#i fear this may take on a life of it's own...

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their main fear in the relationship with you🤍

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

A/N: Soon I will try to deal with your orders! Also soon I will write headcanons about the alphabet with characters!

🤍🤍🤍

Cho Hyun Ju

The girl is very afraid that you will leave her for another, because she is not good enough for you. She tried to be feminine: she made beautiful hairstyles, cute makeup, dressed up in good and classic clothes, sometimes even allowed herself skirts and dresses, used good perfumes. But despite this, she still felt like a man, because she didn't make a full transition. She still had a male voice, an Adam's apple, light stubble on her face, but most importantly, she still had a dick. She wanted to finish everything faster, but there not enough money and Ju had to put up with it.

You always told her that she is the most beautiful girl in the world and you don't care that she hasn't changed into a girl yet, she believes you, she cries hearing these words. But she is still afraid that the worst thing may happen to her and you will constantly prove the opposite.

Kang Dae Ho

The guy told you that after the service he developed PTSD. You accepted it and said that everything was fine, that he was a great guy, that he continued to be strong and brave.

But the guy has a new fear. He fears that he won't be able to protect you because of his disorder.

Dae Ho is afraid that someday you will get bored that he sometimes behaves like a cowardly child and leave him.

He knows that you are not like that, he knows that you love him very much, but there is fear and he tries to fight it.

Kang Sae Byeok

You are a very nice and romantic person. You have always shown a lot of attention and love for your girlfriend, shower her with compliments, give gifts and much more.

Sae Byeok is very pleased, she likes that you are trying for her.

But she has a problem. A girl doesn't know how to give attention and love like you. She's used to being cold-blooded and distant, Sae doesn't even treat her brother too kindly.

She's ashamed of it. She is afraid that you will get tired of her cold and go to the one who can give you all the love and attention.

Sae Byeok tries, she tries very hard and you see it, what she does is very valuable to you.

Someday the girl will be able to cope with her cold to the end.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You and your boyfriend have been dating for about three years. You survived both ups and downs, but you always stayed close to each other.

You tried to help the guy cope with his addiction.

He tried to quit permanently, but constantly returned to the state when he could not recognize anyone but you (yes, even in a terrible state, he can recognize you).

Sometimes you have your hands dropped and you quarrel with a guy, saying that you will leave him, because you want a normal life, you want a wedding and children in the future, but you can't, because it's very difficult to build it with such a person.

Su Bong understands this, he is very ashamed, he promises to leave, but always breaks these promises.

He's afraid that you'll fulfill your threat and leave him, he even cries because of all this when he's left alone.

Nam Gyu

The biggest fear is betrayal. He was betrayed, humiliated and insulted many times. He was considered a litter because he was friends with influential people, especially because of his friendship with Thanos.

He doesn't want you to be the same, he doesn't want to know that you use him and his trust for your own benefit.

He is also afraid that Thanos will take you away, because according to Gyu he is much better.

But you always prove the opposite, you say that you don't need anyone but Gyu, that you love only him and he is the best person in your life.

He believes you, but he still has fear.

🤍🤍🤍

[solxamber]

Requests open? By Sol? No way I will let the chance pass when you open your inbox, thank you before I see it as I know I will enjoy it! ♡

[Rook, Romantic, "Love story" by Indila]

"Love Story" || Rook Hunt

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Love story by Indila

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 570

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pining

Rook Hunt has never known hesitation before.

He has chased, he has admired, he has loved in all forms—art, beauty, fleeting moments of divinity caught in a smile or a passing glance. But you… oh, you. You have undone him.

For the first time in his life, Rook is unable to act on his feelings. He pines, he yearns, he longs. He sees you everywhere. In the way the wind stirs the leaves, in the curve of the river bending like a sigh, in the moonlight casting its soft glow over the world—everything reminds him of you. His heart is a bowstring drawn too tight, aching under the weight of his devotion.

Sometimes, he speaks to the moon as if it were you. He whispers confessions into the night, poetic declarations that will never reach your ears.

"Ah, ma merveille! If only you knew the way my heart beats only for you."

Even Vil, the ever-graceful, ever-composed, is beginning to look concerned. “Rook, if you pine any harder, you may simply evaporate.” But what is he to do? His love is too vast to be contained, too consuming to be expressed by anything as simple as words.

And so, he does what he can. Every time he sees you, he greets you with a rose, plucked with great care from the most beautiful bushes in the garden. And every time, you smile and take it, twirling it between your fingers with a quiet “Thank you, Rook.”

Rook wants this to be your love story.

He wants to offer you his life, his last breath, his every waking moment—if it means that you’ll hold him gently, whisper sweet things against his skin, kiss him like he is the most precious thing in existence. He would do anything for this love. Anything.

And yet, he does nothing.

Not because he is afraid. No, Rook Hunt does not fear rejection. But he fears a love left uncherished, a love unreciprocated. He fears that if he dares to voice his devotion, he may startle you away like a butterfly from an outstretched hand.

So he waits. And he aches.

One evening, he finds himself by the lake, staring at the reflection of the moon on the water. It is another night spent lost in thoughts of you, another night speaking to the sky, yearning for a love he cannot claim.

But then—then—he feels a presence beside him. A warmth pressing against his side. A gentle hand slipping into his own.

His breath catches. His heart stutters.

It’s you.

You sit beside him in silence, your fingers entwined with his, your head resting against his shoulder. No words are needed. The gesture alone is enough to unravel him, to make him tremble with the sheer weight of emotion swelling in his chest.

A single tear escapes, trailing down his cheek.

And then, before he can speak, before he can ask if this is real—your hand lifts, fingers brushing against his skin, wiping the tear away.

And then you kiss him.

Soft, reverent, like the promise of a thousand whispered sonnets.

Rook Hunt has loved a great many things in his lifetime, but nothing—nothing—will ever compare to this.

And as he pulls you closer, as his arms encircle you with all the tenderness he has kept bottled inside for so long, he knows.

This is the best love story.

A love for the ages.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[canine-witch]

Are You In Alignment With Your Dreams?

We all have dreams, goals, and aspirations in life, things which propell us forward and get us up in the mornings. But, sometimes life can happen or other people or circumstances can get in the way of what you want. I intend to let my collective know if they are in alignment with what they desire, or have they fallen off their paths?

Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to discard what does not resonate with you.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊

Group One ~ The Cat

There are things you are avoiding, that you need to address soon, seeker. There may be doubt about your ability, or a lack of healing from past wounds. You have been scarred in the past, more than likely about your dreams and your destiny. Don't fear what other people are saying, or might say about you seeker. Trust in your ability, your path, and your guides. Heal, and know that you are divinely protected.

Group Two ~ The Wine

Your dreams are coming true, but you need to learn how to manage your time and energy. You may have been putting a lot of effort into places or people that either do not need it or you worry about too much. Reclaim your energy, delegate tasks, and follow your own boundaries. Let someone else handle the smaller details, and release burdens where it is needed. You are on the right path, there is no need to control everything.

Group Three ~ The Hands

You need to reach out more to your community, seeker. You may have been judged for your dreams in the past by another community, and it made you hoard your talents and gifts, hiding them from people who should have nurtured you. But, now you are older and wiser, and have more independence and a whole community waiting for you. Speak your mind, share your interests, and don't be scared to reach out for mentorship. There are people who want to help your dreams come true, you just need to put yourself out there, seeker.

Group Four ~ The Rose

You need to work on your dreams in secret, seeker. There may be some energies in your life which do not have your best intentions in mind. When you move, do so quietly. Maybe now is the time to avoid posting on social media. Take ritual baths to wash away the negative energy, and care for yourself. Rest and relax in the moments of solitude you may have been avoiding for productivity or keeping up an image. It's time to move in silence, work hard, and claim your blessings away from the public eye.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊

Thank you so much for trusting me with your energy and your question, I pray this reading brought you clarity and comfort.

I am accepting free reading requests from now until February 3, and I will be dropping a Kofi shop after this event for a variety of services! Keep your eyes peeled for my announcement, if this is something that calls to you.

May you be blessed, stay safe seeker!

[mylovesstuffs]

Ot13 and what scares them about love

Request: Hey can u do a headcanon ot13: what scares them about being in love.. or love in general? (Like not being enough, losing control, potential heartbreak… smth like that) thanks a lot:)))

A/N: I added the little bullet notes under each member’s part just in case any of you have similar fears—so that you can be reassured that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Personally, I struggle with the fear of being hard to love. It’s something deeply ingrained in me, though I won’t elaborate further. I just wanted you all to feel a little better. At the end of the day, these notes aren’t really for the members (as if they'll see this lol)—they’re for you. This headcanon (sorta) felt surprisingly personal, and writing it made me reflect on so many things about life and love in general. To the anon who requested this, thank you. Your idea was truly unique, and it gave me a space to pause, think, and see things from a different perspective of svt and others.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol – The Fear of Failing as a Partner

How I see him is that, he carries a deep sense of responsibility, and that extends to love too. His biggest fear is not being able to protect or take care of his partner the way he wants to. He worries about not being emotionally available or strong enough when they need him most. The idea of letting someone down, especially someone he loves, weighs heavily on him.

Seungcheol, you’re doing your absolute best, and that’s more than enough. Your love is a safe space, and no one could ever doubt the strength you bring to those around you.

Jeonghan – The Fear of Losing Himself

Love is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. Jeonghan fears that being in love might make him lose parts of himself—his independence, his ability to make rational choices, or even his sense of control. He’s afraid of how much power someone else could have over his emotions, especially since he’s always the one in control of his own heart.

Love doesn’t mean losing yourself. The right person will embrace all of you, allowing you to be both independent and deeply connected. You don’t have to choose between the two.

Joshua – The Fear of Unreciprocated Effort

I feel like he’s the type to love deeply, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally. But what scares him is the possibility of loving someone more than they love him. He fears investing everything into a relationship, only to find out that his feelings are not returned in the same way. He doesn’t want to be left wondering if he was ever truly enough.

Shua, you are more than enough. Any love you give will be returned in full measure. You’re so kind and caring, and someone who sees you for who you are will love you deeply in return.

Jun – The Fear of Being Misunderstood

Jun is a deep thinker, and his emotions often run slowly beneath the surface. He worries that no matter how much he loves someone, they might never truly understand him. He’s scared of feeling alone in a relationship, of opening up completely and still not being seen for who he truly is.

The right person will understand you in ways you never imagined. Your depth is so precious, and there are people who will cherish every part of who you are.

Hoshi – The Fear of Love Fading

Love, to him, should always be full of passion and excitement. But he fears that over time, feelings might dull, routines might set in, and the relationship could become something ordinary. He wants love to always feel exhilarating, and the thought of it losing its spark terrifies him.

The most beautiful love grows even stronger with time, and the quiet moments are just as powerful as the loud ones.

Wonwoo – The Fear of Not Being Enough

Wonwoo is reserved, and deeply introspective. He worries that he won’t be able to express love in the way his partner needs. He’s afraid that his way of loving through actions rather than words, might not be enough. The idea of someone wanting more than he can give haunts him.

Wonwoo, your love is already enough. The way you care, through your actions and your presence, speaks volumes. Anyone who truly understands you will appreciate the depth of your heart.

Woozi – The Fear of Losing His Dreams for Love

As we all know, he’s very dedicated to his craft and his passion for music runs deep. While he’s capable of deep love, he fears that being in love might take away the time and energy he’s poured into his dreams. He doesn’t want to choose between love and ambition, but he’s afraid that, in the end, one might have to come before the other.

The right person will support and inspire you to keep chasing your passions while loving you in the most meaningful way.

Dokyeom – The Fear of Hurting or Disappointing Someone

Seokmin has such a big heart, and his worst fear is accidentally hurting someone he loves. He always wants to be a source of happiness, but relationships aren’t always perfect, and the thought of being the reason for someone’s pain is unbearable to him.

Kyeom, your heart is pure, and your love only brings joy to those around you. Anyone who is with you will feel lucky to have such a loving and kind soul in their life.

Mingyu – The Fear of Being Too Much

He loves intensely, and sometimes, that can feel overwhelming. Mingyu worries that his enthusiasm, his affection, and his deep emotions might be too much for someone to handle. He’s scared of loving someone with all his heart, only to be told that it’s suffocating.

Gyu :(( your love is perfect just the way it is. No one will ever think you’re too much. You are a warm, bright presence, and the right person will embrace all of that with open arms.

Minghao – The Fear of Losing Freedom

Love is beautiful (2), but Minghao values his independence. He worries about feeling trapped or restricted in a relationship, about losing the ability to chase his own passions freely. He wants to love without feeling like he has to compromise parts of himself.

The right person will love and respect your freedom while still sharing in your journey together.

Seungkwan – The Fear of Heartbreak

He loves hard, and he knows that means he has the most to lose. The thought of giving his whole heart to someone only to have it broken is terrifying. He’s scared of the kind of pain that lingers, the kind that changes a person forever.

Kwannie, your heart is strong enough to handle anything. Love will come with its ups and downs, but your ability to heal and grow will make you even stronger, and you will find a love that never breaks you.

Vernon – The Fear of Not Being Able to Express Himself

Vernon thinks deeply but doesn’t always voice everything he feels. He fears that his inability to always put his emotions into words might make his partner feel unappreciated or uncertain about his love. He doesn’t want to lose someone just because he couldn’t say the right things at the right time.

Anyone who truly cares for you will understand the depth of your feelings, even in silence. You don’t need to explain everything—you show it.

Dino – The Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously

As the youngest in svt, he’s used to being seen as playful and energetic and his partner will also know this persona just like we do. But in love, he wants to be seen as a dependable partner. He fears that no matter how much he matures, there will always be a part of him that people don’t take seriously. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘kid’ in love—he wants to be seen as someone who can love deeply and be a strong, steady presence in his partner’s life.

Dino, your maturity is not measured by age but by the love you give. Anyone who loves you will see the depth of your heart and appreciate the amazing, steady partner you are.

[manuellarts]

i have FINALLY found a picture to illustrate what i mean when i say that deidara's design is a direct contrast to what he really is

this picture of misa had always creeped me out and i always found it off-putting because of how dead and empty her eyes are despite the smile on her face, and although she looks sweet in appearance, that's not all there is to her

and the very same thing can be said about deidara: although his looks may point at a regular guy and even hold a certain innocence, his eyes tell a whole different story

i was always mesmerized by the contrasts and paradoxes of his being . . one only needs to take a good look at what he calls "art" to really get a glimpse of how twisted his mind is

yes, he is very expressive and his emotions very explosive . . but there is still a massive emptiness behind it all

an emptiness that is constantly and continuously filled by strong emotions, danger, thrill etc . . which he also wants to be mirrored by the people around him, especially as they witness his art

he seeks strong emotions to his art, awe, fear, terror . . all which reinforces his own vision of things, and that i suppose is the reason why the indifference and complete lack of reaction from sasuke and itachi get to him so badly

indifference to his art is what's off-putting and deeply disturbing to him, it makes me think of how, even at the cost of his own life, what he sought to do was to cause fear and awe in sasuke—he did not care to figure a more strategic plan any longer, nor to save his life.. he wanted his art to triumph

his entire personality is defined by him being an artist, his art which he calls "true art" consisting of absolute brutality .. not only is his art fearsome, but he as a person, is actually terrifying

and he was only 19 . . i wonder how worse it would've gotten if he had lived any longer . .

[00valentina-writes00]

So I got asked this- but the ask got lost so…

✞⛧Ambessa with a gothic girlfriend✞⛧

✞⛧ The first thing Ambessa notices about you is your striking appearance—dark clothing, intricate jewelry, and an aura that demands attention in a way different from her own. She’s intrigued.

✞⛧ She finds your style both alluring and impressive. The dramatic black lace, corsets, layered skirts, or sharp, tailored outfits—whatever your gothic aesthetic may be—suit you perfectly in her eyes.

✞⛧ Ambessa loves to see you in deep shades of red or rich velvet fabrics; they remind her of the regal styles of old Noxus.

✞⛧ She doesn’t shy away from spoiling you with gifts—silver rings with intricate filigree, antique lockets, or high-quality, custom-tailored coats. She has impeccable taste, and it shows.

✞⛧ Your fascination with the macabre amuses her. Over dinner, you mention death being a natural part of life, and Ambessa smirks, raising a brow. “Finally, someone who understands.”

✞⛧ She’s completely unfazed by your darker interests. You could be reading poetry about mortality, visiting old crypts for their beauty, or talking about gothic literature—Ambessa listens with genuine curiosity.

✞⛧ If you wear dark, dramatic makeup, she admires the precision of it. She may not understand the effort that goes into perfecting your look, but she knows it takes skill and discipline—both things she respects.

✞⛧ She calls you “my raven” in private, a nickname that starts as teasing but grows into something affectionate.

✞⛧ While Ambessa isn’t one for extravagant accessories, she sometimes wears something subtle that reminds her of you—maybe a ring you gifted her or a dark silk scarf.

✞⛧ You introduce her to your favorite gothic literature—Poe, Shelley, Stoker. She reads them in her spare time, and though she scoffs at some of the melodrama, she admits the writing is compelling.

✞⛧ She respects that your view of the world isn’t naive. You see beauty in the dark, in the eerie, in the things that most people fear. It aligns well with her own understanding of life’s brutal nature.

✞⛧ If you have a love for historical fashion, she’ll absolutely have custom pieces made for you—corsets with detailed embroidery, long flowing coats, and heeled boots made of the finest leather.

✞⛧ She enjoys watching you prepare for the day. The care with which you lace up your boots, fasten your jewelry, or adjust your gloves—it’s ritualistic, and she appreciates discipline in any form.

✞⛧ Ambessa is a woman of practicality, but she will absolutely indulge you if you have an eye for the dramatic. You want a candlelit dinner in a gothic-style hall? She’ll make it happen.

✞⛧ She has a deep, commanding voice, and when she reads aloud from your favorite gothic novels, it sends shivers down your spine. She knows it, too.

✞⛧ If you have a love for classical music, particularly the more haunting, melancholic pieces, Ambessa will humor you by attending performances—though she much prefers the kind of music that stirs a battlefield.

✞⛧ You once mentioned an interest in ancient cathedrals and gothic architecture, and now every time she travels, she makes note of places you might appreciate. She’ll even take you with her when possible.

✞⛧ While she’s not one for poetry herself, she secretly enjoys hearing you read aloud, especially if your voice takes on a soft, wistful tone.

✞⛧ Ambessa finds the contrast between you and her amusing—her imposing, war-hardened presence and your hauntingly elegant demeanor. She likes that you stand out just as much as she does, in your own way.

✞⛧ If anyone dares make snide remarks about your appearance or interests, Ambessa’s gaze alone is enough to silence them. If that doesn’t work, she’ll handle it in a way that ensures they never do it again.

✞⛧ She enjoys taking you to grand, historic locations—opulent halls, towering castles, places rich with history and power. It aligns with both her aesthetic and yours.

✞⛧ If you collect antiques or oddities, she helps expand your collection. A dagger with an engraved handle? An old, ornate mirror with a dark history? She’ll find it for you.

✞⛧ She respects your intelligence and depth. You don’t just embrace darkness for the sake of it—you understand it, analyze it, and find meaning where others fear to look.

✞⛧ Ambessa appreciates that you don’t shy away from discussing mortality, war, or the harsher realities of life. You’re not delicate in the way many expect, and she loves that about you.

✞⛧ If you ever express insecurities about being “too much” or “too different,” she shuts it down immediately. “You are striking. Unforgettable. The rest are simply dull in comparison.”

✞⛧ She’s the type to say things like, “Let them stare. They should be grateful to witness something of worth.”

✞⛧ If you’re the poetic type, you might write about her—her strength, her presence, her legacy. The first time she realizes you’ve done this, she’s uncharacteristically quiet, touched in a way she doesn’t immediately voice.

✞⛧ If you enjoy stormy nights and candlelit conversations, Ambessa will indulge you. She’s lived through countless battles—what’s one more night spent entertaining your romanticism?

✞⛧ She’s drawn to your confidence but also recognizes when you need reassurance. She may not be the most traditionally affectionate partner, but her loyalty and devotion are unwavering.

✞⛧ If you have a dry, morbid sense of humor, she enjoys it more than she lets on. The two of you sometimes exchange comments that leave others unsettled, but between you, it’s a form of connection

✞⛧ Ambessa enjoys that you don’t demand softness from her. You respect her nature as much as she respects yours, and the balance between you is something rare and deeply satisfying.

✞⛧ At the end of the day, Ambessa isn’t concerned with how you present yourself—what matters is your strength, your mind, and the way you challenge her in ways few others ever could.

[causticsodaa]

Umemiya and his self-blaming tendencies

It’s a subtle thing, but details like this are what I absolutely love about Wind Breaker.

From the get-go, we see that Umemiya struggled immensely with his [suppressed] grief as well as self-esteem as a child. After the accident with his parents, he internalizes the fact that he is a murderer and he [indirectly] killed his parents and unborn sibling—all because they had saved him. Ergo, Ume blames himself for being selfish and doesn’t even allow himself to grieve for his parents.

He externalized his self hatred when he was younger: not eating properly, pushing people away, declaring himself a murderer, and even trying to kill himself by provoking some thugs to beat him to death (before his savior stepped in).

He repeats the phrase “It’s my fault” over and over again, before ending with a “because I was selfish”. Ume genuinely, wholeheartedly believed that he was responsible for letting the ones he loved die instead of the literal truck that killed them—all because he wanted to look at some toys like any normal, curious child—and that he is the one who needed to repent for the atrocity.

I’m going to put this in perspective: do you understand how messed up it is for someone at his age (or at any age, really—though with how young he was, it’s seriously heartbreaking) to be this suicidal? Coupled with the immense grief of losing his parents and sibling at 9 years old, it’s no wonder Ume was at his wits end.

But his savior, being the strange instigator he is, decides to tell this to kid Ume:

This is obviously a terrible thing to say, especially to a child who’s suicidal, but it’s the final push that Umemiya needs to properly go through with it.

When he attempts to take his life, he once again convinces himself that he doesn’t deserve to live, and that he needs to pay for what he had done.

However, despite the suicidal bravado he displayed earlier, Ume feels scared. Subconsciously, he doesn’t want to truly die (though he hasn’t realized this yet), given that his hand shakes with fear. It’s the onset of his self-doubt; but Ume decides to suppress these feelings once more, believing that he doesn’t deserve to even feel scared. Instead, he deserves to die and be punished for his wrongdoings.

He apologizes to his family one last time, but he suddenly remembers his parents (who were drawn with no facial features in Ume’s memories) faces.

They were smiling.

Ume realizes this too late, and regrets the first step he takes off the ledge.

Thankfully, his savior was there to well—save him in the nick of time.

This action may seem counterintuitive given his words to Umemiya prior, but I speculate that he followed him to the building and waited to actually stop Ume. In actuality, he makes Ume realize himself that he doesn’t deserve to die and lets him teeter at the edge of death to really hammer it in.

This is proven by the pep-talk he gives kid Ume after rescuing him:

After hearing his savior’s words, the last thing Ume thinks of are his parents before he passes out. He’s letting himself realize that it wasn’t his fault, since his parents were smiling to the very end. Maybe his parents didn’t hate Umemiya for letting them get killed, after all.

And Shitara tells Ume this quite bluntly, too. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words, and tells it as it is; Umemiya’s parents have always loved him.

These words, alongside the events with his savior, makes Umemiya realize that it wasn’t his fault in the end.

But Ume still doubts himself. So he asks Shitara one last thing.

And Yuki Shitara replies with a simple:

And it’s the last push that makes Ume forgive himself.

After the events of these chapters, Umemiya seems to be recovering well, and makes a vow to protect the ones he loves.

However, there’s a catch: Umemiya says that he won’t fail again. Subconsciously, he still feels responsible for everything, despite his saviors and Shitara’s words, as well as his own feelings.

Which brings us back to Umemiya and Takiishi’s fight in Noroshi.

Instead of trying to put everything on Takiishi, he instead blames himself for letting Noroshi wage war on Furin. Since he never truly got to understand Chika during their first year, this means it was his own shortcoming, right?

But just like his childhood days, Umemiya is wrong. It’s not his fault (it’s literally Chika and Endo’s LOL). Yet, his old guilt complex comes into play here. Even though Ume has recovered mentally since his family’s death, old habits die hard.

What’s interesting to me is how this panel was written in the original Japanese version:

Ume refers to himself as オレ (ore, meaning I), but the furinaga beside it reads てめ (teme, meaning you but said in a derogatory way). If you don’t know what furinaga is, this explains it better than I can.

In manga, furinaga can also utilized as a double meaning for certain words as a stylistic choice. (Unfortunately it doesn’t translate well in English or other languages :C) In this specific panel, “I” here can be read as “you” derogatorily). Given that Ume is blaming himself, he also refers to himself in a much more worse light, further emphasizing the guilt he feels.

However, this wasn’t the only thing that has stayed from his childhood days. His entire philosophy about food stems from his past experiences and even the advice he gives to Choji during Shishitoren is reminiscent of what his savior had told him. It’s pretty cool how even after all his growth, Umemiya’s grief still affects him to this day.

[lalithemidnightmuse7]

Nosferatu 2024 : part 1 (spoiler)

Thinking about Nosferatu again, I had a lingering questions that led me down a path of researchs. (This is purely my own speculation—an attempt to make sense of some of the film’s most intriguing elements. Of course, everyone has their own interpretation, and perhaps no one can fully grasp the truth of this multilayered masterpiece except the director himself) anyway, this is my take on it...

the other day i was reading the script, and I noticed that in the character introduction, Ellen was referred to as a somnambulist. which surprised me. Of all the ways to describe her, why this one? but hear me out....

a somnambulist is simply a sleepwalker, But metaphorically, it often represents someone trapped between waking and dreaming, reality and illusion, life and death. - you are not for the living -

but in the romanian folklore the sleepwalkers represent the moroi vii (living ghosts). living people who are believed to have an unnatural connection to the spirit world. they are also belived to be the people who display unnatural behaviors, such as being weak during the day but strangely energized at night, experiencing vivid dreams, or affecting people around them with their emotions or presence.

they were also described as soul that wanders—they might unconsciously leave their body during sleep, sometimes appearing as shadows or specters to others -This could explain why Thomas sees Ellen while he’s in the castle -

and some villages feared that moroii vii could harm others through envy, curses, or draining energy from those around them. Others believed that they were just unfortunate souls suffering from an affliction.

(But what i find even more intriguing is that Nosferatu doesn’t just portray ellen as a liminal figure. The entire film is steeped in liminality. Thomas, for instance, is constantly in an in-between state—his stay in the hotel, his journey to the castle, his time in Orlok’s domain.)

anyway...now going back to strigoi , they are a risen from the dead creatures who are driven by a deep, endless hunger, not just for blood but also for what they lost in death—love, warmth, human connection. but i also found that Some legends say that if a Strigoi drinks the blood of a loved one, they may be at peace for a while, but they will always need more. - does that reminds you of a scean maybe ? -

i will leave it at this...i mean....you get it ?

So in the end, this was the most fulfilling answer I could find to this question of why was she was called a somnambulist . Of course, there are still others—questions that linger, ones I might share here eventually, considering my Nosferatu obsession isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

truly yours,

laly.

[lol-im-done]

Impossible Choices - Chapter Two

summary: You had been raised expecting nothing more than to do us your Gods instructed, to use your powers to keep the Targaryens in power but what happens when that very family threatens to destroy itself?

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

tags: slow burn, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, dark magic

can also be read on ao3

chapter 1

chapter two: broken illusions

Dragonstone, 132 AC

The winding cobblestone streets and mismatched roofs of the homes, taverns and brothels of King’s Landing lay beneath you. A rush of air filled your lungs, breaths harmonizing with the legendary beast beneath you who let out a mighty roar. An airy, melodic voice calls out to you. Atop her mount she sits, a beautiful cerulean creature that twists powerfully in the sky, her rider’s silver braid whipping in the wind. 

“I shall enjoy this ride greatly! I fear it may be my last for a long time to come!”

“Why do you say that?”  The voice that comes from your mouth is not your own, it is masculine and regal. 

“When the dragons dance in the sky I shall not join them. Their fiery waltz invites destruction.”

“Dance? What dance?”

Her response becomes more distant, you struggle to understand. Before you’re able to make sense of it, the dream ends and your stomach drops as you plummet back into reality. 

There was no relaxed awakening, her words sending a surge of panic through your limbs - Their fiery waltz invites destruction. It takes a few moments for you to regain control of your racing heart, peering around your chambers to reorient yourself. The flames from the fireplace bounce off the stone walls, the heat causing beads of sweat to accumulate on your brow. In the distance you can hear the screeches of dragons from beyond the Dragonmont, the rumbling of those that lay beneath the castle. This had not been your first time dreaming with dragons or through the eyes of another but it had been your first time encountering her. Alas there was not a moment to reflect on your dream, with exhaustion still clinging to your bones you roused yourself from bed and knelt by the flames. 

“Balerion, King of the Gods, I seek to prove myself worthy of these powers you have given me. Morghul grant me a long life to be of service to you and the Gods. Grant me a peaceful journey to your realm when the time comes. Tessarion allow me to see beyond this mortal world....”. 

The prayers you had recited since you had been a novice in the Order held more weight this day than they had in years before. You were no longer a Sister, but now a High Priestess of the Order of Visenya. Balerion himself had whispered his directive into High Mother Valarr’s ear, changing the course of your life. There was no moment to doubt yourself, it was an arduous trial in order to endure the heightened powers that you would receive if you passed through the Realm of the Gods and back unscathed. Women had crumbled to ashes before your eyes as they attempted this ritual in your youth but it did not matter, this was your fate. Flashes of the trial strike your mind, hands trembling as you dress yourself-

The Realm of the Gods had at first been pitch black, but slowly as if a veil lifted you were standing in a vast throne room, thrones of dragonglass in a semi circle, fires blazing at every corner. 

“Zūgagon mandia?” A voice booms in the distance, shaking the ground beneath you. Afraid sister? 

“Dōrī,” you manage to say. Never. 

“Nēdenka hāedar. Ivestragī īlva ūndegon skoros kustikāne ao drējī emagon,” a more feminine voice almost teases. Brave girl, let us see what strength you truly possess. 

What had come next was unlike anything you had experienced before, as if every nerve in your body had been doused by dragonfire. The very blood in your veins turning to lava as you absorbed the immense power the Gods gifted you. Visions of the past, unclear and overwhelming made you feel like you had gone mad. After it had all ended you had returned to the Tower of the Order, curled up on the floor, a river of blood seeping from your nose and ears. Lesia approached you with scissors and with a gentle hand cut your hair that had recently reached your waist. Now the tresses kissed your jaw, the rest going into an offering bowl that Aera placed into the flames. Next you weakly removed your right glove before Aera made a cut across the palm of your hand with a knife. It would join the countless other scars that adorned your hands, your blood pooling into the bowl. It was no longer red, but as black as the night sky. 

High Mother Valarr stood above you, statue like- 

“Do you renounce all vanity, pride, self indulgence and love in order to serve our Gods without distraction?”

“Kessa.” Yes.  

“Do you swear utmost fealty to our Gods?”

“Kessa.”

“Do you swear to ensure with all of your power that the Song of Ice and Fire is fulfilled?”

“Kessa.”

“Would you die in service to our Gods?”

“Nyke jāhor. Issa glaeson iksos pōjon naejot gūrogon.” I will. My life is theirs to take. 

“Rise High Priestess of the Sacred Order of Visenya.”

Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you reach for your symbol of rank within the Order, wincing at the sharpness against your skin. It was Valyrian in design, a dragonglass diadem framing your forehead and cheekbones with curved points that pointed upwards past your head. With a final tie of your robes you descended down the Tower of the Order. On the ground floor Aera and Lesia were already seated. The usual pleasantries were exchanged, plans for later in the day and slips of gossip from the castle. 

“Enough idle chatter.” 

The atmosphere instantly sobered, spoons falling as everyone stood from their seats as High Mother Valarr strode into the room. 

“Sȳz tubis Eglie Muña.” Good morrow High Mother. 

“Sisters you may assume your duties for the day, High Priestess join me,” High Mother did not give you a chance to break your fast before she was already exiting the Tower. Lesia and Aera gave you encouraging smiles before returning to their bread. 

The golden rays of sun shone through the clouds that blanketed the sky, signaling the start of the day. Dragonstone now brimmed with life. In the distance you saw the young Princes, Jacaerys and Lucerys, making their way to training as they shoved each other jovially. In the halls you could hear the squeals of babes, maids rushing to and fro, members of court discussing news from every corner of King’s Landing. Although you had lived on Dragonstone for many years you had resided on its periphery, never truly being part of court life. Not that you minded, your life was filled with purposeful work and your Sisters were of good company. 

“His Grace, the King, has requested that you remain permanently at Princess Rhaenyra’s court here on Dragonstone. Lesia and Aera will be posted where they are needed in the coming moons,” High Mother Valarr explained as she guided you towards the Chamber of the Painted Table. 

“I am honored High Mother,” you nod, making sure to straighten your posture, hoping you exuded confidence in front of Princess Rhaneyra. The Realm’s Delight was as enchanting as she was fiery in her disposition. She had only ever been kind to you in your interactions but you still found yourself intimidated by her presence. After all she was the Heir to the Iron Throne, your very purpose was to serve her and her line. 

No announcement was needed, the stationed guards swung the heavy doors open at High Mother’s instruction. Entering the historic room you were met with a domestic picture; Princess Rhaenyra cupping the maroon velvet that encompassed her growing stomach, her other hand being held softly by Prince Daemon. It had only been a moon since she had announced the babe growing within her and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“High Mother Valarr. High Priestess,” Princess Rhaenyra greeted you with a charming smile. In contrast Prince Daemon wore a tepid look, giving you a half hearted nod that you only received as a result of spending countless hours with him in the hot tunnels searching for dragon eggs. 

“Princess, My Prince,” you bowed in practiced deference. 

“I have spoken with His Grace and we agree it is time that you have a High Priestess to serve you. I will continue to travel between Dragonstone and King’s Landing during this transitional period but I have utmost confidence in the council the High Priestess will provide you,” High Mother Valarr announced. 

Rhaenyra cannot help but clap her hands together, pleased at the prospect of having a new member of her court. “Please accept our most sincere congratulations, I understand this is quite an honor in the Order.” 

Before you could give your thanks, a mischievous smirk wormed itself onto Daemon’s face signaling the trouble those lips would bring. “I sometimes wonder why you and your little gaggle of sorceresses never took up permanent residence in King’s Landing,” Daemon tilted his head back leisurely. “Is your influence still limited by a certain Seven Pointed Star?”

If it had been anyone else you were sure High Mother Valarr would have slit their tongue but unfortunately you were all well accustomed to Daemon’s brand of thinly veiled disrespect. 

High Mother Valarr’s eye simply twitched. “We have always remained tolerant of other religions as you know Prince Daemon. If the Queen chooses to remain steadfast in her faith that is her choice. I simply offer guidance to His Grace.”

“How diplomatic of you,” Daemon grinned. 

Rhaenyra sent you both an apologetic look, moving to block Daemon from view as she stood from her seat. Unbeknownst to them High Mother Valarr’s hand moved beneath the fabric of her gown and all you hear next is Daemon’s curse - fuck! - as his cup of wine douses him.  

“As I was explaining to the Princess, we have elevated (Y/N)’s position to High Priestess. She will give you not only council but use her skills as is required. I’m sure His Grace explained our mission and what that entails.”

A blank expression appeared on Rhaenyra’s face. The fact that King Viserys had neglected to explain the vital history and importance of the Order did not come as a surprise to you or High Mother Valarr who simply pursed her lips. 

“I must insist we continue this conversation in private, Your Highness.”

“You will not kick me out of mine own-.”

“Husband, I am sure Jace and Luke would appreciate your help in training,” Rhaenyra sent him a pointed look, leaving no room for argument. With a petulant grumble he rises, wine dripping onto the stone, before exiting the hall with a slam of the door. 

Rhaenyra takes a moment to compose herself before continuing. “To be candid High Mother, my Father was quite vague.... he only revealed the prophecy once. I am afraid I am not well versed in the Order’s full purpose.” 

“I am sure with time you will see how useful the High Priestess is. Though I must temper your expectations Princess. Our abilities have limits, we cannot defy the will of the Gods.”

“By this you must mean...magic?”

Magic, sorcery, spellwork- its existence is often doubted and vilified but magic was at the very core of the Order. Abilities mortals could only dream of; endless possibility, endless power but ultimately controlled by the Gods themselves. Even casting a spell as simple as healing a scratch was at their pleasure. 

“Is it true what they say about you in particular?”

You jumped in place, so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed that Rhaenyra was now directly in front of you. “Pardon Your Highness?” you manage.  

“The reason for the gloves, it is said you can see things when you touch one’s skin,” Rhaenyra’s inquisitive eyes glanced down to your hands, covered in dragonhide gloves. 

“There is some truth to that Princess. If I touch your skin I cannot control what I may see. Only what the Gods allow me to see.” 

“I am curious what the Gods wish to reveal about myself.” 

“Princess, I do not wish to distress you or disappoint you.”

“Humor me.” 

It is clear she is testing you. What would the Gods show you? Her innermost secrets and thoughts? Her widely debated past? Endless questions swirled through your mind as you took off your glove, her own hand lifting the sleeve of her arm. No hesitation, the Gods will show you what is necessary. 

The instant your hand touched her wrist, visions filled your mind- Heart wrenching grief, betrayal as sharp as a knife. A babe brought forth before her time. Scales of the dragon. Death. Thunder and darkness, the flap of wings. The beating of a panicked heart. Valyrian floating in the air. Death. Endless rows of ships. Shouts and commands. Bloody arrows swallowed by the waves. Death. The moon beyond Kings Landing. An unbonded rider. Cries of the Mother. Death. 

A cold sensation washed over your body, overwhelmed by what you had seen. Sinister visions of future events all tied to her. Carefully you released your hand from Rhaenyra, placing your glove back on hoping she had not seen it tremble. 

“What did you see?” Rhaenyra whispered, eyebrows furrowing anxiously. 

From the corner of your eye you saw High Mother give an almost unperceivable shake of her head. Forcing your mouth into a false smile, you look her in the eye-  “Nothing Princess, nothing at all.”

The following weeks were a whirlwind, you had not been sure what to expect in your new role but you did not expect being so involved. From dawn until you returned to the Tower for bed you were at the side of one Targaryen or another. Days consisted of attending court alongside Princess Rhaenyra who received visiting Lords and emissaries or assisting her with overseeing Dragonstone. There was one person you were becoming quite close to. Prince Daemon had pulled you aside one afternoon and you soon found yourself at the side of Prince Lucerys, assisting him in his mastery of commanding Arrax. 

Lucerys had a sense of pride that rivaled his brother’s and it forbade him from seeking help when he began to struggle with commands, not wanting to appear as a weak dragonrider. For all of his mockery of the Order, Daemon could not deny the Order’s innate connection with dragons. The very magic that binded the Targaryens to their mounts came from those like you. 

At supper you had your own seat at the table, between Lady Rhaena who enjoyed your retellings of legends of Old Valyria and Prince Jacaerys who had taken to speaking to you in High Valyrian- or at least he tried to, quickly realizing he was not as fluent as he’d thought. It was becoming hard to resist the feeling of familiarity it all brought, it filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t known you longed for. 

It did not take long for the tranquility to be broken; a royal summons arrived by evening raven announcing there was to be a public questioning of Lucerys’ claim as heir of Driftmark. As Maester Gerardys read aloud the letter, Rhaenyra’s hands gripped the edges of the Painted Table harder with each passing moment, her eyes simmering with rage. Poor Lucerys attempted to appear unaffected but his shoulders seemed to fall with every word. Rhaena offered her cousin a hand to hold as a comforting gesture which he gratefully took. 

With the final word read from the letter it did not take long for Daemon to display his indignation, hands slamming onto the ancient table. “How dare they? Those bloody Hightowers must be dancing on the back of my dear brother at this opportunity. How dare that urchin attempt to discredit my son? To publicly question his position as heir, it brings to question his paren-,” Daemon snarls. 

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra cut him off. His words were not suited for all ears present before them, the forbidden topic of her son’s parentage was not to be spoken aloud. “I must confess I am not surprised the Queen and Lord Hand have decided to give credence to Lord Vaemond’s petition in such a public way. I do not wish to give it any further legitimacy by attending,” Rhaenyra announces, mouth twisting in displeasure. 

Mumbles of agreement break out from other members of her court present and you have no choice but to object. 

“Princess if I may,” you stepped forward. “It has been many years since your presence has been felt in King’s Landing. It will do well to remind them of your position as Heir to the Iron Throne and that of Prince Lucerys as Heir of Driftmark. They must see he has grown into a formidable Prince and dragonrider,” you speak up, sending Lucerys a nod of encouragement that seems to lift his spirits slightly. Rhaenyra took a few moments to mull over your words, exchanging a silent look with Daemon, the room silently awaiting her decision. 

“Your reasoning is sound, High Priestess,” Rhaenyra musters a tight lipped smile. “Maester Gerardys, send a raven back to King’s Landing. Notify them we shall arrive in two days' time.” 

It felt like a small victory, proving to be a capable counselor to Rhaenyra but you do not allow yourself to smile even as Daemon claps your shoulder on his way out. As everyone filtered out of the hall, you hadn’t noticed the figure in the corner who watched the interaction with narrowed golden eyes. Without warning you felt a presence behind you and as you spun around your stomach clenched uncomfortably at who stood before you. 

“It is good to see you after so long, High Mother,” you quickly bowed, hoping your tone did not betray your unease. 

Her eyes seem to pierce through you as she towers over you, her presence oppressing you. “It seems you have found your place at court. Princess Rhaenyra takes your enlightening guidance well,” she smiles coldly. “The others clearly trust you, you have become quite close with them from what I hear.” 

Her tone holds an accusation which you try to ignore. “It is only natural, I spend so much time in their company-.”

“Do not grow attached to them, our sacred mission lives beyond them. They are simply a means to an end.”

This time you are unable to quell the shock from your voice, “I do not know what you could possibly mean-.”

“I see it in the way you interact with them. You have a good heart, High Priestess but do not let it cloud your judgment. They are not your family or your blood.”

It is a harsh reminder and you look down at the ground in shame. “I understand High Mother.”

“Our mission is to serve them, yes but they are mere mortals. We must look ahead of them.”

I thought Targaryens were closer to Gods than men,” you can’t help the bite in your tone. 

Her hand suddenly seized your jaw, nails squeezing painfully into your skin as she pulled your head up. “And we are vessels of the Gods. Even the weakest amongst us are more powerful than the best of them,” she squeezes tighter. 

Your eyes widened in shock, every word out of her mouth a contradiction to what had been instilled in you; that the Targaryens were to be idolized and maintained in power at any cost. 

“Arrogance is their folly and downfall,” High Mother Valarr finally released you. “I shall see you in King’s Landing.”

Stumbling backwards you cupped your jaw, fingers smearing the dark blood seeping from your skin. Unable to form any words, you simply watched her go.

[sofiatarot]

How does tarot work?

Tarot can reveal hidden influences shaping your life—things you may not even be aware of, like subconscious beliefs, fears, or past experiences that still affect your decisions. On a deeper level, it can connect you to your soul’s purpose—revealing your strengths, potential, and the life paths that are most aligned with your true essence.

It is a tool that allows me to read more than just your past and future. And all through what? Your present energy. Who you are today. What you identify with. Your habits. Your thoughts and feelings.

Many people misunderstand tarot, especially when they receive a reading they don’t like. If something undesirable shows up in a reading, does that mean you’re doomed? That you have no control and just have to accept it? Absolutely not.

In essence, tarot is a mirror reflecting not just where you are but who you are. It doesn’t just predict your future—it helps you understand why things are happening, what role you play in them, and how you can consciously create the life you desire.

The future is not set in stone.

When I read your cards, I am reading the future that is most aligned with your present energy. This means that your current thoughts, emotions, and actions are creating a path toward a specific outcome. But here’s the key: energy is fluid. The future isn’t fixed—it shifts depending on who you are and what you do.

Let’s say you ask about a job opportunity, and the reading suggests you won’t get it. Instead of taking that as an inevitable fate, you can reflect: Am I truly prepared for this role? Am I embodying the version of myself that succeeds in this job? If not, you can start making changes—improving your skills, shifting your mindset, or even applying elsewhere—therefore aligning with a different, more favorable future.

Your energy dictates your trajectory. Change your energy, and you shift timelines.

You exist in Infinite possibilities.

We live in a reality where infinite versions of you already exist. Every choice you make, every belief you hold, and every action you take aligns you with a different version of yourself—each with its own future. Some versions of you are successful, confident, and abundant. Others may struggle, remain stagnant, or experience hardship.

Tarot simply reveals the path you're currently on. But you are the one who chooses who you want to be.

How fast does energy change? When should I get a reading?

Energy shifts at different speeds for everyone. Small changes in emotion or circumstance might cause a temporary shift, but deep, lasting energetic transformations take time. Just like breaking an old habit or forming a new one, energy needs time to settle into a new frequency.

That’s why I recommend checking your energy every two weeks to a month. This gives enough time for meaningful shifts to occur while ensuring you stay aligned with your goals.

Remember: tarot is not about predicting a fixed destiny. It’s about understanding your energy and consciously directing it toward the future you desire.

What version of yourself do you want to align with today?

-xoxo💋

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Hi!! I have a request for a little! Rio fic! It's a little bit angsty but can you write one where Rio regresses pretty small and just wants her mama, even though she's a ghostie now? Maybe it's after the scene where she tells Billy he may go and after he's gone, she just slips and wants her mama so bad.

Little!Rio - Alone

Regressuary day 2 !!

As you can probably expect this one is ANGSTY… please be careful reading <3

Tw: brief mention of suicide, in depth discussion of death (it’s like the whole thing)

Word count: 594

————————————

Since the beginning of time Rio had presided over earth. She’d experienced life and death and everything in between a trillion times and would go on to do so an infinite number of times more. She’d seen people laugh and cry, fall in and out of love, kill each other, kill themselves. She’d been the face of fear and the hand of death to every being that’d ever existed yet somehow nothing had hurt as much as this.

As Rio stood in the dark, windy, yard, accompanied only by the flowers bloomed by her own hand, she realised for the first time the finality of death. Agatha was gone. As the younger witch had requested she hadn’t seen Rio’s face as she crossed over, and Rio hadn’t seen hers in return. She’d spent the better half of her existence loving Agatha, and a fair bit of that watching her from a distance like a lost puppy. But now there was no one to love, no one to watch. No Mama. Just Rio.

It was fitting that death was the last one standing at the end of the road. She always was. Death couldn’t cry, couldn't feel such a pitiful human emotion as grief. But somehow she did, every death she’d played a role in since the beginning of time could not compete with the pain this one death forged in her soul. There was no one around anymore, no one to keep her mask up for.

Rio began to regress, her mind growing fuzzy to block out the pain burrowing in her chest. Why was it burning there? Death didn’t have a heart. She sunk to the ground, soft moss engulfing her skeletal knees. She dreamed of a forest far, far away. One with moss just as soft and flowers twice as bright. A home she’d once shared with Agatha, a cottage in the middle of isolation where she’d thought she could live for the rest of eternity, small and safe. At the beginning of time, Rio had thought death was home, that bringing a soul to her realm was bringing them home, but now Agatha was dead and Rio still ached to take her home. Not to the land of souls that were at peace or weeping, but to the little forest with a cottage where they could just be Mama and baby.

Rio wept, though no tears came from her darkened eyes, her chest heaved and her bones rattled. She erupted with choking sounds, strangulated sobs which ached for a comfort they would never again receive. Words slipped through her lips though they fell on deaf ears. Mama. Please, I’m sorry. I want to go home. I need you. But there was no one here, there never would be again.

She dropped her face down by her knees, pressing her forehead into the dirt and moss. Death saw and heard more prayers than any god, but Rio had no god to pray to. She cried to the ground, to the flowers. Allowing her muffled sobs to echo through the soil until she couldn’t tell what was hers anymore. Her words only grew further entangled, coming out wobbly and childlike. Mama. Mama. Mama.

What was there in the world if there wasn’t Mama?

The worst part of it all was that Rio knew Agatha was out there somewhere. That if she hadn’t taken her soul it meant that her Mama wasn’t truly gone. Just hiding from her as promised. Agatha wanted nothing more to do with Rio, but Rio still needed her Mama.

[gothamgossipcorner]

-Log in successfully-

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01/02/200X

Welcome back my fellows Gothamites!

I'm sure you all missed me,And believe me, I missed them too, but student life is exhausting,And as many of you know, being a student in Gotham is praying that the Joker or some lunatic blows up your school.. Nvm, let's talk about the obvious,the topic of this entry: Lunatics in costume.

We all know the lunatics in costumes here,for example, I just mentioned the Joker, there's his well-known assistant Harley Queen, Poison Ivy [Although I think her skin is green, does it still count?] and a big etc.

Now, the second point of this entry:

>Why dress up?

Well, personally I would say the most obvious thing, to avoid making their identity public, ironically most of them are well-known people.

Taking the former prosecutor Harvey Dent as an example. (⁠ー⁠_⁠ー⁠゛⁠)

We all know what happened, which is a shame. But moving on, we can clearly rule out my theory, the identities of the villains in this city are more than known.

So...what is it? What is the reason for most of them wearing flashy and strange costumes?

There are several theories on the internet, and as the incredible being that I am, I will summarize some of them:

1. Identity and Persona

Distinctive Look: Costumes help villains stand out and create a unique identity that audiences can easily recognize.

Symbolism: Many costumes symbolize the villain's powers, goals, or personality traits, enhancing their character depth.

2. Psychological Impact

Fear Factor: A dramatic costume can instill fear in their opponents and the public, making them more imposing.

Alter Ego: Costumes allow villains to adopt a persona that is often darker or more villainous than their everyday self.

3. Storytelling and Themes

Visual Representation: Costumes visually convey themes such as power, chaos, or rebellion, enriching the narrative.

Contrast with Heroes: Villains’ costumes often contrast sharply with heroes, emphasizing their opposition and highlighting moral conflicts.

4. Practical Functionality

Enhanced Abilities: Some costumes are designed to enhance the villain's abilities, like armor for protection or gadgets for combat.

Disguise: Costumes can help villains conceal their true identities, allowing them to operate in secrecy.

In short, it depends a lot on the villain, whether his identity is secret or not, his powers, etc.

So there will never be an easy answer that addresses them all, I guess.

So that's it, I'd like to hear your own theories in the comments, how are you doing in class or at work? It's also nice to hear about you as people. (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

For now,Billy Vendaline says goodbye and wishes you good luck! Stay hydrated, don't leave home after 11:00 and remember: Metropolis may be nice, but nothing like Gotham.

>Gothamgossipcorner logged out

[ofdropeggsonher]

Jesse wasn’t in the mindset to rush into anything, better yet a relationship. One he dreamed about, one he always wanted. Rachel had been his perfect match, she was quirky, she was obsessed with her ambition the spotlight, she craved that attention. She knew how to keep up with him vocally. She also had those vulnerable moments, where I liked when she leaned on me. And not to toot his own horn here, he was the reason she got into NYADA I was the one who talked Tibideaux into believing in Rachel, in giving her the chance for a second time, and look where Rachel was. She staring in her dream role, she was performing everyday, It kinda fell into place because of me. 

But Jesse he wasn’t lucky, he had to work his ass off in order to land roles, he was in vocal coaching classes, he had work on his feet work, his supportive of others, compassion. And London worked for him, perhaps he had ot wonder if the city was meant to be. But he was wary of himself when he was with Rachel, he tended to lose himself for her. He’d risk it all for her, and if that meant putting a hold on his plans to get back to his life, to London for an extra day he would. But he kept those noticeable thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to fight, he wanted to enjoy any time either of us had for the other. 

“ As if you ever leave the city.” I knew what Rachel meant, me moving here, because  Rachel Barry had everything she desired here, the stardom, the fame, the spotlight, but I had to consider my options would I be moving to New York down the line for the right reasons.. A tease in his tone as a echoed laugh left his lips. I was joking, Anything was possible, and whos perhaps the run on broadway would kickstart a new ambition of hers, and I’d be here, a friend to support her wherever either of us ended up. “ I do want to spend time with you Rachel, and if fate falls where it may, who knows for us..” Pausing licking over his lips before he went on. “ I just want to take it slow, we’ve rushed into feelings before..” Third had to be a charm, or I feared our future as together could be doomed.

Continued

@swornoffofeggs

As teenagers you always believe you have your priorities planned out. You always think the big dreams are going to fall into place. Jesse can admit he was selfish, he was the guy that only looked out for himself. He was the star of vocal adrenaline, he only wanted to be the best. And that meant hurting others he never planned on caring about in the process. He saw it as a game; he knew of Rachel when he not so accidentally ran into her in that music store, it was a plan one Shelbey and him had orchestrated. He needed Rachel to fall for him, be distracted, she was his only real competition. And even to this day he knew it had stopped being a game the more he got to know her; the way he saw her smile when he held her hand. When she laughed at his lame jokes when we watched grease. But he was in too deep; and the only way out was for Rachel to hate him. To believe it was all a game, to believe he never liked her. She was annoying, selfish but the truth was she was the one that he fell hard for. 

Each time he found a way to end up back in Lima; he wanted to see her. She had big ambitious dreams, and he wanted her to achieve everything she wanted. It fell right into her lap, the performing arts school; with his aid of course. But that was a story for another time. And Funny Girl; she was the youngest star in the making; and he felt proud of her. It was rare he’d ever admit someone was just as talented as him but Rachel lit the candle. It was a shame the stars weren’t lining up for the pair. 

His passion, his everyday work was in London; we opened shows in a few weeks, and he never expected to feel this strongly upon seeing her again. Upon hearing her voice, it made goosebumps form on his arms. To hold her in his arms again, he felt the racing of his chest as we swayed to the music. I heard it in her voice, she was happy for me, just as I was for her. But there was a hint of sadness realizing whatever we attempted to start tonight; and in the next few days was pointless. But the ache in my heart formed at the thought of not taking my shot. I was here for her; I wanted to hold her hand; tell her how remarkable talented she was as long as I could. The night was young; once we escaped this party the night was ours. 

A smile hinted at the corners of his lips as he dropped his hand from around her waist, the one he still had wrapped around her smaller palm. “ Well the reviews are out on that one. We open in a few weeks, and I’d hate to bail just because I found a better offer.” A tease written in his voice. As he glanced down to meet her gaze. Brief before he tugged the brunette through the mountains of crowded people. Bodies pushed up against us until we pushed through the swinging doors. The slight breeze hitting my face as we landed outside. Cars lined up against the curbs. The people chatting as they crossed streets; some attempting to march into the after party; not that I cared. I got away from prying eyes, I got away from the judgy looks. Now it was only us; me being the trouble in this situation. 

Hands dropping to my side, I kept my fingers locked in hers; letting Rachel decide if she wanted to let go. Tilting his head down narrowing eyes on her. “ As much as I love you having your own driver on the wait for us, I think walking would be best.” Pausing as he leaned down until lips were inches from her ear. “ Besides I’d rather have you to myself Berry.” A whisper against her ear before he lifted his head up with a smirk landing on bare lips. 

[middlingmay]

So I rewatched Elvis and have we done canon-ish era music star Gale yet?

Gale has terrible stage fright, but music was an escape for him growing up. The ethereal beauty in the voices of Billie Holiday and Eartha Kitt. The sweet crooning of the Ink Spots and Ella Fitzgerald (ol' blue eyes Frankie Sinatra could only dream), the visceral, soulful sounds of B. B. King that reached into a fella and just yanked at that something under the naval and made him have to move with it...

Mother told him he had a good voice all his life. But the idea of getting on a stage terrified him, that he thought it was never going to happen. Until it did.

He vomited before hand an alarming number of times. But as soon as the lights went down and the band started up Gale floated away, and King Cleven took his place.

Gale could never nearly remember any of it afterwards, no matter how often he went up there. Something just came over him whenever he got on stage.

So maybe he goes overseas to entertain the troops. He knows they prefer the female acts - the singers, dancers, comediennes and the like - but his songs had made it on the radio and everyone was having a good time. Some of the fellas had demanded that he teach them how to dance like that and all he can say is,

"Hell. I don't even know how I dance like that. How the hell am I supposed to teach you?"

He feels eyes on him. When he's on stage one of the men in particular watches him. Not his performance. Not his wild, uncouth dancing. Him.

After, when most of the fellas have crowded closer to the stage, that same fella joins him at the bar. Wide shoulders. Curly hair. Thin moustache. Thick neck to match his waist.

A Major, his uniform betrays him.

He looks at Gale. In a way he'll never become accustomed to getting looked at. It always makes him uncomfortable and defensive and peevish.

But for once, he wants to look back, at this man who slowly grins and spreads his legs cocky like when he takes the stool next to Gale.

Or! Maybe it's post-war and John is feeling listless after the army. He seeks out every good time he can possibly find and none of it does anything to quieten his head, help him sleep, calm his heart, or fill the rotting, crumbling core of him.

He hears of a show for this new up and comer making all kinds of waves, good and bad. Dancing in ways that offends folks but singing like he has both heaven and hell in him. John can't resist seeing it for himself. Music is his biggest joy and is the one thing the war didn't take from him.

A friend points the fella out when they're buying drinks. John watches him smile at the people vying for his attention and can see the sharpness. He tosses a frankly terrible wink that people seem to love, but John can read the darkness swirl behind his eyes - that of a cornered man. He looks calm and suave and composed, but John can see the tremor in his leg and the nervous twitch of his hand.

What a strange mix of contradictions is Gale "King" Cleven.

On stage, he transforms into something else entirely. He's all soft melody and belting vocals, rasping and crooning in turn. He's wild hip swings and loose hands and feet that can't stop moving.

He's hypnotic. Erotic. And every person man or woman at that show wants at least some small piece of him after watching him perform.

But it's John he sends that shitty wink to every time he catches him looking.

John has to go for a smoke afterwards. He feels like he's just experienced something transformative. Like there was John before this and John after this.

Except, fuck him and his life, because Gale Cleven pours himself out into the alley after him, shaking and laughing lowly to himself, until he catches sight of John and freezes.

John winks at him this time. And Christ Almighty a man who has spent most of his night feeding the fantasies of the masses with his gyrating, blushes. Cute as a button. Demures, even. And John is in a whole hell of a lot of trouble.

[clowndensation]

there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

[brionysea]

stranger things fandom loves the 'gay rights' parts but not the 'you still need to be normal about women' parts