#more gifs from this source coming soon <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[celiastimgifs]

eye stress ball

source: 👁 (gifs) + 👀 (layout png)

[ghostgirl101]

writing for william afton?? Yeah sure I'll get craaaazy ヘ⁠(⁠￣⁠ω⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠) you can write headcanons of anything, really, I just want to hold this man and be extremely and overly affectionate with him (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠) (and and jealousy trope is so aaaaaa you can write something with that, right??? :33)

William Afton/Steve Raglan Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Yeap, let's start with obsessive relationship stuff, and then I'll work on a request for jealous headcanons. Hope this is in character, I tried to make it as accurate as I could with what I could work with from the movie. Requests for the FNAF movie are still open if you want me to work on a scenario; just make sure its no smut and platonic or childhood sweethearts for any of the animatronics/missing children 🙃

🐰• Well, good luck getting out of whatever craziness you've somehow gotten yourself into. That's the first thing I'm gonna say ._.

🐰• You probably meet William as "Steve," the careers counsellor who asks a little too many personal questions for it to be strictly business-related, but then, he's got to know who you are to find a job that fits in with your life and personality. He seems normal enough, though there is a slight intensity in the way his eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and his questions become more specific and a bit non-contextual.

🐰• By the end of the interview, he offers you the place of a nightguard at Freddy's, giving you his card with a casual half-smile and going out of his way to show you the ropes. Then you start the job, as oddly unsettling and dark the environment seems, and you think that it's the last time you'll hear from him.

🐰• It's not 😏

🐰• Steve knows a lot about you from your files that he went through before, and from what you told him, and he's got a good memory. He copied all the information down, storing it safely at home, going through pictures and any sources he can find about you in some unplaced interest. William's very calm and calculated, and there's no way he'd be found out unless he let it happen or wanted you to find out for yourself.

🐰• So until he's ready to reveal his dark side completely, which will slip out in little actions and hints when you spend time with him, he's simply Steve Raglan, the relatively normal careers counsellor who keeps checking in on you to see how you're getting on with the job, often going out for a coffee to give you "advice" in his breaks. Anything to pry out more information from you, for him to understand what exactly it is about you that intrigues him.

🐰• Is it because you're unusually pretty? Clever? Quirky? To William, you're just a bit different, maybe a bit childish, or mature and deep, dark-humoured? Whatever it is, it caught his attention, which is a good thing, if you want it... and if it's not, well, you're stuck with it anyway.

🐰• You'll notice quite early on that he's a bit odd himself, maybe a bit invasive, possessive, especially for someone you haven't known for that long. If someone looks over at you for a second too long while you're having coffee with Steve, having a conversation that's veered off of references and employee skills to some personal aspect or interest in your life that he's cracked open. You'll see a shot of something dark pass through his blueish gaze before it passes almost as soon as it comes, and you'll know nothing more about it except never seeing that person again. Just another missing person to add to a list.

🐰• Same with if you happen to be seeing anyone; he's got his own ways to scare people off, and if that doesn't work, he'll be forced to do something a little messier. Again, you won't know a thing about it, and there'll be no proof, no body, no big questions. Suddenly your partner has run off on a job out of the country or broken up with you via text... and Steve will be around to "see how you're doing" and to pick up the pieces when you end up spilling more about what's been going on in your life and exposing more vulnerability. It gives William a rush, in a way, to be needed and ran to and relied on when something goes bad, especially if it's you looking up at him with big pleading eyes. He can only smile and squeeze your hand, not letting go for a long moment as you get yet another drink and finally end up getting somewhere closer to a proper relationship.

🐰• Friends start getting a little distant, past lovers end up disappearing and little conveniences in life become more frequent. Wonder why that is?

🐰• Afton has a great memory, and if you tell him you like something in particular, your favourite show or book, he finds the exact thing by chance in the shop and had to get it for you, just to see your eyes light up and smile thankfully. Or he recorded a new episode of your series for you to watch if you come over on one of the nights you're not working, or he's just finished reading that book, come round to his so you can talk about it some more? He always finds a way to get what he wants, and when it's a person, victim or not, the rule still applies.

🐰• You may not be a victim of violence or murder, but he's got an obsession, an unhealthy desire to watch everything you do, everyone you talk to and in your life. He doesn't name a specific reason for it, doesn't think he needs to, doesn't see the point in it. If you ever catch on to that kind of behaviour, he'll just give you a warm smirk and shrug. "Well, because it's you," is his casual response, though you could swear there's something more behind his eyes. "And I care about you, you know?"

🐰• This is still William Afton though, and for all he can be surprisingly romantic and thoughtful when he thinks to be to see your reaction, he's a sadistic murderer and kidnapper at the end of the day... and it does start to show through. He can be manipulative as we see in the movie, and a bit arrogant, though I don't think he'd outrightly manipulate you. It's more your surroundings and the people you're with. Maybe he'll dig up some dirt on one of your close friends and put it somewhere where you'll find it and cut off the friendship yourself, exactly how he wanted it. And on the occasions when he gets his hands dirty with those types of people, he will get his hands dirty, and enjoys every minute of it. He taunts and mocks them until their dying breath, hating the thought of someone else holding your attention for longer than he can, which only causes more blood to be washed out of clothes and off his skin before you notice.

🐰• I have the idea of William watching you sleep deep in for some reason, since he's affectionate in his own ways, not majorly into PDA or clingy, since he prefers you being the one to run to him. But in the moments when you're not aware that he's around, like when you're sleeping. He'll trace calloused but featherlight fingers across your face, down from your forehead to your cheek and your neck. There's a beat of tensity where you might think he's tempted to do something extreme, something violent, but it passes time and time again. I think the only time William would be tempted to be harsher and forceful is if and when you ever found out about what it is exactly he does, and try betraying him. He wouldn't kill you, nothing like that, but he'd have to lock you away someplace safer...

🐰• But Afton will cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, it's just an attentive and dependent relationship that William will keep going for as long as he can, accepting any gesture of affection or admiration or any positive attention in general with open arms and a pleased smirk on his face. Life will be pretty easy for you, everything seeming to go your way, and his, he'll make sure of it. And when you finally uncover the truth behind Steve and meet the real William Afton, he'll expect things to stay exactly the same: bloodied hands, spring locks snapping, glowing grey animatronic eyes or not.

[abiiors]

midnight, car lights 🌃 // george daniel x reader

a/n: a second fic for the george bbf!au that's been plaguing me lately!! (a third one is coming soon). also happy 10 years of self titled <33 i'm scheduling this to come out at midnight uk time tihi

cw: none really, just fluff and flirting. maybe a very tiny age gap?? like 2 ish years

wc: 3.3k

“let’s go on a joyride.”

those words bounce around in your head like the dvd logo, said to you at 11:50 in the night—whisper-shouted would be more accurate. from under your balcony no less, like some fucked up iteration of romeo and juliet. 

so far you have failed to come up with a coherent answer for george who stares up at you expenctantly.

you lean over the railing, your curiosity piqued. "a joyride��” his words repeated back to him in a disbelieving deadpan voice. 

he nods eagerly. in his hands is a tiny heap of small stones—the source of the clinks on your bedroom window that had scared you half to death. when george follows your gaze, he drops the rocks hurriedly, dusting off his hands. 

“it’s a thursday night…” you point out. 

he clicks his tongue. “and you’re clearly not doing anything.”

your eyes narrow at his little jab. sure he’s right but come on now, he didn’t need to point it out like that.

“my brother—”

“is out on his ‘date’.” he makes a little face at that and you stifle the urge to laugh at how icked out he looks. clearly, some more questions that you need to pester matty with. but that’s for tomorrow. right now you raise an eyebrow at the way he cuts you off and finishes your sentences.

“my parents—”

“are asleep!!” his voice acquires a borderline whiny quality. “i checked!” he confirms proudly and before you have the chance to present him with further counterarguments, he throws his hands up in the air. 

“come on, little healy,” george’s grins a feral little grin, “scared you’ll get caught?”

you bite your lip, determined not to let him see your smile. it’s midnight, you’re in your pjs—an old ramones t-shirt and tiny shorts that barely come up to the top of your thighs—your hair is half out of your ponytail. in short, you’re the ugliest you’ve ever looked in front of george. 

meanwhile he looks like he’s just stepped out of an indie rock magazine—black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that hangs loosely on him and yet somehow fits perfectly and his beloved vans. at this point, you’re sure george could wear just about anything and still look drop-dead gorgeous. 

“only a little drive? i promise i’ll get you back home in one piece.”

truth be told, you had made up your mind the first time he asked. a slow tingle of thrill slithers down your spine. the goody two shoes who’s never even smoked a cigarette before he came into the picture. about to sneak out the window at 11:56 pm. 

“okay,” you mumble to yourself. the small smile you’d tried to stifle escapes anyway. “okay, fine.”

george grins and whoops silently, fists the air in triumph. it does something funny to your stomach–his excitement. 

“hold on a minute,” you tell him before making a mad dash to your wardrobe for an acceptable pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

the subtle nude lip gloss is inviting but you know it’s too much. he’s probably just bored on a thursday night and has nothing else to do. so begrudgingly you settle on a lip balm and brushing out your hair. 

it’s fine. it’s normal. and anyway, he’s not going to see you as anything more than matty’s little sister, so what’s the point?

another little rock clinks on your window followed by a soft whisper-shout. 

“hurry up!” the clear impatience in his voice makes you giggle but you look at the mirror a final time, smoothing out your unruly hair. this is as best as it gets. 

after all, this is not a date.

“can’t exactly fly out the window, george,” you respond drily as soon as he comes back into view. 

he looks around curiously, toeing the grass and pulling it loose with his shoes. you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, generating ideas that you don’t entirely trust… matty’s friends aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed—not according to you anyway—but once george gets an idea, it is downright impossible to deter him. 

“that looks good enough,” he mumbles but you catch it anyway, catch the spot his eyes are trained on and your stomach plummets about half a foot. 

“have you—have you lost your mind?!” you stifle your screech halfway through, looking at the boy in front of you like he’s grown two heads. 

george shrugs, looking the least bit bothered and points to the pipe next to your window. 

“it’s sturdy, look,” he gives it two firm raps with his knuckles. “and there’s the brick for you to grab onto. and i’ll catch you.”

the last part has your ears perking up. you look at him with a raised eyebrow. it’s only a floor. the ground below you is soft grass that’s regularly mowed and looked after. if you fall, the most that will happen is a bruised ass (and a bruised ego). besides, the alternative is to go your through the front door and risk waking up the whole house. 

“trust me!” he bounces on the balls of his feet, eager and impatient. 

george stuffs his hands in his pockets, veins on his forearms taut with tension. his colourful tattoos are a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. should you trust him? 

“if i fall—”

“you won’t!” he answers confidently. “i’m not going to let you get hurt.”

your heart skips a beat at how soft he sounds, mumbling the sentence more to himself than to you. a shadow of tenderness crosses his features, or maybe you’re just projecting. just a silly little girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. a cliché. 

“can’t let my best mate’s little sister get hurt,” he clears his throat. and your heart drops in your chest. of course not. to him you are nothing but matty’s sister. ‘little healy’. 

“’course not,” you mutter begrudgingly and grab onto the pipe.

george stands below you, hands raised, neck craning to guide your steps down the exposed brick wall. there’s taking risks and then there’s whatever the fuck this is. regardless, you have put a disturbing amout of faith is george and now there’s nowhere to go but down. literally. 

the last few feet loom between you and the ground. your sweaty palms almost slip and involuntarily a whimper escapes you. 

“almost there, sweetheart,” george murmurs. that word snags in your brain. all thoughts fly away, and before you know it, you’re missing a step, foot slipping on the rough wall. there’s a split second of panic, the beginning of a scream that dies in your throat as soon as you feel a pair of hands around your waist. 

warm, rough hands on soft skin. 

george, holding you up. 

you’re practically pulled flush against his chest, wide-eyed and flushed from the almost fall. funnily enough, the vertigo intensifies the moment you look up into his eyes. they’re just as wide as yours, mouth parted as if he was about to say something. 

for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still. the world around you fades into a distant blur as you and george remain locked in this suspended moment, bodies pressed close together, his towering over yours. his warm breath tickles your skin, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest.

"are you okay?" george's voice is a hushed murmur, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

you manage a shaky nod, finding your voice after a few seconds. "yeah, i... i think so."

george's grip on you doesn't waver as he slowly guides you back onto the solid ground, his hands lingering on your waist for an extra beat before finally releasing you. you take a step back, both to regain your composure and to put some distance between the two of you. 

"thanks," you mumble, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i don't know what happened there." you giggle nervously, unable to stare directly into his eyes. 

"no need to thank me,” he smiles, “just glad i was here."

the two of you stand there for a second, the weight of the almost moment hanging in the air. then, as if on cue, george's playful grin returns, diffusing the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"good to know i can make your heart race like that, little healy," he begins with a teasing glint in his eyes.

despite the heat creeping up your neck, a small laugh escapes your lips, the tension finally breaking as you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment. "you're unbelievable, george."

“right then,” he toes a small pebble, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “shall we?”

his car is cleaner than you expected. 

sure there are some receipts and empty plastic bottles on the floor, even a jacket in the back seat for some inexplicable reasons but it’s nowhere near the pigsty that is your brother’s car. 

“in you go,” he motions, casually holding the door for you. internally you’re grateful that he can’t see your flustered expression. 

it’s a tiny gesture, barely even a gesture really—just a boy opening a car door for you. but he’s not just a boy. he’s george—the boy who makes you mad beyond belief and annoys you with the smallest of efforts. the boy who makes you stumble over your words. the boy who is your brother’s best friend. 

“my my, george,” you tease to cover up your flustered silence, “manners. when did that happen?”

george rolls his eyes as he closes the car door behind you, and you settle into the passenger seat. you notice the faint scent of air freshener, attempting to mask any lingering odors from the cigarettes he no doubt must have smoked earlier. you glance sideways at him when he gets settled in the driver’s seat, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"believe it or not," george retorts, putting the car in reverse, "i do have manners sometimes. just don't expect it all the time."

another playful taunt crawls up your throat, about to make it’s way out of your mouth when george casually just does the hottest thing you’ve ever possibly seen. your heart is in your mouth as you try not to stare at his arm behind your headrest. george, oblivious to your freak out, focuses solely on reversing the car from its little hiding spot. his cologne—something warm and smoky—fills the tiny car. a space that is so overwhelmingly him that you have to swallow roughly every couple minutes lest you do something incredibly stupid. 

like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless. 

especially with how inviting his light stubble looks. 

instead, you pointedly stare out the window at the dull grey road beneath you. 

“scared?” he teases, misinterpreting your darting eyes. 

all you can do is shake your head. there’s no way you trust your ability to speak right now, especially as half of your brain is focused on not ogling his arms and hands. 

this was a mistake. this was a stupid, idiotic, avoidable mistake. 

“come on! aren’t you excited to do something reckless for once?”

you are, you really really are. there’s no denying it as the car finally maneuvers out of the parking spot and away from your house. 

you let out a silent sigh of relief. the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you take the opportunity to relax your grip on the seat. you sneak another glance at george, this time allowing yourself to truly take in his features.

his bleached hair is tousled—just the right amout of effortlessly messy, and his full pink lips only intensify the butterflies in your stomach. george is beautiful—from the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence to his jaw that tenses as he focuses on the road. all of it makes your heart race again. you can't deny your silly little crush, can’t deny all the times you have wished george was anyone but matty’s best friend. that you actually had the courage to kiss him. more than that you can’t deny all the times you’ve wished he would kiss you first. 

“where are we going?” you clear your throat, distinctly aware of how breathy you sound. 

george shrugs. “maccies, i think. been really craving some milkshake.”

and then he has the audacity to snicker at your gaping face. “a milkshake…” you trail off, wondering if hitting him on the head would be taking it too far. “sure, good to know i risked my life for your milkshake cravings!”

“pfft,” he blows air, taking his eyes off the road and training them on to you. “admit it, sweetheart, you were ready to, oh what was it? ‘risk your life’ for the thrill of it. don’t lie to me now, i saw it in your eyes.”

there it is again, the little flutter in your ribcage at the s-word. george seems so casual about it too, throwing it around like it doesn’t bother him whatsoever. and maybe it doesn’t, maybe he uses that on every single girl he talks to. the thought curdles in your stomach. 

“fine then,” you huff, turning back to the window.

the mcdonald’s is a flurry of people—drunk and high students looking to satisfy their munchies, homeless people looking for a cheap meal and shelter. exhausted employees handing out orders with a dead expression on their face. you almost feel sad, making them prepare two milkshakes at this ungodly hour. 

you turn to george who is busy studying the menu with the utmost curiosity. 

“strawberry,” he mumbles to himself then turns to you. “or no, wait. banana?”

you quirk an eyebrow. “strawberry is superior.”

“which means that’s what you’re getting,” he replies and goes back to perusing.

“if you think, for even a second, that i would let you steal—”

“so territorial, sweetheart,” he teases, eyes still on the artificially lit board. “fine. two strawberries then.”

george places the orders, giving the cashier his winning smile and handing over some cash. she perks up slightly, eyeing him through her lashes while george leans against the counter. a sudden heat burns through you, wild and unpleasant. 

heartburn, you tell yourself. the milkshake will fix it. 

or maybe not looking at george being flirty would fix it but oh well…

so you turn around, finding yourself an empty seat and leave him to bring over the drinks. 

minutes later, you almost jump out of your skin when george places the cool take-out container against the nape of your neck without warning. 

“real mature, george!” the shriek causes a few people to throw distasteful looks your way but he looks absolutely unbothered and oblivious.

“such a grump,” he snickers and motions for you to follow him. 

armed with your milkshake, you settle in the car once again. the car park is almost dead at this hour of the night and you wait for him to start the car back up, for him to tell you what the next steps are but george only taps tirelessly on the steering wheel. a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

tap. pause. tap tap tap. pause. tap. pause. it’s restless and rhytmless; not like his usual tapping where he’s lost in own tune. his milkshake sits untouched, condensation dripping onto the dashboard. 

you wrap your lips around the straw, sucking on it noisely, sipping on the sweet, cool liquid while you observe him closely. “something’s on your mind.” 

your statement makes him blink. so you’re right then, something is on his mind. he’s more fidgety than usual. in the stillness of the night, his thick swallows and knee jerks are painfully obvious. 

“what’s up…” you trail off, unsure if pushing him would be the right move. 

“there’s this–well. i want to–”

“this is new.” the amount of glee in your voice should be disturbing to you but you can’t contain it. because it is new. 

you’ve seen george be arrogant and annoying, laddish and even on occasion, sweet. but you’ve never seen him be shy before. 

“shut up,” he mutters to himself, then sighs loudly. “okay fine, it’s better if i just show you.”

you follow his movements inquisitively, his imperceptibly shaky hands as he takes out his phone and opens up a non-descript recording titled track 11

his phone screen illuminates his face in the dimly lit car as he hovers over the audio file. the soft glow casts a warm, intimate ambiance, making you acutely aware of how close you are to him in the confined space. your curiosity and anticipation mount as you wonder what he's about to reveal.

"i've been thinking about this for a while now," he clears his throat, finger lowering to finally click on the file. "and i want to share something with you."

at first, nothing happens. all that comes out of the speakers is static and then some more static. but just as you're about to speak, the car is filled with the opening notes of a song—one that instantly tugs at your memory. It's a tune that you have heard before, at different points in time. it's the song that matty’s hummed to you on days you were ill in bed, a song you heard them play at band practice. it’s a song that george and matty laboured over for days. the one that brought you all closer together.

and now it sounds all put together. the final piece of the puzzle locked in.

matty’s voice is stronger than you’ve ever heard, adam’s guitar and ross’ bass sprinkling magic onto it. and then there are the drums—precise and clear and passionate. just like how george drums his fingers on his lap now, matching the beat of the song.   

when the song ends, there's a brief silence in the car. the weight of the notes and the sincerity in his eyes hang in the air, leaving you breathless.

"george," you finally whisper, "that was..."

“we finished it,” he smiles, looking down at his lap. “so we recorded it…”

“it’s…”

there you are once again, at a loss for words. almost certain that there might be actual tears in your eyes. 

“that was…”

“shit? derivative? lousy?” he tries to laugh it off, covering up a vulnerable moment with his jokes but you’d be damned if you let that happen. 

“perfect.” 

the words echoes around the car resoundingly. there’s no challenging your opinion. the song is perfect.

“and you listen to me once and for all george daniel, if you call that song names in front of me one more time, if i hear you call it shit and derivitive and lousy again—”

before you can finish your sentence, george leans forward, crashing his lips onto yours. there’s a crackle of electricity in the air around you, the slowing down of time as if you’re having an out-of-body experience. as if you are a fly on the wall watching two people giving into the magnetic pull between them. but george cups your cheek with his hand and you jolt back into your body. 

his lips are cool from the milkshake but the kiss is searing hot, teeth clashing against teeth. your bodies trying to get as close to each other as possible despite the gearstick between your seats. george tugs on your bottom lip, smiling wide as if he can’t help it—grinning ear to ear.

by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily—practically panting. he doesn’t pull back entirely, instead he keeps his eyes closed and his forehead rested against yours. the grin stays on his face. wide and gorgeous and making him look so boyish. 

“um,” you start and break off into a quick laugh. 

"i've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” 

“yeah.”

with some hesitation, george lets go of your face, opening his eyes to look at you a second later. 

“damn, sweetheart,” he sighs again, chuckling a little. “this is turning out to be a great joyride, huh…”

lemme know what you think <33

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[thewordswewrite]

In the Spirit of Helping

Pairing | Anthony Lockwood x Lucy Carlyle

Summary | Lucy has been alone most of her life, having found solace in a single friend long lost she grapples with being taken care of again. She must learn how to hold on and be held.

Or five times Lockwood looks out for Lucy and one time she looks out for him.

Warnings | mentions of suicide, canon typical violence

W/C | 9.6k

A/N | I’ve loved Lockwood and Co. since middle school (I’m in college now) and I even have my first book signed by the author so this is a long time coming. The show really captured the books and I hate Netflix for canceling it so I decided to give us a little more than we have. -smoe<33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link 

One.

It’d been a tough case. Child Type-Twos were always difficult for them but Lucy tended to take it the hardest. Her listening was sensitive and her heart just a tad too big for the job.

While the team had been fighting off ghosts, Lucy’s senses had been overwhelmed by the cries of children. She almost couldn’t hear the boys calling her name over the cacophony of noise. Her own voice had soon joined the begging, hot tears streaming down her face to accompany the desperation. The memory of hands grabbing at her, holding her down; she just wanted it to stop , stop–

“Stop!” She yelled, thrashing around at imaginary hands. “Please leave us alone!”

Muffled cries of, “Lucy!” rang out from her left but she’d already dropped to the ground, holding her head in her hands.

Hands tugged at her shoulders, real ones this time, and she panicked. “Get off me!” She lashed out and the smooth metal of her ring caught Lockwood’s cheekbone, splitting it.

Lockwood took a second to compose himself before he approached her again, hands out and placating as if she were a wounded animal. 

“Lucy, it’s alright,” She noticed suddenly that she could hear the comforting lilt of his voice with no interference “George got the source. They’re gone.”

The ghosts had all been tied to the same source: a stuffed bear stored under the floorboards. Lucy threw up while Lockwood held her hair and George called DEPRAC to come to retrieve the source as well as arrest their employer. Lucy couldn’t help but stare at Lockwood as they rode home, the gash on his face tidied up by a medic but there all the same.

Her eyes bore into his–guilt and anger rotting her insides but incapable of feeling it. She couldn’t feel much of anything on the ride home, just a vague sense of what she did and what had happened. She was numb and it was only when Lockwood had finally broken their eye contact that she registered they were back at Portland Row. Languidly, she exited the vehicle, her rapier loose in her hand and a blank expression on her tear-stained face.

Lucy found herself sandwiched between two boys, George in front, keying open the door, and Lockwood behind her, his hand hovering over the small of her back. Her things fell unceremoniously to the ground the moment she stepped in the door and George jumped.

“Christ, Lucy, you could at least–”

“I’m going to sleep,” she announced and sidestepped an indignant-looking George.

“Lucy, how about we all have a cuppa and–” Lockwood didn’t bother to finish his sentence as Lucy was already up the first flight of stairs and working on the next by the time he managed the first half.

Lucy’s legs felt like iron, her body forcing its way to her room through the difficulty. She’d lost control again. She saw the way the boys looked at her: George and his sideways glances, Lockwood with a pity that gripped her heart and tugged every time she so much as frowned. How could she not though? Every day they experienced more than any person should in a lifetime and they were only children, no matter what Lockwood insisted.

More than anything Lucy was angry . Angry at her mother for pushing her into this line of work, angry at DEPRAC for letting kids do this job, and angry at Fitts and Rotwell for profiting off the backs of dead agents. Her hands clenched as she made her way to the bathroom overwhelmed with how dirty she felt. The eyes that stared back at her in the mirror were as dull as her mousy brown hair and the freckles that scattered her cheeks and nose were muddled by smears of mud from her fall. Tear streaks were running down her face as she scrubbed at them furiously, the too-cold water making her feel raw. Grey water swirled down the drain, taking the dirt and magnesium dust with it. 

Lucy noticed the hair on her arms had been singed as she removed her dirtied clothes similarly littered with burns and tears. The sensible blacks and blues of her wardrobe left much to be desired, George being the only one to stray into yellows and oranges but paying for it whenever he came out on jobs and ruined his clothes. The steam of the shower began filling up the small room, giving Lucy a reprieve from her reflection as the mirror fogged up and she stepped inside the scalding water.

As she scrubbed her body and massaged her scalp, Lucy felt the anger and sadness slip away from her, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Tears mixed with the spray of shower as Lucy silently let out the day. She was just wrapping a towel around herself when a knock echoed from outside the door.

“Luce?” It was Lockwood. “Lucy?”

Heaving a breath, Lucy wrapped her towel tighter and exited the bathroom just as Lockwood climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. Lockwood was now staring up at her, surprise coloring his face and a blush starting to burn his cheeks. Lucy didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed around Lockwood like she always seemed to be, instead staring down at his red-tinged face.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a step back down the stairs.

It took a second for her to respond, deciding whether to lie or voice a truth she hadn't dared to think on. “No.”

“Wha-” Lockwood blubbered, not expecting her answer and bounded up the last three steps to her room and walked over to where she stood. “Luce, what’s going on with you?”

“Honestly, Lockwood,” Lucy began, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m tired.”

Lockwood grinned, a look of relief flooding his face as he spoke, “Well, a good night’s sleep-”

“No, Lockwood!” She turned around exasperated. “I’m tired of being an agent, I’m tired of risking my life, I’m tired of being tired!”

When Lucy turned back to see the stunned boy behind, her she immediately wished she’d kept her mouth closed. His entire demeanor shifted, eyes not quite meeting hers and Lucy wanted to take everything back.

“Lockwood…” Her mind flashed to him telling her, “everything ends and everyone leaves.”

Lockwood gave her a rueful smile, his arms flailing helplessly at his sides, “I wish you didn't have to do this either. And you don’t but I’ll be here for you…George too–the both of us–if you decide to stay.” 

Lucy was suddenly all too aware that she was still only in a towel when she felt herself fluster at his attempted cover-up. “It was just a long night, I didn’t mean it. I’m not going anywhere”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, not looking at each other but she didn’t think Lockwood was convinced by her words. Lucy looked to the skull, its swirling green face taunting her as she wracked her mind for a way to tell Lockwood how much he meant to her when a yawn tore its way up her throat, breaking the moment. “You’re tired, I’ll let you go to bed.”

“Anthony…” She pleaded, not knowing what she would say if he stopped and he nearly did before he must have thought better of it.

“I want you to know, you mean a lot to us and we’re always going to be here for you,” He seemed put off by his own admission but added on assuredly, “I would be sorry to see you go.” 

Lucy wasn’t sure what she was feeling as she watched Lockwood walk down the stairs. She knew the boys meant something to her, they were all she had left; her mother never meant much to her, and Norrie ghost-locked back north was likely never to wake up. They were all she had and by some strange feat, that was enough.

Two.

Lucy’s eyes snapped open, her body stiff and cold as she lay staring up at the dark ceiling of her attic room. There was a quick moment where she felt the echo of being trapped in ghost-lock but when she realized she was aware of her surroundings, Lucy’s stomach dropped. For many, nightmares were the worst of it, but for her , as the dreams ended the terror of real life began. At least in her dreams, she could do more than just watch.

Her breathing began to quicken uncontrollably. Realistically, she knew none of what was happening was real but the panic clawing its way through her chest and into her lungs didn’t give much leeway toward logic. Lucy felt herself break into a cold sweat as a shadow moved at the edge of her vision. Ghosts glowed, she saw them every day; they didn’t exist as the void she was experiencing, hell even shades were different than this. Lucy felt a scream bubbling in her throat, waiting to be let out but she was locked still. Her body was not her own, a mind inside an unwilling vessel that was intent on destroying her.

Her muscles ached as she strained against them, trying to force any part of herself to move or latch onto reality, her anchor being Lockwood's necklace but to no avail. Quicker and quicker she was losing oxygen to her heaving, her hands begging to grasp at the invisible noose around her neck that was tightening by the second. She lay there, choking on the air that she was able to inhale into her burning lungs when suddenly, her finger twitched. Another and then another came to until her body shot up out of the bed and a scream found its way out of the lump in her throat.

Once again her vision was clear and the shadow was gone but the fear that had only just consumed her still lingered in the air, electric, leaving her paranoid. Tears pricked at Lucy’s eyes, not out of fright but frustration; she hadn’t slept well in weeks and she was growing weary of the constant fatigue she lived with. Between the nighttime cases and overall lack of sleep, she was at her wit's end.

Lucy pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes, willing the tears to stop until she could swing her legs from under her blanket and take the first tentative step out of bed. The dusty hardwood was cold on her bare feet and creaked quietly under her. She didn’t like to walk around at night, knowing that the noise could be heard throughout the house but given that she’d already been screaming, if anyone was disturbed they’d already be awake. She glanced at the dull green glow of the skull on her window ledge and grimaced.

Grabbing her sweater from where it sat in her laundry basket, Lucy pulled it over her head, not bothering to worry about the two-day-old tea stain that marred the front. It was her favorite sweater, often smelling familiarly like lavender and anyway, she had no one to impress at three in the morning. Her hand found the reassuring iron of her doorknob and cursed the house for being so cold; the older construction did not lend much insulation for the chilly weather that plagued London almost year round. For good measure, she hurriedly grabbed the knitted throw blanket George’s mom made off of her bed and wrapped that around herself as well.

She began to descend the stairs, being as quiet as possible, her hand gripped the railing and supported her as she skipped the loose stair that always creaked when anyone stepped on it. The landing was home to three doors, two inhabited and, she could only hope, undisturbed . Her eyes slid past George’s but she lingered on his despite her resolve not to. Shaking her head, Lucy continued down the second flight until she reached the ground floor.

Just as she was going to enter the kitchen, the sound of the stove lighting stopped her. Had she woken one of them? Her heart rate picked up and she couldn't decide who she’d rather have awoken. 

With a deep breath, Lucy pushed open the door and saw the clear outline of Lockwood reaching to grab a mug from the cabinet. She tip-toed in but accidentally knocked into a chair, startling the boy. 

“Oh, Lucy , it's you,” Lockwood smiled, a defensive hand still clutched to his chest.

 “What are you doing awake?” She asked but her voice was unprepared and it came out strained. She knew he needed the sleep just as much as her.

“You know, had to use the bathroom then decided on some tea.” He shrugged, gesturing to the kettle on the stove, mug in hand.

Lucy squinted her eyes in suspicion, “That’s my mug.”

Lockwood’s gaze flitted to the object he was holding and scoffed. “Well, it's hardly yours. Everyone shares these!”

Despite the feeling in her gut, he wasn’t lying; Everyone did share the mugs but that one in particular was different. That mug was the one she had bought specifically for herself after she discovered she was two gulps deep into George’s toothbrush cup. After that, she was deadly clear to never touch it, and to her knowledge they never did. Lucy felt a flare of annoyance, they knew that was her mug and here Lockwood was using it as if it was his, as if–

Her stomach dropped when she finally remembered why she was down here in the first place. That was her mug.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” Lucy sighed.

Lockwood’s head dropped, “Looks like you caught me.” He set down the mug. “What was it this time?” 

“Nothing specific, just shadows.” Lucy rubbed her arm trying to comfort herself and took a seat at the table. “Doesn't help when your brain won't listen to you. I know it’s not real but I can’t stop it.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled in remorse.

Lucy shook her head and stood, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. “Nothing to be done.” She moved around the boy, blindingly aware of their height difference when she had to strain to reach another mug. One for him this time. “What are you having?” She opened the tea drawer and pulled out an Earl Gray for herself.

“Just black is fine,” He said from where they kept the biscuits.

They met in the middle, Lucy with two cups of steaming tea and Lockwood with the chocolate-coated biscuits they saved for special occasions. Lucy raised her eyebrow in question and Lockwood shrugged.

“Don’t tell George and there won't be a problem,” Lockwood smiled and sat down across from her.

Lucy put the cups uneasily down, sloshing a bit of hers over the edge and burning herself slightly in the process. She hissed through her teeth and stuck the afflicted finger in her mouth. “You know he’ll notice,” She warned, noticing Lockwood’s eyes caught on her mouth.

“Yeah, but that’s a problem for later.” Lockwood chuckled, eyes flitting back up to hers and shooting her a grin before snatching a biscuit from the open sleeve and grabbing his tea.

They sat there for around half an hour just talking. Lucy nearly had forgotten what led them into this position at all and a warm smile donned her lips when Lockwood walked up the extra flight to her room with her to, ‘make sure you get there safely’. Her room felt warmer and she wasn't as afraid to fall back asleep with the lingering promise that he’d be there if she needed him.

Three.

Lucy felt extravagant. Because of their recent press and subsequent jobs, she could afford a new dress that hadn’t seen the bottom of the Thames. It was red and satin and showed more skin than any outfit she’d ever owned. When she had decided on it, the woman at the boutique exclaimed, ‘ If you're going to go red you must go red’ which scared her at first but when she pulled out the matching red heels and a brand new tube of red lipstick she listened to the voice in her head that was telling her to trust this woman. Lucy thanked the other side every day that she did. 

After an appointment at the salon, she snuck up to her room past a cooking George and oblivious Lockwood to finish getting ready for the party. Normally she wouldn’t get so worked up over some company fluff but this one felt different. Before, no one bothered a second glance at her, except maybe Quill, but tonight, after a freshly printed front page issue interview about her abilities, she intended to make a good impression.

Lockwood had pushed her to do the interview despite her protests, ‘ Think about the publicity, Lucy! What it could do for the company, Lucy!’ and so she agreed because Lockwood looked so hopeful, so proud . How could she say no? So now here she was, slipping on a black trench and tying a blue scarf around her freshly curled hair like a woman grown instead of one just barely leaving her childhood all the while trying to ignore the snide comments of a disembodied skull that lived in her room.

With one last look to make sure nothing would be ruined between her room and the party, she ventured downstairs. The boys were standing by the door looking impatient and she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s be off then,” She tried to sound nonchalant but she knew they would open their big stupid mouths and ruin this for her.

“Is that you, Luce?” George sputtered, sounding on the edge of hysterics. She couldn’t look at Lockwood so she walked right past them and out the door to the taxi. As she passed, she could see George shrug and take a deep breath.

Of course, the boys were both dressed in basic black suits and to them, this was nothing new but tonight was undiscovered territory for her. She still refused to look at Lockwood throughout the ride and she didn’t know if the silence was a good thing or if the ice slowly forming over her heart was a bad sign.

It wasn’t long before they reached Fitts and were exiting the taxi. Her heart thundered in her chest as they got closer to the door because that meant she couldn’t hide behind the shapelessness of her coat. Lucy had always been conscious of her body, having grown up with six sisters, it was hard not to compare. The woman at the boutique had said she looked beautiful and she trusted her before but now she was starting to think the clerk just wanted to make a sale. Her heart was in her throat when she finally took off her scarf and unbuttoned her jacket to reveal the full effect of her outfit. 

“Christ, Lucy, you look like a proper girl!” George exclaimed and Lock still hadn’t said anything .

She felt like she was on display for the world and all she wanted to do was catch the eye of the tall boy standing at her side. Lucy took a chance and looked at Lockwood. To her surprise, his gaze wasn’t on her but instead on the familiar necklace that lived around her neck. As if caught, Lockwood's ears went pink and he finally met her eyes.

“You look amazing, Lucy,” And he said it with so much sincerity both in his voice and in his eyes that she could do nothing more than believe him.

Her voice was small when she found it. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He said as if it was mad she expected any other answer.

She saw George look between them and shake his head. “I’m going to find the food.”

“I think I’m going to go to the loo,” Lucy’s smile was tight and Lockwood just nodded.

She looked around as she walked through the sea of people, noting many sets of eyes on her, and began to shrink in on herself. Quill’s eyes alone were easy enough to avoid but it seemed as if everyone was looking at her. Lucy quickened her pace, remembering the path she used last time they’d been at Fitts but an artful step right into it stopped her in her tracks.

“I believe we haven’t met. I’m Jonathan Davies, and you are Lucy Carlyle of Lockwood and Co.” The man held out his hand and in good taste, Lucy could not refuse.

“Charmed, but I apologize. I don’t believe I’ve heard of you, Mr. Davies?” Lucy asked as more of a question than anything else. It was Lockwood after all that kept up with this kind of thing.

“Please, call me John. But I don’t suppose you would have. I’m a part of the Fitts research team,” He looked it too, old and pale; probably from being cooped up in the library. Lucy made a mental note to apologize to George later for the thought. His smile was too gummy and his breath smelled of champagne. She wanted to leave . “And might I say you look gorgeous tonight, nearly a woman you are!” The comment made her smile waver.

“Not too near, though. Still a good few years away,” Lucy tried to joke but the comedy was lost in her discomfort.

“Oh, don't be like that!” The man bellowed. “I’m just trying to give you a compliment. You’re maturing and it looks good on you. What’s so wrong with pointing it out?” Mr. Davies bellowed and he was getting closer.

Lucy shivered and began looking for outs; her adrenaline strung her out like she was on a case and her mind was switching to fight-or-flight. Lucy did not tend to lean towards flight. She nearly had the thought to hit the man when an arm looped itself through hers and she jumped.

“I believe I owe Ms. Carlyle here a dance. Isn't that right, Luce?” The arm and the voice belonged to Lockwood who held the older man’s attention while she paused to collect herself.

“Yes! He promised me my first one of the night. You understand, of course?” Lucy tried to come off as apologetic but surmised she failed by the look on Mr. Davies’ face. Lockwood nodded to the man and as they walked away, arm in arm, she inclined her head to speak lowly. “Thank you.”

“Always,” Lockwood smiled and pulled her so she was in front of him. He took her hands and at her confused glance chuckled. “I believe I owe you a dance.”

“Oh, you don't have to,” She said, nervous as he wrapped her arms around his neck and fit his hands at the curve of her waist.

Now he smirked, smart-looking just like she hated. “But I promised you your first one.”

“You are being a right arse right now, Anthony Lockwood,” She warned, feeling teased. Lucy was vulnerable around him, stripped bare and out in the open. Now more than ever in that bloody red dress.

His eyes crinkled around the edges and the smirk turned into his mega-watt grin. “And you are looking absolutely breathtaking tonight, Lucy Carlyle.”

“Oh, sod off!” Lucy exclaimed, but her cheeks warmed and suddenly she was red enough to match her outfit.

They danced for a minute or two and she took the time to look past the boy’s head and calm down. She figured he could feel her pulse from where her wrists were touching his neck, by how hard her body was trying to pump the blood back to her brain so she could maybe form a coherent thought. She was suddenly pulled from her stupor when Lockwood spoke.

“I do mean it though. You look better than every other person in this room. I didn’t even know what to say when I first saw you,” His voice was low and only for her.

And here she was, Lucy Carlyle standing in a room full of people whose eyes were all on her and she didn’t notice in the slightest. The only ones that mattered to her at that moment were Lockwood’s. His eyes, and his hands, and his necklace all on her .

Four.

“And who might you be?”

The old woman before them was quite kind looking in Lucy’s opinion, though her pale skin and white hair made her look almost like a phantasm which unsettled her–not to mention the biting tone of her words. Lucy was not fond of the older generation that remembered a time before the dead came back, their holier-than-thou attitudes at the problem they thought they should be exempt from. Lockwood on the other hand was all smiles and unwavering confidence, making him ready to take the lead as always.

“I’m Anthony Lockwood and this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle. We’re Lockwood and Co.”

The woman seemed unamused with the both of them, eyes instead searching for something behind them. “And where’s your supervisor?”

Lucy let out a small huff at the question. More than a few of their cases had been booked by clients ignorant of their status as lone agents ignoring that small detail in favor of the lower-than-average rates they needed to provide to stay in business. Lucy didn’t see why supervisors were needed at all, the bumbling adults just got in the way of their work. It’s what drove her out of her hometown and into the gangly arms of Lockwood and George in the first place.

The rain beating down on their shared umbrella was slowly beginning to drip onto Lucy’s right shoulder and she scowled, silently cursing Lockwood for not bringing his own. He was always trying to be the perfect gentleman, Lockwood, yet he always managed to fall short in some way despite his efforts. Lucy took a moment to compose herself, shutting her eyes and standing closer to Lockwood to try and get out of the rain.

Lockwood’s face fell a millimeter before he went to correct her but Lucy butted in, annoyance evident in her tone, “No supervisors ma’am, just us . You said you’ve just moved in and were feeling uneasy?”

The woman gave her another once-over and looked to be getting ready to slam the door in their faces before a man appeared behind her with a coat in his hand. “Edda, would you just let the kids in so they can get to work?” The man was soft in a way his wife wasn’t but a permanent crease had made a home between his eyebrows though it had been the only plane of his face that hadn’t seemed to possess a wrinkle before.

“These are unsupervised children you’re letting into our home.” The woman’s face twisted as her husband helped her into her coat and handed her her own umbrella before she swatted him away. “Get off me!” The coat was an ugly shade of puce that had Lucy wrinkling her nose unconsciously and wishing she’d never accepted the job.

“These agents are here to do the job we’re paying them to do. You head to the cab, I'll let them know everything they need to.” The woman pushed past Lockwood and herself, forcing them apart and out into the rain despite Lockwood thrusting his arm towards Lucy to try and keep her dry. 

The man, whose name they learned to be Morton, told them how his wife had become agitated since moving to the house, the loud bangs they heard at night, and the ice-cold temperatures that seemed to move from room to room. Morton was distraught, insisting his wife had never been like this before they moved and that she was ‘a lovely woman. Truly.’ To Lucy, it sounded like a shade or lurker giving off residual emotions from their death which was–what she supposed–Lockwood had insisted: a quick case involving nothing more than a few harmless specters lurking around the property, no need to bring George.

Lucy and Lockwood were given a quick tour by Morton who walked with a slight limp in his left knee. Lucy tried to focus on the man’s limp rather than the incessant squeak of Lockwood’s shoes every time he took a step. Lockwood insisted on having his dress shoes resoled rather than just getting a new pair even with the extra cost and Lucy had laughed at the quirk merely days prior but now she was grinding her teeth. Finally, leaving them in the living room, Morton bid goodbye and headed out to his awaiting wife while the two agents got to work.

After setting up a home base in the living room, they’d searched all around the house but produced nothing. Lockwood was unable to see the faintest glow and Lucy couldn’t even hear a whisper. It wasn’t often both of their gifts failed them, the remnants of death often wanting to be heard rather than stay quiet as they had for generations before them. It wasn’t until Lucy got to the kitchen and lingered near the door that let out to the back gardens that she heard the distant cries of a woman. She ran a tired hand through her hair, fingers pulling at the roots at the notion of searching out in the downpour.

“Lockwood?” Lucy called out, “I think the source might be outside.”

She only had a moment of hope that Lockwood would call it a night before he rounded the corner, his eyes filled with elation. “Let’s hop on then! You first.”

As she turned, Lucy couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the look on Lockwood’s face. Of course, he would have fun trudging around in the rain. As soon as Lucy stepped outside, a gust of wind whipped the hood off her head and plastered her hair to her face. Lucy’s shoe– not her rain boot– squelched in the mud under her feet. Lockwood and her rooted around the garden of the old couple’s estate, pulling back thorny rose bushes that dug into her hands and trying to listen over the hammering of rain. Lucy felt her irritation boil over from where it had been growing in her chest when she managed to slip on a slick rock and end up hands first in the mud.

“I can’t believe you put us in this situation!” Lucy yelled over the pounding rain, “Really, Lockwood, it's like you don’t care about me at all!” She felt something solid in the mud and squeezed it tight in her fist, desperate for an outlet.

She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder, trying to work on grounding herself through the object in her hand, the grooves of the metal, the familiarity. Honestly, where did he get off on making her miserable during every case? He made her feel trapped. With a deep breath, Lucy closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts, focusing instead on trying to find the source and getting out of there.

“G-get….”

Lockwood’s unintelligible voice interrupted her from behind and she huffed.

“..out”

“Out where?” She tried asking.

“Hus…band”

“Your husband? What happened with–” Lockwood’s voice interrupted again and she snapped. “ Oh , would you bloody shut up, Lockwood? All you ever do is talk!” She screamed whirling around to look at him only to see that the scene had changed.

It wasn’t raining anymore, or even night at that. Instead, the garden was blooming with life. The trellis were bountiful with pink roses and light shone through a giant willow in the corner of the property. Across from her stood a handsome-looking man much older than herself. And she was afraid.

“All I ever do is talk?” The man asked deathly slow.

Lucy was sure she had no clue who the man was but her mouth was already moving. “Yes! You keep me trapped in this house, I have no friends, and you don’t even listen to me!” She was crying now and the man, her husband , stalked towards her.

“You listen to me woman, you belong to me now. You are my property !” Dolly’s breaths were heaving out at an exceptional rate. “Do you hear me? Mine!” Her husband was gripping her arms, his face mere inches from her own.

“Let go of me!” She pleaded, “ Please !”

“Listen to me, Dolly! Dolly!”

She felt herself slipping away, air caught in her throat. Dolly was frantically scratching at her husband's arm, trying to get him to release her through any means.

“I’ll love you, I promise –”

“Lucy!”

Lucy’s eyes snapped open to see Lockwood wrenching her hand open and snatching something from her clenched fist. Her lungs flooded with life, making her cough as her knees hit the ground; she was unsure when she even stood up at all but Lockwood was immediately at her side.

“Lucy, are you alright?” His shaky voice floated through the rain.

Any previous grievances she had against Lockwood had vanished the moment she looked into his eyes. “What happened?”

“You found the source,” Lockwood opened his hand and revealed a rusted locket covered in mud. Lucy went to touch it but Lockwood jerked his hand away. “Better not.”

Her mind went back to how she’d treated him since they stepped foot on the property and she winced. “Lockwood, I’m so sorry I–”

“No! Luce, it wasn’t your fault.” Lucy was poised to retort but there was a pure and unabashed look of concern on his face and she realized it had been a while since she’d seen his megawatt smile.

“She hated him,” Lucy started, “He told her he loved her and trapped her here…she killed herself.”

Lockwood looked concerned. “I think we should head back to Portland Row.”

They finished up at the house, contacting the elderly couple to tell them that the source had been found and disposed of at DEPRAC. The cab ride home was so quiet; whether from Lucy’s embarrassment because of her treatment of Lockwood or because he was hurt by her words she was unsure. It wasn’t until they were putting their gear away that Lockwood spoke again.

“I hope you don't feel… trapped here.” Lockwood was facing away from her when he broke the silence. “Especially not by me .”

“Lockwood, no .” She rushed to his side trying to meet his eyes with her own. “No, no, no.”

He finally looked at her and his eyes were sunken in, his face as sullen as she felt. “I know it was the ghost…but you were begging me to let you go. You were pleading that I let you leave, telling me you–you loved me and that you’d do anything if I would just let you go and I–”

“I don’t feel trapped here, I promise. You mean more than anything to me,” Lucy’s heart stuttered at her slip-up. “You and George both.”

Lockwood’s eyes flicked to the necklace sitting prettily around her neck and Lucy’s hand flew to it instinctively: a loan she was still indebted to him and went to take it off, her still-cold fingers fumbling with the clasp but he stopped her, gently grabbing her wrists.

“I want you to know the necklace wasn’t–wasn’t whatever that locket was to them,” Lockwood’s hands released her, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind Lucy’s ear then trailing a path to the sapphire that sat in the middle of her chest. “My father… it was important , and I just wanted you to know you’re important to me.”

Lucy smiled, “I know.”

Five.

A shiver rippled through Lucy’s body in the London rain as the week loomed over her like the storm she walked through. Long nights with back-to-back cases–all too small to send more than one of them–had Lucy disheartened. She pulled her blue coat tighter to her body and stuffed her hands under her armpits in order to get some semblance of feeling back in them. Her tights were ripped, her hair soaked, and above all, Lucy was hungry. It took one smell of buttered croissants swept across the street by a gust of chilling wind for Lucy to cross the street and make her way into the warm cafe.

“No weapons!” The clerk shouted as soon as the bell jingled on the door, not even bothering to look at her.

Lucy’s eyes immediately welled up with tears knowing what was coming. “I-I’m sorry, can I leave it at the door?”

“Let me be more clear: no agents .” The man’s sneer was accompanied by multiple sets of cold eyes looking at her from around the room.

It was something she was unaccustomed to but common in London. Though agents were often looked at with a strange sense of gratitude and more often pity in the country, Lucy noticed it wasn’t the same in the city. People thought them unsightly: the children with sunken, pale faces who were typically only out at night mimicked the sight of the dead they were employed to rid the world of. Though somewhere in her head she could understand the adults' aversion to her, in the moment she could feel little more than resentment for the life she was sacrificing to give them the security they themselves could not provide.

Lucy chuffed on her way out, slamming the door and knocking the bell off of its hook in the process. Not bothering to wipe her face, she blinked away her tears and let them drown in the rain as she walked on towards 35 Portland Row.

It was night, and raining, and she was alone. But she was an agent, and Lucy knew how to defend herself. Therefore, in the face of her reservations, she turned down an alley she knew was faster than the main road despite the absence of street lights . She could handle a few shades and lurkers on her own.

The rain was coming down harder then; her mind had wandered to the doughnuts on the counter that sat untouched when she’d left. Lucy was so caught up in imagining the argument between her and George when she inevitably saw her jelly-filled missing from the box that she didn’t notice the man that slank from the shadows until she bumped into him. 

Lucy ducked her head in apology and attempted to skirt around the man, “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t–”  Then suddenly his hands were on her with a grip that told her this was no mistake.  Before she could utter another word, the sharp edge of a knife sucked the breath from her lungs.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” He ordered, voice low and eyes darting behind her at the lit street.

Lucy tried to seem unwavering, after all, it wasn’t the first time she was at the wrong end of a blade and likely not the last. “I haven’t got anything,” Her voice shook and she silently cursed herself.

“How bout’ I take a look for myself?” He hummed, his hands skimming over her body, drifting across her waist, going lower, lower…

“ Please! Help– ” Lucy yelled but his hand was quick to cover her mouth and let the knife start to dig into her side. She thrashed around, trying to free herself from his grasp while screaming into his gloved hand in any attempt to get help. 

It wasn���t until she managed to land a well-placed elbow that Lucy was able to escape his grip. “You bitch .” The man sagged over but as Lucy moved to run, his hand wrapped around her jacket and a knife planted itself in her stomach.

She almost didn’t register the pain at first until the man wretched out the blade. The feel of her blood oozing from the wound was stark in contrast to the chilling rain and she shivered. Lucy’s hand moved to the wound and logically she knew she was going into shock; George warned them about it enough should they ever get injured on a case but now she couldn’t think back to even a second ago. 

The man looked from her wound to her eyes and sneered. Step by step he retreated deeper into the alley while Lucy stumbled out into the road, clutching her side. Her breathing was ragged as she frantically searched for anyone to help her though she knew the streets were clear because of the rain. Lucy knew she shouldn’t have looked but when she caught a glimpse of blood she couldn't help it. She felt close to hysterics; the blood wouldn’t stop and her teeth were chattering, from the rain or something else she didn’t know. She needed to get to a shop, somewhere that had people . Lucy’s vision was darkening around the edges as she stumbled towards the yellow lights of a restaurant two buildings over. She just needed to get there.

She needed to…she needed…she

- - -

It was the beeping that woke her, but the weight in her hand that made her open her eyes. The lights were blinding as Lucy struggled to open her eyes and the ringing in her ears made it hard to focus on the muffled arguing around her. She heard one final shout and the sound of a door closing before she attempted to move. A gasp tore itself from her lips when she tried to sit up. Her body ached and her mouth was dry but all she could do to ground herself was focus on the worried voice needling her brain.

“Luce? Can you hear me? Luc–” 

Lucy cut off the voice with her own raspy words, “Would you shut up?”

Her eyes finally adjusted to the lights and she saw the lanky outline of Lockwood standing at her side. Any other time she was woken up to the sight of him, Lucy was more than often annoyed but somehow, with the beeping of machines accompanied by the smell of alcohol in the air, he was a welcome comfort.

“Lockwood,” She breathed out a relieved sigh, studying his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes sullen, almost bruised looking, and his skin somehow more pale than normal. “What happened?”

“Let me find a doctor.” His hand found hers again, only giving it a light squeeze before leaving the room in his search. 

Lucy took the time to look around the room and spotted a vase full of orange and yellow flowers adorning the bedside table as well as a lone strawberry frosted doughnut left in a box meant to hold a half dozen. Based on that alone, she knew both George and his mother had visited at some point but as she looked towards where Lockwood had been it was as if he’d never left at all. His jacket was crumpled on a chair in the corner, with his tie folded neatly atop it and, given his appearance earlier, she could only assume he’d slept there.

Finally, she decided to give attention to the dull ache in her stomach and lift the blanket covering her lower half. Between the wires and tubes hooked up to her from all directions and having to wrestle with the gown they stuck her in, the endeavor was all the more difficult than necessary. When Lucy finally got a look at her bandage-covered abdomen she felt ill.

Her stewing was interrupted when a man entered the room, Lockwood hot on his heels. “Hello, Ms. Carlyle. I’m Dr. Stroud, I’ve been your physician since Monday night and–”

“Wait, what day is it?” Lucy coughed and Lockwood was quick to offer her a water which she gladly took.

“It’s Wednesday morning, Luce,” Lockwood supplied in a small voice. His eyes wouldn’t quite meet hers and she grew nervous. The angry blinking of the clock on the bedside table read 4:23 a.m. and she suddenly understood Lockwood’s state of disarray.

The beeping which she’d previously grown accustomed to had begun to quicken and she felt a sweat break out. “How bad was it?”

“Based on our limited knowledge Ms. Carlyle, we suspect it was a robbery.” Lucy nodded along, trying to grasp at the last thing she remembered. Shadows of a dark alleyway and the flash of a knife swirled in her mind but when she tried to imagine his eyes her head began to hurt.

“I remember a man and a knife…it was raining?” Lockwood’s hand found its way into hers once again and his thumb stroked the back of her hand soothingly. She motioned for the doctor to go on and kept her grip on Lockwood’s hand firm.

“You suffered a deep puncture that grazed the top of your liver and you lost a lot of blood. Luckily you weren’t out there too long before someone found you and called an ambulance.” The thought of herself bleeding out in the street forced Lucy to shut her eyes. “We’d like to keep you the rest of the week to monitor but considering you’re up and talking, I’ll leave you to sleep.”

Dr. Stroud left the room with a tight smile and Lucy looked at Lockwood. She’d been there for days unconscious, and Lockwood had been there at her side.

“How is–”

“You were… gone, Luce. You were white and cold and– you put me as your emergency contact ?!” He was incredulous, his grip tightening almost uncomfortably as tears welled in his eyes.

“Who else if not you?” She felt a lump rising in her throat. “My mother didn’t show last time and I’m not close to my sisters. You and George are all I have, you’re…” Lucy trailed off not sure what she wanted to say but knew it was too soon.

“Lucy, when I got that call…George and I rushed to meet you at the hospital. For days I’ve sat here and all I could think about was what if you hadn’t ended up in the road? What if you were in the alley and no one found you? What if–” Tears fell from his eyes and his voice failed him.

“What if I never came to London? What if I had gotten accepted to Fittes or Rotwell? But that’s not what happened. I’m here.” Lockwood brought her hand to his lips and all Lucy could do was watch. She, all at once, realized that it wasn't just her, wasn’t just Lucy who felt like the boy in front of her was her whole world, her whole future.

“You’re the one in the hospital bed, I should be comforting you ,” Lockwood laughed shakily and took a deep breath. “Luce, I need you to know that, no matter how far in the future, no matter the distance, I’ll always be there for you. You’re my family now…if, if you want.” Lockwood’s smile was unsure, hope gleaming in eyes.

Lucy sniffled, her emotions finally having caught up to her and smiled back, “ We’re family .”

Plus One.

The case had been cursed from the start. The day started out boiling hot, and Lucy’s usually protective extra layers were stuck to her skin by sweat but now, four hours into the case, a cold front blew in and a massive wind storm had been shaking the house all night. They were constantly unsure if the noises were ghosts or the storm and trying to use her listening had been all but useless.

They had been hired by the city to clear out a long-time vacant house, previously belonging to the lone heir before he mysteriously disappeared. It was uncertain if there were any ghosts on the property and the city wanted to sell so, there they were. She heaved the backpack up higher on her shoulder and a voice piped up.

“Watch it there, you drop me and I’ll kill all three of you.” The glow of the skull brightened on the walls around her. She opted to ignore it and kept on walking through the house.

“Alright guys, let's do one more sweep of this floor and I suppose we can call it a night.” Lockwood scratched the back of his head and George stifled a yawn.

“Lockwood, there’s been nothing the whole case and besides the disappearance, George couldn’t scrounge up anything about anything that would lead to a haunting,” Lucy was aching for a shower and she was tired of carrying around the skull all night because George insisted they bring it but declined to carry it because, ‘ only you can hear it, Luce. It would be a waste for me to carry it. ’ “Let’s just go home.”

“We will…just after we check the ground floor one more time, I–I have a feeling something is wrong.” He seemed more sullen than usual but Lucy attributed that to a boring case and long night.

“Whatever you say. I’m going to check the kitchen.” George walked off without a second thought and she let out a sharp laugh under her breath at the irony.

Lucy headed out, leaving a distant Lockwood in the living room and opted to traverse the dining room once again. The room sported a crystal chandelier, dust-ridden with time and fine silver and china still at their places around the table. Her eyes scanned over the room and she imagined herself in another life entertaining a slew of guests with not even a thought of The Problem on her mind. But then she crashed down to reality and realized that this was as close she's been in her life or ever will be.

“Lockwood, you seeing anything?” Lucy asked, despondent. With every look, the house was more ornate and lavishly furnished than she could stomach, obvious signs of wealth making Lucy grind her teeth.

“ You see something, northern girl?” Once again Lucy ignored the comments and continued on, simply huffing to herself rather than dignifying the skull with a response.

Of course, Lockwood failed to answer as he typically did when he was in the field and she sighed. With hesitance, Lucy trailed her fingers along the objects in the room, trying to detect any fleeting emotion or noise that could be connected but it was to no avail. There was absolutely nothing in this house that any of them could detect and Lucy was almost glad for it. A quiet night in a nice house was a relief that she needed, plus, they were getting paid, ghost or not.

Rolling her eyes, she trailed off to where she knew George was lounging in the kitchen and found him sitting at the dusty table gorging himself on the biscuits and tea they brought.

“Save some of those for the rest of us, huh?” Lucy chastised, snatching the package out of his hands. She took a seat across from him and took two for herself.

“Tell him he’s getting too fat not to share,” The skull laughed and she dropped him to the floor unceremoniously. “Watch it!” 

“C’mon Lucy, there's nothing in this house and you know it! Might as well sit and eat while Lockwood fumbles about.” He emphasized his point by grabbing back the biscuits.

“Where is he anyway?” Lucy stole the thermos as well and shot George a challenging look when it seemed he was going to protest.

George waved off absently, more focused on the food before him. “He was going on about checking the perimeter. I just talked to him.”

“I wish he’d take a break every once in a while. Between the three of us, I’m the only one with a normal work-life balance.” She chuckled leaning back in her chair and using the skull to prop her feet on.

“Yeah…normal.” George’s eyebrows furrowed and she threw her half eaten biscuit at him in retaliation.

The skull chose that moment to pipe up again, “There isn’t anything normal about the lot of you.” This time she kicked over the jar and George screeched on about being careful with the Type-Three.

Bored with the situation and ready to leave, she decided to round up Lockwood and get them on their way. “Lockwood’s been gone a while, I’m going to go check on him.”

Lucy stood to leave and she made it just out of the kitchen when a chill shot through the room and her breath became visible before her. She turned back towards the kitchen and locked eyes with George.

“George, I think–” She was unable to finish her sentence when the double doors slammed shut separating them from each other. Without thinking, Lucy grabbed the brass handle with her bare hand and yelped. The metal was so cold it burned her, the skin ripping where it froze to the door. Lucy bit her lip, almost drawing blood at the action and took her handkerchief to press over her hand.

“Lucy, what’s happening?” George yelled from the other side of the door. 

“I don’t know! See what you can find. The source has to be in the house somewhere for this to happen!” Lucy yelled back, still pounding on the door.

George sounded hysterical, his laugh high pitched and disbelieving. “Lockwood’s never gonna shut up about this after we get out of here!”

The wind began to pick up even more, blowing through the open front door and through the house. Lucy’s hair whipped in front of her face as she tried to focus on her listening. There was little more than the faint whisper of a man she hardly was able to make out.

Cliff…the cliff.

Lucy glanced outside, the doors still banging in the wind and made her decision. “Stay in the chain circle! I have to find Lockwood, you stay safe!” She yelled to George and turned for the front of the house.

Lucy drew her rapier with her good hand and made for the front door which was left wide open and banging in the wind. Using her forearm to guard her view, she creeped outside looking every which way for an incoming attack while yelling for her friend.

“Lockwood? Lockwood, where are you?” She tried to scream over the storm but her words were literally lost to the wind.

As she made her way further outside, she nearly tripped over something on the ground, the metallic clang catching her attention. When she picked it up, she held Lockwood’s rapier in her hand and felt her heart rate spike at the discovery. Lockwood was somewhere out there with no weapon and a ghost preying on them in a windstorm.

In the distance, she saw a figure moving farther and farther away in the direction of the ocean, a figure she could only assume was Lockwood. Her steps were quick yet strained against the storm and she was forced to sheath her rapier as it was getting too difficult to hold. She was closing in quick, just across the field and getting closer to the cliff's edge by the second, but he continued on.

“Lockwood!” She tried once more but still he seemed to be unable to hear her. “Lockwood, stop !” Her feet were moving faster now, breaking out into a sprint beneath her. She understood his unresponsiveness then, and the sudden activity once Lockwood walked off. He was ghost-locked . She was flying then, racing up the hill to meet him, the grass slipping under her feet and the wind doing all it could to knock her over. He was steps away but his cadence never faltered–the same one, two , of each foot–and she silently thanked the universe that, if nothing else, ghosts were consistent.

Her hands did one final reach as one of Lockwood’s feet went over and she grabbed the collar of his jacket, heaving him off the edge and back into her. Lucy wrapped her arms around his middle so as to not let him escape and began to yell, an action she was regretting as her voice began to go hoarse.

“Lockwood, please , you have to snap out of it! It’s me Lucy!” She felt him strain against her arms and held tighter, thinking he was still trying to throw himself off the edge.

“You think I could forget you, Luce?” Lockwood’s words tumbled out, unsure and attempting to be comedic.

“Lockwood?” She gasped out, wiggling out from under him to get a look at his eyes. When she was met with the familiar warm brown she’d grown to lo– she finally breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened?”

Lockwood’s eyes searched her own before looking away, a habit he seemed unable to break, and spoke. “He was all alone. No family, no friends, no one left.”

Lucy’s chest constricted in understanding. “Anthony…”

“He killed himself. Right here on this cliff.” His words seemed to choke him and she couldn’t help but bring her hands to cup his face.

“I need you to know that you are not alone,” Lucy brought his forehead to hers and he breathed in sharply, his pulse under her fingertips quickening. “I’m right here.”

His own hand found their way to hers, holding on as if a lifeline and he nodded. “You’re right here.”

When Lucy pulled back, she locked eyes with the boy before her again. They were softer this time but darted down to her lips in a flash. Her cheeks reddened when she noticed as did his in turn. Before she could think to do otherwise she surged forward, Lucy’s lips capturing his in a chaste kiss. It was a bit off and they were both chapped from the wind but it still had her heart pounding in her chest.

The boy before her had gone from stranger to family in the short time she’d known him. Him and George had become more to her than her family had ever been and for that she was eternally grateful. He had taken her in, given her a job, and protected her from everything a gangly teenager could manage. She loved him.

Lockwood’s eyes widened and he gasped. “Lucy–” His hands tightened atop hers and he leaned back in, kissing her slowly, reassuringly.

“You’re it for me.”

[screeblees]

Haihaiaihaihi!!!! I reallllllllllllly like ur Angry Yan x comfort reader drabbles!!! I'm someone you'd call an absolute night owl, and maybe even someone with a big mouth. I'm always up for saying what I liek and fighting people I think are dumb. (Verbally. Most of the time.)

At night, (if the day hasn't beat my ass) I'm an insane lunatic who rambles to herself. think of me like a cat. very judgy one. (but if the day has beat my ass and I'm crying on the floor i'm just going to sleep in my tears) (jk no tears cowgirls don't cry/j)

TL;DR: I'm a bitch and I like to yapp, but I love going insane at night and talking and rambling like there's no tomorrow. That or I'm out cold like ice. There's no in-between. (btw kinda willing)

sorry i wrote this at 12:56 am and I am sick so I feel a bit silly nyahahah just a little nayahah

MEOWWWWW bounCES OFF YOUR walls very politely.

If you can't make sense of my gibberish please tell me and i'll rewrite it later when i feel more sane.

Hii!! Thanks so much for the ask (and for the very polite meows and wall-bouncing :3)!! I hope I managed to correctly translate your stream of thoughts <3

Angry ! Yandere Headcanons here !

Sorry it's been a bit since I've posted!! I get pretty busy this time of year so I've been writing where I can!

But please still send asks, I love receiving them!! :D

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Angry ! Yandere who cannot help but be in awe of you as he listens to your extensive ramblings of your topic of choice, the two of you have all the time in the world after all!

❥ Angry ! Yandere who was initially worried your talkative nature would be replaced with a shell of yourself when he first took you as his, but very quickly - as soon as you woke up, actually - that that would not be the case and found himself thrilled to hear your defiant words (he would soon teach you, but this was a great first step in your adjustment!)

❥ Angry ! Yandere who cannot find it within him to be made angry by your words, (almost) no matter what you say - at least towards you, other people on the other hand are an entirely different story - even with your extreme lack of filter, which makes him more lenient with you than he would in other areas (making back-talk your only real way to be defiant). Although this can change at the drop of a hat if his mood is already rough, that forgiving attitude being nowhere to be seen even with that usually tolerance.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who immensely enjoys not needing to punish you - it makes him proud that the two of you have come so far since he first brought you here - his moods are made even better by your chatterbox personality which supplies him a near-continuous source of peace, basking in it.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who takes great pleasure in the sound of your voice, especially when he’s falling asleep while you stay up for hours, long into the night. Your babble like white noise or pleasant rain sounds for him (and only him) to fall asleep to.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who doesn’t mind if you stay up late playing video games or working on a hobby - as long as you can sit on the bed with him whilst doing so as to let him sleep on or near you.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who minds immensely if you are the type to get up and move around a lot, needing to be up and moving not only takes the sounds of your voice move farther away from his ears but it stops him from being able to loop his arms around your waist or rest his head against you - this will only end in you being tied up and unable to leave him, which may be uncomfortable but he’s too busy cuddling you to sleep to notice.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who will put his foot down if he feels your staying up late is having negative effects. He’ll disallow caffeinated drinks and tie you to the bed at night but if you’re still unable to sleep then he’ll go straight to the sleeping pills to solve this issue, having zero patience to try any more methods which he feels will be unhelpful.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who loves the nights all energy escapes you (naturally, without the pills) and you are left practically passed out wherever you had decided to sit that evening, leaving you very pliable for cuddling without the rope or bindings in the way.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who feels pity for his Darling when the struggles of the day come crashing down a little too harshly, leaving you teary and unwelcome to the idea of moving from your chosen spot on the basement floor.

❥ Angry ! Yandere who either just scoops you up from the floor, depositing you on the bed and joining you for a cuddle-fest or joins you on the floor with some blankets and pillows, ready to get comfy where you are. He hopes to provide an ounce of the comfort you provide him by the hour just from being in your near-presence...

[orionsangel86]

Subtext Glorious Subtext! A Dreamling on Netflix analysis in The Sandman - Part 7

1989

You've given me shattered dreams, but I know you'll come back to me...

Here's where we step into unchartered territory - what is a show to do when its source material ends 33 years too soon? Apparantly lean fully into the angst, pining, and misunderstandings tropes that all good fandom ships thrive on!

After the disastrous break up of 1889, Hob is clearly nervous about whether or not Dream will show up to the next meeting. In both comic and show, he calls out that he will still be there in a hundred years, and if Dream is too then its because they are friends. Dream doesn't answer leaving Hob to wonder whether he pushed Dream too far.

In the comic though, Dream escapes from his imprisonment in time, and is able to reunite with Hob, having spent 70 odd years contemplating his past behaviours and actions in his solitude, and evidentally makes the decision to meet Hob and accept his offer of friendship:

In the comic, they reunite with Dream reassuring Hob that they are in fact friends, and it ends there. The next time they meet in Season of Mists Hob states how surprised he is to see Dream before their next meeting. There is no hint in the comics that they had changed their once-a-century date to be more frequent.

But the show changes all of this. Dream doesn't escape until 2022 so he misses his date with Hob. Instead we get to see Hob grow more and more concerned as he waits all day for Dream.

Whilst Hob waits, they show the passage of time by playing a mix of popular 80s songs, and although I know the fandom talked about this a lot when the show first aired, I can't not bring it up here because it such a hugely important part of the 1989 scene. Song choices in media are always carefully picked out. Nothing is unintentional. Producers have to apply for the rights to use songs in their shows and get those songs signed off and it isn't always an easy process, so song choices are always significant. ALWAYS. They are one of the principle ways we can analyse media and theorise about what the creators are trying to tell us. Every song choice has meaning.

For example, in Stranger Things both Kate Bush's Running Up That Hill and Journey's Worlds Apart are important song choices which reflect the emotional conflicts and journeys of the characters in season 4.

Our Flag Means Death also uses modern songs in an exceptional way to support the story and the emotional journeys of the characters. Using Fleetwood Mac's The Chain at the emotional climax for the characters in episode 8 was a work of genius.

Whilst songs specifically about love, romance, and break ups aren't always used for romantic character arcs, using three break up songs in a row for what should be interpreted as a falling out/misunderstanding between platonic friends is... unusual. Outside of comedy where the song choice could specifically be used in a humorous way (for example an overly emotional lovers break up song used for friendships in comedy could be a commentary on how ridiculous and overdramatic the two friends are being, with them acting like dramatic lovers being part of the joke.) But the scene in 1989 isn't a comedic one. Hob is genuinely hurting and Dream at this point is imprisoned. The song choices are therefore sincere. The message in the song choices should be taken at face value.

So please dear reader. Tell me what you think the following is supposed to be telling us?

Song 1: She Drives Me Crazy by Fine Young Cannibals

I can't stop the way I feel Things you do don't seem real Tell me what you've got in mind 'Cause we're running out of time Won't you ever set me free? This waiting 'round's killing me

She drives me crazy Like no one else She drives me crazy And I can't help myself

I can't get any rest People say I'm obsessed Everything you say is lies But to me there's no surprise What I had for you was true Things go wrong, they always do

She drives me crazy Like no one else She drives me crazy And I can't help myself

I won't make it on my own No one likes to be alone

Song 2:Shattered Dreams by Johnny Hates Jazz

So much for your promises They died the day you let me go Caught up in a web of lies But it was just too late to know

I thought it was you Who would stand by my side

And now you've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart You said you'd die for me

Woke up to reality And found the future not so bright I dreamt the impossible That maybe things could work out right

I thought it was you Who would do me no wrong

But now you've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart

You've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart

From this empty heart

I thought it was you Who said they'd die for love

And now you've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart

You've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart

Oh, no, no, no You said you'd die for me Oh, for Die for me So much for your promises So much for your promises

Song 3: Keep on Movin' by Soul II Soul

Keep on moving Don't stop, like the hands of time Click-clock, find your own way to stay The time will come one day

Why do people choose to live their lives (lives)

This way?

No-oh-oh (Keep on moving) (Keep on moving) Keep on moving yeah, yeah (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) (Keep on moving)

It's our time, time today The right time is here to stay Stay in my life, my life always Yellow is the color of sun rays

I hide myself, from no-one I know the time will surely come when You'll be in my life, my life always Yellow is the color of sun rays

Keep on moving (Keep on moving) Don't stop! (Keep on moving don't stop, no) Like the hands of time (Keep on moving) Click-clock, find your own way (Keep on moving) To stay (The time will come one day)

No-o-oh (Keep on moving) Hey-ey-ey (Keep on moving) (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) (Keep on moving) Oh!

I know the time, time today Walking alone in my own way Extremely cold and rainy day Friends and I have fun along the way Yes we do!

I hide myself from no one I know the time will really come when You'll be in my life, my life always Yellow is the color of sun rays

Keep on moving (Keep on moving) Don't stop (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) Like the hands of time (Keep on moving) Click-clock (Keep on moving) Find your own way to stay, yeah (The time will come one day) Yes!

Oh! (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) (Keep on moving) Ah-hey! (Keep on moving) Keep moving along, moving along (The time will come one day) Hey-yeah!

Keep movin', don't stop, no (Don't stop, like the hands of time) Hey-yeah! (Click-clock, find your own way to stay) Find your own way to stay (The time will come one day) (Why do people choose to live their lives this way?) Oh-woh-oh Oh, why do they choose to live this way?

Yeah! Ah-hey! (Keep on moving) Keep on moving (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) No-woh-oh (Keep on moving) No! (Keep on moving) Keep on moving in my own way I know the time will come today (The time will come one day) Ah-hey! Yeah! (Keep on moving) Yeah-hey Keep on moving, don't stop, no) Don't stop Keep on moving) Ah-hey-ey (Keep on moving) Hey-yeah! (The time will come one day) The time will surely come one day!

Hey-yeah! (Keep on moving, don't stop, no) No-oh-oh! (Keep on moving) Oh-woh-oh (Keep on moving) Hey-yeah!

I mean... *gestures at all of this*

The way I interpret these songs is a very linear emotional journey. It's a narrative in itself of Hob's state of mind as day turns to night and he waits and realises that his date isn't going to show.

First he contemplates how he can't help the way he feels. The waiting around is killing him, he's being driven crazy by his feelings, he's obsessed. But his feelings are true, and he won't make it on his own without [Dream].

Next comes the heartbreak. He dreamt that things might work out, but his dreams have been shattered. He feels like he wants to run away from his empty heart.

Finally, he realises that life goes on, he's gotta keep on moving, because he has hope that the time will come when [Dream] will be in his life again and this time [Dream] will stay.

I don't think I even need to attempt to make this any clearer! All these songs are about love, either obsessive love, heartbreak, or hope for future love. This is the kind of shit Johnlock and Destiel fans would have eaten up back in the day. At this point in Dream and Hob's relationship, at this point in this half hour sequence of television, I am not sure how else to interpret this, which is why the conversation Hob has with the bartender comes across so bizarre.

Bartender: You waiting for someone?

Hob: I think I've been stood up. We had a fight, last time we were here, but it was my fault. wish I could say I was drunk at the time, but I was just an idiot.

Bartender: I've seen plenty of friends get into fights in pubs, even more of them laugh about later.

Hob: *chuckling* maybe in another hundred years.

We all agree how bloody bizarre this is right? I have to praise this bartender for not jumping to conclusions but it would have been far more natural for him to assume Hob was stood up by a date, a woman (this is 1989 after all) and instead given his apologies and said something like "Don't worry mate, just send her some flowers and be honest with her. She'll come around."

Why does he assume they are just friends? Being "stood up" is commonly used to indicate a failed romantic date. It just isn't a natural assumption for someone to make based on the information Hob gave him. Hob cleverly keeps his explanation gender neutral, so the bartender does too, but even with gender neutral language the immediate conclusion should be that Hob was abandoned by a romantic date.

But the natural conclusion would have prompted a clarification. A definitive from Hob on the nature of his and Dream's relationship, and for whatever reason, the writers decided they didn't want there to be a definitive clarification here. Just like how they removed all the references to canon queer characters in 1589 to avoid distinguishing them from Hob and Dream, here they made sure that Hob was unable to refute or deny any implication that he and Dream may be more than platonic friends. Instead they chose to go with clunky language that doesn't really make sense, all to avoid having to make clarifications. Sorry y'all, but thats some SPN writer levels of ambiguity layering and I ain't buying it *side eyes Neil Gaiman suspiciously*. What are those writers up too eh?

I did read an interesting meta on this that the bartender could have assumed that Hob was talking about a man, clocked him as queer, and spoken in safe language to avoid an accidental outing (1989 was a difficult time for the LGBTQ+ community) but I couldn't find it or remember who wrote it to link it here. I found that interpretation to be really interesting and certainly worth considering, even if it's not my initial reading of the scene.

The other explanation is that maybe it was an attempt to "no homo" what otherwise comes across as a failed romantic date. But if that was what they were going for, it was very sloppily done and in fact only called further attention to the very romantic implications of the whole scene at least from Hob's side of things. If they really wanted to "no homo" the scene, why not just have Hob tell the bartender that he was supposed to be meeting his friend?

Then in a totally new decision made for the show, Hob finds out that the White Horse Tavern is closing its doors for good. This adds a further layer of angst and drama to Dream and Hob's relationship that the comics do not have. The worry that should Dream ever decide to return, how would he find Hob if the tavern is closed? It's once again pretty tropey in that its yet another external force keeping our boys apart. Anymore of this and we start falling dangerously close to star crossed territory.

The 1989 scene ends with a distressed and sad looking Hob, with a hint of determination, leaving the audience expecting him to do something about this.

Then we get that final glorious transition, from the whiskey glass to the glass sphere holding Dream, reminding us all that no, Dream did not stand Hob up, he was in fact stuck in his prison. Dream looks stoic as always, but the glance upwards indicates that he too remembers the date, and is regretting his inability to be there to make things right.

That look then transitions seemlessly into the modern day, as Dream stares sadly at the ruins of the White Horse tavern. Which is where we leave this chapter.

Check out Part 8 for my analysis of the glorious reunion!

[fandomsforpotterheads]

Happy endings

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @crazyhearttragedy

Your house: Slytherin

Story:

Could you write a one shot with prompt list 21 and 33 with Draco Malfoy and a happy ending? thanks! If you don't want to, don't worry about it.

Prompts:

#21 (“I told you not to get too close to me!”)

#33 (“You’re crying”)

***

Although you and Pansy Parkinson shared the same house, you despised one another and were basically at war.

But it was more her then it was you, and that was all because of your relationship with Draco Malfoy, your Slytherin prince. It is true that in the beginning, you both hated each other with such passion but something happened that changed everything and what that was took you and everyone else by surprise.

Draco Malfoy could be for those who know him best, be the most complicated person to ever have met. He can come across as no more then a cold person, but he will eventually soften up when a solid friendship is in place. It was different with you, you’ve made Slytherin despite of being a muggle born and when Draco Malfoy found that part of you out, that’s when the teasing started. When Draco would tease, he would encourage everyone else around to do it as well. Yes it made you miserable the longer it went on, but you didn’t let that stand in your way for a decent school year and that’s what earned you his respect and friendship which would soon turn into something more. The day it all started was the very day that everyone, including yourself, got to witness Draco Malfoy defend you from Pansy. It was safe to say that Pansy was not happy about it at all and after she was confronted by him, she stalked away sobbing while saying to him oh how he never loved her. Draco was never afraid to speak his mind, and what he said shocked you.

“You never loved me!” Pansy cries, covering her teary eyes.

“You’re right, Pansy. But since when did I ever love you?”

Pansy looks up at him before turning her eyes on you, pointing a finger accusingly at you before saying:

“You’re gonna regret this, (L/n). I’ll make sure of it. Mark my words.”

With that, she turns away and when she was no longer in sight, Draco turns back to you with an expression of concern.

“You okay, (Y/n)?”

“Yes… thank you.”

One of the things you and Draco shared in common was that you were in the same year and was just about to enter your sixth year at Hogwarts together.

When you got to the station, you were over the hills excited to be entering your sixth year. After getting on the train, you notice that Draco had seemed to have change over the summer, and not in a good way. It made it tough for you to figure out if he was just as much looking forward to the new school year as you or not. Draco seemed more distant and somehow cold, and you didn’t like it.. you needed to know what happened over the summer. However, when you start asking Draco about how his summer was, he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so you reluctantly went to your next best source.

Pansy Parkinson.

Even though she was your rival, you knew that she would know everything Draco wasn’t telling and everything you wanted to know.

As classes were being let out for the day, you get the opportunity to push Pansy up against the wall a little, and when you asked what all she knew, she was completely honest with you that you almost wish that she wasn’t. You were just as disappointed as you were taken by surprise to learn that Draco Malfoy had become a death eater over the summer. After being informed, you attempted to go track Draco down for a talk, and it shouldn’t have been as difficult as it was to find him. You waited late that night in the Slytherin common room for Draco, but he didn’t show and that concerned you even more. The next day, when you still haven’t seen him around anywhere, you head down for the Great Hall to grab some breakfast with the rest of the school. Surely eating something will help make things easier for you and less stressful.

But you were wrong. You were eating something that tasted wonderful to you until you overhear the Gryffindors start talking about Draco being involved in what happened to Katy Bell. Hearing this was more mortifying then anything else, really. Not once did you think that Draco could be capable of doing something like that. Now after hearing all of this, your doubts started clouded your mind to where you couldn’t think straight. Since you were now having your doubts, you knew that you needed to find him right away and confront him about it. As much as you didn’t want to, you knew it had to be done, if it meant that you could help him leave the dark side. While all of this was on your mind, you almost missed Draco walk by you. You did a double take before getting up to follow him, and as you followed him, you see that Harry is about to have the same idea to follow. Seeing that you were already on it, you watch as he rejoins the Gryffindor table and digging into the meal with Ron and Hermoine.

As you follow, it didn’t matter to you that he had entered the boy’s restroom. You allowed yourself to follow through and watch as he leans over the sink as if he’s about to be sick, Draco seemed distraught and nearly devastated. While your boyfriend was standing over the sink, you were about to step out of the shadows before he quickly looked up at the mirror in front of him. You thought he had seen your reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, you realize he doesn’t see your reflection in the background of what lays behind him. You continue to stare until your voice boomed throughout his ears.

“Draco Malfoy!” He turns as you approach.

“(Y/n)?” He asks calmly.

Everything was stabled between you, light conversations until it all turned into a screaming match.

“You’ve changed, Draco. You’ve become someone I don’t recognize anymore, I don’t like it!”

“I told you not to get too close to me, (Y/n). But what did you do?!”

“When did you ever say that?!”

“I just did!”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s right, (Y/n). You really have no idea what I’ve gone through and what I’m going through.”

“Try me, Malfoy. You might be surprised.”

Having been called by his last name caused you to look up at you with a suspicious look on his face before saying anything.

“What does that mean?”

“I know, Draco! I know about the dark mark! Pansy had told me everything!”

Draco closes his eyes as if that would make all of what was going on right now go away, he looks away.

You didn’t want to know what he’d say next, as the worst case scenario would be with him ending the relationship the two of you shared for quite sometime now. You waited, but not hearing Draco say anything was driving you mad, and as you were about to say something, you hear sniffing. Looking back at him, you see that he’s crying, which is something you’d think that you would ever get to see. Not knowing what to say, you spoke quietly, keeping words short.

“You’re crying.”

What you did next was basically beyond your control, you hugged him as well as comforted him.

After for what seemed like forever, you both slowly pulled away, still holding onto each other. Neither of you wanting to let go. Being the person you are, you started talking and reassuring him that everything will be okay and things would workout how they’re supposed to, and nothing could/would ever change the love you hold for him in your heart.

“It’s going to be okay, Draco. Everything will be okay, we will make it work and it will all work out.”

Though Draco claims otherwise, his glossy eyes told a whole different story, so you continued on.

In the end, you both lived through your own promise about it being okay, it was more then okay, much more then okay. In the end was happiness and a future for you both. A happy ending was in store for the both of you.

Happiness and happy endings.

***

@fandomsforpotterheads

Request: open

Characters:

• Harry Potter

• Ron Weasley

• George Weasley

• Fred Weasley

• Neville Longbottom

• Oliver Wood

• Viktor Krum

• Cedric Diggory

• Tom Riddle

• Draco Malfoy

• Snape

[lcveaffairs]

(—) ★ spotted!!  KARTER WINDSOR on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 33 year old looks like MICHAEL B JORDAN, but i don’t really see it. while  the FORMER PRINCE / REALITY TV STAR / INFLUENCER is known for being CUNNING my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be UNRELIABLE i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song DOGTOOTH BY TYLER THE CREATOR  { he/him / cis male} - penned by IVY, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE / HER

hi luvs !!! i'm ivy :)) so happy to see you all ! please excuse my bad timing and bad impulse control , i just kept typing HAHA but can't wait to write with you !!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 :

name : karter antonio windsor age : thirty - three birthday : june 4th sign : gemini - gasp !! birthplace : london , england career : formerly , prince ! now . . . reality tv star & social media heartthrob !

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 :

soo for those who hadn't already guessed , karter completes the windsor siblings trio ! he was formerly prince of uk until a few years ago , when their parents relinquished the royal title & moved them all to america !

but let's take a few steps back. before all this , honestly , karter had very few complaints with his royal life. he always felt like he was made for a life of luxury and attention , and he'd practically come out the womb trying to charm those around him. he enjoyed his privilege and wasn't shy in using it , often grinning at all the house staff when he'd act up and asking them not to tell his parents about whatever trouble he got into.

the more stiff , less idealized parts of royalty didn't appeal to him , however. in fact , there were probably pictures released of him falling asleep during royal ceremonies & trying to escape LMAO ! it was w relatively selfish intentions , honestly , his thought always being why put so much effort into something that matters so little to me ? i wouldn't be surprised if his parents constantly had to wrangle him growing up !!

but his redeeming quality def was his charisma as i mentioned. though most can agree he wasn't the most poised prince , he was very approachable & generally not ultra uppity ? and for that , he did best in public appearances , service projects , etc. basically he was like ... i want you to adore me but not worship me !

anyways , when he got to america the best way i can explain it is modern giselle from enchanted HA ! like ... he was so overwhelmed w all this newfound freedom , not only from moving but no longer being a royal ? and well ... he went crazy.

karter wasn't even there a week before the paparazzi had pictures of him club hopping , dancing over everyone , and being an absolute mess !! sure , there were those who he knew were only talking to him for his status , but he didn't mind. in fact ... part of him liked how his title could make people's heads turn , for better or for worse. because at least they were looking at him.

i find it entirely canon that when approached by the paparazzi regarding his chaotic life he said - " if you want the royal story , read my parent's book ! but if you want to know the karter story , just turn on tmz ! i'm sure you'll find me there. "

yeah .... guys he's one of my most chaotic muses yet HAHA !!!

but soon the appeal of mindless partying wore off , and so did the intrigue of the former prince moving to town. he wanted more attention , and didn't want it to stop with his title.

so , in 2021 , he starred in a too hot to handle-esque reality show , very steamy & scandalous vibes ?? i probably don't have to explain that he had an absolute field day but ! it also blew him up once again , w him developing a new sub-set of fans who now knew him as reality tv karter , not just former prince karter !

on the show i imagine he was the epitome of this gifset , but also always saying the most off the wall quotable things during his confessionals ? and essentially became one of those people you love to hate.

so ever since , he's been wiggling his way into the mainstream influencer / celebrity culture for his own projects ! since he's done numerous modeling gigs for big companies , had small roles on several entertainment networks , and currently is guest starring as a returning contestant for the reality show he starred in !

he wanted to give acting a try but is lowkey terrified no one would take him seriously & they'd only gonna cast him for comedic relief roles. not because he wouldn't like it but like ... he would hate to feel like that's all he can do ??

fitness has always been incredibly important to him , though , and when he moved to america he had a desire to do something of true meaning that would allow him to generate his own income. his big project right now though is trying to open an exclusive gym in hollywood , where celebrities can work out amongst each other without the prying eyes of the public ! it's still in the works , but he's looking for help to get him started up !

so most of his own income has come from public appearances & sponsorships , and since most of that is getting saved up for the gym he's living relatively below his means.

his relationship w his parents has also grown incredibly complicated now , as he hasn't exactly been the model son of the year , and at the age of 33 is still making a life of clubbing and chaos. but more than that , he's been more distant from his parent's lately , as he feels close association always is going to group him as a royal and not as his own person ? so he's been more distant than usual , and he feels guilty as hell , but hasn't done much about it , either.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 :

I SWEAR i try so hard to keep these short and they never are ... here's to making sure i keep this personality section reeeal concise !

ok so i think i got most the obvious things out the way via his background , but as you can tell this man is a lothario !! full of charisma , heeeavy flirt , adores attention but doesn't know how to keep a relationship to save his life.

honestly though ... smarter than he comes across ! those who first meet him might think he's a himbo , because he can come across as pretty aloof , but well-meaning ! the truth is though , he is smarter than he seems , he just doesn't like to share everything w the public , but wants them to feel like they know everything. by " dumbing down " his image to a party guy he keeps the headlines about him predictable and frequent , but keeps them away from the things that truly matter to him in life.

in the romantic sense , though , he is horrid at relationships bc he a.) he doesn't want one b.) he can't tell he can come across as such an asshole sometimes by being so blunt ?? he doesn't want a relationship , and since he can be self-centered , doesn't understand that other people may ? he also sees himself as a walking red flag after all the news about him so doesn't expect those to approach him to be in the market for something seriously anyways.

part of him hates this , though , because he feels like he can't be taken seriously. numerous brands he's tried working with clown him bc of his background , and he struggles to make true friends in america bc he feels like they're all either clout chasers or just see him as someone to party with !!

that being said , he can come across as emotionally guarded bc he doesn't know who he can trust. but when he trusts you ?? ugh this man is fiercely loyal ! almost to a fault. bc on that token , he can be incredibly protective and will go to war for those he loves.

when you truly get to know him below his exterior , i would say he radiates golden retriever energy. very clingy & affectionate , dotes heavily on those he loves , as well as constantly poking fun of his loved ones in healthy doses.

when they first moved to the us , he had intended to adopt a german shepard who would accompany him on his runs , only to realize he'd said the wrong name when he asked them about the dog rescue. well out came this little yorkie and well .... he felt too bad to complain , and now he has a 8 pound dog named zoe who he accidentally fell in love with and yes she still accompanies him on his runs !!

sidenote i need to remind myself ivy u literally won't have anything else to write w people if you keep typing !! so i'm gonna stop myself here because otherwise i won't shut up !! pls i would love to plot w u all and i'm so excited to be with you MWAH !

𝐖𝐂𝐒 :

costars !! i'm keeping the premise relatively vague on purpose , but at some point in 2021 karter starred in a show similar to too hot to handle !! so i would love it if some of his costars were still around , esp if they had drama on the show ? or alternatively , someone who the show did evil editing on to make it seem like they had a rivalry when they were actually cool w each other !

roomies question mark ?? if this doesn't happen i'll probably have it be canon he lives on his own ! but tbh i could see karter being in the chaos spawn that is a content house ! probably 25+ leaning since idk i don't think he needs to be living up w people too much younger than him efjjefoijeoi ! but i think it could be so fun to have a hype house vibe except like ... they're all a little older and so it gives it a bit of a different vibe !

exes !! you'll soon see i love a messy plot so any sort of ex would be great. bitter , still a little in love , a relationship that never really became a thing , high school sweethearts ( if somehow they were in the uk lol ! )

current fwbs , messy or not ! he has both drama-filled and more tame situationships , so this could go anyway !

the one that got away ? i feel like there's max oooone person who karter truly thought he could love at some point or another. but maybe sh*t happened and they didn't make it out together. would totally love a more angst leaning plot where there could potentially still be lingering feelings but not necessarily !!

if there's any other muses from the uk , i'd also love to see childhood-oriented / long-term connections ! he's also probably much closer to them than most others in hollywood which would give a different side of him for sure !

enemies / frenemies !! i definitely think there's people who don't like karter and i would love to see some muses he has a more tense relationship w !! honestly he's drawn to people who don't like him bc he's ultra-competitive and it makes him want them to like him that much more. but on the other hand , maybe also someone he has a mutual nemesis-sort of relationship w , and who's twitter feuds are constantly making celeb gossip news ?

former tour guide also !! i assume karter's probably been to america at some point before moving , but regardless it was definitely a culture shock not only moving but to no longer be treated as royalty ?? so i think it'd be super fun to have someone who showed him the ropes around ( maybe even hollywood specifically for those who were born into the life ) , and grow close in the process ! we could also do flashback threads for this of their adventures if u would like !

any and everything else. <3 if i can think of anything better , i'll add it , but truly i love nearly everything & totally like just talking it out as well !! never feel afraid to hit me up bc if you don't have an idea , we can plot it out 'till we do !! <3

[hiyorisarugaki]

//happy new year, aini!!! we miss you and the gremlin on the dash sm! and hope you return to us soon safe and sound. i hope 2023 treats you so well and is a source of blessings and goodness for you and your family. and i'm sending special good vibes too. i'm so glad we got to get closer last year and you've been a wonderful and caring friend to me and i appreciate and adore you so much. you are a wonderful person, a great rper and an awesome hiyori! a true firework, keep rising and shining, my friend and here's to many more interactions this coming year! <33

// Mimi, thank you so much for sending this in. I wasn't in the right space back then to formulate a reply, but this still cheered me up during my darkest days. I think you are already aware of everything that has happened to me - the main things anyway - and knowing that I still had you cheering me on gave me strength and the will to keep checking tumblr even when RL was falling apart. I have just learned to accept the grief 2023 has brought and how to move forwards gracefully. It's the only thing I can do. I pray that you have a lovely year and you are secure from calamities. ;n;

[redheadspark]

Can I get number 4 “I’ll protect you” and number 6 “I came as soon as I heard-“ with Azriel please and thank you <33

Certainly! Thanks for the request Anon!!

Alive

Summary: Azriel knew you could handle a fight. He’s the one trained you. But that doesn’t stop him form worrying over you (Takes place after Wings and Ruin)

Warnings: small angst and fluff rolled together!

“Hold still!”

“I am holding still!”

“By the Cauldron, you’re not!”

Cassian huffed and groaned as you were meshing more herbs together into a paste, then making sure you had the exact amount of serum ready for his wings. They already were badly damaged, beyond damaged and barely hanging on his body. He was already smeared in blood and sweat, along with grime from the battle that seemed far deadlier than you ever anticipated. It was a war out there

Thankfully, you were in the medical tent not too far away and out of harms way. As the healer Illyrian army, you helped and healed those who were wounded are too close to dying. It was a heavy job to take on, but you knew what to do and how to save those who were savable. Of course some didn’t make it, but there was no time for mourning. Lives were in the line, and you had to be rational. That didn’t mean you were safe yourself.

Three of the enemy soldiers snuck far into your territory, attempting to take out the wounded and weak while the rest were distracted with the major battle on the hill. You had a few healer apprentices with you when they attacked the tent, thinking that they had the upper hand since no healer knew how to fight.

They were wrong when it came to you: The SpyMasters mate.

Azriel taught you all he knew with hand to hand combat, thinking it was wise for you to know self defense in this circumstances. Although at first he was reluctant to let his mate be in the healing and medical tent, if he had his way you’d be back in Velaris and out of trouble. Rhysand knew that you were the best Healer, apart from Madja who was too old for the fight and stayed in Velaris, and he needed you there at arms length Incase something were to occur. Azriel wanted to argue, but he also knew Rhysand was right.

Azriel gave you a passionate and get sensual kiss right before the battle, framing your face in his killing hands and making you lean into him all the more. You two were freshly mated, barley married when Feyre came into your lives and flipped it upside down. Azriel had to be on the frontlines, you knew that, but your heart pleaded and cried for hm to be next to you. He loved you more than anything, calling you his life and source of joy.

“I’ll keep them away from you the whole time, my heart,” he vowed against your lips as you pressed another kiss to his lips, “I’ll protect you, I swear by it,”

“I know you will, come back to me in one piece. Promise me,” you urged to him in a hoarse tone. Azriel nodded, sealing his promise with one last kiss before he took to the sky.

“Fuck! You had to make to hurt, didn’t you?” Cassian grumbled to you as you rolled your eyes and tightened the bandage with your criminal stained fingers

“It’s either tight or you’ll bleed out,” you replied smoothly, the moving to make sure the paste was ready. Once you started to get another bandage ready, the front flap of the tent was thrown open on such a force you could have sworn the tent was going to rip two. The sound alone was raw as you and Cassian looked. You gasped in shock and relief, seeing none other than Azriel with his wide eyes right on you.

He was okay! By the Cauldron he was okay!

“Az, baby!” You called out, Azriel scooping you in his arms and holding you tight against you as he grunted, you noticing the blood on his armor along with wounds and slashes against his skin. But he was alive, alive and well your arms as you two embraced like long lost lovers would.

“What am I, chop liver?” Cassian said in a groan as Azriel was kissing you hotly, still holding you up to have you barely hovering over the floor. Another apprentice went to tend to Cassian as Azriel placed your back on your feet, scanning your face and body for injuries. He saw your black eye and a slash on your neck, you taking in a long breath

“I came as soon as I heard,” he explained, seeing you tainted uniform and shaky hands, “They came here and place their hands on you—“

“They’re dead, Az,” you explained, Azriel’s eyes going back to yours in a second and they were wide in shock. You took his scarred hands, leaning him to the back of the tent and opening the flap. Out on the grass were the three soldiers, all dead with slashes along the necks and stomachs. Azriel inspected them, relaxing from seeing that they were rightfully dead. He then watched you pull out the two daggers from your holster on your hip, the very ones he gifted you on during your Mating Ceremony. Azriel saw the blades matching the sizes of the wounds on the dead bodies.

“They stood no chance,” you explained, Azriel taking the daggers form your bloody hands and gripping the handles tightly, “I was fine on my own thanks to my mate teaching me,”

Azriel paused, the letting the dagger fall to the ground on a heap. You gasped, watching him just toss them away as he the engulfed you again in his arms. You sighed, breathing in his scent and the mixture of soil and bliss on himself as he just held you

“I never wanted you to kill anyone in the first place. But…. Fuck I’m glad you’re alright,” he sighed in a tired tone. You knew the that he never wished for you to be in this situation, to have to kill to stay alive, to be covered in blood. You wouldn’t have minded, but Azriel wanted more than this for you. So you too hugged, damaged but alive in such a brutal aftermath.

“You two are so cute it’s gross. Take it outside, will ya?” Cassian said in a mocking tone brush you, though he grunted in pain. Azriel just flipped him off as he held you, you smiling and sighing in relief

The End.

Reassurance Prompts Founds Here

[earthxangell]

who is your soulmate + channeled love letter || pick-a-card-reading

Take a few deep breaths and let your intution guide you towards a certain pile. Choose a gif and read the meaning down below.  

Only for fun purposes. Based on information that my intuition, astrology oracle deck and tarot gave me + automathic writing. Take what resonates and leave everything else behind.

If you want to leave a tip (it’s not necessary but always appreciated): ko-fi.com/earthxangel 

Pile 1

Oracle: Your soulmate may soon experience Saturn return or already doing that. Big 3 in Capricorn or Taurus. Capricorn Sun/Moon, Taurus Sun/Moon. Saturn-Sun aspects, Stelliums or major placements in 2, 8 and 7 houses. Strong Jupiter placements. Pluto in 7th House. Abundant, reliable, responsible, organized, failed attempts at relationships or may have experienced rough endings or blockages when it comes to romantic partners. Care about their image and social status, like attention. Have business or a very stable & secure job, don’t have troubles with money. 

Angel numbers: 50(50), 2(2(2(2))), 52(52), 32(32), 7(7(7(7))). 31(31), 14(14), 11(1(1)), 26(26).

Tarot: Your soulmate had seen the world around them as pure restrictions and competition for the place under the sun. Felt like a survival show at some point or another. ‘The Hunger Games’, you may say. It took a lot of time for them to see that it’s not true & understand that they’re actually pretty free to do anything they want. So they did. They feel very lucky to have a harmonius and stable life. It’s a victory that they worked really hard for. If you’ve already met each other - they think that they won, when it comes to you. The fact that both of your give and recieve equally makes them feel happy and proud. It feels quite nostalgic too - maybe you had connection in the past life as well. They worry a lot about financial and material things - it’s the main source of happiness, security and joy for them. It’s very important for your soulmate to have a solid & strong foundation. They need to feel grounded & surrounded by material wealth, otherwise they’d freak out and won’t feel safe. They strive for a peaceful and honorable life when they get old so they could look back and see how much they have achieved and that they don’t have to prove anything to anyone anymore. They want to gain respect & attention from others. They want to be recognized for what they do.  

Love letter: “I love you. Sometimes I think these 3 words aren’t enough to describe what I truly feel for you. It’s hard to put my feelings into words as well so this is why I’m trying to show you it with my actions. I know that I don’t say cute stuff to you like those characters from your favorite stories or tv shows you’re always talking about but I hope my stable and reliable presence is more than enough to prove you my true feelings. I’m sorry that I don’t say ‘I love you” that much but maybe I should start doing it more often because I love how your eyes sparkle and shine when I’m doing so. You’re the most beautiful person in my life. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you. Please, don’t ever leave my side because I’m not planning to leave yours like...ever. You’re too important for me to do so.”

Pile 2

Oracle: Karmic relationship, past life connection, stelliums or major placements in 5, 8, 9 or 12 houses, big 3 in Gemini, Sagittarius, Capricorn. Venus in Libra, Pisces or Scorpio. Very spiritual person, religious, may practice some sort of a magic or etc. Very wise and likes to learn stuff. Know how to dress and always look good. Libra Rising. Sensitive as well. May express themselves through art, writing or other creative hobbies. 

Angel numbers: 36(36), 33(33), 44(4), 29(29), 32(32), 22(22), 42(42), 40(40), 21(21), 15(15), 

Tarot: Balanced & mature person when it comes to their feelings, they don’t like to lie about things even if it’s making a profit for them. They’re very honest & know their way around people - talkative, wise, have a great sense of humor and undeniable charisma. Likes to travel & see the world, even if it’s the nearest town from them - it’s still an adventure. Like to go on a walks, hiking. Very quick to take actions when they have an idea - otherwise, they’ll burn out and move onto another one. Busy, hectic, fast, impulsive, charming & curious about everything and everyone. Sometimes people judge them for their impatience & or stuff they’re learning or skills they may have or trying to build. Whatever the case - it can be bothersome at times but they’re quite motivated person when it comes to studying something. And when I say to you that they love to learn - THEY L O V E to learn. Really. It’s something that makes them proud and gives them confidence. They’re quick learners too. I’m also getting a message that they can work as a teachers or coaches. They may also have their own courses about spirituality/practice/religion they’re passionate about. Hard-working, carry a lot on their plate but don’t show their weaknesses. If it’s hard - they may share their burdens but still solve them all on their own. 

Love letter: “I’m sorry for rambling about my passions but I really appreciate how you listen to me with genuine interest in your eyes. You support me no matter what and I’m so grateful to have you on my side. I promise that I’ll show you as much support as you’re giving me even though it’s not something that you care about. And don’t lie to me - I know how girls go and learn football in order to be closer to someone they like. It’s charming and a very nice thing to do so but still. I’m surprised every time when I talk and you listen with an actual purpose of listening to me. No one has a ever done this to me. But you did and still do. I promise that I’ll be as supportive as you are. I love you. Thank you for being my fan number one.”

Pile 3

Oracle: Highly intuitive person, care about their family & house situation. Also about their image, first impression and body. Stellium or major placements in the 1st, 3rd and 7th Houses. Cancer Sun/Moon/Rising. May have spiritual gifts - they can be a tarot reader or practioner. Was born on the day of Solar Eclipse. Vivid and prophetic dreams, lucid dreaming, sensitive & empathic. Can recognize & interpret signs in their dreams very well. Their soul’s purpose is to uplift humanity and raise the vibration of the planet. Could have a spiritual account/or work as a spiritual advisor. Have a quite mysterious aura that is hard to deny when you look at them for a first time. Do not like to overshare things with others. Past life in Egypt or another ancient civilization.

Angel numbers: 37(37), 41(41), 12(12), 52(52), 44(44), 50(50), 16(16), 25(25), 46(46), 27(27), 31(31)

Tarot: I would say that they’re very calm & balanced person. It’s hard for someone to make them angry or mad. Their presence is really nurturing, you just feel so nice and understoon when you’re around them. They don’t like to judge others or participate in gossips. They like to help others when they especially need it and I’m also getting a vision that a lot of people come to them for an advice. Very mature, very stable and secure as well. Sometimes they get confused about world around them and feel like won’t be able to leave their mark on our planet. This is something that they care and stress about a lot because their desire to help others can have a quite large scale. On another side of this problem they shyness and thoughts that they aren’t qualified enough to make a difference. (Spoiler: it’s not true) What is interesting about this person being such a balanced and overall nice: they absolutely hate it when someone judge others for their passions and likes. They instantly move into a protective mode and participate in these conflicts because they can’t stand it. Like pretty bad. Your soulmate may suffer from inner conflicts as well. I’m getting that it was some sort of the trauma for them - for some reason, in the past they couldn’t express themselves the way they wanted. They felt ashamed doing something they loved and maybe were bullied because of that. But this past made them a really strong and confident person. They do not feel ashamed of themselves anymore and quite corageous to explore any area of their interests. They’re definitely a leader and inspiration to others as well because it seems that only a close part of their circle know about that. And the fact that your person survived from something like that makes them really respectable and loved. Plus, I feel like your soulmate also likes to participate in some sort of the charity. They may work or volunteer in charity organisations, donate to them (personally or through some price percent of their own services that they donate after).

Love letter: “Do you feel as though our meeting is not a coincidence? Me too. It’s like meeting someone who you knew for your whole life despite the fact that I’ve never seen you or talked with you before. My soul recognized you instantly - something about you made me never forget you after we’ve met for the first time. Will you count out the time that is left for us or would you look forward for the time that is awaiting us in the next life? Whatever the reason Universe had to bring us together - I’m grateful and happy to be with you. As a lesson. As an experience. As a lover. As a friend. Because my soul will recognize you anywhere and still would want to be with you. It still will search for you whenever you are in order to spend time together as much as we can. I love you. And it’s such a selfish thing of me to say but I don’t want leave your side. Will you let me?”

Pile 4

Oracle: Natural healer and highly intuitive person. Aquarius, Sagittarius  Sun/Moon/Rising. Incorporates spirituality in their daily life (meditation, journaling, shadow work and etc.) May work as a doctor. Emphatic, knows their way with romantic partners. Dreamer, great manifestor, embody their beauty and worth. Sometimes things just happen to them and everybody is wondering how is that even possible. Quite hard to understand them because they don’t like to overshare things or talk about their feelings. Tend to be idealistic about the world and people around them and can get really hurt when something happens to their ‘ideal’ image. Friendly, kind, likes to help and take care of others more than let others do the same. Despite being quite talkative & chatty, enjoy the silence and solitude with their whole heart. Likes to spend their time near water bodies and with the nature. Great with technology & sacred knowledge. An old soul, might receive information in the very odd and unsual ways.  

Angel numbers: 46(46), 12(12), 4(4(4(4)))), 21(21), 24(24), 40(40), 23(23), 30(30), 8(8(8(8)))).

Tarot: They have a really big heart. They care about global matters and it’s quite heartbreaking for them when they see violence, war or other problems that someone may face, while leaving in another continent. I’m also getting a message that they had a pretty rough past. Their parents may have been cold and distant and this is why it’s hard for them to deal with their own emotions. To express them healthily or honest with others. But despite all of that, they have no problem indetifying emotions of other people and feel them as if these feelings are their own. Very unique and very special person - when you meet them, you just can’t move away your gaze from them. They stand out so much that it’s very hard for people to not notice them. They do not judge others and are very open-minded person, curious and always ready to explore and experience something new. They’re very proud of their achievements and skills. They’re quite confident in them too even tho reaching some level of qualification can be pretty boring for them. They do not shy away from their responsibilities and are very hard-working. This is why their manifestation are pretty successfull. They just talk about their intention, let go of it and start working - they’re always ready to take a leap of faith and make first steps towards something they want. Because they understand that no matter what - they’re supported and guided. Even though they didn’t felt and thought like that before at all. Back then, they thought of themeselves as a victim of this big and unfair world. But not anymore. 

Love letter: “I wouldn’t even imagine that the day when I’ve met my second half will come but it did. I’ve never trusted anyone as much as I trust you, because no matter how understanding and friendly someone may look, there’s always something that they’ll never accept and never forgive. But with you I can be completely honest and myself. Sometimes I think that there’s no way you would approve this part of myself but you do. Every single time. And this is such a nice feeling - to talk without ‘inner’ filter and any fears of judgement from the person you love. You’re truly a miracle. I cannot express how grateful I am to have someone like you in my life. And I promise you - I will accept, support and love all parts that are you. No matter how ugly, bad and sinful they may look to you. Your trust in me is something that I’ll never forget. So I hope that you’ll share with me everything that you’re scared to talk about even within your own self.”

[dragonshifter-minecraft]

I posted 135 times in 2022

That's 101 more posts than 2021!

42 posts created (31%)

93 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@giant-tiny-squid

@oh-i-need-a-name

@leetlezeetle

@arc852

@bittydragon

I tagged 135 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 91 posts

#mcyt g/t - 75 posts

#tw language - 54 posts

#l speaks - 33 posts

#tw vore - 26 posts

#my writing - 25 posts

#mcyt - 22 posts

#dream team - 21 posts

#tw vore mention - 21 posts

#dragonshifter story - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 76 characters

#so i copied the text from this into notes and deciphered it letter-by-letter

My Top Posts in 2022:

(tw: vore below the cut!)

#5

Submitted by Anonymous:

“Hi!! I really enjoy the story you've made and totally forgot to send this when I made it (I think it was sometime before the second part was done) but this is just a little sketch I made based off the designs you made :0) Hope you like it and I'm excited to keep reading the story!”

Dude I am in LOVE with this. The accuracy of the designs paired with the beautifully detailed linework, it’s just gorgeous! also George’s grumpy little face is sending me

I can’t thank you enough for creating this, Anon!

14 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#4

Chapter 35 - Dragon Hunters

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2638]

[Content Warnings: Injury and Blood, Non-Graphic Treatment of Wound]

The dragons had both swiftly rushed in to snuff out the fiery monsters, all while more continued to ignite from the spawner. At every opportunity, the Enderfolk was loosing arrows that almost always met their marks, while the human would hold them frozen in place so someone else could deal with them. Before long, Sapnap had managed to fill the satchel with a couple dozen rods.

“Dream, I don’t think I can fit any more blaze rods in here,” he mentioned to the green beast, who had just been poised to strike as soon as the next wave of living infernos appeared.

“We probably have enough, then,” Dream mentioned, relaxing a bit as he knelt down further for the dark-haired man to climb up, “let’s get outta here.”

The blue dragon did the same, though his wither-scaled paw moved gingerly. It still hurt somewhat, but it also felt partially numb, and that almost worried him more.

“George, you good to fly home?” the other beast inquired suddenly, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I think so,” George hummed, standing as he felt Bad get situated on his back, “I have no idea where we came from, though.”

“I know the way,” Dream declared, unfurling his wings, “just follow me.”

Respective wingbeats sent the two dragons soaring upwards and away from the fortress, warm thermals rising beneath them and bearing them back the way they’d come.

The red, cavern-like landscape sped past on all sides. The flight was shaping up to be just as uneventful as it had been the first time through, though the group did notice a pale, ghostlike creature floating lazily in the distance, barely visible through the thick fog. It didn’t pay the pair of dragons any mind, which was probably for the best.

Soon enough, the giant black-bricked bastion came in view once again, and the two beasts took a sharp turn to follow the bend in the cavernous terrain.

They had just barely gotten past the crumbling structure when a thunderous roar rang out all around them.

George let out a startled shriek, jostling Bad as he faltered in mid-air, frantically trying to look around to see what could have made such a sound. Was it some giant creature that they had somehow missed entirely? Was it what Dream had really been afraid of in the Nether?

The green dragon had panicked momentarily as well, slowing his flight to drop behind the other beast as he glanced quickly around for the source of the terrible roar. To his ears, it was vaguely familiar, but it had sounded nothing like George. Were there more dragons nearby?

And then, the faint snapping of a crossbow string heralded a sudden pain exploding in one of Dream’s hind legs, something hard and sharp piercing through his scales and embedding itself in his flesh.

There was a second, terrible squall – and this time, it had come from him.

“Dream!” Sapnap shouted from his back, panic and worry in his voice.

“What was that?!” he distantly registered the Enderfolk questioning.

“What happened?” George demanded.

They needed to get out of here!

“Go, just go!” the green dragon bellowed knowingly, flapping his wings to propel himself faster, thermals be damned. “Back to the portal, hurry!”

He peered behind them as they sped away, briefly catching a glimpse of two humanoid figures – one appearing mostly beige and the other one light blue. They definitely weren’t Piglins…

Up ahead, the portal was a gleaming beacon of purple that shone through the red, ember-filled haze. They were nearly home! They just had to survive a little longer, and then they’d be safe!

George glided down ahead of Dream, landing somewhat shakily, but not losing his footing this time.

The green beast came down to land beside him, but as he prepared to meet the ground, white-hot agony surged through his stricken hind leg. His wings wavered as he tried to steady himself, flapping clumsily as he descended the last several feet. As his strength gave out entirely, he ultimately crashed down hard against the uneven crimson stone underfoot.

Thankfully, the human perched on his back hadn’t fallen off despite the rough landing, instead hurriedly scrambling to climb down and figure out what was going on.

Dream didn’t get up, his aching leg stretched out to the side to avoid aggravating it further. Streaks of red glistened in the lava-light as they dripped down the once-pristine green scales.

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15 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#3

Chapter 23 - Dragon Fire

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2355]

[Content Warnings: Fear | Brief Smoke Inhalation]

After the Dragonshifter’s disappearance, Nick couldn’t bring himself to pick up magic again. It just wouldn’t feel right, knowing the two of them had gotten so far, only for everything to come collapsing down. He hadn’t even told his family what had happened, fearing what terrible things they might say about Clay out of ignorance.

He had only been a part of Nick’s life for a little while. And while he still cherished the memories, time marched on. No more spellcasting. No more best friend to share it with.

He spent a while trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He’d considered the town guard, but he didn’t really want to be associated with the same people that took his best friend from him. A few other small jobs came and went, but nothing really spoke to him. Finally, he took up simple sewing and stitching. His mother was already one of the best tailors in Hearthview, and with his sisters picking up the trade in order to branch out into embroidery and dressmaking, he was in a good position to learn.

As his sisters found success, the whole family would end up moving to a few other towns, each with bigger and better opportunities than the last. One way or another, they ended up in Bronzechill. It was a fairly large settlement, and business was even more booming than it had been at the prior town. It was less than a day’s walk to a large city, Knightport, which boasted a rich and thriving market district. His family was ultimately aspiring to run a market stall there, or even better, a whole brick and mortar shop!

Nick helped wherever he could. He would help with a lot of the busywork, such as pinning patterns, cutting fabrics, and stitching seams together. That wasn’t to say the rest of his family didn’t work hard, though – in fact, they were probably far more involved in the process than he was. They’d poured their hearts and souls into their work, but he could never seem to do the same.

One night, after he had retired to his room and attempted to get some embroidering practice in before bed, he faintly registered a knock at the door of his family’s home. He didn’t pay it much mind. Sometimes people would stop by late at night to see if they could get a seam mended or a hole in their clothing patched.

From the other side of the house, he could hear his mother talking to someone. Everything sounded friendly enough, so he turned his attention back to the scrap of shoddily cross-stitched fabric, leaning back in his bed as he attempted to block out all of the outside world.

He would’ve succeeded as well, had the door to his room not suddenly been pushed open. Nick quickly sat up, raising his head to regard the person standing at his bedroom door.

His eyes widened nervously.

During his family’s several moves over the last few years, he’d heard many accounts of dragon slayers across the continent. They came and went wherever they pleased, slaying dragons for profit and for glory. These people were heralded as heroes, their names being passed around with the same reverence typically reserved for deities. Many villages had tales to tell of the slayers that hunted down the dragons that had attacked them for years, complete with the typical embellishment that came alongside each retelling, of course. Usually it was easy to disprove the wild claims, or at least figure out which parts of the story had been exaggerated in the telling.

And then there was the figure known only as ‘Dream’. Whispers of this mysterious slayer had spread far beyond many of the towns he had apparently rid of dragons, and the stories that came with them were very different from the standard tall tale. The slayer was said to wear shades of green, always had the hood of his cloak pulled over his head, and was never seen without his bizarre white mask emblazoned with a smiley-face.

But the strangest part of the stories was how in-line they remained with each telling. It didn’t matter who the account came from, they all seemed to match up in one way or another – where most slayers carried swords and bows, Dream carried a wooden staff, and he felled the dragons by magical means. Additional details came and went, about how he could bring down the beasts with ease, how he could track them for miles if they somehow got away, how he never let a single one live…

And now, that same terrifying slayer was standing in the doorway to Nick’s room, staring him down with that ever-smiling mask.

“Hello,” spoke the mysterious stranger, “may I come in?”

“Uh, sure,” Nick choked out, setting his work down as he hurriedly stood up, still unable to take his eyes off of the masked figure. He was in awe at the fact that the slayer he’d heard about in so many stories was standing before him.

But there was also a small sliver of worry twisting in his chest – after all, he’d once been friends with a Dragonshifter, and he didn’t imagine that fact would go over well with this individual.

“Nice place you’ve got,” the slayer commented, the end of his staff lightly thunking against the floor as he stepped forward into the bedroom. “Your mother said you and your sisters are doing clothing, mainly dresses. Your family seems very nice.”

Nick couldn’t come up with a reply, having no idea where Dream was going with this. The way he spoke seemed off, like there was some hidden intent behind his words. The way he carried himself was just as strange, appearing far too still and deliberate for it to be natural.

“…did you ever tell them?” Dream went on after a significant pause, his head tilting slightly, his body language unreadable and unnerving.

“W-What?” the teen asked, baffled.

“About your Dragonshifter friend,” the slayer answered with a slight edge in his tone. There it was. The one thing he’d been most scared to hear brought up.

“Uh,” Nick tried to stifle his shock and confusion, aiming instead for cluelessness, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t you?” the stranger’s tone lowered, and he leaned forward threateningly against his staff.

“Um,” panic bubbled to the surface as he struggled to find his words.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Sapnap,” Dream huffed.

“I-I really don’t—” Nick had begun, only for his mind to blank as he processed what the slayer had just said. “Wait. How do you…?”

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22 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#2

Chapter 24 - The Dare

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2527]

[Content Warnings: SOFT/SAFE VORE, Mouthplay]

[Once more, the following chapter contains VORE – feel free to skim, skip, or block the tags ‘tw vore’ and/or ‘extreme cuddling’ if this makes you uncomfortable!]

Something was wrong. The blue dragon hadn’t paid much mind to his wings at first, whirling and flapping after his target with reckless abandon, flames breaking forth from his jaws whenever opportunity favored. The art of flight was coming much more easily to him these days, which made sky-battles like this far less one-sided, and a lot more fun. But as Dream once again whipped around to slap at one of George’s wingtips with his own, the appendage suddenly felt as though it had been struck by lightning, white-hot agony surging through his whole body for a moment.

“Dream—!” he shrieked, faltering in mid-air, before managing to even out into a glide, but that didn’t stop his wings from hurting.

“What?!” the green beast called back, circling back around to steady his flight alongside George.

“My wings,” he whined, “they hurt…”

“You should take a break, then,” Dream replied matter-of-factly, “give your wings some time to rest. Why don’t you head back to where we left Sapnap?”

The blue dragon nodded, eyes skimming over the range before managing to spot the ledge where they’d left the human. He started to bank towards it, only to realize that the other beast was veering off.

“Where are you off to?” he questioned.

“I’ll be right back, gotta check something,” was the only explanation he got, before Dream gave another powerful flap of his wings to speed away, soaring toward the direction of Aureus.

As he slowly came in to land, he saw Sapnap perk up, quickly standing to move out of George’s way. At least the human had that much common sense. Pain flashed through his body once again as he gave a couple quick wingbeats to slow his return to the ground. Soreness pulsed through them as he finally landed, tucking them back up against his sides.

“George!” Sapnap exclaimed loudly. “Where’s Dream think he’s going?”

“He said he had to check something,” the dragon replied, rolling his shoulders in what was almost a shrug. At that, he settled down into a sitting position, deciding not to transform back right away. In the distance, he could barely make out the winged form of Dream, now a dark speck that could easily be mistaken for a bird.

In the midst of his staring, he was startled to feel something land on one of his paws.

“Wha—Sapnap!” he yowled, glaring down at the human that had jumped onto his right paw, lying splayed across the back of it and giggling like a madman.

George sat up slightly, raising his left hand and moving it closer. He’d been about to pry Sapnap off of his other paw, but he couldn’t help but pause with uncertainty at the sight of his dark gray claws. His hands were so much larger in this form. If he wasn’t careful enough, if his grip was too loose or too tight, if he just happened to twitch wrong—

He’d apparently hesitated for too long, since he soon found the human pouncing on his raised paw, grabbing ahold of the topmost finger and leaving his legs dangling.

“Cut it out,” Geroge hissed, lowering the paw closer to the ground so Sapnap could properly stand, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Make me!” the human retorted challengingly, whirling about to wrap his arms around the beast’s thumb, pushing against the ground with his feet as he tugged at the scaled digit.

George blinked, stunned. Was Sapnap actually trying to wrestle with his hand? He’d seen the human play-fighting like this with Dream in his dragon form before, but George had never even considered doing the same. It was far too risky, and he hadn’t had nearly as much practice at being so careful as the other beast had.

“C’mon, fight me!” Sapnap bellowed insistently, twisting his whole body as he grappled George’s thumb. It was then that the dragon realized the position that the dark-haired man had put himself in, and he felt the faintest spark of boldness surge up within him.

He promptly tipped his paw over on top of Sapnap, effortlessly pinning him.

“Ay!” the human yelped indignantly, though he was still laughing under his breath as he squirmed under the scaled palm.

George snorted in amusement as Sapnap shoved fruitlessly against the paw holding him down, grunting with the effort. He wasn’t getting very far though – the hand was just too heavy to move, even if it wasn’t exerting enough force to do more than hold him down. At last, he slumped defeatedly against the ground.

“Geoooorge,” he wailed, “lemme uuuuuup!”

“Hah, no,” the blue beast chuckled, before glancing back towards the last place he’d seen Dream, scanning the distant sky in search of where he’d gone.

The next thing he knew, he felt a firm pinch against the side of his pointer finger, and he reeled his paw back with a loud shriek.

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26 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Chapter 21 - Trapped Together

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2620]

[Content Warnings: SOFT/SAFE VORE, Mild Fear]

[Once more, the following chapter contains VORE – feel free to skim, skip, or block the tags ‘tw vore’ and/or ‘extreme cuddling’ if this makes you uncomfortable!]

With a flickering lantern in one hand, Dream had led the other two down the dark staircase and into the connected cave. Everyone was utterly exhausted after the prolonged game that Dream had sprung on them, especially George, who had not had the hour or so to rest that the slayer had, and was already feeling phantom pains in his currently nonexistent wings and tail. At least they’d all taken the time to eat dinner before Dream got his ‘reward’.

At the base of the stone staircase, the man in green rushed several paces ahead of the other two, setting the lantern down in the center of the cave before shifting back into his dragon form. He carefully turned around on the spot, settling down and letting his legs stretch out to the side.

“Hang on,” Sapnap murmured, reaching up to untie his headband and toss it aside, also tugging off the tunic he wore with orange and yellow scales sewn into it. He was left wearing his dark trousers and long-sleeved undershirt.

“You should take off those glasses, George,” the green beast added, “and probably your amulet, too.”

The other Dragonshifter tensed a bit, but regardless obeyed, pulling his tinted glasses off of his face and removing his fire amulet, setting them alongside where Sapnap had left his own possessions.

“Alright, who first?” Dream asked, glancing between them both. George visibly shrank back, whether he meant to or not. That settled that. “Sapnap?”

The human rolled his eyes, stepping towards the dragon. It wasn’t until Dream was about to open his mouth that Sapnap suddenly jumped and landed on top of the green beast’s snout, pinning his jaws shut.

“H-Hey!” the dragon huffed, having to lift his head a bit to be able to talk – and the dark-haired man was still holding on.

“Ooohohoh, you thought!” Sapnap goaded, grinning like an idiot and kicking his dangling legs without a care in the world.

Dream let out a playful growl, angling his snout downwards and shaking his head slightly to break the human’s grip.

As soon as he’d let go to plop back onto the cave floor, the beast was swiping a paw down towards him, which Sapnap dodged without much effort. The second swing came much faster, lightly bowling the human over.

Sapnap yelped, rolling to the side to avoid the clawed hand that came down where he’d just been, and he hurriedly staggered to his feet to face the dragon.

The beast’s jaws closed over him before he’d had time to react.

As quickly as it had happened, it was still an incredibly careful and calculated move on Dream’s part, if the tongue resting between the bottom teeth and Sapnap’s legs was any indicator. In any case, he found himself pressed gently to the roof of the mouth as the world around him tilted, gravity shifting to slide him entirely into the dragon’s maw.

He struggled halfheartedly against the tongue as it proceeded to slather him in drool, answered only by a deep thrumming note that rattled his bones. The human chuckled a bit under his breath, allowing himself to relax into the soft, cradling warmth. All the while, he was carefully lapped and prodded at with nothing but necessity and care.

As the rippling movements began to slow, he knew exactly what was coming, and he promptly stretched out and went limp. There was no need for any further communication – the two of them had done this often enough that it was basically second nature.

The tongue squeezed against him as everything turned sideways, and he was swiftly swallowed up with ease and sealed away from the rest of the world.

George was at first relieved that Sapnap had gone first, wanting to savor his last few breaths of fresh, cool air before he was inevitably shoved into a cramped, sweltering, and terribly muggy space, probably for the rest of the night. Though he couldn’t fully suppress his horror at seeing the faint bulge traveling down the dragon’s throat.

Even with the knowledge that it was safe, it was still rather disturbing to watch.

“C’mon, George,” Dream called softly, his verdant eyes gleaming in the light from the lantern, “your turn.”

The other Dragonshifter stiffened as he approached the green beast, his golden-brown eyes were lowered towards the floor as he attempted to hide how scared he was. The dragon bent his head down, letting out a gentle rumble in an effort to reassure his friend.

“How do you wanna do this?” he asked. George looked up, surprised. Dream went on after a pause, “I could let you climb in on your own, or I could put you in, myself.”

“I think… I think I’ll crawl in,” the other Dragonshifter managed to choke out. The beast offered him a concerned look, but nevertheless rested his chin against the stone floor, stretching his jaws wide.

He’d had to shove down the wave of instinctual terror the moment he spotted the massive, glistening fangs, resisting every part of his being that was telling him to run as far and as fast as he could. For several seconds, he couldn’t even move, paralyzed with indecision and dread – it was a wonder he didn’t pass out.

But at last, as the dragon patiently continued to hold still, George made up his mind and approached warily.

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30 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

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[chipper-smol]

Feral Vessel Chain 3

Starting Prompt:

Feral meets the Radiance in a dream and nearly becomes infected before Hollow saves them

I’m putting everything under a readmoree cause these posts are gonna be LOOONG

( @a-hollow-vessel )

Time travel was something finicky. Something that they didn’t quite understand. The vessel would pace the hallway, mind buzzing with a million thoughts. Each and everyone reminding them of how different they were from their sibling, the Pure Vessel.

...Seeing them up close, seeing how their eyes did not yet dance with orange.. It was surreal, something to get used to. Though Ghost knew that their time here was… Limited, at least with their sibling. Their sibling was still to be shipped off to their fate. Nothing they did seemed to stop it. They were a piece of this complicated puzzle now, more than before, and yet, they were oh so helpless.

Their sibling trained, sometimes sparred with them. Did not show a wink of feeling, despite Ghost knowing that it was there. They knew that it had to be. This only stirred the animosity that they towards their father.

They made it their goal to make their father’s life a living hell. And, whilst they mostly succeeded, it was growing difficult to plan their shenanigans. Something felt off. They.. Could feel the presence of Her. They started seeing orange in their usually mundane dreams. Heard that chime in their head.. Which, well, set them on edge certainly. Sleeping now would be dangerous. Sleepless nights became commonplace, each rest they saw more and more of the same dream, felt a sick sluggishness in their chest. Perhaps they had bitten off a bit more than they could chew, stepping in between two higher beings in their strife. The Radiance must have caught onto whatever had caused this.. Time leap, they supposed. They would huff in frustration.. This was no issue that a nail could solve. …

Hollow witnessed their sibling spacing out periodically. They did not acknowledge it, not purposefully. They were the Pure Vessel, after all. To do such a thing would be… Inane. …

This was the longest they had witnessed their sibling stare out into space. Four minutes, 33 seconds. Counting was an impulse, one that they reluctantly allowed themself to keep. It felt like the only thing that kept them from thinking about other things, which strictly was not permitted if they wanted to be of any use. Concern, that was what they were feeling. It brewed inside them like an awful sickness that they wanted to be rid of. They would clutch at their chest beneath their robes, not wanting the sign of imperfection to be seen. But something with Ghost was wrong. And they did not know how to fix it, rather, they could not. Their father could… But their sibling seemed to have a very big dislike towards him, for reasons that Hollow could not fathom.

Their sibling showed this through the pranks they seemed to pull, even when they seemed to droop from tiredness. Why were they so tired all of the time? It was a question that plagued their supposedly questionless mind.

…

Ghost tried to ignore these things. They didn’t have a dream nail, which they viewed as their only way to fix anything relating to the Radiance. It was much more fun to make the Pale King’s life hell. Whilst their sparse dreams grew more and more like what they had heard the infected dreamed of, before it all went downhill.

===

A few weeks into this dreary routine, they would awaken from a slumber with a start. Ghost blinked, letting out a silent breath. Their dream, orange and yellow and full of sickeningly warm light. Yet, yet, yet, their vision was still tinged with it. Their head ached dully, their hands shook. Sluggishly, they would bring themself to their feet and slide out of bed. Ghost landed on the cold floor and would lean one arm against their bed.

Their vision burned, they would blink and stare at the orange. A cold panic coursed through them as they realized that, indeed, the orange tinge was not going away. Ghost would reach a hand up, ghosting it over their vision with a trembling sigh.

This was outside of their control, they felt so helpless. It was.. Hard to focus, but they knew that they couldn’t stick around any longer, risk getting anyone sick, despite how much they despised them. The retainers and citizens did not deserve to be infected and die because of their stubbornness, even they knew that Ghost would lift up their nail, and stare down at the orange tinted metal of it. They felt the weight of it in their hands, before casting it aside. No, no, they did not want to.. Accidentally harm anybody. They took nothing with them as they fled from their room, down the long halls and the courtyard. Out. Hoping that no one had seen them. They would… They did not know, there was no plan in their mind other than not spreading the infection from inside the very palace.

…

Where did they go? Another question that they could not stop thinking about. Why did their sibling suddenly leave in the night?... What was that orange glow in their eyes? Hollow would stare down the hallway they guarded, waiting for their father to come back.. They needed orders to go, didn’t they?.. They could not go without prompting, they were the Pure Vessel. Even if the concern they held for their sibling weighed even more heavily on them than the cloak on their back, even holding all that it signified.

They mustn’t. But… They were to protect their family and the king. And all of the citizens of Hallownest. That order, it extended to their sibling, did it not?.. Who were they to question…

They would leave, clutching their nail tightly to provide themself the slightest bit of comfort. Their mind was surprisingly.. Not empty, as they tried and strived for. Only, worries for their sibling. This was so out of character, clearly they needed their help. Hollow would provide, it was their duty to do so. Hollow took a breath, not visibly moving outwardly. Then, they would begin their march out of the hallway. They did not know where Ghost had gone, but they had to look for them. To find them.. This entire situation was giving them a bad feeling. How they.. Wished. They wished they had a voice to call to their sibling…

Farther and farther they walked, guided namely by the faint presence of their sibling. Some sort of connection between the two of them.. Something that they thought disproved their emptiness.

…

…

…

Ghost walked, until they felt too dizzy to continue. Their limbs felt sluggish. They were so.. tired, and perhaps a bit overheated. A fever swirling in their head, yet they felt oddly… Clear headed. In such a way that made it hard to think. It was an oxymoron of sensations that they couldn’t describe. They would collapse into a sit, right next to the hot spring which they had subconsciously guided themself to. They listened to the sound of water gently swaying, trickling around rocks. Vision focused and unfocused on the steam.

Thud. They fell onto their back lightly, hitting the back of their head against the stone floor, but they really weren’t bothered by this.

They supposed this was the fate of someone who bent the rules of the very world. Not change that they sought, but the fury of gods. Ghost would adjust themself a bit, into something that made a mockery of comfort. Their hazy gaze would focus on the ceiling above, which lightly dripped water from some unseen source above.

Bright…

Maybe a rest would do them some good, they thought. There was nothing better to do, and they were so, so, so so tired from their self imposed sleep deprivation.

They would close their eyes, body relaxing further with the gentle sounds of water, right next to their head. Ghost would close their eyes, faintly wondering if their parents would miss them. An odd thing to think, they thought, as sleep took them and they drifted into darkness.

Or, not so darkness.

...

A platform floated amidst yellow fluffy clouds of dream, Ghost stood atop it in their slightly taller, ironically past form, holding nothing. No nail, as they had arrived to the spring. They looked up, wincing slightly at the bright light, almost blindingly bright. But, soon it became inviting. They would tilt their head slightly, looking up to the sky up ahead.

The air was still and warm, comfortable. The space became filled with light chiming sounds. Bells, enchanting sounding, dreamy.

Ghost was silent as they walked the gray and cream colored stone path. They had seen scenes such as this before.. Although the memories associated were not the most pleasant, they felt an odd sense of security. They knew that they should not feel this way, but it was a hard thing to combat. They felt as if someone had stuffed cotton into their mask.

The light only seemed to grow more and more blinding, the warmth more scalding but they didn’t care. They had been here before. But they couldn’t find it within themself to care, step, step, step. And in front of them, the platform opened into a circle shape, and then ended. Something akin to where they had once fought her. A faint voice in their head voiced wary concern, warnings. They wanted to reach for their nail, but they knew it was not there. It was not there. It was not there.

They did not need to fight, anyways. They were safe, they were safe, they were.

A pair of hands were on their shoulders and shaking them. Ghost startled awake, slightly panicked for a moment as they tried to figure out what was going on. Hollow gave a worried, half chirp that sounded strangled. A sound that should never have been heard, and yet they.. Had..?

Ghost squinted.

Their sibling?

They would blink, vision still hazy but they were awake now. Their head would tilt slightly, as their bigger sibling would grab the side of their face and tilt their head up with a confused, concerned look.

Hollow watched as the orange swirling in their pitch black eyes finally shrank away, and their sibling looked at them, actually looked at them, for the first time in what felt like eons.

No words were exchanged, there never were. Hollow was not the Pure Vessel. Ghost had known, but they could finally.. Truly know, as their sibling wrapped their arms around them in a tight hug. And they could feel the cold drip of tears on their shoulder.

...They probably weren’t out of the woods, not yet, maybe not ever, but they had their sibling. Not a husk who only followed commands, who never batted an eye to anything despite their best efforts.

Maybe things would be alright now, though.

( @deltaetalan )

( @spiralraven https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/spiralraven )

They found a secret in the mind of a locked up bug. She was lying in the deep stomach of the kingdom, discarded with other hidden treasures. Her mind housed the warriors and higher beings of Hallownest, and Ghost has a terrible, fantastic, awful idea. 

If they are all in there… Could they defeat her? Without facing their sibling?

They have to try.

They face their friends, and the first time it happens, they are frozen. Their void is slowly beading up into the air, dissipating as it rises. Their mentor faces them, and for a split second they think the mind-palace made a mistake, it must have.

Oro releases a great big bellow, one that rattles their shell badly enough that his attack catches them off-guard. 

They don’t feel their shell split, but they wake up in front of the golden door, unharmed and whole. They get up from the floor and dust themselves off. 

They have no lasting injuries, and their soft void doesn’t even ache with the hits they suffered. They glance at the door again.

There must be something very important at the top, if it’s this well guarded.

They take the challenges, opening the golden doors over and over again. It makes the void inside them tremble something terrible as if by taking each challenge they are changing themselves too. 

They try and try and try again.

They slowly, painfully, climb up. 

That’s the only thing, really, that they can do. That’s how they started, and that’s how they will end it. Their determination fuels them more than anything, their thoughts a swirl of emotion. 

They face Oro and Mato. It kills them a little inside when they see their mentors on their knees, knowing that they were the one bringing them down.

They bow as a goodbye, and they leave, the dream arena dissolving into golden clouds.

They shake a little, their void trembling. It is worrisome, but they refuse to stop. They challenge the next door and fight and win. 

Facing Hornet once again, without the recognition in her eyes is more painful than they imagined. The fight is over quickly, but they ache inside, not unlike when they take a savage hit from the infected husks. 

They stop to rub at their chest, a tight, uncomfortable feeling coiling in them. They don’t want to hurt their friends and fighting this long is taking its toll. But the nervousness drives them forward further and further. 

They can’t afford to waste time. This is for their sibling.

They march on determined. They must win, they must fight. No challenge this bug can imagine would ever stop them. None and nothing will.

The final arena is dark. Their soul trembles and their pure nail shakes in their grip. They don’t want to believe what they are seeing. They don’t want to recognise the kneeling figure, and they shake their head in denial.

It can’t be. Their sibling is locked, chained, hidden away.

Their mind goes blank, and only their sharp reflexes save them from the first hit. Their sibling, tall, lanky and grown swipes at them again. Ghost evades the hit and prepares to retaliate. 

They fight. Their heart is bleeding with every hit they land on their sibling, and they want, more than anything, to stop. To hug them, to comfort them, but this is only a parody of their sibling. An illusion, a facsimile of a memory that was just as wreathed in darkness as they are right now.

With the last slash, their not-sibling falls to their knees. They look straight at Ghost, and Ghost sees a spark of recognition in their eyes. Ghost approaches, gently laying their hand against the white mask of their sibling. It almost dwarfs their hand, and for a split second their sibling lays their head against them. 

The ceiling splits open and Ghost is dragged upwards.

No. No!

They reach back to their sibling, desperate to cling to the sense of comfort for just a second more, but the fake sibling-shape dissolves into motes of void and Ghost is yanked up.

They turn and face the Radiance. 

She is an angry god, a screaming ball of fury and flame. The light of her hurts, burning their arms as they challenge her. They stand in front of the onslaught, their face turned up in defiance. 

One of them will not leave the arena. And they can’t afford to lose. 

As they fight, the void rises. Ghost doesn’t even realise as they grab at its power, pulling it up from the abyss between the dreams and waking thought. Its black liquidy mass rises and the Radiance flees up and up higher, but Ghost chases her. They evade her attacks as the onslaught grows more and more desperate. They arrive at the top of the pantheon, as they have defeated every single warrior left in Hallownest.

They ascend.

As The Void rises to devour the Radiance, Ghost desperately searches. Their sibling must be in there somewhere. They saw them turn back into the void the rose from, and all of The Void is now here.

They descend into the swirling mass of regrets, their nail slipping from their grasp, as the Void eats it. They twist around in the angry waves of the rising Void, looking for a flash of that blindingly white mask. Just a sign of life, just a second to see that they are free. The darkness obscures their vision, as it pours through them. Pressure builds behind their mask, and it spills out from them, but their tears are dark and it swirls easily with the rest of the terrible ocean.

A light catches their attention.

It is not the same burning glare of the Radiance, it is much more subdued. It is pale and white, almost silver, sharp and unfamiliar. 

Ghost turns and swims towards its source. The current drags them away, angry and lashing out as they push against it. It doesn’t want to let go, and the moment suspends itself, frozen in time before Ghost crashes through it.

They hang from a platform, its cold metal edge painfully familiar. They hold it, straining against releasing the edge. They pull themself up, their new soft claws scrabbling against the smooth metal surface.

Someone is already there.

They see the bright light of the king and a lonely little silhouette against it. They don’t think, they don’t consider anything other than that their sibling is there. They grab their shoulders and crush them into a hug, their nails clutching at the sibling’s cape. They don’t want to let go.

They know what will happen if they let go.

[ Bonus content:

The King marches them both out of the Abyss, his cold light cutting a sharp line straight ahead. Ghost clutches at their sibling’s hand, refusing to let them go. The king watches them both, Ghost knows this, but they can’t make themself release the limp hand from their desperate grip.

The king leaves it without comment.

The Ancient Basin is just as bleak and lifeless as it was before, although its impressive architecture is a lot less… crumbly.

As they make the journey across to the White Palace, Ghost’s urge to kick the king grows. 

They look at his stupid crown, and his stupid palace, as they clutch the claws of their sibling. With a growing sense of satisfaction they slowly realise that they could.]

( @couchcat or @couch-cat )

( @solara-nightshade )

Favoritism

The feral vessel is in the garden practicing different signs when they spot Hollow.  They look up from where they had been documenting which of their signs meant what and feel nothing strange upon sensing their presence.  It isn’t until Hollow comes into view that Ghost feels anything amiss.

 Hollow steps around the flowering shrubbery along the cobbled path to the courtyard, carrying a sword in each hand.  One is their usual large pale sword, intricate designs carved with precision, made to perfectly fit them and their size.  The other is not nearly as elegant- only half the length, standard, and perhaps slightly better material; a sword meant for an elite warrior rather than soldier.  

Before Ghost can even ponder where Hollow obtained the sword, and had started to sign the question, Hollow is thrusting out the extra sword towards them.  Message clear.

Fight me.

Fighting Hollow had not been on their list of things to do today, but they figure they can accept the Hollow Knight’s offer, emboldened by their brave show of individuality.  The courtyard offers enough space for a good duel, and as long as they don’t destroy the surrounding shrubbery, no one should object to their fight.  

With the tingle of excitement, they get up and take the sword.

No sooner had Ghost tested their grip had the Hollow Knight crouched with sword at the ready.  Ghost barely has time to adjust their stance before Hollow pushes forward and swings their sword.  Ghost is only able to parry by guiding Hollow’s blade upward with their own.

Ghost quickly goes onto the offensive and goes to give a good slap to Hollows side, hoping to move the duel to their favor by giving Hollow a weakness.  Hollow is forced to evade and back away before going in for another strike, this time with more force.  Knowing their smaller stature will not win against Hollows strength, they quickly maneuver to miss Hollow’s blade.

As soon as the blade passed Ghost goes in for the win, using the time it would take Hollow’s giant blade to make its way back to go in for the kill.  Blade ending at the skin of Hollow’s throat.

Ghost cannot help but smirk in triumph.

Ghost feels Hollow’s body go rigid, frozen in their stance.  However, something flashes in the corner of Ghost’s eyes and that is all the warning the feral vessel gets before ducking away to narrowly avoid the soul daggers aimed at their back.  The soul daggers dig into the ground and disappear, leaving cracked notches in the stone pathway.

Ghost feels anger briefly course through them, seeing as how they thought this was a sword duel.  However, they can adapt.  There was no need to stand on the traditions the pale king called acceptable for a sword duel.

With the knowledge that soul attacks were on the table now, Ghost sends a punch of soul towards Hollow, which Hollow side steps to avoid, then sends a wave of soul daggers back towards Ghost.  Ghost jumps into the air and swipes at one of the daggers, pogoing off towards the Hollow knight, and fling their sword in an arc above Hollow.  

Hollow quickly teleports away and lets loose a whip of void which Ghost tries to avoid, but gets nicked in the side.  It stings where the void touched but they ignore it and get back into a defensive stance.

However, when Hollow doesn’t make a move, Ghost takes the chance, switching to offensive, to send another burst of soul towards Hollow which hits Hollow straight in the chest.  The power behind the soul attack causing Hollow to slide a few feet backwards.

Hollow looks stunned for a moment, before gripping their sword tightly and teleporting above Ghost and thrusts downwards.  Ghost leaps out the way and has to avoid Hollows follow up thrust by dashing through Hollow as soon as their foot hit the ground, turning into intangible void for brief seconds.  Turning back around, they plan to hit Hollow again when they see a tell-tale sign of glowing from the Hollow Knight.  Knowing what this means, they immediately dash backwards to avoid the explosion of soul around Hollow.  Careful to avoid the lingering explosions, they dash back forwards to slap Hollow with their sword during the cooldown they know this spell has.

They don’t expect Hollow to physically grab their blade, causing liquid void to glisten down its length.

It is at this point Ghost starts to worry about Hollow’s intentions behind this fight.

Hollow forces the feral vessel’s blade away and follows up with a broad swing.  Ghost feels the wind from the motion just millimeters from their face, followed quickly by swing after swing.  Each a strong and powerful stroke, but slowly becoming more and more predictable.

Careless.

Ghost notices they are being backed up onto one of the moss covered walls surrounding the garden and looks for an opening in the swings.  When they spot it, they quickly swing in tandem with the offending blade and throw it off course and away.  Hollow’s large sword clinking along the ground as it comes to a halt several feet away.  Instead of aiming for what should have been the end the first time they did it, they swing themselves onto their siblings back and forced Hollows head upwards, hoping to unbalance him.

The sudden change in scenery caused Hollow to stagger, and with the sudden weight behind, gave enough force to make Hollow fall backwards.  Ghost quickly swings back around and thrusts Hollow’s chest to the ground.  They follow by digging their blade into the ground just inches away from Hollows neck.  

They stared at Hollow.  Hard.

When Hollow got over whatever dazed state they should have been in from the sudden vertigo, and noticed Ghosts stare, they looked away.  When Hollow ceases to desist, does Ghost finally relax.  Knowing Hollow has conceded the fight.

“Well done, my child.”  A whispery voice descends upon them from behind Hollow.  Ghost looks up and sees the White Lady descending into the courtyard from one of the paths that lead to higher ground.

Ghost, with incriminating evidence of a sword still in hand, quickly drops it and backs off of the Hollow Knight.  Quickly signing hello to get the Lady’s eyes off of the sight in front of them.

“Quite the accomplishment, defeating the Hollow Knight.  An impressive battle.”   She says as she floats into the garden, Dryya following stiffly behind her.  They could feel Dryya’s eyes on them like a hawk.

Hollow, on the other hand, was quick to stand and give the White Lady a bow in greeting.

The White Lady simply moves past Hollow and comes to a stop in front of the feral vessel, “I am sure my Wyrm will be quite impressed by the results.  Such a talented child for your age.”  She praises.

 Ghost cannot help but feel embarrassed by such kind words, but signs back, ‘Watch, all?’

“I know of the events, yes.  I could feel it through the plants.”  She gestures towards the damage they had inflicted to the courtyard and surrounding plant life.

Ghost, who really cares less about the plants, still signs a ‘sorry’ for her.

“Surely, with all the other damage you have inflicted upon my Wyrm’s palace, you cannot claim differently here.  I will pardon it this once, but please do try to keep your tendencies away from my garden from now on?  I have duties to attend, but I just wanted to stop by to see what was going on.  I will see you later, yes?”

At their signed affirmative she gently floats away from her garden down a different path from which she came, garden repairing itself as she goes by.  Ghost takes a look towards Hollow, only to find their head bowed and fists tightly clenched.  As soon as the Lady is completely gone, Hollow collapsing onto the ground with the thump startles Ghost from their thoughts.

Black tears start to cascade their way down Hollow’s face.  

Ghost approaches slowly, not really knowing how to take this sudden change in Hollow’s demeanor.  However, once they get close Hollow only pushes Ghost away before turning away from them.  Desperately scrubbing the tears away from their face.  Leaving black stains to mark Hollow’s face.

Ghost wasn’t about to let Hollow push them away and quickly marched over and grabbed their face, forcing them to look at Ghost.

“Wrong, what?”  They sign, taking one hand away to finger sign.

Hollow stares at them for a moment, before carefully signing back, “White Lady.  Hollow.  Hello. No.”  Their sign is basic, most likely learned from watching Ghost, but Ghost understands it nonetheless.

They hadn’t really been focusing, but they do remember how the White Lady had walked right past Hollow to give Ghost all the attention.  Ghost hadn’t thought anything was strange at the time, they having very little knowledge of social customs, but did find it weird that the White Lady had completely ignored Hollow. They tried to think if they had ever noticed the White Lady give the Hollow Knight any attention, and couldn’t think of any examples, and how how she had talked about Hollow in the future-

She had called them Vessel.  It.  Tarnished by an idea instilled.  Considered a blemish.

Perhaps her feelings affected even before their duty was to be fulfilled.  Knowing how a simple touch from the King affected them, having to watch as their mother ignored and went on to praise and give love to their sibling…

What a horrible sibling they have been.  What little attention they could have gotten, stolen away by their presence.

Wanting to fix this mistake of theirs, they quickly pull Hollow into a hug in apology, before taking their hand and forcing Hollow to their feet.  It only takes mere seconds for Hollow to find balance due to their training, and Ghost runs off with Hollow in tow.

They can feel Hollow tugging, trying to get their hand free of Ghost, but Ghost will not fail here.  They run down the hall that the White Lady had gone towards, and upon finding her and startling Dryya, they use their momentum to thrust Hollow in front of her.  Hollow almost collapsing into her by the sudden loss of momentum.  Hands, attempting to find balance, grab onto the White Lady’s robes.

The Hollow Knight lets go just as quickly as if burned.  Returning them to their sides.

The White Lady, predictably, looks to the feral vessel for answers, “What is it, my child?”

Ghost pointedly signs, ‘Hug.  Hollow.”  They circle their arms, finger points touching followed by a single hand with three bent fingers.

The White Lady looks hesitant before looking down at their sibling.  Her eyes widen at the sight of black streaks down their face, evidence of tears.

At her hesitation to move, Dryya speaks from her side, “Surely, you do not have to follow the whims of that feral creature, my lady.  It is no more than the same thing as this one in front of you.”

Dryya’s words caused the White Lady to freeze.  She seemed to think over Dryya’s words.  

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, with Hollow looking resigned just in front of her, she whispers “Dryya, vow that what I am about to do will stay here?”

Dryya looks taken aback, but immediately takes to a knee and swears, “Anything for you, my lady.”

With that, the White Lady bends down and carefully wraps her arms around the vessel in front of her.  Catching said vessel off guard.  

She feels their shaking and when she feels a cold wetness at her front she replies, “I am sorry.  There is so little I can do for you.”

Ghost can only hope this is a step in the right direction.

( @plyushh​ )

( @confusedhost​ )

( @artisticdragons​ )

( @loops-for-soup https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/loops-for-soup )

( @babystag )

[oatmilkslytherin]

the one that got away (d.malfoy)

description: a friendly bet that turned into a dangerous spell gone too far. lovers ripped from one another, leaving draco to wonder if she’ll forever be the one that got away.

pairing: draco malfoy x anyhouse!reader

requested: yes / no

warnings: light cursing, blaise is the antagonist so i apologize to the blaise simps<33

a/n: i apologize for my absence !! writer’s block and mental health do be kicking ass right now<33 more parts for ruin me coming soon !! italicized parts are flashbacks ! also lmk if u want a part two hehe

taglist: @killiansawyer​ @potatothingsz​ 

draco’s pov: 

“no, darling,” i let out a light laugh at the flustered girl beside me, her eyebrows furrowed into a look of frustration. “you’ll want to use peppermint, not sage.”

y/n looked up at me from her parchment, her writing messy nearly indecipherable as she messily scrawled the potions ingredients for the elixir. her furrowed brows unwound themselves into a light smile, her stress dissolving as i wound my arms around her. 

she let out a sigh, letting herself nuzzle into my embrace. the fire in front of us flickered, dancing betwixt the wooden embers and ashes in the stone hearth. it was much too peaceful, but that’s what i loved most about it. about her. she was peace, even when i was chaos. 

“what would i do without you?” she mumbled into the skin of my neck, placing a light kiss against my collarbone. i smiled deeply, resting my cheek against the top of her head. we stayed like this for a while, taking in each other’s presence in front of the fireplace. i couldn’t even tell you what time it was now; i couldn’t care less, either. all i cared about in this moment was being with her. 

much to my dismay, the moment didn’t last forever. she untangled herself from my delicate hold, packing away her belongings as she yawned quietly into her hand. 

“i should get to bed,” she mumbled, rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes. as much as i hated to see her go, i knew she was right. we had classes in the morning, and i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if the next time i saw her, she had dark bags under her eyes and longing for sleep strewn across her face. i smiled fondly at her as she stood up from the couch. i stood up with her, taking her hands in mine and tugging her to face me. 

“i love you.” my voice was barely above a whisper, my own restlessness consuming my entirety. she smiled widely up at me; she told me countless times how much she loved to hear those three sweet words; how true they sounded coming from my lips. i would tell her time and time again if it meant i could see her smile just as she was in this moment. 

“i love you more,” she said through her bright smile. she stood up on the tips of her toes to capture my lips in a soft, breathless kiss. i couldn’t help but smile against her lips as i cupped her face, bringing her even closer to me. 

she left before i knew it; bidding me sweet ‘good nights’ and ‘sweet dreams’ before heading towards her own dorm. i was dumbfounded as i stood in the midst of the common room, my hands shoved deep in my pockets and i couldn’t help but smile widely even after she was gone. 

“and what’s a bloke like you done to get someone like that?” a voice behind me pushed me out of my deep thoughts and daydreams of her. startled, i looked to the source of the voice, my eyes immediately falling upon blaise. i couldn’t help but smirk slightly seeing the annoyance brushing upon his face. 

“it’s a miracle, i know. i don’t know what she sees in me, but merlin i’m thankful,” my smirk slowly turned into a smile as she began to consume my thoughts once more. blaise only rolled his eyes at my comment, scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. 

“i bet you anything i’d having her falling over me in a heartbeat,” blaise retorted, his cocky attitude suddenly consuming his demeanor. i only furrowed my brows and gave him a half-hearted scoff. 

“right, mate; game on. we love each other,” i stated confidently. blaise’s smirk only deepened, nodding slightly in our verbal agreement.

“deal.”

i thought about that day more times than i could count. i thought about how i desperately wished to hold her longer, how i would’ve kissed her deeper, how i would’ve never agreed to blaise’s game if i knew it would end like this. my mistakes consumed me entirely, turning me into a hollow shell of someone i’ve never known. someone i never wanted to know.

it had been merely three months since she left. she left abruptly, without warning. she had broken up with me in the middle of the courtyard with the wind whipping around us in a winter daze. i remembered sobbing insufferably, begging her to stay with tears dripping to the corners of my mouth. all while she stood emotionlessly, blankly. it didn’t even seem like her; it seemed like a stranger was in my midst as she stood in front of me, turning my heart into minuscule fragments.

less than three days later, i spotted her walking around the corridors with blaise hanging off of her. her smile didn’t seem quite as bright, her eyes didn’t seem quite as vibrant. but when she caught glimpses of me softly crying at the sight of them together, she looked like she didn’t even know me at all. 

i became numb. i became inconsolable as i resided in the haven of my dorm room walls. the only person that ever came to see me was pansy, y/n’s best friend. i appreciated her company; she made me feel slightly less crazy when she told me how glazed over her eyes looked whenever she saw y/n. she told me how she never stuck around anyone besides blaise anymore; how she seemed to treat everyone besides him like a stranger now. 

it would’ve been comforting to hear if i hadn’t drowned myself in my own sorrows. hearing how she treated everyone else the same wasn’t relieving when i still loved her after all this time. theoretically speaking, i should hate her. i should curse her for breaking my heart so easily, for leaving me as if it was nothing. 

but i couldn’t. i couldn’t bring myself to hate anything about her. she was everything to me. and even if i was nothing to her now, it didn’t change a damn way about how i felt towards her. 

i stared up blankly at the ceiling in my dormitory, letting my eyes stare emotionlessly into the wood until they grew dry and red. the days grew longer as i spent the majority of my time in solitude. i longed for human interaction, laughter and happiness. but more than that, i longed for her. 

in the midst of my pathetic non-verbal drabbles, my door burst open with a fuming pansy storming inside. i sat up startled, watching her closely as she breathed heavily, her face flushed with anger and a questionable sadness as she slammed the door shut. i eyed her silently but curiously, wondering what had her so flustered in the first place.

“he put a spell on her,” she finally breathed out, wiping away a tear that fell down her cheek. my eyebrows furrowed as she muttered these words, my mouth falling open but my plethora of unanswered questions failing to fall out. 

“who?” was the only question i could muster. i couldn’t help but notice how hoarse and emotionless my voice sounded as i spoke. 

“that git zabini! he cursed y/n so she would break up with you and be with him. that foul twat has stolen my best friend so he can just get off!” pansy’s voice came out in a shrill yell. 

my heart dropped as she spoke. my mouth dried up suddenly and i couldn’t tell if my chest pounded with pure anger or sympathetic sadness. a dull ringing consumed my senses, filling my eardrums. i couldn’t even hear pansy’s rambling as i stood up and stormed past her. 

it was all his fault. a stupid bet that he had taken too far; a bet that ended with him living in a happy lie while i longed for some sense of her return to me. it burned within me, becoming more blatant with every step i took. i didn’t have a plan of where i was going or what i would say once i got there. all i knew was i needed to fix this; i could fix this. 

i was going to fix this.

[kimium]

I posted 3,800 times in 2021

349 posts created (9%)

3451 posts reblogged (91%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 9.9 posts.

I added 2,467 tags in 2021

#jujutsu kaisen - 743 posts

#personal - 499 posts

#fire emblem heroes - 264 posts

#replies - 262 posts

#satosugu - 133 posts

#bnha - 126 posts

#writing - 118 posts

#sk8 the infinity - 112 posts

#fire emblem three houses - 110 posts

#ask meme - 100 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#btw my favourite mascot is nagano's mascot arukuma-kun and no i am not biased because i lived in nagano for two years ahaha what do you mean

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I have come to give you a giant hug!

And to ask for your favourite headcannon about Komaeda/Kamukura👀💜

THANKS FRIEND!!! I appreciate it! All the hugs back to you!

Originally my favourite headcanon regarding Kamukoma is "they met before the flashback on the ship in SDR2". It was a simple headcanon with evidence stemming from the epilogue of Ultra Despair Girls. (Both Servant and Kamukura were in Towa City— simple.) Then, came DR3 confirming that Kamukura and Komaeda briefly met prior to the game's events.

So, if we want "just a head canon and not confirmed by the source material" for Kamukoma, I like to believe those two had a -thing- going on. How far their -thing- went is up to you. Regardless, I don't think Kamukura and (Despair) Komaeda can have a healthy, functioning relationship... which also adds another layer to Komahina. (Should I feel the desire to add more tangled feelings regarding Komaeda and Hinata's relationship.)

(Side note: for a Modern AU I headcanon that Komaeda is really into playing with Kamukura's hair. He always wants to try new things and Kamukura silently lets him.)

I hope you enjoyed this answer and thanks for sending me this ask, friend!!!

14 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 16:30:58 GMT

#4

CYL5! I love all of their art and I am excited for them!

14 notes • Posted 2021-08-16 03:13:45 GMT

#3

Okay, some quick thoughts for Fire Emblem Heroes thanks to the Feh Channel.

-Very interested that the story is returning to Askr/Embla. I'm excited to see them flesh out (what I assume) to be Veronica's backstory. I'm desperately hoping to see more Bruno. (Please, IS.)

-Extremely disappointed that our new Book Unit is female. My biggest hope for Book VI was for us to receive a Male Book Unit. I'm also sad that Ash is once again a Light Mythic. I don't know why IS is so hellbent on giving us free Light Mythics only. A change would be nice.

-On a happier note, I really like Ash's art and that she's a free mythic beast unit. That's super unique and I appreciate that change.

- AWAKENING BANNER. I cannot tell you how excited I am for this. I've been wanting Basilio and Flavia in game for FOREVER. I'm also super excited for Miriel. I'm now hoping that Laurent can show up in the game soon 👀

-Looks like IS is finally giving us a proper PvP mode. That's exciting. However, not going to lie, I'm far more excited for the FILTERS. Legitimately over the moon that I can filter my units based on Dance. I cannot tell you how excited I am for that ahaha. I'm also super excited for the sorting mode based on Version. That will be fun to sort just to take a look at when units were added.

14 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 00:33:54 GMT

#2

Wonder Egg Priority is so good but even though I was waiting for the boot to drop I am still reeling. Clearly I was not as prepared as I thought.

15 notes • Posted 2021-03-17 05:00:16 GMT

#1

I am excited for Luthier and Zeke but I wish there wasn't a midpoint Mythic on this banner. (Not that I did not see that coming.) I just want more Echoes characters. This banner feels like the bare scraps of Echoes for me.

16 notes • Posted 2021-06-06 03:05:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[bobasheebaby]

200 Harry Potter Prompts

Let me preface with this: I love the Harry Potter series, both the books and the movies and have shared both with my son; HOWEVER I don’t support the things that JK Rowling has been saying recently. I refuse to let her transphobia destroy something I love so I propose we take back these quotes from the characters we love and make as many of them as gay as we possibly can. Fuck you JK

1 “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” —Albus Dumbledore

2 “No post on Sundays.” —Vernon Dursley

3 “You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that? Brilliant … but scary.” —Ron Weasley

4 “It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” —Albus Dumbledore

5 “Honestly, don’t you two read?” —Hermione Granger

6 “Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies’?” —Ron Weasley

7 “Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.” —Arthur Weasley

8 “It is our choices, NAME, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” —Albus Dumbledore

9 “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” —Harry Potter

10 “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” —Albus Dumbledore

11 “I don’t go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds me.” —Harry Potter

12 “The ones that love us never really leave us.” —Sirius Black

13 “What’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.” —Rubeus Hagrid

14 “Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” —Albus Dumbledore

15 “I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed.” —Rubeus Hagrid

16 “It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” —Albus Dumbledore

17 “Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, NAME?” —Hermione Granger

18 “You’re just as sane as I am.” —Luna Lovegood

19 “I mean, it’s sort of exciting, isn’t it, breaking the rules?” —Hermione Granger

20 “Give him/her hell from us, NAME.” —Fred and George Weasley

21 “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.” —Sirius Black

22 “Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have.” —Hermione Granger

23 “Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.” —Luna Lovegood

24 “Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” —Albus Dumbledore

25 “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.” —Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem

26 “Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.” —Kingsley Shacklebolt

27 “It is the quality of one’s convictions that determines success, not the number of followers.” —Remus Lupin

28 “Not my son/daughter, you bitch!” —Molly Weasley

29 “You’ll stay with me?” “Until the very end.” —Harry and James Potter

30 “Of course it’s happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” —Albus Dumbledore

31 “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” —Albus Dumbledore

32 “Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead." — Harry Potter

33 “If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." — Sirius Black

34 “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." — Albus Dumbledore

35 “It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more." — Albus Dumbledore

36 “You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?" — Albus Dumbledore

37 “Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.” — Albus Dumbledore

38 “The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.'" — Albus Dumbledore

39 “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." — Hermione Granger

40 “I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there." — Harry Potter

41 “When in doubt, go to the library." — Ron Weasley

42 “Honestly, if you were any slower, you’d be going backward." — Draco Malfoy

43 “Mischief Managed!" — Harry Potter

44 “We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided." — Albus Dumbledore

45 “Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go." — Voldemort

46 “Curiosity is not a sin…. But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed." — Albus Dumbledore

47 “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open." — Albus Dumbledore

48 “The thing about growing up with NAME (and NAME) is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.'" — Ginny Weasley

49 “Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike." — Albus Dumbledore

50 “NAME says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right." — Hermione Granger

51 “Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe." — Nearly Headless Nick

52 “Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth." — Albus Dumbledore

53 “No, NAME, you listen,” (pause) “We're coming with you. That was decided months ago — years, really.'" —Hermione Granger

54 “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." ― Albus Dumbledore

55 “Do not pity the dead, NAME. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love. “-– Albus Dumbledore

56 “Anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.” – Ginny Weasley

57 “For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own.” – Albus Dumbledore

58 “We’re all going to keep fighting, NAME. You know that?” – Neville Longbottom

59 “I am not worried, NAME … I am with you.” – Albus Dumbledore

60 “Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.” – Gilderoy Lockhart

61 “Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless —unless they’ve got to.” – Harry Potter

62 “Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies.” – Lord Voldemort

63 “Killing is not so easy as the innocent believe.” – Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

64 “What's life without a little risk?" — Sirius Black

65 “There were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness.” – Remus Lupin

66 “You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” – Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

67 “You will also find that help will always be given at PLACE to those who ask for it.” – Albus Dumbledore

68 “I mean, you could claim that anything’s real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody’s proved it doesn’t exist!” – Hermione Granger

69 “To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever." — Albus Dumbledore

70 “Though we may come from different places, and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one." — Albus Dumbledore

71 “Always.” — Severus Snape

72 “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” — Albus Dumbledore

73 “It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated.” — Albus Dumbledore

74 “Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.” — Albus Dumbledore

75 “Time is making us fools again." — Albus Dumbledore

76 “I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.” — Albus Dumbledore

77 “The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed.” — Albus Dumbledore

78 “I just feel so ... angry, all the time., and what if after everything I've been through, something's gone wrong inside me. What if I'm becoming bad?" — Harry Potter

79 “Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything.” — Severus Snape

80 “Well, it may have escaped your notice, but life isn’t fair.” — Severus Snape

81 “Ah, yes,” he/she said softly, “NAME. Our new — celebrity.” — Severus Snape

82 ““I wish … I wish I were dead …” “And what use would that be to anyone?” — Severus Snape & Albus Dumbledore

83 “You don’t want me as your enemy, NAME.” — Severus Snape

84 “DON’T . . . CALL ME COWARD!” — Severus Snape

85 “Look . . . at . . . me . . . “ — Severus Snape

86 “Then you should have died! Died, rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you." — Sirius Black

87 “NAME was a brave, clever, and energetic man/woman, and such men/women are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger." — Albus Dumbledore

88 “Like the fact that the person NAME cared for the most about in the world was you.” — Albus Dumbledore

89 “You don’t understand — there are things worth dying for!” — Sirius Black

90 “Well, [bad] times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others.” — Sirius Black

91 “Oh, I’ve interrupted a deep thought, haven’t I? I can see it growing smaller in your eyes.” — Luna Lovegood

92 “I sleepwalk, you see. That’s why I wear shoes to bed.” — Luna Lovegood

93 “He/She doesn’t think you treated him:her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with him/her. I don’t think I’d have minded. I don’t like dancing very much.” — Luna Lovegood

94 “Come, daddy, NAME doesn't want to talk to us right now. He's/She’s just too polite to say it.” ~Luna Lovegood

95 “Being different isn't a bad thing. It means you're brave enough to be yourself.” - Luna Lovegood

96 “NAME, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than NAME, and that's saying something.” — Draco Malfoy

97 “You foul, lying, evil little cockroach!” — Hermione Granger

98 “Oh, it was NAME, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things.” — Hermione Granger

99 “One person can’t feel all that at once, they’d explode.” — Hermione Granger

100 “It would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, NAME, because in case you haven’t noticed, NAME and I are on your side.” — Hermione Granger

101 “Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!” — Hermione Granger

102 “Very well spotted.” — Hermione Granger

103 “Always the tone of surprise.” — Hermione Granger

104 “Sometimes friendship means not having to say anything. Thank yous and apologies can sometimes get lost, but that doesn’t mean they’re unexpressed.” — Hermione Granger

105 “You’d think a bit of kissing would cheer him/her up.” — Ron Weasley

106 “And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” — Ron Weasley

107 “I knew NAME was lying about that tattoo.” — Ron Weasley

108 “There's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.” — Ron Weasley

109 “Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading.” — Ron Weasley

110 “What are you doing with all those books anyway?” — Ron Weasley

111 “Hang on a moment!” (said sharply) “We’ve forgotten someone!” — Ron Weasley

112 “I never really gave up on you. Not really." — Ginny Weasley

113 “It's okay NAME, it's alright. It doesn't matter." — Ginny Weasley

114 “People think they know all there is to know about you, but the best bits of you are ... heroic in really quiet ways." — Ginny Weasley

115 “Excuse me, but I care what happens to NAME as much as you do!” — Ginny Weasley

116 “Yeah, NAME, because you’re so talented ... at posing ...” — Ginny Weasley

117 “Forgot to brake, NAME, sorry.” — Ginny Weasley

118 “It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?” — Ginny Weasley

119 “I never really gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped ... NAME told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And he/she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.” — Ginny Weasley

120 “There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for.” — Ginny Weasley

121 “A good first impression can work wonders.” — Molly Weasley

122 “Beds empty! No note! Car gone-could have crashed-out of my mind with worry-did you care?” — Molly Weasley

123 “Where's the fun without a bit of risk?” — Fred Weasley

124 “You're joking, NAME! You are actually joking, NAME ... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-“ — Fred Weasley

125 “What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?” “Oh no, NAME,” [sarcastically.] “No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.” — Ron and Fred Weasley

126 “Where is NAME?" "Still in the showers," "We think he’s/she's trying to drown himself.” — Harry Potter and Fred Weasley

127 “We thought we heard your dulcet tones." "You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, NAME, let it all out," “There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you.” — George and Fred Weasley

128 “I don't think you're a waste of space.” — Dudley Dursley

129 “Yeah, but coming from NAME that's like ‘I love you.’” — Harry Potter

130 “The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to NAME —” “— and make no mistake, we’ll hear about it.” — Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin

131 “What you fear most of all is-fear.” —Remus Lupin

132 “There’s a bigger cause out there. It’s bigger than any of us here. But we stick together, all right? We stick together and look out for each other. Because you four are all I’ve got left. And I’m not going to see you die. Forever alive, all right? We’re not going to die." -Sirius Black

133 “Thought we were supposed to be friends? Best friends?” “We are, NAME.” — Severus Snape and Lily Potter

134 “NAME was scowling at him/her, but NAME refused to be judged by a cat.”

135 “I don’t know everything about life and marriage and happiness. But I do know what love is. And I do know that when love is real, and when love is in its strongest form, it is the most powerful thing on this earth. It kills, saves lives, heals wounds, and most of all, brings hope. That is what you have done for me, NAME. You have brought me hope." — James Potter

136 “I'm sorry too, that I will never know him/her ... but he/she will know why I died and I hope he/she will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he/she could live a happier life." — Remus Lupin

137 “I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!” — Harry Potter

138 “You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” — Albus Dumbledore

139 “He/She must have known I'd want to leave you." “No, he/she must have known you would always want to come back.” — Ron Weasley and Harry Potter

140 “You think I'm a fool?" “No, I think you're like NAME, who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his/her friends.” — Harry Potter and Remus Lupin

141 “You’re less like your father/mother/etc than I thought. The risk would’ve been what made it fun for NAME.” — Sirius Black

142 “The battle is always the same, just with different chapters.”

143 “I will if you go out with me, NAME.” — James Potter

144 “Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.” — Albus Dumbledore

145 “We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, NAME, but battle on." — Albus Dumbledore

146 “Eat, you'll feel better." — Remus Lupin

147 “Training for the ballet, NAME?” — Draco Malfoy

148 “You’re a fool, NAME, and you will lose everything.” — Voldemort

149 “There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.” — Voldemort

150 “What if I don't care?" “I care. How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral ...and it was my fault ...” — Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter

151 “Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies.”

152 “I have seen your heart, and it is mine.” — Voldemort

153 “What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, NAME?” “Nothing — nothing, my Lord!” “Such lies, NAME . . .” — Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy

154 “Come out, NAME ... come out and play, then it will be quick it might even be painless I would not know I have never died.” — Voldemort

155 “Do nothing! He's/She’s mine to finish! He's /She’s mine!” — Voldemort

156 “They never learn. Pity.” — Voldemort

157 “Invite him inside, NAME. Where are your manners?” — Voldemort

158 “As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, NAME, I must be the one to kill NAME.” — Voldemort

159 “Oh, he/she knows how to play, little bitty baby NAME.” — Bellatrix

160 “I don't like to be kept waiting!” — Bellatrix (Hermione)

161 “Ah, shut up, NAME, yeh great prune.” — Hagrid

162 “You think it - wise - to trust NAME with something as important as this?" “I would trust NAME with my life.” — McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore

163 “It unscrews the other way.” — Professor McGonagall

164 “They’re supposed to be, you blithering idiot.” — Professor McGonagall

165 “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, NAME." — Professor McGonagall

166 “"I – I didn't think –" “That is obvious." — Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall

167 “Why is it when something happens, it is always you three?” — Professor McGonagall

168 “NAME, that was foolish!" "He spat at you.” — Professor McGonagall and Harry Potter

169 “NAME – you're here! What –? How –?" — Professor McGonagall

170 “I didn't want anyone to talk to me.” "Well, that was a bit stupid of you.” — Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley

171 “Are you really giving us permission to do this?” “Yes, NAME.” “Blow it up? Boom?” “BOOM!” Neville Longbottom and Professor McGonagall

172 “That's the spirit, now away you go.” — Professor McGonagall

173 “NAME, take NAME with you. He/She looks far too happy over there.” — Professor McGonagall

174 “Do nothing? Offer him/her up as bait? NAME is a boy/girl/child! Not a piece of meat!” — Professor McGonagall

175 “That was bloody brilliant!” — Ron Weasley

176 “May I offer you a cough drop, NAME?” — Professor McGonagall

177 “Things at NAME are far worse than I feared." — Dolores Umbridge

178 “You know, I really hate children." — Dolores Umbridge

179 “I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends." — Dolores Umbridge

180 “The time has come for answers, whether he/she wants to give them or not." — Dolores Umbridge

181 “Deep down, you know that you deserve to be punished. Don't you, NAME?" — Dolores Umbridge

182 “I WILL have order!" — Dolores Umbridge

183 “What NAME doesn't know won't hurt him/her." — Dolores Umbridge

184 “As I told you NAME, naughty children deserve to be punished.” — Dolores Umbridge

185 “NAME, do something. Tell them I mean no harm.” “I'm sorry, NAME. But I must not tell lies.” — Harry Potter and Dolores Umbridge

186 “And that, boys/girls, is why you should never go on looks alone.”

187 “NAME, listen ...” [quietly] “I can’t be involved with you any more. We’ve got to stop seeing each other. We can’t be together.” “It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?” — Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley

188 “It’s been like ... like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you. But I can’t ... we can’t ... I’ve got things to do alone now.” — Harry Potter

189 “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."

190 “You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” — Albus Dumbledore

191 “NAME’s man/woman through and through, aren’t you NAME?” “Yeah I am. Glad we straightened that out.”

192 “He/She accused me of being NAME’s man/woman through and through.” “How very rude of him/her.” “I told him/her I was.”

193 “He/She will only be gone from PLACE when none here are loyal to him/her.” — Harry Potter

194 “Working hard is important. But there is something that matters even more, believing in yourself.” — Harry Potter

195 “One can never have enough socks.” — Albus Dumbledore

196 “People find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than right.” — Albus Dumbledore

197 “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” — Albus Dumbledore

198 “The best of us sometimes eat our words.” — Albus Dumbledore

199 “Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead.” — Hermione Granger

200 “Don’t you tell me what to do, NAME!” — Hermione Granger