#keeping me humble and putting me on the right path

[ryescapades-archived]

*ੈ‧₊༺ "SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM,"

⤷ submission for @pixelcafe-network 's Secret Santa event !

— vice-captain hoshina seems to frequent the infirmary lately... perhaps it has something to do with the division's beloved medic.

characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x medic!reader contents: fluff, some injuries and blood, one(1) suggestive line but it’s for the plot, smooching, kind of getting together, slight spoilers for b side manga, inaccurate manga timeline wc ~ 1.8k

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites happy holidays from me, your secret santa ! 🎄 not christmas-themed but i hope you can still enjoy this humble gift i’ve prepared for you (see the end of this for more messages) <3

Remembering and differentiating people’s faces is usually something that comes naturally to people.

Be it your distant, distant relative, or a newly appointed work colleague, or even a fellow customer at a cafe you love. It’s easy enough to memorise each and every one of them, given that you’ve seen them a few times consecutively, of course.

Then again, it comes with the job to have a good memory anyway. Lots of scientific and biological names to be remembered, health conditions and symptoms to be identified, patients you constantly need to keep your eyes on. You have them all etched inside your mind.

There’s also that other circumstance, where forgetting someone’s face is as easy as brushing away a speck of dust from your clothes. People come, and people go. Not everyone that you’ve come across will stay in your life, and not every one of them will become a significant part of it either.

There is one thing, however, that you have stumbled upon, not knowing that it will become both of those things. Or rather, one person.

The first time you saw him was at the hospital right after the kaiju emergence at Ome city back when you were still a measly apprentice to a senior medic from the Third Division. Tasked to do one of his checkups, you’d overheard his conversation with your captain right before she left the ward.

His reaction baffled you, to say the least. Who in the world would reject a position offered by the Captain Ashiro Mina herself? After a thorough yet uneventful inspection on his condition, he was deemed to be discharged from the hospital a few days after, and along with that his presence from your mind.

Or so you thought.

The second time you saw him was a bit more coincidental. Months after that, when you were freshly appointed as one of the Third Division’s operational medics, you had accidentally crossed paths with him on the way to Captain Ashiro’s office, unaware that you were in the face of your soon-to-be Vice-Captain.

You didn’t know how, or why, but for some astronomical reason you’d remembered who he was. There were lots of people you’d bumped into in the past, people you’d medically treated, and people with even worse haircut (in your defense, that was only a mere observation on your part); you had no trouble putting them to the rear end of your mind as you knew they were nothing more than encounters by chance.

Aside from the fact that he’d rejected your captain’s offer, you’d wondered if there was something else about him from that first time that had rewired the very foundation of your brain chemistry to make you remember him as clearly and easily as memorizing the back of your own hand, even when you’d only seen him once before in your entire lifetime.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoshina Soshiro thought the same thing about you.

What is it about you, Hoshina had once mused. What made you so… unforgettable? Your presence had been lingering in the back of his mind from the moment you first laid your hand on him. After you’d left his ward months ago, the image of you has been foggy and indistinctive, almost haunting for him to deal with. And now that he had you in front of his eyes again, he was more than determined to know more about you.

The two of you hit it off then. One friendly conversation turned two, turned weekly, turned daily. Lingering touches, longing gazes, secret smiles, flirty quips. And the most unambiguous of all; the time spent together in the medic bay at any hour of the day.

It’s becoming a routine at this point for the Third Division members to see their second-in-command walking through the doorway of the infirmary with an injury or the other, some of them severe and some were barely considered a prick. The officers have suspected something, of course. But none of them are bold enough (yet) to confront nor pull the topic out in the open.

And so do you and Hoshina himself.

Though you’re totally aware it’s only a matter of time before one of you finally breaches the blurring line between platonic and romantic. Ironically enough, Hoshina with all his foxy eyed glory, seems to be the one to (not so) blindly step over the said line, all too keen on wiping it off like a silly drawing on a sandy shore.

“Hey there. Ya seem happy to see me,”

You grit your teeth at the cheery greeting, irritation piling over the concern and worry, overstacked by the fear wrecking through your body. Taking a deep breath to gather yourself, you step to the side to let the officers carry the battered body of the Vice-Captain to sit on a nearby bed. Soon enough, they walk themselves out with a respective nod to their superiors, leaving you in the still silence of the infirmary.

In your peripheral, Captain Ashiro stands beside the door with her arms crossed, a calculated look stuck on her youthful face before she straightens up, calling out to your name. “I’m leaving them in your care. I’ll be back in a few though,” Confused, you’re about to ask about what she meant when a mass of white fur enters your vision.

Bakko is staying here for a while then, you realize just as the Captain, too, makes her exit to the door. You let the feline kaiju make himself at home in the infirmary as you return to the task at hand; treating Hoshina.

Your next course of action proceeds swiftly and methodically; assembling the medical supplies and equipment, assessing the injuries, disinfecting the wounds and dressing them accordingly. All the while trying not to squirm under his obnoxious gaze.

“You were never this quiet before,” Hoshina breaks the silence, grimacing slightly as you’re currently treating one of his more severe wounds, one that requires stitching.

Your forehead creases slightly, “What do you want me to say?” You question, both in exasperation and incredulity. The swordsman lifts his good shoulder in a little shrug. “I dunno. Anythin’,”

“You’re stupid,”

Hoshina’s lips twitch slightly, “Mhm,”

“And reckless,”

A small smile tugs on his face next, “Yeah?” Slowly, and breathily.

“And - and… you weren’t being careful enough,” Your bloody hand shakes, the scissors you’re holding barely cutting away the remaining thread after you’d successfully managed to stitch his wound up. “Okonogi already said it was a daikaiju and you still insisted on fighting it alone. Who the hell does that?” You seethe.

One of his hands moves to hold yours, halting you just as you'd turned back from putting your equipment away. “You mad at me, sweetheart?” His nonchalant drawl causes you to snap. “I thought you were going to die, Soshiro. Of course I was mad!”

Suddenly there’s a quiet growl rumbling from the corner of the room, and the both of you immediately go silent. You look to the side to see Bakko with his mouth pulled into a menacing snarl, eyeing the other slumbering patients as if to remind you that you’re not the only ones in the room.

You huff, slightly embarrassed at being chastised in your own work space. By a kaiju, of all things.

Hoshina gruffly snickers before glancing at the feline, “He’s not Captain Ashiro’s companion for nothin’, huh? Think he can help around in the infirmary?” He jests.

You chuckle weakly, nodding a little at his injuries. “What, do you want him to lick it all better?”

It was supposed to be a joke, a casual inquiry made to lighten the mood, but Hoshina seems to think otherwise. With his bleary eyes, he murmurs, “I want you to lick it all better,”

Your breath stutters, the heart in your chest skipping a beat or two. Or maybe three? You can’t really seem to figure it out when all you know is that the blood pumping in your veins feels like you’re running a goddamn marathon around the division base.

Your body heats up at the way Hoshina’s gaze remains focused on you, those irises seeping with such intensity and passion, finely rich like wine and sangria. There’s a pull so magnetic, the minimal space where you’re starting to share breaths with him is charged with the tension between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his mouth for one quick second. A mere glance, shy and timid. And the next thing you know, you and Hoshina become a clashing of lips, wandering hands and blissful sighs.

Like a collision between two worlds; the connection feels intensely mind-blowing, like a surge of adrenaline that has you forgetting about everything else aside from feeling him, tasting him, consuming him. Your fingertips tingle from where you’re cradling his face in your hands, and electric zaps up your spine from where his hands are gripping you by your hips.

Your lips slide against his in a feverish dance, his tongue diving in to explore each and every crevice of your mouth. Another pleased sigh escapes from you when he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the skin with a gentle suck right after. Hoshina hums against your mouth, pulling you to stand even closer between his legs but a pained groan from him then makes you draw back, the desire to continue ravishing each other now replaced with a budding sense of concern.

“You’re pulling on the stitches,” you mutter, fingers lightly prodding at his medically patched skin. Hoshina shakes his head slightly and drops it to rest on your shoulder as he grunts under his breath, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

You falter, a furious blush creeping up to your cheeks at his statement. ‘Why didn’t you do it sooner, then?’ You’d wanted to ask but just as he raises his head, you catch sight of the bloody handprints on both of his cheeks. You gasp in surprise, “Soshiro, you’re—”

You reach up to hold his face, though when you see your own hands stained with the blood from his wounds, a small laugh of realisation comes out of you. Hoshina snorts a little when he deduces the same thing, the room now filled with your combined giggles.

“All the more reason to stay here longer and get myself cleaned up, hm?” He smirks and leans back with his arms perched on the bed. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, staring not-so-subtly at his slacked figure.

More work for you to do… not like you’re complaining anyway because he does not have any business looking so sinfully good with all those muscles and bare skin all roughed up and bloodied like that.

You inwardly shake your head to disperse the thought. Throwing him an eye roll, you scold him for moving around too much in case his injuries get worse, and that he should know better than to stay out of commission for longer than necessary considering his importance in the division.

Deep down, though, you’re glad that Hoshina Soshiro is there with you in more ways than one, holding your hand as you trudge through this new relationship blossoming between you two.

He stays, and he is significant. Forever will be in your lovesick little heart.

taglist open!

bakko is just there like 👁️👄👁️

💌 ; kaija my dear i’m so happy that i get to know you through the cafe network <3 really enjoyed all the convos we’ve had in the kn8 channel and i appreciate u sm !! you’re so sweet and so delightful to talk to and i thought that you are just the perfect person to be soshiro’s favorite doctor / nurse ^^ you seem like the type who'd be good at taking care of people, especially your loved ones. bet he goes to the infirmary a lot just to see u hehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) anyway, i hope 2024 has been nice to you. i wish you all the good things in the world, and that 2025 will be a better and sweeter year for you, love 💜

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[helslastangel]

I'm back bxtches

Random Observations #9

Y'all still need the disclaimer or will reason prevail?

🦂 Scorpio Mars are POWERHOUSES in my not-so-humble opinion. If you are prone to procrastination, especially in your career or as an entrepreneur, Aries Mars might hype you up but a Scorpio Mars (esp in 10H) is gonna make damn sure you finish your to-do list.

I had a friend with this placement and she literally bribed me with weed to come to her house, then she took my phone and house keys and made me sit and finish designing my business cards and send them to Vistaprint before she'd give my damn keys back. Made over $5K USD from my next few clients though so I wasn't even mad about it lol

🦀 I don't care what the astrology girls like to say - my observations of Cancer moons is that they are FORGIVING AF. Like it takes a lot for a Cancer moon to be really done with you and chances are you're more wrong than they are.

Cancer moons come off as manipulative to a lot of people. But when you actually dig below the surface, you'll notice this common thread where people who aren't good at seeing other people's points of view unless they need something immediately project that attitude onto people who genuinely give a shit.

Obviously there are evil Cancer moons and they're extra terrifying for the above reason, but they're the minority and the slander is unnecessary imo. The people who have literally put up with my WORST behavior the longest and genuinely dropped it after a good open conversation were all Cancer moons.

👬 Which leads me to another interesting astro trope I'd like to kick over right about now. Gemini moons. Love them but in my experience they are usually what people think Cancer moons are. Gemini moons, from my observation, don't soak up as much, if any, of other peoples' energies. They're gonna keep it moving emotionally regardless of how you wanna be in the moment. That means they can easily smile with you for years if that's the path of least resistance, but that does NOT mean they particularly like, care about or think highly of you at all. They MIGHT, but you will NOT know unless they want you to know or you somehow trigger them enough to rip the black tape off the redacted parts of their mental file on you.

If you're someone who is used to everything being totally transparent and straightforward, you're in for a wild ride with a Gemini moon in your life. I've had quite a few as friends or coworkers, etc., and I promise without fail there always came the day where I ended up wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, feet up on my desk, twiddling my thumbs listening to the 11-minute voice note from the latest Gemini moon in my life. Pretty much telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what they thought of me, where I should go, why, and how happy they would be to direct me there personally.

As a Capricorn moon, I never have the kind of reaction they'd like to this but it's always interesting to see the abrupt change as they can literally seem perfectly cool 3 minutes before the other twin takes over. I don't even think it's a good or bad thing, just how it goes.

Cancer moons seem this way but chances are you chose to ignore the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS THAT SOMETHING (probably everything) was wrong, lol. Cancer moons can't hide their feelings for shit (reason #101 why I love them; it's easier for me to fix a problem if i can quickly see there is one 😂).

🦁 Let's change tracks and talk about Leo mercuries for a minute. Y'all get your inside and outside voices mixed up a LOT, lol. Every Leo mercury I know had trouble speaking quietly in quiet-appropriate situations but then catch them outside trying to get their friends attention at the other side of the street and suddenly it's like Tom got their tongue and tossed it to Jerry. Can barely get a sound out. Why is that? I know it wouldn't be all Leo mercuries but for those who experience this, please tell me what it is, I'm genuinely curious lol. As a Libra mercury I kinda have a similar problem. On another note, I've noticed that Leo mercuries can be highly persuasive people even if solely because of the amount of power and confidence they put behind the things they say.

My ex-husband has Leo Mercury at 24° (Pisces degree) and I promise you that man could make you believe anything against your will 😂 One time he was trying to get out of having to go to a friend's event and rather than just decline like a normal person, he crafted this masterpiece of an excuse that somehow involved me needing his attention (I had been on the couch under his arm half the day so no lol) but the way he spoke on the phone?

I swear to God even I caught myself nodding along all like "yeah, yes I did feel a bit neglected today and wanted more time with babe"... 😂😂😂 like NO TF I DID NOT FEEL NEGLECTED AT ALL but I got second-hand convinced lol. And yes he was loud when I or his friends were 12 inches away but couldn't raise his voice for shit to order through the drive-thru at McDonald's lol it was cute, though, I'd do the yelling into the intercom thing 😂

🐟 Lemme say this about Pisces suns - you are very underrated, from my observations. I've noticed Pisces suns in particular struggle with one of two major issues when it comes to others' perceptions of them - either people seem compelled to minimize/infantilize their contributions and achievements, or people fail to notice they exist altogether (or forget about them easily). I've always held my Pisces sun friends close for as long as I could and hyped them up because nearly every Pisces sun I've met has been incredibly talented and usually creative in some way. I'm talking genius levels of ability in some area that goes completely overlooked or undervalued by the majority of people in their circles.

These are the people who you vaguely notice as the cool server, hot bartender, friendly delivery guy, helpful sales associate, only for you to run into them somewhere else and you find out they run a whole personal training business or play 6 instruments perfectly and give lessons to kids, or taught themselves professional photography and have a camera in their bedroom worth more than your savings account. I've met so many Pisces suns who seemed to be one way and then there were so many layers to them that it was like reading an interactive novel.

That's what was on my mind for now, drop your favorite placement from your own chart in the comments, I'll compile them for random observations #10 😘

[thedeadestartist]

To escape a time loop, the witch demands virgin blood. And well, everyone thinks they know who the virgin of the group is. And they're wrong – or are they?

✨｡⁠♡*⁠～⁠✧⁠*～⁠♡⁠｡⁠✨

“Are you completely sure they are to be trusted, Merlin? What if the witch goes back on their word!” Arthur exclaimed.

He was frustrated. But so too were the knights and Merlin. They had been wandering a neverending woodland path for what had felt like hours. After all, why would they give in to a witch’s demands before exhausting every option?

“No, Arthur!” Merlin snapped. “I am not sure we can trust them at all, but what other option do we have at this point?”

Merlin was the first to notice that they’d been looping the same path several times over, before any of the knights. This sort of magic was something he had seen before, and he knew it was the type of curse that was near impossible to break from inside the incantation area. In his mind, the witch’s words repeated endlessly.

When the knights had come across the witch, they were simply sitting by a humble campfire, watching a pot of water with herbs and leaves boil over. Of course, Gwaine had been desperate enough to accept a drink from this total stranger. And after just one sip, the witch had risen to their feet and laughed – a sound so shrill and chilling.

“And thus, thou, King of Camelot and thyne beloved knights of the round table are cursed to wander these woods for the rest of time. The world shall continue on without thee as thy kingdom crumbles. But do not despair, men of the sword. Lest you bring me 9 drops of a virgin’s blood, I shall grant thee freedom once more.”

“Alright, bickering will get us nowhere!” Leon interrupted. “Even if we were to do what the witch asks, where are we going to find a virgin in these woods if it simply keeps repeating itself?”

Percival quickly quipped, “Well, what about one of us?”

An abrupt silence descended upon the men as they exchanged glances.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never seen a woman within five feet of Merlin,” Elyan spoke.

The rest of the knights turned their faces towards Merlin.

Arthur smirked.

“Well go on then, Merlin. If you really think we can trust the witch, then go ahead. 8 drops of blood is barely much of a sacrifice.”

Merlin grit his teeth. It was true that he had never been… intimate with any of the ladies he had admired. But he had a feeling deep down that something was wrong. Was it because he had the blood of a sorcerer? Would it potentially backfire – put them in danger?

As he racked his brain, he heard the familiar metallic rush of a sword being drawn.

“Gwaine, what do you think you’re doing?” Arthur said firmly, as Gwaine drew his sword.

“What, he needs a blade if he’s gonna bleed, right?”

“And you think a sword is a good idea? What if he accidentally impaled himself?” Arthur barked.

The king quickly drew his dagger and handed it very carefully into the hands of his servant. Gwaine rolled his eyes and put his sword away.

“Here, Merlin,” Arthur spoke. His words were ever so slightly more gentle than his usual biting tone.

Merlin raced through his thoughts to try and come up with an excuse. The creeping feeling that this was wrong refused to subside.

Finally he blurted, “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Oh come on, Merlin,” scoffed Gwaine. “It’s not like we’re asking you to cut off your entire arm.”

Before Merlin could think of a good excuse, the words slipped from his lips:

“I can’t be the one to do it… because I’m not a virgin.”

There was a beat.

Then, before anyone could react, Gwaine had swiftly taken Arthur’s dagger and lightly swiped Merlin’s arm.

“Ow, Gwaine!” Merlin huffed, but it was too late.

Small red beads of blood dripped quickly from the sorcerer's arm to the forest floor. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Nine. The sky above them whirled and hissed, darkening in only a few seconds.

And then, the witch’s voice boomed from all sides.

“This is not the virgin blood I seek. Do not deceive me again, lest thou art willing to suffer the consequence.”

“Huh, guess he wasn’t lying,” Gwaine shrugged.

If anyone had seen Arthur’s face as the witch had spoken, they may have noticed the slight snarl of his lips, the quick flush of his face. But it soon was gone and replaced with raging concern. Tearing some cloth from his cape, the King skillfully wrapped the wound on Merlin’s arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly. A little too quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Merlin quivered.

Perhaps if it were any other situation, he may have had his suspicions about Arthur’s tender touches. The way his king so swiftly and gently cleaned up the wound as best he could. But his mind was worrying about something else.

He was close to connecting the dots, he was sure. Virgin blood. He was a virgin, but obviously it hadn't worked. What did the witch mean by virgin if not a person who had not had sex? Virgin - what did that word mean? Pure? Untainted?

As Merlin fretted in silence and Arthur tended to him, Leon had quietly taken the dagger. And without warning—

“Ow! Okay, that actually really hurt!” Gwaine yelped.

The others turned quickly to him and watched as blood rolled down his palm and rolled off onto the forest floor.

And then, for Merlin, it clicked. Virgin blood – he had read about it before. Dark magic required ritual blood. And the most powerful of spells required blood that had never been used in magic before. And after so many escapades with numerous magic users, of course, Merlin’s blood had been used in magic before!

Once more, the sky hissed and darkened and the witch’s voice filled the forest.

“The deal is fulfilled, oh King of Camelot. Thou and thy company may leave this place freely.”

“Holy shit, Gwaine’s a vir–”

But before Elyan could finish his exclamation, the forest fell away and the men found themselves stirring awake by the witch’s camp fire.

Arthur was the first to scramble to his feet and brandish his sword at the woods surrounding them, his knights quick behind.

“Show yourself!” he demanded.

“It's too late,” Merlin said, simply, checking his arm – still wrapped up in Arthur's makeshift cloth bandage. “The witch would be long gone by now. That sort of spell is one you cast to get as far as you can from the people you're trapping. I've read about these spells plenty of times.”

Tired, Arthur resheathed his sword and collapsed onto the floor next to Merlin. The knights also sat themselves down, exhausted.

“Does it hurt?” Arthur whispered quickly.

“Not anymore,” Merlin answered, also in a hurried, hushed tone. “Thanks for the bandage.”

Arthur felt the words claw at his throat. He so desperately wanted to know. Who was it that Merlin had let into his heart to share a bed with? Who had this servant boy met that he did not know about? Merlin told him everything. Or at least, Merlin was such an open book that Arthur knew it all. Or at least he thought he did.

His heart beat heavy in his chest. And the question never made it into the air.

Finally, Leon broke the solemn silence that hung above all their heads.

“Look, Gwaine, you really don't need to lie about being a lady-killer. We'll love you either way.”

The knights burst into a much needed uproarious laughter and even a chuckle escaped from Merlin and Arthur.

“But I've been with loads of women!” Gwaine protested. “The witch was mistaken!”

“Sure, sure,” Percival spoke dismissively. “We definitely believe you and not some super scary witchy curse, Gwaine.”

And with that the knights rose to their feet and continued on with their journey. Arthur’s eyes lingering on Merlin's arm just a fraction of a second too long.

[oriria512]

ALHAITHAM x Reader

To those who goes quiet when they're sad, i'm with you babe 😭

"...huh"

Alhaitham pealed his gaze off from the book in his hand, his eyes darting around the house from the couch

The plants? Lush green, flowing in the gentle breeze at the window frame. The table? Topped with two cups of tea he brewed not long ago and books he's yet to read. The kitchen? Neat and tidy, some dishes in the sink needs a washing but other than that still clean.

Everything seems normal enough, he wanders back to the book , eyes squinting to check the writings but they're perfectly fine too

But... something feels off

It's awfully quiet today, Alhaitham thought to himself

And as if an exclamation mark appeared on top of his head, he turns his head right, to your side of the couch

How long have you been sitting there, all quiet and at peace with a poker face that it almost feels tad bit unreal, staring blankly at the window, deep in your thoughts.

You've always been so cheerful, the sunshine that brightens every path you waltz, to see you like this made his heart tightens. Now if it were just anyone, they'd probably assume you're just relaxing, enjoying the rare tranquility of the day, but this was Alhaitham we're talking about!

Were there something troubling you? Or was it a particular person who has inflicted this humbling sadness on you?

Nevermind that...yet

With a straight face, he discarded his book then leans closer to you

Before you can acknowledge his sudden movement, he pressed his soft warm lips against yours

Surprised, you unknowingly jerked away with widen eyes only for him to tilt his head and kissed you again whilst holding your hand

It took you a moment to process what just happened when he pulled back, opening his beautiful turquoise eyes that makes you feel like drowning in them everytime they met yours

"wh-what was that for?" You finally spoke up, heart thumping faster as blood rushes to your cheeks

Alhaitham only blinked at you, confused not knowing how much his action has affected you, "kissing releases dopamine and relive stress, and it looks as though you needed it" he said, voice sincere and warm

"But you've never been the one to initiated it before, it's quite odd coming from you" your brows furrowed into a concern frown

His free hand coming up to hold your face, thumb gently swiping your redden cheek

"We are lovers, are we not? Besides, you looked troubled, it pains me to see you so sad and quiet, not being able to talk about your feelings with me..." confessing as he gave you a small reassuring smile

Your eyes tear up at his thoughtfulness

He's always been this observing, looking pass the walls you built around yourself

"I need you to trust me" he whispered softly, pulling you in for an embrace, sheltering you from the world. He never wants you to feel like you have to always be happy and brave to be loved, he'd rather be the one to stay with you during your lowest.

You sniffle in his chest, trying to keep up the act you'd put on your whole life

"i'm fine..." You uttered weakly, hands gripping the back of his shirt

Alhaitham didn't try to argue with you, humming as a response as he soothe you, tightening the hug to stimulate more comfort and help you relax. More importantly, to assure you that he's here for you.

Whatever it is you're dealing with, he wants to be apart of the battle

Because he knows you'd do the same for him.

A/N : on god we all deserve someone who'd see our pain through all that acting.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture: 🐇🩵What guides do you want to hear right now?🩵🐇

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵

🐇Masterlist🐇

🩵Pile 1: Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords and 4 of Pentacles.

It is essential that you start to trust yourself more. You have incredible potential that can take you far and help you achieve all those dreams you long for. However, sometimes you put obstacles in your way that prevent you from moving forward. It is time for you to realize that those limits are only mental and that you can overcome them.

Take a moment to clear your mind and focus on what you really want to achieve. If you put in the effort and work hard, you will see that you can achieve your goals. But it is also essential that you believe in your abilities and talents. Self-confidence is key to being able to show the world what you can really offer.

You have a personality that can shine and attract others, you just need to put aside those doubts that hold you back. Instead of getting stuck in your thoughts, start embracing your charisma and showing it without fear. Remember that you have everything you need to succeed, so go ahead, you can do it!

🩵Song:

🪻Pile 2: The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles and 2 of Wands.

There are a lot of positive things coming your way. All the hard work you've been doing is going to pay off, so don't get discouraged. It's normal to feel a little frustrated or exhausted right now, but it's important to keep an optimistic attitude, because what you've been wanting so much is just around the corner.

You will achieve great things and people around you will notice. However, it's essential that you stay grounded and don't forget your roots. Humbleness is key on this path, and remember that every step you take brings you closer to your goals. Your effort and dedication will not go unnoticed, and that's something you should celebrate. You have a voice that resonates strongly and has the potential to inspire many. I'm sure you'll soon see the impact you can have on others, and it may be sooner than you imagine. So keep going, keep faith in yourself and your abilities, because the best is yet to come and you deserve to enjoy every moment of this journey.

🪻Song:

🎀Pile 3: King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles and 3 of Cups.

It's time for you to take a break and celebrate everything you've achieved so far. It's essential that you find a space of calm in your life, where you can focus on the here and now. You may feel a little confused right now, as if you're not clear about where you're going, but in reality, that's part of the process. Life has its ups and downs, and sometimes, getting a little lost is what allows us to rediscover our path.

I feel that taking advantage of these moments of calm can be very. It is in these moments of reflection that you can connect with your true desires and passions, discovering what really motivates you and what you want to do throughout your life. So, instead of worrying about what is to come, allow yourself to enjoy this journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

Remember that not everything has to be resolved immediately. Sometimes, answers come when we least expect them, and situations tend to fall into place naturally. So relax and trust that everything will fall into. Enjoy every step you take, every small achievement, and don't worry so much about the future; the important thing is to live in the present and learn from every experience that comes your way.

🎀Song:

🩵🐇Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🐇🩵

[inmyheaddd]

✦ sparks fly (and so do waterbottles!)

a/n: as a certified clutz myself i couldn’t just write one clumsy!reader x percy fic 🙈🙈 wc: 757

you were carrying a box full of camp gear—rope, quivers, sparring gloves, a couple of water bottles—as you carefully made your way through the trail towards the archery range. percy had offered to help earlier, but you’d waved him off, saying that you’d be fine, it was a one person job. 

the one second you weren’t looking down at your feet, you tripped on a long tree root. 

you tumbled straight over onto your knees, dropping the box box with half of its content spilled all across the ground. you watched a quiver roll extra dramatically downhill in your moment of shock. 

seriously?

percy jogged over from somewhere behind you, as if he was waiting to see it happen, trying and failing to hide his grin. “you know, i offered to help you, like, two minutes ago.”

“i was fine,” you muttered with your cheeks heating up, crouching down to gather everything you had dropped.

he held up one of the water bottles he’d caught, that flung halfway down the path behind you. “clearly. you’re doing wonders for the camp’s inventory.”

you huffed, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “it’s part of the training program. it builds resilience.” you said, “it’s like… the gods way of keeping me humble or something.”

unfortunately for you, this was not the first time this has happened. 

he chuckled lowly, leaning down to help you pick up the remaining gear. “hey, you could even say they’re trying to keep you grounded,” he said, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he grinned. “literally.”

you stifled a smile as you both stood up, swatting his arm as he took a few of the items from you. “you’re so unfunny.”

you picked up the box and you and percy began walking forward to all the other items that rolled away.

“y’know, i’ve been thinking, do i need to get you, like, some armor?” he teased, nearly snorting as you almost stumbled on the same tree root once again.

you shot him a look. “its not my fault! i’d be just fine if everything in here didn’t have like a personal vendetta against me…” you mumbled under your breath as you stared at the box in your hand. that was the only possible explanation for how often you dropped things or tripped on them.

“right,” he said, grinning as he raised his brows. “i should get you a safety vest, or something... bright yellow, so all the supplies know to steer clear.”

“oh, yeah. you’re hilarious,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you carefully reached for another bottle you’d missed. you tried to ignore the way your palms stung slightly after you’d scraped them on the gravel, but you couldn’t help but wince slightly.

percy’s brows furrowed as he looked at you, then to your hands. “are you good?” he asked, but he was already taking the box from your arms and putting it on the ground. then he took your hands in his and inspected them. 

“i’m literally fine, perce. it’s just a scrape.” you said with a chuckle as you tried to retract your hands, but he only held your wrists firmer.

he turned them over, checking the backs of your hand before rubbing soft circles with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe them. you wanted to laugh at the sudden switch up, but also cry out of the sweetness of the small act. 

“okay, so,” he said softly, “i’m adding protective gloves to shopping list along with the armor— do you think you’ll need safety glasses too?” percy was grinning now, but he made his joke in such a serious tone, sounding like a concerned mother, but you knew his sarcasm all too well.

“oh yeah, for sure.” you rolled your eyes as you took your hands out of his and picked up the box. “i’ll be looking like a minion by the end of it.” 

“hey, it’s a good look on you,” he said with a grin, walking alongside you, still carrying half your load in his hands, making the box a bit lighter for you. 

“you’re the only person who could pull it off, trust me.” 

“no way,” you shook your head as you laughed, “if i was ever going to wear that, you’d have to wear it with me.”

“i’d look like an idiot any day if it meant you not getting injured, sure.” he said casually. he then nudged your shoulder carefully, giving you that soft smile of his. ”someone’s gotta keep you from tripping over yourself.” 

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: we vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Jazlene comes to with a wispy sigh. You back up and stand as her mother helps her to her feet. The king is back at the table, unbothered by the overcome maiden. Lord Dustan hovers between, torn by loyalty to his liege and his family. New liege, that is. Only yesterday, he was toasting to good King Waleran. 

“My apologies, your highness,” Jazlene fans herself with her hand, “I was only surprised. I didn’t... How could I expect this? To marry a king?” She reaches down to grip her mother’s arm, shakily stepping forward towards the king who doesn’t even glance up from the table of maps, “I promise to you, your highness, I will be a good wife to you.” 

The king tilts his head, tracing a finger along a ridge of mountains, then leans in to examine the riverbeds below. Jazlene looks at her mother, an expression of concern on her pretty features. She is rarely ignored, if at all. She will make sure that she isn’t. 

“Lord Dustan, I expect the dowry will be served along with your men and my kingdom,” the king declares, “but now, I find myself fatigued. A hard day’s ride sees me in need of bath and a bed.” 

Dustan bows his head, “and so you will have it, your highness. I will send down for water--” 

“Have the maid see to it,” the king waves his hand vaguely in your direction, “certainly a servant is a servant.” 

“Yes, your highness, how wise,” Dustan simpers, as he often does to men with titles above his own. “You,” the duke turns and snaps his fingers, “you heard the king. He requires hot water in his chamber.” 

You keep your head down, “yes, my lord.” 

You spin without hesitation. You’re all too happy to be free of the noble intrigue. It is rather easier to be unseen and unthought of. It has ever kept you from envying these ladies and their silks and these lords and their golden signets. 

Your flight is fleet. You rush down the corridor and to the wide stairwell. You descend with your mission and pass Merinda as she paces listlessly outside the kitchens. She stops you with an arm across your path. 

“There are whispers,” she says lowly, “of who visits. Is it true?” 

You look at her. You don’t know if you should say. It isn’t her place and you don’t know what they say. There is rather much gossip in castles. 

“It is,” she hisses, “you don’t need to say it. You are a poor liar and when you say nothing, I know that is the reason.” 

Your lips pinch and you give her a look, “I have been sent to draw a bath.” 

“Oh, is the lady in need of her evening boil?” Merinda snickers. 

“Not her.” 

Merinda quiets and tilts her head, “...him?” 

“The king,” you answer thinly. 

She nods and steps closer, “is he... I don’t understand. His soldiers, they mill about with our own, they cavort together. Not as enemies. Are they not invading? Do they not mean to take the castle?” 

You tear your eyes away. She’s right, you are a poor liar. You lean in, lips right by her ear, you whisper, “Lord Dustan has new allegiances.” 

She claps her hand over her mouth as you back up. She stares at you with wide eyes. She slowly drops her arm and her lip quivers, “he means to get us all killed.” 

You push your shoulders up, “think only of today. It’s all we can do. Oh, do you know where the king’s chambers would be?” 

“Mm, they took his saddlebags to the ivory room. I think there,” she answers, “do you require assistance?” 

“Stay here,” you gird, “he is a brusque man.” 

That only seems to worry her more as her face twists. You can’t help but feel the same inside but you do your best not to let it show. You leave her and carry on to your task. 

You put the kitchen hands to boiling water and send a few others to find a tub to bring to the king’s chambers. You help where you can and take the first bucket up. You pour it into the large tub in the ivory room and return for second, a third, a forth, and fifth. There will be many more even as your arms ache and your nap slickens with sweat. 

Upon the eight, when the tub looks near halfway, the chamber is not empty. You’re surprised by the king’s presence as the door remains ajar. You pour the water with a low apology and diligent ‘your highness.’ He doesn’t respond. 

There is much to go still. Back down, up again, hot water splashing on your sleeves, singing beneath, dumping it over the edge as you keep your eyes on your work. Do not be more than a piece of furniture. You are only air. 

At the last bucket, you pour slowly, careful not to slosh over the edges. As you right the empty pail, you hear a metal chink. The king growls into a long exhale. You turn towards the door. 

“Close it,” he commands, “you will remain.” 

You’re happy he cannot see the look on your face. You obey and close the door. You turn back, standing by the pillar of the door frame, as you often do, and begin your vigil. It should not be unexpected that he may require you to fetch something further for him. 

Your eyes catch the bottom of his mail as he lifts it over his head. No, don’t look. He undresses, leather creaking, fabric rustling, pacing as he strips away each piece. You grip the rope handle of the bucket. He circles the long tub and nears you. You cower, bracing. You are not noticed, you are not approached, unless it is for rebuke. 

He grabs the bucket by the brim and tugs. You let it go. He turns and sets it on the floor away from you. You push your hands together, stilling a tremble. He wears only his breeches and you catch a glimpse of the thatch of hair along his thick stomach. You gulp and twine your fingers through each other. 

He turns away and crosses the room. You listen to the fabric fall from around his hips. Your eyes bore into the floorboards. The water shifts as he climbs into the tub and you listen to him groan as he lowers himself into the depths. The steam mingles with the tension of his silence. 

He sighs and stirs the water. The lull persists as you wait. He will need wine or food.  

“Come,” he bids and your eyes flick up. The tub conceals much of his lower body as his thick shoulders and arms stretch around the brim. “I have a knot.” 

You approach hesitantly, unsure where to aim your eyes the closer you get. He gestures around his head, “stand behind me.” 

You do as he tells you. 

He sits up slightly and bends his head forward, lifting his white hair out of the way, “here.” 

He points along the muscle beside his neck. It’s thick, just like all of him. You’ve never seen a man built like that. There are stringy barn boys and tubby cooks.  

You stare and raise a hand, hovering it over his muscle. Are you supposed to touch him? He is a king and you are a servant. You are a servant sold out of pig shit into servitude. 

His large hand reaches for yours and he guides it down. You shake before he lets you go. You feel the muscle, almost curious, and rub lightly. He makes a noise but you’re unsure of its tenor. 

“Harder,” he demands, “squeeze,” he shows his hand, making a kneading motion, “you cannot hurt me.” You do as he says. You squeeze and he rests his hand against the tub, “harder,” he repeats. 

You obey. 

His head hangs as his long strands touch the water. You bring your other hand up as your efforts make your tendons sore. He lets out shallow breaths and hissing groans. Your chest thumps at the sounds that rise from him. 

“Your master has broken his oath and sworn a new one to me. And you, does that make me your master as well? If I am your master’s master?” He asks slyly. 

You focus on your hands, “your highness?” 

“Answer, don’t be afraid. Liars bore me.” 

You sniff and mull your reply. You don’t know. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

“Lord Dustan is my master. I am bound to serve him.” 

He snorts and lifts his head. You rescind your touch but he reaches back to latch onto your again. He tugs you forward, placing your hand back on his shoulder. 

“Softer now,” he instructs. You rub his damp flesh as he bends a leg, his knee poking above the water. “You, a servant, so low, and you are more loyal than any man with a title.” 

“Your highness, I must serve.” 

“As he must. Did he not swear himself to the old king? Eh? War does muddy the waters,” he muses, “coin does test old ties.” 

You say nothing. Your comment isn’t warranted or wanted. You know better. Jazlene taught you only to answer when asked. 

“Very well,” he taps your fingers, “I feel better. You have a kind touch.” 

You back away and wipe your hands on your apron. He hangs his head back and puffs. He closes his eyes. You watch the white waves made wilder by the humidity of the bath. 

“I hate sleeping in strange places,” he says, “you will stay for the eve.” 

You tuck your chin down and fold your hands together. Your scalp sweats beneath your cap, your shorn locks itchy with the heat. You wet your lips and force out the air trapped in your chest, “yes, your highness. As my master bid, I will serve you.” 

He says nothing more as he leans back against the tub completely. His large arms frame the metal and his hands wrap around the edges. He closes his shining eyes in recline, the water still and steaming. He stays that way until the damp heat dissipates. You stand locked in his thrall. 

He sits forward suddenly, the water stirring with his movement. He turns his hand and beckons with his thick fingers. 

“A bath sheet,” he demands. 

You go to the chest in the corner and open it. You retrieve a folded swath of fabric and bring it to him. He stands as you unfold the length of linen to obscure his form. Your eyes are on the ceiling as the water slakes from his figure and he looms large above you. 

He steps out, close to you, and puts his hands over yours. He pulls the sheet around his body, your arms too. He releases you only as he adjusts the fabric around his waist and you retract with humiliation nipping in your cheeks. You lean back on your heel as you shrink in his shadow. 

“Your highness, do you require refreshment? Wine? Sweetmeats?” 

“I did not ask for it,” he says, “I am tired.” 

“Apologies, your highness.” 

“Do not apologise for doing your duty. Would be a fairer world if more were so diligent.” 

He turns and strides away. There’s a knapsack and bedroll against the wall. He keeps one hand on the sheet and unbuckles the flap, reaching within and tugging out a bed shirt. He drops the sheet away and your eyes flit away from his nakedness. He has no shame but you are merely a servant. He shouldn’t care for your witness. 

He swipes the fabric over his head and it falls just to his thighs, concealing just enough to have him decent. His thick legs are trimmed in dark hair and the muscles are taut beneath his skin. He faces the bed and pulls back the quilt and linen. He pauses and looks up at you. 

“Will you sleep afoot then?” He wonders. 

“Your highness?” You wince. “I must...” you peer around, “empty the bath.” 

“Must you? Stagnant water can wait,” he insists. “Come.” 

You waver, skirts rippling around your legs. You step forward and stagger. 

“The lantern, your highness?” You inquire. 

“Douse the light if you will,” he allows. “And come.” 

You do as he bids and snuff out the flame. Your vision is left blackened and formless. You reach out blindly, realising your error too late. You can’t see much as you walk warily towards the bed. The heavy curtains are shut and block out the sliver of moonlight. 

Your knees hit the bed and you gasp. You catch yourself before you can fall forward, leaning against the mattress. You’re stuck like that, uncertain if you should go forward or back. Something wraps around your wrist, a stolid heat. 

“I often sleep with my horse,” the king says as he draws you onto the bed. “I need a warm body close.” 

You go rigid as you let him command your body. He guides you to lay down and tugs the bedclothes over you. The damp specks on your dress and apron cling to your skin. He leads your head over his thick arm as he lays on his back neck to you. You stare into the endless void of the canopy. 

“The horse smells much worse and snores,” he muses, his arm curling around your shoulders, offering a more comfortable rest for your head and neck. You quiver at being so close. It is an odd request but you daren’t decline it. “Be still,” his other hand comes to touch your sleeve, “and sleep. I only mean to ease my own unrest.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. Your heart is pounding and your body is tingling. You don’t think you can sleep with the surge flowing through you. He sighs and shifts slightly. You lay there, in silence, only the noise of his breath and yours to fill the castle walls. 

“I am awake,” he says. “Speak to me, maid. Tell me, where do you lay your head on nights where a king does not trouble you?” 

You wiggle slightly. Your spine is uncomfortable at the flatness but not worse than your usual fare. You bring your hand over your chest and fist your fingers tight. 

“On a bag of hay with Merinda,” you utter smally, pushing your legs together as you arch your back slightly. Your hips are tight. 

You’re startled as the bed jostles and he grips your hip. He rolls you onto your side, his touch lingers as he pulls you against him. He is as hot as a hearth. 

“Merinda?” He repeats. 

“Another handmaid, your highness.” 

He hums and drags his hand away from your hip. He blows out a great heavy and grunts. His arm curls around you snugly. 

“I hope I am preferable to that bag of hay,” he mutters and the tension seeps away from his form. “Though perhaps just as prickly.” 

[softsuo]

when they're in love with a rival

⊱ it feels quite humbling when a long-time rival is going easy on you—little do you know it's because they're in love with you ; suo, kaji

⊱ request: "I want to request a scenario where Suo and Kaji (separately) fall in love with someone of a rival gang. So they have to fight each other, but really they are going easy on them"

⊱ w.c: 0.9k (total); 0.4k (average)

⊱ genre: fluff-ish, enemies to lovers but also not?

⊱ warnings: mild depictions of violence

⊱ a/n: not too sure if this is the style you wanted, but i did have lots of fun writing it so thank you for requesting it <3 is it proofread though? not at all

kaji ren

it pisses you off. in fact, you feel humiliated.

it’s anything but the first time you cross paths and exchange fists with kaji—you’re familiar with his moves just fine at this point.

what you’re not familiar with is how beat up he looks under your returning knuckles. sure, it’s not like you’re weak, but neither is he, so there’s something with you having a dramatic upper hand in this that simply doesn’t sit right with you.

is he not taking you seriously? is he having a bad day? has he become weaker? not a chance, so why is he taking more of your hits and landing less of his own? you hate it, you don’t want to win like this, especially not when your group had picked the fight first and especially not in front of them. it looks too easy. it is too easy.

the next time you grab his collar, it feels more like a personal grudge rather than that of a rivaling team. he finds himself pushed backwards, back pressed against the building’s cement wall and god you look so ready to down right strangle him. “i know you’re not a wimp so stop acting like one,” you speak through gritted teeth, “what the fuck is going on?!”

kaji raises his hand and you think he’s finally going to do something—anything—so it surprises you when he merely ruffles his hair in what looks like frustration. it exposes his forehead, dripped in a perfect stripe of red after a fresh wound you’d caused. he groans, although unsure whether it’s at you or himself, “hell if i know.”

“are you messi—”

from his group, your group, you don’t know, but someone bumps into you from behind. they’re gone just as fast, but you wind up inches away from a collision; you gasp in surprise, so does he, and you think you must be tripping because he quickly turns his head to the side, the color of his skin growing closer to that of his bleeding.

“how the hell am i supposed to hit you like this?” you just barely hear him bitterly mutter.

“... what the fuck are you talking about? i’m not even holding you back, your hands are literally open, can you at least try to punch me or something?”

while you continue talking and complaining, kaji is sure he’s going to combust from how painfully clueless you are.

suo hayato

it’s like suo isn’t even trying. he normally plays himself into victory. now he’s just defending himself.

he still wears the same, smug smile as every time you’ve been doomed to meet, but it’s truly like he doesn’t care about winning. as much of a fight you often tend to put up, you’d normally have at least a bruise or two by now, but you’re about as unscratched as he is; it’s getting you nowhere through the moment, and you’re starting to think you’ll end up throwing fists the rest of the night if this keeps up.

just as you attempt the nth punch of the evening, it winds up meaningless upon easily being caught in his hand—this time, you don’t bother retreating. you simply cannot be arsed to even try, frustration so real it makes you feel defeated, knuckles remaining flush against his palm. glaring past them, you’re met by the plum-red eyes crinkled by the corners, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“what are you doing?”

suo hums, although the clueless hint lacing it sounds as fake as it could possibly be, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“why are you holding back?” you scoff. “why are you giving up?” “i’m not giving up—”

not a second later, his hand is latching around your own, you’re quickly pulled forwards, so close, too close, nearly standing chest to chest.

“but you’re not even trying anymore,” suo points out, quietly for only you to hear, but the taunting hint lacing his voice is loud and clear.

“you haven’t been trying at all!” “and you’re still not winning—isn’t giving you the best image, is it?”

you furrow your eyebrows, questioningly. you’re quick to regret as suo soon leans closer to your ear and frankly, he’s relishing the shiver you can’t hold back. “think about it. your friends can still fight because their strongest member hasn’t been knocked out yet, even though we clearly have the upper hand this time—so what do you think will happen if i suddenly take you down, right here and now?”

suo has a point and yet, behind the smug words, he’s praying you’ll finally give in. taking you down right here and now is the last thing he wants.

from somewhere in the back, you can make out one of your friends asking if you need back-up. before you can bring out any sort of answer, rushed steps are already closing in. in the corner of your eyes, suo is bracing his hand and unlike whatever the hell he’s been doing this entire time, you know perfectly well it’s not a stance he takes for the sake of defense.

he’s definitely holding back on you, and on you alone.

“you’re absolutely twisted, suo,” you mutter between grit teeth before hastily pulling yourself out of his hold. you know it comes as a bit of a surprise to the rest when you turn around and declare retreat for now, but you know it’s for the best at this very moment.

for a brief instance, you turn around to face him again, “you’re eating your words up next time.”

suo, in return, merely waves at you with that one stupid smile, “i’ll look forward to it!”

[zstartrixxx]

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩, 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔊𝔬𝔡

ˢᵗᵃʳᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛᶦˡ, ᵖᵃʳᶜʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵈ

ᵛᵃᵐᵖᶦʳᵉᵈᵉᵐᵒⁿꜝʳᵉᵐᵐᶦᶜᵏ × ˡᵃᵗᶦⁿᵃꜝᵒᶜ

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Freedom burned in Dulce Dollores' soul like a sacred fire. Her hollow prayers and stubborn rejection of a fate too cruel for her tender heart drove her to forbidden paths - nights of clandestine revelry with her dearest friend, where whiskey flowed like salvation and cigarette smoke curled around their laughter. Here, in these stolen moments of dancing and delirium, she tasted the liberation her spirit craved. Yet her stifled existence in 1930s Mississippi, trapped between the close-knit world of Mexican immigrants and the weathered Black sharecroppers who worked the land, could never have foretold how her destiny would collide with the devil's hunger. He came disguised in mortal flesh - a predator's eyes gleaming above a serpent's silver tongue. Remmick. From their first encounter, he recognized in Dulce something rare, something he must possess. As nightmares bled into waking hours, as menstrual stains marked sheets like sacrificial offerings, as folk superstitions whispered through the magnolia trees, Dulce waged war against his dark seduction. She would not yield to the sweet poison of his kiss. But Remmick's obsession had crystallized into destiny. And when the devil covets, he takes - whether by heaven's reluctant permission or hell's own dark designs. 𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: Here is my humble contribution to this incredible fandom with my work. In this fanfic, the idea is to really be an alternative universe within the canon of the film's plot; to bring Remmick's character, yes, but with interferences about how I see vampires, as well as to play with religious elements (mainly Catholic, which hurt and touch Remmick a lot) as well as the protagonist, a woman of Latin origin in the middle of a Mississippi that is inhospitable to outsiders. I am really putting a lot of effort, love and a little bit of madness from my clever little head to write it. I write slowly, like a quilt that you sew, part by part, so don't expect immediacy from me (unfortunately, life out here is busy) BUT I swear that the fanfic is well underway [from here on I will update as I publish the other remaining parts]. part I: published (here and on ao3, link below). part II: published (here and on ao3). part III: published (here and on ao3) 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰&ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰: ADULT CONTENT, +18. it's a dead drove - do not eat here! AU!CANON (stils remmick, some adapted vampiric workings, strong poetic license here, set exactly in 1930s), OC!FEMALE LATINA, vampirism, blood kink (ofc!!!), toxic&manipulative behaviour, angst, sexual content (oral, penetration...), dub-con, implied queer, violence and a some of gore, foul language, latin reference, catholic guilt and religious themes (seriously, there's a lot of that, be warned!!!), southren goth and a ethel cain & chelsea wolf inspo (listen hers, for real!!!); iwtv, dracula, carmilla and others vampires universes refes&inspos; some words and phrases were written in spanish, and each end of the part has its own small glossary with the translations. lmk if i missing something!!! ;) 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ---- [if you prefer the AO3 reading experience, the fanfic will also be published on the site. you can access it through THIS LINK. ;] a great read for anyone who reads it! <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ - ℌ𝔬𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔩 [wc. 7360]

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑℑ - 𝔓𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔡𝔞 𝔏𝔲𝔫𝔞 [wc 7480]

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑℑℑ - 𝔏𝔞 𝔅𝔬𝔡𝔞 𝔑𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔞 [wc 3165]

“The Devil exists, my child, and He roams the earth. Here, among us, He lives and feeds on those who do not believe in God’s salvation… Therefore, keep true to your vows. The Christian path will shield you—your purity will keep you focused on God’s designs, and soon, so very soon, you shall witness the fulfillment of His divine promises: a decent and righteous husband. A sacred family, and the utter bliss of being a woman built upon God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit… And so, I tell you again as your Priest and your most devoted counselor: keep praying, follow God’s teachings, obey your parents, and above all—keep your soul fixed on salvation. For we alone can save ourselves.”

[...]

Remmick murmured:

"You're so wet for me, it's impossible not to devour you whole."

Moving softly, like a shadow both pursuing and more subtle than its prey, the man parted her legs, settling between her thighs as he bent forward until the tip of his nose touched her most intimate apex. Dulce closed her eyes – not from fear, but to control the electrifying sensation that overwhelmed her at such proximity. He then trailed his nose, lips and chin downward, smearing his face with the blood flowing from her. His hands gripped Dulce's thighs, pinning them to the bed, already anticipating the restless undulations of her virginal body. He waited for no permission to continue; his tongue simply descended to lap the menstrual blood before ascending to her clitoris, where it moved rhythmically, mingling saliva and blood as rough groans of primal pleasure escaped him, feeling her undulate against his tongue.

[...]

(PART I - HOMBRE MAL)

[...]

"Well now... I thought you'd understood my message." He tilted his head sideways, grinning slyly, as the woman stumbled backward toward the altar - Remmick smiled, utterly mesmerized by his prey:

"I only want to give you the best this world has to offer, Doll! No more suffering, no reprimands, no unanswered prayers—I am the one who came to save you, my love!" His voice was so soft and sweet that for a brief moment, she paused, looking at him with a mix of anguish and pity.

Remmick stood face to face with her, fang to fang. His breath carried a metallic sweetness, the pungent scent of morbid death clinging to him, yet his eyes shimmered like fragments of the twilight sky. With hands still stained by others' blood, he cupped her face without hesitation, forcing her gaze to remain locked on his:

"I cannot love you the way a human longs to be loved, not anymore... But I can free you from all your pain and introduce you to carnal pleasures, my dear. I can make you love me in your life, and in your brief death, we shall share each other. Just let me possess you, and we'll become one. Equals, one flesh, one spirit."

[...]

(PART II - PALIDA LUNA)

[...]

Remmick glanced over his shoulder at her, grinning crookedly, pressing a foot into Jeremy’s chest.

“I’m Dulce’s real husband, you idiot. While you thought you’d take everything from her… she’d already made her pact with the Devil.” He crouched, knees pinning Jeremy, claws around his throat. “Tonight, I claim what’s mine.”

(PART III - LA BODA NEGRA)

[yeosatinyngz]

TRY AGAIN

🎶So whenever you ask me again, how I feel. Please remember, my answer is you🎶

↳GN Reader: After breaking up and with years of no contact, you and Zayne cross paths again at a high school reunion. You both come to realize that you both still have feelings for each other.

↳Exes to lovers | Teensy angst to fluff | wc: 1,140

A/N: As a celebration for Zayne’s Birthday, I present to y’all with this oneshot🥳 It’s not the best but I had to write something for our hunksicle

Hazel eyes pierces into your soul for the umpteenth time as you once again ignore it. You were dragged by Caleb to attend tonight’s high school reunion and you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, especially with the way your high school ex was seated across from you and openly staring you down intensely.

Even though it’s been a decade since you’ve last seen him, it still doesn’t change how awkward and on edge you feel since you’ve both ended off on a not so good note.

Back when you were both together you really thought it would last. The beginning of your relationship with him was a dream come true, until he started to shut you out and treated you coldly, ultimately breaking it off with you.

You still remember how cold his eyes were when he said he wanted to break up. How he said you were a distraction to his studies and that you and him were not a good match.

He didn’t even wait for you to say anything before he left you alone, confused and heartbroken. After that he avoided you and never once acknowledged you again. You just came to terms with his decision and also avoided him.

Seeing him here tonight was the last thing you wanted. Time healed your broken heart and you never held a grudge against him, you just weren’t sure where your standing with him is at now so you don’t even know how to act around him. The wisest decision you conjured up was to try your best to ignore the raven haired male sitting across you and distract yourself by chatting with Caleb who’s sitting next to you.

As the evening progresses, it’s without a doubt that the conversation would center around Zayne due to his outstanding achievements in his field. Someone chimes in a, “I saw that you earned the Starcatcher award as well, you’re so admirable, Zayne.”

He brushes it off humbly while everyone congratulates him. You silently congratulate him as well, thinking he wouldn’t hear you. Contrary to your belief, you looked up to see him looking directly at you, with the corner of his mouth lifted up into a small smile. He softly mumbled out a thank you as well, shocking you.

You quickly look away before the conversation shifts over to you. “Oh yeah [name] I’ve been seeing your jewelry all over the internet, it's so cool to see how your hard work has paid off.” “Look, I’m wearing your earrings right now!” Your mood instantly brightened as your jewelry was brought up and Zayne couldn’t help but be enamored by the passionate look in your eyes, the eyes that used to stare lovingly at him. The very eyes that also showed absolute despair due to his heartless words that still haunts him till this day.

The long night has wrapped up as everyone was saying their goodbyes. You told Caleb to go ahead and not wait for you since you had to quickly go use the bathroom.

After you finished using the bathroom, you returned to the table to get your belongings. To your surprise, Zayne was still sitting there. That’s when you realize that he was waiting for you.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain as you blurted out, “How come you’re still here?” You quickly slap a hand over your mouth and you hear a chuckle come from him before he replies, “To keep an eye on your belongings.” “Oh, thank you.” You awkwardly thank him as you put your jacket on, followed by your bag.

He followed behind you as you walked out of the restaurant and he continued to trail behind you for the next 5 minutes. You turned back to look at him with an eyebrow quirked up, “Uh, do you have something to say to me?” He stops in his tracks and awkwardly looks elsewhere.

“This isn’t the most ideal place for this but I just wanted to sincerely apologize to you for my past behavior during our high school days.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well that took you a decade to say.” He rubs his neck, embarrassed.

“I was an immature teenager who didn’t know how to handle the immense love you showered me with. I felt like I didn’t deserve it and that someone like me would only bring you down. I know this just sounds like excuses but I truly shouldn’t have acted like such a prick and shut you out. I regretted it so much and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“I really appreciate you apologizing to me Zayne, truth to be told I never held a grudge against you for breaking up with me. Sure it did hurt but I guess the world was telling us that the timing just wasn’t right for us. Bottom line is that I forgive you so I hope you don’t feel guilty anymore.”

Zayne gulps down the nerves building up in his throat as he asks you the question he’s been dying to know the answer to, “Are you perhaps single?” He kept up with you through your social media over the years and he remembers seeing recently that there were rumors that you were dating a model you hired for your jewelry advertisements. He anxiously awaits your answer as you replied with a quick, “Yep” leading to him breathing a sigh of relief.

“About what you said regarding how the world was telling us that the timing wasn’t right for us then, how about now?” You pondered for a moment at his question before you looked into his eyes. Oh this was bad, the feelings you locked up were resurfacing and you’re drowning in his eyes. It doesn’t help that he has gotten more handsome, your eyes dragged across his more defined features as your heart beat starts picking up.

Before you could even speak, specks of snowflakes fall within your line of sight. You look up at the sky in excitement as it starts snowing harder. Your face is now full of snowflakes, Zayne cautiously brings his hands up and starts wiping them off your face. You couldn’t help but notice a silver shine illuminating from his right wrist. You took a closer look and gasped in shock as you realized that it was the bracelet you made for Zayne back when you both were dating, a silver chain bracelet with a padlock charm that had both your initials engraved on it.

You smiled brightly at him and threw your arms around him, “I think the world just gave us a sign that it’s finally our time.” The first snow continues to fall down, embracing you both as a way to celebrate your reunion and as a sign to ensure a lasting relationship.

[my-writing-street]

i accidentally posted this when it wasnt finished so I lost the ask but thankfully I ss fucking everything

anyways some warnings for blood

enjoy!

Once more, you headed into the forest.

Recently, Lord Aphmau asked if you could travel to the woods and collect some herbs for Lady Zoey. You, of course, were ecstatic to help! Lord Aphmau had already done so much for your little village, the least you could do to repay her was collect a few measly herbs.

And so, every day, you would head into the forest. But not alone. Lord Aphmau had assigned you a guard to keep you safe.

Well.. it's more truthful to say that he assigned himself. Sir Laurance, second in command of the guards, had taken it upon himself to keep you free from dangers while you trek through the woods. It was.. eye-opening, to say the least.

Many would say that the two of you made an unusual pair, a respected guard and a humble villager. And at first, you would agree.

You and Sir Laurance had seemingly nothing in common, and you would often question why he came with you in the first place. His answer was always the same.

("I could never let a pretty thing like you wander alone in these dangerous woods now could I?")

Always accompanied by a cheeky grin, his words lit little embers in your heart, and soon you found those embers growing into a steady blaze. How lucky you were to have a guard, a sworn protector of your very village, smitten with you.

Every morning, you would wake up, get ready for the day -however, you have begun to put more effort into your appearance lately- and look forward to your trip with Sir-

("Someone as lovely as you need only call me Laurance.." his words echoed in your mind, interrupting your morning routine with his soothing, sultry-)

Ahem.. Every morning, you would wake up, get ready for the day, and look forward to your trip with..Laurance into the woods.

The trip itself was nothing special, and definitely not dangerous enough to warrant a guard- it was a simple hour-long trip there and back.

The herbs you needed grew by a small river and usually, it was the perfect resting place. The cool water provided much-needed refreshment for you and it often soothed your sore muscles.

Crouched down to the river, you splashed a bit of water on your face to cool off, it had been particularly hot today and Laurance’s not-so-subtle flirting certainly hadn't helped you cool down either. He was always present behind you, but never too far that he wasn't able to voice his silly one-liners.

(“It’s lovely weather for a walk, isn't it?” His voice echoed through the winds, somehow meddling wonderfully with the forest’s own calm and serene symphony.

Your head turned to gaze at him. He stared at the treetops while the sun peeked through the leaves, seemingly lost in thought. But just as you were about to answer, he locked eyes with you and tilted his face towards yours, smiling mischievously.

“But not as lovely as the beauty in front of me.”)

Cheesy, yet endearing: if you hid a smile or a small laugh behind your hands then it would forever remain unknown to anyone but you.

You say on your knees, face peering up to look at your -hopefully- equally smitten companion, intending to restart the chatter that had died down when the two of you reached the river. 

But.. something was off. 

Instead of looking at you -like you had suspected- Laurance was instead looking into the surrounding forest, a hand tensed on his sword’s grip. As if he was waiting for something to strike.

For all your trips into the woods, never once had you seen him like this. No longer was it your charming and silly Laurance in front of you. It was the second in command, Sir Laurance of Phoenix Drop, tense and waiting for battle.

His posture screamed danger and the hair on your arms stood at attention. Like a deer in the path of a hunter’s arrow, you remained still, ready to bolt at the moment Laurance gave a sign.

But you were never prepared for that hunter’s arrow to fly right by your face, only thrown off course by Laurance's quick sword. A thin red sliver opened up on your left cheek, steadily dripping as the arrow lodged itself in the trees behind you.

Laurence was already gone, dashing through the woods. A hastily yelled “Go!” was your only sign to start running.

…

Rushing through the woods, the only thing on your mind was Laurance. He was the second in command so surely he was fine. But those people in the woods.. They were unlike anything you had seen before.

..That's not true.

Once, before Lord Aphmau settled into Phoenix Drop you saw it. Saw him.

A man with eyes so red they could pass for blood. He was covered head to toe in blood with a crazed look in his dark red eyes. He was.. too far gone to notice you in his haze. But you would never forget the crimson and coal armor he dawned.

And it was only a glimpse, yet you saw it. The bow that had carved through your cheek was held by red claw-like gauntlets. 

Trees blurred past you and you found yourself running faster as if spurred on by the sight of ill-gotten crimson armor. You were going too fast and knew that it was only a matter of time until you slipped and fell onto the harsh ground below. Yet you continued on, perhaps putting enough distance between you and the battle would at least allow Laurance to fight at his best without having to worry about protecting you.

Cold, rocky ground met your palms as you inevitably tripped over something and fell. Harsh breaths fled from your lungs out into the air and hoped your heaving wouldn't give away your position. 

“Oh Irene,” you prayed, hands clasped over your heart and kneeling despite the pain in your legs. “Please, watch over Laurance. Let him come to no harm and-”

*Crunch*

A frightened, high-pitched noise left your lips and you cursed yourself as you scrambled to get up. They're coming for you, you know it.

Their footsteps were loud in the quiet forest. They had nothing to worry about if they were making this much noise. You tried to run, but your earlier fall had injured your legs. All you could do was pathetically scamper, each step held up by your hands fisting tree bark.

Tears cascade down your cheeks. The salt stung your wounded flesh but you paid it no mind. You had to get as far as you could-

“..me].”

They were gaining on you. Gods, is this how you die?! 

“-ame]..!”

You were just a simple villager with an interest in plants and this is where it gets you? You would have stayed at home today if you knew this was going to happen. In fact, if you make it out alive today you'd make it a point to never go into these damn woods ever again! No matter what Lord Aphmau needs, it's certainly not worth your life-!

You nearly jumped out of your skin as a cold, clammy hand gripped your shoulder.

“[Name]!”

It was-

“Laurance!” Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you almost managed to topple the both of you to the forest floor when you jumped on him.

Heavy sobs racked your body as you relaxed in his arms. Calloused and steady hands brushed the tears from your face before his fingers caught on the cut on your face.

He pulled back from your embrace and guided you to look up at him.

“Hey, its- it's ok.. Just a small scratch..” his voice was a soft, steady thing for you to focus on while he tried to placate you.

Though his words remained drowned out by your cries, you still found solace in them and managed to calm your sobs enough to get a good look at him through your tears.

Your vision was still blurry so you started with what was closest to you, his hands. Faint scratches marred them and you could smell an iron scent emanating from his palms. 

Gods, he was probably more hurt than you and here you were, crying like a baby in his arms because of one measly scratch.

You wiped your eyes, surely smearing dirt all over your face with how dirty they were. But you couldn't care less, you just had to see him. You had to make sure he was alright.

His hair was disheveled and a leaf or two aly beneath light brown strands. Sweat dripped down his forehead and mixed with dirt, likely from the fight before.

His eyes were-

You pushed him away.

“Wha- [Name]?-”

He looked at you, confused. You were just clinging to him a second ago, what had happened? He took a look behind himself to see if any pursuers had managed to get back up and follow him but he was met with nothing but forest.

He turned back to you. You were slowly backing away. It was odd, had he done something?-

A soft whisper broke the rising tension between the two of you.

“..Your eyes.” your voice was faint.

Blood-red eyes locked onto you.

(Just like the man from before, with bloodied armor, bloodied hair, and bloodied eyes.)

[thewordfortheday]

"The LORD is good and does what is right; He shows the proper path to those who go astray. He leads the humble in doing right, teaching them His way. The LORD leads with unfailing love and faithfulness all who keep His covenant and obey His demands" Psalm 25:8-10

When our hearts are humble and truly seeking God's will, we can be confident of this:

1. God will always show us what is right for us.

2. When we get sidetracked, God will direct us back to the right path.

3. We are not alone. God leads and teaches us along the way.

4. God leads those who obey Him with unfailing love and faithfulness.

PRAYER: "Show me the right path, O LORD; point out the road for me to follow. All day long I put my hope in you" (Psalm 25:4-5).

[justtheclippy]

hi Amanda! I have a question for youuu (this ones a little more serious so its okay if you don't want to answer)

so my partner recently asked me if I could start using different pronouns for them, as well as a chosen name. I'm trying to get used to it, but it's hard to adjust to since I've known them for awhile and I'm really scared I might dead name them on accident or something @_@ do you have any tips for practicing using their pronouns?

thank you, o humble monarch of queerness🙏

One thing you could try is speaking about them to yourself out loud when you're alone, which will help to start changing those ingrained habits in a low stakes environment.

But in general, change is hard, and it takes time. I understand being anxious, you want to do the 'right' thing and be a 'good' person and partner. But you're also a human being. Don't put too much pressure on yourself to be perfect right away. Making a mistake is not an irredeemable failing, your entire moral worth is not defined by one single moment. Accidentally falling into a habit does not make you a bad person.

Think about it this way- how many times have you accidentally used the wrong pronouns or name for your cis friends and family? With strangers even? I certainly have done it. My dad still mixes my name up with one of my siblings to this day. Like it happened yesterday and he's the one who named us lol Sometimes, your brain reaches for a word and pulls the wrong one.

What's more important is that you care and you're making the effort to grow with them as they are exploring themselves! It will get easier little by little, day after day, as long as you keep trying. There is no one right way to go on this journey, but not matter what that path looks like, it's much easier with support and understanding.

My advice is to keep those lines of communication open. Share your fears with them, work together to develop systems that will help both of you adjust to these changes. And, when you do make a mistake, simply correct it rather than turning it into a huge deal and guilt spiraling. Do regular check-ins with them to see if there's anything you could be doing differently to make them more comfortable.

As long as you're making a genuine effort to be there for them, I promise, they will forgive the stumbles. ❤️

[divine-hugs]

Mk1 men x Multiversal Skirmisher-Reader

Johnny Cage

> So I heard from Liu Kang that you're one of a kind? We have some things in comman.

< You and I must have different definitions of 'one of a kind'.

-

> I'm not like the other Johnny's, I'm better.

< Prove it.

-

> You have to take me on a joyride to another timeline, I'd love to team up with another Cage.

< I can barely keep up with one of you.

Bi Han

> You are mearly an anomaly.

< I am beyond your comprehension, Cryomancer.

-

> You have such power and use it for what? Galloping around like a fool, what a waste of potential.

< The multiverse is better off with someone like me protecting it, not destroying it.

-

< You can still redeem yourself. I've seen you take the right path.

> I make my own path.

Tomas Vrbada

> You're pretty fascinating.

< You're pretty intriguing yourself.

-

< My mission is to try madam bo's cooking in every timeline.

> Then let me recommend the finest.

-

> Are you staying for long? I could show you around, if you'd like.

< Your company is most appreciated, Tomas.

Kuai Liang

> You've travelled through many timelines, I must know what you've seen.

< I have many stories to share, soon.

-

> Is there a timeline where Bi Han is good...

< I'm sure there's a timeline where he's better, I only wish it was this one.

-

> You're saying there's a timeline where I'm Sub-Zero? How is this even possible.

< The universe is vast, beyond our comprehension.

Kenshi Takahashi

> Why come here?

< Where you are, I follow.

-

< This isn't really a 1v1.

> I could beat you without Sento.

-

> My ancestors fight beside me.

< Weird way to meet your family, but I'll take it.

Shang Tsung

> I need to get my hands on you, such a fine specimen.

< You're not the first Shang Tsung I've put in his place, and you won't be the last.

-

> We could take over the world, I would glady stand by your side.

< I will not be led astray.

-

< You think you can take me?

> In more ways then one, my dear

Liu Kang

> I humbly welcome you to our timeline.

< Thank you, It's an honour to meet you.

-

> We could use an ally like you.

< You can trust me.

-

> It must be lonely travelling through timelines as you do, I could...

< Are you offering your company?

[imimprisoned]

Hecate/Hekate: Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, Witchcraft, Sorcery, Ghosts, and Necromancy,

Offerings include:

1. almonds

2. foxglove

3. mint

4. sage

5. yew

6. rose petals

7. lavendar

8. cypress and willow leaves

9. frankensince

10. obsidian

11. quartz

12. seashells

13. black dog fur

14. dog nail clippings

15. images of dogs (pictures, personal drawings, dog plushies, etc.)

16. keys

17. personal offerings (nail clippings, hair)

18. anything relating to the moon (pictures, keychains, personal drawings, etc.)

19. crow, raven, and/or owl feathers

20. crossroads dirt

21. owl feathers

22. raven/crow/black feathers

23. snakeskin

24. horse hair (UPG, because horse is sacred to Her)

25. Lapis Lazuli

26. iron and bronze

27. lodestone

28. black stones/gems

29. candles, lanterns

30. statuettes of Her sacred animals

31. artwork of Her and Her sacred objects and symbols

32. poetry, music and writing in Her honour

Prayers to Hekate:

1. Glory to you, O Hekate Goddess who guards our opportunities

Queen of magic and circumstance

Keyholder, beloved mother of witches Hekate, guide me through blessed doors

Shut those that might lead to my destruction

Hekate, she who holds the keys to the realms of time

Hekate, the goddess of wisdom and fate

Who hears the whisper of prophecy

Goddess of mysteries

Take my hand, O Goddess

Put all your knowledge into my palm And let your magic flow through me

2. "Hekate, Mother of the Night so dark, Guiding spirit, with wisdom to embark.

In the moon's gentle glow, and shadows deep,

Your presence and power, our souls do

keep.

Goddess of crossroads, guardian of the way,

Hear our prayer on this sacred day.

With torches aglow, and keys in hand, Lead us through life's mysteries, we understand.

Hekate, your guidance, we humbly seek, In your wisdom and strength, we find what we need.

Protect and guide us, in darkness and light,

Mother of the Night, bless our path tonight.

3. Hecate when I doubt, Show me my strength;

When I am wrong,

Show me the right path;

Light the crossroads before me,

That I might see my way,

Queen of transitions,

Guardian of Doorways, Hecate, bless my journeys,

Through dark and dawn, day and dusk.

Help me bring into balance the forces within myself.

Light and dark, above and below,

As a coin can not have only one side, I am not whole, one without the other.

[starlight-bread-blog]

The Good & the Bad: On Aang (Not) Killing the Fire Lord

I recived this asks forever ago, trurly sorry anon, but I'll keep my apologises for the end. I'd love to answer that!

If you're asking me, this is way better than """killing him""". Case closed.

Getting this cleared up: The show didn't say that Aang is morally superior for this. It was solely about staying true to himself. Not a moral high ground.

So when I hear people say it's problematic because it implies that sparing imperialistic dictators has some intrinsic goodness to it, (Ahem-Lily Orchard), I just can't agree. It was never about universal ethics, it was about Aang's culture and values.

Why Is This a Good Thing?

Aang loves his culture, and takes a lot of pride in it and its values. (See: in The Southern Raiders his first go-to to convince Katara to spare Yon Rah is his culture, rather than what such act would do Katara herself). He would have been ashamed if he had broken them. But right now they clash with his Avatar duties, with god-knows how many lives at stake. He needs to let go of his pride & shame, and become humble.

Just like Zuko humbling himself to the GAang before they accept him, or Sokka humbling himself to the Kyoshi warriors and Master Piandao, Aang could only speak to the the lion turtle after he'd given up, after he was humbled.

Even beyond Aang, it enhances the show's themes at large. A theme in A:TLA is paving your own path, and that you can do what you want despite the pressure. Your true destiny will come, you might be surprised by it, but it's yours and you're free to carve it.

You just have to keep going, to continue to do the right thing, and your destiny will find you. Things have a way of working out in the end, eventually.

Sparing Ozai serves the theme, thus the show overall. Everyone told him it's his destiny to kill the Fire Lord and end the war. But he didn't agree, paving his own path, his own destiny, and all was well. The pieces fell in their place.

It is s amplified by the fact that if you read between the lines, he actually did follow all the previous Avatars' wisdom besides Yangchen's.

Aang knew what he wanted from the start. He isn't going to kill the Fire Lord. People (rightfully) tried to pressure him, but in the end, he stuck to his decision.

Justice was served. Aang took his bending away and put him to rot in prison for the rest of his life. There's more than one way to execute justice.

"... and the destiny of the world". That's exactly what Aang did. He followed his own path (staying true to himself) while saving the world (ending Ozai regime).

So that leaves us with Yangchen's advice. The one he didn't follow:

This opens another layer to this. Why doesn't Aang take the advice of a fellow Air Nomad? The one he should relate to the most? Because despite both being Avatars and Airbenders, Aang is the last. They're not the same. Yangchen is speaking from a place of privilege. She can carry the weight of the Avatar and not worry about the Air Nomads. Notice the wording: "spiritual needs". But it's deeper than that. In her time, they were there, they'll preserve their culture and values. Aang doesn't have that.

He's Avatar: The Last Airbender. He has both weights to carry. The decision to spare the Fire Lord, while protecting the rest of the world, is embedded in the show's title.

There's also something so incredibly powerful in Ozai being defeated specifically with Air Nomad values. A 100 years ago, during Sozin's Comet, the Fire Nation started the war by genociding them. When it comes back, the Avatar, the last Air Nomad, ends the war and stops the next genocide while preserving their values. The Fire Nation isn't going to push him to taint (one of) the last living aspacts of the Air Nomads, and Aang is shouting it – in the very same day the disaster occurred.

(Additionally I view this as a land mark of his character development since Siege of the North. He used spirit powers for murder, now he's using them for mercy).

(A:TLA is also a show made with kids in mind. They may not be able to make Aang kill Ozai. He got his bending stolen and sentenced to prison for the rest of his life. That's a more than serviceable punishment for a show aimed at kids).

(Ps: If Ozai had died Zuko would never have found out where his mother is).

The concept is fantastic. Nothing wrong there. But now, it's time for the critisism.

What's the problem then?

Despite looking in internet forums, it's entirely possible that I missed some things. With that being said, the Lion Turtles could have been foreshadowed better. As I stated, I don't mind it. But as far as I recall, it was foreshadowed once in The Library, and that's it. (Edit: It's also foreshadowed in Sokka's Master and The Beach, but the point still stands).

The Lion Turtle is a twist, it subverted expectations, but that doesn't mean it has to be a deus ex machina. That's what foreshadowing is for. It's the literary device to making a plot twist feel believable. The result is many fans, including me, feeling as though it came out of no where, even though it didn't.

Overall, I love that Aang spared Ozai. It ties into the themes of the show and Aang's role as the last airbender. It makes perfect sense, it's rather beautiful. However, I do wish the foreshadowing was better.

And for Anon, to apologize for the wait, I dedicate you this meme: