#cemetery scene my beloved

[momowoah]

Eddie asking himself how could Buck be the same after the lightning strike and wondering if that means they lost the something that they had before. Telling Buck "Experiences like this, they change us. So what changed in you?" during the cemetery scene knowing full well that what changed for him when he died was that he realized he was in love with Buck, but that wasn't what changed for Buck. After being told by Buck that he feels like Natalia truly sees him. Eddie's death pushing him towards Buck and Buck's death being the reason why Eddie decided to pull away, because Buck didn't find it out and he thought it meant he didn't feel the same. I'm unwell.

[lover-of-mine]

[verlaineszz]

ᯓ★ CEMETERY LADY! MY CEMETERY GIRL! ~

( ၴႅၴ+ —YANDERE!NIKOLAI GOGOL! x YANDERE!ZOMBIE!FEM!READER!

SUMMARY: Your name.. Written in beautiful dark crimson red ink, a psychopathic clown has taken a liking to a lady. A lady that he found so utterly beautiful, a beauty of imperfections that nikolai found oh so perfect. But a tragedy has struck him, before he could continue his obsessive motivs and plans, bang! You were dead, but that didn't stop you from laying on your casket. you had unfinished buisness, which is your undying love and obsession that made you crawl out of limbo and find your beloved once again.

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ— DEAD DOVE+ ROMANCE + YANDEREAU! + SUGGESTIVE! + SMUT! (seperate maybe, i might make it but it will be linked in between the scene when its starts, you may find it at @heartz4verlaineszz, my freak acc)

MDNI!!

A/N: mutual yandere btw! Nikolai was already obsessively inlove with reader when reader was still alive and this works to reader too, reader has always been obsessively inlove with him too, also possessive reader and nikolai :P and this fic is shorter than my other fics

(art by CREATNZY)

๋࣭ ⭑♡WARNINGS! : suggestive, blood, yandere themes, swearing, obsessive themes, collecting of each others belongings, initial skin ingraving, pet names (Moya Lyubov (my love), Moya pitchka(my little bird), milaya (sweetheart))

Ah, love. Something foreign to nikolai, not until he laid his eyes on you. What a beautiful lady! Your imperfections had him infatuated with you, to your personality and to your hyperfixations, how cute.

Everything was going so well for nikolai, he stalked all your posts. Checked up on your phone history by hacking into it when you had your screen protector replaced for being too clumsy and dropping it.. He also went as far on stealing your clothing and buying the same perfume that you wear.. It was eating his heart away, the thought of feeling you near him made him just wanna squeel and giggle uncontrollably. Not until he heard you got into an accident and died.. He misses you so baddddddd!

Your funeral was being held soon, he sighs and lays on his bed with his hand on his forehead, not really having motivation to do anything. What shall he do now? He doesn't have a purpose anymore really.. To be frank, his life objective was to be with you. With you gone.. He thought that if you're gone now, might as well meet you in the afterlife as well.. But, not yet. He has to feel you at least once, even if you're already dead. He sits up with his back slouched, lookin around his room, fully decorated with candid pictures of you and a big shelf with your belongings, to your used plastic water bottles, lock of hair displayed in a gold picture frame with red wallpaper, your bras, shirts, makeup, jewelry.. Anything that you've touched really.. He smirks after seeing your stuff, he stands up and grabs your shirt and bra before stuffing his face in em, laying back down on his bed and sniffing your faint scent, "mmm", he mewled out before sighing and sliding your shirt and bra off his face.. His expression bored and numb, he missed you so much, he would be lying if he said he wasn't devastated. He hasn't eaten all day since normally he'd be stalking you at this hour.

He eventually sits up after hours of whining and smothering your used shirt and bras with his face. He thought at first that now your dead, he'd finally be free.. Oh but he was so wrong! The thought of not watching you and never being yours pained him. More than the thought of him never being free. It made him wanna dig his nails into his skin and scratch the meat off his bones off!

The grandfather clock on the wall ticking made him feel more restless, he slides his shoes on before leaving his place. The walk to the place where your casket is was no biggie, he kept his expression was bored and a void as he walked, different than his usual excited and smiley expression. As he reached your funeral, he stays behind the trees for a while, alot of your family members and friends were still crying and wheeping as they surrounded your casket, your burial was just a few days away, he still has time to make you his cemetery baby.

A few hours later, nightfall came, your family members and friends have finally came home! Leaving your body and him outside. He smirks as he stood up from his hiding spot and walked over to your gorgeous fuckin body that was laying peaceful in the casket. He lets out a few giggles, his eyes filled with excitement, his fingers twitched to touch you, he sees your pretty face taking it into his hands and caressing your cheek before leaning your head back, noticing how they didn't even try to put on the correct makeup style you liked. He quickly applied some lippie that he stole from you a few weeks ago, changing your lipstick before quickly kissing you hard. Chuckling into the kiss softly before setting your head down gently, your body was a little rusty so he had to be extra careful with his beloved.

"Ah.. There you go, you look more you now.. How stupid of those people to not know what your lip color preferences are." he talks to himself while staring down at your face,mocking the way your own family didn't even put on the correct lippie on, slowly lacing his hand to hold yours. Your hand cold as ever, he smiles to himself, kissing your knuckles.. Noticing how cold your hand was compared to his warm large ones. "hm.. Its okay, I'll warm you up!" he whispers and giggles, his eyes half lidded but filled with hunger.

He kisses your knuckles slowly before sliding in a ring to your ring finger. A beautiful red ruby gem, a red that was red to be the same shade of your own blood. He smiles sweetly at your calm face, the smile radiating a sense of insanity and obsession to it while he caresses your hair and cheek sweetly, "Moya ptichka.." he whispers sweetly as he gives your hand another kiss with his eyes staring at your eye shut face, "This isn't goodbye, I'll see you once again, milaya."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

At your perspective, your soul was still stuck at limbo, unaware that nikolai was already giving you what you craved for. Limbo was tough. Fog and mindless spirits everywhere, it made you irritated at how lost you were, but of course nothing was ever gonna stop you from digging out of your grave and watch him again.

Now.. Back to nikolai. It was already the next day, he only came to visit your body at night. Where nobody was around. It was the last day of your body staying on land before you get buried 6 feet below. He brought a few things with him, a dagger, a locket filled with his and your hair and some other questionable trinkets.

The foggy and dark night could be frightening for some, especially at the cemetery. But not for him, he brought a lantern to see your face just in case! As he ran over to your casket with an undying hungry smile, he jumps in joy in seeing you up close again. "Moya Lyubov!" he takes your hand gently, it was his last day on meeting your body physically. He snaked his hands to your hand, kissing your knuckles once again before tying a red ribbon around your wrist to mark you.

His gaze was pressuring against your unconscious body, the fog and darkness surrounding you and him was unbearable, the only light source around was his lantern that he brought that illuminated his hungry gaze and your gorgeous face.

A tune in his head played, an urge to hold you close and waltz in eloquence to prove how much he adored you. Though your skin was rotting piece by piece, your cheek stayed fresh as ever, he caressed your cheek in obsession, "still forever soft for me."

The fog and darkness really gave nikolai an advantage of not being seen, one of his hands slowly snaked down to your thigh, pushing your dress up and squeezing it with hunger, "The world has been so cruel to you, milaya." he whispered, talking to himself while you struggled in limbo to leave and see him even while you were dead. "But.. Even in death, you belong to me." he smirks, a smirk that could've haunted lots of individuals but it was also a smirk that was meant for you. For you to remember and burn into memory.

A few hours has already passed, with him just sitting on the edge of your casket and holding you gently while talking to himself all obsessed like he was talking to you. "Even if death make us part, you'll forever still be mine."

He caressed your cheek, holding you gently to avoid hurting your dead body, "Remember when you first started wearing that lipgloss and that perfume? Oh you are a gorgeous little thing. I couldn't stop staring! You were perfect just like how perfect you are right now." he talks to himself again, giggling and remembering how you smiled when you found something funny, another reason why he wanted to have you as his dear lady. Your looks just add to your eccentric and unique dear personality you know?

With the last few hours of the night fell down so the sun could rise, he held your thigh tightly, "Moya Lyubov, im sure you wouldn't mind having a symbol of me with you forever right?" he giggled, slipping a dagger in his hand, "This might hurt.. Apologies in advance." he whispers near your ear before slowly but surely engraving his initials on your upper thigh, gently wiping the blood of, whispering apologies and cooing, obviously you felt nothing since your soul was still at limbo. "Mm..you're so pretty. I'm sorry it hurts milaya." he coos at you, caressing your cheek and giving your thigh a quick kiss before covering you up again with your dress.

he quickly leaves the dagger under the pillow that was cushioned below your head, a symbol of him giving his dagger to you. he slowly slid the locket with his hair and your hair around your neck. As the daylight rose up, he kisses your forehead before slipping off after hearing your family members talking and their heavy footsteps.

He slips off to the nearby forest, waiting for your burial. Time passed as he got in disguised to look more like your..friends. Your casket was about to be buried. affirmations filled his head,

"I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,"

he repeats in his head like a mantra, he takes a step near your casket, dressed in black suit,white jabot with a red ruby brooch and his hair all inside in his black top hat to conceal his long braided hair. Everyone stared at him, assuming he was one of your close friends since he held a dark red rose. Your casket slowly lowered down into the 6 feet deep hole, he throws the rose to your closed casket, "Death will not end us or stop me. We will be reunited milaya,"

At your point of view now, you successfully escaped limbo. The limbo that had a blueish tint, fog, mindless spirits that has been driven into insanity from how long they have stayed in limbo, and the murky floors that made you feel all icky at the sensation of sludge. In an attempt to leave this foggy void your will and unfinished business on earth gave you the strength to escape and return back from the dead.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

A few days has passed, a rotting feeling ate nikolai alive, oh god he needed to see you. His heart was beating so fast, only thinking about you whenever he gazed at the grass or that photo of you sleeping in your room. A photo that he adored so dearly. He thought he'd go off fine and be free but this thought of having your body with him eternally wouldn't seem like such a bad idea..that's why he packed a shovel. 2:55 AM, he snuck off, running to the cemetery on where you were buried. He slowly stood on top of your grave, extending his arm to get something from his cloak. He tapped his foot as he grabbed around before grabbing out the shovel and a lantern. He sets the lantern down and began to dig rapidly.

Pants and huffs and the sound of soil thudding could be heard, he digged and digged before hitting a "clink!", your casket, the sound of his metal shovel and your casket clanging, he smirks, sweat beading off his forehead, he sighs and let's the shovel go, letting his ability to push you into the land above. "We'll be together again Moya pitchka!" he laughs, Panting with a love dazed expression.

He sticked his tongue out in concentration as he pushed your casket into the portal, as he successfully got you on land, he wasted no time to open your casket, only to find that your body was gone.

Nikolais eyes widened, what happened to his lady!? Even the dagger he hid under your pillow was gone! He places his hand under his chin, thinking on who could've kidnapped your body. Nobody was around your grave for the past few days, who could've done it?

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻ 𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Back at nikolais house, you were running into the woods, his dagger in your hand and your dress dirty from the soil that you climb out of, a few stumbles and runs you reached his place. With a quick climb of a window and expecting to see him, you found the house to be empty. You scratch your head and sigh in dissapointment, quickly moving back to ur apartment to change and quickly sneak back in to his room, so far so good. Nothing has changed. It was weird how you have never seen him sleep on his own bed. You look around, looking at his weird trinkets before reaching his closet, opening it and collecting some of his clothing before tripping on one of the gloves that fell to the floor, "oh-!" you land with your face against the wall of the closet before hearing the sound it made. It sounded like..it was hollow inside. You quickly stand up and dusted yourself, with a knock to test it to its fullest, you find a socket. You put your fingers in the rectangular socket, pushing it to the side to reveal a staircase, you smile proudly after seeing this, has your dear nikolai have been hiding a secret room? Perhaps it was a room full of more of his stuff. You waltz down the stairs, singing a soft tune, your voice having a hint of curiosity as you mutter to yourself, "Now now, i wonder what this room could b-! Oh."

You expected the room to be filled with more of his stuff, either it be more of his hats, clown makeup, guns, and other trinkets you can "borrow", you find yourself staring at the things that You own. The walls a dark crimson red and rosewood floors, and tons of big wooden shelves against the walls, all containing each of your missing things. Your lacy bras, Your used lipsticks , your panties, shirts, gloves you worn, used pillow cases, your pens, the old phone you had. You get the point. The walls were adorned of hundreds of candid photographs of you, one of the bigger picture was in gold frame. a picture of you sleeping and Nikolai in the corner as if he took a selfie and printed the picture out to have it all framed and pretty..Then you realized,the bedroom that you've been stalking and watching was just a decoy.. A decoy to hide his undying obsession of you.

you looked around the shelves and seeing the tons of bottles of your favorite perfume distracted from the feeling of your beloved nikolai having an infatuation of you,large hands began to wrap around your waist "Oh.. There you are milaya." he whispers into your ear,pressing your back against his chest,a haunting sweet smile spread across his lips as he leaned closer to you snaking his free hand to grab your hand "You're not supposed to be here you know?.." he pouted sarcastically before laughing "Moya pitchka don't run away from me..You can see how much I adore you." he whispered, his voice cooing and desperate while he was caressing his hand to your waist then down to your hips..your breath hitches as you feel his touch. Your gaze brightens up, letting him touch you freely, "Oh.. Hello my dear kolya." you gently taking his hand.

he grabbed your hand back swiftly,he quickly spins you around,your back hitting the wall and his knee in between your thighs..He had a hand on your hips tightly.. tight enough to leave a bruise on your skin You gasp at the impact huffing from the tension you've been caught. But you just can't help but enjoy this moment.. he had a hand on your hip and his other hand on your thigh,gripping it tightly and huffing, "I missed you so damn fucking much.." he kissed your neck, huffing and holding you tightly as if you would dissappear if he loosened his grip. "You wouldn't understand how much i love you, it hurts milaya." he whispers into your ear in between his soft neck and collarbones kisses, his kisses always changing into soft and gentle to rough and desperate.

You look down, not resisting but rather wrapping your arms around his neck, the dagger he left you in one of your hands, the blade was near his pulse, close enough to end his life before you sweetly say, "But i do understand. I missed you too." with those 4 words falling from your lips,his eyes widened. You weren't frightened or screaming like he thought you would, his wide eyes changed into a smile, a cheeky hungry smile. Perhaps this was a new reason on why he adores you damn fucking much.

He quickly pressed his lips against yours roughly, gripping onto your thigh and waist tightly, "Oh, baby, You dont know much i need you." he says in between kisses, slowly sliding his large hand around your inner thigh, lifting your thigh up, his other hand on your waist to support you standing. His voice turned into breathey, his voice evident with need and desperation, his grip on your thigh tightening, as if you were gonna disappear again if he loosend his grip, "Please.. Please, milaya, let me show you how much i adore you." he panted out in between kisses desperately, you huff and you gripped on to his shoulders, the dagger near his neck falling onto the ground, clinging and thudding from the fall. He leaned closee to your ear, whispering sweetly, his voice sweet as honeydew but breathey and desperate too. "See? I told you death wouldn't keep us apart.. Now.. Let me show you what dreams are made of."

A/N: lol idk if i should write the smut part, just comment if you want it, also.. When i was first and originally writing this I ACCIDENTALLY DIDN'T SAVE THE DRAFT SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT ALL AGAIN.. ACCORDING TO MY MEMORY.. GRRRRR.... but anyway, enjoy!

[eularin]

I was watching some scenes from Naruto, and then I saw the one where Obito summons the Kyuubi in the cemetery, apparently next to Rin's grave and I was like "WTF you crazy? Right there next to your crush's grave? What the hell man" and then I remembered that Obito always does things with some justification (every villain does), but it is Canon that Obito likes to prove his PoV to others, and also to himself. So I asked myself: why the hell did Obito summon the Kyuubi near Rin's grave? What could he be thinking? And I came to the following conclusion:

He wanted to prove to Rin, and to all those other dead ninjas who probably sacrificed themselves for Konoha that their sacrifice was in vain. Obito's story, and especially Team Minato's story, is about sacrifice, promises, and tragedy.

Obito sacrificed himself for Kakashi (and the Team) bc he thought it was the right thing to do and the most important thing. He was more loyal to the team (his friends) than he was to Konoha (am I the only one who noticed that by going to save Rin, Obito basically abandoned the Kannabi Bridge mission?)

On that mission, Obkk made his promise, Kakashi gained his Sharingan, Obito "died" believing that by joining his power with Kakashi's, it would make them stronger and in a way invincible to protect Rin (his precious people) so of course the cruel world and cruel destiny proved to the two that the sacrifice and their promise were worthless.

When Obito finally realized that his shared power with Kakashi was not enough, and that Rin's loyalty to Konoha far outweighed her loyalty to the Team, Obito had a meltdown (another meltdown). I can reflect on Rin's character later. Let's focus on Obito.

When Obito chose the graveyard to summon the Kyuubi, he was making a strong statement. He literally wanted to tell Rin (and the other ninjas who sacrificed themselves for the good of Konoha) this: "hey Rin, look! You killed yourself to stop a Bijuu from destroying Konoha, but your sacrifice can't stop this Bijuu now. See? No sacrifice is worth it. You only delayed the inevitable. You died for nothing and without meaning" - Obito must have been very angry with Rin and Minato. At least I think he was.

During the 4th war he was literally mocking Minato and his acclaimed speed. Basically he was saying "there's no point in being the fastest man in the world if you don't arrive at the moment that matters most", and I don't think he was referring to the Kannabi Bridge mission. So there's that weird conversation where Obito tells Kakashi that Rin is an impostor?!? I don't remember that dialogue anymore (I watched it with subtitles, so I really don't remember what I read years ago)

the only thing I understood was "Rin killed herself, so she's not the real Rin, she's just an impostor that this world created!" – Obito is so... crazy? logical? delirious that I couldn't keep up (I always rewatch the 4th war arc)

also, i'm thinking about it 🤔 i think obito might have been bitter towards Minato bc out of all team 7, Minato was the only one who got along in the end. get my drift: obito "died"; kakashi and rin were devastated and minato probably suffered too, but the anime only shows kakashi for most of the whole story, suffering much more. (unfortunately, the anime shows almost nothing of Rin and her personality. she's portrayed as... idk, easily disposable background character. we don't see anything about her dreams, her struggle to be a great ninja, we don't see her other friends or family... she's almost an empty character, even though she's important to the story of two big prominent characters.)

So back to the main focus: Obito "died"; Rin and Kakashi suffered, then Rin died and Kakashi was left to wallow in his guilt and pain, then Minato went and put a traumatized child in the ANBU. And we know that Obito was already spying on all of them. He certainly didn't like seeing Minato being a beloved hero, enjoying his laurel leaves after the war, so he fulfills his dream of being Hokage, marries his wonderful Kushina, plays house and has a child. In other words: Minato moves on while Obito doesn't (and Kakashi doesn't either). I bet that made Obito pretty angry. I can imagine his anger at Minato's good life. So he went there and ruined it all. 💁🏻‍♀️💀

Well, that's it. That's my theory (?) about why Obito summoned the Kyuubi at the graveyard that night.

So, what's your take on this?

[therantfairysblog]

The final meeting

✍️ note: let's talk about sanemi and giyuu heart to heart convo post their final hashira meeting, the 21 trio and their beloved comrades too ❤️

Spring 1920s. The final hashira meeting. The end of hundreds years of sacrifice and legacy of a demon hunter's corps.

And them being the last hashira ever stood in the end. Both of them didn't moved yet from their place after kiriya and his sisters concluded the meeting. Sitting there reminiscing their days as hashiras and comrades.

"...you have anywhere to go after this?" Shinazugawa started the convo. It's turn awkward as they both arent even friend at the first point.

"... I'll go to the cemetery, i thought it'll be okay to tell them about the meeting" Tomioka getting up from his siting. "....you want to go too?" It's a hesitant invitation from him, but tomioka feel he need to opened up first to him. He was aware how his own attitude causing a lot of misunderstanding between them. He still feel a bit of regret with the fact that he never clearing his misunderstanding with Iguro.

"yeah, i want to see genya too"

....

A nice spring wind caressing them as they pay respect for the fallen heroes, their comrades, fought with them alongside to defeat muzan. The memories comeback, swirling with the fresh scene of banter and laughter among them like a movie scene.

In front of Iguro's grave, Tomioka sit a bit longer than usual. After he offering his prayer, he talk to shinazugawa."i wish i know him better like you do, Shinazugawa"

"....to be honest there's much that i dont know about him. He didn't really talk a lot about himself... I'm surprise u actually care about him" shinazugawa moved beside him, putting a nice warm bitter tea as an offering, his bestfriend favorite drink.

"i never hated him."

It was a little silence in between them. Shinazugawa watching iguro's marker and talk to him " iguro, i thought tomioka aren't that annoying after all'" he chuckled a bit. "he's a funny fellow"

Tomioka looked a bit confused.

" hey actually, what do you mean by the statement that you are not like others, like us? Watching u always alone piss me off to be honest. It as if we are dealing and talking with a huge statue. It's great that kanroji and kocho doesn't mind about it" shinazugawa sipping his tea.

It's take a while but Tomioka started to open up his story of him, Sabito, and his reason to join the corps. The spring breeze slip in between the silence. Shinazugawa didn't interrupt at all.

"... I'm really sorry. It's too late aren't it, its my own selfishness. I wish Iguro didn't hate me this much. I wish i could ask him forgiveness." Him watching his comrade's grave with a heavy heart. Thinking about it, he didn't even bother about fixing it. And all was too late in the end.

".... I don't think he'll hate you that much, especially if he know about your story. You two actually similar in a way that it's funny. Well after all, people are dealing with their hardship differently. I think Iguro will understand, right iguro?" A sudden breeze of wind seems to answer him. Shinazugawa smiled.

The two having a nice convo and telling their comrades about the disbandment of the corps, joking about their unemployment, as if all of them are there, in a peaceful dinner, talking about their respective mission, their tsuguko and their hatred for demon.

Perhaps it's the time Tomioka feel included, and how he feel a little lighter after he told them everything about him.

For the living two, live must still go on and perhaps, this time their relationship will become much better.

"uzui san inviting us to his home next Sunday. You want to come together? I heard he will become a father soon." Tomioka asked him while they walking away from the cemetery.

"well yeah, why not."

[tellmegoodbye]

I mean people are always going to have different opinions on these storylines, right? I'm not too upset with what we got because I wasn't expecting any Tarlos interaction this episode anyway but I understand people who do have criticisms. I don't think it has to be a bad thing.

Of course! Everyone is allowed to feel however they feel, but I'm just sharing my thoughts here. I really liked it, and I wasn't expecting a Carlos centric episode to focus more on Tarlos so I wasn't disappointed at all!

You could also argue that we got more resolution here with Carlos saying he was ready to be a father and that he's going to tell TK, as opposed to Push with that hostpial to loft jumpcut. And yet that episode is one of the most beloved in the whole show, so all I'm saying is that less direct Tarlos interaction does not inherently make the episode bad.

The arc as a whole felt very cathartic, and the cemetery scene was a beautiful way to wrap up the episode! We see Tarlos walking away together and we know they're going to have that conversation later, we don't necessarily need to see it on screen to know how it goes. I felt the same way about not seeing the resolution in Push. It's certainly partly due to time constraints, but it's also not a bad thing. I will be writing the fic whenever I get some time on my hands!

[wanderingwomanwondering]

Today’s buddie obsession brought to you by the s6 cemetery scene. I did a rewatch, now I’m unwell.

Buck noticed that eddie was feeling some type of way at the grave, so he offered comforting words. He tried to care for eddie’s heart but didn’t see that eddie wasn’t at ease (metaphorically he couldn’t breathe in that moment, something more was sitting on his chest!!)

Eddie noticed that buck wasn’t at ease and tried to reassure him that he doesn’t have to be anything but himself but eddie also *eventually* realized in the scene that he’d missed some important feelings that buck had been having about the lightning strike.

Eddie has learned to spot when buck can’t breathe (aka be himself) and buck has learned to spot when eddie’s heart needs a beat (aka emotional support), but then they both (to varying degrees) miss when the other is dealing with something that they think is their strong suit! Eddie missed buck’s deeper heart/feelings about dying and buck missed eddie’s lack of ease/comfort with himself in the cemetery. I read that scene as a lack of ease/comfortability on eddie’s part because he started off being open about his feelings (fear of dying alone) but quickly shifted to focus on buck’s needs. He was metaphorically out of breath…in a cemetery…looking like death. Buck didn’t fully catch that something deeper and important was going on with eddie.

The trauma of buck’s death made their communication in the cemetery difficult, because they both have big unspoken feelings about it and about themselves by extension. As others have said, and I agree, buck and eddie were talking past each other in that moment. But interestingly they were still somehow talking about the same thing.

Eddie was talking about his fear of dying alone. Earlier in the episode he was with Chris at Shannon’s grave and Marie said what she said before she died so it makes sense that eddie would be thinking about these things. What feels (mildly) extra is how clearly he wore the weight of those feelings during the scene??? It only starts to make sense because eddie was literally standing next to the person who’s recent death has been weighing on him the most. The actual person who he lost and couldn’t imagine his life without. But that person is talking about another LI, feeling seen by that LI and feeling unable to see himself…or eddie’s emotional turmoil.

Buck was talking about dying alone too but in a more roundabout way. He was exploring the power of feeling seen and understood. While standing next to the man who spent years in a marriage where he wasn’t seen by his partner or by himself. While standing next to eddie as the embodiment of the kind of living death that sets in when a person feels entirely unseen in a way they want to be seen! Buck talked about natalia with hope and awe because he felt seen by her which made him feel alive and energized. Meanwhile eddie looks like he’s dying during their entire conversation! He looks pale, distressed, he’s drowning in his clothes, he’s saying words but barely talking about himself, he’s deferring to buck because buck is the only breathing person complete with a heartbeat in that scene!! Buck being lost/misguided aside, he’s still feeling like he’s on the right path and grateful to be alive to explore it, but eddie doesn’t seem to come to life or catch a second wind at any point in the conversation.

Then we have the grave itself. Marie Ellis is the woman whose grave all of this happened at. The name Marie is a variant of Mary and can mean many things. One of the popular meanings, “beloved”, stood out to me. I think what eddie buried in that cemetery was his hope for a romantic relationship with buck 🫣 Shannon’s been gone for years and eddie seems to have peace on that front, if his conversations with chris are any indication. Tía Pepa encouraged him to date and he was relieved when Vanessa said she wasn’t ready to date . In my brain all of the above makes eddie’s glow-down in 615 all the more pointed! He was in mourning, burying his hope for something with buck and trying to accept that he’d need to find a different path to romantic love.

The second name meaning for Marie that jumped out at me was “bitterness”. That one seems relevant to the way the scene played out. Before eddie understood buck’s feelings, frankly he seemed annoyed. He was frustrated that buck was dating natalia. He used the excuse of her being from a call but buck’s s2 gf, Ali, was from a call and eddie didn’t have any objections to that. Taylor was technically from a call and eddie said nothing about that (even though we KNOW he didn’t like her). Eddie was either reading history and cautioning buck against falling victim to his old pattern and/or he was full-on fishing for a reason to discourage buck from dating natalia specifically.

Tbh I know it’s a long shot but I think eddie knows that he has or is developing feelings for buck and he was finally starting to admit that (to himself at least) then buck fell into natalia’s arms. I think it was a double whammy for eddie that buck felt truly seen by her after just five minutes; I can’t get over how shook eddie looked after buck said that!! It wasn’t until after buck revealed that he felt seen and didn’t know how to be with everyone else and that he didn’t feel like he was the same person after the lightning strike that eddie accepted it and resigned himself to the idea that he doesn’t have a chance with buck. Hence eddie’s constant parade of mournful glances between the distance, buck and marie’s grave!! Bonus points to the writers because Marie also has meanings connected to the sea, and water was a constant theme in s6.

Hopefully I’m not completely delulu. I’m sure I missed stuff and there’s always more to say but damn that cemetery scene had a lot going on!!

[violetszone]

Iris Flowers

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: You and Ollie had been dating since secondary school and everyone was envious of your perfect relationship. But not everything was as perfect as it seemed.You had a terminal illness, and even though Ollie was always with you, your body couldn't take it anymore. On your birthday, a year after you died, Ollie came to visit you.

WARNINGS:terminal illness,very angst, death,cemetery,not edited writing

A/n: I literally cried while writing,I hope you will like it

You and Ollie have been dating since secondary school. Everyone around you talked about the perfect harmony and bond between you. Everyone wanted that "fabulous" relationship. Of course, you weren't that happy behind the scenes. Since childhood, you've had a heart condition that's gotten worse as you've gotten older.

You knew this disease had fatal consequences. Ollie knew too, but he always tried to support you. He tried not to let you quit, doing everything he could to discourage you if you tried to refuse treatment. Of course, it was very difficult, especially from a young age. It was even more difficult to fight them.

And you were tired, in your heart and in your body. Your pure heart that couldn't take any more stopped beating one day. It was so hard for Ollie to process your death, not to mention getting used to it. The shock he felt when he got the news made his heart stop when you died. Everything started to feel very difficult. It was very difficult for him to live and breathe.

Of course, as the days progressed, Ollie had to move on with his life, and you'd want that too. But he never forgot you—you were his soulmate, you were his everything. For a while, he was just devoted to his work, and the people around him were worried about him, but it was all he could do to stop thinking about you.

But there was a special reason that Ollie was standing by the grave with iris flowers in his hands that day. It's been a year since you've been gone, and today is your birthday. Ollie knew how much you loved iris flowers. He left them on your grave and stared at the sky for a while to keep from crying. "Happy birthday, darling. I am here. I brought you your favorite flowers. Just like these flowers, I wanted to give you some comforting news."

Ollie tells you what he’s been up to lately. He bluntly talks about how hard it was to get over you. He says he’s been trying to keep his promises to you. Tears fill his eyes as he speaks, and he struggles not to cry. He misses you so much that it makes his heart hurt.

"I don't want to lie to you, Y/N. I feel like a piece of my soul has died. I tried, I really tried, but no matter how much I tried, it always seemed to make things worse. I throw myself into work, but I know I worry the people around me. But it doesn't work without you." He sniffed. "I wish you were here."

Then he thought of what you talked about before you died. "Remember when you asked me to date someone else to replace you? I think I'm going to be single for my whole life," he chuckled to himself. "There's not a single soul that will ever replace you. I hope you know that, wherever you are."

"My beautiful angel, thank you for...for all these beautiful years. I just wish I had more time to spend with you. I'm sorry I was always far away because of racing. I'm so...sorry." He couldn't hold back any longer and started crying. Now he needed your hug more than ever. Then he felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see an old lady smiling slightly as she handed him a napkin.

The old woman looked at the grave as Ollie thanked her and wiped his eyes. "You seemed to love her so much. May I know who she is?" A soft smile formed on Ollie's face as he looked at your grave. "I really do, she's my beloved." The old woman looked sadly at Ollie. "Sorry, it must be very hard for you." Ollie glanced briefly at the woman, then back at the grave. "It is. She was everything to me. I still feel like I'm just waiting for her to come back."

The woman rubbed Ollie's arm and slowly walked away. A white butterfly landed on your tombstone, causing Ollie to smile. He knew your soul was with him somewhere around here. "My beautiful darling, every time I can come to you, no matter how hard it is, I will bring you these flowers. My sweet paradise, please don't suffer any more wherever you go, or I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone." He put his hand on the ground of your grave. "I love you, darling. Happy birthday again. I will come again soon." Before walking away, he took one last look at your grave and remembered you as you were, holding the iris flowers in your hand, because you always wanted to be remembered like that.

[ancientprettythings]

The well-known grave monument of a woman named Ampharete, which was found in the Kerameikos cemetery in Athens, also shows a seated woman holding a baby. That stele has a rare inscription that sheds light on the meaning of the scene:

My daughter's beloved child is the one I hold here, the one that I held on my lap while we looked at the light of the sun when we were alive and that I still hold, now that we are both dead.

[Source]

[writing-with-emy]

Changed Prophecy

Dean Winchester Masterlist | The Alchemy Masterlist | Add yourself to the Taglist Chapters: 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Wordcount: 5.586 words

Prompt: “These Hands had to let it go free and change the prophecy.”

Summary: Your and Deans story is a bit weird, since you both don't live the average Life. so the reason behind you two meeting, realising you are in love with your best friend and actually confessing to it have the same background. Hunting down things to kill them.

A/N: I actually wanted it to be out on Dean's birthday a couple days ago, but now here it is!

cw: English isn't my first language, No use of Y/N, Small age gap? (It’s like a couple of months), John Winchester, stealing from a gas station from a horny middle aged dude?, implication of the reader sexualizing herself to survive, loss of children in the past (not readers, just from people in the 18th hundreds), my horrible fight scene writing, Out of character Dean?, my poor medical knowledge, swear words

 2002

Being Friends with Dean was probably one of the wildest things that could have happened to you, but you wouldn’t change that for a day in your life. Even though you only saw each other sometimes when he was on a solo hunt without John by his side, where then the “Solo Hunt” wasn’t so much Solo anymore.

1997

You met Dean a couple years back in 1997, freshly 18 year old Dean with his gifted 1967 Chevy Impala which was originally owned by his dad, driving around the small Town he and John stayed in for a Hunt. Well what does “driving around mean”, more like, driving to a meet up spot John had set with a fellow Hunter and Dean being finally behind the wheel letting the moment slowly sink in his mind. Finally he got his Dad’s beloved car, John in the Passenger Seat and Sammy in the back.

At the Diner John had chosen to meet the other Hunter, whoever that might be, the three got out and went in and followed John to the Spot he saw the other Hunter sit. When the Hunter saw John he stood up, and with him also you. Dean's eyes immediately went to you, well you were a sight for sore eyes back then already and Dean couldn’t deny that. That Hunter turned out to be your father, he had been longer on the trail of the three girls haunting St. Augustine Lighthouse.

You five sat down in the booth your father picked out, you started to tell the Stories about the Sisters and the unknown girl who died on July 10th of 1873. To your father's luck, you were the one who has the most information in your Journal of the past couple of weeks with the ghosts of the St. Augustine's Lighthouse and the Keepers House, especially and mostly three ghost girls- They were out of line for being nearly 119 years dead. It was the typical Ghost stuff of vengeful spirits, trying to get their last stuff done but failing everyday. Yet the girls started off as joyful little girls playing hide n’ seek with people and not getting revenge.

You explained the lore to the Lighthouse and the Keepers House, being matter of factly that three of the Pittee Sisters back in 1873 loved to play in the Cart that helped bring supplies from the boats to the construction site when the Lighthouse was rebuilt by their Father.

“Normally there was a wooden board at the end of the rail, but on that day it was missing. So the Cart with the three Pittee Sisters and the unknown girl, got off the tracks and fell head over into the water. A worker named Dan Sessions saw the event and helped, but by the time he got the cart off of them, Mary and Eliza were dead along with the ten year old girl.”, you retold the story of the ghosts. “But weren’t there four girls in the cart?”, Sam asked with furrowed brows. “Yes. Carrie, the youngest of them, was the only survivor of the accident.”, you stated. “Do you know where they are buried?”, John asked more to your father than to you. “Yes, well for the Pittee Sisters, they were buried at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery in South Portland, Maine.”, your father answered to John. “What about the other Girl?”, Dean asked. “Well we don’t know her name, nor where she is buried. It is speculated that her father was a construction worker when the Lighthouse was rebuilt, and supposedly her name is either Ellie or Eleanor but there is no real evidence for that either.”, you answered.

Long story short? John and your father sended you and Dean to find the graves of Mary and Eliza, while they and Sam tried to find the other girl's grave. You didn’t really want to, knowing that the drive from St. Augustine, Florida to South Portland, Maine is nearly a twenty hour drive and you don’t really feel like being on a day-long road trip with someone you just met.

Dean wouldn’t be so excited either, if you were a boy, but having a pretty thing like you in his passenger seat for the next twenty hours is a good consolation prize for missing all the action here. So against your own will, you gathered your things from the shared hotel room with your Dad and made your way to the Impala. You said short goodbyes to your father, before starting your trip with Dean to Maine. The trip was actually a lot more fun than you would’ve thought, he wasn’t as Bad as you thought, even with a decent enough music taste for your liking. Two hours into the trip, you stopped at a little Gas Station to fill up the car, you waited next to Dean talking a bit about past experiences with hunting and School before making your way in.

“Wanna see something?”, you asked him with a smirk. “Sure, what is it?”, he asked. “I bet I can get at least two things out of there without him noticing.”, you said and stopped Dean, pointing to the middle aged man who’s hair had probably seen a shower ten years ago. “Yeah and how would you do that?”, he asked, raising a brow and giving you his signature smirk.

“He looks like he has seen real tits the last time when he was maybe twenty, if even.” “That means?”, Dean continued. “What do you want?”, you simply asked. “Planters Cheez Balls.” “All right.”, you smiled. Without a word you pulled your zipper from your leather jacket down, before bringing your Top a bit down, so that the cutout on your top just showed enough to distract the guy so he wouldn't notice you taking something.

Without a word you and Dean go in, Dean directly to the register to pay and you are looking for some snacks. Secretly you put some things in your pockets, while also checking that there are no security cameras on you, but luckily to you there somehow were none.

Afterwards you go to Dean, standing close to him, while at the same time distracting the guy at the register and as it turns out you were right. After no time of you bending over a bit, he was immediately distracted by your breasts. He was distracted enough so you could put some things in Dean's Jacket Pockets without him noticing. With one easy hand movement you told Dean to get out, you shortly went after him, the Dude not taking his eyes of you until you sat in Dean’s car with you both driving away.

“I can’t believe that worked.”, he said, while taking out two packages of the Cheez Balls he wanted. “The magic of being a girl, even though that dude was worse than some other guys I met.”, you laughed a bit, while pulling your shirt right. “You know, you were actually so talented to be right there when I needed to Pay.”, he stated, taking his eyes shortly off the road looking at you just to see you eating Nestles Butterfingers. “Well, those are my wonderful survival tactics I found while being on my own sometimes.”, you said smiling.

The rest of the Road trip was spent talking about how you two became hunters, somehow getting faster comfortable with each other than planned. At the End of the Hunt, aka shortly before your ways parted you and Dean exchanged numbers with each other promising to at least somehow try to stay in contact after that Hunt.

2002

Well a couple years later and you actually have done the thing and kept in contact. Over the past five years, you have seen Dean mostly when he decided, or was told, to go on Solo Hunting Trips. As said these trips weren’t always Solo, he just sometimes picked you up from your current place when you were close or you guys met in the middle and continued together. Just like today, but mostly because you were for the past two years on your own with hunting, while Dean still goes around with his Dad from time to time. Just as today after your finished Hunt you called Dean if the offer still stood with accompanying him. The Hunt was mostly another Salt and Burn from what you gathered in the short calls with him.

So when Dean turned up in the front of your Motel, you opened the trunk and put your bag beside his, before going to the passenger side and plopping in. Greeting him with one of your famous smiles he more than he let on adored.

“Well there is the Birthday Boy.”, you grinned at him. “You didn’t forget.”, he said, knowing that you would probably not live that down for today. “Well no, why would I forget the Birthday of my Best Friend?”, you smiled at him, while he started the engine.

While yes, Dean was your Best Friend, you also couldn’t deny the little tug in your heart when you said it. Finding out that you are in love with your best friend was a wild ride. The Hunter life wasn’t easy, fighting quite literally for life and death everyday of your life, but sometimes stuff like that couldn’t be stopped.

The realisation for you was actually on a hunt in Missouri in the wonderful year 2000, shortly after everyone thought the world was ending. The Ghost of an old Janitor, who lost his life during a fire in 1920, was out of control attacking actors and performers of the theater. During the research of the incident in the local library, Dean found some old News article about the fire in the theater, where it was written that the fire was supposedly started by a boiler exploding and then spreading to the cole bins. After he called you over, you bent down a bit behind him to read over his shoulder, putting your head on it better to say. It wasn’t unusual, as you two were more than once on a hunting trip together without your Dads. And if not, you somehow sometimes found a way to bring your Dads together for a Hunt so you guys had an excuse to spend time together. Both denying to feel something when Sam tried to play the card of one of you guys having feelings for each other. But even though touches like that were common between the two of you, you couldn’t deny that it felt a bit different this time at least for you.

You were more sure what that feeling was when Dean was slammed against one of the Walls in the theater from the Janitor. You both knew what the plan was, he was the distraction, you burned whatever was left from the dead Janitors Items he owned, but seeing him getting hurt this time somehow was more painful than before, you pushed it aside searching for the Item and then burning it finally. When you went back to the Motel, you helped him patch up and even though his body hurts like shit from getting slammed into a brick wall, he still decided to go out to a bar and pick up some girl he will meet. His reasoning being that it was probably the last time where he gets the chance to use his Fake-ID, since it isn’t long until he turns twenty-one. So you let him, spending the time alone figuring out what exactly happened all of a sudden in you to feel for Dean that way. Well in short it was fast to figure out, when you thought about Dean being with another girl and what maybe is happening now between them. You were in love with your best friend, which isn’t necessarily bad, giving you circumstances of being hunters it is. Things like that could cost your life, according to your own father.

Well two years later and your hope of the feelings going away was smashed with whatever is possible.

“So where are we going?”, you asked, looking at Dean with Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album playing in the Background. “Dad found something in Jersey, a simple salt and burn, at least that is what it sounds like.”, he said while driving away from the parking lot of the Motel you were at. “Let me guess, you don’t really think it is that easy?”, you added. “Was it ever that easy, sweetheart?”, he shot back with a smirk. “Touché, Buttercup.”, you commented.

He shot you a glance at the nickname you gave him, but all you did was smile innocently. You knew he hated it, but you couldn’t resist calling him by that name since you catched him watching Powerpuff girls that one time in the Motel room you guys were sharing. His defense though is that nothing good was on the channels and he at least wanted to watch something that is not boring.

In New Jersey you guys settled in a Motel, going directly into research Studies. It was the usual, people seeing or hearing stuff, some weather stuff, people going missing in the Pine Barrens. Going into the lore more you fastly found out that the “simple salt and burn” was something more the longer you stayed there.

You found out that the woods are actually, according to folklore, haunted by the Jersey Devil or also known as the Leeds Devil.

“What does the lore say about that Jersey-Devil-thing?”, Dean asked, after coming back from an FBI trip to one of the victims' families. “According to the people, folklore says that a woman named Deborah Leeds, also known as Mother Leeds, had twelve kids. After she found out that she was pregnant again for the thirteenth time, she cursed the child out of frustration. She declared that the child would be the Devil and on a stormy night in 1735 she birthed her child. It first was Human but later on transformed into a creature with hooves, a goat’s head, bat wings and a forked tail.”, you read your notes out loud for Dean. “So we have to do it with the child of a witch?”, he asked. “Well in some versions yes and the devil himself being the father, it is believed that local clergyman later tried to exorcise the creature from the Pine Barrens.”, you continued while standing up from your spot on your bed where you were sitting. “Okay, so we have a possible demon turned child from the 18th century?”, Dean exclaimed while opening his tie. “Well either that, or a myth that has manifested itself over the hundreds of years the story has been told.”, you explained. “What?” “Well, I dug a bit more into the whole Pine Barrens story. These woods had Gangs of Highwaymen, like Loyalist brigands, here who used to rob and attack travelers passing through the Barrens. The residents in the 18th and 19th century here were also deemed the dregs or outcast of society because of poor farmers, fugitives, brigands, native americans, runaway slaves and a bunch more. Pineys started to tell frightening stories about themselves and the Pine Barrens to keep outsiders and intruders away from them and the Pine Barrens. The people were then more demonized and vilified after two false eugenics studies were published during the early 20th century.”, you continued. “Wow, that makes it so much better.”; he mumbled while shrugging off his suit jacket. “Pretty much.”, you added. The next couple weeks are probably going to be fun.

Lucky to you guys you found out faster than you thought how to fight the Jersey Devil. As it turned out, the child of Deborah Leeds, existed and was born disabled the child sadly didn’t live for long before passing away. The rumors started fast after the passing, from some people who thought Deborah was a witch, even though she was not, to demonizing her and her child in other ways.

“You know, the story is pretty sad actually.”, you admitted while walking besides Dean. “Imagine birthing a child, the child being born disabled and dying because of it, just to be then made out as the Devil's kid and your mother being framed as witch or sleeping with the Devil.”, you continued. “Well, the people of the 18th Hunderts are some sick fucks. Especially since her Father-In-Law, seemed to be an asshole.”, Dean added to that.

Once you reached the well hidden and kept secret Leeds house, you started searching for the unmarked grave of the child. When you found it, you started digging it up which was probably your least favorite part about hunting. While Digging you started to hear noises from the woods around you, you paused and looked around thinking you were able to see something, but nothing and that again and again each time you heard something. Once you got out of the grave with Dean's help, you started to Salt the body of the maybe 1 year old child lying beneath you. Totally distracted in your thoughts, because of the faith that a child's soul took just because people were evil, you didn’t notice something coming at you and before Dean could interfere you were smacked away against the brick wall of the House ruins. Dean shot fast with the Shotgun filled with Bullets of salt to at least get rid of the Jersey Devil for a short time to go and help you up.

“You alright?”, he asked, concerned. “Yeah, shit- I will most definitely have more than just a few bruises tomorrow.”, you groaned in pain, pressing a hand against your temple. “Yeah, well that thing got you good.”, he stated. “Thanks sherlock. We should hurry, before that thing comes back.”, you noted before going back to the grave.

You got to empty the Salt box before it came back, this time you were able to dodge the attack, shooting your Shotgun, so it was gone again.

“Listen you burn the Body, I distract him, got it?”, you asked. “No, no you are not playing the bait here.”, Dean argued back, stopping what he was doing. “Well apparently, that thing is after me right now. So what do you expect? I’m not letting you do that.”, you argued back. Before Dean could bring an argument back, the thing came back to attack you. You put your Shotgun up to put another bullet through it, but nothing was coming.

“Shit!”, you yelled. “What?”, Dean yelled back. “My gun is empty, I forgot to reload the Bullets.”, you yelled and tried to think fast, you could still use the Gun, just with swinging, but the Gun part of it is steel and not pure Iron so that falls away. “What?! I- Here take mine, I only have like three bullets left.”, he yelled back while throwing his Gun over to you. You catched it and fired another Bullet at the Jersey Devil.

Two Bullets left and Dean is currently putting fuel over the Bones, you tried keeping a look out for the creature, but that thing had you faster on the ground with his tail than you can look. It stood over you, but before it could harm you another bullet went through the body making it disappear shortly. Well it wasn’t a fan of getting shot with Iron bullets and salt, so it just got angrier. If that was even possible. Not even two seconds later, you got again thrown against the wall of the House, letting the gun fall in the process. The forked tail of the Jersey Devil this time came at you with an inhuman speed, just to give you three major wounds across your upper body. You honestly made peace with the idea of dying that way by some weird Goat-Bat-thing with a tail, but before it could attack you again the monster went up in flames, releasing a headache giving scream.

The next thing that happened was you falling to the ground, trying to stop the bleeding with one Hand while looking up seeing Dean standing in front of the Burning grave, looking mad, probably the maddest you have ever seen him in the five years you have known him. You probably would have continued adoring him, if there were not the aching in your stomach area with three long wounds that are currently bleeding like shit.

“Dean, as much as warm that fire may be, I would really appreciate some help here.”, you moaned in pain. “Shit yeah, sorry.”, Dean immediately ran over to you, helping you up, which you only commented with a groan since the wounds burn like hell.

You guys started to walk back to the Impala, but on the way you started to get more limb because of the pain. “Hey, wow sweetheart. Come don’t give up here, yea? We’re nearly there.”, he said, while supporting your body more and more. “Mhm, yeah. I’m just starting to feel a bit tired.”, you mumbled, not really walking anymore while your vision is slowly drifting from clear to blurry. “Hey, no no no: Stay awake, you are not falling asleep alright? I need you to stay awake.”, he said, you probably would tease him by the way he starts to panic while watching your eyes close for a couple of seconds each time. His mind raced probably faster than Baby could drive, while at the same time picking you up bridal style to sprint to the car, and shortly making the decision to bring you to the nearest hospital.

When you woke up, you didn’t notice Dean sitting next to your bed, in the same clothes he brought you in that still had your blood on them. Dean also didn’t notice you waking up squinting your eyes at the bright hospital lights, his leg bouncing up and down, thoughts eating him up because of what could have happened.

“Dean?”, you croaked looking to where the sounds came from. “You’re awake.”, he said in awe, looking at you. You nodded slowly. “Wait, I’m going to get a doctor.”, he mumbled, before getting up and leaving.

You looked out of the window, seeing you were still in the same small town and while recalling the last moments before you passed out in Dean's car, he and a doctor came in with an extra nurse. “Well, good morning Mrs. Bon Jovi. Glad to see that you are awake.”, the doctor said, while you shot Dean an unnoticeable glance. “I panicked.”, he mouthed. “How long was I away.”, you asked with a slight raspy voice. “Well, with the blood loss and the concussion you had based on your accident. Two days.”, the doctor stated. “I’m gonna get some water.”, Dean said before going out of the Hospital room. “Do you remember what happened?”, he asked you. “No.”, you stated. Which was a lie, but you couldn’t really tell the doctor that you were fighting the Jersey Devil because you wanted to get rid of him. “Well, according to your Husband who hasn’t left your side for the past two days. You had an accident, or an attack with a wild animal who did that to you.”, He stated the facts. “Well if my Husband said that, it must be true.”, you joked, giving the Doc a small smile. “Well, I can see that you can joke, which is good.”, he said, returning the smile.

Dean came back with the water right before the doctor could say more, handing the water to you so you could take a sip.

“How long until she is released?”, Dean asked, sitting down. “Well, we would like to keep her for at least like another day or two. Keeping an eye out on the stitches we needed to give her and to see if she got any more complications like from the concussion.”, he said, while giving Dean a short glance before focussing back to you. “Well thank you then, is there anything more we need to know?”, Dean asked, and if your Head wouldn’t hurt right now, you would have said that Dean sounded a bit jealous. “If the patient hasn’t got anything I’m pretty much done.” “Only a bit of a headache, but that's the only thing.”, you said while laying your head back into the pillow. “I’m gonna let that do the nurse, alright?”, he asked, pointing to the nurse checking the vitals in the back. You just nodded, just now noticing that the Doctor is probably just a few years older than you and pretty handsome actually. “Good, then I will see you later.”, he said finally with a smile and a small squeeze to your hand that was lying on the Bed. You returned the smile, before looking back to Dean noticing a look on him you have never seen before. “Are you alright?”, you asked as soon as the doctor left the room with the nurse. “Yeah, totally.”, he grumbled, taking a sip from his coffee cup. You muster him from top to bottom with a small smile on your lips. “You look like you haven’t slept for the past two days.”, you mumbled, before taking your cup of water and drinking something. The water feeling nice in your dry throat. Before Dean could say something the nurse came back in to give you the medication against your headache, when she left you spoke up again. “You should change.”, you stated matter of factly. “What?”, he asked, like he just got pushed out of a deep thought. “your clothes, you’ve probably been sitting here for two days in blood dried clothes.”, you mention. “Oh, yeah. Uhm I actually got our clothes here.”; he pointed to the two duffle bags on the ground. “Okay, then go shower I’m fine alright?”, you said looking at him. You could see that he wanted to argue back, but instead he chose to actually listen and go shower, probably finally feeling the blood dried clothes sticking to his skin.

When he came out of the shower you opened your eyes again, seeing a fresh but still tired looking Dean. He put the clothes in the duffel bag before returning to the Chair that has also been his bed for the past two days.

“Can I ask you something?”, you started quietly, disturbing the sound of the TV which was at the moment playing Scooby Doo. “Sure.”, he answered. “Why didn’t you leave? I mean, your Dad is probably mad as hell at you for not being back already.”, you stated matter of factly. “Yeah, well here was something more important than going back to hunting with my father.”, he mumbled, not tearing his eyes off the TV. “I’m not important Dean.”, you said. “What?”, he asked, looking at you. “I’m not important, Dean. It would have been alright if you would have left.”, you answered casually. “Wow, hold your horses here. Who told you that?”, Dean asked. “Dean, this life we live kills us probably before we are 60. THere are more important things than me or anything.”, you argued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, he fired back. “That I wouldn’t have been mad if that thing we fought had killed me, or at least the complications afterwards.”, you argued back looking at him. “Don’t you dare say that ever again.”, he stood up from the chair with a force that kicked the chair nearly over. “What? It is the truth. It’s like a prophecy that you can’t change. I spent twenty-two nearly twenty-three years hoping that something would change in some way, shape or form, but that isn’t going to happen. I will probably die alone somewhere, because some demon bastard is better than me. I have given up the fact that I will never find a Partner to get married or have kids with, I feel like l am a fool in a fable, Dean. Fuck, even my Dad said that I was giving myself too much hope and that nobody wants people like us, like me, not even people that share the same life.”, you blurted out with tears building up in your eyes, blurring your vision. “Your Dad is full of shit firstly. Secondly, there is most definitely a guy out there who wants you. I mean, who wouldn’t? You are probably the best person I have met, you’re probably the only one that somehow seems to not get pushed down by the shit they see everyday. You’re so fucking strong and I hate that you can’t see that. You are so much more than you think you are.”, Dean argued back, his body getting tense. “Why do you believe that?”, you asked, a tear escaping your eye. “Because you are my Best Friend, that's why!”, he snapped back. A little humorous smile turned up on your face, while you turned your head away from him. “Why are you smiling? What’s so fucking funny?!”, he demanded from you, looking at you in disbelief. “Your Best Friend, huh?”, you mumbled, voice lower than before. “Yes, you have been my best friend for the last five years! If you can’t remember!”, he snapped back. You just nodded, drying the tear that streamed down your face.. “What?”, he looked at you, not believing what he was hearing. “Nothing.”, you just said, trying not to blurt out the truth. “What is wrong? Tell me.”, he demanded. After not answering and him bugging you to know what is wrong you finally snapped. “I am in fucking love with you! Alright! Are you happy?”, you finally answered.

That was definitely a deer caught in the Headlights moment for Dean, well for one, you just confessed your love for him, for the second he doesn’t know how to answer that in words more to say. Which is why he does the next best thing, surprising you in the moment. He kissed you.

Well that was new, even though you had seen and imagined that happening, nothing could have beaten the real thing. Dean's lips on yours moving against each other, was definitely something that only happened in your dreams, but ten times more intense in real life with his hands on your cheeks. Even though you wished you guys first kiss wasn’t in a hospital with you in a Bed, but at the same time nothing probably could ever compare. Every moment has to end at some point, so even though you and Dean would love to stay like this, air is something you both needed.

“Don’t ever say that again, you are important, alright? Because you have no idea what you mean to me.”, he muttered just a few inches away from your face. To stunned from the Kiss you just nodded at him. “What cat got your tongue?”, he teased. “No, but a certain green eyed asshole does.”, you teased back with a smile on your face. All Dean could do was smile and reconnect your lips with his again, savoring the moment in all the ways he could.

“You know, I think you had enough hours of sleep on the Hospital chair, come here.”, you said when you parted, sliding as good as you can a bit to the side on your hospital Bed. Even if Dean would have loved to protest, he honestly couldn’t sleep another night on that uncomfortable chair.

He laid down next to you after kicking off his boots, making himself comfortable on the side next to yours. When you silently snuggled closer to him, to put your head on his chest, he put his arm around you, hand resting on your waist, while the other hand went to yours on his chest.

“Is that okay?”, he mumbled, not knowing if lying like that is in any way uncomfortable for you. “Yeah, the pain medication they gave me is actually pretty strong.”, you mumbled, looking up to him. “Alright then.”, he smiled at you, what you returned. “And sorry for what I said a couple minutes ago actually, I was just honestly frustrated with everything.”, you admitted after looking back at the TV. “It’s alright, we all have been there.”, he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, thumb slowly brushing over the back of your hand. “Thank you for not leaving. You know?”, you mumbled looking up to him. “Believe me I would have kicked myself in the ass if I would have left you in this situation. Nothing was more important than that in the moment.”, he assured. You smiled and pecked his lips shortly, before putting your head back down on his chest. “You know that you're not getting rid of me now, right? Even though I need to admit your look of Jealousy earlier, it was priceless.”, you snickered. “Well first off, if I wanted to get rid of you I would have done that five years ago. Secondly, that Doctor? He was flirting with you.”, he defended himself. “Well, he is handsome from what I could gather.”, you started. “Thank you for that.”, Dean immediately said. “Hey, let me finish. But he isn’t you. No one could ever be or beat that.”, you finished your sentence. “Better stay true to that Sweetheart.”, he grumbled, which brought a giggle out of you. Even though Dean tried to look annoyed, you could hear and feel his heart skipping a beat after you said that.

A/N: This is way longer than I wanted it to be, but research about haunted places was way more interesting than I thought. If some Sam and Colby fans are reading this, I unconsciously picked the St. Augustine's Lighthouse without realizing that they went there a while ago. (the Jersey Devil was done on purpose). Anyways, to the Jersey Devil, the part with the 13th child being disabled and then dying because of complications plus manifesting as the Jersey Devil  was completely my idea for the plot. Deborah Leeds (according to my research) never had a 13th child, and if she had one it was either a stillbirth or a child with a disability which died. But Fun Fact, all three Hunts are based on real Places for the people who don’t know.

Taglist: @lieutenantchaos

[creature-of-delerium]

My beloved mutuals (who I know that I'm mutuals with) I present to you a challenge:

Drop three of your favorite songs at the moment

Anyway, tag time

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt @dildofart @dragoninahumancostume @fillthedarkvoid @gloriousvermin @geewaysgreendayhoodie @gently-decaying-flowers @just-a-pinecone @leahpardo-pa-potato @lostlosersclub @myorgansaremelting @nerdypagan1 @possiblyeldritch @thylocalbard @tailsmillion @thethinkingaurora @wolfythewitch @wylloblr

[androgynousblackbox]

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 9 [Radioapple, Appleradio]

"Mmm? Oh right, I still have to do this.

I mean, good morning, dear friends! How are you all waking up today? Refreshed up? With a load of new energy to carry and face a new day? I truly hope so, because a day like no other is exactly what we are going to get.

But don't let me too ahead of myself. As any cooker know, you must let the food simmer for a bit, to cook on it's own juices, before hastly just gorging it out like a pag. And here, in Hazbin Vale, if there is anything that we have is class. Manners. Patience.

We have waited for so long, dear listener. We can take it as calmly as it comes.

Last night I am sure some of you noticed a distinctive lack of moon and stars on the cloudless sky. And if you didn't, well, now you know!

If any of you had ever bothered to pay more attention to it, then you would have also realized that stars systematically have been falling from the sky for a while now, one by one. It was actually quite an impressive view, but my, my, everyone is so busy right now that nobody was outside admiring the espectacle.

Truly a pity. When the end comes, the least you could do is watch.

I saw it all from here the entire night. I didn't want to risk it. As it turns out, desk of studios make for a horrible bed! Who knew!

But I am told to tell you all to not worry at all. Carry on as usual. The sun just looks bigger than normal and less warm because of some astronomic mambo jambo nonsense I do not care at all, so you shouldn't either. What we have above our heads, dear listeners, and also right under our feets, is so beyond our understanding that sometimes we should avoid questioning it at all.

The cemetery and community center are from today both open. Everything is out in the open now. There is absolutely no place to hide. You might satiate your insatiable curiosities to your heart's content all that you like without any concern. If you are ever so lucky, you might find that a nice surprise that will make it quick for you.

Interpretate that as nasty as you want if that will make you stop being a stain on the surfice of the earth, listener.

The cave on the outskirt of town has finally cave in. Oh, we do have to admire how much it managed to stay as it was for, well, for even longer than I have been alive. That is quite impressive. Let's give an applause for the rocks that gave a valiant fight, the broken beer bottles and the blood shed as a result.

I told you all that could happen, didn't I? I just happened to pass by while seeing some hungry raccoon trying to get themselves a bite before the police arrive. Somehow a hand was sticking out from under the rocks and it was still moving! The human body is truly a wonderous mystery. Just the amount of abuse and torment that it can withstand is enough to make a man smile.

It didn't last long, of course. Raccoon will make sure of that and you know what they say: the fresher, the better! But a good effort nonetheless.

I have also been informed that our transmission of today will last for as long as it needs to be. That's right, as far any of my dear beloved listener is out there left to listen, we will keep transmitting to your satisfaction and joy.

Don't try to turn off your radios. It won't work.

The only time we went out of schedule like this was when the kindergarten burned down after that teacher was killed by an ex boyfriend. Do you all remember that? So many people screaming all around made it difficult to speak, but it was a fun moment all the same. The one and only time that we used the portable equipment to be right on the scene and report you the last updates. Don't you miss it sometimes, dear listener, when things were a lot more simpler?

Oh, but no disaster of that nature is what is happening today. Of course not. Today is a normal and common day like any other. Don't pay attention to the sun, that must have gotten bigger since the last time I talked about it. Suns do funny things like that sometimes, everyone knows that!

Ah, but I am afraid that we won't be getting any guest or calls for today. I had Niffty ripping the phone line off after… certain someone tried to call in. I am sure they would say that they were just trying to solicit some song or something like that, but no matter, nobody can do that now! It's just Niffty and me here on the good old studio for the entire day, and Niffty has gone up to her attick again so it's only just me!

A one man show. As it was always supposed to be. And aren't we all lucky that man is me?

I just have some curiosity left, listener. Do you feel that anything is different at all? Did those teenagers that were looking to hang out in the cave? Did they felt like a peak on the electricity in the air, some kind of static that puts all the nerves on high alert for the potential danger that it can't even behind to fanthom? Or was it just the sound of one rock falling to the ground, after another, before everything else was on top of them?

The only thing I lament is not being able to ask them. Not even the owner of that solitary hand would have been able to say anything, not with a broken jaw like that. Not that I saw their mangled body or anything. I was, and I always am, nothing but a respectable model citizen so I just took a look and made my way straight here, to do what was asked of me.

You are welcome, by the way.

There is a window here, did I ever mentioned that? I can't imagine in what context that would have come out, but regardless, there is. It offers a lovely view of the main street that goes to the end of town, right before the hallway opens up to empty wastelands in direction to the next civilization. I can see everyone who comes out or comes in if I wanted to.

I usually keep the curtains extended over it because, let's face it, outside of the rare crash or manslaughter of those who didn't looked both ways before crossing the street, not a lot of interest to be had there. Been good at road safety has always been one of the few flaws of this town, sadly.

Up until now it has been rather peaceful. Not a lot of people who were planning to go out to the nearby town to maybe visit grandma on her birthday or were planing to go pick their stranged daughter at the airport. But I hope it will pick up at some point in the morning. The day is young and we have so much time to enjoy it to it's last second.

The sky getting slighty darker might give you a wrong impression of the time, though. But rest assured, your watches still works perfectly fine. The only issue is that I can't see the sun from here. This building cast a long shadow from this window.

Has it started to smile yet? If not, don't worry about it. There is nothing to concern yourself with. It's when the eyes open that it's truly interesting part begins.

Oops, I wasn't supposed to say that, ha ha! Spoiler! My bad. Please ignore it as you go about your normal and completely irrelevant day.

Let's instead just remember how wonderful and great our town is. We used to be a great tourist center, a convenient space between other cities for people to stop by on their way. One where people find joy watching our huge ball of yarn, that it was mostly filled with styrofoam and twig before yarn ever came into the equation.

We had that adorable bowling alley with the greasiest pizza anyone could eat with it's own karaoke on the side. The businesses were thriving. There was so much things to look at and play with back then. Our young weren't constantly leaving to look for bigger opportunities elsewhere, only to waste years of education in careers they are never going to take.

But things change, don't they? They get stagnant with enough time. They become boring. Predictable. And that might be the biggest tragedy of it all. What is life, I ask of you, dear listener, if not a constant symphony of screams all in perpetual crescendo until it's dying end? How else a man is supposed to know that they aren't truly dead yet without it?

There is just no end to this. This is all your life has been and all everything will ever meet you as. For some weaker minds this can be frightening, paralyzing even. They let themselves become part of the scenary, another potted plant on the corner that does what it supposed to do, because I guess that is easier than take control of their own lives.

For others, this might be just the push they need to finally learn a few new tricks. So you study and you work and exchange words with the right people, others who also refuse to just let the monotony kill them silently.

And what if you have to step on a few toes? It's not your fault that they didn't wise out before. And what if some of those toes fall out or get crushed like mashed potatoes under your feet? That at least is something new.

And the new starts are always so exciting, dear listener.

Your journey begins where it was supposed to end. That is an exhilitaring thought not many get to have.

If life won't give you lemons or oranges or apples or anything at all, then you carve into the ground with your own bare hands until you find something, covered in mud and your own blood from the nails that are ripping apart from your skin. You grip it as tight as you can despite the pain, despite the burning sensation that is chipping at the soul you didn't know you had, and won't let go until you make it your own.

You let it grab onto you and take what it needs to survive. You feed it, you protect it, you do whatever is necesary so none of you ever gets forgotten again. You form bonds you never expected to make before becuase it's either that or come back to how things were before, to the sad, dull, predictable nature that you had to escape from.

They promise you that you will always have an ally on your side even if this chapter ends. No matter in what new book are you thrown into or how much you change, that constant hand on your shoulder will never abandon you to remind you of where you come from and where you still have yet to go. It will follow you more loyally and closer than your own shadow ever could, even in total darkness.

The only thing that it ask in return is that you keep it well fed for as long as you exist. The bottom of it's stomach is neverending like outerspace itself and, let's be honest, you are never going to fill it. Which basically garantees that you will always have a new beginning to find more food. You will always a new playground to have fun with even if you already burned down the previous one. Completely consequences free. The only thing remaining being your own memories of it and you can fill it with as many screams as you want.

Doesn't that sound just ideal, dear listener? Who wouldn't shake hands with a promise such as that one?

Ah, but for now, I will leave you for a moment with the weather. I have to take a look outside, I can't resist the curiosity anymore.

See you soon."

[lover-of-mine]

your post about how eddie fell first is literally what made me follow you last year 😄

i know you said you’re enjoying the time before the show might… well, squash the theory… but you never know! it could be the reveal/pining/slowburn of the century!

what are your theories for if they don’t go that route? eddie didn’t know all along?

I love that you followed me through that post because I feel like that one really sets the mood for the madness you're about to experience following me kspakspakpakapaka

No but can you imagine, revealing that Eddie has been in love all along and aware of it for whoever long they decide (I know I say even all the way down to the lawsuit could work and that the shooting was his oh moment, but my guess if they ever went that route it would be post breakdown, like, he figures it out and accepts between dumb luck and starting over, so confirm he was pining during all of season 6) and then make Eddie canonically explicitly pine as Buck dates a guy who's literally him in a different font? What kind of fanfic bullshit would that be? I would die, like legit. Buck being bi almost made me call my psychiatrist to adjust my meds, Eddie being in love with Buck all along confirmed would put me in a psych hold kspalapalapopkspsk

That being said, if they are going there with buddie, which I'm 90% sure they are, since Buck is fully unaware of the Eddie of it all and Eddie is about to have problems with Marisol, you can have Eddie watch Buck with Tommy and be like "I want that", especially when it seems like they'll focus a lot on being soft and fun and something that just makes Buck happy, and then be like "oh shit do I want Buck?" Because they never really saw each other in a happy relationship, so that can absolutely spark something for Eddie and Eddie wouldn't need something as on the nose as being grabbed and kissed by Buck to realize he loves him, yk? So he can be longing for what they have, even more if he does break up with Marisol before he finds out Buck and Tommy are dating, and then have him be like oh fuck. Because even though I strongly believe Buck needs to make a move, the show needs to explicitly state Eddie's interest in Buck before that happens or else you risk people saying it came out of nowhere or it's just repeating the bucktommy start. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if there was something like Buck and Tommy dancing at the wedding, and Eddie watching them, and you just see the progression happen on his face (that Ryan would BODY because the way that man can make you feel exactly what Eddie is feeling without saying a single word amazes me) and then we enter a pining era that eventually would evolve into a mutual pining era and eventually getting them together. But my guess right now is not that Eddie is gonna be jealous, it is that he's gonna be longing, and that will lead to him finally being like oh! for real.

Fantasy scenario though, is the reveal that Eddie has in fact been aware of it at least throughout all of season 6, settled into the fact that Buck was "straight" and he had to move on, now has to pine as he watches Buck with a guy he has so much in common with, and not do anything about it again not because he thinks Buck can't feel the same way, but because Buck just doesn't want him and is happy, so he won't mess that up and take the secret to the grave. Especially if you consider the way you can totally frame the cemetery scene to make it seem like Eddie thinks Buck "broke up" with him (cemetery scene my beloved 🫶), you have him double down that feeling, "I'm still not what he wants, that doesn't change just because he's attracted to guys" and you have him try to figure out what to do with it since moving on didn't work he and he would want to be as supportive as possible because Buck is still Buck and he is his person and he wants Buck to be happy, all while trying to figure out how to be happy with himself, and while Buck and Eddie work on their friendship (talk boys, please, I'm begging). Then Buck and Tommy break up, Buck and Eddie almost die together in the finale and we have a buddie cliffhanger to close the season (drown Buck 2024 I will always believe you) and buddie get together at some point during the beginning of season 8.

Also, can you imagine the CHAOS if the show gave us bi Buck and buddie canon on Eddie's side within a week of each other after only 5 episodes in the network? We would LEGIT break the internet. And I would owe everything to abc lol

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

Before Sunrise: Film Locations

"If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.”

In celebration of Before Sunrise's 30th anniversary, I revisited my film location pilgrimage around Vienna in the summer of 2016. It's one of my favorite movies, I have loved it since the first time I saw it 24 years ago, so following Jesse and Céline's footsteps was almost like walking on sacred ground.

(Photos were taken with a Fujifilm X100s and colorgraded in Adobe Lightroom.)

Zollamtssteg Bridge - this is the footbridge where the pair get invited to watch a play about a cow who thinks it's a dog. "I am the cow," one of actors says proudly.

Albertina Museum - on those steps is where Jesse recites WH Auden to Céline. "The years shall run like rabbits," he starts off.

And just on a nearby balcony is where they talk the night prior.

Club Roxy - this is the club where they grab wine and glasses.

Cafe Spérl - Jesse and Céline have their faux telephone conversation in the rightmost booth, in what has got to be one of the most romantic scenes in film history.

This café has been around since 1880 and is on the Austrian Register of Historic Places. It's still popular today, beloved for its traditional ambiance.

Teuchtler Schallplattenhandlung und Antiquarität - this is the record store where the pair listen to Kath Bloom's 'Come Here'. I lost track of time in Café Sperl so by the time I got here, it was unfortunately already closed.

Kleines Café - this is the café where Céline has her palm read.

Wiener Riesenrad - "Are you trying to say you want to kiss me?" Céline asks Jesse, helping the guy out. That's the giant ferris wheel they were on.

Wein Westbahnhof - behind this unique statement of support for the LGBT community is the train station where Jesse and Céline get off midway from Budapest to Paris. Unlike most of the locations used in the movie, it looks totally different now.

Friedhof Der Namenlosen - this is the Cemetery of the Nameless and although the film made it seem like they just passed by it, it's actually in the outskirts of the city.

The scene starts off here, with the pair entering from the left side of the chapel.

"I always liked the idea of all those unknown people lost in the world," says Céline in reflection, thinking of the people buried all around, identities and deaths a mystery.

[aprilblossomgirl]

flower/plant in dramas

Prompted by the conversation I had with @colourme-feral about plumeria and jasmine being featured in the first episode of I Feel You Linger in the Air (and also, plumeria was featured in KinnPorsche during the scene with Khun Spikes our beloved), I was tempted to write this post. Honestly, I always love to see how flowers or plants or even parks (not theme-parks) are used in dramas. Flowers and plants give visual localities and in many cases it's a part of natural and cultural elements of a place where the drama is set. And for me, it is always interesting to see how people 'place' their priority on parks, or to some extent, forests, through a piece of media; are they treated just as a side / decorative elements (as an escapade, or simply a break, destination, maybe), or as center stages? (Sorry, I was once an architecture/landscape architecture graduate and still, until today, have this default interest towards these living elements -- tropical flowers and forests my beloved! --, and since I LOVE watching my Asian shows, how they were presented there - will I always write about them, though, that's another case.) So, I am thinking of making some posts about flowers in dramas (specifically in Thai dramas). As I focused more on the Southeast Asian context, I might miss some facts about of the flower(s) from the perspective of other regions, but hopefully I didn't leave out anything significant.

part 1 - plumeria/frangipani

Plumeria (or also popular as frangipani) is a genus of flowering plants native to the Neotropical areas (including Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean, Brazil, and Florida in the US) but had been spread throughout the warm tropical regions as ornamentals. I'm not going to list its different types of species but given that Plumeria is known more as a common name, here's a list of how the flower is also called across Southeast Asia's region: Frangipani, Cempaka, Kemboja, Bunga kubur (Malaysia); Kamboja (Indonesia); Kalachuchi, Kalasutsing-puti, Kalasutsing pula (the Philippines); Lan-thom-khaao, Lam-thom-daeng, Lee-laao-dee (Thailand); and Dai (Vietnam). Please feel free to correct me if you see any of these names to be wrong.

There's no clear evidence on how and when exactly the plants came to Southeast Asia, however, two temples in Indonesia (one built in the 9th century and the other in the 14th century before the European came to the region) had the flower trees depicted in their relief.

In Southeast Asia, both the flower and the trees of Plumeria are considered sacred. The flower is strongly associated with religion and temple life in both Hindu and Buddhist cultures, for examples, it is used by the Balinese Hindus in their temple offerings.

The Plumeria is also linked to ghosts and graveyards in the Philippines, Indonesia, and Malaysia where the trees are often planted at cemeteries both to give shading and to function as signage. Bunga kubur, one of the known names of Plumeria in Malaysia, literally means cemetery/graveyard (=kubur, or kuburan in Indonesian) flower (=bunga). Locals believe that the flowers give shelter to ghosts and spirits. In Malaysian-Indonesian folklores specifically, the flower's fragrance is even associated with a certain type of mythological creature that is a vampiric spirit (who likes to hang out on the trees), thus the flower often perceived as bad luck.

However, on the other side, Plumerias are also commonly used as ornamental plants in houses, parks, parking lots, and other open area as part of the elements of modern landscaping.

This interesting article compiles five interpretations of Plumeria flower meaning across various cultures, those are: (1) Peace, joy, and warm welcomes; (2) Openness to new relationships or loyalty to existing ones; (3) Ties to death and immortality; (4) Fertility, rebirth, and femininity; and (5) Medicinal healing powers.

The article above, with additional information taken from here, said that in Thailand, the way they would say Plumeria (ลั่นทม / lân-tom) was similar to the word for 'sorrow', or 'gloomy, sad, and depressed' (ระทม / rá-tom). This might be why the flower had a negative meaning to the people or community in the past and considered an unlucky plant. However, this perspective is changing and now Plumeria (or Frangipani) has a new name that is ลีลาวดี / Lii-laa-wá-dii/Lee-laao-dee.

Lastly, here's another article that talks more about Kalachuchi (another name for Plumeria) flower.

the flower in dramas:

KinnPorsche -- Remember our Khun Spike. Plumeria flowers here were used as offering or signage on top of the grave.

I Feel You Linger in the Air -- A Plumeria flower here was used as a prop, depicted falling from the sky onto the top of a plate of jasmines. It might hold some symbolisms: a welcome, an openness, or transfer of 'spirit' or soul across the time dimension.

Next, I plan to write about jasmine (Part 2) and hibiscus (Part 3).

Sources: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] and the book "A Field Guide to Tropical Plants of Asia" by Engel & Phummai, 2008.

[introvertllux]

Whispers of Redemption (Chapter One)

Genres: Action, Thriller, Romance

Warnings:

Graphic Violence

Intense Action Sequences

PTSD and Trauma

Emotional Distress

Age Gap Romance (John is in his mid-40s, Sera is in her late 20s- early 30s)--> Will have the ages solidified in the story to make things more clear (might have to make John younger I read they wanted him to poetically be 35 years old).

Word Count: 4,689

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any rights to John Wick or anything related (Just my OC! characters).

Chapter one: Aftermath and Peace

The sky over New York City was a somber gray, a fitting backdrop for the mournful scene unfolding at the cemetery. Winston and the Bowery King stood in silence, their expressions shadowed with a mix of sorrow and respect. They were positioned in front of John Wick's grave, where he was now eternally beside his beloved late wife, Helen. The headstone, a simple yet dignified marker, bore the inscription "Loving Husband," fulfilling John's final request.

John's dog, a loyal companion left behind, sat quietly by the grave, its mournful eyes reflecting the loss of its master. The dog's presence was a poignant reminder of the bond between man and animal, a silent witness to John's relentless struggle for peace. The Golden Retriever's ears perked up occasionally as if listening for the familiar steps it would never hear again.

The Bowery King, a figure of strength and resilience, broke the heavy silence. "I never thought I'd see the day," he said, his voice a blend of disbelief and sorrow. His gaze remained fixed on the gravestone as if trying to reconcile the legendary assassin with the peaceful words etched in stone.

Winston, ever the picture of composed authority, stood with a straight back, his eyes slightly moist with unspoken emotions. The Bowery King turned to him, a question lingering in the air. "Do you think he's in Heaven or Hell?"

Winston's response was measured and thoughtful. "Who knows?" he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of their shared history and the uncertainty of what lies beyond. The Bowery King chuckled, a low, ironic sound that spoke volumes of his own views on the afterlife and the life John led.

With a final, respectful nod, the Bowery King turned and walked away, his coat billowing slightly in the breeze. Winston remained, his gaze fixed on the grave. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch the cold, unyielding surface of the headstone. The moment was intimate, a private farewell to a man who was both a friend and a son in spirit.

"Farewell, my son," Winston muttered in Russian, his voice breaking ever so slightly. The words were laden with a deep, paternal affection that John, perhaps, never fully realized. As Winston stood there, the weight of his words hung in the air, a testament to their complex, profound bond.

______

Undisclosed location, Upstate New York (Monday)

John woke with the dawn, the first light of day casting a soft glow through the windows of his secluded cabin. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the earthy scent of the forest surrounding his new home. Outside, the world was cloaked in a gentle mist, the landscape appearing as a dreamscape of rolling hills and dense, shadowy woods. The serenity was palpable, starkly contrasting the chaos he had left behind.

He donned his running gear and stepped outside, his dog, a playful and loyal Golden Retriever named Max, bounding eagerly at his side. Max's golden fur shone in the early light, his eyes bright with uncontained excitement. He nuzzled John's hand, seeking a moment of affection before their run. As he patted Max's head, John smiled a rare and genuine expression.

*Picture of Max*

The early morning silence was broken only by the rhythmic sound of his footsteps and the soft rustling of leaves. The mist clung to the trees, creating a mystical aura that seemed to envelop him in its embrace. John took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool, clean air, feeling a sense of calm.

John and Max ran along a well-worn path through the forest, damp ground and yielding beneath their feet. The towering trees' branches interlaced like an intricate canopy allowed slivers of sunlight to pierce through, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. Birds chirped softly, their songs a gentle reminder of the life teeming in this secluded haven.

As they reached a small clearing, John slowed to a stop. This was his sanctuary within a sanctuary, where he could train and maintain the skills that had kept him alive. The clearing was modest, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers, with a few simple targets for practice. Max sat patiently, watching as John went through his routine.

John began with hand-to-hand combat drills, his movements fluid and precise, each strike and block a testament to his training and discipline. The physical exertion was a release, a way to channel the restless energy that still coursed through him. Next, he moved to marksmanship, drawing his pistol and firing the targets with unwavering accuracy. The sound of gunfire echoed briefly through the trees, then faded back into the tranquil silence. Max's ears twitched at each shot but remained calm, trusting in John's control.

By the time he finished, the sun had risen higher, burning away the last remnants of mist. John wiped the sweat from his brow and called Max to his side. Together, they returned to the cabin, the morning's peace settling around them like a comforting blanket. Max trotted happily alongside, occasionally glancing up at John, seeking reassurance in his presence.

______

In the late morning, just as the soil began to dry from the dew, John turned his attention to his vegetable garden. The plot was modest but meticulously maintained, a patch of order and life amidst the natural wilderness. He knelt down, his hands moving with practiced care as he inspected the plants. Tomatoes, peppers, herbs, and leafy greens thrived under his diligent attention.

Gardening had become a therapeutic ritual for John to reconnect with a more straightforward, grounded part of himself. Each plant was a testament to his patience and care, a small but significant triumph over the chaos that had once ruled his life. He delicately pruned the plants, ensuring they had room to grow and flourish. The rich scent of the earth and the vibrant colors of the garden provided a sense of satisfaction and peace.

As he worked, John found his thoughts drifting back to his past, the people he had lost, and the battles he had fought. The garden, however, anchored him in the present, reminding him of the life he was trying to build. The rhythmic tasks of watering, weeding, and nurturing the plants helped him find balance and purpose.

Max lay nearby, contentedly chewing on a stick, occasionally glancing up at John with adoring eyes. The bond between them was a quiet yet profound comfort to John. With each careful motion, John felt more of the tension ease from his body. The garden was more than just a food source; it symbolized his healing and a promise of the peace he sought. He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans, and surveyed his work with a quiet sense of pride. This was his sanctuary, where he could begin rebuilding himself, one day at a time.

Max trotted over, his tail wagging slowly. John knelt down, scratching behind the dog's ears. "Good boy, Max," he murmured. Max responded with a joyful bark, his eyes shining with unwavering loyalty and affection. John smiled, feeling a rare moment of contentment. 

As John continued to his garden, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around him, and memories began to surface, unbidden and vivid. The rhythmic motions of gardening seemed to unlock doors in his mind, allowing the past to flood in with startling clarity.

The first memory came from the High Table, a shadowy council controlling his life for so long. He could almost feel the cold, oppressive atmosphere of their clandestine meetings, the weight of their expectations, and the constant threat of violence that hung like a thick fog. The faces of the influential figures, masked in shadows, their voices echoing in the chamber, left an indelible mark on his psyche. Each figure, a specter of power and control, returned the suffocating sensation of being a pawn in their deadly game.

His thoughts drifted to Helen, his late wife, and the heartache of losing her. He remembered the quiet moments they had shared, the tender touches, and the deep conversations that made life feel full and meaningful. The memory of her smile, warm and genuine, pierced through the darkness, bringing both solace and pain. The garden was a small way of keeping her memory alive, a tribute to the life they had dreamed of together. He could almost hear her laughter, feel the warmth of her presence, the gentle way she had made even the darkest days seem bearable.

John's mind wandered to the intense battle with Vincent Bisset de Gramont. The scene replayed with brutal clarity: the clashing of steel, the deafening gunfire, and the raw, visceral struggle for survival. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the acute awareness of every move, every strike. Vincent's face, twisted in arrogance and desperation, was etched into his memory. The final moments of the duel, the precision and inevitability of the kill, were both a triumph and a curse. It was a reminder of why he had to leave that life behind. He remembered the feel of the cold metal in his hands, the weight of each decision, the fleeting moment of victory overshadowed by the endless cycle of violence.

As he pulled a weed from the soil, another memory surfaced, one that was both tender and bittersweet. Sera. Seraphina Jones is a bright light in the darkness of his past. He remembered her intense stare and those large, expressive brown eyes that seemed to see right through him- Bambi he affectionally used to call her. Their connection had been almost romantic, a bond forged in the crucible of shared hardship and fleeting moments of peace.

In his mind's eye, he saw her dancing, her movements fluid and powerful yet graceful. She had been a beacon of hope, a glimpse of what life could be beyond the blood and violence. Their conversations had been deep and meaningful, touching on dreams and fears that neither had shared with anyone else. He recalled how she had tied her pointe shoes, her fingers nimble and precise, and the times they had sparred together, her determination matching his own. The way her face would light up with passion when she spoke of her dreams, the unspoken understanding that passed between them, was something he cherished deeply.

The memory of their parting was a jagged wound. The High Table's intervention, the forced separation, and the knowledge that she had been sent to the Expanse program to endure unimaginable hardships. He had tried to keep her in his heart, but the brutality of their world had left little room for such fragile connections. He remembered the last look they shared, a silent promise of reunion that seemed impossible to keep.

Max nudged his leg, sensing his distress. John knelt down, wrapping his arms around the dog, finding solace in his companion's uncomplicated loyalty and love. Max licked his face, a simple gesture that spoke volumes about their bond.

John's hands stilled in the soil, the weight of these memories pressing down on him. Max, sensing his master's unease, came over and nuzzled his leg, offering silent comfort. John looked down at the loyal dog, his eyes reflecting a gratitude and connection that words could not capture. He knelt and buried his face in Max's fur, drawing strength from the unwavering loyalty of his canine companion. "I'm okay, Max," John whispered, though the words were as much for himself as for his dog. He needed this reminder of his humanity, the reason he had faked his death and sought this peace. 

The past was a part of him, a series of scars and lessons that had shaped the man he had become. But here, in this garden, with Max by his side, John could find moments of peace and clarity. He took a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs, and continued his work, grounding himself in the present, in the life he was striving to build away from the shadows of his past. With each careful motion, he felt more of the tension ease from his body, the garden's therapeutic rhythm offering a respite from the ghosts that haunted him.

__________

As the day wore on and the sun climbed higher, John and Max returned to the cabin. John fed Max, watching with a small smile as the dog eagerly devoured his meal. The simple act of caring for Max brought a sense of normalcy and purpose. John then focused on his needs, preparing a simple yet hearty breakfast.

The small kitchen was filled with the scent of sizzling eggs and freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest that drifted in through the open windows. John ate slowly, savoring each bite, a stark contrast to the hurried meals of his past life. Max lay contentedly at his feet, occasionally glancing up with adoring eyes, his tail thumping softly against the floor.

After breakfast, John cleaned up and returned to the garden to check on a few more plants. Then, he noticed something unusual at the edge of the garden, partially hidden beneath a low-hanging branch. Curiosity piqued, he walked over and crouched down, carefully lifting the branch to reveal a small, intricately carved wooden box.

John's heart rate quickened as he picked up the box, its weight solid and reassuring in his hands. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the surface adorned with delicate patterns that seemed to pulse with a hidden energy. He carried it back to the cabin, Max following closely, sensing the shift in his master's mood.

Inside, John placed the box on the kitchen table and sat down, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. There was no prominent latch or hinge or visible way to open it. He ran his fingers over the carvings, feeling the subtle grooves and indentations. There was something familiar about the patterns, something that tugged at the edges of his memory.

As he examined the box, he noticed that the carvings formed a series of interlocking shapes, almost like a puzzle. He pressed gently on one of the shapes, and to his surprise, it shifted slightly. Encouraged, he began manipulating the other shapes, each sliding into place with a satisfying click. It was a complex, delicate process, requiring both patience and precision.

The box seemed to come alive with each movement, the patterns shifting and rearranging into new configurations. John's mind raced, piecing together the clues, his training and experience guiding his hands. Max watched intently, his head cocked to one side as if sensing the significance of the moment.

After several minutes, the final piece slid into place, and the box opened with a soft, almost imperceptible click. Inside was a small, folded piece of parchment, the edges worn and delicate. John unfolded it carefully, his eyes scanning the elegant, flowing script.

The message was brief but laden with meaning:

"The shadows know you still walk among them. The dance is not yet over. Beware the dawn, for it brings new light to old secrets."

John's mind raced as he deciphered the cryptic words. The shadows were an apparent reference to the High Table, the unseen forces that still sought to control him. The mention of the dance was unmistakably tied to Sera, her life, and their connection. The warning about the dawn hinted at something imminent, something that threatened to disrupt the fragile peace he had found.

He sat back, the weight of the message settling over him like a heavy shroud. His sanctuary was no longer as safe as he had believed. The shadows of his past were closing in, threatening to pull him back into the world he had fought so hard to escape.

Max, sensing his master's unease, came over and laid his head on John's lap, offering silent comfort. John absently stroked the dog's fur, his mind racing with possibilities and plans. He knew he couldn't ignore the warning. The shadows were moving, and he needed to be ready.

The tranquility of the countryside seemed to waver, the peaceful façade hiding the storm about to break. John took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He had found peace, but it seemed peace was not ready to see him.

________

Brooklyn, New York (Monday)

Brooklyn, New York City, is teeming with life and energy, starkly contrasting John's secluded sanctuary. The sound of traffic and the city's hustle create a constant hum, a symphony of urban chaos. Amid this, The Étoile Ballet Theatre is a beacon of grace and discipline.

Inside the theater, Seraphina "Sera" Jones moved with an intensity and precision that commanded attention. The studio's mirrored walls reflected her every movement, capturing her dance's fluid grace and raw power. Sera was the principal dancer, and her presence on stage was mesmerizing. Her brown skin gleamed with a light sheen of sweat, her muscles taut and defined under the form-fitting dance attire. Her hair, usually pulled into a messy bun, was now slicked back, emphasizing the sharp lines of her face.

Each movement was a testament to her inner strength and discipline, a powerful display of years of rigorous training and unyielding determination. She was practicing for the upcoming performance of Swan Lake, a role that demanded both Odette's delicate grace and Odile's fierce intensity.

As the music swelled, filling the studio with an emotional crescendo, Sera's body responded in kind, each leap and turn a harmonious blend of power and elegance. Her feet executed perfect fouetté turns while her arms moved with the fluidity of water, each gesture telling a story of longing and transformation.

The other dancers watched in awe, inspired by her dedication and skill. Despite the admiration, Sera remained focused, her intense stare fixed on her reflection, pushing herself to the limits of her abilities. She executed a flawless grand jeté, her body suspended in mid-air, a moment of pure artistry that defied gravity.

Sera's mind, however, was only partially in the studio. As she danced, fragments of her past flickered in her thoughts—memories of her parents, the harsh training at the Expanse, and fleeting moments with John. The raw emotion coursed through her, infusing her performance with a mesmerizing and heartbreaking depth.

She finished with a final, breathtaking flourish, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Applause erupted from the instructor and fellow dancers, but Sera simply nodded with a small, appreciative smile before she turned to leave. The praise was appreciated, but she always sought perfection, a relentless pursuit that often left her empowered and exhausted.

________

After practice, Sera retreated to the solitude of her apartment, a small but cozy space filled with books, plants, and the warm glow of ambient lighting. It was her sanctuary, where she could shed the pressures of the stage and embrace her other identity. Apollo, her beagle, greeted her with enthusiastic barks and a wagging tail. She knelt down, scratching behind his ears, and he nuzzled into her, offering the comfort and companionship she cherished.

*Picture of Apollo*

"Hey, Babas," she whispered, her voice soft and affectionate. "Miss me?"

Apollo responded with a joyful bark, his eyes shining with unwavering loyalty. Sera smiled, the tension from the day's practice easing as she spent a few moments cuddling with her furry friend.

She moved through her apartment, tending to mundane tasks that brought her a sense of normalcy. She filled Apollo's bowl with food, watching him eagerly devouring his meal. In the kitchen, she prepared a simple dinner for herself, the familiar motions of chopping vegetables and stirring pots grounding her after the intensity of rehearsal.

Sera ate her meal slowly, savoring the flavors and the quiet of her apartment. Afterward, she washed the dishes, and the warm water and rhythmic scrubbing soothed her frayed nerves. She caught her reflection in the kitchen window, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights outside. For a moment, she studied herself, seeing the determination and resilience that had carried her through so much.

She let her hair down, the thick, curly strands falling around her shoulders in a cascade. It was a small act of liberation, a way to shed the day's weight. She combed through her hair with her fingers, easing the tension from her scalp.

With Apollo at her side, Sera settled onto the couch, turning on the TV. She chose a Disney movie, Dumbo, one of her favorites from childhood (Making it a personal goal to go through every classical Disney first before the newer, more modern-day ones). As the familiar music and vibrant animation filled the room, she felt a sense of peace. Apollo curled beside her, his head resting on her lap, his warmth comforting.

Sera found solace in the quiet of her apartment, with the movie playing softly in the background. She stroked Apollo's fur, her thoughts drifting between the ballet, her hacking, and the fragments of her past. She was a woman of dualities, living two lives that were her passion and burden.

As the movie ended, Sera glanced down at Apollo, his eyes closed in contentment. "Good boy, Apollo," she whispered, her voice filled with affection. He responded with a contented sigh, his tail thumping softly against the couch.

The peaceful moment was fleeting. Sera knew that soon enough, she had to transform into NYX, her hacker persona. She skillfully navigated through layers of cybersecurity, taking on a new job that challenged her abilities. The screens in her small office lit up with lines of code, a puzzle she was eager to solve.

Sera's fingers flew over the keyboard, her mind sharp and focused. She cracked encryption, bypassed firewalls, and deciphered the intricate web of digital defenses with a precision that mirrored her ballet performances. The adrenaline of the high-stakes hacking was as intense as any performance on stage.

Apollo lay at her feet, his presence a constant comfort. He occasionally looked up at her, sensing her concentration and offering silent support. "You're my rock, Apollo," she would whisper, giving him a quick pat before diving back into her work.

__________

Brooklyn, New York (Thursday)

A few nights later, the city outside her apartment was alive with its usual nocturnal rhythm. The hum of distant traffic, the occasional siren, and the murmurs of late-night revelers supported Sera's intense focus. The glow from multiple computer screens cast an eerie light, reflecting off her determined face as she navigated through layers of cybersecurity, her fingers dancing across the keyboard with the same precision she brought to her ballet.

Her apartment, usually her sanctuary, felt oppressive tonight. The air was thick with the tension of her concentration. Apollo lay beside her, his soulful eyes watching her every move, sensing her strain. The gentle whirr of the computer fans and the soft taps of keys were the only sounds inside, a stark contrast to the cacophony outside.

Suddenly, a sharp, searing headache struck Sera as if a white-hot spike had been driven into her skull. She gasped, clutching her head, the pain radiating behind her eyes. The room seemed to spin, and her vision blurred as fragmented memories surged forward with brutal clarity.

She saw the fire—vivid and terrifying—the flames consuming her childhood home. The heat was palpable, the roar of the inferno deafening. Her parents' screams echoed in her ears, mingling with the crackling of burning wood. Sera's heart raced, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps. She felt the suffocating smoke filling her lungs, the overwhelming terror of that night gripping her once again.

Images shifted abruptly to the Expanse program. The cold, sterile environments, the harsh, unyielding instructors, the relentless training that pushed her to the brink of breaking. She saw the other girls, their faces blank, eyes hollow—victims of the same merciless conditioning. The commands barked at her, the pain of every strike and fall, the exhaustion that seeped into her bones. Her body shook with the remembered agony, her muscles tightening as if expecting another blow.

Then, the fragments of a more personal nature. The face of a young boy with kind eyes and a gentle smile, a presence that felt achingly familiar yet painfully distant. His touch was soft, a whisper of comfort in a world of brutality. They were in a training room, the surroundings harsh and unforgiving, but his presence made it bearable. She saw his smile, felt the warmth of his hand holding hers, and heard his whispered promises of a future they would never have.

"Who are you?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face, her voice breaking under the weight of the unknown. The fragmented memories were like shards of glass, cutting into her consciousness. The intensity of the emotions was unbearable, each image a jagged wound reopening.

Sera collapsed to the floor, her body wracked with sobs, hyperventilating as the weight of her past overwhelmed her. Apollo, sensing her distress, rushed to her side, whining softly. He nudged her with his nose, his eyes filled with worry and an almost human understanding. He licked her face, trying to offer comfort, his presence a small anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The PTSD and anxiety from her past were relentless, tearing through her with unyielding force. She cried, her sobs echoing through the apartment as Apollo pressed closer, his warm body against hers a reminder that she was not entirely alone. His tail thumped lightly, a silent reassurance of his loyalty and love.

The memories receded as the night wore on, leaving Sera drained and trembling. She clung to Apollo, her breaths gradually slowing, her tears subsiding. The weight of her traumas was heavy, but in these moments, she found a strange solace in the presence of her loyal companion. Apollo's steady heartbeat against her helped ground her, his soft whines a reminder that she had survived yet another onslaught of her past.

"I'm okay, Apollo," she murmured, her voice hoarse from crying. She stroked his fur, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "We'll be okay."

Sera returned to her computer with a deep breath, her resolve hardening. The code revealed more connections, each leading her deeper into the High Table's labyrinth. She saw names and faces, some familiar, others unknown. Her heart pounded as she realized how close she was getting to a world she had once barely escaped.

______

Meanwhile, in his secluded cabin, John felt a similar unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming, a storm brewing on the horizon. He glanced at Max; the dog's ears perked up as if sensing his master's unrest. John sighed, running a hand through his hair. The tranquility he had fought so hard to achieve was slipping away, the shadows of his past threatening to engulf him once more.

Sera's and John's worlds moved inexorably closer as the night deepened. Each line of code she cracked, each shadowy connection she uncovered, brought her a step closer to John's hidden life. The parallels between them were striking—they were warriors in their own right, searching for peace in a world that refused to let them go.

The tension built with each passing moment, the air thick with anticipation. Sera felt the sense that she was on the brink of something monumental in every fiber of her being. Apollo, ever her faithful companion, stayed close, his presence a steadying force.

She finished the decryption, her eyes scanning the final line of code. The realization hit her like a physical blow—she was about to enter a world far darker and more dangerous than she had ever imagined. The High Table was no ordinary target, and she was no ordinary hacker.

As the first light of dawn began to break, Sera and John prepared themselves for the battles ahead. Though separated by distance and circumstance, their lives were bound by the threads of fate. The shadows were closing in, and neither could afford to look back.

In the quiet of her apartment, Sera took a deep breath, the weight of her past pressing down on her. She glanced at Apollo, his trusting eyes giving her the strength she needed. "We'll be okay," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "We have to be."

_____________________

Chapter Two: Saturday June 8, 2:00 PM EST

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Story Premise and Character Profiles Here