#in fact i doubt they existed in that dream and that those moves were just their organic power

[hrrtshape]

THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU'RE DOUBTING SHIFTING a.k.a DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL ✶

the idea of souls is the most beautiful, most romantic thing ever. because...who are we really? we’re not just flesh and bone, ticking along. we’re something more.

your soul is the eternal essence of you—your consciousness, your thoughts, your love, your dreams. it’s the part of you that has existed forever and will continue long after this one human life is done. the body? a temporary rental. the soul? that's the real home.

imagine this: your soul is like a little spark of the universe, a fragment of the stars, wandering through realities to experience everything it can. each life, each timeline, each moment is like flipping to a new page in a book. it’s all about the story, and the story is infinite.

𖥻  THE ETERNAL YOU. who you are right now? that’s just one chapter. your soul has seen other worlds, other lives, other possibilities. every little thing you feel, the deja vu, the dreams that feel too real, the magnetic pull toward certain initiatives, periods of time, objects—that’s your soul saying, “hey, remember when we were here before ?”

𖥻  SOULS DON’T AGE. that’s the gag. you might be whatever age you are right now here and now, but your soul? it's ancient. timeless. wise beyond the stars. think about how you sometimes just know things, or you feel a deep connection to places, people, or ideas. that’s your soul’s memory peeking through.

𖥻  THE COSMIC GAME. your soul came here to play. to love, cry, mess up, and learn. it’s all about experience—because even the messy parts, the heartbreak and chaos? they add flavour to the story. your soul isn’t scared of pain; it’s curious. it’s here to gather every emotion, every shade of existence.

𖥻  SOUL CONNECTIONS. you know those people you meet and immediately click with, like you’ve known them forever? or the places that feel like home even if you’ve never been there? that’s soul recognition. your soul is like, “hey, I know you ! we’ve danced this dance before.” example of this in my life is the fact that i genuinely believe i'm connected with the city of paris—i can't begin to describe the depression i have whenever i leave it or the ecstasy that runs through my brain every second i'm there. coincidence`? i think not.

𖥻  THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR CANVAS. your soul doesn’t just exist in this one little reality. oh no. it's out there painting across dimensions, skipping through timelines, creating infinite versions of itself. and every version? it’s still YOU. all of them are threads in the tapestry of your existence.

𖥻  SOULS ARE STARDUST. LITERALLY. you’re made of the same stuff as the stars. so, if you’ve ever stared at the night sky and felt small, flip that thought. you’re not small—you’re connected. you’re the universe looking back at itself. you’re a whole galaxy in human form.

𖥻  LOVE IS THE LANGUAGE OF SOULS. not just romantic love (though, yes, swoon), but the love you feel for life, art, music, laughter, sunsets, the way your favourite book smells. that’s your soul’s way of speaking. every time you feel love, you’re feeding your soul.

𖥻  DEATH ISN’T THE END. it’s just the soul saying, “okay, cool chapter. time for the next one.” it’s moving forward, exploring, learning, always expanding. the end of this life is just the beginning of another adventure.

𖥻  YOU’RE NOT YOUR BODY. your body is stunning and unique and so, so special. but it’s not YOU. the real you is the consciousness inside, the little light piloting this human-shaped vessel. your soul chose this body, this life, this moment for a reason.

𖥻  EVERYTHING IS VIBRATION. your soul is energy. and energy? it doesn’t die. it flows, shifts, and transforms. when you feel aligned, like you’re glowing or vibrating with joy—that’s your soul saying, “YES, this is it, this is what i’m here for.”

so when you feel stuck or small, remember this: you are a spark of eternity wrapped up in human skin. you are light, love, and infinite potential. your soul is dancing through this reality, and every breath, every moment is a gift it chose to experience.

you’re a freaking miracle. and everything is truly possible.

[tired-needs-sleep]

i didn't plan on falling asleep, but it happened and i had a crazy dream again. i usually don't remember dreams very frequently but 2 in like a week's span is crazy in itself. anyway....

the setting is a place similar to blackstepple castle, a dark-colored castle that was very obvious was old. one event or another caused me, who happened to be sara this dream but for simplicity i'll just say kisaragi's name because i didn't exactly feel like me in the dream

they're with some friends and somehow they get captured. they're taken to the castle, and i don't actually think it was super far away. the terrain didn't change much, actually. it was all snowy. anyway, sara is thrown into a cell and faints, but a voice swirls around their head: don't know exactly what the full thing was but it ended with "you were destined to rule this castle." that's the last thing i remember in that part.

kisaragi's friends, who i didn't recognize from anywhere, found this odd pit with dark energy that they could interact with. it was in a cave but the area it was in had a hole in the roof to the surface. they messed around with this pit, and found that sara could somehow communicate with those friends through some means on the other side. don't know how because the dream never fully explainedz but what i did see was sara on the other side was in the bottom of the pit and could see silhouettes of those three friends, but if they tried to touch them they found it was just an illusion. but the voices were from the real friends and they even dropped some food down into the pit and it got to sara. yet i was aware this pit wasn't like a regular hole you know? like a portal that acted and looked like it wasn't one

at some point sara is trying to escape. unsure if there's anyone helping them but there's 3 different major guardians of this castle. and each had their own boss battle arena. sara got through two before they ran into the final one, a dragon. think it had four legs and wings and was dark colored too, but not the same as the castle wall color. like a navy blue color. anyway they try to go and escape through the door but it's locked, they get caught by this dragon, and are thrown back into their cell. again that voice says that they are destined to rule the castle, and she faints.

skipping over some time because i don't remember what happens between then and the second time sara and friends communicate again, they give them food and plan a second attempt to escape. once the meeting is over sara tries to touch one of their friends, but the portal's illusion ripples when they brush their fingers through. again, that voice speaks, repeats that they are destined to rule that castle, and instead of passing out, sara leaves and breaks through the prison cells, then releases the others in captivity after taking care of the guard. things get wild, prisoners are angry and vengeful against the guards with how they treated the captives. sara takes this distraction and bolts, some of the other captives also follow them. they easily cut through the first and second boss fight guardians, and for some reason or another, sara is the only one willing to actually fight the dragon. despite loosing the first time.

so they fight. sara does a little sword's dance and dodges the first attack. they manage to climb onto it's back, probably trying to reach the weak spot on the back of it's neck- like that's a hard place to reach on a cat or dog so i guess that's based in some form of logic. but then this dragon flies up, and flings sara into the air. that did.. almost nothing though. they use pursuit and catch up to the dragon, speed up it's back, and night slash. dragon screeches, and crashes down. it's a rough landing but they're alright.

i wish i could tell you what happened next, but i woke up around now. i remember seeing the dragon just laying there, but kisaragi was looking at it with shock. rightfully so, that was a wild battle, huh?

cool storyline even without some details that would've been helpful lmao. i just think medieval rpgs are cool and it's one of my favorite type of games

[alyrasturnz]

Could you please do a really angsty fic with Matt! Only no cheating - maybe their schedules just aren’t lining up and there’s been distance between them.

I NEED a good angsty argument fic!! Happy ending please 🤞🏼🫶🏼

SAD BEAUTIFUL TRAGIC

❐ summary » as the unyielding hands of time weave their intricate patterns and the miles stretch like an endless horizon, the bond between matt and y/n is strained by the harsh dance of distance and fate. the once vibrant threads of their connection now bear the weight of separation, each moment apart a silent echo of longing.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » arguing (resolved), drinking wine, lowkey toxic!matt

❐ a/n && w/c » writers block has officially hit me • 2.33k

in the dim light of the moon, shadows dance across the room as you toss and turn in the bed you share with matt. frustration builds with each restless movement, until a groan escapes your lips and you sit up abruptly, the weight of the night's turmoil pressing heavily on your shoulders.

sleep eluded you in matt's absence, a fact he was all too aware of. the emptiness on his side of the bed was a silent testament to the void his presence filled, a void that gnawed at your peace and kept you awake through the long, lonely hours of the night.

with deliberate care, you peeled the blanket from your body, the cool air pricking at your skin as you rose. each step was measured as you made your way to the kitchen, the quiet house amplifying the sound of your footfalls. reaching for a glass, you filled it with water, the liquid offering a momentary respite from the turmoil within.

you meandered to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on the dining table where matt’s untouched meal sat, a silent testament to the evening’s unresolved tensions.

you let out a weary sigh, your steps heavy as you approached the dining table. with a sense of resignation, you lifted matt’s plate, the untouched food a poignant reminder of his absence.

you made your way back to the kitchen, each step echoing the solitude of the night. with a gentle tug, you opened the fridge, placing matt’s plate inside with a sense of finality. the door closed with a soft thud, sealing away the remnants of the evening.

matt was seldom home these days, his presence becoming a rare and fleeting occurrence. his schedule moved like a shadow across the sundial, always slipping away just as yours approached.

your own routine, bound by its own relentless march, never seemed to find that elusive moment of alignment with his. thus, you both existed in parallel realms, forever out of sync, like two celestial bodies orbiting the same star but never crossing paths.

you endeavored to quell the rising tide of frustration within you, yet the ache of longing for the love you and matt once shared proved insurmountable. it was as if the echoes of your past affection lingered in the air, haunting the empty spaces and whispering of a time when hearts beat in unison.

the once radiant love you shared, now withered and diminished, seemed to fade away even within the tender grasp of your own loving hands. it was as though the very essence of your affection had been eroded, leaving behind only the fragile remnants of what once flourished so vibrantly.

your dreams would often wander to an alternate existence, a life where matt's presence was unwavering, and his dedication to the relationship was absolute. in this imagined reality, he was fully engaged, his efforts a testament to a love that was nurtured and cherished with every fiber of his being.

every moment was imbued with a sense of completeness, a harmonious dance of two souls intertwined, each step taken with purpose and passion. in this vision, the shadows of doubt and distance were banished, replaced by the warm glow of mutual commitment and an unbreakable bond.

his presence at home was a rarity, and on those infrequent occasions when he did grace the household with his company, every conversation seemed destined to devolve into conflict. it was as though the very air between you was charged with an inevitable tension, transforming even the simplest exchanges into battlegrounds of disunity.

you harbored a fervent wish for a return to the halcyon days of yore, a time when harmony reigned and the simplicity of your connection was unmarred by the complexities that now beset it.

yet, the immutable threads of fate remain beyond your grasp, their intricate design impervious to the desires of mortal hearts.

you sighed heavily, relinquishing the water with a sense of resignation. your hand reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, the cool touch of its stem a stark contrast to your inner turmoil. with a sense of urgency, you retrieved a bottle of wine, the liquid cascading into the glass as if it could drown the weight of your thoughts.

you ran a hand through your hair, each strand slipping through your fingers as if seeking escape from the turmoil within. tears welled in your eyes, glistening with the weight of unspoken sorrow. with a swift, almost frantic motion, you raised the glass to your lips, downing the wine as though its liquid fire could quell the tempest raging in your soul.

you yearned for an escape, a sanctuary that matt once effortlessly provided, his presence a refuge from the relentless storm of reality.

the wine flooded your senses in a hazy, euphoric embrace, yet the fleeting relief proved insufficient to numb your awareness. tears streamed down your face, each droplet a testament to the relentless surge of emotions that the wine could not quell.

you angrily set the wine glass down, the forceful motion resonating with your inner turmoil. soft sobs escaped your lips, their intensity so profound that they drowned out the subtle creak of the front door opening.

matt hastily discarded his belongings, the door closing with a muted thud behind him, as he sprinted towards you with a sense of urgency.

"hey, hey, hey," he quickly murmured, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped your face, his touch both urgent and tender. he gently guided your gaze to meet his, his eyes searching yours with deep concern. "whats wrong, baby?” he cooed softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within you, as your eyebrows furrowed and tears continued to cascade down your cheeks.

you harshly extricated yourself from matt's grasp, your sudden movement causing him to stumble back slightly, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion at your unexpected behavior.

“dont be like that” you sobbed uncontrollably, your body trembling with each gasp for breath, while matt furrowed his eyebrows deeply, his face etched with a blend of concern and helplessness.

"like what?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper that hung in the air. he stepped towards you with tentative caution, but you instinctively stepped back, the distance between you both sending metaphorical bullets right through matt's heart, each step a painful reminder of the growing chasm.

"you never get it, do you, matt? every time i need you, you're always somewhere else, doing something else. your schedule never aligns with mine, and i'm left here, waiting, always waiting." you retort, your voice cracking as tears continue to stream down your face.

"it's not like i don't try, you know. i have commitments, responsibilities. it's not like i can just drop everything at a moment's notice." matt responds with a gentle tone, yet there's an unmistakable sternness woven into his words.

"but that's the problem, isn't it? i'm never a priority. it's always work, or friends, or something else. i'm tired of feeling like an afterthought." you retort with a sharp, incisive response

frustration begins to seep through matt’s veins, coursing like a slow-burning poison, each pulse intensifying the storm brewing within him. “that's not fair. you know i care about you. but life isn't that simple. i can't just be there all the time." he intones, his voice gradually ascending in volume

"then what do you expect me to do? just sit here and accept that i'll always come second? you don't understand how much it hurts." you murmur, your voice diminishing in volume with each word you articulate

"and you think it doesn't hurt me too? i'm trying my best, but it's never enough for you. i'm just as frustrated as you are." he exclaims sharply, his voice crescendoing with mounting frustration, each word laden with palpable exasperation

"well, maybe your best isn't good enough. maybe we're just fooling ourselves thinking this can work when it clearly can't." you shake your head slowly, your arms crossing resolutely over your chest

"so what, you want to give up? just throw everything away because it's hard? that's not how relationships work." he intones, his voice gradually diminishing to a softer timbre

"no, matt, that's not what i want. i want you to fight for us, to make an effort. but it feels like i'm the only one fighting here." you utter, your voice steeped in unadulterated desperation

"i am fighting, but it's like you don't see it. every compromise, every sacrifice, it's for us. but you only see what i'm not doing." he articulates, his voice a tapestry woven with threads of desperation and frustration, each word a testament to his inner turmoil.

"because what you're not doing is what's breaking us apart. i need you, and you're never there. it's like i'm invisible." you utter a plaintive cry, a haunting echo of raw emotion reverberating through the silence.

"you're not invisible. i see you, i hear you. but it's like we're speaking different languages. i don't know how to fix this." he murmurs in a tone laden with the weight of defeat.

"maybe there's nothing to fix. maybe we're just too different, too out of sync. maybe this is the end." you shake your head, a silent gesture imbued with layers of unspoken resignation and quiet dissent.

"i don't want it to be the end. but i don't know how to make you see that i'm trying. i don't know how to make this right." he implores with a voice tinged with the raw edges of desperation.

"maybe it's too late for that. maybe we've already lost each other in the space between our lives." you murmur softly, your words a gentle whisper that barely disturbs the air.

as the palpable tension thickens the very air around you, matt steps closer, his eyes a tumultuous sea of emotions, desperately seeking a glimmer of reconciliation in yours. each step he takes is laden with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts.

he leans in, his intent clear as he attempts to bridge the vast chasm that has grown between you with a kiss, a gesture meant to mend what is broken. but in that very moment, you pull back sharply, your movements swift and decisive, as a tempest of fury ignites within your eyes, a blazing inferno that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

"don't try to kiss me just to fix it! can't you just try to listen for once?" your voice cracks with the weight of unspoken pain. "you think a kiss will make everything better, but it won't. not this time."

matt's frustration flares, his face a mask of confusion and hurt. "i'm trying, but you keep pushing me away. what do you want from me?"

"i want you to hear me, matt! really hear me. not just with your ears, but with your heart. i'm tired of feeling like my words are falling on deaf ears." you speak in a voice thick with frustration, your words trembling as tears cascade down your face, each droplet a testament to the emotional tempest raging within.

"i do hear you," he insists, but the words resonate with a hollow timbre, echoing emptily in the cavernous silence between you, devoid of the conviction they once held.

"no, you don't. if you did, you wouldn't be trying to fix things with a kiss. you'd be trying to understand why i'm so upset in the first place." you declare vehemently, storming out of the kitchen with a tempestuous energy, striding purposefully into your bedroom, where the door slams shut with a resounding finality.

the ensuing silence is deafening, an abyss of stillness that stretches infinitely, creating a chasm that appears insurmountable.

»--•--«

as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, matt sits at the foot of the bed, his hair disheveled and his eyes shadowed with the weight of a sleepless night. his voice, barely more than a whisper, breaks the silence, "i'm sorry," he murmurs, the words laden with the exhaustion and regret that have etched themselves into his features.

“you didnt sleep” you murmur softly, your voice barely a whisper as you gradually shift to an upright position, the weight of your words hanging delicately in the air.

he disregards your assertion, proceeding to articulate every sentiment that had been lingering within him. “i promise to do better," he continues, his voice trembling slightly. "i'll try to be around more often, no matter how packed my schedule gets. you deserve more than this."

you look at him, your eyes softening despite the hurt. "matt, it's not just about being here physically. i need you to be present, to really be here with me."

he nods, swallowing hard. "i know, and i will be. i'll make more time for us, for you. i don't want to lose what we have. you're everything to me."

your voice wavers, "i just... i need to feel like i'm a priority, not an afterthought. i need to know that you care enough to make the effort."

matt reaches out, taking your hand in his. "you are my priority. i care more than words can say. i know i've been distant, caught up in work and everything else, but that's going to change. i'll make sure of it. we'll find time for us, even if it means rearranging everything."

you squeeze his hand, a small tear escaping down your cheek. "i want to believe you, matt. i really do. but it's been so hard."

he gently wipes the tear away, his touch tender. "i understand. and i'll prove it to you, every single day. we'll rebuild this, stronger than before. i love you, and i'm not going to let anything come between us again."

you nod slowly, a glimmer of hope returning to your eyes. "okay, matt. let's try. but it has to be both of us, together."

he smiles faintly, relief washing over him. "together. always."

[leviscolwill]

i want you to miss me — jules kounde

jules has always had the terrible habit of being late to everything.

he would always get fined or even benched for running late to team talks. his friends started lying to him about the time they’re meeting up about seven years ago. and he had spent an incredible number of hours in detention for this when he was still in school.

but there was a time when he was never late whenever it came to you. he would skip class just to be on time when you got out of school, even when the only words you spat at him were insults. they sounded so beautiful out of your mouth, and the mere fact you acknowledged his existence was enough to satisfy him.

jules absolutely loved the chase. riling you up, watching the embarrassment creep up on you whenever he’d showed up with flowers you had the courtesy to take home. but the one thing he loved more than the chase was being loved by you.

if heaven was real, surely feel like your love. he looked forward to every moment with you. he was the perfect boyfriend anyone could dream of. everyone either wanted to be you, to be him, or was confused about who they wanted to be.

after a few months, he started being late to the dates you arranged to fit his schedule. when you moved together after a couple years, he’d come home later because he was catching up with his mates, dismissing the effort you’d put into the food and the candle that lit up the living room. but you would always find him excuses, compromised with him and that was easily forgotten.

there was no doubt in jules’ mind and heart that you were the woman of his dreams and that he would eventually grow old with you. he’d always make you feel understood and heard whenever you voiced your worries to him, asking him to be a little more present for you. it always got better, but only for a few weeks before he started missing dinners with your family. leaving it up to you to find new excuses to your nieces as to why he wasn’t here.

your last straw was the day of your graduation. he had promised on every precious thing he had he would be there on time, especially knowing your family wouldn’t be able to attend. jules was the only one that could be here for you that day. hell, he was the only one you needed that day. but he couldn’t even make that effort.

you were already seating in front of your university with big mascara stained tears when the car you knew too well pulled up. when your eyes met his, you only found the strength to tell him to get you home. he probably talked to you for the whole ride, with new excuses but your brain tuned it off, your decision was already made.

of course, it hurt that you broke up with him. but he was even more hurt by your helplessness, to see that it deeply pained you even if you were the one calling it quits. you told him to never contact you, it would be too hard not to give in. and so he did.

after the breakup, he didn’t even try to find the time to cry, or grieve the end of his first real love. instead, he drowned himself in work. and soon enough those efforts paid off. he was getting calls from multiple clubs, from his national team coach and the engine had started.

it’s not like he had forgotten about you, whenever he was celebrating his achievements with his friends, he’d always think about how he would have loved to celebrate with you. you had always been always happier than him about his successes and that made him thrive to get better.

he had allowed himself to love again. got himself a new girlfriend; loving and caring like you, but not like you. they broke up, and he was okay, even relieved in a way. thankfully, the scar you had left was slowly healing.

but he was so, so wrong about that. it only took one eye contact at a mutual friend engagement party to set him 4 years back. he remembered your tears, but mostly your laugh and that was enough to give him the confidence to walk up to you.

you look stunning, your sparkly dress looked like it was made for you, and he couldn’t help but take a little pride into thinking he’s the one who helped you navigate and find your real style. your smile was radiant and you made everybody around you laugh, like you always did.

“oh jules! it’s so nice seeing you, i didn’t think you would be there.” the tone you used had no hidden venom, only genuine surprise and happiness. others that had been glued to you since you stepped in walked away, well aware of you two’s history.

“yeah it’s been a while. you’re doing well, yeah ?” your radiant a mile made his own appear as questions were asked and answered back and forth naturally. and it didn’t feel like 4 years passed since he last spoke to you, he still felt like he knew you from the inside out, and he really did.

the feeling was mutual, you never felt such ease speaking to nobody but jules. he was looking gorgeous and well spoken as he’d always been. his eyes looked deep into yours whenever you were speaking, sometimes feeling a little bit more adventurous and trailing to your lips.

after what seemed like half an hour to the both you but was really two hours, jules felt the express the heavy feeling on his heart as his fingers traced your hand and played with your rings.

“you know… i don’t like how things ended between us. i know i have my wrongs, but i’m a better man now, thanks to you. i was thinking maybe we could you know grab coffee. i really wanna get to know the new you, like what you became since – well you know…”

“oh, i mean…” seeing the puzzled look on your face, he immediately cut you off.

“don’t get me wrong, yeah? it doesn’t have to be a date, or too anything too formal. just for the sake of old time and see where this takes us, you know.”

“jules…” his eyes finally dared to met yours. you had never seen him this nervous about anything before.

you took a deep breath before saying what needed to be said.

“i’m sorry… but i’m getting married in a month.” you really were sorry. sorry for him obviously. but mostly to yourself, because you’d always envision yourself walking down the aisle to him, not anyone else.

he stayed silent for a little while, taking a few seconds to admire the moles on your face that he had the habit to count when he was close enough to you.

“he makes you happy?”

“very…”

selfishly, he hoped you had said otherwise, but he also believed he probably deserved to feel that sharp pain in his heart. he had no one to blame but himself really, if he had the guts to contact you, to tell you how he felt before you’d met whoever the lucky guy was, maybe things would have been different.

but he was always too late, and that would never change.

[kirisunshineboy]

𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧 | 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

☆ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: min yoongi/reader ☆ 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: pure fluff ☆ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: a little to much fluff ☆ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.6k ☆ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Yoongi arrives home late. Again. So much time off without him has made you think that maybe there's someone else he's interested in now, and you can't bear the pain of that thought.

☆ 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: The word apapachar comes from Nahuatl, and means "to caress with the soul". It is considered one of the most beautiful words in Mexico, and, personally, it is my favorite of all the words in my language. Btw, sorry for any grammatical errors, English isn't my first language.

You always wait for Yoongi awake. Or at least you try to. The first few times weren't that hard: you just sat on the couch in front of the front door and after twenty minutes he would come in apologizing for being late. You didn't care. It wasn't that big of a deal. 

He would come up to you and give you a kiss on the head, kneeling in front of you to rest his head on your lap as a way of apologizing. You always played hard to get, but you could never resist him and ended up accepting his offer of peace, starting to slip your fingers through his soft locks to brush them and massage his head. 

It would all continue with Yoongi carrying you in his arms to his room to tuck you in, giving you kisses with quick flutters all over your face between his every move, ending with him hugging your body gently as he traced slow circles on your back. 

"I love you" was the last thing you heard before falling into dreams. 

But that wasn't happening anymore. 

Not in a long time. 

You can't remember the last day you even saw him at a time other than him coming out of the bedroom early in the morning, leaving you alone in the big bed you share. 

In fact, you can't even be sure if you're still sharing it, as it's been two weeks since his presence in the evenings has been non-existent. 

You've almost forgotten what his soothing touch feels like on your heavy back. 

You glance at the clock by the door. 03:25 a.m.

Your eyes feel heavy and you don't think you can stay awake any longer. Although to be honest, not that that's of any use. Deep in your heart you know that Yoongi probably won't make it home tonight. Or the next. 

Work? Yeah, maybe. You know how obsessive he can be when it comes to producing music. But you're suspicious. And it's at times like this that your doubts are triggered, embracing your unconscious in a way you hate. 

You'd be lying if you said you've never wondered if there's someone else. It's normal, isn't it? And sure, you'd have your reasons for doubting, but it doesn't take you long to bury those thoughts to the back of your mind every time. 

Only this time it's different.

The back-to-back unexplained absences and the strange barrier of distance that has risen between you do nothing to dull your thoughts. 

Yes, maybe you found someone else. Someone who shares the same passion he does for music. Someone who doesn't need so much annoying physical affection. Someone he can talk to about his work without having to explain every little concept. 

You feel your eyes fill with tears and your eyes sting. 

3:50 a.m.

It wouldn't be hard for him to get someone else. You're the first to say he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, I mean, why did he pick you in the first place? Having thousands, millions, of options. Maybe you were just a passing fancy. Maybe he realized the women he could get and decided to pass you up. You wouldn't blame him if he decided to dump you in a corner at the drop of a hat. 

At this point, you're curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. Silent tears slide down the surface of your skin and land on the soft fabric covering you. 

It's okay, isn't it? 

You love him. And people who love should step aside if they are no longer reciprocated. That's the way it should be. 

You feel a blue feeling run through you from top to bottom. This only intensifies when you hear the door lock rattle heavily. 

4:10 a.m.

Yoongi arrives. 

When the door opens, you can see his silhouette walking wearily into the house, closing the door carefully behind him. His shadow moves and leaves his coat on the coat rack, sighing heavily. Yoongi moves toward you, but without noticing you yet. Not that there is any light to indicate your presence. 

You feel a new horde of tears threatening to come out and you tremble. 

Yoongi seems to notice a lump on the couch and turns on the lights just in time to see your figure writhing in spasms under the blanket. 

His face goes from tired to worried in an instant. 

"Honey, what's wrong, what are you doing awake at this hour?" Yoongi whispers as he approaches your trembling figure. His face looks alarmed as he stands in front of you. 

What Yoongi watches closely are your watery eyes and flushed nose. Your flushed cheeks and tousled hair make him fidget.

You still can't speak. Not with the lump in your throat. 

"Honey, please talk to me"

Yoongi insists, kneeling in front of you and reaching for your hands underneath the cloth. His heavy eyes are flashing an alarm signal beneath you. 

"You are late. Again." 

The words leave your throat in a wisp of a voice that Yoongi wouldn't have heard but for the silence there. 

Yoongi clenches your hands and looks down, guilty. 

"I... The job took me longer than expected, you know I've been working on the album I told you about and-"

You don't let him finish. 

"You're going to leave me?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Your tone is the complete opposite of your current appearance, which is destroyed and tearful. Yoongi looks up at you, surprised by your question. He lets go of your hands. 

"What are you talking about?"

You feel your chest tighten. You open your mouth again and try to speak, but only rubbery, unintelligible gasps come from your lips. Yoongi distinguishes a few loose things among your babbling, "You're always late," "I know I'm not as interesting as other women," and a halting, "I'll do better."

You don't know how to describe Yoongi's expression as he stands up and turns his back to you, mumbling. He holds his hair before asking you. "What woman are you talking about?"

You look up from the blanket and he turns to face you. Your eyes meet. 

"Isn't that why you're not home?"

"I'm not-"

"Isn't that why you don't hug me?"

Yoongi can swear he feels his heart melt with an acidic sense of guilt after hearing you. 

He rushes to hug you tightly, wrapping his arms around your sobbing body. 

You are like this because of him. 

It's his fault. 

You feel like you could burst into tears right there. 

"Oh, honey," Yoongi's voice sounds broken. More crying builds up in you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

You allow yourself to relax under his embrace. You missed him so much. Yoongi tightens his grip on you and drowns your sobs in his chest. 

"I thought that- that I was the problem and that you didn't like me anymore-" you cry. 

"Please, please don't say that," he begs. He takes your face in his hands and removes the hair over your face to look at you. Now you can make out the dark bags under his eyes. Now Yoongi's nose and cheeks are red too. 

"I'm sorry" He says."Sorry for being away so much, sorry for not explaining anything to you, I didn't mean for you to feel this way..... I'm just- sorry for everything, honey..."

Yoongi kisses your face in messy motions, desperate to let you know he loves you, that he would never stop.

More apologies spill from his lips between each kiss. He takes special care to cover your nose and forehead with affection, mingling his own tears with yours. 

"I-I love you so much and it has never crossed my mind to have anyone else. You're all I want with me, forgive me..."

Yoongi catches you in a protective embrace. You wrap your limbs around his torso, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his body. He smiles, tracing the familiar circles on your back to reassure you. Your eyes close longingly at the movement of his fingers on your skin. You had missed him so much. 

His breathing begins to soothe you, calming your crying after a few minutes. Yoongi buries his face in your hair, breathing slowly. He had missed you too. 

After a few moments that felt long, you feel him stand up and lift you with him, carrying you all the way to his bedroom. He sets you down on the bed and asks you to let go. 

"It will only take a moment, I promise. I'm not going anywhere," he says and gives you one of his rubbery smiles. You reluctantly agree, letting go to hug yourself. 

Yoongi turns his back on you and walks over to the closet to find you some comfortable clothes to sleep in. He decides to bypass your pajamas and goes straight to his part of the closet to give you his favorite shirt and a pair of shorts. He pulls out his own change of clothes and lays them on the bed next to you. 

You feel tired and it's no wonder, as it's after five in the morning. Yoongi takes off your top and puts on his shirt, kissing your shoulders before doing so. Then he puts on his shorts. When he finishes changing you to sleep he doles out more kisses on your face, leaving a soft one on your lips. 

You wait for him to finish dressing and when he does, he takes one end of the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you, moving you around until he has laid down as well. He pulls you in until you are facing his chest and turns off the light, lulling you to sleep. His arms tighten around you as he draws slow patterns on your back. 

Your eyelids feel heavy and you cling closer to his warmth, feeling yourself slowly fade away.

"I love you" Is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. 

[shimmeringweeds]

"Past or Future, Let Them Be." vs. "Even without seeing hope, it doesn't mean there is no hope."

In talking about theme, motivation, and growth.

Almost every photograph in season one conveyed a love story. Romantic, platonic, familial, it didn't really matter the form. Season one was about bonds, connections, helping one another, and fighting for a future with no regrets.

It was human. It was relatable. We all loved it.

Season two covered one photograph (two if you count Chen Bin) and a horror story, wherein "love" only brought pain. Bonds held you back, and secrets were kept before connections made. A struggle, full of regrets.

Completely different, weren't they?

I'm sure we all notice how, on the official character profiles, the stickers of the antagonists hide the "future" of "past or future, let them be"?

Interesting. The word "future" implies hope, something season two deliberately lacked. What we witnessed wasn't a fight for the future. It was a fight for survival of the present. In that tunnel? No one was thinking about their future. The game played was a cruel one. Mercy really wasn't in the cards. Who cares about the future when you are barely surviving the present?

Let's talk a little bit about the theming of "hope."

Pt 1: Cheng Xiaoshi . Even without seeing hope, it doesn't mean there is no hope.

Hope always exists, but it's so easily lost.

The first photograph where hope is explicitly themed is DouDou's, and the timing couldn't have been better. After the earthquake, Cheng Xiaoshi is teetering on the edge of hopelessness. He's hard on himself and hard on others. "Take care of yourself now and look forward"; "Live your life, be present, move on," he says. That's not bad advice but..... it's harsh. I wouldn't say these words lack all hope, but they ask you to give up the fight for a future you dream of.

In that moment, Cheng Xiaoshi is trying to cope. He can't save them. Not all futures are possible, and it's foolish to want something you can never have. It's heartbreaking for everyone to watch.

Qiao Ling is the mediator who brings him back. She communicates and is vulnerable and honest with him about her regret.

"I thought I could escape the past... but... he still didn't give up." Haunted by the past, struggling into the present, and fighting for a future you want.

The strongest Three Star Warrior is the star of Justice, rekindling hope. As long as we have hope, we will not be defeated easily.

(also, can we just... as an aside.... their roles????? LG courage-obliterating fear, QL wisdom - light the way, CXS justice - rekindling hope. Because, if that's not blatant theming then I don't know what is.)

DouDou's case heals Cheng Xiaoshi. He helped create a future... and that is BIG. He created a future. From the past. Actively. There is hope!

But doubt still remains like a double edged sword. It surfaces again with Xu Shanshan and culminates with Emma.

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't wait for Lu Guang before he dives. The puzzle is linking. This is his fault. He has to make it right. Immediately. Alone. There is no time.

"Why is my kindness repaid with such consequences?"

In the trunk of the car, upon the discovery that the victim is Emma, the puzzle clicks with devastating swiftness. No one is there to talk him down. It's all his fault. Emma, Xu Shanshan, Qiao Ling, his parents. Who else has he hurt? He's caught in a decision. How does he make this right? Does he follow his heart, or does he follow logic - the rules driven into his head?

It's his fault and so.... Cheng Xiaoshi does not trust his heart. But what does he trust? He trusts Lu Guang. Rules it is.

Pt 2: Lu Guang: Past or Future, Let Them Be.

There are three rules, and the third is most important. In fact, you might argue that the first two rules are simply supplemental to the third.

I'm pretty big on rules myself. They exist for a reason and keep us safe. We trust that those who make the rules know what is best for us.... but, it's not really a one size fits all kind of deal, is it?

That third, important rule, that rule that exists to protect time and everyone in it, that very rule is what is destroying Cheng Xiaoshi's heart. We know Lu Guang sees that, and we know (now more than ever) how much he cares.

His character is still an enigma that is very hard to read, so this is just speculation but -- after the Earthquake, Lu Guang's perspective on the future seems to shift. He was always working to help others, but now he's more proactive about it. He keeps DouDou's flier, he immediately contacts Xiao Li about Xu Shanshan, he tells them what he saw in the photo, he trusts Cheng Xiaoshi to act.

Emma(1) and Lin Zhen/Yu Xia (2) were jobs taken to gather information. Chen Xiao's (3-5) job was taken to give closure. These three jobs helped a person in the present. Did they change the future? Oh, yes. But that wasn't the intent. And that's why you don't ask about the future, because the future will definitely be changed because of them.

Episode 5.5. When Qiao Lings asks them to take a job for Liu Siwen, they don't know the specifics. They don't know that Liu Siwen is now an old man. Upon failure, Cheng Xiaoshi asks Qiao Ling where in the world she found such a task? Lu Guang immediately scolds and reminds him not to ask about the future. Qiao Ling interrupts him (bless her, she was really like "stop, you're being an idiot too") She spills all the details.

In the end, Lu Guang breaks his own rule (as CXS points out, though he says he's just there to keep them in line. yeah, right. ). He actively helps Liu Siwen create a future. A future he literally spent decades fighting for. And that's where the tables turn.

Both DouDou and Xu Shanshan's cases twist two out of the three rules. They actively question the future and they actively change the future. They don't let the past be. And Cheng Xiaoshi is permitted to act outside of Lu Guang's direction. He receives that blessing.

Because Lu Guang saw how much his rules hurt Cheng Xiaoshi. He saw what over protection does to a person. Cheng Xiaoshi wasn't the only one deep in thought after the earthquake.

Episode 11: Pinnacle of Light "But Emma's fate changed because of me. That's why I'll try again, no matter what happens." ------- (BIG side eyes at that wording. Yeah, no wonder Lu Guang agreed to let Cheng Xiaoshi dive into blind surveillance footage.)

Cheng Xiaoshi dives into Emma's past. As himself. He talks directly to Emma. And Lu Guang doesn't stop him. This action is the exact opposite of "Past or Future, Let Them Be." Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't get farther from that phrase if he tried! And oh, he tried. He tried to save Emma. And Lu Guang just let's him. Knowing that death node cannot be crossed. He stays silent. Because he's guided Cheng Xiaoshi as far as he can.

At this point, he can only accept the aftermath of his guidance. Let him be.

Pt. 3: Past and Future vs. Past and Present vs. Present and Future

If season one was about fighting for a future, for hope, then season two was its antithesis. No matter what anyone did, the future was set in stone. It was all they could do to keep up. Qian Jin warping the narrative, disillusioned by the past. Li Tianchen controlling the tempo, always staying one step ahead, firmly in his present hell. Li Tianxi dying in order to reach a "future" (but she's not dead until there's a funeral, we've been through this).

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang barely communicate the whole season. There's no time to. The present moment is that merciless. The start of Li Tianxi's photograph was refreshing because it was like old times, a comfortable place. The banter, the directions, the casualness of it all.

But the past did not give way to a future of hope, and the present came crashing down hard and merciless. And it never let up. The abductions, the deaths, the tunnel. The only reason any of them make it out of that tunnel alive is, ironically, because Xiao Li showed up. (or is it ironic. He's a whole other post I'll never write. )

Season one shaped the past for a brighter future. Season two displayed firmly that the present is fixed and the past cannot be changed.

So season three?

Present into Future. Season two left us with a question to ponder.

Do you accept the fate given to you as inevitability, or do you actively try and shape it?

We see both our "protagonists" and "antagonists" (it's more grey than that, really) moving forward but they're displayed as opposites. Liu Xiao pulls Li Tianchen up, active from the present, out into a future. Does he have a choice but to move forward? Is there anything he can change about his past regrets? No. Maybe not. Present, being directed by one Future.

But Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang? They actively drag us back down to the past. And on top of that it's a choice. A desperate, active choice made to do away with the rules. Past, reshaping potential Futures.

Because even without seeing hope. It doesn't mean there is no hope.

[captain-mj]

Hey, 🦭 here back from the grave (was just resting after a hellish week of school)

I have been obsessed with Sleep Token especially their song called 'Chokehold' which in think is very eldritch GhostSoap coded, with Ghost being an eldritch god and Soap being his most devoted follower (iykyk)

And Ghost who just adores his follower and can't help but grant Soap's indulgence and desires because of his own selfishness

Could you possibly make a fic like that? Pretty please with a bit of dynamite on top :3

-🦭

(The brainrot is brainrotting /srs)

I love that song so much, I can of course do that!! Also, it's nice to see you again :)

Ghost sat in his temple silently. He observed those who came in and offered things and those with entertaining tales or genuine needs were given what they asked. Most requests though were... petty. Indulgent. A desperate plea for more attention, more money, more pleasure.

Ghost wanted to lash out at them some days. And he did. He'd curse them with impotence, poverty and isolation at the drop of a hat. It had become a known risk to everyone but...

Johnny.

His favorite follower.

He lifted his hand, letting the priest cut his wrist so blood would flow.

Ghost listened intently, letting the other prayers fall away like rushing water.

"Ghost." His name on his tongue was beautiful. "I am here to request something." Normally, Ghost would listen to his request, answer it immediately and let Soap leave. But today, he wanted it to be different.

Gently, not wanting to hurt him or any of his other loving followers, he spoke. "Everyone must leave except the current person praying."

His priests hopped to it, herding everyone out. It left Soap alone in the place of worship.

Soap looked up at the depictions of Ghost. Of dark wide eyes staring into the souls of anyone who came in. Ready to dismiss them or bless them on a whim.

"My God." He moved to kneel, averting his eyes. "I always feel your presence here. I never thought I'd be chosen to hear your voice or hold your attention like this."

"You think you hold all of my attention?" Ghost had created universes. Species. Had senses that would melt Soap's brain to even be explained. But yeah, Soap did in fact have all of his attention. He just shouldn't assume he did.

Or he could. Ghost doubted, even if he disrespected him to his face, he could stay mad for too long.

Soap tensed. "No! Of course not, it's just more attention than I'd ever expect. I'm...."

"Keep your eyes on the ground." Ghost stepped in front of him. Smoke billowed off of him, form fading in and out of existence. "Wouldn't want to drive my favorite follower insane."

Soap's breathing hitched. "Favorite?"

Ghost ignored him. "What is it you want?"

"I..."

"Spit it out."

"Health. For my family."

Ghost hummed. "Granted. What else?"

"What?"

"That's for your family. Would you like anything?"

"I... um..."

"Anything you want."

Soap nodded. "I... I don't know. I don't have anything else I desire."

Ghost hummed. "I see. How sweet." He trailed around him in circles. "Power beyond wildest dreams? Friends and worshippers? Enough money to indulgent in all forms of debauchery?"

"No. I don't find much interest in those."

Ghost nodded. "Well, I want to give you something for yourself. Selfishly of course."

Soap almost looked up before quickly remembering his place. "If you'd so please, my holiness."

My?

My??

Ghost touched him, feeling him shiver and shake, almost doubling over. Soap whimpered, burying his face on to the floor as sensations rushed through him. He ended the contact and watched him sink further.

"You're interesting, Johnny."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Your family will be healthy. You have given me enough, today."

"If I found something to wish for, could I come back tomorrow?"

Ghost paused and mulled over it. "Come at night. You could spend it with me." He'd have to be so gentle, but the idea of holding Soap in his hands. "I won't fault you if you don't."

"I will. I'll be here. I promise, I'll..." Ghost grabbed him by the scruff and felt him twist in his hands, overcome with feelings again. Soap grabbed his leg for support and whimpered. It wasn't the most pleasant sensation for most people, but like he predicted, Soap liked it. Maybe it would become an addiction. That way Soap was just addicted to his presence as Ghost was becoming to Soap.

"You will. And I'll grant you all of your desires."

[roninishere]

Strong.

Part 2 of Half of my heart!

Obanai Iguro x Female Reader

Warnings: horrible grammar? Haha

Summary: things finally were coming together.

||

‘My hands, your hands
Tied up like two ships
Drifting, weightless
Waves trying to break it
I'd do anything to save it
Why is it so hard to say it?’

‘I’m so sorry Y/N, I can’t come home yet. The only way I can come home is if I kill Muzan, and finally purify my blood.’

It was time.

Demon Slayer Corps successful took down Muzan and the rest of the upper moons with no casualties. It was a miracle.

Y/N started to get worried when a week had passed after the final battle, where was he?

He promised.

After asking Tengen and his wives to pick your up after school and watch over him, you had rushed home to pack a small bag. Just enough for a day trip.

He promised though.

Swinging the door open, nearly rushing out, a familiar black and white stripped hoari caught your eyes, bringing you to a full halt. Your eyes shot up, and you swore you thought you were gunna faint. You locked eyes with those familiar yellow and turquoise eyes; and your knees buckled. Before they gave out, you leaned your hip and body weight on the side of the door frame.

He kept his promise.

You got some overwhelmed with emotions, you started crying as you regained your posture. Was this real? Or were you dreaming?

You weren’t emotional often, but fuck you were a fool for the serpent Hashira. This is four YEARS into the making, for this very moment. Subconsciously, you closed the gap between the two of you, bringing your hands up to his face. You thought your heart was going to burst out of you chest. Your palms were embarrassing sweaty as you cupped his cheeks, letting out the softest joy of laugh ‘He’s really here…’

Obanai had always been hesitant and awkward with affection, so when he didn’t go to touch or embrace you, it didn’t bother you. Though the instant you set your hands on his face over his bandages, he dropped his luggage bag, he instantly leaned into your touch as his beautiful unique eyes were locked on yours. Your eyes were so breathtaking and beautiful as he remembered.

The unfamiliar feeling of warm and fuzziness ran through his body when you moved in close, pressing your lips on his bandages, where his lips would be, for a couple seconds before pulling back with the biggest smile he’s ever seen “Welcome home baby.”

Welcome home baby. Between those words and the fact that you were so loving towards him, even with the new scars nasty on his face, he felt he was on cloud nine.

“I’m so sorry that it took this long,” he started with that look of disappointment and shame in his eyes that unfortunately was common to you. “Even though Muzan is gone, a part of me still feels like I shouldn’t be here, that I don’t deserve this. Not with everything I’ve put you through. I feel like I’m still a disgrace.” The feelings he had about his past still very much existed for the now former Hashira, and it continues to break your heart.

He had been through so much not only the first twelve years of his life, but in general. He was a man of insecurities, self doubt, and self hate. You wanted to help change that.

“I understand baby, I promised that I’d wait a hundred years for you if that’s how long it took. As for you still have those feelings, over time they’ll go away,” your gentle words brought him to tears, and you never saw him shed a tear. “But it’ll take time, and for you to forgive yourself. It starts with you. I’ve forgiven you the moment our little boy was born,” you gently brushed your thumbs across the bandages and whispered “You were never a disgrace, and you still will never be one. You’ve saved hundreds of lives! Probably even thousands! If you’re anything, you’re a hero baby.

“You deserve to be happy again, to be with the ones that you love, to finally live your life. How you want.”

Your words gave him strength to finally touch you, he engulfed you into his arms, hugging you so tight that it was slightly difficult to breathe.

‘My heart, your heart
Sit tight like bookends
Pages between us
Written with no end
So many words we're not saying
Don't wanna wait till it's gone
You make me strong’

“Do you trust me?” Your question had him taken him by surprise but he didn’t hesitate to answer “With my life.”

Your brain went a little mushy thinking that was super cute of him to say, you blushed before picking up his luggage bag with one hand as you tugged for him to follow you into your home. You brought him to you-now your guys bedroom, set his luggage down in front of your-now his as well drawers before you closed the sliding doors.

“Wait, where’s Kaburamaru?” You couldn’t believe you almost forgot.

A soft muffled chuckle left Obanais lips at your concern “He’s in the trees in front, he wanted to give us…privacy.”

“Oh how considerate!”

‘I'm sorry if I say I need you
But I don't care, I'm not scared of love
'Cause when I'm not with you, I'm weaker
Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong?
That you make me strong’

Four years. Fours years since the two of you were this close. You lead him to the edge of the bed, your fingers running through his hair, brushing it the stains out of his face. You nudged his legs to open so you placed yourself in the middle of them, securing all space between the two of you as you bent down, kissing all his scars.

His hands flumbed with your kimono as his eyes were glued onto your face. Your kisses were so soft, lingering, and tiniest bit wet as you kissed what seemed like ever inch of his face. Untying your kimono, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, and with a soft thud, you were half naked in front him. Unable to break away from your gaze, his hands find your waist, giving the soft skin squeezes here and there.

Your fingers found their way behind his head, slowly untying his bandages, unwrapping the rest of his face. You pecked the top of his nose saying “So handsome,” as you gently tossed the bandages behind him, continuing on with your attack with kisses.

Feeling you kissing the corner of his lips, Obanai felt like he was gunna faint from such affection. It wasn’t the first time that you kissed his scars or called him handsome, but he felt his face get hot and flustered as his hands grip your hips. Once you’ve layered so many kisses on his face, you pull back, your hands trailing down to unbutton his top.

The way your hair fell over your shoulders, surrounding you and the Serpents Hashiras, made it that more easier for him to look at your pumped lip that you currently had dragged underneath your teeth. Oh god he was always weak when you bit your lip like that, got him so turned on. Your clumsy fingers were struggling to undress him, though it’s not like you always were undressing someone. He was the last person you had been with.

You were just as breathtaking as the last time you two were intimate.

Feeling his eyes glued to your face, you nervous chuckled as you looked into his eyes for a moment before getting the last button undone. “There…” you breathed as you pushed off his top along with haori, and your expression never changed. Never once to the battle scars he had endured. Scars never once bothered you, you told him they were simply art, and behind all art, there was always a story.

Of course you had your own fair share of them, but Obanais scars didn’t scare or make you disgusted. If they made you feel anything, just a feeling of unease that he had endured so much pain at a young age.

She smiled so brightly at him saying “I’m sorry if I say that I need you Obanai.”

‘Think of how much
Love that's been wasted
People always
Trying to escape it
Move on to stop their heart breaking
But there's nothing I'm running from
You make me strong’

The both of you crash on the bed, catching your breaths after the two of you were coming down from your climaxes. You sat up on your elbow, leaning over to lay kisses back on his face with the cutest giggles. You were so happy to have him home, it was like a part of you came back. Whatever doubts you ever had, immediately disappeared with Obanai.

“Y/N?” His whisper was so soft as his hand cupped your cheek, “Hmmmm?”

Oh, the way your eyes lit up as you gave him your undivided attention, and that same bright smile of yours that made him fall in love with you when he first met you. Wow, how he’s missed this. Just when he couldn’t fall harder, he did.

“I love you so much,” your eyes turned ever to loving, finally hearing those words leave his word rather written in a letter than his crow delivered to you. “Marry me, so I can finally be the man you deserve. I promise I will make up my absence for the rest of our lives.”

Lost for words, you were cheesing as you nodded as the words came back to you “Oh baby I love you too, and of course I’ll marry you and make you the happiest man ever!”

“I already am,” he admitted gently against her lips as he combed back her hair.

oh shit this was really happening. Things finally working out for you and your son.

“Alright,” you sat up, stretching out a bit before giving him the softest and loving kiss, “come, I’m going to start a bath for us, there’s someone important you have to meet.”

Someone important you have to meet, those words echoed in his head which brought him both joy and a nerve racking feeling. Obanai was scared that his own son would reject him, tell him to stay away, cry and say he hated him.

Even though he deserved it, but his true obstacle wasn’t getting forgiveness for you, but from the spilt image of him.

‘I'm sorry if I say I need you
But I don't care, I'm not scared of love
'Cause when I'm not with you I'm weaker
Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong?’

The more you told him that he had nothing to worry about, it leveled out his nerves. He also felt like you made him stronger, not afraid of being himself, of taking chances. A leap of faith. He brought your hand up to his face, kissing your hand through his bandages before you knocked on the door of the Uzui’s home.

‘So, baby, hold on to my heart, ooh
Need you to keep me from falling apart
I'll always hold on
'Cause you make me strong’

“You have eyes like mine! Are you my father? Momma said you were away fighting to protect us from the monsters! Are all the monsters gone?!” The former Hashiras eyes flickered to you, which you have him a cheeky smile. Well, she wasn’t wrong now was she?

Bending down to his son level, he brushed back his sons hair with such love in his eyes, “I am, and yes all the monsters are gone. I can finally be with you two.”

“Momma! Is this true?” He turned back with so much excitement as his mother nodded with a smile “It is my love!”

Before he could say anything, the little boy jumped into his fathers arm, hugging him so tightly saying how much he had been looking for this moment. To meet his father. How happy he was.

‘ I'm sorry if I say I need you
But I don't care, I'm not scared of love
'Cause when I'm not with you, I'm weaker
Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong?’

Love. Obanai Iguro had never felt so much love in his entire life until he could come

home. Until he could be with his family, to be with his son who didn’t fear or hate him.

“You’re not scared?” The little boy brought his hand up, touching all of his fathers scars, especially tracing his fingers in the ones at the corner of his lips.

The little boy shook his head “No, momma said scars are like art! A story behind each one!”

If his heart hadn’t melt before, it definitely didn’t right there in that moment. There wasn’t an ounce of fear or disgust in your sons eyes. Just amazed and intrigued by them. The same exact way his sons mother looked at him. With so much love.

‘I'm sorry if I say I need you
But I don't care, I'm not scared of love
'Cause when I'm not with you, I'm weaker
Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong?
That you make me strong’

“Hey,” Obanai nudged his nose against your cheek as his hand caress across your round belly. It was spring time, and you guys watched Obanais minion with Kaburamaru up on his shoulder. You couldn’t help yourself get comfortable and drift off when your husband was calling for your attention. When you turned your head, he thought your droopy sleepy eyes were so adorable “I just wanted to remind you, you two make me so happy, that because if you, you make strong.”

‘I'm sorry if I say I need you
But I don't care, I'm not scared of love
'Cause when I'm not with you, I'm weaker
Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong?
That you make me strong’

Nothing made you more happy than finally being Obanai’s wife, and have a chance to have another baby, but with him along your side this time around. However, for Obanai, love and happiness surrounded for rest of his life…fulfilling those promises he made to you many years ago.

||

😭 I can’t, so much cuteness overload! Special shout-out to @unofficialmuilover for assisting me with the whole thing, song and plot and everything! I hope you all enjoyed!

[heliosrisingheroesimagines]

Hiii! Can we get red chrysanthemums, sunflower, fennel, peony and pink camellia for gray? If that’s too much feel free to leave some out 💚

Gray Reverse:

🌻fennel: what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed the most? 

Gray’s kisses reminded you of butterflies, soft, gentle, a true blink and you’ll miss it moment as he fluttered close one second but was a million miles away in another. He seemed hesitant even when you made the first move, as if he thought you might just be teasing him and you revoke the privilege at any time. His cautious attitude fits with the rest of him but you do feel a little sad that he doesn’t take the initiative more often, hoping once you build his confidence up a bit more he’ll get a little bolder when it comes to exchanging kisses with you.

The least stressful place to be kissed is the top of his head, so Gray preferred there while he got used to being in a relationship with someone who wanted to kiss him. Not having to see your face or recognize how close you are to him certainly helped some of his nerves, but then your smell would fill his nose and he’d begin to sweat. He never knew if he was reacting the way he should or if you noticed how anxious he was, but it was never because of your own actions, more from his inexperience leading to a head full of doubts.

🌻peony: how do they get their s/o to blush? how does their s/o make them blush?

Making you blush tended to be when Gray was relaxed, gushing to you about this or that, showing you that precious smile of his that always had your heart fluttering. Seeing him trust you was overwhelming, his honesty appreciated and encouraged, though you’re at your most flustered when Jet is the one who comes out to play. He always left you speechless on Gray’s behalf, much bolder with his flirting and leaving Gray reeling over how to apologize properly to you.

Just exist within Gray’s thoughts and the man is a blushing mess. The thought of something you did a year ago would still have the power to fluster Gray, allowing him to get lost in memories of you when he needed a distraction from his anxieties. It’s embarrassing to be reactive the way he is to everything you do but the fact you call it cute (which only made his face grow hotter) made him feel a little better about how weak his heart was when it came to you.

🌻pink camellia: how do they react when their s/o is gone for a week? a month?

Thankfully, Gray being so sensitive to everything about you meant that he could get lost in memories and still feel like you were close, even when you were out of reach. You weren’t offended that the memories bring him comfort because you know Gray always wanted to make new ones, and the thought of him being sad that you were gone would have you never leaving his side again (which might not be possible with the job you have). Anything longer than a week leaves him a little restless, with Gray trying even more to throw himself into training and his hero work to keep himself distracted from worrying about you.

🌻red chrysanthemums: how long does it take for them to say ‘i love you’?

Be patient, as those three little words are a hard hurdle for Gray to jump over; he wants to scream it out after every cute thing that you do, but he doesn't want to chase you away so early in the relationship. It would mostly be his confidence issues speaking to him, telling him he doesn’t deserve to love you and expect the same sentiment to be returned. He’s forever working himself out of old habits like psyching himself out and not taking risks, knowing he had to move out of his comfort zone for the sake of your relationship. It’ll still be awhile before Gray manages to spit it out but he’ll make the moment extra special and you’ll see a side of him that you’d never seen before.

🌻sunflower: how would they confess their feelings to their crush?

Gray was working off an adrenaline rush, with Billy hyping him up to chase after his dreams and do what he felt is right in the moment. The minute Gray had you in his sights, with your full attention now on him, the temporary confidence crumbled and now he had no idea what to do. He was floundering, stuttering out excuses that make no sense, wishing he could just disappear into the floor. But now that you were looking at him expectantly he knew he had to swallow his fear and just spit it out, since Billy had promised to be there for him should anything bad happen during his confession.

[bopinion]

2024 / 44

Aperçu of the week

"I think artificial intelligence will eventually lead us to our doom!" "I think human intelligence is already doing that!"

(Dialogue in a drawing by German cartoonist Klaus Stuttmann)

Bad News of the Week

Georgia has voted. I'm not talking about the early voting in the southern US state, but the elections in the former Soviet republic in the Caucasus on Europe's easternmost border. In the run-up to the elections, the forecasts were clear and the opposition could safely assume that it would replace the existing government. Even on election day itself, the monitoring at the polling stations painted a clear picture: the pro-Russian party "Georgian Dream" (Kartuli Otsneba / KO) would lose its power, the country would move closer to Europe and shake off Russian dominance. Then came the official result. It was a shock.

The electoral commission declared that the Dream had received 54% of the vote and that the government would therefore remain in power. There was not only a huge outcry among the pro-European opposition. The OECD election observers also came to the conclusion that there were "massive allegations of manipulation that cast doubt on the legitimacy of the elections". And even President Salome Zurabishvili, who was directly elected by the people, spoke of fraud, saying that her country had become the victim of a "Russian special operation". The fact that the neighboring superpower, which still has troops in the secessionist provinces of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, supports the strange private party KO is entirely official policy.

And "Georgian Dream" is indeed strange in many respects. It was only founded in 2012 by oligarch Bidzina Ivanishvili, who made his billions in Russia, as an electoral alliance with the sole purpose of replacing President Mikhail Saakashvili. The plan succeeded, there was no other political program. The KO sees itself as a "conservative political platform", with the sole aim of supporting Vladimir Putin since the beginning of the Russian attack on Ukraine. In view of Georgia's historical experiences with him, this should actually be a no-go.

The people of Georgia are fed up and are taking to the streets. They are largely pro-European, the prospect of EU membership had caused just as much euphoria here as in Ukraine and Moldova. Now they are gathering in front of the parliament again, the media report, singing the European anthem and waving the blue European flag with the yellow stars. "The government has not only stolen the election, but the future," says a politics professor at Georgia's Ilia University. The Dream is still at the levers of power. Which many now only perceive as a nightmare.

Sidekick: In the region around Valencia in Spain, heavy rain has caused a flood disaster of unprecedented proportions. Several hundred people have died and immense damage has been caused. Here, too, the authorities have to face some unpleasant questions.

Good News of the Week

Spot the mistake: among others, Die Zeit publishes a group picture with Pope Francis from within the Vatican. Of the 86 people in the picture, he is the only man. Period. We are talking about the Catholic Church - this picture is a sensation. The World Synod met in Rome for four weeks. It was attended by 462 participants, including those 85 women. Unbelievable for this reactionary organization called the Catholic Church, which has always found the role of women... well... difficult. Let's get one thing straight from the start: The priesthood is still not open to women. And there is still no equality for same-sex partnerships. But that was not to be expected.

Nevertheless, this World Synod - a kind of self-positioning of the Church - took place under completely new auspices of openness and transparency that had never been seen before. The procedure alone: A motley crew of a dozen participants sat around a round table. In the first round, everyone had three minutes to speak. Then three minutes of silence "for the work of the Holy Spirit". In the second round, everyone could respond to everyone else, followed by silence again. And finally consensus and voting. 155 defined topics were dealt with in this way.

The Pope's declared aim of bridging the gap between clergy and laity in the Church was also remarkable. With a clear message to his own management: the bishops should no longer condemn or devalue other ways of life, they should respect people as they are. Boom. The formal conclusion of the World Synod fits in with this. Francis declared that there would be no papal letter on the subject, that their own text would apply. The synod members applauded at this announcement.

Yes, a lot still needs to happen. For example, not only one active participant thought it was a shame that no victims of abuse had their say. I went to a convent boarding school myself. And I actually experienced the two sides of this coin myself. I myself and my two children are not confirmed - and that is no coincidence. But I also know that change takes time. And Francis himself wrote in his recent encyclical that "it is difficult for us to trust because we are wounded by so much deceit." In my view, this is nothing less than an admission of own fallibility. And that from the Pope. Wow.

Sidekick: The run-off election for the presidency has taken place in Moldova. And the incumbent head of state, Maia Sandu, has clearly won. That's good, because she will undoubtedly continue the pro-Western course of government - after all, that's why she was re-elected.

Personal happy moment of the week

I have been writing this blog for almost five years now. In the beginning, I wrote extensive monthly reviews of books and music albums and only short statements on current political issues. These became more and more extensive and required more and more time. As a result, my funny posts such as "Just asking for a friend...", "Inconvenient truths", "Rules that should be laws" or "Breaking news" eventually died out. Now I've received an email from Tumblr congratulating me on 500 posts. I would like to thank you for that. To the readers who give me a few minutes of their time every week to find out what a Bavarian and European thinks about globally more or less relevant political issues. Thank you very much! PS: Maybe one day I'll find the time again to be culturally critical or simply funny ;-)

I couldn't care less...

...that "Hello Kitty" is celebrating her 50th birthday. My daughter is now 21 years old. So I no longer have to buy pencil cases, rucksacks and T-shirts featuring the admittedly rather cute cat. And don't make a Japanese licensor for around 50,000 products (!) even richer.

It's fine with me...

...that my children are indeed responsible for some downloads and uploads, because compared to the official average figures, they actually seem to be below average. Young people in Germany used the internet for a total of 63.7 hours per week in 2023, with the renowned Postbank study only counting time spent online on smartphones, tablets and mobile or desktop PCs. If you add gaming consoles and smart TVs, the numbers are even higher.

I think these are incredible figures. However, I have to admit that my personal media usage has also changed. I now spend more time on news and media websites than on paper newspapers and magazines, which I still subscribe to. If I then add to that the time I spend online for work - collaboration tools, online editing, communication, server use, etc. - as well as streaming services and other media and portals that I consume in my free time, I'm probably not far off.

As I write this...

...I'm quite afraid of the night ahead - it's November 5th. Because I still remember 2016 well: when I went to bed, all was still right with the world. I should have stayed there. Because when I got up and read the first news, I vacillated between incredulous amazement, fits of maniacal laughter, hysterical fits of weeping and blunt unconsciousness. This time I know that it can actually happen. And what it would mean. And that scares me.

Post Scriptum

The 29th Conference of the Parties to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change - or better known as COP29 - will take place in Baku, Azerbaijan, the second half of November. Quite the whole world has this event on the agenda. But there is a little sibling to this conference that already took place last week in Cali, Colombia: the COP16 of the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity (UNCBD). Why haven't you heard anything about it? Because there is hardly anything to report. Because the results are unfortunately, to put it mildly, "manageable".

After tough negotiations, the delegates failed on what is probably the most important issue: how species protection should be financed. The conference had already been extended once. But on Saturday, the Colombian environment minister and president of the conference, Susana Muhamad, had to announce that there were no longer enough participating countries present to continue the negotiations. A few small partial successes remain, such as the appeal to the pharmaceutical and cosmetics industries to pay into a fund that benefits the countries that supply the basis for their products. Or the establishment of a body to represent the interests of indigenous peoples. Better than nothing. But not enough.

[regentreveries]

(joe keery, 28, he/him, cis man, barnes #1) I wonder how the season will treat ARTHUR BARNES. It’s true that HE is SCHOLARLY, but I’ve also heard that they can be AWKWARD. Do you think they’ll find their match? I doubt it if what I heard is true. I heard that [REDACTED] Of course, that’s just speculation. (dusto, 29, est, he/him, no triggers).

Trigger Warnings for Under the Cut: Death

GENERAL

Full name: Arthur Fitzwilliam Barnes

Date of Birth: May 14th, 1785

Zodiac: Taurus

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Joe Keery

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Green

Dominant Hand: Right

Relationship Status: Single

FAMILY

Father: Fitzwilliam Barnes (Deceased)

Mother: Evelyn Barnes (nee Marrow) (Deceased)

Siblings: Allison Barnes, Younger twin sister

BACKGROUND

About The Barnes Family:

Of all things that were important to the Barnes family, there was nothing that came above the sharpening of one’s intellect and discipline. No expense was spared to ensure that the children were given the very best instruction available, not just in Britain, but all across Europe. As a result of this, the two children are well travelled and very well educated, and are now making their first appearance in the Ton since the untimely demise of their parents seven years ago. There are whispers surrounding the circumstances of that tragedy which imply it may not have been an accident at all, but as far as proof goes? Well, no one has ever been able to provide any of that. One can only speculate as to how the twin Barnes’ might react if these whispers reach their ears during their time here.

~ londonhigh-society main

Additional Information:

The Barnes Family were once very well respected and well liked within society, but Arthur's father, Fitzwilliam Barnes, caused many of the other families to look upon them more sourly. He was not shy or quiet about his disdain for the practices of those in the aristocracy, finding that their extravagant spending on frivolous things such as lavish balls, and expensive material items to bolster their estates, to be both foolish and wasteful.

Arthur's mother, on the other hand, was and is still viewed in a fairly positive light within the aristocracy, though her choice in a husband is often remarked upon as being "unfortunate"

It was because of Arthur's mother that the twins were able to appear in the Ton at all, as she convinced their father to allow it, for Allison's sake. Arthur, taking much more after his father in most respects, deeply resented this obligation at first, but accepted back then (similar to why he is here now) so that he could offer support to his sister. He did end up coming around on it a bit more as time wore on, in large part due to the fact that he fell in love. (More on this below)

About Arthur:

A natural student, who prefers the company of books to most people, Arthur isn't hugely fussed about being in society. He's come at the behest of his sister Allison (who is much more excited by the prospect than he is) because there is nothing that he will not do for her.

The last time that the two of them were seen at the ton was seven years ago, prior to the tragic death of their parents in an accident involving a carriage going off of a bridge and into icy waters below.

In their extensive time away, they have been travelling all across Europe continuing their studies. If it were entirely up to him, Arthur would likely have continued on this track, but his sister has grown restless and tired of the constant travel, and dreams of finding a man to settle down with.

Secretly, Arthur wants to find someone to share his life with too, but he doubts that such a person exists who would want the same things out of life that he wants.

He and his sister share ownership of Bridgewater Heights, though the assumption is that when she marries, she will move into the home of her husband.

Arthur knows of secrets involving his family, namely his father, and things that he did prior to his death, which lead him to suspect (as is whispered about often by other members of the aristocracy) that the death of his parents may not have been an accident. This is an additional reason why he had insisted on staying out of Britain for as long as he has, fearing that it may not be safe for him and his sister to be there. However, he hopes that enough time has passed that it should be safe for them now. His sister, however, knows nothing about any of this, as he has tried to protect her by keeping her ignorant of it.

He was in love once, prior to being forced to leave the country in the wake of his parents' death, but he is convinced that the fact that he left without saying a proper goodbye, and the amount of time that has passed will have closed that door forever; something which haunts him and fills him with regret.

In truth, though he is very studious, rational, and factual, Arthur is a romantic at heart, and wants to find love comparable to that of the many stories he secretly loves to read. Though he outwardly appears to have disdain for the Ton in the same way that his father did, in truth, there is a big part of him that loves it and everything it stands for. This often causes him to feel internally conflicted.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

(Note: Some of these may be sent into the main and posted there, but I'm going to include them here as well in case anyone within the group would like a first shot at them)

First Love: Arthur has been in love one time, and it was with a girl that he met during his first foray within society. In one sense, she challenged everything that he thought about the world, coaxing an adventurous spirit out of the withdrawn exterior, but then she was also equally capable of keeping up with him in an intellectual sense as well. He fell in love with her most ardently, and was prepared to declare it, but then his parents passed away, and he had to leave her behind. He is sure that he'll see her again now that he's returning to the Ton, but he's also certain that she will have forgotten all about him and found a husband by now. (FC Suggestions: Lily Collins, Nicola Coughlan, Sophie Turner, Madelaine Petsch, Elizabeth Lail, Sydney Sweeney, Olivia Holt.)

Twin Sister: His best friend, his only remaining family, and the person he cares about more than anyone else in this world, Arthur would do anything for his sister Allison. In fact, that is exactly what has brought him to the Ton, both now, and in the past. He knows that she desires to find love, to attend the balls, and to soak in the entire experience of being in society, and he has come along mainly to offer his support, and be there for her.

Childhood Friend: Though it is likely that this friendship was cut short (the reason for which, there are many possibilities) I would love for Arthur to have had a friend when he was younger who he was immensely fond of. This was likely set up through his mother.

Fellow Scholar: A friend who Arthur met through his time at Oxford, where he studied from the time he was eighteen until he was twenty two. I don't have a lot to say about this one in terms of the specifics, but that just means it can be discussed and decided upon jointly!

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Scholarly, Creative, Intellectual, Romantic

Negative Traits: Nervous, Awkward, Clumsy, Stubborn

Likes: Reading books, Writing, Travelling, Playing Violin, Fencing, Long walks

Dislikes: Social Gatherings, Gossip, Small talk, Being interrupted or disturbed

[skylarmoon71]

Castiel (Supernatural/Grimm) - Short Story - Chapter 6

It’s been about a year since the whole multiverse debacle. 

Diana has promised to avoid any potential spells that might blast you across the galaxy.

More like you threatened her.

For the while she’s keeping her nose out of your business.

It would be a lie to say you don’t miss Castiel. For the first few months it was easy to bury yourself in your work, pretend, but every now and then you’ll walked past the park and catch a couple smiling at each other, or you'll see some angel ornament in a window, or at the mall and your mind would rush back to his face, those eyes, his beautiful wings.

Sometimes it feels like a dream, one you wish you can jump back into, if nothing but to see him again.

Seated at your desk, you look down at your hand, the memory of the ruby string hanging off your pinky.

“Maybe things will change, you never know. We were able to go there, so maybe he can come here. It’s a possibility.”

You knew Diana just wanted to bring you some kind of comfort, but it’s foolish to hold onto that, yet you can’t seem to move on. A part of you still feels like there was a reason you ended up there. Surely you were meant to meet him for a reason other than just to shamelessly gawk at each other.

You ball your fists, closing the file in front of you. There’s no way you can focus on filling out paperwork.

Might as well call it a day.

~The Spice Shop~

“Diana, have you seen the-oh thank you you’re a lifesaver.” 

Rosalee smiled as the bottle of herbs she’d been looking for floated right into her hands. Diana was seated at the table, eyes focused on her text as she nodded.

Monroe walked in from the back room, Kelly right behind him.

“Diana being a nuisance again?” He poked.

“Says the guy that got his but handed to him by a kid last week.”

“He’s a really well trained intern.” Kelly snarked, rotating his shoulder.

“How is life at the FBI, still pining after that quirky tech analyst at Quantico?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m taking her out for dinner this week.” He looked pretty proud of himself. Rosalee and Monroe exchanged a smile just as the bell rang, alerting them that someone had entered the shop.

Diana smiled the moment she saw you.

“(Y/N), you’re back early.”

“Couldn’t focus, so I left a bit early. I’m surprised you’re here Kelly. Got your butt kicked again and came to get some herbs to soothe the pain.”

He sent you a blank look as Diana burst out laughing.

“That’s my cue to leave. I know you're both just jealous because I’m the favorite.”

“Yeah, the favorite pain in the ass.” You quipped.

He ruffled your hair before waving as he existed. No doubt to head back to DC. He’d probably stopped by to see your parents and ultimately came to check in on Rosalee and Monroe. At this point it’s almost a habit for all of you.

When the door closed behind you, Diana sent you a look. You quirk a brow.

“What’s with the look?”

“You’re wearing that expression again.”

“What expression?”

“The sad lovesick expression.”

You just roll your eyes.

“I feel like you say this every other week.”

“Only because you look like that every other week.”

You just shrug it off. You can lie and say that you aren’t in fact lovesick, but even without powers Diana would see through that.

“I’m heading home, just wanted to see Kelly before he left. I’ll see you.”

Monroe and Rosalee send you smiles and the second you’re out the door Diana lets out a heavy sigh.

“This sucks. I really wish I could just zap him back here for her.”

Rosalee looks sympathetic.

“I can’t imagine what she’s going through. “

“I know. I still have a hard time believing you guys actually saw an angel.” Monroe adds.

Diana hums, laying her face in her palm as she tries to think of ways to heal your aching heart.

You’ve learned by now that she’s not someone who gives up easily, that’s why it’s not even surprising when she texts you the following morning with some attachments to dating sites. You laugh.

She’s persistent, you’ll give her that.

“Burkhardt!”

The call from your captain draws your attention. He gestures you into his office and you do so.

“Captain, what’s the case?”

He smiles.

“No case, we finally got you a partner. Hopefully you won’t glare this one away.”

“The last guy kept hitting on me. He’s lucky all he got was a glare.”

You were really close to pushing him into oncoming traffic.

“Well, can’t exactly fault you for that. That was a fumble on my part but I think I’ve finally cracked the code. Kline!”

His yell rings through the precinct and you laugh as you turn, awaiting whoever you’ll be forced to pair up with. The first thing your eyes track is the familiar trench coat, then that signature blue tie.

When your eyes truly connect, it’s almost like that first time, that first introduction, you’re almost convinced that you’re hallucinating because you’ve lost count of how many times you pictured him walking through that door. Yet, this time, it’s not as vague as your daydreams.

This feels real.

“(Y/N) Burkhardt, this is Castiel Kline, he’s new, transferred all the way from Quantico. He’s an exceptional agent from what I’ve read. Try not to kill each other.”

He basically shoves you both out of the office and you stumble. Castiel reaches out, steadying you and the touch, it’s still hard to fathom.

“Is it..really you Castiel?”

He nods, a little smile making its way on his face.

“It’s great to see you again (Y/N).”

You have no words, so you just hug him and he returns it, inhaling deeply as if trying to commit it all to memory. You can’t imagine anything more amazing than being in his arms.

“No fraternizing on the job!!”

The shout from your captain has other officers in the background laughing and you can’t help but do the same. 

[shebeafancyflapjack]

"Depressing af way to end. :(" yes! when the six said it was final i didn't expect THIS. again, especially after 5x06! alison reaffirmed that the ghosts are family! mike and alison love living at button house! julian--JULIAN!--gave a speech about being glad they found each other. and i know selling the house will have them set for life, but not once did they talk about getting jobs after the gatehouse didn't work out??

i feel a bit (ok, a lot) that a very important part of the ghosts' (after)lives were stolen from them. and sure, alison can't live forever. and yes, being a hotel now that lots of people will visit, i'm sure the ghosts are going to occasionally come across someone who can see ghosts. but those people aren't going to LIVE there, let alone going to become a family. and i doubt those people will want to talk to the ghosts--i mean, look at kylie's reaction lol. she doesn't even want to do a concert at button house, let alone stay for holiday. unless someone dies at the hotel (bound to happen) and stays as a ghost (less likely), other than each other, who knows when the ghosts are going to have found family again. and with a living? never, probably.

i just. i knew since before s4 that s5 was probably the end, so by the time they confirmed it was, and by the time i finished s5, i wasn't like, devastated or anything. but the xmas special is, as you said, depressing af. it ruined it for me. it feels OOC and the whole thing with betty was just so irritating, and not even in a funny or humorous way like barclay can be. which is why i've said it's dead to me, i have to ignore it exists as much as possible.

anyway lol

Feel free to rant to me anytime! Putting my further rants under a cut because oh boy.

I keep having to process how I feel about this finale because it's hardly Game of Thrones or Sherlock level bad. But it's also coming off wrapping up Fourteen and Donna's storyline in Doctor Who which was - *chefs kiss* - perfect found family / platonic soulmates ending. So that did set the bar quite high in terms of wholesomeness.

And yeah sadly it failed to meet it, at least in my opinion.

Thing is when people describe it as bittersweet, for me it's so bitter that the sweetness is barely noticeable. And most of it comes down to how much Alison was sidelined and downplayed in her own show, the finale at that. Having Betty be the major character that took up so much time was a huge mistake and took away from the chance of us seeing happy moments between the ghosts and Alison and the baby etc. And as you say, she wasn't even a fun annoying character like Barclay.

I really don't have a problem with Alison and Mike needing to sell and move out, I just think it should have been executed in a far less rushed and melancholy way.

For starters I think they should have had Alison make the decision to leave at the end of S5. But asserting that it has nothing to do with what Julian did, it's purely because they simply can't afford to live there anymore. And for everyone saying the point of the finale is the Ghosts "let her go" as a gift - Julian already stated that it's HER decision and they won't stand in her way. He wasn't begging her to stay as much as asking forgiveness so they didn't part on bad terms. I feel like her needing to be persuaded to leave (which she doesn't even fight them on) almost takes away her agency, in an episode which doesn't allow her to do much as is.

I see a lot of people, including the six idiots, compare it to parents packing their kids up for uni or their own place. Here's the problem - the ghosts are not her parents. And that house is HERS. It was HER dream to turn it into a hotel but she has to give up on it and leave her found family because, ho hum, baby. And there's nothing wrong with motherhood or characters being mums...it's just a trope we are so tired of seeing where everything has to be tied up because Baby! Or people have to move out because Baby! Let's ignore the fact we have a character who emphasised the benefits of raising kids in a community.

I think my problem was that, and clearly this wasn't what the idiots had in mind, I read the ghosts as almost an analogy for those with chronic illnesses or disabilities, things that limit us and often leave us feeling shut in and unable to interact with the world. Alison did things for them at the start purely for alliance of convenience - but then she did them because she chose to, because she loves them and wants to help them the same way you would help someone with disabilities who you love. So the idea of "now I have a baby, that's my priority and I have to leave you" when there are so many other ways they could have worked around that has left me very uncomfortable.

Again, I'll make it clear, I don't think that was their intention at all. But sadly it's why I felt so attached to it. Visiting once or twice a year just doesn't put enough sweetness on to sooth the pain. How about instead paying to rebuild the gate house and they bought that to live close but also have their own space? How about Barclay died and they take his house? Or even just a montage showing us how often Alison visits and happy times bringing Mia, that the ghosts did get to watch her grow, maybe even seeing Alison die and FINALLY give Kitty a proper hug as well as the others!

The coda was sweet but it was far too brief and though I see what they were going for revealing so little to us, it left me feeling cold and like we weren't welcome in on their lives anymore as we're not allowed to see them. We shouldn't have had to listen to Jim on the podcast to know the ghosts would learn to like the hotel. Show don't tell.

*sigh* it is what it is, I just feel like there was so much missed opportunity for it to be something truly amazing but sadly it is always going to be my least favorite and possibly a skip whenever I do a rewatch.

[spookychick78]

Final Girl

Sharing The Night Together

Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: None other than the fact that I’m very aware of how cheesy this song is, but let’s let Michael have his moment.

Word Count: 1,405

The morning light washed over their bodies, bringing them warmth in its glow. They were still tangled from the night before, her arm draped over his still bare chest and his leg was between hers. The brightness began to make her stir. She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful. Seeing him in the light was truly magical, she had never seen a more beautiful man. She briefly wondered why it was he ever felt the need to cover himself. He was a work of art. If she had it her way he would never wear a mask again, though she loved him regardless. She gently moved a piece of his hair away from his eyes, she wanted a clear picture to remember in case he hid himself from her again. He didn't react. Normally he would startle at her touch and tense up, but he stayed fast asleep. She knew he was truly at peace with her. It made her happy.

She carefully lifted herself out of bed. She felt him grab her hand before she was fully out, his sleepy eyes looking at her in question.

"I'm not leaving, I promise, I'll be back," she whispered.

She leaned down and placed a kiss to his lips. He held her there, hoping the feeling would linger when she left the room. She pulled away, marveling at the way a smile looked on his face. He released his grip and watched, dazed, as she draped one of the curtains over her bare shoulders and glided out of the room. He placed his hands behind his head and let out a contented sigh before he drifted off again.

He was in a world of bliss, one he didn't know existed. He opened his eyes and the room had changed. There were sheets covering him instead of curtains, those were on the windows and they weren't old and withered. They were new. The walls had paint on them and it wasn't peeling. The wood looked as if it hadn't aged a day. He sat up and looked around. The house was no longer empty, it was filled with décor and light. He stood up and went to the window to pull back the curtains and look outside. The day was still, save a gentle breeze he could see that was blowing the orange and red leaves through the air. She was out there, enjoying the sun on her face. She wasn't in her worn out jacket, she wore new clothes, a dress. It was splayed out in the grass, delicately draped over her legs. Her face was as clear and content as it had been the first time he had ever seen her. As though she had never endured any trials and tribulations a day in her life.

She caught him staring and flashed that smile he was so addicted to. He felt that strange feeling in his stomach he used to be so bothered by, but allowed it to spread within him. It made him want to go to her. He walked down the hallway that was decorated with pictures. They were in them together, happy. It was odd to see himself look so normal. He even had a smile on his face. The front of the house was just as wondrous as the bedroom had been. Furniture was tastefully placed in various areas, flowers were on the table, the windows were open to let the autumn air in. This was definitely her work.

He walked through the open front door into the inviting weather. It was just warm enough to enjoy without a coat. It was a perfect day. Almost as beautiful as she was, but for Michael, nothing could ever compare to her. He walked over to where she sat and allowed himself without a second thought to sit beside her. He made note of the lack of hesitation he had, it was pleasant without it there.

"Hey you," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, "I thought you'd never wake up."

That made him wonder. Had his life before really just been a bad dream? Could it be that this world he was in with her was reality? He doubted it, but wouldn't wish it away if his life depended on it. To sit there with her and feel truly content, no hunger, no thirst for death. It couldn't be real, not for him. Yet, there he was in the grass with her, unmasked, his own body clothed in normalcy.

He let his fingers run through her hair, it felt soft and freshly cleaned. The breeze surrounded him in the sweet perfume she wore. To see her and feel her like that, like she had been before was special. He would have liked to think she was that happy because of him and whatever life it was they were living here. That he had been the one to make her smile in such a way that suggested their life was perfection. The way she was looking at him implied maybe he wasn't wrong, maybe he was the reason.

"Something on your mind?" She asked.

For once, nothing was. Just her. Without hesitation, he kissed her. His hand rested gently on her neck as his thumb traced her jawline. Her lips curved into a smile against his and he took his opportunity to deepen it. He let his tongue explore hers and he realized he would never truly get enough of her. There would always be more to discover. He pulled her on top of him so he could feel her wrap her legs around him once more. Her hands cupped his face as the sound of her soft giggles filled his head. He wondered how he had gone his whole life without this and how it had so quickly become something he couldn't live without. There would never come a time he wouldn't crave her arms around him and her lips against his. It would most definitely be problematic as most addictions are, but if they could stay like this, he didn't care. He would let her be his heroin.

His hand fell to her leg, inching up the exposed skin to push the hem of her dress up further. He grabbed a handful of her thigh and let his grip tighten. He relished in the soft gasp she let out against his lips.

"Michael," she whispered as his hand slipped under her clothing, "we haven't even had breakfast yet."

He had never been more hungry for something in his life. He only grabbed her tighter in response and she didn't deny him. Their night together had awakened something in himself that he wasn't finished exploring. Her body was a book he couldn't put down, each page he turned only made him want more. Each move she made was something new to learn, a new chapter in this story between the two of them.

The day passed as he wanted it to, each second was spent with her in his arms and the autumn air wrapped around their bodies. As night began to fall, they made their way into their home. The simplicity of it all was so new to him, but he studied every moment. She locked the doors, turned on a few lights and motioned for him as she walked to their bedroom. The soft glow of a lamp cast her shadow on the wall as she changed into a nightgown. He gazed at her from the bed as she stood in front of a mirror and brushed her hair. He stood up and went over to her, she watched him from the reflection and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He nestled his face into her neck.

"What has gotten into you today?" She asked as he kissed up her exposed skin.

He stopped and met her gaze through the mirror. The dim light accentuated her soft features and that sleepy look in her eyes warmed his heart.

"It's always been you," he replied.

He had spoken without even realizing he had done it. His smile faded. He knew he was dreaming.

[honorhearted]

Like some sylph that only existed in dream, Beth slipped away from Ben's tent when the morning hour was at its darkest. She does not want his honour stained nor her own called into question. His Excellency has the eyes of eagles and hears almost all that happens through camp, however innocent those things might be. But before she does, she takes a moment to leave a bundle in the spot where she'd lain beside him. A new shirt sewn by hand. A replacement for his that has seen better days, and which she firmly intends to thieve away when she leaves. Almost snowy white, it isn't marred by musket ball nor his blood. Neither his tears nor daily wear. A new journal and quill for ease of convenience to make his maps and notes, a confessional of sorts. A book of psalms that he may keep God before him always; their beliefs might conflict in practice and there are things she knows she must needs repent at her earliest convenience, but she knows the Almighty is still woven through Ben, whatever doubts he might have. And if the matter is dire? He can use the pages as wadding. The final gift she leaves him is slightly more indulgent, something sweet for his nature and nourishment. A pepper cake to break his fast upon that will pair with his morning tea. She'd baked it the day before when the women gathered to make meals for the soldiers, each bit of ingredient bartered for or paid a king's wage outright. She leans down to brush a kiss across his slumbering brow.

@brooklynislandgirl

Upon waking, the first thing Benjamin was stricken by was how cold his bed felt without Beth's presence -- without her, pressed there beside him, their limbs entangled in the fervor of never wishing to part. Disappointed, his palm skimmed across the empty space, then he nudged his face down into the bedding with a forlorn sort of insistence, hoping for her scent -- a scant hint that their night hadn't been a figment of his imagination. And dream, he did. Often and vividly.

Upon further inspection, Benjamin realized there was a small bundle perched near the edge of his bed. Eyes opening more fully, he rose with groggy protest, then pulled the mystery items into his lap.

He first discovered the shirt. Though perhaps simple to some, new garments of any kind were a rarity in camp, and running his fingers along the fabric -- all hand-sewn, from what he could tell -- with a certain reverence, the corner of his mouth quirked and his heart danced in his chest. Beth was the type who wanted for nothing, and yet was painfully empathetic and in touch with those around her; with what they needed, and why.

Brushing his fingertips over the pepper cake (an unexpected and rare surprise, indeed), Benjamin found himself grinning as he realized he would have to hide this treat from Caleb. Or perhaps he would even share it, were he to fall prey to a spell of generosity.

The journal, quill, and book of psalms proved in equal measure how much she paid attention; not just what was visible to the eye, but what laid within his very heart and soul. Despite Benjamin's greatest attempts to cover his heart, to bury it and keep it well-hidden from pain and adversity, Beth had wielded a spade and tended to that dead earth until it swelled and burst into bloom. He could never hide from her -- not even if he tried.

Moved to the point dizziness, Benjamin took his new journal and quill and set to work on writing a fervent thank you. With a slightly unsteady hand, he wrote:

Little Bird,

I know neither of us are keen on outright appreciation, but I felt compelled to write you regardless. W.ar has stolen many delights from my grasp, and yet I can at least take comfort in the fact it hasn't robbed me of you.

These gifts, though absolutely nothing I would otherwise demand, give me a certain pleasure because I know they come from your heart. Allow me to return the favor by giving you mine. I am a man of few words, but I pray that the 'three most important' will suffice.

Most Humbly and Devotedly Yours,

B.T.

P.S. Perhaps later this evening, you would do me the honor of sharing this pepper cake? In fact, I feel compelled to demand it. There is no greater gift than being in your presence.

Reading and re-reading his clumsy attempts at affection, Benjamin lightly tugged his loosened ribbon from his hair, then fastened the parchment closed with a bow. He'd be certain to drop this letter off before anyone became wise.

[ae-neon]

The House of Mirrors

Chapter 4

Rhys had come home just before dawn. He’d have gone to their shared inner city apartment, but thought to pre-emptively avoid Cassian and Mor’s early morning chatter. So he’d come back to the house where his mother sometimes stayed. Traces of her existing in the spice stained food containers and the warm, heavy blanket on his bed.

He’d only just had the energy to shower before he fell into dreams of lying on his back in an open grassy field.

Seren, his sister, was there too, giggling as they watched the huge colourful kites move against the grey sky.

He turned to look at her, dream grasping at the wisps of memory but a sudden wind blew her black curls into her face. Still, he could hear her laughing and felt her little hand grab his, so real it had to be true.

Sometimes the dreams hurt, had him waking with wet eyes and a sore throat. But sometimes they filled his heart with warmth. And this time he woke around noon with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

I hear the steppes are really beautiful this time of year

The memory was so faint it took him a second to remember where he’d heard the words. Such a simple thing and yet it had led him back to those autumn holidays with his sister. A reminder of what he’d had instead of the ache of what might have been.

He glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table and made up his mind to get brunch at Rita’s, knowing they’d have a table for him no matter how full it might be.

There was a lot of work ahead of him but now that he finally had his foot in the door with the Archerons, the game could really begin.

The leak to Amren would keep the Hybernians low for a few months at best but the old man had never been the sentimental type so even threatening his nephews wouldn’t stop him for long.

Rhys’ decision to go for TST, Mr Archeron’s Three Ships Trading, had little to do with profit. In fact, he was almost doing the family a favour with what he’d offered.

Rather, it was about planting his feet in the faction the old families inhibited and having the Scythians on his side would tell the others – Raskan, Bharati and the Xianese – that he didn’t plan to push them out or replace them with Illyrians.

Or to gentrify their neighbourhoods the way his old man might have. His paternal lineage may have acted as an advantage in the upper echelons but on the street level it only served to cast doubt in his direction.

The move to entrench himself in the old faction was a little risky, would push Keir to attempt branching out again. Though this time he didn’t have a daughter to barter. Still, his uncle would almost certainly move to form some sort of alliance, the question was: with who?

~

Nesta collapsed onto the bed in her suite in the Pichano Maria.

The Saturday morning service at the Reverend Mother’s Hearth temple had always been her preferred of the daily services. But now, she was at the centre of attention and scores of familiar faces were falling over themselves to offer prayer and condolences.

Nesta didn’t want to hear how sorry they were that Tomas was dead. Why should they be? She wasn't. She wanted to go clubbing with her friends and go to the movies with her sisters, she wanted to wear her favourite jeans and a pair of 4inch Pucci pumps, she wanted to laugh and scream and cry.

She’d been the sole heir to Tomas’ wealth – a point against her in the eyes of everyone – but had quickly and publicly signed off large checks and overseas properties to his remaining family.

She’d kept the house, her house, though mourning customs meant she’d had to leave their shared space six months after his death until another six months passed.

Nesta closed her eyes and remembered asking him about it, teary eyed and angry, if the suite belonged to a mistress. The memory made an unexpected laughter bubble out of her. Of the problems they’d had, she should have been glad he might place his attention elsewhere, that she might share the burden.

But Tomas had belonged to her, all of him; his love and money and violence. He’d never so much as looked at anyone else.

Maybe that was what she missed; the idea of love, the shadow of someone next to her rather than the man himself.

The thought stoked a warmth in her gut, a want to touch and be touched but Nesta was too tired to move. Too tired to even rip off the stupid black dress that marked her a prisoner of death. The reminder that she had also belonged to Tomas.

She hated playing the part, laying herself bare to pity and scrutiny but she did it anyway. She had always done what she needed to earn her mother’s mercy.

Her phone rang and Nesta answered without opening her eyes because Elain was the only one who ever called.

But it was not Elain’s voice that answered.

“I’m on my way to Rita’s. Meet me there.”

The call ended and Nesta lay still for a moment, a little bit of anxiety sparking to life in her stomach.

Rita’s was public but not the sort of public the temple was. Those who recognised her, those who had known Tomas, would know better than to offer sympathies and wouldn’t mean them even if they did.

She sat up, glanced down at her black dress and flat shoes, then glanced at the door to the walk in closet. Maybe, just once, she could do what she wanted instead.

~

Rhys wasn’t surprised to spot Amren standing on the wide pavement outside of Rita’s as he parked on the opposite end of the busy, four lane street.

She was older, but aside from the few grey hairs in her black bob and the lines around her mouth it was almost impossible to tell. She’d been made district attorney at a historic 41 and garnered a ruthless reputation in the 4 years since.

It wasn’t uncommon to spot a bigwig at the two-story eatery that took up the corner of Carver and 7th, especially since it sat perfectly in between the old business and entertainment districts.

The darkened windows made it look more like a pub from the outside but those in the know knew it was an establishment frequented by a morally diverse but financially exclusive set of citizens.

He was, however, shocked to realise that the woman standing with her was Nesta Archeron. She wore sunglasses so it took him a moment but, once he crossed he was sure.

Her golden brown hair was parted neatly down the middle and pulled into a tight bun at her nape. She wore a deep blue dress, still somewhat modest by most standards, but fitted against the shape of her body and with a off shoulder neckline.

He shouldn’t have gone over.

Especially with how angry Amren looked – no doubt her office had suddenly gone into a frenzy at the arrival of the leaks. It wasn’t smart to antagonise her but he didn’t like the sudden feeling that he was being equally as reckless by underestimating Nesta.

How did they know each other? What were they talking about? Why had he had Mor look into Feyre and even later added Tomas but not mentioned the one person they had in common?

So he walked up to them, “Ladies, pleasure seeing you here.” They both turned to look at him and he offered a pleasant smile.

“I don’t have time, not today.” Amren greeted dryly while Nesta offered a little incline of her head. Amren’s eyes cut from him to Nesta, “Should I be surprised you know him?”

“He has business with my father. And I’ve only been back in the city for three days so I’d rather not be accused of anything just yet.” Nesta said, then added, “Are you heading back to the office? Vanessa sounded frantic.”

There were few people who might get away with treating Rhys like he wasn’t there. Amren had always been one of them, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about his future sister-in-law being added to the list.

Amren cursed, “Yes, but I do need to speak to you.” She said to Nesta but glanced at Rhys, irritated by his proximity, “Its important. You’re a part of all of this whether you like it or not. Sticking that clever little head of yours in the sand isn’t helping anyone.”

“I was mourning my husband, not sipping cocktails in Adriata.”

“Good riddance. I’d even offer a ‘job well done' if I thought you did it.” Amren almost laughed, the lines around her mouth deepening as she grinned, “Know you’re better off for it, and richer too.”

She was moving before she finished speaking, turning to hail a taxi, “My office, Monday, or I’ll drag you out of the house myself.”

“You keep some interesting company.” Rhys said, turning to face Nesta fully. That neckline-

“You didn’t seem like a stranger either.”

At his height, Rhys met her grey eyes over the rim of her sleek sunglasses. “She was a friend of my father’s. He was more her mentor really. I’ve known her almost all my life.”

A shadow passed over Nesta's face before she looked away, down the street to where Amren had disappeared, “She was mine; my mentor. As brief as it was, I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for not following through.”

His mind worked to pick apart everything he’d just learnt, “Didn’t take you for a law student.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her pink mouth, “No? Just a professional widow?”

“And occasional matchmaker.”

“Side hustle of the century. I’m getting paid in Dosha leftovers.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. If your mother offered me a pie I’m almost certain she could get me to do whatever she wanted.”

A huffed laugh escaped them both, “I’ll be sure to let her know. A Dosha for you, Arshok for Graysen and the plumbing will never cost her another cent.”

Rhys tucked his hands into his pockets and, as usual, took the opportunity circumstance had presented, “Have you had lunch? It looked like Amren was called away before you could go in.”

She touched at her glasses, “I shouldn’t be seen like this. And not...not with you. Not before things are settled.”

“Then somewhere else? Somewhere I promise no one will recognise you.”

Nesta hesitated and Rhys resisted the urge to reach out and hold her there while he thought of something that might persuade her, “It would be a waste of that dress to just go home.”

Nesta’s stormy grey eyes looked up past the rim of her glasses once again and locked onto his, assessing. And for a second, he remembered his dream; the colour of the autumn skies above Illyria.

“I can leave my car here for now.” she glanced back at where she’d parked then at him, “Where to?”