#And again the majority of these songs are from the same episode

[lovelycandie]

Nothing Like Doing Nothing

Doing nothing with Leona Kingscholar is much more eventful than it may seem. Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader. Established relationship. Leona is completely smitten, but only subtle gestures give him away.

Inspired by the song “Nothing” by Bruno Major. (I really recommend taking a listen, it’s such a sweet song! ᵕ̈ )

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦

Leona Kingscholar could’ve never imagined himself sharing his space with anyone. He liked being left alone and wasn’t the type to enjoy close proximity. Keeping others at a distance came easily, thanks to his intimidating nature, and he found it simpler to deal with people that way.

But despite all that, the aloof lion prince was now curled up by your side on the couch, his head resting on your chest and his tail loosely wrapped around your ankle. It had been a long day for both of you, so some much-needed rest in each other’s company was exactly what Leona needed—not that he’d explicitly tell you that though.

Still, you know your lion well enough by now. So there you lay running your hand gently through his wavy locks, being careful around his fluffy ears. To anyone who knew Leona’s usual gruffness, this would have been a completely foreign sight. Heck, even Leona himself was amazed (and a bit unsettled) by how vulnerable he became around you. You just had to weasel your way into his heavily guarded heart huh?

This wasn’t an easy feat however. You’d put in tireless effort to get to this point in your relationship with Leona. He commended you for it and was quietly grateful that you never gave up on him. How could he not fall for the herbivore who was determined to bring a little light into his life?

There were several things Leona began to enjoy doing since entering a relationship with you. But his absolute favorite thing? Doing nothing. Yes, nothing. Your mere presence was enough to make him feel content. You brought a sense of peace to his usually racing mind; there wasn’t anything you needed to do—just being with him was fulfilling. But, of course, he’d always go along with your whims.

So when you suggested playing video games on that new console you’d received as a gift from Ignihyde’s dorm leader, he couldn’t refuse. In your matching loungewear, the two of you played several rounds together—with you winning almost every time.

It was an odd outcome, really. Leona wasn’t particularly fond of video games, but he is competitive to his core. The same Leona Kingscholar who wouldn’t go easy on anyone—whether in a game of chess or pool—was now sitting here, doing just that with you.

There aren’t many people Leona doesn’t mind losing to (or anyone, for that matter). So how were you winning? Simple, really.

As you focused intently on the TV, completely immersed in the game, he watched you with the same intensity—though you remained blissfully unaware. How oblivious you were to how your eyes sparkled with joy after winning yet another round, or how the grin on your face had Leona wanting more.

“Ha! That’s game 7/10 for me!” you declared, winning yet again.

“You’re real happy, aren’t ya?” Leona remarked, scrutinizing you with a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

“Of course!” you replied gleefully.

Eventually, you grew tired of video games and opted to watch a cheesy romance series you and Leona had seen multiple times. You loved it; it always pulled at your heartstrings. Leona, on the other hand, acted indifferent—but you could catch the way his eyes glazed over every time you watched it.

“Ah, that stupid show again? Fine, if you like it. No, I’m not tearing up. The TV light is just hurting my eyes…” he grumbled, earning a smirk from you.

After a couple of episodes, you and Leona fell into various nonsensical conversations. Your mindless chatter kept him amused, and despite himself, he found it endearing.

“So… do you think fish ever get thirsty?” you ask, dead serious.

“Wha—what the hell are you on about now?” Leona asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a serious question, Leona! Do you think they drink the water around them?” you press.

“You—haa, you know what? Sure, yup, that’s exactly what they do. But if you’re genuinely curious, you could always ask those guys from Octavinelle. Actually, scratch that—don’t go near that shady cephalo-punk…” He replies, indulging your nonsense while throwing a jab at the Octavinelle dorm leader.

Your dumb conversations continue late into the night, with you both eventually clutching onto each other, laughing uncontrollably.

That laugh of yours had him melting. The way your eyes crinkled when you grinned—Leona was charmed. He couldn’t help but notice how your eyes seemed to glisten, and in a rare moment of poetic thought, he mused that if the sky were ever deprived of its stars, it would surely be because they existed in your eyes. It was a cringy thought, sure, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had these disgustingly cheesy thoughts about you frequently.

So it shouldn’t be a surprise that when the laughter subsided, Leona simply stared at you, his gaze soft and fond as he took in every detail of your features, committing them to memory. His deep green eyes glinted, giving away his emotions and just how completely enamored he truly was.

Unable to resist any longer, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently across your cheek before cupping your face with his warm hand. His thumb softly caressed under your eye, searching your features for the green light, he leaned in closer once your eyes fluttered shut. Finally, his lips met yours in a chaste kiss, his adoration fully conveyed by the simple, tender gesture.

When he pulled away, there was a playful glint in your eyes, and Leona looked at you, utterly love-struck. You pulled him back into a gentle kiss of your own, then upped the intensity by playfully biting his lower lip. He stared at the cheeky look on your face when he pulled away—slightly caught off guard, yet amused by your antics.

You had him wanting you even more. Eventually, Leona pulled you closer, capturing you in a deeper kiss. Between the kisses, you fought for dominance, occasional burst of laughter slipping from your lips. This little game of yours ended with the two of you in a tangled heap on the floor.

The thud from hitting the ground made you both pause, taking in each other’s mildly disheveled appearance—still wrapped in the blanket that had draped over you both earlier. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and soon enough, Leona joined in.

If Leona had the choice to be anywhere else, doing anything else in that moment, he would’ve refused without hesitation. Because, to Leona, there was nothing like doing nothing with you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦

✨Author’s Note: Hello! I hope you enjoyed reading my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction 😅 I was encouraged to post by a friend of mine, so I decided to give it a try. Leona is my #1 favorite character for a factor of reasons, his complexity being the most compelling one. I’ve noticed that this complexity of his often leads to mischaracterization which is a bit disheartening.🥲 So, I hope I did him a bit of justice by attempting to bring out the hidden warmness behind his guarded personality. I honesty don’t think I’ll post often (or again lol I’m a busy student T T) but who knows :) - 🍬

[marvelouslymarly]

Dating Bob includes (part 2/?)

[I'm not going into major detail about what happens in Thunderbolts* but as this is set after the film, proceed with caution from here on out! Hope you enjoy!]

CW: mentions of depression/the void; but mostly, it's just fluff!

[Author's note: some of these points/ideas turned out to be a little longer bc I'm really enjoying writing these! Maybe I'll turn some of them into more detailed one-shots/a series if you guys are interested?]

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Masterlist

One morning, you're dancing in the kitchen, music streaming into your ears from the headphones while you're making breakfast for Bob and yourself, the rest of the team out on a mission. Bob was still sound asleep when you snuck out of his bedroom, the sun slowly creeping through the opening in the drawn curtains and casting the room in a soft glow. You're humming along to the song, trying not to be too loud so as not to wake Bob, flipping the pancake in the pan and opening the envelope of kitchen roll keeping the stack of already made pancakes warm to put the next one on top in a second. Wearing headphones, you don't notice Bob walking up to you until he wraps his hands around your waist and places a kiss on your cheek, making you jump a little into his figure. You push one of the headphones off your ear and look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips. "I missed you when I woke up just now," Bob mumbles into your ear, his voice still laced with sleep as you turn off the music on your phone. "Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed," you explain, motioning to the stack of pancakes by your side. After taking off your headphones completely and putting them aside, you turn around in his arms and smile at his tousled hair and the pillow creases left on his cheek. You run your fingers over them and stand up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips.

Some days, especially when Bob is struggling with a depressive episode, he'd sit at the dinner table, lost in thought and a heavier air around him. His gaze glued to the food on the plate before him or slightly off to the side, he'd mumble to himself, barely loud enough to make out specific words. From time to time, his eyes would flash with a faint grey glow, and then he'd shut them, shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts. You'd try to get his attention by slowly and carefully running your foot up his shin so as not to scare or hurt him. When he opens his eyes again and looks at you, you send him a smile, asking if he's alright without having to use actual words. He'd sink lower in his chair but nod slowly, trying to play off the fear visible on his face. The same night, he falls asleep with his head on your chest, tears slowly running down his cheeks while you're running your fingers through his hair and telling him he'll be ok and that he isn't alone anymore.

With him still trying to figure out how to be the sentry while being in control of the void, he isn't put on active missions and the team decides that you'd switch who stays home with him regularly, at first. So, even before you started dating, you'd spend the days reading on the couch or playing video games together, Bob whopping your ass in Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. But ever since the two of you got more serious, the playful bantering about whether or not he cheated would turn into more and more steamy make out session, the games quickly forgotten.

Your shared kisses would be sweet and soft at first. Just a few quick pecks as if testing the waters and then getting more and more heated. He'd pull you close, one of his hands on your waist, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head, and deepen the kiss, his teeth carefully tugging at your bottom lip. When you let out a quiet moan in response, he slips in his tongue, moving it delicately with yours. There's no fear or awkwardness in the way he kisses you, and it never seizes to take your breath away.

Whenever Bob is with you, his awkwardness and distant nature disappear, leaving him feeling lighter! He feels safe with you by his side, which deepens the love he feels for you. It doesn't take long for the others to notice a change in his general behaviour as well, and they soon start to ask him about his change in mood. While Bucky and Ava seem genuinely delighted whenever Bob has a good day, Walker mocks him, some days more playfully than on others, trying to get any information on who's got Bob feeling this way. Yelena, having had seen you sneak out of Bob's room, usually just looks at you, trying to see your reaction to Walker behaving like a prepubescent teen.

[silentstyx]

okay saw that you also write for ethan morgan and could you. write a siren!reader thats like SUPER into him and he finds it unnerving (hes not used to girls Actually liking him) and he agrees to go on a date w her?? you can choose where!

"Bright like blue" ~ Ethan Morgan x Siren! Reader

tw! siren

erm idk which episode had the siren i cant find it 😖 i was gonna rewatch it but nvm ig, anyways ik what sirens are so i'll js thug it out. Also this guy is such a geek that he fs does dates at his house and gets his family to leave the house. he's also broke. i hate this.

(backstory: friends w sarah/erica they knew you were a siren, told the group thats how everyone knows)

Ethan kept his distance from her, to the best of his abilities at least. The thought of her luring someone out and killing them just by using her voice was.... frightening to say the least.

Yet, every time she flashed him the smile he remembered the kind of person she was. That she wouldn't make random men fall in love with her and then lure them out to sea and drown them! Right?

He knew you liked him, Sarah told him awhile ago. He didn't know what to do though, a girl hasn't ever liked him before. He's never even been on a date. I mean he's never really been too interested in dating until last year! Except he would be lying if he said you weren't attractive, I mean you're one of the prettiest people he's seen. Like ever.

"Hey, Ethan wait up" You called for him.

You were going to the same class together, he already knew that. It scared him, but he knew. Why was he so terrified of you? He knew you wouldn't actually kill him, but every once in a while he'll catch a glimpse of a scale or gill thats usually well hidden and it freaks him out.

"you wanna walk to class with-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Do you wanna go on a date?" He asks looking at you, "wi-with me! i mean... do you want to go on a date with me..."

The last part of that was less of a question and more of anxiety and muttering. Yet, you could only smile at him and his dorky self.

"yeah sure" you respond, contently.

He was confused, why was he more anxious about this than you? You're the one that likes him! He doesn't even know if he likes you! Ok, he does like you a little bit... but why aren't you freaking out? Jesus just answer her!

"okay, uhm uh do you wanna just meet me at my house then..?" He was trying to play cool but there was clear anxiety in his voice. His stutter with every other word.

"yeah, sounds cool. So... do you wanna walk to class together or what?" You say, almost teasingly. With that same smile you always give him. God, you're pretty.

He just nods his head and you guys walk and talk with each other to class. You were doing the majority of talking, but you were so funny and so interesting. He hadn't ever talked to you for this long before. Once you reached the class your shared giggles died down.

After sitting through the hour long class he was thinking about what to wear, he had a good idea of what it would be. In the halls you went with Sarah and Erica while he went with Benny and Rory. You both just happened to be talking about the same thing though.

You came over an hour after school ended, there were no cars in the drive way. It looked as if no one was home, except the lights were on. You knocked on the door.

He answered wearing his and blue collar shirt with his formal pants. He looked at your somewhat formal (dress/suit/etc) attire.

"You look great" he says with a nervous smile.

"Thanks," you say with a genuine voice, "you look... geeky"

You both chuckle and he invites you in, offering his hand to you. You grab his hand and he gets a vision of water and a dock and a song.

You being a siren this freaks him out and he lets go of you instantly. While you just look at him confused, why did he drop your hand so fast? He had finally just stopped acting weird around you, kind of. Is he going to start again?

He leads you to the dining room where he set up candles and music, with food that looks surprisingly edible.

The room looked nice but, you had to poke fun.

"Everything looks great, but." Your voice trailed off at the end, teasing him.

He looked at you nervously, "but?"

"Take off the sweater vest. It's killing the mood." You say, playfully making fun of him. Lightly laughing.

He just rolled his eyes, taking off the vest and throwing it somewhere behind the two of you.

You two were talking and laughing the whole night, besides eating the enormous amounts of food that the two of you happened to finish somehow?

"Hey, I wanna show you something c'mon!" You say excitedly, standing up while wiping your face.

He looked at you confused, was this the thing in his vision? What were you showing him? He got up slowly, following you out.

You finally both arrived, hand-in-hand, walking to a somewhat abandoned dock. It didn't look old and dangerous but there were no boats or any signs of recent human life. You leave him and go to the edge of the dock, sticking your feet over. Humming some olden siren tune.

Same song as in his vision, thus making him panic. He stays off the deck completely, scared of what you might do. You turn around, suggesting him to come over as you scoot over. Making room for him. Kicking your feet in the water. He walks over, slowly, to sit with you. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts his feet in the water. Kicking with your feet in the water.

Maybe some visions aren't bad.

[thecheshireprincess]

Let Me

Shuntaro Chishiya x GN!Reader (No pronouns mentioned)

Summary: Your best friend wants to help you carry the struggles you've had since the accident in Shibuya

Content Warning: Reader is in a little bit of a depressive episode, nothing that I think would be terribly triggering. Suggestive towards the end; making out, straddling/dry humping, suggestive words. Probably curse words, I have no chill. Mostly just another fluff bomb.

A/N: This story can be read as a standalone, but is technically written as a post-Borderland part two to Bad Day 💕✨️ I hope you enjoy 😉

Proof of Life is a drabble that falls possibly the same day as this or a couple days prior ❤️

Life had been challenging for you since the incident in Shibuya.

Finding yourself reflecting on that day for what must be the millionth time since it happened, you roll onto your back and sigh in frustration. You had just settled into a booth at your favorite diner with Chishiya after spending the afternoon with the Mona Lisa, the man having shared a piece of himself with you that you never expected to have. Your friend had allowed you to lay your head against his shoulder and soak in the tranquility of the museum, turning your bad day around in an instant. In a way only he could. That is until you saw the colorful fireworks dance across the daytime sky outside the window, unknowingly changing everything you'd ever known. It really must have been your worst day ever, right? With a bat of your eyelashes, you were somehow awake again in the hospital, crying out for your friend and demanding every passing nurse and doctor to allow you see him.

When they finally caved and wheeled you reluctantly to his room, your tired eyes lighting up upon meeting his chestnut ones; you felt like something had shifted in your relationship. Like it was somehow significantly deeper than you remembered it being before, even after the Mona Lisa. You just know that there was something more that happened to you between the fireworks and waking up in the hospital - you just couldn't bring yourself to confide in anyone about it. Especially Chishiya. What if he they thought you were crazy?

Even two months after being released from the hospital with nothing more than a handful of scars and some colorful bruising, your usual routine was still evading you. The siren song of your warm, comforting bed frequently dominated the need to get up and function as a productive member of society. Things had gotten so bad of late that you'd considered dropping out of medical school to stay cocooned all day and succumb to the suffocating tendrils of dark thoughts in your mind. It was the strangest thing feeling like you were missing a major part of your memory like this, despite doctors insisting your heart had stopped for only one minute. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were somehow away from this life for much much longer than that.

You drove yourself to the brink of insanity every day trying to untangle the messy strings tangled up in your mind. Not only did you feel like you were missing memories, but you also felt different after the meteor; changed in a major way. It went beyond just being a little more reclusive - like you wanted to be and do so much more with your life. To be honest, it was overwhelming. It felt easier to lie in bed and hide from the world than attempt to flip your life completely upside down. And so, that's exactly what you were doing.

Only furthering your suspicions, your best friend has been a completely different person since the accident. More attentive. Calling and texting multiple times a day, things you usually had to initiate with him. Bringing you your homework, sitting and studying with you to make sure you didn't fall behind in school. At this point, Chishiya was the only reason you hadn't fallen out of society completely at this point.

And now? Here he was sitting outside the closed door to your bedroom, trying to coax you out like a cat stuck in a tree. You were having yet another bad day, of which there were more and more with fewer good days in between to balance them out. It isn't really that anything bad had happened to you necessarily, it's just that you can't seem to push this heavy weight off your chest or lift the haze of your clouded mind. Would you drive yourself mad before ever figuring out what really happened to you that day?

"You haven't eaten a real meal in days," his monotone voice cuts through your oppressive thoughts, "I brought you your favorite." Your ears perk up the tiniest bit at that - not only had Chishiya known what your favorite thing to eat was, he went out of his way (all the way across the city!) to get it and bring it to you. You hum simply in quiet acknowledgement, throat scratchy from going so long without using your voice or really having much to drink.

"I even got you a milkshake too," his tone lilts - teasing - knowing exactly how to speak directly to your hungry soul, "If you come out here you can have it." You do want the food. And you do want to see Chishiya. He is the only person you care about spending time with right now, the one thing that's keeping you tethered to the real world and away from your more cynical thoughts. But the way the cozy abyss of your bed has lovingly smothered you in its luxuriousness speaks louder; drowning out the call of delicious food and spending time with your friend. You shift a tiny bit, yanking the covers higher without a word. Your silent captor had won once again, leaving you powerless to fight back against it. Would you drown alone in the thoughts flooding your mind?

Chishiya waits a few moments, patient as a saint, listening through the polished wood for a response that he knows will never come. Not when you're like this. "If you won't come out to eat, then I'm coming in there," he warns, ready to get to the bottom of what's been going on with you lately - whether you like it or not. The brass doorknob turns, the door slowly gliding open to reveal the blonde, hair pulled messily into a low bun. If you weren't so caught up in the middle of a battle against your inner demons, his appearance would have taken your breath away. His warm, chestnut eyes rake over your form, covers pulled up over your nose to reveal only your eyes blinking back at him. The corners of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk at your state.

"Hiding from me?" He queries, smirk falling slightly as he carefully rests the bag of takeout on your nightstand next to the untouched glass of water he'd brought you last night. Any sign of ice or condensation long gone from the glass, Chishiya clicks his tongue as he looks at it then back to your much paler than usual face. Disappointed that you hadn't drank it, despite your quiet insistence that you would. Scared that you really might not be alright anymore. Unsure of how to help you if you wouldn't talk through your thoughts with him. He moves to sit at the edge of your bed facing you, his weight sinking into the plush mattress. He rests his right knee on the bed, his thigh pressing comfortingly against your tense body; the sudden contact causing you to jolt involuntarily. He doesn't move away. You allow your puffy, reddened eyes to search his, finding something surprising nestled there - genuine concern. You aren't going to win this; it's time to address the elephant in the room. It feels like an eternity passes as you sit in silent standoff with the man, delaying the inevitable. Chishiya is patient, though. He'll wait all day if he has to. You finally let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and shift a tiny bit closer to the warmth radiating off of him.

You clear your throat, trying to will the hoarseness away. "Not hiding from you . . . just the rest of the world," you force out the partial truth. His head tilts in that chracteristic way - telling you he's listening, urging you to continue. When you don't give him any more to work with, he speaks up instead, "You aren't okay, baby. We need to talk about this. Please."

You're not sure what does it, the unexpected nickname from the man or the outloud acknowledgement that you are not okay, but the tears flood your eyes fast. You blink your wettened eyelashes quickly, swallowing hard, trying in vain to shove down the emotions threatening to drown you once more. "I don't feel like myself anymore, Shiya," you croak in a shaky voice, "I feel like I've been missing a whole chunk of myself since I woke up in the hospital." Some stray tears fall against your face, dragging a sorrowful path down your cheeks, but you don't care anymore.

Chishiya's eyes widen slightly, so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren't so focused on his expression. He nods in recognition of your admission, boldly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks to chase away the tears. Your eyebrows furrow in momentary confusion, but you ultimately allow your head to lean into his shockingly soft touch; burning eyes fluttering shut. The blonde says nothing for a moment, soothingly stroking the sensitive skin of your face to allow you space to calm down. He's here.

"I feel that way too . . ." he murmurs after your tears have dried, trailing off into thought and then chuckling lightly, "Especially with you. LIke something changed between us but I don't remember how. I wish I could." You gasp, squeezing onto his wrist and sitting up so fast your head spins, sheets and blankets pooling around your waist.

"That's exactly what it feels like!" You cry, relief coursing through your veins for the first time in two months. "But it also feels like . . . the things that used to be important to me are so trivial now. Like we faced something so much bigger than ourselves previously and now I can't force myself to fit back into society's expectations of me." He smiles a little sadly at that with another nod, eyes shining with recognition. He feels that way too.

Chishiya gently pulls his wrist from your tight grasp, looping his arms around your waist instead and pulling you to sit in his lap. You'd expect your body to stiffen against the foreign contact, but find yourself melting instantly into him. Your mind and body suddenly more relaxed than you've felt since the day at the museum, loving the way your body molds against his in a perfect fit. The way that he looks up at you now with reverance, warm hands tenderly skimming your waist and ribcage, gives you the confidence to continue talking through the thoughts that had been plaguing you.

"I can't just walk around normally when I have to carry the weight of whatever this is," you say with a sigh, not having the right words to explain this feeling, but hoping that he understands anyway. "I've been trying to figure it out since it happened."

One of his hands moves from your waist to cradle your jaw between lean fingers, gently forcing your gaze to lock with his. Each one of you are suddenly searching for answers in the other's eyes, desperately seeking something. Apparently, Chishiya finds what he's looking for because he pulls your face dangerously closer to his, making your heart thunder against your ribcage from the proximity.

"Then let me help you carry it until we figure things out. Together," he whispers, his warm breath ghosting across your mouth as he studies you through lidded eyes. He hesitates, giving you a chance to back away; to put distance between if you want it. Breathlessly, you answer, afraid to shatter the sanctity of this moment you've been waiting for forever, "Shiya? What are we doing?"

"What do you want to be doing?" He asks, an easy grin brightening his face as he remains centimeters from you, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly. You know exactly what you'd like to be doing. Your eyes flutter shut as a wave of courage surges through your body, making the decision for you. Hesitantly at first, you press your lips against Chishiya's to test the waters. When he responds fervently, hands desperately trying to pull you closer to him, you tangle your fingers into his soft blonde hair and shift yourself to straddle him completely.

His plush lips move expertly against yours, the sensation feeling surprisingly comfortable, almost familiar to you. Like you'd spent hours of time mapping every inch of each other's mouths, though you were certain you would remember if you had. Chishiya cards his long fingers through your hair, cradling your head and pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. His tongue slides over your bottom lip, causing you to gasp; his tongue taking the opportunity to lick into your mouth. He tastes sweet like strawberries, and you nearly laugh at just how perfect this man is.

You feel dizzy, Chishiya's sweet taste compounding with his familiar clean scent overwhelming you as your kiss begins to take a desperate turn. Your hips involuntarily rock against his, the feeling of his hardened member making you whine against his lips. Suddenly, images of a different world come flooding back to you. One in which you were constantly in a fight for your life, held tightly and protected by the man currently underneath you. A world where this very man had already professed his love for you, finally taking you to bed with him and delivering you greater pleasure than you'd ever known.

"Shiya . . ." you murmur against his lips breathlessly, trying to find the words to describe the memories you had just seen like a movie of your own life. What you knew is undeniably what really happened while you were unconscious. He pulls back with a smile, eyes studying your face as his thumbs dance affectionately across your cheeks. The man in front of you nods emphatically, whispering, "I know, I saw it too. It's about time."

"We've done this before . . . done other things before," you murmur, pink dusting your cheeks as you think about the erotic flashes you'd seen. "I wish I could remember what it was like." He nods, peppering kisses down your jawline and neck, gently guiding you to lie down against the fluffy pillows. He leans over you, hands following the curve of your waist, coming to rest down on your hips as he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"Let me remind you?" He questions suggestively with a low growl, his tone shooting straight to your core and lighting your body on fire for him.

You do let him, several times.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Masterlist

Everything Tag List: @potato-vagina @28361573 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mocchii-writes @monkey4lifer @trinibadgyal @izzybizzyk

Chishiya Tag List: @kimsrie @jjkxxy

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of my tag lists! You can specify if there's a character you like or if you want to see everything. Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[uneducated-author]

I have a little conspiracy theory. I think Belinda was never supposed to exist.

Lemme explain.

So, I believe that Ruby was supposed to be a companion for two seasons. I think they had fair notice, probably before they started filming the first, but I think the general storylines were already put in place, and major episodes, specifically 'Robot Revolution', 'The Well' & 'Interstellar Song Contest' were already largely drafted.

I didn't dislike Ruby as a companion, but I really did quite love Belinda. But I feel like this ending feels matched with Ruby's themes, as well as the FINAL episode basically fridge Belinda, literally trapping her in Stepford before having her literally locked in a box.

Final episodes, especially Companion final episodes always involve the active companion. Especially in an RTD season. Rose becomes the Bad Wolf/gets locked in an alternate dimension. Martha walks the entirety of the earth to unionise the human race. Donna unlocks the metacrisis. Even in Steven Moffat, Amy brings back the Doctor, Clara jumps into his timestream, Clara basically drives both the season 8 and 9 finale two parters.

Belinda does... Very little, comparatively. Even her moments with the Doctor feel strange, there's no fallout of her calling the Rani's forces on him, not even any fallout to them being married. She gets a scene where she runs off into the woods to scream, but she doesn't even get an explanation as to who Poppy is from Space Babies, and how the Doctor knows her.

Comparatively, Ruby not only has the emotional weight of stopping Conrad, she also convinces the Doctor of Poppy's existence. Hell, Belinda isn't even THERE when they give the God of Dreams and Wishes to Ruby's family for them to raise.

Theory. Alan Budd was Conrad. Ruby was Belinda. Season 2 starts with a flashback of her kissing Alan, noticeably sexist and disrespectful, names a star after her, and we cut to seventeen years later. The MissBelindaChandra Bots, now known as the 'MissRubySunday Bots' grab her and take her away. The Doctor, of course, comes chasing after her, and the two reunite. This also answers the question as to how Mrs Flood is both Ruby's and Belinda's neighbour. They're the same character. It should be the same house.

The season, largely, continues as normal. Ruby and the Doctor have very much the same dynamic as Belinda and the Doctor. They probably rewrote a lot of the dialogue for a more combative dynamic to distinguish the two. But generally, the two are pretty close, best friends, dressing up and goofing off, and on a rewatch, even when Belinda's words are her own, her actions never feel far from Ruby's.

(I'll admit that's a stretch as 'companion' characters tend to have the same actions, but I hope you understand what I mean.)

Season 2, the vindicator isn't a thing. Ruby admits to enjoying life with the Doctor, and they commit to a couple of funky trips. Replace the 'something is connecting us' speech with Belinda with something like 'the whole universe, and I found you twice/Doctor, I thought I might have to live my life without you, without the universe, let's go everywhere'. This even helps the moment where the Doctor promises Rose that she Will see him again seem to make a lot more sense. Bear in mind, Joy To The World still takes place, so he still has his 'missing Ruby, making two coffees' arc.

(This opening would probably be a parallel to Partners In Crime in some senses? The Doctor and Ruby in the start of Robot Revolution being like the Doctor and Donna constantly missing each other.)

Here, the vindicator never existed. Anyways, it's never mentioned more than a couple of mentions per episode, and even as the deus ex machine weapon against Omega, you could remove every mention of it from the season and it would be fine. The Doctor and Ruby don't have any pressure on getting back on time, they're vibing. It is very much like the last season, only replace the Susan Twist cameos with Mrs Flood cameos.

In 'The Well' we get an indicator that the human race is not in fact gucci. And in 'Interstellar Song Contest' Graham Norton pops up and tells them that the Earth was destroyed on the 24th of May. And this is like Journey's End, when the Doctor and Donna return to Earth, and then the planet vanishes.

(I really see a LOT of Donna's era in this season)

So, in Wish World, the Doctor and Ruby are married. Replace the scene where Ruby knocks on the door and says everything is fake with Ruby being the Doctor's wife telling him that she doesn't remember their daughter. Keep the scene of her being asked about giving birth to Poppy and screaming in the woods, keep the scene of her finding Shirley, only this time, someone else calls the police on both the Doctor AND Ruby. Which is why we get zero fallout of the Doctor feeling like he can't trust Belinda. Because here, they were BOTH reported and taken in.

So in Reality War, Ruby is the companion confronts Conrad, except it isn't Conrad in this version. It's Allan. Noticeably sexist Allan. Belinda even says 'all you ever did was correct me' and that's what he's doing. Correcting the World, in his image. His obsession with obedience.

Hell, it even makes Poppy make more sense. Poppy is born because 'Allan' would want 'Ruby' to be a mother, and in season 1, we see Ruby ask the Doctor if he has children, to which he responds that he will have. Ruby sees him with the space babies. And RUBY, who remembers Poppy, tells the Doctor NO, that she was real, that Poppy existed and he NEEDS to save her. Ruby even tells Poppy 'I wish we were (your parents)' which would make space babies make sense.

Maybe the Zero Box exists, maybe it doesn't, but midnight hits and it's the 25th. And Ruby convinces everyone as to Poppy's existence, and the Doctor leaves, pours regeneration energy into the time vortex, bringing Poppy back and entrusting her to Ruby. (Poppy returns, but is fully human.)

This works for Ruby's themes way stronger. Ruby's arc was always about finding her mother, and being a foundling. I mean, she was even wiped from existence. (They try to make Belinda relate with being trapped in a time storm which is weak).

This is RUBY'S story. Even the idea around family, we get wonderful moments with Cherry and Carla, and after a whole season of Belinda nattering about her parents, we only see her mum for three seconds. And I think they wrote Lucky Day to establish Conrad, and explain why Ruby matters to him.

I don't think this makes the season bad at all. I am a bit upset that Belinda seems like such an afterthought as a character. But here's my theory all the same.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.2 K Warnings: MAJOR ANGST MOMENT Prompt: Alone, desperate, lonely. How did you end up like this? How will you recover? Is recovering even possible? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 56: Who Wants to Live Forever

There's no place for us

What is this thing that builds our dreams, 

yet slips away from us

You sighed, it was a game. Your father had designed a game, and if you wanted to get to the other side you’d have to follow his instructions or solve his riddle. The weird thing was, how much it seemed to be targeted to you. As if he knew one day, you’d have to enter the chamber without him, or without the key. It was fishy, but you still wanted to know what was on the other side. 

The riddle was way too elaborate for him to have created it since Christmas, so you ruled out the chance of it being a trap. You would have gone as far as to say that he hadn’t even thought about you visiting theVault he’d given you yet, as if he expected that to be way later on. It was true that you’d gotten an obscene amount of pocket money on Christmas, and he did suggest you could save it in your vault. But still, there was something odd about the entire thing. 

You read the riddle again “In shadows deep and whispers soft, a secret lies, though hidden oft,” you muttered. “It must be somewhere in here.” You looked around, raptor-like, analytical, and cold. Solving a riddle was a brilliant way to take your mind off everything it was insistent on thinking, and you weren’t going to reject the opportunity. “Whispers soft,” you repeated. In one of the corners stood a long and tall harp. You could barely see it, it was as if it was sucking the light out of the room. You grabbed the star ring you’d seen earlier with a handkerchief and walked closer to it. Nothing seemed to move, but as you walked closer, you could hear it: the faintest sound of the harp, a soft and haunting melody. 

You instantly knew what it was, “The Song of Seikilos”. You swallowed, there was no question about it anymore, this riddle had been designed for you. The Song of Seikilos wasn’t the most common song out there, but you knew about it, and Silas knew that you knew. The summer before the trip with the Blacks, your father had taken you and your mother to Denmark for some political business. You’d begged him to let you visit the muggle museum. He said he too was interested in visiting it and told you to wait. 

A week later you were all in the museum. They had a special music-related event, and inside one of the showrooms you got to see the marble columns that held the poem. But there was also a man next to it, playing the same song on the violin while a lady dressed in Greek robes sang the song. 

You placed the ring closer to the harp, and surely, there were Greek inscriptions on its side. You breathed and took a closer look. You couldn’t read or speak Greek –let alone ancient Greek– but you were familiar enough with the alphabet, and it wasn’t hard to find the “Σεικίλος”. 

You were right, it really was The Song of Seikilos. 

You tried to remember what the poem was about, the small caption next to the piece said something about it being a dedication for Seikilos’ wife. But this had happened years ago, how the fuck would your father expect you to remember? You went back to the inscriptions on the harp. You looked through the text again, paying attention to each of the letters. Was there anything you could read? 

φαίνου? No idea what that might be. λυποῦ? You weren’t even sure how to pronounce that. χρόνος? hronos… Chronos… The titan of time! 

“Of course!” You said excitedly. “The song of Seikilos was an epitaph! A poem for his dеad wife.”

 It said something about Chronos demanding it’s due. About time demanding his due. Time… time… time… you pondered. “Through twists and turns of mind and fate. Seek the truth, but never late.” 

But what could the truth be? Dеath? That was too simple, too obvious. 

Silas would never go for something like that. You leaned closer to the harp, the ring held high illuminating as much as possible, the harp still sucked the light out of it. Either way, right in the corner of the room, under a couple of books you saw something that looked interesting. An old journal. But not just any journal, it was a dream journal. 

“In echoes of dreams untold, the key awaits, in tales of old,” you whispered and leaned in to take it in between your hands. It was heavy and old. Blue leather cover and silver engravings. You pulled it out and held it to the light of the vault. You checked the clock again. 10 minutes. it had been ten minutes since you took your bag. If only you could slow time or make yourself faster. There were plenty of spells that allowed you to do that, none of which you could perform with her wand. 

You took a deep breath before opening the dream journal. Empty. It made sense, after all it said dreams untold. But if they’re not told then… could they be shown? 

You looked at the page and placed your hand on it, closed your eyes and waited. The tick-tack of the grandfather clock and the faintest whispers of the harp the only sounds in the room. You waited a little more… tick, tack, tick, tack… nothing… No dream, no visions, nothing. 

You turned to the harp again, perhaps you missed something. Maybe on the echos old, instead of in the dreams untold, you thought. But there was nothing on the books either. You grabbed the journal, closed it and started inspecting the cover… there was something odd in some of the patterns. You slid your hand over the spine. and suddenly, something clicked. You frowned and opened the journal again, right there in the middle of the book there were a few hollow pages and inside one of them a small locket. 

You grabbed the locket and left the book on the side, on the back, in cursive so small it was almost unreadable, it said:

While you live, shine have no grief at all life exists only for a short while and Time demands his due.

“It’s the poem’s translation,” you whispered. “But why would I need the poem’s translation?” You looked at the book with the poem again. “Through trials dire and trials fair, only the wise shall find it there.” 

Echoes old, and dreams untold, you recited. Echos old, could be old books, you’d already seen a few old books, there were very many in that corner behind the harp. You pulled them out towards the centre of the room. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, The Arcanum Codex: Legends of the Ancient Wizards, The Chronicles of Avalon (that one was fae), The Divine Comedy, The Chronicles of Mistwood Manor, The Iliad, Paradise Lost and the Odyssey. So many ancient books: wizard, muggle and fae;  but how would you know which one to take? 

The poem… the poem was Greek. You took the three books. in your hands. The Iliad, The Divine Comedy and the Odyssey. But which one to take? 

The Divine Comedy was about hell, but it was also about dеath, which could have a connection to the Seikilos’ poem. On the other hand, The Odyssey perfectly reflected the “trials dire and trials fair, only the wise shall find it there” line of the riddle. 

You were hesitant as you picked the book up, you’d read it before. Your mother had given it to you a few years ago as proof of one of the best muggle-wizard collaborations. With the fact that Homer had been a wizard and because of Circe and Odysseus’ collaboration, proved that while wizards were powerful, and could be evil, they could also be benevolent and help humans. But that was before wizards had decided to seclude themselves from the world, and when they were actually trying to integrate themselves into it.

The book was the version you remembered your mother had given you; green cover, and written in verse. You flipped through some of the pages, and right in the middle of one of them, you found a recipe. 

“Shut up,” you whispered as you looked at it. It was sleep draught. “Fine then, that’s it,” you said annoyed. You were stuck. Except, what if you weren’t? You took the locket from the table in which you’d place it, and stared. The key awaits, in tales of old. 

What if the locket really is a key? But a key to what? 

You spun around in your place, paying a closer look at all the things scattered in the room. The harp and the clock jumped at you at once. 

You walked towards the clock: χρόνος. Chronos was such an important character in the poem, it made sense for it to be an equally important character in the riddle. In seconds you were right in front of it. It had been 15 minutes since you started. You placed your hand over the clock, there were many intricacies detailed all over. From a wonderfully sculpted story on the cover to details of the moon, stars, and planets on the face. It had not two, but eleven hands, 2 for hours and minutes, and then one for each planet. They were right around the clock, and moved ever so slightly each day, mirroring the real movements of each of them. 

And then, right behind the small cristal, there were the winding ports. You took the locket in your hands and cranked it open. Right inside of it, there was a small winding key. You placed it on a spot, and there was a soft chime you took in a breath. Good, now you had to find the rest of the keys. 

You grabbed the book and went over some other lines of the riddle: In silence vast and darkness deep, the answer lies, in dreams asleep. but wake ye now, and heed the call, for time is short, and darkness falls. You glanced at the clock, there was something there now that wasn’t there before. The moon phase section was changing every couple of minutes. It went from crescent to quarter in less than 5. “For time is short and darkness falls,” you whispered as you took a deep breath. “Fuck,” you said when you realised that you didn’t have much time. 

It felt like you were spinning around and around and yet you didn’t get the result you’d hoped for. You turned to the rest of the books. You frowned and turned to the riddle again. There was something about the wise: only the wise shall find it there.

“The wise,” you repeated as you pondered. Greek, the Illiad, Wise. “Athena! But where?” You thought of looking in the book, but something told you that might not be the solution, you had already found enough things in books, there was no way the rest were in them too. 

You looked around the room again, there were so many things it was like looking for Waldo, or worse yet since when you looked for Waldo you knew exactly what you had to find, a small man with glasses and a red striped shirt. Now thought? You had no idea what you were looking for. Still, you looked around and focused. 

That’s when you spotted it, right at the top of one of the huge shelves that held piles and piles of things, there was a statue of an owl. You scoffed when you realised what kind of owl it was, a fucking Athene. You used one of the hundreds of piles of books to lift yourself enough to pull the owl from its place. 

That had never been an issue before, a small spell would be more than enough to have it float gently towards you, but you had to improvise now. You almost tripped and fell, but you managed to hold your balance and took a deep breath once you were back on solid ground with the owl in your hand. You started to twist it around, looking at all his sides. But there was nothing, not a single thing. 

That’s when an idea popped into your head, you took a deep breath and dropped the entire statue into the ground. It burst into hundreds of smaller pieces, and yet they all looked like they had been designed to crack a certain way. You looked at the floor, they had somehow arranged themselves, one line towards the clock, and the other one towards a small cabinet in the far end of the room. You walked there and started opening all the small drawers. 

They had ingredients for potions, and jewellery and– bingo! A vial. Clear liquid, a simple, omnibus label: φάρμακο. You suspected what it might be, the horrifying thought sinking in like a doxy’s fangs. You sighed as you unclogged the cork and brought the potion up to your nose. 

You took a deep breath. Nothing. You concentrated a little bit more, you used the same technique you had developed lately, and while you didn’t physically turn into Vixen, you called upon her sense of smell. There it was, cleverly cloaked, clearly done by an expert, it must have been worth a small fortune. But it was clear as day: Valerian Root and Sopophorous Bean. 

Draught of Living Dеath.

Rather proper, since φάρμακο is old Greek for both poison and cure, you remembered Slughorn had mentioned that once.

If you thought it through, there was no way you were drinking to a different potion. While a simple sleeping draught would have done the trick, like the one in the small note still in your pocket, there was no way time allowed you to brew such a thing, not with the moon already being full, and with half of your time gone.

Now, you knew how dangerous draught of living dеath could be, and this is when the dire trials came back, you could either drink it, do the brave and reckless thing, or you could try and brew the other potion. With no wand, and barely enough time to find all the ingredients.

You took a deep breath, if you took only a drop, really a drop, nothing more than that, and if the potion wasn’t concentrated enough, then perhaps it would be enough for you to fall asleep and wake up before the moon was dark again. 

It was now or never, you took a small hairpin from one of the corners and dipped it in the small bottle. Your breath was short, breathing had become harder as you moved the small, poison-filled pin towards your face. It’s what was expected of you, your father knew how reckless you were, if he had left that there it was for a reason. Not many would be brave –or stupid– enough to drink Draught of Living Dеath, except perhaps someone as stubborn as you or him.

You stuck your tongue out and gently brushed the hairpin right on top of it. You placed the bottle on the side and looked around. Nothing, perhaps I should take more, you thought, and then the walls started to change, coating themselves in a black gooey substance before disappearing entirely. 

“So I’m dreaming,” you said, there was an echo of your voice, going all the way to the end of the seamingly endless room you were in before coming back to you, in a voice eerie similar to yours but also vastly different. 

Deeper, richer, sinister, “So, you are dreaming.” 

You swallowed, it was pointless to ask where this was, or anything regarding the nature of the place, you knew you had a limited amount of time and no matter how different time was in dreams, you couldn’t afford to lose any of it, not unless you wanted Chronos to demand his due.

“I’m looking for a key,” you said, your voice echoed again, louder this time, and then, out of nowhere, something, or rather someone appeared right in front of you.

“We know,” the thing said. It was a figure, almost a mirror to you but with no face, all dark and smooth like a mannequin. Only a sunken mouth, awfully reminiscent of a Dementor’s. It didn’t move as it spoke. “Why do you want it?” 

“I need to get to the other Vault.” 

“The mirror,” a whisper said.

“She wants the mirror,” another whisper returned. 

“I just want the key,” you replied. “I need to see what’s on the other side. It may be dangerous.” 

“It is dangerous, child,” the voice said. 

“It’s a terrible idea to go,” a different one added.

“Perhaps… I still have to do it,” you retorted.

The creature in front of you smiled, a sharp, shark-like grin, “that’s what we wanted to hear,” it said. 

“Two paths lay ahead of thee,” one of the voices started.

“One of us always tells the truth.” 

“The other one always lies.” 

“You may ask one question.” 

“To either one of us but not both.” 

“Ask away, little sprite.” 

“Or stay in the darkness and relent.” 

“It is your choice.” 

You sighed. You knew this riddle, your dad had given it to you when you were 10, you couldn’t find an answer and you begged him to give it to you. He’d said one day you’d guess it yourself. 

“But what if I don’t?” you’d asked, concerned.

“Then you’ll go through the wrong path and something bad would happen.”

“But you could tell me now. Then nothing bad would happen to me.” 

“And you wouldn’t learn a thing,” he had answered indifferently. 

You held back a resentful groan, as you bit your lip. This stupid game was getting beyond annoying.  If this was his way to have you solve his stupid riddle, if he thought you ought to learn something from putting your life at risk, then he might be even worse than you thought. This wasn’t even tough love, this was a reckless gamble of your safety, whatever lesson you were supposed to learn from it was in no way worth it.

And yet, you’d go through with it either way, and he knew you’d go through with it, you were obdurate and determined, and you had to know what was on the other vault. The dream beings had confirmed how dangerous it was, you could not leave it on his hands. Not on the same hands that had cast crucio on your mother. The action that made you react harshly and cause that fire, the action that had caused her demise. 

You turned around, you could hear a faint echo of the clock and the sound of the moon phase section changing again, you were running out of time. 

“I–” you staggered. How could you trick them? One question, what could you ask? 

You turned to one of the paths and pointed at it, “Would the other Omnius voice tell me that this is the way to the key?” 

There was silence, and then the voice said, “No.” 

If it was lying, then the truth would have said “yes”, and it would have changed it to “no”, which meant it was the right path. If it were telling the truth, then the lying voice would have said “no”, and it still would be the right path. 

“Then this is my way,” you said and walked towards the path. 

“Are you sure?” one of the voices said.

“You might be wrong,” the other one added.

“Or you might be right.” 

“Logic in the dream world can be different than back on earth.” 

“What if we switch?” 

“What if we both lied?” 

“Then the riddle would have always been unsolvable by logic,” you said with a shrug. You were confident in your answer.  

“And magic?” 

“Potions?” 

“Veritaserum?” you asked. “That would be cheating.” 

“Isn’t it worth it? To fulfil your task?” 

“Would you drink it voluntarily?” 

“Of course not!” the voice said, irritated. 

“Then it wouldn’t,” you replied. “Unlike Silas, I do not think things can be achieved by any means necessary.” 

The voice laughed, a loud, horrifying cackle that resonated and echoed through the entire room. “She really thinks she’s so much better for following her moral compass.”

“Where has that led you, child?” 

“Alone.” 

“Abandoned.” 

“Motherless.” 

“Loverless.” 

“Straight towards despair.” 

You looked at them, their heinous words echoing in your head, each one stronger than the last. All of them ringing truth to your ears.  But you weren’t going to put your happiness above the one of those you loved. You were not going to let them suffer at your expense. Not when you tried to help Nina and not when you broke up with Sirius. 

“Well then, I’ll walk there gladly, as long as I can still protect the ones I love,” you replied, tears prickled in your eyes as you ventured into the path. 

It was dark and it seemed to grow smaller the deeper you were. But you pushed on, after a long walk, you entered a chamber. You looked around, it was empty, except for a deep plunging drop, and a floating slab of concrete in the middle. And right there in the centre of the island, there was a small jewellery box, with the same engravings as the Grandfather clock in the real world. You knew how dangerous of a jump it was, but you had to take it. 

You took a few steps back to build momentum and you ran. You crashed chest-first into the side, it knocked your breath out and you barely managed to hold onto one of the raised tiles in the floor. Tears prickled in your eyes as you struggled up. How did it always look so much easier in movies and comics? This was almost impossibly tough to achieve. And you had relatively decent arm strength. There was a wand lying on the side, just within reach.

 You hadn’t seen it before but you took it and pointed downwards. “Confringo!” you shouted, the impulse the spell gave you was enough to flip you upside down and have you crash, back first, onto the concrete, your head slamming with an unsettling loud thud. You groaned as you looked up at the nothingness above. 

And then you heard it again, like a faraway whisper: Tick, tack, tick, tack… The ever-so-constant reminder that you had no time to rest. You exhaled wearily and groaned your way into a sitting position. You took the small jewellery box in your hands and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge You were about to smash it into a wall out of exasperation, a riddle within a riddle within a fucking riddle, it was getting out of hand. 

But there was a small glistening thing in the side of the box with some kind of engraving: ᾄδειν Σεικίλος. 

Of course, you thought and recalled the poem you had memorised just in case, “While you live, shine,”  there was a click inside the box. “Have no grief at all,” another click and then a twist, “life exists only for a short while,” a louder sound came from the box, like a small bell, “and Time demands his due.” 

The box opened in a second, surely, there was a key, mirroring the one that had been inside the locket there. You grabbed it, expecting to wake up, but nothing happened. You looked around, there were other trinkets scattered all around, but none of them had anything that could help you wake up on the outside.

There were unlabeled potion bottles, there were other wands like the one you’d used earlier, there were some bones in the corner and there were even a few books– the same ones that had been next to the harp. But there had to be a way to wake up, there had to be a way to get out. 

And there was an infallible one, one that you had heard of before and that your father had made sure to drill into your head in the past. 

“Darling, our little girl is having nightmares.” 

“She is?” he asked as he leaned down to look at you, you must have been four or five.

“There’s dragons, and trolls and big scary dogs that want to eat me.” 

“And where are you in the dream?” 

“Running through the forest, and then I reach a cliff, I can’t run anymore, they,” you sniffed. Those small child eyes, normally filled with wonder, were filled with tears, “they eat me. It hurts.” 

“A cliff you said?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then jump.” 

“Ju-jump?” you staggered. “But it’s dangerous and there are pointy rocks at the bottom, I would diе.” 

“Is the best way to wake up from a dream.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” 

“Wouldn’t being stabbed by rocks be less painful than being eaten alive?” 

“Silas!” your mother chided. 

Your father threw her a look and then one at you, a small smile playing on his lips, “Then… You learn how to fly!” he said as he took you in his hands and twirled with you in the sky. Your laughs filled the room, your mom was clapping and he looked at you with the purest of smiles when suddenly, out of nowhere, he let go of you and you plunged into the floor. Of course, you fell into a mattress he had apparated there, but the fall hadn’t been any less jarring. 

On the floor, you looked at him with a terrorized expression. 

“Silas!” Avis said angrily. 

“It’s so she learns it’s not that terrible to fall,” Silas responded as he pointed at you, a dismissive sort of look. “Children like it.” 

“She’s horrified!” 

“She is not! Look at her!” 

Both of them turned to you expectantly. You were small, but you knew if you said the wrong thing, the two of them would fight, and you could never tolerate their fights. With your heart hammering in your chest, you smiled faintly and then started to laugh. The tears that left your eyes, were considered laughter-induced rather than the terrified ones they actually were. “Again,” you managed to say, to sell the idea further. 

That’s when you decided you had to become an expert at flying, you couldn’t allow Silas to throw you again.   

And yet, here you were, back in a dream and you would not only allow Silas to push you down a cliff, but you were about to plunge into the dark abyss, willingly. “He always gets what he wants, doesn’t he?” 

You leaned over the edge, looking down, there was no breeze, nothing that could indicate how far of a fall it might be, if there was an end to it at all. You had learned how to fly so you wouldn’t fear the fall. You hadn’t been afraid when you fell from your broom and you wouldn’t start being fearful now. 

You extended one of your legs, your feet dangled over nothingness, you took a deep breath and then you plunged. If you screamed, the hollowness of the place made the sound disappear. The rush of the fall was there, the same plunging sensation you felt sometimes on a broom, it was beautiful and harrowing at the same time. 

And then, you woke up. Your breath was short, there was a thin coat of cold sweat over your limbs and the place seemed way brighter than you remembered. The key, was in your hands, it was lighter here than in the dream, but it was there nonetheless. 

You opened your palm, it was almost the same as the other one, except for a slightly darker colour. You stared at it as you tried to catch your breath, you wanted to laugh and you wanted to cry, but you glanced at the clock instead. Third quarter, you sprung up from where you lay and ran towards the clock, placing the key straight on its spot. The moon phase went from Third Quarter to Waning Gibbous. It wasn’t much, around 4 more minutes than before, but four minutes were enough to make the difference. 

You took the book with the riddle and went through the last lines, the ones that you hadn’t used before Paths diverge, yet all converge to where the truth and secrets surge. Choose wisely, seeker, lest you fail, and in the end, your efforts pale.

“Choose wisely, seeker,” you thought. Could he mean?

You turned around, looking for something, and right there in the middle of one of the bigger shelves, there was a golden snitch. When you stepped closer to her she released her small wings and started to fly around the room. 

You had no broom, but you had experience, if she thought you weren’t looking at her she would lean closer to taunt you, that was what they always did. You walked towards the pile of books you had left in the centre of the vault and grabbed one of them, flipping through the pages while keeping an attentive eye on the clock. The moon was back in Third quarter. You were running out of time. You were just looking at the pictures in the book, the Peverell bothers talking to Dеath, Dеath giving them the hallows, you’d heard the story many times before. You waited: one look at the pictures and a short glance at the clock, the tick-tack almost maddening as the small snitch kept buzzing around the room.

And then it happened, the small golden ball flew close to you, right in front of your face. You were as quick as humanly possible and took it with one of your hands. You could feel it melt at your touch, suddenly you no longer had a snitch but a small shiny key. Its colour lighter than the other two. 

You turned to the clock: Waning Crescent. The tick, tick of the handles seemed to get thicker as you approached it, louder, so loud it was almost deafening, but you never stopped walking and lodged the key straight into the one remaining hole. 

Three paths, three keys, they all converged into one single clock, into a master of time. The bottom door of the clock opened itself, and on the other side you could see nothing but darkness. 

You had solved it, and yet the next step was as daunting as some of the trials you’d already accomplished. You took a deep breath and walked inside. Darkness, darkness, darkness, and then… light. Not blinding but enough to make you squint. A vault, twin to the one you had been on, and yet vastly different. All the things had been piled to the side, and in the centre back there was a large something covered by a thin fabric, it draped down the sides of it, allowing you to see a shape, it looked like some kind of door. 

You walked outside of a clock, exactly the same as the one in the other room, and towards the large thing at the end. You didn’t hesitate to pull the thin white sheet from it, there was a small cloud of dust that wafted through the air due to the harsh movement and then, once the dust settled, the sheet fell on the floor with a gentle thud. Not a door, but… a mirror.

Except it wasn’t quite that either, you could see your reflection, but there was something odd about it, it was you, but, there was something about it that looked different. 

You looked at the mirror, there seemed to be an inscription at the top “riapsed dnaht urt d niflla hsuo yt ini htiwt nemrot ren niruoy tubega sivruo y ton tcel feri ” 

It was English text, which surprised you since you assumed it would also be Greek, everything seemed Greek that day. You read it aloud, it didn’t sound like Greek either –you thought it could have been the pronunciation rather than the spelling. You pulled back a little, trying to get the big picture. The mirror was tall, far taller than you, even Remus would have fit inside of it perfectly, and it would have surpassed him. It had a silver frame and it had pointy ends, it reminded you a lot of Hogwarts Architecture. 

You wondered if you’d ever seen a mirror like that, and you didn’t quite remember such a thing. Yet, it was oddly familiar as if you had seen it before, perhaps in a dream. You reread the words again, and that’s when you realised what it said. It wasn’t Greek, it wasn’t even a different language, rather, and quite proper of a mirror, it was in English, but spelt backwards.

"I reflect not your visage but your inner torment, within it you shall find truth and despair,” you read aloud. There was a slow chime as if it had come from the clock behind you and not the mirror itself. The reflection in the mirror wobbled as if the screen had turned into a silvery pool instead of glass. 

You walked closer again, you knew reading the inscription had activated whatever was inside of it, but the idea of seeing your inner torment was not something you were eager to do, it wasn’t something that you wanted to face. You’d been running from it incessantly since Christmas, and you did not want to stop now. 

But you had to.

Whatever was inside the mirror was reason enough for your father to make that dreadful riddle, and if it had been that hard to accomplish, then there was definitely something worthy inside of it. You looked at the mercury-like screen ahead of you and took another step towards it. You placed your hand on it and saw how the entire thing wobbled alongside your small push. It seemed to almost stick to your finger before releasing it and going back to its place.

You remembered what one of the voices in the dream had said, the echo so present in your head, it was as if they were speaking to you again, “Straight towards despair.” 

Right in front of you stood a mirror of despair, and you would walk right inside of it. Head high, and breath calm, even as your heart hammered inside your chest. You took a deep breath and took another step, and then another. The metal liquid surrounded you completely, and suddenly you were somewhere else. 

You were falling, and then you crashed onto a mattress. Avis and Silas were there. 

“Mum,” you said, tears prickling your eyes. “Mom, you’re here!” 

“Look what you’ve done!” She said angrily at Silas, “She’s crying.” 

“No! No, I’m–” She looked younger, far younger than you remembered, far younger than she’d been when your chimaera swallowed her. 

“She can barely speak.” 

“She must learn! She must become stronger! If she wants to survive she–” 

“Silas!” 

You knew what this was, you didn’t want to see it. You stood up in an instant, “It’s fine, I’ll go to my room,” you said before exiting the living room as far as you could. You locked yourself in one of the closets, and things were calm only for a second. The doors opened, your room was different, and you, or another version of you was there, writing something furiously on some parchment, bunching it up and throwing it on the side. 

Regulus’ letter was on your bed, you walked towards it and picked it up, you now knew what it said, how much heartache would have been spared if only you had given Reggie a chance. “Read it,” you told her. 

She turned to you, tears in her eyes and a scornful smile, “you have no business here,” she replied, snatched the letter from your hands and threw it towards the fire. 

She watched it burn with a tear sliding down her cheek and then went back to writing the letter she was working on, you looked over her shoulder “Sirius, This is the last letter I write. I’m sorry for…” you knew exactly what she was writing, what you had written. 

You sighed, and walked toward the door, next thing you knew, you were in the shack. Remus had a cloak, and he was panicking, looking at the bIood in his hands, breath sharp and desperately looking at James and Peter. 

“Where is she?” He asked, you could hear the desperate crack in his voice. 

“She’s okay, she’s with Sirius,” James said with ease. Peter was looking at the broken metal door with a confused face, and trying to place it back into place with a spell. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he pressed, there were tears prickling in his eyes, he looked livid and terribly upset. “This is her bIood,” Remus said, his voice breaking near the end. “It smells like her!” 

James licked his lips and took a deep breath. “Yes, you accidentally scratched, nothing else. You know,” he said. “You remember.” 

“No, I–” Remus breathed, he was entirely forlorn.  He frowned, “I lost track of them! She was there and then she wasn’t and then–” Remus shook his head and sat back on the bed “–There was a fox.” 

James nodded, “She’s the fox.” 

“Moony was trying to bite her!” 

“That didn’t happen,” James reassured. “There were no bites.” 

“So, she’s okay?” 

“She needs to get patched up,” James said, “but she’ll be fine, she’s tough.” 

You wanted to walk towards Remus and give him a hug, to tell him that you were all right, that you would be all right. That it wouldn’t even be the hardest thing you’d go through in the past few months, but the scene dissolved into another one. Remus, James and Peter turned into dust, so did the room, and it slowly rearranged into a larger room. 

You heard the door close behind you and then turned to the only person remaining in the room. Evan. He stared at the door dumbfounded, a mix of hatred and relief evident on his face. You weren’t sure why you were there, and you were about to follow yourself when you heard a sob. You turned around to look at Evan hesitantly, a small confused frown knitting your eyebrows together. He was crouching down on the floor, face hidden in his hands and a stream of tears leaving his eyes. 

You stared at him confused. A part of you wanted to place an arm on his shoulder and tell him things would be all right –not that you could actually interact with him– the other part, the one still sad and angry about what happened in November was almost thrilled he was crying. But the first one won over the second and you approached him cautiously. 

He was muttering incoherent things as he spoke, something about Arkalis, about you saving him, about hate and compassion and Merlin knows what else. You swallowed, when you implied to his father that he was straight, when you manipulated Arkalis into thinking you had kissed his son to get him off Evan’s back you were just doing what you considered was right, you never expected for that to mean so much to Evan. Let alone break him down into tears. 

It made sense now, that he and Barty had helped, what you’d done there was a lot more than you initially thought, your simple, almost dutiful act of kindness had meant a lot more to them than it had meant to you. You had earned the help they’d given you, simply by being kind. 

You stood up, it was not your place to be here, in fact, you assumed Barty would be here soon anyway, for some reason you seemed to be surrounded by tragic love stories. You looked at the clock in the corner, and then you heard a scream. 

You were paralysed by it, your breathing caught in your throat, a small sob leaving your lips. You knew what that was, you knew who that scream belonged to. 

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, no, no,” you repeated, breath sharp and chest heaving. “Not this again, I don’t want to go through this again.” 

Suddenly Evan wasn’t on the floor anymore, he –or a distorted shadow of him– was right in front of you. Tall and imposing and as terrifying as he seemed that night in the forest. “Go,” he said, although it wasn’t quite his voice. 

“I don’t want to,” you replied, voice small, filled with anguish.  

The world around dissolved and you were back in the hall. Nina was being held by two wizards while her mom was being tortured on the floor. 

“I don’t want to see this!” you insisted. The door from the terrace where you were with Reggie was still closed. You were both still there, this was before you arrived. Nina was crying, and screaming and her mom’s jarring shrieks were even louder. You closed your eyes, but the sounds became even more vivid, louder and overwhelming, you felt like your ears would bleed if you didn’t open your eyes again. 

Bellatrix shouted, there was a blinding green light and then Nina’s mother fell on the floor with a hollow thud, eyes shiny and completely defocused. 

Nina let out a shrilling cry, something so loud and harrowing that you knew instantly what it was. The one you had heard from the terrace. Bella started saying several things, and you saw yourself leaving Reggie on the chair and speeding to the area, determined to do something, determined to save her. If only you knew that determination would lead you nowhere. 

The second you spoke, and Nina turned to you, the entire scene dissolved. Now it was your father looking at your mother after she’d been stepped on by the Chimaera, you gulped, his screams had been swallowed by the commotion that day, but today you were closer to them. In your father’s gaze, there was anger and desperation and he looked both irked and terrified as he held your mother’s charred body. 

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes as you saw your father filled with despair. “I’m so sorry, I just wanted to do what was right, all I wanted was to–” 

The scene dissolved again, now it was Nina taking your face in her hands and telling you that you had to keep moving. You looked completely appalled, desperate, borderline hysterical; but Nina looked at you with a loving gaze, a calm, lake-like balminess emanated from her celadon eyes as she spoke, loud and clear. It hadn’t felt like that in the moment, but Nina had spoken to you for several sentences before you caught what she was saying before she told you to look at her, to really look at her and then told you how it wasn’t your fault. 

The scene dissolved as you and Nina walked towards the window. The scorching heat of the Chimera dwindled and was replaced with an eerie coldness. Your heartbeat paced rapidly, you knew what was coming, and you didn’t want to face it again. You shut your eyes as the scene around you started to darken, “Please,” you begged. “I don’t want to live through this again, please.” 

But if there was an architect to this ordeal, he either didn’t hear your pleas or chose to ignore them. You felt something cold graze your cheek, and when you touched it you realised it was snow. You sighed, you were surrounded by hedges, the moon high above you, bright but nonetheless harrowing. You knew that moon, you knew what she’d witnessed, what you were about to witness again. 

Suddenly you and Nina passed by, running fast as Lucius appeared, throwing a spell and taunting you over the dеath of Cygnus Black. You fought, fierce and determined and strong. Lucius wasn’t all that great of a duelist, but you were weak, marred and using a stolen wand. Had he been any better you would have lost to him after the first couple of spells. Then he made the hole in the ground you threw a spell on him and started to repair it. Nina saw Lucius get out, she saw him pointing his wand at you, and then she saw something else. Something behind Lucius. Whatever she saw, you hadn’t seen it then and you still weren’t able to see it now. 

She nodded and pushed you, the spell hit her and she fell on the floor. You –the other you– instantly crawled towards her with a raw scream, the bright shining light was there again and then from behind Lucius appeared Evan and Barty. 

You were crying and pleading and telling her it would be all right even if the two of you knew that wasn’t true. You turned your gaze to the side, trying to avoid looking at it again, but then you turned back, tears streaming down your face as you stared. You wanted to see Nina alive again, you wanted to hear her voice, even if it was her last breath that you’d hear.

Seconds later you were crying and trying to use the wand to revive her, but nothing worked. You knew nothing would and yet you harboured an inch of hope that maybe in this dream, Nina wouldn’t diе, that she would wake up and run the hell away from that hedge with you. 

Barty approached you and tried to pry you off Nina’s body for a few minutes before he actually managed to do it. Nina became butterflies and you saw one of them lean closer to you, to the real you, not the dream you crying on the floor; but the spectator of it all. 

“Nina,” you whispered, the butterfly batted her wings and flew along the rest of them. 

The scene dissolved and you saw Sirius, he was in what you quickly recognised as James’ bathroom. He was on the floor and panicking. He was saying something about it not being a dream and about you being in danger. 

“It was real, and she’s alone, in the snow, pretty much passed out, we have to do something. Maybe I can apparate there or–”  

“You’ll splinch.” 

“Damn it, James!” Sirius snapped. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” 

He looked absolutely desperate, terrified, you wanted to hug him and tell him things would be all right but then James spoke. “Remus!” he said. The scene dissolved again. Now it was Remus running through the shack, looking at the fence and then at the window you had used to save the butterfly. He ran through the snow, desperate, out of breath until he found you. 

You had been too numb to see his reactions, but when he touched you, with that tenderness that he managed to always pull off, you saw how scared he was, as terrified as Sirius as he pressed his hand onto your face and realised how cold you were. He had stuttered several times until he managed to get proper words out, he carried you. And then, just as he apparated away, the scene dissolved. 

This time it took longer for the next scene to appear, all of the mist around you changing colour and slowly solidifying into something else. It was you and Sirius, in the Potter’s kitchen. You sucked in a breath. The entire scene passed over, how you asked Sirius if he liked Remus, how you told him you would leave, and how he begged you not to do it. 

Sirius’ tears were gut-wrenching, you wanted to run and hug him and hit the person who had made him cry like that. The problem was, it had been you, you had been the one to make his eyes well up in tears, the one to make his voice crumble, and the one to cause him all of that distress. 

You held back the tears, “I get it!” you said loud and clear, your voice heavy with emotion you tried to conceal. 

“I get it!” you repeated as you turned around. “I cause despair, I’m the source of it on everyone around me, people cry because of me, people diе because of me! Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Nothing, absolute silence. The scene in front of you, of Sirius plopping down on the floor with tears in his eyes, of Sirius crying and in distress, was there, and then it wasn’t. It dissolved, leaving you in an eerie nothingness. It was so vast you weren’t sure where it started and where it ended, there was silence, and it was cold. Not as cold as the snow but cold enough to send a chill down your spine. 

It felt like you were not only alone but forsaken. 

“You get it,” an echoing voice rang in your head.

“She thinks she does,” another said.

“She’s wrong and she’s right and she’s confused, and so, so alone,” a third voice said, mocking pity on every word. 

You looked around, but there was no one, the voices seemed to slam directly onto your head.

“But you don’t have to be,” the first voice said.

You did not like where this was going. You had read plenty of ghost stories, any offer too good to be true was probably laden with some secret evil. This place, the entire trial felt exactly like a horror story. And yet you felt so lonely, that you listened. 

“There’s rock,” the second voice said.

“It will help you bring me back, my love,” you froze, it was your mother’s voice. You turned around, tears welled up in your eyes as you saw her. It was not your mum, but the charred remnants of her that the Chimera had left, but it had her voice, and it had her eyes, your eyes.  

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at her. Trying to think of a way to help her. You were walking towards her when there was another voice from behind you. 

“You can bring us back.” 

You sobbed and turned around, you had recognized her voice, you had missed that voice, a tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at her. She was as you remembered, cheeks pink with the cold and blonde waves stained with crimson. She was looking at you like you were the last hope she had, the one thing that would stop her from despair. 

“Nina,” you said, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, you sniffed as you tried to breathe. 

She smiled, the smile you knew so well to be hers. “With this,” she said softly and extended her hand towards you. “Spin the stone three times, and we’ll be back.” 

She extended her hand, she was holding a ring in between her fingers. You looked at the ring, you were hesitant, but you took it. Her hands felt like Nina’s, but cold. You looked at the ring, a dubious frown accompanied your sniffing. 

“Spin it three times and bring them back,” one of the voices said. 

“Bring us back,” both Nina and your mother said at the same time. 

“You will bring me back, won’t you?” Nina asked, her voice soft, hopeful. 

A stone that can bring someone back from the dеad if you spin it three times. “It’s a Dеathly Hallow,” you said in a soft, surprised exhale. 

“It is, dear,” your mother said. Her charred hand was upon your shoulder. You turned your head to look at her, out of the corner of your eye you could see how burned her entire body was, “you can use it to bring us back,” she added, with a smile that looked so much like her and so much unlike her with all the charred skin that you shivered. 

“Mum?” you said, your head cocked to the side, your voice nothing but a whisper.

“Go ahead, pretty girl.” 

“Save us,” Nina said. 

You tried to hold back the tears, but it was useless, you took a breath that got stuck in your throat. You had read the Tales of Beedle the Bard, you had read other muggle fables, doing it was a bad idea, and bringing someone back from the dеad was about the worst thing you could do to both them, and to yourself. But with your mum being charred and with Nina’s hair turning crimson rather than blonde, both because of you, you wanted nothing more than to fix your mistake. 

You desperately yearned to have them back, to hug them again, for their scent to fill your nostrils like it had so many times before, the light wood-like smell of your mother and the blue lily and lavender perfume Nina used to wear. The images in front of you, although faithful to the last time you’d seen them both were nothing other than a brittle and shallow reflection of them. 

The imitation was almost perfect, the slight ups and downs from the way they spoke, the colour of their eyes, the way their faces moved, the way the light hit Nina’s freckles. They were so similar it was easy to be fooled by them, but beyond that and if you looked closer, they were nothing more than a mirror of who they really had been, a frail reflection of the women you’d once loved. A projection, beaming at you from the distance, light shining from a dеad star.

You had read that once in a book, and you hadn’t quite grasped the magnificence of it until you too, felt it. 

“Darling?” your mother said, cocking her head. “Spin the rock! What are you waiting for?” 

“Three times, and then we’re back,” Nina chimed.  

“Are you not going to bring us back?” Your mother asked, it sounded angry. 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Nina said, her eyes welling up with tears. “I thought we were friends.” 

“No,” you said to yourself as you shook your head. “No, no, please don’t do this to me.” 

“Darling,” your mum said, her voice was that of a reprimand, cold and stern, she sounded more like Silas than herself. “Spin it now, bring us back!” she urged. 

You were taking steps back, away from the two of them but they stepped towards you as you did. Your mother was angry, even beneath the charred skin you could tell she was seething. Nina was sad, crumbling, cheeks red and stained with the track of her tears. 

“Please,” you begged. 

Nina fell to the floor, knees crashing onto nothingness with a loud thud, “I don’t understand… We were friends. I loved you. I was in love with you, why did you not love me back? If I were Sirius or Remus you would spin that stone in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you? Am I not enough?” 

“Nina,” you said. 

“I diеd for you!” she screamed. “I’m dеad because of you!” 

You stopped cold when she said that. She was right, and she was dеad because of you. You took the stone ring in your hands, held it closer to your face and touched the stone, tentatively, only with the tip of your finger. And then, out of nowhere, a small blue butterfly landed on your finger. You looked at her, it was the same butterfly you had helped enter the shack. 

“Have you also diеd because of me?” you asked bitterly. “Do you also want me to bring you back?” 

You put your finger back in the stone, but the butterfly got in between, not letting you touch it. You frowned as realisation hit you. That was not Nina, Nina would never say those awful things to you, no matter how many times you had said them to yourself. 

The butterfly on the other hand? The one trying to stop you? That was a lot more like the Nina that tried to snap you from your destructive thoughts back at Evan’s manor. Like the Nina that had hexed Bellatrix without hesitation to defend you, like the Nina that had pushed you out of harm’s way, like the real Nina. 

Nina whispered your name, and you looked up at her. “Bring me back,” she said. “I want to live again.” 

“No,” you said. 

“What?” your mother asked, the steady but furious tone you had come to know so well. 

“I said no,” you repeated louder this time. “I can’t help you.” 

Nina’s face fell to the ground, a tear streaming down her face while your mother stalked towards you angrily. Nina looked up at you, anguish and despair so evident that it was almost heartbreaking. “Is it because I’m not good enough?” 

“It’s because you’re not her,” you said simply. “She wouldn’t want me to do it.” 

“But I do!” She said distressed. “I do! I want you to bring me back! I want to live again! I want to feel the sun on my face and hear the hollow sound of the wind and taste chocolate on my tongue and see you.” 

“I can’t.” 

“But you kiIIed me!” she said desperate, her face morphing into an expression that you weren’t sure Nina was capable of making. “You murdеred me, I diеd because of you! Why won’t you bring me back?” 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT NINA!” you shrieked, your voice breaking near the end. The figure pulled back. “You don’t know how much I wanted you to be her. How much I wanted to see her again, how much I craved to hear her voice again. But your voice, although similar, is not hers. And your eyes? They might be the exact same colour, but they don’t twinkle in the way hers did. You,” you looked at the charred figure. 

“You both are nothing but an illusion of who they both were, of what they were…And you could never be anything but. Because…” you hesitated, you didn’t want to say it. “Because you’re both dеad.” 

The figures dissolved in an instant. 

You crumbled onto the floor and sobbed. The nothingness embraced you like an old friend and you allowed your tears to stream down your cheeks in a cascade of pent-up emotions. All the denial you had forced through them, all the times you had blinked them away. 

You cried and cried and mumbled incoherently how sorry you were over a hundred times. Nina was dеad. Your mother was dеad. They were both gone, and they would never come back. You pulled the ring from your fist, you’d held it so tightly that the shape of the stone had etched itself onto your hand. You held it between your fingers and stared. 

Not even this rock would bring them back, even if it was a real Dеathly Hallow, even if it had the power to bring people back from the dеad, you were sure the price you’d pay for it would be far more devastating than the crumbling ghost of the person you knew that it would bring back. 

“Truth,” a voice said, echoing in your ears the same way it had done inside the dream.

“She saw past despair and looked at the truth,” the other continued. 

“You may go now, child.” A third one said. The reflective-like screen appeared in front of you. You could see the colours of the vault on the outside. You blinked and then turned your eyes back to the ring. You extended it right in front of your chest, holding it in the palm of your hand, before turning your hand upside down and letting it fall to the floor. 

“You won’t bring it with you, child?” the second voice asked. 

“No,” you said simply. “Something like this shouldn’t exist.” 

“Destroy it then.” 

“I can’t,” you said, you had felt the power within it. It was dark and dеadly. “You know I can’t.” 

“Then someone else might take it. Use it.” 

You let out a breathy scoff and then sniffed, your nose was still filled with snot from the tears. “Not if it’s unfindable,” you said and stepped out of the mirror. When you turned back to look at it, Nina and your mother were tapping at the crystal desperately. As if they too wanted to get out as if you were the only one who could help them.

You reached inside your pocket and took Nina’s wand in your hands. You looked at it with a sort of sorrowful look, eyes glassy with tears and then pointed it at the mirror. You took a deep breath, “Reducto!” 

A flash of light came from Nina’s wand and crashed onto the face of the mirror, turning it into shreds. The wand had worked better than any wand you had ever used in your life, as if she had been made for you. 

Unbeknownst to you, your spell hadn’t trapped the ring in the mirror forever, but rather, transported it back to its original place, Gaunt House. And it would remain there for years, until someone else, someone much weaker to the whispers of the dеad, tried to use it.

There's no chance for us

It's all decided for us

This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us

Who wants to live forever

Who dares to love forever

Oh oo woh, when love must diе

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3

Read more Marauders Fiction

[alien-til-i-stage]

so something i dont see much online is how similar hyuna and luka actually are.

When we meet Hyuna, we get introduced to how upbeat and her free spirited personality, both in how she acts and in the song.

This in particular speaks almost in entirely of freedom and the desire for it. She sings about living her life for her and “a bird set free”. As obvious from her being rebel, everything points to how she desires freedom from the aliens and control over how she lives her life. We can also see this in a comic where she says the reason she enjoys singing is because on the stage she’s the one in control.

Already from a young age, control is something she has wanted, over her own life and her performances. And for her saying this, I think its even more interesting if we look back at All In. The majority the song takes place both in a bar where Hyuna is singing or the mission both Hyuna and Mizi are doing.

We already know that Hyuna likes to sing to feel the control over the stage when she’s there but I find it interesting that, yet again, the entirety of the episode was her demonstrating her freedom and control. There were even moments with her on stage remembering Luka and Hyunwoo and continuing to frantically continue singing as if trying to run away from them.

This could mean that rather than her just singing out of enjoyment of her control, she’s on that stage for the control. Almost like she’s desperately clinging onto that feeling to remind herself that she’s not weak, to run away from her helplessness as a child. Another reason for her to be on as many missions as she was shown to be, maybe another way to prove to herself she has the control and power now, not the aliens.

we can continue to see mentions of her trying to escape her memories in the song “Drunk and Party” as she says “I don’t wanna go back, everybody listen.”

Essentially Hyuna uses her own stage as a way to regain her control as well as her missions. Which is where Luka comes in.

In the same comic where Hyuna speaks about control on the stage, we see Luka as an adult on the stage as well, most likely during the 49th season.

It looks almost like hes remembering Hyuna’s words from when they were both children, which indicates that Hyuna’s reponse effected him.

In an interview about round 5, someone asked why Luka imitated Sua, and here is the response that was given.

Its told that Luka does this, not to win, but to feel control and dominance. Unlike Hyuna, who has many ways to feel this way and demonstrates it in almost every way of her lifestyle, this is the only way for him to do so. He is literally a puppet except for when he’s on stage.

The reason for Hyuna’s response being so important to him is likely that Hyuna’s attitude about singing effected his own. In the comic, kid Luka seemed curious about Hyuna finding control on the stage, showing that at that point Luka didn’t view the stage the same, so its likely that after their talk, Luka began to view the stage as a way to control.

This is how the two of them are similar, yet opposites. They both desire control and dominance in their lives and dedicate themselves to it, yet while Hyuna lives a life where she can easily do that, she feels no need to hurt others in order to do so, rather able to choose to help them as a way to feel powerful, but Luka doesn’t have that same choice. He lives life as a puppet, with no other way for control. His only way to feel in control is on the stage, so he takes his chance to and hurts the other contestant, purposely trying to hurt them as much as possible just because he can.

I truly believe that had their situations been reversed, where Luka was instead the purpose who got to leave while Hyuna stayed behind, theres a chance they couldve had completely different lifestyles. I also believe that they also, in a way, represent each path Till could take. If he were to stay in alien stage for the next season, would he turn out like Luka, someone who hurt others to feel in control, or if he was able to run away and become a rebel would he distract himself from his pain and constantly chase after that feeling of finally being free?

idk i just really like hyuna and luka

[grimsonandclover]

first prev

Sympathy is a knife.2

or; Wake up, I'm sorry.

Stanford!Tashi x tennis player!reader

Song of the post 'when you sleep - my bloody valentine'

Tashi Duncan visits you at the hospital. It could have been her.

SFW

2.4k words

you know the drill. injury, medical shit to the best of my ability which isnt a lot, tashi duncan being kinda gay??? homosexuality? in front of my salad? if you squint, reader being emo but like come on, hospitals, nurses, knee splints, DRUGS (the medical kind and morphine), reader is generally unwell but she also just came out of surgery, suicidal thoughts, more mentions of vicera, its the hospital episode (again) (like beach episodes but less horny and sexy and fanservicey more painful and ugly and intimate so nothing like a beach episode), enemies to idk what this is! I'm a native english speaker but i play fast and hard with the rules of the language (meaning i fuck up tenses a lot and don't catch it all in editing, but i know they're there so i think that makes it better), minimal use of Y/N but there are some points where I had to.

The steady rhythm of the heart rate monitor was the only indication that you were alive.

Tubes in your arm. Tubes in your throat. Hues of purple and yellow peaked from under the immobilizer brace and pins covering your leg and drainage tubes, matching with the same shades of color under your eyes.

Despite it all, she couldn't help but think you looked peaceful. You looked dead. The nurse said you were still knocked out from surgery and would be for a while. Tashi wondered if you were dreaming.

Tashi wondered if you always looked so lifeless in your sleep.

Her sepia eyes couldn't move from that leg. The bandaging, the knowing what's right under. She saw your soul, and then she saw your bones and blood. Tashi had cried in her mother's arms when it had fully hit her.

Tashi Duncan won the match. Your injury meant your forfeit. It didn't taste as sweet at she wanted, more bitter and even vexatious. She wanted to win through skill, not... this. It almost felt like you did this on purpose. You pitied her.

No, she knew that wasn't it. It was easier to blame you than accept the fate of an athlete. These things just... happen, sometimes. It could've been her, instead. But it wasn't. It was your bones that reached for the sunlight filtering down on the court amongst the blooming crimson, not hers. Tashi was here, standing before your resting form, with two perfectly functional knees.

When the nurse came and told her it was time to leave, and Tashi gathered her things from the small armchair in the corner of the room where she watched you from, she felt... strange. Changed.

The fan of your eyelashes on the tops of your cheeks, your pallor, the halo of hair framing your face and resting head. Those tubes. The IV. The heart rate monitor. The surgical steel pins securing your knee in place. Her eyes land on the small tattoo on your inner wrist, one she'd never noticed before. Tashi recognized them as your father's initials.

There was the girl she hated, softly asleep despite her surroundings. You almost looked beautiful, and then she got this feeling in her chest, and it startled her.

She pitied you.

Waking up was miserable. Your throat was dry like never before, the lights hurt your eyes worse than any hangover you've experienced, and the feeling of the scratchy hospital gown made you want to claw your skin off. You could hear your heart rate monitor, and in that moment you wished it would just flatline.

The sob that broke out, despite how dry you felt, when you saw the state of your knee, was ugly. Your nurse, Nurse Amanda, was a useless piece of shit. You had major respect for healthcare workers and everything that they have to go through on a daily basis, but Amanda could go fuck herself to hell. She's the one that had asked you for an autograph when you requested your brother's music to be played.

"Oh, your knee." She'd say casually while writing things down on a chart as disgusting, fat, blobs of salt ran down your face and chin and you tried to remember how to breathe properly. "Some physio and you'll be right back on the court or in the club. I'm sure."

"How," hiccup, "How much physio?" You try to wipe the tears, but more keep coming. It's like your eyes were sucking any moisture from your mouth and lips just to supply a fresh batch of them. Wasn't Amanda supposed to bring you water?

Fucking Amanda looks down at her chart, tapping a pen to her chin. You were on drugs, but no amount of them could completely rid the feeling of your knee and it freaked you out. Every time the corner of your eye caught on the metal pins that poked from it, you felt a shiver run through you. "About a year, possibly more, possibly less. It was a brutal break."

She covered her mouth sheepishly like she just told you the secret ingredient in a family recipe. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that."

No, she shouldn't have. It just makes you stare at your fucked leg even harder. It just makes the tears fall even more. The collar of your hospital gown, one a powder blue, now soaked a darker cornflower.

When Tashi returns, you've calmed down considerably-- mostly thanks to the increased dosage of morphine. It's been two days since, and it's actually hard to remember anything that happened that day. Or the day before, or when you first woke up this morning. God bless morphine.

Though you can't tell, Tashi hasn't changed from what she wore when she visited you yesterday. Nobody even told you that she came earlier, and she preferred it that way. She didn't know why she came back, or why her heart fluttered when the nurse told her that you'd woken up.

Tashi stood still at the door, and you lay exactly where you would stay for the foreseeable future on that damn hospital bed staring back at her. She noticed how you had such pained eyes. The harsh hospital light cast shadows from your browbones to your cheeks, draining color from your pupils. How'd she never seen it before? Words dried in her chest like withered flowers before they got the chance to bloom, and she could feel them sit there. Tashi honestly had no clue what she wanted to say. She could say "I'm sorry" or "Are you okay?" but those were useless words. She didn't like useless things.

When you spoke, and you spoke first after a long stretch of awkward silence and staring, your voice was clearer than it was earlier-- because Fucking Amanda finally remembered you might need hydrating after sobbing for three hours straight and major surgery. Despite that, you still spoke low and broken.

"What are you doing in New York?" She's meant to be back in France.

A pull between her eyebrows, like an invisible string being yanked. "What?"

You look aside at the circles of cleared dust. She heard you, you weren't that quiet.

"Fuck you." She slowly shakes her head. What she means is fuck you for questioning her, because she doesn't have a good answer. You can read between the lines.

You laugh at the suddenness of it, and then your head spins a little more. In a nice way, even though you're meant to be scared of her. "It's a reasonable question. You're meant to be playing against..."

"La Lourie."

"Right. Her. So, what are you doing in New York?" What are you doing here.

Tashi doesn't move from the door, arms crossed as her fingers pick at a loose string of her zip-up hoodie. She doesn't answer for a bit, eyes moving down to a spot on the floor. "I pulled out."

Your breath halts, looking up at her when her words pierce you like an arrow. You don't say anything, because really, you can't. What is there to say?

She finally steps in, leaning against the wall next to the door. An easy way out, and escape hatch. Tashi swallows thickly as the thread on the hoodie is pulled more and more. "I couldn't, uh," she blinks hard, shaking her head, "I couldn't go back out there. Not after that."

What an un-Tashi-like thing to say. She could've been in your place right now and she'd still get up and hobble to the courts, demanding someone play her. Yet, somehow, you ruined it for her. At least for now. She was meant to hate you.

"Your blood is... like, they cleaned it, but I swear I can still see it there. I had to leave."

"It's the French Open, Tashi--"

"And I'll win it next year. But, fuck, I can't play it now." she shakes her head with finality. "I tried, I went on the practice court but I could only picture you on the floor like that, crying and bloody and calling for your dad--"

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to her. "What?"

The medical team rush from their tent onto the court, surrounding you almost the minute you crash and fall. You can't hear the scared murmurs of the croud, or the shaking breath of your opponent, or your own sobs. Just the blood rushing to your ears and out your knee.

Everyone saw how you clung to your leg, rocking back and forth on the clay. There's someone asking if you can move, someone calling for a stretcher. You just rock and cry.

"D-daddy," you whimper, eyes on the clear blue sky and swirling clouds as your vision blurs and doubles. "Dad, daddy where are you? I want my dad, I need my dad,"

The pain got so bad you stopped feeling it.

Those in the crowd who knew about your dad gasped. Amber stood frozen, watching, not knowing what the hell there was to do. Tashi couldn't feel her legs and her stomach turned. She ran off the court into the player's tunnel, spilling out into the first trashcan she could find. When they finally got you onto the stretcher and off the court, you'd passed out.

Naturally, it was all over the news. Players get injured all the time, but it wasn't often that players like you crashed and burned so brutally. News sites discussed and speculated in detail about the match, everything before, and everything after. TMZ reached out to Amber, who declined to give them any information, and even Tashi got called by a few publishers.

Amber came to your room an hour after Tashi left, rushing to your bedside as bombarding you with questions.

"Oh, fuck," She mumbled, looking over at the mess you were in. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't-- couldn't come sooner. I- I don't," words failed her. Sure, Amber was hard on you, and maybe she considered leaving your career in the hands of someone more emotionally capable very often, but she did care for you. Like a sick, twisted mother-daughter relationship despite the fact she was only a couple years older.

You could tell how hard she tried to not look at your leg, to keep her eyes focused on your top half. You could almost hear the anxiety going on inside that head of hers. The job insecurity must be wild. Where'd she get her check now?

Patrick was next. He almost threw up from a mix of the jet lag and seeing you. "Jesus fuck, Y/N."

He couldn't walk all the way in at first, staying by the door like Tashi had earlier. It was so much. "I got on a plane the second I could. God, this is sick."

It took him a while to come in and not feel faint, sitting by your bedside and not letting his eyes zero in on The Knee. Patrick wasn't a religious man, not by far, but he felt like praying for you.

Your mother was last. Nothing much to note there, it was a silent visit only interrupted by a call she 'had to take'. She didn't return. Seline sent a card which now lies facedown and unopened on the bedside table.

A hand on her shoulder startles Tashi from her vacant staring at her knee, a soft "We're here, Tash." from the driver's seat telling her they're home. It's been a week, now, since your fall. Looking up at the passenger's seat mirror, Tashi can see soft circles darkening under bloodshot eyes, a testament to the night terrors she's been greeted with every time she closes her eyes.

She was meant to move out ages ago from her childhood home but never quite got there. Art said it was because she was secretly sentimental, but Tashi just assumed it was cause her bed only felt right in that room. Nothing felt right, now.

Tashi helps her mother carry in the groceries, Nat and Renee bickering at the table about one thing or the other instead of helping. The older sister doesn't really hear, the words just pass through her as one bag, then another is set on the counters. She's asked to pick a side, the answer is a dismissive hand wave, their mother tells the twins to leave Tashi to breathe.

They've been tiptoeing around her all week but she's too zoned out to bother to tell them to stop. The truth is, Tashi doesn't feel like Tashi. She feels replaced, swapped out. A part of her kicks and screams at her for withdrawing from the Open, and everyone around her can tell.

Every time she sees her knees, she thinks about how it could've been her on the ground screaming, crying out for her mom or dad. Tennis was her fucking lifeline, thinking of it being ripped away like that in a blink of an eye... something in her head throbs and Tashi flops back onto her bed, staring at her blank ceiling.

She feels like she's swimming through life in a pool of shock. Nothing sounds full, everything feels slightly blurry against her skin. Art keeps calling and texting, asking if she's alright, if he should come over. She dismisses him every time. Her mother knows she needs her space to process everything, but now it feels like everything is giving her space. Too much space. She's suffocating.

Tashi forgot to ask for your number. She really wants to talk to you, despite it all. God, she can't even remember why she decided she hated you. Was there a reason at all? Did she hate you cause she felt like she had to, because everyone else did? It was like with Britney or Amy, watching them go through shit and instead of sympathizing, criticizing. Is that what Tashi was doing? Wasn't she better than that? Losing to you hurt, that was for sure, and she didn't exactly respect the DUI, but everything else... why did it matter so much to her?

All the shit-talking, all the tabloids about you she read, all the gossip she'd listen to intently from other players. It made her sick to think about, because now, and only now, she saw you as the person you were. It only took you losing it all for her to see.

Didn't her mother raise her better than that?

She grabs a pillow, pulling it over her face to block out the world. Downstairs she can hear the argument between Nat and Renee heat up, her father in the next room on a work call, her mother making fresh juice in the kitchen. The neighbor's dog, Lucky, is barking outside. Someone's starting a car. Art's new text buzzes her phone.

Tashi thinks about how the whole world moves on while you're stuck in that bed, and how it could have been her.

first prev

[greenfiend]

These Songs Hold Major Clues

Connected to Mike’s love for Will…

We are told within this scene the importance of songs that hold a personal meaning, thus we can assume those particular songs do just that.

Remember, every detail within this show is intentional and important!

It’s also important to note that this is all from the episode Dear Billy. The same episode where Mike declares to Will that he felt as though he had lost him. Plus we are first introduced to the song Letter to Willy within this episode, further connecting Will with other plots that don’t involve him (on the surface) through subtext.

So let’s take a look at these songs, shall we?

All these songs have very similar themes. They’re all love songs. One lover separated by the other, dreaming about being reunited. The one singing is longing for the other.

“I stand at your gate”, automatically my thought went to the obvious gates between the real world and the UD. But, let me remind you of another time Mike stood at Will’s gate…

At the airport. The gate at the airport. Notice the little “snack” behind Will in this shot? Well…

Obviously it’s alluding to the “snack-size gate”. Aka “watergate” found at the bottom of Lovers’ Lake! This is another clue connecting Mike and Will with Lovers’ Lake.

The mentions of the sea are interesting here, especially because they are often connected with water (the quarry, Lovers’ Lake, the ocean imagery etc). Again, the singer is missing their lover… hoping for a safe return home. AND the singer described themselves as “blue”.

“Someone took you right out of my arms”! That’s pretty self-explanatory. Will was taken from Mike. He’s describing his lover as a “light” as well here. And once again, the mention of dreams.

This one isn’t explicitly about separated lovers, but it is still very relevant. More mention of dreams! The mention of sunshine following rain. And of course…

“Castles may tumble”. Absolutely no coincidence. An obvious nod towards Castle Byers which did “tumble”…

So umm… yeah. These are carefully chosen songs!

Dreams, separated lovers, light/darkness… are all reoccurring themes here.

The dreams aspect is interesting. What could it mean exactly?

Well… according to The Montauk Project: Experiments in Time (huge inspiration for ST):

“The parallel universes might reach our consciousness through dreams, ESP, meditation or artificially induced mental states.”

So it could be suggesting that Mike was/will be reaching out to Will from another universe through dreams… 🤔

ANYWAY, as always, I’d love to know your thoughts on this. Kind of blew my mind when I looked into these songs.

[starrywyatt]

chapter 1: at least i don't post myself shitting on the internet

☆ never saw it comin'- a george clarkey story ☆

! THIS STORY READS BEST IN DARK MODE !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

madison's pov:

two years ago, i graduated from performing arts university with a first in musical theatre and a masters in songwriting. the day i graduated, i shared the song i wrote for my final project to tiktok. somehow, i woke up to 10 million views and calls from major record labels wanting to sign me. fast forward two years and my debut album has just gone #1 the same day it was released.

my label were pushing me to do press, so i decided to go on one of my good friends, andrew's boyfriend's podcast. i was going on the useless hotline! i was so excited.

btw, george is ill so i'm just gonna join max as a co-host for the episode

so don't be nervous!

omg amazing okay

i feel better knowing you'll be there

i had never met george before, so i felt more comfortable talking about the album knowing andrew would be there as it was so personal to me.

"hey!" andrew pulls me in for a hug outside the front of the building where they film. "so happy to see you again!" i reciprocate the hug. i follow him upstairs and we make it to the studio. the past year has been so busy i definitely haven't made as much of an effort to spend time with andrew as i should have. i walk in and am greeted by a very excited max. i have met max a handful of times but he's always been so supportive of my music and is essentially my biggest fan. "the album has been ON REPEAT!" he says excitedly. i say hello to their producer, callum too and he briefs us on what we should talk about and then the cameras start rolling.

"i'm max balegde" max starts "and i'm george clarke" andrew says, sat in george's seat making me laugh. they then introduce me and i walk on to the set and andrew moves seats. "i don't think anyone would even notice george isn't here" max shrugs. "and today we are joined by arguably my favourite musician to ever exist, madison scott!" max cheers and claps and i laugh nervously. "even above little mix?" i question. "well... you're toeing a thin line" he adds. 

we continue the intro for a while and max explains where george is and what he's been up to himself this week. "i wonder if anyone knows that me and andrew went to university together" i say. "yeah i wonder" andrew replies. "we literally lived together for 2 years" i laugh. "i know that's crazy to me. like when andrew mentioned he knew you i was in shock. what do you mean my andrew is friends with THE madison scott!" max says.

"anyways, we HAVE to talk about the album" max continues. "he has literally had it on repeat since midnight yesterday" andrew laughs. "it's just so good" max says. "thank you, that's so kind. yeah i mean it's called 'never saw it comin' i think that covers a lot of aspects of my life. like we literally left uni, i uploaded the song that i wrote for my dissertation to tiktok and suddenly it had 10 million views. and then my boyfriend dumped me, didn't see that one coming for sure" i say and andrew interrupts me, "hate to say it, but thank god because he was an asshole" "yeah you're not wrong, there is a few songs about him on this album but a lot of it is just about the growing pains of kind of growing up but also throwing the spanner of so called fame into the mix" i explain. "so i have to ask, will there be a tour?" max says, clapping his hands with excitement. "if so, i WILL be front row!" he adds on the end. "well hopefully! it's all in talks at the moment, i need to pick a support act actually" i say. "i know someone that would be perfect" max explains. "who?" i ask looking at him inquisitively. "i'll tell you after the podcast, i don't want to ruin the surprise for people because i really think it could happen" max explains and we do the rest of the podcast solving dilemmas and me and andrew recapping funny stories from our uni experience.

"great episode guys! thanks for coming, madison" producer callum smiles to me. "so who's this support act you're thinking of?" i turn to max. "arthur hill! he's so good" max says. "oh yeah, that would be so good" andrew agrees. "arthur hill" i say to myself. "i feel like i've heard the name" i say, almost questioning. "we've had him on the podcast" callum says, from behind us. "yeah, he's george's friend" max continues. "ahh okay, i'll have a look and put his name forward to the team. most people we've spoke to are unavailable for the dates we've chosen" i shrug. "we're actually going out to freedom (the club) with arthur and some of george's friends tonight. you should come! celebrate your album and meet arthur" max suggests and i hesitate for a moment but end agreeing. i guess we're going out...

i make it back to my flat and abigail, my best friend and flatmate is sat on the sofa. "we're going out out tonight" i say, dropping my bag on the kitchen counter. "i'm listening" she turns around with a big smile on her face. "andrew and max invited me out with some of their friends. they want me to meet arthur hill, say he could be a good support act?" i say, almost questioning the last part. "plusss, we get to celebrate your album!" abi says, excitedly. "something like that" i laugh. "okay great, do you know what time?" she asks me. "pres at the boys flat at 9" i tell her before getting up to go shower.

as usual, we get ready together in my room. abigail was on her phone, "shall i look at arthur's instagram and see who his friends are" abi says. i roll my eyes, "we'll literally meet them in like an hour" i laugh, now curling my hair. "ooo, he was at a football event earlier today with 3 guys" abigail explains and my social anxiety kicks in and i do kind of want to see who we could be potentially meeting. "chris, another arthur and george" she reads out the instagram tags. "the one in the middle is cute" abigail says. "abigail! you can't be going for my work colleague's friends" i joke. "colleague?" she laughs. "well i could be working with him" i shrug, laughing.

i was finally ready to go and we were heading over to the boy's flat for pres as they lived near the club. i was slightly nervous but we took some cans with us for the tube to give us some liquid confidence. we met andrew and max at the tube station and walked to the boy's flat together.

max calls george and he comes downstairs to meet us and i suddenly question if the boys even know if we're coming. "hello guys, come on up" george says, holding the door open for all of us and i smile thank you. "congrats on the album by the way" he says to me as i walk past him holding the door, catching me completely off guard, i almost look around as if someone else had released an album this week. "oh, thank you" i laugh nervously.

we make it upstairs and there's 3 other boys waiting for us to appear. "no way THE madison scott is in my kitchen!" the boy i recognised to be arthur hill says in a mock accent as we arrive. i laugh, "where?" i say looking behind me, making him laugh also and he walks over and hugs me. "lovely to meet you" he says and i introduce him to abigail. the other two get up to hug us. "hi, i'm arthur, the other one" he laughs and hugs me. "madison, nice to meet you" i say, also laughing. "hi, i'm chris" he hugs me.

"what's everyone drinking?" arthur h asks us all. "we bought some vodka and mixers" i say pointing to abigail's bag. "we all know you're all gonna be drinking beer, lads lads lads" max says making everyone laugh and he was right all 4 boys had cans of beer in their hands.

"so you're all content creators?" i ask the boys, trying to make conversation. "yeah, been doing it for years now" chris says, sipping his drink. "i don't know if you'd have seen them, they're football videos" he laughs. "yeah i don't think i've ever watched a football video to be honest" i laugh. "i think i've seen one of your videos" i say, pointing to arthur tv. "oh wow, really?" he smiles, shocked. " oh yeah, we watched a 90 day fiance recap thing" abigail points to me. "no way" george laughs. "yeah, we love the show!" i laugh and arthur raises his hand for a high five and i hit it. "i just make shit content really" george shrugs. "back yourself" i say to him. "or are you literally shitting in the content?" i ask, making everyone laugh. "yes, that's exactly what i do!" george agrees. "i mean i would like to call myself a singer but i have to create content to promote it" arthur sighs. "yeah felt you on that one" i agree with him. i don't know if he's heard anything about me potentially bringing him on tour yet so i decide not to mention it as i want to see if i get on with him but to be completely honest it was going well so far.

the drinks and conversation were flowing and it was finally time to head to the club. "so we'll get a couple ubers, if that's okay" arthur h says and i agree and book an uber for me, abigail, max and andrew and the boys do it for themselves. they both pull up at the same time and we hop in the cars and make our way to the club.

we get out the cars and make our way inside, thankfully the boys had contacted the club beforehand and we got guest list entry so we could just go straight in. we make our way over to the bar and suddenly there's about 4 people that ask me for photos, i of course take them and thank the people for coming over and george turns to me. "someone's popular" he smirks. "oh shut up, mr guestlist" i joke to him. "we don't like to wait with the peasants" he jokes and my mouth forms an O at his comment but i continue laughing. "the fames got to you" i say and we're interrupted by arthur h, "everyone good with jägerbombs?" he asks and we all agree.

we do the shots and head over to the dance floor. i spent most of the evening dancing with abigail and max and andrew but i could feel myself sobering up so i told everyone i was going to head to the bar. "wait did you say bar?" george says to me. "yeah, i need another drink" i say. "okay i'm coming, i do too" i nod and he follows behinds me.

we make it to the bar and there's a long queue, typical. "what you getting?" george asks me. "not sure, whatever will get me more drunk" i laugh. "probably double vodka coke or something" i shrug. "yeah i'm thinking similar" he says. "so, you listened to my album?" i smirk to george. "hmm, no i heard it's pretty shite" he shrugs. "wow, that's rude" i say, pretending to clutch my chest. "at least i don't post videos of myself shitting on the internet" i continue. "that's not what i do!" he says, laughing. "well you never told me what you actually do" i say but then we're interrupted as george was next to be served. "hi, can i get 2 double vodka cokes?" he says and i just assume he's ordering 2 for himself as he did seem pretty sober. but once he's done, he hands one to me. "what? you didn't have to buy me one!" i say, smiling. "take it as a peace offering for calling your music shite" he says, as i take the cup and i look up and smile at him. "thank you" i say and we walk back to the group. as we walk back, my song, 'good 4 u' starts playing.

"oh noooo" i say, putting my head in my hand knowing everyone is probably looking at me. i decide i need some dutch courage so down the drink that's in my hands and feel the rush go straight to my head. i look up and abigail and max grab one of my hands each and put my arms up in the air. i look up and all the boys are singing along, even george whose been too sober to sing pretty much a single word the whole night. "GOOD FOR YOUUU" we all scream the last words of the chorus and i almost forget it's my own song and just dance and sing along. as the song finishes, i look over to george and lean forward towards him, "thought my music was shite" i joke and he just shrugs, making me shake my head jokingly. we all keep dancing and after two more round of shots, i'm pretty drunk. "to madison for releasing the second best album of the year, following mine" arthur says as we all raise our shots in the air, laughing.

it was currently 1:40am and i assumed everyone would want to stay until the end so after the shots, we head back to the dancefloor. i had noticed abigail and chris had been getting close all night, so i left them to it. "you've seen them two talking all night too right?" i turn to arthur hill and he agrees, "i thought it was just me. i wouldn't worry too much, chris has shit rizz" arthur says, making me laugh.

"we're just going to the smoking area" abigail comes over and says to me, walking off with chris and i raise my eyebrows, she doesn't smoke. "okay" i laugh and she just smiles, definitely drunk but i let her do her thing. "where are they going?" george leans over and asks me. "to the smoking area?" i almost question. "chris doesn't smoke" george laughs. "neither does abigail!" i almost yell. "how the hell has chris managed to speak to a girl?" arthur tv says and everyone laughs. "to be honest, it would be more shocking if it was george!" arthur hill jokes and george just shrugs, unphased by the joke.

we carried on dancing a bit longer, me, andrew and max getting way too into every song. arthur h matched our energy but the other arthur and george watched on and laughed at us. i finally started to get tired and wanted to go home. "are chris and abigail still outside?" i ask the boys and they nod. "i want to leave, can one of you come with me to get them?" i say, not knowing how to approach chris but knowing i can convince abigail to leave. "let's go find the small man" george says and follows behind me to the smoking area.

we make it to the area and it's pretty much empty and they were not there. "chris is probably here, you just can't see him" george says, looking down at the floor. "shush, that's mean" i lightly slap george's shoulder, whilst laughing. "you still laughed" he points at my face. "i don't think they're here. for god sake" i say, sitting on the bench behind me as my legs hurt and all the booths were taken inside. "should we head back inside?" george asks. "my legs hurt, i might just sit for a second. you can go back in" i say. "to be honest, dancing isn't really my thing anyways. i'll sit" he says, sitting next to me. "what do you come to the club for then? pulling girls?" i say. "ahh yes, big ladies man, me. whopping success rate of 0" he says in a mock accent. "no way i believe that. you've definitely pulled at least 2 girls... in your lifetime" i say trying to be generous. "well, who knows" he shrugs and i roll my eyes. there's a gust of wind and it causes shivers across my whole body. "fucking hell, how is it still cold in spring" i say and george turns to me and sees my arms crossed, rubbing to make heat. "do you want my jacket?" george asks. i look up at him, "and you say you've never pulled a girl whilst you're pulling moves like that" i laugh. "it's just called being a good person" he says, taking the jacket off. "are you sure?" i ask "just take it" he says and hands it to me. i put it on and it's definitely oversized but it makes me much warmer than i was minutes ago. "are you not cold?" i ask. "honestly, no i was actually quite warm. i am just naturally a warm person. that's in temperature and looks" he smirks. "i knew the cockiness was in you somewhere" i say. "what does that mean?" he laughs. "well earlier, when you said your videos were shit. i know deep down you don't think that. i reckon you back yourself" i explain. "i mean, yeah i'm slightly confident in myself i guess" he shrugs. "be confident, it's attractive. girls will flock to you" i shrug. "did you just call me attractive?" he turns to face me. "what? no i did not!" i laugh.

"there you two are! abigail and chris came back, let's go!" andrew says, ushering us back to the club. we hug goodbye to the boys and the four of us taxi back to the tube station. we say goodbye to max and andrew and head back to our flat. me and abigail were both pretty much falling asleep on the tube but thankfully make it back to our apartment.

andrew text me to ask if we made it back,

i had never met george before, so i felt more comfortable talking about the album knowing andrew would be there as it was so personal to me.

"hey!" andrew pulls me in for a hug outside the front of the building where they film. "so happy to see you again!" i reciprocate the hug. i follow him upstairs and we make it to the studio. the past year has been so busy i definitely haven't made as much of an effort to spend time with andrew as i should have. i walk in and am greeted by a very excited max. i have met max a handful of times but he's always been so supportive of my music and is essentially my biggest fan. "the album has been ON REPEAT!" he says excitedly. i say hello to their producer, callum too and he briefs us on what we should talk about and then the cameras start rolling.

"i'm max balegde" max starts "and i'm george clarke" andrew says, sat in george's seat making me laugh. they then introduce me and i walk on to the set and andrew moves seats. "i don't think anyone would even notice george isn't here" max shrugs. "and today we are joined by arguably my favourite musician to ever exist, madison scott!" max cheers and claps and i laugh nervously. "even above little mix?" i question. "well... you're toeing a thin line" he adds. 

we continue the intro for a while and max explains where george is and what he's been up to himself this week. "i wonder if anyone knows that me and andrew went to university together" i say. "yeah i wonder" andrew replies. "we literally lived together for 2 years" i laugh. "i know that's crazy to me. like when andrew mentioned he knew you i was in shock. what do you mean my andrew is friends with THE madison scott!" max says.

"anyways, we HAVE to talk about the album" max continues. "he has literally had it on repeat since midnight yesterday" andrew laughs. "it's just so good" max says. "thank you, that's so kind. yeah i mean it's called 'never saw it comin' i think that covers a lot of aspects of my life. like we literally left uni, i uploaded the song that i wrote for my dissertation to tiktok and suddenly it had 10 million views. and then my boyfriend dumped me, didn't see that one coming for sure" i say and andrew interrupts me, "hate to say it, but thank god because he was an asshole" "yeah you're not wrong, there is a few songs about him on this album but a lot of it is just about the growing pains of kind of growing up but also throwing the spanner of so called fame into the mix" i explain. "so i have to ask, will there be a tour?" max says, clapping his hands with excitement. "if so, i WILL be front row!" he adds on the end. "well hopefully! it's all in talks at the moment, i need to pick a support act actually" i say. "i know someone that would be perfect" max explains. "who?" i ask looking at him inquisitively. "i'll tell you after the podcast, i don't want to ruin the surprise for people because i really think it could happen" max explains and we do the rest of the podcast solving dilemmas and me and andrew recapping funny stories from our uni experience.

"great episode guys! thanks for coming, madison" producer callum smiles to me. "so who's this support act you're thinking of?" i turn to max. "arthur hill! he's so good" max says. "oh yeah, that would be so good" andrew agrees. "arthur hill" i say to myself. "i feel like i've heard the name" i say, almost questioning. "we've had him on the podcast" callum says, from behind us. "yeah, he's george's friend" max continues. "ahh okay, i'll have a look and put his name forward to the team. most people we've spoke to are unavailable for the dates we've chosen" i shrug. "we're actually going out to freedom (the club) with arthur and some of george's friends tonight. you should come! celebrate your album and meet arthur" max suggests and i hesitate for a moment but end agreeing. i guess we're going out...

i make it back to my flat and abigail, my best friend and flatmate is sat on the sofa. "we're going out out tonight" i say, dropping my bag on the kitchen counter. "i'm listening" she turns around with a big smile on her face. "andrew and max invited me out with some of their friends. they want me to meet arthur hill, say he could be a good support act?" i say, almost questioning the last part. "plusss, we get to celebrate your album!" abi says, excitedly. "something like that" i laugh. "okay great, do you know what time?" she asks me. "pres at the boys flat at 9" i tell her before getting up to go shower.

as usual, we get ready together in my room. abigail was on her phone, "shall i look at arthur's instagram and see who his friends are" abi says. i roll my eyes, "we'll literally meet them in like an hour" i laugh, now curling my hair. "ooo, he was at a football event earlier today with 3 guys" abigail explains and my social anxiety kicks in and i do kind of want to see who we could be potentially meeting. "chris, another arthur and george" she reads out the instagram tags. "the one in the middle is cute" abigail says. "abigail! you can't be going for my work colleague's friends" i joke. "colleague?" she laughs. "well i could be working with him" i shrug, laughing.

i was finally ready to go and we were heading over to the boy's flat for pres as they lived near the club. i was slightly nervous but we took some cans with us for the tube to give us some liquid confidence. we met andrew and max at the tube station and walked to the boy's flat together.

max calls george and he comes downstairs to meet us and i suddenly question if the boys even know if we're coming. "hello guys, come on up" george says, holding the door open for all of us and i smile thank you. "congrats on the album by the way" he says to me as i walk past him holding the door, catching me completely off guard, i almost look around as if someone else had released an album this week. "oh, thank you" i laugh nervously.

we make it upstairs and there's 3 other boys waiting for us to appear. "no way THE madison scott is in my kitchen!" the boy i recognised to be arthur hill says in a mock accent as we arrive. i laugh, "where?" i say looking behind me, making him laugh also and he walks over and hugs me. "lovely to meet you" he says and i introduce him to abigail. the other two get up to hug us. "hi, i'm arthur, the other one" he laughs and hugs me. "madison, nice to meet you" i say, also laughing. "hi, i'm chris" he hugs me.

"what's everyone drinking?" arthur h asks us all. "we bought some vodka and mixers" i say pointing to abigail's bag. "we all know you're all gonna be drinking beer, lads lads lads" max says making everyone laugh and he was right all 4 boys had cans of beer in their hands.

"so you're all content creators?" i ask the boys, trying to make conversation. "yeah, been doing it for years now" chris says, sipping his drink. "i don't know if you'd have seen them, they're football videos" he laughs. "yeah i don't think i've ever watched a football video to be honest" i laugh. "i think i've seen one of your videos" i say, pointing to arthur tv. "oh wow, really?" he smiles, shocked. " oh yeah, we watched a 90 day fiance recap thing" abigail points to me. "no way" george laughs. "yeah, we love the show!" i laugh and arthur raises his hand for a high five and i hit it. "i just make shit content really" george shrugs. "back yourself" i say to him. "or are you literally shitting in the content?" i ask, making everyone laugh. "yes, that's exactly what i do!" george agrees. "i mean i would like to call myself a singer but i have to create content to promote it" arthur sighs. "yeah felt you on that one" i agree with him. i don't know if he's heard anything about me potentially bringing him on tour yet so i decide not to mention it as i want to see if i get on with him but to be completely honest it was going well so far.

the drinks and conversation were flowing and it was finally time to head to the club. "so we'll get a couple ubers, if that's okay" arthur h says and i agree and book an uber for me, abigail, max and andrew and the boys do it for themselves. they both pull up at the same time and we hop in the cars and make our way to the club.

we get out the cars and make our way inside, thankfully the boys had contacted the club beforehand and we got guest list entry so we could just go straight in. we make our way over to the bar and suddenly there's about 4 people that ask me for photos, i of course take them and thank the people for coming over and george turns to me. "someone's popular" he smirks. "oh shut up, mr guestlist" i joke to him. "we don't like to wait with the peasants" he jokes and my mouth forms an O at his comment but i continue laughing. "the fames got to you" i say and we're interrupted by arthur h, "everyone good with jägerbombs?" he asks and we all agree.

we do the shots and head over to the dance floor. i spent most of the evening dancing with abigail and max and andrew but i could feel myself sobering up so i told everyone i was going to head to the bar. "wait did you say bar?" george says to me. "yeah, i need another drink" i say. "okay i'm coming, i do too" i nod and he follows behinds me.

we make it to the bar and there's a long queue, typical. "what you getting?" george asks me. "not sure, whatever will get me more drunk" i laugh. "probably double vodka coke or something" i shrug. "yeah i'm thinking similar" he says. "so, you listened to my album?" i smirk to george. "hmm, no i heard it's pretty shite" he shrugs. "wow, that's rude" i say, pretending to clutch my chest. "at least i don't post videos of myself shitting on the internet" i continue. "that's not what i do!" he says, laughing. "well you never told me what you actually do" i say but then we're interrupted as george was next to be served. "hi, can i get 2 double vodka cokes?" he says and i just assume he's ordering 2 for himself as he did seem pretty sober. but once he's done, he hands one to me. "what? you didn't have to buy me one!" i say, smiling. "take it as a peace offering for calling your music shite" he says, as i take the cup and i look up and smile at him. "thank you" i say and we walk back to the group. as we walk back, my song, 'good 4 u' starts playing.

"oh noooo" i say, putting my head in my hand knowing everyone is probably looking at me. i decide i need some dutch courage so down the drink that's in my hands and feel the rush go straight to my head. i look up and abigail and max grab one of my hands each and put my arms up in the air. i look up and all the boys are singing along, even george whose been too sober to sing pretty much a single word the whole night. "GOOD FOR YOUUU" we all scream the last words of the chorus and i almost forget it's my own song and just dance and sing along. as the song finishes, i look over to george and lean forward towards him, "thought my music was shite" i joke and he just shrugs, making me shake my head jokingly. we all keep dancing and after two more round of shots, i'm pretty drunk. "to madison for releasing the second best album of the year, following mine" arthur says as we all raise our shots in the air, laughing.

it was currently 1:40am and i assumed everyone would want to stay until the end so after the shots, we head back to the dancefloor. i had noticed abigail and chris had been getting close all night, so i left them to it. "you've seen them two talking all night too right?" i turn to arthur hill and he agrees, "i thought it was just me. i wouldn't worry too much, chris has shit rizz" arthur says, making me laugh.

"we're just going to the smoking area" abigail comes over and says to me, walking off with chris and i raise my eyebrows, she doesn't smoke. "okay" i laugh and she just smiles, definitely drunk but i let her do her thing. "where are they going?" george leans over and asks me. "to the smoking area?" i almost question. "chris doesn't smoke" george laughs. "neither does abigail!" i almost yell. "how the hell has chris managed to speak to a girl?" arthur tv says and everyone laughs. "to be honest, it would be more shocking if it was george!" arthur hill jokes and george just shrugs, unphased by the joke.

we carried on dancing a bit longer, me, andrew and max getting way too into every song. arthur h matched our energy but the other arthur and george watched on and laughed at us. i finally started to get tired and wanted to go home. "are chris and abigail still outside?" i ask the boys and they nod. "i want to leave, can one of you come with me to get them?" i say, not knowing how to approach chris but knowing i can convince abigail to leave. "let's go find the small man" george says and follows behind me to the smoking area.

we make it to the area and it's pretty much empty and they were not there. "chris is probably here, you just can't see him" george says, looking down at the floor. "shush, that's mean" i lightly slap george's shoulder, whilst laughing. "you still laughed" he points at my face. "i don't think they're here. for god sake" i say, sitting on the bench behind me as my legs hurt and all the booths were taken inside. "should we head back inside?" george asks. "my legs hurt, i might just sit for a second. you can go back in" i say. "to be honest, dancing isn't really my thing anyways. i'll sit" he says, sitting next to me. "what do you come to the club for then? pulling girls?" i say. "ahh yes, big ladies man, me. whopping success rate of 0" he says in a mock accent. "no way i believe that. you've definitely pulled at least 2 girls... in your lifetime" i say trying to be generous. "well, who knows" he shrugs and i roll my eyes. there's a gust of wind and it causes shivers across my whole body. "fucking hell, how is it still cold in spring" i say and george turns to me and sees my arms crossed, rubbing to make heat. "do you want my jacket?" george asks. i look up at him, "and you say you've never pulled a girl whilst you're pulling moves like that" i laugh. "it's just called being a good person" he says, taking the jacket off. "are you sure?" i ask "just take it" he says and hands it to me. i put it on and it's definitely oversized but it makes me much warmer than i was minutes ago. "are you not cold?" i ask. "honestly, no i was actually quite warm. i am just naturally a warm person. that's in temperature and looks" he smirks. "i knew the cockiness was in you somewhere" i say. "what does that mean?" he laughs. "well earlier, when you said your videos were shit. i know deep down you don't think that. i reckon you back yourself" i explain. "i mean, yeah i'm slightly confident in myself i guess" he shrugs. "be confident, it's attractive. girls will flock to you" i shrug. "did you just call me attractive?" he turns to face me. "what? no i did not!" i laugh.

"there you two are! abigail and chris came back, let's go!" andrew says, ushering us back to the club. we hug goodbye to the boys and the four of us taxi back to the tube station. we say goodbye to max and andrew and head back to our flat. me and abigail were both pretty much falling asleep on the tube but thankfully make it back to our apartment.

andrew text me to ask if we made it back,

did you guys make it back okay? x

almost fell asleep on the tube but made it back, all good x

thank you for tonight, we had so much fun!

no worries, i'm so glad you came we need to do it more often!

1000%

i turn my phone off, put a glass of water next to abi's bed as she was a lot more drunk than me and decide to make a quick instagram post before heading to sleep.

i head to bed and wake up the next day and the comments are going crazy about me and george...

[midnight1nk]

Working up the bravery to not use anon to ramble... Heh..

But I recently watched an episode again!! One living in my head RENT FREE. " SMG4 goes insane " is the episode in question where.. Well.. You know, smg4 goes insane. And it's kind of funny to me that there was an eye there!!! And it's kinda funny to me how in IGBP there's eyes in the goop.

Images, for context. First one is SMG4 goes insane, the others are from IGBP.

This may be a stretch, of course, but I find it odd how the times (that I know of) that smg4 DID go insane over something, there was an eye imagery and/or something of the sort involved in there somewhere, as well as, usually with some form of self doubt. Hear me out.

^ From SMG4 goes insane

^ From It's Gotta Be Perfect

Edit from reading this over :: I forgot one, but another board said something along the lines of " It's not enough ". You can see it in the first image, but there was a close up that I wanted to get.

.. Look at that guys!!!! Look!!! I genuinely can't explain it but just. Ough.

I will note, he went insane over different things, but in the end the eye/s and thinking he "wasn't/isn't enough" was there. Especially in the eyes of us, the viewers!! And I can't help but assume IGBP and SMG4 goes insane are not the ONLY instances of this happening to Four.

I also felt these were important, but just don't know where to put them yet in my ramblings.

I hope this makes sense, cause here's where sharing this to YOU comes in!!!!! Insert smg4 pointing at viewer from wotfi 2023 trailer gif here

I LOVE YOUR THEORIES. SO I'M WONDERING YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS.. Heh. I could be absolutely insane and wrong on this or it could be a new gem, I'm not really sure. But gosh I wanna share this to as many people as I can and you're one of the people I'm gonna share this to!!! Yay!!!!!!

Uhhh and another thing to make this worth it, in case all that I rambled on about is total NONSENSE!! Bake no Hana, by Nakiso (I think that's the artists name). It's not in English, but I think the majority of English covers work quite well. It's so IGBP coded, trust me, trust me. Heh.

Anyways.. Uhm.. I hope this ramble makes sense, and you like the song. First time doing this, so HEH!!! Enjooooooyy!!!

Theories and ramblings are encouraged in this household, so welcome to the pillow fort!

The "SMG4 Goes Insane" episode is SO fascinating that I personally nicknamed it as "proto-IGBP". The thing is 4 always had self-doubt and the mentality that he's merely worth only for what he can give/offer. Either by making people laugh or giving support to his friends, others' happiness truly matters to him. If he can't do it, then "he's not good enough". "What kind of friend is he if he couldn't do this?"

Most of the time, it was just brief moments, a line or two. It usually gets pushed aside for the next scene or to return to the plot. But in this episode, we get to be in 4's mind, his thoughts. Got to see the deepest part, where he's afraid that he isn't good enough for his audience and friends. And as you pointed out, the eye imagery.

I have emphasized how significant these eyes are in the goop!4 theory so I'll give my two cents (read: insane rambling)

The eyes in general are a representative of how 4 thinks others perceive him, including himself.

As mentioned so many times before (yall must be tired of me at this point), the black goo is a physical manifestation of 4's perfectionism, based on the deep side of his mind in "4 Goes Insane". Again, he always had the mindset but pushed it aside bc of priorities. But this time, he can't ignore it. It could have expanded to the negative thoughts plastered on the paintings/walls in IGBP, admittedly the only connection being them in black and white and as literally the same thoughts from "4 Goes Insane" so uh. take that as you will, I'm just a theorist.

Now, talking about physical manifestations and stuff, it is expected for this floating eye from "4 Goes Insane" to possibly be in the black goo, bc y'know me: I did say that each eye in the goo has a different meaning (the Horus eye my beloved, haha). It's not, no. But y'know what could? It's more fitting to be part of the red monster (and yes they're two separate parasites, trust), from its realistic appearance and red glow.

Colors are SO important here. As said before, the magenta represents his perfectionism and cyan/light blue represents his true silly self. So sure, the eye is red, part of the red monster. But y'know what is pink/magenta? His friends (YES! your last two screenshots were important ^^). Both sides of him, his perfectionism and true self, have conflicts stemming from loneliness. 4 would do anything to not lose his friends, and his perfectionism is pushing him whatever the cost, reminding him of what could happen if he failed. The chance of his friends leaving him. (also his friends he imagined in his mind have their eyes red *wink*)

What resolved both situations was the people closest to him reminding him that he is enough, Mario caring for him as his long-time best friend and 3 showing empathy from personal experience. All 4 needed was love. And hey, back to "4 Goes Insane", 4 fought against his self-doubt with a "strangely" blue-colored (*ahem*) light, bringing the memes and friends back to normal. His inner self launched the floating eye into the air and it exploded. (4 kinda glowing magenta for a moment there) Huh 🤔 why does that sound familiar... *flashback to 4 swinging at Puzzles' head with Mallet Luigi* ah right. anyway.

To bring in what Matpat once said, anyone can be a theorist if they're truly passionate about the topic. You brought some great evidence here, it fits perfectly with the theory we have, and I'm honored that you'd like to hear my thoughts on this! And you got a song? HELL YEAH!! I'll leave it here for the rest (with ENG captions ofc):

You're SO right, it is IGBP-coded. The eye/vision imagery once again AAAAAA, really good stuff right here! I'm gonna go ahead and put this in my goop!4 playlist :D very glad you shared this with the rest of us, and I totally welcome the other goop!4 theorists to hop into the conversation!!

thanks for the ask!

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

[daemyra-fire]

THOUGHTS E9 S6

Well, as the days passed and after my cinematic trauma of the week, I think I can now properly talk about episode 9 of season 6 So...

1. Starting with Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift—beautiful. I loved it. I think the song fits the show perfectly.

2. I think Lawrence stole the episode, by far. The scene with Charlotte, when he’s saying goodbye to Charlotte, I knew he was going to die. The way he said it, the nostalgia… it was beautiful.

3. Wharton. I don’t know. I felt like all season he seemed like a terrible commander—just terrifying to look at. But in the end, he didn’t really do much, right? Maybe it was just the actor’s presence, but he didn’t do anything major. He yelled a couple of times and that’s it. I thought he would be much worse. I guess I just projected that image onto him because of what commanders usually are like. And in the end, the only one he was really intense with was Nick.

4. The whole redemption arc they’re trying to give Serena—I don’t like it at all. Because I don’t believe it. I cannot believe June could forgive someone who caused her so much harm. And especially not after she literally just married a commander the night before. Like, that was not a long time ago. In the first episode of the season, we see that she has no remorse whatsoever. And now, suddenly, she’s being forgiven and welcomed in? No. She was a rapist, an abuser, she kidnapped June, mistreated her, tried to steal her daughter—and now we’re supposed to forgive her? Absolutely not.

5. Same with Lydia. Exactly the same. I get that they’re trying to help for once—fine, I understand that. But giving them a redemption arc? After everything they did to those girls? Mutilating them, abusing them… Lydia literally hit Janine just a few episodes ago because she got mad. And now we're supposed to save her because she helped one time? No way. I do not agree at all that either of them deserves redemption.

6. During the execution scene, June is incredible. The way she speaks, her expressions—it’s just insane. I loved it, I really did.

7. Rita and Ava stole the revolution. First, Rita has grown so much as a character—amazing—and Ava, wow, what a great addition to the cast. I really liked Ava this season.

8. I can’t believe Luke is still alive. And even more shocking is that he didn’t screw things up during the revolution. It’s wild considering how useless he can be as a character sometimes. I still can’t stand him, but okay.

9. The hospital scene with Rose and Nick—ugh. Rose barely speaks, but when she does, I’m like, girl, please stop. So manipulative, the way she expressed herself—it was awful. You can really tell she’s Wharton’s daughter. She totally took advantage of the situation and basically told Nick to go kill. It was just horrible. And then there’s Nick, saying very little as always. But the actor is amazing because even when he doesn’t say anything, you’re like: what is he thinking? Normally, we can tell by his face if he’s convinced or not—but in this scene, I couldn’t tell if he saw Rose as naive or if he actually agreed with her, and it didn’t go anywhere either.

10. It’s so crazy to me that June, after being hanged from like 9 meters high and falling, has not a single scratch, no pain, nothing. Five minutes later she’s walking around like: “Okay, what’s next?” I mean, I get the adrenaline thing, but seriously? What the heck?

11. Mark Tuello entering Lawrence’s house and seeing Serena—wow, the chemistry between those actors! The show never really explored it, but that whole scene felt like: What’s going on here? What did I miss? Just wanted to comment on that.

12. The scene with Serena and June in the church. Again—I hate that they’re trying to turn them into friends. June does not have to forgive Serena. Not after everything. She doesn’t need to have any kind of relationship with her, other than necessity. But the show’s pushing this fate-bound connection idea way too hard. No. It was an abusive, violent relationship, over and over again. And Serena, just that very morning, had forgiven Wharton! What is this writing?

13. Then they ask Lawrence to carry the bomb. And I’m just thinking—really? There’s no other way? You have to send Lawrence? Couldn’t a special team go plant it and get out? I get that only commanders can enter the hangar, but then we see the hangar is empty—no guards, no nothing. And June offers to drive him there? June is the most wanted woman in Gilead. They just tried to hang her! And they’re sending her off with Lawrence, no guards, no backup?

14. When they get to the hangar and Lawrence is walking toward the plane, you could clearly see someone crouched near the car. It wasn’t subtle. The car was right next to the plane. The commanders could’ve seen June easily—she wasn’t even well hidden. If she were behind the car, maybe, but she was to the side. Anyway, the whole scene of Lawrence deciding to board the plane and sacrifice himself because he knows he did wrong in Gilead—to make up for what he did to Eleanor—was beautiful. It was a perfect ending to his character’s journey. He always had to die for a kind of redemption. I loved his exit from the series.

15. And then comes the problem with the episode: Nick arriving in that car.

Watching Nick get out of that car was the worst feeling. I spent five minutes screaming at the screen: Don’t go there! When he stands on the airplane stairs and just turns his head—June didn’t even have to scream. She didn’t have to say anything. She could’ve just stood up and he would’ve seen her. There was no one else in the hangar. No one would’ve noticed. And then he gets on the plane and they give him these dramatic lines—lines that Nick from episode 6 would never say. Put episode 6 Nick and episode 9 Nick in a room together, and they’re not even remotely the same person.

And I can't believe June let him get on that plane. Forget the romance—this is about gratitude. Gratitude toward someone who’s helped her since season 1. And yes, I get it—he was a commander, he was an Eye. Sure. I understand. But if it had been Tuello in that hangar, or Luke, I would understand if they sacrificed him without thinking about it.. But the one that was there was June,So she decided to send Nick to die.. The person who helped her start a revolution, who saved her more than once? Who helped Moira and Luke this very season? Who gave her those letters (that were ultimately pointless in the plot except to ruin his character) How can she be so ungrateful?

He didn’t have to be her partner. He could’ve been a friend or family. But as a person, she should’ve shown him gratitude. It was one argument, about something she claimed was unforgivable. But in this same episode, she forgave Serena and Lydia. It makes no sense. None. It’s like June and Nick aren’t even the same people anymore.

And then, she just stands there watching the plane explode. Yes, the shot is beautiful. But by then, I was so angry, I felt like I could hate June forever. I hated that decision. They’ve exploited the relationship over and over again—just look at their Instagram and social media posts. They kept using it for emotional bait only to say: “Oh, he was always bad. We were going to kill him anyway.” That makes no sense.

But then, I watched the episode again with my mom—who’s a little more rational—and she said: “Well, no body, no death.” And it’s true—we never actually see him die. And there’s also a time lapse between when we hear the plane powering up and when June sees it in the sky. So, hypothetically, Nick could have gotten out.

But honestly, I have such low expectations for what they’re going to do in episode 10, I don’t even want to hope. And if he is alive, I think it’s super cruel of the writers to do something like this just for reactions—to leave fans suffering for a week and then go: “Oh yeah, of course we wanted them together.” That’s awful.

And if not, things could always get worse. We might see June having tea with Serena, being besties, and becoming the perfect wife Luke always wanted. So now we just wait and see how much more disappointed we can be with the finale.

[thatseventiesbitch]

Hello again! I'm back with another That '70s Show original script. This time we'll be looking at S3xE23 "Backstage Pass"!

This one is extra special because of who it belonged to - one Corey Landis. And it's a table draft, which means there were quite a few changes (some of them significant!). Read on for my summary.

Who's Corey Landis? you may ask. Fair question.

He is the actor who plays a young Red Forman a few different times throughout the series! It's really cool to see the different notes he wrote to himself about how a scene should be staged or acted.

First up, right off the bat the cold open has some different lines.

As you can see, the scene still ends in the same place and most of what the characters say is similar. You can see how they made it slightly shorter in the episode.

I like that Fez is interested in the soybean futures lol, that in the actual episode Eric's line was, "Pork belly prices. How cute is that?" instead, and that LP might've improvised her bit about forgetting to turn off the microphone (or it was added by a writer/producer in a later version of the script).

Eric and Donna's next scene is virtually the same, except for one major difference...

... the band they went to see was originally going to be Aerosmith! In the actual episode, they went to see Ted Nugent. There must have been some kind of licensing issue with being able to use Aerosmith. It's a significant difference, though, because this episode would've continued the characterization that Donna has a crush on Steven Tyler.

There's also this funny, cut moment at the end of Eric and Donna's scene at the radio station:

Now onto the parents.

Some more Bob and Midge lore:

Red and Kitty's interaction is nearly word for word, but check out the actor's notes from the table read!! Pretty cool.

The next scene sees the gang waiting for the Aerosmith Ted Nugent concert to begin. And again it's similar, though not identical, to the scene that aired - Jackie and Kelso discuss their week of romance, Eric and Donna are eager for the concert to begin, and Fez and Hyde reveal their misspelled concert merch.

I was robbed of another Eric & Donna kiss (and a hug!), though 😡 + Eric calling her his "best girl". 🥹

Next we're back to the parents.

Red is still trying to remember how he and Kitty really met, and Kitty is becoming increasingly upset. In the episode she told him her version of events at this point, but in the script it is dragged out a little longer.

The Packer refrigerator magent line made me chuckle, ngl.

Back at the concert. This scene is again nearly identical to what really aired, but I enjoyed Kelso's Aerosmith versions of the songs he changed for Jackie. 😂

Then we check in on Fez and Hyde, who are struggling to sell their misprinted t-shirts just like in the episode.

Donna's scene backstage is word for word, except she's interviewing Steven Tyler instead of Ted Nugent.

In the next scene, Fez and Hyde get arrested. The scene is practically the same, except we get a little more insight into how upset Eric is with Donna. "Tonight was supposed to be about us," 😫. And I like Fez's Cheryl Tiegs line from the actual episode better.

Then the script cuts back to Red and Kitty. It's basically the same scene from the actual episode, but with a few added details. Horseface Lynn Taylor is mentioned again 🤣

Then Eric's scene with the janitor (Stanley!!), and Donna's scene backstage where Ted/Steven offers to let her touch the guitar are word for word.

Kelso and Jackie's storyline and lines are mostly unchanged throughout, but this added line from Eric at the end of their final scene made me 😂🤣

Then we're back to Red and Kitty to conclude their storyline for the episode. The scene starts out the exact same, but ends with slightly different lines.

I just love getting to see the actor's notes!

And finally, the biggest difference of all: in the script, Eric and Donna's final scene takes place in the Forman basement, not outside of the concert venue. I'm glad they changed that, because all I can think is: how did Donna get home that night? Even though he was pissed, Eric really left her there? No no no no no. 😣 I think it's much more in character that he waited.

I do like that in the script Donna at least actually apologized - in the episode, she didn't. It's widely acknowledged within the fandom that this is one of Donna's worst moments on the show, regardless.

As one of the final episodes of season 3, this episode/storyline was integral to setting the stage for Eric and Donna's emerging break-up and it does the job. The original script even more so than the actual episode, in my opinion.

Well, that's all I've got for this one! Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more in the series. I'm your *very* pregnant and uncomfortable host, @thatseventiesbitch 😄.

Other Scripts I've Posted:

S2xE20 "Kiss of Death" S2xE22 "Jackie Moves On" S2xE23 "Holy Crap!" S2xE26 "Moon Over Point Place" S5xE21 "Trampled Under Foot" S6xE20 "Squeezebox" S7xE8 "Angie"

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

I visited the WGA library to read Yellowjackets scripts and wanted to share some of my findings! (Pt. 3)

Here are my notes for 1x04! Quotation marks indicate direct lines from the script, whereas everything else is me paraphrasing.

Note: You can find an early version of 1x04 on Script Slug, but this must have been a very early version because many things are different. The notes I have here are not on that version of the script, rather they are on the final version of the script that ended up being used for the episode, so there will just be some new details and deleted scenes but no major plot differences between the script here and what we saw in the episode.

1x04 “Bear Down”

A lot of this is going to be about Nat because this is kind of her episode!

•During Nat’s plane crash nightmare in the opening scene, the script says that Adult Nat briefly appears in the seat next to her father before being replaced by Teen Nat again. I thought this was interesting, I wonder what the writers are trying to say by having a flash of Adult Nat here, does it contribute to the whole “We’ve been here for years” line when Nat dies? A representation of how Nat is essentially stuck in this place even 25 years later?

But also, the dream is Teen Nat’s dream, not Adult Nat’s, so is this would mean the dream is prophetic in a sense because Nat is seeing her future self for a moment. Maybe that’s why they cut it out? Or was it just because Juliette wasn’t available for such a small scene?

•Also in the dream sequence, the rifle Nat sees on her lap is noted by the script to be the same one she eventually uses to hunt in the wilderness. Another prophetic piece to Nat’s dream.

All of that combined with Nat’s dad’s line of “It’s been waiting for us” shows that, even though Nat is the biggest skeptic in the wilderness, she is one of the first people the wilderness speaks to and gives prophetic visions to.

•Nat is said to be 14 years-old when her father dies. The script says she and Kevyn are 14 in that scene and the year is specified as 1993. I have always wondered how old she was supposed to be in that scene!

(But it’s worth noting that they might have aged her up a year in the final product because, in the script, the cassette she pops into her boom box when her and Kevyn enter her room is the album Where You Been by Dinosaur Jr., which came out in 1993. However, in the actual episode, Nat puts in the song “Feel the Pain” by Dinosaur Jr. instead, which came out in 1994. So this scene might actually be in 1994 in the final product despite what the script says.)

•Teen Kevyn Tan is absolutely hopelessly in love with Nat in the flashback scene. He’s described as “clearly nervous to be in the bedroom of his crush” and starts coloring his nails with Sharpie just to distract himself from his anxiety.

Then Nat pats the bed for him to sit next to her and Kevyn is “thrumming with hormones and anxiety.” When Nat takes Kevyn’s hand to start painting his nails, we get this description:

“For Kevyn, her gentle touch, her careful attention…he’s in heaven. And simultaneously deep inside the hell of his own desire. Should he kiss her? Would she hate that?”

Nat is described as “oblivious” to Kevyn’s feelings in this moment.

I think these descriptions help us understand how much Kevyn idealizes Natalie in his head. He has this unrealistic, romanticized view of her even 25 years later when they meet again as adults. He likes the idea of her, but when he actually sees her trauma (and sees her as an actual person) he distances himself.

•There are some…interesting descriptions of Shauna and Adam getting freaky in the script. This girl is scratching him hard enough to draw blood, choking him, putting her fingers in his mouth, etc. This shows how Shauna is using Adam to relive the adrenaline she felt in the wilderness.

•When Travis points the gun at Nat, the rest of the girls scatter and run away in fear, but Nat stays perfectly still, staring him down.

•While Taissa is talking to Diane about her political campaign and Diane asks her what “really happened out there,” Tai hears wolves howling in the distance. Poor Tai is more traumatized by Van’s wolf attack than Van is.

•When Kevyn and Nat meet for dinner as adults, they reminisce about breaking into the chem lab at school and stealing equipment to make bongs. My fun little headcanon is that Nat got caught during this incident and the principal put her on the soccer team to set her on the right path.

•Also in this scene, Kevyn notes that he last saw Nat “twenty-two years ago,” which means he and Nat were in contact for a year or two after the rescue. I’m thinking Nat probably stayed in Wiskayok for a year after they were rescued and just decided to cut all ties at some point and leave town, ghosting everyone she knew there.

There’s this line as well:

“Kevyn: You were my best friend and you just…

You fucking ghosted me.”

•There’s another deleted scene (which they did film and we actually got to briefly see it in the trailer for the episode but they took it out of the final product for some reason!) where Adult Nat is looking in the mirror after her date with Kevyn, having mixed feelings about her grief over Travis and her new feelings for Kevyn, and she sees her Teen self behind her in the mirror imitating her movements. A little trauma regression moment and I’m not sure why it was cut. I’m just salty because I love when Sophie Thatcher and Juliette Lewis are in a room together. But here’s a photo of it:

•There’s an interesting part where Shauna finds Javi’s journal and looks through it. The journal has a bunch of drawings in it (wildlife sketches, comic book characters, etc.) that are described as really good; Javi’s talent as an artist is emphasized by the script.

I think this some subtle proof that the writers initially intended for Adam to be Adult Javi, with the obvious nod to the artist talent and I feel like the scripts for these early episodes highlight the closeness between Javi and Shauna in the wilderness more. The writers did confirm that they originally wanted Javi to be Adam, so I think you can see some details that support that in the scripts.

•Before Nat pulls the trigger on her dad, she feels “years of humiliation and thwarted rage” and she automatically “stiffens” when he steps towards her. Just a reminder of how much this man traumatized her!

•When Shauna butchers the deer for the first time, she is described as feeling a “thrill she’s never felt before.” This goes back to her sexual relationship with Adam in the adult timeline, that adrenaline from her role as the butcher that she misses and is trying to recreate.

•When Shauna returns home from her antics with Adam, Jeff asks, “How was book club?” and Shauna immediately vomits all over the floor🫢

[foggyinphx]

Finally appreciating how perfect a song choice "Staring at the Sun" by TV on the Radio is to end episode 1.

The song starts with the line "'cross the street from your storefront cemetary". Part of Foggy's final conversation in the bar is telling Kirsten why he likes practicing out of the storefront firm that is NM&P. A storefront that ended with the tragic death of Foggy.

What follows is Matt struggling with Daredevil inside him, his primary struggle of the season. "Hear me hailing from inside and realize I'm/I am the conscience clear in pain or ecstasy/we are all weaned my dear upon the same fatigue". He's desperate to ignore the clawing inside him, the one that tells him to save people who are hurting. But giving in to that noble endeavor always brings with it great pain: guilt that he enjoys hurting bad people, extreme bodily injury, and even the deaths of his loved ones.

As the lead sings "We're staring at the sun/we're standing in the sea" it is woven through with a lament "Oh my own voice cannot save me now/ it's just one more breath and then I'll go down". They then sing together "your mouth is open wide the lover is inside". We see Matt in a later episode at the water's edge, contemplating his role as Daredevil with the broken horn. In episode 9 he describes his senses to Karen as being "like a thousand suns". It must be overwhelming, vast, and powerful, traits the sea is also often associated with. His powers must also be a constant source of pain and impossible to ignore. Matt is always on the edge of falling back on his internal promise of no more Daredevil. That part of him is inside trying to get out because it feels like it is drowning.

A little further in to the song there's "Note the trees because the dirt is temporary/more to mine than fact, face, name and monetary". Matt spends the majority of the season living a life he says "feels fake". He's hiding behind the false reality of Successful Lawyer Matthew Murdock. But it can't and doesn't last. The moment he starts letting the devil out, everyone in his new life tell him that he's unrecognizable. What they don't realize is that it was all a temporary facade built out of grief.

"You're staring at the sun, you're standing in the sea/you're mouth is open wide, you're trying hard to breath/there's water at your neck/there's lightning in your teeth" again is woven with "be what you will/and then throw down your life". Matt is trying not to let the light overwhelm him. Daredevil is drowning. What Matt struggles with, has always struggled with, is that they are both him. "Your body's over me". He can't let one side hold down the other. It didn't work in DD season 3. It didn't work in DDBA season 1.