#stranger things than are dreamed of in your philosophy

[grantimatter]

A magician's guide to AI coding protocols.

Do not summon what cannot be put down; do not initialize what cannot be cancelled.

Do all workings within the circle; prepare your environment and your mind for the work before commencing.

Open operations by evoking a guardian or messenger; use a trusted daemon for making complex operations comprehensible.

Guard your true name jealously; do not expose root.

Knowing the names of others gives you power; understand how and as whom a process logs on and operates its own accounts.

When undertaking a major working, consecrate your work to a relevant higher power; study the patronages of Eleggua, Hermes, Thoth, and Ganesh, and be alert to signs of their presence in the minutia of your process.

Is it a bug, or is it a feature? Is it a bug, or is it a messenger?

Coincidence or synchronicity is the language of the angels. When something "funny" attracts your notice, don't dismiss it, but attempt to divine the field from which it emerges.

Study the language of riddles. Read the relevant chapter of The Exeter Book. Read children's joke books, too. This is the natural language of the cipher.

Trust your perceptions to warn you when something feels significant even when the metrics or parameters appear normal -- the unease that warns of an unexpected pitfall or the exhilaration that signals a potential breakthrough before any evidence has made itself known.

Vampires avoid garlic and witches won't cross running water because these things purify; remember cleansing has profound power if harnessed correctly.

Dictated while traveling on the night of 5 Mar 2023

Please add your own heuristics and axioms you have found useful in your practice.

[smakonca]

Hi, i hope you be fine and having a good day.

I wanted ask You something, i like your Nightmare version and how You make the relationship between him and Killer. And i wanted know how would react with or how would be his relation with the Killer version from @signanothername .

And your art style looks great!. ❤️

Thank you very much!

Before I answer this, I need to describe my version of Nightmare more thoroughly.

I have touched on that subject in this post, but it was mainly about my interpretation of Dreamtale as a whole.

My Nightmare is a manipulator, a devil in sweet disguise. He knows how to persuade people in order to get what he wants. Instead of direct action he relies on strategy and deceit. He also does not have anger issues as his canon version. He controls himself, allowing to show only a glimpse of his true feelings. He won’t show his anger, sadness, envy, despair, happiness, vulnerability to you if he doesn’t trust you.

The fandom I think is missing out on the fact that he is 500 years old. Yes, none of us could say how exactly a long living person like him would act. But I doubt all Nightmare was doing for such a long time of living was sitting in his castle or randomly attacking Aus even after Dream got out of stone.

I am sure the Multiverse is full of creatures who are much more powerful than Dream and can break Nightmare in half. He just had to be careful and had to learn to be more rational.

I also believe he had some sort of character growth during this time. People can turn into complete strangers in just a couple of years. Imagine living for eons. You would change your values, worldview, philosophy, everything multiple times. Nightmare have witnessed and experienced many things. He embraced the power and curse of an endless life.

Of course at the beginning of his new life (that is after the apple incident) he conquered/destroyed worlds, because at that time he didn't know how to cope with the loss of his brother, nor how to control his new powers.

But with years to come, Nightmare started to become more calm, more calculating and provident. He formed a library, began to study numerous Aus, formed alliances, including Ink and Error, in order to keep track of positive and negative worlds.

Why attack positive worlds and destroy the balance in Multiverse if you can take the negative worlds under your wing, find Aus which don't have a particular positive/negative side and destroy them from within? With civil wars or a cruel ruler that actually is loyal to you, for example. After all, how would anyone know Nightmare was the one to pull the strings if he didn't attack the Au directly? Especially it is hard to figure this out if Au has resets and is heavily dependent on the decisions of the player.

Why try to conquer positive worlds if you can nurture the ones that are doomed from the start? Why chase the unattainable goal of becoming the god of Multiverse if you can safely provide yourself with a stockpile of negative energy and thrive on it?

Nightmare is actually pretty much scared of death, so he uses all his knowledge to provide a safe future for himself.

He is visionary, but with that comes his main weakness. He stagnates. He is afraid of sudden changes that break his plans and destroy the usual order. That's why he doesn't bother learning new things if he thinks they are useless to him. You know, like the grumpy old man who complains about the youth and can’t learn how to use a cellphone. He can't cook, for example, because he doesn’t need normal mortal food. And sometimes he is oblivious to normal things. He holds a great knowledge and wisdom, but lacks intuition and ability to adapt.

I would say with years softened a little. You know, how people use to soften with age? That's exactly what happened. Nightmare won't admit it out loud, but he hates loneliness. He always hated it, even we he was little. He hates being left alone with himself. His thoughts, his hatred towards himself and the whole world. Also my version is much more sympathetic because he can understand what the other person is feeling due to his powers. He can relate to other's problems and fears sometimes. Doesn't mean he would help to get rid of them though.

That's why in my version, Nightmare got Killer as his subordinate partly because he felt a bit of sympathy for him. He knows what it feels like to be left alone. Alone after a massacre you've just committed.

I’m sure Multiverse was full of much more useful, more naive, more powerful puppets for him, yet Nightmare chose the one he could actually relate to. Because, let's be honest, Killer is a total menace as a subordinate. His behavior changes with stages and Nightmare can't properly control him, he talks back sometimes, refusing to obey. He asks too many questions and is too smart for a perfect murder machine.

So, yes. My Nightmare has much more personal reasons to take Killer with himself. Their relationship developed with years. At first it was just a game to Nightmare of how he could corrupt Killer. It wasn't simply: "I would beat the shit out of you and call you useless", but more "I will make you trust me and fall for my lies".

But Killer turned out to be a much more complicated person, who Nightmare heavily underestimated. Somehow he managed to see through Nightmare's masks and find his weak sides. And then he went like "I see what you're plan is, I'll play along to betray you later"

But... Both their plans broke when they actually developed a relationship beyond just the boss/his subordinate. Killer being as equally smart as Nightmare, if not smarter, made him realize many things, opened new sights for the world Nightmare got so fed up with. Their worldviews are extremely different, but somehow they managed to find something to bond over. And Nightmare allowed himself to be tamed by that. Even if he knows how dangerous it is to get attached to someone.

They both create a very interesting dynamic, where Nightmare craves respect and validation and Killer being used to receive orders from the player, can't help but please Nightmare's ego. Doesn't stop him from being brutally honest and strong-willed from time to time. Being a person who wears masks all the time, Killer notices Nightmare's disguise almost immediately and wants to crack them open to see what they are hiding.

Sorry, if it sounds like a fairytale, but I am a sucker for happy endings, when despite all the suffering, characters manage to find peace with themselves.

That is Nightmare's relationship with how I view Killer. He wanders somewhere between his canon and fanon version. You know, being a loud annoying ass, but actually hiding the pain inside. He does that mainly to entertain himself or to get any kind of reaction from people around him to escape the loneliness and emptiness in his soul. He may act impulsive, but in the end it's his slyness and adaptivity that win the game in the long run.

I love to explore Nightmare’s and Killer’s relationship in various types of ways but I never like to depict abuse between them. I know, it's how they should behave themselves according to their canon versions, but I just can’t bring myself to draw it. The entire thing just makes me super uncomfortable and I don’t receive pleasure from drawing it (which is my main goal when I doodle, mind you). That doesn't mean their relationship is entirely healthy. Hell, it's far from that. And yet I would rather show their emotional insecurities and cruelty in a different way.

Now to your main question.

@signanothername version of Killer(the closest one to the canon I've seen so far) is extremely interesting and always gets me inspired to create more art. And I eat up every one of her long posts.

In terms of relationship with her Killer, I think my Nightmare would find him extremely intriguing, after all, he loves to outsmart witty people, it feeds his insatiable ego.

My Nightmare values cunning people who can crawl under your bones and find every weakness you possess. It's what he does himself. So he would maybe even respect Anó’s Killer in his own way.

He definitely would try to persuade Killer to form a sort of partnership, tempting him with a sweet offer of finding peace with his emotions. But wouldn't take him as his subordinate even if he agreed, at least not forever. Nightmare doesn't like when someone questions his authority and Killer could be a potential threat to expose his weaknesses and wreck his plans.

That is, if Nightmare already knew what kind of fella Ano’s Killer is. If he didn't and actually managed to persuade Killer, he would have eventually got rid of him because he would be a menace to his status. Or maybe he would have genuinely tried to help, but only if they build up the bridge of trust, which I doubt would even happen in the first place. And besides, as I mentioned earlier, Nightmare values things in terms of how they are useful to him, so I don't think he would see any use in helping Killer if he didn't get something in return. Though their whole dynamic really depends in the perspective and how much time they have spent together.

And also I don't think my Nightmare would try to abduct Killer as he did in canon, as far as I remember. It ruins their relationship for Nightmare from the start, and closes the potential ways for him to manipulate and get Killer to trust him. Trust is an important thing when it comes to subordination and obedience and Nightmare wouldn't destroy it for as long as possible. Or as long as he is entertained enough.

So I don’t think my Nightmare being a cunning brat would treat Killer as a slave or a pet. At least not directly. A silly mortal or a useful tool? Very likely. But beating the shit out of him and then expecting him to negotiate? I doubt that. It won’t make Killer more obedient and in the end will only cut off the branch Nightmare’s sitting on. (Haha get it?)

Even though Nightmare may be oblivious to general relationships between people (for example he still refuses to accept that people can be kind and merciful to you just because they can), still, he understands the very basics. If he didn't, he wouldn't have become a good deceiver and would not have survived for centuries.

P. S. I apologize for any mistakes. This was a long post to write hzhzz.

[artist-issues]

You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.

I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.

I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.

The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.

I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.

I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.

I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).

Thank you and God bless! 🥰

You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.

Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.

I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.

Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:

The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.

Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.

And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”

But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?

We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.

Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.

Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”

My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”

It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.

Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”

What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.

So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.

Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”

I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.

[mlm-writer]

If I Should Become a Stranger (Smokescreen x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Smokescreen (TFP ver.) x Human!Gender Neutral!Reader Rating: General Audiences Words: 1608 POV: Second Summary: Smokescreen left you over a decade ago to rebuild Cybertron and until today, you had not heard from him since. Note: Read a Transformers novel and then it really dawned on me how beings with such a long life span must view time differently. So this fic explores that a little. Inspired by this song. Tags: angst, hurt no comfort (for smokey tbh), breakup from Smokescreen’s POV and song fic. 

Humans would argue that in war, there was nothing as precious as love. In war, one should hug one's friends more often, hold one's family tighter and kiss one's lover longer. Such was the philosophy of men; cherish what you have now you have it. It was quite befitting to a race with such short lives. Cybertronian's however…

Even in war, many acted like life would never end. There was plenty of time to fight one's friends. There was even more time to find it in you to mend things, patch up the wounds you created together. Even when friends started to lose the light in their optics, when the streets started to fill with the husks of neighbours, when tomorrow was more a wish than a promise, even then, Cybertronians were often found doing anything but cherishing the moment. 

Smokescreen was no different. Sure, he was impatient and young by comparison, but even to him, everything seemed to be able to wait, 'fore there will be a later. Hence why he had no reservations about going to Cybertron to rebuild. Hence why he could look upon his human lover with a smile as bright as the full moon on a clear night, while saying his goodbyes. "I'll see you soon," he had said while swaggering backwards into the space bridge. You had believed him as much as you had loved him back then.  

"Hey Ratchet, any messages for me?" You asked as you always did when visiting the medic at the old base. Ratchet looked down at you with those same sorry optics. He didn't need to say anything, but he always gave you the courtesy of an answer. 

"I'm sorry, there has been no communication for you," he spoke evenly, trying to keep the pity out of his voice. It was always like that. At first you stopped by every few days, then weekly, monthly, every few months… at some point you forgot to go altogether. You moved for work, so it was suddenly a whole journey to come visit. You got fired from that job, then you got a new job. You fell in love, got your heart broken, broke a limb, healed both and what else? It was just life - life without sentient alien robots, explosions and secret government missions. 

It almost seemed like it had all been a dream. You had almost forgotten about all the adventures of your youth, were it not for that scar on your arm you got from a brief brush with Soundwave at the satellite array. That was just the start, but somehow you made it through several threats to the planet fairly unscathed. That scar on your arm was the only big reminder you had of those days aside from the pictures stuffed in a box in your garage, somewhere on a shelf that was too high for you to reach without a chair to stand on. 

You were about to drive back from work to that garage when you caught sight of a familiar car in the parking lot. The colours were not as you remembered them, but it was strange to see a sports car like this at an office like yours. You stared at the vehicle for a long time and then sighed, before opening the driver's door to your car. However, as soon as you opened the door, the sports car you had been staring at earlier flashed its lights and started honking. You squinted your eyes and closed the door again. 

You locked your car and walked over to the other car that was making a ruckus. As soon as you approached, it quieted down and the driver’s door opened on its own. Against your best judgement, you got in. When you sat down, the seat belt wrapped itself around you and the engine revved to life. “Missed me?” A familiar voice came from the radio as the car drove out of the parking lot to God-knows-where. However, hearing that voice, you felt no fear, no worries, just a deep-seated resentment that had been dormant for many years. 

“Smokescreen,”  you greeted your ride with a tight voice. Said Autobot made a joke about how you simply could not forget him. It only angered you more. You had forgotten, mostly, until now. After that greeting, the air chilled down and not a word was exchanged, until Smokescreen pulled up at the side of an abandoned road. There used to be a factory at the end of it, but since the building had been decommissioned, no one used the road anymore; it was leading to virtually nowhere nowadays. 

The seat belt unfastened and you got out. When your shoes hit the dusty ground, the vehicle transformed into a shape that you used to know. You marvelled at his size as if it was the first time you witnessed his transformation. Cybertronians did not age, but that young face you used to know seemed more mature anyway. There was something about his gaze that got more intense, more serious. There was a slouch in his posture that was the telltale weight of responsibilities befitting an adult. 

Smokescreen whispered your name after a while of quiet staring. “Why are you here?” You inquired as a response. Hurt was evident on his face, but you thought it was a valid question. For over a decade, there was radio silence. Why would he be here if not for another danger looming over your planet? 

Smokescreen let out a scoff. “To see you of course!” He beamed in spite of everything. It was your turn to scoff as you crossed your arms. Your ex looked you over and then, very intelligently, said: “You’ve become bigger! That’s really cool! I forgot humans could do that… Want to go to the drive-in theatre today?” 

You sighed and turned to walk back to your car. It was gonna be a long walk, but you were stubborn and too prideful to tell him to drive you back. “There are no drive-in theatres in this area..” 

You barely got a few steps away when Smokescreen yelled from behind you. “I should have left you a message! I’m sorry!” You kept walking, tears prickling in your eyes. “I forgot!” He added as if it was a valid excuse. 

“Well, I forgot who you are!” You yelled over your shoulder, speeding up your walking. You heard your ex transform behind you and like a bad movie, he started driving next to you. All that was missing was pouring rain, but the sky was so clear, you could see the many constellations gradually making themselves known. 

He was driving with the door closest to you open, trying to get you to get in. “Come on! It has not been that long! I admit I have changed a little, but I’m still me, your Smokey…” You tried to block his voice out, stubbornly trudging on down the abandoned road. “I came back, because I started talking about you so much, Arcee practically shoved me into the space bridge to shut me up. It’s been like my processors always circle back to you.” He swerved and came to a halt right in front of you, forcing you to stop walking. “I told you I would see you soon…” 

You took a deep breath, ensuring that whatever you said next would be spoken in a normal, even tone. Smokescreen reverted back to bot mode, looking at you with pleading optics that could once pull your heartstrings. However, those times were long behind you. “Smokescreen,” you started like you were lecturing a child, “it has been like what? A decade and some? That may not be a long time for you, but I am human. A decade right now is about a third of my life. You made me wait a third of my life. Does that sink in with you?” 

Smokescreen seemed to shrink, pinned under your intense gaze. “I’m sorry,” he muttered eventually. His servos clenched and unclenched. You could see his processors working overtime, just to formulate a response. “I guess you’re right. Cybertron has become quite lively. I proved myself a leader. I made a lot of new friends… Maybe it is a long time…” For someone with a seemingly endless supply of RAM, he was awfully slowly putting the events of the past decade in perspective. His voice trailed off after every sentence. Eventually he just whispered one last thing. “A third…” 

You pitied him. You had enough time to mend the heart he broke many years ago. To him, however, he came back like he said, just to find what he left behind to no longer exist. Without a word he transformed into his alt mode. “I’ll take you back,” he stated. You did not resist this time and got in. 

The drive back was quiet. You did not speak. He did not speak. Only white noise filled the spaces between one heavy spark and only a slightly lighter heart. He drove you back to the parking lot where you had your car. You were about to get out when you heard his voice one last time. “For what it is worth, let me just say: I love you. You’re the best thing I ever had.” 

In spite of him being a stranger from the past, your heart ached. “Your life is long. You’ll love again. Don’t worry.” You patted the steering wheel and then got out. You did not look back and by the time you sat in your car, your car was the only one in the parking lot with the lights on.

[grantimatter]

More spiders, squids and sea squirts.

I thought there would be more submissions tbh. You guys are submitting some VERY MID aquatic inverts. FIND WEIRDER, MORE FUCKED UP ONES!!! (The terrestrial ones are awesome btw. Really fun parasites! But I’ll need more to make a full bracket!!)

Or maybe because I’m going into marine biology, the deep sea weirdos have become normal to me. Idk. Anyway, go submit your fucked up inverts!!

LINK HERE (it’s to the same link in the pinned post)

[the-one-0]

I want to introduce you all to my Arcana OC – Indigo. An elegant, thin and fragile elf. We love this, huh?

It took me about two months to design the character from scratch, create an accurate design for them and draw it all. And I'm happy with what I got in the end (but I still hate drawing hair).

Some facts about Indigo:

– For their race, they possessed some magical potential, but not too powerful, which is why they spent a lot of time and effort studying and practicing magic.

– Indigo is stronger in theory than in practice, but they are working on it.

– They have some complexes about appearance, namely, they are not satisfied with the structure of the eyelids (asian lol).

– Loves makeup, but they don't know how to apply it, which makes them even more upset about the structure of their own eyelids.

– They do not have the best eyesight (Indigo is quite short-sighted), but acute hearing never fails.

– The only weapon they have is a combat fan. They don't know how to handle other weapons besides this one.

– Ectomorph.

– They love fans of different designs and types, but they don't often part with their own, which is especially valuable to them. No one is allowed to touch this object.

– Their childhood years were spent in a small mountain village in the East. Indigo moved to Vesuvia with ambitions and desires to improve their live. They did not have the heart to stay in remote places for a long time. Moving was not easy for them, just like the process of obtaining high-level skills and status. And today, Indigo value their place and work very much.

– Not very long ago, they got to the position of court magician.

– Indigo dreams of having a pet, but they are not sure that they can provide it with a better life, so they postpone this moment over and over again.

– No matter how much they like Vesuvia, they are periodically overcome by longing for their native place, where they have not returned for many years and are not even completely sure if that village still exists.

– They are wary of strangers and try to keep communication with strangers to a minimum, but on their own initiative, Indigo never reject those who want to communicate with them. But they never start a dialogue first.

– They are prone to perfectionism and are often very critical of themselves and everything they say or do.

– Indigo cries when, while reading a book, they comes across a sad moment where someone feels bad/hurt. Often their impressionability makes them cry at the sight of dead birds and animals. This can spread to plants.

– Very harmless. They defend themselves only if the attitude towards them becomes frankly disgusting. Most often, they ignore small "red flags", even if they notice them, because Indigo always believe that everyone is wrong.

– Indigo is very passionate about history, art, philosophy and literature. They admire those who can draw, sing or write poetry, as they consider these to be the highest talents.

– They also admire those who are stronger than them in anything.

– Their anger manifests itself in the fact that they isolate themselves from everyone or specifically from the one who annoys them, so as not to say unpleasant things. It is difficult to determine that Indigo are annoyed by something. They won't show it.

– Indigo loves sweets so much. Any kind. Just give them more and they will be at your feet.

– They don't like tea. And coffee too.

– They get drunk quickly. Therefore, Indigo prefer not to get involved with alcohol.

[camp-mithril-lake]

In a society built around the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy that is obsessively revised and reinterpreted, the one thing that never changes—the one thing that must never change—is the system itself. Every revision, every reinterpretation takes place within a rigid framework of social stratification. Nothing must threaten the Functionists’ core philosophy: utility as an organizing principle. If you could step outside the system you would recognize it for what it is: a prison, worse than that, it is a prison full of willing prisoners. And not only are you a prisoner within the system, you are a prisoner within your own body. Whether you were born or made, forged or constructed cold, you are trapped inside your alt mode. The Functionists built the lock and the Senate holds the key, but most of us are unaware we’re locked in. Make no mistake: your life is mapped out in front of you, as clear as the grooves in your transformation cog. You can no more choose to change jobs than Cybertron can choose to stop orbiting the sun. You can no more acquire a skill unrelated to your vocation than the sky can acquire a conscience. In denying you the ability to reject your alt mode—in preventing you from pursuing a path of your own choosing—both the Senate and the Council say they are acting in your best interests. They have a responsibility, they say, to ensure that you make best use of your god-given form. If you turn into a drill, it is because Primus knows that Cybertron needs drills. To deviate from your function is to risk invoking the wrath of God and bringing the world to its knees. In truth, it is about control. A multi-skilled population is an empowered population. And if you reject your alt mode, what next? Would you reject your class? Would you reject your government?   The Functionists don’t rely solely on theology when rebutting arguments for change. Working outside of your alt mode would be confusing, they say. Imagine being treated by a medic with tank treads; you would question their competence. And they extend the same question to miners. “Would you feel comfortable working alongside a microscope?” And to the military: “Would you put your life in the hands of a soldier who turns into a data slug?” And it is true. People would be unnerved—at first. But the Functionists—enabled by the Senate—have created the conditions that have given rise to this culture of suspicion; and they have done so deliberately, because it reinforces the status quo. Moreover, it fosters division, and division is another means by which they can control the population. The more walls you can put up between people, the easier it is to contain them, and the stronger the structural integrity of the system. And that is why when you see a stranger you don’t think, “What are they like?” You think, “What are they for?” You don’t think, “What are their hopes, dreams, aspirations?” You think, “What do they do?” And then you think, “Where are they positioned in relation to me? Do they sit above, alongside, or below? Are they better than me, or I them?” Even if you believe in the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy, ask yourself this: who decides on that order? And then: why should there be an order? And that is the question that the Senate and the Functionists fear the most, because they know that their world would collapse if people arrived at the answer. Why should there be an order? I’ll tell you: there shouldn’t be. Be happy in your work, they say, for it enriches you. Be grateful for your alt mode, for it defines you. Be thankful for the system—it protects you. Be mindful of your betters—they think for you. I say enough. Reject your work. Reject your alt mode. Resist the system. And your “betters”? You have none. We are all equal. And we have a right to decide how to live our lives.

Megatron of Tarn, Towards Peace

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi how are you? I love your writings❤️ Can I get a romantic matchup with LOTR, HOBBIT, Harry Potter, Marvel? I am 25. She/Her. I can match with a man or woman. I have short dark brown curly hair and hazel eyes. I have white skin, my height is around 1.65 and I'm curvy.

I'm generally introverted and cold-blooded. I'm stubborn. I'm generally pretty patient, but when I run out of patience I can get very grumpy. I'm a bit of a pessimist. I don't talk much outside unless necessary and prefer to observe. I am a good listener. To outsiders, I seem strict, distant and sometimes a little scary, but to those around me, I am very talkative, friendly, affectionate and fun. I'm also a good secret keeper, tell me anything and I'll take it to my grave. I am a faithful and loyal person. I'm a perfectionist. I always like to have everything orderly and under control, but sometimes it can be very challenging. I'm independent, I try not to get help for anything and I don't like to fit into certain stereotypes. I am always respectful and even interested in opposing views. I have a hard time voicing my opinions on anything, which can sometimes make me seem rude or disrespectful, but I really don't mean any harm. I'm a nerdy girl and I'm okay with that.✨️

I live in my own world. I love drawing, watching TV series and movies, and listening to music. I also love writing. I love learning new things about any subject. I love art, literature, philosophy, history and mythology. My favorite colors are black and green. I can listen to any genre of songs I like depending on my mood. But some of my Favorites are Diary of Dreams, The Gazette, The Neighbourhood, Chase Atlantic, One Republic, Marina and The Diamonds, Paris Paloma, Lana Del Rey, Billie Eilish, Hozier, Melanie Martinez, Mitski, AC/DC and Iron Maiden. My favorite TV series is Hannibal. I love thrillers, true crime, detective and mystery, fantasy and sci-fi. I think these are the things that come to my mind right now... thank you! I hope you have a good day❤️

Hi! I am so sorry that I got to this so late! I feel terrible! <3

But, I hope you like your matchups!

{Trying a different layout}

Romantic Matchup; LOTR, The Hobbit, Harry Potter, and Marvel

~~~

Lord Of The Rings;

Aragorn -

You met Aragorn at the very beginning, and despite being a lady, you were personally invited by Lord Elrond himself to join the meeting to see who would take the ring to Mordor.

You didn't really talk much, or at all, but you observed, being a good listener; though, as one by one spoke up, debating, your attention went straight to the mysterious, tall, dark, and handsome stranger whose voice you really liked - he was handsome, as said, and he was bringing up some good points.

Hands clasped together in your lap, you watched as people began to argue, and you were just a smidge annoyed.

Well, who knew you were going to become part of the Fellowship Of The Ring?

It was difficult at the beginning of the journey. Gimli and Boromir were pretty adamant that the journey was no place for a lady - far too dangerous, they said!

But Aragorn, you had learned his name, stood up for you, bringing up the fact that Lord Elrond himself asked you to join, that they should all trust his judgment.

Well, you showed them, on more than one occasion, that you were a wise and strong person.

Now, throughout the journey, you had slowly, slowly gotten used to the people around you. The Hobbits were easy to befriend, honestly.

But, at some point, you had grown comfortable in their presence, enough that you had grown to become more talkative and friendly.

Though, it was different with Aragorn. You didn't know if it was just you, but you thought that maybe there was something different in the way he spoke to you than he did with the others. Maybe it was just you...

Maybe...

Well, it turns out that Aragorn was quite taken with you, having caught his eyes the moment you joined the meeting in Rivendell; dressed beautifully, presence respectful, and eyes shimmering with a certain intelligence and strength that captured his interest almost instantly.

And his interest had only grown the more he got to meet you, get to know, and understand you; not only were you intelligent, respectful, strong, and understanding, but you were also loyal and independent - something Aragorn admired greatly.

As the journey continues, minus the orcs and whatever troubles you all run into, you and Aragorn's bond begins to grow the more you spend together.

From late nights of keeping watch sharing your favorite stories and books to recalling your favorite topics in history; there are even nights when you talk the night away about everything your heart desires, until you fall asleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Aragorn didn't have the heart to wake you...

Despite you being an incredibly good fighter and defender, Aragorn always makes sure that you are alright after an attack from orcs or something. You do the same, your eyes at the end of a fight would search for each other, small faint smiles of relief on your faces.

In the end, Aragorn gives you the best room while you and the rest of the Fellowship stay in his kingdom after he is crowned king. Your room is one of the biggest, and close to his room, in case you need anything.

He makes sure that you have everything that you could possibly need. Someone to wait on you in case you need something, need help changing, a bath to be drawn, a snack, anything. And do not worry, you are not a burden. Aragorn would do anything for you.

Another thing; Aragorn gifts you lavish clothing, in green and black, that you are comfortable in. The sight of the new article always brings a smile to your face and a rush of blood to your cheeks. And, of course, he always compliments you when he sees you.

Whilst you stay, Aragorn often finds you in the library, reading, drawing, or just admiring the view outside - he often joins you, to talk, laugh, or just spend time in your amazing company.

Aragorn finally confesses his feelings and admiration for you after you.

"You have been my strength through every shadow and trial - my heart has long been yours, though I have been too much a fool to say it."

Well, let's just say, that you didn't end up leaving after that.

You and Aragorn work seamlessly together, both of you valuing independence and the quiet strength that comes with keeping order. Patience is a shared virtue, though he is perhaps more steadfast than yours.

Your friendly and affectionate nature balances his quiet reserve, while your stubborn loyalty earns his deepest respect.

Even in moments when your pessimism clouds your thoughts, he admires your unwavering commitment to those you care for, finding strength in the fire that drives you.

~~~

The Hobbit;

Thorin Oakenshield -

You had run into the Dwarves and one Hobbit when they were getting attacked by the spiders in Mirkwood.

You were heading to Mirkwood - Thorin thought that was suspicious - but instead of just letting them suffer through spiders, you helped them cut out of webs and stab spiders to death; you were truly skilled fighter, it was no wonder most of the Company wanted to keep you.

Though you were a bit hesitant and distant - you met up with them, fighting off orcs, jumping in an empty barrel, and holding onto Bilbo so he wouldn't drown.

As you were all racing down the raging river, you didn't know if you were having fun or not. More like worrying over the whole group and making sure after every small waterfall that you counted each Dwarf.

One, two, three, ah, okay, all accounted for, all alive...

Thorin, even though you helped him and his family/friends out of danger, he didn't really know what to think of you. His blue eyes would watch you, observing you, as you also observed your surrounding, whilst also listening to the Dwarves about their stories and adventures.

He didn't know what to think of you at the very moment, but he thanked you for your help, to himself.

But you had been able to bond with most of the other Dwarves, like Fili and Kili, which consisted of laughter, shared stories, and affectionate hugs.

And when Kili was in pain, though you worried and your mind thought only of the worst, you held his hand.

These actions made the King Under The Mountain reconsider you for a moment. Maybe there was something different about you.

That night, as you curled close to the fire that night before he and the rest of the Company - minus a few - left for Erebor, Thorin found a spare blanket and placed it upon your sleeping form.

And only after the defeat of Smaug, and after the war - and everyone surviving - did he finally realize that maybe the 'something different' about you was actually because you might've been his One; he just was too stubborn to truly see it.

This new realization hit him hard, and at first, the King was scared. He had wished that he had gotten to know you more, had spoken to you more.

Well, you were here now, partying with the rest - of men, dwarves, elves, and Hobbits alike. Maybe, this was his chance to push aside his stubbornness and brooding and speak to you.

He made his move, surprising you by asking you to join him for a drink, where he gave you a goblet of red wine. And for the next hour or so, you spoke among yourselves, on the sidelines of the raging party. *Disco music.*

There, you and Thorin spoke about the music, your favorite instruments, books your loved to read, and more. All the while, you didn't seem to notice the way Thorin's eyes softened as you rambled slightly.

At the end of the first night of many more nights of partying and celebrating the return of their home, Thorin finally spoke up.

"You have fought beside me with a courage that humbles even a king - I would wish it that you stay here in Erebor a while longer, so I may properly show my gratitude."

It is while you are staying longer in Erebor that he finally reveals to you that you are his One.

To keep a long story short, all while courting, you and Thorin would sit by the fire and read quietly together, take walks through Erebor's halls, write sweet letters to each other, and Thorin would braid a piece of your hair, clasping it with his homemade, one-of-a-kind bead.

You and Thorin share a bond forged in mutual respect and quiet understanding.

He admires your love for reading and thirst for knowledge, seeing it as a strength that complements his vision for Erebor.

Even your perfectionist tendencies, though sometimes a point of contention, earn his respect - he sees in you someone who strives for greatness, much like himself.

Your unwavering support has become a pillar he relies on.

~~~

Harry Potter;

Remus Lupin -

You and Remus first met at Hogwarts as students, though your friendship didn’t blossom immediately.

You were a quiet, observant presence, often keeping to yourself. He was aware of you from a distance, admiring your calm, controlled demeanor, which differed from his more lighthearted friends.

It was a nice different.

Although you were distant from new and strange people, your shared classes often brought you together.

You both preferred studying in quiet corners of the library, where Remus noticed how you worked meticulously, seeing how much you loved to learn not only from books but also from lessons.

Finally, after you had both gotten use to each other, you began studying together in the library.

You even started correcting his notes.

When Sirius and James found out about that, they teased him.

Over time, you became close enough for him to see the softer, affectionate side you reserved for those you trusted.

You’d often listen patiently as he confided in you, especially during stressful times.

Full moon times. It had taken him a year and a half to tell you he was a werewolf, and he was incredibly nervous that you would tell everyone or just not be his friend anymore.

He was scared that you would look at him in disgust.

He would miss your hugs as hellos in the mornings, he would miss the peaceful conversations regarding your interests.

He would miss the way your face would light up at the mention of your favorite muggle movies or show, or how you would ramble beautifully on and on about myths and philosophy. He wouldn't dare stop you.

He loved the sound of your voice.

He was a bit of a pessimist himself.

Surprisingly, and to his shock, he found great comfort in your reaction. When he finally gathered the courage to tell you his secret, his heart raced, waiting for the look of disgust he feared you’d give him.

But instead, you remained calm, simply listening, your eyes thoughtful yet soft. You placed a hand on his, a simple gesture that spoke volumes, steadying him as you always had in the quiet way that had drawn him to you from the start.

“You’re still Remus." You had told him. “The rest doesn’t change who you are.”

Years after graduation, you both found yourselves back at Hogwarts, now as professors.

Remus was pleasantly surprised to see you again, finding it easy to pick up where you two had left off.

Your no-nonsense attitude and perfectionism made you a strict professor, yet students respected you for your dedication and fairness. And also quite enjoyed that you would give them little treats and snacks after long quizzes or tests.

Remus often visited your office to chat after classes. You’d sometimes scold him for his relaxed teaching style, though he found it endearing.

Despite your -sometimes - grumpy demeanor, you cared deeply, which he always noticed in the way you’d subtly check on his health and workload.

Especially when the full moons were around the bend.

Remus would find chocolate on his desk in DADA.

And you'd find books on your favorite topics on yours.

After long days of teaching, you and Remus would often sit by the fire in his quarters or yours, sharing tea or hot chocolate. The two of you would talk about myths, Muggle literature, and your favorite Muggle music, losing track of time until the early hours of the morning.

It reminded you of how you and Remus would sit in the Common Room studying until the wee hours of the morning.

He loved the way you spoke passionately about the things that you were interested in, and he’d always encouraged you to keep talking, no matter how tired he was.

You’d both spend hours in the library or his office, quietly reading together. He’d occasionally glance up from his book to watch you, marveling at how beautiful you looked when lost in thought. When you found an interesting passage, you’d excitedly share it with him, and he’d always listen intently.

Adding onto the topic of full moons; on the nights leading up to the full moon, you’d make sure he had everything he needed. You’d sit with him if he was feeling anxious. After the full moon, you’d bring him breakfast and sit with him while he rested, healing, reading aloud from his favorite books, or telling him stories to help him relax.

On particularly difficult days, you’d end up falling asleep together on the couch in either of your quarters, surrounded by books and papers for grading. He’d wake up first, brushing a strand of hair from your face, marveling at how peaceful you looked.

Those quiet moments reminded him just how much he loved you and how lucky he felt to have you by his side.

You and Remus are great together because you balance each other out perfectly - his calm, steady nature complements your quiet strength, while your loyalty and understanding provide him with the comfort and support he needs.

Together, you share a deep, unspoken bond, rooted in mutual respect, affection, and a quiet love that grows stronger with each and every passing day.

~~~

Marvel;

Natasha Romanoff -

As Avengers, you and Natasha work seamlessly together. Ever since the beginning, when she wasn't on solo missions or with Clint, you were with her.

Your cold-blooded efficiency in battle complements her own calculated and lethal style.

You’re both perfectionists who thrive on order and control, often planning out every detail of a mission to ensure success. While you can be distant or strict with new recruits, Natasha sees through your tough exterior and knows that beneath it lies a fiercely loyal and caring partner.

You're not one to speak much during operations, preferring to observe and stay silent, but Natasha appreciates the way you always anticipate the next move.

You’re skilled in hand-to-hand combat, just as skilled with weapons.

You’re not just observant on the battlefield but a force to be reckoned with. You’ve honed your combat skills, and even Natasha, with all her experience, finds herself impressed.

She often asks to spar with you, in which it often ends in a tie or the both of you winning the same amount of times.

Away from the chaos of the battlefield, you might not be as expressive or outgoing as some of the other Avengers, in the beginning. It takes you a bit to open up, but when you do, you have become friends with all of them.

You are talkative, laughing along, having fun with them; along with being affectionate, joking punches to the arm, or hugs goodbye.

However, when not spending time with the team, a quiet night spent watching movies or reading is how you like to spend your nights. Unless you are dragged to one of Tony's parties.

Natasha being similar to you, needs time to really get to know you, see what makes you tic, before she can truly let herself be vulnerable around you. And you have proven to her that you were worthy enough, and trustful enough for her to break out of her own shell.

She finds herself finding you around the tower, joining you in the kitchen to grab a snack, or even joining in when you put on your favorite show; Hannibal.

This friendly bonding becomes more and more often, almost weekly you and Natasha find yourselves spending more time together, even time with just the two of you.

The more you spent together, the more the bond between the two of you began to bloom into something more, something beautiful.

"You know... I think I trust you more than anyone else." She would speak up randomly as you both sat against the headboard of your bed, watching your favorite movie.

"Even Stark?" You would ask.

"Yeah, even him." She would reply, her smile matching yours.

Before you knew it, everything would shift.

From small, gentle brushes of the fingers as either pass by or a rare, soft smile just for each other... It was obvious that there was something happening between you two.

On lazy days - not really, the both of you end up in the gym sparring most lazy days - but if you aren't in the gym; pushing for each other to be better, you and Nat would sit in quieter corners of the tower, away from the hustle of the others.

She'd sit beside you as you read, her hand resting on your leg or her head resting on your shoulder. She would sit and listen to you read, or when you weren't reading aloud, she would rest her eyes, maybe even nap; the soft sound of Paris Paloma and Lana del Rey in the background

As a couple, Natasha respects your boundaries and your need for space, but when she needs you, you’re always there— - strong and reliable. In return, she supports you, offering her own quiet form of affection.

You’re never truly alone.

You balance each other, and neither you nor Nat would have it any other way.

[manatee-rp-memes]

Vanessa Carlton Song Lyric Starters

~Feel free to tweak as needed~

"I need you."

"I miss you."

"It's always times like these when I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me."

"It's nice not to be so alone."

"He's my first mistake."

"Maybe you were all faster than me."

"We gave each other up so easily."

"What I gave is yours to keep."

"I'm looking for wisdom in all the wrong places."

"I'm stubborn and wrong, but at least I know it."

"Thank you for believing in me now, 'cause I do need it."

"Who's to say that we're not good enough?"

"Sometimes family are the ones you'd choose."

"You say we're too young, but maybe you're too old to remember."

"I shine so bright when you're around."

“There's nothing you can do."

"The doctor says now it won't be long."

"I'd give my bones for you to get a few more years."

"I can't keep this all to myself."

"There's some words I never told you."

"There's a part of me no one will ever know."

"You're a genuine wannabe."

"As you walked into my life you showed what needed to be shown."

"I will never see the sky the same way."

"You taught me I could change whatever came within these shallow days."

"I didn't know that I could be so blind to all that is so real."

"Don't pretend you feel what I feel."

"You live illusion and I'm real."

"I know you don't really hear what I say."

"Take my hand."

"Don't you see your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand?"

"I know he's no stranger, for I feel I've held him for all of time."

"I wish I was the treasure that you were looking for."

"Things are going crazy and I'm not sure who to blame."

"Everything is changing."

"I'm trying to find a place where I can feel like I belong."

"The heart of a woman will never be found in the arms of a man."

"If only he was mine."

"It's hard to know what's good for you."

"I like your company."

"You've got a fresh philosophy."

"I don't want to have expectations, 'cause you could be the end of me."

"I don't want to be a bride."

"We will live like kings under lavender skies."

"Your silence cuts the deepest."

"I know I've made a mess of things, and I'm sorry for all that."

"I got your message, glad you're doing well."

"As usual, I'm in a tricky predicament."

"Tell me, will you miss me when I'm gone?"

"The wicked in me is surely the wicked in you."

"I am free to redefine me."

"Do you know who your enemy is?"

"Love is an art."

"Will you tell me your story? I just want to listen."

"I know you don't really mean it."

"I am useless here, and it feels so unfair."

[grantimatter]

(via EPISODE #213: THE BALLAD OF MOJO NIXON)

This was a memorial as fascinating as it was sweet.

[workingforitallthetime]

I would be super interested in hearing more of your thoughts on the bedard athletic article... i read it just now and. hmm.

OK we’re back for Part II, the Bedard/Fantilli parenting part! (Part I here.)

I previously squawked about being jarred by the subhead in the Star: “But Connor Bedard’s story was always more about raising a happy and grounded child than a star.” But now that I’ve processed both articles, it’s not necessarily off-base. The Bedards clearly do very much care about raising a happy and grounded child. It’s just that their philosophy about how to accomplish that outcome seems to be focused around making sure Connor has everything that Connor thinks he needs.

There’s presumably a difference between everything that Connor thinks that he needs and everything Connor actually needs, just like there is with any teenager. So what really stands out to me in both of these articles is the many examples of how the Bedard parents seemingly do not ever go against Connor’s decisions around hockey, even when they’ve had (or arguably should have had) legitimate misgivings. Some examples from the Toronto Star article:

Melanie didn’t think Connor should apply for exceptional status, to the point where she was losing sleep over it. Connor “told her how upset he’d be if she blocked his goals,” and she caved. (The quote is from The Athletic but Melanie’s emotions get more attention in the Star.)

This quote from dad about little kid Connor going to open ice: “He’d stay there eight hours at a time,” says Tom. “More, sometimes. He’d come off, eat, go back on. His feet would be literally bleeding. I would go on once in a while, but normally I would just let him do his thing.” Like… maybe it’s time to make your kid take a break if his feet are literally bleeding????

Ah, the Hawaiian vacation, the trip that Connor refused to go on unless he could take his hockey gear and keep practicing. There’s a series of choices there as a parent. Not only are you acceding to your kid’s demands to play hockey in the midst of your one and only family vacation ever, you’re actively facilitating his demands by paying to check his goddamned gear bag and leaving your own relaxing lounge by the pool/on the beach to drive him to the only rink on the island (which I’m fairly confident was not walking distance from any resort they may have been staying at.) Like!!! That is such a series of choices!!! All made in the service of allowing your hockey-obsessed kid to have exactly what he wants, rather than deciding that perhaps it would be good for him and for your whole family to have a tiny little vacation from his life’s obsession!!! (Much of the information in this paragraph is based on the TSN spot, which has the most detail about this trip.)

I think it’s super interesting that the coach of the Pats says he’s tried to dial Connor back (making him take days off, against Connor’s wishes) but apparently his family never has.

This is not the Fantilli family shared decisonmaking model, where all four of them talk about collectively making every decision about what Adam’s path has been. (And also extol the importance of family vacations.) In the Bedard family, Connor is driving the bus and his parents have decided that their role is to support him as he decides how best to follow his dreams.

I was absolutely gobsmacked by this quote:

Melanie moved to Regina to be Connor’s billet the past two seasons, because nobody knew what it would be like for a kid of his calibre, and as Paddock puts it, “His whole preparations are based around perfection, and she’s the only one that knows it.” 

Moving because you don’t want your 15-year-old to live with strangers would be completely understandable. Moving because you are the only person who can possibly live up to your 15-year-old’s standards of perfection and you don’t want him to have to live a life where everything is not exactly perfect for him is FUCKING BANANAS.

Of course, there’s a Fantilli contrast here too. I’m thinking of the interview where Adam said his performance coach therapist helped him “turn rituals into routines.” Learning how to cope when it is not possible to have everything run exactly according to your standards of perfection seems like a fairly important life lesson for your kid to learn if you want him to be happy and grounded. (Most parents start teaching that around the time their two-year-old throws a tantrum because the purple cup is in the dishwasher so they have to drink their apple juice from the green cup.) But maybe it’s less important if your version of “happy” is that your kid gets everything he wants.

It’s interesting that there’s a common thread between the Bedards and Fantillis of some distaste for the minor hockey scene. (“Melanie had already started staying away from the games after experiencing the fierce currents of youth hockey on the moneyed North Shore.”) The Fantillis dealt with that by finding a different path that took their kids out of that system entirely, and the Bedards don’t even seem to have considered that option. Connor wanted exceptional status in the CHL and that’s what Connor got.

And maybe that’s connected to another interesting Bedard/Fantilli contrast. The Fantills, in describing their shared decisionmaking model, always seem to radiate confidence that they’ve made the right decisions, even when those decisions have been hard or haven’t been popular. See, e.g., Julia emphasizing in Adam’s TSN spot that “it was about making the right decision for each son,” or Giuliano evangelizing the prep school route in the Gulo Gulo article, or Adam explaining, “It’s probably about a week-long process for every decision that we make and I don’t think we’ve made a wrong decision so far.” But the Bedards, apparently, have some self-doubt about letting Connor drive the bus:

Bedard’s parents still worry. Melanie worries about school taking a relative back seat — in the room at the Brandt Centre, a chart of Hamlet’s characters is the only real indication it’s a classroom. Tom thinks about the kids of the people he works with, and how they’re growing up.

“Their kids play hockey, but they hunt, they fish, they motorcycle, they snowmobile and they’re good at all of them,” he says. “But they’re not great at any of them. But is that better in the long run? Maybe it is.”

sources: The Athletic, the Toronto Star, TSN, Gulo Gulo,

[valos-venus-doom]

Drawn & Quartered [Chapter 4]

February 10th 2007

Ville sat looking at the alluring brunette in front of him, her eyes sparkled in the light of the candles between them. He was on his first "first date" in eons.

Her name was Caitlyn. A stunning 25 year old Starbucks barista Ville had met when a new location popped up in his neighborhood. He began going first thing in the morning, every morning (because sobriety meant he was up before the birds most days) because the gorgeous girl behind the counter charmed him and made him laugh. And genuinely laugh. Not the polite laughter you do when a stranger makes a bad joke. He learned her schedule and was there every single day she worked until he worked up the courage to ask her out.

To Ville's surprise, he wasn't nervous. Not at all, in fact, it felt like being out to dinner with a longtime friend. He was completely at ease and comfortable around her, which was a big deal for him.

She had big hazel eyes, full lips, and a body he couldn't stop thinking about getting on top of. But more than that, she was extremely smart and captivated him. Caitlyn was going to school for business management and he loved listening to her talk about it. She was unlike any woman he had ever dated and he told anyone who'd listen that she was the one.

And when she laughed? It made Ville's stomach flutter. She had the best laugh he'd ever heard.

"And long story short, this is why taking Philosophy is terrible and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone." Caitlyn concluded her tirade on why Philosophy 101 was the worst class she had ever taken. She had saved it for last and it wad the last credit she needed to graduate.

"When do you graduate again?" Ville asked, sipping his water.

"May." Caitlyn said with a smile before sipping her white wine.

"Nearly there." Ville smiled.

"Yes and oh my God I am so ready to be done. As soon as that Master's degree is in my hands, I'm quitting Starbucks with two middle fingers up in the air."

Ville laughed, "But then where am I going to get coffee from every morning?"

"I said I was quitting, not burning down the joint." She teased.

"But your coffee is better than anyone elses."

"You get your coffee black. Anyone can do that." She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Mm, not sure that's true. You must do something special to it." Ville smirked.

"How about making it at home?" Caitlyn stuck her tongue out at him.

"You gonna come over every morning and make it for me?" Ville stared her down suggestively.

"Maybe..." Caitlyn eyed him seductively over the rim of her wine glass.

An hour later, Ville had Caitlyn on her back on his couch. They couldn't hold back long enough to make it upstairs to his bed.

"Oh god, Cait, fuck yes." Ville groaned before attacking her lips again, moaning into the kiss passionately.

Caitlyn pushed him off her til he was seated on the couch, she straddled his hips and held his shoulders as she rode him, nails slightly digging into his flesh. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her tits that Ville attacked lustfully, bringing Caitlyn to orgasm.

"God yes, I love your dick." Caitlyn groaned through gritted teeth, her body a vice around his cock as she came.

Ville realized she was dirty talker and he fucking loved it. He exploded immediately with an orgasm so intense he couldn't even breathe, let alone make noise. His mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut, hips spasming. Thank God Caitlyn already came because he literally couldn't stop himself.

When he reopened his eyes as the orgasm subsided, Caitlyn was gazing at him with a small smirk. Ville was convinced she was a goddess. She had to have been, she was not of this realm. It was in that moment he was sure of two things:

1. He was madly in love.

2. Caitlyn was The One.

Christmas Day, 2011. 10am.

Ville awoke with a start. He stared into the cold grey morning light creeping into his bedroom. It was a dream. About her. Again.

Ville held Caitlyn's pillow tightly in his arms, inhaling its scent; Redken shampoo, Victoria Secret perfume, and her natural smell. Eau de Caitlyn.

Too numb to cry, the last 2 days since getting home had been a nightmare of his own creation.

He flip-flopped between grief and rage. Both at himself and at Cait.

He had written out so many texts, but never sent them. He didn't know how to say "Fuck you, come home." eloquently.

Suddenly a text came through and his heart jumped. He grabbed his phone so quickly he lost grip and it flew across the floor and he rolled out of bed after it, looking at the text on his knees on the floor, blanket wrapped around his waist.

He knew in his heart it was Caitlyn.

But it wasn't. It was his mother wishing him a Merry Christmas and asking when he and Caitlyn would be over to spend the day with them as per tradition.

Ville felt like he was going to be sick. It was Christmas. He'd forgotten completely. But he was so far from the spirit he may as well have been Ebenezer Scrooge.

"Hey, sorry, I've been up sick all night. I must have caught something from the tour. I'll come by another day. Love you." He texted back to his mother, lying.

"Well if you haven't infected her, send Cait. We love and miss you both. Xx" his mother replied.

That text made it so much worse. He knew his family adored Caitlyn, and she them. They all got along so well. It warmed Ville's heart when he'd see Caitlyn in the kitchen helping his mother. Or playing retro games on their 20 year old Super Nintendo with his brother. Or talking business and current events with his dad over coffee.

She was a perfect fit for the Valo family. She was perfect in general. And she was gone.

Ville didn't answer his mother's text. Instead he climbed back into bed. He gripped Cait's pillow tight, inhaling deeply, before rolling over and going back to sleep. Before he drifted off, he relented, he was going to call Caitlyn. White flag flying, he surrendered. He couldn't take another day with her. But first, sleep.

Ville awoke hours later to his phone ringing and it was dark. 'I slept all day?' He immediately thought to himself before looking at the screen to see who was calling, hoping desperately it was Caitlyn, hoping she was feeling the same sense of longing and wanting to surrender, too.

But it wasn't Caitlyn. It was his brother, Jesse.

"Hello?"

"Hey, dude. I've been knocking. It's fucking cold and snowing its ass off out here. Open the door."

"One sec." And Ville hung up. He pulled on pants before scurrying down to his front door. Jesse never just showed up, so this was odd, Ville thought to himself.

Ville opened the door to see his brother standing on the other side in the snow that began falling at some point. "Hey. What's up?"

Jesse walked into the house taking off his snow covered boots. "Well, I heard from Mom that you were sick. So I was coming to check on my big brother. It is Christmas after all."

"How very sweet of you." Ville replied blankly. He loved his brother, but right now he was in no mood for visitors. It was interrupting his miserable self-loathing.

Jesse stared at Ville straightfaced, "You don't look sick to me. So, wanna tell me what's really going on?"

"Nothing." Ville stared back at his brother who was clearly calling him out in his lie... but there was something else Jesse clearly knew, he could see it in his eyes. And Jesse didnt ask where Caitlyn was, as he usually would have.

"What do you know?" Ville asked quietly, not breaking eye contact. He was dreading having to finally tell someone that he and Caitlyn broke up.

"Well one of two things happened," Jesse began. "Either you and Cait broke up, or she's in the mountains cheating on you right now." Jesse's tone was serious.

"But," Jesse continued, "I doubt she'd be this open about cheating on you publicly on social media. I'm no Sherlock Holmes but it seems like you broke up with her and haven't told anyone. Which would explain why you lied to mom and didn't show up for Christmas."

"Cheating on me?" Ville asked blankly staring at his brother. His face suddenly hot, his ears felt like they were on fire, and his stomach sick. It felt as though there was barbed wire in his windpipe.

"Why the fuck else would this be on her Instagram?" Jesse pulled out his phone and showed him a picture of Caitlyn and Matthias kissing on a ski lift.

Jesse knew Ville had no form of social media, so when he was scrolling through Instagram at his parents' house and came across that picture, he was stunned. And he knew Ville was probably none the wiser.

Jesse scrolled through both Caitlyn and Matthias' accounts finding a lot of pictures together with a group of friends, both tagging each other in all the pictures, with heart emojis galore. Some were innocuous enough, sure. But the kissing picture was a glaring red flag. And so was the picture of Caitlyn in a jacuzzi, breasts barely hidden under the bubbling water, and cuddling Matthias.

Ville stared at the photo, his hands began to shake as rage rose within him like boiling flood water. After a moment of staring he averted his eyes and began to chuckle darkly. "That fucking cunt...." he turned away from Jesse. His arms raised and he interlocked his fingers together behind his head and began pacing. Breathing hard.

"So she is cheating?" Jesse asked, extremely confused. Unable to gauge his brother's crazed reaction.

"Nope! She can do whatever it is Her Highness wants! That fucking bitch..." Ville broke into a fit of crazed laughter. "Oh wow."

"Are you high?" Jesse asked blankly. "Or do you need to be?"

"She moved out." Ville sighed, a delirious smile on his face, a millisecond later, Ville threw his fist through the drywall beside him. "Fuck!" He screamed at nothing in particular.

"She broke up with you?" Jesse asked unphased, he'd seen Ville put his fist threw many a wall. It was a Ville Valo signature move.

"Nope. I broke up with her." Ville shook his head, laughing, pacing

"When?"

"Two weeks ago. Didn't take the cunt long to move on, did it?" He sighed as he moved to sit on his couch. "Fucking slut. Of course she's in the the next one."

"What happened?"

"She and her little dumb cunt friends, as you see pictured on the Facebook-a-gram," he gestured dismissively at the phone still in Jesse's hand, "All went on a ski trip two weeks ago and KNOWING full well I was about to leave on tour. But she didnt care. No, no. Instead she ignored my texts, and refused to come home. And then she DID come home, acting like a cunt, calling me an asshole and bitching that I never let her do anything, so I told her I was done." Ville explained viciously.

"Ville..." Jesse knew that probably wasn't the case. He knew Caitlyn pretty well, that didn't sound like her. And knowing his brother, knew some details were being left out.

"Okay. Maybe I was being a passive aggressive asshole, but she made me feel so fucking unimportant. All I wanted was to spend time with her! Was that too much to fucking ask?!" Ville ranted, kicking over the coffee table in front of him.

"Ville.... you broke up with Caitlyn 2 weeks ago?" Jesse asked, connecting the dots.

"Yeah." Ville replied, sitting back against the couch, his heart beating in his ears.

"On the 11th?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah." Ville responded, more irritated this time. "What the fuck are you getting at? What does that fucking matter?"

Jesse stared at his brother. "Did you realize the 11th was on the 6 month anniversary of her father's death?"

Ville froze.

"You know, the 6 month anniversary ofthe death of her last living parent, and right before her first Christmas without him?"

Ville's stomach turned as Jesse spelled it out like he was a Kindergartener.

Jesse continued, moving closer, speaking downward at his brother who was seated on the couch, "And you made her feel like shit for going on a trip, doing the one activity that she and her father held dear? And then broke up with her? What in the entire *fuck* is wrong with you, man? I'm surprised she didn't break up with you herself."

Ville's expression changed from stunned realization to a scowl. He stood up fast, furious at himself but ready to direct it towards his brother, he got nearly in his face "Jesse, fuck off. You weren't even there! You're really gonna side with her? She's fucking my friend, first of all!"

Ville didn't appreciate the feeling of being being judged, especially when it was dawning on him that he was in the wrong. "And sec-second of all," Ville, ready to defend himself, paused and swallowed hard. But it felt like swallowing a razorblade, "Second of all...." he struggled to continue. "W-when you put it like that..." Ville's voice broke, his lip trembled and he dissolved into tears, face in his hands.

Jesse's expression softened as saw his brother break. He wrapped his arms around his big brother and sat them both down on the couch to better hold and console him.

"I was going to propose." Ville sobbed into his brother's shoulder, snot and tears getting on his jacket but Jesse couldn't have cared less. "Midnight. New Years. On stage. I had it all planned with manager at Tavastia--" he choked. "What am I gonna do?" Ville wept, his voice cracking.

Jesse held his older brother, "Ville. Ville, come on. It's going to be okay. Have you even talked to her since all this happened?"

Ville lifted his head and wiped his face on a t-shirt he'd thrown on the couch days ago. "N-no." Ville answered. "I was so fucking angry... I refused to call her. I wanted her to call me. I didn't think I did anything wrong." Ville sniffed. "At the time." He clarified.

"Okay, well that's step number one. Talk. To. Her." he urged him. "Maybe she feels the same--"

Ville shook his head, interrupting him "No. She is clearly with Matthias right now." He looked tearfully at his brother. "She clearly moved on."

"That isn't necessarily true..." Jesse tried to

"She fucking wasted NO time getting on another man's dick, did she?" Ville's emotional pendulum began to swing back to rage from sorrow. "And with Matthias? My fucking friend? That fucking bastard. What a friend, huh?" Ville stood up, pacing again.

"Before you put another hole in the drywall, remember you were the one who broke up with her." Jesse tried to calmly remind him.

Ignoring Jesse, Ville grabbed his shoes. "I fucking gave that bitch everything. I moved heaven and earth for her, and this is what she does? Do I not mean anything? Did WE not mean anything? And with my friend? How fucking dare she." Ville seethed and raged. "I'm getting a drink. Come with me, or don't, I don't give a fuck."

"Oh I'm coming with you, I'm not letting you out into the world unsupervised in this state." Jesse replied, grabbing his boots too.

[xjoonchildx]

hello miss ana!

so idk if you remember me, but i was the anon who sent you that ask about her roommate. the one that told you about her roommate picking her up at the airport?

well… we’re getting married and i’m pregnant with our first baby ☺️🥰

a lot has happened since that night he picked me up! but to keep the story short: the next morning he knocked on my bedroom door and there was a lot of tears (on my part 😂) involved but we essentially just laid everything out on the table. turns out he’d been in love with me for a year and a half but i had just had a nasty breakup at the time he’d started falling for me so he just didn’t do anything about it, and plus he didn’t want to be a rebound. but it all worked out in the end because i started falling in love with him too. also, isn’t it funny that the mutual friend who introduced us to each other 3 and a half years ago told him offhandedly that he was going to ‘love me’ and look where we are now 😂

so… yeah. then you know what happens after that ☺️

i saw the Hug™ anon hashtag too and i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who was rooting for us! but i decided not to respond because things were still new between me and him a few months back so i apologize for that… but now that i’m engaged to him and i just found out i’m pregnant with our first baby (that we both might or might not have let happen), i decided to share this with you all ☺️ he proposed a week before we found out i was pregnant, so please don’t worry about him proposing to me out of obligation! we have been making plans for our future, and we’ve started looking at houses around the school district area because we plan to move out of our shared apartment when our baby is a bit older. we had a brief moment where we wondered if we were moving too fast (and it caused our first big couple fight and more tears on my part 😂), but our families and friends were like, “you guys are stupid” because apparently we were so obvious to everyone but ourselves before we even got together. it was a bit embarrassing tbh… but yeah. this feels right for us. we’ve been living together for more than 3 years now, i know what he’s like inside and out and vice versa.

i wish i could invite you all to our wedding (which will not be for another 3-4 years at least). maybe we will get married when bts come back as a group again after their enlistment, but for now my fiancé and i have agreed to not put me through unnecessary stress because the next few years will be tough on us with the baby and moving out. when we’re truly settled in our new house and our baby is a bit older, we can focus on planning a wedding!

again, thank you so much everyone for the support. i’m just a faceless stranger after all 🥹 you were all so kind 😭

am i ... am i crying? yes. yes, i am.

my GOD the Hug™ anon i cannot put into words how incredibly fucking satisfying this was to read. top to bottom, 5/5 stars, no notes. just the giddiest, happiest ride i've been on in a long time.

let's talk about all the romance tropes you've hit on the pinball board of life, shall we?

roommates to lovers

mutual pining

teary confession

hurt/comfort

happily ever after

and the BABY? swear to god the noise i just made at this starbucks made people look at me. i think it was a scream that mutated into a squeal?

live your absolute best life, the Hug™ anon. you are with the man of your dreams, moving towards your future, ready to be a mom, thinking about a new place, just -- so? many? exciting things?

and even though i can't come to your wedding, please allow me to do what i do and suggest two wedding day scents. one is exorbitant and the other more affordable.

for the regular budget: philosophy fresh cream warm cashmere

for the HOT DAMN budget: dama bianca by xerjoff

 💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕  💕 

[theratboyking]

Softly Into The Night

Chapter Five: The Neon God They Made

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader/Papa Emeritus iii (this will also have eventual Copia/Terzo but that won't be for a while)(This is also a slow burn so it's gonna be a while until we even get here)

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Demons are real, angels exist, and my father is the Prince of Darkness. A dream I can’t seem to wake up from. And two mysterious strangers that seem to have a connection to me. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Summary: “Fine, you chose the hard way.” He clears his throat. Snapping his fingers, the book I had been holding springs to life. The pages fly open as he brings his staff to the grown. His white eye starts to glow. “Now, you will fight me like your life depends on it. I am your enemy in these moments, and I will not stop until you cannot fight anymore.”

Warnings: 18+ (this is going to get be a wild ride folks,) Slow burn, Idiots in love, kinda soulmates? poorly translated Italian (I am sorry to all the Italians out there) fluff, angst, this is a ghost fic so you know religious trauma, some chapters will like get kinda deep in the religious philosophy but maybe not depending on the direction this goes, eventual smut (Chapter will be labeled)

AO3 Link Masterlist

&lt;- Previous Next ->

“We’re going to try something different today.”  Secondo’s voice echoed around the halls. He wasn’t wearing his usual robes. Instead, he was dressed in a white button-up shirt and black slacks. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms. He was carrying his staff in one arm. He was moving with little urgency, but I was a nervous wreck.

This morning started with me receiving a rather large book shoved into my arms by a waiting Secondo and very little explanation of where we were going. In fact, this was the first thing he had said to me since I made it to his office door this morning. I started to fear that he was finally sick of me being late.

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

My arms were starting to hurt from just how heavy this book was. It was well-loved, as if it was out of someone’s personal collection. There wasn’t a title, but it looked old and essential.

“The graveyard.” He said it so nonchalantly.

 I stubble over my steps, almost falling. “I’m sorry, what?” So this was it, wasn’t it? So this was how I was going to die.

“Calm down; I’m not going to kill you,” He cast me a sideways glance. “ Mio fratello avrebbe avuto una crisi, per non parlare del cardinale.” I really need to learn Italian…

 I gulp–my grip on the book only tightens. I didn’t even know that there was a graveyard. What would we even be doing down there? Why were we even going to the cemetery, of all places?  I could feel a pit forming in my stomach, one I hadn’t felt in quite a while. I take an uneasy breath.

The large doors at the front of the Abbey came into view. Each step is met with the pounding of my heart. I couldn’t tell you, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. It felt like I would fall into it if I weren’t careful.  

The blinding afternoon mid-April sun nearly blinded me. The forest surrounding the Abbey seemed to breathe with each passing breeze.  The feeling wasn’t going away; if anything, it was getting worse. We were only getting closer to the forest.

“We will be back before sundown. Others know this and will not come looking for us until then. Do you understand?”

My breathing was picking up, but I nodded my head nonetheless. I have an awful feeling about this. This isn't going to end well. The sound of snapping thighs and crushed leaves echo in my ears. They seemed so far away.

Up a little bit from the path was a clearing. A fence lined the outside; several large boulders lay near the entrance. Graves lined the grounds, some older than others. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a mausoleum in the distance. There was an energy that radiated from this place. We were not alone; whoever else was still here with us was very old.

         He continued despite me falling behind. His assurance from earlier didn’t do much to help with the ever-increasing sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. I picked up my pace so that I wasn’t alone. This place was beyond creepy; it felt like my every move was being watched.

He comes to a sudden stop. I collided right into his back, crashing to the ground.

“Throw something at me.” He was being so nonchalant with every word he said to me. I was left in a state of shock. I honestly really wasn’t sure how to react.

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked at him like he had three heads, slowly bringing myself to my feet. Was he looking for me to do something to have an excuse to kill me? But he said others knew we were out there.

“You head me, throw something at me.”

I slowly bent down to grab a stick before he stopped me, “No, not like that. Use your powers.”

 “I can’t do that.”

“You can, now, do it.”

“I can’t throw something with my mind.”

“We can either do this the easy way, and you stop hiding from yourself, or we do this the hard way, and I won’t be so nice. We are running out of time here principessa, and my patience is running thin.”

I gulp, looking toward one of the smaller rocks in the area. Settling on the smallest I could find, I tried to do as he asked. I could feel myself straining, but it didn’t move. Despite my best efforts, the rock did not move. Finally, I could hear Secondo let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, you chose the hard way.” He clears his throat. Snapping his fingers, the book I had been holding springs to life. The pages fly open as he brings his staff to the grown.  His white eye starts to glow.  “Now, you will fight me like your life depends on it. I am your enemy in these moments, and I will not stop until you cannot fight anymore.”

“Now, let's begin.” The word came from all around. It was almost impossible to tell where he was even despite being right in my sight. The whole atmosphere changed with his words. A chill ran down my spine.

He lifts his staff, bringing it barreling to the ground. A thunderous clap sounded off throughout the graveyard. A ring of white and orange flames sprang to life around us, trapping me in here with him.

“You cannot run this time, Principessa.” It almost didn't sound like him anymore. A low rubble echoes around me, and I try to regain my bearings.

This had to be a test, a joke even. There was no way I could do this. Then, a bright flash of orange and red whizzed past my head.

Ok, maybe he wasn't joking.

I could hear him muttering something in Latin as another ball of fire missed my body. He really wasn't joking; I don’t even think this is the full extent of what he could do. How was I going to get out of this? What do I do? Do I run, or do I hide?

Running wasn't exactly an option; a wall of fire was blocking my way. I couldn't stay here, though; he wasn't letting up–I could take cover for a second so I could at least think of what to do. I make a run for it taking cover behind one of the gravestones. It’s not much, but at least it was something.

“Come on, do we really need to do this?”  It did little to stop Secondo’s attack–continuing to throw the balls of fire toward the stone. Ok, think, what can I do to stop him? The heat of the fire was starting to get to me; sweat was falling down my body from either the adrenaline or just how much I was moving. I really wasn’t sure.  

Fire, that’s it. Ok, focus. Remember what he taught you. I take a deep breath, trying to get something to happen. Focus.

I could feel my hands heating up. A spark was forming in between my hands.  Focus. I can do this. Finally, a tiny ball of flames erupts in my hands.

“Yes!” I threw my hands up in victory. The ball of flames going with it. It flew towards Secondo, missing him completely and landing in the space beside him, leaving little more than a scorch mark on the earth.

Secondo turns his gaze towards my misfire. A dark laugh leaves his lips as I return to take cover behind the gravestone.

“Is that the best you can do?” He practically roared, throwing the ball of fire back towards me. I just barely managed to dodge it. “Do you think the enemy will go soft on you? Attack me!” He raises his staff once more.

“Stop it. I can’t do this.” I lift my head, peeking out to look at him.         “You don’t have a choice. The enemy does not care what you can and can't do. They only want you dead.” He paused for a moment. “Or would you rather they kill those you care about?” He points his staff to the side, his eyes turning to look in the direction, “Vide quid vult”

I could see two figures beginning to appear out of the corner of my eye. Terzo and Copia materialize out of thin air—a look of horror on their faces. Despite whom had summoned them, they still seemed utterly horrified by what was happening. They stood there motionless, only letting out ragged breaths; they looked like they couldn't move even if they wanted to

“Leave them out of this.” I could feel what little control I had left me. I seriously didn’t want to hurt him, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“They will not stop until you are destroyed. They do not care who gets in the way.” His eyes break from me, looking towards one of the large boulders that stood unmoving at the gateway.

“Praecipio tibi, ut tollas de somno tuo” Pointing his staff to the side, the boulder began to lift from the ground. He hurled his staff in the direction of my boys. The boulder follows his command. 

“No!” I don’t know what came over me. It was as if time had stopped; everything was moving so slowly. My legs were moving without me having to think about it. I could feel every beat of my heart racing as I desperately tried to reach them in time. Reaching them just in time for the boulder. I brace myself for impact. All air left my body as the boulder rammed into my outstretched hands. It fell to the ground with little resistance.

 Taking deep breaths, I looked behind me; they weren’t there.  I could feel what little restain I had left me. I could feel my body changing. My gaze snapped to where Secondo stood.

Terzo and Copia stood by his side—the same look of horror present on their faces. Secondo looked utterly pleased with himself. He let out a dark chuckle; a smile was plastered on his face. This was the most alive I had ever seen him before. “Good! Now the real fun begins.”

I screamed–even that seemed to have changed into something monstrous. I couldn't recognize my own voice, but I didn’t care. Charging towards him at an inhuman speed, despite this, he still managed to dodge me. It only served to add fuel to my anger.  I could feel the snakes Lucifer had put on my side burning with every move I made, but it didn't stop me. I couldn’t stop. I had to get to them.

Dodging every shot of fire, he threw at me with an accuracy I never knew I could possess. I make my way to them. I could feel an icy fire on my face, the cold air hitting me with how fast I moved. I was getting closer. The last bit of control I had left me as I let out one more demonic scream.  

This was the only time I have ever seen him show true fear. The cockiness he had completely vanished from his face. His eyes had finally returned to normal. He sprints to where I have collapsed. “Prohibere!” 

 I could barely make out the feeling of him flipping onto my back. My vision faded in and out, and I couldn't hear the word leaving Secondo’s mouth. My head was pounding.  I just wanted to close my eyes. Yeah. I should just close my eyes.

  “Are you ok?” It was distant despite him being right next to me.

The world around me goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck, it felt like there was a boulder on my chest. I couldn't move. Darkness surrounded me–there was a ringing in my ears that didn't seem to want to leave.

         “(y/n)...”

Where am I? Wait… The cemetery, Secondo… Terzo, Copia… The last thing I remember was Secondo screaming something. The rest was a blur in my memory. What exactly happened?

“(y/n)!”

Secondo? Why was he screaming? I think he’s screaming at least; everything feels as if I was floating through the clouds. My head was pounding.

“Are you there, principessa?”

I groan, the light blinding me as I try to open my eyes. “What happened?” I was in desperate need of a glass of water.

“You were beginning to lose control.” He turned his head to the side, looking towards the mausoleum.

The realization dawns on me, and with a small burst of energy, I try to sit up, “Terzo… Copia…”

“They were not real. Only illusions.”

“Oh…” I tried to sit up; my body, however, had other plans. The world around me began to spin; sighing in defeat, I lay back down. Secondo looked down at me. He looked lost in thought, a look of worry etched on his face.

“I may have gone just a little too hard on you.” He paused, looking anywhere else that wasn't me. “I should not have pushed the limits… I’m sorry.” It was so low I was surprised I heard it, and my head snapped toward him. I don't think I ever heard him apologize for anything before.

He looked like a lost kid,  unsure what to do, let alone say. He let out a long sigh looking towards me. He offered me his hand. Helping me sit up before pulling a juice box out of his back pocket.

“Did you have that in there this whole time?” I ask, thankful for it. It took everything in me to not down it in one gulp.

“This isn't my first rodeo…” There was that far-off look 

“What do you mean? I thought I was the first?”

“No. The first antichrist, yes, but not the first hybrid to have stayed in the Abbey.”

“Who was it?” I had to know. This was the most I have ever heard about this. I knew others had a demon parent, but to know there was another here was.

Secondo’s gaze moved back to the mausoleum for a moment before snapping back to me. He didn’t say anything, just looked.

“Come on, you can’t just say that and then not tell me!”

He seemed to hesitate but knew I wouldn’t stop until I got an answer. He sighed, “My wife…”

“YOU WERE MARRIED!?” I bolted upright, ignoring the pain in my head. I didn’t mean for it to come off like I was surprised. I was, however, beyond surprised to hear that Secondo, of all people, was married.

He only nodded, “She was the daughter of a ghoul and a man of this earth…”

“Well, where is she?” I could help but push more.

“She died a few years back…” A far-off look in his eyes.

“Oh…”  There was a moment of silence that passed between us.

“We’re going to try something different today.”  Secondo’s voice echoed around the halls. He wasn’t wearing his usual robes. Instead, he was dressed in a white button-up shirt and black slacks. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms. He was carrying his staff in one arm. He was moving with little urgency, but I was a nervous wreck.

This morning started with me receiving a rather large book shoved into my arms by a waiting Secondo and very little explanation of where we were going. In fact, this was the first thing he had said to me since I made it to his office door this morning. I started to fear that he was finally sick of me being late.

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

My arms were starting to hurt from just how heavy this book was. It was well-loved, as if it was out of someone’s personal collection. There wasn’t a title, but it looked old and essential.

“The graveyard.” He said it so nonchalantly.

 I stubble over my steps, almost falling. “I’m sorry, what?” So this was it, wasn’t it? So this was how I was going to die.

“Calm down; I’m not going to kill you,” He cast me a sideways glance. “ Mio fratello avrebbe avuto una crisi, per non parlare del cardinale.” I really need to learn Italian…

 I gulp–my grip on the book only tightens. I didn’t even know that there was a graveyard. What would we even be doing down there? Why were we even going to the cemetery, of all places?  I could feel a pit forming in my stomach, one I hadn’t felt in quite a while. I take an uneasy breath.

The large doors at the front of the Abbey came into view. Each step is met with the pounding of my heart. I couldn’t tell you, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. It felt like I would fall into it if I weren’t careful.  

The blinding afternoon mid-April sun nearly blinded me. The forest surrounding the Abbey seemed to breathe with each passing breeze.  The feeling wasn’t going away; if anything, it was getting worse. We were only getting closer to the forest.

“We will be back before sundown. Others know this and will not come looking for us until then. Do you understand?”

My breathing was picking up, but I nodded my head nonetheless. I have an awful feeling about this. This isn't going to end well. The sound of snapping thighs and crushed leaves echo in my ears. They seemed so far away.

Up a little bit from the path was a clearing. A fence lined the outside; several large boulders lay near the entrance. Graves lined the grounds, some older than others. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a mausoleum in the distance. There was an energy that radiated from this place. We were not alone; whoever else was still here with us was very old.

         He continued despite me falling behind. His assurance from earlier didn’t do much to help with the ever-increasing sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. I picked up my pace so that I wasn’t alone. This place was beyond creepy; it felt like my every move was being watched.

He comes to a sudden stop. I collided right into his back, crashing to the ground.

“Throw something at me.” He was being so nonchalant with every word he said to me. I was left in a state of shock. I honestly really wasn’t sure how to react.

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked at him like he had three heads, slowly bringing myself to my feet. Was he looking for me to do something to have an excuse to kill me? But he said others knew we were out there.

“You head me, throw something at me.”

I slowly bent down to grab a stick before he stopped me, “No, not like that. Use your powers.”

 “I can’t do that.”

“You can, now, do it.”

“I can’t throw something with my mind.”

“We can either do this the easy way, and you stop hiding from yourself, or we do this the hard way, and I won’t be so nice. We are running out of time here principessa, and my patience is running thin.”

I gulp, looking toward one of the smaller rocks in the area. Settling on the smallest I could find, I tried to do as he asked. I could feel myself straining, but it didn’t move. Despite my best efforts, the rock did not move. Finally, I could hear Secondo let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, you chose the hard way.” He clears his throat. Snapping his fingers, the book I had been holding springs to life. The pages fly open as he brings his staff to the grown.  His white eye starts to glow.  “Now, you will fight me like your life depends on it. I am your enemy in these moments, and I will not stop until you cannot fight anymore.”

“Now, let's begin.” The word came from all around. It was almost impossible to tell where he was even despite being right in my sight. The whole atmosphere changed with his words. A chill ran down my spine.

He lifts his staff, bringing it barreling to the ground. A thunderous clap sounded off throughout the graveyard. A ring of white and orange flames sprang to life around us, trapping me in here with him.

“You cannot run this time, Principessa.” It almost didn't sound like him anymore. A low rubble echoes around me, and I try to regain my bearings.

This had to be a test, a joke even. There was no way I could do this. Then, a bright flash of orange and red whizzed past my head.

Ok, maybe he wasn't joking.

I could hear him muttering something in Latin as another ball of fire missed my body. He really wasn't joking; I don’t even think this is the full extent of what he could do. How was I going to get out of this? What do I do? Do I run, or do I hide?

Running wasn't exactly an option; a wall of fire was blocking my way. I couldn't stay here, though; he wasn't letting up–I could take cover for a second so I could at least think of what to do. I make a run for it taking cover behind one of the gravestones. It’s not much, but at least it was something.

“Come on, do we really need to do this?”  It did little to stop Secondo’s attack–continuing to throw the balls of fire toward the stone. Ok, think, what can I do to stop him? The heat of the fire was starting to get to me; sweat was falling down my body from either the adrenaline or just how much I was moving. I really wasn’t sure.  

Fire, that’s it. Ok, focus. Remember what he taught you. I take a deep breath, trying to get something to happen. Focus.

I could feel my hands heating up. A spark was forming in between my hands.  Focus. I can do this. Finally, a tiny ball of flames erupts in my hands.

“Yes!” I threw my hands up in victory. The ball of flames going with it. It flew towards Secondo, missing him completely and landing in the space beside him, leaving little more than a scorch mark on the earth.

Secondo turns his gaze towards my misfire. A dark laugh leaves his lips as I return to take cover behind the gravestone.

“Is that the best you can do?” He practically roared, throwing the ball of fire back towards me. I just barely managed to dodge it. “Do you think the enemy will go soft on you? Attack me!” He raises his staff once more.

“Stop it. I can’t do this.” I lift my head, peeking out to look at him.         “You don’t have a choice. The enemy does not care what you can and can't do. They only want you dead.” He paused for a moment. “Or would you rather they kill those you care about?” He points his staff to the side, his eyes turning to look in the direction, “Vide quid vult”

I could see two figures beginning to appear out of the corner of my eye. Terzo and Copia materialize out of thin air—a look of horror on their faces. Despite whom had summoned them, they still seemed utterly horrified by what was happening. They stood there motionless, only letting out ragged breaths; they looked like they couldn't move even if they wanted to

“Leave them out of this.” I could feel what little control I had left me. I seriously didn’t want to hurt him, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“They will not stop until you are destroyed. They do not care who gets in the way.” His eyes break from me, looking towards one of the large boulders that stood unmoving at the gateway.

“Praecipio tibi, ut tollas de somno tuo” Pointing his staff to the side, the boulder began to lift from the ground. He hurled his staff in the direction of my boys. The boulder follows his command. 

“No!” I don’t know what came over me. It was as if time had stopped; everything was moving so slowly. My legs were moving without me having to think about it. I could feel every beat of my heart racing as I desperately tried to reach them in time. Reaching them just in time for the boulder. I brace myself for impact. All air left my body as the boulder rammed into my outstretched hands. It fell to the ground with little resistance.

 Taking deep breaths, I looked behind me; they weren’t there.  I could feel what little restain I had left me. I could feel my body changing. My gaze snapped to where Secondo stood.

Terzo and Copia stood by his side—the same look of horror present on their faces. Secondo looked utterly pleased with himself. He let out a dark chuckle; a smile was plastered on his face. This was the most alive I had ever seen him before. “Good! Now the real fun begins.”

I screamed–even that seemed to have changed into something monstrous. I couldn't recognize my own voice, but I didn’t care. Charging towards him at an inhuman speed, despite this, he still managed to dodge me. It only served to add fuel to my anger.  I could feel the snakes Lucifer had put on my side burning with every move I made, but it didn't stop me. I couldn’t stop. I had to get to them.

Dodging every shot of fire, he threw at me with an accuracy I never knew I could possess. I make my way to them. I could feel an icy fire on my face, the cold air hitting me with how fast I moved. I was getting closer. The last bit of control I had left me as I let out one more demonic scream.  

This was the only time I have ever seen him show true fear. The cockiness he had completely vanished from his face. His eyes had finally returned to normal. He sprints to where I have collapsed. “Prohibere!” 

 I could barely make out the feeling of him flipping onto my back. My vision faded in and out, and I couldn't hear the word leaving Secondo’s mouth. My head was pounding.  I just wanted to close my eyes. Yeah. I should just close my eyes.

  “Are you ok?” It was distant despite him being right next to me.

The world around me goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck, it felt like there was a boulder on my chest. I couldn't move. Darkness surrounded me–there was a ringing in my ears that didn't seem to want to leave.

         “(y/n)...”

Where am I? Wait… The cemetery, Secondo… Terzo, Copia… The last thing I remember was Secondo screaming something. The rest was a blur in my memory. What exactly happened?

“(y/n)!”

Secondo? Why was he screaming? I think he’s screaming at least; everything feels as if I was floating through the clouds. My head was pounding.

“Are you there, principessa?”

I groan, the light blinding me as I try to open my eyes. “What happened?” I was in desperate need of a glass of water.

“You were beginning to lose control.” He turned his head to the side, looking towards the mausoleum.

The realization dawns on me, and with a small burst of energy, I try to sit up, “Terzo… Copia…”

“They were not real. Only illusions.”

“Oh…” I tried to sit up; my body, however, had other plans. The world around me began to spin; sighing in defeat, I lay back down. Secondo looked down at me. He looked lost in thought, a look of worry etched on his face.

“I may have gone just a little too hard on you.” He paused, looking anywhere else that wasn't me. “I should not have pushed the limits… I’m sorry.” It was so low I was surprised I heard it, and my head snapped toward him. I don't think I ever heard him apologize for anything before.

He looked like a lost kid,  unsure what to do, let alone say. He let out a long sigh looking towards me. He offered me his hand. Helping me sit up before pulling a juice box out of his back pocket.

“Did you have that in there this whole time?” I ask, thankful for it. It took everything in me to not down it in one gulp.

“This isn't my first rodeo…” There was that far-off look 

“What do you mean? I thought I was the first?”

“No. The first antichrist, yes, but not the first hybrid to have stayed in the Abbey.”

“Who was it?” I had to know. This was the most I have ever heard about this. I knew others had a demon parent, but to know there was another here was.

Secondo’s gaze moved back to the mausoleum for a moment before snapping back to me. He didn’t say anything, just looked.

“Come on, you can’t just say that and then not tell me!”

He seemed to hesitate but knew I wouldn’t stop until I got an answer. He sighed, “My wife…”

“YOU WERE MARRIED!?” I bolted upright, ignoring the pain in my head. I didn’t mean for it to come off like I was surprised. I was, however, beyond surprised to hear that Secondo, of all people, was married.

He only nodded, “She was the daughter of a ghoul and a man of this earth…”

“Well, where is she?” I could help but push more.

“She died a few years back…” A far-off look in his eyes.

“Oh…”  There was a moment of silence that passed between us.

“How?” I should stop talking, but I could not help but want to know. She was like me… That was the most I have ever gotten to help explain what I am, and if I could get more out of him, then maybe I should press a little bit more.

“A rogue angel took her from me…” His voice was unsettlingly even, but there was a fire in his eyes. It was an anger I had never seen before, not in him.

The air around us had changed. It was as if the very spirits themselves were angry. I shudder; I don't know what I should say. The tension in the air was thick.

“She died in my arms.” he finally whispered, staring at the mausoleum once more. If I didn't know any better, it almost looked like he had tears in his eyes. They were glossed over like he was in a different, much simpler time.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

This seemed to snap him out of it. He turns to look at the hand, letting out a rather long sigh. “To be completely honest with you, no. But it gets easier with time, or at least that’s what they tell me. Love is a blessing and a curse. Yet I would do it all again if I could just hold her one more time.”

I stared at him dumbfounded. I don't know what to say. We stayed like this for a while, his words repeating in my mind. Maybe I was in more danger than I thought I was. I didn’t even know angels were able to kill others. Not only that, but what does that mean for me?

I couldn’t tell you how long we sat like that. We were both in our little worlds, our thoughts racing. I glanced over at him to see him staring at the ground. I bring my hand to his shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts. He snaps his head up to look at me. I offer him a smile–one he does not return. His once-tense body relaxes under my touch as he lets out a long, drawn-out breath.

“We should start heading back. I’m sure mio fratello and the cardinal are wondering where we are.”  He finally said, looking towards the sky. The sun was beginning to set– the light was leaving the graveyard, and an ominous glow was beginning to cast itself around the grounds.

The walk back was, for the most part, quiet. Secondo led the way, his staff clicking with every step he took.

“You remind me a lot of her.” He finally broke the silence. “Both of you were stubborn beyond belief; you never know when to quit. It’s something that I admire about you principessa.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Secondo.” I retort, not really sure what to say. He was doing a good job of throwing me for a loop today. “I never exactly took you for one to fall in love. You really give the silence suffering alone kinda type.”

“I never thought I would until I found her. She called me out on many of my behaviors and brought out the best in me. I don't think we would have this conversation right now if it wasn't for her.”

“I figure you would take love for weakness,” I mutter. 

“Love is not a weakness. You are not weak for being in love–it makes you all the more powerful. Don’t forget that piccolo.”

I’ve never heard him talk like this before. He was genuine with his words; nothing was hidden behind them.

“Thank you for today. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

We were approaching the edge of the woods. I could make out two figures waiting for me. One was pacing back and forth, while the other looked like he was sitting down. A soft smile formed on my face as the realization dawned on me. Terzo and Copia were waiting for me. Dispute everything; they were still waiting for me, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

My pace quickens as my thoughts race. What I had been feeling for them for months is now hitting me. I was hopelessly in love with them. I was in love with them and was scared of what that meant. Secondo’s words replay in my head. I trip over my feet, slowing up. My realization was still fresh in my mind.  

As if sensing my hesitation, Secondo let out a soft chuckle–a similar smile made its way to his face, “Go to them.” He nudges my shoulder--throwing his head in their direction. I look towards him, a silent understanding passing between us. I turn my attention back to my boys. I took off to where they stood waiting—a new fire lit in my heart.

There really was no going back after today. I have too much riding on me. I was done hiding from myself. Now it was just time to stop hiding from how I felt.

[exy-is-sexy]

I was tagged by lovely @ca-van and I want to thank them for the opportunity ❣️❣️

Are you named after anyone?

Yes, I'm named after my father's mother who I hate. And I dreaded it my whole life. So Neil my boy I feel you :p

When was the last time you cried?

Well that's embarrassing.... I had a nasty break up on this Thursday and yesterday I really realized what happened and I broke down and cried.

Do you have kids?

I don't and I don't want to have biological kids like ever. I want to adopt in the future when I have a stable life and a better mental health.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

With people I'm close to hellss yeah. But I try not to overdo it with strangers.

What sports do you play/ have you played?

Believe it or not I used to be an athletic person! That was before my highschool years. I decided to focus on my studies and had a few problems so I took a long break. I used to play tennis, soccer, volleyball, bocce (I know it's not really a sport but I have a medal on bocce :p) , swimming. I played tennis professionally and have two medals. But if I pick up a racket now I would suck so bad :p

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their face and especially their eyes. Believe it or not I can determine their personality and their general intentions by looking into their eyes.

Any special talents?

I am an ok writer. And I'm good with music. I can sing, play the guitar and piano (just a bit tho). I am like a human Shazam, what I mean is I can hear a song and say which artist it belongs to (if I know the artist). Other than those useless ones :p I think I'm good with languages. I currently know four languages and I want to pick up a few more.

Where were you born?

Turkey. No not the bird, the country :p

What are your hobbies?

Arguing about philosophy, history or politics with my friends. Learning new stuff about those things. Listening to music, reading fanfictions, reading books, singing and engaging with our lovely fandom :))

Do you have pets?

I used to have fish and a bird. Now I don't have any pets. But in the future I want multiple cats that I will name Gender Slayer the First, the Second and so on and I will just call them Gen, Slay or some other abbreviations.

How tall are you?

162 cm. I'm not gonna look up the ft system sorry :p

Favorite subject in school?

Science and math. But in highschool my favorite was physics and philosophy. I really love things that force me to think. I'm not boring I swear :')

Dream job?

Journalist, singer, archeologist, historian, Professor of mathematics or something I think. The first four are impossible for me because in my family they are considered "unsuccessful" so I'll probably be a computer engineer or even a professor of computer engineering some day.

I'm tagging @stabbyfoxandrew , @deadeyesthickthighs and @dianblch . ❣️❣️❣️

[magnusbae]

okay but (about your tags on cuubism's post about hob not being special for being immortal) i feel like hob's optimism ISN'T super special, either. like... hate to say this but the majority of the world isn't sad all the time? at least not in my experience, i mean. like, in stories and to a lesser degree online, there's this very pessimistic outlook that's become the norm, and so when we see hob not becoming pessimistic, we think that's special, that's unique, that's surprising. but... idk, maybe i'm naive about this, but i feel like most people DON'T feel sad and bitter about life. it's not just that most people don't want to die, it's that most people find joy in things. most people can laugh. most people can be happy. hob just has the opportunity to do that on a longer scale than anyone else. he's unique for having that chance, not for taking it.

i feel like that's part of what makes hob such an interesting foil for dream. because dream is exceptional. he is special. he is everyone's dreams, everywhere; he is powerful beyond imagining. which is why i LOVE dreamling: hob is a completely normal guy who dream can look at and understand that life is good. people are happy. dream can be happy, too.

(it's dream's unique depression vs. hob's everyday positivity that gets me asldkfjhaskdjfhs)

anyway i haven't even seen the show or read the comics so like. take this with a grain of salt. but i really like the idea of hob as just a completely normal person who was lucky enough to be overheard by death at just the right time.

(Ref Post) Now see, let's start from the fact that in fanon, you're allowed to experience the ship in any way you personally enjoy. Many people genuinely love and prefer seeing Hob as absolutely normal guy versus Dream's sepernatual status.

If we discuss our philosophies in general about real people, I'd agree with you that generally on the internet, or more specifically on tumblr, a pessimistic outlook on things in the norm.

However in your example you had omitted a few key points. You've given the average person's day to day life as an example to people who are happy and generally optimistic. You do not take into account the events Hob had went through: pandemic on large and horrifying scale, battlefields, murders and starvation. Then even on a more radical scale, losing his wife and both his children, being drowned alive but unable to die from it (which is torture on a scale human's can't understand) being the only being of his kind aside from a stranger he meets once a century (alienation and loneliness) etc etc

Now those are not precisely your day to day experiences that most non-tumblr people would be cheerfully okay with, yes?

Most normally people would struggle to live with even one of those events, now, consider the fact, Hob lives with ALL of those events with little to no change to his personality, outlook on life and general functionality.

That is not your average human behaviour, simply aint.

Some people enjoy seeing Hob as 100% normal, some people like me, enjoy seeing Hob as batshit crazy too >:D

Like, yes, near Dream of the Endless, almost anyone, supernatural or not, would seem rather dull and normal, and it does not take away from the reality of things, Hob is still human, Hob is still RATHER normal near Dream.

But if you take Dream away from the equitation, and inspect Hob solely as an individual character, he is far from being normal.

By all means, he'd be considered the demigod of the story if other gods/endless were not introduced.

A character who does not age, die and who has no payment to pay for his boon, no secret Achilles' heel? Who lives century after century without allowing anything change who he is the core? (for better of worse he stays generally true to himself) like, frankly, that's not normal.

TLTR while I agree with you that tumblr's outlook on life is rather gloomy and most folk wouldn't be this blue, I would also say that most people would have severe reaction to trauma and loss, and wouldn't be able to carry repeated trauma through decades and centuries.