turn.

“Kate you don’t need to tell me, is your house too” you say.

“I feel like I should always ask you” She took her phone and started writing to invite the girls.

Kate Martin

📍*adress*

i’ll see you guys at eight 🤠

Jada Gyamfi

ok y/n’s house

caitlin clark

y/n house ???

“What time is it?” When you finished eating, you took what they had used to the dishwasher.

“I told them that at 8” She said, looking at you with her blue eyes.

“Maybe I’ll arrive at about 8:30.” You would meet with some girls from your class to finish a class project, you would leave the house around 6:30 and you would be a little late for Kate’s meeting. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, no problem, I will go to buy some snacks, do you want to come?” You said yes happily, you went to your shared room, oh yea, because the two of you sleep in the same room, in the house there is one more room, but both have no interest in sleeping separately.

You took turns to shower, first it was Kate since you would decide what to use for the day, so she took a shower first, when she left the bathroom she came out changed with her typical iowa set of nike. When you got out of the shower you also got dressed, and you went to buy the snacks they will give at the girls’ meeting for tonight.

Kate was arranging everything while you picked up the things you would take to the library, you said goodbye to Kate and left the house.

The doorbell rang, someone had arrived, Kate left the potato plates on the living room table and went to open the door.

“Hey K,” Jada and Gabbie arrived, they entered the house since the blonde stepped aside so they could do it.

“Caitlin and Kylie are on their way,” Gabbie said, sitting on the couch. “While, Kate, what the hell is going on with you two.

“Hi losers,” Caitlin opened the front door, had arrived next to Kylie while they had a pizza in their hands.

“I brought donuts,” Hannah said, opening the box of donuts.

“What are they talking about?” Sydney closed the door, indicating that no one was missing.

“Kate and Y/N,” Jada said, taking a slice of pizza.

“Oh yes, you two definitely fuck,” Hannah looked at Kate with a mocking smile.

“Girls,” the blonde’s face turned red, she laughed nervously, “Y/N and I don’t have anything, I promise.

All the girls looked at Martin believing nothing she just had said. “Kate you literally have a necklace on with her initials, what do you mean” Caitlin laughed touching the necklace.

The blue eye remained silent, and it was definitely even redder. “Well, maybe there’s a possibility that I like Y/n,” she hid her face in her hands.

“We all knew it,” Sydney slapped him on the back.

And what will you do? It’s obvious that she likes you too, because another reason would let you move in with her and sleep in her same bed—Gabbie said eating a donut.

“I don’t know, we haven’t talked about this.

“You should do it, it’s obvious that the two of you are in love with each other , it’s miserable to see,” Caitlin laughed.

“Hello girls,” you opened the door and they all greeted you, you left your backpack in your room and went back with them to the living room.

“Pretty necklace y/n/n” Kylie told you since you sat next to her.

“Ow, thank you, Kate gave it to me,” you replied blushing. All the girls on the basketball team looked at each other laughing.

They had a good time full of laughter and games while all ate from the different meals they brought, the night passed quickly until 11 arrived, all of them were already gone, and it was only Kate and you throwing garbage and storing the food in left over.

Kate’s head was spinning a lot, she didn’t know if it was the right time to talk about her feelings. But when would be that right time?

“Can we talk?” the blue eye asked.

”yea.” you gave her all the attention in the world, when she spoke to you, you stopped doing everything you were doing just to listen to her. And this was no exception.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, without sounding so strange and I’m sorry for keeping this for so long but, I like you, very, too much, in the sense that I would like to be your girlfriend.” Martin was nervous about your answer.

You were paralyzed, is this a dream? You thought, this is real, Kate is confessing her feelings to you, now, right now in the kitchen. You just couldn’t find the right words and the only move you made was to approach her and join her lips in a kiss. A dream come true for both of you, the two of you wanted that so much, to feel close, yes, you slept together but not that kind of approach, but one where they will connect all your feelings and energy.

Finally you separated, a smile drew on your face, as well in Kate’s. “I really wanted to this all this time” you said looking at the tall blonde girl that you were in love with since you met.

“Me too” Martin said, she kept her hand on your waist, she wouldn’t let you go now, you were hers now. “I don’t like the idea of asking you to be my girlfriend like this, i promise i’ll make better the official. But for now, do you wanna be my girlfriend?” She did it.

“Yes! A hundred times yes” You said happily jumping on her, she hold you and you wrap your legs in her torso. You two join your lips together in a kiss

“I love you” Kate says looking at your eyes.

“I love you too” You press your lips against hers one more time. And then she pulls you down, and walk together to your room. It wasn’t a dream, Kate and you were now a couple. Finally.

✵ :･ﾟ✧ :･ﾟ✵ *:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✵ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

all the love

-sab <3!!

[deepestnightcolor]

Just imagine Elliot ranting to his friend (Reader) how he just can‘t really put the scene from his mind onto paper, the reader of course would love to help him…

turns out the scene was about a beautiful woman masturbating, that lands her on Elliots bed with him telling her how to touch herself (to get it as accurate as possible of course) with him so close to her, watching and analyzing her every movement while he takes notes for his story

(You can add as much to it as you want)

ᴀ/ɴ: Okay, anon, wow. What is your BRAIN! I drooled a little over this, honestly. And I was SO excited to write this. I hope I hit the right spots with this, because hehehe. Had my head go brrrrrr. Thank you so much for your time and attention and your willingness to request! <3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Elliott (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2007 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, masturbation, making out, being watched while masturbating, finger fucking, teasing, pining.

☾ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ☽

Usually, Elliott tried to avoid talking about his writing on Fridays. The reason for that was simple: Fridays were spent with you in the saloon and needed to be honoured.

This Friday was different, though. Something was bothering Elliott, and even though he tried not to show it, he did show it. On accident, of course. A dramatic sigh left his lips, wettened by the beer he was sipping, eyes looking out of the window wistfully. His whole body language screamed “HELP ME OVERCOME THIS WRITING PROBLEM”, and you just weren’t one to let your friends suffer.

“What is it, Elliott?” You asked, leaning your elbows on the table so you could take a closer look at the author. “It’s nothing,” he sighed, voice filled to the brim with drama and expiration. “You sure?” “Yesss, everything is finnnnneeee.” The stretched-out “fine” ended in a drawn-out sigh, hazel eyes looking up at you, just begging for you to ask again. You sipped your own drink, eyebrow cocked at him. “You suuuuuuureeeee?” “I mean, it’s Friday...,” Elliott began, his lips now pushed forward in a cute little pout, “I don’t talk about my writing on Fridays.” “And if I tell you that it really is fine?” “Well…Maybe I would be able to make an exception then,” he murmured, adding a quiver to your lower lip. Oh, Elliott. So cute, so dramatic, lying it on thick for you today.

“Alright, it really is fine for you to tell me about you-“ “There is this scene I am struggling with,” he quickly began, scared you could change your mind faster than he could get his words out, “and I think you would be the perfect aid.” You hummed, licking your lips clean from the stickiness of the alcohol. “Is that so? And what is that scene about?”

The shimmer of mischief in Elliott’s eyes should have worried you, even more so when it was combined with him lowering his voice to a hushed whisper, telling you how he needed to tell you at his shed. It wouldn’t work here, you see, confidential information would be shared with ears that shouldn’t yet hear it. So of course you agreed, following your friend to his home without even a seed of doubt planted in your mind. “You want what?” You asked, disbelief drenching your voice. “I know, I know, it must sound absolutely ridiculous, yet you must consider! I am stuck on this scene, and I could use a beautiful muse like you!” “So, and just to be clear I heard you right, you want me to masturbate in front of you!” Elliott gave you this awkward, pleading grin, head cocked to the side: “Uh…Yes. Though it would be professional, I promise! No words will be shed about this – I just… I just really could use it for my book.” His hands clasped together as if he was silently begging you, and yet again he pulled his face into that cute little pout. “Pretty please…It is one of the last elements of my book and I-“ “Fine.” Surprise flashed over Elliott’s face, and really, you yourself were surprised. Both of you had expected that it would have taken a lot more to convince you, yet who was Elliott to complain? “Great, great! Thank you so, so much, darling! How about you lay down and get comfortable already, and I will just get my pen and paper.” “You will take notes about this?” “Why, yes!” Well, that had answered it, hadn’t it?

You took a deep, shaky breath as you began to take off your top, the little skirt that you had thrown on for the saloon. After a moment of hesitation, you even discarded the bra that had been holding your tits up, allowing them to bounce free. With a glance in Elliott’s direction, you allowed yourself to slowly find a spot on his mattress, but as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were surrounded by his scent. It would have been a complete and utter lie if you had tried to say that this didn’t begin to turn you on; lying almost naked in your friend’s bed, surrounded by his smell. About to be watched by him. Goosebumps arose on your skin, your clit twitching gently at the thought. You had always found Elliott handsome, but he had always seemed to keep his distance; most often hiding himself behind his manuscripts. This…was incredibly raw and open.

The sound of a chair’s legs scratching along the ground caught your attention. Elliot’s flustered face appeared in your field of vision, leading you to blush as well.

“You look…stunning,” he whispered. There was no dramatics in his voice, no exaggeration. Only that sweet, honest compliment. You gave him a smile, biting down on your lower lip. He had taken off his coat by now and rolled up his sleeve; his hair tied back in a top knot. He looked absolutely delicious himself, the way he started to write his notes. Hazel eyes taking you in completely, just to scribble something down on the paper. He had lit up a candle on the nightstand, the flickering flame accenting his sharp features in a way that made you want to drag him onto the bed with you, but instead, you slowly let your fingers slip down your neck, to your breast. The movement caught Elliott’s attention, and you could feel his gaze following the dance of your fingertips. You, on the other hand, shamelessly focused your attention on him. Being watched like this had a thrill to it that you hadn’t expected, but now fucking loved. Your thumb was now caressing your own nipple gently, mind wandering to the thoughts ofhow it would feel if Elliott was the one doing it. The goosebumps that appeared in your skin weren’t solely because of the pleasure you felt from teasing your nipples, but also because you believed Elliott’s hands on you would feel much better.

He scribbled something down again as your hand travelled down further, catching the hem of your panties. You lifted your hips, slowly sliding them off your hips. Your lower lip was bitten as you felt the air brush your cunt, and the throw of your panties towards Elliott definitely wasn’t an accident.

His eyes lingered on your cunt as it was exposed, taking it in with a deep inhale. He wrote something down, then scribbled over it, running a palm through his hair while shifting on his seat. “Oh, yes,” you whispered as your thumb caught your clit, giving the bundle gentle flicks of your thumb. Elliott swallowed thickly, his feather scratching the paper in a newfound frantic. You pressed your feet in the mattress and spread your legs wider, your eyes slipping shut as the gentle waves of pleasure washed over you. You had only just started, but feeling Elliott stare at you like this…Yoba, it made you wet. As if to prove it to him, you allowed a single digit to run through your folds, only to suck it into your mouth. The low groan coming from next to you caught your attention, yet when you looked, Elliott was fixated on the paper, feather just barely able to follow all the words that were supposed to spill out of it.

You slowly allowed your hand to pick up the journey along the curves of your body again, slowly stroking up and down your thighs with quivering fingers. You knew a pair of hazel eyes were following each and every touch, and you easily began to rub your clit again. More warmed up than the first time, you let a moan of pleasure leave your lips, not even opening your eyes when you heard Elliott shift on his chair, his hot breath hitting your skin soon after. “Mhhh,” you cooed, arching your back in a little just for show, dipping a finger into your cunt, your perverted mind wishing it was the author’s dick instead.

The quivering gasp next to you was the first thing that caught your attention. Looking over at the man, you could see that his hand was placed firmly in his lap, eyes wide. “What’s wrong, Elliott? Got a little hard there?” You whispered. Pride that your looks turned him on so much filled you, making you add another finger. The brunet grunted, shifting in his seat again under the pretence of getting more comfortable, but the lustful expression gave him away.

“You just look so luscious,” he breathed, his hand now wrapping around his shaft through his pants with barely an ounce of shame. “So pretty for me,” he added, willing himself to at least pretend to write down some more notes.

You didn’t really care about that, your eyes were now solely focused on his hard dick, just barely hidden behind his hand. Fucking yourself with your fingers, you whimpered his name, causing his attention to snap towards you.

You were close, you could feel the orgasm building up beneath your touch, but you just…you just needed a little more. “Elliott, kiss me? Fuck, please,” you whispered, a high-pitched moan leaving your mouth as you circled your clit again. Elliott’s lips pressed against yours in a captivating kiss; teeth clattering against teeth, tongues battling for dominance. Even though you had just asked him for a kiss, his hands automatically began to roam, finding your clit with ease and replacing your thumb there. Him rubbing patterns into the bundle of nerves while his tongue licked over yours sent shocks of pleasure up your spine, leaving your brain light and empty. In all honesty, Elliott couldn’t hold back anymore. His hips sloppily and greedily humped against your thigh while he rubbed your clit, sucking on your tongue with a tenderness you had expected from him, but also with greed that made your heat throb.

“El- Gonna-“

He didn’t let you finish the sentence, too busy to fill your mouth with his tongue again, his humping growing faster against your leg. The squeal that left you made him moan lowly, rubbing the bundle of nerves despite your orgasm already being torn out of you.

Your free hand reached for Elliott’s hair, tugging the long strands as you moaned, your body spasming at the feeling of your orgasm recking through you. Not even the tug caused Elliott to show any signs of mercy, his thumb steadily kept up its circling, with him only pulling away from the kiss to watch you shiver and squirm beneath his late touch.

“Elliott!” You cried out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his fingers enter your sensitive gushing cunt, the grin on his face almost diabolic. “Are you going to cum a second time, my muse? It would be great for my story,” he whispered to you, working his finger into you while his thumb was still tracing patterns on your clit. His lips peppered gentle kisses upon your chest, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Elliott, can’t, oh, Yoba!” You tried to hold on to his wrist, but his merciless treatment of your slit didn’t even falter. “El! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your body squirmed away and drew closer, like the tides at the beach, but in the end, he still pushed you over the edge. With a quivering cry you released, your hips snapping up to get the author’s finger knuckle deep within you, your legs spreading and snapping close – it was as if your body was malfunctioning.

As your back met the mattress, Elliott’s fingers on you began slowing down. Gentle kisses were casted upon your skin, attempting to calm you down. Your hand was still buried in Elliott’s hair as he came down next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist. In the bliss of two orgasms, you rolled around and slowly snuggled into his side, pressing your face into his chest.

“You know,” you whispered after a while, voice still hoarse, “I think your book really needs a sex scene…And I know just the muses.”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CHAPTER FOUR WAS SO GOOD UGHH literally the only fanfic I have ever loved so much and wait for updates like this. Am so excited for the next one!!!

On the topic of finally opening requests, I was wondering if I could ask for head-canons of what a relationship with Seishiro and a female reader would be like. If we want to be specific, maybe related to the fanfic? Like, how you would imagine their relationship would have been like back when they were still in high school, young and with Nagi’s past soccer career and all. Don’t feel pressured to write this, and good luck with everything!😽😽

── DATING NAGI!

Synopsis: Headcanons about having Seishiro Nagi as your boyfriend.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Nagi x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Content Warnings: none really, just generally fluffy and silly

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON i hope you like where i go w the story in the future!! and hehe now that we’re in the past arc of peregrine you will actually get to see all of the nitty gritty details of their relationship in the fic itself so i won’t spoil it 🤫 but i love nagi ofc so i’ve added some general headcanons on what i think he would be like as a bf

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

no matter how the two of you get together, reo is somehow involved LMAOAOAO like bro is ALWAYS at the scene of the crime in some way shape or form just because i don’t think nagi would really pick up on the fact that he has a crush on you without outside intervention

it would also definitely be a jump scare when he confesses!! you would have zero idea it’s coming because he literally hasn’t changed how he acts towards you whatsoever

canonically he doesn’t really interact with a lot of people or have a lot of friends and he’s not aggressive with romance so i just don’t think he’d really know what the appropriate method of telling someone you like them is

would probably say some shit like “reo says i have a crush on you” and would be so nonchalant about it meanwhile you’re like “???” because you did not even realize he knew your name and also why is reo being brought up

i honestly think he would not be a bad boyfriend. yes he is lazy and unmotivated but he does what he needs to do and if something is important to him he generally puts in effort for it

that’s another reason why it would take him foreverrr to ask you out — he would have to like you enough that he realizes he does in fact want to have a relationship with you even if it is a hassle

he doesn’t have social media though so don’t expect there to be an official announcement that you guys are together or anything like that HAHA

he would probably forget to tell anyone that the two of you are dating and it’s not because he’s ashamed of you or is trying to hide you or anything he literally just does not care what other people think and would prefer not to talk them if possible so it never comes up

you’ll show up to an event with him and everyone’s like “omg nagi who is this” and he’s like “this is my girlfriend” and someone (probably otoya tbh) is like “since when have you had a girlfriend” and he’s like “it’s been two years 😐”

i think he would be fire at insulting people just because of how many video games he plays…that man has seen some of the worst sides of humanity

the world is lucky he’s a pacifist and avoids conflict because he has some vile stuff stored away (i will never be over him asking barou if he practiced kneeling because he’s about to make him his servant)

this particular quality makes him the BEST person to talk shit with

he’s not a gossipy boyfriend in the sense that he doesn’t have anything juicy of his own to contribute to the conversation but i’m pretty sure he mentioned he watches dramas at one point so you know he’s locked tf in if you need to complain abt someone

he will sit there and be so invested in the tea…def would not give any useful advice but he will make fun of anyone bothering you so you still end up feeling better

i don’t think he would get jealous honestly

the thought of you cheating on him doesn’t cross his mind at all because why would he date someone he didn’t trust fully???

i would say he expects the same from you because he would but at the same time he voluntarily talks to one (1) other person besides you and that’s reo so the opportunity for you to be jealous just wouldn’t even crop up

definitely super clingy and cuddly

loves being babied too

according to epnagi he has this whole automatic system in his apartment to clean and do laundry and i think he’d be fine if you appropriate that so no more cleaning!! but you will have to cook because that man literally only eats fruit jellies

genuinely how is he so built and not dying of malnutrition SKJFDSHKJ

he probably is terrible at coming up with date ideas so it’s up to you to plan things

again it’s not malicious i think for him just spending time with you is his ideal date!! like he doesn’t see the point in getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy when you could just eat at home and be comfortable together

but if it’s an important day or you tell him that you want him to suggest something for once, he WILL go all out (which means calling reo for advice and doing what he tells him to)

overall communication is key with him. he’s not particularly sensitive or in tune with other people’s emotions so being passive aggressive or expecting him to read your mind will honestly just end up making your mood worse because he will not pick up on the fact that something is wrong

but if you tell him what you want him to change he will happily do it!! he just needs to be told very clearly if you’re upset or need him to do something different

honestly it would be very refreshing. there are zero games with nagi and he doesn’t really try to hide anything — what you see is what you get 100% of the time

overall 10/10 would date idc haters dni he’s a sweetheart and he’s doing his best

[renren-006]

Y'all did know? - Daryl x fem reader

Anon: i absolutely fucking love your fics, i read so many fanfics i don’t always remember authors but i for sure remember and recognize you and your work partially bc i reread it often❤️ after reading your last daryl fic at 4 am bc i couldn’t sleep i had an idea for a fic for him. what if it was slightly the opposite thing, like daryl and reader got together early on, maybe the knew each other before hand like reader was a bartender at merle’s favorite bar bc we all know daryl takes time to warm up to be ppl, and the cdc happens, while drinking they make their confession and get together officially, but readers like daryl with the fact they’re kinda shy and take a while to warm up to ppl so they don’t do pda and stuff publicly, not really intending to hide it but also not wanting the attention, and maybe they assume their ppl from their group know (this is where the set up for that last fic got me bc i can see this being a long timeline)......

original ask: Ask

a/n: hey anon!! i decided to copy some of what you wrote here but it was a massive request and I absolutely enjoyed reading it and writing it!!! thank you for the kind words!! you guys are why i love writing and helping make your stories become reality! hope you all enjoy reading it! word count: 3107

taglist: @rosecentury

Before World Ended:

You met the Dixon brothers a few years before the world ended. You were a bartender at a small driver's roadside bar off Atlanta I-85. You started working there after you graduated from college, hoping to make some money to put away to get out of Atlanta. 

Merle was always a loud drunk and a loud customer throughout the day. Daryl, however, was a kinder soul, apologizing for his brother before seating himself directly in the center of the bar area. The two of you chatted through your shift, mostly about who comes in, how his day was, and what the weather for the week would be like. It was small talk, but with the other rednecks checking you out, you felt comforted by him. Daryl never made any plans to put any moves on you in the three years he knew you, but when the world ended, and you almost got killed, he knew he had to.

"I like ya," he said aloud. You looked over at him. He was gazing up at the sky, a beer between his knees. You just sat there watching the man. 

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked, slightly annoyed. You not only had almost died by an undead customer, but also it was an undead customer. The idea that people could die and come back to life as something unlike themselves was utterly unbelievable. You watched blow you as that undead walked around without noticing you and Daryl on the bar's roof. Merle was blocking the rest of the bar to keep everyone out. All three of you knew you would have to leave soon, but it didn't matter; the summer breeze was still blowing, and the beer was still cold for now. 

“It means…ya almost died and the shit of the world, so… I like ya.”

“You are a master with your words,” you told him sarcastically. You've known Daryl for years now; the two of you spoke the same language with people. You were always shy, and Daryl just took a while to open up to people. You both were a lot alike, and that's what kept you together and attracted you to one another. “I like you too.”

GEORGIA:

The two of you never addressed your relationship with each other, not that anyone really needed to know. Nor did the two of you showcase it. Since both of you were shy and had a bit of a more rigid exterior about letting people in, you just figured when you were alone with each other was the time to be closer, but out in the world hand, holding, loving looks, and conversation were the way to go about it. 

Merle knew, of course; he figured it out quickly. He was the only one learning about the two of you and not caring. Daryl acted the same as he had, except he didn't dare flirt with you. Daryl had given him one look on the road when you walked ahead, and he was staring at your ass that he never tried again. Merle may be mean to Daryl, but he never would cross-touch what were his brothers. Everyone thought it was a word.

“He doesn't flirt with you, does he?” Andrea asked you a few months into living together. You shook her your head. “Weird, he never stopped with me.”

“Maybe you're just his type, Andrea.”

“And you're not? Anything with tits and an ass and Merles all over it,” she said to you, not noticing the slight touch of hands with Daryl as he walked by and the smile you gave. She kept running on about Merle's annoyance, not noticing anything else around her. 

FARM:

“You crazy bitch” you yelled towards Andrea. She had run over far behind your form and Ricks. The two of you dashed towards the fallen man without a second thought in your mind. You ran towards your man, who was lying in the grass, groaning in pain. Daryl was barely speaking in Rick's arms as they carried him off. 

“Don't worry, your man will be fine,” Shane said, keeping you from absolutely bashing Andreas' face in. She took one look at your anger and held her hands up, walking backward towards Dale. “Don't bite her head off for this.”

“Whatever,” you said, shoving him off and walking up towards the house, where Daryl was now being brought inside. You didn't even consider Shanes's words that day, “your man.” it never crossed your mind that he was teasing you. Shane was a dick; everyone knew it more recently. You could see Shane's vacant eyes glancing at everyone in a way that made your skin crawl. You thought the only reason he was acting like that towards you was this asshole was flirting. He knew you were taken, right? You were mistaken. 

ROAD AGAIN:

You handed over a can of soda to Daryl. You had only found two in the house you searched.  Surprisingly, the can was left in a cabinet, meaning you could drink it if you wanted to. Daryl and Rick approached you once they entered the house. They both came to help you in the bigger house. You placed the soda in Daryl's hand.

“It's not beer, but I know you'll enjoy it anyway,” you said to him before heading up the stairs. 

“She's sweet on you,” Rick said with a smile, teasing the man beside him about you as you skipped the last few steps. 

“I know,” Daryl said as he went to look for other things inside the house. Rick looked back and forth between the stars and where Daryl had gone off, too. He laughed slightly.

“Those idiots,” Rick said, thinking they both had no clue about the other's feelings when everyone else was oblivious to their known feelings. 

PRISON:

You stood on the watchtower, scouting the land ahead. Daryl and a few others had gone on another trip to look for supplies. You had your rifle on the railing as you watched, and then you set up their gear and trucks. Maggie slid in next to you. She watched you watch Daryl move around in the ground, setting up his motorcycle. He looked good down there; the way his body moved, his mussels, and even the way his hair was falling was driving you wild. Maggie caught a glimpse of you checking him out.

“You're so obvious,” she told you. You laughed slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologized; you knew you were obsessed with watching him, but how could you not? You’ve known Daryl for so many years now it was impossible not to watch or admire the man before you. You loved him, and he knew that. Daryl was also quite aware of your joys of watching him, sometimes he would put on more of a show of stretching or giving you those lustful eyes you knew would mean the two of you wouldn't get any sleep that night. It was his favorite thing to do to get you worked up throughout the day. 

PRISON:

Daryl knew he was forgetting something before he even shut the truck's door. He heard her voice before she even reached the hill in the Prison. 

“Wait.” Daryl glanced out the window of the truck, putting his arm out and waving. He knew she was smiling from that before her face popped up in his vision. “You forgot your water bottle!” Smiling up at him was you, his girl—Rick snickers from the seat beside Daryl. 

“Thanks,” He said, grabbing the water bottle from your hand, “saving my ass.”

“Always am,” you responded, giving him a wink. Have a safe trip out.” As you said it, you turned with a wave and walked back up the hill. Swaying our hips bit as you did, you gave Daryl a show that you knew would make him come back to you tonight with a mission. 

Daryl and Rick headed off on their scout to a new town they had spotted on the map, a few miles away from the other town they had picked clean. As the two looked around the houses, Daryl went through many jewelry cases for anything that might seem like something you would wear. Rick came in on him, picking through when he had found the perfect thing.

“She would love this,” Daryl said. Rick came up next to him, observing the (silver/gold) necklace with a bird on the end of the chain swinging in the air. 

“Do you think about anything but her?” Rick asked, laughing as he exited the room to look in the one next to it. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. No, you were always on his mind. 

Little did he know, Rick assumed Daryl had a massive crush on you, not that he had any suspicions you two were already together.

When they returned and Daryl was back sitting next to you on that mattress on the floor, he pulled out the necklace. 

“I found it,” he told you, handing it over to you so you could see it. “I know how much ya miss these types of things.”

“Haha, did you know I missed jewelry?” You asked him, shocked he somehow knew how much you missed having something to wear around your neck. He nodded his head.

“I knew, ya mentioned it a while ago. Been looking for something for ya”

“Daryl,” you said with admiration. He put it around your neck; the man who you had met in a bar all those years ago was now putting a necklace on your neck in a run-down prison at the end of the world. 

AFTER PRISON FALL:

“Daryl?” You said, besides Carol, who had just completed her job of destroying a massive facility of cannibal people. You had been with her, the girls, and Tyreese since the fall and had been so scared that Daryl didn't make it out of the prison. You had run out of the hut and left Tyrese once you heard the explosion. You had found Carol and walked over to the others and saw him. 

Daryl didn't hesitate to run straight for you. You hugged me so tight you felt the air in your lungs stop for a moment, but you didn't care.

“I miss ta. I thought ya died,” Daryl said as he clung to your body. He had gone through hell to fight and find you, and here you were, not a scratch on you and in his arms again. That necklace still hung around your neck, a form of commitment to the both of you about who you were with.

“I'm alive. I'm alive,” you said as you held the man in your arms. The others stood and watched your reunion, no one thinking anything- “Wow, they must care for each other a lot.”

Once he broke off the hug, it was like looking into the eyes of the world again. You could see color, purpose, and meaning. He was everything to you.

 

AFTER TERMINUS:

After the terminus, Daryl stuck to your side. The two of you walked together, ate together, slept near each other, and went on runs together. When Carol and Daryl went to Atlanta, so did you. 

“How long have you two been together?” she asked as you walked through another building in Atlanta. Daryl casually answered as he passed an office door with a walker trying to get out.

“Since Atlanta fell,” he answered. Carol stopped, turning back to the two of you.

“You've been together for more than three years?” She asked the two of you. “How did no one pick up on it?”

“Wait, what?” you asked, shocked, “How does no one know Daryl and me are together?”

“You two have never been very…affectionate,” she told the two of you. Darly glanced your way. The two of you laughed a little at that.

“Yea, that makes sense,” Daryl said. This was the moment the two of you started looking towards the others for any answers if they knew you were together. For the last few months on the road, getting to Alexandria yielded you the response that no one knew a thing. It caused a bit of agitation for the two of you about how maybe your attitudes about being affectionate were causing more harm than good. 

ALEXANDRIA:

Once you all had gotten settled in and jobs were assigned, you all started to try and live a normal life again.Since moving into the two houses, you shared a space with Miccone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, and the kids. You and Darly took a room downstairs along with Carol down the hall, and the rest were split in the rooms upstairs. No one questioned you staying with Daryl or even looked at the fact that there was only one king bed in that room with the two of you. 

While Darly was assigned to go on runs to look for people, you were assigned daycare and teacher duty at the house designated for the school. It kept you busy while Darly was away, and on the days you had off or no one showed, you hung around with Crol or took watch. Many days, you walked around the complex, taking in the signs and the ability to walk in peace. That was until one day.

“Hey, you're one of the women from the new group, right?” a man asked as you walked back to your shared house. You could see Daryl on the porch talking with Carol, but he had not seen you yet. 

“Uh yeah,” you said, continuing to walk back; the man pulled your arm to face him.

“You know it's rude to keep walking when someone is talking to you. Or did you forget that after living in the wild for so long?”

“I didn't forget anything; I just don't want to talk to you,” you told the man, shaking your arm out of his grasp and walking faster towards the house. Finally, you made eye contact with Daryl. The way his face looked, you knew it was because he had heard. The man didn't stop trying. 

“Hey, don't walk away from me,” he said, running back up to you, grabbing your arm so hard and pulling and making you stumble back. “What if I'm not good enough for you? Can’t a man ask a girl for some action or what?” he said, pulling you closer to him. 

“Stop it,” you yelled back, but you didn't have to fight hard. Daryl was a flash before being by your side, and the man's face was flush against his fist.

“Touch me woman again, and that's the least I'll do to ya,” he said. The man froze as he looked up at you from the ground. That was the day you realized the longer people didn't know either of you was together, the more people would try and come up to you, assuming you were not. 

Daryl went to bed that night, angry. You knew it wasn't towards you, but the coldness in the room made you feel like the world was ending if you and him couldn't be more open. 

ALEXANDRIA:

‘What if you two just got married?” Carol asked as she was cooking in the kitchen. You paused your reading from the chair in the living room to look into the kitchen at Carol. 

“What?’ You asked, shocked by her expression. She turned away from what she was cooking on the stove to talk to you. 

“Well, since the people in Alexandria won't take the hint you've taken, and Daryl's upset, and also the issue of our own family not knowing…maybe you should just go out, find some rings, and get married.”

“I…hadn't thought of that,” you told her. “You think Daryl would be okay with that?”

“I think Daryl is more on board with that idea than you think, y/n,” Carol told you. She knew about the distance that had been caused by the repetitive men hitting on you. The guy whose nose was broken never once tried to come up to you and denied anything happening with you when others asked. No one knew what Darly had said that day apart from those there. The decision was made, at least on your part. You stomped your way over to Aaron's house. When he answered the door, you stomped in. 

“Need Daryl,” was all you said before heading to the back of his house to the garage. There, Daryl's bike sat as he tinkered with it. You slammed the door open, causing Daryl's head to look towards the door. A shutter went through the house.

“The hell, woman..” Darly almost got out. 

“Marry me,” you said when he was almost done speaking. Daryl's mouth closed, looking at you. “Do you need me to repeat myself? Daryl Dixion, marry me.”

“Ya no, I heard ya y/n,” he said, standing up, “why?’

“Why? Because I love you, and no one can even tell I do or that we have been together for more than four years,” you told him, frustrated by the string of events of the past year. 

“You want to marry me?” Daryl asked, taking your face in his grease-covered hands.

“Yes,” you told him, smiling.

EVERYONE'S REACTIONS:

Rick was holding a dinner for the family that night. Carol completed a large spread, and everyone showed up. You and Daryl were late. When you showed up, the two of you were holding hands. Michone was the first to welcome the new development.

“You guys waited long enough,” she joked, causing other heads to turn. Daryl looked down at his feet, and you just let out a sigh.

“We didn't, though,” you told them. Everyone looked twords you two in confusion. 

“Didn't what?” Michone asked, clearly confused by what was happening. 

“We've been together for four years,” Darly said, “And we just got married to prove it.” He lifted his hand to show the gold band on his finger, and yours lifted as well, showing the (silver/gold) band with a few small diamonds on it. The two of you had found a jewelry store and had fun picking out your ring, while Darly wanted something simple. 

“Holy shit,” Abraham said. 

“Wait, what? '' Carl shouted, clearly confused about how his uncle had been together with you for so long, and he didn't know.

“Congratulations,” Carol answered. Everyone else was shocked. “Oh, I've known about them for a while.”

“Tonight's dinner story is how the two of you got together,” Rick said as he motioned for the others to sit, “And no one is leaving out any details.”

[freyito]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader

★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.

✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.

🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 2.2k

The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.

Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.

You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.

Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.

You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.

Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?

You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.

When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.

Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?

You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.

When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.

You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.

On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.

The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.

Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.

“Micah–”

“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”

At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”

Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.

“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.

A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.

You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.

Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.

Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…

Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.

You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…

“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.

“... To the ghosts of the past?”

“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[look-at-the-soul]

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

Author’s notes: This story is for you, in no particular order @zablife @runnning-outof-time @red-riding-wood @teenwolf-theoriginals @justrainandcoffee @brummiereader I’ve had the main idea in my mind for weeks after driving past a luxury restaurant daily, I think it’d still haunt me if I didn’t write this one down lol… anyways I decided to a few names of lovely mutuals. This is a small nod to you all for the amazing work you do and in an attempt to cheer you up or anyone who might need it at the moment. If for whatever reason you feel down, without inspiration, worried, or anything else, know that it will pass. This particular moment that feels like too much won’t last forever ✨I just hope/wish you get what you are looking for. And to anyone else going through anything hard right now, this is for you too!

Ps. Don’t panic the fandom isn’t falling down, I just felt the need to dedicate this story to lovely mutuals to spoil and cheer them up a bit 🤗

Last but not least, extra 🌟 to @blondie-22 for creating this gorgeous moodboard!! 💖

Word count: 3,245

Friday night had been quiet compared to today, it seems like everyone decided to go out on Saturday and go to that club, as if there wasn’t enough options in the city.

Y/N swallowed hard feeling worried, this was her second weekend working at the club and she wanted to give a good first impression and save as much money as possible.

Her other job as secretary paid for the rent and services, but she needed to have this second one on the weekends to support her grandmother and her medicines.

As the hostess, she was requested to wear a total black outfit, so she thought her little black dress was the right choice, it was fitting for her shape, it wasn’t too revealing or short and one of the girls, Red had suggested spraying some lidocaine on her feet to be able to stand all night in those heels. She quickly adapted well to the group of girls that worked there, they were all so nice to her and welcoming.

“Ready? I’ve an amazing list prepared.” Lee, one of the girls walked past her, ready to take her place at the DJ booth.

“Last week was hectic, I’ve a feeling this will be crazier.” Y/N expressed fiddling with the guest list for the night.

“Here, drink this.” Brummie, another of the girls came closer placing a glass next to Y/N. After a week, Y/N learned the reason for that nickname was her strong Brummie accent even after all the years she left the place.

“Go easy on the drinks, she makes them strong.” K chuckled. She was the first one to welcome Y/N into their little girls-gang as they called themselves. The only ladies working in a place owned by men.

“Doors opening in ten.” The manager advised, taking one more look at the place, waiters were ready. “Make tonight a good night everybody.”

Lee started playing the music then, experimenting with some new beats, she mixed a couple of the new hits. Lights down, Y/N took a deep breath, approaching the door.

“They better leave good tips tonight.” Red raised her eyebrows. She was in charge of promos, she was great at convincing people to order another round of shots, or if it was ladies night and they got 2x1 on special drinks.

“We’re in your hands Red.”

“I’ll do my best ladies.” She replied through the device they shared to communicate.

“Alright, it’s about time.” Y/N rolled her neck. “Lee, we’ve a party of six tonight, celebrating a bachelorette, could you include some anthems?”

“Absolutely darl.” Lee then turned up the volume of the music.

“If someone sees that baker, let me know?” Rose appeared then at the bar, she had been hiding in the office, she was in charge of detecting any potential trouble from the monitors.

“Sweetheart, everyone knows he’s not a baker.” Lee informed her, talking about Alfie.

“I haven’t seen him, so I wouldn’t know.” Y/N called from her place.

“Oh he’s just the most handsome man ever.” Rose swooned.

Y/N chuckled, the club would be the last place where she’d find love, she just knew that. Walking towards the door, the guard opened it for her.

She started searching for the name she was given in the guest list. A group of girls wearing exaggerated make up and deep cleavage plus the shortest skirts or dresses where the firsts ones to make it in. She was totally against it, but it was an unwritten rule to let people in, the more skin, the better.

But she wasn’t there to judge anyone, let the girls dress as they preferred, in the end she wasn’t the one getting wasted and dragged in the end of the night to throw up outside. She was there just for the money. Another table was filled by three men, they were older and dressed in button shirts with ripped jeans, as if it was an uniform for them.

Y/N thought how it was funny to try to guess their backgrounds, where they came from and with whom they might leave the club. She was just trying to make the time pass faster.

In no time, the club was packed, but outside there was still a bunch of people trying to make it.

People tried to give Y/N money to get in, some were even rude to her but the guards took charge into the matter and invited them to leave.

“I made a reservation, could you check again?” The young guy requested politely.

Y/N started reading the names again, but by the corner of her eye, she caught someone skipping the line. “Ah, excuse me? Sir?”

The man who was already by the door, turned around slowly, opening the zipper of his jacket. His death stare made Y/N feel a shiver running down her back.

“There’s a line you’ve to make and wait.” Three more men arrived and stared at her with amused expressions. “Name?”

The man blinked and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “Shelby. But you won’t find my name there, love.” Y/N saw him stopping the three other men with his hand.

“Then you’ll have to wait in the queue.”

For an instant, his expression was so transparent and Y/N knew he was offended.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just following orders.” She apologized and shuddered under his intense blue irises.

“Oi!” One of them, the one with a mustache tried to step closer.

“Arthur, leave it, we’re going to follow this lovely lady’s order and wait.” He then turned to face her again. “Accept a sincere apology for trying to get in.” He then winked.

The well dressed men followed his instructions and stepped back. Then she focused on the next people on the guest list, guiding them inside.

Barely a minute went by when Lucas, the manager grabbed her by the arm, dragging her inside in a blunt movement that made her go alert.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lucas snapped, spit flying from his mouth. “You left the Shelby brothers outside! The fucking owners of this place.”

Just as Lucas was explaining Y/N her mistake , Tommy walked behind her, with his brothers following his steps.

“That was a first Tommy.” John grinned. “The first woman who doesn’t let you walk in as the owner of the place, and you did nothing.”

John was definitely having fun at Tommy’s expense. Arthur couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, but he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Yeah, yeah she was only doing her job.” Tommy tried to excuse the hostess.

There was something that took him by surprise and startled him.

“And you walked back to the queue like a dog with the tail between the legs.” John went off again.

Tommy dragged his eyes across the club, he needed to know more about her. So he walked towards the bar.

“The usual Mr. Shelby?” Brummie asked her boss from behind the bar, he always waited to be served at his table.

Slowly, he posed his eyes on her, considering his options. “Please.” He replied then, clearing his throat.

“Here you go, I’ll take the other drinks up in a second.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he turned his back at her and slowly strolled across the club. Although he had security, he always checked his surroundings.

After a while, he found the manager. “Lucas, come here.” Patting him on the back, Tommy asked him about the hostess, she was just passing by in that very moment, but Tommy noticed the quick glance she threw at him.

“Again, I’m sorry it happened Mr. Shelby, she’s new but it won’t repeat.”

“No problem.” He added calmly. “What do you know about her?”

Lucas shook his head, he didn’t care about the staff personal life. “Not much, but I’ll investigate her.”

In that moment, Tommy’s eyes found her, arms linked with the girl in charge of the checking the credit cards records.

“Damn it, I made a huge mistake, I’m so so done.” Y/N cried in a low voice. Worry written all over her face.

“What did you do?” Rose squeezed her shoulder.

“I didn’t know it was him.” She babbled. “I asked Mr. Shelby and his brothers to wait in line for their turn to get a fucking table.” Y/N explained over the music.

Rose stared at her for a split second and then bursted into an incontrolable laugh. “No you didn’t!”

“I did Rose! I did… and now he’s going to fire me.”

But she kept laughing. Trying to take a deep breath she sent their chat group a message urging the other girls to meet in the back.

You’re not gonna believe what Y/N did, she’s a hero! - she announced proudly.

“I can’t imagine the face he put on, must’ve gone like a stone.” Rose pinched her arm playfully.

Lee programmed a couple of songs to play automatically, Brummie left the bartender in charge while she claimed a quick bathroom trip. Red rushed the guys on the table to pay her for their drinks and tip.

As the group gathered in the back, they we waiting eager to hear what had happened.

“Our newest friend here, made the boss wait in line to get a table.” Rose announced ceremonially, pointing at Y/N.

She wasn’t trying to make fun of her, just trying to have a moment to relax.

Y/N groaned mortified, she kept shaking her head. Overthinking of what would happen.

“Nice way to get the Shelby’s attention.” Red pointed at Y/N with a smile, enjoying the teasing.

“Can we ask for the CCTV footage?” K asked. “I want to see him in the line.”

“I was looking for you,” Isiah one of the blinders appeared suddenly, “ladies how are you doing? Y/N… Mr. Shelby wants to see you.”

A chorus of ohhh’s from the girls filled the space.

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Lee looked around the group.

“Well it depends…” Red crossed her arms. “Hopefully he’s in a good mood.”

“I doubt it to be honest.” Rose raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But maybe she knows how to tame the beast.”

“Oh oh, if there’s group meeting it means something happened?” Mia joined the girls, she asked permission to arrive later that day. She had some personal affair to attend.

K placed her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “You just missed the fun, but I’ll make a short version while we prepare some drinks.” They were both in charge of the bar.

“Last time we had an urgent meeting, Michael got arrested.” Mia remembered with a chuckle.

“Oh, this is better than that.” Red assured before going back to the crowded tables.

As Y/N followed Isiah, her heart was pounding, grabbing her phone she texted her friend, Heidi.

I think I messed up, BIG.

A quick answer appeared on her screen, in the background a themed photo illuminated the phone, beautiful shades of green reminded her of nature and hope, it was made by a really talented friend.

What happened?! Are you OK?

Yeah. No… I confused the owner of the club and asked him to wait outside and make the line!

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

If I don’t reply back he probably let me blind. Carries a peaky cap with a razor blade.

Y/N took a deep breath and checked her phone again.

Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Her friend encouraged back.

She just prayed to not mess it up again and start babbling, arriving at the private area where the Shelby’s were she quickly tried to fix her short hair and bangs.

“Good evening,” her voice was shaking, her legs and her heart, everything! “I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier, I’m new and didn’t know any of you.”

Her eyes landed one more time on who seemed to be the leader, those icy eyes boring into the deepest part of her. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Yeah, now me brother wants to find a way to speed the line up.” One of them explained, blowing his smoke towards the ceiling.

“John.” The man with the blue eyes warned. “Nevertheless, I’ve to thank you for keeping the line in check.”

His deep accent and the way he dragged each word gave her chills.

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

“Here drink this.” Another of them, the one with a mustache offered her a glass. “To a very good job!”

The two youngest were whispering something and staring back at the leader.

“It’s alright, really.” Tommy assured her after seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The one he called John a moment ago suggested.

“Again I’m really sorry.”

“Y/N is it?” He rolled his tongue over his lips after saying her name. “It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, I’m John, so you don’t mistake me again.” He had a huge grin on his face. “This is Finn, Michael and Arthur.” He started pointing out at everybody. “And that’s Tommy.”

“I won’t forget your names.” She repeated them mentally. “Enjoy your night, I’ll bring you another round.”

Y/N excused herself and went back to work. He was wearing a simple white shirt with a jacket and black jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. She was trying to focus on the people in the guest list instead of those eyes that reminded her of the most beautiful sky.

She smiled at a couple that walked past her dancing to the beat of the music.

A table next to her exploded in shouts and claps as K and Mia arrived with their shots and sparklers.

From the second floor, Tommy was watching her every move, eyes following her everywhere, studying her moves and the way she approached clients.

Arthur waved his hand in front of Tommy’s eyes after he didn’t listened to what he said.

“Tom? What do you think?”

Finn nudged John’s arm, tilting his head towards Tommy.

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, pretending to be part of their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Earth calling Tommy.” John teased. “He’s still waiting outside in the queue.”

Shooting John a death stare, he asked Arthur to repeat himself.

“Shall we call some women up?”

“Whatever.” He cleared his throat and stood up making his way through the club.

Talking to security, they informed him they kicked out a customer that got noisy and aggressive, but other than that, it was a quiet night. Everything seemed to be under control, the place was packed, everyone wanted to get in, live the experience and have the status only Delux could offer. He knew it was the best club in town, many club owners tried to copy his place, but they all failed, they tried to copy the details that made his club unique, it screamed luxury and good taste.

Eyeing Y/N across the club, Tommy decided to walk towards her, she was focused on the list before her eyes, swaying her hips to the beat of the music, pouting her lips murmuring the words… he could only imagine how would them feel against his, while his fingers tangled in her short hair.

Before he could reach her, she then turned her back at him to walk in the opposite direction, but abruptly, she changed her mind and turned around again, bumping into Tommy’s chest in the process.

“Mr. Shelby! I’m really sorry.” He could tell she was mortified, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Tommy reluctantly took a step back.

Y/N hoped her voice wouldn’t crack. “Do you need something?” Battling her lashes slowly at him. “Can I take you your drinks upstairs?”

He was startled by her overwhelming beauty, under some kind of spell by her voice and smile. It had been so long since he felt so captivated by someone… Shaking his head slowly to clear his mind, but she thought he was saying no to her.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Y/N started walking away. “Well if you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually I do.” Tommy managed to say, making Y/N turn to face him once more.

Everything happened in a blink, he grabbed her by her face and kissed Y/N, not able to resist the desire any longer. But when she answered the kiss with the same eagerness and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull Tommy closer he lost it.

Guiding Y/N towards the wall, he trapped her between it and his body.

Kissing her hard, he tilted his head to the opposite side, relieved to feel her matching his desire. Feeling one of his hands, brushing down from her waist to her hip and then down her leg, she added some pressure on his shoulders.

“Someone can come.” Y/N warned him breathlessly, his lips barely away from hers, just what was really necessary for her to speak.

“I don’t fucking care, I own this place.” Tommy told her right before kissing her again with passion.

Squeezing the flesh of her thigh and he felt as if he had whiskey injected in his veins.

Y/N moved her head back slightly, that left Tommy with his mouth hanging open in an almost sensual kiss that had just slipped away from him. Opening his eyes after the failed mission, he found her bitting her lower lip playfully.

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

“I really need get back to work or my boss might fire me.” Y/N explained before stealing one more quick peck on his lips and bending down to free herself from him, left Tommy leaning against the wall with his heart pumping so fast that it felt like he was having a heart attack.

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

Going back up, he stood looking down at the people at the club, his eyes scanning the place until he found that pretty little thing that with just one kiss, made him feel more than anyone else.

Feeling som eking of pressure on 5e back of her head, Y/N turned around and lifting her eyes, she found Tommy staring at her from the second floor. Raising his glass at her, he added a wink.

Y/N felt her cheeks blushing and smile quickly spread on her lips. Checking the clock, she walked towards the door it was about time to not let anyone else in.

“Your lipstick is smeared dear.” Mia pointed out.

“Damn it, really?” Worryingly she went back to the bar, to check her reflection on the mirror behind all the booze bottles.

As the girls started to ask her what had happened, she got another message on her phone.

Think you can send me back to the line twice and get away with it twice? Meet me in my office once you’re done. -Your boss.

She gasped. He oozed trouble from every angle, the one that won’t let you get up from bed after several rounds.

He was practically the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.

✨ thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little spiced story 🔥

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife

@elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

@lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

@ironpen @holacia3 @narlytude

[sapphicscholar]

Hacks Episode 3x09 Thoughts

Okay, so back during S2, I wrote up my thoughts about each pair of Hacks episodes as they dropped – partially for sharing but largely as an archive for myself of my own thoughts/feelings to revisit when I watched the episodes later to see how they held up, how it compared to watch them serially vs. as a whole season, etc. Anyway, I was incredibly stressed out and busy for much of this season (after over a year of that being the key set of words to describe my life), but I wanted to throw out my thoughts about the finale before they grow too stale! And maybe I’ll come back and revisit the prior episodes in posts later when I have the time (hopefully in just a couple short weeks!) to enjoy them properly

As always, disjointed bulleted lists are the name of the game, going from the big picture to the detailed:

Overall, this felt like a very solid episode in the vein of season 1 in many ways! It brought us back to the interpersonal as the primary ground of conflict after many episodes (here and in S2) of the new hour, the special, and the Late Night host gig quest being our main plot drivers (which, at many times, made for weaker storytelling for reasons that exceed the scope of this post!). In particular, I felt like this episode hit its stride around the halfway point, and never really faltered after that in impressive ways!

That being said, I had two somewhat significant critiques of the finale (both of which reflect larger trends about strands of the show that continue to leave me a little disappointed)

We should have seen Marcus' conversation with Deborah about the new job. Period. I'll get into what could have been cut in my second critique, but even if there weren't weak spots in the episode, I still would have been deeply disappointed in the show for this oversight, especially since they apparently filmed it. Although Hacks is clearly a show with a leading duo, it once had a core ensemble, but S2 saw them moved more and more to B-plots and bit roles, and now S3 has seen many of the characters we know and love eliminated almost entirely--a point that's particularly galling given that it's almost entirely characters of color (many of them canonically queer) who have been cut in favor of new white characters. Moreover, this scene would have been SO IMPORTANT - I could have seen it going 2 ways: a) Marcus quits after the convo where Deborah tells Ava she's willing to lose her, and Deborah has a reaction that is so utterly outsized because it's the terror of losing the person she's had with her the longest now compounded with the reality setting in that she's also driven away the woman who gave her new life when she most needed it; or b) Marcus shows up to quit, and Deborah immediately launches into a rant about Ava's leaving, which puts Marcus in the awkward spot of adding to that at a pivotal moment in the career of the woman he's spent much of his adult life with or giving up something he needs to do for himself; it could have been a lovely callback to S1 when he shows up with his whole speech prepared but then accepts the promotion without ever telling Deborah how he feels - only this time Marcus would have changed so much, and he'd have the opportunity to showcase that growth by insisting that he needs to do this for him. So many lost opportunities...

re what could have been cut because imo it did NOT work: Kathy Vance's return. Now, I love Hacks in large part because it insists on the complexity of its characters. No one is purely the victim or the hero of the story, and Deborah's "click" moment showcased that better than anything. AND YET the writing here did not work. Back in the Christmas ep, I messaged a friend saying I was glad that they brought Kathy back but seemed not to ask us to side with her - after all, she comes crashing back into Deborah's life, doesn't take ownership over her actions and in fact insists she was in the right because it only happened a few times, because Deborah wasn't sleeping with him (very "you weren't playing with it, so it's mine now" little sister energy that is deeply unappealing in a grown ass adult), and because they were the "better couple" which is, I'm sorry, NEVER the fucking thing to tell someone whose marriage and life you destroyed. I joked then that I'd take back my compliments if her role in the finale suggested that actually we should be on Kathy's side here. And lo and behold... What's a real bummer is that there were ways to do this better! Because you can have sympathy for an imperfect character--this show is a testament to that fact!--but not like this. We as an audience have no reason to side with Kathy when she insists that Deborah will be worse than ever and berates her for cutting their weekend short. Instead, we see a woman with a large sense of entitlement she's done nothing to earn and directorial choices that don't make it a smooth transition. But what could have been lovely is, for instance, treating the Christmas and finale reunions as these deflationary moments of anticipation and disappointment because they are, after this many decades, essentially strangers to one another. Had we seen two women who longed for the deep affective ties of their childhood relationship only to be confronted with the cold hard fact of their estrangement from one anther, it would have been so much more powerful. And here you could ACTUALLY garner sympathy (some) for Kathy by having it be this moment of "I lost my sister" partially through her own actions "to Late Night once, and now, right when I have a chance to try to build something with her again, I feel like I'm going to lose her again before I can even really try to do right by her this go around." THAT could have worked. This was just too much time on something that did almost nothing in the grand scheme of the plot (because we didn't have the emotional connection to feel it as another compounding loss for Deborah in an episode where Ava's "and you're going to die alone" could have landed with even more force)

Okay so it turns out this is getting hella fucking long, so some shorter praise and giddy feelings things:

I LOVE how often Ava got to say the things we've all been squeeing about for years during this episode - especially that the material is good because of their relationship, not the other way around; their dynamic is not incidental to the work, and that's so important to me personally.

I had guessed that Ava would be offered head writer and quit her current job, only to have it taken away because Deborah was too scared to rock the boat, but I did NOT see the end coming! In fact, I kind of thought Ava might end up suing Deborah for intellectual property theft (using material Ava wrote outside of her contractual appointment for the new show because, surprise surprise, the writers who sucked when she was a guest still suck now compared to Ava!) In fact, I sort of thought that end scene might end up being a return to the car scene, and was relishing the thought of Ava's mimicking Deb's "It'll be fun, honey." But the blackmail as a form of love/devotion was soooo much better. Truly chef's kiss.

Also the way this rewrote the S2 finale even as the underlying message remained the same is so special to me - I'll stay with you even when it's bad for me (sacrificing my career -> sacrificing my morals) because it's good for you and more importantly it's good for us and the work. JPL know how to write a finale, and I'd give up a kidney to have that same energy be there throughout a whole season again (not that the eps are bad, but they lack some of the sharpness in writing and emotional depth that JPL do so well with finales and also often with the first couple eps of a season too)

Lastly JPL going on the record that Deborah was turned on by that final scene + Ava's "I would, wouldn't you?" and "Let's begin" - truly some of the hottest TV. We're so back babyyy. No more half naked superheroes with all the eroticism of a desk chair. Give me messy women determined to fling themselves into the air because they know the thrill is worth everything good and safe they're leaving behind, even if they hit the ground with no parachute!

I have many, many thoughts about S3 and what's to come, but I'll save them for another post because phewww this got long as fuck

[unordinary-diary]

Thinking about how Blyke is actually insanely strong, even by the standards of his world, yet he gets his ass kicked for the entire story.

From episode one...

To the first actual fight he’s ever been in... (ch. 15) [Edit: second actual fight]

... to the approximate middle of the story... (ch. 197)

... Up through the very latest chapter as of me writing this— (ch. 345)

— Blyke repeatedly gets pummeled.

Over,

and over,

and over,

and over.

It’s really no wonder he gets insecure about it.

I mean, these screenshots were all taken from different fights. The amount of fights he’s won, on screen, without backup is... once or twice against Zeke, once against Gou (Agwin’s Jack from turf wars), and once as a vigilante solo act. That’s four, max. There could be more that I’ve forgotten, but I’ve read this series so many times and I really can’t think of any. (No, I don’t count firing a warning shots to get people to behave as “winning a fight”.)

compared to all the fights he’s been outmatched in? You’ve got Rein from turf wars, Volcan, John, John, John, Lennon from his vigilante solo stunt, John again, the fight in the Rowden amusement park, the attack on Rowden hill, Ember, and now the authorities in general. Possibly more that I forgot. That’s 11. He didn’t necessarily lose all those fights, but they’re fights where he was way out of his depth and/or would’ve lost without backup.

Anyway, point is: Blyke is no stranger to getting his ass kicked. In particular, he is no stranger to getting kicked while he’s already down.

In fact, I’m gonna take an example from the turf wars match in chapter 15: Blyke has already lost the fight with Rein, yet Arlo hangs him out to dry. Arlo is the one who’s supposed to call him back to get healed, yet he just smiles while the others look at him expectantly, and Blyke gets more and more injured. Even Rein is questioning it.

I could and honestly probably will do a whole analysis on just chapter 15, but eventually Seraphina calls him back for healing. The way Blyke was treated in that scene was kinda heartbreaking.

GOD chapter 15 is my favorite episode but it leaves me with so many questions grrr I wanna talk about it but that’s another entry.

Putting that aside, Blyke is very protective, and compassionate to the plight of others when he’s aware of it. After he sees the situation in Branish, he is immediately, rightfully pissed about the way society is. It opens his eyes to a world he hasn’t experienced, and it reframes how he thinks of John (still a “cripple” at the time).

To the actual point of this diary entry (other than rambling about Blyke, that is), John is another character who gets repeatedly kicked while he’s down. I don’t think I need screenshots to prove that. However, in my current reread of the series, I recently came across a certain panel that I do wish I had a screenshot of. It’s either Blyke or Seraphina who asks John “Why are you always kicking people while they’re down?” And John responds: “Because everyone kicked me when I was down!” And I think that’s a vivid contrast with Blyke, who has been kicked while he’s down, and chooses to protect people who are weaker than him. In particular, I want to point out that in order to protect them, Blyke is willing and actively chooses to get beaten quite brutally.

Mind you, this ^ is to protect people who he barely knows. He and Sera aren’t close, and the others are practically strangers.

It’s pretty much the inverse reaction. John says “Others kicked me while I was down, so I’ll do the same on everyone else tenfold.” Blyke says “I was kicked while I was down, and goddammit I will keep getting kicked if it means other people don’t have to.”

It’s such a cool parallel, and the fact that when John was getting kicked, Blyke was trying to help, but when Blyke was getting kicked, John was doing the kicking adds so many layers to it.

[imagine-darksiders]

Hello! Hopefully caught you in a restful time. I just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! I neither knew what darksiders was nor cared until I stumbled onto your blog. I never played the games but the way you write the personalities of each person makes them feel alive! Like I'm talking to the people myself!

The way you write trauma is realistic and it pops up at random but amazingly along the flow that it feels both out of place and not! Reminding the reader that yes, this person is brave but they're still hurt and in no way in the optimum of sanity. Even though they're holding themselves together the way a realistic person does!

I got hooked! I never knew these characters and yet you made it so that I'll feel like I knew them all my life! I'm honestly itching to buy the game yet I'm scared that the creator of the game won't be able to reach your amazing characterizations.

Is the game truly that good? I'm a little scared to buy it then find that the game devolopers rushed it. If so, which game should I start with? Does it require a strong pc? X-box? I'm still unsure of using technology.

In all honesty, I'm trying to stop myself from writing a fanfic based on your fanfic. Though, it wouldn't be the same. I still have assignments to finish and I haven't been writing stories that much. Do you have any advice for new writer? Even ones about writing-work-life balance? Or, how to bring a character to life?

I'm mostly fantasising about the storyline in my head, and drawing doodles of it on whichever paper is closest to me.

Which brings me to your fantastic art! Your anatomy is amazing! The way your draw facial expressions makes it feel like they're talking around me in real life! The body types have a wide range that I don't see often and oh so thankfull to see!

From darksiders Death looking like death ran over him to darksiders Fury and the female maker twin looking like what one would expect a fighter and weapon maker would look like! Even the reader character looks amazing!

Would it be okay if I ended up following your timeline? I still don't know much about the game and most of the information I'm diffusing into my brain is from your writing.

I hope you well. With care, Illya💜.

Ah jeez, ‘are the games truly that good?’

I’m biased, so I’m going to say hell yes they’re good. They’re all so different too. I got the first game when it came out in 2010 and fell in love with the style and characters, so going into 2 I already had that love for the franchise. My advice is always to start with the first game. You get an introduction to the world, the story and the characters and it just feels more meaningful when you play the sequels. I had it on the Xbox 360, but it runs perfectly okay on any system. I don’t know if it runs on Macs though.

Alternatively, you could watch the cutscenes, but I personally never get as attached to the story if I’m not playing the game myself.

I’d be so unequivocally excited if people wrote fics based on my stuff. So long as it wasn’t like word for word, you know.

Advice for new writers? Obviously focus on your studies, they’re far more important. Which is rich coming from me, I’d write during lectures all the time. But I still managed a 1st so lol. Otherwise: Get a notebook and a pen, I write so much faster when I’m not doing it at a computer. Also, don’t get hung up about making the characters too oc, you’ll forever be fretting over that, just write them as naturally as you can and love doing it. Most of my writing I do in the evening when nothing is expected of me and I can get stuck in without getting distracted.

Use simple language in your first draft. Repeat words, don’t worry about saying the same thing for the first draft, so long as you get the chapter written out, you can fuss out the finer details later. I’m guilty of getting hung up on vocabulary.

Dude. I need to see those doodles.

You can follow my timeline, no worries. Darksiders isn’t mine, all I’ll say is I’d prefer if people didn’t try to write ahead of where CHWH is currently and claim that’s how the story should/does continue.

I’m so pleased you’re enjoying my writing and art, I’ve noticed your username popping up in my notifications a lot, and it gets me all excited like ❤️ 🌟🌈🥰✨💫🫠

[sea-changed]

@selfconsciousfangirl replied to a post: I am so Jack Rackham 4.10 speech about Band of Brothers

How can I persuade you to write this essay

@sacrebloodybleu replied to a post: I am so Jack Rackham 4.10 speech about Band of Brothers

I would 100% read this essay

Well, this is not the essay, but these are something like notes for one section of the essay:

i. Of course, Band of Brothers positions itself so weirdly in regards to what is “true” in its story, given the way that they include the interviews with the real-life veterans at the beginning of each episode; it’s almost as if they’re setting up the meat of the episodes as a sort of documentary dramatization rather than a work of fiction. It’s the camera focusing in on the elderly Ryan‘s eye in Saving Private Ryan: if you could see into these men’s memories, this is what you’d see.

ii. That said, the mere fact that Band of Brothers is not accurate to the historical record is not particularly interesting to me; like, of course it’s not! (And I think overall it does a good job of deploying its accuracy where it counts, in the little details that make the world of he show feel real and lived-in.) To create a narrative out of real life, things have to be cut and changed; that’s how stories work. But I think what’s most interesting to me is the very fact of that narrativization, and if whether in the course of that process you lose essential truth about the war experience not in the negative cutting away or changing of documented facts but rather in the positive creation of coherent narrative.

iii. This is also one of the reasons I found reading Webster's memoir so interesting, because while it is a traditional narrative in the barest sense it never tries to make sense of what's happening by giving it greater symbolic meaning or explaining why. It's a series of events that never really coheres into a story.

(And, of course, it has to be considered that Webster never (to my understanding) "signed off" of the text that ended up being published as Parachute Infantry and that it is incomplete, but I think it's telling that the text that we have is fairly polished and shows no interest in this kind of narrativizing.)

iv. This is also closer to how I remember Leckie's and Sledge's memoirs reading (though it's been many years since I read either of them and may not be remembering clearly). I certainly think The Pacific benefits from the direct adaptation of their own accounts without the interlocution of an Ambrose figure. Indeed--though this is a whole different essay--I would argue that in some ways The Pacific is more successful as a war story because of one of its more frustrating qualities as a TV show, i.e., that the narrative is fractured and incoherent in the literal sense, lacking cohesion.

v. Reading/rereading Catch-22 and Slaughterhouse-Five recently, one of the most interesting things about both of these novels is the way they fracture traditional narrative structure in a way that removes any greater justifying causality--nothing happens for a greater reason or results in a greater good, it just happens. These novels are of course much more sophisticated on a narrative level than any of the memoirs (or The Pacific), and they are both fiction with extra-real elements that is some ways place them outside the direct confines of this discussion, but I think they support the idea that resisting coherent narrativization is key to obtaining something nearer to historical "truth" than mythology in war narratives.

vi. Band of Brothers succeeds as a story in part because it fulfills our expectations for what a story should be, and is satisfying because of that. There is greater meaning to the war, the enemy is comfortingly evil but also comfortingly intelligible, personal character and meaningful friendships are created in this unique and special crucible. The stories we want to believe, those are the ones that survive.

[childofthewolvess]

Healing from spiritual psychosis—a survivor's journey from delusion and depression, to happiness and purpose as a practicing pagan.

❗❗This post may not be suitable for audiences under 18. TW: psychosis, mania, delusion, suid*dal ideation, ab*se, religious trauma, manipulation, and mental health struggles in general. Reader discretion is highly advised.❗❗

This one is gonna be long. As a disclaimer, this story is a highly interpersonal journey to me and unique to my experience. I absolutely do not speak for everyone who has experienced spiritual psychosis, and if you want to know more generally about spiritual psychosis, check out my post on spiritual psychosis, what it is, and how to recognize the signs.

To say that I have a crazy story would be an understatement. I kid you not, this will probably be the craziest, most roller-coaster thing you read this entire week. Buckle up, because we're going in.

By telling this story, I hope that I can both help to spread awareness of the dangers of spiritual psychosis, and that recovery is possible. My wish is that this post will help to comfort another person who is still in the healing process from spiritual psychosis, because you are not alone! It is possible to live a religious and spiritual life following a spiritual psychosis episode.

But I will be honest—it is a battle, a journey, and a fight. I was not practicing any religion for close to two years. It wasn't easy, healing isn't all sparkles and glitter, and this story does not go through a linear healing process. In fact, I've been brainstorming how to just format this post for weeks. I'm going to attempt to follow this story chronologically with titles separating different sections.

My background as an autistic military kid and my susceptibility to spiritual psychosis

I have always been fascinated in the occult and drawn to the unusual. As early as I could remember, I had a tendency to see my spirit guides in my rest; I would pray to wolf spirits; I was obsessed with astrology as soon as I learned about it; I would make potions and spells without knowing what I was doing. I was born with an inherent trust and fascination in the mystical—I am an open individual to new ideas, highly imaginative (I write fantasy, after all), and did not grow up in a hyper-religious household. My mom always assumed it was my creativity and imagination speaking in a strange way, but never seemed to be worried about curious religious beliefs when I was a child and teenager. In fact, my family didn't go to church. We were vaguely Christian, celebrating Easter and Christmas, but I was not grown up under a strict, "if you don't believe in God you're going to Hell."

I never grew up scared or fearful of the mystical or religious; I grew up under a highly scientific and militaristic background. I was a military kid. I moved every couple of years to a new place. This shaped my entire perception of the world around me, very quickly—I was an outsider, even from the very start. I was the new kid, the outcast, always feeling like I didn't belong and questioning where I belonged in the first place. I was extroverted, loud, and autistic as well, but since I grew up amongst non-stop change packing up my life and moving on every couple of years, I didn't experience any fear for change. This... created so many problems. That's a story for my therapist.

It created problems, though, specifically in my adaptability and trust. I have always known myself to be an outsider, and because of that, I was not afraid to view myself as an outsider in the religious world. Being a military kid was a massive factor in fueling my spiritual psychosis, because as a teenager, I was in desperate search for a purpose and a sense of family/community. I grew up without stability, and learned to create my own stability. This would be my ultimate downfall and greatest strength as I grew older.

The other major factor that set me up for susceptibility to spiritual psychosis were my disabilities. I learn quickly and deeply with my special interests. I jump from topic to topic with a massive amount of energy with my ADHD. I am prone to obsessions and wanting to check them, as I have lived with extremely severe (now-medicated) Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder my whole life. This, combined with growing up as a military kid, brewed the perfect storm to strike me down when I was a teenager.

How my spiritual psychosis began, and how deeply it impacted all parts of my life

When I was 14 years old, after living in a state for 4 years (the longest I'd ever lived anywhere and finally felt a sense of stability), my life was thrown for a massive loop when I had to move to an entirely different state and go into a high school with complete strangers. I'm not exaggerating when I say that was rough on me. My mental health rapidly declined after I moved states. I was stuck in a transitional period—while I was in a new high school with people I didn't know, I was still talking online to my friends in my previous state. It was gut-wrenching for me to see them having fun with each other in high school while I felt like a silhouette, back to being the autistic new kid amongst a massive school of thousands I didn't know. But this time, it was high school, full of cliques I couldn't fit in, and judgement for who I was.

At this time, I was communicating with one spirit guide in particular. I was still identifying as a Christian, but I had an animal spirit guide who I'd met before I even moved. I would do meditations routinely to ask for this spirit guide's advice and knowledge. I built trust with him (the guide) very quickly, as prior to moving, there was no reason for me not to trust this guide.

Literally mere months after I moved, I started slipping quickly into spiritual psychosis. When I had been previously su*cidal and chronically depressed, I suddenly entered a rapid mania and happiness to the point where I believed there was absolutely nothing wrong. I was placed on a new hormonal medication for my chronic disorder that made me even more susceptible to delusion due to the hormone. It began with the belief of twin flames; this was a coping method because A), I didn't like men and had a shit ton of internalized homophobia, and B), I thought my twin flame was one of my previous friends living in the other state. Another friend from said state affirmed this belief, unfortunately, and this would lead to a chaotic and fast borderline-schizophrenic downfall. Nothing is more dangerous than an outside force reassuring someone with OCD that their delusional obsession is real.

My spirit guide confirmed and reassured me that I was correct in my friend being my twin flame (this wasn't true). I began meditating every single night, as soon as I got home from school slipping into a trance to talk to my spirit guide. I then started to believe that I was a healer chosen by God, and that's why I met my twin flame so early in life. This cascaded into the belief that I received "visions" of my future with my "twin flame" (it was maladaptive daydreaming). Then I started to believe that I was talking to the spirits of my future children with my twin flame. Then I believed I was literally pregnant with an angel spirit, gave birth, and visited heaven. I was taking care of a ghost angel child every moment of my day. And then, catch this, after stopping my belief in that, I believed I was an angel living on earth sent to heal others. I was not at all existing in the real world.

This all was affirmed by my spirit guide at the time, even though it wasn't true, whatsoever. I literally built a spiritual family and world that loved me because I was lacking it in the physical. And it was encouraged by my spirit guide.

Sure, I was a band kid, and sure, I forced myself through my homework, but in my head, I was nowhere near the present, constantly dissociated and losing more and more sleep to meditations where I'd "travel" to the spiritual realm to talk to these "spirits" (again, it was maladaptive daydreaming, lol). This lasted over a course of six months while gradually worsening. To my parents, I looked like I was fine—it was all happening in my head, and I was highly isolated within my bedroom. I did appear to be happy. But if you look at pictures of me during this time, it is incredibly, terrifyingly visible how I was not occupying my physical body and the world around me.

Let's compare that photo of me in 2018 (16 years old) to a photo that was taken of me in 2023 (20 years old), happy and healthy post-healing from spiritual psychosis:

Notice the difference?

Directly after snapping out of spiritual psychosis, and being in a vulnerable state, I was taken advantage of.

This spiritual psychosis would dramatically crash down on a random Wednesday my sophomore year of high school. Both the friends that were related to my spiritual psychosis suddenly cut me off right before I realized it all wasn't real. I got off the medication that I was prescribed directly before my spiritual psychosis began. I woke up in the middle of the night with the sudden awareness that nothing I had experienced was real. It sent me into the worst depressive episode I've ever lived through. To this day, I struggle to describe to others the massive loss that I experienced when I snapped out of my mania. I quite literally grieved a family that I had built, my whole world, and my life got flipped upside down as everything I knew to be real was suddenly not. I was completely, totally alone, in a world that I was unfamiliar with, around people I hadn't known, in a body that I hadn't been in for months due to dissociation. It was the ultimate Tower moment. I had no idea who to talk to, how to ever trust myself ever again, let alone the intense guilt that suddenly plagued me from the sense of knowing that I hadn't found my twin flame, and I had been imagining sick and twisted fantasies of living my life with him.

I realized I was obsessive. I said goodbye to the spirit guide previously guiding me. I had a snow leopard guide for a few months, as I still connected with the idea of spirit guides, but strictly didn't allow her to tell me anything even remotely associated with religion. She was there for comfort, for guidance, and I will forever be thankful of this short-lived spirit guide's protection and care to help me to stay alive in my darkest night.

After stabilizing my mental health, I began to see a black wolf run alongside me in my dreams; the same black wolf I saw as a child. He was familiar, and I began to work with him. I immediately noticed a massive difference in how he communicated with me, versus how my spirit guide during my spiritual psychosis communicated with me. I began to learn healthy communication from spirit guides, and he would stay by my side even when I had no religious beliefs as I healed and reevaluated my entire morality and faith structure. I knew that he was a real spirit, and that I could trust him—he would tell me as it was, he wouldn't glorify, he would protect me from my own self. He was a voice of reason, and I understood quickly that he had been waiting for my previous spirit guide to depart to help walk me back to who I was before I experienced spiritual psychosis. He encouraged me to restart in college, follow my heart, and realize that high school was temporary.

And then I got a warning from him. The first time I'd ever received a warning from a spirit guide. A warning that told me I was about to be in deep, deep trouble.

I received my OCD diagnosis. I relied on my writing to escape, forced myself to try to make friends, but that was... unfortunate. I didn't know or understand how to make a good friend as a teenager; how could I, when I hadn't even been in my body for months? I'd only had friends in middle school, and I hadn't yet learned social dynamics as an autistic person. With all these factors, I was incredibly vulnerable. I was sadly taken advantage of by my abuser. I had maybe a six month gap in between spiritual psychosis and being forced into a relationship with an incredibly manipulative and life-threatening abuser. He would deliberately attack every aspect of my life that were already damaged and unsteady. I was nothing, and that is no exaggeration—I was only a writer knowing I wanted to survive solely so I would finish my book. Though I didn't slip back into spiritual psychosis, I was basically reduced to a body without a soul by this said individual as he had a plan to k*ll me. He'd get away with it morally, if I was worthless and better off dead, anyway.

And knowing that he was trying to make me nothing, I decided to fight. My spirit woke back up that day. I was suddenly alive again to survive.

So, yeah, I went through spiritual psychosis and then immediately got into a relationship with a psychopath with serial killer tendencies. I wish I was joking about that. That's my luck, y'all.

During this intense and severe trauma lasting over a year before I moved to college, I was protected by my black wolf spirit guide. He was a force of comfort, of wisdom, and I inherently understood in myself he wanted me to survive with my own strength. Not delusion; not escape; but instead the power within myself to stand up against my abuser, take hold of my life, and get out. He helped me in my discovery that I was a lesbian, and I would end up breaking up with my abuser for this reason.

I moved to college after about 6 months of healing at the end of high school from that previous situation. It was a massive restart, one that my wolf spirit guide led me to because of my newfound love for nature and its truthful guidance.

I had completely abandoned most of my spiritual and religious beliefs by the end of my senior year in high school. I fought out of my abusive relationship and stood back up, and with my anger and spirit reawakened, I decided I'd move for myself and get away from anything and everything that was connected to that damn state and my high school experience.

I instead learned to make friends when I moved to Colorado through nature and hiking. I began living my life authentically, healing my wounds through laughter and joy. I found my place in the trees, in the forests, by the river, in security. I switched my major to ecology and wrote poetry about the healing hand of nature itself. Though I wasn't religious, I would still do tarot readings with a new deck with my black wolf spirit guide. I trusted his wisdom, I trusted him not to guide me into delusion, as I understood he had been waiting for me to return to my childhood joy.

Quite literally, I found how to be a kid again. I found it in the Colorado snow, in a group of friends, in my autism/ADHD diagnosis. I fell in love; I fell out of love. I moved to Yellowstone National Park to honor my love for the wolf, and then last year to Alaska to become a naturalist. I got contracted by a literary agency for my writing. I went to a therapist every week for three years, working through each and every piece of trauma in high school. I got medicated for my OCD and ADHD and saw a massive improvement in symptoms. I found the divine in nature, began truly smiling, and healing my heart. I started to work out, became confident in my identities, and let go of labeling myself. I found my passion and purpose in teaching about nature's wonder and power. I started saving up and working toward getting a service dog to help with dissociation for my PTSD, and was successful. Each and every night, I'd work on reflecting through poetry. To this day, I have ~40,000 words of poetry documenting and detailing my healing journey, finding love within nature, and happiness in my own independence and self.

I spent an absurd amount of time not touching the mystical with a 10-foot pole, besides my one spirit guide, a deck of tarot cards, and sensing energies in nature itself. I found how to ground myself, how to balance my logic and emotion, how to discern daydreaming escapes from intuition. I redefined my intuition and how it felt. I completely separated from anything and everything to do with high school. It was critical to step away from my craft for a couple of years to fully rebuild who I was.

"So, was that really a spirit guide, then? How could I ever trust any spirit guide again?"

I struggled with this question for a very long time. I swung between wondering if that spirit guide was even real, or if I had made him up, too. I had experiences that I couldn't describe, and a spirit guide I trusted, and I would get confused and stumped.

I first learned to become thankful of that spirit guide during my psychosis. If I hadn't gone through that psychosis, I wouldn't have been alive. It was the only true way for me, at the time, to survive the circumstances I was in. My spirit guide was absolutely real, and he absolutely lied to me, too. But he did it to keep me alive, to allow me a glimpse of what I wanted—stability, strength, love, and family—in an unconventional way. It would motivate me to find my dream life. That spirit guide did what he knew best, and saved me. He understood that I was predispositioned to spiritual psychosis, and when I began slipping into it, he had a choice—he could either abandon me and leave me with absolutely nothing, or let me believe in what was making me happy and keeping me alive. And I said my thanks to this guide years later, but respectfully stated that I would never allow that sort of trickery and lies in my craft again, not when I understood myself, my purpose, and what happiness is to me.

Even later, I would learn that specific spirit guide was sent by Loki, one of the deities that has been guiding me for most of my life. At first, I was angry. I didn't want to talk to Loki, I was uncomfortable with the fact that he would do such a thing, but then I remembered that it was simply the only way to save my life, at the time, when I was already falling into psychosis without the guide's encouragement.

I further learned that my black wolf spirit guide, who had been with me as a child and left during my spiritual psychosis, could not be my guide at that time. Loki wanted me to trust this spirit guide. If my black wolf guide had been my guide at the time of my psychosis, I never would have trusted any sort of spirituality again, nor the wolf spirit that had been sent by my ancestors to protect me. His (wolf) purpose was to protect me, keep me safe, and guard me from delusion (rather that be my own or someone else's). Loki was forced to assign the not-wolf guide to me to keep me alive. Classic Loki, too, sacrificing the painful and deadly truth for the convenient lie. I respect Loki's decision, because I understand now.

Finding the divine in my life before and after psychosis: where are we now?

One of the toughest moves I would make would be listening to the energies of the deities calling to me. Loki would visit my dreams. I had been told by 3 different readers that Loki wanted to work with me. I had to learn how to even trust deities, as I could barely trust my own intuition considering how badly I slipped into psychosis before.

I started to see the divine before, and after, my psychosis, in the form of energy. Not the form that would talk to me and say things I didn't like; not the form that would invade my space; but instead the gentle energy surrounding me in moments where I was grounded and smiling.

I found Loki in my love and passion for storytelling. I found his essence lingering in the Alaskan rainforests, in the chaos of being a deckhand on the Pacific. I found his energy trailing in the form of the sheer chaos I've always lived in, in my deep desire for change. I found it in the laugher from others when I told stories, in the wild with orcas following our boats. I found his energy in my child self, prior to my psychosis, telling stories to my classmates and being my bold self, sticking out like a sore thumb but embracing it.

I found Aphrodite in my poetry, hidden in my heartbreak and deeply interwoven concept of romance. I found her in my love for the ocean as a child. I found her in the smiles of the first girl-friends that I had in my life, in going to a spa with them. I found her in my own sandy blonde hair, in my carefully-crafted prose surrounding a romance in my book.

I found my two wolf spirit familiars (previously, black wolf was my guide) in my excited passion over the wolf. In playing and having fun in nature. In family, in the understanding that I was never alone, and never could force myself to be alone. In the rain, in the trees, in my footsteps on dirt trails, in the smell of the river on a warm day. I felt their energies happily protecting me throughout my life, not forcing a belief onto me or immediately agreeing with one of my opinions, but instead protecting me and acting as holders of the truth.

I realized that my deities are not just new forces, but forces that have existed around me for longer than I can even remember. They are parts of me. I am a part of the universe, and so are they. I began to trust, understanding the signs and symptoms of spiritual psychosis. I recognized that not only was I much older, but medicated, stable, and happy. My spirituality wasn't centered around someone else, it was centered around my perception of the natural world and how special it was. I got into herbalism, deity worship, and at last stepped into who I wanted to be as a child. Not a delusional person in psychosis, but as a spiritual individual respecting my divine team and living my purpose of spreading the joy that nature brings.

What's the lesson to take from this?

The signs and symptoms of spiritual psychosis, and the recognition that anyone can experience spiritual psychosis. Also, that it wasn't all fake, and that the divine does have impact in all aspects of life.

You are never alone! Even if it feels like it, it will get better. You will find the strength, and though in one moment your life may feel worthless, healing is entirely possible.

It is possible to trust the divine again. Give yourself time. Let yourself heal. Ground. Find your truth, build your beliefs on the perception of reality. Do not be afraid to restart and run off to distant lands to heal—it works!

If you made it this far, thank you for reading this one hell of a story. I hope that this will help to inspire someone or reach someone who needs to hear it.

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 3

Pairing: Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW 18+, Oral (male receiving), Masturbation

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything remotely smutty... that should be a warning in itself. That being said I had so much fun writing this part and can't wait to see where my brain ends up taking this. Anyways, enough of me yappin. Enjoy :))

---

Vox couldn't help the smirk that crossed his screen as he watched your nervous form slowly approach his desk. Before he was able to speak again, he heard your tiny voice squeak out.

"M-Mr. Vox... Sir... I am so sorry for being late this morning. This is the first time that I've done this. I-It was an honest mistake and I promise that-" But before you could finish your sad excuse of an apology, Vox interrupted you by raising one of his hands.

"Y/N, it's quite alright! I know that you are always good about being on time," He said smoothly and laid back in his chair.

He watched as your anxious expression slowly turned into one of confusion.

"Oh... so you're not gonna feed me to your sharks?" You asked nervously, rubbing the back of your neck- trying your best to avoid any kind of eye contact. Vox must have thought you were joking by the way a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Did he not know that you were being dead serious??

"Oh quite the contrary! Please, have a seat," He said motioning towards one of the black, leather seats situated across from his desk.

You eyed him suspiciously before doing as you were told. Once situated in the chair, you got to take a good look at the TV demon in front of you.

You always thought that he looked good while passing him in the halls. But being up close, you were able to notice details about him that you didn't see before. One of those not so little details being that he was utterly handsome. How could a man with a TV for a face look so-

Vox caught you in your brief stare, causing a light blush to come across your cheeks. He sent a smirk your way and watched as you fidgeted in the seat.

Oh, he was loving every second of this.

"So if I'm not in trouble then... why am I here?" You asked quietly, not entirely sure you wanted to know the answer.

"I am so glad you asked! While going through some writing submissions, I came across the one that you submitted a while back-" At the mention of your work, your ears perked up- a mental victory for Vox, "- And I just wanted to start off by saying WOW! I am thoroughly impressed with what I read,"

You had to be dreaming.

No way this was actually happening.

"Are- Are you serious?" You asked with a beaming smile that made Vox's heart rate spike.

"Of course! You truly have a gift,"

The best part, he wasn't lying.

-- flashback to the previous night --

Upon arriving back at the VVV tower- Vox instantly went to look for your writing submissions.

He hired people specifically to go through and narrow down the best submissions of the month. The narrowed down bunch would then be sent to himself- for him to ultimately decide whether or not they're television worthy.

Sitting down at his desk, Vox quickly found your file. Much to his surprise, you had only submit one over the course of the years that you had worked for him. Regardless, he opened it and began reading.

Vox wasn't much of a reader but even he could tell that you were good at what you did. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Your words flowed beautifully into one another, captivating the overlord almost instantly. It was truly a sinister love story. A forbidden love between an angel and sinner. Oh and his favorite part?

Without a doubt- the smut.

But this wasn't your average porn script.

It was erotic yet, truly passionate. Vox didn't know how but, you were able to capture and convey the connection that the main characters had with each other. Hell, he felt it.

But like- actually felt it.

While reading the alluring words on one of his monitors, he began to palm himself through his tight dress pants. As he moved on, he found himself becoming more hot and bothered. Soon enough, he freed his stiff erection from the confines of his pants.

With a tight hand, he began a slow pace on himself. Vox felt truly immersed in the scene he was reading- maybe a little too immersed.

He imagined that it was you and him performing the scene- not the characters you had created.

"Her lips slowly wrapped around the tip, tasting the salty arousal that began to ooze out. She relished in the groan that her beloved ushered out above her. Ingrid's Y/N's lashes fluttered as she began to ease his my cock down into her throat. She pulled back fully- watching with seductive eyes as a string of spit connected the two of them us. Ingrid She placed both hands around Luca's my slobbery shaft and gave an oh so innocent look. Teasingly, she began to kitten lick at the tip. Before he I knew it, her mouth and hands began a delicious pace. Her head bobbed up and down with the added sinister twist and tug of her hands. She moaned quietly as Luca's my hands found a tight grip in her hair-"

Vox found himself panting slightly as his impending climax was about to release. He glanced down at the hand that was tugging at his rock hard cock. He groaned imagining you underneath his desk; looking up with fire in your eyes as your small hands moved along his length, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

He couldn't help but moan loudly as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips bucked furiously up into his hand- imagining it was your pretty mouth instead. He shuddered at the thought of you swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Vox felt himself blue screen before inevitably causing a blackout throughout the entire pride ring.

After coming down from what had to of been his most intense orgasm yet, Vox had all the information he needed.

He also needed to get rid of those damn submission reviewers.

-- back to the present --

"Wow Mr. Vox, that's very kind of you. Thank you sir, it truly means the world," You replied, trying your best to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"You deserve all the praise in the world Y/N," Vox said with a small smile. You felt yourself blushing again, not used to all this praise.

You also didn't fail to notice the tiny heart beat that occurred between your crossed legs, one that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You tell yourself it's because of how much your work matters to you. Definitely not the fact that your sexy ass boss is staring at you with a panty-dropping smile.

Yeah, definitely not that.

"I want to make that little script of yours into something more. It has all the potential to become a hit movie! That is of course, if you were interested," As soon as the words left Vox's lips, you shot up eagerly.

"YES! I- I mean yes. That would be a great opportunity for me sir," You down played how excited you were but deep down, you knew he could see right through you.

Vox couldn't help but think of how adorable you looked when excited. He wanted to make all your dreams come true if it meant he got to see you like this more often. Who was he kidding?

He already planned on making it happen.

"I am so glad to hear that," Vox rose to his feet and slowly walked around his desk to where you now stood.

You gulped lightly as he towered over your tiny frame. He examined your features briefly before extending his hand out.

"I can't wait to start working with you"

---

A/N: Sorry for this being short but the next few parts are in the works ;)

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

"It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago."

Umm idk if this is too personal but would you break down why you gave each marauder the line that you did?

For some reason, Sirius' really stuck with. Literally I can't stop thinking about it.

If there was an award for best ask anon, I think you would win!!! I love when people ask about the intricacies of my writing because I just feel like everything that I write is so deeply personal to me!

This will be quite long as I think the best way to tackle this is to address each one with its context and then how I relate it to each marauder. So buckle in!!!

Anything underlined is referencing my other writing and will be linked!

See the original post here!

James: Two lives cannot overlap - one must be forgiven to forge the other. 

So I wrote this about the rivers of the Underworld in Greek mythology, in a wider piece of writing on coping with grief. It refers specifically to the river Lethe, the river of forgetting, where souls drink from it to forget their life before being reincarnated. I have mixed feeling about James as a character - on one hand as a young boy he's incredibly privileged to the point of almost ignorance but then is forced into a war he cannot fight and reasonably win. In a way this line can be applied to James in two ways: 1) he had to grow up to cope with the rapidly changing world he'd been basically thrown into and 2) harry could never defeat Voldemort if his parents were still alive. James and lily had to die so harry would have nothing to lose.

Sirius:  It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago.

Okay so this was written in the same piece as above, in reference to a childhood memory. I cried for comfort but no one could come to me. No one chose to comfort me in that moment. I think we all have moments where we think 'I need my mum' or something similar but at it's core, its a plea for comfort - you want to be held, cradled, for the burden to be taken away. Sirius Black was denied affection as a child, denied love as an adult and then denied his life when he fell through The Veil. He had his friends as support but he also had to stare at James and Effie, Remus and Hope. He had moments where he needed parental love, where he felt like he would die without it. He was denied the chance to make sure Harry never experienced that, and when he did get the chance, it was ripped away almost immediately.

Remus: It is strange to cling onto remnants of someone who is no longer there.

This was written about losing someone and still having to live amongst their things. Everything is normal except the person is gone. It's describing that moment when you walk into a room and you feel their presence, like you're in the living room and it's so easy to convince yourself they're in the kitchen, but they aren't. The space they left behind is empty. I think with Remus, again it can apply in two ways: 1) himself - his whole identity is basically fed to him through the label of 'werewolf', the Order use him as a monster to tame a bigger beast. He is constantly mourning. In Hogwarts, he mourns his younger self. In the Order, he mourns the teenage, full of life, naive version of him. As an adult he mourns every version of himself - they trail behind him like a ball and chain. 2) everyone he loses - Remus outlives his best friends, and even the one he gets back, oh god he got him back but at what cost? Remus is a walking graveyard.

Peter: In every story, someone has to leave. This is not a burden taken lightly, nor is it one that can be shared.

I wrote this about Caesar and Brutus. When Caesar died, so did Brutus. As Brutus lives, so does Caesar. Today when one is mentioned, the other rarely goes unnamed. Brutus orchestrates the murder of Caesar because he fears his ambition and the ruin it will bring to Rome. Peter is both Caesar and Brutus. He fears Voldemort enough to do his bidding only because he's never had such power before. We see exactly how Peter's loyalty is manipulated - he felt more important to Voldemort then he did to his friends and so his loyalty changed accordingly.

Lily: The sunflowers turn to the light, but the sun will never recognise their presence.

Growth is difficult to justify in a non-physical sense. This was inherently about being an observer in my own life. We do things that have unremarkable impacts until one day the fallout of our actions are so grand we cannot outrun them. In terms of Lily, I do think in hindsight this may be more relevant to her characterisation moreso than her character. She is often represented as just a vessel to carry Harry and is overlooked as a complex character and a key member of the Order. James forgot his wand on the sofa - she protected Harry. She was an incredibly smart witch - she was, is, more than just her offspring. Treat her accordingly.

Regulus: One day we all realise that the first thing we lose is ourselves.

My earliest memory is a hospital visit and a funeral. We do not realise that the process of growth is intertwined with the ritual of loss. You are allowed to mourn the person you used to be. Death isn’t exclusive to those burned or bombed or buried. Regulus loses his brother then he loses himself. He has a role to play as the prodigal son. He is actively cutting himself open and stitching himself back up to fit seamlessly into the mould his parents have created for him. He watched Sirius fail, so he couldn't. Maybe he did believe in blood supremacy at first or maybe the whole thing was a ploy to try and grasp at the power and autonomy he'd grievously been denied his entire life. Regulus knew himself so well he'd buried the body undetectably.

Pandora: Nobody talks of death lightly. Nobody talks of what it tends to leave behind.

We obsess over death - how to prevent it, how to cope with it, how to be clinical about it. Yes a person dies and we are left with the aftermath - clothes, shoes, pictures, their tea in the cupboard, hair still in the brush. But obviously, a person dies. People are complexes - the most inherent part of death to me is how a person can just end. With Pandora, this sits within the realm of the HC that she is a seer. She must standby and watch the people she loves die twice - once in her head and once in real life. She must watch over her friends and loved ones and grieve them as she lives alongside them. To her, a heart is just a stopwatch.

Evan: He carried on with his journey but made time to be part of mine.

I met an old man who told me that at the end of the day, you do wish you could it all over again. That we are often ungrateful until we lose the thing, then all we want is to get it back. Evan Rosier cherished everything; his sister, his friends, his childhood. But this made him so weary of loss. He was possessive and sometimes cruel. He would do anything to keep what was important to him, even join a blood supremacy cult to keep his best friends and sister safe. When you die, they say you get seven minutes to rewatch the happiest moments. When Evan Rosier dies, he sees Barty and Reg and Pandora.

Barty: You can love something that does not exist anymore. Something that has never existed cannot be loved.

This one is slightly harder to explain. I believe it to be human nature to chase the things that we have only had a taste of. You cannot want something you do not know. Though I do wonder if this is more an act of conditioning than something inherently of nature. To cognise something is to give it a reality, whether this be a thought, an idea or a notion.  Barty Crouch Jr was a waste of potential. 12 OWLs. 4 languages. He could've been whatever he wanted. You can assume he was unsuccessful in fulfilling his potential - unless he wanted to be dead. And who can blame him with a father like that. Barty had to fabricate everything - would lick up his father's approval like a dog until the day he realised none of it actually mattered.

Dorcas: All prior things are made of shards, of tatters. All prior things look different in the daylight.

Past lives are just that. Past, nonexistent. Windows are walls. Shields are not always protective. Dorcas Meadows was hunted and slaughtered by Voldemort himself. She, obviously, was a threat. A smart, cunning, powerful witch who made the Dark Lord himself worry just how successful he'd be if she remained alive. But none of this mattered from the second she hit the floor, heart slowing down, eyes closing. She was not the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb. She wasn't even a sacrifice.

Marlene: One day I will sit in an urn, and I too will be smaller than the day I arrived.

I wrote this about not rushing through life. It was about savoring moments and people and the ephemeral. Marlene was the casanova - wanted by all but touched by few. Her bloodline dies when she dies next to her brother. Filled with potential and life, even the brightest stars will fade away. Sacrifice is often forgotten, drawn over, especially if it isn't grand. Not quite the brightest witch of her generation, nor pretty enough to get the one person she truly wanted.

Mary: I wonder if forgetting is betrayal or if it’s a favour, a privilege of rest.

I was wondering whether remembering people disturbed the process of dying. We don't know of an afterlife or what happens after you die. Does reminiscing drag a soul away from rest? I hold the HC that Mary obliviated herself near and dear. In this way, it's just another person coping with loss. I think because it's so deeply personal, it's very difficult to express in words.

Andromeda: We learn that just because one person escapes the inevitable, the other does not.

I wrote this about Orpheus and Eurydice. It's a story I adore and it's also often misunderstood. This is why it’s a tragedy, and why love often is a tragedy - loss is inevitable. In the case of Orpheus and Eurydice, he loved her enough to try and save her. He loved her so much that he couldn’t. Andromeda is the survivor - survives her upbringing, survives a war, outlives her family. She takes in Teddy even though he's a glaring reminder of her daughter and every moment of a past she tried to outrun.

Narcissa: Love is always a choice, even when we make the wrong one.

Again, this is from me writing about Orpheus and Eurydice. Their story was never about retrieval or righting a wrong. Even if Eurydice had been returned, she was a ghost. This was always a story about saying goodbye. Oh I could lament about Narcissa for days. She is her own greatest tragedy. She was the model child out of her sisters. She lived the ideal trajectory and suffered for it. Obedience and cunning were bred into her. She couldn't save her husband, her house, her sisters or her son. Narcissa lived her life always saying goodbye, wishing she could instead say 'stay'.

Bellatrix: Sometimes, it feels like I have been exiled from my life and no one has thought to tell me.

This was written about nostalgia, and living like a stranger in your own life. It's about the means and ways and things we do to gain some semblance of control back into our lives. Bellatrix has always been a very interesting character to me. She upholds her pure blood upbringing, marries a pure blood and yet she strives for more. She becomes a deatheater and makes herself so valuable to Voldemort, she becomes an intrinsic part of his inner circle. She outshines her husband and sisters - she is the patriarch.

Anon. I hope this answers your question! If you'd like further details on any of these please send me another ask or DM! I'd love to hear your thoughts instead of scribing mine!