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phyrestartr · 2 months ago

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Those Ghosts We Cannot Burn | Dabi x M!Reader

w/c: 1k cw: past trauma, canon-typical Todoroki family, mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence, graphic language, difficult relationships #Eventual NSFW, bl, dunno who is top/bottom yet lol, hurt/comfort, angst, drama, reader is yakuza, reader and dabi have history, sorta enemies to lovers?? Notes: AAAAH short little snippet but I wanted to post anyway!! I need to get drafts out of my system or I'll go mad lmao...they're all just clogging up my google docs...it's so bad dude OTL so many WIPs

(ALL tags): @kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

1. Hello, My Past

The bodies of his victims hissed and burned with a life only fire could leave in the path of destruction. Dabi knew it well–he was made the same way, after all. But they'd go on to simply disappear, their ashes fluttering away with the Autumn breeze while he continued to conquer his fate.

“Hey, you're the one they call ‘Dabi,’ right?”

The man in question paused, ears perking at that shitty, monotonous tone. Hah. It pissed him off. It made his heart hum, too. Weird.

“Who's askin'?” He drawled, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you with languid steps. When he caught sight of you in that alleyway, he almost remembered something, but couldn’t find the will to dwell on it.

“I am, on behalf of Shie Hassaikai,” you said, adjusting the cuffs of your jacket. “You've been torching our men, y’know?”

Dabi smiled. “And? You want an autograph or somethin’?”

You quirked a brow, looked him up and down, and scoffed. “You got a pen? Or, even know how to write in the first place? Don’t look the type.”

“Oi–”

“Anyway,” you continued, “You wouldn’t be willing to stop murdering ours while our respective leaders discuss their deal, hey?”

Dabi clicked his tongue. Annoying. “Their deal's got nothing to do with me.”

“Guess you're not as high up as they said, then.”

“You're a real pain in the ass, y'know?”

“It's kinda my job.”

“Maybe someone should relieve you from duty.”

A torrent of blue bloomed and crashed through the alley with the vicious hunger of a tsunami. Sparks exploded and flames lashed against stone and concrete, engulfing sky, earth, and all in-between with his show of firepower–a show he never grew tired of, one that never failed to remind him just what he lived for, what he–wait.

He squinted. What the hell?

A bright silhouette stood in the centre of the violent cleansing, wholly unmoved by the villain's flame. It wavered like a candle tousled by the night breeze, but it did not fade away with the light, nor with the wane of fire. And in the aftermath, once the alley fell quiet and dim once again, there it still stood, staring his way with a light that might rival a god's true form.

“You done?” You asked, voice crackling through a veil of blue.

Thousands of questions and thoughts rushed through his mind–what the hell was that? Who were you? What was your quirk? Why was your fire blue, too?--but he couldn't settle on one, not long enough to spit it out, anyway.

“I'll consider that a yes,” you decided. Your form re-materialized with a small flourish embers, and you breathed in deep.

Dabi tried not to let on how bothered he felt. “What the hell was that quirk?”

“Does it really matter?” You hummed, smiling. “The only thing you need to know is what you just saw–you can't get rid of me. Not with those flames of yours.”

“Hah. You sure about that, pretty boy?” His fingers twitched, eager to try his hand again. “I could crank the heat up for ya, see just how much you can handle.”

“Maybe another time,” you said, half-distracted as you checked your phone. “For now, remember what I said. Our bosses are trying to work together. Don't make this difficult.”

You turned halfway through your thought, showing Dabi your back without a care in the world. You must've really thought you couldn't be hurt by him. You must have really thought you were better than him. You must have.

But the sirens roaring toward the alley ruined his chance at demolishing you. He could take them on, but he'd rather not deal with the headache that'd follow–heaven knows he'd get reemed by some of the other villains for taking the PR crap too far.

Fucking prick, Dabi seethed silently. He'd have to kill you some other day.

–

“Touya,” you called, voice quiet.

The boy next to you, the one you squished into that single bed with whenever nightmares found him, stirred. Only your voice seemed to pull him free from the lull of dreams and nightmares, oddly.

“Yeah?” He whispered, clearing his throat, grimacing again at the scratchy stiffness to it.

“Once the doc helps you,” you started, sounding too serious for your age, “I think we should leave.”

“What?” Touya rubbed sleep from his eyes the best he could without tearing stitches and skin grafts apart. “What the hell is–”

Whatever else he had to say died in his throat when he caught a glimpse of you in the filtered moonlight; your calm, passive look of day had shifted come the night. Your face was kinder, exposing flickers of forbidden thoughts for none but one to see and soon forget, come the beckon of sleep.

“What the hell's your problem?” Touya breathed.

Your brows furrowed. “I don't want to be here,” you answered. “Have you even considered trying to go to your family? We could–”

“I did go back. Nothing's changed.” He smiled, bitter. “Those fucking sheep abandoned me already.”

“I won't abandon you,” you promised suddenly. “We can talk to them. Together. Come on, Touya–”

Touya laughed a pathetic, little sound. “Are you serious? They don't give a shit about me, they're not gonna give a shit about–do you think you're better than me? More special?”

Your eyes grew round. “Wh–I never said that.”

“But you think they'd listen to you, and not me,” he hissed, something igniting the hollow paths of his nerves and revving him back to life. “You think I'm not–”

You covered his mouth with a quick hand, and he held your wrist with a weak grip. “Shut up. You don't know what I think, so–so just shut up.”

I know what you think. And he was determined to prove you wrong, one way or another, even if he had to rip himself apart to do it--but you saw through him so easily. You always did; you always knew how to push his buttons then reset the system before he blew up.

And when you leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, the one still clasped over his mouth, he did indeed reset. Completely braindead once again, he was.

“Forget I said anything,” you huffed, turning your back to him and settling back in.

And Touya tried to forget, even though his mind buzzed and his heart thudded against his ribs. He tried, and he tried, and he tried.

#past trauma #canon-typical Todoroki family #mentions of child abuse #canon-typical violence #graphic language #difficult relationships #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya x reader #male reader insert #male!reader #bnha x you #bnha x male reader #toya x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #dabi x y/n #phyrestartr

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thegreatyin · 6 hours ago

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veils, the chillest and most smug bat imaginable: so how's your day going :)

caeru, actively losing it: the betrayer the deceiver you embraced him and sold him and the reckoning will be soon upon you and you will rot and burn for what you have done, you will be wick for the candle flame, there will be a reckoning and you will-

veils, somehow even smugger: that's nice :) :)

y'know now that i think about it. the fact caeru (in-universe) lives in a bazaar spire means that at any time he is at risk of bumping into his spouse's coworkers. poor guy. sudden mr fires jumpscare is not a fate i would wish on my worst enemy

#*veils voice* lol. lmao even #fallen london

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thinkblotted · 2 months ago

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Vestal Omega

@lexirosewrites

It's a little early, but hey 1 am is STILL TECHNICALLY SUNDAY LOL

So, okay, this post is going to be a raw jam that happened in discord dms, which is why the formatting is a little choppy, but here is @berd-alert and I's contribution to this Slick Sunday! Hope you enjoy :3

Berd Alert I was thinking Eddie lived in the temple he can still be that bitch but he's in service to the Omegan God (And like, is them but shh

Thinker he's who you have to go through to talk to a few of the omegas there

Berd Alert So its probably a city, not a pack. But Steve's parents could send him to the temples to try and find a mate? Participate in the yearly running?

he doesn't want to but he's got limited options. Its either mate and settle down or be disowned

Thinker He knows he doesn't have the skills to manage on his own, so he will settle for someone from the temple and give them the best life he can in exchange for keeping his family pleased

And maybe just get the answers he wants

It would be hilarious if Eddie was like 'yeah no, you're not leaving just yet' 'why??' 'because you belong here'

Berd Alert Eddie, dragging Steve bodily into the sacred grounds of the temple "HEY MA WE'RE KEEPIN THIS ONE"

Steve gets kidnapped lmao

Thinker The most confused man in the city, eating dinner like '....I just wanted a wife'

Berd Alert congrats Steve, you are become wife

of a god no less :>

its a bit of a vestal virgin scenario, the people of the temple are spiritually and legally mated to the god

omegas to the Omegan Gad, Alphas to the Alphan God

Steve needs to purify himself and then he can properly be welcomed into the order

Thinker For those that come in, it usually means renouncing all past or present mateships, by cutting out the bitten gland

Luckily, Steve has none

His mane is cut, and he is perhaps, ah, bound, down there (diy cockring)

Berd Alert not even diy they just use a leather cord

Steve is pretty deeply embarrassed by that. And also the fact that he's apparently been CHOSEN BY THE GODS to become an Omega

He hears the priestesses talking that this happens once every few years, and that it also happens in reverse at the Alphas temples

An Alpha gives his seed and an Omega gives her womb, and they come back changed.

Thinker Steve knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this. That the moment they explained, he felt lighter. But. The process seems intense, and he's not sure if he can pass through the eye of a god and come back.

What if he's found..wanting?

His parents certainly weren't very impressed by him, what would the god of all mothers think?

Berd Alert actually imagine his dad trying to take him from the temple

Steve isn't allowed to see anyone during the purification process other than the priests assigned to help him, so when he hears a commotion at the temple gates he's pretty worried

Thinker Eddie tells him it's alright, and to stay. Keep calm, keep his focus. Nothing will come in here they don't allow in.

Richard is pretty loud, though

(here is where the real jam starts hehe)

Berd Alert Yelling about how these crazy whores stole his son, that they plan to mutilate him so he can never be a proper alpha. Steve cringes at that, and Eddie's jaw clenches.

"Chrissy, stay with him."

"Wait, where are you-"

"I'm going to teach your father some manners."

Richard sees the omega as he walks to the front of the assembled crowd. Small, slight, with wild black hair that scandalously not hidden by an omega's veil. He wears the red of a priest, a black stone blade on his belt. And when he meets Richards gaze, his dark eyes seem to cut right through him.

"Are you the one making all the noise at our gate?"

Thinker Richard blinks at the unexpected shot of...uncertainty that the dark gaze sends through him. Then, shaking himself, he huffs, baring his teeth. People around him admonish him with hissed voices, but he pays them no mind - if the crazy bitch wanted to act this way, this was the kind of treatment he should expect.

"Where is my son? I sent him here almost a month ago-"

"To find a wife, yes," the priest interrupts. "He's told us all about it. We made good use of the waste it would have turned him into."

Berd Alert "A waste- How dare you insult me like this! My son is a strong, capable man! He needs to come home with a mate to-"

The dark haired priest cuts him off with a vicious little smile. "I think you misunderstand. Your son is very strong, yes, but he is not an alpha. And he will not be returning to your house. He's been chosen, and has agreed to the right of transference. Once it is complete, he will live here, as a priest to the God of all mothers. It is Their will."

Thinker Those around him are quiet as he speaks, listening to his small sermon. Some even nod along. Richard growls, having heard enough of this. He's going to go through those door and drag that pathetic, cowardly whelp back through so he can-

Richard takes a single step towards the priest, and suddenly, the tip of the black knife is pressing into his throat.

The priest is no longer smiling.

"Do you know why my robe is red, Pater Harrington?" He murmurs. Richard doesn't answer. "For the blood of the pups unborn, dead in their mother's womb, and for the blood between the teeth of the mothers who defend them."

Berd Alert Those dark eyes glint like the blade at his throat, which drifts lower, towards his chest.

"It's also the red of the mothers who suffer in silence at the hands of cruel alphas."

Richard swallows. feeling a cold sweat break out across his back.

"The God of All Mothers tells me things, Richard Harrington. I hear Them in my dreams. So, why don't you answer something I've been wondering."

No, no no no it can't be- The little priest comes in close, so his soft lips press against the shell of his ear. "When was it, exactly, that you started to beat your wife?"

Thinker Richard's breathing is staggering. This boy - this man - is so much younger than him, so much smaller than his own broad shoulders and long, alpha teeth, but he looks wild in the way a wolf looks next to a dog.

"You know nothing of these matters! You're a mad man," Richard cries, ripping himself away, back towards the doors leading out of the public portion of the temple.

The priest smiles again. "The mad are forced to see what the sane blind themselves to."

There are people at the door already.

Berd Alert (two world building thoughts, one, the Omega God is usually depicted as a female while the alpha God is usually depicted as a male, but it is understood that their blessings are not distinguished by sex, and there are special holidays honoring their forms as Omega masculinum and Alpha femina. Two, the Rite of Transference is kinda literal? It's a petition to the gods to essentially swap the designation of a man and woman. It has to be a man and woman, though the opposite where the man is omega first and the woman is Alpha first is also possible. They're meant to literally exchange their birth designation for the others, giving theirs as a gift and receiving In kind. Also, This does not matter at all, but the omega Steve is swapping with is Nancy)

Thinker (I enjoy these both. I imagine that Steve and Nancy meet and sort of formally offer their transitions to each other)

Berd Alert Richard tries to push past the people at the door but they push him back. Another alpha growls at him, posturing so he'll back up. He's trapped.

"You know, The God of all Mothers despises those who harm the vulnerable. But the Chasing God hates them more."

The priest is stepping closer, knife brandished. "You are supposed to be a protector, the caretaker of your mate and pups. But it seems you do not deserve that responsibility."

"So? You can't kill me," Richard pants hysterically. "Even a priest isn't allowed to murder."

The boy smiles again, his little sharp teeth glinting in the light. "I'm not going to kill you, Pater Harrington. Although, perhaps you'll wish I had once I am finished."

He looks up to address the crowd. "I need two volunteers. The strongest among you."

Thinker Richard then tries to make a real break for it. He knows this - he's seen this. Spat at them in public as was right.

Ad Aufero. Those who had their scent removed, cast out from the family, alone.

He's not fast enough. Maybe in his youth he might have been, but certainly not now, past his prime and wanting in true physical prowess. Two alphas come forward, a boy with sandy blond hair and one with long, dark hair tied in a braid. They grapple, and Richard is soon scruffed like a pup. At the doors, the crowd of underclergy have moved the public out, apologizing for the scene, but they must leave for the moment.

The doors shut with a boom, and Richard is brought to his knees at the feet of the red clothed priest.

Berd Alert "I would apologize for the scene, but I think you won't care about that soon."

He approaches, knife ready and hungry for blood. Richard thrashes, then cries out.

"Wait-! Wait, you need proof to do that!"

The priest pauses, then his smile returns, as keen edged as his blade. "No I don't. Do you know why?"

The flat of his knife is at Richard's neck, over his mating bite.

"I am field born. The God of all Mothers is my mother, the seed-bearer my father. I am their will made flesh. And they tell me how you hurt those around you. They tell me exactly what you deserve."

The knife bites into his flesh.

Thinker It's an expert hand that moves the blade - almost like it was something moving through the priest. The black stone is as sharp as any steel, but Richard is made to feel every drag.

With a flick, his skin is peeled back, revealing the little bauble embedded between muscle. Blood runs in red rivulets down his shoulder, over the hands holding him and the hand unmaking him. The point of the knife digs under it, and Richard screams.

The priest rises, and holds the bloody piece in his hand, high so all gathered may witness. "A final offering will be given to the God of All Mothers, in penitence for this one's harm."

He then addresses Richard directly. "May Their final blessing be cold understanding given to a mind now free to accept it."

The gathered crowd of clergy murmurs an echoing prayer. The priest steps away, to the pit at the center of the room - it is deep, and at the center, a meter down, glowing coals.

He tosses the flesh into it, where it burns.

Berd Alert It's over with quickly after that, though Eddie is spattered with the man's blood once he's finished. He feels exhausted, but satisfied with his work, as he usually does when the Mothers spirit takes him.

He needs to wash off the blood before he goes back to Steve.

As he steps into the antechamber of the temples sacred ground, he sees a bowl of water. Set out for him, no doubt. He picks up a cloth, and begins to wash his arms and face. The water tints pink in the bowl, like a profane ink.

There are footsteps behind him, familiar in their gait.

"You really shouldn't leave seclusion, Steve."

Thinker The feet behind him shuffle, somewhat guiltily.

"I know. But, everything went quiet, and then I-" Steve pauses, but finds the courage to continue. "I heard him screaming," he whispers.

Eddie sets the soaked cloth down. He really has to change, he mustn't touch Steve like this, coated in the taint that may come off on Steve, but he can't leave him like this. Eddie turns, so he can hold out an arm for Steve to come to.

He does, setting his head on Eddie's shoulder, letting his nose find the spot under his jaw. He cannot purr yet, the deep rumble of an alpha still his only way of showing his gratitude, but Eddie accept it for what it's meant to be.

"He won't trouble you any more."

"...My mother-" Steve starts, but Eddie just nods.

"I'll send someone to look after her for a while."

"Thank you," Steve murmurs into Eddie's shoulder.

END OF JAM, HERE IS SOME CUTE ART BY BERD

Steve's mother Maureen (on the right) and Richard's alpha sister Janet on the left, who in every omegaverse au we write, Maureen ends up divorcing Richard and getting with Janet lmaoooo

Priest Eddie, doing his clerical duties, very Delphi of you, Eddie

There's a bit more to the jam, where we are worldbuilding some of the temple stuff, if you're curious about that. I just though the post was getting a little long lol

#omegaverse #stranger things #steddie #mild gore #illustrations

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lostgracestories · 2 months ago

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Idk you, but I rlly like the idea that Morgott use a human disguise when in public (maybe mimic veil or smth else)

So imagine veiled!Morgott being teased by his tarnished consort and trying to make him purr or flustered because he would be an absolute cutie patootie <3

Also the big tired grandpa vibes-

HOLD. MY. COFFEE. I LOVE YOU I COULD KISS YOU (veiled!Morgott writings are a FAV of mine <33333333) I need to show y'all the sketches I have of veiled!Morgott soon now, lol!

Anyways! I wrote a little minific? Drabble? Idk the terms lol I wrote something and here it is <3

erm, apologies for mistakes I'm like half awake rn lmao wc: 631 tw: self-loathing Morgott (typical but very mild)

Veil or no Veil...

It had been some months since you had sealed your consortship with Morgott. There had been a small and brief wedding. This had been due to your, now husband's, fear of betrothing you in his hideous form. You'd had to beg him just for the small wedding not to use mimic veil. Now, here you both were. Morgott had promised you a grand afternoon in the markets, he had even told you that you had no spending limit. It was a rare planned date from your husband and it caused you to bubble with excitement. Well... this was until you saw the man that offered his hand to you with a slow and regal bow...

He was using mimic veil...

"Beloved- do you truly need to hide your features for a simple outing this afterno-" Morgott cut you off, standing tall and it was clear he was not going to allow protest this time. Perhaps... if it made him more comfortable... you were alright with it.

"I will hear no words of protest fall from thy lips. Come, let us enjoy this day fore we must return" You offered a careful look but took your husband's hand in yours, sighing as your shoulders, and his, relaxed. You hadn't noticed you'd been so tense. Without another moment to think, Morgott led you onward, guiding you toward the market.

You watched as his silvery curls, tied into a messy bun, bobbed and lightly blew around with his movements. He was still tall like this but not nearly as tall as you knew him to truly be. He had muscle in this form as well but it could not compare to the large fur and hair strewn biceps that you so dearly loved... if only he saw himself the way that you did.

As hours passed by and you ventured the market with your husband, you found that you quite missed the subtle swish of his tail behind him when you spoke to him. Now, as you stood in your shared favorite bookstore, you watched as Morgott became engrossed in the wide variety of poetry adorning the back shelves. A sly grin pulled at your lips as a devious thought came to mind and you slowly and quietly approached while his hands held the spine of a particular book, his eyes locked on a page...

The purr you drew from him was jarring and loud. He had not expected your gentle fingers to come trailing up his back as you looked over his arm to see what he read. For a moment he was locked in place, utterly embarrassed at the sound you had drawn out of him, in his veiled guise no less...

"Love of mine-" He hadn't meant to but his voice came out low and raspy and above all else... flustered...

"You make such pretty noises, love... if only you would pair your gorgeous face with them..." You hummed thoughtfully as you twirled a strand of his hair between your finger tips.

Morgott's breath caught in his throat at her bold proclamation, in public no less. He wasn't sure if he should feel mortified or scoop her up and rush home with her. His one eye blinked at her simply in shock as she smiled to him innocently, her hand coming up to brush over the bandage always wrapped over his unseeing eye in this form.

"Thou art truly seeking to kill me... I can not stand such claims..." You felt a sly grin pull at your lips once more as you placed a hand over his veiled form's chest. You lingered for a moment before finally speaking once more. It was off topic, but you could hardly keep the words from escaping. "I would love you, veil or no veil..."

#elden ring #fluff #morgott #elden ring morgott #morgott the grace given #morgott the omen king #morgott x tarnished

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orions-quill · 6 months ago

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Okay so this isn’t a thing. This is not from any of my WIPs, I want to make that perfectly clear. I was listening to Bastille and got possessed by a scene in my mind and had to write it. I don’t know who these characters are or what they want, this basically wrote itself lol

Uhm, cw for funerals? I think?

The funeral was a quiet affair. The only attendants were the five of them and the body of Kevin six feet under. Out of them, the only one who had shed any tears had been his sister, Nora; everyone else simply watched as the coffin was lowered and covered in dirt. They had barely had enough money to bury him, let alone for a reception or a priest to give a speech (though, to be fair, Kevin would have probably hated a priest).

“This is your fault,” Gabriel was the first to brake the silence.

“Gabe.” Ellie’s voice was even, but the name was a veiled warning.

Alex ignored him in favor of staring at the freshly moved dirt. He had just enough time to readjust his arm in the sling before Gabriel was grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and hoisting him closer. It would’ve been more threatening if he hadn’t been leaning almost all his weight on Alex and balancing on one foot. Alex still didn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to to picture the bandages on his head.

“Why can’t you express anything at least once in your life?!” Gabriel yelled, shaking him with force and causing them both to trip. Mark barely caught them on time.

“Gabriel! Stop it!” Ellie intervened again, pulling him away from Alex and recovering his crutches for him.

Gabriel leaned on her, clutching to her shoulders for dead life, but his eyes were trained on Alex who still didn’t dare look at him.

“We can never go back, Alex.” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, his agitation setting his injuries aflame. “Do you understand that? Things will never be the same. We will never be the same again.”

Finally, Alex tore his eyes away from the grave and looked first at Nora and Mark standing to his right, then at Ellie and finally at Gabriel. He adjusted the sling again.

“I know,” Alex said, before turning away and leaving.

—

That’s it? I don’t know what’s going on lmao

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerblr #writerscommunity #writing #writer community #writing community #my writing #my wips #? maybe?

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purplecritter · 18 days ago

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Dragon Age: Vows and Vengeance (Ep. 7)

Official episode transcript here

My notes while I was listening under the cut… Spoilers ahead!

I am always so uncomfortable with these types of “surgery” scenes. Could never be a combat medic

So they plan to pack the wound with a “poultice of mud, moss, and herbs”... DAO Warden drinking health poultices is cringing right now :’)

The dramatic thunders are paid actors

Ngl “Blood of the Black Rot” sounds like Blight. Taint if you will. Plus there’s no cure, and darkspawn blood isn’t like oil but it does look quite viscous idk

Okay merchant Ramiro (adds to the notebook of “characters to look out for in Veilguard)

Aww I like Lillemar

I did not anticipate Emmrich having company other than Manfred so this Rolet is a surprise idk why

Okay Emmrich is OPTIMISTIC we love a man that trusts in nature (Nature will absolutely destroy those horses sorry dude)

Mkayyy so a fortnight = two weeks, to get from Antiva past the whole Free Marcher to (near) Hunter Fell (between Nevarra, Tevinter and Orlais basically). Good to know!

The way Emmrich talks is satisfying? Does that make sense? Pleasant voice!

Oooh I wonder if Manfred is a literal spirit of Curiosity or if that was more of a figure of speech. [Spoilers for Tevinter Nights] In “Down Among the Dead Men” Audric is a spirit of curiosity but I don’t recall any other case where we closely interacted with one of this kind, it’d be neat if Manfred was one even silent as he is!

Earthquake mention 🎉

Emmrich what do you mean “by jove”?! Who is Jove here💀

“I don't mean to sound dire, but best you search your heart for something to believe in” okay foreshadowing I see you

Manfred disliking being given nicknames was not on my bingo card but I like it. Number 1 nemesis of Varric’s as soon as they meet

I don’t know why Rolet was with Emmrich and at this point I’m too late to ask

“Things have gotten strange in the lower crypts ever since the incident in the Silent Plains [...] There was quite an explosion in a cave a few weeks back. Its effects have reverberated throughout the area, compromising bits of the Veil” 👀

why do the lineages always have to be patriarchal

Yeah not there’s no way this “Pascal De La Forsa” guy isn’t a vampire or something. His vibes are rancid, as they say

“Almost sounds like the Fade out there, no?” better hope Nadia can learn the Warden’s way of closing Fade rifts by waving their weapon around because I have a feeling it’s not going to stay “almost” for much longer

“Oh no, personally, no. Just the tales I've heard. I imagine it's similar. I'm really just thinking out loud.” this was Solas every time you asked him about things he shouldn’t have known lmao

OOf the sister is even less subtle about not being human

“Perhaps a little spirit is just what you need” uh huh I see what you did there

“Spirit fire of midnight suns, through my spire of ill and ire, the wretched blood he blessed, not mired” ← Emmric’s incantation to heal Drayden

“Cetus bile” blegh. Anyways Cetus is (drum roll please) a sea dragon! Wonder if they’ll get a spotlight in Veilguard 👀

Demon to Nadia: “Now I see why he wants you” cool cocol cool so either Elio got a reputation since getting possessed or he’s not talking about Elio here?

^ Maeror apparently.

“O-NAY, AH-TAY. O-NAY, AH-TAY. SCAH-TOE, TOW-BRAY” ← chanted by demon to open Fade rift

NAAAH THE RING WAS WITH THE TEMPLAR DEMON!! Nadiaaa get awayyy

Yeah much as I hoped in the first couple episodes that Elio could be saved. I don’t think that’s likely at all anymore lol

#dragon age #dragon age vows and vengeance #da:v&v #vows and vengeance #vows and vengeance: the demon that came knocking #dragon age spoilers #nadia carcosa #drayden kiel #emmrich volkarin #manfred #manfred dragon age #rolet dragon age #pascal de la forsa #spinella de la forsa #elio andante

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a-pigeons-soliloquy · 1 year ago

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oouugghhh hannigram either 7 or 45. maybe even combine the two.

ok so it has been. a while. this one got, uh, more than a little out of control lmao (almost 3500 words holy fuck). but it's finally finished! i'm not sure if it exactly fits the prompts anymore but i tried to combine them both :) i hope you like it! (even if it did just end up as yet another mizumono fic lol oops)

***

"You were supposed to leave," Will hisses, and his voice is a devastated, furious thing.

There is blood soaking into his shoes and the scent of iron hangs heavy in the air, and the worst part is that Will doesn't even know whose blood it is anymore, but the question is lost to the back of his mind. Because in front of him stands a dishevelled man whose shirt is a mess of shiny red stains, a knife dripping in his hand.

A man who isn’t supposed to be there at all.

"I didn't want to leave without seeing you one last time," Hannibal says. The words one last time should be ringing alarm bells in Will's head, but he can’t hear them over the overwhelming chorus of thousands of other alarms, because everything is going wrong. There is blood on the floor and on the walls and Alana and Jack lie dying among shards of glass, and there is a SWAT team likely only minutes away, and yet Hannibal is still here.

They both are.

And now Will doesn’t know what to do, hasn’t known what to do for the last 3 months and hadn’t known what he’d do next when he’d made that phone call, telling the Chesapeake Ripper that they know. All he’d known was that he didn’t want Hannibal to die, didn’t want him locked up in a cage by his own hands. But here he is, faced with the consequences of his own actions, and once again Will doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to feel, or even what he is feeling beyond the adrenaline and desperation and horror and relief and confusion. He doesn’t want to feel the overwhelming guilt and sense of responsibility that has been steadily building behind his ribs since this whole scheme began. Yet that guilt now tears at the lining of his chest and crushes his lungs and holds his throat in a chokehold, and it’s just all too much and all he can think is none of this was supposed to happen and this is all my fault and what if?

Seeing Hannibal alive, he’d been struck by a sudden wave of relief that had almost caused his knees to give out beneath him. But now, as Hannibal’s eyes meet his, the awful look that greets him makes a pit suddenly form in his stomach, and the relief gives way to guilt again. And Will can’t take it.

None of this was supposed to happen.

This is all my fault.

What if?

And then it hits him: none of this was supposed to happen. And it hadn’t needed to. This awful mess of glass and blood and ruin could have all been avoided if Hannibal had just listened. If he’d trusted Will when he’d picked up the phone with shaky fingers and told him to run. But he hadn't. And this realisation comes with a sick sense of understanding, because for the whole time Will had known him, Hannibal had always had to have something hidden up his sleeve, always had to keep secrets from Will. Always had to know better. Feel superior. At last the final veil falls from Will's eyes, and all at once he can see how foolish he'd been to ever believe that they could be equals. How pathetic it was that, for those few long weeks they'd spent together, he'd actually believed that they were.

(Will fiercely forces back the voice in his head that whispers that he hadn’t exactly given Hannibal a reason to trust him.)

Heart hammering against his ribs, all of that guilt and fear melts together and stretches and twists and is reborn as deep, righteous anger.

Because no, all he’d wanted was for Hannibal to be safe and free and far from here, even if it meant Hannibal hated him, even if it meant they could never be together, even if it meant that one day Hannibal would come back and rip his still-beating heart from his chest without remorse. But instead here they are, highly armed police likely mere minutes out. And all because Hannibal hadn’t listened. Bitterly, Will thinks to himself that maybe he couldn’t change Hannibal in this way after all.

As if hearing the war cry of bitterness and anger, the resentment he’d kept locked away over the last year begins to bay and claw at its cage too, and, with no reason left to hold it back, Will finally opens the latch and lets it loose.

His next words come out as a growl. “Well now neither of us might get to leave at all”.

Hannibal looks at him, and before he can hide any emotion behind his mask Will can see surprise and deep betrayal warring behind his eyes. It should make him stop and consider, that surprise - that indication that he is behaving in a way that Hannibal did not quite anticipate. But the look of betrayal is like a knife to his chest, and so Will grips his resentment tightly and fumes.

What had Hannibal expected? For Will to be small, desperate? Cowering? Begging for forgiveness? His lip curls in derision. As if he would give him the satisfaction. No, mongooses have teeth and claws, and may whatever god he believes in help Hannibal if he thinks Will won’t use them.

Hannibal manages to force the emotion all behind a mask of icy indifference, and now when he looks at Will his gaze is blank. Though it is not his usual blankness which Will has become familiar with. It is an empty, unsettling kind of blank, the sort of blank he’s only ever seen in the eye of a shark. When Hannibal speaks his voice is cold, colder than Will has ever heard it.

"Forgive me for having doubts about the sincerity of your warning when you've been lying to me for the last month. Forgive me for wanting to see the truth of where your loyalties lie."

The acknowledgement is agony. All the guilt Will had been trying to force down suddenly rears its monstrous head again, and he finds his voice suddenly drying up. His throat feels tight.

He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you'

Hannibal only scoffs. It is ugly. Will has never seen Hannibal ugly before.

"A last minute change of heart is hardly loyalty, Will," he says. “What does Uncle Jack think of your loyalty, lying bleeding out in my pantry? Alana, shattered on the street? How can I be sure you do not still intend for me to join them?”

Hannibal takes a step towards him, adjusting his grip on the knife. Will’s heart pounds. He forces himself not to take a step back.

“Because I chose you, Hannibal, I was always going to choose you, I just needed time to accept that.”

But Hannibal just looks away. “If that is what you truly believe, then you haven't just been lying to me, you've also been lying to yourself.”

It’s so wrong, yet Hannibal had said it with such certainty and disdain that all Will sees is the arrogance with which Hannibal always assumes himself to be right. He dares to presume to know what Will is thinking better than Will knows himself? It turns out Hannibal Lecter really is just like every other psychiatrist Will has ever met, and a sense of grief rises up within him at the loss of something he’d never thought he could have until meeting Hannibal.

He hates himself for mourning what he shouldn’t want.

Will smothers the voice in his head whispering that Hannibal may in fact be correct, that he really does know Will's mind better than Will does his own. Instead he lets anger take over again, and this time it burns.

“You know nothing,” he hisses. His hands shake. Deep waves of indignant resentment roll over him, the roaring of the waves matching the blood in his ears.

He doesn’t know what he expects Hannibal to do next, but it isn’t for Hannibal to hum to himself, then huff a mirthless laugh and concede in a tone both melancholy and angry, “Perhaps you’re right.”

Once again Hannibal meets his eyes. “You know, I've never fully been able to predict you, Will, but this time I had hoped. It is a mistake I will not make again.”

He prowls closer still, and this time Will steps forward to meet him. Fight has won over flight and as the rising fury makes it hard to find words Will’s body seems to have decided to speak for him. The ticking clock of the impending arrival of the FBI ignored in favour of the burning, all-consuming rage within him.

But the fear of their time running out is still there, forced down as it is, and between that and the anger it’s only getting harder to think, and Hannibal is only making it worse. Every word that leaves his mouth brings fresh waves of intense emotion and it’s rapidly reducing Will to a state where there is nothing in his brain except pure animalistic rage-fear.

He just needs Hannibal to stop talking for one moment so he can think.

With what little coherent thought remains in his brain, Will decides to tell Hannibal in the only way he can manage anymore.

“For once in your life can you please just shut the fuck up”.

Hannibal's eyes flash dangerously. His lips curl up into a snarl, and the part of Will that still understands anything knows that he’s made a mistake - he’s only succeeded in confirming for Hannibal exactly how his words are affecting him, and getting him to stop now won’t be achieved without consequences.

Hannibal is quick to recover, a cruel grin taking over his face. His head tilts condescendingly. “Terribly rude, Will,’ he taunts.

The fire inside Will soars higher. He can feel it scorching his insides.

“Fuck you, Hannibal.” He spits.

Hannibal begins to loom over him, moving closer still in a manner that can only be called predatory, until all that separates them is an arm’s length. The knife still glistens in his hand.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Will? Childish comebacks? I’ve come to expect better from you. I'm disappointed.” There is a gleam of self-satisfied malice in his eyes and the shape of his lips. He looks dangerous. He looks beautiful.

Will hates him.

Will loves him.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuck-

And suddenly Will can’t take it any longer.

Before he knows what he is doing, he’s grabbing Hannibal by the bloody shirt and crashing his lips into his.

Time seems to stop, the world narrowing into a millisecond of time in which Hannibal’s hair brushes against Will’s forehead, breath warm against his mouth, their noses pressed almost painfully against each other. A moment where the cooling blood on Hannibal’s shirt soaks into Will’s palms and stains his fingers red. A moment where Hannibal stands deadly still, as if frozen, and Will feels as if he’s been frozen too.

There is a distant pressure in the corner of Will’s abdomen, then the vague sound of something clattering to the ground. But Will’s lips are on Hannibal’s and it is as if everything everywhere is inconsequential other than the feeling of Hannibal’s teeth against his, just as he’d imagined on so many a lonely night.

The moment seems to last an eternity before Hannibal’s hand finally comes up to grasp the back of his shirt tightly, and Will feels the sharp pull of the fabric against his skin, the pressure of Hannibal’s knuckles firm against his flank. A breathy gasp escapes his burning lips, and he can’t help the animal noise that subsequently tears its way from his throat. Luckily it seems that is what it takes for Hannibal to finally move his mouth and kiss back with equal force, teeth scraping sharply against Will’s. They gravitate closer and closer until Will’s arm is wrapped around Hannibal’s neck and their hips are pressed tightly together.

Eventually, Hannibal lets out a deep growl before he at last pulls away, dragging Will backwards until there is an arm’s distance between them. Will’s eyes flutter open and he gazes up at Hannibal. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins and setting him alight, but this time it is not with anger but something wholly new.

As they lock eyes, Will realises that Hannibal is finally allowing Will to see, without barriers or veils, the full breadth of emotion in his eyes. There is still frustration and betrayal, yes (indeed, Will hadn’t let go of his either) but there is also - and Will’s heart skips a beat when he recognises it - pure and all-encompassing adoration. A wonderful warmth blossoms within his core, rendering him both weak and solid and light as a feather, and it is unlike anything Will can ever remember feeling.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

Then those wonderful, expressive maroon eyes flicker downwards, and Hannibal’s brow furrows, lines around his eyes deepening. Confused, Will follows his gaze, and is surprised to see a growing deep red stain on his shirt, though any reaction he distantly thinks he perhaps should be having is dulled and seems to float just out of reach. It’s strange; there isn’t any pain, just the memory of an odd pressure that he’d ignored at the time and a peculiar sense of unreality.

For a moment he just stands, uncomprehending, but as the adrenaline finally starts to wear off he becomes increasingly aware of a dull ache at the site of the wound, and it isn’t long before that dull ache blossoms into a terrible burning pain. Hand instinctively falling from Hannibal’s shoulder to hover protectively over the wound, Will looks back up at Hannibal, a mix of confusion, surprise, pain and betrayal written across his face. An involuntary whine slips from his suddenly dry throat.

The vocalisation appears to spur Hannibal into action. He takes Will gently but firmly by the arms and quickly guides him to a nearby sofa, helping him lay down across its seats before sinking to his knees beside him and pulling up his shirt to inspect the injury. A moment passes, then a near-imperceptible line of tension seems to drop slightly from Hannibal’s shoulders and he pulls Will’s shirt back down.

“It is as I thought: due to the angle and the quick loosening of my grip on the handle, only the tip of my knife entered your body. The wound is not so deep as to require immediate attention, but it will certainly require stitches.”

He guides Will’s hand back to his injury and helps him to apply the right amount of pressure. It hurts, and when Will winces and lets out small pained noise, Hannibal brings a hand to his hair and cards it through the damp curls. It feels nice, it feels so very nice and right, and Will’s eyes slip closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling. When he opens them, Hannibal is looking down at him, face once again carefully blank.

“There is likely very little time left before the FBI arrives,” he begins, “and I will soon be leaving for Florence. I will offer you this once and only once, and you will have until I return with our passports and a select few other items to make your decision.”

He fixes Will with a heavy look. “One last chance, Will. You can come with me to Florence, and I will show you the city where I became a man. We will leave immediately, take up new identities, and likely never return.

“Or, I can leave you here. You can wait for the cops to arrive and take you to a hospital. Your reputation will remain intact, and you can go back to your job and your house in the woods, your life as you know it, and you will never see me again.”

An almost undetectable pause, and then, “This is your final decision, Will. I suggest you make it wisely.”

With this he climbs to his feet and leaves the room

For a while Will sits thinking, but deep down he knows his mind is already made up. The myriad of complicated feelings he harbours towards Hannibal still plague him, and a part of him still wants to lock the man up and throw away the key, but he’s finally willing to admit that it’s all inconsequential. He knows now he can't live without Hannibal, for better or for worse, whether he loves him or hates him, or a twisted mix of both. He’ll miss his life terribly for the isolated comfort it brought, but he’d miss Hannibal far, far more.

There is only one choice to make.

The moment Hannibal reappears in the doorway Will is speaking.

“I want to come with you.”

Hannibal’s face remains carefully blank. “You understand there is no going back from this. I will not change my lifestyle and you can never return to the false life you have led. You will be shedding your sheepskin for good this time, and the world will be on our tail for as long as we-”

Will cuts him off.

“I want to come with you,” he repeats firmly.

A long pause, and then a small but genuine smile graces Hannibal's lips. With a dip of his head, he seems to accept the decision. “Very well,” he says, though Will can hear the unspoken relief that lies beneath it. He lets himself smile back, tired but overjoyed and honest. It feels right.

Hannibal comes back to where he lies on the couch, and helps him get up, his touch firm yet gentle as he holds Will against his side.

“Do you think you can walk?” he asks.

Will’s breath catches as the shift to being upright pulls sharply on his wound. While it could have been far deeper - and Will doesn’t want to imagine what Hannibal’s initial plan for him was - it is still painful, and increasingly so as the last of the adrenaline wears off. Plus, he’s losing a fair amount of blood, and the change in angle temporarily darkens his vision and sends stars dancing across his eyes. Grimacing, he closes his eyes and waits for the pounding in his head to stop. Hannibal lets him lean against him, steadfastly taking his weight, and says nothing.

When the stars fade and he feels steadier on his feet, Will considers Hannibal’s question, and after a moment of assessment nods - he’s been shot in the shoulder before, he can handle this - and lets Hannibal lead him out of the house and down the street to an unfamiliar car.

Alana is unconscious now, and Will catches Hannibal’s eyes lingering on his jacket where it lies over her body. He looks at her, the person he’d once imagined sharing a life with, and thinks of how important she had always been to him, even after everything. A pang of bittersweet nostalgia hits him, accompanied by a longing for a simpler time when maybe it could have been possible. But ultimately he allows Hannibal to help him into the passenger seat of the car. This is the life he’s chosen, the person he’s chosen, cannibalism and all. There is no going back now, and nothing to be gained from contemplating what ifs.

Then the car door closes, and Alana is hidden from sight.

There is another noise as Hannibal gets in the car from the other side, and after fiddling with some dials and buttons, he starts the engine.

“I will drive us to the airport where our flight awaits. When we are a safe distance from the house we will stop and I will clean and suture your wound. But for now I suggest you sleep - you will need the rest if you are to recover well.”

He must notice the lines of discomfort on Will’s face, as he adds, softening slightly, “There are some painkillers in the door.”

After taking the pills as directed, Will lays his head back against the headrest and allows his eyes to close. The last of the adrenaline has left his system, leaving behind a sudden bone tiredness that makes his lids heavy and breathing slow.

With the sound of the vehicle lulling him and the comfort of Hannibal’s presence beside him - alive, together - sleep comes quickly, and the last thing Will knows before the darkness claims him is the feeling of a warm hand gently coming to rest upon his own.

#nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannigram fic #hannibal fanfiction #my writing #kiss prompts #gonna say abigail is in the backseat of the car but it's dark and will is too tired to notice lol #and they find a way to have all 7 dogs sent to wherever they end up :)#i hope this is decent enough and there aren't any mistakes!#pretty sure everything is capitalised and in the same tense now haha #god this has taken forever #also #this is the first fic i've managed to finish in like 7 years so i'm really proud :)#now to work on my many other wips!#also i hope the formatting is ok!#let me know if it's horrible lol and i'll try to fix it

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soffpisces · 1 year ago

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enhypen as emo bands!!

heeseung- taking back sunday

i'm not super sure if the vibes are there, but just based off of the music he's recommended, it's obvious he doesn't listen to heavy/upbeat music. i can also see him enjoying angsty music every once in a while. sometimes he gives me "angsty teen recovering from a breakup with their first love" yk? "your lipstick, his collar, don't bother angel. i know exactly what goes on."

jay- the red jumpsuit apparatus

he strikes me as a lowkey romantic person. so when he's in the mood, i can definitely see him listening to them whilst looking dramatically out a window lmao! fuckk honestly this is just based on his vibes, i have no more input lol. "i'll be there for you through it all. even if saving you sends me to heaven." i'm crying it's so corny but so good, just like jay<3.

jake- we the kings

okay so... this is purely based on their song "check yes juilet" ; like don't they just give off the same vibes?? we the kings is also an emo staple but they're not known for being actually emo, yk. so, they go well because when i think of jake, i don't necessarily think of sad music. jake gives me "sneaking in your window at night" and just 2000s-teenage-romance-vibes in general. "they'll tear us apart if you give them the chance. don't sell your heart. don't say we're not meant to be. run baby, run, forever will be you and me".

sunghoon- black veil brides

okay, hear me out... i wouldn't have chosen bvb for sunghoon if not for "in the end". sunghoon strikes me as someone who really enjoys the classics. he's always choosing the old but good songs for karaoke, so i have a feeling he could bop to this. i feel like he would have some emo/metal classics in his workout playlist... "as you fade into the night, who will tell the story of your life?"

sunoo- paramore

it was lowkey difficult to think of a band for him, but alas, haley williams appears in my brain. honestly, if he's feeling a little angsty, he could totally enjoy their music. his voice would be so delicious covering their song "all i wanted". "it's not a walk in the park to love each other. but when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny you're worth it."

jungown- fall out boy

the other day, i saw that jungwon recommended a green day song?? like hello?? so random. i considered the two but ended up going with fob simply because green day gives millennial-dad vibes. (don't get me wrong i love green day, but the energy is not there). my inspiration for this match is pretty similar to jake's. jungwon is just so teenage romance coded, so i think the two pair well with each other<3. "i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song."

ni-ki- escape the fate

okay, i was between putting etf or falling in reverse, but i figured most of falling in reverse's music is a little too goofy for ni-ki's vibe lol! and when i say etf, i mean ronnie's era specifically. imagining riki listening to them is making me want to cry; like the idea of the two of them is magical. but yea, this is honestly based purely on the vibes! i know niki has the heart of an emo;3. "how does it feel when your tears freeze when you cry? the blood in your veins is 20 below."

as you can probably tell, this is completely self-indulgent <3. i am desperately trying to make two worlds collide... i don't know if it's working or not, lol! tell me what you think!! emo engenes represent!!!

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enha imagines #jungwon #sunghoon #park sunghoon #park jongseong #heeseung #emo revival #2000s emo

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scp230kinnie · 2 years ago

Note

do you mind if i ask for some general hcs for your characterization of draven kondraki

maybe even some boyfriend hcs perchance... :]

ABSOLUTELY YES HELLO

IVE LIKE NEVER ACTUALLY SEEN ANYONE TALK ABOUT HIM BUT YES

Also once again for all the asks and submissions I am getting to all of them don’t worry 😻

Now I introduce to you

Draven Kondraki Headcanons

(General and relationship)

Characters: Draven Kondraki, mentions of foundation personnel

Warnings: cringe, gender neutral, blood & death & SCPs

ART NOT MINE !! ALL CREDITS TO ORIGINAL OWNER

General Headcanons

Being the son of one of the best, he is therefore very respected over at the foundation

He looks like he listend to slipknot tbh

His favorite band is Pierce the veil but he’s never gone to a concert, his dad won’t let him

Same

I’m gonna hc that he’s around 16-19 lol

He def smokes and he gets it from his father

AN AMAZING COOK AND BAKER FR

Looks like he would dye like bits of his hair bright colours

He tries to act chill and nonchalant but he’s not

If someone were to let him talk about something, he would for hours

He tries to convince clef to get Spotify premium because it’s the “best thing he’s ever done”

Nope

He drinks BLACK COFFEE

no sugar or creamer or anything

Also gets it from his dad

He drinks Mountain Dew for sure

He probably smells like a mix of cigarette smoke mixed with the smell of the morning after it rains

He paints his nails

Bro probably claims to be famous on tiktok but he probably has a private account with 31 followers

He’s got good style

He is also really good at interior design and knows where things should go

He KNOWS his way around the foundation

You will never get lost there with him he’s like a living map

He loves his dad no matter what like even if they fight and stuff he’s not generally one of those rebellious kids

Also not an angel child but still

My guy does not know how to dance

Relationship Headcanons

Let’s pretend he’s not dating Talloran okay

Okay

He’s canonically bi so HE WOULD LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT GENDER YOU ARE

Wear his clothes and he folds IMMEDIATELY

Loves that fr

Fav place to kiss is ur lips and forehead 💍

He likes to hold ur hands even tho his are always cold

Not the biggest fan of PDA but still probably will if you want

So much cuddles in private tho 🫶

He doesn’t like getting into fights with you but he would probably be really petty if you guys were in one

Sleeping on the couch and stuff 😭

Talks his dads ear off about you

Paint his nails and he’ll paint yours duh

If you also smoke he would be hypocritical and tell you to stop over him

If you were to write him letters, he would save every single one no joke

His love language is words of affirmation

He just loves to hear you say he’s doing a good job

He is almost never jealous but when he is he’s also really petty

He’ll go up to you while ur talking with another person and kiss you in front of them and hold ur waist n stuff

Then he’d like complain

He’ll forget about it dw

If you ever get hurt he will PANIC

Like examines your injuries makes sure nothings broken or cut too deep and helps fix you up

If someone he’s close to recently passed away I feel like he would get kinda distant for a bit

Just help him thru it 💪

He straight up MAKES YOU like his TikTok’s

LMFAO

His doesn’t really have any couple nicknames for you, just some variation of your name will do

His singing voice is so sweet. He doesn’t like to sing, but if you’re having a nightmare or something he will sing you back to sleep so gently I can’t even

He’s not usually around a lot so he likes to call you and just hear your voice

He also loves to see you smile

He memorized all of your orders in different restaurants and coffee shops so he can get you things

His dad knows ur dating and likes to tease him lol

Shows you his baby pictures LMAO

His dad does care about you tho, cuz he knows if anything happened to you, Draven would be devastated

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

Sorry this was kinda rushed it’s 3 in the morning

Idk why I always choose to write late at night

I also don’t know too much about this character I read a bit of the stories and got a general idea, but otherwise this is what I came up with

Hope you enjoyed

Everyone leave more requests pls

#fluff #headcanons #scp #scp foundation #hcs #draven #kondraki #draven kondraki #draven Kondraki fluff #draven Kondraki x Reader #draven Kondraki Headcanons #SCP x reader #tumblr #scp230kinnie

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orionsangel86 · 5 months ago

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Say you are the casting director for the spn revival, and you are tasked with recasting the character of Sam; who do you cast to play Sam?

Or say you are the casting director for og spn in '05, who do you hire to play Sam?

Not that I'm complaining nonny, but I'm curious what triggered asking me this? Bearing in mind I don't really go here anymore unless there is a category 5 SPN event happening and it hasnt been trending since I last checked?

Voicing my Sam opinions online even here in 2024 feels like diving into shark infested waters whilst on day 3 of my period lol. But sure why not I love being insane and making myself shark food.

OG '05 Sam is easy. I'd cast someone like Eliza Dushku - Faith from BtVS. I think she would have nailed being the bitchy younger sister with special gifts who played at being a good girl but was actually an "abomination".

Why yes I do think Sam should have been a woman the entire time. Why? Because SPN was a misogynistic sausage fest and it desperately needed more women in lead roles. However everything else should have stayed exactly the same - yes that means Sam would have totally been a lesbian too - just imagine how hot her scenes with Ruby would have been...

(This also tickles me because canonically Sam is the straightest character in SPN and making her a Lesbian just means the entire show is nothing but queer people as SPN should be.)

If SPN was being rebooted for the modern era with all new cast of youngsters I have no idea who I'd pick to play Sam. But I stand by my belief that Sam should be a woman. If SPN could be rebooted to retell a streamlined version of the story from when Sam and Dean were in their twenties again I'd def have an actress play Sam for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because I think the Sam and Dean dynamic with Sam as Dean's little sister would be absolutely fascinating. I also think the story would be given added depth if Sam and Dean were POC as well. Cas however should be exactly the same blue eyed brown haired whiter than white tax accountant looking weirdo. So basically Alex Calvert should play him lmao.

However if your ask is a thinly veiled attempt to discuss a possible Jackles and Mollins post S15 reboot without Jared well then you are in luck as it would be easy. Just hire a really tall brunette dude to play Blurry Sam. His story is over remember and Jared was oh so proud of how it ended for him. Why disturb it? Just carry on The Winchesters storyline where Dean figures out Chuck won and has to gather up his team of dead friends and allies, escape fake Heaven and go save Cas from the empty to really defeat Chuck. Sam just needs to be living his happy apple pie life in the background with his blurry wife whilst Dean protects him from afar. It would be oh so emotional!

I'm only partly joking lmao.

In all seriousness if they do reboot it for a s16 or a movie or whatevs, Jared is coming back. So lets all get used to that idea as best we can. Back to wooden acting and excessive throat clearing for however long the reboot lasts... joy. Its okay though. I'll learn to put up with that if I get a Destiel kiss out of it.

A girl can dream!

#spn #spn reboot #my controversial spn opinions #asks

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toneriisbae · 2 years ago

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Top 3 Otsutsukis

1. Toneri

10/10 I love him. He’s so pretty. Also him turning his life around to protect humans even tho his childhood dream was to be friends with them on Earth. He protected them from afar . . .

Also I noticed he is described very generously:

“Floating soundlessly above it, a man, resplendent with white hair and raiment, spoke in hushed tones to nobody in particular.“ (x)

2. Urashiki

Also 10/10 this is my man. His playful personality contrasts nicely with Momo. Although, I don’t like his dub voice. It’s not bad, it just doesn’t fit him.

I love his stupid fishing pole

3. Momoshiki

9/10 I really like him he’s prettyyy and he looks like a bunny. I like his veil thingy lol.

I can’t explain it but anime Momo feels like a pouty teenager and manga Momo feels more like a cool and serious villain.

@randomcrap13 I found what ur talking abt. Screenshots from Solo Sniper on Quora:

Apparently, he’s not just pretty, he’s GORGEOUS. You can kind of tell by his design that he was meant to be elegant and beautiful but damn. I feel like the anime makes him look pretty and cute, but I feel like they overdid his eyeliner lololol. The manga just looks more beautiful and stunning, the anime had to tone him down lmao.

Also I can’t be the only one who thinks there is a connection between the Otsutsuki and beauty. All the powerful clans that have more Otsutsuki blood are pretty good looking. Hinata, Neji, Kushina, Hashirama, Tobirama, most of the Uchiha. The Otsutsuki themselves are really pretty, especially Momo, Urashiki, and Toneri.

#boruto #toneri otsutsuki #urashiki otsutsuki #momoshiki otsutsuki

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 2 years ago

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Pygmalion (III)

Pairings: Rook/(Pygmalion) MC// Idia/MC (Platonic)

Summary: You were frequently told that your career as a renowned sculptor did not match your dull and less than colorful personality. With your cybernetic hands, you carve the lives and deaths of those long gone‒ producing pieces which have been held in both technical and emotional high regard, dubbing you with the title “Pygm.AI.lion” despite your human heart and brain. When you accidentally still the usually flamboyant archer into silence after he comes across you working in your atelier‒ you find that you’ve become a victim to one of his ceaseless stalkings. Though, you’ve been prey long enough to know how hunt the huntsman himself.

Notes: Sorry this took as long as it did lmao I was sleep deprived then I was in 2 separate 18 hour (what were supposed to be) naps lol. Ah the human body and its wonders.

Was revisiting Paradise Lost recently and I was like wait did I accidentally create Jesus and or Lucifer imagery????? Omg. I also posted a Lilia/Reader oneshot based on the myth of Dullahan (Beloved Thy Name) ao3 link is here / tumblr link.

A lot of philosophy stuff again because I am unfortunately an INTJ with a type 5w4 enneagram AND a Sagittarius (Rook, Idia, and I have the same sign lmao) so triple whammy I love intellectualizing everything. Another very very sweet ol slow burn but I swear romance is in the air

Enjoy! Comments, reblogs, and likes cherished as always (о´∀`о)

CW: Nothing much

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Here) // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

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Rook felt a bit feverish after that critique‒ his eyes swimming as they traced the image of your sculpture inside his mind, melting slowly into the painting of clarity he had been scrutinizing more of lately. Slowly, he gathered his camera and his picture‒ searching for the points you had brought up in your critique, before staggering to his locker in the art classroom, mindlessly sauntering into the hallways for his lunch period.

"You feel it, as it feels you." He couldn't help but to echo those words in your chest, with the clarity in your voice. That was what he had searched for more than anything‒ lucidity, precision, truth above all. And you had embodied its beauty in your sharp expression that gazed far beyond that clock, time, far far beyond anything‒ piercing those eyes through his picture, through his eyes with that arctic solidity. He felt so raw in your presence, even with the layers of fabricated kindness and dramatized passion that veiled his soul‒ protected it‒ you had managed to cut him open, seeing straight through his frantic, aimless fervor in an instant. It made him restless, he knew something inside him was urging with every fiber of its being, to chase and hunt it down‒ but that would mean bursting through, shattering the picture of clarity, of truth inside his mind that he loved dearly. No, it was something different than love, something greedy, the putrid scent of humanity.

He was so lost in thought, turning that clear picture in his mind over and over‒ seeing the blemishes that kept appearing with each interaction he encountered with you‒ that he smashed right into something solid.

"-You! Watch your‒ oh. Rook."

He tiredly gazed from the brim of his hat to see Vil’s face, twisted in slight concern. His lips quickly fashioned into a smile.

“Ah, roi de poison, apologies‒ I was lost in thought.” Vil continued to stare with narrowed eyes as Rook set down his lunch on the table, settling into his usual seat across from him.

"Did something happen today? This is…unlike you. It’s a bit unsettling." The dorm leader stabbed the colorful salad in front of him, bringing it to his lips. “If you need to retire early and skip the club meeting today, just tell me.”

“Non, non. Nothing to worry about kindest Vil. I was simply pondering how well the rehearsal was going to go today‒ are you not curious to how our cast will do on its first run through? I’ve been quivering with excitement to see the freshmen flourish!” With an excitable inflection cast onto his voice, Rook knew Vil would drop the question, sighing with feigned weariness, before engaging in friendly fire.

“There’s nothing to be excited about. It’s just some first year potatoes we have to whip into shape. Honestly, I’m getting tired thinking about it.” Vil said with that sigh Rook anticipated. The corner of his lips curled further, happy for moments of simplicity like this in the spiral of uncertainty you were pushing him into.

“That is what you have me for, roi de poison. And it’ll be fun to see the potential of these first years‒ I trust your instinct with these things.”

“Hm. It’s difficult to actualize the image I have in my head for them. These freshmen are too weak willed‒ but I’ll have to manage with what we’ve got.”

Rook hummed happily, glad that he could retreat into Le chasseur d’amour for just a while, carefully constructing his elation, and the smile on his face. Control, clarity‒ then truth came to him once more, shrouding him in an air of suffocating security.

—————————————————

You felt your joints whirring a bit from how swiftly you had been walking from the art studio to the cafeteria. These old knees, you thought, choosing a box of pomegranate juice from the vending machine, they’re not what they used to be.

“(Name)! Over here!”

Spotting a flaming blue head, raising his hand to beckon you over‒ you drifted towards the table consisting of mostly Heartslabyul students.

“Hello Ortho.” You scuffed the fire on his head, drinking the tart juice from the box in your hands. “Looks good, did Idia install a digestion program in you?” You towered over his lunch tray, glancing at the steaming vegetables and tender meat. You did miss eating once in a while, but you found it to be rather a chore than anything else, disturbing your work flow whenever your stomach growled during the period of your life when you still had a human digestion system. Besides, Dr.Krios had deemed it unnecessary, instead pouring his efforts into your Orpheus protocol and transferring your soul without the demerits of your magic.

“Yeah! Human food is as good as I remember. I can have big brother install one for you if you’d like?”

You shrugged. “No need, like I said, I’m getting too old for big repairs or updates like that.” The creaking in your knees still remained. “Are these your friends, little flame?”

The two young Heartslabyul students stared at the two of you in curiosity, listening in on your conversation. “Oh, (Name), this is Ace and Deuce. They’re the same first years as me‒ and Ace, Deuce, this is (Name), a transfer at our very own Ignihyde dorm!”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Ace Trappola, the smarter and more handsome of us two.” The redhead reached his hand towards you with a crooked grin, while the first year next to him sent a questionable glare. You shook it, the metal inside your skin rattling a bit when you did. “Whoa! Are you a robot or something like Ortho?? You were talking about updates n’ stuff and your arm is so heavy!”

You released the grip on your arm, feeling the weight of your own arm‒ was it that heavy from your human one? The increased strength allowed by the automation made it difficult to tell. “I am not a robot. A cyborg.”

“Ace‒ stop being so rude! Sorry about him, I’m Deuce, it’s nice to meet you.” You took the hand of the other student with blue-black hair, quietly seeing if you could feel the heaviness of your hand in his shake. He had a surprisingly strong grip and steady arm however, so it proved useless.

“Nice to meet you two. Thank you for taking care of Ortho.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship between the two of you? You seem like you knew each other before you even transferred‒ are you another Shroud sibling?” Ace asked with a fist under his chin in contemplation.

“Ah no‒“

“What’s this? Do I hear something about another Shroud sibling?” Another, taller redhead popped his head into your view, which you stared down in silence. “Wait‒ no way! Aren’t you Pygm.AI.lion? I follow you on Magicam!”

Ace snapped his fingers, pointing it at your face. “Ahh! I remember thanks to Carter now! I thought I’ve seen you somewhere!”

“…Magicam?” Must be another piece of modern technology you weren’t caught up with. So much was happening these days, you wanted to live your life simply without having to be caught up with every little thing on this planet.

“Huh? Yeah‒ see?” He shoved his phone in your face, scrolling through a page with the account name “Pygm.AI.lion”. You definitely don’t recognize this page, nor do you remember making a ‘“Magicam” account‒ so you suspected this was the doing of Jupiter Enterprises, another money hungry attempt, using you to gather the funds to pay for the research on your own body, to further blot research conducted by the desperate scientists at S.T.Y.X. You hoped Idia would take over too put an end to the ceaseless testing. “You should totally follow me back and be friends! Since we’re in the same grade and all~”

“Ah, I don’t actually own this account. Probably my manager or someone else at Jupiter Enterprises. But those are my works, and that is indeed me‒ I’m just not too acquainted with social media.” There were various pictures of you next to your sculptures, wearing the same dulled expression you always adorned during tiring galas and gallery events. Had you known they were taking pictures, you definitely would have deepened your frown just to spite them. But you figured with the tech they had been rapidly producing over the years, it wouldn’t be hard to implant a camera in corners you couldn’t see‒ just as small and precise as the ones implanted in your eyes.

“Oh that’s too bad. But we can still be friends, can’t we? I’m Carter Diamond, third year and official sweetheart of the Heartslabyul dorm!” Though he sung that sentence with a carefree lightness in his voice, you could feel his eyes shifting at your stony expression, searching for your response. Mood maker was right, you observed‒ the movement in his eyes reminded you of Rook a bit‒ except it seemed like he was using that wit to read the room rather than letting the hunger in his eyes consume him. You shook the thought of that feathered stalker from your mind, taking the hand Carter reached out to you.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m (Name), I just transferred.”

“Oh? Where did you transfer from RSA? I have a few friends there‒ maybe they know you?”

“Not from another school‒ a black carriage arrived at the S.T.Y.X lab one day, and I found myself here like the rest of the students. So I guess less of a transfer, but I’m not sure what else to call it.”

“Whoa S.T.Y.X? Aren’t they super secretive or something? Wait‒ S.T.Y.X is the one that made you then?”

“They did make my cybernetic enhancements. But I still have my human heart and brain, so depending on how you see it I suppose you could or couldn’t say they made me.”

“Wow I’m really getting the inside scoop here!” He laughed “They totally framed you as a robot‒ even in your Magicam profile! Oh‒“ He glanced at his phone. “I godda get going early to make up a test‒ I’m already on thin ice with Trein‒ nice to meet you Pygm.AI.lion!” Waving his hand, he dashed towards the double doors of the cafeteria.

You turned back to Ortho, taking the last sips of your Pomegranate juice. “That reminds me, Ortho. Are there any Art Clubs or Robotics Clubs here? Headmage said I had to join something by the end of the week.”

“Hm…I’m not finding either of those in the school’s database…But the science club is the “anything” club‒ you can join that! Or…” He tapped his chin. “Oh! You can come with me to the film studies club today! We’re actually in need of set designers and Vil would be grateful for a S-class sculptor like you, (Name)! And you can watch me perform today‒ it’s our first rehearsal!”

“Hm, that seems entertaining. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen a play in person. I look forward to your performance, Ortho.”

Ace and Deuce exchanged surprised looks, before the redhead spoke. “Uh..D-did we hear you correctly? Centuries..? How old are you exactly?”

Ah, right. The whole time thing. That thought left a distaste in your mouth, reminded of the clocks that had descended its image upon you today. All those around you were experiencing life at a different pace, all at different points in their path towards a blissful rest you would never know. The arms on your clock moved languidly, much too large to function “the correct way” that clocks ought to‒ in accordance to the beat of the human heart. Your body felt like that weary clock‒ much too tall, much too heavy for the way your heart would reach out to the pulse of other humans, and sink into the brilliant, cindering explosion that was a human’s lifespan. That blazing light you held at multiple points in your life was all too bright, too much, blistering against your brittle body that was weighed with eternity‒ so you took it into your hands, burning, imbuing it into hard marble. Even with your magic, that fire was too wonderful to be able to be ignited properly once more‒ dying out into a swift smoke when you craved that warmth again‒ leaving you cold, and dark. So you tried to let the turbulent waves of eternity wash over you, hoping it would eventually wear you down into nothing‒ a crude mimicry of a dazzling, human death.

“It..” You stopped, counting the centuries on your hands, but heaviness in your head made memories virtually irretrievable. “It’s been about six-hundred years, I think. I stopped counting a while ago, but I can give you a proper number with a history textbook. I was born exactly a hundred years before the City of Flowers was named.” You felt a little bad that you had stunned all those at the table to silence, quietly wishing Carter was here to pick up the mood.

“…You’re from the Shaftlands?” Deuce asked, breaking the awkward stillness.

You imagined your hometown, but you couldn't recall what it looked like, who your neighbors were, the smells, the dishes, the festivals. But your memory had not failed you when retrieving the memory of that night Dr.Krios found you, the smell of alcohol and bleach still stung your nose; the phantom sensation of broken marble embedded in your skin. After that night, there was nowhere for you to truly return to, reminisce with friends what flavors, smells, and experiences you tasted during your youth in that city‒ fuck. Your memory truly was failing you‒ you tried to remember your mother’s face, but all you could remember was a distant, muffled voice and nothing else. What did she look like‒ sound like again? What did you call her? Mama? Mother? Mom? You mentally shifted through multiple faces in your mind, aimlessly matching those words to them‒ but nothing. It almost brought you to tears, but you swallowed it with the tasteless, dryness in your mouth.

“I was, yes.” Was, everything always “was”. Nothing never “is” in the face of eternity.

You had been pushing it into a dark box inside your mind for a while‒ but you knew you would have to face this idea of eternity over and over again, like some Sisyphean bastard. It nestled in your heart as a part of it for a few centuries, growing as you attempted to replace the hole people would leave inside of it with anything‒ anger, apathy, madness, something you could grip and squeeze, searing your hand to preserve something of their fleeting existence. When their body and memories began to wilt however, so did that thing in your fist‒ allowing the hollowness of eternity to fester, eating away at the remnants of your heart. So for the last two centuries, you had retreated solely to the S.T.Y.X labs, severing almost any human connections to preserve the last fragments of yourself. But after six hundred years of repeated heartbreak‒ perhaps being alive was finally getting to you. You could feel the concerned gaze of the three first years, but your mind just drew complete darkness when searching for words to reassure them.

Suddenly, your mind suspended an image in your mind‒ a moment of clarity. You rolled the image in your mind, feeling out its shape with a delicate grip. You were surprised to reveal a picture of your own sculpture, however with the touches Rook made in his own photography. It was soft‒ like fresh laundry baking under the sun‒ green like a young spring sprout, pink like the color of a human heart. It mixed together in a muddled shade, swirling in a mess, a frenzy of colors. The humanity in that grotesque, fleshy shade made you look upwards again with clear eyes‒ reminded of your own sculpture from the first night he had made his way into your atelier. Rarely did you witness where the images in your head descended from‒ but you could clearly trace those words that came from him which parted the fog of your mind.

“Magnifique….With my human eyes, that is all I can see.”

You squeezed that image of his crystalline eyes, and muddy picture in your head‒ feeling every curve, tasting every color, delicately burning that picture inside your inhuman flesh‒ hoping no protocol would overwrite the wound it made. The breath you didn't realize you were holding came out in a slight cloud once you released from your tense stomach. Were you overheating? Gods, you felt feverish, though the metal of your skeleton still moved coolly inside your blot-packed tissue.

“(-me)? (Name)?” Ortho swung a hand in front of your face, eyes swimming with concern. “Are you okay? Lunch is over soon.”

You traced the engraving that picture made in your mind. “I’m alright. Thank you Ortho." A small smile graced your lips. You looked forward to the next image that would descend upon you, itching at the tender wound stored closely to remaining human flesh. Perhaps you could look at that divine inspiration through those striking viridian eyes before you let it possess you, but it was difficult to say if there was room for more humanity inside your rusting vessel. Still, the novelty excited you.

—————————————————

Ortho showed you around the parts of the school Rook hadn't had a chance to get to during your initial tour‒ giving you detailed explanations to each and every room before arriving at a door decorated with a white plastic plate, elegant black ink indicating it was reserved for the Film Studies Club. You swung the door open, allowing the younger Shroud brother to enter before you did.

“Ah, Monsieur Doll‒ oh! And Maître d’Ivoire, I didn’t know you were a fellow fan of the drama and beauty of theater! How wonderful‒ Vil will be thrilled.”

“Ortho suggested I join the stage set crew, but I’m only here to watch. I’m between the Science and the Film Research Club at the moment.”

“In that case I cannot possibly recommend only one! As a member of the Science Club it would be a joy for such an advanced cybernetic being like yourself to join our circle, however‒ as an assistant here at the Film Research Club, we could surely use your masterful skills in designing a truly spectacular set. Ah‒ I'm so torn‒ but the Science Club has so much potential for you, on the other hand ‒ “

“Rook! A word, please?”

“Ah‒ excuse me, mes amines, duty calls.”

You nodded mutely, unable to cram another word in the ceaseless string of sentences that flew out of his mouth. Bidding Ortho good luck with a pat on his head, you sat yourself in the auditorium, mumbling to yourself how you seemed to never be able to escape your feathered stalker.

"Alright‒ look bright first year potatoes‒ we've got a lot to work on! Rook! Where are those two third years that are supposed to be here for rehearsal today? I specifically asked him to come today for just a brief run through!" The inflection of his voice reminded you of an angry, chirping bird, one which Rook reflected with a mulled rumble.

"Désolé, Vil. It seems they're stuck in detention today…perhaps we can run the rehearsal without their parts?"

"No, no." The one you assumed was Vil shook his head. "These first years will be absolutely lost without the two leads for this scene‒ Rook, you'll stand in for Hyacinthus for this scene. And…" He threw his gaze right at you. "You. I don't know what you're doing lounging about‒ but be useful and play Apollo for today."

Briefly catching the smile quirked onto Rook's face, you sighed, pushing your body off of the seat, climbing the steps of the stage and taking the script pushed towards you from Vil's hands. You've never acted before, but it was like sculpting, right? Let life, let humanity, let death possess your cold body like a sublime ghost. Like your hands which carved that glory into glistening ivory, it was now your words which would shape a life out of the breath sucked into your lungs. You were quick to memorize the words on the page, embedding them in your throat as you took position by Vil's command.

"Lie, like this." He instructed. "Loosen your body Rook, lean against their body." Vil directed your bodies at the center of the stage, embracing each other under the dusty theater lights. Both you and Rook did as you were instructed, pressing warmth against warmth. You felt him squirm under your hardened fingertips that rested on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if my cybernetics are uncomfortable. I could try to touch lighter, if you'd like."

His golden hair gleamed like ribbons in the light, swaying as he shook his head. "Non, you're quite soft." Despite being rocked by his deep breaths close to your own, those words felt distant‒ or perhaps a better word was "distancing", or something which attempted it. It didn't feel quite far, just muffled from your senses‒ still "soft" rang clearly in your mind like a bell, echoing the warmth it brought in your chest as many times as you allowed.

"You're comfortable, then?"

"Yes." His answer came like the wind, a quiet whisper, grazing lightly against your ears. You began, words at your throat bubbling, when Vil commanded action onto the scene. You let the image in your mind possess you.

"Your hair never quite lies flat, here." You touched the smoothed sheen of Rook's hair, plucking a golden strand out and feeling its silk between your fingers. "I don't think I've ever told you how I like it."

Rook pulled the script closer to his face. "You haven't."

“I should have." You let the strand go, seeing it fall gently into the bright curtain crowning his head. Its glow reminded you of gilded gold, glowing porcelain shining through from its age. "What about this? Have I told you what I think of this, just here." Reciting the script with your body, you tipped his head back, drifting your hands at the base of his throat, feeling the pulsing beat which echoed in its hollowness.

"No." He turned his body towards you, taking one slow step back to kneel below you. Sliding his script into another hand, he kept his gaze on it, before slinking his other hand into your gloves. The metal creaked inside your skin, and you thought to cringe at its harsh sound. But the tenderness of which he muffled that metallic squeal with his palms, wrapped lightly over your gloves, stopped you from hardening your face. "And have I spoken about this?" He lifts your hand above his eyes, you follow it, hoping to catch a glimpse of green pointed towards you. "Your hands calloused, from the divine poetry you pluck from your golden lyre." A pause. "Surely I haven't forgotten‒ tell me I did not, Apollo."

"You did not, my muse." You went to cup your hands around his, like the script instructed, but you found the paper to be in your hands‒ in the way. Without a second thought, you threw it out of your hands, somewhere out of your line of sight, its spine cracking harshly against the wooden theater floors. The words were engraved in your mind already. "And what of this‒ Hyacinthus‒ have I spoken of it?" You rested a knee to the ground like him, separating each of his fingers with your own.

“No.” His answer comes even quieter this time. You don't worry if his voice carries to others as it should during any rehearsal. The mountain in his throat bobbed, the muscles near his jaw shivering.

"There is this too." You reached a cold hand towards his face‒ still the anxiety of your harsh body instilled in your mind. The skin round your metal bones, to the organs sitting, packed in your torso were all made with the violence of human desire. You searched his eyes for that same hunger, again, but you found nothing this time. The space you held, hesitant, above the pink of his face softened into a solid touch. "I know I have told you of this."

He sucked in a shallow breath you could feel under the pulse of your palm. "Tell me again."

For a moment, you felt that divine image withdraw from you. It was petrifying‒ there was no instance in the six hundred years you had lived where that holy possession left you empty before you could carve it into the hardness of reality. But when you found yourself warmed not by its fleeting light, but the one that beamed from the flush of Rook's cheek‒ you let go of that chill, drinking in the heat that throbbed under your fingertips. Still as marble, you let yourself sink into the green of his eyes, this time, which were pointed directly at your whole with what could only be described as adoration.

"-Cut!" The brightness of the entire stage lighting up once more brought you back to reality. You shrunk your creaking hand from him, cringing at the scraping sound it made under your skin. "Zephyr‒ didn’t I just tell you that it was your cue right there?? You should already be on set by 'Tell me again'. Mark that on your paper so you don't forget, again.."

You chilled your face by feeling the metal under your skin, draining yourself of the remaining pieces of that image, that heat‒ moving smoothly before you reached a hand to Rook, still on the ground with the script in his hands. He looked up at you, seeing the shadow you created, staring blankly for a minute before shaking it off in favor of his usual fox-like grin. Even in the harsh darkness, you saw that shimmer pooling in his eyes.

"Merci, mon ami."

You stared mutely, watching him take your hand, the tip of his middle finger drew softly across your bare pulse, revealed by the pull of your glove by his grip. On instinct, you pulled away while he pulled in to lift his body off the ground‒ the tendons in your arms stretching, stretching, stretching until you felt them snap beside the metal bone. Anything but your hands‒ the curse which ineptly attempted to infuse your eternity into still flesh‒ much too quick‒ gone, gone, gone, you remembered.

Rook jerked backwards while the base of your arm tore into two‒ your body falling towards him to catch him with your other arm, stabilized with your light-fast knee lunging to him. Your in-tact hand easily caught his back, while you stared, wildly, into his widened eyes. Raising him to an upwards posture with a controlled straightening of your leg, you brought him back up to the soles of his feet‒ letting go as soon as he was balanced on top of them. You felt many eyes on you once more, concentrated at your shoulder where you uniform ripped, revealing the blot that bubbled from silvery metal under your ruptured skin.

Vil turned his head towards, you his stiff body following it. “You‒“

“I know.” That answer came sharply. You inhuman brute, immortal beast, machine‒ I know, I know. In the centuries you had lived, the eyes and whispers of many never bothered you much‒ but when you felt Rook graze against your cursed hands which spearheaded your parting with human flesh, after you two had held flesh against, what you thought was your flesh once more‒ it plunged you back into that hollow body, too large, too tall for your human heart. You felt words scorch your throat.

Play the part‒ let it possess you‒ empty the cup, fill it with an image not your own.

“I’ll be fine.” You raised a hand to cover the hideous healing of your arm, spurting and gushing with viscous black ink to forge your body back to its original form. It felt cold, writhing and twitching in the air‒ a heartless mockery of warm blood which fluttered delicately under human flesh‒ one you felt on Rook’s face just a few fleeting moments ago.

You saw Ortho appear from the curtains, floating towards you, examining your arm with worry. “(Name)- are you okay?? I think you should get that checked! Brother can take a look at it‒ just in case?” He pleaded.

Shifting your head downwards to examine the blot, you made the mistake of sweeping your eyes across Rook’s‒ his lips parted slightly, eyes widened into a crystalline solidity your wavering eyes did not possess. Too bright‒ burning. It welled a tightness in your throat.

Clenching your teeth, you answered Ortho. “I think I’ll do that. Excuse me.” Your legs leapt off the stairs of the stage, body swallowed by the darkness of the auditorium, back warmed by the light that radiated off of the stage. You heard Vil clap his hands, before the murmurs of first year students began once more as you slipped out of the room. Your body moved automatically, bringing toward the courtyard, where the shed was situated. Slumping your shoulder against it, you forced your way in, stumbling onto the wooden floors. Looking around, gliding your bleary eyes across the statues‒ you recognized no one.

Who’s memories did you hold? Who’s sadness was this‒ who’s hurt? Wounds felt too large, too feverish, too alive to feel like it belonged to your cold metal body. Who’s heart was this? Take it out, take it out. Your hands, your body, your life had been one filled with that action‒ stripped of anything you embraced. But just this once, you begged the sky where divine images descended from, to take just this one thing‒ everything, if you must‒ away from you. But it was fogged from your ragged, white breaths‒ and even without it, you weren’t sure if the gods above would gift you that clarity, the hope of a human‒ for, surely, you did not recognize humanity within you anymore. You tried to remember your own face from six hundred centuries ago, one which held the liveliness, the hunger, and the grotesque flush of a human’s. But no images descended upon you, so you shook that hollowness in your metal hand, hoping to crush it into a solid form with the pressure. No tears were shed, for such pleasures were only reserved for those of animal flesh. But you wept, voice rising from your chest, becoming foreign and uncanny when they reached the throat.

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Notes:

Rook’s character kind of reminds me of Oba Yozo from No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu‒ I think one of his biggest fears is someone seeing through the mask of his character because behind it, there’s fear, anxiety, an emptiness which he seeks to fill with even just the fabrication of passion (in that way he also reminds me of Confession of a Mask by Mishima). For him, I think he’s paralyzed with choice, so he kind of overplays his character of “hunter of love” to cover up the quiet anxiety he feels about all the possibilities that are stretched out before him. But in some ways that becomes security, truth, clarity for him to the extent that the straight forward/intuitive manner in which you speak and create kind of muddles that picture of clarity for him. So theres a reality in that "hunter of love" character but its also very fragile because it was originally meant to be a stand in for something more concrete. I saw a post on tumblr with a concept drawing for his character that said “表情がウソくさい“、meaning his expressions seem “made up”/played up, so I was like ah yes, I’m absolutely going to read too much into this. And now here we are lmao

Is mood maker a phrase in English?? Lol i don’t remember lmk if its wrong

When Mitski said “Yet Now I find I’ve grown into a tall child” I felt that‒ lesbian Jesus strikes again Mitski seems to find way into my writing every time but she’s also a hyperfixation of mine

Greece actually fell like 2100 years ago around 146 BC BUT i figured with the help of magic technology/culture would move more rapidly?? So I shrunk it down to like 600 years

The play part is pulled directly from Song of Achilles lol (except I changed it to Hyacinthus and Apollo), I knew if I were to write a bit in the play I'd get waaaay into it and the chapter would take forever so, you win some you lose some I guess

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blackstarchanx3new · 1 year ago

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FSR Rambles revenge of the sixth

The titles are dumb.

I'm dumb.

We're all dumb and reading my cringey gay fan comic for a book that has completely taken over my life.

What are any of us doing here.

I don't even like starwars.

This chapter takes place during the "The Fall of Hyrule Castle" chapter aka chapter 2 of the manga.

And yeah there will be quite a few of these and I'll specify where they take place in the break downs. (I try to make it obvious in the comic itself but ya never know.)

Shadow is rambling evil little nonsense and gets dragged to the hell dimension which will look very familiar to us...

This is Dark Link's crib where he lives with all his Links hot chicks Does literally anybody get that reference lmfao.

Also where the four heroes are trapped for 7 years. Well when they stopped being disembodied voices anyway.

Vaati drags Shadow here though to talk.

Shadow's just a cutie pie that wants to please the dude Ganon's no doubt been hyping up as a good alley lmao.

So that's why he recognized the ol wind mage. He saw his divine face before. Vaati's been shown to having shapeshifting magic so I found it fitting he could just...Look like his old disguise.

With the context for this line given: Makes you wonder what else Shadow knows lol.

Vaati being a mentor figure is smth I've always kinda seen him as. I noticed after skimming Vaati's scenes in minishcap Still haven't fully READ it but holy shit there's so many interesting things that link back to FSA....Like uh...How Minish cap Link MAKES THE FOUR SWORD.

I noticed they basically share all their abilities. So I head cannoned Vaati taught him things.

I like Vaati as a pathetic simp who is also a terrible abusive father. COPE. HE'S MY VAATI I DO WHAT I WANT WITH HIM.

Since I've spoiled Hero's shade showing up at some point Woops if you haven't seen any of his art lmfao this also mirrors how he teaches Twilight Princess Link things.

Baby wanted to impress his new dad but new dad is a fan of tough parenting. Vaati sets his expectations high from the get go.

Again: Shadow recognized this attack because Vaati freakin' taught him it. X'D

Fool him once, shame on him. Fool him twice, now Vaati you're just an asshole-

Smth you might notice if you've read the manga a million times:

He blows the four heroes away EASILY but can't get Vaati to budge.

Vaati is powerful lmao not Shadow being weak. XD

Vaati also links his disappointment to physical pain.

Vaati just showing off his power while also making thin threats. A blatant display of who's more powerful, he reenforces Shadow's fear of the light.

Haha. The wording here might ring a bell if you know specific lines from the manga.

Who the hell made Shadow feel worthless before?

Vaati. The answer is Vaati lmfao. Ganon probs too but he's being ignored rn cause I'm unsure if I even wanna touch him tbh.

Vaati's advice comes in handy here actually in more ways than one:

Shadow could shift into one of the heroes, and cause problem.

Shift into Link and cause issues for them.

Also Vaati mentions nobody trusting Shadow how he is.

Ties back into how he shifts into Vio later in the actual manga hah.

Again Vaati veils his and Ganon's disappointment as something to fear, but gives Shadow a small reward of physical affection.

Shadow Link imo obviously craves physical affection so Vaati giving it here is just to keep him on the line of behaving how they want him too.

Shadow can't tell he's being yanked along oof.

Vaati makes his relationship with Shadow clear: Keep in my good graces, I will reward you. Make me angry or disapointed and I will hurt you.

Shadow likes to think he has SOME amount of superiority over Vaati, that they're at least equals but Vaati ain't interested in that.

Hahahha. So much for that plan buddy.

Shadow's eyes were red the entire scene because he's a demon.

I don't got a lot to add to these pages cause they're pretty self explanatory. XD

#four swords returns #Four Swords returns rambles #FSR rambles

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fantomette22 · 2 years ago

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*Knock knock*

FANTOMETTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Since your Elden Ring adventure's nearing an end (I think?? idk) Tell me about your favourite characters!

And have some cookies too cos you deserve them!: 🍪

*OPEN DOOR* BIMBOM !!

My first adventure in the lands between is indeed toward its end (I'm 135h in I think) ! (I forgot to answered you last time sorry too XD) I just need to finished some catacombs and stuff at the mountain tops, the fire giant, Farum Azula, Mohg & Malenia (+ I reach the frenzied flame too! so I might do that too but I need to be sure to have the needle) and I think I did almost everything else ? I think ?? maybe I forgot 1-2 catacombs or a few optional bosses (oh yeah I need to do the bell bearing hunters...) but I think I might have done almost everything else ?? (don't don't ask me for all the items & papers lol XD )

I have the week in vacation so I might try to finished it this week. (Gonna try to stream my attempts at Malenia too...omg...)

So, besides it would probably take hours to talked about all the characters + I don't know everything yet but let's go with the few I liked the most I think.

Ranni my beloved ❤️ I really like her ! (wow what a surprise. But somehow I feel her quest would be more impactful + have more meaning after doing the game a first time)

I really like Iji & Blaidd too T_T

Torrent my dear companion! idk what I would have done without him XD we live quite crazy adventures !

A shame we didn't see Melina too much too... but towards the end I found the little bit of dialogue & hidden bit of lore about her super interesting ?! I know she won't take it well but Melina I just wanna help you...

Rya and Boc my beloved !!! I love them so much they need to be protected ! Miriel too :D (and Kale is cool)

Millicent !! oh dear... I was like : oh yes she's cooI ! It's sad how we first found her. But now I finished her quest and it's the first time I cried in this game ! "Come on Milli Malenia is just around the corner ! What are you even talking about ??" I feel smt is weirdly missing... I thought se wanted to see malenia... she was in the prayer room and then... (I need to post the beautiful pic I took. I wanna draw it ;-;)

I understand now why you all love her so much. I need to catch up with your fic and re read Stolen soon ! (now I will actually get all the ref and understand everything XD)

Latenna goat summon too (with Mimic, Rollo & the wolves lol) ! Can't wait to fight alongside Finlay too ! She seems to be the ultimate mvp

Oh Sellen too... maybe she's not a nice person (idk what she really done but it may be bad?) but she always was nice to me.

About the roundtable now! (I mean I like everyone except Gideon and the dung eater lmao) ! Aka Roderika (one of the best clearly! idk what I would have done without her), Rogier (he deserved better ;-;), Fia (what a really interesting character! D and his bro too), I didn't finished Hewg storyline but interesting so far...

Goldmask is fun but poor Coryhn... Hyetta too man ;-; (girl you're blind how-)

Big Boggart really start as annoying as Patches to ended up as a true bro

Nepheli is incredible ! (+ Gostoc & Kenneth amazing storm veil squad i think they're funny together XD)

Hello I love Fortissax so much too ! (one of the best boss fight for now) I need to know more about Forti and Godwyn !!! omg I have some thoughts!!!

And omg don't get me started and Vyke & Lansseax + Vyke's maiden T_T what went wrong hm ?!?!?!

I finished Gurranq quest too! Well a bit crazy but who isn't but really interesting willing to help

Oh like Alexander too ! And his newphew ! I think he's still chilling in the lava XD (I mean the other tarnished helping us are cool) and wow Diallos... I found he was a bit dumb at first... but damned

Oh Morgott !!! i understand better why people simp on him so much XD he's really cool! and deserved better too

speaking of the demigod poor Rennala ;-; and Rykard is cool but I can't take him seriously with his dumb voice XD

Yura was nice... Thops too...

Oh and Miquella really seems to be the ultimate goat too... can't wait to learn more ;-; ( Myself having a lil bro I feel this siblings might end me)

Anyway they all deserve better!!!!

And I'm gonna stop here XD Thanks for the cookies too ! :D 🍪

#elden ring #elden ring fantomette playthrough #ok so that was long XD #ok I ended talking a bit about everyone XD #I don't have ONE fav it's almost impossible with me I can only do tier list that change a bit all the time

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magnoliamyrrh · 2 years ago

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What drove you to convert to islam?

well, thats a long story now

i was born and raised orthodox - ive always had a complicated relationship with religion, because on the one hand there is a lot of beauty, peace, and wisdom i found in it, on the other hand theres plenty of shit that either just didnt make sense to me, theologically speaking, and also a bunch of mostly sexist shit which really pissed off me since i was a kid. i do have a lot of religious trauma - mostly from my fathers side of the family who is much more orthodox, conservative, traditional, and who very much shoved religion (and a bunch of sexist shit) down my throath, got the idea of being inherently sinful in my head as a kid, whole bunch of shit. my father is also.... psychotic and he is what we call a habotnic, a religious extremist who, well, has bordderrrline essentially more or less joined a cult-like section of the orthodox church made up mostly of men whod been kicked out of the church (many who also happen to be pedos lmao rip) and i grew up with religion being used to justify a whole bunch of horrible shit - shit he did to me, how he treats and abuses his wife, etc

so, when i got older, 11-12 ish, i very much had a backlash against it. nevermind being an atheist, nevermind an edgy atheist faze, i outright hated it and found it to be wholly dangerous. and i did indeed have valid complaints mostly abt sexism, homophobia, hypocrisy, etc. at the same time, i had a fascination with dissecting religion and trying to understand it and studying it, something i had even before then. this went on for some years, and i continued to have an interest in theology; eventually, when i was idk 14ish, i started to have some softer and more malluable views on religion and orthodoxy - also coincided w understanding that religion wasnt what made my father an insane piece of shit, it was simply a tool he used to justify things and a path he went down on - but he could have gone insane down whatever other line

so, for a time i tried to get back into orthodoxy. this was partially from a spiritual perspective, but tbh moreso bc i was trying to keep onto something which reminded me of home in this damn empty and cold country. this is when i started to veil too, before i had anything at all to do w islam, i started praying, i started keeping onto certain traditions more. also when i got into traditional romanian magic moreso. still, i may have been trying to take the best of orthodoxy, but i felt like it never really... fit. there is a lot of beauty i still find in it to this day, and occasionally i still go to a monestary or church, i still hold onto certain traditions but no matter how hard i tried i never quite... felt it? .... and either way, after you have gone through a certain amount of horror in life, it tends to get harder to believe in things like the divinity of everything or that theres any possible sense at all to all the horrid cruelty on this planet etc etc.... i do still struggle w this to this day lol. but. also, i knew christianity so well, had already turned it on every which side, i found that even if i tried, i still had a long series of theological issues with it (many of which i dont remember after all these years, but i do remember that the trinity was one of them)

anyhow, i did keep trying for awhile. and in this whole process, i kept coming across things abt islam. this was also the years when islam was always in the news, usually in a negative light or something abt terrorism, so, it was quite frequently part of mainstream discussions. and i was curious, bc of that, bc i was curious abt theology in general, and bc partially growing up in dobrogea, i knew a very gentle and soft, beautiful islam which was the one of the turks and tatars, who were our neighbors w good food and good music and gentle, soft spoken voices like honey who were always nice to me. and i knew of islam from story books and such, one of my favourite childhood books to this day is a beautifully drawn romanian version of one thousand and one nights. so, idk, i kept coming across things, and i was curious so i looked into it

and... hm. i dont remember quite what first got me. but i did find it interesting, and i found that it solved some of the theological issues and gaps that i had with christianity, answered quesions to which the orthodox seemed to have no answer, made things click into place here and there, annuled some of the illogical loops and hypocricy which bothered me.. i found the analysis and discussion around it fascinating, so much more lively than ones i had seen in orthodoxy. i found the way hadith and quran functioned together to be fascinating, and the entire system behind it - even if today i hold different views of hadith.... i found sharia to be fascinating - and how things would fit into place and work together, shifting parts of a whole legal system and way of life intertwined. sharia always carries such a scary connotation to so many people, and yet, i dont think its a system bound neither to failure neither to opression - the question here is moreso whose sharia interpreted by who and implemented by who. i didnt have any plan to convert to it lol, and yet, it intrigued me enough that i felt a drive to keep digging and digging into it, to keep turning over in my head this and that about it, like some string or force was pulling me

most of all i think i found the qur'an itself to be.. captivating, once curiousity got to me and i started reading it. like sharia, it clearly had to be understood as a whole, and reading it for the first time and seeings its progression and how it builds upon itself was an experience in and of itself. i genuinely enjoyed spending hours reading and listening abt what this means what that meant etc. and it is so direct and personal, moreso than many other religious texts. i did find many parts of it stricking, moving, piercing. its prose and flow are beautiful. it feels alive, as if it is speaking to you, looking back into your eyes and right through your soul. i fell in love with it. and yet, it also feels like this capsule in time - while i no longer hold the commonly held idea that the qur'an is unchanged and there is only one, it can be said that as far as studies can tell from the oldest quranic manuscripts found, it is indeed remarkably well preserved - as if reading the pages you can hear and see them echo throughout time, back to when the words were first spoken..... quran recitation is very beatiful too, and i found there to be something... very meditative, tranquil, calm, soothing in it. something else that felt like it echoed through time. it also reminded me of the way orthodox priests give sermons, which i always found very beautiful and entrancing as well

i appreciated its call for reason, that i do remember particularly drew me in. that it would repetedly, repetedly call for one to question and think and it would give examples of the existence of divinity and explanations and even ask one to try to disprove things- it felt less like blind faith, more like this book was holding an active dialogue with you, and i really liked that. many of them are so beatiful too, many of them call upon nature and its wonders, and i supoose, even when my belief in a god was on very shaky ground, in nature i always saw divinity anyhow. i did find it interesting too how many of the verses did show an understanding of natural phenomenon, could be interpreted in a way which was less science-breaking than the bible, and called upon these phenomenon as signs of divinity.... and i appreciated its call to justice as well, its striving for a just system, society, and way of life. i appreciated its call to struggle for the sake of allah - jihad, which doesnt only mean wartime fighting (which is supoosed to be a very last resort).... its call for the end of opression, and the responsability of each person to do something about ending said opression and injustice

i found its understanding of god to be beautiful, and to make sense - my understanding of this developed more later when i came across sufism, and when i started doing shrooms too lol, but. i always felt the heart of it. which is the oneness of god, pure monotheism; because god is one, and god is indeed all that exists; indeed, everything is one. this is the same thing psychedelics teach you - ego death as its often called - and what many religious rituals of plenty of religions around this world seek to understand, achieve, feel, live by. it could be said that since there are high chances human conciousness developed along w psychedelic use, and since our african ancestors certainly did psychedelics, we are indeed genetially and biologically programmed as a part of our evolution and history to experience and understand ego death - to see and feel and become the connection and thread which runs through everything, the oneness of everything, the singularity of everything, unbound by time. this is what islam seeks as well.... hm. i liked that islam understood allah, unlike in christianity in which god is reffered to almost exclusively as a father sort of figure, to be not like any other thing, and most certainly not male. unbound, unconstrained, never fully knowable to us as humans..the 99 names of allah are beatiful, and i was drawn in by how many times the qur'an proclaimed allah to be all merciful, all forgiving, all loving, etc

.... there was something about it all, the more i looked into it, which brought me a sense of peace, calmness, ease... i found the way of life it promoted to be one of peace - i liked that you were supposed to pray five times a day, i liked that there were certain ways of doing things, i liked that muslims lived like the older romanian people did, always mentioning the name of allah and always aware of divinity. the idea of freedom not being getting to do whatever you may please, but rather living by a series of constraints, to make much sense - and i was drawn to it a lot more than this modern western do what you want individual freedom reigns supreme mindset... i liked that sharia was concerned with the common good and community before it was concerned with the individual.. i liked that islam promoted a middle path, i liked that it called for moderation and reason (things which my father never had), and showed a way of life which was almost monk-like, without leading to monastic seclusion.... i had always wanted to be a nun, you see, and parts of islam drew me in because of that. there were certainly many muslims, mainly sisters, who impressed me in their faith and way of life, the energy and aura that would clearly radiate off of them - women who lead by example, and by only doing so, would make one curious as to how they have come to be this way

i had an interest in other religions as well. i knew some of my ancestors were jewish, and yet judaism is a hard religion to convert to, and harder to be accepted into - and while i have read the old testament several times, i never quite felt a strong connection to it. i was fond of other christian denominations like the quakers for example, i found some of the theological points of protestants to be intriguing, but i still had many of the same issues with it. i find hinduism, buddhism, and sikhism to be beautiful religions with much wisdom - and to an extent being fond of certain kinds of sufism is to adopt a hindu or south east asian influence or to reach similar understandings at least; they are sister religions - but while i look into them, they never really felt like something id follow; not on their own

islam brought me a sense of home, it all did. so much of it simply made sense to me and clicked into place, it felt like learning something i had already known, discovering something that had always been within myself - i supoose, this is why we use the word revert rather than covert, because it feels more like coming back into the fold of islam..... and hm. both arab and turkish cultures felt... very much like home to me, never like something foreign. they made sense, i instantly understood them, both the good and bad parts - so many things were so similar to our own, and to me, they felt, and still do feel, like a second home. later after some years of converting when id go to masjids and eid and such, i again very much found that among the arabs i felt so much more at home than i ever did among the americans. and islam itself, there are many things which i saw which were so similar to orthodoxy, and this brought me a sense of comfort and home as well. and i always associated islam too with the turks and tatars in dobrogea, and so, islam never felt like a foreign thing to me - as converting to another religion may have - rather the religion and culture of our neighbors whom we had so much in common with

.... it just.. it really felt like there was some force pulling me, i had a unending thirst and drive to understand more. id get lost in spending hours reading the quran, id get lost in spending hours trying to understand it. id spend the nights awake reading and contemplating..... i dont know if it makes sense, but i dont mean this in a meme way - it very much felt like islam chose me, not like i chose it. it very much felt like i had become muslim before i had made any such decision, my soul had already made it for me, and i was the one who later realized and accepted it. islam, the word, comes from the word submission, sometimes said to mean peace in submission. i had already felt it in my bones, the submission to its truth and allah, the onesess of everything, before i realized it. it simply was - looking back, it was a very similar feeling to the one you get on psychedelics. you simply.. understand.... i knew my family would likely forsake me. i knew my country outside of dobrogea would forsaken me. i knew many muslims would forsake me for being gay.... but even if i had wished to go back, it was too late, for i had already seen, and felt, and understood, and there was no denial left. alhamdulilah, i do thank allah for guiding me, for it certainly felt like being guided

i have never known as much peace as i knew in those first, hm, months and years, despite the fact that things were hard back then, especially with my family, and my parents were at the peak of being abusive. i never felt such a connection to god and everything, such a suredness, groundedness, and strengh of faith...... it is something i miss, and i regret that these days i do not often pray the five daily prayers, and do not keep fast as often as i did, and do not live with allah in my heart as much. inshallah, i will get back on the path. i did used to be a lot more orthodox back then, islamically orthodox. and as the years passed my relationship with islam and allah changed, and when i came across sufism for the first time, i realized that it was the heart and soul of the religion which i knew, had felt myself, and had been searching for

i believe there is truth in all religions, they are different paths to take, different understandings which seek the same goal. i do not believe in sects, nor do i believe in devision between religions much... we all have our paths; my understandings of islam may have changed over the years, and i may have had, and still have, my struggles, but this will always be the home and refuge of my soul, and the path i walk

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