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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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asap si

‘ASAP SI [English] to be shocked, be startled

Adult Neteyam returns home to find you’ve grown into a beautiful woman, and you’ve been keeping a secret from him all these years.

18+ | 1,177 words

My hands had begun growing tired, the joints in my fingers aching, but I still had a little time before my parents were expecting me home, and I could finish just a little bit more here at the mother loom.

Li’ei and Zoavey had been generous to allow me not only to use the mother loom, but to teach me. Between them, they possessed over 100 years of experience creating tapestries and cloths for our clan, and they were both held in very high regard for what they provided to our people.

“Y/N,” Li’ei chastised the next time I sighed under my breath, “go home. We must all rest.”

I sighed once more, feeling the thick, coarse fabric between my fingers. “I feel as though the job will never be done.”

Zoavey tsk’d at me. “It does not matter how long it takes - only that you do the job properly.”

Standing up, I nodded at the two elders. “Thank you for your time today. May I return tomorrow?”

Li’ei smiled. “Yes, darling.” I felt compelled to ask every day, even though they had made it clear they were training me so that I could take their place when the day came.

Touching my forehead and lowering my hand, I signed my respect to my elders, who had so graciously taken me under their wing, and quickly turned on my heel to make my way through our village back to my parents’ home.

The closer I got to the center of our village, to my home, the louder things seemed to be. It’s was always quite busy at this time of day, but this seemed to be something else; a commotion, almost.

As I neared the epicenter of home tree, my parents rushed to me, almost out of nowhere.

“Y/N!” my mother gasped, wide eyed. “Jakesully and his family have returned.”

The tools I was carrying fell from my hands, clattering on the ground. I should have bent and grabbed them, pay them the respect they deserve, but I am frozen to the ground.

Neteyam is home.

Suddenly, I am transported to five years ago. Once again, I felt Neteyam gripping my arms too tightly as he told me his family was leaving, and he didn’t know if they would return. He left, with so much left unsaid between us.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, and I forced them away.

“Where are they?” I asked finally, after a long pause that I knew my mother noticed.

She gestured to the fires, around which we cooked and ate our meals. I saw it then, the large crowd gathering, almost too large to push my way through - but I knew I had to try.

“Sorry, excuse me, sorry,” I repeated over and over as I wormed my way through the throng of bodies here to see Taruk Maktow and his family.

It’s was hard to believe it had been 5 years. After the Sky People left and Jakesully and his family didn’t return, we weren’t sure what to think - maybe they had died in battle, or found another clan they wanted to stay with instead.

I never gave up hope... but it was hard some days, especially with Ueku nearly relentlessly pursuing me the last two years to be his mate.

Ueku was one of the most desired of The People, our strongest hunter, and everyone was staring to look at me as if I had two tails - they could not figure out why I would not agree to be his.

And it felt so dumb to explain that it was because of a crush I’d had when I was fifteen, on someone I hadn’t seen since then.

It took much effort, but I finally made it to the front of the crowd, and saw them standing there.

Oh, they looked so different. All four children were taller, the boys had much broader chests and Kiri and Tuk had grown into lovely young women. I wanted to cry and rush forward to greet them, but they were being bombarded with welcome greetings.

I stood back, staring, and finally allowed myself to really look at Neteyam. His hair was longer now, halfway down his back and braided intricately, woven through with many beads and fine weaves. He was taller, as tall as his father, with strong shoulders and a wide, firm chest.

The sight of him made me feel light headed. I closed my eyes, and took a steadying, deep breathing.

“Y/N!”

Tuk called her name, and Neteyam snapped his head to see where his youngest sister was looking. Since the moment they’d arrived, his only thought was to find Y/N, his oldest and best friend.

Tuk took off from next to him, rushing towards a woman in the crowd who was almost unrecognizable. This beautiful woman lifted Tuk up in her arms effortlessly and hugged her tightly.

She was an angel. Her hair was impossibly long, and she wore a woven crown around her face to keep it out of her eyes. Her leggings were green, and he could tell the care and effort that went into making them. Tucked into them were various tools for use on the loom.

She looked tired, but her amber eyes were wide and full of joy. His eyes trailed down to her smile, ear to ear as she excitedly talked to his sister, her full lips spread across white teeth.

Ewya, was this Y/N?

Tuk was pulling her towards him now. He lifted his foot to take a step forward, but before he even moved an inch, Lo’ak had her in his arms.

“Y/N!” he shouted excitedly.

“Oh, Lo’ak!” she exclaimed, returning his hug enthusiastically. It made a quiet rage bloom in Neteyam’s chest, and he shoved it down quickly.

“Wow!” Lo’ak exclaimed, taking a step back, and Neteyam stepped up beside him. Lo’ak threw his elbow forcefully into Neteyam’s side.

Neteyam winced and grabbed his ribs as Lo’ak said, “Y/N sure grew up, didn’t she?”

“Well, we all did, Lo’ak. It’s been five years!” Y/N replied with a soft smile. Even though she was speaking, the beauty of her voice sounded like a song to Neteyam’s ears.

Neteyam raised his hand to his head, touching his fingers to his forehead, and lowered it as he took a step towards Y/N. “Y/N...” he said, but after all these years, words failed him.

He had spent countless nights thinking of Y/N, but never had he imagined her to have such an effect on him when he was finally able to stand in front of her. His mouth felt dry, and his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Neteyam,” Y/N said, returning the gesture. “I’ve missed you.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders, and after only a moment, he wrapped his around her waist. She even smelled lovely, like fresh tapestry and earth, and he took a deep breath.

He would savor this moment forever.

It was a while before I could get Neteyam alone, but I was determined. Something about the look of shock on his face when he first saw me gave me hope.

Had he been missing me too?

After we ate and the excitement began to die down a little as the singing began, I grabbed Neteyam and pulled him from the crowd, into the jungle.

We walked in silence for a while, until I found a familiar spot to sit. It was a large fallen tree next to a small pool of water. We could sit and dangle our legs, our toes just dipping in to the small pool.

“I missed you, Neteyam,” I said finally. Though I had been shy when Neteyam left, five years had made me bold. It felt as if I had to tell him how I felt, or I might stop breathing. “I thought of you often.”

Neteyam smiled, and though much about him had changed, his smile had not. “I missed you as well, Y/N. Lo’ak had to tell me I was not allowed to speak of you anymore... but I still did.”

I glanced away for a moment. “It’s been a long time. You might have... you might have found yourself a woman, while you were gone. I, uh, Ueku has asked me to be his woman, but I-”

Neteyam cut me off. “Ueku! Bah!”

I grabbed his arm, trying not to laugh at the disgusted look on his face. “I told him I would not. Well, that I could not. Neteyam, I have been yours since you left. I wanted to tell you, but you left so fast, I could not.”

His look of anger softened, and his eyes widened in surprise. “You would be my woman, Y/N?”

My lips spread into a wide smile. “I would.” My heart felt as if it might leap out of my chest, and my fingers trembled. I clasped my hands together to steady them.

Neteyam reached over and took my hands into his.

“I have thought of almost nothing but returning and claiming you for my own, since we left. Y/N, you have become more beautiful that I ever could have imagined, and one of our people’s most prized women. I would be honored to have you as my mate.”

The stars swam in front of my eyes, and I reached up and pulled Neteyam’s face to mine, capturing him in a kiss I had waited five years for.

He wasted no time, and lifted me up into his lap so that I was straddling him as he deepened the kiss.

“Teyam,” I moaned into his mouth.

“Paskalin,” he replied in a breathy voice, pulling me even closer to him. His hands roamed my body, up and down my back, and I pushed down onto him, creating friction between us that made him groan into my mouth.

He was kissing me desperately, feverishly, as if we would have to part for another five years after this.

I was equally as desperate as I pushed him back onto the mossy tree, and lay on top of him, stopping to look at him for just a moment.

“I should have come back sooner,” he said with a sly grin, and I laughed.

Leaning down, I pressed my head to his chest to hear his heartbeat - it was quick, to match mine.

“We have all the time we need now,” I whispered, and he wrapped me in a tight hug.

“I will never let you go again,” he whispered, his voice full of determination and reverence.

I believed him.

#avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #Neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar way of the water

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theindependenttrentcrimm · 18 days

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I want to talk about ace Eddie so I’m going to talk about ace Eddie! this episode was absolutely delicious and I know many many people will tell me that I’m reading too much into this and it is simply what the show said: his catholic guilt. Which is compelling enough already but stick with me.

ace Eddie is so so near and dear to my heart and I enjoy analyzing his arcs and his relationships through that lens. The fact that ABC allows characters to have these candid conversations is !!!

this episode in particular is delicious in terms of ace Eddie (I’m sorry, I’m not wording this wonderfully, it’s been a very bad pain day). He initially says to Buck:

“I got here early to avoid not having sex” and yes, the reason he gives is his catholic guilt. But I also just want to pay attention to the way he was speaking about it after revealing to Buck that he was avoiding being home. He was purposefully using vague, almost immature (in the sense of the way younger people take about sex) language and justifying himself by saying that Christopher was away, so they had time to themselves so naturally… it felt very much like this was how he was supposed to be feeling and what he was supposed to doing because his son was away because they had free time, the natural conclusion to him was that they would have sex.

he also says “Marisol likes to have it in the morning” which, granted, could simply indicate that he prefers it at other times but if we look at it through the perspective of ace!Eddie indicates that they have sex when Marisol wants to rather than when Eddie wants to (if he ever broaches the subject at all). This also lines up with the way he spoke about having sex with Shannon which primarily centered around her desires and his ability to fulfill them rather than his own wants and needs. The discussion with Bobby only further solidified this. He suggests that this is simply Eddie’s reaction to moving too quickly, indicating that there was very little that he had heard about Marisol prior to her moving in. Now, and again I recognize I may be reading too much into it, but for me the way they framed Marisol moving in by opening with them having sex, it reinforces this idea that for Eddie, sex is easy and expected and there’s a natural progression of a relationship that he’s meant to follow (mentioned in his conversation with Bobby). He’s meant to have sex, enjoy sex, ask a girl to move in with him etc.

at any point in time, he could have texted Marisol or gone back to the house and simply told her that he didn’t want to have sex with her just then. If he was seriously concerned that she would be upset or ignore him, that’s a different issue entirely. However, he has so much anxiety over sex and his own role as a man in a relationship that he ignores this idea altogether. He would rather avoid her all day than face the idea of coming home and not being able to provide sex. Sex that he doesn’t even necessarily want. I also think that’s why it’s so important to his character that his restarting with Marisol wasn’t predicated on a sexual encounter but rather on his own terms. It’s the first time that we’ve seen him take the time to say ‘maybe this isn’t necessarily something I’m ready for.’ And it’s WONDERFUL to see that.

Eddie’s relationships and his relationship to sex specifically is something that is incredibly fascinating to me because it screams amatanormativity and over compensating for something you’ve been told you should want and provide. Noted, I don’t necessarily like Eddie and Marisol and I certainly don’t like Marisol’s actress (I truly hope she leaves the series soon). However, I do like what this relationship is teaching Eddie about himself. I like that he’s slowing down and taking the time to think about what he wants rather than what’s expected of him.

#t rambles #911 #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #911 marisol #ace eddie diaz #and I will die on that hill <3 #you guys I may not have totally been in love with this episode but it’s a near thing #there’s so much to dissect and I’m sure so many people have done a much better job #I loved loved loved the henren storyline (side note) they’re such wonderful parents

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meadowscarlet · 2 years

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watercolor eyes ━━━ draco malfoy.

pairings: draco malfoy x fem!reader.

summary: it’s not your favorite thing to be stuck in a loveless marriage. much worse, being married to draco malfoy of all people, you despised and loathed him simultaneously, yet your heart craves for him while your mind opposes him and his entire persona. hopefully, you make clever decisions, or he’ll leave you with watercolor eyes.

warnings: arranged marriage, miscommunication, reader accuses draco of cheating, cursing and alcohol consumption.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

When your future was planned and finalized, life began to lose its significance.

How could you not have anticipated something like this would happen at some point? Your parents had been preparing you for this since you were a little girl, yet the whole arrangement still felt enraging and terrible. Such a dreadful thing yet you can’t be disappointed, it was bound to happen but nevertheless, it just seemed presumptuous.

You were enamored with the concept of love as a child. You’d always admired how your father and mother act around each other—their eyes sparkling with blatant devotion, sweet honey utterances, and the naked love so evident in their faces—and you’d always wished for that.

Someone who loves you as much as you love them.

But, as they say, life may very well be cruel. When you realize that you will soon marry Draco Malfoy of all people, your little fairytale of love is shattered. You wanted to scream, complain, and say vile things that your mother would have chastised you for, but you couldn’t. This was your life, and you had to suffer and live it regardless of the injustice.

It was mangled and atrocious. An arranged marriage isn’t something you want to be a part of; two people who have no love for each other, not even a smidgeon of passion for each other, but who are forced to be together in a golden cage. Strangers in a relationship were like sand in the winter air, entirely at odds.

You needed to be away from all this for a while. When your family and the Malfoys ate lunch together, you were incredibly tired of the sparkling wine, the unrealistic politeness, and the tension of a stupid grin. It was uncomfortable for you, and even Draco appeared uneasy as he ate slowly and cautiously.

You were now in Hermione Granger's—actually, Weasley's—comfortable and pleasant home, which she shared with her husband Ron. She greeted you with a beaming smile and a compelling hug right away, and a part of you felt glad for the warmth she provided as she welcomed you into their home.

“How are you doing?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of the tea she had made for the two of you.

You hesitated, your hand clutching your skirt’s edge. “If that’s what you’re wondering about, I’m perfectly all right.”

When Hermione observed you, she knew you were lying. You and her had been best friends for your entire Hogwarts year, along with Ron and Harry, but you felt the closest to her and vice versa, so she knew you were deceiving by the look on her face, which was like a frown, and the way she squinted her eyes.

“You’re lying,” she remarked as she placed the tea on the table, her voice knowing.

“No, I’m not.”

Hermione sighed. “Y/N.”

“Fine,” you didn’t intend to be mean, but it just came out of nowhere, but thankfully Hermione didn’t seem disturbed; she’s probably accustomed to it. “I feel… conflicted.”

She frowned, her face deep in contemplation. “Does this have anything to do with your marriage to Malfoy?”

“Arranged marriage,” you corrected almost spitefully.

Hermione’s face had a pity look on it, which you didn’t like to see. She was well aware of your animosity for Draco; you’d rant about it all day in your dorms and even in the Great Hall, with Ron chiming in with a few supportive remarks. Even after the battle, you still despise the man you’re supposed to be entangled with.

It didn’t make any sense; Draco was the least suitable person for you to marry, and he wasn’t the sort of bloke you expected to be with. You were a pureblood Gryffindor, and it didn’t seem like a good match to be with someone as arrogant and conceited as Draco, who shamelessly flaunted his Slytherin pride in your years at Hogwarts, rubbing it in your face.

In comparison to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he didn’t harass or taunt you, but there were insults and sarcastic remarks about you, though they never went deep; you were resentful and petty, so you chose to detest him. When he’s at the back of the class, he’ll mostly tug at the ends of your braids, or he’ll mess with you in your free time and take up all of your time instead of doing what you want because of his irritating presence.

“I’m not justifying him, but don’t you think your hatred for him is a little insensitive?” With a shrug, Hermione continued, “He already apologized and even helped us in the war.”

Your eye twitched, possibly in irritation. “It makes no difference. I’m not interested in marrying him.”

“Can’t you just call it off? Perhaps if you told your parents, they’d understand.” Hermione suggested, her eyes lighting up.

“This is what they want for me, Hermione,” you stated grimly, your voice devoid of any hope. “And this is what I was conditioned to believe, that it’s for purebloods to have arranged marriages, but I’m confused…why Draco of all people?”

The door to Hermione’s house opened and footsteps emerged before she could say anything. Then someone—Ron—came into the room they were in. When he saw Hermione, he grinned broadly and looked relieved. Then when he saw you, he was taken aback but enthusiastically embraced you with a short hug.

Ron questioned, his freckles prominent on his face, “What are you doing here?” with a little grin. “Are you doing the therapy thing with Mione?”

Hermione appeared aloof, but her eyes shone with mirth. “I taught you the word therapy, and you use it every time Y/N visits here.”

You chuckled for the first time in a long time. “Maybe he’s right.”

Ron sat alongside Hermione in the couch across from you and laid his arm around her with a familiar knowing expression in his eye. “Malfoy?” he said, humor crossing his face.

You gave a tired sigh. “The one and only.”

You three conversed until it was past noon. You felt out of place and envious when you and your friends were conversing. You had yearned for the kind of love Ron and Hermione had. You’d watch Ron kiss Hermione’s cheeks or Hermione gently stroke Ron’s hands with a glimmer of longing in your eyes.

While you were passively observing, possibly in resentful longing, their eyes gleamed with genuine unconditional love, but you knew you could never be like that with Draco. You felt like you were outside a transparent glass, and Hermione and Ron were inside of it; you could see but not feel it. It’s so gruesome not to be bestowed with love. But you were ecstatic for them since they were happy with one other.

But what about you?

Maybe it was the occupants’ moods, or maybe it was just you, but the Malfoy manor felt cold and miserable. It finally occurred, the worst thing that could have happened was that you were already married to Draco. You were bound to one other not by love, but by iron chains, which encompassed you and forced you to be together.

Your love for each other was brittle, and you could see Draco was doing his best; he was impersonal, to be certain, but he attempted to communicate with you, albeit his tone was contrived and stiff. After your wedding kiss, he never touched you again; you remembered how frigid but soft his lips were on yours, but you despised the sensation of something fraudulent.

Like Hermione said, he changed, but your perception of him hasn’t altered at all. Draco, on the other hand, never mentioned what occurred at Hogwarts, about the taunts and insults, and neither did you. Now you were living in the Malfoy manor, a frigid place that didn’t seem friendly to you despite Narcissa’s warm greetings, and your room’s bed was cold, dismal, and exhausting.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Draco had said as you stood there, in your shared room, wary of the enormous single bed, hugging yourself since the chilly air was caressing your skin since you were only wearing a flimsy nightgown.

You didn’t say a word, not even a nod. You didn’t even look at Draco since the silence was so uncomfortable, enough that you went to bed and drew the covers over your body. You heard his sigh, which was most likely frustration, but you didn’t care as you closed your eyes and focused on oblivion.

And now you were in the bedroom, there in bed, reading with a tiny amount of light, half of your body covered by the comforter, and for the first time you felt peaceful, Draco wasn’t here, and strangely you felt comforted in the cold room’s isolation.

Most likely, you were brutalizing yourself. If you’re reading a romance novel and envisioning things occurring to yourself rather than fictional characters, you may have gone mad. However, as the familiar scent of Draco’s fragrance flooded your nose as you read about romanticism, the tranquility didn’t stay long.

Though you had uttered words—short and forceful—you did mostly ignore him in the months since you last spoke. Maybe you were being abrasive, because Draco was doing everything he could to make the marriage work, most likely to please his parents, but why couldn’t he just accept that he couldn’t make something like this work?

When you felt like the manor was suffocating you, you’d go out and see Hermione and Ron, or even Harry and Ginny. You’d stay in their homes since it was warm and welcoming, and it felt more like home than your own. You had wished for a household full of love and cheerful laughter more than anything else.

The words in your book were starting to lose their interpretation, and your thudding thoughts were distracting you. It’s just that you can’t help but feel betrayed by the injustice; you may consider yourself a lovesick, but you always wanted to experience that as a child, but life could be callous, and all you wanted was to love and be loved.

Like a frothing serpent, a sudden thought hissed through your mind. The idea of learning to love Draco popped up. You didn’t like the concept but you won’t deny you feel melancholy to him, on how his eyes always follow you whenever you attend pureblood events, on how he’d mutter if you’re alright, lingering his hand on your waist when you’re talking to other people, not quite touching.

You frowned and shook your head, attempting to focus on the words in the books and ignoring the yearning for something you shouldn’t even crave for.

Draco arrived at the manor quite late. His steps were a little unsteady, and his eyes were a little unhappy. He’d been out drinking with his friends Theo, Blaise, and Pansy, and the alcohol had apparently rushed into his system, causing him to become inebriated as he stumbled into their room.

Despite being slightly intoxicated, he entered the room discreetly, his gaze softening when he saw you. You were nearly buried in the bed, looking unusually troubled yet content as you read a book. You hadn’t noticed him yet, or perhaps you were ignoring him as you always were.

It bothers him or, more likely, his ego. He was well aware of your hatred for him until now, as evidenced by your pretty face, and perhaps he couldn’t blame you. He felt a pang of cynicism, though, because despite his apology for his actions during your Hogwarts years, you still didn’t like him. It was difficult to act as if he didn’t care about you and that he despised the whole thing as much as you did.

You eventually noticed him, and your enraptured eyes widened in surprise as you closed your book and clutched the duvet against you, as if trying to hide from him. Draco’s breath got caught in his throat as he realized how beautiful you were. Your face contorted into nothingness for a brief moment, almost delicately concerned. Draco was undecided as to whether he was disappointed or amused.

“Draco,” you finally acknowledge him, still unable to get out of bed. “…Where were you?” Your tone was disinterested, but at least you were talking to him.

He swayed slightly as he approached you, and he could see the apprehension in your eyes. “Hello, my wife,” he almost slurred, watching your face change with emotion. “Did you miss me?”

As Draco’s eyesight became fuzzy, you shook your head, your face unreadable. “Are you drunk?”

He chuckled as he proceeded to loosen his tie, completely oblivious to the fact that your eyes were drawn to the movement. “You seem concerned about my wellbeing.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be daft.”

Draco only chuckled as he proceeded to the couch, shaky feet almost tripping him up, as he grunted and fell on the couch, you hesitantly got out of bed and moved closer to him. Your feet were light, and your breathing was quiet, and Draco concentrated on that, his back straining from his couch position, and his eyes blinking furiously.

“You’re drunk,” you said almost monotonously as you tentatively approached him and stared down at him.

“Oh really? I didn’t notice,” Draco muttered, his eyes almost drooping as he placed his arm over his eyes as if to prevent your being in his gaze.

“Did you have fun?” you sarcastically questioned, your arms crossed across your chest, the cold nipping at your delicate skin.

Instead of responding ordinarily, Draco opened his eyes, withdrew his arm, and gave you an euphoric look as his gaze wandered about you. He asked, gesturing to your hair, “Is your hair braided?”

You scowled and consciously touched your hair, which was braided but had become practically tangled in the hair ties since you had lay on the bed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said as you started removing the hair ties from each side of your braid.

“No,” Draco exclaimed abruptly, leaping to his feet and snatching your wrist, halting your motions. “Don’t remove it…”

In your impeccable face, you had a surprised expression. Despite the swirl around him and his blurry vision, Draco could see the glint of affection in your eyes as you glanced at him. Draco would have cursed himself and probably regretted it, but he didn’t.

He took his hand from your wrist and gently tugged one of your braids in your hair, almost fondly, perhaps because he was intoxicated, but he couldn’t stop himself.

It frightens him.

Draco could tell your expression was impenetrable as you both stared for a while, his hand lingering over your braid. Because you were so motionless, he was certain you weren’t breathing. A flicker of something flashed over your face, then vanished as fast as it appeared. You took a hasty step back and narrowed your eyes at him.

He could only look at you, his hand hovering over the spot where you were only a moment earlier.

You sniffled. “You smell different,”

Draco was taken aback and questioned, “What?”

“You have the smell of a woman’s perfume.”

“What?” he asked again, completely baffled.

Your face was blank. “Did you really have fun?”

Your tone was accusing, your face was completely empty. But there were tears in your eyes, shimmering like lovely flecks of crystals, but they weren’t dropping, and it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you stop your crying. But it was evident in the silence that you were implying that he was cheating, and that thought was partially ridiculous.

Draco was well aware of your irrational hatred for him, but he had no idea how poorly you regarded him. Since you were ignoring him and acting as if he was invisible, he went out to spend time with his friends. He’d talk to his friends about his feelings and frustrations while drinking. Perhaps he smelt different because Pansy hugged him, platonically, and she’s dating Blaise for Merlin’s sake, maybe her aroma clung into Draco.

But the prospect of you dismissing his improvements or simply making him feel like shit made him say something, which he quickly regretted. “Do you blame me if I did?”

You froze, your eyes wide, and the misery on your face was palpable.

“You’re so fucking hard to love,” Draco continued, his mouth acting as if it had its own brain, and perhaps his inebriation was assisting him in saying things that struck you.

Draco’s voice was shaky and he staggered, collapsing against the couch and quietly grunting. He couldn’t read your face, and he didn’t really want to see your reaction, but he felt satisfied when he said that. The impact of the fall jarred his back, and he could hear shuffling.

You practically hissed, “Get up.”

Draco had a baffled expression on his face and exclaimed, “What are you doing, wife?” as you grabbed his arm and practically yanked him away from the couch.

Then you let go, and Draco sank into the bed’s soft cushion. Draco was rather hefty, so you let out a sigh of relief. His eyelids were droopy, but he had a mischievous grin on his lips as he made himself comfortable in bed.

“Are we—?”

“Sleep,” you demanded as you walked over to the other side of the bed, noticing Draco peering at you stupidly out of the corner of your eye. “What?”

“You’re going to let me sleep in the bed?” he asked, still completely baffled.

You felt compelled to smack him. “Would you rather sleep drunk on the couch?”

You grabbed a pillow and placed it between you and Draco, creating an internal barrier. As you fixed your side and the pillow, you could feel his eyes on you. You didn’t look at him once.

“There. So we’re still separated,” you replied nonchalantly as you lay down on your side.

“We’re already separated enough, don’t you think?” Draco mumbled sleepily.

You didn’t respond since you could hear soft snores next to you. Draco had already fallen asleep, leaving you alone in the dark, cold night, on the opposite side of the bed, with humid and sorrowful thoughts. You thought you were stupid, and perhaps you are, because you were being harsh and a brat.

You were in the garden at the time. It was lovely but bitterly chilly outside, and while you weren’t inside where Blaise and Pansy's wedding was taking place, you couldn’t help but crave some fresh air.

Despite the fact that they are both purebloods (which was almost likely set up as an arranged marriage) you can see they are much in love with each other. The way they stared at each other, sparkling crystal eyes with particles of devotion. You let out a tired sigh, oblivious to the fact that the door to the garden’s outside was opened and a figure stepped out.

“I figured I’d find you here,”

You fixed your gaze on the person. “Draco.”

He gave you a tentative smile and sat down on the bench next you, but not too close. At the same time, you were dissatisfied and relieved.

“I didn’t think Blaise or Pansy would settle…” you began hesitantly.

The sound of Draco’s chuckle was nearly pleasant in your ears. “They’re confusing. They break up and then get back together. I’m as surprised as you are.”

You discreetly remark, “They must really love each other.”

Draco remained silent and only gazed at you. You looked stunning, with the moonlight illuminating your features. Your outfit was lovely as well, but it was short and suggestive, causing you to shiver. He didn’t spend any time shrugging his coat and slung it over your shoulder, completely disregarding your protest.

“You look beautiful,” he says mindlessly. “But you’re cold.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, nearly frowning; was there a double meaning there?

“No problem, wife.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

Draco smirked fiendishly, but there was distress in his eyes. “You’re my wife, aren’t you not?”

“It must be a burden.”

His smirk had vanished, as if he had been smacked. “Well, if it’s a burden, then I’m willing to bear it,” he murmured.

Something was moist in your eyes, but you blinked rapidly. You could feel Draco getting closer to you, but you didn’t say anything. You were overwhelmed, your heart ached, and you desperately wanted to pull Draco closer to you, but you were initially reluctant.

“Draco—“

Draco abruptly grasped your freezing hands in his warm ones, lifted them to his lips, and kissed your knuckles; he didn’t remove them thereafter, instead staring at you with piercing eyes. You felt torn as your breath became stuck in your throat.

“Don’t say anything unless you say you want this marriage between us as badly as I do,” he murmured, brushing your knuckles with his lips.

You were on the verge of gaping at him. “You wanted this?”

“Of course I did.”

“I assumed you didn’t like me and that all the affectionate gestures you made were all a ruse,” you added almost incoherently.

Draco pointed out, “You were the one who loathed me.”

Feeling guilty, you shut your eyes. “Shit. I wasted many months.”

“We both did,” Draco murmured, releasing your hand only to play with the ends of your hair, a smile hidden. It was a braid, to be specific.

“I’m deeply sorry, Draco.” you said. “I’ve always thought of you as a fiend and the bane of my existence, knowing that you can’t take love seriously. And I was so wrong; I was so focused on myself and my selfish desire to be loved that I was blinded to the fact that it was I who was sabotaging your efforts to give me what I wanted.”

Draco tugged on your braid with tenderness, and you smiled.

He almost begged, “Just tell me you’ll start to love me.”

You turned around to face him, then kissed him after closing the gap between you—things that had previously separated you, the barriers had finally been broken down. Before Draco could react, he stiffened and drew you closer by the waist.

You mumbled into his lips, “I already started, simply blinded that it took me so long to know.”

You were now loved—you could feel it, even taste it, and it felt good—and you knew it. Your heart would no longer ache, and you would no longer shed longing tears for someone. Tears of color, droplets on the palette, it’s no longer there. The only thing that mattered was Draco and his touch.

“Oh my Merlin,” A man’s voice groaned. “Did I miss something?”

You broke apart and began flushing. You gave a surprised squeak as you stared at the man. It was Ron, and you couldn’t tell whether he was amused or repulsed by his face.

“Perhaps an invitation,” Draco drawls as he shields your face from Ron’s gaze and cradles your head against his chest. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

You smacked his sides and muttered into his chest, “Be nice.”

“You were too focused on Y/N, it’s disgusting.”

Draco remarked almost smugly, “She’s my wife, I can stare at her for as long as I want.”

“Perhaps the therapy with Hermione was helpful,” Ron rolled his eyes as he began to walk away.

Draco was dumbfounded, but you just laughed.

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 17 days

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What are your thoughts on Frederick and Nichole?

Short Answer: I like them. I think the depth they will provide to Tamarack's story will be fascinating and I look forward to seeing them both grow as characters and begin rebuilding that relationship as parents as well as apologizing for being such lackluster ones.

Long Answer:

The Baumann family drama makes me unwell. It really is providing something we haven't really seen in the OL universe. We have family drama, don't get me wrong. We have Cliff and Kyra's divorce and co-parenting, and if you get the DLC for Step 3, you even learn about the full details of that divorce and the terrible foundations their relationship had.

We never get to see Baxter's parents but we know from his own words that they're not the best people. He also admits that if weren't their son, he would never be on the receiving end of the grace they've extended to him.

But we've never had something like Tamarack's family dynamic. We've got parents and grandparents in the picture! As a couple, Frederick and Nichole are solid. They chose one another, they just also less-than-intelligently chose to have a child before wrapping up their academic careers.

And I think some of the reason Frederick and Nichole are so divisive as characters is because of how realistic it seems. Dorothea shoving all the blame onto Nichole, Frederick finding his parents and keeping up with them a chore, Ernst's passivity all but co-signing his wife's views on their daughter-in-law and Nichole mixing up her priorities in her pursuit to prove herself to herself and the rest of the world. Then you have Tamarack wrapped in all of that when she never asked to be.

The independent but lonely wild child. The wild child that grows into someone with none of the confidence she had as a 10 year old. And who truthfully feels like no one really cares about her, especially not when she actually needs them (that is unless the player becomes a source of comfort for her).

It's one big mess that needs to be solved.

Frederick and Nichole interest me because of the way their minds work. They wanted Tamarack and wanted to have a family they felt would be better than the ones they came from. I think there's a lot of realism to be found in that. Plenty of people have kids whether planned or otherwise and go 'I'll never be like my parents!' only to end up exactly like their parents or maybe even worse in some ways.

But since this OL, we all know things are going to work out. Every other character with a bit of family drama gets a happy conclusion.

Cliff and Kyra are great co-parents.

Baxter is low-to-no contact with his family.

So I think we can all rest assured that the Baumanns are going to reach their own happy conclusion. It might not be perfect and realistically those who dislike each probably won't just start kicking it and being all kumbaya with one another. However comma, the end result will be something a lot better than what it was.

Tamarack's obviously never going to go back to living with her parents because the game is taking place squarely in Golden Grove but her relationship with her parents' will get better. Everyone in the Baumann family is going to grow in their own way and as a collective and I look forward to seeing that.

If everyone had super great families in the game, don't get me wrong we could still have compelling and moving characters but having varying familial dynamics makes the game more interesting and less static. Everyone's got their own thing

Aside from Tamarack having a gorgeous design, her family's dynamic is probably a huge part of why I can never give the girl a run where I'm mean. The most I do is click on a mean option to see what her reaction will be before rewinding to the option I actually want.

Like I said, I'm physically incapable of being mean to Tamarack, it's a curse.

Meme Answer: They're both hot. And complicated.

#look she's answering #anon #our life #our life: now & forever #olnf #tamarack baumann #frederick baumann #nichole baumann

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bookshelf-dust · 22 days

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Hii love!! I absolutely LOVE your works and was wondering if you could write a fic where Billy finds the readers s/h scars and asks about it? The reader kinda opens about why they did and Billy is super confused about why you would purposely hurt yourself, but he swears to himself he’d never let you do that again?? If not, that’s perfectly fine, i know this topic is pretty sensitive to people🤍🤍

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,513

warnings: SH trigger warning!! please heed that. mentions of self harm (specifically cutting), scars described, areas on skin. all scars are healed and reader has recovered. please do not read this if this will make you uncomfortable. this is meant to be comforting and let you know that things do get better. it is about acceptance and change.

a/n: anon!! thank you for this idea. i just want to put it out there that i’m not taking requests for the foreseeable future, and haven’t been for quite awhile, but i got sent this and i felt really compelled to write it because it’s something that’s important to me. i felt like i could do it justice, at least a little bit, and i really hope that it will provide you with some comfort. this is something close to my heart, and my goal here is that it will reach someone the right way and encourage them to keep going. i love you all so much!! please go easy on me as i’ve never written anything like this before. also did a bit of a different format! anyway, mwah! 🥰

————

Billy knows you’re shy. Of course he does.

But he wants you to feel as comfortable with him as he does with you. He’s never felt as relaxed and safe as he does when he’s around you. Hell, he’s never allowed himself to let his guard down in this way.

Inviting you to sleep over was his olive branch, hoping you’d have a space where you could be fully you. He has the house to himself, and he knows that will help ease your anxiety. All Billy wants is to give you all that you’ve given him. And maybe more.

Billy had just stripped, pulling on sweats and an old t-shirt, not caring whether you saw him in his underwear. He’s yours anyway. Sure, you haven’t gone very far in your relationship, but he still wants you to see how comfortable you’ve made him. He’s never done this casual intimacy thing before.

“I’ll be just a second, okay?” You give him a gentle smile, feet softly padding against the worn hardwoods, sleeve brushing the door frame as you walk by.

Billy watches you walk out of his room with your pajamas tucked under your elbow. “Okay, baby.”

He busies himself while you’re gone, straightening the bed, finding the tv remote. (He’d never be allowed to roll it into his room if he weren’t home alone.) He figures you’re taking your makeup off too, maybe doing something with your hair, and heads to the kitchen to make some popcorn for you both to share.

In the bathroom, you take a deep breath as you pull on your nightgown. You don’t pride yourself in having nice or fancy things to sleep in, but you felt like bringing this with you because it’s one of the few things you own that makes you feel pretty. Something about a freshly washed face and the soft fabric make you all…content.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. The gown is not tight by any means, and actually a color that brings out your eyes. It has little bows on the sleeves and a tiny strip of lace at the hem. You don’t tend to dress for anyone but yourself, but you do think Billy will like this. Some part of you craves that feeling.

He’s never even seen your legs before, much less your collarbones. And not because you’re trying to be modest, but because it’s been cold and any other opportunity hasn’t presented itself. Showing someone so much of yourself is harder than you anticipated. And you anticipated quite a bit of work.

You inhale and exhale deeply, shaking out your arms. You can’t help but be nervous. You’ve never slept over with a boy before. But it’s Billy. Your Billy. What is there to be worried about?

Billy returns to his bedroom shortly after you’ve sat down and queued up the movie for you both to watch. You take the popcorn he offers you, the socks that are much too big, and snuggle into the worn pillows propped up against his headboard.

You’re sitting too far away for Billy’s liking, munching on your snack and trying to focus on the beginning of Nightmare on Elm Street as if you haven’t seen it over ten times. His eyes can’t stop dragging over your bare legs. This is the first time he’s seen them, and he wants you and all that skin closer.

“Baby,” he drawls.

You can feel his big blue eyes on you, but for once you really are paying attention. “Yeah?” you hum, licking butter from the tip of your thumb.

You don’t even look over at him, and Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. The noise prompts you to spare a glance in his direction, but he’s already got an arm wrapped around your thigh, yanking you across the sheets until you’re pressed against his side.

He tries not to convey how excited he is that he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, how soft your inner thigh feels. He frees you though, laughing at the “Oomph” you let out before settling yourself more comfortably.

You swing your leg over both of Billy’s, handing him your popcorn remains and resting your head on his shoulder. He happily sticks his hand in your little bowl, eating what you’d left behind.

As the movie progresses and Billy finishes all the popcorn, you shift further and further into him. It makes Billy so happy to see you act so comfortable around him. This is everything he was hoping for. He sets your empty bowls on his side table and wipes his hands clean with the wet rag he’d brought with him.

You’re engrossed in the movie, laughing every now and then at something you shouldn’t find funny, or clutching at Billy’s fingers when you get stressed out during a tense moment.

God, he’s so happy to be with you. If he could make this night last forever, he would. Billy kisses the top of your head and wraps an arm around your back, his hand coming to rest on the top of your thigh. You don’t think much of the gesture, only feeling a shiver run down your spine at the contact. At his warm hand on your skin.

Your skin.

Your nightgown has ridden up a bit, and suddenly you register exactly where Billy’s hand is. You take a deep breath, hoping he won’t rub your thigh and feel what you’ve avoided showing him for so long.

You try not to worry, try to keep your focus on the movie, but you can’t. Your bubble has popped. You want to adjust your nightgown, but you’re afraid to draw more attention to the area, afraid to offend him and make him think you don’t want his touch.

Billy’s thumb starts to stroke back and forth on your skin. You can feel the exact moment he registers that it doesn’t feel the way it should. The way your arms do, the way the soft backs of your hands do when he takes them in his.

You feel him sit up slightly, crane his head to look at you. At your thigh.

Upon touching your leg, Billy had expected smooth skin. But he met ridges. Bumps. Lines of raised skin. He knew that wasn’t normal, and it sent a surge of curiosity or maybe even concern through him.

What he sees confuses him. What happened to your leg?

“Baby? What’s that?”

He’s sitting up fully now, prompting you to do the same before you fall against the bed.

The longer he looks at it, the more confused he gets. There are scars on your leg. They’re not big, but there are a lot of them. So many that it’s scaring him. Some thin, some thicker. Different shades of scar tissue and scratched skin that never returned to its original state.

They aren’t fresh, no, not at all. They are all healed. But he’s so confused because he’s gotten lots of cuts and bruises throughout his life, and they’ve never looked like yours do. They don’t look like a normal injury does. These look…deliberate. And he doesn’t understand.

You turn around and sit on your knees. I guess it’s now or never, you think. If you don’t tell yourself that, you’ll probably throw up. And if you hadn’t moved so far past this, you’d feel even worse.

“They’re scars,” you say, rubbing your elbow.

Billy flicks your knee, mainly because he doesn’t know how to react, his other hand rubbing down his face. “No shit.”

Your heart is pounding despite the fact that this is something you have long overcome and are not ashamed of. Even still, there is a part of you that hopes he won’t be disgusted with you. It’s the same part that hasn’t let the relationship go as far as you’d like it to.

“I put them there.”

Billy blinks. Even if some part of him knew that’s where this was headed, he still can’t wrap his head around that. “What?”

His eyes dart to your leg again, wondering if the scars are more extensive than what he can see. He’s scared of how badly you’ve hurt yourself. If he’s not careful, his eyes will glaze over.

“A few years ago. You know how I’ve mentioned my depression and anxiety? And how I have medicine? How it was hard for me to go on dates with you at first or how sometimes I get standoffish?”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Well, you’ve been really good at reassuring me and understanding my panic attacks and stuff, and I’ve gotten a lot better at managing these things. But before all of that, before how I am now, I had no one. I was all alone, and I couldn’t deal with my feelings. So I took it out on myself. I started cutting myself as a way to cope.” You hate to admit all of this, but he deserves to know.

You start fidgeting with your fingertips and break eye contact with him. Billy’s lips have formed a stern pout, his brows knitting together in a way that shows he’s trying to understand you. To him, he really is just trying to comprehend this. But to you, that’s the look of shame you’ve been awaiting. You don’t want to be looked at that way.

You sit on your hands and stare at a string that’s come loose from your worn-in comforter.

“Anyway, I didn’t have anyone to help me. I couldn’t talk about how sad and lonely and angry I was, and I certainly wasn’t ready for a doctor. I kept it all in, figuring it was safer that way. But that got to me, and I chose to take it out on myself. There.” You touch your thigh. “Here and here.” Your fingers brush your stomach and hip. “Here too.” Your forearm. I know it’s horrible, but that’s what I chose to do. And I wouldn’t ever want someone else to choose that.”

“I didn’t want to die, I just wanted the hurt to stop. I needed an outlet for all of those suffocating feelings, and that was what I did. Hurting myself helped me feel better because at least I was expressing something. And I was able to punish myself for being so unlike everyone else. So quiet, so hard to love, so different.”

Your heart is pounding but you steal a quick glance at Billy. He can’t fight the emotion from showing on his face anymore. He feels his eyelashes getting thick with tears that are threatening to spill at any moment.

“I know this is probably hard to understand. I know you might be disgusted with me. But I guess it’s better that you know, right? I should’ve been more open about it with you sooner to avoid it being so…complicated.”

You stop, not really knowing what else there is to say. You’re hoping that this will encourage him to say something. Anything. You’d be happy to answer a question at this point.

Billy brings the hem of his shirt up to wipe his eyes. You wince, feeling awful for making him emotional over this.

He takes a moment to try and wrap his head around what he’s just heard. He’s had a habit of self-medicating with alcohol, with cigarettes, hell, even ego lifting shit he shouldn’t at the gym. But everyone copes differently, right? You wouldn’t do what he does. He wouldn’t do what his dad does.

He just can’t bear the thought of thinking that someone would physically do that to themselves. That you, his perfect girl, would be feeling so low that you’d make yourself bleed just in search of relief from the pain. He can’t understand it, but at the same time, he sees that it comes in different forms.

Billy reaches out for your hands, waiting for you to take them. The pressure behind your eyes immediately softens at the gesture.

“Don’t apologize to me, okay? I’m just trying to process.” He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your warm skin.

“Okay.”

He kisses each of your knuckles in turn, maintaining eye contact all the while. He straightens, not letting go of your fingers. “I don’t like to think about you being in any sort of pain. Imagining you doing that to yourself…fuckin’ breaks my heart.”

You tilt your head, scanning his face. He’s hurting for you, and you want to take it away. “It’s okay, Billy. I’m so much better now.”

“But I wish that I’d known you when you were hurting so damn bad. Y-you were alone, and I’m angry that no one was there to pull you out. I would’ve helped you.”

You squeeze his hands. “Billy, baby. I wouldn’t have let you help me.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“Because I didn’t want to get better. I was comfortable in an endless cycle of hurt, and I had to be the one to finally change something.”

Billy leans forward until his forehead is resting against your chest. “I’m so sorry that you had to deal with that, and I know you sure as hell don’t want my pity, but I just can’t have you ever be in pain.”

You weave your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. “I know, Billy. I’m okay, I promise? I’ve worked really hard to be okay.”

He straightens, cupping your face. “God, I know you have. I’m never gonna let you hurt like that again, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Billy. That’s not a place I ever want to return to.”

He leans in and kisses you with so much passion, using his lips to say more than he could ever form into words, that it leaves you feeling dazed. Loved.

“I’m so proud of you,” Billy says.

You smile at him, and if he weren’t already sitting, he’d need to because of how weak you make him.

“Thank you for respecting me and not treating me differently. You have no idea how much that means.”

Billy’s hands slide down to rest on your collar bones. “Why on earth would I treat you differently? Have people before? If anything it shows me how much of a fucking star you are, because you got through that all on your own. You got through it and now I have the pleasure of being yours.”

You feel like someone’s poured warm water down your back. “People are usually awful about it, yeah. But that doesn’t matter. I’m grateful that you’re so accepting. And I want to be more open with you.”

“You don’t ever have to worry about that, baby. I’m working on my patience, so I’m happy to wait and learn every inch of you. Inside and out.” He winks at you, hoping to coax out a smile. It works.

“I’m so glad I got to this point,” you admit to him. You never say that out loud.

“Fuck, so am I.” He kisses your forehead. “My best girl.”

#tw: self harm #tw: scars #trigger warning: self harm #savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction

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windslar · 10 months

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That's right. I'm back.

Explanation under the cut (TW: pregnancy, abortion, loss)

I know I dropped off the face of simblr without explanation, and for that, I'm sorry. A lot of things happened in March -- around the time of the Growing Together release. I remember thinking how timely is it for infants to come to the game just as I learned we were going to be a family of three.

Long story short, I found out I was pregnant in February, which was a very exciting time as my husband and I felt it was the right time. Truthfully, I became less interested in the game and so much more absorbed in reading and learning all about pregnancy and motherhood. Sims just kind of faded (as it does for many people) as my life began to change.

Many times I felt compelled to come back to explain the situation but as more time passed, the more I felt like it was unnecessary. I didn't think anyone was really going to care, despite the fact that a small number of people did reach out in my inbox (thank you). I figured one day, I'd come back and be like, "surprise! I had a baby!"

But that won't be happening. At least not any time soon.

At my 20-week scan, there were concerning findings. Multiple ultrasounds and procedures later, we had a few reassuring results only to be hit with a rare diagnosis that had severe impacts on the baby's viability at birth.

We chose to terminate the pregnancy. It was the most difficult decision despite knowing it was the right decision for my family. I had grown to love our baby and pictured our lives together. We had told close friends and family. We bought a stroller and a baby carrier. We got gifted some hand-me-down clothes for our baby girl. I had never imagined something so devastating and traumatic could happen to us especially so late into the pregnancy. It felt so unfair. So cruel.

It's been a rough couple of months. The anxiety and depression were at an all-time high. I have been off work for a little bit so I've had more free time, which is not ideal in terms of my mind constantly thinking about our loss, but the time is also kind of necessary for me to heal. In the last two weeks, I revisited the game and started playing casually again, but also lurking more and more here on tumblr. I do miss it. And I think part of the fun of playing the game is sharing my gameplay and interacting with the people in this community. It's one of the few things right now that's keeping my mind from falling into the deep pits of depression.

So yes. I'm depressed and I play the sims to escape the depressing reality of my life (right now). Don't worry, I have other supports elsewhere to help me cope; but in the ~alone times~ this game is keeping me from crying in bed all day so I count that as a win.

Now that that's out there. Please don't ask me any further questions or details about the whole thing, partly because I don't need to relive the sadness any more than I do, and partly to avoid providing any more (potentially) identifying information. I just want to move on and enjoy this safe-ish space the way I used to, and I hope that you can welcome me back with open arms.

#simblr #pls don’t reblog

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impossible-rat-babies · 14 days

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15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

i got tagged by @lilas! ty friend! im gonna tag (sorry for possible double tagging): @thevikingwoman, @hythlodaes, @lavampira, @consulaaris, @gefiltefished, @scionshtola, @starrypawz and anyone else!

a lot of these are from unfinished wips w/o context, im so sorry

1. “Nay, I should have spoken my mind soon after arriving Slitherbough. Mistaken as you were to my nature upon us reuniting, I would not so easily cast aside that which you beheld.” They pause, a bitter smile coming to their lips. “A brilliant soul, I have been called before— nomenclature befitting Hydaelyn’s Chosen. And yet it is not Her light which eats away at me now.”

2. “I care in the loneliness that stood before me in the place beyond the stars. How it looked down at me and I wondered how I had not yet memorized its face. How it asked me if this would be the last time I would gaze upon its face, and if the ache between my ribs would leave me.”

3. Eyrie pauses, worrying their lip. “Pity—pity and sorrow ‘twas what I felt most keenly. Not truly alive, but never allowed to die. A most vile fate for a once great wyrm of the first brood.”

4. “Keeping yourself busy are you?” Alisiae asks, shutting the door behind her. They hold up the book idly, a sigh escaping their lips.

“T’was Krile’s idea. A measure put in place should my vision stagnate at this state, or deteriorate further.”

5. “I know, Alisaie.” They whisper softly, reaching out again to take her hands. Tinged with barely there warmth and stiff fingers as their hold her hands tight. “I know I am dying. I can feel it—beneath my chest, next to my heart. ‘Tis so very dark and cold there.”

“Then why?” She asks, voice tender in her throat. Fingers tensing in their gentle hold. “Why keep telling us it is going to be okay?”

“I would not have us give into grief.” They reply.

“Tis for the dead we grieve, not for the living. With the ache in my chest comes fear, but I would not give up hope. I would not see sorrow rob us of what time we have left. I would not see you mourn just yet.”

6. “Tis easy to peer from the outside in and question why your grandfather gave his life unto a people so fit to squabble and worry naught of any greater threat than that beyond their own borders. Your anger was not unfounded, Alisaie.”

“Still…I should have known better. What would grandfather have had to say?”

Eyrie grins, inclining their head towards her. “Oh something important I would imagine—he was oft given to providing sage advice…if asked or not.”

7. They look up at the sky stretching so far above—the distant twinkling of the stars.

“Ignorant I was to the horrors that would follow. All of my many long years in the wood had made me blind. To what one had to endure—what one would be asked to do; what I have done to my fellow man. There came a time when I stopped and looked back to see myself very far from the intentions that first compelled my feet to walk forward. And there would be no returning.”

8. “I can storm the tower, Y’shtola. ‘Tis simply…”

They rub their hands together, eyes narrowing.

“I do not trust my hands. Alphinaud tended to some of my hurts, but I was more afraid of his touch. Afraid of my own hands should he have found a bruise too tender or raw; what horrors a simple touch would invite into my head. If i had grabbed his wrist in my terror and broken it…how could I forgive myself for that? For hurting him?”

9. They pause, letting the words sink in as the boy deflates, working his lips in ill disguised frustration.

“Alphinaud.” They break the heavy silence looming above them. “I am not a sword to point at the enemies of Eorzea, or the Scions. I am not a soldier to be ordered about—told of my singular duty and thus committed to the cause without fear. Without despair or anxiety. Standing as a shield before the plight of a helpless world, begging for a hero to lead her to a new path. There is resentment there, Alphinaud—I will not lie. I love Eorzea.”

#im only doing 9 bc im running out of wips #but ty for the tag i appreciate it ^^#eyrie doesn't talk a lot but they are very verbose when they do #oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv

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tinyladofladdies · 13 days

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welcome to tinyladofladdie's ! blog . . 𖦹°‧★🐚

about this page . . ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜ :

i felt compelled to make a blog centered around sharing ✞the Gospel of Jesus Christ✞ on tumblr. the internet and technology oftentimes tend to be the source of a lot of evil and secular living, but i believe that for modern-day Christians, with a sudden inability to avoid technology in most spaces, if we are going to use social media, we can add a lot to the internet space to glorify God in the way we present ourselves online.

i want my page to be a safe space to share the Gospel, share testimonies, talk about Christian issues as well as how to navigate modern topics as a Christian, ask questions, and seek help 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 ( keep in mind, i am no mental health professional nor pastor. if you are facing a serious crisis, i will pray for you and do my best to help you with biblical advice, but i would highly recommend seeking immediate sources of help if something is more troubling than any help i can provide. )

🌊☆⋆｡🪼 if you’re a Christian and want to participate in this blog by testifying of God’s goodness, sharing advice, answering questions, or just interacting, feel free to stick around! please remember to operate through God’s grace and truth and represent Christ well as you interact with this blog. 𓆉︎ ࿔*

𓇼🧉❀🐚 if you’re a non-believer and find my page interesting, or a non-believer interested in asking questions / finding information (whether for the sake of skepticism or for the sake of seeking salvation), you’re also welcome to stick around! you’re so loved here regardless <3

𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧🫧 heed . . while this page may eventually contain topics that are controversial at times, i believe there is a difference between conversation and argument. all people are welcome to exercise their opinions, questions, etc., but the last thing i want is for this page to become a place of toxicity or for anyone to feel mentally drained after a conversation. arguing for the sake of insulting or bringing anyone down, asking questions in bad faith with the intent to trap, mock, etc., are not what this page is for. disagreeing in a conversation is normal and not discouraged! starting an argument for the sake of bringing toxicity to my page is not welcomed or encouraged (see below for more details on how to interact with this blog!)

🌊☆⋆｡🪼𖦹°‧★ how to interact . . ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡˚꩜

｡ﾟﾉ 🪸🪼`◌ some ways that i encourage anyone to interact: come as you are, share what’s on your mind regarding the topics spotlighted on this page, ask questions, share your perspectives, seek safe space, reassurance, or advice. <3

Ꮺ °˳◌🫧`˳ how not to interact: trolling, bad faith “questions,” only entering or starting a conversation on this page for the sake of disrespecting Christianity (vs. asking a genuine question and simply disagreeing on a topic), insulting others, anything along these lines.

while i understand that the culture of today commonly uses certain phrases that many don’t think twice about, i respectfully ask that whether you are Christian or not, you do not in any way use the Lord’s Name in vain when commenting, asking, or submitting on my page. any blasphemy or disrespectful remarks about God will be removed & blocked. thank you.

◌🌊🐚Ꮚ°˳´ about me !

๋Ꮺ🗯️ you can call me scotty or little lad! the former is not my real name and the latter obviously isn’t, but both are alias’ i would like to be addressed as here on my tumblr. i commonly use little lad or something along those lines as an online username, and that phrase reminds me of scotland, which is part of my heritage and scottish gaelic is a language i am currently attempting to learn, hence where “scotty” came from.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚 i am a ✞follower of Christ✞, currently attending and serving a non-denominational Christian church in socal. i am an 18 year old girl and still a senior in highschool as of now (graduating soon!). some of interests of mine include: learning about history, theology, and religion as a whole, marine biology & chem, music/choir, certain video games, TV shows, and movies [franchises], the ocean & sharks !! i have many miscellaneous interests and things i eek ! over, so honestly either ask more if ya want or wait to unlock the lore as i casually show how much i love some random small thing online from time to time. i love making friends so please don’t ever feel intimidated to interact with my blog simply for friendship purposes!

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈 if you’re ever interested in learning about my viewpoints on specific theological topics, feel free to ask in the ask box or in a comment or message! theology, Christianity, and religion as a whole is such a complex topic that i cannot list every in-and-out of what i believe regarding church history, theology, etc. however, one other label i would give myself is “Bible-believing Christian,” on all topics of all time periods, what God defines as right and wrong remains regardless of culture or personal feelings!

◌🌊🐚Ꮚ°˳´ some other resources:

what is the Gospel? ✞

my testimony ✞

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

｡ﾟ 🪸🪼 creds!

copy & paste symbols: xiaosworld & moontslight

dividers: roseraris

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otomefiend · 11 months

Text

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: Black Wedding. A false vow to a dark bride.

Chapter 3 Premium

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Bitter

To say I am obsessed with this guy would be an understatement. That's all. I forgot to add I will post the Epilogue sometime today.

~~Part 1~~

(....now, tonight's prey comes to us on it's own accord)

The man claiming to be the leader appeared at the altar, his gaze wandering as soon as he saw us.

Guru: "...where's everyone? My precious believers...?"

Alfons: "I'm good with my hands, so I did a little trick on them."

Alfons: "Right now, your precious believers should be treated by a shrink."

Alfons: "Rest assured, we will provide you with generous support under the patronage of Her Majesty the Queen."

Guru: "Her Majesty the Queen....? Who the hell are you people?"

Alfons: "What does it matter where us, nobodies come from?"

Alfons: "Now, let's begin our delighful, delightful wedding ceremony."

Guru: ".... now, wait a minute."

Alfons: "Oh, do you have any complaints?"

Alfons: "Ah! We haven't said our vows yet. What a terrible discourtesy on my behalf."

Alfons: "Kate."

Removing Kate's veil revealed her lovely face.

I couldn't help but smile seeing her puzzled expression.

Alfons: "I love you, my bride. Will you be my toy for the rest of your life?"

~~Part 2~~

Alfons: "I love you, my bride. Will you be my toy for the rest of your life?"

(Oh, no response?)

Alfons: "What's your answer?"

Hearing my question, the petal-like pale skin below her eyes dyed a light shade of crimson.

Kate: "Y-yes..."

Alfons: "Heh, an excellent response."

Alfons: "Are you satisfied now?"

Guru: "....don't be ridiculous!"

His words and actions were so dull... I felt I was going to doze off.

Before the man was able to pull out a knife from his pocket, I was already behind him.

I took off the leather glove with my mouth and stroked the man's nape with my bare fingertips.

(... Now, shall I let you meet the person you have been so desperate to see?)

Guru: "......"

Guru: " ...Olivia?"

Kate: "Huh?"

Guru: "My Olivia....."

Kate: "!"

The man clung to Kate's legs, trembling with joy.

Guru: "You're supposed to be dead. Why are you here...?"

Guru: "Ah, it doesn't matter. I wanted to see you..."

(What a passionate confession of love)

In the man's eyes, Kate must have looked like his deceased lover.

---Thanks to my ability to show illusions.

Alfons: "Let's ask him why he committed those murder?"

Confused, Kate managed to formulate a question---

Kate: "Why did you do this?"

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "Let's ask him why he committed those murder?"

Kate: "Why did you do this?"

The man started speaking, staring at a vision of the woman he once loved.

Guru: "'When you died from your illness, I despaired that I'd never be able to hold you in my arms again."

Guru: "At that time, I came across a book. In that book, it was written..."

Guru: "He who sacrifices lovers can make the dead rise again."

(...What a dreadfully funny and foolish idea)

Alfons: "The world is overflowing with alchemy-like books."

Alfons: "Among the bodies piled up in the basement, there was a coffin."

Alfons: "The remains of a woman were carefully stored in there."

That must be the person this man wanted to bring back to life, even to the point of committing murder.

Guru: "The book was right...!"

Guru: "That's why you showed yourself like this in front of me, isn't it?"

Kate: ".....n"

Guru: "Olivia? Are you dead? Or are you ......"

Guru: "Anything. Anything you want. ......just, please."

Guru: "Don't ever leave me again..."

(.....ah)

(Really, it's beyond laughable)

The poor bastard was haunted by happy memories, held on to them, and ended up killing people.

I had no other way to describe it than comical.

Alfons: "Shouldn't you answer him, bride?"

Clearly baffled, Kate tried to say something.

Kate: "This is wrong--"

("This is wrong?" ... I'm sure he knew that already)

(Even though he knew it, he was compelled to do it. That's all there is to it, isn't it......?)

Alfons: "Too bad. Time's up, you know."

I pulled out my sabre and, in one swift motion, drove it through a man's heart so he could reach the other world in blissful ignorance.

Guru: "...Oli...via..."

Alfons: "Oh, what a happy face for a murderer."

Alfons: "I'm glad the painful reality won't chase him anymore."

~~Part 4~~

After the man died, everyone in the Crown helped to clean up the bodies.

It was bright outside as if nothing had happened.

Alfons: 'Well then, thank you for the last two days' work. This has been a real pain."

(......?)

Alfons: "Oh, what's wrong, Kate? You look anxious."

Kate: "......"

Kate: "That man must have suffered from reliving his happy memories over and over again."

Alfons: "I'd rather just forget than let the memories torment me."

Kate: "Huh?"

Alfons: "Then there would be no pain, no suffering, only comedy."

Life could easily become tragic due to trivial things.

Some people were followed by tragedy from the moment they were born.

(Then, what else can you do but look for a distraction or laugh it off?)

Kate: "I wish it was possible, but it isn't..."

Alfons: "…………..?"

Kate: "The more precious the memory, the harder it is to forget."

(.....oh, this person)

Even if I enticed her to forget, she would just stubbornly shake her head.

Being by her side, despite myself I began to understand it.

Somehow, this fact disturbed me, though there was no reason why it should.

Alfons: ".... Kate, may I borrow your mouth?"

Kate: "Eh...... mmm."

Kate: ".....candy?"

It was the candy we wrapped together.

Alfons: "Yes, I pinched it. I told you, I'm good with my hands."

Alfons: "The candy has a little trick to it."

Kate: "Poison..."

Alfons: "Heh, you wouldn't be alive right now, would you."

Kate: "What is it then?"

Alfons: "Eating the candy does wonders. You'll forget everything that happened today."

The frown that appeared on her face was tinged with sadness.

Kate: "Alfons, you want me to forget --"

She was about to say something but suddenly looked up...

Kate: "......do you want me to remember?"

~~Part 5~~

Alfons: "The candy has a little trick to it."

Kate: "Poison..."

Alfons: "Heh, you wouldn't be alive right now, would you."

Kate: "What is it then?"

Alfons: "Eating the candy does wonders. You'll forget everything that happened today."

Her frown was tinged with sadness.

Kate: "Alfons, you want me to forget --"

She was about to say something but suddenly looked up...

Kate: "......do you want me to remember?"

(You? Remember me?)

Alfons: "Haha!"

(No way! This me we're taking about?)

(I can't have those feelings for someone...It's far too late.)

Alfons: "Yes, I want you to remember for a long time."

Alfons: "But...forget that I said it."

Kate: "Alfons?"

Alfons: "What colour is the candy you're eating right now, Kate?"

Kate: "What? It's..."

Alfons: "Ha, you see."

Kate: "Doh, I just didn't see it because it was thrown in my mouth."

Alfons: "You are very good at making excuses, little Robin."

Kate: "Hey, Alfons!"

~~~

That day, the Crown was busy with a judgement.

Looking at everyone from the sidelines, I lived in the pursuit of pleasure.

(Now, what illusions shall I create today....?)

Suddenly, the sunlight coming through the window hit my eyelids.

For some reason, I thought of Kate in her wedding dress.

(...I forgot to tell her that I chose that veil)

Though, nothing would change just by telling her.

(No matter in what form I remain in her memory, eventually----)

Kate: "Alfons"

Alfons: "Kate? What's wrong?"

Kate was just staring straight at me, looking dazzling.

Kate: "Can I accompany you on your mission?"

I wonder how much of my existence would be engraved in her memory if we stayed together for longer.

Alfons: "You never learn, do you?"

(Well, that would be rather nice)

(You will forget me one day. Until then, I will play with you to the best of my ability)

Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikevil #alfons sylvatica #ikevil alfons #ikevil story event #fan translation

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neonscandal · 4 months

Note

So, if you asked to write your top 5 fav characters each from JJK & BNHA, what genre will you put them (or you agree that they should be in shounen)....

My asks are getting funnier. 🥰 As always, thanks for asking, lets dig in.

Look at these knuckleheads.

JJK Top 5

I've seen people make really funny observations about how every character in JJK belongs in a different universe but was shoehorned into a horror battle shonen and it delights me to no end. I'm not sure if Gege Akutami actually penned characters that are typical of other anime genres, in a sense, but do believe we all collectively just want our faves to have better odds of survival. At this point, Gege looks at fan polls like a dead pool. I think a story where characters are so obviously not meant to be there would be hilarious if done intentionally, camp even.

Satoru Gojo - The duality of a man who is "The Strongest" in universe while maintaining a girly pop facade to circumvent feeling othered by his strength? Two of my favorite things about Gojo are that he is 1) traumatized 🤪✨ and 2) down astronomically for the days he spent with Suguru Geto. Put this man in a shonen ai, stat.

Nobara Kugisaki and Maki Zenin - Yuri. I feel like I don't need to explain myself here except to say that I put them as one item on the list because I didn't want a list of 6 (I have so many faves). Both iconic, both bad ass. No notes. On the other hand, I would never want to rob Maki of her revenge story so... grain of salt if she stays in universe.

Kento Nanami - I was going to say "this man wants to be in an office sitcom so bad" but, truthfully, would not find the overdone gags and antics palatable. Nanami deserves to rest at an even, dulcet tempo. Traumatized in his youth, he really only returns to jujutsu because office work is unfulfilling but imagine if he were in an office shojo with a found family that he had to provide for? I'm not saying this anime is particularly good but plop him in something cozy like "The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague" but with the home life of "Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid". He'll work for the money because it provides for someone else, you know? Let him suffer fools in peace.

Yuji Itadori - Sweet baby angel. Yuji follows the "best of both worlds" phenomenon that we see in other horror anime like Chainsaw Man, Tokyo Ghoul and Attack on Titan wherein he is both human and curse (avoiding further spoilers). But his disposition, his resilience, his pure physical prowess before he ever ate Sukuna's finger? Put this boy in a sports anime and let him thrive. While he'd absolutely body in a fighting sport, what if he was plopped into "Blue Lock"? Sports anime with a dash of horror aesthetic. He'd crush while being as upbeat and hilariously chaotic as Bachira.

Suguru Geto - Baby Girl is one of the most compelling villains we have. I'd say across multiple anime, honestly. He's what happens when a good person, someone who aims to be so morally upright, is faced with the reality that being good actually guarantees you nothing. With someone so unwavering, someone who can't live in shades of grey like Gojo, he can't bend. So he breaks. Honestly, it adds a layer of complexity to the overall story where... can we really, as the viewer, fault him? I feel like he wouldn't have this evolution anywhere else and that there's something to be said as to whether Geto was always doomed by the narrative.

There's never not been a good time to celebrate this frame, honestly.

BNHA Top 5

What's cool about BNHA is, it is authentically a shonen manga/anime while subverting a lot of it's tropes. BUT, we see this really interesting progression in the art that drifts into horror. Not aiming to spoil anything that's to come in season 7 (body horror, it's body horror. Bones better come through) but you see the beginning of it with the change in vigilante Deku's appearance. If Horikoshi felt inclined to do a horror anime post-BNHA, I'd definitely read.

Katsuki Bakugo - Hilariously, Bakugo wants to shonen so bad but is actually so damsel in distress/love interest coded that it almost undermines his role as Midoriya's rival. Almost. Shonen, shonen ai, I don't think he's out of place in either.

Shoto Todoroki - Todoroki's entire personality and character arc being so intrinsically linked to his family is honestly so amusing given the universe. Like, people have real life superhero powers but awful parents are very much still a thing. So it's interesting to expose the complexity of their family dynamics in tandem with the overarching story because, in every way, the Todoroki family are very much members of the Have's of BNHA society but they are still hopelessly miserable. TBH he could be in a slice of life just experiencing and resolving family trauma. "Kotaro Lives Alone" comes to mind.

Shouta Aizawa - I would cast Aizawa in "Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan" but he wouldn't have the decency to show up to work without a sleeping bag. I'm not saying it wouldn't look out of place in universe but do better for the kids. Joking. He's honestly both the perfect teacher but also a big ole hypocrite. He condemns Midoriya for his recklessness and self-sacrificing (re: breaking bones to use his quirk) but didn't think twice about hacking off his own leg, logical though it may have been. I know All Might is cast as the quintessential mentor in the shonen dynamic but Aizawa is the real MVP when it comes to mentoring and guiding the Class 1A competently. Shonen all the way.

Izuku Midoriya - I can't say Magical Girl Anime, I can't say Magical Girl anime. I appreciate Midoriya's similarity to eponymous crybaby hero Sailor Moon, tbh. She too was OP and with the fate of the world on her shoulders, just saying. He falls in line with the shonen trope of eating something and powering up (re: JJK, One Piece, Attack on Titan) but has emotional range that is not typically seen in shonen which, honestly I love. He is masculine while still being aggressively expressive (even if he struggles to articulate his feelings). His character and subsequent development is another way that Horikoshi subverts shonen tropes and I can't wait to see how his story wraps up.

Dabi - This crispy piece of bacon is a walking, talking and dancing personification of resolute rage. He is quite literally a vendetta held together by staples. Later chapters especially, he just gets unrelentingly grosser and more unhinged and it's both disgusting and emotional. To be honest, between him and Shigaraki, they are undeniably horror fodder by design. In fact, the reveal that he was a little misogynistic extremist radical was particularly wild of Horikoshi. Like, basically if he hadn't self destructed on that mountain he'd have been some incel plotting violence on the deep dark web? I'm trying to think of what to plop him into (maybe not his charred body but just his general... maliciousness, conviction and extremism). I feel like something horror, psychological with a sprinkle of thriller? What comes to mind is a dark series on my TBR but the name escapes me about a kid getting revenge one by one against sadistic bullies though its unclear where Dabi falls on that spectrum.

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quillkiller · 2 months

Note

hiii jen, sending in marytunia for the ask game bc they’re all i think about….would love ur thoughts <3

hiiii i literally love them so much. i was sent an ask about them a few months ago and it changed me forever i fear but i haven’t thought about them in so long….. and i see your tags about them and now @sugarsnappeases is dming about them and im soooooo. so so so.

makes sense/compels me. i dare say

like even in canon i think they could make sense ?? im imagining mary spending the summer at lilys house/mary and lily being best friends and petunia resenting it and absolutely resenting mary. her and lily growing further and further apart from each other…. i imagine lily sneaking out at night, meeting some boy or girl. or when she eventually ends up dating james and sneaking out to see him. and it leaves mary alone in lilys room and thats when her and petunia get closer. maybe lily doesn’t even know…. and eventually mary and petunia are falling asleep together after staying up all night talking

i also especially love it if marys a muggleborn witch, which intrigues petunia will and at first causes a lot of jealousy and resentment. maybe even. dare i say. resentment from mary towards lily because lily is this wonder child, teachers favorite, everyones favorite ?? like mary loves lily but i feel like we’ve all been the ’funny friend’ or ’the ””ugly”” friend’ and that’s how i feel sometimes mary felt being best friends with lily. also none of this is lilys fault obviously she didnt ask for any of this. anyway!!!!!

petunia resents mary, shes obsessed with her, and why does lily even like her so fucking much, and is this what it could’ve been like between me and lily if i had also been a witch, and why are her eyes so golden anyway, and why does she give me these secretive smiles, and why am i up past my bed time waiting to hear lilys foot steps when she sneaks out so i know marys alone, and why am i even walking over there, normal people dont have these sort of feelings for other girls, and im normal, vernon likes me so much, hes a good respectable man, he’d be a good provider, but mary is just so nice, she’s so interesting, and is she falling asleep on my shoulder? i’ll never ever move again, what would lily say if she saw us like this, her lips are so close to my neck, what does mary see in lily anyway, lily is arrogant and gets whatever she wants, what about what i want, she doesn’t even appreciate mary, she leaves her alone nearly every night, how could she not want to wake up with mary every single morning, mary is magic, she makes me feel like magic

also especially good if mary is in love with/or thinks she is with lily.. i love a good angsty secret summer romance plot :/ also love it if petunia feels secretly vindictive whenever mary sneaks into her room. taking something that ’belongs’ to lily

ALSO. also. love it if mary shows up at petunias house after the first war. after lily is dead. thinking maybe they would grieve. be there for each other. but they’re blaming each other. why didn’t you fight? petunia asks, eyes glued the floor. why didn’t you protect my sister?

maybe i also wanted to live a normal fucking life, mary spits back at her, jugdment hot and heavy in her tone. petunia feels nothing but shame when she goes to bed that night. a bed made of it— and her perfectly normal house enveloping her in shame, suffocating her from within

anyway .

ask game!!!

#marytunia #did not mean to make the answer this long. 🧍

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nahoney22 · 1 year

Note

Hi there! I know I have already left a request here (so please ignore if it's not allowed) but I took a peek at the angst prompts and just had to request something for my sour patch husband Dogma 💕

How about “i don’t want to bother you. seriously, it’s all just... it’s a lot.” + “it’s okay to cry, you know.”

SFW with a gn reader, and as angsty as your heart wishes. Once again, congratulations on the amazing milestone.

Ps: shrimp check! Watch out for the bad posture 😌

Prompt List Celebration 3000 Followers

Dogma X GN!Reader

word count: 2k

SFW

prompts:

“I don’t want to bother you. Seriously, it’s all just… it’s a lot.”

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Warnings: a little bit angsty, reader provides comfort to Dogma. Mentions of Krell 🔪. Reserved and distant dogma - lone wolf - Gender neutral reader.

Authors note: thank you for the kind words and request! I love Dogma soooo much. And the way my posture snapped well quick lmao @starborncyare

Masterlist

Prompt List - Requests Closed but this is where you can find other works.

Upon your arrival at the outpost, you were struck by the eerie atmosphere and the many uncertainties that hung in the air. Situated on one of the outer rim territories, the outpost was a place where disobedient individuals were sent as punishment. However, work was provided to keep their minds occupied and at bay from the dangers that surrounded them.

You had been stationed here by one of the higher-ups, tasked with monitoring the workload and the people themselves. As you observed the inhabitants, one particular individual caught your inquisitive eye - a man by the name of Dogma.

True to his name, Dogma was considered a dogmatic soul, at least according to his records, which you had the urge to snoop through at one time. You just yearned to know what had brought him to this desolate outpost in the first place and after discovering that he was sent here because he had killed the traitorous Pong Krell, you couldn't help but feel pity for him.

Dogma was a quiet and reserved individual, often eating alone and seemingly enjoying his own company. However, you felt compelled to change that.

You started off by giving him the odd smile when you passed by him, only to receive a blank stare of confusion but the more you did it, the more there was a faint subtle one given in return. It only took two months. Then, you went ahead and started to sit by him when grub was being served. You would sit at the end of his long table and until he told you to go away, you didn't shift. Of course your cohorts were confused as to why you were dedicating your time to this man but to you, it seemed a little bit worth it.

Your first attempt at a conversation with Dogma however didn't go quite as planned. When you greeted him with a polite hello, he responded with a deep frown and an accusing tone. "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" he asked, suspicious of your intentions. You were taken aback by his abruptness, but you tried to defuse the situation.

You raised your hands in slight defence and offered him a careful smile. "I'm not doing anything. I am just sitting here, eating this rubbish and trying to get a small conversation going. I... I see you by yourself quite often and I thought you could do with a friend?"

Your words seemed to strike a chord with Dogma, who stood up abruptly, scraping his chair across the floor with a bone-chilling noise. "Has it occurred to you that I like my own company?" he retorted before stalking off, leaving you feeling a little deflated. You knew better than to push the matter any further, so you decided to give him some space and let him come to you on his own terms.

—--------

After approximately a week or two had elapsed - though time seemed somewhat blurry at times - you had recently concluded drafting a report to dispatch back to the GAR following an evaluation of the productivity and attitude of the workforce. Leaning back into your chair with a deep sigh, you ran your hands over your face in an attempt to dispel the discomfort brought about by the light from the glaring holoscreen that you had just been staring at, subsequently turning off the lamp on your desk. Exhausted, your bed, if you could even call it a bed, was beckoning you.

Until you heard something emanating from down the corridor.

Halting your movements, you surveyed your surroundings, failing to spot any apparent dangers. However, as you proceeded cautiously, the sounds of sniffling and choked whimpering grew louder and louder. Panic gripped you, as you thought someone had been injured so as you hurried over but you froze upon seeing him.

"Dogma?" you spoke his name quietly but loudly enough for him to lift his head from his hands, glaring at you with heartbreakingly glossy eyes. Reacting quickly, he stood up from the floor and turned his back to you, wiping away his tears in an aggressive manner.

"You saw nothing," he ordered you, his tone bordering on a threat. However, you did not take it to heart, instead feeling more curious about the reason behind his tears.

"What's wrong? Are you injured?"

"Why do you care?" he snapped at you again, this time regarding you over his shoulder with what seemed like disdain. "Why do you appear wherever I go? Why are you being kind to me?"

You stood there, dumbfounded, but gradually began to feel a flicker of anger rising within you. "It is my responsibility to care, and as one of your leaders, it is my duty to ensure that all workers are safe. Therefore, I will ask again and I expect an answer, are you injured?"

This time, Dogma was surprised by your tone, but his face remained fixed in a glare. "No... I'm not injured."

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, and a small sigh escaped your lips as you leaned against the wall, moving a little closer to him. "Well, can you tell me what is the matter, then?"

"It's nothing," he muttered.

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me," you pressed, only to receive a grunt in response. However, he eventually turned to face you fully and kicked his boot into the ground.

Dogma had never before encountered anyone who cared for him in this way, and even though he would not admit it to himself, a pang of guilt coursed through him for snapping at you when you had greeted him earlier. It was the first time anyone had shown him a hint of kindness, and he had dismissed it. The memory lingered with him for a while.

"I apologise for my behaviour towards you the other week. I was..." he grimaced at himself, not realising what he was saying until he spoke, "I wasn't in the best of moods."

You nod slowly, your understanding of Dogma evident. "It's not uncommon to encounter difficult people here," you remark with a light chuckle, folding your arms over your chest. "I've dealt with them before." You pause, then ask, "What's bothering you tonight. though?"

The clone hesitates before answering, looking around the dimly lit corridor. But knowing that everyone is asleep, he feels he has nothing to lose. "I don't want to bother you. Seriously... It's just a lot," he says with reluctance.

"Is it the workload? I can easily delegate some tasks to others if you need some time," you offer.

"No," he snaps, but his tone holds no ill intention. "It's not the workload."

You wait patiently for him to continue.

"I miss my brothers," he sighs, moving to lean against the wall beside you. His head tilts downwards as a wave of sadness crosses his face. "I know they don't miss me. Heck, not a lot of them even liked me," he mutters with a tone of regret. "I thought I was doing the right thing, following orders from a Jedi. But I was wrong. So," he sniffles, his lower lip quivering, but he doesn't want you to see, "so wrong."

You nod in understanding as Dogma opens up about his feelings. The weight of his troubled mind is clear, and his stoic expression has given way to utter despair. As he wipes away a tear before it falls, he continues to speak, "After being banished here, I realised how lonely I truly am. I may have felt lonely before, but this is something else entirely."

Your heart aches for him as you realise that despite his stern personality, he is struggling internally. You stand there in silence, observing his turmoil, feeling empathy for the troubled clone. It's not the first time you've felt this way towards the workers here, aside from a select few.

You finally break the silence with a gentle voice, "If you're feeling lonely, why did you push me away?" Dogma shrugs quietly. "I don't know. Fear, maybe? Embarrassment?"

You raise an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of humour, "Embarrassed to be seen with me, Trooper?"

As you observe the clone's sudden jolt of nervousness, you can't help but feel a sense of amusement at his sudden loss of composure. But you maintain a gentle demeanor, allowing him to gather himself before continuing the conversation.

"O-of course not," he stammers, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "You seem really..." he trails off, searching for the right word to describe you.

As you wait patiently for him to find the right words, he rakes his mind and feels himself biting on the inside of his cheek. Sweet? Nice? There seemed to be many words but few that he would use to describe himself.

"I seem, what?" you prompt him, bringing him back to the present moment.

He jolts a little, standing a little straighter as he gathers his thoughts. "Nice," he finally says with a nod. "You seem nice."

You can't help but smile at his compliment, feeling a sense of satisfaction that your kind demeanour has been recognised. "Thank you," you reply, genuinely touched by his words. "You seem pretty nice yourself."

A small chuckle escapes from Dogma's lips, and he rubs the back of his head, unsure if he's nervous or feeling relaxed. You observe his subtle change in demeanour and take a moment to appreciate the tattoo on his face. It's interesting and striking, but not quite as striking as his eyes. Despite being filled with unshed tears, they gleam brightly in the dim lighting.

Breaking free from your brief entrancement, you speak up swiftly, "Anyway, I want you to know that if you're struggling and feeling low, my office is just down the hall." You make a vague gesture with your hand, indicating the direction of your office.

"I know things seem difficult, but I'm certain that with enough support, you'll pull through. I mean that," you say with complete sincerity, your voice imbued with warmth and compassion. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for not following the rules.” You raise a brow at him this time, a little confused and judging by your reaction, he clears it up. “Isn’t leaving the barracks at this time against protocol?”

“Oh, yes but I think I can let it slide this time.” You hum in amusement but pause when you see him swipe an escaped tear, a sad smile planting on your lips. “It’s okay to cry, y’know?" you whispered softly. "You don’t need to wipe them away in front of me.”

Your words stilled him and he felt himself grow a little self conscious that so much of his vulnerability had slipped. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Crying and appearing weak.”

“Dogma,” you say his name sternly before he could even get the chance to look away from you, “you’re not weak for showing emotion. You’re human and as long as blood runs through your veins, let your tears fall if you need them to.”

“I…” he derailed his words and sighs in acceptance, maybe the first glimmer of it in a long time. “Thank you.”

It’s a bold move but was not exactly against the rules but you stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around in a quick embrace, hugging him only to feel him stiffen under the foreign feeling. Dogma felt a wave of emotions wash over him. He had never experienced anything like this before, and it was overwhelming. Even for a moment, his stoic demeanour faltered, and he let himself be vulnerable.

His arms slowly wrap around you and he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and let his eyes fall close. Maybe, things will start to look up for him from then on. Maybe, he could even have a bond with someone.

masterlist

prompt list - requests are closed but here is where you can read some of my other prompt works

#tcw dogma x reader #dogma x you #dogma x reader #clone wars dogma #clone trooper dogma #ct dogma x you #nahoney22 writes

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curiositymemes · 9 months

Text

MISTER MAGIC SENTENCE STARTERS : PART ONE.

taken from the 2023 novel by kiersten white. trigger warnings for unreality, trauma, religion, and cults. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“oh, i can see it in your eyes.”

“i’ve always known.”

“it’s okay to ask questions. questions are how we get to know the world.”

“safe, he / she / they’d say at the end of the day. safe, instead of good night, or i love you.”

“yes, it’s really me.”

“a lot of people never got closure. including us. especially us.”

“we all worried about you, you know.”

“i can’t believe i finally found you.”

“name, what did you do?”

“you don’t recognize me, do you? well, i’d never forget you, name.”

“what the actual fuck?”

“you’ve been here the whole time?”

“there’s always a spot for you.”

“i feel weirdly compelled to warn you about stranger danger.”

“i don’t remember you, but i know you. that’s enough for me, today.”

“i have so many more questions than i did before.”

“it was amazing, until it wasn’t.”

“we were all just kids.”

“time passed different then.”

“i’d say it’s like no time has passed but really too much has.”

“don’t overthink it. we’re almost there.”

“that’s so creepy. please read them all right now.”

“i changed my mind. i don’t want to hear this.”

“what’s fanfic?”

“sounds like one of those nonsense inspirational facebook posts.”

“this can’t be right.”

“i’m giving it thirty more minutes.”

“stay with us tonight, wherever we end up.”

“again, i ask: what the fuck?”

“it looks like someone put a regular house on a medieval rack and tortured the shit out of it.” / “funhouse mirror version of a house.”

“name said we aren’t staying here, and we all know she’s / he’s / they’re in charge.”

“it’s late and cold and none of you are wearing jackets.”

“is it okay if i spend the night? is there room?”

“did we all collectively dream this?”

“how does everyone remember something that, for all intents and purposes, never existed???”

“WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I MADE THE WHOLE THING UP”

“don’t sit too close. you’ll burn your eyes out, remember?”

“sorry, i’m exhausted. it’s been a long day. long year. long decade.”

“can we figure everything out in the morning?”

“let’s explore. up, or down? down, right? gotta be down. that’s where the bodies always are.”

“your mom- / dad- / parent-voice is powerful.”

“you haven’t changed at all.” / “excuse me, i’m much handsomer.”

“shut up, dork.”

“i can’t remember the last time i saw this many stars.”

“i feel like i’m losing my mind.”

“i just can’t believe you’re here. you’re really here.”

“i felt so guilty that i lost you, i shaped my whole life around the space where you were missing.”

“it was my job to watch out for you.”

“i wasn’t strong enough.”

“is it crazy that i feel closer to you than anyone else in my life?”

“it haunts us. knowing what we had, and that we can never get it back.”

“i never moved on. i never moved on at all.”

“i was only age but that shit has haunted me ever since.”

“if i had to live inside it all these years, so do you.”

“you really don’t remember it?”

“which question do you want me to answer?”

“i can’t remember the last time someone made breakfast for me. that was really nice of you.”

“i need this to work. it’s got to work.”

“i don’t want you to go through this alone. i’ll stick with you, if you’ll have me.”

“there’s something else going on here.”

“hey now, that’s not fair.”

“i guess he / she / they taught me how to survive.”

“they loved me in a way i needed to be loved. they were always there.”

“i don’t know what was real and what was nightmares after.”

“to be fair, no one ever thinks i’m a p.i., which can come in handy.”

“she deserves / he deserves / they deserve so much more.”

“not hidden, just unnoticed.”

“i’d say get a life, but i’m here talking to you about it, so i can’t really criticize.”

“married a kennedy. it was that or a bush, and kennedys throw better parties.”

“i’m trying to think what else i shouldn’t say about myself.”

“don’t worry about it. they won’t be mad at you, and they’ll be mad at me no matter what i say.”

“i figure, why poke a sleeping bear when you can kick it in the balls instead?”

“my rebellious-teen phase was cut short.”

“people think children’s lives are simple, easy, but it’s the opposite. everything that happens around them affects them, and they don’t have the power to affect any of it back.”

“you seem really intense about a show that ended thirty years ago.”

“your hand okay?”

“i’ve never needed anything more in my entire life.”

“look elsewhere, sweetie. trust me. you don’t want anything out there.”

“the desert does have a way of wriggling into your soul.”

“you’re small, and you’re alone, and you don’t matter. and that’s okay.”

“go anywhere else.”

“this doesn’t have to change anything.”

“that’s what i want. change. it’s what i asked for.”

“we’re not in trouble.”

“i should have given you a better warning.”

“i need to go alone. but don’t leave!” / “i’d never leave you.”

“if the cops come, we can thelma and louise it out of here.”

“name, you didn’t do anything bad. you were just a kid.”

“you can’t make me!”

“well, come in, i guess.”

“i’m afraid it’s not going to be enough.”

“did any of us actually make it out?”

“she / he / they didn’t ask anything of you except approval. maybe she’s / he’s / they’re still asking for that.”

“you sound like a fucking psycho.”

“you can tell me if i did a good job, if people will like it.”

“we made a deal, so we’re doing what we’re told.”

“keep going. you’re doing great.”

“i did everything i was supposed to, followed all the rules.”

“i’m so sad, all the time, and i don’t know how not to be sad.”

“i’m the link holding everything together and it’s all just weight. it’s weight, and it never lets up, and no one else ever holds it. no one else even notices it.”

“i don’t understand how i can be there every moment of every single day and somehow not exist at the same time.”

“i’m not happy, and i don’t know how to be happy.”

“i want this part to be over.”

“do you have any questions for me?”

“you were getting better.”

“we were doing what was best for you.”

“but you always got your way.”

“because he’s / she’s / they’re an idiot, that’s why.”

“i was going to be so proud to be your mother / father / parent.”

“even now, they blame me.”

“did you look for me?”

“i need your phone.”

“we were playing a game of hide-and-seek, but no one was seeking.”

“what do you want to do?”

“i like it better this way. adds character.”

“i thought you couldn’t remember what happened.” / “i didn’t say i didn’t remember. i said it doesn’t make sense.”

“you’ve been through a lot.”

“i don’t matter.”

“all that matters is figuring out the truth.”

“listen to me: it wasn’t your fault.”

“i’ve always known i did something unforgivable.”

“you still blame yourself.”

“you were my responsibility.”

“it feels unfinished, doesn’t it?”

“you want to stay?”

“this is a celebration, not a tribunal.”

“she says / he says / they say they’ll meet us there in a couple hours.”

“oh, it’s not that bad of a joke.”

“why are you sleeping, lazybones? there’s so much to do.”

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anarcheamor · 6 months

Text

Okay, Now I Can Talk About Annette's Vodou

Sike! I have to detour through Maria's summoning first. Spoilers for Nocturne will be said here so please stop reading from here if you haven't finished the show.

I know I watched the trailers and saw her summoning birds and thought it was cool but it still took me aback to see it in the show. And I think it's because, for one, knowing that her mother was a speaker made me question why she didn't know speaker magic and, for two, it was the first set of magic that needed a not-plot-relevant explanation for how it works. In the first show, the only times we got explanations for the magic was when something big was happening and the explanations served as part of the setup such as Doctor Saint Germain in the Multiverse of Madness and The Parent Trap: Alucard's Nightmare Editon. For Maria, there wasn't a plot reason for her powers being explained, it just seemed like the show had to provide one because the question was gonna be asked as we were watching. After all, she was summoning animals from somewhere and no other character we have seen had powers to teleport beings from one place to another so casually. Okay, so we have a daughter of a speaker magician who doesn't use speaker magic and we know that her daddy is definitely not capable of teaching it to her so what gives, right? Thus the show (read writers) felt compelled to break a convention from the first show and give us an explanation so that we could understand Maria's abilities and introduce the existence of other realms- something that was introduced in the first Castlevania via Saint Germain: Into The Germainer-verse. And that's fine, nothing too complicated, her relationship with the animals she summons seems to be something both originating from her magic and also from her using them in every day life. Cool! The alternate realm even has a name: the Other World. Alrighty, so I'm certain that it's that simple and we won't need anything else to be explained.

Except there is... turns out that the Otherworld is part of Celtic/Gaelic/Britonic myth which would explain why Maria's powers are different than her mother's as they most likely stem from her father's side of the family. An odd thing to leave out, no? I almost thought it was like Forgemastery where it was a Castlevania original form of magic. A small dive into the native roots of her magic could have added a bit more to her character and have the double effect of prepping us up mentally for Annette's Vodou especially since the two were directly compared but also to help showcase just how different Vodou is from people's traditional views on faith and magic.

Now I should say that my understanding of Vodou is coming from being an outsider to the faith but still connected to it culturally due to my ancestry, upbringing, hearing stories, etc., and then having to fill in the blanks with some research. This isn't gonna be accurate Vodou info because we're talking about a faith with three major variants that all have been pretty secretive for most of their existence due to religious oppression, demonization, and centuries-long attempts at exploiting and capitalizing on their "exoticness". So with all that said, take what I say with a good amount of salt.

Edouard says that Maria's Otherworld sounds like Annette's ancestral plain which is right in the sense that there is AN ancestral plain similar to the Otherworld. AN as in one because, in Vodou, there's multiple "nations" or families of spirits, with each spirit behaving and acting differently in some accordance to the nation they're in. The first red flage here is that the ancestral plain we see is pretty ambiguous and is just a gaggle of spirits in some ethereal place and the spirits themselves are mostly just diversely colored shadows save for Annette's mambo (teacher), Cecille. The next red flag is that Annette's magic is her own. In Vodou, powers are given by the spirits themselves, there's no level of spiritual genetics that can just imbue you with magical ability. Why? Because a major lesson in Vodou is that our strength comes from those who came before us and we can use them to support us as long as we reach out to them. Removing that aspect of Vodou from the equation just turns Annette's magic in regualr magic but with some Haitian flavor on it. And all of this is made most apparent than the biggest red flag...

THEY BROKE PAPA LEGBA'S NECK!?

So, Papa Legba is one of the most beloved of Lwa. First of all, you can't do much without him being involved as you have to talk to him first. Have you ever lived in a neighborhood and there's this gentle old man always sitting at his porch whose basically everybody's grampa? That's Papa Legba and his "house" is the entirety of the lwa nations (although he's considered to be from the Rada nation, one of the major nations I mentioned earlier). But he ain't no slouch and to cross him is to play one of the biggest FAFO games in your life. He's the head guard of all crossroads, doorways, etc., so him being summoned to deal with a portal to Hell and Forgemastery machine sounds appropriate but who thought it was a good idea to have him die? Is he dead? Just... why? How? Can spirits just die now? Ugh... on top of that, they could have just had him possess her. Usually, when Vodou practitioners want something from a lwa, the lwa can only interact physically through a human body so a rite is performed for the lwa to "dance in the head" of a trained practitioner who personally works with them. I can understand cutting corners in the show so that all Annette has to do is focus and call the name of a lwa but this would have been cool to see, allows greater focus on Annette, and allows you to have Papa Legba there without doing him dirtier than what American Horror Story did to him by having him just stand around until his neck gets turned intoa tetris piece.

You can see why I had to take this long to get to my main point, right? The first Castlevania used the straightforwardness of their magic to great effect but Nocturne introduced two new forms of magic with rocky starts because they don't match the formula established by the first set of magic. I hope that we get to see better representation of both.

#I didn't mention how the otherworld is supposed to be a realm of gods so it being just animals is bit awkward #castlevania nocturne #castlevania anime #annette castlevania #maria castlevania #magic #vodou #haitian vodou #gaelic #otherworld #make sure to read Castlevania's new comic Crisis on Infinite Germains

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