#and they still DESERVE to do all of those things no matter how much of a pretentious little brat they r

[starsintheendlessnight]

The beauty

And pain

Of remember

A person always has one or several memories that they keep with them no matter how time passes. It’s a universal experience that we have all experienced at some point in our lives, it doesn't matter if the memory fades as the days go by bc they are not perfect, in the end they are narratives in construction that in some way marked us as people.

Remember something can be both a beautiful experience and a painful feeling.

Remember helps us to better appreciate things and to understand both our values ​​and past experiences, whether those are moments with family or friends or simply having a good time. They are moments that we adore and keep in our minds with affection but these can also be transformed into a feeling of sadness, a part of us that was taken away from us, a piece of our identity away from us for who knows how long or even forever.

Many times “remember” makes us feel empty bc of what we no longer have and it is because emotional pain doesn't follow a specific script and cannot even be explain only in physiological terms, it’s something more complex and irrational and looking for a specific reason would be like looking for water in the middle of the desert. It hurts us emotionally to have to remember those people who are no longer with us or those happy moments that will never be repeated. Although within that same pain you can find beauty, it is still something irrational and meaningless bc yes, you remember with love and affection but you still feel pain bc of what those people or those moments represented for you and they are simply no longer there.

A memory can appear in many ways, whether it be from a song, a simple word or… Flowers.

Sunflowers are beautiful and radiant flowers that always seem to catch the eye, they are a small reminder that Eurylochus keeps of his home while he resided in Olympus, bright and so cheerful they were the only respite that Eury kept from his already distant home, he took care of them and adore them for the love and nostalgia that they transmitte to him at those moments from which he was separate. Little by little his appreciation turned into pain, a sweet memory of his home transformed into sadness and guilt.

He refused to go back to his flowers, remember his home only made him feel worse about himself. How could he long for something that he did not deserve? The pain stopped being just that and turned into guilt. He did not deserve those flowers, he did not deserve those seconds of escapism and as he did with anything that caused him pain he just turn away and ignored it thinking that everything would be fine if he did not think about it.

As the weeks went by, Eurylochus needed a moment to himself again and he remember his flowers. He wasn't in his best moment and he needed to try to feel again that peace that he felt the first time he saw his sunflowers, but it was too late... His flowers were already dead, he felt distressed bc the only memory of his home was withered before his eyes. He felt pain, but not only because his flowers died. That pain is not going to heal by simply planting others and then as if he hadn't let them die. That pain is about what those flowers represented for him and how he let them go in the face of that pain that made him feel inferior.

Pain is irrational. They may seem like just some flowers, but for Eurylochus they represented much more than that, and it’s in the memory of what he lost that he appreciate and love what gave him calm at the time. His flowers are dead, he let them die but he loves them for the peace of mind they gave him, even though the pain and nostalgia of his far away home is still with him at least he can appreciate it a little more even though he feels sad for remember those good times.

.

.

.

I feel like I'm VERY annoying with the ClosureAU (mostly on Twitter) and I apologize for that again, a new year started and I felt like I needed to do something decent, something meaningful not just a doodle or a funny video. No idea came to mind until I watched some videos of my fav youtubers again and this idea came up. I'm sorry if I'm being so annoying with all the angst I'll try to make not so sad content of the AU I promise. Happy new year to everyone I wish you all the best and thank you for supporting me at all times, I love you all so much 💚

[lostinthewronguniverse]

So, while I understand your reasoning, I do find it flawed. While many people in the US do not like their boss or the police, they do prefer to lick the boots of their bosses and police when told or when things get rough. I am not discounting myself in this

When a homeless person is making someone uncomfortable, by far the majority of people would be more comfortable with calling the cops on them than allow them to sleep by a bus stop or beg in a walkway. White right wing people who don’t trust the police are still happy to call them when black people are hanging around chatting for “too long”. If an autistic teen walks towards your fence to look at a flower, way too many people would call the cops on him. While in reality many people in the US hate cops for one reason or another, the sentiment is still there that we love cops as soon as things get hard, and it is a small portion of people who would actually call out cops like during George Floyd’s death. Most people would have walked by figuring that he probably deserved it because no matter how much we say acab at the end of the day we tend to trust them more than the person whose rights they’re violating

Now, bosses we practically never stand up to because we’re too scared to lose our jobs. We may acknowledge that they’re power hungry and deliberately target a single person and make 2x+ our income for half the work and whatnot, but when we are talking to them, we hardly say anything. If we see someone being targeted, then we might try to cheer them up after but you hardly ever see someone push back against the harassment. In private, we’re even more likely to agree with the boss that they do so much for the company or so-and-so performs poorly. We keep kissing ass in the hopes of a raise or promotion and we get nothing. Then, we go behind the boss’s back and complain about how horrible they are while not doing anything to change it. This is the reason why so often unions are unable to form or people can be singled out because no one wants to receive the boss’s ire and we’re told that we can’t move ahead with others but we can move up on our own. Once again, the sentiment is there that no matter how much we hate our bosses we treat them like we love them

Actions speak louder than words. While you’ve lived in more states than I have, you have only taken people’s words at face value and not looked at their actions. I have a friend who is constantly fighting for social justice that absolutely calls the police every time she sees a a tent in the local park and I had an old coworker who repeatedly talked about how toxic our boss was that also said he was her mentor and inspiration when he got team lunch for her promotion. The people you know who talk the talk and walk the walk are the minority. Regardless of if OP is from the US or not, they understand the people here better than you, a native.

P.S. I do find it funny all the people who pretend like they hold the will of the revolutionaries from 1776. 1) All those people were racists who wanted to steal Native American land and 2) They weren’t afraid to suffer for a bit without something like Starbucks or cheap factory farmed meat and fast fashion. Do you know how hard it would have been to boycott England? And, if you broke the boycott then you could have been killed by a mob as a loyalist instead of just needing to cross a picket line

[kinardsevan]

13, 15, 35. You can either pick one of them or write something with all three! I am a glutton for your writing I will take anything I can get

13 and 15 for you! (this is 1000% your fault, btw)

-

Evan’s hands are trembling as blood runs over them, pressing down hard on his chest. 

“Come on, baby,” he sobs, his fingers practically fisting around the part of the steering column dug into Tommy’s chest. 

Tommy looks up at him, his face too gray for Evan’s liking, the sadness in them hurting more than it did the night they broke up. “I’m s-sorry, Evan.” 

He shakes his head wildly, clenching his jaw as he glares at Tommy with those crystal blue eyes. 

“No, god damn it,” he growls, pressing down harder against the flow. “You don’t get to do this to me again. You don’t get to leave me again. You don’t get to leave me permanently. Fucking fight, Tommy.” 

“D-doing my best,” he stammers, the slightest laugh slipping out of him even though it’s clear that neither of them finds the current situation funny. Around them, their friends are doing their best to work Tommy out of the situation in the safest way possible, but none of them are stupid. They know the situation is dire, and the silence of it all just makes Evan’s throat hurt that much more. It should be loud—too loud; loud means things are happening, movement is happening. Silence means-

Silence isn’t good. 

“I love you,” he sobs, shaking his head as he presses his hands in harder. “Don’t do this to me, okay? I can’t- you can’t- I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. S-so you can’t do this to me.” 

Tommy lifts a shaking hand to Evan’s face, brushes at the tears on his cheek. “You deserve so much better than this.” 

Evan nods, his jaw still tight, his eyes full of righteous anger. “You’re god damn right I do. So live and let me have it.” 

Tommy doesn’t respond, much as Evan may want him to. They both know he doesn’t have that kind of control over the situation. No matter how much Evan yells at him to live, it has far more to do with proximity to a hospital and blood volume than it does his own personal will to survive. 

“I l-..” 

“No,” Evan growls at him. “You don’t get to tell me now.” 

“Evan.” Tommy rasps his name like a secret, and the younger man sobs, leaning into him and pressing his forehead into Tommy’s. 

“You h-have to wait, okay,” he chokes out. “Tell me after, okay? Tell me after.” 

“Baby, I don’t know if there is an after,” Tommy whispers back. 

[yoonia]

— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡

2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025. 

OVERALL FIC STATS 2024

Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets

Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series

Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)

Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…) 

FIRST FIC OF 2024

❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 —  posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes

My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024

❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes

My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol

My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.

LAST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes

My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did! 

Honorable mention: 

❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes

My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.

PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024

❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes

My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.

Honorable mention: 

❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)

My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling. 

2024 SPECIAL EVENT

❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash

My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!) 

Fave reads of 2024

I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed

The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo

Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan

The Athlete by @beomcoups

A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien

Dandelion by @shina913

The Wood by @sailoryooons

Minted by @kithtaehyung

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil

On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon

Top Ten Tracks of 2024

Loved — B.I

People — Agust D

Make You Mine — Black Violet

Gemini — Cheyenne 

Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass

HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope

Love — Lana Del Rey 

Reasons — COTIS 

Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone 

Die First — Nessa Barrett  

GOALS FOR 2025

Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month. 

Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter) 

Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series

Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them

Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream

Read more. Both published books and released fics

Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical 

Start job hunting again

I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae

And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped! 

[tubbytarchia]

apologies if you've already expressed them before, but any thoughts about mounders from secret life? (including joel ofc)

Love them. so dearly. Pearl being surrounded by people who support her and don't treat her like a ticking time bomb who's gonna morph into that DL image of an ostracized witch again any second and be a burden (coughs.) is exactly what she needs. BigB in Limited Life was similarly good to her but aughhh Mounders were really sweet

Arguably the most notable aspect of the Mounders is Pearl's desire for Bdubs to secure a win. She expresses wanting one of them to win and outlive her on multiple occasions, but Bdubs is the one she singles out, not unlike Impulse in WL, except she clinged to Impulse as the one member of her team that didn't make quips and remarks about her being untrustworthy but didn't show any genuine connection or desire for one otherwise (reflected in how she tended to not spend a lot of time with him one-on-one and that of those times the subject matter most often circled back around to him hopefully winning, always framed like a secondary goal for Pearl aside from the one she was trying to achieve with Gem), in the end clinging less to Impulse than she clung to the idea of someone winning as per her wish and help. With the Mounders and especially Bdubs, it was much more based in connection and less so in Pearl seeking direction - something to achieve that she could feel good about. She cared about Bdubs and Bdubs greatly cared about her too (There's this one scene where he goes "Your cloak is turning red, Pearl, careful..." in a very concerned dad way and it makes me feel things), and he did want to win for her sake although he was clearly uncertain and dancing around the idea on at least one occasion. It's genuinely very heartwarming to see him want to do well because Pearl believed in him, helped by the continuously enforced (and not surface-level) trust between them

Which, of course, applies to the rest of the Mounders too. I never and I mean never stop thinking about that scene where Pearl is ready to flee from Joel for his ability to guess her very obvious task, only for him to intentionally guess it incorrectly and Bdubs following suit. Earlier in that session too, Scott told both Joel and Bdubs what pearl's task is so they could guess it, which Joel vaguely brushed off but Bdubs was vocal about not betraying Pearl. Likewise Pearl doesn't snitch on Joel when she clearly knows his task to backseat game her. Mumbo... did try to hurt/kill them for his red tasks so. lol. But he's a sweetie. There were still cute moments where he was looking out for the others even if he became kind of a desperate wet bag on his red life. Mounder for life.

Joel and Bdubs also are very cute just between them two. Bdubs accidentally made Joel succeed Grian's task once and I think he keeps trying to make up for it because later he's just snitching to Joel nonstop about all the intel he has so that Joel could try and guess people's tasks. Except for Etho's of course. Something about Joel digging underground calling Bdubs his favorite snitch as he yaps away above ground. He also praises Joel whilst he's digging as if it's his task to do so. And also at the start of one session, Joel is low on hearts and Bdubs is persuaded to give him his, saying "you deserve it". Then he lies to Etho that Joel was so intimidating and scary and forced him. Then he lies to Impulse that Joel was pathetic and begging for it.??? Something wrong about him. That guy is hashtag not normal about Joel. The way they went out was really saddening (and maddening) to me but it was one final cute moment if even a very bittersweet one when Joel accidentally shot Bdubs, Bdubs tells himself to eat his golden apple, which reminds Joel to eat his right before Bdubs dies, followed by Joel. Scott taunting Joel about killing Bdubs makes me go GRGGGGRAHHHHHHH and of course Scott would do anything to fuck with Joel GGRAAHHHHHHHGGGG sorry. And it makes sense, they were teammates, but still important to me that Joel cares that much to begin with, especially in the context of being within his first stable allyship outside of his soulbind in DL

Joel in general being in a proper alliance was really nice to see. Like idk when I was first watching SL I lowkey expected him to be missing from the question ritual at least once but no <3 he was always there <3 The questions they did for each session in general was so cute. It's so much like, following the text-book example on how to bond, and then they all flee as soon as they get their questions for the first several sessions with very vague confirmation that they can turn to one another as needed. But they did bond!! Even Bdubs with how god awful abnormal he is about Etho, which I already went into depths about but it's so important to me. Genuinely such an awesome dynamic... Also I love that when Joel had to make a cult, he kept just recruiting the Mounders into it even after finishing that task

[valacre]

: ̗̀➛ Tender is the Soul

Starscream x Reader

Are you okay?

That question, asked in such a soft voice, persisted in echoing through his processor, yet no matter how much he tried he couldn’t force it out.

Are you okay?

It was pathetic. He had captured you, clutched you in his servo and squeezed until you’d started screaming in pain, and then he’d dropped you without care to remain trapped in the medical bay where Knockout could – he was forced to – watch over you for the meantime. You’d just been bruised, and you ached, but you’d be just fine, or so Knockout had said.

Are you okay?

His lord and master had been in a particularly bad mood today, accusing him of things both true and false, yet little did it matter on whether he defended himself or not, whether he begged or not. He was punished, brutally beaten in front of those who occupied the room, and yet still he had to beg for mercy, to promise to do better if he’d just be given another chance. Megatron hadn’t wished to listen and had told him that there would be no room for excuses today, but alas, he spared Starscream’s life; for now.

He was leaking energon when he’d returned to the medical bay. The injuries had felt bad. He’d realised they’d been much worse once Knockout took one glance at him and subtly gaped in shock. Starscream didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t want any false concerns thrown his way, any—anything that could trick him into lowering his guard. No Decepticon could be trusted to be his ally, his friend, and so he gritted his denta and allowed the doctor to mend his wounds before he leaked too much and grew critical.

The silence that followed after Knockout left – to give him time to recover – was as blessed as it was cursed because it was only thanks to that silence that your voice could be heard; small and soft as it was.

“Are you okay?”

And so, here he lay, staring dumbly at you as you sat within your glass cage. Your organic optical ridges were furrowed in either concern or wariness – Starscream guessed for the latter – and you were staring at him, or rather, at his wounds.

“What does it matter to you, fleshling?!” He’d snapped back, and you’d flinched and cast your optics away, curling further into a ball as you held your tiny arms around your legs, either for warmth or protection, Starscream couldn’t say, but it felt good to see you afraid of him.

Why would you care for his health? Why would you even ask? He was the one who brought you here. He was the one who’d doomed you to interrogation, torture, and most likely death. You obviously knew that, and yet you asked him if he was all right.

“That just looks like it hurts,” you said, voice so meek he barely heard you. “Does he hit you often? Megatron, I mean.”

Starscream scoffed. Who else could it be but Megatron?

“Of course, it hurts! Why do you care? If you think I’m going to let you go just because you try to ask for my well-being, then you’re wrong, fleshling. You have valuable information regarding the location of the Autobot base,” he said, then he began to think a little further, “but then again, I could give you a quick and painless end if you tell me all that you know right now, and you won’t fall to the same fate as I.”

You looked at him again, fleshy optics glancing him over, clearly thinking his offer through. However, instead of an answer, you chose to ignore his proposal as if he’d never given it to begin with.

“You’ve done awful things… but not even you deserve to be treated this way,” you said, and he was ready to get angry for your lack of cooperation, but your words struck something within him, and he was rendered momentarily speechless.

He wanted to believe that you were lying, doing what you could to save your own skin, but the look in your eyes told the truth. It wasn’t pity, no, but something else, something softer and kinder that made him feel all kinds of strange. He wasn’t used to receiving this kind of attention, and it almost made him uncomfortable.

He groaned and settled down, feeling miserable and angry, but at least his current condition made him somewhat safe from Megatron’s wrath once you were stolen back by the Autobots.

You’d been taken out of your cage, probably to another room for interrogation, and the glance you’d cast his way made his spark pulse uncomfortably. Your optics were so sweet, so tender, and your face – he began to wonder what it would be like to touch those cheeks – was furrowed in worry. For yourself, and him.

You worried for him.

Why would you worry… for him? You gained nothing from it. Your worry hadn’t spared you out of anything, so… why?

… why.

[bluecanvasshoe]

Frankly, Mr. Shankly

platonic!Marauders x gn!Gryffindor!reader

Picture from Lucy Orpwoodd on Pinterest!

Summary: You've been feeling inadequate in everything, really. It seems the people you thought were pushing you away are the only ones who can help calm these thoughts.

Content: reader struggles with feeling 'average' and 'not good enough', everyone is a bit of an ass but they all apologize, hurt/comfort, Wolfstar is so far just pining in this and Remus is a lil salty, mentions of Sirius' family life :(, use of y/n (IM SORRY), teenagers being weird and communicating poorly

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: WOW i didn,t expect to be writing THIS much over the break, but i'm glad i have! i hope you all enjoy this one!! and: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!! MY FIRST FIC OF 2025!

and just to be clear: what’s said in this fic about being average IS NOT the truth. but average is perfectly fine, and what’s been written are anecdotes from the reader’s mind (and mine, hehe). do not take whats said to heart, because you’re amazing no matter what!!!!

title from Frankly, Mr. Shankly by the Smiths!

--

You've always loved your friends, and you knew they loved you equally. If there's one thing about the Marauders, it's that each second spent is a second valued.

Year five was likely the most fun you’ve had in your life. So, why would year six be any different?

Well, this is how.

Your best friends, your partners in crime, your platonic soulmates who complete the Marauders, a group of five rowdy teens, seemed too good for you nowadays.

You were always painfully average in just about everything. It was well known, and for a long time, it really didn’t bother you. It was easy, low maintenance, and no one expected perfection. But since the start of the year, you soon came to find out that this average-ness made it incredibly easy for you to be outshined.

For so many years, people told you that marks or your number of friends were simply figurative objectives or ideas that didn’t carry any real significance. These assurances, however, are only said aloud when there’s nothing to downplay in the first place.

If you’re extraordinarily pretty, people would say you are blessed, and if you’re smart beyond imagination, people would call you gifted.

If you’re none of those things, if you’re not in the middle or either end of the line, you do not receive compliments because hardly anyone sees a point in complimenting the mode. This isn’t to say that some don’t put in a good attempt at digging deeper; but when you seemingly don’t care nor try, no one sees a point in acknowledging something neither person cares for.

These small encouragements were simply a means to an end, a way to appease the unsatisfied.

You didn’t blame anyone for your faults; that’d be silly. No other Gryffindor, no other friend, would intentionally try to put you down. But intentional or not, they still did.

So when James became Head Boy and had actual responsibilities, you felt a little upset. Not angry or sad, but you did miss spending every hour with him and the others. Not to mention the arrogance that he now held. It’d usually be funny, but now it felt like he was too good, too smart for you. You couldn’t live up to the student body’s role model that is James Potter.

After that, Remus became a Gryffindor prefect. You were happy for him, he truly, 100% deserved it. But then he had his own duties too, and you noticed how much more focused and dedicated he was to his role; a good thing, yes, but he tended to drown himself in responsibilities, distracting him from the Marauders. You now felt brushed off when you tried to make conversation with him, as if other things, things that would’ve usually fallen second, came before his friends now.

Sirius had always been a heartthrob, but over the summer, something must’ve changed to make him more appealing to the eyes of your fellow students. More often than not, he’d be away with someone new, or a new person would tag along in your adventures. This person would then begin to think that they were a Marauder, and it made things incredibly frustrating to have someone who often disregarded your presence assert themself into your life.

Finally, Peter was now spending more time with his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw girl you’d never met and he never specified before. You were happy for him, but now he was so distracted with her and trying to impress her via marks that he didn’t have as much time for the Marauders anymore.

But what about you?

Nothing was new in your life; you hadn’t been awarded the title of prefect, or head of anything, or heartthrob, or the love of someone’s life.

At first, you were sad. However, the start of a new school year was always a little bit melancholy, so you chalked it up to post-summer blues.

But when the leaves started falling and you found yourself walking amongst orange and red trees alone, you became angry. Angry at your friends, Marauders or not, angry at teachers who constantly downplayed your achievements, angry at your fellow students, and most of all, angry at yourself.

If you couldn’t live up to be as good as the rest of the Marauders, did you even deserve to be one?

Did you deserve to be at Hogwarts?

You tried studying more often and staying behind in class to ask questions and improve your grades, but nothing worked. Nothing improved. In your mind, you were a lost cause.

–

It was breaktime, and you were hoping you’d get to hangout with the other Marauders. You stood from your seat in potions, slinging your bag over your shoulder and exiting the dingey classroom.

Exiting the room, you ventured to a classroom close by in hopes that Remus would be there.

“Moons,” you called, approaching him.

He looked up from a piece of paper he had in his free hand, noticing you with a smile. “Oh, hello, N/N.”

“Would you want to come with me to find the others?” 

He frowned, gaze sympathetic. “I have a prefect meeting that’s supposed to run for the entire break. I’m sorry, but I really need to go this time.”

You hummed, feeling a twinge of sadness in your chest. “Okay, no problem. Would you like for me to walk you there?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, I’ll be alright. I’m getting used to it, the cane.”

With a nod, you stepped aside to let him past you. “Alright. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Of course.”

It was always meetings, or supervisions, or patrols. God, he was too busy these days.

With no Remus to accompany you, you found the divination class where both James and Peter would’ve been. 

James, noticing you from the corner of his eye, turned his head to face you. He had an arm around Peter, the two of them moving to stand beside the entrance of the classroom so as to not block those who were walking in the halls.

“Hey! How was potions? No Remus?” James asked, pushing his glasses up.

“Remus has a meeting-” “Right, that reminds me, um, guys, I have a study session this break.” Peter interjected, “sorry for the interruption, but I gotta go.”

“Oh, no problem, Wormy,” you replied, watching as James took his arm from Peter’s shoulder, shoving his back lightly as he walked off.

“You suck, James!” Peter called over his shoulder, receiving a hand-heart from his attacker in return.

You grinned, snickering a little. “Wanna come find Sirius with me?”

He smiled, his hands dropping to his sides as he made eye-contact with you. It was hard to look any of your friends in the eyes lately; you didn’t quite understand why. “Sure!”

You two had been making mindless, nonsensical chatter as you found your way to Sirius’ class. Lo and behold, he was there, leaning against the stone of the wall.

“Why’d you two take forever?” He groaned, standing up from the wall.

“Because your class is really far away,” James shrugged, him and Sirius doing their secret handshake. The long haired boy then turned to you, offering his hand for your handshake.

Once completed, you all began making random conversation, beginning to make your way down to the Black Lake.

“-And I mean, I’m Head Boy. Merlin, sometimes people are so stupid, it hurts!”

Sirius laughed, “yeah, I know. Sometimes people will think that, because I’ve had my fair share of partners and whatnot, they can just say whatever about me. It’s awful, especially when they believe that they’re my best friend for life. I cannot stand it.” He bemoaned dramatically.

“Exactly! People just believe that I’m everybody ever’s best friend because I’m Head Boy, and then-”

You didn’t try to interrupt the conversation; you wouldn’t have anything to say, anyways.

Head Boy, my relationships, prefects. It’s all everyone ever talks about, and it’s getting tiring. 

–

Everyone, for the first time in a week, was gathered in the common room. Remus sat with Sirius on a couch opposite to you, James laying across a sofa that faced the fire, and Peter sitting beside where James’ feet landed.

Remus, seeming to remember something, raised his head to look at you. You who had been quiet, avoidant, and easy to anger in recent weeks.

“Right, Y/N, do you still have my copy of the Odyssey Homer I gave to you?”

You looked at him, jaw closed tightly. “Uh, yeah. I can return it in a bit.”

“Could you maybe get it now?” He insisted, his tone kind, but almost cautious. You felt bad for the fact that he felt he needed to be careful, guilt weighing more than it already did.

“...Yeah, alright.” You muttered half-heartedly, setting aside your book and walking past the couches. The warm, cozy atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room would usually be comforting, but it only made you feel more upset. Upset for the time lost between the five of you, and longing for the connection you all had in previous years.

You walked up the steps to your dorm, one of your roommates sitting on their bed. They looked up from a book about divination, giving a wave as you trudged over to your bedside table.

“You’ve been grinding your teeth in your sleep again,” They commented, dogearing a page of the textbook and closing it. “Does your jaw not hurt?”

You ignored their question, head turning to look at them. “Oh. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Last time I did, Y/N, you were all pissy.”

“Still,” Your head turned back to the drawers as you crouched down, opening a drawer and searching through it. “I would’ve made up for it.”

“Not the point, Y/N. You’re acting weird.” They crossed their arms, leaning back against their headboard.

You paused, heart beating a little faster. So it’s noticeable? Merlin, of course it’s noticeable. But that means that your other friends have noticed it too. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. What’s eating you?”

Sighing, you closed the drawer and opened another one. “It’s just stress from school.”

They hummed, “You just said it was nothing.”

“It is, but now I’m telling you it’s school stress.”

“Exactly. You switched up your excuse because you’re refusing to say what’s been going on with you; it’s something else.”

You sent them an unamused look, trying to appear nonchalant. “Merlin, nothing’s going on. Will you drop it?”

They sighed, picking their textbook back up. “Christ, alright.”

You found the book you’d borrowed with a relieved sigh, closing the drawers of the nightstand and leaving your dorm with an unusual hastiness. Returning to the common room, you wordlessly gave Remus the Odyssey Homer and sat down again.

James craned his head towards you, stopping mid-sentence and interrupting his nonsensical conversation with Sirius. “You alright there?”

Looking up, you raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged, “You haven’t been talking as much. Did we do something? If we did, you’re allowed to punch us all really hard if you tell us what.”

You huffed. They hadn’t done anything, not really. “You guys didn’t do anything.”

Sirius hummed, tilting his head. “You are acting kinda weird, though. We obviously did if you’re being this avoidant, mate. You can talk about it, we’re not gonna be angry.”

“You’ll feel better if you do,” Peter piped up, his words drawn out.

You hesitated. “It’s so stupid.” You muttered, looking at your lap.

“What’d you say?” James asked, leaning forward.

“‘It’s stupid’,” Replied Remus, using air quotes. James gaped, standing up to march over to your couch and sit down beside you. 

“If it’s making you feel so upset, then it’s obviously not stupid!” He huffed, a hand on your shoulder. You grimaced, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not a big deal, though. I really shouldn’t be as upset as I am.”

“Nonsense, N/N! Don’t say that,” he chided. Peter leaned forward, each of your friends donning worried expressions.

Sirius scoffed, “you tell me I’m perfectly reasonable whenever i’m upset about my family, so stop being a hypocrite and tell us!”

“It’s not that easy, Pads.” You replied, frowning. 

“I know it’s not, but we all trust each other, yeah? You know we wouldn’t judge you like pricks,” He reasoned, dragging Remus with him to squeeze into the vacant space beside you on the couch. Peter got up, opting to sit at the bottom of the sofa by you.

After a few seconds of hesitation, you felt your bottom lip quivering. James frowned, leaning forward to get a look at you; curse him and his observant qualities. “Awe, no, don’t cry,” he held one of your hands, fiddling with you fingers in an ever to calm you. “Actually, no, crying is good. But please, what’s wrong?”

The others, in a collective effort you get you talking, piped in small encouragements.

You wiped your eyes, sniffling. “I feel… I dunno, I feel stupid. Like- like you guys are too… good for me.” 

“What? No!” James gasped.

Sirius frowned, an arm around your shoulders. “Absolutely not. You’re not stupid, and we are not ‘too good’!” He exclaimed, acting as though the mere thought was outlandish and preposterous in nature.

“Why would you think that?” Asked Remus, his voice gentle and coaxing.

You shrugged, swallowing your tears. “You’re… You’re all accomplishing things. And I’m really happy for you all, but I-” your voice cracked, the painful constricting of your throat cutting off your words. You’re not sure if your tears are out of anger or sadness. “I’m not doing anything. I’m not achieving anything impressive. I’m surrounded by amazing people, but I can’t even live up to a quarter of the person they are, and I’m so tired of it.”

You purse your lips, wiping at your eyes again. “And I- I…” With a deep breath, you felt the frustration in your chest bubble up again, the irresistible urge to snap consuming your thoughts and controlling your mouth. “I can’t be the person everyone else is; I’m so average it hurts, and every day I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not and won’t ever be as good as everyone else because now I’m being left alone with my thoughts more often. And- and it’s because all of you have some new title, or are too busy studying and I miss being friends with all of you and I feel so selfish, but I’m so pissed.”

When you were done, you took in what was likely the biggest breath of your life, lungs expanding wider than they ever had. Not even running could render you as out of breath as you currently are.

The rest of the Marauders fell silent, sharing expressive glances and mulling over the right things to say.

“We’re still friends. Marks, names, none of that... actually matters to us. They’re just things.” Peter replied, his voice soft.

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Everyone says that because no one understands that I try so hard to achieve that ‘thing’. It’s so much more to me than that; I just- I just want to be good enough.” You choked out, the anger fading from your voice and being replaced with a pathetic, sad crackle.

James’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Hey, no, you are good enough. We don't care about any of that,” his tone grew to become more serious than it previously was, his words carrying double the weight. “We became friends with you because we all sat in the same train compartment and got along when we were eleven. Do you think we cared when we were kids?”

You took a steadying breath, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Do you think we care now?” He continued, thumb rubbing shapes into the bone of your shoulder. 

“I don’t- I don’t think so.”

He nodded, “Good, ‘cause we don’t; you’re an enjoyable person, we value that the most!” 

“Just because Prongs and Moony’ve got posh new titles doesn’t mean they’re better,” Sirius commented up from your other side, nudging you. “If they really believed in that stuff, do you think they’d be friends with us? I mean, we have a detention slip scrapbook, mate. Not really goody-two-shoes behaviour.”

You huffed a laugh at the mention of your shared collection of write-ups, wiping at your eyes.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” James and Remus chorused, giving each other a quick high five soon after.

You took a second, but you eventually shook your head ‘no’ once more. “Sirius, the people you’ve been hanging out with, they… I don’t like it when someone new is with us.” You said cautiously, looking at him in the corner of your eye. He blinked a few times, nodding. “They ignore me, Remus and Peter most of the time and it- it just feels a bit… degrading?”

Sirius’ mouth opened, giving a slow, understanding nod. “Ooh. Yeah… I can see why,” he sympathised with you, looking at Remus briefly. “Moony and I have talked a bit about it. I swear, I’m not doing it ‘cause I think we need someone new, but I don’t want to abandon you lot to go be with someone so seems cool; not as cool us, of course. I’ve tried not to involve them in our hangouts a ton, but- I dunno, I suppose they get in their head about it and act like they’re a part of our group. I’m sorry, not just to you, but to everyone. I’ve been an ass.”

You smiled, looking at him. “Thanks, Pads. It’s okay.”

He shook you a little, frowning. “Awe, don’t say that, hold me accountable. James said you could punch us, you could punch me!” 

With a grin, you shook your head. “I’m not gonna punch you. That was shitty, though.”

“It was shitty, so if you won’t, I’ll punch him!” James offered, his usual attitude reappearing as he enthusiastically raised his hand. 

“Let’s not punch each other,” Remus said at the same time as Peter interjected, lifting his head to say, “Can we not?”

“They’re constantly inhibiting our fun,” James whined, stretching his arm over you to hold hands with Sirius, who had a dramatic, forlorn expression on his face. 

“We’re hated by everyone.” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, frowning. The look he gave Sirius, the one the other would gaze at him with in much the same way, was one of longing and affection. It was torturous, really; seeing how in-love but convinced about its assumed one-sidedness they were. “Do you not have a fan club or something?”

“Let me be sad, Remus.”

James laughed, separating his hand from Sirius’ and looking at you again. “Seriously, though. We’ll never be ‘too good’ for you or leave you behind for something stupid like a title, mate. You’re our best friend, you always have been, and nothing will change that,” he squeezed your shoulders, glasses reflecting the warm light of the fire.

Remus nodded, “none of us were abandoning you. I suppose we all got distracted in our own ordeals, but we’d never knowingly distance ourselves from you. You’re one of us; your status doesn’t change that.”

You gave both Remus and James a watery smile, old tears drying in your eyes. “I’m sorry for being avoidant. I should’ve- I should’ve said what was happening, it’s not fair to you, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” James exclaimed, removing his arms from you to outstretch at his sides, enveloping you in a hug immediately after.

Remus reached past Sirius, putting a hand on the middle of your upper back. “You’re a great friend, and I truly, honestly mean that. And you’re smart, too; don’t forget that. If I didn’t have you to talk with, I’d go insane. I hardly think they can even read.”

Sirius and James squawked dramatic refusals in response to his claim, causing Remus to grin smugly.

Sirius cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Anyways, if we’re all saying things we like about you, I still remember when you incendio’d that letter my mother sent in third year. I thought you were a badass. I still do; you’re cooler than that git.” He gestured to Remus, causing the scarred boy to raise his hands in faux shock, mouth slightly agape.

“I agree with what they said,” Peter interjected from the floor. “You’re a good friend. We all met on the train for a reason, I think.”

“Exactly, Wormy.” Sirius nudged Peter with his foot, the boy shoving it away in return.

After all was said and everyone was forgiven, you eventually all moved to form a group hug.

“Let’s pull a prank after this. ”James suggested, his voice muffled. “Let’s douse the hallways in grease from the kitchens again.”

Maybe the couch was tiny and didn’t fit all of you and maybe you couldn’t breathe anymore, but at least self-deprecation wasn't the cause for your breathlessness. The anxious, upset racing of your heart was replaced by happiness. The nasty thoughts clouding your mind and drowning out any sounds around you were replaced by giggles or dumb jokes from your closest friends.

For the first time in a few months, you felt that being average, normal, was okay.

[soukokuforthesoul]

it wasn’t hard to overpower chuuya. no matter his strength, he had an undeniable, and inevitable weakness: kindness. it got in the way of everything for chuuya. perhaps one of the highest things at fault for all of chuuya’s misfortunes was how easily he could forgive, how naïve he could be sometimes. it was beautiful, chuuya’s ability to still be so trusting in a world that only punished those who let down their guards. dazai was never like that.

his heart was made of stone, blooming the darkest obsidian as it failed to be anything but rock. he couldn’t be like chuuya—he was never considerate, always in his own world; anyone else was simply a pawn in his eyes. expendable, stupid, and essentially useless.

and yet, despite everything, there was something about chuuya that made dazai halt. chuuya, and his wide oasis eyes, his sunset colored hair, and his pure, sweet heart. somehow, some way, he made dazai hesitate. from when they first met, dazai disliked chuuya. because he could sense that, despite the stubborn behavior he displayed, chuuya would never succeed in this thing called life. not in the mafia, not in the sheep, not in the world. he was much too terribly out of place. he deserved a world that was as kind as him, yet he lived in one that would only ever repay him with pain. and that, in itself, was enough to make dazai freeze up.

whether he couldn’t believe someone like chuuya exist, or the simple fact that chuuya was truly this amazing, it had dazai unable to deal the finishing blow. he could not, if only in his mind, kill chuuya. eventually, he would need to. be it a mission or something entirely other. chuuya could not survive much longer in this world, and dazai wanted, more than anything, to be the one to kill him. yet, with each opportunity that held itself open, dazai hesitated. he backed away, turning a blind eye to the opening chuuya unknowingly held.

it was easy to hurt chuuya, it would be easy to kill him. as more of a fact than anything, dazai would always be stronger than chuuya. perhaps the redhead could make dazai bleed, but dazai was and would always be at an advantage, in the end. chuuya was weak in his heart, in his mind. whereas dazai’s heart was only a boulder in his chest—irritating, but easy to forget. and that made dazai so, so much stronger than chuuya. in this world, at least, chuuya would never win.

so, then, why did dazai still freeze? why was he tensing, right as his hands slotted perfectly around chuuya’s neck? all he had to do was squeeze. though not quite the physical match of chuuya, he still held considerable strength. it wouldn’t take too much, it required little effort, really. yet somehow, he was stuck. and chuuya only watched, his eyes refreshing as water, but dazed like the murky sides of a lake. he said nothing, and neither did dazai. the only sound was of their hearts. they thumped quietly, quickly, almost unsteadily.

and in the midst of it all, a single thought bounced through dazai’s head: he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t kill chuuya.

it wasn’t that he didn’t hate him. he’d channelled every bit of fury he’d felt for chuuya since the day they’d met, and it had gotten him as far as having chuuya in this position. holding him down so he could swiftly finally rid of the same man he’d done nothing but despise for years. but it had gotten him that far, and nowhere else. dazai was stuck. and chuuya had no intention to leave.

tracing the familiar crooks of chuuya’s face, dazai’s eyes trailed over the smooth skin. apparently even mafia work couldn’t dent chuuya’s near-perfect appearance. the usually screwed up face was slack, now, devoid of its usual frustration. it was strange to see anything but anger directed at dazai, especially from chuuya. it was unnerving.

dazai’s hold on chuuya’s throat loosened. he fully expected chuuya to escape then, given the chance. truthfully, chuuya could do it. but he lacked the will to. the want to. so he remained there, laying under dazai, his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. he made no move to leave, nor did he make any acknowledgment that he noticed. the only difference was how he breathed more easily, more deeply. but it could’ve been an unconscious action—his body taking autopilot. it meant nothing when dazai had allowed a careless slip of his control.

nothing would pride chuuya more than getting the better of dazai. yet he didn’t take the chance when it finally came. and somehow, dazai had done exactly the same. he would’ve loved to take chuuya’s life—to allow him the freedom of leaving life behind him. right in front of him was the clear opportunity for him to do it. but he made no move to proceed.

they were both idiots in that way. idiocy wasn’t appreciated in either of their lines of work. neither was it welcomed in the world, in general. but still, they stood as the most idiotic of all.

dazai’s fingers trailed up, and up, and up, grazing chuuya’s jaw, his lips, his cheekbones. they rested on his face, cupping his cheeks as his thumbs brushed over chuuya’s eyelids. dazai leaned down, gaze fluttering, as his hair swept forward. the dark brown strands tickled chuuya’s face, and the man twitched, blinking slowly. a name was swept from dazai’s tongue, breathed against chuuya’s face. chuuya’s name, really. a stupid name, an idiotic name, because of the speaker—because of the bearer of the name. it was hard to tell why either did anything. why either existed. they could not correlate with one another without colliding in a crash, breaking each other down again and again and again.

hands fluttering off chuuya’s face like butterfly wings, dazai’s neck bent fully down. his forehead touched chuuya’s, and maroon locks mixed with orange. from their proximity, breath was shared and recycled, but went unnoticed. breathing was nothing but an instinct. and then—perhaps this was all an instinct. dazai stopping was an instinct. chuuya doing nothing was an instinct. it was all instinctive in the way they refused to harm each other.

chuuya held power over dazai. his own weakness became a weapon against the man with no weaknesses.

perhaps chuuya was at the mercy of the world, but dazai had fallen to the hands of this man all the same. it had been a terrible thing to hate chuuya, and it was a terrible thing to love.

[dasketcherz]

Thoughts on Hugo & Varian as Odysseus + Penelope from Epic The Musical? (Not directly, but like, their songs at least. Especially "Would you fall in love with me again?") I APOLOGIZE FOR LONG INFODUMP </3 Like, which ones do you think would fit who? Imo, I believe both fit either side really well. Varian as Ody is basically him doing all the bad things he did in Corona and asking Hugo if he'll forgive him and love him, because at the time, he thought he had no choice but to do those things. Hugo never cared about what Varian did that deeply because he had his own qualms too, he was fine with waiting for him because he wasn't a monster, he was just a boy who was hurt. He was, and is, just Varian. They're both beautiful yet broken and Hugo's gonna help pick up those pieces. The "bow" that people would use for suitors is actually just a giant machine that one of them broke and if they're gonna get married to someone other than each other, then at least they can find a mechanically competent partner LOL (This goes both ways, no matter who is Ody or Penelope, thought I think it'd be fun if Hugo was Penelope, the bow would be switched out for a gun he made that nobody knew how it worked) Yet, imagine Varian as Penelope in a way. He's already gone through all of that pain before, he's just been waiting for love to find him. Waiting for Hugo. Hugo in "Would you fall in love with me again?" asking Varian if he'd still love him even if he made mistakes, did horrible things, things that he thought nobody would accept him doing even though he had no choice. Like growing up on the streets or doing dirty work for Donella. There was an inherent pyramid and where he stood was not high enough. I think Varian in Penelope's position would be exhausted (lovingly) waiting for Hugo for so long only for him to go "Would u still love me if I maybe did these bad things and there's POSSIBLYYY blood on my hands?? :c" to THE ALCHEMIST WHO RAMPAGED ACROSS CORONA FOR HIS DAD'S SAFETY!! Like... he knows what it's like to do that Hugo. Probs worse. You'll be okay.. <3 It would also be a fun parallel for Varian & Cass tbh. If he was Penelope he'd be waiting in a similar fashion to Cass. They're tired of waiting for something they want, they want it now, but it's just not possible unless something magICAL happens. Either way, they'll do what they need to do to keep it in their favor. For love or not. And finally, mildly unrelated topic, if we're taking the whole storyline out of context for Epic & just picking a song that fits them- Ofc "Would you fall in love with me again?" would be the Varigo song, but I ALSO PROPOSEEEE Varian & Cassandra's song to be "We'll Be Fine" with Cass as Athena talking about Raps & Varian as Telemachus. THAT IS ALL TY FOR READING!!

OH MY GOSH PLEASE DONT APOLOGIZE FOR THE LONG POST, THIS IS STELLAR OMG IT'S SUCH A PEAK DEEP DIVE AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SCRUMPTIOUS FOOD AND SHARING IT WITH ME!!

Both alternate takes on the odysseus/penelope: varigo roles is so good!! And the talking points on why the roles can really work both ways is spot on!!

I think what's so fascinating about varigo's dynamic when it came to their misdeeds is how Hugo had stopped thinking too much about the crimes he committed because he grew up in an environment where everyone does it (to survive) hence it comes off like it's just a normal activity (that prbbly is not anywhere else) among ingvarrians (who are less fortunate) meanwhile Varian thinks about his a lot, like a constant shadow of his past that never left him and will constantly follow him no matter what path he takes in life.

So when Hugo begun to care for Varian... when Varian's opinions and how he sees him begun to matter to him—that's when he suddenly starts to genuinely reflect on his own past actions—because he wants to be good for Varian, wants to be someone worthy of his love, wants to be someone Varian deserves, wants to do better for Varian. But to Varian, he is good enough as he is, as just Hugo.

And when Varian confesses about his past, he still expects a shift to their relationship because he's afraid, afraid that he wont be accepted fully for both the good and the bad sides of himself. But Hugo doesn't let that change the way he thinks of him—because its all in the past, and he understands, like truly he gets it. And he is set on making sure Varian knows that, that he'll still love him all the same. Cuz like you said, he never saw him as a monster, he's just Varian—the silly, clumsy-prone, passionate, brilliant and kind person he came to know.

And they'll embrace each other wholeheartedly for who they are and it's just aghhh, god gay ppl man !! i cant stand them!! /VPOS

ALSO ouuughh the challenge being "figure out how this complicated mechanism that I created works" is just genius!! Like PLEEEASE they fucking would !! Its smart, its sneaky, its such a subtle way to say "fuck you im waiting for the love of my life to come back and thats not yall" and its so them-coded behavior, eating it up so hard

(and the We'll Be Fine as a Cass/Varian song is pretty fitting as well yeh! I can totally see that, I see the vision!)

[jessicafangirl]

Building A Mystery

Here it is kids, my Vampire Volkarin fic, chapter 1. Life and the universe kept me from getting this one up sooner than I would like but I hope you enjoy this first glimpse into Mystery and Emmrich's tale. You can also read here on AO3

Let me know what you think kids.

Mystery Ingellvar AKA Rook and Emmrich Volkarin found each other at the end of the world. Together they stopped this from happening along with their team. After defeating the Elven Gods, the heroes of the Veilguard now keep watch from the Lighthouse and fight to keep evil from returning to the realm. During one of these battles Rook is nearly killed and Emmrich realizes that even though he gave up Lichdom to save Manfred he now has left himself nearly powerless to keep the woman he loves safe. Emmrich leaves the Lighthouse and Mystery to find a solution which will change their lives forever.

Okay let's get one thing straight. I LOVE Emmrich. He's everything. Peter Cushing, Vincent Price, Cardinal Copia, and any and all silver foxes I've loved all rolled into one. He deserves all the love.

Anyway, now that I've got that out of the way, my other love is vampires. And to me it makes sense that Emmrich would decide if Lichdom was off the table he'd figure out a way to make this a goal and make it work. Love makes us do funny things.

We may or may not have an appearance of a pale elf some of you may know here or at least be mentioned.

Mystery is the name I figured out for my Rook after I made her. It fits for an orphan left on a pile of skeletons in the realm of the dead don't you think? Myst is in her 40s (so Emmrich is still a little older) but she's just as much of a wallflower who didn't really interact that much with people until she ran into Varric a few years ago. He saw her talents and her knowledge and decided, yeah that'll do. That meeting opened up a world to her she'd only read about in history books and novellas.

Instead of being around people and adventuring around, she had spent her time amongst the dead reading, training. She'd never ran into Emmrich but when she does finally meet him it's like one of those elegant heroes from the books she read all her life had stepped out of the pages for her.

So that's a little background for you. Give me all your angst baby. I'm here for the tasty angst.

______________________________________________________________

Emmrich was gone.

That was what Rook woke up to when she’d come round. Emmrich was gone and no one knew where to. She’d nearly died…again. At least in the Fade she couldn’t die, no matter how hellish it was while trapped there. She’d actually just disappeared and not been almost skewered by a well-placed blade by an undead warrior with really good luck. At least until Taash had roasted his undead flesh off his bones. The blade had just missed her heart.

Rook’s blue eyes were hazy as she came to, everything hurting. Her first word was his name. But Emmrich didn’t answer her. Instead Lucanis came to stand beside her, taking her hand in his gloved one. “Shhh, it’s okay. You need to rest.” His softly accented voice wrapped around her.

Rook didn’t want to rest; she wanted to know where her Necromancer was. But she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter as the dark was pulling her back down again. She thought she heard Manfred’s familiar hiss as she slipped away, Lucanis telling the skeleton “I know, but we can’t bother her with that now.”

The next time she came round it was to daylight streaming through a window somewhere nearby. She had no idea how long she’d been out, but her dreams had seemed very real. More like memories…but she was seemingly watching it all take place from somewhere other than her body. The fight…that was first….the smell of blood and corrupted dead flesh. There was a scent to the undead who were brought back with dark magic…it wasn’t clean…it was foul. Not even the usual smell of a typical corpse, something Rook was used to thanks to her time in the Mourn Watch and the Necropolis.

No, the corrupted dead were beyond normal rot. It was as if the evil that had beget them permeated everything, even maggots wouldn’t feed from them. If some did, they’d die from the tainted feast, falling off them limp and lifeless.

The battle hadn’t been a long one. The mage who had decided to try their luck at the powerful forces needed didn’t realize just how much they had taken on in their bid to take over the city. It had wound up destroying them…too much infernal magic. The mage had died spectacularly in a ball of their own fire leaving a number of undead to deal with before the city was overwhelmed.

Rook saw in her mind’s eye how elegant Emmrich had been, his hands graceful as the green energy that he had flowing through him shot out and brought a final, merciful end to many of the creatures. He’d call out a “Well done my love.” When she’d take down their foes and she’d shout back when he’d do the same “Dashing and dangerous my dear.” Rook swore she could see the blush on his pale cheeks when she’d done that.

She’d been surprised. That’s what had happened. She’d taken care of the two undead she’d been fighting but a third had been in hiding. The pain had been quick, breathtakingly intense and then more concerningly gone and replaced by a chilling cold that spread through her quickly. Rook felt the blade pulled out from her chest and from far away heard Emmrich’s tortured cry of “Noooooo!”

She’d fallen to her knees and was oddly calm when she looked up at the moving cadavers face, red flames in place of eyes. This was it…I’m so sorry Emmrich….it’s my fault. I’m so sorry. It repeated over and over in her head. But before the creature could deliver a final blow it was ripped away from her in a blast of green. The undead was thrown with such force at a brick wall on the other side of the plaza that it exploded in a shower of gore, blood, and bone.

Rook had seen it and watched in numbed awe and disgust combined. It was impressive but not pleasant to look at. Her eyelids were so heavy then and it hurt to breathe. The blood was staining her shirt under the thin armor and the cold was now stretching from her chest out through her arms and legs. The blood was warm though…it was taking her warmth with it as it steadily left her. “oh….”

The wave of dizziness made her world spin and then Emmrich was there, kneeling beside her, catching her and pulling her into his arms. The scents of lilac and sweet incense met her nose, washing away the scents of decay. “My darling.” She heard his gentle voice, the words that sounded so brittle against her ear trembling. “My love you must hold on…stay with me Rook…you must stay with me.”

“Emmrich…” She heard herself as if far away, “I’m sorry…didn’t see them.” Rook had pressed her cheek against his warm chest, the heat of him radiating through the soft silk of his shirt. He always smelled so good….she’d miss that.

He’d held her so tightly for a moment, she’d heard a choked sob trying to be kept at bay in his long throat. “Shh…I need…I need you to stay awake my Mystery.” He pulled away just enough to start working the clasps of her armor. He had to see the damage; he had to fix this now. The rest of the battle was nearly done, he could hear the clashing of weapons, the sounds of other magic being launched at their foes. Emmrich could hear the distant panting of Lucanis who had followed him as he ran to where they were to keep watch while he tended to her.

She remembered the pull of the armor against her wound, the hiss of pain as the Necromancer pulled it away. His green and gold flecked eyes had widened at the sight. “My love….” He’d whispered the words, as though he didn’t realize they were said out loud. Her shirt was stained red from her blood, the injury deep. He’d immediately started crafting healing magic to stop the damage, the bleeding.

She’d been hurt bad, and Rook knew it, could feel it, could see it in Emmrich’s tortured expression. The familiar tingling, the slight burn of the magic leaking into her skin made her hiss. The fact it hurt this bad was another sign of the severity of the wound. Rook had blacked out then, her eyes too heavy to keep open any longer. The next time she came to some half-wakened state it was to darkness. Things were blurry, her vison unclear. There was a numbness to her body, like a limb when you’ve slept too long on it. The feeling spread out from her chest to her toes and fingers. And seemingly her brain as she couldn’t make out details in the gloom. But then there was a flare of green fire, familiar in the near black of the room.

“Emmrich….” Her voice was unfamiliar to her ears, weak, barely a whisper. Just that word took all her strength…but it was a word worth the sacrifice, worth any sacrifice. And then he was there beside her, the green fire surrounding his fingers like ghostly flames of jade.

When her heavy eyes met his she saw in their depths fear, sorrow, exhaustion but a determination no other could have matched. “I am here my love.” He said, the lilt of his voice reaching her ears like a caress. “You must save your strength. Do not talk dearest.” His hands hovered over her heart, above the wound in her chest. He spoke an incantation of healing, the dialect actually unfamiliar to her…or maybe she was simply too still in shock to recognize it.

The thrum of magic rippled over her skin and through her and with it a feeling that she could only say was Emmrich. In that magic that came from within him she felt his love, his strength and will to mend her wounds, to make her whole again. The scent of lilac and bergamot filled her nostrils. She could almost hear his voice now in her head “I will not lose you my love. I will not let you go. We’ve been through too much for you to leave me now. I’ve only just found you. I cannot lose you. I will not lose you.”

The heat from the magic entering her spread throughout her entire body. It felt like comfort and Mystery could feel it pulling her back down into sleep. The glow of green faded then and she heard Emmrich let out an exhausted sob as he fell to his knees next to the mattress.

No…no Emmrich shouldn’t be crying. Never. She couldn’t bear the thought. Rook reached out her fingers and let them thread into his silver laced hair. “I love you…don’t…cry.” She managed to say even though the words sounded far away to her ears.

At this he raised his head in surprise, his fingers clasping hers tightly, the gold of his rings still warm from the residual magic. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his mustache tickling her skin. “I…I love you my Mystery.” Rook heard him take a ragged breath as he pressed her fingers against his cheek. Even in her stupor of a state she could feel the stubble of a beard starting to form. Emmrich’s control had returned, Rook could sense it in the way he straightened his back as he placed another kiss to her fingers. “You must rest. Let my magic do its work dearest heart. Do not fight the pull of sleep, let it in and dream of our home.”

Rook didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to stay with him, but she saw a soft glow of green light where their hands were clasped together, and a warm wave of sleepiness started taking over her. “Want…to stay…with you.” Rook said drowsily, her eyelids so heavy.

“You will darling…you will.” She heard Emmrich say from far away. Rook felt something slip onto her ring finger then, still warm from the green fire. “This I vow my love.” Sleep took her then.

She vaguely remembered opening her eyes the next time to a familiar chamber, now no longer shrouded in darkness. There were walls of books surrounding her, beautiful and filling the air with the scents of old paper and leather…the perfume of knowledge she’d named it and Emmrich had smiled so lovely at the phrase one night while they had been researching a ceremony to remove a haunting.

He’d kissed her without a word suddenly after she’d said it. Rook had been happily surprised by the action. “What was that for?” She’d asked him, grinning like a school girl with the biggest crush.

“Because you have a beautiful turn of phrase my dearest…and I could not resist the temptation of the lips that could conjure such lovely prose.” The Necromancer had replied, his ring covered fingers lightly caressing her cheek as he smiled down at her.

She’d shook her head at the thought such a man who could craft such elegant flattery would think she was the one with the knack for phrasing. Emmrich’s voice and his own way with words was one of her weaknesses. With the way the firelight had caught his eyes and glinted in the lovely silver streaking his hair, blazing within the gold of his rings and bracelets she decided she wanted to plunder the treasure that was her necromancer.

He’d noticed the way her eyes had darkened, the blue depths sapphire, her lips turning up in a smile that meant dastardly thoughts had entered her head. “My love…what are you plotting?” He’d asked, cheeks flushing and the question only slightly breathy.

She’d pushed him to the settee, and he’d fallen back against the cushions, still graceful though surprised. Rook remembered draping herself over him and the poor man was trapped. “We…we…really should be exploring…” She’d gotten at least two buttons undone on his shirt at that point and her mouth had found his throat, as did her teeth. The sound he’d made was probably supposed to be a word, but she’d been hard pressed to figure out which one. And she’d had other things on her mind like the rest of the buttons.

A quick intake of air “Exploring….ways…to…” he tried again. Emmrich was a determined sort that was true. But so was Rook. Half the buttons now and she started peppering his chest with kisses, her cheek rubbing against the graying hair that covered the center above his heart. “stop….” He managed to gasp out.

She remembered lifting her gaze to his, seeing his green eyes nearly closed, the color so dark she could barely see where the pupils ended and the green began. Her fingers ran along his side, sliding to his hip. “Did you say you want me to stop?” She’d asked, one brow raised.

He’d had one very short look of panic cross his face. “Don’t…don’t stop.” He’d practically begged. “Never…stop.” He’d then pulled her up to where she was literally sprawled on top of him and held her face in his bejeweled fingers. “Never…” He’d said and then kissed her fully, taking her breath away along with his own.

The memory was sweet. One of a treasure trove that had managed to outweigh the bad she’d collected so many of in her life. The scales were getting more even all thanks to a man who could make the dead speak and her life sing.

But he wasn’t here right now. The room was missing what made it truly special, made it home. She sat up, wincing just slightly at the pull on her injuries and sore muscles. She was healed for the most part. She moved aside the long silken shift that covered her to look down at where the blade had pierced her.

It had been worse than she imagined it or remembered clearly. There was an angry scar marring her pale skin, just to the side of her heart. This was evidence of how close she’d came to dying…the fact Emmrich’s healing magic, something he was powerful in, had not been able to leave her unmarked. How long had she been unconscious? Where was Emmrich?

Brain still hazy from the ordeal and just coming round, Rook pulled her shift back into place and slowly swung her legs off the bed. The sheets, the pillow cases smelled like him. The cologne he wore that held the scents of lilacs and bergamot. There was a hint of incense too. All of this was Emmrich, and it calmed her slowly growing anxiety a bit.

Rook glanced down, feeling something unfamiliar on her left hand. There now was a golden ring, sigils of protection carved into the band with a stunning pale green emerald. In the light the green matched Emmrich’s magic almost perfectly, as though he’d given her a piece of himself that could always be with her. She ran a finger over the stone, tears pricking her eyes.

She went to stand and nearly stumbled, her muscles not used to the motion. Rook grasped hold of the wooden column of the bed nearest her letting out a gasp as there was still pain in her chest. The movement of her arm pulled the still tender muscles and freshly healed flesh.

A familiar hiss from across the room met her ears and Manfred’s skeletal visage appeared quickly following it. The sweet spirit gently took hold of her arm to keep her steady.

“Thank you…Manfred.” Rook managed to say, her throat dry and raspy.

Manfred settled her back on the bed to sit with her feet on the floor. After a few more hisses and gestures, Rook took the hint she was supposed to stay there while Emmrich’s favorite student headed off. He returned a minute or two later followed by Davrin looking relieved and worried in equal measure. It was a strange combination.

“Rook…how are you feeling?” The Warden’s kind eyes studied her.

“Sore…and thirsty.” She looked up at him.

Davrin saw how pale she was. There didn’t seem to be a fever though, just exhaustion showing in her blue gaze. He moved to a table nearby and poured some water into a cup, bringing it over to her. “Drink this slowly. You’ve been out for a while.”

After a few sips she kept hold of the cup, grasping it in her hands tightly to try and keep her fingers from trembling. Her voice she wasn’t so successful with. “How long is a while?”

Davrin glanced away. “On and off for about eight days.” He answered her.

Rook gasped at that. Eight days. She’d been more damaged than she thought. Emmrich had to have been exhausted.

“Where’s Emmrich? Sleeping I hope?” she asked, taking another drink.

Davrin didn’t answer her, and Rook noticed. “Davrin…where’s Emmrich?” Her voice was hushed to her own ears.

The warden turned, his eyes not able to meet hers still. “He left two days ago…when he knew you were going to be okay.”

As if knowing he’d waited to make sure she was alright would make his absence better. Where did he leave to though? “What happened, why did he leave?” Rook’s voice hitched up, a strange feeling running up her spine. Emmrich wouldn’t just leave. He wouldn’t just leave her…at least she didn’t think he would.

Davrin leaned against the bottom left post of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “None of us knew he was going until Manfred walked into the main all carrying two letters on a tray like a butler. One was addressed to the team and the other’s for you.”

He pulled an envelope from his tunic’s pocket, one that was familiar to Rook from Emmrich’s desk. They were from his best stationery, the pieces he used for his most important correspondence. Davrin slipped it into her shaking hand.

He quickly glanced away, pursing his lips. “Honestly, I hadn’t seen him in a state like that before. I should have known something was up.”

Rook’s blue eyes stared at the envelope in her hand like it was the most poisonous spider she’d ever seen. She placed the cup of water on the bedside table as though the weight of the envelope needed both hands to keep it in her grasp. “What sort of state Davrin?” she asked him in a hushed whisper.

Davrin was reconsidering being the one to bring her the letter and the news. “The closest I can compare is when you were lost to the fade. He looked haggard. Haunted as though he hadn’t slept since you were brought back here. I know the amount of healing he had to do worked on him but…it was more than that.”

Rook closed her eyes and fought back a sob, her breath hitching. “What did your letter say?”

The warden sighed. “He told us he had to go away for a while and to ensure you were taken care of until his return, Manfred as well. He had a personal quest to follow. He didn’t leave any more details.”

Rook was in shock. He’d left Manfred behind? She felt her face grow visibly paler, her heart beat speeding up in anxiety, a creeping feeling of dread growing up along her spine. Her muscles winced as she felt a tremor pull at her still healing wound.

Davrin didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had a feeling whatever was in the letter would be better read privately. The warden moved away from the post of the bed. “I’ll go check in with Lucanis on getting you something to eat. Manfred won’t leave your side no matter what we tried so we’ve been taking shifts with him.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes distant. “Thank you Davrin…thank everyone.”

He gave her a nod, placing a large hand on her shoulder with far more gentle care than anyone would expect and then left.

Mystery’s fingers shook as she stared down at the envelope. Delaying this wouldn’t do any good but she couldn’t stop the scenarios in her head. His loss of lichdom had finally come home to him and he couldn’t stand seeing her, the one that had talked him into saving his skeleton of a son instead. He couldn’t deal with how needy she was. He’d realized he could do so much better than she.

The old doubts could come so fast, return so quickly that it made it hard to breathe for a few seconds as they strangled her. Her own parents hadn’t wanted her…why would the most handsome, most magical man she’d ever met still want her around?

As if knowing her thoughts the ring on her finger grew warm. In a trick of the light she thought she saw the stone glowing. He’d not part with something like this if he were tossing her aside, leaving her behind, would he? Mystery ran shaking fingers through her short blonde hair, twirling the single braid nervously around her finger. Emmrich would do the same thing sometimes before they would head into a dangerous situation, his thumb stroking it with a sweet smile “For luck.” He’d say, then press his lips to her hair.

She felt a single tear hit her cheek and she wiped it away taking a shaky breath. “Get it over with Myst, just do it.” She told herself.

The envelope opened easily as she carefully pulled the green wax seal that held the shape of a skull away. The pages were thick, and she held them to her nose for a moment, catching the scent of the lotion he used, the fragrance of lilac and some herbal mixture that would always linger when he touched her. Mystery unfolded the pages and there in Emmrich’s beautiful, precise handwriting was his message to her. She took a deep breath and began reading.

My beloved Mystery,

I’ll be gone by the time you read these words. I would not have left your side if I didn’t know for certain my healing spells worked and you would be well. Nor would I have left you without knowing you’d be in the safest, most trustworthy hands of our friends, our family as they’ve grown to be.

What I’m doing and where I’m going is too dangerous to risk you or Manfred. And while the danger is great the reward shall be a way of ensuring your safety and my ability to keep you safe. To ensure we are together always my darling.

I will never regret choosing Manfred’s return to us over lichdom. Our little family fills my heart with joy and wonder every day. But this latest near loss of you, so close to losing you my beloved, has shown me that I must find a way to keep you safe and to protect you. A way to ensure I am there to fulfill the promise of my vow. My dearest heart, I believe I have found a way to do this and perhaps give me what lichdom could as well in some ways. While you recovered I planned, I worked, and drank more than my share of Lucanis’s strongest coffee. I don’t know if I’ll be able to recover from so much of that brew.

My Mystery, it is the hardest thing I’ve had to do, leaving your side like a thief in the night. But know that I will return to you as soon as I’m able. When I do, I may be changed, and I hope I am. But in your eyes and in my heart know that I’m the same man who loves you more than life itself and whose life truly began when you found him.

Forgive me for leaving you like this, but I know if I had told you I was going I would not have been able to resist if you had asked me to stay. I can deny you nothing my darling, but this separation will be worth it in the end. And I will then be by your side forever more.

Yours always and with love, E.

Mystery reread it three times before it finally hit her that he’d left because of her, just not in the way she had worried about. Now it was a whole other level of fear and sadness that took over her thoughts and guilt. Oh Maker, the guilt that fell over her. Her stupid and careless mistake that had nearly cost her her life had taken away one of her reasons for living.

“Oh Emmrich…” She felt the tears come then in earnest. There was no stopping these. The vagueness of the letter wasn’t helping. What had he gone to do that was so dangerous he wouldn’t allow her and Manfred to go with him? He’d been right, she would have made him stay somehow.

She heard a soft hiss come from behind her and Manfred appeared holding one of Emmrich’s embroidered handkerchiefs. “Rook…ssssad.” He said and she could do nothing but shake her head and take the piece of cloth.

Of course it too smelled like him as she wiped at her eyes. “Yes Manfred, I’m sad.” She managed to say. She needed to pull herself together even if her heart was shattering into a million pieces of worry, guilt, and pain. Manfred needed someone to keep an eye on him, to keep him on his path of studies. She had her other obligations for keeping the realm safe as one of the heroes of the Veil Guard.

Mystery still didn’t know quite how all this happened, how her life had gotten to where it now was. It was so much. All of it. But Emmrich was always there, or at least he had been, to keep her grounded. Emmrich with the sweetest words, the most skilled fingers, and kisses that could melt a slab of iron with the heat they could contain. Her Necromancer was all prim and proper etiquette for the world to see, but when it was just the two of them, particularly during the moon lit hours, another side would emerge.

Emmrich Volkarin had a hunger within him that was directed at her. It wanted to consume her. Those words filled with charm and politeness would disappear as those magical fingers would pull at the buttons keeping her shirt on and her flesh from his touch. That smooth, honey voice would grow lower and would start muttering phrases that would make her cheeks burn even now just remembering it. “My Mystery,” he’d say, “I shall take my time solving you. But tonight I will uncover all I can, taste every part that is you until I have my fill.”

His mouth would find her neck first, his mustache tickling her skin while his tongue ran along her pulse, tasting her as he’d promised. His teeth would suckle then, leaving her gasping as he marked her, the first of many such brands he’d leave all over her.

In the morning she’d ask him to place a glamor on the ones visible just so they weren’t flaunting themselves too much and he’d sigh and grumpily do so. “Not all of them my dear, I feel I’ve earned the right to remain for you to remember.” He’d say after a wave of green magic settled over her skin erasing the little purple marks.

Mystery would shake her head and smile, kissing his chin and giving it a quick nip. “As if I could forget.”

She couldn’t keep thinking about those nights, these memories. She’d just crumple onto the floor and Manfred was right there hovering and making tiny little erratic, nervous noises. Rook gripped the handkerchief tightly and sat up straighter, turning to the gem eyed skeleton. “Manfred, Emmrich has gone on a trip, but that doesn’t mean you are getting out of your lessons.”

Manfred nodded. “Left…with Rook.” He said.

She gave a watery smile. “Yes, he left you with me. So tomorrow we will start on your lessons, okay?”

“OK” The skeleton replied, seemingly feeling better about things.

Rook found it so strange how you could tell when Manfred was smiling when he was literally a skull. But she could at this point. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good…I think I need to take a nap for a while, why don’t you go back to reading the tome for tomorrow’s lesson?”

Manfred nodded and headed back to his chair and the book that was still there. Rook watched as he picked it up and started his studying again. Mystery placed the letter on the bedside table and then curled up in the bed only wincing a little at the pain in her chest. That pain was nothing compared to what she now felt but hopefully it would all heal in time.

She only hoped that Emmrich would let her know he was okay or better yet be back sooner than later. Any other outcomes she wouldn’t let take root in her mind or heart.

[donquixotehomura]

Me rn anticipating the purgatory pile 😂.

I don't have that much in drafts.... Does the ones in my brain count? Anyways the written ones.

One of them is actually complete and just needs the tags and such to be posted but... Well procrastination... Doffy x Yandere reader.... I thought like.. He's always the Yandere so why not have her be the Yandere? Also it's more in HC form (I think that's what it's called) with some detailed story telling... But it's all about how Yandere, Yandere reader is..... And how Doffy doesn't see anything wrong with it cause he's Doffy 😂.

I've got another one same situation as the 1st one but it's reader fully accepted Doffy being a Yandere for her.... Cause honestly I see all those red flags but still I'd rather he kidnapped me away from my life and kept me by his side, I don't have to deal with people, work, deal with bosses and coworkers... Like fr? I just need to look pretty and not show interest in anybody else and be all over you? Damn that's a nice deal seeing as I'm already obsessed with you and I'm so happy you noticed me.. Yay (don't do this irl ppl 😂)

Now onto one that's incomplete in writing but is fully in my head.... Actually I have a multi chapter fic in my head for it.... Doflamingo's Daughter... How would Doffy be if he had a bio daughter (knowing this horny flamingo it's very easy to assume he was irresponsible once as a teen and BAAM... A hellspawn) I have the idea of him being like 16-18 when he has her, he spoils her all the time, she's his blood, so she deserves the best of the best.... But him struggling to be a single dad... Too arrogant to ask for help and most definitely won't throw his daughter to someone else to raise her.... He won't fail her in anyway like his father failed him..... She grows up very attached to him and what he did at first as a superiority, arrogance situation quickly becomes "this little girl is my life and I won't let anyone or anything hurt her.... I'll burn down islands and go to war with the World Government for her sake"....current fic (1st chapter) is him getting her.... Her mother abandoned her with him not wanting anything to do with her (can't pretend nothing bad happened to her due to that)... Him trying to figure out how to parent and also grappling with the fact that this tiny creature is so damn loud... And also she quieted down immediately the moment he held her to his chest which made him like "???" Doffy.exe has run into an error 😂

The whole thing is about Dad Doffy and how on paper he's a good dad.... Well he is but he's raising a narcissistic maniac who's used to getting what she wants no matter what and has murder, destruction, conquering tendencies...... Yeah he's raising a female version of himself minus the trauma 😂

Quick note that won't fully work in (reader) setting I always write my fics in OC form then edit it to be reader form (my brain works weird) but his daughter is called Luna (Goddess of the Moon also in Spanish the moon is La Luna) so he always calls her his little moon, the light in his darkness, she lights up his dark life like the moon lights up the night sky.

As a child Luna was totally adorable and cute and loving towards Doflamingo, like always running to him "dada dada wove" and hugs and kisses on his cheek and nose ♥️..... Which also causes Doffy.exe has run into an error please..... Stop being so unconditionally loving why? How? Just... It's been so long since I felt this.... It's so genuine and pure not out of fear or need of being in his good graces or even trying to use him like everyone else.

That's a lot of ranting damn 😂 anyways done... Not gonna start talking about the wife OC (adjustable to reader) that I made I whole ass new race/clan for with their own abilities and lore that can both match his energy and also put him in his place cause many reasons but one of them is she's taller and bigger than him (not by much) and that just does things to him without her even trying 😂..... Both fluffy and sexual... Like being the small spoon has never been so tempting and amazing..... She just knows how to baby him....

Also brat taming and matching strapons/dick to her height but sssshhhh

WIP Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @fanaticsnail 💕🫶🏻❤️ I can’t wait for Rockier Port Incident and some pollen fics and so much Kid Pirates you’re writing, love it.

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

(Me, opening my folder)

Haahaha, fuuuuuck

Okay, so let’s focus on the active WIPs that I am working on daily. All of them are Doflamingo x Reader in some form. I have only one fully Corazon x Reader but you can also ask regarding that one. P.S. NSFW usually it isn't thaaat smutty but just Doffy's inner thoughts are horny as hell in a lot of these and there are dark/adult themes throughout so... Yeah! If there is a bit of smut I'll put it as 🌶️, if the fic is smut-only 🌶️🌶️🌶️)

I’ll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) - Doflamingo x Rosinante's Wife! Reader (and some Past Rosinante) (multi-chap, NSFW, 🌶️)

Merlot & Primroses - North Blue Doflamingo x Rosinante's Wife!Reader, post Rosinante's death (multi-chap, NSFW, 🌶️)

close your eyes (it’ll all be over soon) - Doflamingo x Rosinante’s Wife!Reader (NSFW one-shot 🌶️🌶️🌶️ set in Merlot & Primroses where North Blue Doflamingo treats you differently when he meets you aka when you thought it can’t be more fucked up and dark, Doflamingo laughs in your face)

resemblance - Doflamingo x Rosinante’s Wife!Reader (NSFW one-shot, 🌶️🌶️🌶️)

marigolds - Marineford! Doflamingo (my love aka I squeal when I see him, I love him and his orange pants and his half buttoned shirt, and the fact he is fully wearing his coat and looks like a pink pom pom, "Doflamingo, I choose you!🦩" sir are you free on Saturday 😳😳😳) x Rosinante's Wife! Reader (SFW, oneshot)

As you can see, the Rosinante's Wife!Reader trope has a real hold on me. I got the idea in August and am still writing about it. Idk what it is about it. Prob cus the trope of Doffy longing after Cora's wife is so very Doffy of him? Now... For...

Celestial Dragon Doflamingo Fics 🤍

There are a few main ones. To know, Reader is not a Celestial Dragon in any of these stories.

Celestial Dragon Doffy x Rosinante’s Wife!Reader (NSFW multi-chap, 🌶️)

everything the world can offer - Returned to Mariejois Celestial Doflamingo x Civilian!Reader (NSFW, one-shot or multi-chap, tbd, 🌶️)

your saint - Returned to Mariejois Celestial Doflamingo x Doflamingo’s Wife! Reader (NSFW, one-shot, 🌶️🌶️🌶️)

butterflies and daffodils - Mariejois Raised Celestial Doflamingo x Civilian!Reader (NSFW, one-shot)

For these other ones, I’m mostly struggling with deciding how Reader reacts to Celestial Dragon! Doffy, depending on their history or lack of it, and it also depends whether this is Never Left Mariejois Doffy or Came Back and was Accepted Back Celestial Doffy. Those two are vastly different 🤣 I want to write a naive Reader but also Reader who is aware enough of how CRAZY Celestial Dragons are but then you get to that fear/dread factor once more and deciding how much of that to describe bcs what if they’re childhood friends, would that fear factor burst its head out regardless of their history? Would Reader just be appeasing Doffy while also still letting her guard down and just interacting with him like nothing’s changed?

(Sighs) I am overthinking myb a bit too much? Who knows...

Also, making this tag game for artists, too, same rules apply if the artists are comfortable with sharing their art wips as in the title of the art wip they’re working on!

Tagging @moonbaby26 @daydreamer-in-training @ohnomyhooves @skullfacedlady @tuquidflamingo @veroinfaciem @magnoliandew @wrennyx @darklordofcutlets @sugarpsalms @allmightskitten @froggiewrites @queenmimi2817 @ladycrocy @saracrossing02

[sainz100]

2024 Singapore GP | x

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[sysig]

Pivotal bright spot (Patreon)

[cream-and-tea]

SORRY for doing even more pallasposting (<- not actually sorry) but a fun thing about planning for the rest of the gravespeaker trilogy is the realization that pallas actually gets much more bitchy as they start 2 heal. bc like. for most of the the first book they are doing Dissociation Station Level 9000 they are doing “brain fog is to light a term it’s like silent hill in here” they are doing ego death speedrun they are so disconnected from themself that they interpret literally every single emotion they feel as negative because the act of Feeling itself is so wildly uncomfortable that they react to it like a hypothermia victim being dunked into boiling water (<- dying). and all of that goes a long way towards making it hard to express their personality which—crucially—includes the fact that they r annoying. so fucking annoying. absolutely irritating. ungodly petty and spiteful. a hater to their CORE. pallas self actualizing and using everything they’ve learned and how they’ve grown to be a little bastard at a level previously unseen by man they don’t even NEED the horrifying bloodflesh magic anymore they can just enter every fight like “your coat is ugly your shoes are tacky your parents must have never loved you or else they would have taught you the meaning of fuck around and find out you fucked around cutting those bangs and now you’re gonna find out” and kill their opponents that way instead ❤️

[evilkitten3]

having some thoughts on itachi and radicalization and how people can do the most horrific shit imaginable while fully believing it's the right thing to do and police states