#could I ask for some prayers if anyone is willing?

[venusbyline]

Gwayne Hightower — Merciful Gods (1/3)

chapter one

(next chapter)

— summary: Gwayne Hightower is back in King's Landing. Just as you are willing to try to avoid your uncle at all costs, he is more than eager to finally show you the price for his silence.

— pairing: Gwayne Hightower x niece!reader

— type: dark

— word count: 1.5k

— chapter's warnings: female!reader, dark!Gwayne, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Hightower Incest (uncle/niece), dubcon, dubcon touching, sexual tension, degradation, violence, face-slapping, sexism, argument, referenced non-con voyeurism, referenced accidental voyeurism, referenced fingering, religious conflict, religious guilt, corruption kink, age gap (older man/younger woman), gaslighting, manipulation, curse words, referenced character death, prince regent!Aemond mentioned, dark content, sub!reader, dom!Gwayne, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Merciful Gods is a threeshot series. It involves dark content about religiosity (The Faith of the Seven), incest relationship and women's repressed carnal desires.

— author's notes²: Each chapter will have its own trigger warnings.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ Merciful Gods masterlist

❥ about me ��� Gwayne masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

"Well... you are here again, princess."

The voice you had been avoiding hearing during the last few days echoed off the walls of the Great Sept, your hands shaking as you remained silent and continued focusing on your prayers.

Since Jaehaerys' death, you accompanied your sister Helaena and your mother to the Sept then the three of you could beg to the Gods for forgiveness and for their kindness too, asking them to have some mercy on your family in the midst of all that war. You would kneel and pray for hours, lighting candles and focusing on your thoughts, even though Helaena was distracted, whispering random sentences that made no sense to anyone but her.

However, you could not blame your sister. No, you really were not in a position to judge her for not focusing on the Gods, not when you were also lost in thoughts.

Unlike Helaena, who had a broken mind since her son's cruel murder, you were distracted thinking about futile things. Sinful things, to say the least. Something that went against everything you learned about the Faith of the Seven.

"Do not be such a rude little girl, niece. I am talking to you."

When the footsteps approached where you were, you sighed and closed the eyelids. "I am trying to concentrate myself, uncle Gwayne."

Your words came out shakier than you would have wanted, a mocking sound escaping from Gwayne's lips as he continued walking over to where you were kneeling. Even though you had the eyes closed, you could hear his presence covering your shadow, his boots finally coming to rest next to you.

The slight smell of sweat and wet grass indicated that Gwayne returned recently from his daily training. Since Rhaenys's attack on Aegon, Aemond assumed temporarily the reigns as the Prince Regent and was orchestrating yet another attack against Rhaenyra's allies. You did not know so much about the whole situation, since your mother was willing to keep you and Helaena in the dark when it came to the more bureaucratic part of the Green Council. Everything you realized on your own was that your brother Aemond was not in his right mind, and he almost seemed to enjoy taking on the responsibilities that once belonged to the older boy.

"And you were concentrating this time?" Gwayne asked you with a sarcastic voice, which made you sigh again and open the eyes, raising the face to stare at your uncle and his large and imposing presence, standing very close to where you were kneeling and quite vulnerable.

"I always concentrate."

Considering how broken and high-pitched your voice sounded, it was no surprise when Gwayne raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. "Oh, that is true? So you are a rather... Faithful to the Gods' little girl now?"

Your cheeks that were once only a little warm due to the countless candles around the Sept, heated even more at Gwayne's words, some specific memories filling your mind while you stuttered in search of any convincing answer, but you could not found nothing.

Gwayne took advantage of your silence. "You know, dear niece... I still remember how cunning you were two years ago. Always mumbling about not understanding why you needed to come to Sept so often, but at the same time doing anything Alicent demanded. Pretending to be her perfect daughter."

Your face turned pale upon hearing your uncle's words, a part of you tensing at the direction of that conversation, already understanding very well what he was implying. The hands that had been intertwined throughout the prayers loosened and you placed them on top of your own lap, taking a deep breath and facing the grown man. But there was another side of you that was feeling attracted to what Gwayne was saying. Like a stupid moth to the flames.

That was a part of your conscience that you did not dare admit to anyone, not even to yourself. You wished to keep blaming the lit candles to justify the heat burning inside your veins, blame them for making you so breathless and paralyzed.

And you could mentally blame whatever you wanted, actually. Either way, in the end, both Gwayne or yourself would recognize the truth. Both of you would recognize the emotions that you had been trying hard to deny during the last years.

"How would my sister react if she knew her sweet daughter was touching herself at the Great Sept two years ago?"

Your uncle's degrading but honest words froze your blood and you immediately stood up from where you were, eyes wide and staring at him with disbelief. Before Gwayne had a chance to calm down, you were about to run away from the sacred place. Away from the Gods. Away from him.

Your attempts to escape failed as soon as Gwayne's large hand grabbed your wrist, his years as a knight making it easy for him to catch you, like you were a simple little mouse begging to escape from a predator.

"Do not you dare open that pretty mouth to cry out, sweetheart." Gwayne placed his palm over your lips, preventing any sound asking for help. His free hand released your arm and moved to your waist, pressing your smaller body against one of the pillars while you squirmed. "You thought I forgot, did not you? You thought I would not remember how you cried and begged me not to tell anyone about your dirty little secret?"

The knight let out a low chuckle as he watched your violet eyes fill with crystal clear tears that did not take long to start running down your rosy cheeks. He could feel the warm radiating from your body, the way you moved against his hold...

Gwayne lowered his face, kissing and licking the little quantity of your skin that was exposed due to the necklaces you wore. Ever since you saw Jaehaerys' body after his death, you had been wearing more accessories than usual, feeling a discomfort in your throat every time you pictured your nephew being beheaded and with his head sewn on afterwards.

Your uncle did not seem to care about any of this, just nibbling you roughly enough that you whimpered under his palm, but not hard enough to let marks that would make clear to the entire King's Landing about the unholy act he was committing against you.

Or that the two of you were committing it together.

"You stopped fighting."

Then you realized that he was right. That you really were not moving against him anymore. Your body was still tense under the touch and the tears continued to flow like a current. However, there were no more desperate movements.

"You want this, do not you, niece? This is why you keep coming to pray here at the Sept. Because you feel dirty for desiring carnal acts." He removed the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to say whatever you wanted. Or even scream if you wanted to.

No ask for help was even considered. "I do not... I do not feel dirty. I am not dirty."

His mocking smirk was playing on his face. "Are you sure about that?" Gwayne asked, now caressing your chin, his other fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts covered by the green velvet dress. "You seemed quite dirty in my eyes during that night. Rubbing your pretty little cunt and fucking your fingers inside it, so close to the altar and letting out pathetic moans that you swore no one would hear."

"It was a mistake!" You growled lowly after letting out a soft whining, heart racing due to his caresses. "It was just a mistake, uncle. I was younger, I did not understand the true matter about the Faith of the Seven. I was bored and—"

"And you believed that touching your cunt before their eyes would make your religious duties more interesting?" His evil laugh echoed through the holy temple, as did your moans. "You looked like a whore."

Faced with such cruelty, the world stopped for a few seconds. Whore. You looked like a whore. That was what Alicent called Rhaenyra. It was the type of woman that your brother Aegon fucked every week. They worked in filthy brothels and sold their bodies to earn enough money to feed themselves at least. They were disgusting. Cheap price, most of the time. And they were dirty. Dirty and promiscuous women. Stained and condemned before the Seven.

Your heart sank and you did what you never thought you would need to do someday. Your hand collided with Gwayne's face with a considerable violence, his face turning to the other side, letting go of you at the same moment with shock and fury.

Neither of you moved for the next two seconds. You remained still, normalizing your breathing while Gwayne now was staring at the ground, swallowing hard and clenching his jaw.

When Gwayne returned your gaze again, a chill ran down your spine. The big and almost always charismatic eyes now held a darkness that you had not seen up close in another man other than Aemond or Daemon. It was dangerous and scary, for a moment you flinched against the pillar, like a helpless fawn.

"You will regret this, dear niece." The warning was the last thing Gwayne said to you before leaving the Sept, the gates closing with a thunderous sound that made you kneel once again, lighting a candle and begging for mercy immediately.

[hello-nichya-here]

If Sansa didn't already have feelings for Sandor, do you think she could have grown to love Tyrion?

No, because her feelings for Sandor (that I wouldn't even fully describe as being in love just yet) have nothing to do with why she never developed the same level of attachment/compassion towards Tyrion.

Despite her already strong bond with Sandor, she constantly notices Tyrion's attempt at being kind to her. Before anyone ever thinks of marrying them to each other he already tries to comfort her when she's upset and protects her from Joffrey's violent outbursts, and when they're ordered to get married he offers Sansa the chance of marrying one of his cousins instead (someone younger and more handsome), doesn't let Joffrey humiliate her with the whole "undress the couple and lead them to the marriage bed" thing, and even full on tells Sansa that they don't need to have sex until she wants it - and that he'll just cope with some prostitutes if she decides she never wants it.

Truly, Sansa could not ask for a kinder captor.

Because yes, that's what Tyrion actually is: her jailer. He's another person forcing her to stay in King's Landing, submiting to the Lannisters, and he actually fought against her brother Rob, who wants to rescue her and free the North.

Tyrion himself even admits in one of his POV chapters that he's not marrying Sansa just because his father told him, but because that marriage is benefitial for him. It gives him Winterfell and a pretty wife. He knows Sansa doesn't want this marriage, yet he's playing a role in forcing her into it, even if he's willing to step aside and let someone else be the groom.

The fact Sansa is not allowed to state the obvious aloud ("I don't want any Lannister") despite everyone being well aware of it is the biggest proof that Tyrion is willing to be a kind captor, but never a true savior, ally or just neutral. If it benefits his house, benefits him, then he'll go for it, regardless of what it means to Sansa, physically or psychologically - there's even a moment in which all he has to say about how Sansa is obviously depressed after the Red Wedding is that her grief made her more beautiful. This poor girl's entire family (as far as they know) has just been killed, and all Tyrion can think is "Wow, my hot wife somehow got even hotter."

Now compare that to Sandor - Sansa COULD ask for a kinder bodyguard, and by God, she does. Over and over. In her prayers, by plotting with others who offer her help, and, more importantly, by telling Sandor himself that he's being a vile person.

And as much as he hates to admit it, her opinion matters to him to the point that he actually tries to improve himself. Little by little, without even realizing it. But Sansa very much picks up on it, to the point that she constantly thinks about him, wishes he were around, assumes that a man who saved her from being assaulted MUST be Sandor even if she knows that's impossible, and even has moments in which she questions her decision to not leave with him at the end of the second book (despite the fact that he had been in a middle of a PTSD episode and held a knife to her throat).

That's THE key difference between Sandor and all of Sansa's other potential suitors. He's in love/lust with her, yes, and he would certainly not complain if she decided to reward his compassion towards her by becoming his wife/lover - but he doesn't believe he's OWED that, and when she tells him he's not getting what he wants, not only does he back off, but he lists his inappropriate advances towards her (as well as his shortcomings as her protector, something NONE of the other men ever admit to also being guilty of) as one of the main reasons why he deserves to DIE.

When Sansa disappears after supposedly killing Joffrey and not taking her husband along, Tyrion can only throw himself a pity party about how she was so "false" when making her vows to him - nevermind that she made these vows under duress and that he broke them first by playing a role in her family's downfall. When he "saves" (kidnaps) her, Littlefinger is constantly trying to brute force Sansa into the role of his daughter AND lover, despite her obvious discomfort, and keeps implicating her in all of his crimes to keep her trapped.

But Sandor literally goes "I failed to protect her and even posed a threat to her myself, why don't I just die?" And now he's in rehab/therapy, despite thinking he'll never see her again and will thus never be rewarded. He's just genuinely sorry and adjusting his behavior accordingly because it's the right thing to do and what Sansa would want, and he wishes to honor her.

(Not to mention, Sandor is a nobody in Westerosi society. He has no money, no influence, no powerful allies, literally nothing aside from pure physical strength that he's already promissed to use solely for the KING'S safety and best interests. Him going out of his way to help her, even screaming at the king in public so he'll stop hitting her, is VERY dangerous for him)

That is what makes Sansa (mostly retroactively) fall in love with Sandor. It wasn't just because he was the first potential knight in shinning armor to offer her his protection or the one who was around the longest, but because he's the only one that doesn't feel entitled to her, despite being the one that is taking the most risks and being the one that she actually feels safer with it and would eventually become attracted to. She trust him and that allows a genuine connection to form.

To all the others, Tyrion very much included, she's a potential trophy, a compensation for a lifetime of misery, their object of affection, a valuable asset that will help them with their politial ambitions -whether she likes it or not. To Sandor, she's a person, one that is free to choose not having him around, regardless of what kind things he does for her.

Tyrion could never mean as much to Sansa as Sandor did because, despite claiming otherwise, he does not actually respect her right to reject him. He won't full on sexually assault her, but he's still holding her hostage, allowing his family to coerce her into being his wife (meaning he already went further with her than any other man as he got to kiss her, see her naked and even grope her despite her CLEARLY not being okay with it), and playing a role in killing her family for wanting to save her from this fate.

He can lie to himself about it all he wants, but he's not the hero that simply looks like a monster but will ultimately save the princess that is trapped in the tower, prove everybody wrong and then be rewarded with her affection - he's just the guy that locked her door.

[letterstodixon]

place in me

summary: A path of wishes and several opportunities in which you stopped believing in them, since the world went to shit until now.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 8556

era: commonwealth

warnings: towl/dd: tboc spoilers. mentions of blood and killing walkers. angst (kind of?). not proofreading. mentions of reader cutting her hair shorter but it doesn't mention the lenght per se. age gap implied.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: i'm afraid this is gonna be a long ass author's note. hello again! i've been missing due to my academic schedule and my writers block, this one shot has been sitting on my notes app for a month and half, and i'm still not too happy on how it turned out, however, i wanted to try and post it. i'm sorry if there's any error, spelling mistake or lack of continuation in the story, i'm willing to come back to re-edit this someday and improve it, in the meantime, thank you if you read the note and the one shot. hope you like it! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

Every birthday, when a shooting star passed by, when you saw a dandelion, when an eyelash fell on your cheek, or on the cheek of someone you loved. You never missed the chance to make a wish.

Well, wishes were no longer something that could be fulfilled. Silently, every time you asked for something, it didn't work out. No matter how hard you wished for it, it just didn't happen.

From the shores of the lake at the quarry, wishing that whatever was happening in the world would be fixed, until the moment the war with the whisperers ended, you didn't stop praying that someone, anyone, would hear your prayer. That they wouldn't stop taking your family away, even though new members kept appearing and making themselves loved, you hated knowing that someone you loved would be a new name on the wall of Alexandria. It could even be you, but luck was on your side. Or not yet.

When you arrived in the Commonwealth, the few members of your family were more than a little scared and suspicious. Still, everyone seemed to fit into this new life that was offered to them... until you had to fight. Once again. To get Negan on your side? Yeah, it was bad. And as things seemed to fall into place once again, you kept losing people. And you lost the one you loved the most in that weak and broken world.

Your lover and best friend.

You can still remember the moment you entered the apartment you shared, not only with each other, but with your nephews and Dog. School had just finished, the work day seemed to have never drained your energy, and you couldn't wait to get home. Hell, maybe you even had the will to bake a pumpkin pie, since autumn was beginning, but that calmness vanished as soon as you saw Daryl's backpack on the couch, along with other belongings. Was he leaving? Was there some kind of run you weren't aware of?

"Babe?" You asked, dropping your bag next to his, while your free hand clung to your necklace. He appeared through the bedroom door, somewhat confused, as he was probably expecting you to arrive later.

"Hey. Yer early.”

"No, I think you're the one who's early." You tried to joke, still playing with the chain on your neck, while a nervous smile appeared on your lips. Daryl seemed to be focused on that movement that you kept making, making it inevitable to meet your gaze. Wrap, wrap, unravel, unravel. "What's going on?"

Your voice brought him out of his trance, making him clear his throat, his gaze going to the floor. He had thought of a thousand ways of how to face that situation, but none of those thousand ways were going to be enough to face reality.

"Yeah, I— uh, I'm leavin'."

"What?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "I'm leav—"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean why, why would you leave?" You asked, feeling your stomach start to churn. After all those years, all those moments, all the time it took for you both to be able to be calm and together, he was leaving? Just like that?

"It ain't about us or anythin’, I'm just... I feel stuck 'ere." He admitted, daring to meet her face and oh boy, he wished he never had. Your nervous eyes met his ocean ones, head tilted slightly, trying to understand him.

"Okay then, we're both leaving. I'm not staying here this time, six years was enough." You answered quickly, passing by him to try to enter the room, ready to pack a bag and leave with him, but his hand caught your wrist.

"I'm doin' it alone. Yer staying here."

"Like hell I'm staying here! What do you mean?!" You asked, raising your voice and causing Daryl to flinch, making your heart clench at the sight. "I didn't mean to raise my voice but I... I don't get it.”

"I need to find Rick, I can't leave Michonne alone with ‘im... I need my time away." He explained as clearly as he could, without stuttering in between. For every word that came out of his mouth, another piece of his heart broke. A humorless laugh left your lips, yanking out of his grasp.

They say the human heart beats between 60 and 100 beats per minute. You weren't sure you were even feeling your heart beating at that moment.

In fact, it was probably so broken that you couldn't feel it in your chest.

"You can leave for Rick but I ain't worth your stay. I get it, Daryl." You said, raising your hands in surrender. "There's nothing I can do about this, about us."

"I told ya, it ain't about you or anything, I just—"

"I understood every fucking time you wanted to leave. I was never against it, I never even approached the places I knew you could be, so you could have your time, but now?" You had to take a moment to breathe, feeling like it wasn't enough, the pressure in your chest too much to pretend it wasn't there. "Now I don't get it, and I probably never will. And yeah, I'm mad as hell because I love you and I don't want you away from me, but since I'm not a good enough reason to stay, then I won't beg.”

Daryl frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded at what you said, never taking his eyes off your face. You knew him well enough to sense that he was holding back the urge to cry, and you weren't far from doing so either.

"Yer more than enough. M'sorry, sunshine." He said softly, slowly approaching to you before finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. As soon as you saw yourself surrounded by that hug, you couldn't help but release those tears you'd been holding back for a while.

For many years, you woke up knowing you'd see his face next to you, you went to sleep knowing it, and you were certain that the heaviest, most crushing part of life turned out to be a little lighter with his presence.

That day, when Daryl was about to leave, was the first day —of all those yet to come— without that certainty.

It was just you and Carol outside the Commonwealth gates. You carefully placed the ring you shared with him on your chain and placed it around his neck, hiding it under his clothes, as you felt his gaze follow every move you made. Daryl would grab that ring and press it into the palm of his hand in the middle of his journey whenever he needed to feel you closer, when there were no people around and he wanted to connect with home.

With a kiss on each cheek, one on his forehead and one on his lips, you gave him a weak smile, as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together, one of your hands holding his free hand, holding tight once again to the man who once was your North.

"Love ya like the ocean." He said in the softest voice you had ever heard from him.

"I love you more." You murmured, walking away so Carol could say goodbye. After exchanging their I love you's, you both took a few steps back, watching as Daryl climbed onto his motorcycle and gave you one last look before starting the engine and accelerating towards his next destination, while you silently wished that the universe would protect the reason why the sun shined.

Months came and went. With each passing season, your life seemed to become duller and more monotonous. Little remained of the life you used to know, and the family you once knew. Perhaps, you were nostalgic too easily

Daryl’s whereabouts remained unknown, as did Rick’s, and God knows where Negan had gotten off to. Every chance you got, you found a blind spot in the Commonwealth you could sneak through, and you spent hours looking for any trace of Daryl, without finding any clue that he was around. The kids and Dog were still in your care, and the families in the community counted on you to educate their children, so you couldn’t allow yourself to disappear for many hours.

But Carol could.

As soon as she had the chance, she dropped everything to go in search of her best friend, promising to bring him back for you, for the kids, and for her, who was starting to feel overwhelmed in that place, the memories weighing more heavily than reality. You knew you couldn't stop her, so once again, you asked the universe to take care of her and allow her to return home, safe and sound.

You still didn't believe in wishes, but you could still try.

When winter break arrived, in the semi-normality that the commonwealth allowed you to have, you set off on a trip to Alexandria with Judith, RJ and Dog, who didn't know how to behave the whole trip, excited about it being his first time traveling by car. Judith looked strange in the back seat, moving her hands inside her backpack, until you heard the sound of a walkie.

Shoto, it's Daito. I found him.

A thousand thoughts went through your head from the moment you recognized Michonne's voice, until you took the children to that field where the helicopter would land. You thought you were living a dream, but it was as real as it could be. Rick's reunion with his daughter, that he could meet RJ, suddenly, made you start crying everything you couldn't cry in Daryl's absence. Ever since Rick had arrived at the quarry, he knew how to be the older brother you never had, and he didn't stop taking care of you as much as he took care of the rest, but maybe he did put a little more effort into you and Carl, who looked for you and Michonne when he was about to commit some mischief.

When the family approached the car again, Michonne was the first to hug you, both stopping to look at each other with admiration and surprise a couple of times, your friend's hands playing with your hair while laughing and exclaiming It's shorter! What have you done with your hair?, unable to believe how short it was compared to how you had it a few years ago. Rick observed the scene with an expression that you couldn't decipher but, as soon as Michonne and the children moved away, he didn't hesitate to hug you with all his strength, swinging from one side to the other while he heard you laugh, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Where the hell have you been, Grimes?! How dare you leave us dealing with Negan by ourselves?" You joked, moving away but only a little, hugging him from the side. On the other side, Judith came over to hug him too. Rick watched his children with a love you had never witnessed in another person.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'm not planning on leaving you guys anytime soon." He said, nodding, extending one of his arms for RJ to fist bump. Only then did you notice that it wasn't his arm, but a black prosthesis. At that moment, you realized everything you had to tell each other, and how much they must want to see Alexandria.

"Well, then... The kids are on vacation and we were visiting Alexandria, are you coming with us?" You suggested, noticing the confusion between Michonne and Rick.

"Visiting? Where have you been living, then?" Michonne questioned, narrowing her eyes. Sighing, you gestured towards the car.

"There's a lot we have to tell you both. Okay, get in the car, we have a few miles left.”

And just like that, the Grimes family was making their arrival at the place they all loved the most. Along the way, you were able to tell them (with Judith’s comments and Dog’s interruptions in between) about how they came to the Commonwealth, what life was like there, and who was left behind. Rick had a lot to process about what had happened in these past few years, the most recent losses and also the additions to the family. His blank expression when he heard Negan befriended her —now— oldest daughter, and that he had saved her in the middle of a storm. He was also able to tell you and the kids about his time at the CRM, his reunion with Jadis, and how they managed to escape, although you were sure he had left out certain details so as not to upset his children.

As you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria and everyone got out of the car, the gates to the community opened to reveal Maggie, Aaron, and Lydia, the first two running to hug Rick and Michonne, while Lydia shyly approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's so nice to see you again, Y/N." She said, her head resting on your shoulder as you hugged her, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, kid. You're taller than the last time I saw you, slow down." You replied, ruffling her hair, turning to see Rick, who was hugging Maggie, Aaron waving at RJ and Jude while Michonne looked at the scene with the same admiration and tenderness as you did.

"I thought you promised to be here with Daryl next time you visit." Lydia said in a mocking tone, pretending to be upset, and while the comment brought a smile to everyone around you, you couldn't help but look at Jude and RJ, both with a sad expression, looking at you too. You didn't know what expression you had put on, but the weight on your chest had appeared again and you could see Lydia's face increasingly scared of the change of environment she had generated. "I—"

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, looking at you with clear concern on her face. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you noticed tears that you didn't know you were holding back falling, you shook your head.

"Daryl, uh... He left." You said as you nodded, looking down.

"What? When did he leave?" Rick's voice made you look up, noticing his confusion at the news that his best friend, his brother, wasn't there with them.

"He wanted to keep searching for you, said that couldn't let Michonne do it for herself. I haven't known anything about him since a few months ago.”

You heard Lydia gasp beside you, taking a few steps back to look at you in disbelief. The expression on everyone's faces ranged from confusion to sadness. No one imagined that Daryl could spend a day away from you, much less by his own will.

"And now what? We have to tell him Rick is here! He'll come back." Aaron reasoned, making the rest nod, agreeing with him. "We can try and track him—"

"I tried." You interrupted him, sighing heavily, thinking of all the times you ran away with the simple intention of finding something that would lead you to Daryl. "And Carol went looking for him, but some time passed too and I don't know where she could be anymore."

"Carol left too? You better be joking." Michonne exclaimed, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Seeing that you were unable to speak, you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, tears having taken over a large part of your face and throat, and she came over to hug you, Lydia taking a step back to let your friend comfort you. A few seconds later, you felt another body hug you from the opposite side, Maggie. Then, the children, Aaron, Rick and Lydia again.

"We're a family. We'll always find the way back home to us." Rick exclaimed, leaning his chin against his wife's head. Closing your eyes, you took that phrase from Rick as your next wish.

May we always find the way back home. May he find the way to us.

And the holiday seasons passed, and the seasons continued, but no one came home again. With each passing day, you lost your hope of ever seeing your lover and his best friend again, who happened to be one of your best friends too. Every time you looked in the mirror, your face looked familiar, but you could no longer see yourself. With the arrival of Rick and Michonne, Jude and RJ were no longer under your care, so —given their parents' decision to stay in the Commonwealth to continue their schooling— the four of them had moved into an apartment, not far from yours, leaving you with Dog and a deafening silence every time you entered the house. Curiously, despite having part of your family back, you found peace when you were away from everyone, and that's why you took advantage of continuing to escape from the community, without anyone knowing, sometimes managing to sneak past Dog on some occasion, who continued to seem to be looking for traces of his partner, of the one who brought him home.

And that's where you thought... If Michonne searched for Rick for so many years, if Rick continued to search for his way home despite everything, if Daryl didn't give up looking for Sophia, for Merle, for Rick, why were you behaving like that? Why were you moving further away from the idea of a reunion when there were people who fought and gave their lives to return to the people they loved? At that moment, in the middle of the class you were giving, is when you made the decision to go back on the road and look for Carol and Daryl, even if it meant giving up your life for it. Three knocks on the door made you turn to look, your students distracted enough not to notice the presence of Ezekiel, who was motioning for you to come closer. You looked at your group one last time before going out into the hallway, noticing that, next to him, there was a tall, skinny boy, with long, somewhat wavy hair. His eyes conveyed tranquility but at the same time, they seemed tired. Almost sad.

"Miss Y/N, this is Laurent, your new student. He flew all the way from France to be here." Ezekiel said with his signature smile. A surprised expression appeared on your face, seeing the young man in front of you smile shyly.

"Bienvenu." You exclaimed, extending your hand in Laurent's direction, who took it without hesitation.

"Merci. Parles-vouz français?" He asked, causing you to grimace, shaking your head from side to side.

"Just a little bit. Do you manage well with English?”

"Yes. I had a few good teachers." He said, shrugging. There was a certain calmness in his tone that you still couldn't quite figure out.

"Well, I'll let you both get back to class, but I need your presence at my office when your shift finishes, mrs. Y/N." Ezequiel instructed, making you nod as you waved at him, watching him walk away. When you looked back at Laurent, he was staring at you like someone who saw a ghost.

"Y/N? Do you know Daryl Dixon?" He asked, and the air caught in your throat. Your feet were no longer on the ground, everything around you seemed to stop. How did this kid, who just arrived from France, know Daryl?

"I, uh... Yeah, yeah, of course I know him. How do you know him? Have you seen him?" You asked back, desperation tangling in your words, and the boy seemed to notice as he nodded.

"We met in France, he helped me get to The Nest, but it didn't turn out so well..."

"The Nest? Sorry, Laurent, I really want to get to know you but," you said as you crouched down in front of him, gently taking him by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me if Daryl is alive, do you know that?”

"I haven't seen him the last time. Ash told us the plane wouldn't be able to fly with the four of us, so Daryl told me to fly with Carol, but—"

"Carol, you said Carol. A woman with short, gray hair?" At your question, Laurent nodded, making you let out a sigh of relief, but your heart was beating fast in your chest. "Okay, I'm sorry, keep going."

Laurent took a breath before continuing to speak. "Well, the four of us couldn't make it to the plane, so Daryl let the three of us fly, but Carol went out of the plane because we were being attacked by a group."

"Attacked?! But haven't you seen Daryl or Carol again?"

"No, mrs. Y/N, I was on the plane." The young man in front of you answered with some regret in his voice. You felt like you weren't making the best impression, but you couldn't help it. These were the two people you cared about most in the world, and you still didn't quite understand how the hell they had both managed to get to France. Sighing regretfully, you nodded a couple of times, disappointed at the idea of giving up, once again, the last clue you might have to Daryl's whereabouts. Standing up a little, but without moving your hands from Laurent's shoulders, you gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you for the information and I'm sorry if my first impression was not the best, Laurent. I'll tell you what? We're gonna introduce you to the class, and then we'll go for a slice of apple pie so you can tell me more about yourself, what do you think?" You asked, forcing yourself to smile at the boy in front of you. Laurent nodded, entering the classroom he would share with his classmates. Any fear you might have felt about the boy not being included was dispelled when you saw that the other kids were excited to meet someone who was not only not from the Commonwealth, but also came from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The day passed, and as you walked to the coffee shop alongside Laurent, you listened to his stories and his journey to get there. How he met Daryl, what he taught him, and the things he sacrificed to take care of him. He told you about his aunt Isabelle, and how she loved Daryl, assuring you that he loved her too, and how she braided her hair into a braid every morning, and the life she left behind to give one to him. And in that moment, with your heart a little crushed and tears threatening to fall, you noticed that the trees began to bloom, the sun was shining a little brighter, and maybe —just maybe— someone had heard your wishes. Laurent was the sign that everything was okay.

So you decided that from now on, everything would be okay.

For Laurent, for Daryl. For yourself.

Ezekiel had asked you to take Laurent under your care, trusting you because of the dedication everyone saw and had with Judith and RJ, so it became your personal project. If Daryl had decided that the boy was going to have a better life and sent him across the ocean, it was your duty to continue the work Daryl started. Every week, at least once or twice, you and Dog would go outside the walls when school was over, to practice with some weapons, and even travel beyond the Commonwealth. Judith, with whom he had become friends and debate partners, offered to give him lessons with the katana, although Laurent ended up preferring a bow and arrow, being his favorite weapon. You would never forget the hug he gave you when you gave him his first bow of his own, a smile from ear to ear as he said that now he could be like Daryl.

Rick and Michonne didn't waste any time and wanted to be a part of it too, when they were free from their respective jobs. RJ took the opportunity to sneak around older kids and bother them... sometimes, or almost always. With more people to look after the kids, all of you allowed yourselves to go a few miles further from the community, and although everyone had their guard up and didn't seem to be in any danger, beyond running into some lost walker, being a living person in an apocalyptic world never allowed you to be completely at peace.

While you were on the side of the road checking the SUV that seemed to have not survived the summer heat, Michonne had her eyes on the surroundings, while you and Rick tried to get the car to start so you could escape the hellish heat that was hitting the afternoon. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one leg out of the car, you looked out the window, watching the boys playing some game they had invented on the spot and laughing, making you smile, until your smile turned into a panicked expression.

“RJ, watch out!” You shouted, getting out of the car as you saw a walker approaching the youngest, who was a bit further away from the group and unarmed. He turned to look at you, scared, reacting in time and moving away from the dead one, Michonne being quick to cut his head off in a clean cut, rushing to hug her son. Rick looked up in alarm, calling them to come back closer to the car.

“Don't get too far, that was a lonely walker but there could be more, aight?” He questioned, approaching to adjust his son's hat, giving him a smile. The little boy nodded, knowing full well what his dad was referring to.

“Dad?” Judith said, reaching for the katana on her back as she looked towards the forest in front of you. As she looked towards the trees, a feeling of fear deepened in your stomach. It wasn't just a couple, but a big pack of walkers heading towards you, slowly but surely. There was no shelter, and the car still wasn't working. Circling the car as you pulled the knives out of their sheaths, you approached the group.

“Get in the car. Now.” You ordered. You weren't going to let your family expose themselves after everything they went through.

“Don't be stupid, you can't take them out by yourself. We need each other.” Michonne exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her katana. “Kids, get in the car.”

RJ nodded, running towards the car to get inside, but Judith had a hard expression, while Laurent didn’t know what to do.

“Laurent, get in the car with RJ and Judith. It's gonna be okay.” You instructed, and although the boy seemed hesitant, he ended up obeying, but not before looking once more at everyone, as if wanting to remember their faces in case something happened.

“Judith, I'm not gonna say it again. Get in the car with your brother.” Rick ordered through clenched teeth, noticing how the horde seemed to be getting closer. Jude tightened his hands around the handle of her katana, looking at her dad in the eyes.

“I can fight. I'll stay here.”

“You can fight but you shouldn't, get in the car.” His dad repeated, punctuating the last sentence. As you looked between them and the horde, you stepped forward, raising your knives, Michonne at your side in formation, watching the dead advance towards you. In the air, the heat seemed to be more unbearable than it really was, but the worst thing was the tension, the feeling that every minute that passed was an opportunity for the horde to reach you.

You were the first to act. Moving forward with confident steps towards the first walker that approached with one of your knives raised, you stabbed the blade between its eyes with precision, making it fall to the ground, inert. But, without time to stop, two other walkers lunged at you, making you drop one of the knives while its rotten hands searched for meat. You dodged the first one, but the second one reached you, its firm hand on your arm. You screamed at the force you were exerting to stop it from getting any closer than necessary, but quickly, Rick appeared at your side and, with a precise blow, cut off the head of the dead one that had attacked you.

“I got you.” He said, swinging his axe, while turning to look at Judith with a hard expression. “I won't say it again.”

And with that, the girl —more frightened from the look on her dad’s face than from the horde— ran towards the car, getting in the backseat along with the two boys.

Meanwhile, Michonne was at his side, swinging her katana back and forth with force. Each blow she delivered cut flesh and bone, but for every walker that fell, others seemed to rise from the shadows of the scorching heat. The road seemed to have filled with the dead, their number increasing with each passing minute.

The hot air mixed with the nauseating smell of decomposing bodies, and the sound of screams and blows became a macabre symphony. The ground burned beneath your feet, but neither Rick, nor Michonne, nor you stopped. You knew that survival depended on being precise and working together.

As you hit another walker in the head, the back of the knife sinking into its skull with a thud. Sweat blinded your eyes, but it didn’t matter. Danger was everywhere, and you weren’t going to let anything happen to your family, even if your life was at stake. As you got cornered from the wave of walkers that didn’t seem to end, you whistled to get your friends’ attention.

“Let’s get in the car and wait it out! We won't make it!” You shouted, pushing a walker to the ground as Michonne moved to stomp on its skull. Nodding slightly, they both backed away to the car, watching as Rick continued to take out walkers with his axe and the knife in his other arm, not stopping for a moment.

“Rick, let’s go!” Michonne shouted, making him turn to look at her. His face was splattered with blood, as were his hands, and you didn’t dare look at yours because you knew you were just as bad or worse than him. As the three of you ran towards the car, you got rid of the few walkers that posed a threat near the vehicle, both to get in and to the children inside. Upon reaching it, you waited for them to get in first so you could pretend to get in and close the door behind them, clinging to the car’s railing and quickly climbing onto the roof, listening to the muffled screams of your family from inside the car, which was inevitably being surrounded by the dead ones. Taking the gun that you had in the waistband of your pants and had decided not to use because of the noise and the small number of bullets, you began to shoot as much as you could at the walkers that got too close. The air was thick, all your movements seemed to be automatic, you didn't understand how this was your daily life before being in the tranquility of the Commonwealth. In the midst of getting rid of the dead, you couldn't help but remember Carol and Daryl as soon as they had arrived in Alexandria, saying that the walls could make the group weaker. That's how you felt at that moment: weak.

Weak when you pulled the trigger and you had no more bullets, and there was no way to get into the car without getting out and exposing yourself. Weak when you got on your knees, with one hand held on the railing, as you continued to sink the edge of your knife into the skulls of the walkers, and your lungs seemed to burn from the effort you were making, not knowing if what you felt on your face was sweat or blood, or both. Weak when you heard gunshots around you, and you couldn't do anything else but try to cover yourself with your arms, almost lying on the roof of the car, but being able to see out of the corner of your eye that the walkers were falling in numbers. The sound of bullets was deafening, but so was the pounding of your heart in your ears. Eventually, when the blast of lead stopped, you dared to look down, meeting a pair of blue eyes you knew well.

“Carol?”

“Hi, pookie.” She exclaimed with a smile as her expression trembled. Leaving the knife and gun on the roof of the car, you jumped out of it as she simultaneously threw her gun to the ground, her arms wrapping around your body tightly. As you rubbed her back, you could hear a sob from her, as well as the car doors opening, exclamations of excitement and surprise from the Grimes family. You couldn’t believe she was finally here, back.

“Aunt Carol!” The Grimes brothers shouted, approaching to hug their aunt. Slowly moving away, you wiped your cheeks, which you didn’t know if they were wet with sweat or tears. Turning to look at Rick and Michonne, both of them watched the scene with emotion, but without having said it out loud, you were all thinking of the same person, not noticing the figure that was a few meters away from you, lowering his crossbow until it rested on the ground.

It was hard for Daryl to believe the scene before him. His luck had been so twisted over the years that it wouldn't surprise him to be close to death once again and that what he was experiencing was a hallucination. He looked for some mistake in the moment, something that would indicate to him that Laurent hadn't arrived safe and sound, that his nephew and niece weren't hugging his best friend, that his brother and his partner were alive and together. But no, they all existed and were there, at that moment. Even the love of his life.

The love of his life was there, under the brightest sun he had felt on his skin since he had gone away, and suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. The weight of his actions and the regret of even his own thoughts made his head spin, but even as he repeated over and over the mistakes he had made since he left you, he dared to take a step forward, entering his family's field of vision. The first to turn around was Rick, who held his gaze with an emotion that could have knocked him to the ground. Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding in greeting, the lump in his throat not letting him formulate a word. Rick, being more demonstrative than he could be, advanced with long strides until he reached his best friend, hugging him with the same strength they hugged when Daryl was freed from Negan's captivity, when the imminent threat of war was upon them but they still had time to rejoice in knowing they were alive. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on the shoulder of his brother, of the man who forced himself to think he was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain and keep searching, more than once. Moving away so they could see each other, Rick laughed through his tears when he noticed that his best friend was crying too.

“Feels good to have you back, brother.” He said, patting the archer on the shoulder, to which he nodded.

“Feels good t'be back.” He replied, directing his gaze at Michonne, at Carol, his traveling companion, at the children, and finally at you, who seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing if he was a ghost or if that was really happening. “Not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.”

“You better not leave again, Dixon. I'll kick your ass, I'm not even kidding.” Michonne said, approaching with a smile so she could hug him, to which he happily responded. It was no news that physical contact was not something he completely liked, but he wouldn't avoid it. He wasn't going to avoid it this time. His hands were shaking from the exciting moment he was experiencing, and beyond the hug with Michonne, he could still watch you, unable to decipher your expression easily. Before he could react, as his friend walked away, the three kids rushed towards him, while he tried to hug them back. Carol was hugged on either side by Rick and Michonne, while you stood with your arms crossed watching the whole sequence.

“Knew you’d come back.” Laurent said, giving a smile to Daryl, who smiled back, nodding.

“I promised I would. I was still gonna find ya, whether you like it or not.” Daryl replied, playfully ruffling his hair. Judith, silently and being more perceptive than the other two children, carefully stepped away from her uncle, approaching you to take your hand. Her fingers intertwined with yours, causing you to look down at her. You responded with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before looking forward again, noticing Daryl approaching you. Before he could get much closer, you took a few steps forward, shortening the distance, bringing one of your hands, trembling, to his cheek. With your thumb you traced that scar that seemed to be more alive than ever, but that somehow, highlighted the color of his eyes. His lip busted, a black eye, another scar on his other cheek, multiple scars on his forehead and still, you saw the most beautiful man that ever existed. It was like the sunlight had transformed into a human form, and he was standing right in front of you, tilting his head against your palm. His hand went to your wrist, caressing it as he watched you, causing you to pull away. Daryl felt your touch on his skin like a burning heat, even though you were no longer touching him.

“I’m glad you're back, Daryl.” You said, your voice mentioning his name was music to his ears. He still couldn't figure you out and it was frustrating him, but he would let what had to happen happen. After all, he had used up every chance you had given him, and he knew he was wrong from the moment he got on his motorcycle to leave everything behind.

“I'm happy yer still here.” He dared to say, and it took everything in him to be able to find his voice in the midst of the anguish. With a half smile, you nodded, turning to look at your friends, your family, as you took a breath before speaking.

“So… are we ready to go home?”

The drive to the Commonwealth seemed to be quicker than it usually was. The car, as if by magic, had started up without any problems. The kids were more than happy to have their uncle back, Rick and Michonne were talking to each other, and you looked back through the windshield of the car at Daryl and Carol, who were coming behind you on Daryl's motorcycle that they had magically been able to find. You didn't want to know how that had happened.

Arriving home? That was another major event. Daryl hadn't been forgotten in the Commonwealth, and for every step he took, there was a different person greeting or welcoming him. Aaron, Maggie, and Lydia were happy to hear from him and Carol, asking them to go to Alexandria as soon as they could. As quickly as he could, Laurent went to get Dog, who kept wagging his tail and crying between barks as Daryl petted him. It took a while for the furry one to get away from his owner, but Laurent took him for a walk so Daryl could get on with what he had to do. Everything seemed to be falling back into place, but Daryl felt that the only thing he was missing was having a well-deserved talk with you, who disappeared as soon as they set foot inside the community. When the people stopped pestering him, he allowed himself a visit to the doctor (forced by Rick) who assured him that he was in perfect condition, beyond a few cuts or bruises here and there, which were healed and bandaged for his safety.

“Now you can go rest, you deserve it.” Rick said, hugging him by the shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. Daryl shook his head, looking ahead, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Nah. I gotta talk to ‘er.” He muttered, squinting as he felt the sun’s rays hit his face, now turning to look at his friend.

Rick nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, I know.” He said in a much quieter voice than before, searching for the right words before speaking again. “You and Y/N are the last people I saw at the bridge, you know? And that image was my best company for a while, as well as Michonne and Jude. I knew she had your back, and you had hers too. I found peace knowing that.”

Daryl, for the first time in a long time, let out a sob that he couldn’t control, quickly wiping away any trace of tears with the back of his hand. The weight of the people he’d lost, the times he’d walked away from everyone, the image of the bridge exploding, the search for Rick, the trip to France, continuing to run from the consequences of his bad decisions, having to let Isabelle go and Laurent face a new world alone. He felt tremendously responsible, but he felt even worse for leaving despite your asking him not to.

“I fail- I failed ‘er. She ain't supposed t’deal with all of this.” He said, trying to control the tremble in his voice, while Rick's hand pressed on his shoulder, letting him know he was there for him.

“None of us is supposed to deal with the bullshit we dealt, man. She stayed because she knew you were worth it,” taking a breath, he searched for his friend's gaze, failing in the attempt, “and I still don't know if I deserved Michonne’s loyalty, but she gave it to me, and now? I'm not gonna let that go, and you shouldn't either.”

With a pat on the chest, and noticing that Daryl wasn't going to respond with more than a nod, he walked him to the door of your apartment, before waving and leaving. With his heart pounding, he knocked on the door a few times, knowing that he could have locked himself in another time because that home belonged to him too. Noticing that there was no answer or noise from the other side, he leaned against the door, almost falling backwards when it suddenly opened. Looking around, he noticed that no one had opened it, but that the handle seemed to be faulty. If you weren't home, why was the door open?

Entering quietly, he closed the door behind him, observing his surroundings. Despite the time that had passed, nothing was too different. Order was always something that characterized you, and this was no exception: everything was where it should be. Approaching the fridge, he noticed some drawings made by Judith and RJ, even one made by Laurent, stealing a smile from him. A little higher up, there was a polaroid that he could recognize well. The group had recently arrived in Alexandria, and you were both on the stairs of the house you all shared the first night. He was sitting on the steps, one of his arrows in his hands while his crossbow was next to him, you sitting behind him, a few steps up, your arms around his shoulders with a huge smile on your lips, while he was focused on whatever he was doing with the arrow. He didn't remember who had taken the photo, but he couldn't believe that you still kept it, and that it was preserved without problems despite all those years that had passed.

“We were young, huh?” Daryl turned quickly, finding you behind him, at a safe distance, a cigarette between your fingers as you watched him with your head slightly tilted.

“Yer still younger than me, but uh... I'm sorry, I ain't—”

“I knew you were coming sooner or later, Daryl, it's okay. The door’s broken anyways.” You assured him, taking another drag of the cigar, letting out the smoke a few seconds later and using your opposite hand to break up that cloud. “You want one?” You asked, raising your hand to refer to the cigarette, him shaking his head without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder when you had started smoking, given that the smell had made you wrinkle your nose in disgust a while back.

“Nah, thanks. I wanted to talk to ya.” He said, shifting his weight on his legs while staring at you, trying to notice little things that changed in your face while he was away, but he couldn't find any. The only thing that was different was your hair, and you still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry, and thank you for taking care of Laurent. He's been through a lot and he's just a kid, so yeah, thanks.”

As he finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot at the words he chose. He wanted to run away and bury his head in the ground, so that no one would perceive him as a human being ever again.

“I did it from the heart and out of love, so you don't owe me anything. Not a thank you, not a sorry. I did it because I felt and knew it was the right thing to do, and because I knew you were sending him.” You started to speak, approaching the kitchen table, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray that was on it, right where Daryl stood on the other end. “You know? The day Laurent showed up, I had decided to go after you and Carol, but then he came along and I knew it was the sign that everything was okay. And maybe I held on to that illusion for too long, without any certainty since the day you left, but it was the first time in months that I felt and knew that everything would be okay.”

Daryl nodded, understanding what you meant, and knowing that there would be no way to apologize without you wanting to ignore it. “I wish I could’ve asked ya if ya wanted to take care of ‘im, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Laurent has been a great companion the last few months. He told me great things about you, about Isabelle.” You said as you sat down, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same, but he remained stuck in his place. His body seemed to be made of the heaviest material in the world, because he couldn't manage to move after what he had heard.

“Listen, I—”

“You don't have to expl—”

“I have to! I need to explain.” He interrupted you, exasperated. “When I left, it was never because of ya. Never. I thought I’d had the chance to make things right while I was away, but I didn't, I fucked it up like I always do. I couldn't protect the people I was ‘posed to protect. I promised Isabelle and I promised Laurent a new life here, a life where they could be free.”

Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned slightly, not daring to look you in the eye. “And I failed again, and the worst part is I realized that the only thing that kept me going was this.” Carefully, he reached under his shirt, taking that chain you had given him with your ring, making you gasp in surprise. You thought he might have lost it in all that time, but it turns out he never stopped having it around his neck. “T’was never Laurent or Isabelle or anything, it was you. I was worried outta my mind thinking how you’d be, if you were even alive. And fer every time I thought ‘bout giving up, you were the person I thought. Comin’ back home to ya.”

You didn’t know when, or how, but your cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears, trying to keep quiet as you listened to the man you loved with the strength of a thousand suns. Wiping your cheeks with the palm of your hand, you watched him walk around the table, stopping right in front of you, his hands cupping your face as gently as possible, feeling the leather of his gloves on your skin, while his thumbs caressed your cheekbones.

“I don't… I don't even know what to say.” You murmured, looking up to look at him, soaking in every little detail of his face once again. “I waited for those words for so long. I cursed your name too many times, only to beat myself up to think about you in that way. I'm sorry for not being the partner you needed, Daryl, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.”

The archer shook his head, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I told ya. You're more than enough, and I'm sorry for makin' you doubt it, it's me that's gotta say sorry.”

“I guess we're both sorry, but I'm scared, Dar.” You admitted, making him move away so he could see you. With a sound of effort, he squatted down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you scared about, sunshine?” He asked, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them. Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head, not knowing whether to say the next words or not.

“I'm scared of you leaving again. I can't stand another goodbye, not from you, not again.” Sighing in a ragged manner, you met his blue eyes watching you with understanding, without having to explain much more to understand. “And I also don't wanna be selfish, because it'll be cruel if I make you do something you don't want, but I can't help how I feel.”

“Listen to me, woman.” He ordered as soon as you finished speaking, perhaps seeming too eager to clarify what he felt. “I ain't leavin’, not again, not without you at least. Can we start over?”

“We'll stay, and we'll start over.” You said, nodding your head. Carefully, Daryl brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His forehead met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you smiled genuinely.

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

But maybe this time, just this time, you would give them another chance.

[jjaehyunnxie]

hide and seek

reader x perv!jisung

! MDNI, jisung is a slight pervert, voyeurism, haechan catches them

"Alright, everybody! Cheers!!" Haechan's loud voice fills the room as the clinking of the glasses ring, before everybody takes a big gulp out of their drinks.

A random act of kindness sparked Chenle when he offered to throw a party at his house. Everybody could swear there was something wrong with him but he insisted on it. And now here you all were. 8 people, all gathered up at one long table covered in food prepared diligently by Chenle and Jaemin (although, everybody offered to help them out). It was a rather wholesome scene. Something about everyone being gathered in one place, sharing conversations and enjoying the same food was so heart warming.

Looking at it carefully, Chenle's house really was huge. Marble flooring, tall pillars with neat designs on them, a ceiling that seemed to go way too high and large windows with a stunning view. Everything was big and expensive-looking. Weirdly enough, it fit Chenle's vibe perfectly.

You sat beside Jisung who was extra talkative today. He kept showing you things he's been into lately, ranting passionately to him. Jisung always mentioned that talking to you about these things made him happy and you knew there was probably no one else willing to listen to his rants so you gave in and offered him your full attention for most of the night, up until food was served and he got silent.

"Attention!" Haechan's voice makes everyone turn their head towards him, clinking his teaspoon on his almost empty glass of beer. "I say...how about, we play a game? A game that can only be played in such a large and beautiful house."

"What are you hinting at? Do you wanna burn my house down or something?" Chenle asks with a slight chuckle, expecting Haechan's response to be entertaining as always.

"Hide and Seek", Haechan says with a smile.

Everyone turns to eachother in confusion. Why such a childish game? You were all full grown adults so why bother with these things?

Donghyuck could feel the frustration growing from the members so he chooses to add something else. "Guys, come on! What's wrong with playing a fun children's game once in a while? Plus, it's not everyday you get to be in a mansion like this! We gotta use it to our heart's content!!"

"I'm in." Chenle says, his smile intrigued. So, once the host agreed to it, obviously everybody else agreed to it as well.

Spinning his empty soju bottle, the cap landed on Haechan. He tried to hide his excitement but it was too obvious he was enjoying this.

Thus, he ends up covering his eyes and counting 'till 20, while everyone else rushed to find a spot to hide. Secretly, everybody tried to make it so that Haechan doesn't succeed in finding anyone, just to see his pout as he swears for the nth time that he'll never play games with "you traitors". But to everybody's surprise, finding a spot to hide was harder than imagined.

At this point, everyone had already hidden. All the good areas you thought of were occupied and Haechan was already reaching the last 10 numbers. Suddenly, as if sent by the heavens, you see a closet in what seemed to be Chenle's room. You dash to it, opening it slowly while you take a second to pray that nobody was inside already. Your prayers were left to scatter as you see Jisung, standing cramped and uncomfortable.

There was just no way you could be this unlucky. Just as you were about to close the door to the closet, thinking about just giving up and turning yourself in - maybe help haechan find everyone else - Jisung grabs your wrist.

"Come in, there's still some space left." he whispers.

This sounded like a bad idea. I mean, you? Cramped up in a tight closet with Jisung? The guy that seemed to always stick to you like glue and that always stares at you with an oddly loving look from afar? Still, as you hear Haechan say "19...18...20!" you give in, quickly entering the closet, trying to take up as little space as the door closes, cutting off any source of light that was there.

Chenle's clothes were stacked on the right side of the closet, while the other side was left empty for any jackets to hang. Despite there being no coats hanging, your back was still pressed against Jisung's chest, cramped up in the tiny space that somehow seemed to be much larger.

For a long while you just hear Haechan's frustrated groans and complaints, "Just where did you guys hide!! Come on!!!" mixed with his confident cheers "Found you! See? I told you I'm good at this! Now help me find the rest...". Of course, all of this on top of Jisung's breathing that kept getting heavier and more uneven. His hands were ghosting over your figure, as if he was trying to shut up every voice in his head that told him to grab your waist or hips - just to touch you.

The limited space for movement was making your body numb. As you try to stretch your limbs, you suddenly feel something hard poke your ass. Jisung is quick to apologise, saying he didn't mean it, that it's just the situation - all the while, his hands were found secured on your hips, gripping them with little shame.

"Jie, what are you-?"

"Shhh...please. I'm sorry, okay? I can't help it..." he whines in a whisper. His apologises are a terrible contrast from his actions which slowly rub your hips on his bulge.

This was so wrong. Yet, why was he so cute? His soft pleads, his painfully desperate voice brushing over your ears as he tries his hardest to beg for you while also staying quiet. His crush on you being so obvious was already adorable in the first place, just how much cuter can this guy even get?

"Please, y/n. Just the tip...I'll be quick-fuck, I'll cum right away, I promise."

You just had to give in.

"Okay, okay. Be quiet, though. Hyuck shouldn't catch us..."

He nods rapidly. "I'll do anything. He won't catch us. I promise you." Jisung rambles empty promises as you can hear the soft clinking of his belt being unbuckled and his zipper quickly pulled down in a swift motion. His hand slides under your skirt, fingers tugging at your panties before pushing them aside. He groans at how wet you already are. You're just as perfect as he always imagined. Plush pussy, glossed and ready for his dick.

He wastes no time, slipping his tip in with ease, earning a shaky exhale from him. He pushes in and out of you, slipping his tip in and out. But with every slide, it feels as if he tries to go deeper.

"Shit, baby. I'm sooo sorry, I need your pussy so bad." he whines as he shoves his whole length in you, finding a steady pace as he thrusts deep. His left hand slithers to your chest, squeezing your breast tightly, while his right hand goes under your skirt, rubbing your clit.

"Y-You said only the-fuck" your moans became more and more difficult to keep quiet, desperate whines that were impossible to not hear from outside.

His hand rushes to your mouth, muffling your moans as his thrusting picks up speed. "It's okay, I'm almost done. Just a little more, okay?" he pleads with a shaky voice, large hands wrapped around your body as the wet sounds of skin slapping filled the small, cramped up area.

"Oh, shiiit, y/n. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in this tight pussy...'s all yours..."

Unable to warn him about your orgasm approaching as well, it takes you over, cunt clamping down hard on his length as he lets out desperate cries and pleads, continuing to fuck into you silly.

He doesn't last long before his cock shoots its ropes of hot cum in you with stuttering hips, his body left trembling and struggling to keep you up on your feet.

He rushes to stuff his softened dick back in his pants, trying as hard as he can to hide any evidence of his doings but is only startled when Haechan opens the door to Jisung zipping his pants up and you, struggling to stand up and a fucked out expression on your face.

"You guys are seriously unbelievable. If you hadn't finished then, I would've come in myself to finish it off." He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Searched the whole villa for you two, only to find you having your own 7 minutes in heaven."

[astayinwonderland]

We can stay like this forever | lee taeyong

pairing: taeyong x f.reader

genre: smut | romance | exes to lovers

wc: 1.4k

summary: you and taeyong broke up two months ago so you call him with one purpose in mind.

warnings: unprotected sex (don't), pet names (sweet, baby), pussy slapping, cumming inside... lmk if I forgot anything.

“You don’t have to give this back, you know?” 

“Yeah… but I want to. I need to,” you reply calmly. 

Taeyong looks at the box filled with tangible memorabilia of your time together. The time that surely was a highlight in his life. He was blissful and felt invincible with you. He was so in love–no, he is still in love. He just can’t put together how a silly argument ended up in you two breaking up. 

When you texted him to come over, he was hopeful. Were you willing to give him a second chance and get back together? All thoughts of his wish coming true evaporate when you greet him with that stupid box. He doesn’t want the box. He doesn’t need the box. His hoodies, letters, plushies… everything is yours. He is yours, even though you seem not to see it. 

“It’s good to see you, my sweet,” he smiles, his eyes seeking something in yours. Some type of sign that you are still you. Some type of sign that you might still maybe love him. 

You immediately close your eyes as soon as you hear my sweet leave his lips. It is indescribable what those two words do to you. You missed him so much, but he never called or showed up once you broke up. How could he want you back? You know you are not perfect, but the love you have for him makes you better. It makes you feel real and seen. Of course, that was when you were together. This is why you have to give everything back. It is just too much to have things reminding you of Taeyong. 

“Good to see you too,” your voice is soft, barely audible. You can’t look at him, you’re afraid you’d break and cry. 

Before Taeyong can break the awkward silence that followed, the rumble of thunder makes you jump. 

“Is it raining?” you ask, making your way to the window. 

Outside you can see how the weather’s changed. Grey-to-black clouds pour rain so heavily you can’t see much outside. You sigh and as you turn Taeyong is right there. His beautiful eyes stare right back at yours. 

“You scared me,” you laugh, attempting to clear the awkwardness. 

“I guess I should go… It was– a real pleasure seeing you, my sweet.” 

“You really like calling me that, don’t you?” 

Taeyong laughs, making you swoon. He has the loveliest laugh, you’ve always said so. 

“Of course,” he comes a bit closer. “You always will be my sweet.” 

“You can’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?” 

“What happens when you are dating someone else?” 

Silence. 

The truth is, you regret the words that came out of your mouth. Just thinking about it hurts so bad. 

“I don’t want to date anyone else,” he softly holds your hand, drawing circles with his thumb. 

Suddenly you can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. 

“Uh– I should probably go…” he continues. 

“No, wait! You can’t leave it’s pouring out there.” 

“You sure you want me to stay?” 

You nod. He shamelessly looks at your lips, making a silent prayer you would let him kiss him. Even if it is the last time he gets to kiss you. 

“Fuck, baby,” and you just throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so tight. 

“I miss you,” he whispers. 

So you kiss him. Your body goes against the voice inside your head that asks you to stop, you broke up. But the way he melts into you tells you to keep going. Taeyong’s arms hold you firmly against him, almost as if he is scared that you will change your mind and run away from him. 

He sucks on your bottom lip and you lose all sense of time. You should have never broken up, he is the light in your path of darkness. Removing your clothing you guide him to your bedroom, where you’ve shared countless nights of passion, long talks, and binge-watching TV. You gently push him onto the bed, his eyes spark as he can’t hide his excitement. 

“Is– is this okay?” he asks. 

“Yes,” your voice is almost a breathy moan. 

So Taeyong thanks the heavens and immediately latches his mouth to your right nipple sucking as his hands caress your body, worshipping it. You close your eyes, lost in his touch, his breathing, his praises. 

“I missed you so much, my sweet. You’re perfect. All I want is to make you feel good, make you never forget me.” 

“How could I ever?” 

You pull his hair and a low groan leaves his mouth. Smiling, he stops to kiss your thighs, all the way to your clothed core. He can smell your arousal and feel how wet you are for him, you haven’t changed a bit and he is glad. Two months without having you was being in hell. Your moans get louder as he licks your entrance on top of the soaking fabric of your panties. 

Done with the teasing, you pull them down. 

“Please, baby– fuck me. I need you so bad,” you cry. 

Taeyong wants to take his time with you, but he can leave that for round two if you let him. Right now he will give you whatever you want like it’s his life mission because it is. The way your lips kiss him makes his heart beat so fast he feels it will burst out of his chest. You help him get rid of his clothes and kiss his chest, making a stop on his chest tattoo that drives you so insane. 

“Show me how much you’ve missed me, baby.” 

“You have no idea, my sweet.” 

He positions you to face down on the mattress, ass up, granting him perfect access to your cunt. Slender fingers tease your hole as his other hand pumps his erection. As Taeyong enters you, pleasure course your entire body. This is the man of your dreams, your perfect pair, fucking you till your eyes roll back. His cock, wet in your arousal abuses your hole, again and again, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust into you, fast. He missed this feeling. You are so warm, so sweet, so perfect. 

“We were made for each other. Shit… you feel so good, so– incredible.” 

You moan in response your face weighing on the mattress. Taeyong put one of his hands down your clit and slapped hard he earns a muffled cry. 

“I wanted this so much… faster.” 

And he obeys. He obeys because anything that comes out of your mouth automatically is an order for him. He is doomed and he knows it, he is in love. And to be honest, he wouldn’t like it any other way. 

Beads of sweat drip off his forehead as he rams into you, eager to make you cum. When his fingers pinch your clit and start moving in circles, adding pressure to it, you lose all composure. You are crying, pleading, moaning his name. 

“Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong…” 

How pretty his name sounds coming from your mouth. His other hand moves to your shoulder and he pulls you upwards, your back colliding with his chest as he keeps fucking you, now hitting that spot inside you. You see stars, you are so close. 

Taeyong kisses your neck, sucking your sensitive spot he knows so damn well. 

“Baby, I’m so close… f-fuck–ah!” 

“Me too. Cum for me! I wanna hear you…”

With a few more thrusts his warm cums fills you as he cries in your ear after his release, triggering your orgasm. It’s so intense your head feels lighter than a feather and your legs tremble. Taeyong holds you near him or else you will fall. He kisses your temple and shoulders again and again. 

“My sweet, sweet girl…” he breathes in your ear as you both come down from your high. 

You find yourself between Taeyong’s arms, cuddling, eyes closed. The box you once planned to return is already forgotten in your living room. Not a word is spoken, is like time didn’t pass and you want to stay here until the end of time. 

“I never stopped loving you,” you confess, eyes still closed. 

Now he hugs you even tighter. 

“Me neither.” 

“Can we stay like this for a while? you ask. 

“We can stay like this forever…” he kisses your cheek.

----------------------------------

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

but my love for this man ain't... ˜ masterlist

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 5

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / Next

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.

“When that man went to far, you slayed him without second thought, but now, when a woman does the same, you let her off with a warning. Why?” A voice sounded. As she looked around no-one else seemed to have heard it. She wanted to reply, but had no clue how, would she have to speak aloud?

“I’m in your head, there no need to speak.” Well, that cleared one thing up, she still had no idea who it was, or how they could get in her head. Was she going insane? Or had the sleep deprivation finally caught up to her.

She’d given the man, the same courtesy she’d given Agathe, but while Agathe had realized she’d gone to far, the man had doubled down on his behaviour. Both Ares and Dionysus had given her permission to protect the priestesses.

If Agathe had not stopped, she wondered what she would’ve done. The choice was easy to make if she had divine permission, but if she hadn’t been granted that, what would she have done? Stop her and possibly face the wrath of an angry God? She imagined Dionysus would not take kindly to an attack on his priestesses.

Even if had not minded it, would she be willing to face the consequences in town? Agathe was very influential, her mother would not forgive her, she’d be living a personalized hell. And what of Irene? She was incredibly fond of the girl and could not imagine how hurt she would be.

“You mortals are so, Complex. All those feelings, and rules, and repercussions.” Mortals? Not another God. Gods had only brought death in her life. If her past was anything to go by, this exchange was not a good omen.

“Now, now, I never told you to stop playing. I just wanted to pick at your brain a bit, see what all the fuss is about. You’ve caught quite a few eyes, you know.”

Poseidon had used up all his energy to call off the storm after his humiliating fight with Odysseus. Healing would take some time, but he was mortified at the idea of anyone seeing his godly form so injured. He pushed himself even further, just so he would not be recognized in his wounded state and then he promptly passed out.

When he woke up he was disoriented, without opening his eyes he realized he was on something softer than sand or stone. There was more covering his figure then when he’d fallen asleep, when he opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a room. A very pretty girl was sleeping on a chair next to the bed he was on.

For a moment it distracted him from the fact that he had no clue how he’d gotten here. Wherever here was, anyways. In addition to that, the pretty girl was covered in blood.

The things that covered him turned out to be bandages, but they could’ve been laced with poison, for all he knew. He had to get out, and quick, but his body betrayed him. Every movement felt like he was getting stabbed all over again.

He’d been caught off guard when the previously sleeping girl chastised him for ruining her handiwork. So, she’d been the one to patch him up, then. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried because of that. For a moment he thought the blood that stained her must have been his, but then he noticed her wounds and the bloody axes by the door.

Soon after he woke up she’d left. His voice had been croakier than he’d expected. How long had he been out for? He’d smiled at the prayer the girl had sent his way, how amusing, sending a prayer to a God, all the while he’s in your home.

The next day had been more eventful, he’d not seen the girl when he initially awoke, but when he heard someone rummaging in the other room he figured she must have slept there. He’d kept his eyes closed as he heard her return and leave once again, but not before checking on him. Once he thought she wouldn’t return anytime soon he started prying off his bandages again.

They’d been neatly wrapped around him, he’d almost found it a waste to remove them, but he had to see his wounds for himself. He was a God damn it; he should’ve healed by now. Of course, that would be the time that the woman decided to walk inside. She’d helped him, offered him a bath. He could not stop himself from teasing her.

He’d expected her to run away like a blushing virgin or jump his bones, the former was more likely after her reaction to his actions, but she’d gritted her teeth and actually helped him. He’d hoped for the latter. Poseidon, or Perikles as he’d introduced himself as, had taken many lovers in his life, but not many were as beautiful as she.

Her friendship with the prince had been a shock, for someone who lived as humbly as she, to be close to a member of the royal family? It was unheard of. Then there was the fact that this was the son of the man who’d done this to him, who’d caused him this pain. He’d not had the chance to talk much with the girl that day, but she intrigued him.

What business did she have at the temple, who’s temple was it anyway? Where’d she learn to play the lyre like that? Why was Athena following her and her friend? Where was her family? Surely a girl her age would not live here alone? From what he’d observed the shack she called home was quite secluded. Was she widowed? She was hardly of age to be married, so likely not.

Who was Ónoma, and why had she been covered in blood?

Next

Taglist:

@suckerforblondies

@barrythestrawberry041

[marauderslibrarian]

hiii i’ve never done this before ahah so i hope u see this!!

do u have any marauders fics which are inspired by greek mythology? hopefully ships like wolfstar and jegulus and such!!!

btw i love ur blog (anon because my acc is kinda embarassing haha)

Hi there!

I hope you enjoy the fics I've picked out :) The majority will be sad, though, so be warned. (Yes, I've added more ships than what you asked for, but some people also come to me for less mainstream ships haha.)

don't look back (by ANNALOVESBARRYALLEN) -

After Regulus Black dies during the First Wizarding War — sacrificing himself to weaken Voldemort — James Potter, grieving and unwilling to let go, descends into the underworld to bring him back. But just like Orpheus, he must follow one rule — he cannot look back.

The Voice that Urged Orpheus (by thenotyetpublishedpen) -

Remus watched the green light fade far too slowly from the room, pulling all color with it. Or perhaps the world had always been this instantly, achingly, empty. He ran forward, pulled by an invisible line to the arch, compelling him to follow. He would have. He wanted to. Damn the killing curse, damn the arch, Sirius was just right there, just on the other side. He could reach him. He had to.

Remus decides to bring Sirius back from beyond the veil.

Definitely Lovers (by alibraryofsoulsandstars) -

After becoming slightly obsessed with Greek tragedies, Regulus decides that there are three stages of love—flying, falling, and drowning. But whether he’s Icarus or Patroclus, does it really matter? He’s still doomed—especially when it comes to James.

Wings of Wax, and Stars Ever So Close (by 4_the_tainted_sorrow_21) -

“What is a star if not a distant sun?”

Regulus Black is not Icarus. No, that is James Potter. It is he who orbits the not-so-distant sun that is Regulus. It is he who will do anything in his power to protect the one he loves.

of love and loss (by Perkiset) -

Why is it that the greatest loves always end with the greatest tragedies?

What would you be willing to do, to get your happy ending?

Mother's Prayers (by heartofspells) -

It could be obsession. Remus likes to call it love.

an endless sky of honey (by colgatebluemintygel & pjxckson) -

After breaking his father’s most absolute law, Sirius is exiled to the shadowy Underworld, where all dead and forgotten things go. There, his dreams are haunted by memories of a lost love he was made to forget, and his waking moments are haunted by Death, the mysterious ruler of the Underworld, who Sirius finds himself increasingly drawn to…

Even before I was touched, I belonged to you (orphaned) -

Once, and once only, she told her of an ancient myth. A poet losing his beloved bride to a snake bite. Filled with despair, he crawled down to the Underworld to plead for her life. His song charmed the god of death, who took mercy and granted the poet his wish on one condition: he'd have to exit hell without turning back, trusting his beautiful lover was right behind him. Just before reaching the top, his love befogged his thinking and he turned, only to watch her vanish into dust.

Marlene's never told anyone this.

Marlene thinks she wouldn't be so dumb. Marlene knows she would have never turn around, never risk her lover's life for a glimpse. Marlene knows a second is worth nothing in the face of forever.

Marlene always looks at Dorcas anyway.

Hand in Hand (by Unreliable_Narratorr) -

Barty sighed, pausing for a moment. “Y'know…” he started and Evan groaned, he had that look in his eyes.

“I bet you can't walk all the way back to the hotel room with me behind you without looking back.”

A God's Love (by MysticNamgi) -

"Regulus knew loneliness so intimately it was part of him. He woke up to its gentle probing, let it cloak him throughout the day, and slept cuddled up to its side. He had no reprieve from it, no salvation. It was the one thing that stayed, persisting, during his long life."

[the-mortuary-witch]

SATANISM INFO

WHAT IS THEISTIC SATANISM?

Theistic Satanism, otherwise known as traditional Satanism, is a religion where we worship one or more supernatural beings. Our major deity, Lord Satan, is often viewed as a father/brotherly figure. Although, some theistic Satanists actually believe in a version of the Egyptian God “set”.

Regardless of which one you believe in, none of them resemble the Christian Satan (we do not worship the biblical Satan). They both share the qualities of the symbolic Satan, which are sexuality, pleasure, strength, and rebellion against Western mores. Satan as an entity can be found all throughout Paganism as several different Gods.

The same role, the same realm, etc. He also traces back all the way to the Egyptians. The term “Satan” originated in Judaism as a title for those who were opposers and accusers, many people held that role, not just one. The role can also be seen throughout different Pagan Gods as well. Many demons hold the role of a Satan, there is not just one. They are not all abrahamic and certainly are not evil.

Theistic Satanists follow a more Pagan lifestyle, as it is considered a Pagan religion. Therefore, the Satan we follow also has Pagan aspects. Not biblical whatsoever. Worshipping the biblical Satan and believing he is not evil is actually Diabolism, not Theistic Satanism.

Theistic Satanists never have and never will worship the biblical Satan.

Don’t listen to anyone who says we do and that there is “only one” Satan. They’re very uneducated.

WHAT IS ATHEISTIC SATANISM?

Atheistic Satanism, otherwise known as LaVeyan Satanism, is an atheistic branch of Satanism made in 1966, where you do not believe in a supernatural being, rather they view Satan as a symbol. There is no God nor Satan, the only “God” is the Satanist themself.

Atheistic Satanism is a religion that questions authority, stands up for the truth and fights for justice.

Atheistic Satanism also takes part in magic and rituals of self-empowerment and therapy (not everyone does, but many do). As defined by LaVey, Satanism is celebration of the self. It encourages people to seek their own truths, indulge in desire without fear of sociable taboos and perfect the self.

UNDERWORLD GODS:

• Cerberus: Hound of Hades, guarded the gates of the Underworld and prevented the escape of the shapes of the dead.

• Charon: ferryman of the dead.

• Cronus: King of the Titanes, and the hod of time.

• Erinyes: three goddesses of vengeance and retribution.

• Hades: King of the Underworld and god of the dead.

• Hecate: hoddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, moon, ghosts, and necromancy.

• Hermes: the guide of the dead who led souls down to the Underworld.

• Hypnos: god (or Daimon) of sleep.

• Moirai: three goddesses of fate.

• Nyx: the goddess of the night.

• Persephone: Queen of the Underworld and goddess and spring growth.

• Thanatos: god (or Daimon) of non-violent death.

FAQ:

HOW CAN I ASK A DEITY RESPECTFULLY THAT I WOULD LIKE TO WORK WITH THEM?

To ask a deity respectfully that you would like to work with them, you could say something like this:

"Dear (deity's name),

I have heard great things about you and feel a connection to your energy.

I am seeking guidance and knowledge, and I was wondering if you would be willing to work with me?

If you are interested, please let me know what I need to do to establish a connection with you.

Thank you for considering my request,

(Your name)."

After you have written the note, you can either keep it as a record of the prayer or dispose of it in a way that demonstrates respect and gratitude. If you decide to keep it, you can place it in a special box or file to keep as a reminder of your connection with the deity. For disposal, you could burn the note as an offering to the deity, to represent sending the message with your intention and energy. Or, you could bury the note in the ground, as a way of returning it to the earth and giving thanks for the energy and guidance you received.

IS THERE A TIME LIMIT TO LEAVING OFFERINGS OUT FOR DEITITES?

There is no specific time limit for leaving offerings out for deities. You can leave offerings for as long as you feel that they are needed or wanted, and then take them away when you feel the connection has been made or when you feel it has run its course. It's important to be respectful of the deities and to approach offerings with the intention of connecting with them rather than simply "paying tribute." As long as you're mindful and respectful of the deities and their energies, you can leave offerings for as long or as short a time as you wish.

DO I NEED TO ASK EACH DEITY IF THEY WOULD LIKE TO WORK WITH ME BEFORE PRAYING TO THEM?

It's not necessary to ask each deity if they want to work with you before praying to them. However, it can be a good idea to do so out of respect and as a way of establishing a connection with them. Each deity has their own personality and energy, and different deities may be more or less willing to work with you based on your compatibility and their own interests. By asking first, you're showing consideration and respect for the deity you're wanting to work with, and they may be more likely to respond positively to your request.

CAN I USE ONE ALTAR FOR PRAYING TO MORE THAN ONE DEITY?

Yes, you can absolutely use one altar for praying to more than one deity. Each deity has their own energy, but using one altar is a convenient way to streamline the process. By having one altar, you can create a space for all your deity work, saving time and effort on setup and cleanup. Additionally, you might find that the synergy of multiple deities on one altar provides an even greater connection between you and the deities you're working with.

CAN I PRAY TO MORE THAN ONE DEITY IN A DAY?

You can absolutely pray to more than one deity in a day. Each deity has their own energies, so it can be beneficial to invoke different deities at different times for different purposes. For example, you might pray to Lucifer in the morning to gain strength and confidence, and then pray to Lilith in the evening to gain insight and inspiration. There's no right or wrong way to work with different deities, so feel free to experiment and find what works best for you.

DO I ALWAYS NEED TO GIVE OFFERINGS TO DEITIES I WORK WITH?

No, you do not always need to give offerings to the deities you work with. It's a matter of personal preference and the individual relationship you have with the deity. Some people give offerings to establish a connection and build a relationship of respect and reciprocation. Others may have a different arrangement with deities that may not involve offerings, such as exchanging energy or favors. Ultimately, it is up to you and the deity to determine what arrangement works best for both of you.

DO I HAVE TO USE A HAND SIGN WHEN PRAYING?

Some people feel that using a hand sign or gesture when praying to a deity can help you to better connect with their energy and express your intentions. However, it's not a requirement. The important thing is to make sure that you are being sincere and genuine in your prayers. The deity you are speaking to won't require any specific gestures from you, so focus on communicating your true feelings and desires.

CAN I USE THE SAME OFFERING BOWL FOR OFFERING STUFF TO MANY DIFFERENT DEITIES?

Yes, you can absolutely use the same offering bowl to make offerings to multiple deities. This is quite common and can be a respectful way of showing gratitude to multiple deities or expressing your devotion to a variety of energies and forces.


When making offerings to multiple deities, it's important to keep in mind the differences in their energies and preferences. You should make sure to choose items that are appropriate and relatable to each of the deities you are offering to. You can experiment and see what combination of offerings seems to suit the different energies you are working with best.

WHAT DO I DO AFTER OFFERING A PHYSICAL OBJECT TO A DEITY THAT I CAN’T BURN, EAT, OR DRINK?

After offering a physical object to a deity that you can't burn, eat, or drink, you can keep the offering as a sign of devotion and appreciation. You could display the object on an altar or shrine dedicated to the deity, or place it in a special spot in your home as a reminder of your connection with them. The important thing is to show respect and gratitude for the deity's presence and influence in your life.

It's up to you whether or not you would like to cleanse the object after offering it. Some people believe that offering items to deities can create a spiritual connection or attachment between the deity and the object, and that a cleansing can help to reset the energy and clear out any negative energies that may be lingering. If you feel drawn to cleansing the object, it can be a good way to ensure that it is a pure and clean vessel for the energy of your deity.

WHAT CAN I USE TO CARVE A DEITY’S SIGIL OR RUNES INTO THEIR CANDLES?

• A sharp, pointy object such as a knife or pin.

• Sewing needle.

• Wood-burning pen or tool.

• A marker or felt tip pen.

• The edge of a metal object (e.g. a pen or paperclip).

• Paintbrush: to apply acrylic or oil paint for more elaborate designs.

• Small tool: You can also use a small chisel or carving tool to carve the shape of the sigil or rune into the candle.

WHAT CAN I USE TO CLEANSE AN OBJECT?

• Moonlight: exposure to moonlight can be a powerful way to cleanse an object of negative energy.

• Natural cleaning agents: you can use natural cleaning agents such as salt water or herbal infusions to cleanse an object.

• Smoke: burning incense or white sage is a common way to clear negative energies and cleanse objects.

• Sound: you could also use sound such as bells, chimes, or chanting to help remove any unwanted attachments to the object.

• Energy clearing: some people utilize reiki or other forms of energy clearing to remove negative energies from an object.

• Burning herbs or sage (or other cleansing materials): is a common and straightforward way to cleanse and purify an object.

• Sound cleansing: playing certain tones, mantras, or frequencies to cleanse is a simple and effective method.

• Water cleansing: spraying water or soaking an object in purified water is a simple and effective way to cleanse and purify it.

• Crystals: using crystal energy and/or placing crystals on or around an object is a unique and effective way to cleanse and purify it.

HOW CAN I TELL IF SOMETHING IS A SIGN FROM A DEITY OR IF IT’S JUST A COINCIDENCE?

• A physical sensation or feeling: when you pray or meditate and experience a physical sensation or feeling that feels distinct or out of the ordinary, it could be a sign from a deity, especially if the feeling is unexpected or unaccounted for.

• An unexpected event or occurrence: sometimes, something unexpected or out of the ordinary can be a sign from a deity.

• Change in energy or vibe: if you notice a noticeable shift in the atmosphere or energy of the space, it could be a sign from a deity, as energies can be very strongly felt and can often be very distinctive.

• Sudden synchronicity or coincidence: when you notice something that feels too uncanny or too specific to be just a coincidence, it could be sign from a deity, as they often communicate through synchronicities and meaningful coincidences.

• Unexpected thought or feeling: when you experience an unexpected thought or feeling that feels out of place or unusually strong, it could be a sign from a deity.

HOW TO RESPECTFULLY DISPOSE OF A BURNED OUT CANDLE THAT WAS USED FOR A DEITY?

When you have burned out a candle that you used for a deity, you can dispose of it in multiple ways, depending on your personal beliefs and practices. You can either bury it in the ground, recycle it and dispose of it as a normal candle, or discard it in a ritualized manner. It's important to take into account the candle's symbolism and your relationship with the deity you used it for. This will help you decide on what disposal method is right for you and your practice. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide how to dispose of the candle properly and honor the deity.

CAN I LIGHT ALL MY DEITIES CANDLES AT ONCE?

Yes, you can light all of your deities candles at once. It is appropriate to honour each deity in their own way, and lighting candles is a common way to dedicate offerings and prayers to your deities. You can either light each candle individually, with a specific prayer or dedication to each deity, or you can light all of the candles together with a single prayer or dedication for all of the deities collectively. The choice is up to you and how the candles resonate with you and the deities that you seek to connect with.

[adainesjacket]

prompts inspired by the mountain goats

a collection of mountain goats lyrics to use for writing/roleplaying prompts! some angsty, some romantic, some just for fun.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway"

"when you punish a person for dreaming his dream, don't expect him to thank or forgive you"

"i did not come here to suffer"

"how come there's peacocks in the front yard?"

"i am coming home to you if it's last thing that i do"

"and it was hard but you were brave, you are splendid and we will never be alone in this world"

"people say friends don't destroy one another. what do they know about friends?"

"name one thing about us two anyone could love."

"the dice were loaded against us ever seeing each other, but one of us had nowhere else to go"

"you turned to me and asked me if i'd always be your boy"

"this is an empty country, and i am the king, and i should not be allowed to touch anything"

"and the spirit wasn't really willing anymore, but the flesh was very very strong"

"you can arm me to the teeth - you can't make me go to war."

"every story needs a child who believes the hero's gonna be just fine"

"it never hurts to give thanks to the local gods. you never know who might be hungry."

"but if you think I'll take a bullet for you - you're dreaming."

"i personally will stab you in the eye with a foreign object."

"listen, you can tell your lawyer that he can go to hell"

"thank you for the candy. thank you for the flowers. thank you for the sofa. thank you for the radio."

"tell me why you made threats against the life of the prime minister of canada. that was not a nice thing to do."

"what's with all the portugese water dogs?"

"i'd like to repeat the question. what's with all the portugese water dogs?"

"selling acid was a bad idea. selling it to a cop was a worse one."

"i said a small prayer for the poor and the naked and the hungry and i prayed real hard for you"

"an astronaut could have seen the hunger in my eyes from space"

"if not by faith, then by the sword"

"you don't wanna see these guys without their masks on"

"some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel."

"there will be goodbyes by dozens, so practice being brave"

"i have high unicorn tolerance."

"check me out: i'm young and ravishing!"

"you can't give me back what you've taken, but you can give me something that's almost as good"

"you're gonna have to steal what you need"

"might you look up at me and wave goodbye?"

[midnight-bay-if]

Alright, everyone else gets angst posting, I’ll give it a shot.

How would the RO’s react to some sort of spell being cast on the MC, making them think their father is there? Some sort of ploy to get the MC closer to them, probably for harm.

Loving the story so far!!! :)

(Ouch, this hurts... My fellow pain enjoyers, rejoice! Also, apologies that this took so long to get to.)

S: They see it. The clarity in your eyes fog over, the once bright light filling with murky water. It's a sight S has witnessed often. You have been hit with a powerful curse to dominate your mind and fill your head with painful visions.

"Dad..."

You whisper the familial title like a solemn prayer, reaching out into the empty space before you, and S's chest lurches. They do not hesitate to act. In moments, they stand in front of you, grasping your face with both hands as they stare into your eyes, filling your vision with them rather than what they can only imagine coaxes you behind them.

"It isn't real. Look at me," they order, pressing their forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, my love, but it isn't real. Whoever has cast this curse on you means to harm you, and I will not let that happen. Keep your eyes closed, darling. Keep them closed until I can take it away."

Rain: Rain doesn't understand what is happening. One moment, both of you were enjoying a bit of banter, a playful back-and-forth with teasing insults, before it stopped. Everything stopped.

"MC?"

Nothing. Then, something. You look straight past them as you call out to the darkness. "Dad..."

"Oh, no."

In a flash of realisation, Rain steps between you and the apparition. Anybody or anything willing to conjure up an image of your greatest wound does not have good intentions, but Rain cannot fight what they do not see.

"I'm sorry for this, MC," they whisper, clasping a hand firmly over your eyes. "Your dad isn't there, MC, I promise you that. I'm so sorry that I can't make it different."

Taj: Taj senses it before they see it. Something in the air, like a crack of electricity whipping across their skin. It causes the scars to ache. Then, Taj turns to you, ready to ask if you are sensing something similar. But what they are greeted with terrifies them.

Your usual colourful eyes have dampened as if a dark smog is purposefully shutting out the light. It scares them.

"Dad..."

Taj watches as you reach for an empty space, an lifeless smile on your face.

"Oi, Koel, snap out of it." Taj snaps in front of your face, their heart beating rapidly in their chest. When you keep reaching out to nothingness, Taj grabs your hand and holds it to their chest. "There's nothing there, so stop it. Please."

When even that doesn't seem to work, Taj snaps. "Oh, fuck it." With their forehead pressed firmly against yours, they hold you in place.

"Listen to me right now. Your dad is dead. You spent your entire life fucking shit up because of it, and I fuckin' love you for that. No matter how shit things got, you never gave up. So don't you dare fall to this now. Ya hear me?"

N: N knows dark magic when they see it. They are sure to some their magic could be considered dark. In their opinion, a little mind-reading wasn't really hurtful... Well, that was what they believed until meeting you. Now, they see you reaching out into nothing and feel their burning skin turn cold.

"Dad..."

"Oh, no you don't," they mutter, standing between you and the nothing you reach for. "Sorry, my dear, but I get terribly jealous. I can't let just anyone inside your head."

N is inside you in an instant. For once, they don't wish to see. Instead, they concentrate hard on creating some kind of barrier to stop access. "Feel free to punish me later. I'll wait with anticipation."

Umbra: Umbra has spent far too long gazing into your eyes. They have every tiny variation of colour seered into their mind. The instant the colour of your eyes becomes muted, their already pallid skin grows paler.

"Dad..."

They turn towards where you reach for, and they realise you are grasping at nothing.

This isn't like them. This moment isn't like theirs. They had no body to lose; it was given. But it breaks their heart to think you might believe this is possible thanks to what they are.

With a tentative touch, Umbra reaches up to cup your cheek, hoping the cold of their touch might serve as a light raft to pull you to safety from wherever your mind lays adrift. "Feel the cold, MC. Feel what is real, and know what is not. I'm sorry, I know it is selfish, but I need you back with me."

[deancaspinefest]

Take The Long Way Home

Author: sidewinder | Artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)

Posting on Monday April 15

Two months ago, the world didn’t end. But for Dean Winchester, who fully expected to sacrifice not just his life but his very soul in order to stop Amara? The celebration has been clouded by the disappearance of his best friend, Cas—the friend he’d started to realize meant more to him than he’d been willing to accept until now. The last anyone’s seen of Castiel was when he was banished from the bunker by Toni Bevell. The Brits swear they don’t have him. Neither Heaven nor Hell claim to know of his whereabouts. All of Dean’s calls, texts and prayers to the angel have gone unanswered, and Dean can’t help but worry that a "Winchester win" has once again come at a terrible price. One day hope finally arrives in a lead from an unexpected if not always trustworthy ally. However finding Cas might end up being only the first step in saving him—not simply from the forces holding him captive, but from the prison of his own mind.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

As Dean approached the galley, he saw the light on there already, meaning he wasn’t the only early bird up and about today. His mood brightened with a momentary spark of hope—Cas rarely slept, and when he was around the bunker, he usually enjoyed hanging around in the kitchen to read or watch cat videos and shit all night on one of their laptops. But Dean’s bubble of hope burst when he saw it was just his brother, sitting there in his sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, chugging a disgusting-looking green smoothie. Sam was no doubt ready to head out on his morning self-imposed torture session—that is, a five-mile run looping around the bunker to Lebanon and back.

Kid seriously had to be the devil’s vessel if he found that kind of physical torment enjoyable.

“Hey,” Dean grunted at his brother.

Sam looked up from his laptop at Dean and nodded. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“You too. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Rarely do.”

Yeah, that was something they had in common. “Anything up?” Dean asked on his way to fill the coffeepot with water. 

“Not really. Just restless, I guess. I found a case, maybe. Not that I was looking for one,” Sam added quickly. “But while I was searching for any signs of Cas, or Lucifer, I came across a news story about some strange deaths in Wichita. It’s not far from here, and—”

“If you wanna go hunt whatever it is, go for it,” Dean cut him off. “Take mom. I know she’s itching to get out of here and do somethin’ other than stare at our ugly mugs all day.” 

“Dean—”

“No, Sam. I mean it. Until I know where Cas is, I just can’t. My head’s not in the game.” A distracted hunter was a dead hunter. That was the rule their father had drilled into them as soon as they each could carry a weapon, and learn about the things that went bump in the night being real. A week ago, Dean had let Sam talk him into going on a “milk run” hunt to clear out a small vampire nest near Toledo and he’d nearly lost his neck thanks to not fully concentrating on the job at hand.

“Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?” Dean snapped. “Cas has been missing for two months, Sam! We have no idea where he is, if he even—”

Dean cut himself off. He couldn’t say it. Not out loud.

If he even survived.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 15)

[mo0nfairy]

Jill with a virgin reader is making me salivate, honestly ANY Of them w a virgin reader. Ada literally can’t stop cooing and awwing at reader long enough to acc fuck them, Leons savour complex is going OFF. Carlos is crying, bcs he? Gets to be the first? And Jill asks if anyone is going to fix that, and doesn’t wait far an answer

omgggggg don't even get me started. i actually imagined y/n in unchained melody to be a virgin, since most of their adult life has been spent in umbrella's captivity. but, with most of my stories, i try to keep y/n's character as vague as i can without making them bland. so, ultimately, you all get to decide whether your reader insert is a virgin or not.

tell any of the four you are a virgin, however, and they will surely lose their minds. all in their own unique, intricate ways.

yes, leon's savior complex goes haywire, but full honesty.... he feels really guilty. of course, his delusional mind does its usual mental gymnastics. he reaches the conclusion that your virginity is because you spent these past several years saving yourself for him. and he, to put it bluntly, is a slut. sure, none of the bodies he brought to bed meant anything to him, nor did they really bring him any pleasure. but his body count is sky high, while yours hasn't lifted an inch from the ground. nonetheless, he finds comfort knowing you are the one he will lay with for the rest of his life, and vice versa.

ada, on the other hand, thinks societal standards and regulations surrounding the concept of virginity are complete bullshit. your whole disposition changes just bc of one pencil dick? yeah right..... that being said, when it is you looking up at her, all doe-eyed and shy with your confession, she can't deny the possessive, animalistic nature it stirs inside her. having complete responsibility of your pleasure and experience has her itching to sink her claws into you. more than she is willing to admit.

carlos differs from all the four as he is not the most sexual person ever. however, he has had his fair share of one night stands in the past. all that locker room talk from other soldiers turned him into a playboy, of sorts. all the names on his body count were really only there to give him an ego boost. now, with you and all your heavenly glory in his life, carlos is a changed man. virgin or not, he always treats you like your skin is made of fine china. in this scenario, however, he is horrified at the prospect of even pressing too hard on a muscle. you can have carlos as your first, of course, but be prepared to constantly soothe and assure him of your safety.

and last, but certainly not least, we have jill. oh, boy...... the words "i'm a virgin" may as well be a lethal weapon, because not a picosecond is wasted before she is tearing into you like some crazed animal. she is not soft or soothing like the others, no, she is rough and aggressive, and most importantly, cocky. constantly boasting about how you needed a real woman to fuck you right, how nobody else could make you feel the way she does, and just how fucking soul-crushing you look with her hands all over you. in the end, your confession will inevitably lead to you beneath her. and you'll be lucky if you can stand on your feet for the next few days.

my best advice, keep your sexual history a secret. whether you've brought hundreds to bed or zero, simply alluding to sex will have them all sweating and squirming with need. if you do confess, however....... i'll keep you in my prayers.....................

[nikkigameslore]

Stories From Miraland - Love Nikki: Ghost Gathering [Part 1/3]

Adora [Part 1/2] Ghost City [Part 1/2]

Note: I absolutely love this event, but it is one of Nikki's darker stories so please read with caution. If I miss a trigger please do not hesitate to let me know I don't want anyone to go in unaware. Also while I was looking for the story on this (I sadly don't own Underworld Lord) I did find someone had put the story together already, but I cant find the blog so they have deactivated, you can find the web archive here and the wiki interpretation of that post here. I'm not sure I need to add a third interpretation so I'll just focus on the suits themselves.

Warnings for this part: murder

This is an old hell event and is still available in Wish Gate this part will focus on Miss Bone

Bone & Blood Woke up from eternal sleep Revived from silent darkness The dusk shadow falls I wear my nightgown When fate withered In the bone cage A flower of evil blooms

Story: In the night when moonlight is dim, the alley was full of shadows and scary, pointed things. The boy wanted to hold her hand, but when he turned to reach for it, she happened to move aside, her white dress fluttering slightly. Blushing, he pulled back his hand and smiled awkwardly at her.

"We'd better hurry up, this alley is dangerous." "But why?" asked the girl, her voice as soft and sweet as sugar.

The boy knew he shouldn't tell her, as time was of the essence, but his love for her made him indulge in her curiosity. Lowering his voice, he answered. "There are ghosts that inhabit this alley. They lurk in the shadows where the moonlight cannot reach, and eat all passers-by." "Really?" she asked as she followed him. "Do you truly believe a ghost story?" The boy turned to her and, with a solemn look, only said, "I'm willing to fight off any ghosts that come our way."

Hearing this valiant oath, the girl couldn't help but giggle sweetly, her face obscured by her open parasol.

"Adora…why is your parasol open so late at night?" The girl realized this, and replied, "Oh, I must have forgotten to fold it." Her voice crooned like a nightingale's. She folded her lace umbrella and let the moon shine upon her body and dress, giving off an eerie luminescence. She's but a pale skeleton in a girl's dress. She reached out to touch the boy's face with her bony hand.

"You don't have to fight off any ghosts for little ol' me," the pleasant voice emanated from the rattling skeleton's jaw. "Just close your eyes and be nice as I devour you where you stand!"

The city is still rife with stories of people being devoured by ghosts. Adora's eyelids fluttered like a butterfly poised to take off.

The officers could only send more men to protect her, as suitors of all kinds approached her. Young men displayed their weapons and martial prowess before her, while wealthy businessmen offered her expensive gifts of rose bouquets and jewelry. Poets and other scholars penned long and beautiful poems in her name, day and night, waxing lyrical of her beauty and their affection for her.

"Don't be afraid. Even without weapons or armor, I will protect you with my body." A timid smile appeared on her face. "I trust you."

Adora didn't know how to refuse any of them, so they all believed themselves to be the closest to winning her heart. She was like a beautiful, dew-covered gardenia in bloom, one that needed tender and constant care. Everyone was so enamored by her beauty; they chased her like chasing the only ray of moonlight in the dark. Everyone has a girl of their dreams, she was that girl for them. Slender and delicate, but unbendingly strong-willed even in the face of unknown terrors.

Once, when a young man was escorting her home, he disappeared in an alley and was never seen again. All that was left of him to bury were his clothes, mysteriously left behind. As she laid some lilies upon his tomb, she clasped her hands in prayer.

"I will find the murderer," she silently promised him. A frail flower like her, looking into the darkness for the culprit; it was a heart-wrenching sight for any to behold. The exorcists came to her, one by one, assuring her of her safety so long as they were allowed to guard her.

A kind, young man brought her a stack of information; upon holding it up, a fragrant love letter addressed to Adora fell out of the stack. Unfurrowing her brow, she smiled shyly.

Late at night, Adora picked up a pen and drew a gardenia on the map she was given, marking the largest house in the city: the famous Yoo's Mansion.

The young lady of Yoo's Mansion was a well-known philanthropist. She ran a charitable institution to house orphans and the poor. Everyone praised her kindness, but no one knew what really happened to the large number of people living inside its walls.

"It's strange." Adora rotated her parasol in her hands as she sang a song on her way home, leaving the boy who brought her information behind in the shadows. The fresh, living blood flowing through her veins was full of love, putting her in a pleasant mood she hadn't felt before. She may just meet her soon…the real lord of this city

….

One who is not living nor dead, one who doesn't age nor die. A master of all the underworld creatures… Miss Stich, lady of Yoo's Mansion.

The full moon in the sky moves slowly, gradually changing the angle of the moonlight. Her parasol could not completely shield her from the light, and half of her face was exposed to the moon. It revealed the original, skeletal form just beneath her fresh, youthful skin.

Adora had suddenly decided to make friends with Lady Stich. She found a shabby ragdoll on the street and set herself to mending it. Sewing the bones, injecting it with blood, and sealing its soul… After the final stitch, the doll's mouth moved and began to sing a soundless tune.

Adora kissed the doll on its delicate cheek and carefully wrapped it up. I pray that this gift allows us to meet in a dream-like wonderland. For this is the only way I know to end your being.

Item Description Story: The daytime set description tells the story of Adora, a girl who is beautiful and delicate. She does not know love and only wants to gain immortality so she can remain beautiful. She has many suitors but doesn't care for any of them. In the light she turns to her true form of bone so she only meets them carrying an umbrella. One day one of her suitors dies while walking her home, and Adora puts on a performance swearing to find the one who killed him. People search every corner and bring her information and clues and she thanks them all. After hearing about Miss Stich, she disappears on a rainy day and nobody remembers her, as if she had never existed.

The night version tells the story of how she remains young and beautiful by bathing in the blood of her lovers. The moonlight reveals her true form of bone, and she fears death. Upon hearing the story of the Underworld Lord, someone who has endless power and immortality, she decides to seek her out and kill her to gain the immortality for herself. She sees Lady Stich's past in a dream and how the people around her exploit her but banish her when it becomes too much for the frail girl to bear. She uses a mended doll with a finger bone in its belly to befriend the girl and kills her. The plan works and Lady Stich's power and immortality belong to Adora, but Adora feels despair since she will never meet Stich again. She cries for the first time and visits her grave in the rain, telling Stich she is free from the nightmare.

[softdedue]

I remember as a boy asking my father about the conflict in Israel and my father—who is a world expert on international relations, who has literally written the textbook on these sorts of genocides, who never shies away from a discussion—told me: we don’t talk about that. It’s complicated. Being a child, I listened.

I went away to college, to a good Jewish school, trying to reconnect to my roots. I asked my Rabbi: what is so complicated about the conflict in Israel? And he said, we don’t talk about that, it is too complicated. Not being a scholar of such things, I listened.

I asked my friend, a political sciences major who was studying to one day become a rabbi themself: why is it that no one will speak about Israel? And they said, it is complicated. You are German; would you like it if everyone who walked up to you asked you your opinion on Hitler? And I thought, that is no answer at all.

And then I moved to Tigard, and I met Muna, who would become a mother to me in many ways. “Habibi,” she would say. “Can you come download this new app for me? My daughter wants to play some new game.” And we went from working together to caring for each other, and I met her family—few enough of them blood, but built together out of the shared experience of coming here to this hostile country that did not like their scarves and their prayer and their accents. My Arabic is poor, and heavily accented, but the fact that I knew any at all—and wanted to learn more from her, and was willing to listen—was enough to get her to welcome me in, and we had known each other for less than a year when she began to tell me stories of home.

My Muna was born in Jerusalem, and she immigrated here when her daughter was only five years old, trying to escape the constant bombs. Every single day of the Israeli occupation she was afraid for her life, and her family’s lives, and they were the lucky ones: they got out, and they came here, and she and her husband had been able to find work and support their family in spite of all the prejudice they faced. Many of their loved ones were not so lucky. She couldn’t tell me how many people she knew who had died, and that was before the current conflict.

I knew then that it had never truly been “complicated”. The plight of my people is complicated, yes, and it always has been, but that has never—and will never—give any of us the right to displace other innocent people from their homes in the name of claiming some sort of god-ordained holy land. “God said we could have it” has never been a rightful claim for anyone. Jewish people across the world have been blinded and misled by Israeli propaganda, as have others of all religions, but it truly is just that: propaganda.

I stand with justice. I stand with freedom. I stand with Palestine.

[thyln4gf]

Masterpiece

✞ You were well aware of his feelings towards you and your body, and he thought that he was aware too... But was he really?

✞ Word count - 1,2k

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that i associate with this fic - "masterpiece" - MIW, "cheers to goodbye" - Escape The Fate, "saviour II" - BVB, "the apparition" - Sleep Token, "killing me slowly" - Bad Wolves.

✞ Warnings - suggestions towards smut, mentions of alcohol consumption.

✞ Carlos Sainz jr. x reader

✞ Note 1 - my requests are open, and waiting to be used. Wink wink. Note 2 - this was done by request. I hope you enjoy<3

Carlos had always sworn that you were his deity of some sorts, this pretty gorgeous thing. And you presented him with the exact same... enthusiasm. Or, well, you tried. Hed always get ahead of you in the terms of charisma one could radiate, all while you were accusing him of cheating in this little game you two had established. Not really his fault though, isnt it? Just like he liked to tell you, anyone worthy of your presence could become the god of confidence - after all, he doesnt really think that anyone could pass on the opportunity of having you. He knew that he didnt.

Your relationship probably wasnt for everyone to understand (not like he wanted them to) - most viewed it as this weird back and forth of rather thirsty sarcasm, and it always reminded everyone of the fact that you both had a little too much confidence. And they have never seen what happens in private, either. It would blow their existences as whole away.

Speaking of which. You could feel what was coming exactly - you were both on your way home from dinner, or more like, he was driving you home. You were tipsy, and he was currently trying to multitask - he wishes that he could just give into you trying to charm your way into his pants already, but he wasnt exactly a passenger, like you were. So imagine - having to keep pushing you away, while also being very eager for something that you were trying to achieve. And, driving. How could he forget that.

By the time he had managed to get you into the apartment, you were all over him. A kiss here, a bite there. A gentle tug over there. He had an idea of what you were trying to do - but in reality, he had no idea of what was coming. And he would be lying if he said that the idea didnt excite him more than anything else in his life.

Carlos thought that youd be willing to speed the whole process up, judging by how desperate you seemed to be in the car. But you... You were taking your sweet time, murmuring the sweet words of praise into his ear. And it felt like a whole new world to him. He had always had half a mind of asking you to take the reins into your hands, but he couldnt. Not when he could see just how much you were enjoying his attention in that specific way.

But here you were, taking charge, like it was something that you were used to. Like it was something that youve done numerous times at this point - it all felt so natural, for both of you. Your fingertips slid across his cheeks, his jawline, his (now exposed) collarbones. They eventually grasped the collar of his shirt with such gentle intensity that he could almost feel himself falling straight onto his knees. But, this did not end here. You were proceeding with unbuttoning his shirt, one button after another. Doing it so ever so slowly. You traced the path of your fingers with the gentle kisses and carried on with the praise - the words almost felt like a prayer to him. Carlos could barely stand straight due to how dizzy he had become in such a short time, grabbing onto your waist to somewhat steady himself. You felt it too - and he figured it out the moment he got pushed into a wall. Holy... Shit...

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he got shut off by the lips that he had grown to love the most - yours. Your kisses always tasted so sweet, and he found himself wondering the same thing each and every time. Am i ever going to get tired of this? Probably not.

Before you both knew it, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his clothes making a trail to the shared bedroom. You have barely let him touch you, leave alone undress you in any way - besides letting him watch as you slowly peeled your shirt off a bit earlier. His whining can get... persuasive, per se.

While your hands rubbed along his thighs, your lips werent resting either - they were making their way towards the spot that showed his enthusiasm the most. He could feel just how much you appreciated him, and the feeling only got amplified with each and every kiss of yours. Once you finally bit into his thigh, he let out something that reminded you of a moan - if it was let go through ones throat in the form of a hiss. Not exactly used to you interacting with him like that, he was getting quite overwhelmed already.

You were teasing him - your tongue running across the thing, up to the tip, and then straight down again. You were savouring the feel of him, while trying to show him just how amazing he is. Usually, you wouldnt even think about it - his confidence would shy you away from any thoughts of the kind. But the alcohol has been buzzing in your brain for a few now, giving you the extra boost, that extra push you seemed to need. You had always joked that you need a few shots for confidence before getting intimate with him, but never acted upon the words due to them being, well, a mere joke. They seemed to be the truth, though.

And now you both couldnt really be happier.

If he wasnt so overwhelmed already, he surely would have let out a gasp or two - from his point of view, you looked stunning. Your face was prickled with a few tears. Those wet lips that pulled away from him just for long enough to whisper a few words his way. 'Youre so beautiful, baby' - these would probably be his favourite ones so far - and, weirdly enough, just like the ones that he liked to remind you of all the time. He could be mistaken, but it looked like you were trying to return the favour - and he wasnt complaining. After all... as long as he had the pleasure of having you in the sheets, he was yours to do as you please.

The teasing part wasnt over, though. Just as he was starting to inch closer to achieving the high, you pull away. A whine leaves his lips - but, once again, it gets silenced pretty quickly - the sight of you hovering over him manifests faster than his present consciousness can keep up, as you had just pushed him backwards, onto the bed. God. He could survive off of the sight of you alone, it kept him going. It kept him alive. You take his chin with your two fingers, steadying his face. He had never, ever seen you so beautiful. The feeling was mutual for you as well - he was starting to look more and more like a masterpiece, a canvas that you had painted with your own eyes, lips, and fingertips. Something that you wouldnt mind staring at for the rest of your eternity. You cant resist from making a comment about how purple fits him just as much as the colour red - and he cant resist the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. After all, you were his deity.

But now, it was his time to be worshipped and appreciated.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Oh look more headcanons

Who'd have guessed

Not me for sure

Okay sorry I'll shut up.

I'm highly music-driven and have been for many many years of my life.

And I'm presently unreasonably obsessed with The Fratellis after suddenly remembering they exist after like fifteen years of not hearing a single one of their songs. Don't ask me, it just happened a couple months ago and I decided not to question it.

So this is really stupidly niche of me, but these are their songs/lyrics that I associate with the Best Boys™, in a Character X Reader sense. The songs that are typically playing halfway on repeat when I'm writing any of them lately.

The song-links go to Spotify. It's not necessary to listen to them, the lyrics here are the main catalyst, but if you want to listen I'm not going to complain.

no but please I hope you like the music that I like I have no one to talk to about it and as a half-assed musician it's literally killing me and

Anywho.

Zoro

Living in the Dark

I was nothing less than torn, crying out to be reborn

Come back, baby, you could make me happy,

Maybe you could prove me wrong

You're the only one who could ever save me,

Maybe you could prove me wrong

I've been living in the dark down here too long

The song itself is far more upbeat than I'd generally associate with Zoro, but the lyrics speak to me on his behalf. The upbeat tempo is the equivalent of what you do to his heart when you're near him; it's strange and unfamiliar, but it's nice. He's iffy about being close with anyone, and he won't admit it out loud but he wants to be.

He's been alone for years, for damned near all of his life, and you're like the light at the end of that tunnel. He might try to push you away or be aloof and impersonal at first because the thought of being vulnerable frightens him a little, but he wants to be proven wrong. He wants to let you in, and he's willing to try.

Sanji

Sugartown

I get the strangest sense we were lovers past-tense

Like a dog in heat I just can't be indiscreet

And when I see you there, I whisper my prayer, so sweet

I'm getting shakey on my feet, I'm incomplete

And if you just can't do me right

Then, honey, please, do me wrong

I'll be your one man band, I'll be at your command

Just say the word and I'll be your Renaissance man

This entire damned song is the anthem of Sanji. It's like a 1950's bop, the type of song that you can't help but smile at. It's sweet and cute and pining, just like our favorite chef. He's just utterly obsessed and hoplessly devoted to you and every single thing you do. He can't keep his eyes or his mind off of you at any given time.

Just the sight of you entering the room takes his breath away, puts stars in his eyes. He would do or give absolutely anything to have you and to keep you forever, and he's going to make sure you know it.

Shanks

Babydoll

Babydoll, do you believe they'll catch you when you fall?

And when morning comes, the sun is gonna shine

Don't forget, your minor keys your half-lit cigarette

'Cause when morning comes, I know that you'll be mine

So let me in

I'm ready to beg and to sing for my sins

Not leave it to chance and sweet coincidence

I don't know. The soft yet slightly playful tone of the song in general just screams Shanks to me for no reason I can completely put in words. This particular portion of the lyrics is what I associate most with him.

He knows he wants you, and he wants to make sure you know it. Not to beat around the bush about it, but not pressure you either. Just make sure you know how much he cares about you and be as gentle and sweet as possible to prove it...and he knows it's going to work, and that you're already his whether you know it or not. But jfc also imagine that goddamned voice of his calling you babydoll please excuse me I need to go touch grass now

Mihawk

Medusa In Chains

I'm not your miracle man, I'm not your spirit guide

Before this whole thing began I had some sense of pride

Just one more night with your lips, your company is hard to eclipse

Weak-kneed, yes indeed, guardanteed, make my heart bleed

Give me a reason to breathe, don't let my sun go down

I'll make you stand and recieve, I'll be your sacred ground

Be my Medusa in chains, petrified

Only your beauty remains

The entire song. The ENTIRE SONG screams Mihawk to me. Slow-burn and seductive from start to finish. I get the same exact chills from this song that I get when he delivers that "Magnificent" line.

Lyrically relevant too. Falling for you in spite of his pride (and he has a LOT of pride to get past). You're like nothing he has ever experienced and he's utterly and hopelessly addicted to you. As much as he wants to fight it, he can't. In the same breath that he's trying to push you away and retain some grip on himself he's also pulling you back for more. He hardly even knows who he is anymore when you're near.