#it just the right side of believability‚ resulting in one of the most disturbing + unsettling perfs of its type. rip to a very fine actor
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How they are Handling your Disappearance Pt. 2
Side Characters edition!
Okay you guys wanted more angst, so here you go! lol A part 2 with the side characters was requested, so I wrote for Diavolo, Simeon, Luke (purely platonic), and Solomon. I left Barb out because i'm very unsure of his role as of right now in Nightbringer. I hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think! You'll probably need some tissues again so prepare yourself! lol
Read Part 1: Brothers
Part 3: MC Returns
Genre: Angst, Hurt.
Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @a-hidden-gem @obey-me-posts @otomefoxystar @siofrantic @flemmingbamse i'm also going to tag @yourboyhack @ihatecorns @cherrybakewelltea and @exrellian too since you liked the first part! MC's return will be next! :3
But if you want to be tagged in my future work please fill out this form!
rose divider by @/firefly-graphics
The brothers were the first to be aware of your disappearance, but the news traveled fast between all of the people who were closest and dearest to you. No one knew where you went, but they knew one thing for sure: they were doing anything possible to bring you back home. After weeks of searching every inch of the Devildom, it was becoming apparent that you were no longer in the same realm. This of course sent a new wave of panic through everyone. Where did you go, MC? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving?
❤️Diavolo❤️
If anyone should feel responsible for your disappearance, it’s The Demon Prince.
He is incredibly perplexed and disturbed by the fact that his human exchange student disappeared right out from under his watchful eye.
Diavolo usually has a very outgoing and joyous attitude, but it’s not the same since you left.
Instead, he becomes numb. Sad. Determined to do everything he can to find you.
Lucifer had come running to him in a state of panic, informing him that they couldn’t find you.
He rarely saw Lucifer act that way, so he knew it had to be serious.
He joined in on the search for you too.
Barbatos tried convincing him to stay at the castle, but he couldn't just sit and do nothing. The peace between the human world and the Devildom is at risk.
After days and weeks of searching with no results, he becomes depressed.
He uses every connection, every resource he has to find you.
But he can’t.
Not even the most powerful being in all the Devildom can locate one human.
To disgrace not only the Devildom, but his Father… It's too much to bear.
I’m such a poor excuse for a demon, how could I lose them so easily?
He sits at his office desk, staring down at the paperwork he’s supposed to be finishing. He's severely behind.
But instead of picking up the pen, his hands are clutching at his auburn hair as tears stream down his cheeks.
Barbatos walks on him in this state several times.
The sight of the dark, heavy bags under the Prince’s eyes causes a pang of sadness in his heart. He longs to comfort him.
But the Prince has become distant from him.
He doesn’t understand why Barbatos doesn’t use his powers to find you in such desperate times.
He’s confused. Angry.
He orders Barbatos away, and rests his head into his folded arms, wishing you were wrapped up in them instead.
Wherever you are, MC, I promise we will find you. We’ll bring you home.
💛Simeon💛
When Simeon learns of your disappearance, he almost doesn’t believe it.
But when he’s forced to face the reality of your absence, he feels it deep within his heart.
His usual calm demeanor starts to crack, but he wants to stay brave for Luke.
He doesn’t want to scare the young angel.
At first, he’s restless, pacing through the corridors of Purgatory Hall, trying to think of any way to contribute to your search.
But it’s been weeks. And still no sign of you.
Now he sits in one of the arm chairs in his bedroom, gazing out the window.
My little lamb, where have you disappeared to?
A book that he’s given up reading rests on his lap, his fingertips ghosting over the corners of the pages.
He wishes you were here with him, sitting comfortably in his lap while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
His eyes well up with tears at the thought.
Luke checks in with him often, bringing him updates when he can and suggesting they get out of his room for a while.
He sits with Luke in a cafe for a while, nursing a cup of coffee while Luke chatters about all of the things he’s going to do with you when you return.
This should cheer him up, but instead it sends a wave of indescribable sadness washing over him.
It’s not Luke’s fault, of course.
He appears to be handling it better than he is.
Simeon, who normally thrives on the joy he brings others through conversation and gentle smiles, requests to be alone.
He shuts himself away in his room, finally letting the tears fall.
His heart burns with grief as his body trembles.
As a writer, he figures the only thing he can do is compose a letter of his feelings for you.
MC, My love, please return home as soon as you can. Are you safe? I think of you constantly. Your absence brings a great sadness over me that I haven’t felt in quite some time. Even as a well known author, my words alone cannot express how deeply I miss and care for you. I love you, MC. I long to feel the warmth of you by my side once more. -Simeon
💙Luke💙
They try to go easy on telling Luke the news of your disappearance.
The young angel knew something was wrong when Simeon sat him down, a serious expression painted across his face.
“W-What?! MC is gone?!”
His heart is full of sadness and confusion, worried about where you could have possibly ran off to.
You wouldn’t just leave him without telling him where you were going, right?
He tries not to think about that.
So he puts all his energy into baking.
Desserts and pastries of all kinds line the kitchen tables and counters of Purgatory Hall.
Barbatos walks into the kitchen to see flour and a variety of different colored icing all over.
But there is Luke, frosting on his nose and tears in his eyes, baking away.
“I-I have to make sure there’s plenty of desserts for them to eat when they return!”
Luke offers several pastries for Barbatos to take to the brothers.
He doesn’t usually take kindly to them, but he knows they are working hard to find you.
He eventually slows down, growing tired from his baking frenzy.
Simeon goes to check on him, and finds the little angel asleep at the table, his head cradled in his arms and surrounded by a mountain of cookies he just got done baking.
He stirs a little when Simeon carries him to bed.
“M-MC…” he whimpers. “They’ll come back, right?”
He’s half awake now, aware of Simeon tucking him into bed.
The older angel gives him a sad smile. “Of course Luke, they love you so much. I know they’ll return home soon.”
Luke sniffs, a tear falling down his cheek as he begins to drift back to sleep.
“I-I miss them…I want them to try all of my desserts…”
Simeon wipes away his tears, attempting to hold back his own.
Luke begins to snore softly, dreaming of baked goods and picnics where you are there to share them with.
🖤Solomon🖤
When you first go missing, Solomon is confused.
You were just with him, where did you go? Is this some sort of joke?
His worry causes the demon brothers to panic.
Solomon is never too bothered by anything. He’s seen a lot of things in his lifetime.
But when you go missing suddenly with no explanation?
That’s something that terrifies him.
He hears the news from the brothers that your pact is no longer active with them.
That worries him even more.
He immediately jumps into action.
He searches the location of where you were last seen and picks up on lingering traces of magic.
That's odd, he thinks. He was proud of how far you've come with your abilities as his apprentice, but he knew this magic was way too strong to be yours.
This was the work of someone much more powerful.
Nonetheless, a flutter of hope rises in his chest. He's one step closer to finding you.
He analyzes the magic, and comes to the conclusion that you were transported through time to a past version of the Devildom.
Once he connects all the dots, he uses Barbatos' power to find you.
Of course, it takes a few tries, but he finds you.
He let's out a breath of relief as he gathers you into his arms, squeezing you tight.
You sob into his chest as he holds you.
His poor, adorable apprentice. Lost and confused.
"There there, MC. It's going to be alright. We'll get you home soon."
But now he’s stuck there too, with no way to contact the brothers or Diavolo to tell them of your location.
He could, theoretically return but he wouldn't dare go back to the present without you by his side.
Lucifer about murdered him already, and you desperately needed his help.
He secretly couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone.
But this will be interesting, he thought.
Let's see how this plays out.
#part 2 lets goooo#writing luke's brought me to tears#he's such a sweetie he doesn't deserve it T_T#anyways i hope you guys like!#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me angst#obey me writing#obey me diavolo#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me solomon#obey me barbatos#obey me! shall we date?#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me brothers#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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Buggy & The Roger Pirates Thing (maybe even a little Corabug!?)
Buggy always feeing like he doesn’t belong on Rogers crew. Like he was just brought on to be a playmate for Shanks (practically a pet). He’s not entirely wrong either most of the crew shows unintentional favoritism to Shanks and don’t really remember that Buggy’s there half the time.
The next island they visit they actually forget Buggy. Buggy himself doesn’t even realize until hours later, Roger Pirates far away and still unaware of their mistake. Buggy’s devastated, he kinda wanders around the islands small town and into its forest in shock and despair before coming upon a familiar face. A blond marine who he’d met in the town earlier who was now running through the woods. They had a good conversation earlier and all Buggy had really learned was the boys name. Rosinante.
Rosinante takes Buggy back to Sengoku who goes “WAIT A MINUTE” and then declares that Buggy’s been taken in for ransom. Buggy tells them that nobody is going to come for him.
They wait a couple days, then a week, then a couple weeks, finally two whole months go by and nobody’s showed up for Buggy. Sengoku is disturbed by this and does some digging. Apparently a vote to retrieve Buggy was placed and the majority thought it was too much work for the second cabin boy (the add on, the spare, the unpromising backup). There was also info that Roger and the losing side were upset with the polling results but weren’t going to do much about it.
Sengoku decides right there and then he’s gonna see why Roger let Buggy onto his crew in the first place and why they don’t want Buggy back.
And…..
Sengoku has no clue why they wouldn’t want Buggy to return to them. He’s crafty, smart, loyal. He’s a good kid by pirate standards. Clearly a trouble maker but the passion he has for chemistry and science is unmatched. The way he solves puzzles and can worm his way out of any situation socially is insane. His treatment of people around him and of Cora himself (even if it’s special treatment😉) is admirable. Not to mention the boys luck.
Sengoku suspect it’s cause of Buggy’s less upfront way of fighting and actually assessing situations is what put The Rogers off. Buggy may be cowardly but if he really is needed he’ll do his part. Plus his long range weapons (bombs, altered guns) are nothing to sneeze at.
Buggy ends up staying with the marines for a really long time even if in the beginning he said he was going to escape and get far far away from them. Instead staying, training and getting stronger.
Decades later Red Haired Shanks comes face to face with a marine with long blue hair and the nickname Ringmaster.
Okay first of all thank you for writing this.
now right now I’m crying because that’s just fucking sad.
them leaving buggy there and how they decided is disgusting and I’m literally devastated. Poor buggy wanna hug him so bad.
For me Roger here failed as the captain bc who tf cares what the crew thinks. He is the captain and he should have been defending Buggy but he didn’t. In here Ace was right Roger was a monster bc left a child who looked up to him like no one else ever did in a town from nowhere behind. I wonder how shanks reacted.
I kinda wished that- I don’t know if you watched the LA but there Garp is on the Plattform where Roger gets killed. I wish that buggy would arrive the Plattform when Roger finished his speech him thinking he will die with no regrets and with starting the new era but the moment he saw buggy his smile vanished and he knew he could no longer die at peace.
I have two things in mind of what buggy could say
He would smile at roger with a trembling body saying something like: “I hoped you lived a good live “captain”
or
2. He would be cold and saying shit like: “That’s it Gol D. Roger. You and your loved one will pay for your crimes” and he would mean it bc with people who believe in him he would get stronger and have more determination
I’m kinda surprised that Sengoku would take with if we think about what he did to Ace considering that wanted to execute him for being roger son not being the second commander of Whitebeard who was equal to roger. But I do not complain. If I think about it Buggy could be trained by Sengoku and Garp and Tsuru. Sengoku and Garp were also equal to roger. And while Sengoku could teach him to be smarter fight smarter, Garp could train him in strength combat and haki. Tsuru could help him to calm himself down and always keep his cool. So he could be powerful yonko level bc that what actually oda said. If Buggy would take effort he would be yonko level.
You know what a sad part of this is Buggy is the kind of character who gets treated bad by the “good” ones (in here the goal of the main character) but he would not get justice. He would die and maybe the others would regret it but probably not the same episode one person would say “he would want that you hate yourself…” like BITCH OFC HE WOULDNT BUT YOU SHOULD BC YOU DESERVE THAT.
anyways I’m getting of the topic I think Buggy is smart and a sweetheart if you treat him well. He maybe loves treasure in an unhealthy amount and can be a little arrogant but it’s like he is be mean but still would do everything for you if you treat him right. (I also believe that he would not have a pride problem to apologize if he did something wrong but that another thing).
again with the Plattform (I hope it’s Plattform English is not my native’s language) the thing is Shanks would see it. And I think no matter if choice one or two you choose he would be angry…even though he has no right too. But Buggy doesn’t care about shanks…well not anymore bc he has Rosi. While he hadn’t a bad relationship with Shanks his relationship with Rosi is much better. Shanks if not meant to be mean only teased him which lead to the whole crew teasing him and Buggy didn’t like that. I mean I don’t think he had a problem with some teasing bc that normal and fun you know? Everyone does that but they teased him about everything and it kinda hurt bc it gave off the feeling he wasn’t taking seriously at all. That he couldn’t be allowed to be sad or scared…genuinely.
With Rosi it wasn’t like that he got comforted motivated. Instea if being told that “a pirate isn’t allowed to be scared” or “are you hiding again” or “you wouldn’t be scared if you trained harder like shanks” he gets “it’s fine I protect you” or “don’t be scared buggy! Your strong and if anything happens I’m right here” and it helps bc it motivates him and them saying that they believe he is strong wants him to prove that and he doesn’t and he makes mistakes and learns from them and gets better bc that how it should be done
So if Buggy and Shanks would meet after decades Shanks would be furious at Buggy for doing this to their captain. But with just a few sentences Shanks anger turned into guilt
“Roger didn’t want me. He left me and abandoned me. No one wanted me”
So I think Shanks would withdraw and just go with it. But now he would feel emptier. It was one thing not having seen buggy and him officially cutting of the relationship was hard for Shanks but he shouldn’t complain he didn’t say anything when they voted to leave him even if he didn’t want that he could do more. Bc they would listen to him.
Buggy himself would live a good life being a very much known marine (vice admiral) having Rosi by his side (this is a Corazon lives AU) and be happy.
I even think that Luffy would be on Buggy’s side if he heard that story. But still would not stop being a pirate
#one piece#buggy#buggy the clown#op buggy#shanks#buggy x corazon#corazon#donquixote “corazon” rosinante#sengoku the buddha#monkey d. luffy#monkey d garp#buggy deserves better#gol d roger#roger pirates#the roger pirates are dicks#shanks is not bad but naive#buggy and his luck
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I’m really mad at the show for insinuating that ALICENT who worships the seven and wears the seven pointed star necklace in almost every scene was the one who forced Helaena and Aegon to marry each other.
The seven condemn incest and Alicent herself seems disturbed by the tradition, so the only way I think this could have gone down is if Viserys gave Alicent the ultimatum that Helaena could ether marry Jace or Aegon because both matches would “ keep the Valaryon blood pure”, according to Viserys since he would rather gouge his eyes out then admit that the strong boys are bastards. So obviously when presented with the choice of ether giving her daughter away to the man who’s right to the throne will undoubtedly be contested by her trueborn sons which will most likely result in an armed conflict with Helaena as a hostage ( not to mention she’d have to live with Daemon and Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, giving the blacks the greens only egg laying dragon which may turn the future war in their favor) OR giving her away to her son, whom she knows and thinks she can control ( In doing so keeping Helaena and Dreamfrye on their side and assuring her daughters safety at the red keep ), she obviously chose Aegon.
But there is no way Alicent just went up to Viserys and suggested they marry the two of them. There is simply nothing about Alicent believes that would justify that.
#pro team green#anti team black#anti team black stans#pro alicent hightower#anti viserys i targaryen#anti daemon targaryen#anti rhaenyra stans#anti Jacearys strong#anti Jealeana
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State of being in love. // Karen (Sirko) Karen X Reader!
prompt: goofy in love, karen proposes to you one morning with you in her arms after having relived how important you are to her in her mind. it's fluffly as fuck.
words: 1,7K.
warnings: just a few mentions of sex.
Every once in a while, when you're in love, your head fills with thoughts and memories of your special someone, as a reminder of what it was like to have found someone who actually added to your life and well-being, and Karen enjoyed those daydreams.
The night before, freed from recording the album for a day, as well as without the least bother to disturb her or you, you went out to take over the city together. You already lived in that big house with her, the boys and Camila from the beginning, honestly Karen no longer remembered how things were in her life before you, her memory was elaborate around having you by her side, and although at some point she already felt insecure about love, next to you it was as if that had never happened.
Going out with you, day or night, consisted of expecting the same things to come. You were quite the opposite of her, your clothes were more adapted for the summer, like the girls from LA dressed. Karen on the other hand, was more restrained, she didn't think that was bad, she thought you were brave for walking around like that without giving a damn little to the opinion of others, something that she could not do completely. She believed that her clothes help to present her as a member to be respected within a band full of men. But with you it was different, you had a naive face but it was far from that, and although Karen would not have the patience to argue with anyone who upset her about her decisions, you would do it for yourself, with claws and sharp teeth, and you would still do it for her if it's necessary. Karen admired you for it.
Once, in LA itself, Karen felt jealous of a guy who was being too friendly with you. Eating your body up with the eyes, all disgustingly and she hated how his hand would end up on your back every now and then. To you, he was just being friendly, you were talkative, so you were enjoying it, Karen knew you meant no harm. However, having Karen as dry as the desert in terms of her responses and looks at you, something that she doesn't usually do, at least not with you, you realized what was wrong. Without delay, you went to her and kissed her, those deep ones, where hair is pulled, bodies touch and the mind gets dizzy. Obviously the man rose from view, proving that Karen was right, however she smiled at you and thanked you, she felt that you had not invalidated her insecurity, and that meant a lot to her. Unsurprisingly, you received strange looks in your directions, and while you were happily glued to each other, incessant little cuddles and dirty touch, just like most of the couples in the bar, you were asked to leave, aka expelled.
Feeling disgusted, on that same night, you had sex in one of the local bars, Karen had pinned you to a wall in a dark place, which no longer smelled very good, and hiked up your mini skirt, marking your neck and collarbone as hers, ready to use her fingers on you until your mind was nothing but floating stars in a white sky. To add, her tongue did a good job of getting you clean and dry again. You had been expelled once again, but this time for good reason.
And of course, in addition to the sex, which was an amazing thing when it came to you and which could keep Karen's head busy for hours at a time, there were the sweet moments that filled her heart even more. You were quite expressive, something Karen was still working on, you liked asking Billy for help writing verses, resulting in Karen getting love letters when she felt sad or stressed or just because you wanted her to read one. Some days, you would leave a small piece of paper, sometimes even a napkin from a snack bar, it doesn’t matter, written in your messy handwriting, inside her shoes or coat. She loved it and it never failed to make her day better. Billy always asked about the verses, wanting to know if she had received it, Karen just laughed awkwardly, a state only you could make her reach, and Billy already knew the answer even without her saying anything.
In addition, you always get him stuff that reminded you of her, you were passionate about it, you arrived with a tallow book, saying that you thought of her when you read the description or clothes from a thrift store, claiming that they would look perfect on her, and it really did. You also loved to get her favorite flowers to give to her at some of the band's concerts, you were always there, jumping around and praising her over the night. At first she found it lame, but it was impossible not to fall in love with you and your little details.
And there she was, looking at you sleeping in her arms, solemn and naked, still with a sex bliss, with your hair tousled.
You wake up to the feeling of soft kisses all over your cheeks. You open your eyes to see Karen smiling down at you.
"Good morning, my love," she says, her voice low and husky. Her face was lit before you, which made you feel cozy.
You stretch and yawn, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. "Good morning, Karen. What's going on?" You hugged her closer, burying your face in her breasts. She laughed at how goofy you were.
Karen leans down to kiss you on the lips, her hands cradling your face. "I want to marry you," she whispers against your mouth. Simple and honest. Something that was expected of you and not so much of her, but she couldn't be more right.
You sit up in bed, surprised. Looking at her with a silly face. Was she serious? She seemed to be. "What? Are you for you?"
Karen nodded, her eyes bright and clear. You loved her with all your heart. "Completely serious. I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" She continued as if this was an easy decision to make overnight. You had never talked about marriage, at least not in the formal way, but you planned to be together for a long time. Maybe there wasn't that much of a difference.
You look at her, your heart full of love and joy. "Of course, Karen. I will marry you, gladly." You smiled big, she would never forget that.
Karen pulled you into a tight embrace, her arms wrapped around you. "Thank you, my love. I promise to make you happy every single day."
You hug her back, feeling overwhelmed with emotion in her warm morning body. "I know you will, Karen. You already do. I love you so much."
Karen broke away and looked at you, her eyes shining with some tears. "Let's get married today. I don't want to wait any longer." You laughed funny at her momentary urgency, but you felt the same way. If you had accepted, why would you both leave it for later?
You smile and nod. "Okay, let's do it. I'll get ready, and then we can go to the courthouse and make it official."
Karen jumps out of bed, her energy infectious. "Yes, let's go! This is the best day ever, Jesus Christ." And in that moment you can see a piece of yourself in her. You couldn't imagine her acting like that with anyone but you.
As you get dressed, you can't help but feel like everything is falling into place. You and Karen may be different, but you complement each other perfectly. She brings a sense of calm and stability to your life, and you bring a sense of joy and spontaneity to hers. Together, you know that you can conquer anything.
You leave the house hand in hand, ready to start your new life as a married couple. The future is uncertain, but you know that as long as you have each other, everything will be okay.
Everything was easier than expected, not exactly in a courthouse, but Karen knew a man and for good money, you solved it without difficulty. You were more than happy and had bought a cheap ring from an antique shop around the corner from home, you didn't care if you had rings or not, however you thought it appropriate to have a pair for when you went to tell the boys and Camila when you got back.
They hated not being told, and they weren't surprised, the team claimed they expected no less from you. Still outraged, they decided to make a sort of wedding for you, completely improvised, Camila glued aluminum foil strips on the balcony and Billy was the shepherd. The boys took care of the music and setting, they all just wanted to be part of that special moment with you.
When it was the official time, you weren't nervous, but there in front of your friends it was different, as if you were realizing it, like hitting your hard on the mind, it was something big and you loved it. Graham walked you up to Karen, he kissed you on the head, all smiling and asked you to take care of her. Karen welcomed you with open arms and then you noticed that she had tears running down her rosy cheeks, soon you hugged her tight and couldn't help but cry too. She was everything to you and she was yours. To be honest, everyone was emotional, and seeing you both there, getting emotional during the vows and Billy crying when declaring you married, even with it being just acting, was something strong and overwhelming, as if you were really made for each other.
#daisy jones and the six#karen karen#suki waterhouse#djats#karen sirko#karen karen x reader#karen sirko x reader#karen sirko smut#karen karen smut
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Hi there! How are you? Can I please request a romantic Fyodor x male! Angel! Reader fic? So reader is an angel... but the kicker? He's the most un-angelic angel ever.
Like, he has powers capable of eradicating the human race, but he'd rather use them to mess with people. Reader is an intelligent being with the curiosity of a scientist, finding joy in disrupting the controlled equilibrium that others (cough, Fyodor) strive to maintain. His energy is infectious, turning any environment into a playground for his whims and fancies. He also does not know anything about human culture or human intricacies. Like, (for example), reader will accidentally tickle Fyodor and be enthralled by the results because reader has never seen the phenomenon of being ticklish. Like, what do you mean if I poke you, you’ll laugh? Black magic, I say! Basically, he's an innocent smart dumbass that tries his best and is probably Nikolai's BFF. Fyodor loves him either way. I can also see Fyodor not having the guts to manipulate a literal angel considering that he is canonically very religious.
Fydor x Angel Reader (gender neutral )
Nothing but thoughts and normal funny day-to-day stuff.
This request was such a good idea but the more I think about it I feel like I might want to write a freaking research paper on how power dynamics, control equilibrium and all work so I kept this kinda short .
“Please be quiet the two of you “ he said his voice laced with anger tiredness and sleep (which he would never accept ) . “Come on Fyda !” you whined as Nikolai joined you and it was not long before you 2 were kicked out of his office for disturbing him.
It was not that your thoughts were wrong or they were not inhuman well you were but the mere fact that your thoughts were disturbing his whole life mission was the problem and you being a dumb angel was no help to the religious freak anaemic patient.
Fyodor and Nikolai found you lifeless in one of the corner streets white feathers all around you and a book which vanished the moment Fydor tried to touch it .
After carrying you home they were first “ i am dreaming ?” Fydor mumbled, “Maybe we did not sleep for 3 days right ?” Nikolai suggested for the first sound saying something that makes sense.
They could not believe the fact that you were an angel well …” Angel but not angel ?” you said shly rubbing your neck “ i kinda am in my punishment for playing around with humans “ you said making your wings disappear while the 2 just kept listening and observing the sight before them.
“Ok you an angel and you are in your punishment phase but why ?” Fydor asked after hours of you convincing and showing proof by telling them when people die .
“Well you see , i don't like some ideas of humans, “ you said sitting up straight and sounding eager “What are they ?” “ well control, power over something. Like why ?” you said getting up and walking as you explained on how just stupid it was and if they wanted something from someone why not just manipulate them on spot get the job done and leave why hold on to it .
You laos explained on how you tried to destroy that kind of dynamics and accidentally told all the incidents which Fydor had planned very carefully “ no wonder they failed, it was the ADA or PM it was him “ Nikolai burst out laughing pointing a finger at you .
Looking confused you trun to Fydor and ask what his friend means when he explain all the time you had interacted in earth you were disturbing his plans “ ohh right well then why would you want to have that man under your control when you can kill his daughter and make him work for you for that day alone? “ you asked
Soon small talk and self-introductions turned into a lengthy intellectual conversation where you and Fydor shared your opposing view . After hours you both came to a end where you would hang out with him and learn about earth while in return “ …” Fydor paused “ well what do you want ?” you asked turning your head slightly to the side “ i will ask later “ he stated.
But the fact of having strings on an angel , an actual real life (angles don't breath that's why you were found” lifeless”) angel was being stopped by his religious manner he would not want to “sin “ anymore would he ? no and so thus .
You stay with them learning about the human world “ what without consuming these things you guys die ?” you asked starting at the table of food “ is this black magic ? os has the devil cursed you ?” you would ask.
“What's wrong “ you asked worried when you accidentally poked Nikolai in his tickle spot “ okay wait ! you guys laugh when i press certain places “ you said eyes sparkling with new information.
“You guys do too much work , what is money anyway? earth gives you food and water why pay for it ? god made it for you right ?” all your silly questions were answered but the utmost patience by Fydor cause not all can see Angels only he could .
Being powerful was already to his head and the mere fact he was in contact with a out of human world made his ego rise higger than heaven if possible. Well you still learnt a lot of “ new” things about the world while you shared your opposing views of Fydor's ideas.
This only leads the man to get both parties' perspectives and plans more accurately and in turn be more dangerous.
The only reason he has not made you "sin " or manipulate you was cause you were an angel " you should be happy you met me this way " he would say confusing your poor angel brain.
#bungo stray dogs fanart#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs dazai#bungou stray dogs smut#fydor dostoevsky#fydor x reader#fydor x angel reader#bsd fyodor#bsd nikolai#bungo stray dogs x reader#night dazai#random thoughts
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could you write more AGSZC goth witch poly hcs possibly plz? i read your original post and...now i need more of it in my life
Well if you need it who am I to deny you😌… hmmm let’s see:
Zack tends to find random spell bags and witch bottles all over his apartment. This is usually Clouds doing but Genesis has also been known to hide a protection charm in the pocket of his work pants from time to time.
Angeal has a big leather bound book full of “family recipes” that looks like it’s made out of cerulean drake skin. Zack swears he’s heard it growl before… he doesn’t ask.
Sephiroth does not own a cat, yet there seems to always be one with him. He says they just follow him, and honestly, he’s probably right. hojo has yet to figure out how they keep getting into his lab and fucking with his results.
Cloud is covered in witchy/gothic related tattoos. moth on his breast bone, triple moon goddess on his side, lunar cycle down his spine - you know, the classics.
Angeal’s most disturbing habit (according to Zack anyway) is enthusiastically yelling “dead things!” When he finds taxidermy in antique shops. They have too much Taxidermy. Seriously Angeal stop with the stuffed birds!
Genesis has a tongue piercing. They all found that out the errr… fun way. Ahem… MOVING ON.
Sephiroth does Yoga at weird times of day, in weird places. He ropes cloud and Genesis into it too. It’s not unusual for Angeal to send Zack onto the roof to call them in to dinner because they are meditating under the full moon.
Crystals. Crystals everywhere. Don’t move them you will upset the little gothic chocobo in the corner. No seriously you’ll mess with the resonance don’t touch them.
Genesis watches true crime like it’s reality TV. They and Angeal sit together and discuss motive and mind sets of killers. It’s unnerving
Clouds an artist. He’s very creative and spends most of the time designing tattoos and drawing witchy stuff.
They are patented members of the gothic night club down town. It’s a bit too kinky for Zacks taste but he’s happy as long as he’s with them.
When they go out in public all of them have two modes, and those are: face full of makeup(except Angeal he keeps it natural), killer heels/ smart shoes, the most elaborate clothing you’ve ever seen. OR. Slouchy cloths and no eyebrows, hair needs re-dyed, boba or coffee cup, comfy slippers/ boots. There is no in between state.
Contrary to popular believe (*cough* Kunsal) Genesis doesn’t actually drink Zack’s blood and use vampire mind control tactics that they definitely don’t have on him. Even if they could do that there wouldn’t be a point. All they’d have to do is flutter their eyelashes at him and he’s dying for their attention.
#ffvii#crisis core#goth witch partners#goth witch boyfriends#golden retriever boyfriend zack fair#cloud strife#genesis rhapsodos#zack fair#angeal hewley#sephiroth crescent#agszc#agszc headcanon#ASGZC#ask#ask answered#anon ask#anonymous#I liked writing these
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Sen. John Fetterman could land himself in trouble with voters after he doubled down on his claims that he is not a progressive Democrat, despite comments he made during his election campaign.
"I'm not a progressive, I'm just a regular Democrat," Fetterman said on X, formerly Twitter.
The statement was contradicted by the website's community notes feature, referencing tweets from Fetterman in 2016 and 2020 in which he clearly said he was a progressive.
Despite the contradiction, Fetterman has noticeably shifted away from the position upon which he narrowly defeated Donald Trump-endorsed Dr. Mehmet Oz in the 2022 midterms.
Politicians such as Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, an independent closely aligned with the left of the Democratic Party, have called for a ceasefire in Gaza, whereas Fetterman has said he supports the Israeli response to the attack by the Palestinian militant group Hamas on October 7 "unequivocally," despite criticism that it has been too strong.
"I just think I'm a Democrat that is very committed to choice and other things. But with Israel, I'm going to be on the right side of that," Fetterman said.
The Pennsylvania senator's stance on Israel is a particular source of ire for many who consider themselves part of the progressive movement, largely younger voters.
A November 2021 poll by Pew Research recorded that 71 percent of the progressive left movement is made up of people aged 18 to 49.
It is young voters that favored Fetterman in his 2022 Senate race against Oz. According to an exit poll taken by Statista, 72 percent of voters aged 18-24 who answered said they voted for the Democrat. The figure was similar for voters aged 25 to 29, at 68 percent.
His position on Israel-Gaza could spell trouble among this voter demographic. According to a New York Times/Siena poll published on Tuesday, 45 percent of people aged 18 to 29 think President Joe Biden is "too supportive" of Israel. In the same age group, 46 percent of people who responded said they were supportive of Palestine, compared to 27 percent favoring Israel.
The same poll said that just 20 percent of all voters aged 18 to 29 believe Biden is handling the conflict well. Asked about the result on CNN on Tuesday, Fetterman said: "If you're getting your perspective on the world on TikTok, it's going to tend to be kinda warped."
He added: "Sometimes you may alienate some voters, but it is really most important to be on the right side on that. That's where I am at."
A total of 16 of his former campaign staffers wrote him an open letter, asking him to change his stance.
"It is not too late to change your stance and stand on the righteous side of history," it said.
An op-ed in news outlet PennLive was published in November by Mireille Rebeiz, Ph.D., chair of Middle East Studies and associate professor at Dickinson College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in which his position on the issue was labeled "disturbing" and saying he was "unworthy of my trust."
Fetterman has called for humanitarian aid to be sent to Gaza, but criticized pro-Palestinian protesters when they staged a demonstration outside a Jewish-owned store in Philadelphia in December, calling the gathering antisemitic.
Immigration is also a divisive issue in Congress, and Fetterman has made it clear he wants to work with Senate Republicans and says it is a "reasonable conversation" to have. The GOP has pushed for stricter measures along the southern border with Mexico.
"It's a reasonable conversation—until somebody can say there's an explanation on what we can do when 270,000 people are being encountered on the border, not including the ones, of course, that we don't know about," Fetterman said to NBC. "To put that in reference, that is essentially the size of Pittsburgh, the second-largest city in Pennsylvania."
His wife, Gisele Fetterman, arrived undocumented from Brazil as a 7-year-old and was an important part of his Senate campaign. Some accused him of throwing his wife under the bus because of his stance.
Newsweek has reached out to Fetterman via email through his Senate office for comment.
"Fetterman has never been progressive, but endorsing talks for tougher immigration laws when he's married to an incredible woman who was once an illegal immigrant and who kept his campaign alive while he was recovering from a stroke is actually sickening," said Alexandra Hunt, a former Democrat candidate for Pennsylvania's 3rd Congressional District.
The conversation around Fetterman has some such as left-leaning commentator Mehdi Hasan questioning if he is the "new Kyrsten Sinema," the Arizona senator who became an independent in 2022.
"Fetterman has been a pleasant surprise for his Republican colleagues and a thorn in the side of progressive Democrat," Hasan wrote in British news magazine The Spectator in December. He added: "One still has to wonder if he might follow in Sinema's footsteps and officially extricate himself from the two-party system."
Sinema cited a "deeply broken two-party system" as the reason she left the Democratic Party in 2022.
However, Heath Mayo, a conservative who founded the anti-Trump nonprofit Principles First, praised Fetterman.
"John Fetterman is testing a lot of new boundaries for the Democratic Party right now. Aggressively pro-Israel, pro-border security, anti-corruption in his own party[...]That's principled leadership and Dems should embrace it. He is speaking to a lot of us," Mayo said.
On X, Hasan said Fetterman's comments on him not being aligned with the progressive movement was "a total attack on the people who worked hard to elect him."
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With each passing race I become more and more bitter.
I love Lewis for what he has achieved in the sport, but my goodness his fans put me off. Why do they always have to hate on George for no reason? It’s disturbing and cult like, people can beat your driver.
When he first joined the team I was so excited to see how the move benefited his career, but it’s come to the point where I want him out of it. Time and time again his teammate, team principle and members of the team throw him under the bus time and time again. I hate seeing people who rated him in Williams turn against him.
Mercedes won’t win championships any time soon and I want George to have the opportunity to do so. I can’t remember the last time I watched a race live. You know RB are gonna win the rest. Maybe next year will be better.
Lewis is a great driver. But he needs to realise that he's not going to lose by losing out against George. George was better all weekend the result may not show this in points but anyone who really watches knows. He may even be a great person. I'm personally getting the ick from the people he surrounds himselves with but let's be honest. They're all privileged and rich. Even Lewis as the only black driver. As the most succesful driver.
His fans are an abusive bunch of shit. And I mean that. With Max I didn't say a lot because I personally didn't see a lot of abuse that wasn't a direct reply to racism. And both sides were wrong. With Nicky it was unwarranted. The FIA and Red Bull are so much more to blame and for Nicky to hire security to protect his girlfriend (because he was scared of something happening to Sandy more than himself). They're visibly sending out "kill yourselves" to people. To minors. And no their excuses mean nothing. Not if we're already back to part two of the vicious cycle of dealing with team Lh. Tomorrow they'll pretend nothing ever happened.
Honestly Lewis, as long as he continues glorifying his fans the way he does and giving people the reason to believe they are right and they have nothing to fear. I'm through with him. I'm not claiming there aren't assholes along the George Russell fans. Even Alex Albon fans can get it wrong sometimes. Being a Lewis fan doesn't make you an asshole. As much as being a George fan doesn't make you a racist or fatphobic and stuff. And I'm aware that just because there are black sheep in every section of driver fans and it's generalising to claim there'S an issue with Lewis fans that I amd oing what I'm condoning.
Maybe it's being friends with someone who claimed "yeah okay that's bad but I got one hate anon by a George fan so both sides are bad". But I'm bitter. In 2021 y'all wanted him what are you so afraid of?
George showed a lot more this weekend than any driver did the whole year. He can drive on the same level as the world champions on the grid. He is the driver to look out for. He makes these mistakes and never makes them again. He takes responsibility (other than others who blame their team, the wind, George Russell, Oscar Piastri, the sun, the moon and the stars). The pace he's been showing. He's going to be a problem to so many drivers in the future. And I guess that's the issue
As for the team. I feel like something shifted today. It's small. It's maybe just a different twitter admin. Who knows. (But for Shov to not even mention Lewis). Maybe I'm delulu. But at the end of the day I don't think George should go elsewhere. Not because he couldn't outdrive any driver in their current team, which I believe firmly he could. But because I'm not sure if the teams that could help him succeed would let him. Other than maybe Williams, who after the European stretch is over are probably going to go back to the back of the midfield because that's what happened 2020,2021 and 2022. No other team would let him grow as much as Mercedes. What use is a Red Bull seat if you aren't allowed to beat Max Verstappen?
So yeah. I feel like a lot of the leading engineering voices in the team are more neutral than, say Toto. Which makes sense. Lewis had a massive impact on the success of Mercedes. But let's not forget that without a team like Mercedes Lewis wouldn't have had the success he had as well. Mercedes is one of the best teams on the grid as much as we sometimes hate it. They can win championships in the future and I feel like the people who matter know they can do it with both Lewis and George. And that George is their future.
Mercedes can be a shit place but unless Williams turns it around for the 2024 season it is the best place for George to be.
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Rosie doesn't even trust the Emperor, and she's still asking, just because- She'd really like this not to be true, please, even though it makes- a disturbing amount of sense, actually. And now she's hearing it, all the pieces are coming together, and she'd quite like someone to tell her she's got things wrong. Even if she didn't really believe it, she could pretend to, and emotional cowardice has always been one of her vices.
This is also quite terrifying. The idea that she didn't just give into her Urge - this whole thing was her aware, conscious, acting of her own accord, possessed of the self-control she still struggles with...and choosing to use it for this.
I actually think her control over the Urge might've suffered a bit with her head injury - partly because impulsivity is a documented side-effect of TBIs, but also because of just how calculated pre-tadpole Durge seems to have been. Part of tis is just long experience, knowing how to keep the Urge fed without giving herself over entirely, but part of it is probably brain-damage-related.
And this is not helping.
Although.
I do think he's right, just not in the way he thinks. This is who Rosie is, without years of conditioning in the Bhaalist temple. It's a version of who she wanted to be when she set out to be a paladin. Not that it's her only true self, of course - the version of her he knew was as authentic an expression of her character - but...a guided one. It was who she could grow to be while on Bhaal's leash, having had all her idealism and everything she hoped she could be broken in the most terrible way imaginable.
There are aspects which are purely a result of the brain damage - brain injury often causes personality shifts, and certain of her capabilities have shifted a result. Her DEX score used to be rather higher, so did her INT, and she has a bit more trouble planning, even though her first instinct is towards caution and restraint. However, Rosie is...in many ways, a pretty pure expression of what she had once hoped to grow up to be, before Sceleritas came calling.
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i wanna talk about this scene in queen’s shadow that perfectly mirrors padmé’s funeral
“Padmé Amidala was completely still.
The brown halo of her hair spread out around her, softened here and there by white blossoms that had blown through the air to find their rest amongst her curls. Her skin was pale and perfect. Her face was peaceful. Her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped across her stomach as she floated. Naboo carried on without her.
Even now, at the end, she was watched.
It was no more than was to be expected. Ever since she'd entered the arena of planetary politics, her audience had been unceasing. First they had commented on her interests and ideals, then later on her election to queen. Many had doubted her strength in the face of an invasion, when the lives and well-being of her people would be held ransom against her-hers to save if only she would give up her signature-and she had proven them all wrong. She had ruled well. She had grown in wisdom and experience, and had done both rapidly. She had faced the trials of her position unflinching and unafraid. And now, her time was ended.
A small disturbance, the barest movement through the otherwise peaceful water, was Padmé's only warning before her attacker struck.
An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her down into the clear shallows, holding her there just long enough to let her know that she had been bested.
The Queen of Naboo surfaced, sputtering water in the sunlight as her handmaidens—her friends—laughed around her.”
so clearly there’s a connection between the ends of an era, both for the world/galaxy as a whole and for padmé herself. this scene takes place on padmé’s last day as queen of naboo.
in this scene she’s peaceful by choice; she’s relaxing and waiting for the election results. but then why compare it to her death?
padmé’s funeral is like a marker for the end of the republic as a whole. by the end of the clone wars i’m pretty sure she was one of the only people who still had unwavering faith in the republic that she refused to give up, despite what she’d seen. the jedi were wary, most coruscant citizens were wary, and even though the separatists were losing they had a lot of systems on their side. several clones had either uncovered secrets or deserted, etc etc. so padmé’s funeral is like symbolism for the death of democracy.
and this is especially interesting because after padmé’s term as queen ends, the next queen is someone padmé and all of her friends and bodyguards did NOT vote for and were not happy to see on the throne.
it’s also the death of one version of padmé—the queen— and the birth of the senator. queen’s shadow goes on and on about how different and confusing the senate is and how much padmé has to change and all the political turmoil she gets involved in. the most interesting to me is how upon becoming senator, she was ridiculed by news outlets, ridiculed by fellow senators, mistrusted by bail organs and mon mothma, and made out to be a little, foolish girl under someone else’s control. much of the same as when she was queen! but as we see in clone wars, padmé builds a reputation for herself and is among the most trusted of all senators.
so why was this change represented with a parallel to her death?
i’m guessing it can be interpreted two ways. upon dying, padmé was laid to rest with recall to the most peaceful she’d ever been; no longer a queen, and not yet a senator; just at peace, with the people she trusted most. the scene abruptly ends with one of her handmaidens pulling her under. it’s calling us out of the connection and reminding us she still has a long way to go before she can really have peace. the other is that taking on the role of senator, of joining the republic when it was so clearly dying, was a way of killing padmé in and of itself. to fight for something that will fall in the end would slowly kill her.
anyways. i love padmé and i believe she made the right choices again and again, but she, just like everyone else, was doomed from the beginning
#i haven’t read queen’s peril or queen’s hope so no spoilers pls#but idk. is this anything? maybe there’s another way to look at it#queen’s shadow#naboo handmaidens#star wars#padmé amidala
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So now Israel bombed a hospital, around a thousand people dead, most of them children. Still defending this terrorist state that has been committing war crimes for last 8 decades? This is a genocide, plain and simple.
It is so obvious who this is because I just had a conversation with you. Why can't you just leave an ask from your account? Lol.
First of all, all I did was ask what would be a realistic response Israel should have as a state to Hamas kidnapping, raping and murdering over 1000 of its citizens on the 7th of October. The conversation right now is that Israel is a comic book villain when the reality is that, of course, an attack like that is going to result in retaliation and war, no matter who does it. It is unrealistic to assume anything else. Any sensible person can understand that.
Why do you think Russia, still in its own aggression war against Ukraine, has backed Hamas attacks? So, that the Israel-Arab conflict would escalate, take international attention away from Ukraine, and put strain on USA who has provided most of the aid for Ukraine. Everybody, EVERYBODY, knows Hamas attacks would lead to a new war.
It is telling that nobody has managed to answer my question, but the response is always an attempt to derail the conversation by emotional guilt trip about "genocide" and "ethnic cleansing" and "dead children". There are dead children on both sides. I have seen people endorse an attack on Israeli civilians and chant for genocide of the Jews all around the world since the 7th of October. And I do still think "genocide" and "ethnical cleansing" are not buzz words just to be thrown around, but some words should actually still have definitions.
So far, IDF has claimed they did not fire the rocket, but it was a misfire from Hamas and its ally Islamic Jihad. I have been told I shouldn't believe IDF because it is not a neutral source. Simultaneously, the same people have been, however, insisting I should believe Hamas that claims it was Israel who fired the rocket. There is so much misinformation and propaganda around this conflict that I am definitely not going to take any of those two's words for it. Currently, according to GeoConfirmed (who seems like a neutral and trustworthy source), it would seem the rocket was indeed fired from Gaza. I will refrain from making further conclusions before I know more.
It is really telling how much these people like you have been foaming from the mouth since the hospital attack. It is all you have been waiting for because, to you, it makes all earlier (disturbing) excuses you made for "brave freedom fighting extremist" Hamas men raping and killing women, justified. You don't really care about civilians. You don't care about finding resolutions. To you, this is a political football match.
I don't really feel comfortable talking about this conflict any further because I do not know or understand enough of it, I can only talk about what I have observed during these past two weeks. Moreover, this is one of those topics that feels like submerging yourself into a pile of s*it neck deep.
For all these reasons, further bait asks like this will be blocked and not answered. So will all you who will eventually migrate to my blog and call me a Nazi for not taking your side of the argument. Lol.
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The time of being told "No"
A small gift for @spider-xan as she has given me several ideas for new stories and I hope to bring more of her thoughts to working order if she likes them.
This is based on her idea that it would have been more interesting if Dorian had been JEKYLL'S ex-lover and I added a few small details that she liked so the result is this, enjoy.
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Dorian grinned as he made his way down the street to the home of his soon-to-be ex-lover. Already planning his words beforehand on how to break the quiet doctor.
Their time together had been fun, the two weeks had gone by fast enough, the man not being a slouch himself when it came to pleasure, but now it was time to leave.
Offer him one last sweet embrace of passion before he left him naked and crying in the bed as Dorian made his way out of the door, and if he tried to get the immortal in trouble, well, a doctor could not do much against a man of noble blood.
Knocking on the door, waiting patiently for an answer, his twisted thoughts more than doing enough to satisfy him till the creaking of hinges called him back to reality to greet the butler, Poole, if memory served, not that Dorian Gray cared what the help was called, but he offered a polite tip of his hat anyway to hasten his entry inside the home.
The old man offered a frown and a worried look shot through his brown eyes as he laid them on who was standing in the door, weither he knew of his masters activities or simply had better sense than most on the nature of certain people, Dorian knew not and cared not.
"Is Henry in? I wish to talk to him about business" Dorian gave a smile that had made both women and men of every standing imaginable swoon and fall at his feet in a tizzy for whatever he could offer them.
Poole's frown deepened but he nodded "Yes, he is inside his study, but I would not recommend disturbing-"
"Oh, Now Poole, I appreciate your concern, but do let him in" came a soft voice from the hall as Doctor Jekyll appeared from the shadows and went to the butlers side smiling "I believe Miss Mary wanted your opinion on some teas she found at the market, why don't you go enjoy some with her? I can take care of this" Henry put his hand on the older mans back before gently turning Poole to face where the kitchens were.
"If you insist sir…but do let me know if you need anything…I am going to be just inside the kitchen with the door open" Poole said, paternal instincts no doubt in overdrive with his obvious warning of hearing anything less than proper from where he would be sitting.
"Noted and appreciated" was the reply given with another disarming smile from the redheaded man.
Poole headed off and Dorian approached reaching for the buttons on Henry's waistcoat only to have said man back up out of reach.
That was new…playing hard to get was he? Well-
"I think its time we end this"
Dorian's brain shut off for a moment, thinking about what he just heard, how did his line end up in Henry's mouth!? He had everything planned out…how did this little wallflower grow the spine to say such things to him!? This was not right!
"Who are you to say that to me?" Dorian growled, hands reaching up to pearch on his hips to appear bigger, Henry had height on him but the immortal was more muscular "I was hoping to get in one last amusing memory before I left you"
"Amusing? Suppose that is what it was" Henry smiled even wider and Dorian felt his blood boil as the man he had picked out for the doctors popular nature with crowds, but ultimately wallflowery, shy behavior signaled him out as someone who would break down into tears at being dumped, was standing there, clothing on and in perfect order, arms crossed over his chest as he stood to his full height.
"I would not stand there so smugly when I can easily inform others of your…other activities" Dorian threatened, trying to regain some form of control that was slipping like water through his fingers.
"Poole is in shouting distance, I would much rather avoid police in this instance, if there is so much as a button missing on my person, who do you think would look bad in that situation? Let us part ways in a more amicable way, shall we?" Henry bargained, walking over to a window to look outside "I have an amazing lawyer…"
There! A blush, subtle, but there.
"Oh, I see, you are getting rid of me because you have your eyes on another prize" Dorian grinned, this man was just as bad as he was! "Do send him my way when your done"
SLAP
The immortal reached up to his cheek from where Henry had slapped him, his healing abilities meant it did not hurt in the slightest, but just the fact someone had slapped him left Dorian staring in surprise.
Smelling blood Dorian opened his mouth again to get another rise out of Jekyll…
"I would never send him to such a sloppy lover"
"EXCUSE ME!?"
A dark grin spread across Jekyll's features as he also smelled blood in the water, heart pounding in his ears like a war drum "You heard me, your every inch a one trick pony, your handsome and charming, but you possess no desire to ask what anyone wants but yourself, not to mention…well…size does not matter as much as what you do with it…but in your case it might have helped"
Dorian saw red and lunged only to find himself smashing into the window cracking it with his skull as his coat was grabbed and he was thrown like a rag doll into it.
"What…" came Henry's now confused voice as he watched as what looked like sand fell before disapearing as the small cut on Dorian's head disapeared with it "What are you?"
"I'm…complicated" was all Dorian said before bolting for the door leaving a stunned doctor Jekyll behind.
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Not a long story, but hopefully something that got a chuckle.
#lxg#the league of extraordinary gentlemen (2003)#the league of extraordinary gentlemen#Jekyll#henry jekyll
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I'm asking in good faith but have you got any tips for combating internalized homophobia? I'm bi but I grew up being taught that gay and bi people are abnormal. I feel disgust when I see gay couples and I try to only focus on my attraction to women and can't help but consider the side of me that's attracted to men as disturbing and unnatural, I recognize this mindset is harmful but I have no idea where to start on trying to change it into something positive or at least neutral for now
Yo, first off. Asking for help is a great first step. You should be proud of that.
I'd like to point out that I never personally dealt with specifically internalized homophobia or biphobia. So a lot of this advice is not from personal experience. If any followers have advice, please do share.
That said:
-repetition is a good way to start normalizing things within yourself. Taking time to relax and tell yourself out loud that it's ok to like men. Even if you don't believe it right now, just telling yourself that you're allowed to like men can help in the long run. Not to be all life coach lecturing you to tell yourself "I am strong" mantras every morning. But legit, telling yourself out loud that you're allowed to like men, it's normal, you're ok, etc etc will help.
-looking for a LGBT friendly therapist may also help.
-likewise with the therapy, unpacking why you think it's unnatural can be useful in figuring out your next step. Is it religious? Look into LGBT friendly groups/places of worship within that religion. Is it trauma? Depending on the kind of trauma the solution will be different. Research and therapy would be most helpful. Is it apart of how you were raised? Something completely engrained in you? Unpacking things we were taught so young is especially difficult and you aren't alone in having that issue. Again, the solution will be different depending on what the exact situation is. Maybe it's tied to other issues that you have to address first. Only you may know.
-exposure therapy could also potentially be helpful. I'd suggest being careful tho. You don't wanna just jump into that as it can lead to the exact opposite of your desired results. It's something you wanna do with a therapist or slowly at your own pace.
-remind yourself it's ok to take a while. It's ok to have bad thoughts. It's ok to not be completely happy with yourself. You're still growing as a person and this is a chance to grow into a person you do like.
-I'm sure you can find articles, blogs, personal accounts, etc of people dealing with the same thing. As well as how they figured themselves out. Reading these can not only be helpful to what you can do yourself, but as also reassuring showing that you can come to love your attraction to men and you are not alone. I don't have any of these accounts on hand right now. But if you have a hard time finding them let me know and I'll take some time to look for some.
-friends. I can't stress this one enough. Especially since you said you grew up being taught LGBT is wrong. Odds are you didn't have many LGBT friends growing up. You should make some. Talk to people in the community. Watch them be average normal people. It's a great way to help you overcome the negative ideas you've been taught. Online friends are good if you can't find any irl or don't think you can do that (since you seem to have a pretty strong reaction).
-do you have any black sheep in your family? People who are alienated, thrown out, shunned? Or maybe are more open minded then everyone else? There's probably more LGBT members in your family that either hide it, or were throw out of the family. If you can find them they are a great source of community and advice since they probably deal with the same issues. Even if they are the black sheep for other reasons, depending on that it is they could still be a good source of community.
-on a final note. There's no correct way to start fixing a bad mindset. No timeline or cheat cheat. No perfect strategy or best place to start. It's a matter of looking at what is wrong, what you can do, and picking something to do. It's not easy knowing where to start. But it's not like your first step has to be anything special. It doesn't even need to work. It usually takes a bit to find what works best for you. Don't be afraid to try new things and don't rush into fixing everything at once. You're allowed to take your time. You're allowed to find your own pace. It's not a race.
I don't know if this is all that helpful. As I said, I never personally dealt with it. But I wish you the best of luck. Feel free to reach out if you got more questions.
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Werill's Serenade
Episode 2:
"Show me the City of Towers!"
The booming voice of the battlemage echoed in the hall, as the mist before him started swirling, taking new colours and shape... Before morphing back into a grey mass floating in the middle of the room. Serioth muttered "Damn it", under his breath, before trying again.
"Show me the City of Towers."
Again, the fog moved, as if disturbed by the wind, but again, the image dissipated long before it could become clear.
"Please show me the City of Towers?" he tried, wincing.
Same result.
"Show me the City, damn you!"
"Are you okay?"
Serioth jumped, and turned around. Jim was standing in the doorframe. He was wearing an oversized robe, had a tired look on his face and a coffee cup in his hand. The battlemage frowned.
"What are you doing here? You told me you were going to sleep!"
And Jim needed to rest. The spell he had cast to save him left its mark. The necromancer was sickly pale, his eyes were glassy, and he had a bony silhouette. It wasn't that he was extremely thin, though he had alway been the thinner of the two, but his nearly white skin was almost translucent, leaving his bones visible. His long brow hair now had long strands of white, and his legs were slightly shaking. He was slowly recuperating, clawing his way back to the world of the living, but he still looked like one of the dead.
"I did sleep. Nine hours, in fact."
"...really?"
"Yeah. You've been staying up all night."
"Ah."
Jim crossed his arms, squinting at him.
"You've got to rest, man. I swear, if you manage to die after I made you a lich, I'm gonna kill you."
"You can't-"
"Shut up."
Serioth sighed. Jim was at his most annoying when he was right. He could see it in his own reflection, and in his years of studying magic. To be on the receiving end of so much mana had consequences. It wasn't wild magic in any way, filtered through the incantations of necromancy, the days of continuous rituals it had demanded and of course, Jim's own magic, but that was irrelevant. Mana was the force of change. And change him it did. His skin was scarred where the magic had flown, in great patches of bony white, on his torso and his back. He was quieter, having to make a conscious effort to be heard when he talked, and even his shadow was somehow thinner. Sometimes, it stopped following him entirely. None of it was permanent, but he had to take care of himself, to avoid letting his grip on the living world weaken, and becoming nothing more than a wraith. And he hadn't be doing that. His moustache, usually impeccably groomed, was a mess of brown hair going in every direction, and his muscular figure was hunched over by the weigh of fatigue.
"...fine. I'll get some rest."
"And drink some water."
"And... Drink some water. Yes. Whatever."
Jim shook his head, and sighed.
"Good. I can't believe you managed to live this long while treating yourself like shit."
"It made me strong."
There was a moment of silence between them, as Jim turning around to leave through the door.
"No. You were strong already. It just made you tired and hurt."
Serioth didn't know what to say to that. He watched him leave and sighed. Maybe he did need some sleep. Staying up all night was just unreasonable.
He looked through the window on his right, then frowned. How did he not see the sun rise? How was he not seeing it right now? This window was on the east side of the tower, he was sure of it. Was it that late? Afternoon? No... No something was wrong. He could feel it. Serioth clenched his teeth, and sat down. Maybe Werill's memetovores incident had more effect on it than he thought. Maybe he was becoming paranoid. Still. It felt so much like when that... Thing was attached to his neck. This feeling of losing touch with reality, after noticing the smallest inconsistences in...
A scream. Serioth froze. It was Jim's voice. The battlemage jumped out of the room and rushes into the corridor. The scream was still echoing, but somehow, he knew the something had stopped. The silence... Around the scream, somehow, was heavier. And then, he saw it.
It was above Jim. A great thing of skin and teeth. A bald, naked head, tall as a standing man, at the hand of a gigantic neck. Its eyes were two white, sightless orbs. Its flesh was almost visible through its grey, scroll like skin. And its maw... No word could describe the gaping, terrible thing that it used as a mouth. A black holes that did not simply swallow light, but consumed and erase it entirely. It was barred with pointed teeth that looked like those of a deep sea fish, dripping with blood from the wound it had inflincted on Jim, as the necromancer was trying to keep it at bay with a dagger that looked ridiculous in comparaison.
A false hydra, seeking to consume Jim.
Serioth jumped to action, animated by old reflexes. He knew he could not let that thing sing. The mage raised his arms, and a great spear of ice flew down the hall, catching the beast in the neck. There, it exploded in a sphere of water that gargled the song the hydra tried to let out once again. The head retracted, but Serioth did not give it any chance. He closed his fist, and a ball of fire struck the things head, exploding. The beast screamed as the smell of burned flesh invaded the tower. Finally, the scream was cut short, as a disk of ice flew through its neck, slicing it clean. The head fell, shriveling up under the heat of the flame, and Serioth finally allowed himself to bend the knee and try to catch his breath. Not for long, though.
He rushed towards Jim, who was lying on the ground, and winced. His leg looked horrible. Blood completely covered it, and the fact that it was still attached surprised the battlemage.
"Jim! Are you okay?"
Jim smiled, clenching his teeth.
"Yep! Just peachy!""
"Not the time. Stay still, I'll heal you."
The mage put his hands on the wound, and a green light started glowing from it as it closed.
"What... What was that..?"
"A false hydra. Worry about it later, right now, you'll need rest. Healing spells take energy from your body-"
"I know how healing spells work," said Jim, already sounding sleepy.
"Alright, alright. Don't move I'll get you to bed."
He took the necromancer into a princess carry, and stood up. There, he froze.
The neck of the false hydra was slowly retreating, like a wound tentacle. It stretched on and on, into the forest below, and out of sight.
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full article under the cut :)
When I was growing up in a conservative evangelical community, one of the top priorities was to manage children’s consumption of art. The effort was based on a fairly straightforward aesthetic theory: Every artwork has a clear message, and consuming messages that conflict with Christianity will harm one’s faith. Helpfully, there was a song whose lyrics consisted precisely of this aesthetic theory: “Input Output.”
Input, output,
What goes in is what comes out.
Input, output,
That is what it’s all about.
Input, output,
Your mind is a computer whose
Input, output daily you must choose.
The search for the “inputs” of secular artwork sometimes took a paranoid form—such as the belief in subliminal messages recorded in reverse, or in isolated frames from Lion King where smoke allegedly forms the word sex. Most often, however, the analysis was more direct. Portraying a behavior or describing a belief, unless accompanied immediately by a clear negative judgment, is an endorsement and a recommendation, and people who consume such messages will become more likely to behave and believe in that way.
This theory underwrote the whole edifice of Christian contemporary music, which aimed to replace a particularly powerful avenue for negative messages. One of my running jokes for many years has been that all Top 40 music is effectively Christian contemporary music now; American Idol confirmed the hegemony of the “praise band” vocal style. More clear is the fact that all mainstream criticism—especially of film and television—is evangelical in form, if not in content. Every artwork is imagined to have a clear message; the portrayal of a given behavior or belief is an endorsement and a recommendation; consumption of artwork with a given message will directly result in the behaviors or beliefs portrayed. This is one of the few phenomena where the “both sides” cliché is true: Left-wing critics are just as likely to do this as their right-wing opponents. For every video of a right-wing provocateur like Ben Shapiro decrying the woke excesses of Barbie, there is a review praising the Mattel product tie-in as a feminist fable.
Here, however, I am more concerned with the critical practices of my comrades on the left. Among leftist publications, Jacobin stands out for its reductive and moralizing cultural coverage. Addressing the other major movie of this past weekend, for instance, the critic Eileen Jones worried in a recent column, “If you’re already convinced of the dangers of nuclear war, superseded only by the ongoing end-times series of rolling climate catastrophes that now seem more likely to kill us all, this film is going to lack a certain urgency.” Sadly, instead of an educational presentation on nuclear war, film audiences will instead find a biopic that takes some liberties with its subject’s life and character for the sake of creating a Hollywood blockbuster. Jones finds more to like in Barbie, despite “the familiar, toothless, you-go-girl pseudo-feminist pieties that Mattel has been monetizing for decades, alongside the nostalgic how-can-our-consumer-products-be-bad affirmations of Barbie as some sort of magic, wholesomely progressive uniter of generations of mothers and daughters.”
This trend is not limited to one publication. It is pervasive in online culture, above all on social media. For instance, over coffee on the morning after the epic Barbenheimer Friday, I learned some disturbing facts about Oppenheimer on Twitter. At least one viewer was worried that the film about the man who created the nuclear bomb did not include any Japanese characters. Indeed, it did not even directly portray his invention’s horrific consequences. Surely this aesthetic choice was meant to minimize his actions by rendering his victims invisible. (An article in New York magazine drew attention to the same absence.) I also learned that the area surrounding Los Alamos was actually cleared of Indigenous and Hispanic residents, another bit of history that is effectively erased by the film.
Let’s imagine, though, that those complaints had been anticipated and addressed. Let’s imagine an entire subplot of a family going about their business in Hiroshima. We get to know and like them, to relate to them as our fellow human beings. Then, shockingly, they are incinerated by a nuclear blast. One can already hear the complaints. If the family were portrayed as too morally upstanding, it would be a dehumanizing portrayal that idealizes them as perfect victims. If they had moral flaws, the film would be subtly suggesting that they deserved their fate. And either way, the film would be attacked for offering up their suffering as a spectacle for our enjoyment. The same would go for the displaced population of Los Alamos—by portraying them as passive victims with no agency, critics would surely complain, the film would be reinscribing white authority.
Obviously leftists do not have to be as paranoid in their quest for messages supportive of the status quo as Christians playing their records backwards in the hopes of finding satanic content. And of course we are a long way from having anything like the real-world thought police of Stalinism. During that dark era of Soviet history, writers and artists were expected to subscribe to the standards of socialist realism—which, instead of portraying the sordid and brutal reality of the present, anticipated the future reality of socialism by showing heroic workers building a utopian society. Those who fell short of those ideological expectations could expect a personal phone call from Comrade Stalin, if not worse. By contrast, it seems relatively harmless to hope that films and TV shows might reflect one’s own politics and to lament when they fail to do so. Yet the very fact that the demand is so open-ended that it is impossible to imagine an artwork meeting its largely unstated and unarticulated standards shows that something has gone wrong here.
To be clear, I don’t want to defend Oppenheimer in any way. I have not actually seen the film. Nothing anyone is saying is necessarily wrong; it’s just not interesting. Like most film and TV viewers, I read reviews because I want to decide whether or not to see a given movie or show, or else to think it through from a fresh perspective. For example, I note that Oppenheimer is very long—how is the pacing? Does it maintain a clear focus throughout, or does it indulge the common vice of biopics by trying to cram too much in? The type of critical literature that concerns me does not address such basic aesthetic questions, or does so only incidentally.
Even more insidiously, though, the logical goal of such very narrow standards could be to create artwork that is straightforward political propaganda. We’ve seen how badly that turned out for the evangelicals (and, indeed, for the Stalinists). Even if we are unlikely to face the scourge of a Leninist equivalent to VeggieTales, however, this style of criticism infantilizes its audience members by assuming they are essentially ideology-processing machines—unlike the wise commentator who somehow manages to see through the deception.
Political problems cannot be solved on the aesthetic level. And it’s much more likely that people are consuming politics as a kind of aesthetic performance or as a way of expressing aesthetic preferences than that they are somehow reading their politics off Succession, for example (“Welp, I guess rich people are good now. Better vote Republican!”). Just as the reduction of art to political propaganda leads to bad art, the aestheticization of politics leads to bad, irresponsible politics. That’s because aesthetics and politics are not the same thing. They are not totally unrelated, obviously, but they are also and even primarily different. A political message can be part of an aesthetic effect, just as a political movement can benefit from an aesthetic appeal. But we get nowhere if we confuse or collapse these categories.
This story was adapted from a post on Adam Kotsko's blog, An Und Für Sich.
#oppenheimer#barbie#the appreciation of art done merely thru the lens of virtue is so Boring#and so deeply familiar#the evangelical/fundamentalist christians did it first and they're still doing it better lmaooo#the milquetoast christian 'art' scene is so wonderfully expansive and so unbelievably dull
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NAME: Augustus Dunne
GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis man / He/Him
AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 32 years old / November 26th
HOMETOWN: Westerly, RI
TIME IN WESTERLY: Returned 6 months ago
RESIDENCE: Downtown
OCCUPATION: Doctor at Rhode Island Medical Center
I KNOW THAT IT’S OVER, I DON’T NEED YOUR —— closure.
“no sugar, darling. we cannot risk you gaining weight again.”
a curt nod, nothing else to add to this simple truth. his mother knows best, she always had. it would mortify him to lose the role of the perfect son just because he dared to eat a pastry. but his mother is here, makes sure he eats the right portions, the right greens - only the food that would make him better. auggie needs to be perfect this time.
on the other side of the table, his father is not even sparing them a glance. this soirée is important, a deal must be dealt, one they could all benefit from. clarissa, his mother, she smiles and nods. that is all they can do, for william, right now. smile and nod. smile and nod and shut up. they must shine for him, for all his efforts for the family (she told him this, a few years back, hiding in the darkness of his enormous bedroom, and he has held so tight to this knowledge, that he is nothing more than a disturbance in the busy lives of his parents). father deserves it. they all play a part in the family.
diamonds are adorning his mother’s long, smooth blonde hair, shining upon her pale skin. she is wearing nothing but the most exquisite emerald dress, and auggie admires the way every gaze fly her way when she moves across the room. clarissa dunne (née keane), one of the most up-and-coming fashion designer in new york, knows how to direct a crowd, charm her way through every heart, every soul. young auggie wants this. the attention she gives others, the way she looks at them, without looking through them.
like she does with him
he sees how even his father steals glances at her. how lucky she is.
her big, soft blue eyes, are laughing as she exchanges polite pleasantries with the other women. auggie does his role to perfection, he hopes william notices. would notice how his son has not opened his mouth all night, has been a good boy. how every now and then, his mother’s hand comes and readjusts his bowtie or puts back in its place a wild curl.
come now, you demon-child. stay pretty for mama
they all love him, these women. tell clarissa how her son is perfect, so well-mannered and polite. ms. vickers tells her he should eat a little bit more, though. he hasn’t even touched his foie gras, clarissa. It would not do him wrong to eat a little! strangers’ expectations of what he should do, eat, read - they don’t matter. he does not care, his attention is focused on something else. someone else.
auggie musters some courage to look up at his father, and, unexpectedly, actually meets his eyes. william dunne holds his gaze for a minute (a minute, or a lifetime?) before turning back his attention to the conversation (between real men, he would tell his son often). at this very moment, something dark and ugly creeps up alongside his spine, setting its claws in the very core of young auggie’s innocence.
only years later would he recognize, put a name on this destructive feeling : shame.
“really, this attitude… he gets it from your side of the family.”
“you’re not serious, william? did you see your mother?” a pause, heavy with the most recent insinuations from the accusation. “she believes herself queen of the fucking world, speaks to us, to me, as if we’re nothing but dogs and lowlives. she’s as arrogant as your son!”
“definitely not. this brat, that’s your son.”
the road ahead is flat, uneventful. trees are running, and augustus tries to find someone, something, hiding into the trees. his father’s driving, fast and careless. his mother is fixing her makeup again. they’re both trying to convince each other that auggie is not their son; that his faults are a result of either DNA, and not a result of their parenting. never would they win an award for being the most present, caring parents. both are successful, sure– william is, after all, the heir of Standard Oil, his mother an up-and-coming fashion designer. they fight, alot. not often about all their children. but a lot of the time about their son. they often do that when the boy messes up. today, it’s a fist in an annoying girl’s face. she kept telling him that he was stupid. kept laughing at him you have girl hair and pointing at him. his mother always told him that he should never hit girls but his father always told him that real men stand up when they are intimidated, bullied. so why, oh why, is it bad that he hit angela’s bird-like face? she certainly deserved it. auggie is a real man, he stood up.
his mother sighs, auggie keeps his attention focused on the road outside. she turns to him, her blonde hair encircling her face, accentuating her jaw. his mother, once the most beautiful woman in his opinion, though the epitome of refinement, has eyes that are never kind towards her son. she told him, once, that she hated him. hated how gorgeous he was, as if he stole all of her remaining beauty. she’d been drunk, that time. william had sat there, in the car, driving, saying nothing. auggie was ten at that time, and he remembers this as if it just happened. he despises clarissa. can’t wait to be out of her clutches. “but for the love of god auggie, why did you have to hit that girl? you want attention so bad, is that it?” she barks the words at him, but he focuses on the scenery outside. thinks that if he keeps his attention elsewhere, then her words would slide off him. how can she be so right, yet so blind? she scoffs and turns back to rearranging her lipstick.
augustus does not understand where his anger comes from; would never quite be brave enough to look deep. it is probably rooted in this twisted thing the dunnes call family.
the trees are running, and auggie thinks he spots something dark, dangerous, lingering in the woods.
he’s fourteen and has been expelled from three different boarding schools. no matter the price his parents offer, not a lot of schools want him in their ranks. he’s been into fights, he’s been arrogant. sure, he’s bright and his grades are the best– but as soon as his parents are gone, he turns into a little monster.
of all the things they do, they send him to westerly’s private school as a last resort. he wouldn’t have minded the public educational system, rather than this prissy, snob school. it’s a school known for its disciplinary measures. principals march the corridors, teachers watch their recess time. it’s a prison, disguised as higher education. they think that he will learn his place in the world.
instead of discipline, auggie learns procrastination.
instead of control, auggie learns the taste of stolen champagne bottles.
he meets his best friend there; she is highly mean but highly fun. she teaches him how to put makeup on, lipstick red and messes up on his face. unea portrait of his mother, a pale parody, a cynical love. his new friend does not care much about a lot of things. auggie can relate.
he despises the uniform, gets detention everytime he forgets his tie. the evergoing stares of the teachers, watching them, making sure they form a line, that they don’t run in corridors, that the uniforms are pressed and cleaned. he feels like he’s HOME again, his mother pestering him about nonsensical things. nothing better for difficult childs, the principal assured his mother. she did not even say goodbye before going back to new york for work, dropping him with nannies in westerly. sorry love. i have a meeting with some investors-
it’s not all bad, auggie knows. he discovers literature, and poetry, then. gets lost in music. his new friend, soft and beautiful matty makes him listen to new bands, americans, french, even canadians. he joins his friends in secret parties, they get into bars during the weekends, even though they’re underaged. they drink and smoke, and it eases everything. no more pressure, just the low, warm feeling in his belly, like a beast that has finally calmed down.
his mother dies.
his mother dies, and leaves him alone with a father that’s barely present. a father that has no comforting words for his children as their mother died.
a father that barely looks at him, that barely knows how to interact with children, even less with teenagers. william dares, once, to be stern with his son. augustus throws a fit; and literally, a vase. at his father’s head. he will do whatever he wants with his life, he does not want this black gold that poisoned his childhood, his family, his mind. auggie swears on his own life that he’ll leave as soon as he can.
his mother’s death is a liberation. like finally, he’s able, allowed even, to breath and get his head out of the water. her overbearing presence in auggie’s life is no more. the dam breaks, he feels like finally, he has a chance to be himself. his very imperfect, horrible and ugly self.
finally.
it’s difficult, after that. their schedule barely meets, as auggie focuses back on his studies, with a side of illegal drinking and partying. he sets his eyes on a goal, a prize. one that would take him far away from william dunne, and westerly. he’ll study medicine, he’ll become a doctor. he’ll help people instead of destroying the earth with petroleum. he won’t ever have to be in the same room as his father
and if sometimes, a gentle but firm hand wakes him up to guide him back to bed instead of letting him sleep with his nose in a book…
and if sometimes, he acts sleepier just to feel his father’s arm around his shoulder well…
well, no one’s out here to call him out on it.
he’s alone. as he always has been.
coming back to westerly after leaving fourteen years ago…it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. while a lot has changed, auggie can still see the vestiges of old days. some establishments are still up and thriving, others closed. it is still as beautiful as it always was. while he thought he’d never miss it, there’s a place in his heart that feels lighter just stepping foot on the familiar pavements.
the circumstances are not the most perfect, sure. funerals are never happy; but auggie puts on a mask. sticks close to his uncle, with whom he always kept contact. meets his father’s widow, a woman he doesn’t know, doesn’t esteem (yet?). smiles when he needs to smile, shakes hands when the occasion arises. he is his parents’ son, he knows this dance. does he vomit the fucking canapés while everyone’s busy talking about nonsense? yes. are the tears falling from his eyes entirely because of it? probably not.
there’s a suitcase in his car. filled with letters, some opened. others sealed. the last one he got, heavier than the others, has been left untouched. it arrived a week after the news of his father’s death. augustus fears what it contains. not yet ready to face his father’s closure, to grant forgiveness and to accept it.
***
six months after his father’s death, Holiday House is sold. auggie leaves washington for good, to come back to westerly. he’s not a child anymore, he doesn’t need to hide anymore.
maybe…maybe he should open that last letter.
Portrayed by JOE KEERY, written by J.
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