#verse three : main : i’m back where i belong.

[oc-challenges]

WELCOME TO THE OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE!

Calling all the monsters, it's time for the OC 2023 Halloween Challenge! This challenge has been hauntin' you for five years, and we're wantin' you to participate!

If you're new here, here's what you need to know: This is an event that takes place over the 31 days of October and presents oc creators with Halloween-themed challenges to get the creative juices dancing. It is open to creations for both fanfiction and original ocs, and if you want to participate you don't have to every one or even in order. It is brought to you by @purpleyearning / @aliverse, @elmunson, and includes suggestions by members of our discord! (special thanks to @endless-hoppington for helping with some descs)

Rules

DO NOT copy others edits.

If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.

If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag ohc2023.

Feel free to ask questions, I promise I’m more treat than trick.

Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!

Have fun!

RANDOM/THEMELESS (1st–5th) Some of the challenges that don't coincide with each other.

Day One: Life In Plastic

It's fantastic! Is your OC more of a Barbie or a Bratz? Maybe they go to Monster High, or they're an American Girl Doll with an inspiring story? Perhaps you want to make a Funko version of your OC? To put it simply, this day is about dolls as an ode to the best movie of 2023; Barbie.

Day Two: Lights, Camera, Action!

For day two, we're combining oc as canon, oc as celebrity, and oc's social media into one day where you get to choose which of those challenges you would like to do... maybe even all of them!

Day Three: Born In The Wrong Century

Movies depend on a lot of things, but time and place helps create the ominous feel for it. Like Crimson Peak that belongs to the revival gothic period of 1880s or Jason Voorhees waking up on a spaceship in the year of 2455, give your character(s) a new decade to explore and even monsters to face.

Day Four: Twisted

From reality episodes where two people experience switching roles with one another to an alternative reality where their roles are different from their home's universe, make your character experience life through a whole new perspective by making your hero the villain or your villain the hero.

Day Five: Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches... Oh My!

From Godzilla to Dracula to The Mummy, the monster-verse is rich with lore. Today we focus on those monsters that never go out of style, after all they’re called classics for a reason. Is your oc Frankenstein or his monster?

OH, YOU WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? CAN I BE THE HELPLESS VICTIM? (6th–12th) Due to its popularity last year, we're bringing back the horror character tropes week.

Day Six: The Harmless Antagonist

Ah, a classic in more than just horror; the mean gorgeous holier-than-thou character; more specifics of this are often The Jock, The Cheerleader, The “Slut”, The Bitch, The Rich Kid, etc. While they may annoy the main character or make their everyday life difficult with academic rivalry or teasing, they’re really nothing compared to the new enemy; the thing or person killing everyone. Which one of your ocs is getting brutally knocked down a peg… or the stairs?

Day Seven: The Comedic Relief

Honestly, they make even the scariest movies bearable. They're almost never the main character but almost always the most liked. They say laughter is medicine for the soul, so which of your ocs soothes the characters and the situation with a joke made at the worst of times?

Day Eight: The Denier/Non-Believer/Skeptic

It doesn’t matter the subgenre, there’s always one. They don’t believe a killers out to get them or their friends despite the fast growing pile of bodies, they claim there’s a natural explanation for the supernatural event terrorizing everyone, they just refuse to get with the program. This often combines with the cop or older-than-everyone-else character. Which one of your ocs will get killed by their stubborness before their loyalty?

Day Nine: The Harbinger

We hear about omens of death in every kind of mythology. Irish folklore warns you of hearing the wailing woman and German myth tells you to never find your doppelganger. Even Western Society in America will drift from their path if they see a black cat on the way. So which of your ocs stands outside of the haunted house and tells the redheaded twins “you’re going to die in there”?

Day Ten: The Accomplice

You never saw it coming, but you should’ve. There’s not just one killer you have to worry about, there’s two. This is the person whose been helping the killer since the very beginning, pretending to be your friend the entire time until the plot reached its rising action. You’re heart broken and the very ground shakes under your feet, the good person you once thought you knew is gone… or worse, had never truly existed. Which of your ocs is not only willing to help a friend hide the body, but kill it too?

Day Eleven: The Killer

They’re haunted and bloodthirsty, compelling in a dangerous way. Everyone has a monster within but due to some tragic backstory of abuse, hate, or ridicule, these people – or things– let the monster win. Whether they done a mask or turn your dreams into sentient nightmares, they’re the main reason why anybody shows up to movie night. Which one of your ocs looks into the reflection of the knife in their hand, and pictures themselves chopping up human bodies instead of vegetables?

Day Twelve: The Final Girl

It’s all come down to this, the last stand. There’s two people left, or at least two important people left; the killer and the final girl. She’s fought tooth and nail, and grief has made way for rage. At first she was just another potential victim, now she’s in the killers way and she won’t go down easy. In the beginning she just wanted to survive, but like Laurie Strode now she wants revenge. Which oc becomes the monsters monster?

WRONG PLACE, WRONG TIME We're exploring classic horror locations. Throw your ocs into a horror story that take place in these locations, or make up your own story.

Day Thirteen: Have Killer Fun At Summer Camp! (Location: Summer Camp)

It's Friday The Thirteenth... literally. For today, the location is a summer camp like the one Jason Voorhees terrorizes. Counselor, killer, or camper? Whatever role your oc plays, they certainly didn't read this in the brochure.

Day Fourteen: Vacation Nightmares (Location: Hotel/Island/AirBnB, etc.)

An island that magically speeds up your aging, a hotel with corridors that lead to nowhere, a psychotic airbnb host; Today is about horror in locations that are supposed to be a break from the horror of everyday life, but instead introduces you to whole new horrors.

Day Fifteen: Home Is Where The Haunt Is (Location: House or Apartment)

A home can be a place to make memories and some memories leave a scar. Focus on your characters when a place they call home is threatened.

Day Sixteen: She Doesn't Like It In The Barn (Location: Farm/Ranch)

Samara Morgan was forced to stay in the barn's hayloft to keep her burning images out of her adoptive parents minds. Framer Graham Hess had to defend his home and family from aliens that threatened to kill his son. Pearl craved to be a movie star and experienced a psychotic break where she killed those who denied her her dream. What deadly passages does the farm bestow to your characters?

Day Seventeen: Death is a Mystery and Burial is a Secret (Location: Cemetery or Tomb)

Cemeteries and tombs are the places we put our loved ones to rest, but in horror movies we find that final resting places are not so restful after all. Whether it’s ghosts, zombies, psychotic gravekeepers, or grave robbers ensuring no witnesses; how do your ocs go from mourning to trying to survive until morning?

Day Eighteen: What's The Opposite Of Miracles? (Location: Places of Worship)

Places of worship are supposed to be places of good, where people go for guidance and safety, places full of good beings and devoid of sin. But what if the bad beings sneak in or the sinless place is just a hiding place for those full of sin?

Day Nineteen: This Won't Hurt A Bit (Location: Hospital and/or Asylum)

In season two of American Horror Story, we were welcomed to Briarcliff, an asylum that became ‘home’ to the misunderstood and the criminally insane. Much like other hospitals of the past, many attempts of healing were there to disguise the evil hiding in plain sight. How does your character deal when the place that was supposed to heal them becomes the place that harms them?

Day Twenty: The Trees Have Eyes (Location: The Woods/Forest)

Shadows of the trees cast illusions, the cracking of sticks cause hairs on the back of your neck stand. The wind howls which sounds of a voice, and the birds no longer sing. The woods are creepy, desolate, and you find yourself lost in the sea of their trunks. What happens when your ocs are stuck in the woods?

RANDOM OUTLIER

Day Twenty-One: I Want To Play A Game

Some of the most recent hits in horror history have been not movies, books, or shows, but video games. From Dead By Daylight to Until Dawn, horror fans have been able to experience immersion at a whole new level by trying to make all the right choices as a character. Now, it's time to put your oc into a horror game AU. Will they live, or will they die? Only their stats and choices will tell.

STRANGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED (22nd–27th) Character tropes are fun and all, but for the next six days we're focusing on genre tropes.

Day Twenty-Two: Solitude Causes More Wounds Than It Was Meant To Heal (Trope: Isolation)

Fear is increased when one is alone by themselves, or cut off from civilization like an reclusive island. Focus on your characters in the horror of isolation; are they forced to recognize who they truly are on the inside? Do they practice the law of nature or nurture? Do they keep their morals or own laws?

Day Twenty-Three: The Apocalypse Is The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me (Trope: Apocalyptic)

Just as everything must begin, it also must end. This, unfortunately, includes humanity. What will happen when the world as your oc knows it ends, when that world goes from millions of people to tens or perhaps even one? Will they be forced to adapt, doomed to die, or perhaps even thrive?

Day Twenty-Four: You've Killed Me Before (Trope: Time Loop)

The best thing about the sun setting is that it will come up again in the morning, and a new day will begin. But what if the sun comes up and an old day begins? Whether your oc must solve their own murder, solve somebody else’s murder, or face difficult truths about those around them, it’s time to put them into a time loop.

Day Twenty-Five: Better You Die Than I (Trope: Doppleganger)

In real life, seeing your “doppleganger” is said to be an omen of misfortune or good luck. In horror movies, dopplegangers usually take a more direct approach in ruining the lives of their lookalike. Whether they’re an omen of bad things to come or trying to steal ones life, give your oc a doppleganger and explore the horrors of a stranger that shares your face.

Day Twenty-Six: No Wonder Everyone Keeps Invading You (Trope: Extraterrestrial)

Whether your oc was a believer before or not, life from another planet has arrived to Earth on this day. These so-called aliens come in all shapes, sizes, and colors; They can even come in a human disguise, as a deadly plant, as a machine, or even as little green men. No matter where they came from or what they look like, humanity is not ready for them. Whether we try to hurt them or they try to hurt us, how does your oc deal with extraterrestrial life on Earth and the problems this arrival presents?

Day Twenty-Seven: All Politics Is A Personality Cult Now (Trope: Cult)

What simply starts as a simple dinner meal, a visit to a secluded area where people celebrate, or deciding to reunite with the estranged side of your family, can easily be your steps toward a cult. Have your characters fight to stay alive against those who have welcomed them with sinister intent.

COSTUMES TELL A STORY

Day Twenty-Eight: Let's Be Weird Together

We all know of an iconic squad that so many people are just dying to be a part of. Well, it’s your ocs and their friends chance! Day 28 is group costumes!

Day Twenty-Nine: That Could Be Us

Love isn’t in the air but maybe it’s in the fabric of costumes! It’s time for couples costumes!

Day Thirty: I Can Be Anybody I Wanna Be

If your oc could be anybody, who would they wanna be? Well, for one night only, they can be! It's time for your oc to dress up!

TRICK OR TREAT!

Day Thirty-One: I'm Just Here For The Boos

Halloween is a time for tricks and treats, for ghost to walk among the living and us to disguise ourselves. But it can be killer, and the transference of evil can be achieved. Give your shape to another, gift them and you shall receive in turn. Ocpotluck awaits.

[olympain]

A strange, strange morning at the Taskmaster NZ house Stewart Sowman-Lund gains access to the north Auckland mansion where the TVNZ comedy gameshow is filmed and uncovers the secrets the cameras don’t see.

After four years, the Taskmaster house is a cast member in its own right. The mysterious and ever-evolving setting for the TVNZ comedy show is ostensibly just a house north of Auckland. But for fans of Taskmaster, it’s a memorial to the show itself. Hey look, there are the rafters that David Correos climbed into, in what was probably a health and safety breach. There’s the bar where Leigh Hart attempted to use a leaf blower to make a cocktail. And I think that’s where Urzila Carlson drank a lot of scotch while playing hopscotch?

Returning tonight, season four of Taskmaster NZ sees five new famous faces vying to win a gold bust of Jeremy Wells’ head: Dai Henwood, Mel Bracewell, Ray O’Leary, Karen O’Leary and Sieni Leo’o Olo (aka Bubbah). You’d probably expect that after three seasons, the incoming cast of comedians would be well-versed on how Taskmaster works. But as I found out on a visit to the Taskmaster set back in March, that might not be the case.

It’s a few weeks after Cyclone Gabrielle when I pull up outside the Taskmaster house and am greeted by Paul Williams. In the world of the show, Williams is the Taskmaster’s assistant, a meek and slightly awkward character whose entire purpose is to do whatever it is the Taskmaster, Jeremy Wells, demands. Largely, that means guiding the contestants through the absurd challenges they find written in wax-sealed envelopes. “They all really like me,” Williams says sarcastically of his relationship with the contestants. “I don’t annoy them at all.” (Karen O’Leary later describes Williams to me as “a bit of a dick”, though reluctantly admits that he could be helpful during some tasks.).

In real life, Williams doesn’t seem that far removed from the character he plays on the show, leading me to question whether he’s still in character while showing me around the Taskmaster house. We start our tour upstairs in the study, this season made over with dark green paint and jungle-like vines hanging from the rafters. Behind the desk hangs a Rene Magritte-esque painting of Jeremy Wells with a long bird’s beak. 

The bookshelves have also been packed with an assortment of loosely-themed objects, including a cheetah, a pair of binoculars and a globe. Books about travel and exploration are stacked up too. To the side of the study, just out of shot from the cameras, Williams points out a curtain that conceals an assortment of extra props, like a spare print of the Wells bird painting made “in case the comedians damage the one on the wall”. Given this is Taskmaster, you really do need to prepare for everything.

The study leads through to a small bedroom that Williams, with the awkwardness of a teenage boy apologising for not cleaning up, admits is his. Occasionally he sleeps over in the Taskmaster house so as to avoid an early morning commute to set. Piled up in a drawer next to the bed are artefacts from previous Taskmaster seasons that should really be collected and donated to some sort of Taskmaster museum. The pile includes draft lyrics from a Guy Montgomery musical task in season two and a piece of paper with some frantic scrawling that could only belong to David Correos.

Downstairs, we stop at a washing machine. I’m not sure it’s meant to be part of the tour until Williams grabs out a solitary pair of sodden black socks, which he proceeds to carry around with him until remembering they need to dry.

We head out towards the dock, a small wharf that overlooks a swampy green pond, and the setting for a number of water-based tasks. It’s a surprising distance from the main house and along the way, Williams points out several iconic locations from the show. There’s a life-sized lion sculpture, replacing the cow featured in previous seasons (“the cow’s on loan, I think,” says Williams). We pop into the shed and see the fish poster made internationally famous by Rose Matafeo on Taskmaster UK stuck to the inside of the door. There’s the bathtub used for the infuriating final task of season three: “Relocate the water in this bath to that bath”. We pass through the “enchanted forest” and I’m uncomfortably reminded of Paul Ego’s sex witch. 

All the while, Williams is carrying his all-important iPad (and the socks) which reminds me of a question I’ve always had for the Taskmaster assistant, one that has perplexed Reddit for years. “Can you tell me once and for all if the iPad actually controls anything, or if it’s just a prop?” I ask Williams, who looks at me coyly: “I cannot disclose the secrets of the iPad.”

Later, after Williams has been called back for some filming, I’m standing in a gazebo on the back lawn about to watch a team task involving Dai Henwood, Karen O’Leary and Bubbah. They’ve been instructed to weave their way, blindfolded, through a maze. I’m told the task should only take about 10 minutes, but nearly an hour later we’re still standing there watching the trio of comics flounder as they try to complete it. There’s talk of breaking early for lunch, but the contestants are determined to finish the task no matter how long it takes. A crew member tells me that quite often the team tasks don’t make it to air, but this one definitely will. Why? Because “the other team [Mel Bracewell and Ray O’Leary] did it on their first go”. 

It’s part of the joy of Taskmaster that being really bad at a task is often as impressive as being really good at it. For Wells as Taskmaster, that means his job is often determining whether to give points to the best contestant – or the funniest. Bubbah tells me she’d never even heard of the show before being cast, let alone how it works, and that means her performance in the season hasn’t been tampered by any thought of actually winning points. “It was like halfway in when Paul was like ‘what do you think the Taskmaster’s gonna say’? I was like ‘Who the fuck is the Taskmaster’?” she says. “Obviously I have not been thinking about how he’s going to react.” 

Henwood also went in largely blind, though at least he actually knew what the show was. He was originally set to appear in season one of Taskmaster NZ, but ultimately had to wait another three years before being cast. “I went ‘I don’t want to watch it’ because I didn’t want to be influenced’. I purposefully kept myself in the dark and now I’m going to binge watch the old ones and go ‘I should have prepped for this’,” he laughs. Karen O’Leary was perhaps the most prepared – but she was hardly a diehard Taskmaster fan. She’d watched snippets from previous seasons and admits to trying to appeal to Wells’s ego in her performance. “I think he’s someone who is quite pedantic… My aim is to try and find my own exception to what the tasks are by mucking with how they have been worded,” she says. “I’m sure Jeremy will understand, but time will tell.” 

[crescenthoax]

Hi I’m that anon who sent you the GOT quote and I just wanna say to this beautiful bit 😭 “As for Floris and Aemond I know [my] Aemond is not everyone’s favourite but I don’t know… I feel like the lore about them I think every night before falling asleep is too deep and complex to even begin with. I adore them, even though he’s terrible and she deserves so much better, and yes, I see everyone pointing out that he’s not exactly mourning her but I think he is in his own way -and I will write about it. Just because.”

GIRLLL YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH /I/ LOVED THEM. They weren’t the main couple but I feel like all your side pairings are so much full of intrigue and drip with life. But yeaaahh um I loved them, I loved the whole “they prefer to look at each other than touch each other” thing and how less physical They were, I loved their opposite personalities, and I loved how they kept their relationship to themselves and away from prying eyes of not just the other characters like Annika but to the reader as well (unfortunately I’m a nosy bitch who wanted to see) They also reminded sooo much of Joanna and Tywin “Only Lady Joanna truly knows the man beneath the armor, and all his smiles belong to her and her alone.” LIKE.. ugh my heart.

I definitely overromanticized them to a problematic degree in my head 😭 I’m an optimist but I was so excited for the Christmas au bc I thought they’d get the happy ending they’d been robbed of by the Caswells in the main verse, I thought starting with them being broken up meant that their arc would be them getting back together so imagine my surprise and heartbreak when I read part 2 😭😭😭😭😭

I definitely feel more than a little silly for misinterpreting their relationship so much and hearing that they don’t actually “belong” together in that way, Idk. I don’t hate your Aemond but I do want to shake him and scream that he needs to get his act together and BECOME BETTER AND BECOME DESERVING of her because in my head, she was all he wanted. Idk. It’s stupid but I wanted them to be happy together so badly. I still really ship them even after alla dat which makes me a little bit of a 🤡 but I LOVE pain if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have made it this far into Aegon and Annika’s story.

I think so many of the readers associated the found family with all three of the couples just being siblings together so it’s easy to forget how much Aemond loves our girl Annika, if he’s disloyal to his wife which I think is sad and a little unfair but a valid reading. I’m also not ready to let go of this familial dynamic, it was definitely my favorite. I just hope for the best for all of the Targtowers and their remaining wives especially Aegon and Annika, but I know whatever you come up with, I’ll be happy with even if I’m sobbing on the floor.

Jeez that Tywin and Joanna’s comparison was truly something.

And, to be fair, I don’t think there’s such a thing as 'misinterpreting them.' I believe you can interpret their relationship however you want and also perceive the characters alone as you please. That's what's fun and magical about reading. As a writer, I would never say, 'no, actually…' when someone tells me their views on a character or a pairing—unless you're saying something absolutely out of context, like when someone said Annika enjoyed being with Jacaerys or that she didn’t love Floris. I want people to feel a genuine connection to the story and perhaps find themselves in the characters, to relate to them. I also love to see how what I’ve written is interpreted because it helps me a lot to see if people understand where I’m pointing. So, if you think they were in love (they were, I just think that if it were up to him he would’ve never taken a wife at all), then it’s okay. Aemond is a complicated dude driven by duty and greed, but yes, he loved her, and he’s in pain right now though he doesn’t let it show. Modern Aemond and Floris, however… I don't know I feel like modern Aemond would be so insufferable about women. Love him though.

On a side note, of course he loves and deeply cares about Annika too. I think I already talked about this, but he cares about her as an individual and also as an extension of his brother’s honour. That's why he’s mad and upset about the entire baby situation, perhaps even more than Aegon. I think Aegon feels guilty, and he’s sick with worry thinking about everything Aemond is pointing out. But I believe we can all agree that we are all going to miss this family so much. I even have to confess that I wrote that Christmas au because I was too depressed about the main fic and I missed Floris and the six of them and I wanted Helaena to be happy lol.

[pherryt]

Crossover Fic Recs

I was thinking about the fact that I love Crossovers (heck, i have more then 20 that I've written and more in the works) and thought I'd make a Crossover Rec List. I know i've read a good number, but these are my biggest faves:

1 - Browncoat, Green Eyes by nonjon

Read on Fanfic.net or AO3

Fandoms: Harry Potter/Firefly

Ship: River/Harry

Rated: M

Words: 298,538

Summary:

Post Serenity. Two years have passed since the secret of the planet Miranda got broadcast across the whole 'verse in 2518. The crew of Serenity finally hires a new pilot, but he's a bit peculiar.

2 - By Your Side is Where I Belong by TexasBean / @texasbeanwrites-stuffhere

Unfinished

Fandoms: One Piece/Naruto

Main Characters: Zoro, Naruto, Gaara

Rated T

Words: 378,159

Summary:

All he was supposed to do in Konoha was collect the reward for the bounty and be on his way. But when Zoro defends some kid from a drunk during a festival, he didn't realize he'd get stuck with Naruto. Arriving in Suna, the pair meet Gaara, who ends up leaving with them when he sadly has no reason to stay. Luffy is overjoyed to get three nakama at the start of his journey… The world is much bigger than people realize, and the Straw-Hat Pirates find themselves wrapped up in the mysteries of the Biju, Ancient Weapons, and earning the ire of the World Government while they’re at it. The unwitting presence of one resulting in the absence of others has far-reaching consequences.

3 - Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by @metisket

Fandoms: Full Metal Alchemist/Yuri on Ice

Rated : T

Words: 54,791

Ships: Yuuri/Victor

Summary:

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place. “Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

4 -There May Be Some Collateral Damage by metisket

Fandoms: Bleach/Harry Potter

Rating: T

Words: 61,209

Summary:

Ichigo’s been ordered to go undercover at a magic school to bodyguard a kid named Harry Potter, and this would be fine, except that he’s about as good at bodyguarding as he is at magic. And he considers it a good day, magic-wise, if he hasn’t set anything on fire.

I first read Browncoat, Green Eyes on fanfic.net after my husband sent me the link and I occasionally checked AO3 to see if it was ported over since I don't use FF.net anymore and I found out literally TONIGHT that it's there, so marking THAT to read. I am VERY happy.

And I just realized that the rest of my faves were found by @socially-awkward-chocobo, so I get to blame her for them :D

*note - i tried to tag metisket, since I, for one, love knowing when I'm on a rec list but even though the tumblr shows as active, tumblr won't let me tag :(

[lambcrown]

                           𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

#LAMBCROWN.  independent  &.  selective  LAMBERT  of  CULT OF THE LAMB. game &. headcanon based.  canon  divergent  ,  low  activity  &.  mutuals  only.  oc  ,  canon  &.  multi  —  muse  friendly.  martyred  by  fey.

RULES.

001. hi ! i’m fey , i’m 24 , white , my pronouns are she / they / fae , &. i’m an ace lesbian ! you can follow me on pinterest at feywildling , &. ask for my discord if we’re mutuals. i am pagan , norse specifically , &. there will be more about this in the next section. i have no personal triggers that need to be tagged , but if you do i will make sure to tag them ( &. common triggers ) as “trigger //” &. “trigger tw” so you can block them. 002. i’m under no obligation to follow everyone back. if i do follow you , i want to write with you , just give me time. i do up to three mains or one exclusive of a character or faceclaim. do not follow if you’re under eighteen , are bigoted in any way , ship incest , adults / minors , or any other gross behavior. i also won’t write with muses of mythology based gods because i am pagan , but fandom ( pjato , american gods , marvel , etc. ) is fine. i unfollow for inactivity , but message me or pop up in my notifications &. i’ll follow back. please do not follow me if you interact with valentine / laurel @.exorkizein. 003. my default setting is more high fantasy based , with lamb being a satyr rather than an outright anthropomorphic ram. with that , i also tend to write him post — game where he has taken narinder's place as a death god. this makes him quite powerful. please be aware of that when writing with me in addition to the fact lamb is... morally questionable at best. 004. i’m a fan of shipping , plain &. simple. whether it be romantic , familial , platonic , whatever , i want those bonds. i’m also a fan of testing out things because i see potential for them , so please don’t be afraid to approach me about a ship. if you ship it , i probably do too. 005. if i follow you , i want to write with you. i am definitely a slow rper , &. life doesn’t always allow me to get to threads or messages so please just be patient. using memes , writing starters , or plotting are all excellent ways of starting interactions. if we plot &. can develop things outside of directly writing , i will be more invested in our relationships. 006. my psd is blood hunter by jaynedits. i do not use icons or banners. all writing , personal headcanon , &. original edits belong to me. 007. i don’t own cult of the lamb or any canon content. i do own content made for this blog , so again , don’t steal.

MAINS &. EXCLUSIVES.

* = exclusive / ♡ = ship exclusive

URL. name. fandom.

VERSES.

VERSE. info.

[lesfeldickbiblestudy]

  Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 2 * PART 2 * BOOK 82 THE LAST MESSAGE TO DANIEL - 2 Daniel 11:32 - 12:13 Okay, once again it’s good to have everybody back.  You had your coffee break. We’ll pick right up where we left off in our last thirty minutes, and that’ll be in Daniel chapter 12 and verse 1.  For those of you joining us on television, again, how we thank you for your letters.  My goodness, the descriptive letters that we get of how you watch the program and how you make the coffee and how the dog gets excited, the canary gets excited—we get all these descriptions of people watching our program. But the main thing is they’re learning, and that’s all we can ask. We just got back from a long trip, and it is the same every place we go, “I watch you every morning.”  Well, when they watch every day, then that tells me they’re interested.  If they just watch now and then, ah, they’re just filling in time.  So for those of you out there, again, we just appreciate you so much for your prayers, your financial help, and, of course, your letters.   Okay, back into Daniel. Daniel 12:1a “And at that time (In other words, we’re dealing with this final seven years.) At that time shall Michael stand up, the great prince who standeth for the children of thy people: and there shall be a time of trouble,…”  Now, I’m glad we looked at those two portions back in Jeremiah and Zechariah in the last half hour.  How a time of trouble it is indeed going to be for the Nation of Israel.  It will be-- Daniel 12:1b “…such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time: and at that time thy people shall be delivered,…” All right, now before we go and see what the Lord Jesus Himself said about it, turn back with me to Psalms chapter 2. While you’re doing that, I’m going to put a makeshift, shortened-up timeline on the board.  I’ll put it over here hopefully where you can get it on the camera. Remember that we’re coming up out of the Old Testament with all of these prophecies concerning all this, and, of course, it led up to His rejection after three years. Then according to all these Old Testament prophecies—see, that’s what I have to constantly remind when I use this timeline.  This is the Old Testament timeline.  Then Christ would ascend back to Glory according to Psalms 110 verse 1, where it says “come sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool.”  Well, you see, shortly after that, these seven years were supposed to open up divided in half—three-and-a-half and three-and-a-half—and then that would trigger the Second Coming of Christ.   Not the Rapture but the Second Coming of Christ. Now you see, when you look at it in this light, you have to ask the question then, so far as we’re concerned, what’s missing?  Well, the Church Age!  This calling out of the Gentiles.  Well, why?  Well, you see, the Church Age was totally unknown to all biblical writers except the Apostle Paul.  Now, people don’t like that, and I say it carefully.  But it’s a fact.  That’s why Paul is always saying “Behold, I show you a mystery.”  A secret. Well, who kept it secret?  God did!  And you all know Deuteronomy 29:29 by now, “The secret things belong unto the LORD our God, and those things which are revealed belong unto us.”  What’s the word revealed mean?  Something that’s been kept secret has now been revealed. All right, so the Church Age is still a secret.  All through these Old Testament prophecies you won’t see any sign of it whatsoever.  This is the format.  Now, have you got Psalms chapter 2?  We’ve used it thousands of times, I think, in the last years, but here it is again.  Down to verse 4, when mankind, Jew and Gentile, Romans and Israel, have rejected the Messiah—they’ve crucified Him. Psalms 2:4 “He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.”  Then verse 5, after they have rejected Him. Psalms 2:5 “Then shall he speak unto them (That is the human race, but Israel in particular, because they are the most responsible.

) then shall he speak unto them in his (What?) wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure.” But, what’s going to follow in verse 6?  The King—the King and the Kingdom, that part of Scripture, like I say all the time, most of Christendom knows nothing of. That after Christ has been crucified, rejected, ascended up to Glory, He’s going to wait whatever time He knows it’s going to take until the Tribulation is ended, and He will return and set up His Kingdom. All right, now then, stop at Daniel chapter 12 once again, because if you’re like me, you’ve already forgotten what we talked about two minutes ago.  Daniel 12 verse 1, the last half of the verse. Daniel 12:1b “…there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time: (That is from 2,000 B.C. when Abraham was called.) and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that shall be found written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.”  In other words, the believing element. All right, now jump up to Matthew 24 and see how perfectly Daniel agrees with what the Lord Jesus Himself says.  Matthew 24 and we’ll start at verse 15. And, again, verses that we use over and over—24:15.  And remember, this whole chapter of Matthew 24 is Jesus unveiling the horrors of these final seven years.  Starting with verse 5: Matthew 24:5 “For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many.”  Well, we’re already seeing the beginning of those kinds of deceptions with all the false teaching that is rolling upon the human race. But all right, jump up to verse 15 to get the parallel, if I may use the word, the parallel with Daniel 12 verse 2.  Now the Lord Himself says: Matthew 24:15-16 “When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, (That is the anti-Christ going in and defiling the Temple.) spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand in the holy place, (whoso readeth, let him understand:) 16. Then let them who be in Judea flee into the mountains:” Because of the coming holocaust.  But the part I want you to compare with Daniel is verse 21. Matthew 24:21  “For then (when we get to these final three-and-a-half years) for then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, (That is at zero, or in the first century, A.D, 29, however you want to put it.) no, nor ever shall be.”  Looking all the way down the corridors of time to the end, there would be nothing to compare with these final three-and-a-half years. Now, what makes me have a heart-stop is when I read this and then think of Hitler’s Holocaust.  See, that was down the pike 1900 and some years from the time that Jesus spoke this. But even that will pale into insignificance compared to these three-and-a-half years.  You and I cannot comprehend it.  And yet we can’t diminish it, because it’s what the Book teaches. All right, now coming back to Daniel chapter 12, it will be a time like there has never been before, except for those who had become believers, or will in God’s own knowledge, His pre-knowledge, foreknowledge.  All right, but now verse 2, and we jump into something that Daniel probably deals with more specifically in this last chapter of his prophecy than all the Old Testament put together.  Because, see, you don’t have a lot of reference to the resurrection in the Old Testament.  Now, there’s enough that we know that they believed it.  They understood that there was an afterlife. But to understand resurrections as we can see now in chapter 12 and then jumping into the New Testament, the Jews just didn’t have a handle on it.  All right, verse 2: Daniel 12:2a “And many of them that sleep in the dust…”  In other words, that have died physically.  Now maybe I’d better qualify.  Why does the Scripture speak of the physical death as sleep? Now, I’m going to make you aware of some of the cults that speak of soul-sleep.  No.  We don’t believe in soul-sleep.  The soul never sleeps.  It never loses its consciousness, because the soul was created after God Himself and God doesn’t sleep.

  So get those two concepts separate.  The soul never dies. The soul and spirit never sleep, but the body that dies does.  It sleeps.  Why?  Because the day is coming when God’s going to awaken it.  So it’s not gone, like a dog’s.  It’s, again, that intrinsic created being of God in such a way that He can call it back to life.  So, it’s correct to call physical death, sleep, but don’t ever speak of the soul-sleep.  Now, did I make my point?  Did I make it clear?  The soul never dies; the physical body does.  And we can call it asleep, because it’s going to be awakened again, see?  It’s not final. Daniel 12:2a “And many of them who sleep in the dust of the earth, (In other words, they’ve died physically, all the way since Adam.  And what’s going to happen to them?) shall awake,…” See, that’s the whole teaching of resurrection.  Now, most of the religions of the world—all your Oriental religions and all that—they don’t speak of resurrection.  They speak of attaining a higher level of coming back in reincarnation. But to be resurrected?  Not a one that I know of has any dealing with that, only our biblical concept.    All right, now let’s read on.  So, many of them who have died physically will awake. Daniel 12:2b “…some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. 3. And they that shall be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.”  All right, now let’s jump all the way up to John’s Gospel and see, in the words of the Lord Jesus Himself, that very same concept.  John’s Gospel chapter 5, now this is the beauty of Scripture: the more you study it; the more you compare Scripture with Scripture, the more parallels that you can draw, the more believable it becomes.  And the scoffer can scoff all he wants.  And you know why he scoffs?  They never read it.  They never read it.  They scoff about something they know nothing of. You know, I think I shared it on one of the previous programs.  I don’t watch much television, but I happened to catch when Bill O’Reilly on FOX was interviewing Ted Turner. And, of course, you all know Ted Turner has CNN.  So Bill is kind of jabbing him a little bit, and he said, “Ted, if I understand you correctly – you hate FOX news.”  He says, “I sure do.”   “How can you hate something that you never watch?  Because you never watch FOX do you?”  He says, “Never!”  “Well, then how do you know what you’re hating?” Well, you know it’s the same way with Scripture.  If they’ve never studied it, how can they hate it?  If they’ve never studied it, how can they scornfully scoff at it?  It really becomes ridiculous, doesn’t it?  But all right, now look what the Lord Jesus says and compare it with what Daniel wrote—that those who are asleep in the dust shall be awakened, some to glory and some to everlasting contempt.  Now here’s what Jesus said about it, John’s Gospel chapter 5 verse 28. John 5:28 “Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, (Well, now that’s 2,000 years ago.  But 2,000 years is nothing in God’s eyes.  So, it’s still out in front.) for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves (everybody from Adam to the end that has lived as a human being and died) shall hear his voice.”  Not all at once.  Not in just one resurrection, but over the period of resurrections they’re all going to be brought forth.  All right, now here He divides them, verse 29. John 5:29a  “And shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life;…” Now we’ve done this before.  When the Scriptures speak of human beings doing good in God’s eyes, what have they done?  They’ve believed.  I heard it over here.  They have been people of faith.  From day one it’s faith, and that is the key.  Hebrews says “Without faith it is impossible to please God.”  All right, so men of faith, whatever dispensation, will come forth in the resurrection of life.  But those who went out into eternity without faith are going to come unto what?  The condemnation.

John 5:29b “…and they that have done evil, (no faith) unto the resurrection of condemnation.”  So, here you have Daniel and John in his Gospel in perfect accord that the day is coming when every human being will experience resurrection, some to life eternal and some to eternal doom.  All right, come back to chapter 12, again, for just a moment.  We’re on verse 3. Daniel 12:3a  “And they that be wise...” Those who had the wherewithal to believe what God said.  You know, that’s the smartest thing a person can do, isn’t it? It is to become a child of God.  In whatever dispensation, whether it was Adam and Eve or whether it was someone since then, or whether it’s today or whether it’s in life to come, or in time to come, this is the smartest thing that a human being can do. Daniel 12:3 “And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; (In other words, as they are in God’s presence.) and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.”  In other words, there’s our encouragement to be a soul winner. All right, verse 4, we’ll shift gears here a little bit, and we’ll come back to resurrections later in the chapter.  Now verse 4: Daniel 12:4a “But thou, O Daniel, (Now remember, how old is he?  Oh, he’s about 90.  He’s almost pushing 90 or a little over.  He’s getting right up there, and he’s never going to get back to the Promised Land in this life.) But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book, even to the time of the end:…”  Now that sounds odd, doesn’t it?  But think about it.  Was there any need in God’s wisdom to be talking about prophecy 2,000 years ago?  Well, of course not. God knew it wasn’t going to happen.  So there was no real need to have an understanding of it.  But you see, as I pointed out in, I think, the last taping. When you go back to the Book of Isaiah, Isaiah was prophesying and preaching and proclaiming to the Nation of Israel of his day in 700 B.C. that the enemies were coming, and that if Israel did not turn from their wickedness they would be hearing foreign languages in their midst—in other words, occupying troops.  And over and over he’s warning Israel of the coming Babylonian invasion.  I think I said it in the last taping.  My, it sounds as if it’s going to be in another month or two and they’ll be here.  How long was it, remember?  Hundred years.  It was a hundred years before it happened, but it happened.  And that’s why I’m saying the same way here.  We may think these things are way out in the future, but it’s going to happen. All right, but now, so far as understanding end-time prophecy that God in His wisdom knew that from Daniel’s day until these things would actually come to pass would be 2,700 years.  Well, it was really no need for it.  So, how did God program it?  Well, I’m still going to stick to that hundred years, and we’ve been doing it in our seminars from time-to-time.  I have a series of three or four nights’ lessons, “The Signs of the Times.”  When the Lord said in Matthew—you can discern the red sunset and know it’s going to be fair tomorrow, but you can’t understand biblical signs.  Well, we have the same thing today. Now God has opened these prophetic books, and since about 1860-1865 there’s been an increase in the knowledge of prophecy things.  But it wasn’t necessary until then.  So, most of Christendom knew absolutely nothing of end-time events.  Now, they did for the first few years after the Temple was destroyed.  But it faded off and these things were moot.  But now just stop and think.  How many of the things that we see are indicating that we’re coming down to the end? And now we’re, I like to do it this way, like a snow ball rolling down hill. So when I do this, that’s what’s in my mind.  I just see that old snowball picking up snow as it’s going along.  All right, the further down it goes, the faster it goes and the bigger it grows.  This is what we’ve got with the end-time scenario which these people back here and all the way up until about 1860—none of them knew anything whatsoever.

Now, you’ve got to realize that most of your mainline denominations and all of Roman Catholics to this day are not taught anything of end-time.  Nothing.  All you have to do is just talk to any of these end-time denomination people.  Now, I don’t mind naming them, because they will admit it just as fast as I will.  You take all the mainline reformation churches—the Lutherans, the Presbyterians, the Christian Reforms, and the Methodists, the Congregationalists and probably others—go up to any one of them and ask them about the Rapture, ask about the Tribulation.  You know how they’ll look at you?  Like we old cowmen say, “like a bull at a new gate.”  How am I going to handle this?  They don’t know a thing about it.  Now there are a few that are starting to wake up. But for the most part they know nothing of end-time prophecy, because they are still keeping the Book closed. All right, go to a Roman Catholic.  I don’t care who he or she is and ask them, do you know anything about the Rapture?  I had a fellow the other day, had never heard the word.  Had never even heard the word, let alone knew what it was.  And that’s typical, because they have never considered end-time prophecy. And, of course, primarily because one of the early church fathers, and I put this on a program several months back. Origen, O-r-i-g-e-n, one of the early church fathers was the first one to promote replacement theology.  And of course the reason was, Origen lived after A.D.100, around A.D.135 AD.  He, of course, had witnessed the destruction of the Temple, the destruction of Jerusalem. and the dispersion of the Jews.  And the Jews were already all around the then-known world.  Well, he came to conclusion that God was all through with the Jewish people and that in time they would assimilate and disappear.  Now that’s why we call it replacement theology, because the Church was supposedly picking up what Israel dropped. Well, it was one of the most awful, awful things to come out of the early church fathers. Because this is the reason, now, that all of your mainline Protestant denominations coming out of Roman Catholicism in 1511 never heard it.  Never considered it.  Until this very day. All right, but it’s the same way with a lot of other things.  God kept the lid on technology.  Until when? Again, the late part of the 1800’s, then all of a sudden you have all of your inventions, one after another.  The steam engine, the telephone, the telegraph, electricity, of course, and then by the time you get to the turn of the century, you’ve come to the airplane, the automobile.  Now you’re downhill.  Now technology just starts rolling until we get past World War II, and now up into our own lifetime the advent of the computers. My, I think I was sharing with one of my classes on the road the other day.  Do you know how big a computer was back in 1970?  It filled a room.  Almost this size.  Now they’ve got it in their shirt pocket.  Same power.  Same ability.  And I happened to have a fellow in one of my audiences who had worked with computers in 1970, and he said, “Les, you are exactly right.”  He said, “When I first started working in the computer business, it took a room almost as big as this one to do what our little hand-held does now.”  Well, just image how technology in the secular world has been unrolling. And in the biblical area?  Now we have an understanding, we have resources that, up until the turn of the century, they never had and they never used.  So, all these things are just exactly as the Scripture shows.  See, we didn’t read the last half of verse 4. Daniel 12:4b “…close up the book even to the end: (Then there’s a colon and the last half says--) many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” Now, I think most people always just think world’s knowledge. No. Biblical knowledge—an understanding of the Scriptures like has never been before.  And it’s because God has now opened the understanding that we can discern these things that folks a hundred years ago had no possibility of understanding.

Now, in the two minutes we have left, I’m just going to pursue this a little further.  As we are now seeing the signs of the times: this tremendous increase in biblical understanding; biblical outreach, as well as in the secular world of the inventions and the discoveries.  Now, I read in a scientific journal about three or four years ago, and we’re seeing evidence of it already.  You know what the big push in all of our research laboratories is?  To make everything smaller.  Smaller.  Smaller.  Smaller. That’s why we have now come from a computer that fills a huge room to a little outfit in our shirt pocket.  And the same way with all these other things, the cell phone.  My goodness, I know the first cell phone Iris and I had was a box that big that set on the floor. But now, here it is so small the kids just hold it and, there again, they’re texting.  And I read another article.  They’re getting addicted to it.  And how in the world can a kid learn anything if all he’s doing is asking his friend, “What are you doing.”  And the friend texts back, “Nothing.”  Then five minutes later, he texts his friend, “What are you doing?”  And he texts back, “Nothing.”  But, you see, the brain is sleeping.  That’s what worries me.  These kids are going to find nothing in all this punching of their cell phone that’s going to prepare them for the future.  Oh, well, I’m getting on a soapbox. But anyway, look at all the things that are snowballing just since 1900.  The New Age Movement.  Now, you see, the New Age Movement, except as the Ancient religions—but to actually pick up tidbits from the New Age phenomena and put it into a modern scenario was unheard of until about the 1890’s and a gal by the name of Alice Daily.  Then after 1900 others picked up her thinking, and it’s also been snowballing. Right now the biggest push in our big churches in the cities is a movement as New Age as you can get, but under the disguise of evangelicalism, and it’s called the Emerging Church.  Look out for it.  It is as dangerous as anything can be. What they’re really trying to show is that they want to bring all of Christendom back under the umbrella of Roman Catholicism. That’s what it really amounts to.  And we’re hearing it in our travels. That especially in these larger churches in the cities these people are coming in with the doctrine of what they call The Emerging Church.  And, beloved, it’s as dangerous as anything can be.

[linane-art]

6. Marks of Belonging (Fili/Kili, G Isca Verse)

“Come on, Kili. It doesn’t even have to be big.” Fili pleaded with his Roman.

“How many times have we spoken about this?! The answer is still no!” Kili huffed distractedly, inspecting the handiwork of his engineers and stonemasons, building his latest promontory fort.

“A little thing. My personal crest, maybe -” Fili followed after his Roman, undeterred. While Kili had this mysterious thing with his eyes, which made him dangerously difficult to resist, Fili had the sheer pig-headed stubbornness, which usually wore down his opponents sooner or later. It was just a matter of time.

“No.”

“It doesn’t even have to be on your face -” Fili tried to compromise, although the thought sat ill with him. “On the neck, or over your heart –“

“Nope.”

“It doesn’t even hurt that bad, I promise! We have this poultice we use for children that makes your skin go all numb and tingly –“

“What are you suggesting, exactly?”

“It will be over before you know it! Our tatŵydd is exceptionally skilled. He did my father, before he did me and more than two dozen men in our village. People come to see him all the way from –“

“I am a Roman. We don’t shy away from pain! Our men limp off the battlefield with injuries –“

“So you’ll do it then? To prove your manly, er… Roman-ness, yes?”

“I myself have once taken a spearhead to the shin and still fought on for well over an hour! Two nearly! It went in so deep –“

“I will make arrangements.”

“No! I told you: It’s against the regulation!”

“You are the regulation round here!”

“And I say: no! I already grew my hair out for you and that’s strictly speaking frowned upon.”

“Well, how else would we have put in your warrior braids?!”

“Besides, I still have to go back to Rome from time to time! How would it look, if I came back covered in markings like one of the Barbarians we seek to conquer and civilise?! No offence, Fee –“

“All offence taken. I have seen what goes on in your foricae, I have seen how you use your tersorium. You do not have the moral high ground here.”

Kili ignored him and squinted thoughtfully at the exact angle and curvature of his new gate arch. “I am not getting a tattoo, Fili.”

“But all the other couples have their personal markings!” Fili threw his arms out in the air in exasperation and kicked a nearby stone, emphatically. The stone sailed in the air, before hitting a newly constructed section of the wall, where it splintered into several chunks, but not before gauging a sizeable chip off the otherwise perfectly uniform brick surface.  

Kili spun on his heel and glowered at Fili.

Fili didn’t have it in him to look sheepish just then. “We look like we’re trying to hide our marriage!” he argued instead. “The people won’t know!”

“Anyone who spends five minutes in the garrison and sees you strutting up the Via Praetoria right to my main doorway and then fondle my good-luck penis as you ring the bell and wait to be let in, will have no doubts as to our relationship status.” Kili hissed right into Fili’s face, in a terrible stage-whisper.

“My people won’t know! They will think that I just bang you – you know, recreationally!” Fili hissed right back. “One day, someone will try to hurt you and I’m going to have to introduce myself before I slit their throat!”

“For the last time: I don’t need your protection! I’m a big boy, with some big, sharp swords and a whole legion sworn to me personally.”

Fili narrowed his eyes, but he loved his Roman too much to call him outright on his bluff. “You know,” he said thoughtfully and slowly instead, “I could just do it in your sleep one night…”

Kili narrowed his own eyes in response and got even more into Fili’s personal space. “I’d like to see you try,” he said, and it would have been menacing to anyone else, but to Fili it just sounded… enticing.

-------------------

"On the count of three."

Early morning walks while it's still cool out

Hypnosis

Elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

Superpowers.

A long-lost journal

"I made a mistake of thinking 'this can't possibly get any weirder than this'. Sorry."

"You want me quiet? Mmmmmake me."

Buying/renting their first property and moving in together

Independent travel AU

Drabble Challenge 8 is now officially open!

We are only playing Sat - Sun, so please come back on Tumblr to check it often. (From now on until Sun/Mon midnight whatever time you’re on)

RULES ARE THE SAME AS LAST TIME - PLEASE READ UNDER THE CUT:

STEP 1: Pick one of the following prompts:

"On the count of three."

Early morning walks while it's still cool out

Hypnosis

Elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

Superpowers.

Marks of belonging

"I made a mistake of thinking 'this can't possibly get any weirder than this'. Sorry."

"You want me quiet? Mmmmmake me."

Buying/renting their first property and moving in together

Independent travel AU

Step 2: Write a quick response of at least 100 words (a classic drabble is 100 words, but we’re making concessions).

We won’t be counting, but the challenge here is to be concise, while having a clear link to the prompt you’re responding to. There is no upper limit, but remember the prompts get snatched pretty quick.

Fili/Kili or any fictional Dean/Aidan pairings, clearly mark your warnings etc.

Existing verses or brand new work are both fine.

Step 3: Refresh Tumblr and use the notes to check the last person that has reblogged this post with a response (IMPORTANT!)

Just ordinary reblogs to spread the word are ok (ignore those), but you’re looking specifically for the latest reblog that had a drabble added.

Step 4: Reblog from that person, adding your response. You also need to copy-paste the prompt list and REPLACE the one prompt you responded to with a brand new prompt (anything you like).

I.e. you claim one and you put one back. There are still 10 prompts.

Step 5: Format your post. Response text and updated prompts list MUST be hidden under the ‘Read more’ button.

Only 2 lines should be visible on the dashboard: 1) which prompt you’re claiming, pairing, rating, verse, possible warnings and 2) ‘Read more’.

Step 6: Tag your response: #Drabble Challenge 8 so that whoever wants to, can blacklist the whole event.

Next person:

Step 1: Find the latest reblog of this post with a response.

Step 2: Pick one of the prompts from the updated list (always find the latest reblog!)

Repeat Step 3, Step 4, Step 5, Step 6 etc. The list of prompts is forever evolving.

This event is meant to be snappy and fast, creating a caterpillar of reblogs, crawling all over your dashes.

How to resolve possible problems:

Two people writing responses at the same time for 2 different prompts from the same list. This is not a problem: So long as the second person responding finds the latest reblog, their prompt should still be available on the updated list. Only 1 prompt is replaced at a time.

Two people writing responses at the same time for the same prompt (AKA my prompt disappeared by now): Find the latest reblog, add your response and add your own prompt as number 11. From now on there are 11 prompts. However, this is meant to be snappy, so please don’t spend half a day writing 100 words…

Meanwhile, @linane-art will kick-start this, and provide the first example.

Have fun! Any questions - give us a shout. If it starts going wrong, there may be a mod reblog, setting it straight again.

~gatheringfiki

[shewalked]

don’t  mind  me,  just  *gestures*  new  tags.

[63l3]

                                verse three :   main :  i’m back where i belong.

this verse is my major verse for elliot’s return so here are some of the basic details if you’d like to plot something !  (  i also have another general returned verse for any other plots where he comes back earlier / later / in a different way  ) 

just hanging around his house dealing with having shot jenna and waiting to see if he'd be cleared and he was gone around two to three months before he officially left.  with IAB conducting their investigation there was nothing he could do but sit around and free time doesn’t really agree with him. 

he gets restless and snappy and kathy does try to be there for him but living with him was hard she decided to start divorce proceedings again, tired of fighting  —  el let her go without an arguement.  their marriage had been dead for a decade anyway and he knew they were clutching at straws trying to stay together for eli’s sake.

he'd been about to put in his papers when an old friend of his caught wind of what was going down and offered him a place working as a uc in the unit he was leading and el takes the position

i’m setting his return in season 16 around the time of episode  ‘ undercover mother ’  he,  like murphy is working undercover in the sex trafficking ring,  though he tends to deal more on the drug side of the equation.  working with the underage victims makes him sick and he’s had to shut down a lot in his three years undercover to prevent himself from killing the targets of the operation.  the only thing that gets him through it is knowing that figuring out where the head of the snake lies will allow them to save hundreds,  possibly thousands more girls like the ones he sees every day.  still,  he has on occasion helped martha thornhill to buy girls and get them out of the life. 

he has olivia’s badge number   (  4015  )   tattooed on the inside of his left wrist,  almost always hidden underneath his watch.  he got it about a year into his under cover stint because he wanted to feel closer to her again.

a few months after leaving the unit elliot sent liv his medal as it happens in this deleted scene 

getting arrested by svu in a sting operation  (  not the super bowl sunday raid but another one shortly after where amanda,  sonny and nick are undercover  )  was actually a huge relief for him.  he wasn’t about to ask to be pulled out from undercover but working with these people was destroying him slowly and though he knows he wouldn’t have done well being retired and at home either he often regretted taking the uc position.

in the three years he spent undercover elliot didn’t seen any of his children in person though he keeps an eye on them all from afar.

during the william lewis ordeal he was on the other side of the country and didn’t know a thing about it   (  had he,  he’d have come back for her,  undercover be damned  )  he didn’t find out until over a year later when he spotted an old newspaper in one of the rundown houses they were using with her on the cover but by then, after so long without a word ?  he assumed she wouldn’t want to hear from him at all

when first arrested elliot is cold and angry,  it takes until he sees olivia again for him to start to feel like himself.  even then it takes him a few weeks to shake off the persona he’s been living in and return to more of the elliot we know. 

with the help of svu they’re able to get johnny d and a number of other upper level traffickers allowing the case elliot was working on to be closed.  after his exemplary performance in the undercover unit IAB let up and he’s able to keep his badge and go back to work as normal.  el requests to be placed back at svu

things with he and liv are tense at first but he’s determined to win her over.  elliot is beyond proud of liv’s rise to sergeant though disappointed that being back in the unit won’t mean having her back as a partner.

elliot grew out his beard while undercover but shaves it off soon after coming back to svu 

liv partners him with rollins who he views as a giant pain in the ass at first but they quickly develop an annoying brother / sister type of bond and she becomes a dearly loved pain in the ass / @alwaysfine 

elliot spends a almost all of his free time trying to reconnect with his children once he’s back and thanks God that he came back in time to be able to walk maureen down the isle.  eli is 8 when he gets back and while he and kathy aren’t on good terms after his extended absence she lets elliot take him every second weekend.  he has trouble getting the kids to forgive him for leaving at first but once he’s able to win them over they set up a family dinner every wednesday  (   which he hates having to cancel though he has to for work semi regularly  ) , dickie only comes every so often. elliot is still working on repairing their relationship.

once he’s done with uc he gets an apartment in the city not too far from the precinct which maureen, kathleen and lizzie decorate for him. 

*  i’ll probably add to this as i think of things but this is everything for rn

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Namjoon Werewolf Au !

Alpha werewolf!

Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.

-------------------------------

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.

Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.

The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.

The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.

Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.

He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.

A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.

It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.

Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .

How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?

It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .

Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.

Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.

And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....

He should have left her behind with them.

" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"

Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.

His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.

Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.

But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.

He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?

Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.

" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.

"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.

Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.

She had fainted .

---------------------------------

" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.

Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.

" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.

Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.

He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her

an apologetic smile.

The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.

As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.

She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.

And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.

He has no interest in either.

-------------------------

The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?

They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.

Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.

" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.

"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.

So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.

He wondered if it was because of his face.

Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?

It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.

But she hadn't.

She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.

So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?

It irked him no end.

As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.

Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.

" She is with child."

Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.

Fuck.

---------------------------------------------

Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

[perfectlywingedsilco]

An Invitation: Part Four (Silco x Mel drabble)

Part One Part Two Part Three

AO3 Link

'Beautiful, isn’t it?’

Silco directed his gaze away from Councillor Medarda to look up at the painting on the wall. It was of a ship at sea, its beaten brass bow gleaming golden in the light of a sunset while it glided across a peaceful, cerulean sea.

‘The choice of colours is ... suitable,’ said Silco, not knowing what else to say. And he realised it was a mistake when the councillor turned to look at him with a mischievous gleam to her eyes.

‘My, my ... Have we found a subject in which the great Statesman Silco is not fully versed?’

‘You’ve found me out. My knowledge of art is ... in need of improvement.’

‘I will share a secret with you then,’ Councillor Medarda said, and Silco enjoyed her conspiratorial manner. ‘There is no single way to appreciate art. And there is no rule that demands you appreciate it at all. But if anyone should ask, you can always say that you found it complex and evocative.’

‘And that won’t make them ask further questions.’

‘Not if you say it with an air of mystery - which I have no doubt you do quite well,’ she said, before a soft peal of laughter escaped her parted lips.

‘My ignorance amuses you,’ Silco said, a little warily, but the councillor quickly shook her head while she politely covered her smile with a hand.

‘No, that is not it at all,’ she assured him as she placed the other hand on his arm. ‘I am simply imagining the fool who would think to press you beyond your patience.’

‘Ah. So now I’m bad-tempered,’ said Silco, though it was with a slight smile of his own.

‘You are complex and evocative,’ Councillor Medarda teased him, clearly in a buoyant mood.

‘And you make the colours of the Vinscher look dull and pale in comparison.’

It was the first real compliment he had given her, and it seemed to startle her a little. But her hand on his arm had been her first real touch, and that had startled him just as much.

There was a silence that stretched for a moment too long as they looked at each other. And then Councillor Medarda was smiling one of her pleasant, practiced smiles as she gestured for them to return to the party.

Jayce Talis was waiting for her with a glass in hand as they came through to the main hall once more. And Silco obligingly let her be whisked away by her handsome young paramour without complaint.

He found himself watching them from a distance, noting how well they suited each other. Talis, like a bronzed demigod who had stepped out of a painting of classical heroes, while the councillor looked like the queen who had come to enwreath him with her favour.

Silco turned his eye away to stare out across the sea of heads. It was clear he didn't belong there, in that world of heavenly marvels, where wine flowed like water and laughter left the lips like the peal of bells across a valley.

A light touch at his elbow surprised him, as did the smile that met his eye when he turned. Because Councillor Medarda had returned to him and was passing him a knowing look.

'You are enjoying yourself, I can tell,' she said, her lowered voice rich with amusement. And Silco found himself holding back a smile as he noticed her slight intoxication.

'I'm enjoying myself now,' he told her with a knowing look of his own. And he was pleased to see the flush of colour blossoming across her cheeks as she held his gaze with a smile.

'I must admit, I never thought you would be one for giving compliments so freely, Statesman,' she said as her gaze travelled over him closely.

But Silco was feeling more determined as he replied, 'My compliments don't come for free, Councillor.'

There was a moment of uncertainty. A pulse of hesitation. And then a budding interest as the councillor's eyes gazed up at him from under the eaves of her long lashes.

'And what price would you set for them?' she asked him in an enticing tone that only he could hear.

'Why not make me an offer, Councillor. I’m sure we can come to the right terms.'

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Oakland Coliseum Arena in Oakland, CA, USA - September 7, 1982 (Part-1)

(x)

The band are in great form tonight, full of vitality and passion. Only the intro of Rock It is performed from now onward. When the vocal is expected to re-enter after the rhythm section joins in, the band jump into the first verse of the fast We Will Rock You. John Deacon's bass solo after the second chorus is aggressive, and overall the band are clearly happy to be playing the longer version of the song again - although they do have a bit of trouble getting out of the middle section together, but they recover well. Freddie offers a great version of Play The Game. After the song, he has a word with the enthusiastic audience. "So here we are, back again in Oakland after a long time. Has everybody been keeping okay since we've been away?" Naturally everyone says "yeah", and Freddie replies, "Bullshit!" He continues, "Anyway, we have a lot of new songs for you since we were here last, and this next one is a song for all the girls here tonight, you know what I mean? The real girls. If you've got tits or if you haven't got tits it don't matter." The girls quickly stop cheering as Freddie is just trying too hard when he actually doesn't have to. He attempts to recover, "You just don't understand English. It doesn't matter. This is a Roger Taylor composition [the mention of Roger's name gets the girls screaming again] entitled Calling All Girls." Just before the first chorus of the song, Freddie adlibs, "I've got a message for you babe!" After the second chorus, following "take a message of love for all to hear," he adds to the energy with a few spontaneous words: "Have you got it? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?" Tonight is the first known performance of the Hot Space rocker Put Out The Fire, segueing from the vocal improv of Now I'm Here (Freddie doesn't have the lyrics perfected yet, which suggests it hasn't been performed too many times - fan club magazines from the period say the song was performed as a standalone piece earlier in the tour). After the second chorus, the band seamlessly jump into Dragon Attack. The combination of these three songs seems to recall the medley idea that had been dropped in 1981. After Now I'm Here, Freddie challenges the audience to one of his usual vocal duels. For the first time, he is heard singing "Dee do de de", something that would become part of the lyrics of "Living On My Own" off his first solo album in 1985. Shortly thereafter, after an "alright" that's held for a few seconds, he shouts, "You can do it!" in encouragement, after which he says, "Not bad! It's amazing what you will do if you're pushed." He really takes a liking to this audience. During the next song, Save Me, instead of singing the line "I love you 'til I die," he speaks the words "I love ya", and during the three quiet beats leading into the first chorus, he quickly and poignantly adds, "don't forget it!" Freddie once again dedicates Fat Bottomed Girls to "people who like fucking a lot." In the second verse of Crazy Little Thing Called Love, he modifies a lyric to say "she knows how to fuck and roll." One can draw their own conclusions as to where Freddie Mercury's mind was at on this tour. He turns in a very passionate version of Bohemian Rhapsody (despite not being in full voice by the end of the show), where everything seems to come home to him. Only he knew what the song really meant, but plenty have suggested that the proverbial man being killed in the first verse as told to his mother is his former self that had not yet come to terms with his sexuality. A clash of worlds in 1982, if that's the case. Matt Granz (also with a story from San Francisco '77) fondly shares his memories of this show here:

“This photo is from Queen's last Bay area show ever with Freddie Mercury. With the new direction that they took with the album "The Game" Brian May stated that Queen had "gained the world, but lost America". I think that after they played a Los Angeles gig or two after this particular show that they never did come back to the US. That is truly sad since they were one of the most charismatic of all rock groups to ever play on a stage. This concert was no exception! This photo was taken during Brian's echo solo. The three lights backlighting Brian belonged to one of two manned light pods that followed him around the stage. It was a spectacular effect!

The friend I went to the concert with (who's name I can't even begin to recall) took his SLR 35mm and I took a pocket fixed focus... after seeing me lament over the bad quality of my images he took mercy on me and sold me this memory as an 8x10 B&W Glossy that I kept secured in a folder... and just recently rediscovered and decided to digitize these many years later. My own pics from the concert all came out underexposed... drat! His SLR had some great lenses and he had his own darkroom. He also had great access to many good spots to shoot from.

By the way… remember the days when you didn't need a press badge to bring a camera to a concert? What happened??? Lawyers, I'll tell ya... Lawyers.

The story behind the Flying V being utilized was that at the very onset of his Echo solo, Brian busted a string on the "Red Special". He waked backstage and then shortly reappeared with this guitar. The sound was quite different. After the solo was done fifteen minutes later, he took back his own guitar and proceeded to use it for the rest of the show. It was pretty unusual to see him playing this and (besides the Tele he plays on Crazy Little Thing Called Love for the songs' first solo) have not seen him play another electric besides his main axe that he and his father made.

I was pretty poor at the time, but I liked this photo enough to buy it because of the before mentioned spectacular lighting and the fact that Brian is playing a Flying V.

Though I was not a fan of The Game, this concert was superb! I came to see Brian (being a guitarist myself) and was amazed at how distracted I was by the rest of the band. They were flawless that night and the floor seats I snuck into... 20 rows from the stage... provided the perfect viewing experience. The light show was also the best I had ever seen as well, in that it didn't distract from the music or musicians but rather pulsated perfectly with the beats and saturated the stage with great color combinations.

Freddie, Brian, Roger & John all had the whole auditorium held by the throat from the very start of the show till the last fading notes of "God Save the Queen". Sheer Excellence!” Most of the photos were taken by Sean Trend. A few of the pictures show Brian with the Gibson Flying V, as he had played in East Rutherford last month. But this time he begins his solo with the Flying V, as confirmed by someone who attended the show. Brian, in disbelief, later commented on this: http://www.brianmay.com

“Well, I'm shocked. I definitely would have sworn that I never played a solo live with a Flying V. I played around with them, but mainly at home, except for one video appearance for "Princes of the Universe" in which I'm obviously not really playing!!!

Cheers Bri”

(x)

Part-2

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Imagine...finding out there’s fanfic written about you--and even Charlie ships you with Dean

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff? Crack? A dramatic fanfic within a fanfic that I got carried away with haha.

A/N: This is kind of ridiculous, but I had fun with it! Also, I’ve never actually seen GoT but it seemed like a reasonable reference from what I’ve heard about it.

“Hey, look who I found!” Sam’s voice echoed through the War Room.

Dean glanced at you from across the table in the library, sharing your surprised expression as you both pushed your chairs away and stood. 

“‘Sup, bitches?” Charlie grinned, making her way up the steps toward you.

“Hey! We were expecting you guys to come in through the main door. We’ve been keeping an ear out.”

Charlie stepped into your outstretched arms and pulled you into a tight hug. “It was a spur of the moment decision, but I decided to stick around a day or two longer than planned! Sam said I could go ahead and park in the garage.”

She let go of you and turned to give Dean a hug too. He smiled softly with a look that was uniquely reserved for her, cradling the back of her head while she pressed her cheek against his.

“Good to see you, Charlie. You know you’re always welcome to stay as long as you want.”

An involuntary smile crept onto your face as you watched them. You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at the low rumble in his voice when he said her name. There was an undeniable protectiveness in his tone when he spoke to her--the sister he’d never wanted, as he affectionately called her.

When you shifted your attention to her, you noticed she was watching you. Before you could decipher the knowing glint in her eye, she suddenly twisted out of his arms and glanced back and forth between you and Dean. She began swinging her arms awkwardly before opting to cross them over her chest.

“You okay?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah! Of course...Totes chill...cooler than a pack of peppermints.” She bobbed her head and flashed a nervous smile, twisting her hair around her finger as she struggled to act nonchalant. “It’s just that I remembered something. A story I read a while back--completely random. Totally unrelated to anything--I mean, now I’m starting to ramble. Hah! So how’ve you guys been? Still saving the world from evil sons-of-bitches?” 

“Uh, yeah…” Sam answered, scrunching his eyebrows together. “We stay busy.”

“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” you piped up, changing the subject.

You were hoping to avoid swapping monster stories for a night. Charlie typically assumed the role of introducing you to popular and noteworthy fandoms during her visits to the bunker and, even if the boys weren’t as vocal, the three of you appreciated her knowledge of all things geeky and nerdy. 

“I was thinking Marvel. Y/N, you’re obviously well-versed in the MCU because of your obsession with Steve Rogers--and, you know, clearly you’ve got a thing for the strong, righteous, self-sacrificing hero type. Dean, you could stand to branch out from the Batman references and, Sam, you’ve got this whole Thor kind of vibe going on.”

While Sam and Dean began teasing each other and arguing over “Batman versus Thor,” you gaped at Charlie, wondering what she’d meant by her remark about you having a “type.” You couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to insinuate something, but you shrugged it off and decided maybe it was all in your head.

***

After getting Charlie settled into one of the extra bedrooms, the four of you settled into the Dean Cave and agreed to start with the first Captain America movie. 

Last Christmas, you and Sam had teamed up to surprise Dean with a couch for the Dean Cave. He had originally only had two La-Z-boy recliners and you’d found him fast asleep in the stiff old chairs on more than one occasion. Dean had been over the moon about the extra seating and the three of you had rearranged the furniture so the recliners were angled toward the tv on either side of the couch.

“Dibs on this side of the couch!” Charlie said, diving toward the furthest end from the door.

Although it was subtle, you knew there was still something off about the way Charlie studied all of you. There was definitely something on her mind she was trying to keep hidden from all of you.

“You know, we should probably have some snacks,” you said slowly. “Charlie, you want to come help me grab some stuff from the kitchen?”

“But I’m already comfy in my spot.” She frowned, wiggling her hips to make a point of sinking deeper into the spot she’d claimed on the couch. “Why don’t you have Dean help you?”

When you narrowed your eyes suspiciously, Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, why don’t I help you grab some snacks while Y/N and Charlie...catch up, er, whatever…”

You heard the boys leave the room and waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before you started interrogating her.

“Alright, Charlie--what the hell is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” she muttered, scrolling through her phone.

“Bull. We lie for a living and I know there’s something you’re not telling us. So spill.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Okay, so remember the Supernatural books by Carver Edlund?”

“Yeah…”

“The series obviously kind of had a cult following when it was in print, right? Well ever since the unpublished works got uploaded, the following has really taken off. Every once in a while a new one still pops up and the fans love them. And you’re in them now too!”

“I’m...what?”

“I mean it’s just insane and totally got sucked into it too. It’s brought on this whole new wave of fanfiction--”

“What’s fanfiction?” you cut in, struggling to keep up.

“It’s fiction made by the fans about the series. Sometimes they put themselves in the stories and write about working cases and fighting monsters with you guys--”

“Why would anyone want to pretend to do this crap with their lives?”

She stared at you for a moment and frowned. “Because you guys are heroes. I mean, yeah, there’s the whole depressing side of monsters and death and trauma and world-ending apocalypses--but you guys save people. You go on these exciting adventures of good versus evil and a lot of times you win. You save people. The fans really look up to all of you.”

Your gaze fell to the floor as you let her words sink in, but she didn’t give you long before she was rambling again.

“But that’s not even the best part! Everyone ships different OTPs--” she paused, noticing your puzzled expression “--uh, one true pairing… So everyone has a favorite couple they think are soulmates and belong together. There’s stories about Sam with Eileen or Jess, Dean with different people--you get the gist. Sometimes they even make up characters or do these ‘reader inserts’ and imagine themselves with the boys or you but, hands down, everyone’s favorite couple they want to end up together is you and Dean.”

“...what?” 

Your eyes grew wide. It was hard enough to wrap your mind around the fact that strangers who didn’t know you were a real person were reading about your life, but learning they imagined you in different relationships? You’d never admit it out loud, but had it bad for Dean. And hearing you weren’t the only one that wanted the two of you together...

“I’ve gone deep into the fic and I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner!” Charlie shook you from your thoughts. “You and Dean are perfect for each other. For serious. I usually stick to the fluffy stuff because, you know, your entire life is kind of angsty and I don’t like to read about you guys being in pain or, like, dying...again. Although I definitely have to admit I kind of stumbled into some of the smutty stuff and, wow, that was something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, but she kept rolling.

“Right, you probably don’t know what that means either. Fluff is the cute stuff that gives us all feels, angst is kind of just what it sounds like, and smut is, well...the sexy stuff.”

“You mean people out there in the world write about me and Dean…”

“Going at it like an episode of Game of Thrones? Oh yeah,” she responded, unlocking her phone. “Here. Here’s an example.”

Swallowing audibly, you took a seat next to her on the couch as she extended her phone toward you. Gnawing your bottom lip, you began reading the words on the screen:

Y/N took a deep breath, holding it in briefly before she exhaled and began walking toward Dean’s room. Ever since they returned from the hunt, Dean had hidden himself away in his room--no doubt blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong.

When she arrived at his door, she raised her hand to knock. She hesitated, almost retreating at the thought of him turning her away, but she had to try. She had to get through to him somehow.

She rapped her knuckles on the raw umber barrier and opened the door of Room 11 before he could tell her to go away. 

She spotted him leaning over the sink, staring at his reflection in the medicine cabinet on the wall. His jade eyes flickered to where she stood in the doorway, their reflection somewhat distorted by cracks that spiderwebbed from where he had struck the mirror.

Her heart seemed to drop into her stomach as she imagined him lashing out, knowing he punched the mirror because he hated the reflection staring back at him. Knowing he always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders when he didn’t need to.

Y/N carefully shut the door and locked it behind her--the click of the deadbolt deafening in the silence. Her eyes never left Dean, who refused to turn and face her. She inched toward him, closing the distance until she could reach out and touch him. Gently placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him to turn away from the mirror. Still, he refused to meet her eyes.

“Dean…” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper as she cupped his face in her hands. “It’s not your fault.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, face contorting with grief and guilt. The ghosts of his past refused to let him go, but she was determined to make him believe that he was worthy, no matter the cost.

Curling a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his head up, waiting patiently for him to meet her gaze. When his dark green orbs finally met hers, she was surprised to see that they were full of longing and desire. They flickered to her lips, making her breath tremble under the intensity of his gaze. Time seemed to slow until it froze altogether.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as they both struggled against their desire to maintain the friendship they’d always had and the desperate need to finally cross that line. To succumb to the magnetic pull that had always been evident between the two of them.

Dean swallowed thickly before suddenly rushing forward, crashing his lips to Y/N’s as he pulled her into a searing kiss. He wrapped his strong arms around her, trapping her to his chest, afraid it was all a dream and she would soon disappear. But she gladly melted into his embrace, feeling like she was finally returning home, to a place she’d spent her life searching for.

A moan slipped past her lips as he walked her backward, pressing her up against the wall. She gasped, feeling his--

“The snacks have arrived!”

You jumped in surprise, a small gasp of surprise escaping as the boys appeared with armloads of snacks. Confusion and worry painted Dean’s face as he surveyed your flustered expression. Between his scrutinizing gaze and the content you’d practically been caught reading, your cheeks grew warm. 

“Did I miss something?” Dean asked.

“Nope,” you responded much too quickly.

Charlie’s phone had fallen into your lap and, when she began cackling, you whipped your head in her direction and flung the phone at her thigh. You grimaced and the two of you had your own silent conversation as the boys spread the food across the bar Dean had built on the far wall.

“I was just telling Y/N how pumped I am about seeing my favorite OTP tonight,” she giggled.

“Your...what?”

Dean’s arm brushed yours as he plopped down on the other side of you. The accidental contact sent a wave of chills over your skin, making you shudder. You could feel his eyes on you again, but you refused to look at him.

“Oh, I’m so going down with this ship,” Charlie whispered under her breath before continuing in a louder voice. “Nothing--nevermind! Don’t mind me, just thinking out loud...”

“It says here an OTP means...one true pairing?” Your eyes grew wide as you looked to where Sam was reading his phone from where he sat in one of the recliners. “So, uh, ‘in the fandom realm, OTP refers to the coupling of characters--usually from the sci-fi or fantasy genres--by fans who think they make a great romantic duo and envision their lives together and share their imaginings with other fans.’”*

Charlie doubled over, beside herself with laughter. With your lips pressed into a firm line, you glanced at the boys to gauge their reactions. You knew there was no way they could possibly know what you and Charlie had been talking about, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about what Dean might think if he ever found out about the feelings you harbored for him. 

“So...you’re looking forward to Cap and his girl in the movie? I’m so freaking confused,” Dean grumbled.

“Yeah…” Sam agreed, making his way to the tv. “I’m just, uh...I’m gonna start the movie now.” 

“Good idea.” Charlie peered at you out of the corner of her eye. “Plenty of time to read and talk about all those ships later.”

Although you glared at her, trying to hide your amusement, nothing could deter the smug smile etched upon her face. As Sam turned the lights off and you settled in for another relaxing night with your favorite people, one thing was certain:

You were definitely going to have to take another look at that fanfiction.

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms​  @amanda-teaches​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @crist1216​  @droidyouseek​  @emoryhemsworth​  @ericaprice2008​  @flawless-disaster​  @janeyboo​  @jenn0755​  @ksgeekgirl​  @maresmiley​  @memyselfandmaddox​  @notyourtypicalrose​  @randomparanoid​  @rynabarnesrogers​  @sandlee44​  @scarletsoldierrr​  @shann-the-artist-moon​  @sheerioasteroidpanda​  @shynara51​  @someday-when-you-leave-me​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​  @thisismysecrethappyplace​  @torntaltos​  @waywardbaby​  @waywardrose13​  @weebid​  @whimsicalrobots​  @wintersoldierbaby​  @wintersoldierissucharide  @yesfanficsaremylife​

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets​  @akshi8278​  @alexwinchester23​  @chevyharvelle​  @deangirl7695​  @dean-winchesters-bacon​  @fandomoniumflurry​  @pisces-cutie​  @supernaturalenchanted​  @superromijn​  @waywardnerd67​  @x-waywardaf-x​

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

The Musician Next Door

[Close enough for me, Gif credit to @jensenacklescious]

Square: Vancouver ( @supernatural-jackles tell a story bingo)

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Summary: The reader is an extra on Supernatural, and has a musical talent. But little did she know her music attracted the attention of her neighbor.

Warnings: Nothing bad, just fluff, sweet music (I recommend searching on YouTube to listen to while reading), and some comedy.

Word Count: 1,860

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: A small teaser of a possible series I have in mind thanks to Jensen’s recent Instagram post. But this is not going to be the series, it’s something similar. But still, I hope you like it. :3

~

She’s always wanted to come to this city. Well she’s always wanted to go to Canada, Vancouver was just the plus side.

And, an ever more plus side was the job she managed to grab. An extra on her favorite show. Supernatural.

Sure it was its last and final season and they were finishing up but with having a limited number of extras due to the pandemic she was one of the few they needed.

She drove down the towns streets, seeing it’s lights shimmer in the night. Making her smile softly at the scenery. Another reason she loved Vancouver. It was such a beautiful city.

She got to her apartment complex, the same one her friend lived in. And she learns quickly who her neighbors are.

After getting rather bored on day 3 into quarantine, she looked at her music set. She knew how to play piano and guitar.

She turns on the electric piano, picking the grand piano setting she begins to play with a few keys. Playing nonsense sounds, but a pleasant melody.

She then began leading into one of her favorites. Her favorite anime show, Inuyasha, playing his lullaby piano song.

Playing at the pace of the song, relaxing as she continued to play. After finishing one verse she began singing lightly with the music.

She began to slow the music as it came to a close. She paused for a brief second before playing more.

She began to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sentra first movement. And blending the end of it with Supernatural’s Dean’s Family Dedication Theme song.

A tear slipping down her cheek as she remembers this is the last time the show will air. She knows how it will end. They all knew. She doesn’t like it, but she didn’t voice it.

She finished the song with a nice peaceful and gentle end. Till her phone buzzed.

“That was beautiful sweetheart, can I make a request?”

The number belonging to Jensen Ackles. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Turns out he was her neighbor. Who would have thought she had an audience of one listening.

“Sure, what would you like to listen to me play…or attempt to play?” she texts back.

She saw him read it quickly before seeing the jumping three dots, showing he’s typing something.

“I am working on a song for my second album, if I send you a sample of it, could you try to bring it to life on the piano?”

Her heart rate skyrocketed. A song that hasn’t even been released yet, but also still in the works she was going to listen to.

“Sure, let me see what you got.” She texts.

He sent her the audio file to her phone promptly, playing it on her headphones, she can hear the notes coming to her.

Giving it a few play throughs, listening intently to the notes on the guitar, his words being sung. She looked at her keys on her piano and began playing around. Until she found the right notes.

Learning the piano, she didn’t learn the traditional way. She taught herself. Just messing around on the family’s grand piano, she learned the simple twinkle little star. Then an armature Amazing Grace. She had an ear for music, she let the music flow through her like wind blowing through her hair. The way the breeze felt on her skin. Making music felt like that to her.

She began playing the song, even singing the song to help her timing with the next verse and the next verse after that.

Once finished, she noticed it had gotten late.

“It was nice playing for you Jay, but I need to head to bed.”

“Okay, goodnight. Sleep well.”

 All throughout quarantine she had been playing with her instruments. Entertaining Jensen mostly, but it also relaxes her.

But on their first day on set, after being tested and gotten the okay to head on the sound stage for blocking she went to see Jensen.

Seeing him and Jared walking together to the sound stage, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at how much like brothers they were.

“There she is the little musician next door.” Jensen says, coming to her, wrapping an arm around her.

“He told me you play piano, do you really?” Jared asked.

“I do a little bit; it’s been a while.”

“Well, it’s like riding a bike. You never forget. You were so good.” Jensen comments.

“Aw, thanks Jay.”

“Got any new songs to play tonight or…can I make a request again?”

“You can always make a request. Besides, I was writing this song and I just need to get the notes right, the words right and then I’m posting it to my YouTube Channel.”

“Doing YouTube now, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m trying it out. I can’t seem to enjoy a single day job I get. I enjoy jobs like this. Acting, where I can tell a story. Writing, where I can create the story. Music, just creating good sounding, relaxing and calming music.”

“You are such an amazing creator; I think you’ll do great as a YouTube creator.”

“You think so?”

“Totally, right Jare?”

“For sure, hey, do vlogging, give us a behind the scenes.”

“I’m not sure about vlogging, that requires being in front of the camera.  And I’m so camera shy.”

“Yet you’re an extra on Supernatural.” Jensen smirks.

“Okay, maybe…I don’t know what it is. But I just don’t want to vlog, okay.”

“It’s okay.” Jared says.

 Later that day, she can’t get her thoughts together back at the apartment. She paced back and forth. From the kitchen to the balcony and back around. She was beyond distracted.

“Jay, are you available for hanging out for a little. I can’t focus.” She texts him.

A moment passes when she thought he might have been busy.

“Yeah, just had to get a pizza out of the oven. Want to come over and just chill for a bit?”

“Sure, I just can’t focus on my music right now.”

“It’s fine. Come on over.”

Putting on her shoes she walks over next door to Jensen’s apartment.

Knocking on the door she hears his dog barking.

“Quiet Icarus.” She could hear him beyond the door shushing his dog. Making her chuckle.

“Hey,” he says opening the door. “Come on in.”

She enters, taking her shoes off at his door.

“Want some pizza?”

“Sure,”

Jensen grabs two plates out, giving each two slices of pizza. And walking over to the couch. Turning on his apple tv.

He turns it onto Netflix, Orange is the new black.

But halfway through his second slice he notices she’s not paying attention to the tv. But instead is looking outside. Eating in silence.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks kindly.

“A lot. Stuff going on at home. This whole YouTube thing being real, I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It just seems like I’m just going with it.”

“Nothing wrong with going with the flow. But, this stuff at home, how bad is it?”

“It’s nothing bad, I can handle it. it just takes a lot of mental power to get myself past it. You know.”

“For sure.”

They sat back in silence.

“Here, how about we go for a little walk on the town. That should help relax you a bit.” Jensen suggests, as he finishes his pizza. Y/N not even halfway through her first slice.

“Where to?”

“Nowhere, just out for a little relaxing walk. Come on, and grab a jacket it’s supposed to be a little chilly.”

 Jensen may not have had a destination in mind, but he knew one place that would help her relax.

The ports, anywhere where there was ocean. He noticed in her posts on Instagram, when she’s at a tropical beach she looks relaxed and at peace with everything. And she knew deep down, once she saw the sun setting by the waters and seeing what they were walking up towards, she knew that he knew.

She felt herself calm at the sight.

“See, you look relaxed already.”

“Thanks Jay, I really appreciated this.”

“It’s not a problem.” he says. Leaning kissing her atop her head with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“That jacket’s not warm enough, is it?”

“No, not really.”

A small shiver shook through her as she said that.

He chuckles. “Lets get you home and warm you up.” he says, leaning in, pecking a sweet kiss on her cheek. A centimeter too close to her lips.

Y/N looked up at him with a smirk.

“What was that?”

“It was a kiss, why…”

“You were a bit close to my lips Jay…are you trying to tell me something?” she gives him a playful smirk.

“Okay,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I may like you, since the first day you and I met on set. You kind of took my breath away.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as her face heated up at the comment. Making Jensen smile with a chuckle.

“I, uh…I like you too Jay. I thought it might be a crush thing but, it just wouldn’t shake. I really, really like you.”

Jensen had a smile that went from ear to ear. He brought her in a tight embrace, holding her close.

“I know what you’ve been through. And I want to be there for you, to help you through it all.” He says.

“Thank you Jay, I want to be there for you too.” She says.

She pulls away slightly to look up at him. She could see his eyes glide down from her eyes to her lips as he slowly leans in. Planting a soft kiss fully on her lips.

Their lips moving in a soft dance with each other, his tongue grazing her bottom lip silently asking for permission. She parts her lips at the right moment to allow him in and dominate her mouth in the kiss.

Just when their kiss grew hungry, and their skin began to heat up at the attraction and arousal.

“Finally!”

They pulled away, stunned at the exclamation. Seeing Jared walking down the sidewalk, facetime on revealing Misha.

“It’s about time you two got together!” Misha shouted on the phone.

Y/N’s face heated up once again, hiding against Jensen’s chest. Jensen chuckling.

“Yeah, finally you two can stop with the longing stares and the…does she like me? Does he like me?” Jared says.

“How’d you know we came down here?”

“I didn’t, I saw you and I saw her, and I couldn’t help myself.” Jared smiled.

The couple chuckling.

“You two were being such idiots.”

“Well, we can be idiots together, now, do you mind?” Jensen says.

“Oh, right, get back to making out with your girl. See you two on set, you better have hickey’s to show for it!” Jared shouts as he walks away.

Jensen and Y/N just rolling their eyes, giving each other a quick chaste kiss before walking back to the apartment.

Only he walked back with her to her apartment and sat with her as she played her music, even joining in turning it into a sweet duet.

~

a/n: What’d you think? Let me know, feedback is always appreciated.

~

Dean/Jensen Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @megzdoodle, @anotherspnfanfic, @misfit0118, @shawnie74, @missmemoire09, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @lyarr24​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/17/2021

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry. 

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured. 

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing. 

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing. 

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever. 

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive. 

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play. 

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly. 

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home. 

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile. 

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made. 

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine. 

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers. 

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had. 

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve. 

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full. 

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it. 

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something. 

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.  

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?” 

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up. 

------------------------

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run. 

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways. 

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal. 

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

-------------------------

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat. 

------------------------

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

--------------------

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

----------------------

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop. 

He missed his soulmate. 

----------------------

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in. 

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing. 

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

-----------------------

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that. 

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut. 

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

--------------------

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon. 

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway. 

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue. 

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy… 

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision. 

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close. 

Part 3 HERE

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