#thank you so so much Ghost I will treasure this forever!

[giggly-squiggily]

SQUIGGGGSSSS HERE U GOOOO :33333

I’m working on the others and I’ll send em to u when I finish but I wanted to send u this one of hashira squiggs and gyomei cause they’re very sweet <3

I wanna thank you for these past years I can’t believe that it’s been 4 years and so much has happened since we became friends. You introduced me to the amazing community on tumble and I have so many fond memories of our talks be it life, chaos, oc’s, or our dogs our talks always brighten my day. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and you’re always so special to me like a big sister I love you tons squiggs you mean so much and no words can describe how much you mean to me and how grateful I am to you for everything.

Thank you for the past 4 years HERES to more fun and chaos <3

~ Ghost

OH MY GOD- 😭😭😭😭😭🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 GHOST- GHOST I CANT- THIS IS TOO SWEET HOLY-

I’m genuinely so touched right now- I’m crying in my phone AHHH 😭😭😭😭😭 Thank you so, so very much! My heart is literally soaring I can’t even- AHHHHH 😍😍😍😍😍😭😭😭😭 This is beyond adorable- you drew Squiggs so CUTE! And GYOMEI MY BELOVED AHXNNANZNSNS 😭😭😭😭🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💖 I LOVE THIS!!!

Most importantly: thank you so much! I can’t believe I’ve gotten to know such an amazing person like yourself for 4 years!!! You’re so amazing, friend! Everytime we talk about our OCs and dogs and fandom and sometimes just keyboard smashing to the end of time- my day is MADE! Thank you for making my time here on Tumblr even more special and bringing a huge ray of Ghost-style sunshine to my life! I’m forever grateful to get to know you 🫂🫂🫂🫂💖 Here’s to the past 4 years and to many more! 🥂

Now I must plan my counter attack mehehehehhehe 😈 Expect to see Demon!Ghost in a manga panel soon! Muahaha! 😈🤣🥰🫂💖

[sincerely-sofie]

WAILING AND SCREAMING

Aaaand here are the boys!😊(More under the cut!)

Don’t ask me why for these are simply vibes, but I feel like “Papanoir” [center] (@sincerely-sofie’s Dusknoir) is the oldest, since he’s canonically a grandpa, “Dusk” [right] (or mine), then finally “Dadnoir” [left] (@fujii-draws’). He just seems like he would be the baby tbh. Feel free to contradict me but I think it’s funny that the canonical father would be younger than the middle-aged bachelor. (or is he one👀)

Dusk would see himself in both of his counterparts—one having come through all his struggles to become a nurturing and peaceful individual with a lot of knowledge to share, the other still struggling to reconcile his mistakes but putting in the effort to do so—and he would be willing to listen to both of their stories so he might learn from their pasts as well.

As mentioned before, Eliana would exercise caution at first—but once she figures out that these guys are as chill and/or working themselves like hers, she’s totally vibing with them, particularly with Papanoir since he’s older and wiser.

(Dusk is not jealous. That would be irrational—Papanoir is literally himself. He has no reason to feel a little angy that he and Eliana get along so well.)

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[cloudcountry]

I'm the previous anon on silver request, thank you, it seems I misunderstood the event.

Can I request Silver probably around vargas camp? I remember Yuu is taking a picture for the event. Just thinking if their relationship could be a secret?

Is this a correct one for the event?

yes anon!! thank you so much :D !!! this prompt is super cute and im always happy to write for silver WHHWAWHAWHAWHA :D

SILVER & HIS SECRET RELATIONSHIP (1.8k details)

“You want to take a picture of us?” Silver asks softly.

You nod excitedly, holding the ghost camera Crowley gave you in front of you. While Crowley said you were supposed to document what happened over the course of Camp Vargas, he never told you that you couldn’t take a few pictures of your own.

“Okay.” Silver hums, a smile blooming on his face at your insistence, “Come here.”

He stretches his arm away from his body so you can slot yourself at his side, ghost camera poised and ready to take a picture. Silver pulls you closer, resting a gentle hand on your upper arm as he rests his head against you. Your heart stumbles in your chest and your hand starts to shake, but you take the picture anyway.

Each other captures your smiling faces and his pink cheeks.

“Thank you.” you whisper as you step away, and Silver shakes his head in response.

“You don’t need to thank me, love.” he says, “I hope you can treasure that photo forever.”

[corvuscorona]

"You Never Forget Your First Love."

The other day, a mutual (hi! you know who you are I think probably hello hi! thank you for the Posting Impetus!) said something that made me curious (for, like, the 80th time, actually; lol. I Have Thoughts) about something: what's the split on people who subscribe to the "Stranger of Paradise probably intended for us to believe that Jack & Sarah were in love" mindset, vs. not? In general, but ESPECIALLY around these parts.

I genuinely didn't read it that way myself (& I do NOT normally give media (general) this much credit, but the writing in this game is sublime; I had no choice but to fully engage Scholar Mode on it), + I think it's interesting that SPECIFICALLY any of my fellow tumblr people / AO3-heads / Gay People Online / etc. seem to have. (I expect nothing from people who haven't been basting themselves in the same online sub-subcultures as me for over a decade. They're allowed to write wrong things on wikis, and have done so already; it's whatever.)

I wanna metapost badly again, so let's go. Join me. No poll. If you have an opinion on this, I'm looking directly into your eyes and beckoning you towards your own keyboard + also the reblog button / comment section, like a weird ghost. What did you think when you first played the game?? What do you think right now? What are you about to think after you have read a bunch of my words. Tell Me. I Need To Know This.

Spoilers for, idk, everything? Today we will use everything we've got to talk about Princess Sarah.

1. As a Narrative Element

This game makes a point of referring to Sarah as things like "a symbol of hope and peace" as often as possible, & when it isn't doing that she's usually in the role of An Object Or Device Of Some Kind, anyway. She's important because she's capable of holding light and dark in balance & SOMEONE'S gotta hold onto this dark crystal for safekeeping, and also we're gonna need to upset that balance on purpose later. There's that conversation in the Wicked Arbor about whether the Strangers would "choose" her (as opposed to "treasure") as the "reward" for succeeding in their mission[1], & there's the one in the Sunken Shrine where Jed asks Jack what he thinks of her and Jack says that he doesn't care about her as a person[2] BUT that protecting her is mission-critical (lol), too.

Sarah's death is metaphorically charged. It's the point of no return: the dark crystal breaks, the balance of light & dark gets extremely ruined, & Literally All The Darkness In Cornelia converges in one place (Fool's Missive XXVII). That's the payoff for the "symbol of hope and peace" motif, and communicating this idea that "the metaphorical light of hope just For Real Died, Like Catastrophically Imploded, No Take-Backs" feels to me like it was the highest priority here. Second-highest goes to "Jack had way more humanity before, but he set it aside on purpose and is actively in the middle of losing the rest of it." "Sort of." "I'm not getting into what counts as humanity or doesn't because if I did we would be here forever."

Basically, I'm saying that the tidiest read on the situation is "Jack despairs because Sarah dying means in a very literary and final way that everything is ruined forever, which doesn't necessarily have anything to do with, like, Love (romantic)." I don't think the text of the game is particularly signaling that Love (romantic) is involved, and I think that if it meant to, it would be more obvious about it. You could bundle "an romance" into the "humanity" thing if you wanted to, but I'm not inclined to, based on some additional list items that you can read below this one.

[1] The fact that Neon ALSO says she feels bad for her for being thought of in this way only reinforces my conviction that the game is pointing at Sarah & yelling "REMEMBER THAT SHE IS MOSTLY A SYMBOL!", tbh. Who wants to go point out how freaky the mechanics of Being An Royalty are w/ me and the boys??

[2] I will give the Wiki WrongPosters this: I can totally see this as some kind of irony thing, given that he's still missing like a fucktillion of his memories when he says it. However! As mentioned above, I have other reasons not to read it as evidence that he was ever, like, romantically interested in her.

2. As a Sheltered Youth™

We don't have a TON of information to work with RE: Sarah as, like, a person, but here are a couple of hard facts to start with: she's 19 (per the data book, but she'd have to be somewhere in the 18-to-early-20's age range regardless or her whole deal wouldn't really make much sense, imo. She's a baby...!), and she's royalty. I think this ties into her utility as a walking metaphor, among other things; she's archetypically young, fresh, & idealistic. I'd call her naïve but the game obviously isn't interested in portraying it as a weakness, so positive words only; why not.

You could argue that people look to her as a symbol of hope because she hasn't directly experienced enough strife to exhibit hopelessness or fear in response to bad news in the abstract. I find it interesting that before Jack, like, knocks the wind out of her & tells Sophia to take her outside so she can see for herself how bad things have gotten at the end of the game, she says that her duty is to die with her people if she has to, & it doesn't even seem to occur to her that she could lead at least some of them away to safety...? When she changes her mind, she still talks about herself as a symbol before she ever uses the word "leader". She sees HERSELF in terms of symbols and metaphors, and takes action based on her designated role As One Of Those. Not very practical.

There's also the dialogue you can have with the queen the first time you're allowed to run around in the throne room at the beginning of the game, where she asks Jack to smile in front of her daughters (NOT just Mia; daughters, plural). Even if she only means "dude can you be polite please," the fact that this is The thing she has to say to Jack is telling. Is it going to upset your 19-year-old daughter to see that the Guy Whose Job It Is To Kill Monsters looks serious? Why do you think this? Does your 19-year-old daughter understand how serious the situation is, generally speaking? Do you not WANT her to for some reason? Boats don't work anymore unless a weird elf messes with them first. Not thinking very hard about the implications of this is something a sheltered person does.

Residual time loop un-memories aside, a young woman in this situation is so obviously going to have a huge crush on Jack Garland no matter what. He Is So Cool, first of all, & he's also Different from the adult men she gets to see on an everyday basis (family, guards, rando townspeople[3]...). It's not like the political social scene could POSSIBLY be thriving in this world, either; it all seems to be one kingdom we're dealing with and they're kind of busy with the external threat of being Under Fucking Attack By Monsters. Does she even get fun treats like "handsome visiting dignitaries" & what-have-you? The game doesn't present us with any potential options, here. Jack is mysterious, he has special-boy Warrior of Light status, his one job & apparent life's purpose is protecting the kingdom she loves, he's pretty nice to her (even in later cycles he at least goes out of his way to be polite!), & additionally, he's shredded. THIS makes sense to me.

There's a Q&A in the data book that has something to say about JACK as a symbol & what that has to do with this whole thing but we'll get there. We'll get there.

[3] Tangent: what's up with how Cornelia's entire adult male population appears to consist of aging queens. Why did they only make models that look Like That for the NPCs? It's awesome but I have 1 quastion

3. JACK JUMPSCARE !

I'm not about to say that he's just humoring her, or anything, but please humor ME for one second & put yourself in Jack's shoes. Not the default shoes; we can have more fun than that. Maybe the Banded Boots. Blurple ones? Shaped like a cartoon would wear them? Big spikes on the back for no reason? I love those things. Anyway, you're Jack. You're working for literally the king, & the work means Everything to you for reasons you can't even necessarily explain except to say that it JUST does. The king's eldest daughter (very young adult; Never Been Outdoors; a little overly-sociable but nice enough & what do you expect from a princess, anyway) has imprinted on you like a duckling for whatever reason. You would be nice to this person, yes? You'd be patient with her while you're in town. You have Brutal Murders to be doing, but not until, like, 2 days from now, or whatever; you're sharing space with her in some capacity in the meantime & it's in your best interests to keep her happy. (You probably even enjoy doing this, if you're Jack of a Way Earlier Cycle; I'm in no way ruling that out. Sharing your music collection with an enthusiastic Baby Adult? That's fun. I think he was probably having fun. Okay, you can step out of the fun purple shoes if you want; the Humoring Me Minute has concluded; thanks.)

Also, @2000sanimeop and I think that if Jack felt that way about her Astos would have been a little More Something about how much it was gonna suck for him when she died. In Fool's Missive XXVII he uses the word "painful," but that's about it. He doesn't even bring it up in XXV, which is the one where he says he's curious about whether she'd survive being turned into a fiend (side note: Astos fucking rocks. Why did he write that down?? I love him). & Hey SPEAKING OF ASTOS,

4. I wouldn't put Jackstos on a wiki, either.

The writing in Stranger of Paradise, SERIOUSLY, WITHOUT EXAGGERATION, is some of the best I've seen in literally anything ever. It suits not just its medium but also its sort of Place in History Relative to Other Video Games & the things it chose to DO with that medium & that niche INSANELY well. It is CUSTOMIZED. It's SO INTENTIONAL. I can't get too far into this or we'll be here all day, but the essence of what I want to say here is: there are relatively few facts presented to us by this game, compared to the implications we can go about drawing from those facts & other, external sources of context.

Sarah calls Jack her first love; that's a fact. No facts are presented to us that REALLY say much one way or the other[4] about what Jack thinks of this, himself; "fucktillion memories missing" Jack says he doesn't care, but he's missing a fucktillion of his memories, and DLC2 Jack has a set of dialogue options (hi Anne the Malboro I love you Anne the Malboro) that can point either way depending on what the player chooses, which is kind of nothing, on balance. As the audience, we can (should!) draw whatever conclusion we want about it, but none of those conclusions are text.

[4] I WILL GET TO THE DATA BOOK IN ONE SECOND. HOLD ON.

And, okay, please let me level with you. Let's be on the same page. Jack & Astos had some kind of thing going on, imo, OBVIOUSLY, but I want to be CLEAR and I want to get CREDIT for the things I'M bringing to the table to help generate this conviction. I drew that conclusion & I read that reading based on subtext, context, personal history, personal preference, & sheer gay zest for life. It is also, emphatically, NOT TEXT.

Astos refers to Jack with the ol' "...friend" in Fool's Missive XXI. He calls him "my Jack" in Fool's Missive XXXI. Canonically, textually, he has some big fucking COMPLICATED fucking feelings about this man. These are facts. If you're playing this game as Some Guy, I can see how you could potentially absorb these facts & still pay them much less regard[5] than I did & continue to. My argument here is that god I wish I lived in a world where Some Guy could extend the same courtesy to me and not treat Sarah's textual affection for Jack as something that necessarily indicates Some Kind Of Reciprocal Romantic Whatever, Definitely, Obviously, Of Course.

[5] Longer Tangent: I have been informed that the Some Guys of the world are currently pretty good at Recognizing a character that behaves in a way that's Pretty Gay, but tend to stop there, possibly for the combined reasons that A. they're not very familiar with a lot of the the ways gay relationships often work (you know, soul resonance. mutual recognition. sharing a brain etc.) and B. the Object Of Affection is usually the player character and they subconsciously shy away from thinking of a Guy They're Supposed To Identify With as gay. This is practically a lead-in to an entire separate post I could make, so I'll leave it at that, lol.

The writing is too good for that kind of assumption! I'M SERIOUS!! It's mind-blowingly subtle & endlessly fascinating to hold up to the light & view from every possible angle, and "Jack & Sarah were in love" + "Jack & Astos were in love" are BOTH ANGLES. I'm personally very very interested in giving the text credit for that. I think it's impressive. I think it's really, really cool, and I think it was on purpose. Speaking of which,

5. Word of God agrees with me, btw

This is from the Q&A section on page 156 of the Confidential File. The translations below are my own (I think they're straightforward enough, but lmk if you know more than me & I'm actually being stupid in there somewhere. Alt text has the JPN, if you want to copypaste it or something). Someone asked:

Why is it that you established Garland as someone Sarah has a romantic interest in?

The answer is from Daisuke Inoue (director, one of 3; the other 2 are from Team Ninja; he's from Square Enix):

That was because, from a narrative standpoint, we wanted Sarah to be the kind of person who holds onto hope. You can imagine that she saw the "hope" to save the world in Jack, a potential Warrior of Light. Sarah is seen by her people as a symbol of a bright future, but if there were nobody to give her hope, that might destabilize her emotionally. As for whether she felt genuine love for Jack, or just mistook her feelings of admiration towards him for "first love," we'll leave that to your interpretation.

The first time I read this, I thought the question was implying the aforementioned Reciprocal Something, but on closer inspection that doesn't even seem to be true! "思い人" seems to indicate a directional relationship; as in, the question assumes that Jack is an object of affection to Sarah, but assumes nothing about what Jack thinks.

Also, the answer uses the word "初恋" (hatsukoi), which is a very established Concept as far as "first love" goes, but in that one cutscene, Sarah says "初めての恋" (hajimete no koi), which is. Different, but I couldn't tell you how, lol. It's Not The Exact Same Phrase, but I'm not sure whether it's meaningfully different in this context. If I had to guess, I'd say that IF ANYTHING it could be a way of saying "first love" without invoking the cultural CONSTRUCT of First Love (as much)? But it's whatever. The localization holds up. All sources show that Sarah had Feelings about Jack, and all sources CONSPICUOUSLY neglect to mention Jack's feelings about her.

It was on purpose. This is my license to be as annoying as I want for one second here. I am right. All the other writing in this game is notably subtle, efficient, intentional, and skilled, AND ALSO, WHEN do you ever see anyone write such a richly beautiful, mostly-subtextual relationship between two men, which can easily be read as a romantic thing, and NOT explicitly canonize a very possible romantic relationship between at least one of those men and a woman, like not even in an interview or anything. What the fuck, man.

I'm putting away the Respectable Scholar Hat now. This is so funny. The person asking this question didn't EVEN go as far as assuming Jack & Sarah had any kind of Actual Romance going on, & the answer STILL dials it back to "she might have been conflating her feelings about Jack AS A SYMBOL with actual affection, also. We'll let you decide : ) ". This game is everything ever.

[kedsandtubesocks]

Hold On, Hold On

pairing: Cowboy!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

summary: Your cowboy leaves for another bounty and you face how fragile a home can be

wc: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only. MDNI, old west AU, semi established relationship, violence and town in peril, deep yearning, light angst but happy ending, heavy make-out session that gets a bit heated and spicy at the end

a/n: this is based off the season 3 episode ‘the pirate’ except with bandits lol, the title of this is from another neko case song of the same name (no surprise) I have a whole little collection of Cowboy Din pieces but this works as a good stand alone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy & biggest thank you to my cowgal forever @skeletoncowboys this is for you I love ya

The wilderness calls to your bounty hunting cowboy once again.

“Don’t know how long this one is going to take. So I’m having the kid come with me.” Din tells you, his black bandana covering his face.

As much as you understand, an ache swells through your chest fast.

Would this be the last time you saw him? Saw either of your boys that have become beautiful fixtures in your life?

Something as dangerous as a storm rips through your mind. This all is temporary and you knew that.

Nothing is sure or set in stone with a man who chases after demons in the desert.

Din’s occupation as a bounty hunter meant he jumped around from town to town, never settling in a place for too long. Even with a ward in his care, you understood there was no need for him to grow roots in a particular community.

The only reason why he often brought his bounties here was because the mayor of your town was a previous member of the same bounty hunting guild Din is in. You never even knew bounty hunters held guilds. But that is the life you are wading through now.

It’s the life that’s led you to this, to seeing Din and the baby off on their journey.

You kiss the kid goodbye. His sweet pudgy cheeks puff up so warmly when he smiles at you.

“Keep an eye on your dad, little bug,” you tell the baby as you poke his sweet little nose. He giggles and it’s a sound you will treasure.

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Din croaks low as he shifts the baby up into his arms.

You haven’t been able to look Din in the eyes since he announced his departure. You don’t even know why this particular trip is affecting you so much.

“I packed a few extra slices of bread.” You explain rapidly. “And I know you’re still upset that I’m having you take one of my quilts but trust me, I’d rather you two have it-“

He cuts off your rambling quietly with the soft whisper of your name. It strikes fast like lightning shot through your spine.

Now you can’t help but turn your gaze up to him.

The whispers around this man painted him to be an omen because you could never see his eyes.

That part is true. The shadow of Din’s hat casts a deep shadow heavily blocking any chance of getting a good look at him in the eye. Then his bandana completely hides him from the nose down. At times he truly exists as a faceless phantom, a wandering ghost that has now found residence in your heart’s chambers.

But right now, this phantom stares directly at you and you can clearly see the eyes of this righteous man.

You’ve seen his face, kissed his soft lips. But his eyes…

Those rich soil eyes hold so much emotion and now hold your entire soul captive in their gaze.

You say nothing, don’t even know what to tell him.

A goodbye feels too simple. A please come home safe doesn't sound true because was this really his home?

Would this ever be his home?

And could you ever house a man as wild as a tumbleweed?

“Thank you.” Din speaks first. However, that simple thank you is all he says.

Your arms ache to embrace him. Your lips wish you were brave enough to yank the cloth across his face down to kiss him with every inch of your love.

He suddenly nods at you and you only nod back.

Without another word Din jumps onto his horse. The animal, which you believe hates you, now lets you softly pet him. You wish you could appreciate this small step but heaviness clogs your heart too much for any other emotion to pass.

The baby makes a soft whimper and both you and Din snap your attention to him. With his chubby sweet little fingers, your little bug simply waves a sad soft thing at you. He’s so smart, the kid, and you swallow back hard as you wave back. Your eyes return to Din.

The shade of his hat now has you searching harder for his eyes.

This time you can’t find them.

Nothing else is said.

Din simply kicks his heels against his horse and then begins a slow ride away.

No breeze of the wind carries them. This time it is only the stillness of the desert. For some reason, as you watch them dwindle further and further away, the stillness scares you more.

Summer beats down an unforgiving heat.

The air gets thick with the dry dust and you’re thankful for the cool nights that settle in. The early evening breeze from the open window already feels refreshing as you finish buying a few provisions from the commissary.

The clerk, an older man whose wife you are fond of, gently says your name hesitantly. His eyes are even a bit nervous and you ready yourself for whatever he asks.

“What…whatever happened to that young babe you had with you?”

You had previously been in the store many times with the baby happily cuddled in your arms. You used to cover him with a small light quilt to keep him safe from any curious eyes. You didn’t want them recognizing him if they saw the baby with your bounty hunter. But of course, the sight of you suddenly with a new babe did spark a few curious conversations.

Now your lips twitch but out of a fondness soaked in an aching sadness.

You haven't seen your boys for three months.

It’s the longest they’ve ever been gone. Not even a letter has been sent your way. But then again, you don’t take Din as one to write letters. The panic, the sleepless nights worrying if they were alright, all those emotions bleed into a numbness now. You simply wade through it all like trying to find an exit out of a sandpit slowly sinking you.

Swallowing the canyon sized lump in your throat, you simply give a brave false smile to the clerk staring so worried now.

You remember once jokingly telling him you had grown the baby in your garden. After all, you had first found the little terror eating your carrots.

“The wind swept him away from me,” you reply and you even hear the hollowness you cannot hide in your tone.

The clerk curiously frowns confused but his eyes seem to read past your brave face. He comfortingly pats your hand still on the counter and wishes you a safe walk back to your cabin.

With a grateful small grin you move to head out of the store.

Then the air bursts with a violent and loud crack.

Bandits are not a new occurrence to you or to the town. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would arrive, make a ruckus at the saloon or unfortunately leave the town with more than they came with.

But the bandits arriving now come in a wave, like a mass of locust swarming in so fast you didn’t have time to think. And you didn’t. The explosion comes and you and the clerk give each other a petrified look before dashing outside.

Smoke rises from the edge of town and your heart sinks horrified at the chaos quickly consuming. The raiders ride in fast. The sticks of dynamite in their hand speak of a sinister threat of what was to come if anyone tries to stop them.

You move fast, trying to help your dear clerk to his house to be with his wife. You try to keep low. But when you are up against a swarm, it’s hard to outrun their staggering numbers.

Anywhere you turn the raider’s sinisters faces laugh proud and wild from on top of their horses. Some of them even chase on foot like released devils. It’s a bedlam choking your throat in panic.

Leave. You have to leave, find shelter or at least hide in your home.

Thankfully a group of you, including Mayor Karga, band together and flee fast from the town out past the outskirts. You all make camp on a secluded hillside that overlooks the town.

In the dead of night, the town illuminates a destructive crimson that has your legs wanting to give out.

“Don’t worry everyone!” Karga with his steady leveled heads guidance calls out in the night to you and the others townsfolk. “Before we evacuated I sent a telegram to my best man! He will come!”

For some reason your mind immediately flashes to Din.

You almost want to laugh. Of course your love sick heart would clutch onto the idea of him during a perilous moment of turmoil. He was a known fighter, though you had never seen him in combat. But a sharp internal voice striking as sharp as a rattlesnake tells you not to put your faith in bounty hunters.

Not even Din.

You squeeze away the tears clouding up your eyes and try to sleep alone under the desert’s ever watchful eye.

Staring up at the clear beautiful sky, you watch as the stars twinkle down below.

There were children’s tales about wishing on stars, on how seeing one fly across the sky was the reminder of how quick and fast wishes come. You remember even telling that story to your favorite little carrot stealing bug.

Emotions clog your throat even more at the thought of the baby and his father.

Something in you whispers to make a wish. That maybe at this hour of feeling so lost, a wish is all you have.

But again, wishing on stars, wishing for bounty hunters to make a miraculous return from the horizon, is for children. And you are too old to hold onto wishes when your town faces a real chaos that wishes might not be able to maybe save.

A day passes among the hills.

The next day, talk bubbles among some of the townsfolk to try and take the county back. But even you know the ammunition would not withstand the sheer force of the bandits.

And the bandits are apparently a stubborn group.

Their leader, a terrifying man with a wild beard by the name of Gorian Shard, announces with a loud voice to Karga they will never leave.

“A fair retribution for you not serving my men and then discovering your precious bounty hunter killed more of my comrades!”

Your heart again jumps at the thought of it being Din.

But your mind races to the worst possibilities. Did he encounter these raiders and not make it out alive? What about the baby?

You refuse to let yourself dwindle on those thoughts. You can’t. You have to find a way to keep moving, find a way out of this situation.

The townsfolk grow restless and worried, more so than you.

“Now everyone please, just hold on. I know help is on the way!” Karga urges, a voice of reason and faith. It settles everyone enough as another night among the wilderness arrives.

This time clouds cluster in the skies above and hide the stars. You think it’s fitting as you go to sleep with tears in your eyes.

You think of Kargas words, the idea of holding onto faith. You suppose even now a part of you still greedily clutches onto a last bit of hope that you’ll see your cowboy again.

You glance up at the cloudy sky again.

Even though there are no stars out, your heart now sends out a whisper of a wish. It’s a simple one.

What else do you have to lose making a wish now?

So you wish for safety - for you, for the town, and for your two boys that you hope more than ever are alive.

Soft low mummering wakes you up. Above stretches a soft periwinkle blue morning sky. When you rise you find so many staring down towards the town.

When you go to see what has everyone in a commotion, your breath gets snatched right out of your chest.

Din is fast on his horse.

He moves rapidly between the buildings and among the shadows that you believe you might have just imagined him.

But then, he swiftly rides out from a sharp corner and shoots three bandits down.

The towns people cry in absolute cheer but your eyes are on the cowboy moving like a phantom. It really is him.

Din.

He’s not alone though. More riders move in to take down the bandits but everyone including yourself focus on the mystery rider.

“Isn’t that the man with no eyes!? The one with the face you can’t even see?” Someone whispers.

“No…can’t be.” Another voice argues.

Karga suddenly chuckles, warm and reassured. “Trust me, my friends. That is indeed the same bounty hunter. He’s ours.”

A sharp flash of possessiveness rises.

You want to correct the Mayor and say he’s yours. That bounty hunter is your bounty hunter, the one who’s son eats from your garden, the bounty hunter who’s favorite fruit is oranges, whose face you knew and existence is now carved a deep cavern in your heart.

Din.

Your bounty hunter.

He’s a wonder to watch in action. Smooth, swift, firing with precision and maneuvering with an almost grace.

Your throat goes dry thinking of how strong this cowboy is the same one who once got flustered when he told you he can’t dance.

The bandits are effortlessly taken down by Din and the reinforcements he brought. Peace returns with the warm dawn. A beautiful relieved joy bursts through the crowd as everyone starts the descent back to the town. Your legs barely carry you but you eventually find yourself there among your town.

Rubble lines the streets. A few shops including the cantina took the worst damage. A steady rebuild is already being discussed among the townsfolk but your attention rests entirely on the black bandana wearing man.

He’s alive.

The baby sits cozy in his arms, smiling as bright as a new sun. Your mind can’t even process the thought of Din riding into battle with the kid.

Then a woman walks towards him.

Her gait is steady, confident. When she removes her hat to wipe her face, striking auburn colored hair falls from under her hat. She is lovely and it dawns on you that she was with the reinforcements.

You can’t help but admire her for being a part of the group who help liberate and retrieve your home. But when she moves closer to talk to Din, even playfully smiles at the baby, your heart starts deflating.

Soon Karga walks forward to speak to the hunters and the townspeople.

The entire time he talks you stay hidden against the shadow of a building, watching. The woman stands next to Din the entire time and grins so fondly. That look only intensifies when she goes to stare at him. Her eyes are molten and when Din turns back to her, he nods.

You hate that you cannot see his eyes.

The wilderness is not a forgiving thing. It brings in many travelers that simply come and go and it seems Din might be one of them. Because of course he would be close with another, a true cowgirl who can handle the wilderness and his ever changing lifestyle.

He never mentioned another woman in his life, but you suppose you wouldn’t either if you were in his position.

You wonder now if your existence to him was a simple way to pass the time, if you were just a quiet pit stop not ever meant to hold him for long. You try not to let these acidic jealous thoughts poison you, but it’s too late.

Before Din can turn to look towards the crowd, you turn on your heels and walk away against the shadows of the building.

You go to help the clerk, his sweet wife clean up the shop as best as you can.

“I wonder if the bounty hunter we’ve seen around here with the black bandana is handsome?” The clerk’s wife offers trying to lighten the space and her husband chuckles.

You stay quiet while your heart whispers out that yes, that bounty hunter is quite handsome.

When exhaustion mixes too dangerously with the heartbreak still brimming in your body, you decide to slip home.

You don’t even realize how long this day has been until you step out of the shop and find the sun already making her way to bed over the horizon.

It's comforting in a strange way.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, a new day, and so will you. You will move on.

You walk forward, straight out of the town and to the outskirts to where your cabin sits. You want to cry seeing your home thankfully still standing. A few animals are gone. Some crops and even stored goods from the shed have been stolen. The inside of your house is a ransacked clutter.

In the stillness, among the settled destruction, quiet tears sting your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s from the exhaustion of these past few days or the ache knowing your bounty hunter might be taken away from you by something fiercer than the wilderness.

He’s alive, your heart whispers.

You got your wish.

And that is true, but heavens above the truth hurts a violent ache.

Footsteps against the porch outside make you jump and whip around to stare from inside your house. There against your open doorway stands a beautiful shadow.

“Din…” Your voice even sounds hollow saying his name.

He pulls his mask down. His stunning handsome face stares at you wide as if you’re the phantom. Then he moves with a blinding speed you witnessed against the bandits.

In quick steps he is suddenly before you and then, you are in his arms.

He smells of gunpowder, sweat and something faintly him. It’s intoxicating and you can’t even stop yourself. Your arms wrap around him tight.

He breathes your name out and you think it might even sound like a shaken watery prayer.

“I didn’t see you among the others and I thought…I thought the worst, honey.” Din speaks with a heavy tone as thick as a torn bush.

That sweet but cursed nickname ignites a tender warmth through your body.

“I did too, about you.” You reply back small and in a waterlogged voice. “Haven’t seen you in months and I thought…”

You can’t even utter the words.

You instead simply allow yourself this moment to hold him tight.

“I know.” Din answers low. “The job took a lot longer than I thought. I’m sorry.”

“But then Karga sent me that ‘gram.” His voice steels hard.

So, it was him that Karga was speaking about.

“And I had to come back.” Din breathes out and squeezes you in his arms. His face even burrows against the top of your head and your eyes go wide.

Quietly your mind conjures up the image of the beautiful woman with the sunset colored hair and your eyes go misty.

So many emotions swirl in you that you can’t even swim against their tides to steady yourself.

A soft coo comes from the door now and instantly you and Din pull away from each other. Waddling in with wide eyes is the baby.

Without hesitation you leave Din’s arms to rush to the kid who once he sees you lights up. Then his arms reach out wide and grabby towards you. So effortlessly you scoop the little critter in your arms and pepper kisses across his face.

His sweet little coos twinkle like the sweetest wind chime.

“You came back just to eat more of my veggies didn’t you, little bug?” You laugh watery as the baby giggles so bright.

For the rest of the evening the little babe stays cozy in your arms refusing to leave even as you and Din slowly start cleaning up the cabin.

It’s a slow, quiet process.

Neither of you ask how the other is, how the other has been these missing months. The tension in the air clouds with a thickness you don’t know how to navigate.

Eventually the baby falls asleep quickly and happily snuggled in the makeshift bed.

Exhausted and in a type of trance all you can do is plop yourself on the edge of your porch. Din with his boots echoing on the wood quietly moves to sit beside you.

“Are you alright?” Din surprisingly speaks first in a comforting and low tone.

“Yeah it’s just… it’s been a long day.” It’s been a long couple of days, a couple of months and now, your ghost is materialized beside you.

“I bet.” Din comforts you so gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this place back to the way it was, honey.”

We will.

He included himself in those plans.

“You don’t have to stay too long,” but you reply low into the early evening air. “I understand your work keeps you busy and…”

The words become barbed and cut your throat on the way out.

“I know you had to come back because Karga sent out that distress signal. But I know this isn’t your home.”

Bounty hunters don’t stay in one place for long. He’s teaching you that.

And besides, what home could you truly give him?

The one you have now needs major repairs from the damage done by the bandits. Even before then your life compared to his is a simple mundane quietness that he might grow bored of.

Among the wilderness, the mirage is a sea of deception. It distorts the landscape before your eyes and for some reason that has you thinking of the times Din has returned to you from other jobs. You suppose that is what happened with you and Din. You wandered too deep into an unbelievable daydream and got stuck in the mirage, in the illusion of building a life with this man.

Din is still so far away, just out of your reach shimmering in the distance and untouchable.

After all, your bounty hunter is considered a ghost.

“I…” Din’s voice catches on itself and when you turn to him, the look on his face breaks your soul. His deep soil eyes are glossy, soaked with tears. His mouth opens in a sad frown.

Din swallows hard. Then his gorgeous sun kissed features frown even as confusion flickers in his gaze.

“I did come back for Karga, yes. But I came back because my home was in danger. Because you were in danger.”

His voice is clouded with conviction but running through it is an undercurrent of hurt.

Tears start to stream down your cheeks as free as rivers while you stare at him.

“You had to come home.” You croak the words out and a wild adoration resonates through your body.

Din nods firm, resolved.

You don’t know who moves first, who strikes first, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are clutching each other and Din’s mouth kisses yours with the same wild power he shows in combat. He’s unrelenting and desperate but you suppose so are you.

The nights were long alone with your hand and simply thinking of his broad back, his beautiful thick neck, the feeling of his strong hands against you. And now, he is real solid flesh and blood beneath your fingertips. His tongue licks into your mouth trying to taste and consume everything you have. Your hands run to his hair and softly his hat falls away leaving you the bare face bounty hunter who you love entirely.

You clutch onto his shoulders and suddenly pull him close not even caring where you are.

Your back hits against the wood of the porch as Din leans down above. Din groans loud when his lips kiss your neck tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses a fiery path down your neck to your shoulders.

“Can I remove this, honey?” His voice is a debauched croak as he tugs at your garment blouse. Those deep eyes of his peer up at you beautiful fathomless abyss you want to fade into. Once you nod quickly he slips your blouse down exposing your chest to the evening air.

You wonder if a wild spirit has possessed you to let Din do this on your front porch but you embrace it. Especially when his tongue begins circling your nipple. Your mouth presses tight to and not let a whine escape you.

He suddenly kisses your breast with tenderness. He’s soft and lets his tongue trace a mindless path against your skin. It makes your body melt. Then he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks loudly.

Your body leans up trying to get closer to him, trying to grind against any part of him, to get relief.

Din becomes a man possessed himself, licking and sucking both of your breasts until saliva coats them both

You sigh his name to the wind.

He finally draws back to stare down at you. He has never looked more beautiful. His eyes are completely blown out like a moonless night staring at you with pure devotion.

You lean up kiss him not even caring at how cold the air is against your bare chest. You need to be near him, need to consume him as much as he’s already consuming you.

Then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel approaches.

The sound galvanizes you both in a frenzy.

You rapidly yank your blouse up. Din effortlessly leans across you fast, almost covering you, as he whips to face forward. You realize it’s a type of protective move that makes your heart swell.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A woman’s voice arrives amused.

Now scrambling up, you gently move Din away. There standing a few feet away from the entrance to the porch is the woman with the sunset hair.

She grins a coy knowing thing and your heart drops.

You stare at her petrified. She simply grins warmer. Then she winks at you before turning her gaze to Din.

“I just wanted to let you know that myself and a few others are heading back to camp. Don’t want to keep my dear wife waiting too long after all.” She chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying here.”

Wait, wife? Confusion creeps in hearing her words.

“Yes.” Din replies with a curt nod.

“I figured.” The woman smiles and then flickers her attention back to you. With a poised warm expression she nods to you and you nod back, a bit stunned.

“Take care Din, enjoy your time back home. We’ll see you soon.” She says with a deep kindness and you don’t miss the way she phrases Din being back home.

“You as well Bo.” He bids her goodbye.

The woman, Bo, gives you a final warm grin and then walks to her horse you can spot faintly in the darkness.

“Who was that?” You have to ask.

“A good friend. She’s married to my people’s blacksmith. The two of them were the ones who rallied the reinforcements that helped me today.” Din explains simply.

Your eyes go wide. All the jealousy feels embarrassing now and you want to bring that woman back so you can both thank her and apologize.

“I’ll have to thank her and the others soon.” You mutter and Din hums a quiet agreeing noise.

“I would be honored to introduce you to them.” Din affirms.

The confusion you had quickly turns into a slight amusement tickling your lips and a small giggle even almost escapes you.

This day has been a whirlwind finally setting you down on your feet and now here you are, with your cowboy.

So you slide closer to him on the patio and curl your arms around his torso. Your body leans and curls against his back.

Closing your eyes, you burrow your face against Din’s strong solid frame. The fabric of his under shirt smells faintly of sunlight and something uniquely Din.

You kiss his back with the gentlest of pressure and Din draws your arms around him closer. He exhales a deep sigh you feel being so close against him.

A soft summer breeze of the desert breathes new life through the air.

“We’ll have to fix the fence tomorrow.” Din quietly notes and you hum in agreement.

There was much work to do. You even dread for a split moment thinking of all the work that has to be done in the heat tomorrow. But you also imagine the baby wandering around babbling so sweetly as he wears Din’s way too big hat…

And Din being by your side every step.

You squeeze him tighter, a silent apology for ever doubting this incredible force of a man.

“Welcome home.” You whisper to him.

Din’s hand squeezes yours.

“Yeah…M’home, honey.”

In your arms, you have caught a phantom of the wilderness and you plan to hold onto him as long as you can.

[fleetingvow]

‘ GHOST OF THE PAST .

Anthony Lockwood x Female Reader

SYNOPSIS. in which anthony recalls the tragedy of the only person who stirred his blood and thoughts. the girl who stayed young forever.

WARNINGS. heavy angst with a character’s death, specifically the reader’s. unproofread.

NOTE. anthony and the others are aged up by five years. lucy and george are vaguely mentioned in the story. this fic focuses more on anthony’s thoughts of how his romance started with the reader and his thoughts of when he lost her.

NAVIGATION. you can find more of my works about anthony lockwood and wednesday addams by clicking the link here! a fair warning, they’re all angsty!

NOTE. written in third person’s point of view. this fic is written by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission. inspiration is lovely, but plagiarism by paraphrasing is not, as well as stealing someone’s idea and claiming it as your own which is exactly what plagiarism is.

𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗬 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗗 uncomfortably in his seat. It was the very dreaded day for the celebration of love once again. He had avoided it for years that the only things he felt were either hollow screams of desire to turn back time or incessant pain of memories of who he lost.

“Anthony, it’s a gift specifically intended for you.” Lucy stood in front of his desk. The library was still quite the same as it was over the years, only the books in the shelf kept multiplying, and the papers continued to stack on the wooden material. She let out a sigh before resuming with a gulp, “We can’t turn it away. It was from your . . . old friend.”

It hurt so much, hearing the words used to address to the person who was once his very soul. The one who painted the universe for him to feast his eyes. How did Lucy even get ahold of these?

“Thank you, Luce.” His voice was strained, as if he was fighting back tears that were making his tie tighter and tighter as the room almost spun around with the stress he was obtaining just by looking at the objects set before his eyes. “But I think I might need a little solitude if I were to take a look at these.”

Knowing the vulnerability of the situation, Lucy decided to leave the library without a word, just a lump on her throat as she composed herself, trying to recover from the atmosphere in the room. The giver of those gifts was once her companion, and it pained her that it was only years later that they were able to look at her belongings without feeling the need to cry instantly.

Lockwood unwrapped the presents slowly and carefully, not wanting to be careless with the items that were the only closure he had to her. As the parchment slowly revealed the silver metal underneath, there it was, the letters that made up her name engraved as she was in his mind on the back of the mirror.

“Y/N.”

He couldn’t touch it. God, how could he? Anthony looked away, his breath shaky as he looked up at the ceiling, gathering all the composure he could muster with his eyes closed.

‘Just touch it.’ He thought to himself over and over again. His trembling fingers finally closed the gap between the object and his hand. Anthony opened his eyes and took the mirror, completely removing it from the parchment wrap. He then, carefully traced the embellisments on the back of the mirror.

Y/N loved the loops and details.

It took his every bit of energy and will to turn the mirror and see himself in it. It looked exactly like her when he would stare. He always saw himself in the reflection in her eyes, and the mirror was the vivid reminder of her.

She loved that mirror. She treasured it more than she treasured her life. It was her very own object. The thing that only she could possess while many people in the world owned the exact same thing for the sight of it will only remind him of her.

Anthony recalled. He laughed humourlessly. Of course, he recalled. It was the moment his life started. The moment where he realised he was an actual living human being. That he was a person with a purpose and freedom to love and admire. To cherish and to hold.

It was the night of the Fittes’ Annual Valentine’s Ball four years ago. The London air was cold even despite his coat already being thicker than it usually was. Lucy and George had gone to the library in search of any clue for the Fittes’ dirt. He was there to appear as smug and confident as he was to be recognised by such an elite agency.

But then,

Oh, but then,

All regrets of attending the party had done nothing but dissipated. Anthony Lockwood, for the first time, felt the core of his palms hurt in an intoxicating manner that sent electric waves through his veins that he himself couldn’t explain the phenomenon when he saw the one and only Y/N L/N amongst the crowd.

He didn’t know how or why, but God, he knew what. He was aware it was her eyes, the way they glinted under the stars when she stepped outside with him in the streets of London. They shone under the silver streaks of the moon. They said someone’s eyes were the windows of their soul, and he didn’t know what they meant.

Not until he got a glimpse and was trapped under some type of spell that when he looked, Lockwood witnessed the universe being painted around him, flushing colours in the void of his existence, and putting stars to keep him away from the dark.

So smitten he was that he forgot to check the placements of the stars. If they were aligned closely . . . or if they were aligned at all.

They weren’t.

Anthony was pulled back from his memories, turning the mirror away from his face as he put it back down to the wrappers. He couldn’t stop recalling now. Her eyes, her hair, her smile, her skin — Just — Just everything about her, he could all remember it so vividly that it was hurting every bone in his body, making every inch of his skin scream for her.

“Why now?” He whispered, putting his hand on his face to cover it frustratedly.

“Why not?” She whispered in his ear. It was the ghost of the past. It was yet another vision of her, a memory that he wished to relive. It was still four years ago, just two months after he met her. Her breath was hot on his skin as she stifled a laugh. “Be a dear, Lockwood, and help me put this on, will you please?” she asked in a mocking tone. How could he say no? It was a silver necklace. One he gifted for her.

“You’re not ashamed?”

“Of a good man?”

“Of me being in an agency below Fittes. It’s your domain, after all.”

“Anthony Lockwood, is this truly you? You’re- insecure? Your agency is the most prestigious agency in all of London, and you’re underestimating yourself? Besides, Fittes is . . . complicated. It’s bad business, and I would much rather trust the world in your hands.”

But the world in his hands were filled with her name. There was no corner that was safe from her essence. Every bits and pieces of the soil in his world contained his concern for her and her well-being.

“It looks lovely,” she mumbled, looking at the gift around her neck through the silver mirror with her name. “Thank you, Anthony.”

And again, he was pulled in another memory.

“I want to travel the world without everything we have now except for each other. We will move somewhere peaceful and quiet, and we’ll be sitting in front of a fire for comfort forever until we get sick of each other’s company. I want to go somewhere with you, anywhere but here.” She wanted him to run with her, but where? Every corner of the world was detectable to such an agency as Fittes’. She was the agency’s prodigy.

“You can’t throw all that away for me, Y/N. How could we live in hiding forever? What about George? Lucy?”

“I can’t accept his proposal. If I stay at Fittes, I’ll be stuck there forever.”

“Y/N,” it was an opportunity of a lifetime, but he couldn’t bear being the reason she’d throw away a life she’d been building since she was a child. Maybe it was wrong that she met him in the first place! Anthony was a mistake, or so he believed he was to her. She can’t just make a decision that will last a lifetime! What if she gets bored? What if she gets tired of him, and then regret it all? What if he couldn’t provide her everything she needed? She was used to a lavish life, and he lived in the same home he’s always lived in. “I can’t.”

Once he was back to reality, snapping out of his trance, Anthony noticed the envelope on the desk. He took it next and exhaled sharply, the butterflies locked in the cage of his chest and the wild heart of his swarmed around the organ as it pounded and raced into a fast rhythm that made the blood in his veins creep up to every parts of his body, making him feel more anxious than he should be.

The envelope opened, his eyes almost failing him before he could even read. But, he remembered his name, yet faltered once again when he caught sight of the handwriting he knew all too well.

“Anthony,

It must have come as a surprise for you that I still managed to pull something like this after years of my own possible demise—” No! He couldn’t read it. Anthony looked away, taking a sharp inhale to restrain the heartache he felt when he finally gathered the fact that Y/N knew about what was coming for her.

‘No, read.’ He had to be strong. It’s been years and there was no time for him to cower like a brutally tormented dog under a table. He shut his eyes, sparing himself a few more seconds before he turned his attention back to the paper.

“You’ve probably even solved the mystery by now. I knew you knew about the secrets of Fittes, and I was supposed to lure you in to keep track of you, but I couldn’t. Especially when I finally met you. You were nothing like they said. You weren’t arrogant or condescending. You were lovely, gentle, considerate, and smart. It was difficult to be anything but kind to you, Lockwood. The greatest mystery of my case is how I met someone like you.”

Lockwod shook his head. He is arrogant and condescending, but all of those traits of his would fade whenever he was around her. She calmed every nerve jilting him awake every single day. She’d always been the genius cure to the adrenaline rush that felt roo excessive he swore he could almost see the core of the Earth.

“I will wear your ring on my finger, forever until I rot and I will never take it off even if it’s the source you’ll find of me. I will forever march the world, waiting for you. I will be the fire on your hearth wherever you go, signalling that you’re always home, safe and sound as I defend you from anything who wants to destroy your peace. I will be the cold September air to accompany you during your dark cold days. I will be the sun that will peak through the clouds, watching as you smile and enjoy the warmth on your skin.”

A tear escaped his eye. One after the other, he sniffled and wuickly wiped them away to not leave a trace of his vulnerability to the only person that made him feel strong yet also weak in a way that he’d crumble down for her, and far better, kneel before her.

“As long as you walk the Earth for me, live your life for me, breathe the summer air for me. I will be there in every step of the way when you need me, and this mirror will always be a reminder of how I once saw you the night we met, how I’ll always see you — forever charming and gentle as you are, my intellectual bloody pain in the arse. Witness the moon in all its phases, feel the sun on your face, and touch the breeze that will creep up your bones. I will see to it that you will grow old with memories and the life you’re supposed to live.”

He took a shaky inhale and quickly covered his nose, resting the elbow of his hand that held the missive up for himself to read, on the desk.

“Find someone, Lockwood. Find someone who will make you happy, someone willing to spend their entire life with you with regards to your well-being, dreams, and feelings. You deserve someone who cares for you deeply. Put your arms around her waist delicately like you did mine, spin her around ever so gracefully like we once both have done. Dance in front of the hearth to your hearts’ desire. I will watch, and watch, and watch as I’ll sit and wait for you to come back to me when the time comes.

You, Anthony Lockwood, have become my reason to live, but now I must say goodbye. My farewell is dedicated to you and both Lucy and George. You have been a great family. My only treasure that I’m willing to die for.

It is not your fault though. It never was.

You have my ceaseless affections, Anthony. Always.

Yours,

Y/N L/N.”

A sound emitted from his lips as the letter ended that he felt like he needed to read more. Come on, there has to be more! This couldn’t be it! This couldn’t be the end of her moment where he felt like she was alive again! Just as she was starting to feel more real and closer, that’s when the letters had to end!

He put the letter down and ran his fingers through his hair, letting them settle on his dark locks and pulling them to create a pressure that will ease the starting headache. Lockwood couldn’t keep himself together anymore.

No matter how hard he tried.

The thoughts of her gone have always created such a tarnish on the crimsons of his heart. How could she just leave like that and never return? How could she leave him to his feelings? How could she claim he had her ceaseless affections if she left to too early?

Anthony Lockwood cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried once more.

She was gone forever, and the letters in ink on the parchment were the ghosts of the past. He still couldn’t accept it until now. No, Anthony will never find anyone like her. He’d already loved her completely and utterly that his heart has given out all the ardour it had, only for her. The ring she wore six feet under was the solid silver proof of his devotion.

But now, the words he uttered to her the night he held her in his arms could only be heard by the fading wind outside the windows of the library.

Y/N L/N was a bright ember that entered his life and warmed his heart during the cold February air at the Fittes ball. She was fierce and hot, brazen and red.

And oh, how she burned.

She was his dream.

His walking desire.

His waking moment.

His other half.

And what was once such a bright dancing little fiend was now the flame in the library hearth, keeping him steady as he lost himself to the messy art of creating rivers with his tears.

Anthony Lockwood had lost his person.

And he will never be able to bring her back again. The girl who stayed young forever as she wished for him to grow old without her.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Present For You | Overlord

“Well there’s some holidays the Supreme Beings celebrate where we give each other presents. So, I got you a present!”

Aura

“(Y/n)-sama!! Thank you so much! I can’t wait to put it to use!”

You gave her an egg that would one day birth into an insanely overpowered version of your favorite mythical creature

She’s so excited to have received a gift from you

A Supreme one!

She’s going to excitedly command them around whenever she gets the chance

She’s so touched you thought of what creature would be the perfect addition to her collection

It's so powerful just like you

She’s so honored!!

Whenever she can’t find you she’ll cuddle up next to it and think of you

“Oh (Y/n)-sama really is the best. I’m never letting them down.”

Mare

“W-what i-is it? Th-this is-!Th-thank you so much (Y/n)-sama I’ll treasure it always.”

You gave him a magical item that would change the clothes of the opposite gender

Specifically embarrassing changes

Granted there were some advantages that would heighten their hysteria and screw-up their movements but that wasn’t the main point

Whether you watched the anime or you and Ainz were telepathically giggling about it you figured you might as well

He loveloveloves it so much 

He can’t wait to use it right away and if he’s feeling pumped up enough they’ll ask to spar with one of the floor guardians just so he can try it out

He enjoys this with Aura, as he does with her gift 

But he’s still so grateful

“T-thank y-you, (Y/n)-sama! I’ll tell you all about my results!” 

Cocyutus

“(Y/n)-sama! I’m beyond honored!”

You got him a double sword that spins at the click of a button 

You figured any other magical item would be a stab at his pride as a warrior so you cot this for him

He is practicing with it all the time

Almost always switching it out with his staff

And he happily puffs when anyone ever asks about his latest weapon

“It was a gift of the great (Y/n)-sama! It will be an honor to die by this blade!”

Demiurge

“(Y/n)-sama you continue to amaze me with your power and wisdom! Thank you!”

You gifted him an item you dubbed the War Eye

A magical Eyeglass that allows you to measure the importance and power on a battlefront 

You implemented a time limit as Ainz suggested so it wasn’t something he could use all the time 

But nonetheless he was grateful that you too recognized him as the ultimate strategist 

He happily brags about your gift to the other floor guardians

Actively he uses it to succeed if the time limit allows

He’ll try not to show how much his tail is wagging when he recalls how you gave it to him

“Yes! Even (Y/n)-sama has prepared for our goals and has given me the tools to maintain victory!”

Shaltear Bloodfallen

“Ah~! A gift? For me, (Y/n)-sama!?”

You got her a magical item that can store blood and either be fed on or used as a weapon

It resembles a heart on a chain 

she’s incredibly flattered

She’s definitely teasing Albedo about it

Happily showing off your gift to her as a sign that you care for her most

“It’s like they gave me their heart already! No need to be so jealous, Albedo!”

Sebas

“For me but (Y/n)-sama I’m nothing but your servant? If it would please you most…then I will accept it.”

You really have to fight him on this one he’s just so subservient he outright doesn’t believe he deserves such a thing

But when he does finally take it you gave him a magically imbued wrist watch

With the power to replay the next five hours

He’s so honored that you even thought of him 

He’s so happy he can casually wear it with his typical attire

And if you watch hard enough he’s rubbing it with a ghost of a smile on his face

“I will forever be grateful for this gift, (Y/n)-sama.”

Albedo

“Ahh~(Y/N)-sama! You thought of me! I can hardly contain myself!” 

You probably got her a locket that can manifest a spear

Even without the spear part she’s reeling with ecstasy at the gift

You probably had a harder time finding a gift for her

Considering she already makes body pillows, stuffies,

as well as sniffing obsessively at both you and Ainz’ sheets 

So your happy she’s so excited for it

Nonetheless she’s wearing it all the time

Palming it with a blush on her face while she carries out her missions

“Oh Darling (Y/n)-sama is so kind! I devote my all to (Y/n) and Ainz-sama!”

[the-slasher-files]

*Incoherent noises* can I have cuddling hcs with Ghost please? :3

[CALL OF DUTY]

ONLY FOR YOU

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY — CUDDLING

Yay! Thank you for the request! I have the cod brain rot bad and it's all I want to write so thank you... Hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

It takes a long time before Simon can relax around you, it's not that he's uncomfortable, no, it's a thing about protection and protecting his heart above all else. This man has been kicked down, chewed out and gutted countless times by people that claimed to have his back so do not be surprised that it takes Simon six months before he leans back into you and relaxes his stiff shoulders.

Even if it's cuddling, he is always a soldier first, brown keen eyes observing his and your surroundings, making a mental note of the doors and windows. Forever, Simon will shield you with his massive, hard frame. Your life will always be his precious treasure to protect, even if you never notice it.

He's a consuming force in all ways. Loving to completely cover you with his body, hiding you away from any hurt the world may cause. Large, war-torn hands seem to be always warm in cradling your frame into his, usually one on your lower back and one placed against your head or neck.

Simon's hold is strong and he doesn't move so you better be comfortable wherever you've cuddled, especially if he falls asleep. Shifting to the other side of the bed doesn't happen with Simon's significant other, no way. His grip almost seems to grow stronger as he dreams, holding you like the lifeline, which is his rifle.

Now, there will be nights that he won't come up to bed or if he does, he doesn't want to be touched, looked at, or even seen as a human. He wants to haunt in the shadows he makes home, observing you almost like a wolf to a rabbit. Simon's hungry for what he does not know, for that intimacy that makes him tense, for what he cannot provide. Sometimes, being a human is all too much to bear, so he would rather watch you be one.

It's a rare sight to see or feel the mask off, it becomes almost jarring to know Simon has skin under the skull painted balaclava. You do not comment or stare (as hard as that is) when it's off because you want him to do it more. This is when you are bluntly aware Simon feels safe and you can not help but smile into his chest as he nuzzles his face into your hair still needed to feel something against his rough skin.

[han11dh]

Hello id like to humbly request a scenario with Ghost where y/n previously went MIA, and is assumed dead. Ghost is sent on a hostage rescue mission and when he gets there finds out not only is she alive, but she’s one of the hostages he’s there to rescue 🩷

hii thank you so much for requesting, you are my first request and i will treasure this forever! <3

i also hope this will meet your expectations, im sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes.

(the reader is 141 too)

~shadows of redemption~

The night was dark and filled with tension as Simon "Ghost" Riley anxiously waited for any news about the missing 141 operative, Y/N. The team had been on a high-risk mission in an undisclosed location, and when the chaos settled, Y/N was nowhere to be found. The uncertainty gnawed at Ghost's heart, fueling his determination to find them.

Days turned into weeks, and Ghost tirelessly scoured every lead and followed every whisper in the shadows. He refused to accept the possibility that Y/N might not make it back alive. Their bond ran deep, forged through countless battles and shared experiences. Ghost would not let his comrade and friend be lost to the shadows.

Finally, a trail emerged—a whispered rumor of a secret organization involved in the disappearance of Y/N. It led Ghost to a remote facility hidden deep within a dense forest. With a silent determination, he infiltrated the compound, relying on his stealth and training to stay one step ahead of his enemies.

Inside the facility, Ghost's worst fears were realized as he discovered Y/N held captive, their body battered and broken from relentless torture. Anguish filled his eyes as he witnessed the physical toll that had been inflicted upon them. Ghost's hands clenched into fists, his anger simmering beneath a facade of icy composure.

Carefully, Ghost planned his next move, taking into account the guards, surveillance systems, and the dire state of Y/N’s condition. Every second felt like an eternity as he devised a strategy to rescue them. He knew he had to be patient, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

As nightfall draped the compound in darkness, Ghost moved swiftly and silently, disabling guards one by one. He weaved through corridors, bypassing security systems with practiced ease. The gravity of the situation pushed him forward, fueling his determination to reach Y/N before it was too late.

Finally, Ghost reached the room where Y/N was held captive. Their body lay crumpled on the floor, barely clinging to consciousness. Ghost's heart clenched at the sight, his instincts overriding any fear or doubt. He swiftly knelt beside them, cradling their fragile form in his arms.

"Y/N," Ghost whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and worry. "I've got you. Hang on, we're getting out of here."

With delicate care, Ghost carried Y/N through the corridors, evading remaining guards as he made his way to the extraction point. The journey was fraught with danger, but Ghost's determination to keep them safe never wavered.

Finally, the duo emerged from the compound, breathless and battered, but alive. A sense of victory mingled with the palpable relief that flooded Ghost's being. The mission was far from over, but he had accomplished the first step—saving Y/N from the clutches of their tormentors.

In the days that followed, Ghost dedicated himself to nursing Y/N back to health, tending to their injuries with a gentle touch. He watched over them, providing unwavering support and comfort, even as he dealt with his own turmoil and guilt. Their connection grew stronger as they navigated the long road to recovery together.

Though Y/N faced physical and emotional scars, Ghost remained a constant presence by their side, offering solace and understanding. As time passed, their bond deepened, transcending the boundaries of friendship and camaraderie.

Through shared laughter, whispered conversations, and stolen moments of tenderness, Ghost and Y/N found solace in each other. Their hearts intertwined, giving them strength to overcome the darkness that had consumed their lives.

[toomanytookas]

Hi there! I saw you're a fellow Pedro Scout, and I thought I'd share a friendship bracelet with you.

If you don't mind me asking, what's your fandom origin story?

Thank you so much for this wonderful bracelet, fellow scout Maggie! I will treasure it forever and it’s very nice to meet you.

I’ve attempted (rather shoddily) to make you a little pixel art one inspired by your beautiful masterlist colour scheme! PS for the Pedro Scouts! 💕

As for my fandom origin story, I kind of have two answers! The first is that my gateway character was Din Djarin. The TikTok algorithm had been feeding me Mando content because it was adjacent to another fandom I was in, someone in the comments mentioned a couple of fics they were reading, and I got hooked as a lurker reader in the PPCU from there as I quickly started realising that authors I was enjoying often wrote for multiple Pedro characters.

Particularly in the context of my becoming a scout, I think another way of thinking about an origin story would be to consider how I became more active participant. I credit that wholeheartedly to @prolix-yuy , @oonajaeadira , @chronically-ghosted , and @burntheedges , whose responses to my longer comments early-ish in my time as a reader in this fandom made me start to believe I wasn’t being overly self centred for wanting to try and convey what I particularly loved about a fic back to its author at a more granular level.

I’m a pretty socially anxious person and in past fandoms have been a bit more shy interacting with authors but I’m getting better at being confident about it (additional thanks very much owed to @schnarfer , @undercoverpena , and @secretelephanttattoo ) and I couldn’t be more grateful for that early gentleness and interaction and I’ve been trying to pay it forward since.

This is probably way too detailed and rambling a response for the purpose of this bracelet exchange, but I think it’s also reflective of what I’m like in my fandom engagement so maybe it’s very apt. 😂

Thank you so much for picking me to reach out to and for your patience while I thought about my response. I’d love to hear your origin story, too, and hope we can keep chatting! 🥰

[bibleversegarden]

From the beginning, mankind was created in the image of God, according to His likeness. It is evident, God's glorious nature was on full display in man; until mankind chose to disobey and fell short of the glory of God. 

"And they heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden." (Genesis 3:8)

All thanks and praise to the LORD God Almighty, who has redeemed us through the precious blood of Jesus Christ, out of every tribe and tongue and people. The sacrifice of animals for sins was a shadow of Christ's work on the cross. The LORD has called and filled His church with the Holy Ghost, empowering us to bear much fruit and glorify His name.

God's people are His holy dwelling place, His peculiar treasure. He is near to those who call upon Him in truth; to those whose hearts are upright before Him; He makes His presence known to those who seek His face and walk humbly in His ways. He takes away the stony heart and gives us a heart of flesh, to obey His voice and do that which is pleasing in His sight.

In His holy temple, there is hope, joy unspeakable and full of glory, peace like a river, grace, and every good and perfect gift. To Him alone, belongs all glory, honor, praise and worship, perpetually.

"Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's." (1 Corinthians 6:19-20; See also Chapter 3, and John 2:19-22)

"But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth; for the Father is seeking such to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and in truth." (John 4:23-24)

"Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the the household of God, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are being built together for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit."(Ephesians 2:19-22)

"Coming to Him as to a living stone, rejected indeed by men, but chosen by God and precious, you also, as living stones are being built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ." (1 Peter 2:4-5)

"But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light." (1 Peter 2:9)

In the days of Solomon, when the construction of the temple, he determined to build for God, was completed, and the ark brought into the inner sanctuary of the temple, to the Most Holy Place: "It came to pass, when the trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the LORD, and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised the LORD saying: "For He is good, for His mercy endures forever," that the house, the house of the LORD, was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not continue ministering because of the cloud; for the glory of the LORD filled the house of God." 

Similarly, when Solomon had finished praying at the temple dedication, fire came down from heaven and consumed the burnt offering and the sacrifices; and the glory of the LORD filled the temple. 

(See 2 Chronicles Chapter 5 and 2 Chronicles Chapter 7)

God had said to Solomon: "Concerning this temple which you are building, if you walk in My statutes, execute My judgments, keep all My commandments, and walk in them, then I will perform My word with you, which I spoke to your father David. And I will dwell among the children of Israel, and will not forsake My people Israel." (1 Kings 6:12-13 )

For the building of the tabernacle, in the days of Moses, God called and filled Bezalel with the Spirit of God, in wisdom and understanding, in knowledge and all manner of artistic workmanship and ability to teach; in him and Aholiab and gifted artisans, to do all manner of work for the service of the sanctuary, in the building of the tabernacle, according to the pattern God gave to Moses. At its completion, with all things set in place, as God commanded Moses, the cloud covered the tabernacle of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. 

(See Exodus Chapters 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40) 

Christ in us, the hope of glory. Fill us LORD with Your glory! Amen.

- A Walk In The Garden Devotions

[crocswithoutsocks]

He's here!!! The pacer!!!!!! I blasted him with a UV lamp and he shone with the light of 17 spooky ghosts I love him so much thank you @bitethetablet (I hope you don't mind the tag!) for the awesome keychain I will take him to so many places and treasure him forever

the UV dungeon

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I’m sorry if some of my comments on your fics were needlessly long and/or veritably empty of anything literate, but I just thought I’d pop over to say that I finished catching up on all your A03 fics and I enjoyed them so much, and I’m sad not to have any lined up anymore.

You write so well and I had such a good time going through your stories. Thank you for sharing them! I always know I’m going to enjoy it when I see that it’s one of your works. ☺️

(On a different note, though, didn’t you have a fic of a new Link with a ghost version of BotW Link following him around or something? I didn’t see any of it on A03 and now I’m uncertain. 😅)

Lovely, your comments were making me smile all night ❤️ don’t apologize for them!! I take forever to reply to comments on AO3 but that doesn’t mean I don’t treasure them dearly ❤️

Thank you!!! 😭❤️

I do have writing about that! It’s not on AO3 (a lot of my writing isn’t 😅 still working on that) as it isn’t an actual story so much as scenes. It was originally inspired by an anonymous ask who suggested the idea and I built on it from there. But you can find everything related to it with the Wild Spirit tag, I’ll add it to this post so you can just click it on my blog and go check it out :)

[fabien-euskadi]

8. 25. 50. (Your current favorite quote.)

Blessed night! ✨

8.What’s your favorite band/artist?

Well, that is an incredibly complicated answer, since it is absolutely impossible for me to chose just one.

These are some of my favourite bands and solo artists (the order is absolutely aleatory):

Nightwish, Dream Theater, Skeletoon, Black Sabbath, Within Temptation, Avantasia, Liquid Tension Experiment, Elend, Savatage, X-Japan, Temperance, Manowar, Virgin Steele, Danger Danger, Lord of the Lost, Ghost, HIM, VV, Rhapsody of Fire, Luca Turilli’s Rhapsody, Angra, Shaman, Tierramystica, Xandria, Michael Kiske, Glenn Hughes, The 69 Eyes, Luca Turilli, Joe Satriani, Soulspell, Daemonarch, Rotting Christ, Beast in Black, Battle Beast, ELO, Dead Can Dance, Meat Loaf, The Dark Side of the Moon, Femme Fatale, Aina, Majestic, Halestorm, Mark Free, Marcie Free, Unlucky Morpheus, Megadeth, Moonspell, Mago de Oz, Magic Dance, The Sisters of Mercy, The Mission, Amaranthe, Apocalyptica, Van Canto, Therion, The Night Flight Orchestra, Ayreon… and I could go on forever, adding more and more bands and solo artists. And I didn’t even mention that I love classic music.

25.What’s your favorite decade?

Despite having academic degrees in History and Heritage, I am not strictly focused on the past. I am not fascinated by the idea that the best years - Humanity's and mine - live somewhere in the past. There is something deeply attractive, almost sensual, about nostalgia, but I am perfectly aware that longing for the past is also a powerful - and devastatingly sweet - poison. Maybe, my romantic side came with one of the most amazing traits of the XIX Century: a blind (almost religious) faith in the future and the progress. That’s why I believe my favourite decade is somewhere in the future. I only hope it’s not a decade after I am no longer alive… albeit I suspect that may be the case.

50. Your current favorite quote.

That is also a difficult choice, but I a going to opt for the paragraph that ends the XVI Chaper of Saint-Exupery’s “Night Flight” (I have just finished reading it):

« "Too beautiful," he thought. Amid the far-flung treasure of the stars he roved, in a world where no life was, no faintest breath of life, save his and his companion's. Like plunderers of fabled cities they seemed, immured in treasure-vaults whence there is no escape. Amongst these frozen jewels they were wandering, rich beyond all dreams, but doomed.»

There is also a sentence that I found in one of my WIPs – this one is called “The Death of Miguel Guerreiro Murta”:

«Everything I see only exists inside myself.»

There is also a verse from the song I amm listening to in this very moment - Dream Theater's "A View From the Top of the World" (by the gods, this song is a masterpiece):

«The impossible is never out of reach»

(thank you so much for the asks 🤍 – it’s always a wonderful pleasure talking to you; and sorry for the delay in the reply, but this has been a slightly complicated day)

[kedsandtubesocks]

WE'RE STARTING SPOOKY SEASON EARLIER IM SOOOOOO EXCITED OMG

okay okay i wanna hear your opinion on pedro boys and what monsters they would be !!!!

LETS START SPOOKY SUMMER OFF RIGHT AND IM SO GLAD ITS WITH YOU BB thank you for sending this amazing ask in 🥺🎃 ✨

Okay…this is something I know we’ve talked about many times in our deep discussions but now that I think about the other boys I’m like “…oh shit” so here we GO LOL

Javi P: a type of were-creature, I love the idea of Javi having the ties to a Texas and Latino based monster and as someone who’s great tia swore she saw the chupacabra and then knowing there’s a monster/beast I’ve heard legend about living in the hill country, theres something familiar and close knit tradition about were-creatures based in local and cultural urban legends that fits Javi’s vibes about being so connected to his home

Pero T: yes he is a peak werewolf but I will say this until I write the fic but he is a lake monster, creature from the black lagoon style, he lurks likes his isolation and is aware to his surroundings. He would do perfect as a lake monster simply surviving as a grumpy hiding monster under the waves

Marcus Pike: DRAGON!!! Grand beautiful majestic creatures that hoard precious things? Marcus is all about the arts and seeing the beauty in everything, those vibes just make me think of him as this beautiful grand dragon that hoards art until he finds you his most precious treasure

Dave York: something demonic, he always reminds me of the Lucifer figure - this perfect soldier who followed orders until he questioned his existence and is now disillusioned and corrupt living on his own terms now

Frankie: my sweet werewolf boy, loyal big and forever protective and will bare his fangs whenever he feels threatens and has a bit of a temper, also can you imagine how COZY HE WOULD BE??

Din: ghost, he’s a ghost that’s simply living in this strange beskar armor but his spirit is so strong and righteous that it stays alive and haunts his armor. But he is tender and speaks with the softest whispers in the wind, like a echo you wonder if you even heard in the first place

Joel: a ghost like Din but a much scarier version, like a spirit of vengeance that is violent and fierce, powerful in its rage but a known protector that watches over anyone who walks home alone at night, he sits in the trees with eyes that are so dark they blend with the night

Jack: Vampire, suave a bit extravagant and luxurious and I only am doing this cause I want him to make all the stupid vampire puns and even has fake vampire plastic teeth he playfully uses from time to time, also can you imagine him slick gelled hair back super classic Dracula style?? 😮‍💨

Dieter: shapeshifter, he’s a man of many faces and many roles that you wonder if he even knows what his true self looks like anymore, goes into how he’s an actor and I think there’s so many layers to dieter that he keeps up to make sure no one truly knows him

Ezra: eldritch space creature, has many eyes speaks in many voices that seem out of this realm but he is kind and moves very gently. He is wise beyond his years and is interested in all things human, but like any eldritch creature it can be tricky and turn on a whim when need be

Javi G: Mothman!! Super sweet and chattery and is kind of an odd ball but simply wants to be left alone in the woods but remains curious about the world around him, holds a certain charm to him but is still a dangerous creature underneath it all

Wow I ramble away with these I’m SORRY