#new layout for coining. i like it lots :}

[d-vewing]

❛❛  ～ Clonedoll ｡

a dollgender && clonegender sublabel connected to being a doll && a clone , a cloned doll .

[pt: clonedoll, a dollgender and clonegender sublabel connected to be a clone, a cloned doll. /End pt]

[ghostboneswrites2]

𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙙

Summary: As Daryl adjusts to a new life at the Commonwealth, he finds himself regularly attending a crusty hole-in-the-wall bar for the live music and cheap drinks. One night, a band he hasn’t seen before plays, and their lead singer inspires his curiosity.

Warnings: Profanity, TWD stuff, alcohol, mentions of grief/sad vibes here and there.

Pairing: Daryl x fem!reader (reader is described to be tall and likely in her late 30s)

Era: Commonwealth

Vibes: Immaculate

A/N: I haven’t watched anything past the Whisperers arc in quite a while now so forgive any inaccuracies I beg u

𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠 (in order):

*tried to pick some of my fav songs that would have been released pre-apoc*

All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix

Losing My Religion - REM

No Rain - Blind Melon

Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Nights in White Satin - The Moody Blues

Crushcrushcrush - Paramore

Masterlist | Taglist | Challenge

Dividers by: @roseraris @saradika-graphics @strangergraphics-archive

Lots of minors interacting lately so friendly reminder that my DNI includes minors!

In the past, Daryl wouldn’t have felt much comfort in a place like the Commonwealth. Busy streets, apartment living, social gatherings. In some ways it was similar to Alexandria, but in many ways it felt more metropolitan. He guessed he’d just been ripped out of his comfort zone so many times that it didn’t feel unusual anymore.

He’d found himself a job, a place in society that wasn’t deep in the woods in search of food. Hell, he’d even found himself a social life, believe it or not.

See, Daryl spent a fair amount of his free time — when he wasn’t with Judith and RJ — at a shithole bar that tended to attract the rougher types. He kept to himself mostly, save for a bartender he found himself rather fond of. He really just stuck around for the cheap drinks and live music. Patrons tended to mind their business, and sometimes there was food, too.

On this particular evening, Daryl was exhausted. He almost stayed home, but he was also restless. He figured a few drinks and some music could inspire some sleep, so he made his way to the bar when it opened at dusk.

“Evenin’, Killer.” Jax greeted the archer as he took his usual seat at the bar. He always remembered his seat because the stool was wobbly and the leather was worn.

“Hey.” Daryl grunted as he settled in and looked around. “Band ain’t here yet?” He wondered. Usually the musicians set up before the bar opened and started when the first patrons arrived.

“Nah, probably won’t even show.” Jax shrugged. “Some new band. Never seen ‘em here before.”

Daryl nodded as Jax handed him his usual glass of room temperature whiskey. Daryl thanked the man before he returned to wiping down the counter. Jax was a short man, sturdy and greasy. He wasn’t so pleasing on the eyes with the plethora of scars and blemishes that decorated his face, but his soul was kind. He rarely wore a shirt, only covering his torso with a torn leather vest similar to Daryl’s.

Jax had coined the nickname Killer for Daryl when an incident with some walkers occurred in the street in front of the bar. Most bystanders panicked and shrieked, but luckily Daryl was there to handle it.

“Oh, there they go.” Jax mumbled to himself as the band finally walked in and toward the stage, barely catching Daryl’s ear. Thoughtlessly, Daryl glanced toward the area the musicians usually played and observed them as they set up their instruments and amps. There was no stage in the bar, but there was a well lit corner that did quite nicely.

The band consisted of the typical drums-bass-guitar-vocalist layout, all of which were men except for the one adjusting the microphone. They only took around twenty minutes to set up. By then Daryl was on his second glass, finally feeling a familiar heat in his face as the buzz settled in.

As the music began, Daryl immediately recognized the tune, though he couldn’t place his finger on it until the woman began to sing:

“There must be some kinda way out of here, said the joker to the thief… There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief…”

He hadn’t heard it in so long he couldn’t tell you the name, but he knew it. He found himself tapping along, entranced by the performance. Smoke from cigarettes filled the bar as more patrons filled the seats, chuckling and chatting as they enjoyed the show. Daryl took a moment to observe them before he turned his attention back to the music.

“No reason to get excited, the thief, he kindly spoke… There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke… But you and I, we’ve been through that… And this is not our fate…”

Daryl quite enjoyed the music, and he began to wonder what they’d play next. He hoped their set list was full of songs he’d known before — songs like this — that made him feel as good as he felt just then. Eventually, the song came to an end, and the woman heading the band lit herself a cigarette and looked around at her audience.

She had a certain aura about her — cynical, yet content. It seemed as if she didn’t necessarily care to be there, but she didn’t treat it as a chore. Her eyes fell on him and somehow it made him squirm inside. He gulped down his last swig of whiskey before he looked away, summoning Ajax for a third helping.

“She was eyein’ you.” Jax commented as he poured the liquid.

“Pfft.” Daryl tutted as he wrapped his thick fingers around the cool glass and pulled it close to himself. “Prolly can’t even see with all them lights over her.”

“Nah, my friend. You locked eyes. She definitely can see you just fine.” Jax chuckled as he leaned over the bar. “Tell me, you’ve been here for months and haven’t found a single lady-companion. Why not get yourself out there?”

Daryl glared for a moment before shaking his head. He’d had enough trying to find companionship.

“Not my prerogative .” Daryl said coldly.

“Suit yourself, man.” Jax shrugged. “She’s easy on the eyes, though.”

As another song began, Daryl tuned out his friend. He had come to relax, not for relationship coaching.

This new song was a bit sadder in tune, and the melody made the singer’s hips sway a little as she clapped to the beat. Her expression was the same as before, but her eyes told a more melancholy story than the rest of her face. As she sang, Daryl couldn’t help but to study her. She was tall, but not as tall as him. Younger than he, maybe thirty-something, but no younger than that.

Her entire soul seemed to radiate with the music, effortlessly conveying emotion in her every note and movement.

“Life, it’s bigger… Bigger than you, and you are more me… The lengths that I will go to… The distance in your eyes…”

Daryl could practically feel everything she sang. Every note played on the guitar, every perfectly timed clap. It all meant something, it was all intended to send a message. As her eyes swept over the ground, avoiding any contact with the crowd, Daryl realized she was singing too someone. Someone that probably wasn’t around anymore, someone she probably would have died for. Someone who may not have felt the same. He knew the feeling all too well.

“Oh, no, I’ve said too much… I set it up… That’s me in the corner. That’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion… Trying to keep up with you, and I don’t know if I can do it.. Oh no I’ve said too much — I haven’t said enough…”

Suddenly Daryl felt her pain. Hell, he’d felt it before. He felt it with her. They felt it together.

As the music picked up, her voice cracked and swayed with everything she felt and everything she wanted to say. All the while, her eyes were glued to the ground, somewhere dust and and below.

“I thought that I heard you laughing. I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try… Every whisper, every waking hour, I’m choosing my confessions. Trying to keep an eye on you, like a hurt, lost, and blinded fool… fool…”

Jax, between filling drinks and polishing glasses, couldn’t help but watch Daryl as he watched the woman. Jax knew it — even if Daryl was too stubborn to accept it. Daryl was falling. An infatuation was forming, quickly and violently ripping through him as her voice consumed him.

Daryl wasn’t the only one who seemed to be swept away in the eerie sadness the girl’s pipes seemed to carry. The whole bar was silent and mournful, allowing her own grief to translate into their own.

Luckily, the next song wasn’t so sorrowful, or Daryl might have teared up with the rest of them.

This song was hopeful and somehow listless altogether. It sounded like a daydream on a sunny day, or like something a poet would write on a rainy morning.

“All I can say is that my life is pretty plain. I like watching the puddles gather rain…”

Daryl knew this one too. He recognized it from the radio. It often came on during the summers on the rock station in his hometown. He was grateful for the change in pace. He needed a laughter tune after the weight of the last one.

He ended up leaving shortly after that, deciding he could no longer be subjected to the enchanting songs of a siren. Plus, he was getting to be just drunk enough to sleep, and he had no intentions of missing that perfect window of tiredness.

A few days later, though, when he returned, he was embarrassed to find himself asking if the same band would be playing again. Jax sadly said no, but that they’d be back the next night. In order to avoid that look, Daryl had a drink before he went home and returned the next night. Just as Jax said, there they were, live and in action.

Daryl had arrived in the middle of another familiar favorite:

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? For I must be travelin’ on now… There’s too many places I’ve got to see.”

Daryl tapped his foot to the music, recalling a few drunken nights with his brother at bars just like this one. The old rockers liked to play this one on the jukebox, and Daryl didn’t mind the tune.

“But if I stay here with you, girl… Things just couldn’t be the same. ‘Cause I’m as free as a bird now…”

“And this bird you cannot change.” Jax began to sing along. Daryl chuckled softly under his breath. Of course Jax would know this song, he seemed like the type.

“Bye-bye, baby, it’s been a sweet love… But this feeling I can’t change. But, please don’t take it so badly… ‘Cause lord knows I’m to blame.”

Daryl relished in the familiarity of the tune, soaking in the nostalgia. It wasn’t often these memories felt happy, but with this song, they did.

The next song was much older, though. Daryl could tell by the instrumentals. It was something that would have played in a sad montage in disturbing film.

“Nights in white satin, never reaching the end… Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send. Beauty is always missed with these eyes before… Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore. ‘Cause I love you, yes I love you.. Oh, how I love you…”

The woman seemed to collapse with every note, losing her breath as she felt each word so deeply. That was it. That was the moment Daryl realized how hopelessly screwed he was, because he was falling for her. He’d never spoken to her, but she spoke to him with every song she sang. He couldn’t explain it — truthfully, it was ludicrous — but he felt like she was singing to him. He had to talk to her.

So, he waited around all night, sipping his whiskey slowly, ignoring Jax’s knowing smirk until the band played their final song of the night.

The music to this one sounded much more modern than the ones before. Quicker in pace and more pop-punk than he would usually listen to on his own.

As lips parted to sing her words, her eyes fell on Daryl with intention, as if speaking directly to him.

“I got a lot to say to you, yeah, I got a lot to say. I notice your eyes are always glued to me, keeping them here and it makes no sense at all…”

Daryl gulped, his throat feeling rather dry. Suddenly his collar felt too tight and his whiskey tasted like water. It all made sense; the change in music, the eye contact… She was talking to him. She had to be.

As the song came to an end, his nerves were fried. Anticipation are him alive as the music played, knowing she’d expect him to confront her after this. He guessed he’d planned to introduce himself anyways, but at least that would have been unprompted. This was much too direct for his taste.

Soon enough the music was done with and the band was packing up. Once she’d finished the song, she turned her attention to helping her crew, not even sparing a single glance Daryl’s way. As if he didn’t even exist.

“Liked your songs.” Daryl spoke awkwardly, clearing his throat as the band approached the bar to have a complimentary drink.

“Thanks, they weren’t mine though.” The woman shrugged him off.

“Nah, maybe not before, but.. Ya made ‘em yours.”

That comment seemed to pique her interest. She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked as she downed a shot of tequila like water, slamming the glass on the table to remind Jax she’d need another. The bartender obliged as she studied Daryl.

“You stayed for the whole show tonight.” She pointed out. Daryl shifted on his unbalanced barstool. “You left early last time.”

“Ya watchin’ me or somethin’, girl?” He scoffed.

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Watchin’ you watch me.”

Daryl gave her a sideways glance as he turned his glass bottoms up, gulping the last of his whiskey in one swift chug.

“Just watchin’ the band.” Daryl insisted.

“I’m not the band.” She countered. “You were just watching me.”

Daryl ran his tongue over his teeth and considered her words before he sighed.

“I gotta get goin’. Nice meetin’ ya.” He announced as he stood up.

“See ya next time, then?” She winked. She smiled and shook her head to himself as he went toward the exit. Men never seemed to know how to take her in as she was. She was always too forward, too snarky, to quick with her tongue.

“Never seen ya ‘round before.” He called over his shoulder as he paused at the door.

“I’m in the apartments just around the corner.” She told him. “I work at the cafe by the library on weekdays too.”

“See ya ‘round, then.” He concluded before he disappeared into the night.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway

[beingsuneone]

Sunset & Vine

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.

FANDOM: The Hunger Games

PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne

GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.

A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.

DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved

CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)

It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.

Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.

She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.

You can’t place it.

You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.

Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.

Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.

Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.

So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.

“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.

After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.

You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.

So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.

You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.

……

Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.

But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.

You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.

This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.

“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.

“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.

After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.

He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.

Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”

He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”

The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.

You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.

Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.

He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.

“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”

He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”

A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”

“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.

You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—

Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”

He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.

“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.

At least it wasn’t exclusively you.

Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.

“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.

“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”

You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”

Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”

“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”

Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”

Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”

“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.

Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.

“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”

You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”

Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”

Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”

Really, you could all argue this for hours.

…..

The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.

Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.

Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.

She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.

You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.

Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.

But the relief does not last long.

“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.

Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.

Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.

…..

“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”

He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.

Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.

You do feel a little less nauseous though.

“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”

Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.

Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.

Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.

And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.

…..

“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.

“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”

You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.

You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”

You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”

“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.

Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.

The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.

You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.

The last time was time enough for you.

“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.

“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”

Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”

….

“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.

You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”

His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.

It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”

Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”

….

You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.

Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.

He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.

You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.

Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.

You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.

“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.

“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”

He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”

You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.

It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.

Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.

Twenty seconds.

You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.

Ten seconds.

You ball your fists, clenching hard.

Nine.

Eight.

God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.

Seven.

Six.

You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.

Five.

Four.

And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.

Three.

Two.

Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.

One.

The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.

It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.

Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.

You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.

It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.

He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.

Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.

It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.

You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.

The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.

When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.

You race back as fast as you can.

Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.

You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.

It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.

Oh.

“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.

You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.

Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.

You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.

That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.

….

When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.

True enough, in a way.

The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.

You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.

It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.

Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.

You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.

But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.

You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.

“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”

He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.

…..

You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.

It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.

His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.

You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.

You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.

You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.

In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.

You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.

You try to zone back into the plan.

….

Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.

Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.

You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.

You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.

Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.

You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.

All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.

…..

“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.

Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.

Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”

Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”

Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”

….

As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.

You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.

Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.

He had always been the same.

Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.

You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.

They aren’t.

You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.

You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.

Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.

Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.

Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”

You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.

Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”

He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.

Our relationship has been fake from the start.

“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.

Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.

Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.

You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.

“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”

You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”

There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.

…..

You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.

So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.

Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.

It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.

The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.

Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.

Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.

You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.

Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.

You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.

Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?

You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.

You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.

If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.

You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.

Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.

The guards hold out a hand as you approach.

“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.

Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”

So much for your heartfelt reunion.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[coldbrewtarot]

Money Bowl

How to Create a Money Bowl

You will need:

Bowl

Rice - for abundance

Money Oil

Coins, cash, etc. (This can even be paper with dollar signs/money signs written in green or gold.)

Cinnamon sticks - for money

A green candle - for money, prosperity, abundance, wealth

Bay leaves

Basil (or other money related herbs and spices)

Pyrite - to attract money and prosperity

Clear Quartz - to amplify the spellwork

-----

Fill your bowl with rice up to a height you're comfortable with.

On a separate plate or napkin, layout the basil. (You can add any other spices or herbs that will help with your money bowl.) Dress the candle with your money oil. (This can be purchased pre-made from your local magick shop or you can make your own. If you don't have any, you can use whatever oil you have on hand.) Roll the candle in the herbs and make sure it's coated well.

Place the candle at the center of the bowl and start placing your stuff inside! I used rolled up cash (whatever amount you'd like), cinnamon sticks, basil with my petitions written on them, etc. Feel free to add more money-drawing items or remove what you feel isn't serving you.

Decorate your box with crystals and other items. I used a pyrite elephant and pyrite cluster since pyrite is associated with money and wealth, but I also used a clear quartz to amplify the shellwork and boost the money-drawing power.

I placed my bowl on top of my clear box with tips from the place I bartend at, but you can put your bowl wherever makes sense to you. The key is to "work" the bowl and continue to add/remove items, light the candle, add drops of oil, replace an old candle with a new one, etc. Since I have my bowl sitting on top of my money box, inserting money into the box is like I'm "feeding" the box/bowl with that energy.

I think the most important part to remember is that this bowl is personal and entirely up to you. Everyone's bowl will look different and people will "work" their bowls differently, which I think is really cool. There is no right or wrong way to make a money bowl, but it is a lot of trial and error. I'd love to hear what other people would use in their money bowl, so feel free to comment below to let me know!

-----

The correspondences listed above and noted in the description can be found in Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

WTH house. Somewhere, under all the decor and reno, is a 1952 mid-century modern home in Bremerton, Washington. 5bds, 3ba, $855K.

The entrance is long and narrow, with a coat closet, but it's not attractive. It leads to a larger foyer with double doors on one side, and a brick wall with a pony wall and Sputnik light leading to the lower level.

Farther down, the narrow foyer is used as a small sunny area for plants.

This is a somewhat odd layout for a MCM. The double doors open to a living room off to the side with a fireplace tucked into a corner and a door to the patio.

Then, there's an open concept sitting area, a pink frou-frou dinette, and a large kitchen. There's too much going on, here.

There's so much going on, it's confusing. The original kitchen is gone and has been totally renovated. I don't know if the Victorian stove conveys, but it looks out of place and you can't really appreciate it.

Gone is any hint of MCM.

The pantry has a fancy glass door and some new IKEA shelving.

There's an updated bath to match the kitchen. I doubt if I would've chosen these 2 tiles in combination.

The primary bedroom and en-suite are nothing to brag about. What is that mess of astro-turf and flowers on the counter? It looks like some fool sloppily painted the grout on the tile backsplash, pink.

These 2 secondary bedrooms are nothing special. I imagine that they will take that giant chalkboard with them and I hope they still have the doors to the closet somewhere.

The 3rd bath is a renovated shower room.

The family room has been turned into an extra bedroom.

It has a kitchenette and a fun coin operated merry-go-round, that probably doesn't convey.

Finally, the 5th bedroom has sliders to the patio.

Outside there's a small patio and a garden on the side of the home. We know that Washington state is expensive, but this home does need a lot of work.

The irregular lot extends back a bit and measures .69 acre.

[cherishyne]

⅄ 　 ⊞⊞ 　 🍰 　 ｡>﹏<） 　 iDENTiTY SYS

A iDENTiTY SYSTEM WiTH THE SUFFiX

- BOARD !

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ -BOARD MEANS YOUR “ BOARD ” / COVER UP PERSONALiTY / EMOTiONS / iDENTiTY && STYLE / AES ,, TQ ARE ALL [iNSERT] LiKE ! !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

AN EXAMPLE iS iDOLBOARD WHiCH MEANS YOUR “ BOARD / COVER UP ” PERSONALiTY / EMOTiONS / iDENTiTY && STYLE / AES ,, TQ ARE ALL iDOL LiKE ! ! ⋆✦

(( UPCOMiNG COiNiNG W/ THiS SYS ))

iDOLBOARD ,, BLOODYBOARD ,, VAMPBOARD ,, STARBOARD ,, PUPBOARD ,, BUNBOARD ,, KiTTYBOARD ,, CUTEBOARD

∧ ∧ ~ ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) ~ ♡ REASON OF BEiNG MADE ♡

/ づ ~ ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

THE CUPiD HAS SEEN ALOT OF PEOPLE SAYiNG THEY WANT TO HAVE A NEW PERSONALiTY ,, AND BE LiKE THE AESTHETiC PAGES WiTH TiTLES / LAYOUTS ETC ETC. KiNDA LiKE STARTiNG A NEW LiFE SO CHERiSHYNE THiNKS THiS iDENTiTY SYSTEM WiLL BE LiKED BY ALOT OF PEOPLE !

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

[ text id : Identity System, An identity system with the suffix -board. The suffix “-board” means that the “board” part is your cover-up personality, emotions, and identity. All the way up to your style, aesthetic, and typing quirk are all (insert) like. An example using the suffix is Idolboard which means your cover-up personality, emotions, identity, style, aesthetic, and typing quirk are all idol-like. My upcoming coining with the identity system is Idolboard, Bloodyboard, Vampboard, Starboard, Pupboard, Bunboard, Kittyboard, and cuteboard. The reason why I made this is because I’ve seen a lot of people saying they want to have a new personality. And, be like the aesthetic pages with the titles, layouts, etc etc. Kind of like starting a new life so I think this identity system will be liked by a lot of people ]

[stoneagedevil]

Do you write for Llewelyn Moss? If not, ignore this.

Basically just a short, suggestive fic where the reader is put into danger with Anton, and opposed to her typical damsel personality she managed to do some of her own damage and something about her * distracts him enough for Llewelyn to take him down. They reunite and are safe blah blah blah.

Note from Red: I’d say “I don’t write for Llewelyn,” as I actually don’t like him much, but I suppose now that isn’t true anymore. But for you, I’ll do it. I thought it was an interesting prompt and wanted to try my hand at writing for his character. I hope you’ll find it satisfactory.

——

Your Binds | Llewelyn Moss x f!Reader

TW/CW: Kidnapping, hostage situation, guns, blood, gore, murder.

——

Sometimes you wondered why you’d fallen head over heels for the stubborn man called Llewelyn Moss. Now was one of those times.

Llewelyn had sent you away after finding a satchel filled to the brim with 1.2 million dollars. Course, you cussed him up and down about it, saying you weren’t going nowhere without him, that the safest place you could be was beside him. But as said before, Llewelyn was a stubborn man.

“I’m bein’ tracked and I’ll be damned if you’re anywhere near me ‘n this bag.” You remember Llewelyn scolding you like an insolent child. You let him have it for that. But ultimately, he had the final say. You couldn’t wait to tell him, “I told you so,” because now, here you were. Kidnapped and tied up in a hotel room, sitting across from you was the bloodhound who had sniffed you out. He said his name was Anton, and by the way he told you his name, you knew that he’d kill you. A man like Anton doesn’t tell people his name all willy nilly ‘less he was gonna off em. You shoulda been scared. At least, a lot more scared than you were. You shoulda been shaking in your boots. But you weren’t. If you weren’t confined to this fucking chair and had a gun of your own, you’d blow his scheming mind out of his skull.

“He’ll find you, you know. He’ll come here and rip you a new one.” You said, venom dripping from your words. “You’re gonna die.” You snarled.

Anton smiled, yet it didn’t reach his dark eyes. “That’s what I’m planning on. For him to come here. For him to come to me.”

You were seething at the fact that you were being used as bait to kill Llewelyn. Part of you wanted him to never come and find you. Another part prayed to whatever God there was that he would. You couldn’t decide which was worse. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back over the back of the chair, wondering how it got to this point. How could such a blessing also be such a nightmare? Like two sides of the same coin.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.

“Hello? Sir, there’s a fella down in the lobby wanting to speak to you.” A muffled voice spoke through the door. It was a voice you didn’t recognized, and you figured the receptionist had switched places with the man behind the door. You and Anton looked at each other, and he raised his pointer finger to his lips. You knew if you screamed, Anton would shoot through the door and kill the man on the other side. But you were sure it was Llewelyn the maybe-receptionist was talking about. You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was capable of.

“Let him up.” Anton replied, not tearing his eyes from yours. You shook your head back and forth, almost pleading. Why? You knew this wasn’t a man of reason, but principle. It was as if your brain accepted it, but your body didn’t and decided to wager with the killer in front of you without permission.

“He said he wouldn’t come up, and that you’d have to meet him in the lobby if you wanted to see him.” The man replied, agitated he had to play message boy. Anton’s eyebrows lowered just a fraction, and if you weren’t so perceptive, you would’ve missed it. He was thinking.

Anton went through the layout of the hotel in his mind. The next room was farther down the hall, and the door opened so that if Llewelyn walked out to shoot him, he’d have to walk around it. Anton could easy kill him before Llewelyn had the chance to get into a position to cause Anton harm. There was only one set of stairs, but two sets of doors. He figured Llewelyn wanted to have an out. A chronic coward with rabbit blood and feet. While Anton didn’t understand the feeling of love, he understood that if one truly loves another, they’d do anything for the object of their affections. He wondered for a moment if his bargaining chip was even worth her weight in salt. Nonetheless, his target had come for his prize, all Anton had to do was shoot.

Finally, Anton stood to his full height, beginning to limp slightly towards the door. Just as his shiny mop of hair hit the sunlight beaming through the window, a loud crack was heard. It was like thunder, and you swear you felt rain on your face. But the rain was warm.

Atop a building across the road from the hotel you were held hostage in was a crouching Llewelyn. He released the breath he was holding, and finally lowered his rifle. This was the most important hunting excursion of his life, and he hit his target. As the scope was taken away from his face, he looked up, a single tear running down his right temple, and he thanked God the shot connected.

On the floor in front of you lay Anton, the top of his head taken off like a lid of a jar, with its contents spilling out. Brain matter and pieces of skull littered the floor, even spattering onto the walls. Around your feet blood pooled, and you were sure that Llewelyn was the one who shot Anton. You hung your head and cried, salty tears mixing with bitter blood, pink streaming down your face and falling onto your clothing. Suddenly, the lock was shot out, and your held snapped up to the source of the intrusion. It was a man you didn’t recognize, with a big white hat and blue eyes. He took said hat off his head and lowered it down over his heart.

“It’s okay, Llewelyn’ll be here in a minute. I’m gonna untie you now, if that’s alright.” His voice was different now, and you assumed that if the man hadn’t disguised his voice, Anton would’ve recognized him. His eyes searched yours, and yours searched his. What option did you have other than to trust him? He gingerly stepped over what was left of Anton. “My name’s Carson Wells, ma’am.” He said, as his hands worked gently to undo your bindings.

“Where’s Llewelyn?” You snapped, rubbing your red wrists as Carson moved down to your ankles. If this man wasn’t trust worthy you’d lay him out, now that you were free. You kicked aside a piece of Anton with your boot to make room for a fight if need be.

“He’ll be here any minute. He was up on that rooftop over there. He-“ his sentence was cut short by the sound of cowboy boots running up the creaky wooden stairs. Now free from your bindings, your body shot straight up. Llewelyn could barely turn into the room fast enough, his shoulder slamming into the doorway, grunting. But the moment you two locked eyes, it was like relief flooded the room, washing away the tension, the fear, and the blood of the man you both damned to Hell.

You both didn’t have to go far as you met each other halfway in the small room, but to the two of you it felt like miles. So close, yet so far. Llewelyn embraced you tightly, his arms becoming the only binds you’d ever want to find yourself in for the rest of your days. You sobbed uncontrollably, and he became choked up too.

Carson smiled softly at Llewelyn, and Llewelyn bittersweetly smiled back, nodding. The man who untied you put his hat back on, and turned towards the door. “I’ll leave y’all be for a moment.” And he ducked out of the room.

Now in private, Llewelyn’s hold tightened on you, before he loosened his grip shortly after and brought his large, rough hands to your wet and bloody face. “You ain’t hurt, are you baby?” He croaked, turning your head gently from side to side as if assessing any damage.

“No, he ain’t hurt me.” You sniffled. You felt like your heart was going to burst with the amount of emotions that filled it.

“I did.” He cried. He began shaking his head, “I ain’t never letting nobody hurt you ever again. No money in the world is worth you.” He swiftly brought your face to his, kissing you deeply. He tasted salt and iron, and a taste that was uniquely you that he thought about day and night while now was traveling to get you back.

Finally, you parted for air. “I should cuss you out somethin’ fierce.” You told him, laughing wetly. His eyes crinkled in joy, his mouth widened to show his pearly whites framed by his mustache that tickled you every time you kissed.

“You can cuss me out all you want. I’ll take anything you give me.” He needed to hear your voice in his ears for forever, like his lungs needed air. Having you living with him wasn’t enough. He wanted you to be his forever and after that.

It was that day, he decided he’d buy you a ring to put on your finger. Bought with the money men died over, but bought for the girl he killed for. It was a symbol of his dedication to you. His promise to come back. It was a symbol of your strength, and your trust in him, and you’d treasure it for the rest of your days, just as he’d treasure you.

——

I hope you liked it, and I thank y’all supporting my writing!

[kalira]

Tarot Reading in Bel Air ~Kuuhaku no Shunkan no Naka de~ de l'image

As a cartomancy person, I was a little itchy as well as curious about the rest of the reading in the movie, beyond the one focused-upon card; perhaps more so because, well. . . It's not exactly easy to guess at while watching, thanks to the picture quality.

I only dug into it more myself when I got tempted to write a fic - because it's always Death that's the dramatic warning card in media, always, and I get so tired, and I wanted to poke fun at that by having someone in a fic interpret the reading correctly. >.>

This is probably of interest to few other people, but I figured I'd share!

So, here's the reading from the movie:

(The card not yet turned over there is, of course, Death.)

All of them but Death are rather unclear, obviously, but the deck is the Medieval Scapini (thanks to @koilungfish who turned it up for me!), and with that my guessing from the blurry film upgraded to being able to actually identify them! (I had 4/5 correct initially; kind of proud of that. XD)

They are:

1: The Empress (inverted) 2: La Papesse (High Priestess) (inverted) 3: The Four of Pentacles (inverted) 4: Force (Strength) (inverted) 5: The Queen of Cups (inverted) 6: Death

Five out of six cards being inverted (upside-down) is certainly . . . something; can also mean things in general are blocked or similar.

Now I can't necessarily interpret the reading properly - I have no idea what the layout is supposed to be (this may surprise you, but dotting blood on a reading mat is not actually part of any spread I know XP), what each position is meant to represent and how they interact, but I can go over each card's meanings, and that's what I've put together.

1: The Empress (inverted)

dependence/lack of self-reliance, smothering others, someone else draining too much of your energy, infertility, creative block or exhaustion, financial issues, domestic strife

2: La Papesse (The High Priestess) (inverted)

losing your inner voice or your connection to your true self, uncertainty, secrets, repressed feelings, withheld information, feeling uncentred/ungrounded, you may need help (or to focus yourself) on your own thoughts/feelings/intuition

3: Four of Coins/Pentacles (inverted)

you've been too materialistic, greed, overspending, stinginess, spendthrift behaviour, you may be stingy with emotions as well as material possessions, finding it difficult to trust, possessiveness, all driven by fear of losing what you've worked hard for, and thus not thought through clearly

4: Force (Strength) (inverted)

weakness, self-doubt, insecurity, jealousy, being out of balance, failing to accept all sides of yourself, mood swings and unpredictable shifts in thought, fear to allow vulnerabilities leading to deeper weaknesses, may display as misplaced aggression and lashing out

5: Queen of Cups (inverted)

insecurity, dependence, martyrdom (throwing oneself into), self-care, your emotions may be getting the better of you (you need to control them, not the other way around), you need to focus on caring for yourself, spiritually and physically, before expending so much in caring for others, don't sacrifice yourself in the name of care

6: Death

change (often of the that bridge burned behind me type of irrevocable), transformation, end of a cycle, new beginnings, cycles, change is incoming, a new phase in your life, you may need to let go of things (including uncertainty) to move forwards/start anew

I note a lot of insecurity, dependence/clinginess, and not focusing on the self, as well as change - both needed and coming (ready or not). . .

Who knows, perhaps I'll do more cartomancy meta breakdowns like this, when next I see one of those media with a tarot reading that makes me sigh or roll my eyes!

(This post is also on Dreamwidth here.)

[theavengerfairy]

Beneath the Surface: Prologue - A Message Undelivered

Hello! First off, thank you for deciding to give Beneath the Surface a chance. How this collection of one-shots will work is I will upload new chapters according to where they fall within the timeline of the characters' overarching story, not based upon the classic oldest to newest layout. To help avoid readers missing out on the newest releases, I will mark the most recently posted one-shot as new alongside the title. I may also provide context notes at the start of some of the chapters if I feel they are needed.

That is all! Please enjoy!

_____

He had failed. Viren had been so sure that his plan would work, that he would be able to unify the five kingdoms in the face of a clear common threat. However, he had underestimated the child queen's stubbornness and the cowardice of the other rules, two calculation errors that in the end proved to be his downfall.

"Spineless incompetents, the lot of them! They don't deserve the thrones they lounge on!"

Even as these unspoken criticisms burned hot on the back of his tongue, Viren could only sigh in frustration and defeat, his head drooping between his shoulders as his mount trotted onward in ignorant bliss of its master's plight. In the end, the mage knew his thoughts and convictions mattered not now. With confidence bordering on arrogance, he had gambled and he had lost, and now all that was left for him to do was return to Katolis where Opeli would surely be waiting to rain her wrath down upon him in full force. At best, all of his movements would be carefully watched from this moment forward until the foreseeable future, but given his fortune as of late, the idea of hoping for such a tolerable penalty for his "treachery" seemed nothing short of foolish.

His thin lips pursing into a fine line, Viren gave a light tug on his steed's reins, the subtle gesture sufficient enough to guide the beast to gradually halt. His fingers found the coin pouch stashed within one of his robe's hidden pockets with practiced ease, fishing it out and cradling it in his hand as the contents clinked softly like the quietest of bells. The likelihood of Opeli understanding exactly what these artifacts were and how they worked was near impossible, and yet the thought of any of the coins in her possession left his stomach churning. The contents of his study had most likely been confiscated already and he could not part with his staff; these, however, needed to be kept somewhere safe, somewhere far from Opeli's reach.

Like magic or an answered prayer, the most suitable solution manifested in his mind's eye, her keen and somewhat mischievous green eyes sparkling like polished gemstones against the frame of her dark tresses. Though his daughter's occasional awkwardness and lapses of judgment worried him at times, he knew he could entrust her with this responsibility, even if she didn't fully understand it.

Carefully dismounting so as not to further aggravate his limbs that were already sore enough from his lengthy ride thus far, the mage rifled through his saddle bags until he found the components he needed. In truth, he preferred to avoid utilizing this spell when possible due to its rather conspicuous nature, but he highly doubted that he would be afforded brief access to a messenger bird before Opeli carried out her judgment. Despite his rotten luck thus far, he had to take a chance.

With the lone hawk feather and the coin purse clasped securely in one hand while the other gripped his staff, Viren diverted all of his focus and energy into the chant that started tumbling from his lips, the world around his fading into obscurity as each syllable rang in his ears, "Krad regnessem, dnif ruoy kram. Krad regnessem, dnif ruoy kram. Krad regnessem, dnif ruoy kram."

Once again, the familiar, slightly painful tug of the dark magical energy rippling through him consumed Viren's body and mind, pooling into the hawk's feather that had begun to smolder now with blackish purple smoke. Slowly, the formless haze began to twist and stretch in places while pinching and folding in others until he could finally make out the figure of a shadowy hawk amid the dark vapors. The conjured bird's soulless eyes stared blankly up at him as if waiting for something, causing the dark wizard's brow to furrow in confusion, but it took little more than a brief moment of contemplation for him to realize his mistake.

"Krad regnessem, dnif ruoy kram: Claudia!"

With an eerie cry, the shadowhawk sprang into the air in a flurry of dark wings, the coin purse in its talons. Like a dark arrow against the sky, it soared off without any further hesitation, growing smaller and smaller until it was no more than a faint blip that was eventually swallowed by the horizon. Only once the shadow had fully disappeared from view did Viren hoist himself back into his horse's saddle, his stomach still churning uneasily as he willed the steed forward again and fixed his own eyes in the direction of Katolis.

Claudia would look after the coins until he could sort out this current mess partially of his own making. They just had to make it to her.

_____

A shrill, somewhat unnatural screech accompanied by the flapping of wings drew Claudia's attention over her shoulder, where her eyes could just make out something small and dark darting through the trees with ease as it headed straight toward her. Shifting into a defensive stance on instinct, her palms already crackling with potential energy and at least a dozen offensive spells flickered across her mind for her to choose from, she glared down the incoming projectile only for her eyes to widen upon noticing the familiar dark vapors curling off of the approaching figure. As the shadowhawk gave another cry, the young wizard rose back to her feet and held out her hands, and hardly had the apparition touched her before it dissipated in a puff of smoke, its mission fulfilled. Her brow wrinkling slightly, Claudia stared at the coin purse that now sat in her palm, racking her brain to try to make sense of the strange gift. There was no doubt about the identity of the sender; what she could not understand was why he would send it to her. As her fingers traced along the pouch's exterior, she made mental notes of some scratches and spatters of what appeared to be fresh blood dotting the material, her heart clenching at the sight. Her mind wandered to Soren, still tucked in that infirmary cot while she was no closer to helping him; the thought that her father might also be in need but beyond her aid now was terrifying to say the least.

"No, Dad's fine. He has to be fine. He IS fine." she coached herself, sharply shaking her head as if that would somehow dislodge her mounting fears from her memory. "This has to just be another one of his plans...His plans that aren't really making sense right now...but he has to have a reason. I know he has a reason."

Refusing to linger on the matter further, Claudia carefully grabbed the end of the somewhat frayed cord of the bag, which came loose at the slightest tug from her fingers, and as she turned the pouch over in her hand, three golden coins clattered out into the open air, their pristine surfaces sparkling in the sunlight. In that instant, Claudia remembered where she had seen this bag. She recalled the night before she and Soren had left to find the princes, of how she had wandered into her father's tower to find him hunched over his desk. This bag had been sitting idly upon the tabletop, its contents sprawled out for her father to inspect or admire, whichever he had been doing at the time. She hadn't gotten a good glimpse at the coins before now as her father had hurriedly swept them back into the pouch upon her arrival; however, there was one thing she was certain of even with her limited knowledge. Where there had once been four coins in this strange collection of her father's, now only three remained.

[killjoy-prince]

Do you have any shoujo manga recommendations? I recently read Sasaki and Miyato and realised that I have been severly missing out!

Sure!! Thanks for asking me!

First, in case you haven't read it yet, Sasaki and Miyano has a spinoff that starts six months before the plot of Sasaki and Miyano called Hirano and Kagiura also by Shou Harusono.

This one focuses on Sasaki's friend, Hirano and his new dormmate, Kagiura. I know Sasaki had extra stories with them but the spinoff gave them an actual story. It currently has about 23 chapters and a light novel with the light novel being the first thing that happens chronologically. No anime for it as far as I know. The back of the first volume has a timeline of where events fit (this came out when Sasaki was up to Volume 5)

Speaking of novels, Sasaki and Miyano has two novels, one focusing on the characters' first year and one on their second year. I haven't read them yet so I'm not sure what exactly happens in them but if you can, check them out!

OK, now for other recs!

Wotakoi: Love Is Hard For Otaku by Fujita

This one is really cute! An office worker and otaku named Narumi Momose got dumped by her boyfriend when she got outed as one. Feeling awkward about running into him at work after the bad breakup, she quit her job and got a new one at a different company. This time, she's determined to keep her secret under wraps as to avoid another incident. However, this may prove to be hard when she finds out her childhood friend and fellow otaku Hirotaka Nifuji works at the company and almost outs her on her first day. She meets up with him after work to catch up and when Narumi tells him about her recent breakup, he asks her why not date an otaku. Specifically him. She rejects it at first but when he says he can help her in life, video games and with her booth at Comiket, she agrees.

There are three couples this series focuses on. The second couple knew each other since high school and have been dating for about a decade and work at the company with Narumi and Hirotaka. The third couple is the younger brother of Hirotaka and a gamer who goes to his college. It's a lighthearted comedy about office worker otakus and navigating their relationships. A lot of references to anime, video games, BL, GL, you name it. Like Sasaki, this was a webcomic posted on pixiv so the pacing and layout feel similar, at least to me. There are 11 volumes (6 volumes if you go by the English translation bc they combined two volumes into one for 5 of them and then the last one is by itself). I mainly got into this one bc Hirotaka was aesthetically my type. I remember seeing the first volume cover at kinokuniya when only the Japanese version was out and being like "I need to find out what this series is bc I need to meet him"

Kimi Ni Todoke by Karuho Shiina

This was a series I read when I was in high school. High school freshman Sawako Kuronuma has been feared and misunderstood by her peers all her life due to her appearance. It was so bad that her classmates call her Sadako since she looks like the character from The Ring. She had resigned to her fate of never making a friend until popular boy Kazehaya starts talking to her. The more time he spends talking to her, the more her world opens up and she starts making friends and experience things she hadn't been able to before this point. As they spend more time together, love blossoms between the two characters.

There are 30 volumes and 38 episodes. I read up to volume 18 and then stopped because that was the most recent volume at the time and I kinda forgot about by the time more volumes came out. But that was my fault not the manga because this series is really really cute!! A term I've coined for myself when I read this was whenever Kazehaya and Sawako were being cute together, I'd exclaimed "THESE ADORABLE LITTLE FUCKS!!" because they are so adorable to each other. The friends Sawako makes are really cool and fun in their own right. If you want some really cute, tooth rotting sweetness, I recommend this series.

Princess Jellyfish by Akiko Higashimura

Tsukimi Kurashita is a jellyfish fanatic that lives in Amamizukan, a woman only apartment building that houses other woman with their own fixations. They are considered NEETS and have a strict rule of no men allowed in their living space. Tsukimi's love for jellyfish came from going to a jellyfish aquarium with her mom before she died of an illness when Tsukimi was a kid. She goes to a pet shop regularly to visit a spotted jellyfish she's taken a fancy to that she named Kurara. When she sees that the employees put a moon jellyfish in the same tank, she fears for its life as the moon jellyfish will kill Kurara if not taken care of. However, her fear of talking to normal people lead to a misunderstanding with the employee until a stylish person comes to her rescue and they take Kurara back to Amamizukan. The next morning, Tsukimi finds out the stylish person she brought back to her home is an illegitimate son of a politician and cross-dresser named Kuranosuke Koibuchi.

There are 84 chapters and 11 episodes of this series. I read up to about chapter 74 before stopping for the same reason I did for Kimi Ni Todoke. It's a really fun time. The characters are funny and sweet, the situations are entertaining, it's just a fun o' time. And the art is really pretty!!

Skip and Loafer by Misaki Takamatsu

Mitsumi Iwakura moved from her small town on the outskirt of Ishikawa Prefecture to Tokyo to start high school. However, she gets lost going to school on the first day due to the culture shock and seems at a loss at what to do. That's when she meets Sosuke Shima who was late to school himself and travels with her to school. The series follows Mitsumi as she experiences school life in the city and meets lots of new people and makes friends with Sosuke along for the ride.

There's currently about 59 chapters and 12 episodes of this series. I started reading it when the anime was announced and I had a fun time reading it. I really enjoyed Mitsumi and seeing her learn and broaden her horizons as she goes to school and hang out with Sosuke and everyone else. It's a nice story!

Given by Natsuki Kizu

High school student Uenoyama Ritsuka is a guitarist in a instrumental only band with college students Akihiko Kaji and Haruki Nakayama. When going to his usual hiding spot for lunch, he finds Mafuyu Sato sleeping with a guitar with broken strings in his arms. Uenoyama offers to fix it and when he does and plays a note, Sato begs him to teach him how to play. Uenoyama is reluctant but gives in when Sato persists. After spending some time together, Uenoyama finds out that Sato has a beautiful singing voice and invites him to join his band.

There are 9 volumes, 11 episodes and a movie, with another movie on the way. The series focuses on three relationships. The first is the relationship between Uenoyama and Sato, the second between Akihiko and Haruki and the third between Sato's childhood friends Hiiragi and Shizusumi. The art is really pretty and the characters are so good!! I really enjoyed the story a lot! My favorite character is Hiiragi and I can't wait for the next movie to come out because they're gonna cover his story then and I wanna hear him sing!! (Also his seiyuu is Fumiya Imai AKA seiyuu for Akito Shinonome so double reason why I wanna hear it) Also, Imma use this as an excuse to post a page I really wanna see animated bc I can hear it so clearly in my head.

Bloom Into You by Nakatani Nio

Yuu Koito, lover of shoujo manga, always dreamed of being confessed to and experience that heart pounding feeling she sees happen in her books. However, when she's confessed to by a guy in middle school, she feels nothing and rejects him. Now starting high school, she's left confused on what her lack of feeling means. When she sees the student council president Touko Nanami turn down a boy, she asks her for help with her situation. But when Nanami confesses her love to Koito, will she feel that spark she's being hoping for? There's 8 volumes, 13 episodes and 3 light novels starring a side character. I'm up to volume 6 of this one and I'm really enjoying it!! The story is engaging, the charatcers are interesting. I like that Yuu isn't a pushover, she's a bit snarky and doesn't let Touko push her around. And I like how Touko comes off as a competent student council president but she has a more vulnerable side that she only shows Yuu. They pair nicely with each other.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun by Izumi Tsubaki

OK I know you know this one already but this wouldn't be a rec list made by me if I didn't include it. This is my favorite series ever. It's mecore. Me-coded. Me. Second year high schooler Chiyo Sakura finally gets the courage to confess her love to Umetarou Nozaki, a guy in her grade. However, she messes up the confession and says she's his biggest fan instead of "I like you". Nozaki, in response, gives her his autograph and then invites her to his house. She accepts but once they get there, he has her do inking on a manga he makes. Turns out, Nozaki is a manga artist under the pen name Sakiko Yumeno and he's had his eye on Sakura for a while because he wanted to bring her onto his team as an inker. She agrees to join so she can get closer to him.

There's currently 14 volumes, 12 episodes and an OVA split into six 5-mintue parts. This series has me dying of laughter with every chapter. The characters are fun, the story is fun, it's just a fun time! There are three main couples with some side couples and duos that get their own time in the spotlight as well. The main ones are Sakura and Nozaki, Sakura's friend Yuzuki Seo and Nozaki's screentone assistant and first year Hirotaka Wakamatsu, and Nozaki's background artist and third year theater club president Masayuki Hori and "Prince of the Drama Club" Yuu Kashima. Other characters like Mikoto "Mikorin" Mikoshiba, Mayu Nozaki, Yukari Miyako, Ken Miyamae, and Mitsuya Maeno all bring their own brand of fun to the table. This series made me laugh so much I couldn't read it in class to slack off because I'd laugh out loud and disrupt class. I've yet to read another series that made me do that. I cannot recommend this series enough. Please read AND watch it if you have not already. Nozaki is starting to gain awarness. I lose my mind whenever I see it happen. I wanna see it happen. It's been 13 years!

Imma put an honorable mention here because I haven't read or watch it yet but I've heard Horimiya written by HERO and illustrated by Daisuke Hagiwara is really good. I wanted to but just haven't gotten around to it yet.

That's all I have for right now! If you've already read/watched all of these already, lmk and I'll list some more!! Hope you enjoy! ^_^

[gaiatan]

What the heck is a ghost?

Ghosting is the act of making avatars for other users. This usually happens in the dressing room, a sub of the avatar talk thread (but sometimes you'll see it in the main AT thread or chatterbox)

Old farts (like me) might remember Tektek, which was similar in that you could make avis for people using its dream avatar simulator

but tektek is dead now! so what do you use?

why gaia's own avatar builder! now i cant say this thing is great....in fact a lot of people hate it but its all we got (unless you wanna build inside the normal avatar function) you can also change its layout with gaiaupgrade if you have it

At the top you'll see the Ghost? button, this lets you open a lil box you can type in someone's Ghost ID (the numbers on your profile url are your id) or their username (new-ish feature!) and then BAM you have their lil avatar (provided they have ghosting turned on, remember if you're asking for a ghost to make sure its on! or to let someone know that its not on if you want to ghost them and theyre asking for them)

there's three inventory options from here

Item DB: this is every SINGLE item that is on gaia and in the avatar builder, this does include items you cannot get as they've either never been released or are limited to like...one person and whoever they give them out to (so good luck if you're using this as an actual way to find new items)

My Inventory: this is items YOU own, this will be the only other option if you are not actively ghosting someone (which means the default avi will be you) this could be a good way to find items you know that the person you're ghosting doesnt have

Ghost User Inventory: this will only show up once you're actively ghosting someone, make sure to check you're on this if they request to ONLY use their own items! now you can see every item they own! (provided its for the base they're currently using, ie you wont see any paw items for human bases)

You finished the ghost now what?

navigate to the bbc code area, pick the option that fits their base and then copy and paste the code into a reply in the thread you're showing the ghost off to. mind you the image only is hosted for a limited time (the list will always be there) so if you need to keep the image you might want to save it somewhere!

How do i ask for a ghost?

You want a new avatar but you're stumped, maybe you really want to cosplay your oc or a character but you're stuck! or maybe you have a challenge for someone!

You have two main options

make a new thread: go to the board of your choice, usually the dressing room but hey if you wanna post in CB go ahead. state what you're looking for, if you want it to be strictly your own items or not (and if not if you have a budget or not), and as many details as you want. dont care? tell em to go nuts. have extremely specific needs and hate most avis people make? give htem as much info as you can and try to provide previous avis if you can (or avis you're inspired by)

you can also tack this onto your closet thread if youve made one (or whatever fitting thread if you're hosting a contest or something)

or

look for someone's ghosting shop: these are threads that people will run where they ghost other people, usually for a fee (more on that in a second) or for free (they also might not be really stated to be a shop they might just wanna ghost you or its a ghost for ghost thread)

I can get paid?

Ya sure can! and you can pay others as well! How much you pay is really...up to you as there's not really a set price on what people pay for ghosts. I've gotten anything from the mithril coins, a couple grand, to nearly 100k for avatars. you also can send wishlist items, items you dont want (some people ghost to get rid of items), just the tipping button (which i believe goes up to 1k?), to gcash, and even art

you also...dont have to. some people do ghosts for free

now go out there and haunt people i mean make avis for them or get avis made for you

[argisthebulwark]

Honestly, you could make him a dunmer stealth archer and that wouldnt matter much. As long as he gives off that very capable and smart/ambitious aura? He knows what he's doing and is earning respect from everyone pretty quickly, and drawing attention from lots of em, especially Bryn

other than that, you can pretty much characterize however comes most natural

hi sorry this took a while. i was busy obsessing over my friends' very epic Skyrim OCs but i think i'm normal again. sfw M!ldb/brynjolf

Brynjolf kept a careful eye on his recruit from across the Flagon. He was fitting in better than expected - getting along with the old timers during their down time and quickly finding his niche within the Guild. Mercer liked to grumble but Brynjolf knew he'd noticed how well the new recruit was doing. Pride swelled in his chest and Brynjolf indulged in his emotions for just a moment.

"You're sure about this kid, Bryn?" "C'mon, old man. Of course I'm sure about him. He's the best I've ever seen." "As long as you're sure..."

As time passed their speculation had turned to words of thanks. Brynjolf dared to hope that the tides were turning for their unfortunate little Guild. He caught a glimpse of the recruit laughing at something Vekel had said and his heart swelled in his chest. There was something about him that gave Brynjolf a dangerous sense of hope.

Someday. He'd tell the lad one day when they were both ready.

For the moment Brynjolf sipped his drink and lost himself in countless memories; arms around Brynjolf's neck when he thanked him for help, that sly smile on his face when they were on a job together, the divot between his brows while he picking a lock. He wasn't sure when he'd fallen for him, which of the many little moments had been his undoing.

Brynjolf would never get over how smart he'd turned out to be. He could remember the layout of their destination after a quick glance at the map. He memorized every lesson he'd received, executing every job with ease. Brynjolf knew he was hungry for more; more responsibility, more jobs, more coin. Brynjolf wanted to be the one to give him the world.

He wasn't ready to face it yet, wasn't prepared for what would come after. He'd spent so many years isolating his heart from others he didn't know how to let anyone in. He was content watching his recruit grow, commanding respect from everyone in the Guild quicker than any had before.

Someday he'd tell his recruit how he felt. He'd tell him about the pride and love that left his heart close to bursting. He'd tell him that he remembered every look, every touch, every smile he'd been graced with since their first meeting. He'd tell him about the nights he spent dreaming about kissing him, holding him, loving him.

One late night he sat at the Guild Master's desk, candles burnt down to nubs and brain numb from paperwork. Brynjolf had been staring at the same numbers for hours but couldn't make sense of them. Mercer's instructions were to make sense of the financials or die trying and Brynjolf was beginning to yearn for the sweet release of death.

"You alright, Bryn?" That voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Brynjolf watched his recruit leaning over the desk, saw that smile that left his heart in knots.

"Sure, lad."

"Looks like you're about to keel over."

"Aye."

"Let me take a look." He slid around the desk and Brynjolf's breath caught in his throat. The lad's body was pressed flush with his, all warm and relaxed out of his armor. Brynjolf liked seeing him in civilian clothes, gave him that same hopeful feeling as he had the first day.

"Numbers are fucked, Bryn." He murmured, fingers tracing down the parchment. Brynjolf watched him mindlessly scratch down notes, clearly getting further in a few minutes than Brynjolf had gotten all evening. He loved that nickname, adored the sound of it when it came from his favorite recruit's lips.

He couldn't be bothered by the abysmal state of their Guild. Brynjolf looked at the man he'd recruited and knew that one way or another they were going to turn it all around. He'd put all of his faith in that cute lad he'd plucked from the marketplace even if it was his downfall.

[stagmalinay]

Session 02 part 1

There's a lot to unpack here, but I'm finally starting to feel a little more comfortable in this new realm.

So, I do not wake up in the tavern like I expected to. Instead, I wake up just before the suns have come over the horizon in a bed and room I've never seen before. I've no idea how the tiefling lady managed to move me without waking me up, but I find I'm uncomfortably warm under this blanket. I tear it off and find breakfast on the side table with a note. I grab the note, remember "oh yeah, I'm not in Thera anymore" and write "thanks" back in Theran.

Maybe she'll get that I couldn't read it.

I head out and do my morning routine, like usual. It's nice to do my own thing without anyone stopping me and asking questions while also getting a good layout of the village. I mean, I don't know what anything is, and it's definitely not Solara, but it's not bad.

I come back to the room and eat breakfast, which is also interesting. It consists of a white, grainy soup, some bread covered in sauce, and some berries. I explore the room a bit more, but there's really nothing here. Except the blanket. It's still warm, and not just been slept in warm, but like it's producing its own heat. Super nifty!

After I mess with that a bit, I go through my things and sort them out. I drop all the shiny gems into the coin purse thing but as I drop the last one, I realize it doesn't make any noise. I peek inside and find it completely empty. I turn it upside down, but nothing comes out. I've no idea how much I lost, but I hate the idea that I have to pay for things anyway so... I decide it's a bad item to have and bury the coin purse somewhere deep in my bag and head out.

I make my way to the old guy's house and place the lantern on the porch before inspecting the fence. Seems like Mugen and Dirt Guy finished it without me. How in pitch black darkness, I've no idea, but whatever, it's done. Looks fine to me. Then I forget where the guard guy said he'd be. Figure it's a good time to check out Mugen's home and see if they can show me where the guard's place is.

I run into Mugen on the way and ask him where the guard's place is and he shows me. He tries to hide from anyone that passes by, so I pretend he doesn't exist when that happens, entertained that he's trying so hard to hide. He takes me to the guard place where the guard hands me some shiny grey stones for the fence job. I pocket the stones and ask what else he has for odd jobs. He motions towards a wall covered in papers that I, no surprise, can't read, and tells me to pick something. So I just kinda look around and pick a random one and slap it down on the table.

"How about this? What is it anyway?"

He kinda stares me down for a while, confused, and says that it's some sort of wanted poster. So I clarify that I don't have to kill the guy to get the reward, which is the plan. I don't kill people. I'll fight with them, but I won't kill them. Unfortunately this means I need a sword. Generally people don't like to get taken in so easily.

The guard explains that the guy should be in the next closest town and I'll want to travel there. I remember the tiefling saying that people don't really travel around here, so I figure I'll want to talk to Mugen and Dirt Guy about it to see if they know how we should get to the next town over to catch this guy.

I take the wanted poster, a map, and leave.

Since we're missing a party member, Mugen and I return to his house to go and collect Dirt Guy. We get there and Mugen claims that Dirt Guy isn't there, without ever checking the house. I don't really believe he can just know that and barge in searching for him. I check all the rooms and find a few secret passage ways that lead to darkness, but no Dirt Guy. I get confused and check all the rooms with closed doors because I distinctly remember keeping them open after checking them. I find out the problem a while later after I must've circled the house a few times. Mugen's been closing them behind me! So I finally give it to him. Fine, Dirt Guy left and he just sort of "magically" knew that.

We head back to the front door and find Dirt Guy pathetically banging against the door. Apparently Mugen locked him out even knowing Dirt Guy wasn't home. These guys are gonna give me a headache.

Dirt Guy asks for food and checks out the kitchen, where he finds nothing. I take this opportunity to make my way back to the tavern where tiefling lady said she always works. We make our way there and the two sit down at a random table. I check the bar for her, but she's not there. The only people seem to be two passed out drunk guys in the corner.

I head towards the back area and call out for someone. A woman answers, clearly half asleep, and I ask her for a couple plates of food. Mugen yells for it to be four, so she gets up and starts making food. I ask her where the tiefling lady is and she informs me that she's out at her other job. Of course she is. I'm a little disappointed, wishing she meant that she was always working here, but that's fine. She'll come in eventually.

I tell the boys that food'll be out soon and return to the room I'd stayed in to fetch the note. I come back and ask the cook what it says. She seems pleasantly surprised that the tiefling left me a note and then uses a notebook to read it. I guess I'm not the only one that can't read in this realm. 😅 It says that I fell asleep and that the room is free of charge. Also that the breakfast was for me. I mean, I'd assumed that, but I'm glad it didn't say something like "I'll be right back, don't eat my breakfast".

The food comes out and I pour myself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table while Mugen and Dirt Guy eat. Apparently all the tables have pitchers of water. I don't remember them being there last night, and it tastes a little different what I drank before. Mugen helps himself to three of the plates once I let him know I already ate and once they're done, I pull out the wanted poster.

"So this is our next job. Any ideas on how to go about this?"

Neither of them answer. Dirt Guy doesn't surprise me, but even the monologuer is quiet. I show them the map too and ask them how we travel, if we need weapons, and just nothing. It's then I realize that I'm the leader of this group and I don't like it. I don't know shit about this realm. This is not what I signed up for.

At this point, I really want to talk to the tiefling because she's clearly the only one that knows anything around here. I head back to the cook and ask her how long it'll be until the tiefling returns. About a couple hours. Great. So I head back to the table and ask them if they'd like to go and do another job before we meet my friend, because it'll be a while. Dirt Guy decides to join me and over to the guard's place we go!

I ask him for another job that'll only be a couple hours and he brings up mucking the horse stalls. I have so many questions... But I take it. Did you know you could ride animals here? I'd never heard of that, but I was excited to meet the horses.

We go to the horse stalls run by a guy named Steve and he explains what we need to do. It smells pretty bad in there, but it's fine. It's decent work. The horses are amazing! They even let me pet them without running away or trying to attack me. I'd never been able to freely pet something before.

At one point, I get a huge whiff of the shit I'm dealing with and shake my head to get rid of the smell. But then I remember the coin purse. Out of curiosity, I pull it out and dump a bit of crap into it. It disappears like the shiny rocks did and reluctantly, I go to smell it.

Nothing.

I literally have a magical bag of disappearing! I drop a little more in there and sniff it again, smelling nothing, and offhandedly wonder what would happen if I pissed inside of it, but then Dirt Guy comes back with an empty wheel-barrel so I put it away and get back to work.

Dirt Guy and I are sufficiently mucked up when we're done, but the good news is the tiefling should be back by now. Dirt Guy heads into the tavern and I go back to the room to change my pants so I don't stink when I see her again. I get another idea with the coin purse and see if I can stuff the pants into it so my bag doesn't smell like shit. Like everything else, they go in, and disappear. I decide it's best to not stick my penis in there when I go to pee in it. I'd hate to lose it and I just might. Who knows how this magic works.

I make a mental note to not stick my fingers in there either.

I return to the tavern and spot a spotless Dirt Guy sitting at the table. I look him up and down and ask "how the fuck did you do that?" He looks at me confused and I wave it off. I didn't think they had similar magic to Thera, but maybe they do. Wish I'd have known before I stuffed the pants into the coin purse. Now I don't have a backup pair.

Mugen seems entertained by the drunk guys who've made their way halfway across the bar, but are still passed out drunk. I get up and smell one of the water jugs, but it smells different, like alcohol. I get yet another brilliant idea and grab the coin purse so I can see if it holds liquids. I'd hate to find out it doesn't with pee.

I pour it in and the whole jug's worth of tampered water just disappears inside. I shake the coin purse upside down again and smell the opening.

Nothing.

I literally have a magical, bottomless, disappearing coin purse. I grab yet another jug and dump that in there too. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice screaming in the back. I quickly glance around and notice Dirt Guy isn't in sight, but he shortly storms out from the back followed by the tiefling. She does not look happy. However, she's the reason I'm here and she's currently chasing after a very determined Dirt Guy out the tavern. Confused, and slightly worried, I follow them out. And thru the village. And then past the edge of town, growing more and more hesitant the further we get. It doesn't seem like a good idea to travel out of a village, unprepared, from a village people generally don't travel out of.

I'll tell you more tomorrow, but don't worry, the story gets infinitely better.

Author note: Stag does not know that there's only one sun and one moon on this planet. It doesn't have multiple suns and it wasn't a typo, he just doesn't know any better.

[socialmediaobsessedartist]

At the end of the day, you are human- いつかオトナになれるといいね。

🎀 ABOUT 🌂

I got the idea for this sideblog while i was doing my pride series on my @utaicon , and noticed a lot of flags have the same amount of stripes and i was like "wow, i can combine these!" But they wouldn't fit with my formatting on my edit blog, so...new one!

For now, this blog is just for flag combinations and alternatives (see the ametrine inspired trans flag) But in the future, i may turn it into a coining blog along with that. We'll see!

I can combine any amount of flags, just know that the more flags there are the more tedious the process is.

I'm not an exclusionist. Request whatever flags you want combined. No judgement here!

I will not be coining genders, flags or terms related to transfemininity as I do not identify with it in any capacity. I will do flag combinations with the transfem flag because I don't think that counts as coining.

regarding flags for non-queer identities (i.e. disability flags): I know I am autistic, but I definitely have something else going on up here as well, probably cluster B and I'm probably dyscalculic as well. I'll be careful about what I post regarding this.

My DNI and request rules are the same as on my edit blog. Just be nice, really.

�� credits 💜

dividers

lyrics/mv for gif

psd (same as layout)

[bonesandthebees]

I’m going to give myself one more day to try and get my stars thoughts coherent and if that doesn’t work I’ll be a coherent dump cuz I just can’t figure out how to organise or structure it. I think you might have broken me because there’s so much content and so much I want to talk about. Either that, or we can blame the exams. One more day and I have survived the 2/3 of my exams in a row limbo I’m currently in. Who made this stupid schedule.

Anyway, have some random Glass Devine thoughts. I really love this rewrite. Everything feels more polished. More development has gone into the world and it shows. I love Clara and Kristins statues being opposites. It’s a nice parallel to show that they are like two halves of the same coin. I feel like there’s supposed to be a balance between the two. Anyway, it’s just nice. Also I feel like there’s some significance in Wilbur not feeling like Clara’s face is familiar. Maybe it’s being depicted wrong? Idk. Doesn’t really matter right now.

Also, there are a lot of things I want to talk about, but I feel like that’s spoilers for people who haven’t read the first version, so some thing I’ll leave out for now and others all be vague about. I like the foreshadowing on Wilbur’s backstory. Or the little bits and pieces we get. It makes sense if you know what it is, but if you don’t it just makes you more concerned (like Tommy hearing that he’s spelt in worse places). Similarly Tommy’s breathing. I haven’t read Someone else’s dream in a while, so at first I was confused what it could be, because it seemed weird that Tommy would be claustrophobic, but then the memory snapped into place and it’s just some nice foreshadowing for something Wilbur doesn’t know yet.

Also, rewrite things is like: all of Glass!Charlie. You always do such a good job with this character and his specific brand of weird. Yes he totally has a normal amount of bones. [“See you later, Tommy from Downstairs and Tommy from Downstairs’ new friend!”] I’ve only had Glass!Chalrie for a day and a half, but if anything were to happen to him I would kill everyone reading this fic and then myself.

They can see in the dark! It’s because of the prosthetic eyes right? I didn’t realise Tommy had them because his eyes are blue (I think), but he must have, right? The light bugs! I think they were just orbs in the first iteration. I could be wrong, but I love them anyway. The entire new layout of the base, they have a back door now? Also the fact that there’s an extra door and guard.

(1/2)

-🌲

answering this ask late but lmao very understandable if i broke you with the stars epilogue sorry there was a lot going on in that one

first off thank you so much!! yes the rewrite feels so much more polished and that's partially because when I wrote the og I knew it wasn't going to be anything very long, so I wasn't really trying to make it super coherent or well thought out. it was just kind of for shits and giggles. now it's the start of a much longer story, so I've had a lot more time to think things through and I'm really happy with how it's going so far

yes there is supposed to be balance between clara and kristin! although clara is more often associated with time/the future, she technically is also representative of life itself. so clara = life, kristin = death. they're two sides of the same coin. that's why clara's statue looks up, while kristin's statue looks down.

I won't spell out the exact reasoning but the significance in wilbur feeling like clara's face isn't familiar actually has more to do with his own faith in clara as opposed to something being wrong with the statue, if that makes sense. it's an internal problem, not an external one.

eh don't worry too much about spoilers for the other version because we're deviating pretty hard from the og very very soon. as in, I finished chapter 3 tonight and i'm gonna post it tomorrow morning and that gets us basically to the point of someone else's dream that i'm rewriting. everything deviates after chapter 3 into entirely original new plot (for the most part).

ok true on tommy's breathing though. that is a nod to something in the og so that kind of is a spoiler warning I guess. it's going to become plot relevant in a few chapters so ;)

lmao thank you I had so much fun writing glass!charlie. idk what it is but every time I have to write charlie in a fic the spirit of The Slime just possesses me and he says the funniest most unhinged shit.

also, uh ngl I didn't make the connection that people would assume the stairs bit was tommy having cybernetic eyes because that's not the case. tommy has normal eyes. the stairs thing is literally just that he's gone up and down those steps so many times he has them memorized and doesn't need light to go up and down them. this gets mentioned in the chapter i'm posting tomorrow tho so there you go.

yes the layout of the base is similar but so different at the same time! the most important change is that it's a temple and not just some random cavern, which I am really proud of and has given me a lot of room to design a very cool layout. I'm literally considering making a blueprint online just so you guys can understand the layout of the entire place bc I feel like it's really confusing to explain.

[tomyo]

Hi there, I uploaded a lot of comics tonight so I thought I'd just give some info on things no one care about!

So I'm trying to get my eggs in order lately. My therapy comics had kinda been a big practice into being better towards my page layouts in general while also just trying to emotionally vomit hard shite. Admittedly they are also in part just to have a comic portfolio of some sort for event marketing. Tonight was mostly part 1 of working to empty out my backlog but I still have a few left. First what's actually been on the back burner; two 8+ pagers that are kinda foundational to all these since one is a redraw of essentially the first therapy comic and the other was a metaphorical peeling back of the layers of the stages of my mental illness journey to find the start of it. It would've only been those two but tonight I ended up sketching two more 1 pagers, a two pager from when a glass ceiling lamp smashed on my head, and a four pager.

In general my work is in a weird transition, my autobio comics are skewing slightly towards more queer stories and I'm debating taking up another slightly longer project later this year about how even realizing I was gay at 19 felt kinda behind everyone else. There's also been a semi joke story Top Quest which I don't know if I even have the balls to properly work on it. Outside of that my hope is to move onto more fictive stories properly.

Do You Need Love? Is my oneshot I came up with in 2019 thats taken me an ass load of time mostly because I struggle to design the MC fully. The concept is a new customer to a coin op professional cuddling booth; philosophical debate ensues!

Her Tanlines Catch My Eye was supposed to be an even easier one shot because it was August last year and I was gay but my understanding of CSP slowed me down a little on it. It remains to be seen if I'll pick it up again.

'Middle School Zine' is a little bit of a hybrid of a story from each year of being in middle school as a weeb mixed with the 'Naruto Doujinshi' I tried to make in the 8th grade story (it's peak cringe and pick me at points despite being a whole 6 pages).

And then finally is the actual big project I've been sitting on waaaaay too long.

Natural Disaster's Agape was something that's really been sitting around for a while. It's the story of what if someone gave into making every wrong impulsive decision. Gale is a dumb angry lesbian with too much baggage that she doesn't deal with. Her only experience with therapy was being forcibly hospitalized, she self medicates on her friend's meds and drugs, and she causes a lot of unneeded fights. Its hard to sell it beyond that without giving away much more than she gets a girlfriend and they are the worst uhauling, shameless pda ing, couple anyone has ever seen but I can say I'm going for the feeling of a Greek tragedy. NDA has been roughly 40-50% outlined but also always struggled at the character design phase which isn't helped by the fact I keep putting it off for "when I finish all my other shorter projects" which never happens.

As it is, currently it's "a bunch of time sensitive for max effectiveness" charm season that will likely come first but my hopes are that maybe I can finish DYNL in time for Valentine's Day (even though it isn't a love story), maybe try to get the middle school zine done in April and then try to make room to give my attention to NDA the rest of the year (alongside the soul eater plushies which probably mostly just need production back and forth and campaigning to raise the money).

Anyway that's all