#what a time to be caught up too!!! truly seems like we're gonna start getting some Answers.....!

[piratespencil]

Just read chapter 1111 today!! Which means that, for the first time in like ten years, I'm finally caught up on One Piece again... 🎉🎉🎉

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | extras | Yn tells Lewis she's dating Mick

― Summary: Yn and Mick finally broke the friendship barrier and started something else. It's time Yn tells her brother what's going on between her and his teammate. ― Word count: 1k ― A/n: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it’s better when you’ve read the series. ― Warnings: curse words; mention of anxiety; typos - not proofread.

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There was a knock at Lewis' hotel door and he rushed to open it, confusion written on his face since nobody told him someone would show up. The second he opened the big wooden door he smiled, though it only lasted for the blink of an eye because he quickly gathered how Yn seemed apprehensive.

His sister was wearing one of his Merc white shirts paired with sweatpants and slippers. Her curls were up in her head messily gathered together by a colorful hair tie.

"Hey, bitsy, what's up?" he asked while opening the door wider for her to get inside. Yn did exactly that, running to one of the big armchairs in the room and folding herself there like a cat would.

"How would you feel if I told you I'm dating someone?" She asked before Lewis could say anything else. That was his sister, she would rush through things when nervous, too many expectations would make her feel sick and Yn hated feeling sick, so it was normal for her to just blurt her questions or confessions whenever something important was on the line, just like she was doing at the moment.

Lewis arched his brows, "Ok, I guess, as long as you're happy. But do you think you're ready for a new relationship?" he asked genuinely interested in her answer.

"I don't know, but I really like him, Lew. And I always wanna be around him, it's just...I- mhm I've never felt like this before." She confessed, eyes cast down. It wasn't that Yn was afraid of Lewis judging her because he would never, but he was her older brother and she held his opinion on the highest space. She was just afraid to let him down.

"I'm happy for you guys, then. Is Mick going to tell me too or-"

"Wait! How'd you know it's Mick?" Yn eyed Lewis up and down and he gave her one of his signature laughs.

"You think you're folling people? Be for real, Yn. Everyone knows or suspects. And even if you weren't obvious, I'm your older brother, I know you. I knew you were interested in him from day one didn't I?"

Yn huffed, rolled her eyes, got up, and then crashed on the oldest Hamilton hugging him.

"Thank you. I was a bit taken aback, afraid you were gonna be mad because I kind of promised to stay away."

"I knew if you truly liked him you wouldn't be able to stay away, bitsy."

She breathed in his scent and took a step back. Lewis caught a single tear on her cheek and held her face with both of his hands.

"You're safe with me. Spill it," his gentle tone made yet another tear roll down, and Yn chuckled holding back a sob.

"I'm afraid." Her voice was a weak whisper, but the British heard her perfectly. "I think things may be happening too fast, and I want them to go like this, but I'm also scared of all the attention we're getting. I mean, everyone is talking about us, and we haven't even started dating officially. I'm scared of how this can go and I don't want you to be caught in the crossfire, Lew. The media is always looking for things to point out when you're the subject and I-"

"Hey, breathe." Lewis held her face tighter as if by doing so he was holding her together too. Yn closed her eyes, breathed in and out following his lead, and then they sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't worry about me. I'm the oldest. I can take care of myself." There was a hint of humor in his comment and Yn chuckled.

"I know, but-"

"No, Bitsy. No buts. Stop worrying about me. I'm happy you're with Mick. If I had to choose a guy from the Grid it would most likely be him. I've seen the way he treats you and how careful he is with you. He's a good guy. Please, don't let your anxiety get in the way. People will talk about us it doesn't matter if we do things right or wrong, at the end of the day, you do what you gotta do to be happy, you hear me?"

Yn nodded, tears flowing down her face again. "Thank you, Lew."

"You don't have to thank me, Yn. I always going to have your back. Now, where's your phone, I wanna talk to your boyfriend."

She rolled her eyes chuckling, "he's not my boyfriend...we haven't discussed titles yet."

"You two are so oblivious," Lewis rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and unlocked Yn's phone, "if you change your password to his birthday instead of mine, I will be hurt," he tried to lighten the mood again, already searching through her contacts for the Schumacher's name.

"Hey, Mick...Can you come to my room real quick? I gotta talk to you...Yeah, my sister is crying here, and...yeah...yeah...I'm waiting."

"What the heck, Lewis?!" Yn screeched and Lewis just laughed.

It was barely a minute after and there were frantic knocks at the door. Lewis got up to answer and Yn buried her face in her hands, embarrassed by whatever prank her brother wanted to throw.

When Mick got inside he had his cheeks flushed from using the stairs and eyes wide, "what happened?" he asked and Lewis crossed his arms trying to hold back his laughter.

"Nothing, Mick. I told him about us and he wanted to prank you or embarrass us together, I dunno," Yn got up from the bed and she smiled at his reluctant face. His eyes were traveling between the siblings, but his body was turned in Yn's direction.

"Well, there goes my older brother's fun," the Hamilton sighed, and Yn rolled her eyes yet again that night, walking to Mick and hugging him. "Welcome to the family, Schumacher," Lewis smiled at the blonde.

"I'm sorry to inform you that it can get crazier than this." Yn adverted.

"I won't mind it if it means I got you," he whispered and she smiled.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: It's been forever since I last updated it, but I'm gonna start working on it, I promiseeee <3 we're having this series finished in no time! I hope you guys liked this extra, let me know your thoughts by leaving a comment/ask and reblogging *mwah*.

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[dearmura]

horror movies w riki

☆ c.w. not proofread oops

☆ pairings. bf! riki × fem! reader

☆ genre. fluff, crack, established relationship

"riki I swear to God if you burn the popcorn again I'm gonna start thinking you're doing it on purpose" teasing the boy from your comfy corner of the couch, you only giggle as you hear his little stomps coming closer to the living room from the kitchen, the popcorn rustling in its bowl

"did not" he humphs, crossing his arms with a pout you knew very well was fake

"yeah yeah big boy come here" you feign annoyance but the smile on your face gives you away. meanwhile, the boy seemed to think this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you, laying fully on top of you as if he wasn't a foot taller and however many pounds heavier

"riki get off me you little-"

"little what? whatcha gonna do about it?" there's a hint of playfulness in his tone you knew all too well. the boy sure loves to test your patience. but before he would actually get his ass whooped, he situates himself in front of you as you laid on your side, his head resting back on your stomach as your legs intertwined in his

"what are we watching and no we're not watching home alone for the umpteenth time" you feel the boy's low chuckle from underneath you

"how about a horror movie" and though you weren't the hugest fan of the genre, there was no way you could say no to those puppy eyes looking up at you. he really did have pretty privilege

"fine, just 'cause you're adorable" you whisper out the last part, knowing it would only get into the boy's head. rustling his blonde locks, he hums contently at how spoiled he was being treated today

placing a peck on your tummy, he wiggles contently as he scrolls through the catalog of movies

☆

now with your arm stuck in those of 'the beast,' riki has now inched impossibly closer to you as he uses your trapped arm as a shield from any jump scares, leaving you to scoff, pausing the movie

"noo, baby, it was just getting good" the boy whines pulling at your sleeves like a child

"what has gotten into you riki, you normally love horror movies and are already on my ass about it, but look at you now" you giggle, caressing the boy's cheek as he shamelessly leans into your touch, allowing realization to hit you like a truck. you coo at the thought as you give the boy scritchies onto his scalp

"does my baby boy want attention? is that it?" the boy's eyes widen at the realization that he'd been caught. he is quick to deny and pull away for a second to protest when he eventually gives in, placing your hand back on his scalp for you to continue your ministrations

"you're a big baby you know?" you relish in this moment as you finally get to tease the boy without any repercussions, aka tickling

"mmm your big baby" the boy corrects, only nuzzling into your stomach, your body heat along with the attention leaving him in such a state of euphoria that he doesn't even care to protest

it was moments like these that you were reminded that, behind this playful boy you loved was truly just a boy who wished to be loved

fin

a.n: have I mentioned I love clingy boys

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Elevator

can you imagine the sheer chaos that would happen if Thomas (and therefore, all the sides) got stuck in an elevator? – amateurmasksmith

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don't care

Word Count: 1364

The five stages of grief, as explored through what happens when you get stuck in an elevator.

    Denial

  "No," Virgil groans, slamming his head against the wall, "there's no way we're stuck in an elevator."

"Of course not." Logan folds his hands patiently. "We heard this elevator move, it clearly had to travel to reach the floor we were on, so we are not stuck in an elevator, it is simply delayed."

"That's right!" Patton claps his hands. "All we have to do is wait for it to start moving."

They wait. And wait. And keep waiting.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Roman says after they've waited for a considerable amount of time, "but, uh, we don't really seem to be moving all that much."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Janus drawls, leaning against the wall next to Virgil and examining his fingernails, even though he's wearing gloves, "this is clearly the fastest elevator I've ever been on. Truly, I don't know how your ears haven't popped yet."

"Oh my god, will you shut up?"

"What was that, Virgil? Sorry, I can't hear you over how fast we're going."

"Guys," Logan interrupts, "enough. We just have to be patient."

          2. Anger

  "How in the hell did this elevator manage to break while we're on it?"

"This is ridiculous," Logan mutters, beginning to tap his fingers against his wrist, "do they not think people have places to be? How are we expected to make our appointments if we are stuck in this infuriatingly small metal box?"

"They really should pay more attention to them," Patton agrees, crossing his arms too, "after all, what if someone got really stuck in here? Or if it got caught between floors?"

"Not helping, Pop Star," Virgil growls, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Oh, sorry, kiddo."

"Well, clearly we have to recommend this place to everyone," Janus drawls, but a hint of steel undercuts the worst of the sarcasm, "for their stellar service and impeccable elevators."

Virgil grits his teeth and thunks his head back against the wall again. "I swear to god, I'm gonna punch our way out of here in a moment if this thing doesn't start fucking moving."

"You'll just hurt your hands, pry the doors open instead."

"Roman, no—"

Roman's fist slams into the wall with a thud. When he looks up, Patton makes a noise and takes step back.

"This elevator," he snarls, "better start fucking moving."

          3. Bargaining

  "What if I cut the cables?"

Patton yelps and Virgil swears as Remus drops down from the ceiling, looking far too eager and holding way too many tools. "Don't scare us like that, Remus?"

"And also don't kill us," Janus remarks, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder before he can get all the way to the control panel on the side, "we are still in the elevator."

"We can fix that!"

"For fuck's sake—no, Remus!"

"Language," Patton calls from where he's hiding behind Logan.

Virgil shoots forward to muscle Remus away from the elevator's control panel too, knocking some of the tools out of his arms and helping Janus hold him against the wall. "Stop it, Remus, you're scaring Patton."

"I should be scaring this elevator, but if the beast won't give up its guts, I'll eviscerate the monster!"

"It's an elevator, dude, calm down."

"I don't think asking Remus to calm down is going to work, Virge."

          4. Depression

  "What's the point," Roman groans, making everyone look around for him before realizing he's sitting on the floor, "what's the point in trying to ask him to calm down, what's the point of trying to get out of here? We're not going to make it in time, we're just going to be stuck in this elevator forever and we'll die of being stuck in a metal box."

"Roman," Logan says, surprisingly gently, "don't think like that, it's going to be alright."

"You said it yourself, Specs!" Roman throws his arms out. "We've already missed the bus by now, and the next one won't get us there in time. We missed it, it's over, we don't have another shot at it."

His face crumples miserably and Remus sags, letting Janus and Virgil wrestle the rest of his tools out of his grip before wriggling free of them himself. He scurries across the elevator to crouch next to Roman's side. Roman looks up with his eyes welling up with tears and Remus sits down, holding out his arms and letting his brother bury his face in the crook of his neck.

"Hey, Roro, it's gonna be okay," he murmurs, rubbing his back, "it's okay, Ro-Bro, it's okay."

"It's not," Roman sobs, "it's not okay! We worked so hard on this, Re, and now—and now—"

"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay, Roro, you're okay. I gotcha, okay? I'm right here."

The elevator fills with the soft sounds of Roman crying, even as he tries to bumble through apologies for being so emotional, or getting so upset, only for Remus to shush him and the others to follow suit.

"It's alright to be upset, Roman," Logan says softly, crouching by the two of them and reaching out to card his fingers through Roman's hair, "just give yourself a minute."

Roman sniffles and nuzzles against Remus's shoulder.

          5. Acceptance

  It takes Roman a little longer to compose himself, but Remus just holds him until he sags into his arms and bonks their heads together affectionately.

"You feeling a little better, Roro?"

"I mean," Roman sniffs, "not really, but I'm not going to cry anymore."

He looks up at the others, at their concerned faces and small smiles, and he sighs.

"Guess we're just stuck in here until someone comes to get us, right?"

Virgil slumps down in the opposite corner, an odd mish-mash of limbs and hoodie as he toys with the strings. "Yep. Guess so."

Janus sighs dramatically—which is saying something, seeing as both Creativity Brothers look at him as though they think he's being excessive—and slinks to the floor in a way that would make most animated Disney villains jealous. He props one knee up and flounces against the railing, looking every bit the inconvenienced overlord until Remus reaches out and pokes him in the ribs. Then he hisses and curls up into a more normal seated position and Remus cackles.

"Well, we might as well get comfy," Patton says, sitting down too, "who knows how long we're gonna be in here?"

"Until someone else notices the elevator is broken, I guess."

"We should play a game!"

"No," Janus groans, "no games."

"Ooh, what about Find The Organ?"

"No, Remus."

"I don't think I know that one, what's—" Patton squeaks as his hand claps itself over his mouth.

"I'm saving you from a far worse fate," Janus says gravely, with a look of utmost sincerity and honesty on his face, "trust me."

          +1. Realization

  Logan's deep sigh from the other side of the elevator draws their attention. Roman frowns as he sees Logan take off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Logan? You okay?"

"What's up, L," Virgil asks too when Logan doesn't respond, "is something wrong?"

Logan still doesn't say anything. After another moment of the others trying to figure out what's got him so upset, he replaces his glasses with a forced calm and reaches out.

The button glows.

The elevator rumbles and lurches into motion.

"Whoa, Logan!" Patton scrambles to his feet. "You fixed it!"

"Wait, wait, what?" Remus gets up too. "How did you do that?"

"He's Logan," Janus says, getting up as though it was his idea to sit down in the first place, which it was, but out of necessity, not choice, "are you surprised?"

Virgil narrows his eyes at Logan's back for a moment before he bursts out laughing. "Wait, did no one push the button when we got in?"

Logan's silence is telling.

"Oh my god—"

"What the fuck—"

"How the hell did no one—"

"Remus!"

"What did I do?"

The elevator carries its passengers down to the lobby, rumbling and whirring all the way.

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[vitchimage]

—Lies 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Your beloved husband finally gets caught up by his past mistakes, choking on his own lies.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Type: Angst, hurt/comfort(?), open ending

Warning: suggestive so a tad bit NSFW (MDNI), Cheating, arguing, small cursing

A/N: Lyrics by MARINA, Lies.

Here you guys were. In the livingroom of a shared penthouse of you both.

Screaming, shouting for the millionth time deep into the night.

“He's just a friend, Y/N! God!" Nanami states for the hundreds of times, like it would change anything you had to say in this, he was fed up about this.

And all honestly, you were getting tired of arguing about the same thing all the time as well.

"But you like him more as a friend right?!" You shout back at him, your hand running roughly through your hair.

His brows furrows further, "What the hell are you saying?! Are you listening to yourself?!"

"AM I LISTENING TO MYSELF?! I'M NOT THE ONE WHO LIES IN SOMEONE'S ARMS WHILE YOUR WIFE WAITS FOR YOU BACK AT HOME!" You threw the nearest thing you could get your hands on. The picture of your marriage falls to the floor, shattering to pieces.

Looking at it felt sickening, remembering his broken vow and all his unkempt promise. The smiles on the picture, you remember so vivid how happy you both were — it all seemed so fake now. What was even real up until now?

What's the point of sayin' it's never gonna end?

Nanami remains quiet, either stunned or trying to find a way to calm his wife down, to make a feeble excuse that would save them both.

"You didn't think I would find out about your little affair?" You huffed, holding your figure, "Well news flash sherlock I did, the day I said I would come home late due to work, yeah, I heard it all."

Another strike, he was taking in the information, another silence.

You're too proud to say you made a mistake.

"GOD DAMMIT, SAY SOMETHING NANAMI!"

The silence from him was killing you.

Nanami isn't even looking at you, rather on the floor, the broken picture of you both.

You're a coward till the end.

"Well, maybe if you weren't fighting, complaining, being so needy and clingy all the time, maybe this wouldnt happen!"

You scoffed, the words hurts you more than you thought they would.

"Are you seriously blaming me for your affair?!"

"I don't want to admit, but we're not gonna fit."

He let it slip past his lips, instantly wanting to take those words back, despite how nonchalant it sounded. He didn't mean any words of it. He never will. It was all a lie from his side, trying to protect himself.

Cause in all honesty, he loved it.

He loved the way you were always by his side, the way you would cling to him, the way you would talk about your day, your touch was heacrn, the sound of your voice was what held him down, being in your presence was like a blessing. Even your little flaws. He loves every single one of them, every single part of you.

He didn't know what he was trying to imply right then and there when saying that. Nor did he know why he was hurting you like this by sleeping with his bestfriend behind your back.

You voice is uncontrollably shaky,

"No, I'm not the type that you like."

The image of him and Yu Haibara together flashed your mind, and you cover your mouth to choke on another sob.

Times where he said he had to leave because his very bestfriend needed him, times where he would come home so late into the night due to work, times where he dismissed at the idea of taking a break, but the moment Yu did, he immediately took one, taking a vacation with him.

Times where you needed him the most he wasn't there but rather in another man's arms, times you asked a bit of his time but he always refused giving it to Yu instead. Everything started building up.

At first you thought he was just a friend, and you were sure it, but Nanami started to grow so distant he became a stranger to you. And you started to wonder if all the late night calls, all the love he showed you was ever even truly real or all a play. And the doubt of Yu being just a friend clouded your mind.

So you lied to his face saying you would be home quite late, when you were leaving much earlier than he expected.

And it confirmed your suspicion — the moans from the bedroom was loud and clear.

You slid against the wall at that moment, your legs giving out as you held your head, trying not to scream, to shout, to cry that day, as the moans just continued endlessly — confirming his betrayal to your marriage without knowing you were there.

"Fucking asshole."

Wiping your tears, you immediately grabbed the keys to the car and putting on some shoes.

"Y/N.." He called out to you, the same shaky voice you had.

Why don't we just pretend?

And you, wanted to turn, to hold him and say its going to be alright, that you both can fix this.

But his past mistakes has finally caught up to him, giving a taste of the consequence he reaped.

"Don't go.."

Turn, answer him.

But you don't, you finally got the shoes on, heading towards the exit — leaving him.

He was fast, Nanami immediately takes you by the arm, holding you from behind, the rain drenches both of you just before the door.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.. Please don't leave, please don't. It's my fault, it's all my fault not yours, I know my mistakes, I won't do it again, I'll change..I-"

He was blabbering words of apologies, regrets and guilt tasted on his tongue and the sound of it.

You wanted to believe those words, but why was it so diffucult to do so? To save this broken marriage..

"LIES!" You lashed out, trying pry his arms away away but he held you tighter.

"You love him, Nanami, you don't love me." it hurts, "Atleast not anymore."

"Don't say that, it's not true.."

"Then why?! WHY DID YOU-"

Don't wanna know, dont wanna know, oh.

"I don't know." an honest answer from him, "Everything was in the heat of the moment and it just kept going..but I don't love him, Y/N, I love you..Just you.. "

Your hand flies to your mouth like you were going to puke again, the thought of him in someone else's arms all this time was killing you.

Their moans in your shared bedroom was living rent free in your mind, repeating over and over again — on how good he felt, how well his bestfriend took his cock.

The very same words Nanami had once said to you in bed.

You closed your eyes shut, crying silently into your hand.

I can't let you go, can't let you go, oh

Despite all this, you find it hard to walk away from his strong arms that used to feel like home. To let him go.

And he felt the same, he didn't want to let you go. He was desperate on not letting you go.

He wanted this fix this, to show you he can learn from his past mistake and love you the way you deserved to. To be happy, the both of you.

"I just want it to be perfect," You choke out as he rest his head against your shoulder, his eyes closing shut as to stop the tears from falling, "To believe it's all been worth the fight."

But was it worth it now? To fight for a relationship that was filled lies?

Don't wanna know, dont wanna know, oh

-END-

m.list

[lemurlegs]

Bewitched

Hello everybody I'm finally back with a new chapter, I'm sorry it took so long, I had difficulty writing it, and i was a bit busy too. Anyways this chapter is longer. It explores a lot of things Ginger has done in her past, and we're gonna learn about the powers we possess.

Wordcount: 8.6k

Warning: murder, ritualistic sacrifice, cannibalism

Previous chapter

Chapter 5.

Dreams and powers

Alastors pov 

After a whole day of dealing with his wayward contracts, while his body didn't show it, he felt exhausted. He was ready to head back to the hotel and relax near his bayou.

As soon as he manifested in the living room, he caught sight of everyone sitting in a circle on the floor. Charlie immediately jumped up and greeted him, asking if he wanted to join their group activities.

Alastor wanted to refuse; he was tired and rarely felt the need to join in the silly exercises Charlie hosted. But before he could finish his sentence, she cut him off, explaining that they were sharing stories about their pasts and it was currently Ginger's turn. More information? How convenient.

He walked towards the group and settled on the couch next to them. No way in hell would the Radio Demon sit on the floor like some common sinner, he had a reputation to uphold. As he crossed his legs and got comfortable, after that he told Ginger to continue.

She started explaining that she had no idea why she ended up in Hell.

Alastor was confused, tilting his head at her comment. At the cafe that morning, she had mentioned using her womanly charm to manipulate men and hinted that she sometimes killed those she deemed worthy. To him, that seemed like a pretty obvious reason to be sent down here.

Charlie asked her to clarify.

"I mean that I don't think I'm innocent or something; I just don't know which of my sins got me here.” she shrugged. Answering nonchalantly.

At that, Angel Dust suggested she list her sins to figure out which one got her sent to Hell. Alastor was ecstatic; maybe her sins would explain her strange magical knowledge, and he might even learn what happened to her the day before, when she got attacked.

But as soon as he got his hopes up, Ginger quickly dismissed the idea. However, her response only made him more curious. A list of sins so long it would take hours to go over? Hoho, don't threaten him with a good time. 

That's when Alastor realized something. If she truly had committed so much evil, how did she manage it in such a short time? Not that he would ask a woman her age, of course—that would be ill-mannered—but she didn't look more than 27, but of course looks can be deceiving.

As he snapped out of his thoughts, he realized they had moved on to another topic. Charlie suggested that everyone name three things they were good at or enjoyed doing.

Angel's response made him grimace with disgust. The perverted spider always has a way of dampening his mood. He was listening to the group name their likes and talents, seemingly bored by how uninteresting they were. That's when he saw Ginger get excited about Husker's response.

“Magic, you say? What kind of magic?” her eyes were shimmering hopefully with a hint of excitement as she leaned towards the barcat.

Her happiness was short-lived when Husk clarified he was talking about card tricks.

Hmm, so she is indeed interested in magic. Maybe she's a practitioner. Or she could just be curious because of her attackers, since they clearly used magic on her. But how could she get herself in a situation like that on her first day? I mean, he knew this was hell but still. Maybe she knew her perpetrators? He shook off that though for now. Instead he began wondering about what kind of demon powers she might have and thought of ways to make her use them. That is, if she even knows she has them. Hmm, he hadn't considered that.

But Alastor didn’t have time to dwell on the topic any longer since it was now Ginger’s turn to share.

“Okay. Well, let’s see. I really like history, particularly the 1920s. I enjoy reading and I like singing. 

Particularly the 1920s? My, my, isn’t that interesting—a sinner as young as her interested in history, especially a time when he was alive? That's a rare sight.

After she finished, it was his turn. As he explained his love for jazz and cooking, as well as torturing souls, everyone fell silent at that of course, he sure loved getting a reaction from the crowd. Charlie quickly tried to salvage the situation and decided to call it a night.

Before they could leave, Ginger reminded everyone that Alastor hadn't answered the first question. Everyone was shocked by her boldness, even Alastor. He couldn't decide if it was boldness or foolishness.

To ask such a thing from him, the feared overlord, the master tormentor, the Radio Demon—it took guts, he had to admit that. He decided to humor her forwardness.

"My, my, quite bold, are we?" he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Well, if you must know, I was a serial killer in the 1920s, cleaning the streets of New Orleans. I'm quite certain that's why I'm here." He said proudly. 

As Alastor observed Ginger's serene smile and listened to her nonchalant acceptance of violence against the cruel and wicked, he felt an unfamiliar sensation stirring within him. It was a peculiar mix of intrigue, admiration, and something else—something he couldn't quite place.

The idea that someone shared his perspective on the nature of sin and punishment was undeniably intriguing to Alastor. Here stood someone who not only understood his worldview but embraced it. How exciting.

After this pleasant surprise, everyone left to retire for the night. Ginger walked to the kitchen for a quick dinner. This was the perfect opportunity to set his plan to discover her powers in motion. He used his shadow magic to warp behind her, ready to spook her, when she greeted him without even looking.

How in the ever-loving hell did she know he was there?—he thought. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer to her, looking down at the fox demon who is so full of secrets. 

When he asked, she gave an unsatisfactory response: a lucky guess. He almost rolled his eyes at that. Right, like he would believe that. He'd find out soon enough.

Alastor then began his plan. First step: getting her out of the hotel. That should be easy enough. He owned her, after all; she needed to listen to him.

“I need you to pick up some fresh cuts of meat from the butcher for me tomorrow. I'll write down the address for you.”

He conjured a notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the location, when she gave him a skeptical response and questioned his intentions. This made him a little annoyed. Who was she to question him? She had no right. He owned her.

He reminded her that her curiosity would get her in trouble if she kept asking more questions. She responded with sass. Oh, that’s it. He had been nice, but she needed to be taught a lesson. After all, he was the one in charge here—she needed to learn some respect.

Alastor threatened her, turning into his more demonic form, getting up in her face and telling her it was best if she did what she was told.

And to that, she didn't even flinch, as if she wasn't standing in front of a terrifying, cruel overlord. Giving a nonchalant response, she agreed, but it left him confused as to why she didn't react. Most demons would be cowering away in fear by now.

He wrote down the location and left her. He needed to think about the next steps of his plan. Once in his room, he lit the fireplace and sank down in his chair.

Step one was completed; now it was time for phase two. Once she went to pick up the meat as he asked, he planned to send one of his rowdy souls after her. He'd send those souls who had tested his patience, a lesson long overdue, he thought. And if she tore them apart? Well, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he hoped she did.

"Oh, how I wonder what kind of powers she has," he thought out loud. 

As Alastor's thoughts drifted towards Ginger's potential powers, he couldn't help but imagine the myriad ways they could be utilized to his advantage. Each possibility sparked a new wave of excitement, fueling his curiosity and ambition.

He envisioned Ginger wielding elemental magic, conjuring flames to engulf their enemies or summoning storms to wreak havoc upon their foes. With such power at his disposal, he could easily dominate the battlefield, using the forces of nature to bend his enemies to his will.

Or perhaps Ginger possessed the ability to manipulate minds, weaving illusions to deceive their adversaries or bending their thoughts to her whim. With such a power, she could infiltrate the minds of anybody.

Alastor's mind raced with possibilities, each scenario more tantalizing than the last. As he contemplated the many ways Ginger's powers could benefit him, Alastor's ambition burned brighter than ever before. With her by his side, he could ascend to even greater heights of power and influence, his name echoing throughout the halls of Hell as a force to be reckoned with. But first, he needed to uncover the truth about Ginger's abilities, and he was determined to do whatever it took to unlock her secrets.

After about some time he decided to check up on her room.

Maybe he could reveal something about her. After all, a person's room often tells a lot about them. He rose from his seat, left his room, and began approaching Ginger's room.

As Alastor strode through the dimly lit corridors of the hotel, his shadow danced eagerly along the walls, its form undulating and twisting with an otherworldly grace. It moved in tandem with Alastor's every step, a silent companion that mirrored his movements with uncanny precision.

As they approached Ginger's room, the shadow seemed to pulse with anticipation, its movements quickening with an eager anticipation. It hovered near the door, casting a dark silhouette against the wood as if eager to delve into the mysteries that lay beyond.

Alastor's voice echoed softly in the corridor, his words punctuated by a faint chuckle that reverberated through the air. As he spoke, his shadow danced eagerly beside him, its movements fluid and graceful.

"She's very interesting, isn't she?" Alastor mused aloud, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "So full of secrets, and the longer I observe, the more questions appear."

His shadow seemed to sway in agreement, its form pulsating with a silent energy as if echoing Alastor's sentiments. 

Together, they stood outside Ginger's room, the anticipation palpable in the air as Alastor prepared to delve into the mysteries that laid beyond.

Holding his ear up to the door, he listened for any signs that might indicate she was still awake. Upon hearing light snoring, his smile widened. He began fading away into the shadows. Now in his dark incorporeal state, he reached under the doorway, trying to slide into the room. But as soon as he began slipping in, some sort of strong force ejected him. It was as if the very fabric of the magic repelled his intrusion, rejecting his shadowy essence with a forceful expulsion.

Thrown back against the opposite wall, Alastor's incorporeal form recoiled from the impact, momentarily stunned by the unexpected counterattack. Undeterred by the initial setback, Alastor attempted to regather his composure and make another attempt. Yet with each subsequent effort, the resistance only grew stronger, the strange magic proving to be a formidable obstacle to his shadowy form's entry. What the hell did she do to block HIS magic?

He started reforming into his physical form, clenching his fists in frustration. Stepping up to the door, he hovered his hand over it. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus, to see if he could feel anything magical. Surely enough, he began sensing a very strong locking seal on the entrance.

Opening his eyes, he began trying to reveal it. Maybe if he recognized the sigil, he could find a way to break it. The hand that was hovering over the door began to glow a soft green. Lifting his hand, he started moving it all around the wood, hoping to find the sigil's location.

As his hand reached the top of the door, a violet-colored glowing sigil revealed itself. So it was one hundred percent confirmed: Ginger was indeed someone who knew her way around magic. Judging by the fact that he couldn't recognize the marking, the lock kept him from entering, and the magic seal felt powerful. He knew she wasn't just some small fry witch—oh no, she was very strong. After all, keeping the Radio Demon out from anywhere was certainly an accomplishment.

As Alastor scrutinized the violet-colored sigil, he felt a palpable sense of power emanating from it. It wasn't just a simple ward; it was a formidable barrier, intricately woven with layers of protective magic. Each line and curve of the sigil seemed to pulse with energy, repelling any attempt to breach its defenses.

As he attempted to unravel the sigil's enchantments, he encountered resistance at every turn. It was as if the magic itself resisted his intrusion, pushing back against his efforts with a stubborn resilience. No matter how he tried to manipulate it, the sigil held firm, its protective barrier unyielding.

Frustration simmered beneath Alastor's calm exterior as he grappled with the realization that he was facing a foe of considerable power. The locking magic was not just keeping him out of the room; it was actively thwarting his attempts to understand it, a testament to Ginger's formidable abilities. With a sigh, Alastor withdrew his hand, acknowledging defeat for the time being. 

As he turned away from the door, his mind raced with possibilities. What other secrets lay hidden within Ginger's room, and what could they reveal about her true nature? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: Ginger was not to be underestimated.

He started feeling glad he didn't eat her when he found her. But it made him wonder.

What else could she do?

Ginger's pov

As you slip into an unconscious state, it's as if you're descending into a soft, ethereal mist, cocooning you in its gentle embrace. Weightlessness overtakes your body, as if gravity has released its hold on your body. With each passing moment, your senses become hyper-aware, amplifying every sound, touch, and scent, pulling you deeper into the enchanting realm of dreams.

Once you fall completely asleep you find yourself surrounded by an ocean of blackness. As you swim through the boundless void, your mind clears like the dissipating mist, allowing you to focus with newfound clarity. 

With a whispered command of your imagination, the shapeless expanse begins to ripple and shimmer, as if responding to your words.

Slowly at first, tendrils of color emerge, painting delicate hues upon the empty canvas. Shades of emerald green intertwine with the deepest ebony, weaving a tapestry of shadows and light. The void trembles with anticipation, eager to take form under the spell of your creative will.

As your focus on the image you're trying to create the transformation quickens, and before your eyes, the formless void begins to coalesce into solid substance. Trees materialize from the darkness, their gnarled branches reaching skyward like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets of the forest.

Leaves unfurl in a symphony of verdant whispers, and the earth beneath your feet takes shape, soft and yielding to your touch. The air thrums with the pulse of life, carrying the scent of moss and damp earth on its invisible currents.

With a final surge of energy, the metamorphosis is complete—a dense, dark forest now stretches as far as the eye can see, its canopy of foliage obscuring the starry sky above. 

Stepping onto solid ground, you feel the damp earth beneath your feet, and the cool breeze blowing through your ginger hair. Your senses are immediately drawn to a soft, white glow hovering just ahead. The orb emits a gentle luminescence, casting flickering shadows upon the towering trees surrounding you. The orb floats effortlessly ahead of you, leading you deeper into the heart of the forest. As you follow its gentle guidance, the dense foliage begins to thin, revealing a clearing bathed in the silvery light of the full moon.

At the center of the clearing, you pause, mesmerized by the celestial beauty above. And as you gaze upon the luminous orb hovering before you, a presence begins to materialize—the figure of the Goddess emerges from the ethereal glow, her presence commanding the space around her. She is adorned with long, flowing black hair that cascades around her like wispy shadowy tendrils, moving with an otherworldly grace.

Upon her forehead, a shimmering moon sigil gleams with an ancient power, marking her as a divine being of lunar origin. Her long flowy dress, a radiant silver hue, seems to shimmer and glow, its incorporeal form appearing almost ghostly against the backdrop of the night.

She floats effortlessly above the forest floor, her gaze fixed upon you with eyes that are completely white, devoid of iris or pupils.

Surrounding her is a dark aura, vast and impenetrable, swirling with an intensity that speaks of depths unknown. She is the embodiment of darkness itself, not in its malevolent sense, but as its keeper.

She is Mona, the Moon Goddess. 

When she fully manifests before you, you bow to the powerful Goddess. As you raise your head, she extends her hand, and you watch in awe as it transforms. At first, it is an indistinct shadow, a mere silhouette in the dim light. Slowly, it begins to change, like smoke swirling and condensing into a solid form. The edges of the shadow blur and ripple, then start to coalesce, becoming more defined. Dark wisps of energy dance and weave together, gradually shaping into the delicate contours of a hand. The hand becomes fully corporeal, rich with the detail of veins, knuckles, and the soft, warm skin of a living being. 

She cups your cheek, and you lean into her touch, feeling the comforting dark energy seep into your very being. Calm washes over you, and your worries slip away under her warm, motherly touch.

She withdraws her hand and begins to speak, her voice resonating through the dark forest.

“What brings you here, my child?”

“I seek your guidance, Mother. I have descended into your realm, Hell. I’m trapped in a situation I cannot escape without your help. The coven of the Sun God, your brother’s worshippers, are here. They have cursed me, condemned my soul to rot away within a year. Please, Goddess, tell me you can help.”

You remove your clothes to reveal the sigil to the Goddess. She steps closer and with a delicate touch of her fingertips, tracing around the scar, she examines the curse. Her expression grows sorrowful as she reveals her answer.

“I’m sorry, my child, but the only one who's able to undo the spell is the one who casted, either by their own volition or by death.”

You felt your heart sink. Your coven, they would never forgive you, they have too much hate for you. And killing them? Well easier said than done, there's a lot of members and they are a lot more powerful than you are, especially together. It was hopeless. 

“No, no, no!” You groan in frustration, the tension gripping you like a vise. With a heavy heart, you bury your face in your hands, fingers digging into your scalp as if trying to alleviate the weight of your despair. Each breath feels labored, each moment filled with a sense of hopeless anguish that threatens to consume you whole.

It was all over, you're going to die in a year and there's nothing you can do. 

You feel a warm hand touch your shoulder, sending a calming energy through your spine. You sigh, gradually calming down from the Goddesses comforting touch. That's when you realize you are still in danger, the coven can still find you and drag you back to the torture cell. Not to mention not wanting to involve the hotel in this mess, that would surely end horribly.

You lift your head to look at Mona, a small empathetic smile on her face as she looks at you. You wipe off the tears that you just realized were rolling down your cheek. With a few sniffles and shaky breaths you finally gain back some composure. 

“There is another matter you might be able to help me with, Mother. I want to learn about my demon powers and how to use them. If the coven returns and tries to hurt me again, I need to be prepared. Could you please show me how to harness my powers?”

With a warm, reassuring smile, Mona extends her hand. As she does, shadowy tendrils emerge from her fingertips, weaving through the forest like hungry serpents. They consume the surroundings, devouring the familiar landscape until all that remains is a dark void. In this abyss, the only source of illumination is the faint, ethereal glow emanating from the Goddess herself.

“Let's begin," says the Goddess.

"To discover your powers, you must delve deep within yourself, exploring the darkest corners of your past. Take a deep breath and reflect, recalling your most grievous transgressions."

You inhale deeply, centering yourself, and begin to sift through your memories, navigating the murky depths of your past misdeeds.

As you focus on a particular memory, your surroundings shift. You and the Goddess materialize within the memory itself, witnessing your past unfold like scenes from a movie.

It's a memory of the first person you killed after massacring your coven. You wanted to steal his money since you were low on cash. The tavern you've been working in as a barmaid barely made you enough to get by. He was sitting at one of the tables close to the bar, already heavily inebriated. He was taller than you, but not by a lot, he was also a smaller skinnier build. Not a very attractive fella. He was known to be a drunkard, hitting on the barmaids, touching them inappropriately. He was the perfect target. 

Approaching him with measured steps, you wear a practiced seductive smile, your eyes gleaming with calculated allure. As you settle onto his lap, you can feel the weight of his gaze, clouded by intoxication, lingering on your form as the smell of sweat and ale filling your senses.

Leaning in close, you weave a tapestry of lies with your words, each syllable dripping with honeyed deceit. You stroke his ego, praising his strength and attractiveness, while subtly steering the conversation to your advantage.

With every whispered compliment, you draw him deeper into your web of deception, until he's putty in your hands, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath your facade.

After a few more drinks and a skillful exchange of words, you deftly pilfer the man's pouch without him even noticing, slipping away from the table with your prize in hand. Leaving the drunken mess of a man to his own devices, you disappear into the shadows of the tavern.

Days later, a group of men emerged from the doorway, stomping in angrily into the tavern. You recognized one of the men as the one you stole from a few nights ago. 

They approached you, shouting a growling demanding you give the guys money back. You try to calmly explain that you don't have the money. You tell them that you're poor and you work because your husband can't. You explained how you stole the money to buy medicine for him. They seem to ignore your words, throwing insults and threats your way. That's when the owner shows up and demands that they leave his tavern.

With a few more insults and profanities exchanged, the men left. After your shift finishes and you begin walking home, immediately feeling uneasy. Your intuition tells you to beware. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of the men trailing behind, their menacing silhouettes growing ever closer. The men from the tavern hot on your feet as you speed up, eventually turning to a full sprint. Ducking into a narrow alleyway, you press yourself against the cold stone wall, breath coming in ragged gasps as you watch the men scour the area, their shadows looming ominously in the flickering lamplight.

One with a mustache comes close to your hiding spot. He's a lot bigger than the fella you robbed, he could easily overpower you. Sensing the need for a distraction, you whisper a barely audible incantation. A sudden loud bang reverberates from the other side of the street. Startled, the men pivot towards the noise, their attention diverted as they rush to investigate.

You have the chance to make your escape, but something mischievous starts bubbling within you. How much fun it would be to mess with them. You quietly run behind a tree, you begin slowly climbing it. From your elevated vantage point, you weave another spell, projecting your voice to the spot where you were originally concealed.

The men, drawn by the illusion, scramble to the empty hiding spot, their frustration evident as they find nothing. Delighting in the chaos you've created, you repeat the process, sending them on a wild goose chase around the alleyways. At some point your cheeks start hurting from smiling, trying very hard to keep the laughter escaping from your throat.

But soon, your amusement wanes, and you decide it's time to make your escape. With a final diversionary spell, you project the sound of running footsteps in the opposite direction, leading the men away as you slip quietly from your perch. As they give chase to the phantom sound, you descend from the tree, straightening your dress with a composed air, ready to disappear into the night.

As you descend from the tree, you're startled to find yourself face to face with the man you robbed days ago. 

“She's here!! The thief is— UGHH” instinct takes over and you swiftly plunge your pocket knife you always keep with you into his stomach.

He collapses, gasping for air, clutching his wound in agony. Despite the rush of power coursing through you, there's no time to revel in it. With a menacing smile, you turn to flee, but the approaching footsteps of the men from before hasten your departure.

As you sprint through the streets, desperation sets in, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your legs burning with exertion. With the men hot on your trail, you realize you can't outrun them for much longer. Frantically scanning your surroundings, your eyes alight on a nearby house with a clothesline adorned with drying garments.

Without hesitation, you dash towards it, ripping the men's clothing from the line and hastily donning the disguise. A hat pulled low over your brow completes the transformation, obscuring your features as you blend into the shadows of the night, evading capture once more.

“Hey, boy, have you seen a woman running this way?" 

The largest man pants, desperation evident in his voice. Without a word, you gesture in the opposite direction of your intended escape. They nod in gratitude, their footsteps quickening as they follow your false lead.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you hurry home, hastily packing your belongings as you prepare to leave the town behind. Before stepping out into the streets, you take a small knife and make a precise, deliberate cut across your palm, the pain sharp and immediate. Holding a deep bowl beneath your hand, you watch as the deep crimson blood drips steadily into it.

With your blood as the cornerstone of the ritual, you add rusty nails and rotten eggs, dried thorns and dead insects, a splash of vinegar, and a pinch of wormwood. These ingredients, potent and foul, amplify the dark energy of your spell.

Next, you write down the names of the men who pursued you, they were regulars so you have heard their names slip from their mouths. Placing the slips of paper into the bowl, each one soaking in the blood and other ingredients. The connection to your enemies is now tangible, their fate sealed within the mix.

Striking your flint and steel, you light the contents of the bowl. The flames flare up with an eerie glow, the blood sizzling and hissing as the hex activates. You watch intently as the fire consumes the mixture, the power of your blood magic sending waves of sickness and misfortune to the men who wronged you.

As the fire dies down to smoldering embers, you feel the energy of the hex solidify. With a final glance at the dying flames, you quickly duck out of your home, slipping into the night to begin your journey to another town, leaving the cursed remnants behind.

This was the first town you abandoned in such a manner. After three years of residing there, you depart due to a murder you committed, devoid of any remorse. It marks the beginning of a pattern, a cycle of fleeing from consequences that will repeat itself in towns to come. 

With the memory dissipating like smoke, shadowy tendrils throwing you into another.

As you delve into the next memory, the scene unfolds before you with chilling clarity. You find yourself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of iron and decay. Your pulse quickens as you confront the man who dared to lay a hand on you.

It's 1886 and it's the first time you used your blood magic to kill someone. The man, Joseph, was someone you were fond of. You didn't exactly love him. No, the ability to love has been something you couldn't xperience anymore, and you'll be damned if you ever trust a man again. 

Either way he was somewhat close to you, but he mistook that friendship as something more. He tried to court you, not taking no for an answer. Joseph tried to get you to agree to go on a date with him several times, eventually he grew tired of you declining him and tried to use force against you. You two were in your home having a few drinks when he tried to kiss you. Pulling away from him only resorted to him grabbing you angrily to shove his lips against yours. You managed to escape his grip and knock him out quickly, he was out cold immediately as you broke a bottle of wine over his head. So that's where you were now, in the basement, with his form sprawled out on the cold altar table, bound and unconscious. 

It was the perfect time to try out a new ritual dedicated to the Huntress Goddess. You were trying to find a perfect victim after all, and of course not wanting to just kill any innocent rando, it was very convenient timing on his part really.

His face contorts in confusion as he begins to stir, awakening to find himself at your mercy.

As you stand before the bound man, his chest exposed on the altar, a tense silence fills the dimly lit basement. You can feel the weight of his gaze upon you, a mixture of fear and confusion flickering in his eyes. With a steady hand, you reach for your tools, the implements of your craft gleaming in the faint light.

“Why are you doing this?" he demands, his voice tinged with desperation. "What do you want from me?"

You pause, regarding him with a cool detached look. "What I want is of no consequence to you now," you reply, your voice low and steady. "You have trespassed against me, and now you must face the consequences."

His eyes widen in realization, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with fear. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was a mistake, I swear. We can fix this, go back to being friends." Joseph was begging like a pathetic puppy. Disgusting, he thought he could just have you, but what else did you expect from a man? They take what they don't own without hesitation or remorse. You are ready to make him pay for his actions.

You remain unmoved, your resolve unshakeable. "Words mean nothing now," you say, your tone devoid of emotion. Taking the sharp blade out of its sheet, a beautiful knife, with the handle made out of a deer antler, intricate symbols carved on it. "Actions have consequences, and yours have led you here.” you point the knife to his chest, you see his breath quicken, eyes widening, expression turning into that of a cornered animal. 

As you begin the ritual, his protests grow more frantic, his struggles against his bonds growing increasingly desperate, but you pay him no mind. Attaching the deer antlers to your victim, tying them to his head securely. You dedicated this animal, your perfect prey, to Fenja, the Huntress Goddess. Your focus is unwavering as you channel the dark energies swirling within you.

By offering this man's life to the Goddess, you will be granted protection from all dangers for an entire year. She will shield you from harm and guide you on the right path.

As the ritual reaches its climax, you draw upon the man's life force, draining his blood from his wrists with a steady hand. The crimson liquid flows into the deep bowl beneath him, pooling with dark intent as you prepare to channel its power.

With practiced precision, you carve intricate sigils into his chest, dedicated to the hunt, each stroke imbued with the ancient symbols of your craft. The man's skin yields to your touch, the marks etched into his flesh like a twisted tapestry of agony and despair.

With that you pick up your spell book, whispering incantations in an ancient language, praying to Fenja to grant you protection and to humbly accept the offering in trade. With the last words leaving your lips you hover over the man's sprawled out body. He's barely conscious because of the blood loss. With a savage determination, you reach for the sacrificial dagger at your side, its blade glinting in the dim light.

With a swift and merciless stroke, you plunge the deer bone dagger into the man's chest, tearing through muscle and sinew until you reach the prize you seek: his still-beating heart. With a triumphant cry, you wrench the heart from his chest, holding it aloft with a savage hunger in your eyes.

And then, without hesitation, you sink your teeth into the pulsing organ, tearing into its flesh with a primal ferocity. The taste of blood fills your mouth, a heady mixture of triumph and power coursing through your veins as you consume the man's essence. 

Your body quivers as a surge of power courses through you, each fiber vibrating with the intensity of the Huntress's magic. Your eyes alight with a mesmerizing hue of deep purple, as if infused with the very essence of the hunt.

The spell had worked, making that year incredibly peaceful. No one tried to expose you as a magic practitioner, you robbed and tricked people effortlessly, and you remained free from sickness and disease. It was perfect. The only downside was a little cannibalism, but with such a great payoff, why not? This ritual was just a modified version of what you did in the coven, where you used a raw deer heart instead of a human one. Somehow, the heart of this man gave you much more power than the deer’s. After that, you repeated the spell yearly.

As the memory begins to fade, reminders of past actions flicker into view, but before you can dwell on them for long, you're swiftly pulled into another memory, whisked away from the haunting echoes of the past.

As 1922 unfolded in New York, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The roaring twenties were your favorite decade, even with the tragic things that happened, now you were witnessing its glorious resurgence. With anticipation bubbling inside you, you eagerly embraced the era's vibrancy and allure. It was time to relive the golden days of the twenties once again.

You were sitting on a barstool of your favorite speakeasy, sipping on bootleg hooch and whisky imported from England. The Blind Tiger was owned by a man who was famous all over New York. Marco Moretti, a notorious bootlegger, a cruel criminal who held the coppers in the palm of his hands, and insanely rich.

The velvety warmth of fine whisky caressed your throat, igniting a familiar thrill as you took another sip. A symphony of smoke and spirits swirled around you, mingling with the lively jazz melodies that pulsed through the air. Your finger traced the rhythm of the music on the table, echoing the fast-paced tempo. Amidst the sea of elegant suits and dazzling dresses, joyous laughter and spirited dancing filled the room, painting a vibrant tableau of revelry and indulgence. Ah what a time to be alive.

With a cigarette poised between your lips, you fished out your lighter from your bag, anticipating the comforting glow of a flame. However, despite your best efforts, the stubborn lighter remained unyielding, failing to spark. Frustration increases as you click it repeatedly.

*flick*

*flick*

*flick*

"Ugh, God damn it," you muttered, cursing the heavens for denying you the simple pleasure of a nicotine fix. Disheartened, you slumped forward, resting your head on the worn bar table. Suddenly, the faint sound of another flick and the crackle of fire caught your attention.

Raising your head, you leaned into the offered flame, finally igniting your cigarette. As a wave of calmness washed over you with each inhale, you glanced up to thank the gentleman responsible, only to realize you were face to face with an actual mobster, none other than Marco Moretti, the owner of the speakeasy.

“Thank you kindly, sir” you look at him and my my he was handsome too. 

“Of course Bella, it's my pleasure” he said, offering you a sweet smile.

As the night went on, you found yourself talking and laughing with him, the smoky haze of the speakeasy wrapping around you like a veil. Marco was more than just a notorious figure; he was magnetic, captivating, and before you knew it, you were drawn into his world.

You were good at deception and trickery, at least that's what you thought until you met him. But he was like a mastermind, always ten steps ahead, fooling everyone effortlessly. As you two got closer, Marco introduced you to the inner workings of his empire, teaching you the art of discretion and the finesse of manipulation. You became his confidant, his right hand, his partner in crime, and soon, the two of you were running New York together.

Horse races at Belmont Park became your playground. You and Marco would arrive in style, decked out in the finest attire. The crowds would part as you walked through, a power couple exuding confidence and control. You placed bets with an air of nonchalance, always seeming to know the right horse to back, thanks to the inside information Marco had at his disposal.

Nights were a spectacle of luxury and excess. Lavish balls hosted in grand mansions became the norm, where the city's elite mingled with the criminal elite under a veneer of propriety. You danced under crystal chandeliers, the jazz music lively as alway. Every event was an opportunity to forge alliances and reinforce your status.

But it wasn't just the glamor that defined your days. You were involved in the meticulous planning of heists and the orchestration of elaborate bootlegging operations. You learned how to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld, gaining a reputation for your cunning and ruthlessness. Together, you bribed officials, outsmarted rivals, and expanded your influence, making the Moretti name synonymous with both fear and respect all around the country.

One night, after a particularly successful operation that involved smuggling a massive shipment of whisky through the city's sewers, you and Marco stood on the rooftop of the Waldorf Astoria, looking out over the glittering skyline of New York. 

Marco turned to you, his expression serious. "We've come a long way, Bella. This city is ours for the taking, but we have to stay sharp. The higher we climb, the further we have to fall.” 

He pulled you close to his chest, kissed the top of your head. Your relationship with him was complicated. You two were necessarily a couple, but it wasn't friendship either.  It was a weird in-between thing you two had, since both of you knew that being together would do more harm than good. 

But you loved each other, maybe not in the romantic sense, but you cared for him deeply and he cared for you two. It felt like nothing could stop the two of you. That is until one fateful night tragedy struck.

It started as a routine operation, a delivery of bootleg whisky to a new speakeasy on the Lower East Side. You and Marco were confident, your plan meticulously crafted. But as you navigated the narrow alleyways, a trap was sprung. Rival gang members ambushed you. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks of pistols echoing off the brick walls.

Marco and you fought back fiercely, but you were outnumbered. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—this wasn't just a skirmish; it was an execution.

“Get out of here, Bella!" Marco shouted, shoving you towards a narrow escape route between two buildings. "I'll hold them off!”

“Are you insane Marco, this is suicide!” you protested, your heart pounding with fear and anger.

“Go!" he commanded, his eyes fierce and determined. 

Tears stung your eyes as you hesitated, but the gravity of the situation forced you to comply. With one last, anguished look at Marco, you fled, the sounds of gunfire and shouts fading as you ran.

You found refuge in an abandoned warehouse, heart heavy with dread. Minutes felt like hours as you waited, hoping against hope that Marco would emerge from the shadows, unscathed. But deep down, you knew the truth. He was gone.

The grief and rage from Marco’s death propelled you back to the Moretti mansion with a fierce determination to regroup and plan your next move. However, as you approached, the eerie silence and the flickering lights filled you with a foreboding sense of dread. The usually bustling estate was ominously quiet.

You stepped inside, and the scene that greeted you was nothing short of a nightmare. Bodies of Marco’s loyal men and women lay scattered, their lives brutally snuffed out. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and your heart sank as you realized that the rival gang had struck again, this time with a devastating blow. 

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed you from behind, yanking you into the main hall where the leader of the rival gang, a menacing figure named Vito Rossi, stood smirking. His henchmen surrounded you, their faces twisted with malicious glee.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Vito sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “The infamous queen of the Moretti empire. Too bad your reign ends tonight.”

They tied you to a chair, and Vito leaned in close, his breath hot and rancid against your face. “We’ve taken everything—your money, your power, your family. Now, we’ll take your life.”

Stupid fools, they should have known better than to mess with you. And what they did to the Moretti family, the closest people you deemed family in a long while. People who took you in, accepted your wickedness, welcomed it and loved you for who you are. And they butchered them. Now they think they are going to kill you too? I don't think so.

Your heart pounded with fury, but on the outside you remained calm, closing your eyes you focused on the incantation.

“Blood be still, body freeze, halt their will, bring them to their knees.”

The words rolled off your tongue in a whisper, and a sudden chill filled the room. Vito paused, confusion flickering across his face as the room filled with dread, the feeling of dark magic surrounding them. His men looked around uneasily, their bravado wavering

“What the hell is—” Vito’s question was cut off as his blood began to freeze in his veins. One by one, the gang members’ eyes widened in terror, their bodies locking into place as the spell took hold.

With a flick of your fingers, the ropes binding you to the chair snapped, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You stood, your expression cold and resolute, and walked over to Vito, who was now immobilized, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and disbelief.

“You underestimated me,” you said softly, your voice echoing in the silent room. “And now you’ll pay the price.”

With deliberate steps, you collected the bags of money they had stolen, securing them in a large satchel. The room remained deathly silent, save for the faint clicking of your heels on the tiled floor.

1928, you're sitting on a train, with bags full of cash and a broken life. Heading to New Orleans, changing your appearance, starting a new life. This wasn't the first time you've done this, so why does it hurt to leave? 

Even with the pain of losing someone so important to you, you find yourself happy in a bittersweet way. With deep breath you're ready to create a new life for yourself once more. 

The air is thick with the scent of smoke, mingling with the metallic tang of fear. Dark figures loom around a crackling bonfire, their distorted shapes dancing eerily in the flickering light. Voices rise in a cacophony of chants, their words twisted and distorted, sending shivers down your spine.

Amidst the chaos, a haunting sound cuts through the night air – the heart-wrenching cry of a child, its echoes reverberating through the darkness. You can feel the weight of despair pressing down on you as you strain to shut out the horrifying scene unfolding before you. Your breathing quickens, vision blurs as you drop to the floor. With your eyes trained on the ground, you pull on your ears, trying to ground yourself somehow as you relive the worst thing that happened to you.

Suddenly, there's a sickening gurgle, followed by a woman screaming, and then unsettling silence that hangs heavy in the air like a shroud. Your heart clenches as you realize the depth of the darkness that surrounds this memory, its tendrils reaching out to ensnare you in its grip. With a sense of dread, you shut your eyes tightly, trying to escape the haunting images that threaten to consume you whole.

That's when you feel a pair of hands grip you, yanking you from the deep dark memory. Tears are rolling down your cheeks, your heart rate slowing down as you realize that the Goddess pulled you out of the nightmare. Looking around you find yourself back in the void, Mona close to you, comforting you after the painful reminder of your past. 

“It seems this is not something we're ready to look through. Moving through memories like this can be dangerous if we get too lost in them. They can pull you in, making you relive them forever. I needed to pull you out when you reacted in such a manner.” 

You turn towards the Goddess, slowly coming back to your normal self, pushing down the thoughts of pain and suffering. 

“Was it enough revisiting to know what kind of demon magic I have?” You ask tiredly, hoping that you don't have to jump to another memory again.

“Yes, it will be enough”replied the Goddess.

“So, what kind of magic do I possess?“

“What is it that you've observed my child?” Asked the Goddess.

“I tricked them. I used my words, my magic, my womanly charms and my resourcefulness and fooled all of them. And once I was done, I changed my appearance and my name and moved away, just to do it all over again. Those who deserved my help, I protected fiercely and those who crossed me paid the price.”

“And what kind of power would you possess if this is what you did in life”

“Trickery?” You ask.

The Goddess Mona, with her ethereal glow and an air of timeless wisdom, smiles at your realization. "Indeed, trickery is your gift," she affirms, her voice a melodic whisper that reverberates through the obsidian walls of the training room. "The power of trickery is multifaceted and incredibly potent. Let me explain the abilities you can harness from it."

She raises her hand, and a cascade of shimmering shadows forms a delicate, intricate web in the air. The web is a mesmerizing tapestry, each thread pulsating with a different hue, weaving a vibrant display of color and shadow. The strands are as fine as spider silk, interlacing in complex patterns that shift and shimmer as they move.

"First, you have the ability of Illusions," she begins, her fingers dancing through the threads. "You can manipulate the senses of others, creating images and sounds that deceive and confuse. With practice, you can even craft entire landscapes, making your enemies question their reality."

A thread of silver light glows brighter, and she touches it gently. "Next is Shape-shifting. You have the power to alter your appearance at will, adopting new forms to blend in, evade capture, or mislead. This ability goes beyond mere disguise; you can mimic voices, mannerisms, and even the aura of those you emulate."

The web shifts, and a dark, almost invisible thread comes to the forefront. "Then there is Invisibility. By bending light and shadow, you can render yourself unseen. This can be momentary, a flicker to avoid detection, or sustained to move unseen through the world."

Mona's hand moves to a vibrant, glowing thread of pink. "You also possess Charm and Persuasion. This isn't just about speaking convincingly; you can infuse your words with magic, compelling others to see things your way, believe your lies, or even act against their own interests. With this, you can sway the minds and hearts of those around you."

Finally, she touches a deep crimson thread, pulsating with a dark energy. "And then there is Blood Bending. This is unusual but since you used your blood in your craft while you were alive it is not surprising that you possess this gift. This rare and formidable power allows you to manipulate the blood within living beings. You can control their movements, immobilize them, or even inflict pain. This ability is incredibly dangerous and must be wielded with the utmost caution. It gives you dominion over life itself, turning your enemies into mere puppets under your command."

Mona lets the web dissolve, its threads dissipating like mist. She steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "These are your gifts, the powers of trickery. They are tools for survival and conquest. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Use them wisely, my child."

“Thank you Goddess, I really appreciate your help” you bow to her in gratitude as the space shifts again, returning to the dark forest. 

“I think it's time you returned to the real world now, child. You should practice your powers.” 

Without much time to process her words, She snaps her finger and you're jolted awake from your bed. 

Oh my, you're quite a powerful demon. 

[newbie-whovian]

"What would all the Doctors when they and reader have a lover's spat?"

(Absolutely! Thanks for the ask anon! Sorry this took so absurdly long 😭)

All Doctors x Reader - Spats

1 probably started it, not gonna lie, and for the first bit afterwards, he simply refuses to admit he's wrong. He moves on quickly though, a little too quickly sometimes, but he always apologizes (even if it comes much later than you'd prefer).

2 knows that disagreements are normal but when they turn into spats, he can't help but feel a little guilty for making something out of nothing. He enjoys ruffling your feathers sometimes, sure, but he hates the thought that he might have actually upset you, so he makes sure to make it up to you.

3 turns spats into an art form. He is infuriating, plain and simple, and he knows it. Just look at his banter with the Master; he can bicker with the best of them. He tries not to be horribly mean spirited, and if he is, he's quick to make it up to you with a trip in the TARDIS.

4 bickers all the time because truly, he's only ever polite in tense situations. He has his sweet side, definitely, but more often than not, he's unintentionally quite rude. Spats are always over silly things, and he always forgets them very quickly, moving on like a derailed train.

5 insists that he would never, and to give him credit it's barely a lie. Spats are only ever over the tiniest things, and they never last very long at all. He's always quick to forgive and forget because truly, staying mad about the little things is never any good.

6's love language is arguing. Hands down. The spats that he doesn't start are few and far between. But truly it's never genuinely malicious; he loves to have a partner that can dish it back to him because really, what's the fun in one-sided arguments?

7 probably started it on accident; some scheme of his went sour, you were accidentally caught in the crossfire, and although everything turned out alright, you still can't get over the fact that everything would have gone a lot smoother if he'd communicated at all. It's truly like arguing with a brick wall.

8 is Confused™. Spats come as a genuine surprise to him because most of the time he can't think of any reason to argue, unless it's over something completely ridiculous. He absolutely hates the idea of you staying mad at him though, so he's quick to try and make it up to you.

The War Doctor is too preoccupied with getting traumatized to argue. Or have a partner, for that matter.

9 has very little patience for arguments, but he's also not very good at explaining what he's thinking. This leads to some interesting spats where everything could be avoided if he knew how to communicate properly, but c'mon, this is the Doctor we're talking about. He tries his best.

10 is an absolute disaster but refuses to recognize it. This can end in some pretty one-sided spats, where he's in some pretty firm denial about ever doing anything wrong. He's always eager to make it up to you with a trip.

11 hates arguments, and it would seem that spats are much more up his alley but that couldn't be further from the truth. He can't stand the idea of disagreeing with you about anything. They're never about anything serious, but he lets them bother him for way longer than he should.

12 is Awkward™ and until you understand his love languages, tiny spats are abundant. He can be pretty rude but that's vastly overshadowed by his protective streak, and the end result is some admittedly frustrating spats.

13 couldn't argue with you if her life depended on it. That being said, you do have disagreements, but she prefers to ignore them until the problem goes away.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

https://www.ign.com/articles/the-walking-dead-daryl-dixon-season-1-review-norman-reedus

Do you think this makes it sound doubtful that beth will return? This is the first 6 episodes review

Okay, so I've read about 10 of these review articles over the past day or two. I get that it doesn't say we'll see Beth, but I actually think it sounds VERY promising. A lot of what me and my fellow theorists have been saying for a long time now is already being confirmed.

I'm going to combine several Asks into one post so I can gather all my thoughts in one area. I'll also insert some of the articles in case you want to read them yourself. Just keep in mind that they do have a lot of spoilers.

If you read across all the articles out there, some of them clearly are loving the Daryl spinoff, while others are much more negative and hate it. (Most of them seem to harbor negative feelings toward Norman and TWD in general, so I wouldn't take their words too seriously.) But you start to notice similarities between the articles. Most of them talk about the same things in the series, and we start to get a lot of hints toward what we'll see.

It's true that they don't mention Beth and some go out of their way to say that there are no other familiar faces from TWD. But keep in mind a couple of things about that:

1) I think that's aimed toward the Carylers. They're so sure we're going to see Carol at some point, and to me, it doesn't sound like we will. Or, if we do, it will be at such a last possible secondn to kick us into season 2, that her presence will have absolutely no effect on season 1.

2) Several of the reviewers have said that AMC swore them to secrecy when it comes to episodes 5 and 6. So, they've said some general stuff about how amazing episode 5 is gonna be, but overall, they can't say anything about what they saw in those episodes. So even if someone big showed up (Carol, Beth, Rick, Shane, lol) they wouldn't be able to say.

And I think it's SUPER significant that AMC would swear them to secrecy about those episodes. When the show literally leaked Troy's return 15 minutes after the FTWD Coda with the "mysterious" person, why would they demand that those receiving the screeners not reveal anything about the final two episodes of the Daryl Spinoff. Sounds all kinds of promising to me.

But there's plenty more. Let me just mention some things that stick out that seem to confirm we're right about smaller things (i.e. not Beth, per se). If you read across all the articles, there are actually a LOT of spoilers for the first few episodes. You can piece together a lot of the story from what's said. Yet, there's nothing about Carol, as I've already mentioned, and nothing suggesting a Daryl/Isabelle romance.

I did read one that said there are some "romance tropes" they use between the two of them, that are sure to get the Daryl shippers all fired up, but we don't actually hear about a relationship.

To me, that just means we'll see more of the same. Just as with Connie, just as with Carol, or Rosita, or just about anyone else he's had friendships with, he will be close to Isabelle and they'll connect on a deep level. Because of that, we're sure to see some Daryl/Isabelle shippers spring up, and the more angry people who ship Daryl with someone else (we all know who they are) will be on the warpath.

But I think if we were truly going to see a Daryl/Isabelle romance, it would be apparent in some way from these reviews. Even if they didn't come right out and say it, they would be frustrated that something is going to happen to inflame the shipping wars and would say so.

Another thing certain shippers were saying is that the leaked pictures of Daryl near the moose crossing sign were just down the road from the Commonwealth and were a scene where Carol caught up with him before he left the states and they had some kind of interaction.

That's proven to be false. We're now being told by the screeners that he's in Maine, very far from the Commonwealth, and Carol is nowhere in sight. To those of us to *actually* follow the details of the story and the symbolism, this has a lot more ties to Tales of the Walking Dead's Davon episode. If you haven't watched it, I would highly suggest you do. We're hoping to see some obvious ties to it in the show.

Of all the articles I read, this may be my favorite. It just gushes about how good Daryl's spinoff is, and has lots of good clues in it. But yes, the line you mention, Nonny, really stood out to me.

If you read carefully, it says Daryl will be asked about those he loves, and being Daryl, he's fairly closed-mouthed about it. But they specifically entangle that idea with him saying, or almost saying, a name that will break the internet. The Carylers, obviously, assume it will be Carol. But would him saying her name break the internet? I don't think so.

Exactly!

It doesn't make sense that Carol's name would break the internet. He already told Carol he loved her before leaving the CW, so it wouldn't be anything new. The names of any other character (Rick? Judith? Michonne?) wouldn't either because the audience knows they're out there somewhere. To break the internet as the reviewer suggests, it would have to be someone we don't know about (most of the GA doesn't think Beth is alive) or something we haven't heard Daryl say before.

So, here's what I'm guessing/hoping for. What if someone (Isabelle, I'm assuming) asks Daryl if he's ever been in love? Now, it says it's an "almost" name drop, so maybe he doesn't actually say Beth's name, but mentions a girl he once ended up alone on the road with or something.

That would be sublime. 😍

And naturally other shippers think he'll refer to Carol. But here's the thing. Let's say--you know, just for kicks--that he IS talking about romantic love and he DID refer to Carol. I still don't think that would break the internet. Sure, the Caryl shippers would go absolutely ballistic with triumph and joy, but remember that, while they're very loud and vocal, they're just a small part of the internet. Most of the GA doesn't know who they are any more than they know who we are. And I think the after TWD viewer who isn't part of the ship wars would just go, "huh. Okay. So they finally had Daryl say he was in love with someone." And then they would shrug and move on. Because most of the GA wants Daryl to find a happy ending, but they don't care overly much who it's with.

Now, obviously I DON'T think he's going to say Carol's name, in a romantic or any other capacity. My point is just that no matter how you slice it, Daryl saying Carol's name would not break the internet, so that can't be what the reviewer is talking about.

But referring to Beth would be completely different. We've never heard him talk about her before. And if he talks about feelings he had for her, well, even the average viewer remembers his and Beth's storyline (AMC has certainly kept it in the forefront of most people's minds all these years) and would have an emotional reaction to Daryl talking about her, and even more so if he says he loved her.

Now, of course this is all speculation one way or the other. We have no idea what he will actually be talking about in that scene. Again, this is just what I'm guessing/hoping for, because it's the only thing I can think of that would "break the internet" as the article says.

So, I've already addressed most of this. I'm not getting the Daryl/Isabelle romance thing at all when I read the articles. Again, just read them very carefully. It says there are set ups that feel like romance tropes, but it doesn't actually say there's a relationship, and the same thing could have been said of Connie and plenty of others.

As for the happy ending, I really think we'll see something of that by the end of the first season, but remember that the reviewers have admitted they can't talk about that. But even if we don't get a total Daryl/Beth reunion in S1, keep in mind that Judith's line about his happy ending probably spans the entire spinoff series.

And if I'm right about him mentioning Beth, (yes, still a big IF right now) well, there's no reason to do that unless they're foreshadowing her coming back into the story.

So, as always, we'll have to wait and see what the episodes bring us.

Can reviews be misleading? Yes. Definitely. And I don't even think it's always done purposely on the part of the reviewer. Sometimes yes, sometimes, no. But we have someone who has seen the show and is trying to reveal it without spoiling it. Each reviewer has their own thoughts and impressions and biases that naturally leak into their reviews. Some of them don't have English as their first language. Some of them are Caryl shippers, and that will make their reviews sound a certain way.

So, you just have to keep in mind that these reviewers are human beings with their own insights and opinions. And while that might make their review come off as misleading, it's really just that they have their own interpretation of what they're seeing, just as we do. Whose to say who's right or wrong? (Except we're totally right. 😉😁😇)

Overall, I've really enjoyed reading all these articles and harvesting clues and insights from them. I'm more excited for the Daryl spinoff than ever and still think it is leading to Beth. And we'll get episode 1 in just a few days. (Yay! 🎉)

Xoxo! 🍁🍂💓

[doubledyke]

hey, i’ve read some of your writing and i really like it. do you have any tips?

aw dude that's really sweet. i'm really self conscious about everything i write so i appreciate hearing that. i'm still learning myself, so my advice is probably gonna be kind of obvious yet nebulous (much like my writing). oh and im not great at following my own advice, but we can ignore that.

first and foremost i'd say try to have fun. get weird with it. don't stress too much about it. it's supposed to be an enjoyable pastime, so write what YOU like, how you like. the "rules" of grammar and composition are helpful, but you're allowed to be a lot more lax with creative writing. i know i am 👀

in my humble opinion, you can never have too many details, even- or especially- oddly specific ones. personal experiences are a great way to inject some minutiae, and i enjoy the insight they provide into the author's perspective, background, thought process, etc.. there are infinite other tools at your disposal too. like the number of times i've found myself browsing ancient, niche forums just to confirm one insignificant bit of information is ridiculous.

don't be afraid to take your story as seriously or unseriously as you want. sometimes i'll be snapped out of focus with the thought of "am i really writing this rn" 😂 but i just try to remind myself that i'm (usually) having fun, i'm not hurting anyone and someone might even enjoy the final product.

for eene, try to listen to the voice acting as much as you watch the animation. and don't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone when writing a character. i'm neither comfortable, nor very good at writing for ed, but i nutted up and gave it a shot recently and yeah it's nuclear level cringe but i suppose it can't get any worse, right? RIGHT???.... i love learning new words, so when i'm writing for edd (and in general) you know i keep that thesaurus tab open. with eddy, there's always room for more irreverence. i'm also one of those people that cannot help but drop almost every g when i write eddy. and it's just as important to get their idiolects down, which can be tricky. BUT that's mostly if your goal is to stay close to the source material, which is definitely not necessary. i'm just not a very creative person 😂

if you're in a rut, skip to another section, or hell even another chapter. the fic i'm working on rn was hatched from a simple premise several months ago, so i started at the end and have been building on that. an unconventional starting point can be really helpful when you're struggling to start at all. because i'm me, it's turned into a nightmare beast that i can't seem to contain, but i still have a general idea of where we're going and we'll get there eventually lmfao. to that point, outlines, bullet points, notes, etc. are all very useful.

take breaks, let her sit for a while. i'll write a whole bunch, leave, come back to review and be like girl what the hell is this. fresh eyes make a big difference! however, don't be like me and get too caught up in the weeds. i make compulsive little tweaks of my shit up to the point and even after i hit post. more often than not, it's more stress than it's worth. i just can't help it 🥴

and then of course, read other people's stuff. i'm not much of a fiction reader but i make exceptions for the sake of my hyper-fixation. it truly does help to see different perspectives and styles of writing. everyone has a unique voice that really comes through in creative writing, which i love. i've gleaned a lot from reading other people's work as well. i frequently come across new and creative ideas for changing up sentence structure, dialogue tags and narration by reading stuff from fellow fans.

aaaaaand yeah idk what else really. like i said, i'm not the best at writing but i think as long as you're getting your ideas across in the way that you want to, you're golden. anyone who makes shitty remarks about someone else's writing can sit and spin honestly.

[throughtrialbyfire]

WIP (not quite) Wednesday ♥

i'm just gonna start calling thursday "wednesday 2" HAHAHHGJKFDHKJG

tagged by @caliblorn !! thank you so much!! ♥

tagging @skyrim-forever @aphocryphas @maldov @thana-topsy @orfeoarte and anyone who wants to join!!

this is a rough draft for a scene that'll happen during the Solitude arc for Cycle of the Serpent. i absolutely love writing these guys

"It's just…" they started, breath snagging their words for a moment, before continuing, "…with everything that's been going on, I'm so fucking tired all the time, I just don't rest like I used to, y'know?" Emeros nodded. "We come here because we wanna avoid the Greybeards, then we get wrapped up with gods-damned Potema, and I don't even know if it's…" He waited for words that seemed to die on the other's tongue with a frustrated groan, the heels of their palms digging against their eyes for a moment. The nightmares had haunted all three of them. Potema, her cruel laugh, the voice that howled against the dreams they once had. For Emeros, it was nightmares of a promise of revival. Her power would knit flesh and bone from ash. For Wyndrelis - gathered from the Dunmer's half-asleep mumbling - the nightmares were a promise of revenge. That whoever had wronged him would know the ire they cast upon him, whoever they were. For Athenath… He only knew that they woke up thrashing, shaking, struggling against the dreams like a wolf pinned in a net. They never told him what Potema's promise to him was. Athenath glanced back at the stone wall, the partition that shadowed the moonlight. They stared at it for a while. "Athenath," Emeros breathed, catching the Altmer's attention again. He rubbed at his brow, trying to find something to say. "I think we're all… Exhausted. Gods know I am. I wish there was more we could do, but for now, we've no choice but to face this head-on."

They watched him for a while, plucked the cigarette from the stone step, and took a long drag. Holding it hostage in his lungs, Athenath waited, exhaling after what felt like an eternity. They set it aside again, and leaned their forehead against the other man's shoulder. Out of words to say, he mumbled, "I'm tired." "Go to bed," Emeros laughed, rising. Athenath pouted boyishly at the sudden motion, staring up at the Bosmer who leaned on the effigy's wooden post. They stared at one another in the night air for a while, the moons hovering above the College. "Carry me." Athenath grinned as they made the small, tired-voiced request. Emeros hadn't noticed how exhausted they looked, even now, as though he'd been awake for days on end. The way he spoke hammered in just how little sleep Athenath was truly getting. Still, the Bosmer scoffed and rolled his eyes, unable to restrain the matching grin tempting his own mouth. "You're too old for that," he replied, watching Athenath roll his big, dark eyes and huff. "I'm only young once, Emeros," he taunted, "besides, I don't want to walk." That was the last straw that sent the Bosmer cackling, pressing his rose-hued palm over his mouth, bent at the middle as he struggled to maintain a standing posture. It was the first time he'd laughed like this since Whiterun, the other smirking and leaning back against the stones. He tried to push the laughter back down, but it came bubbling out of his lips again, and when Emeros caught his breath, he rolled his eyes at the Altmer. "You're a grown man, and your legs appear fine," he scanned them up and down, "you can walk back to your room." "That's not the point, I think it'd be more fun if you carried me." Emeros rubbed at his jaw. "You're not letting me get out of this, are you?" "Nope."

[always-andromeda]

Meda please tell me why I keep having a dream about getting knocked up by Joby Taylor and us trying to co-parent. Like. It’s always a mess but we pull together for the kid and there’s tenderness and anger and fights (I wasn’t going to tell him about the baby he found out) and. Why. Why does my brain want this

𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lmao poor baby stomping storm is gonna get a notification that I used one of his gifs and it's for this. I am sorry, my beloved. but I couldn't not use one of your gifs; they are too beautiful <3 also lmao thank you, delaney, for giving me an excuse to share these headcanons bc I also think about this kind of scenario all of the time. because truly. this has no right living rent free in my head.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vague allusions to sex, pregnancy, Joby is a clueless dad (and I guess we're just eating that slop up), nothing else I can think of!

One usually doesn't try to purposely entangle themselves with Joby Taylor. Joby Taylor merely happens to you. One day you're internally groaning over how he's looking at you from under his heavy eyelids and baring that smug smile from across the bar and the next you're holding a positive pregnancy test and debating whether or not you tell him.

You decide not to. There's no reason to get him involved. He'd probably want you to get rid of it anyways, and you're not interested in that. So you go radio silent.

But Joby isn't entirely clueless. He notices how you seem to be distancing yourself. He doesn't want to admit it to himself, but when you don't answer his calls, he gets that pang of jealousy. He wonders for a moment if you might be seeing someone else.

Though he's far from being exclusive with you, something about that makes him twitchy. He likes to believe that you wouldn't need anyone else other than him. So, he becomes clingy. In an attempt to figure out why you won't see him, drink with him, or sleep with him anymore, he'll go directly to you.

And you'll never forget the dumbstruck expression on his face when he starts saying that he's been calling you for weeks, only to be caught off guard by the small bump that's forming on your belly. Now, he is intimately familiar with your body. And he knows that isn't just a pouch of fat.

Joby flies into hysterics. He'll exclaim, "Wait a second, what the fuck is that?"

Don't even bother trying to beat around the bush with him because he will straight up demand to know, "Is it mine?"

And though he hopes that the answer is no, he knows deep down in his bones that he would never be lucky enough to dodge that bullet.

When sent into fight or flight, Joby's first urge is to flee; to protect his ego. The old Joby who had never met his first child and who only cared about his career wouldn't have given a second thought before waving you off and going his own way. The easy way.

But he isn't the old Joby anymore. And as much as he loathes his truth, he resolves that he must live it regardless. For the benefit of you and this child, he'll be there.

Him being there is difficult, both for him and you.

First of all, getting him to quit smoking and getting him to drink less would be a feat. Drying Joby out is worse than most symptoms of pregnancy. Because he's stubborn, he'll insist that he needs it and only begins to soften when you remind him that you want the baby to grow up in a sober home.

Decorating the baby's room and preparing with all of the supplies you'll need, he mostly leaves that bit to you. He'd watch you paint the bedroom with a blank expression, just watching the pastel blue slowly cover over the plain white walls; a sign of the times if he'd ever seen one.

When you start to wobble on the ladder, he'll break from his trance and rush to your side, quietly chuckling about how he thought your balance would be better with the low center of gravity and everything.

You'd give him a little grimace, knowing full well that you look different now and hating that he seems to be aware of it too.

But if there's one thing that Joby doesn't struggle with, it's the way that bump grows through the months. Bodies are bodies in his eyes. He doesn't really have a preference exactly.

As long as he can still figure it out similar to how he did before you were pregnant, he'll be happy. And in that way, Joby is the most comforting through those insecurities; after all, he will never pass up the opportunity to tell you that you're not his favorite MILF before giving you a cheeky, sloppy kiss.

Actually raising the baby is the really difficult part, obviously. A life on the road with his bandmates really hasn't put him in the prime position to know what to do when the baby needs to be changed or burped or fed or nurtured in almost any way.

That leaves you teaching him as you go for the first few months. It also means that there's lots of conflicts. Not a week goes by where you're not arguing with him over him not doing his fair share to keep everything running.

The way that he apologizes is...unconventional...to say in the least. He expects you to read between the lines. Getting a verbal, "I'm sorry," takes a lot. He shows his remorse through random trips to the gas station convenience store on the corner and bringing you back your favorite snack and drink. He also shows it through offering physical touch.

Because Joby loves touching. Whether it's him rubbing your shoulders and easing the tension from your muscles with his skilled fingers or it's him rubbing a climax out of you at the end of the night; he hates the idea of you going to bed angry at him.

He'll lay in bed, watching the back of your head and wishing he had a clue what was going on in it. At least when you're relaxed under his hands, there's a better chance that there's no seeds of bitterness being sown inside of you.

That's another pill that's hard for him to swallow. He hates thinking that he's ruined your life. He's done it once before; and though Claire seemed to be just fine the last time he saw her, he'll never get over the fact that he brought life into the world and ignored it for the longest time.

Some of that guilt helps to fuel his efforts. It's what brings the deals into fruition. Because making those little promises forces him to keep his word and keeps him accountable.

"I'll clean up the baby food if you get the baby in the bathtub."

"Deal."

"How about you cook dinner and I'll do the dishes?"

"Deal."

"Let me take a nap for an hour while you play with the baby."

"Deal."

Each deal gets sealed with a handshake and maybe a kiss if he's lucky. Because at the end of the day, you're a team. You're in this thing together. And no matter what you feel for him, you're both determined to do right by this kid.

Joby does something that he never thought he'd do: he settles into a stable routine. One that doesn't include any substances or blackouts or lapses in judgment that make him hate himself. Through hard work and dedication, Joby becomes a functioning human being; a man who is actually trying his best.

And as much as he once hated the idea of planting himself firmly, he doesn't mind being potted right beside you. With the way you bloom, Joby makes sure that even during the moments where you don't like each other that much, you still respect each other. And Joby hopes that'll never change. Because maybe he didn't ruin your life. Maybe, though, you saved his.

[brainyxbat]

Chapter 7: A Hex on Luffy! Colors Trap

(episode 75)

"Broggy-san!"

"Now, then! Accelerate, Candle Service! Turn these people into wax figures!"

"My hands won't move! I don't wanna die this way! Can't we do something?!"

"Hey, old man. Whadya say we crush these guys together?"

"I'll fight alongside you, and your fighting spirit!"

"Don't be stupid! What can you possibly do?!"

"I'm gonna kick your asses, just so you know!"

"What?"

"These guys spoiled the old giant guys' duel!"

"Master Broggy! We've taken on your frustration!"

"Usopp..."

"For now, could you bust this pillar for us, Luffy? I leave the rest to you."

"Alright, no problem!"

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Break the pillar, Luffy!"

-

As Luffy, Usopp and Venus tried to think of a plan, Zoro stood with his left hand on his hip, and his right holding one of his swords up. "Zoro!" Nami turned to him, stuck with holding her left elbow. "What are you doing?!"

"If I'm gonna be solidified, I prefer this pose."

"This is no time to be playing around!" Vivi protested, her arms simply dangling.

"I'm not playing."

"Anyways, do something about your leg!" Nami complained. "It's painful just looking at it!"

"Then quit looking at it."

"You're the idiot who suggested cutting our legs off in this situation, so we could escape!" Vivi stayed quiet during the argument.

"That ain't true! I was gonna cut 'em off, so we could fight."

"That's even stupider! Get serious!"

"Just shut up!"

"Honestly! You have no common sense!"

'We still haven't even escaped from this situation, yet neither of them seems to sense the danger at all,' Vivi thought.

"Hey, runt," Broggy addressed the swordsman with a grin, "Is that all the struggling you got?"

"Yeah. Looks like it's someone else's turn now."

"I see..."

Ms. Golden Week watched calmly from the picnic. "Mr. 3, those people don't seem concerned at all."

"I could say the same about you, Ms. Golden Week!"

"Hey," Zoro turned to the girls, "If you're gonna do a pose, now's your chance."

"Don't put me on your level," Nami refused.

"Mr. Bushido! Please be more serious about this!"

"I'm always serious."

"More like stupid," Nami snarked.

"Like you're one to talk!"

"It seems we're being mocked!" Mr. 3 glared. "This is truly displeasing! Ever since he showed up, they've been- it couldn't be!"

Luffy. "Alright!" He punched his fists together, ready to fight.

"He hardly seems to be that reliable of a man."

"Mr. 3!" Mr. 5 approached him with Ms. Valentine. "We'll finish him off."

"Finish him off? Don't be silly. Just look! He showed up here alive, and well because your attacks don't work. At the very least, he's at a level that's too much for you to handle." Mr. 3 prepared to battle. "You two take care of the others! I think I'll add Straw Hat Luffy to my wax figure collection."

"You guys are too damn annoying!" Usopp glared. "You've gone a bit too far! Give yourselves up!" Karoo quacked in agreement.

Mr. 3 smirked pridefully. "Small fry." He started forming some wax from his hand.

"Let's do it!" At Usopp's command, Karoo ran... backwards, into the jungle with him. "Alright! Preparations are complete! We got your backs, guys!"

"Hm?" Luffy turned around. "Did you say something?"

"Now you're mine! Candle Lock!" The captain's ankles were trapped in a waxy restraint.

"Luffy!" Venus' eye widened.

"What is that?!" Usopp exclaimed.

"Lufy-san!"

"Damn, he's already gotten caught?!" Zoro griped.

"Idiot!" Nami complained.

Luffy looked at his stocks in confusion. "What is this? It's heavy, like a mallet!"

"How simple. Now, for your hands!"

Luffy knocked on the wax, and had an idea. "Oh! This is perfect!"

"Candle Lock!"

"Whoa!" Luffy jumped away in time to avoid the attack, and pushed himself in the air. "Old giant guy!" He started wrapping his stretchy arms around one of the spikes on Broggy's Viking helmet. "Sorry to bother you!"

Mr. 3 watched in shock. "What?! What's he up to?!"

"Gum-Gum... Mallet!" Using his stocks, he sent the pumpkin topper collapsing.

"He did it!" Nami and Vivi cheered.

"Yahoo!"

However, their joy turned to terror when it started falling towards them... only for it to land on the next tier.

Luffy held onto the spike, his ankles now free. "Lucky! The mallet on my legs broke too!"

"Luffy!" Venus yelled out. "It's spinning again!"

He turned around, and realized she was right. "Huh? Huh?!"

Nami panted from the scare. "I'm alive."

"We survived," Vivi sighed in relief.

"That didn't help things at all!" Zoro complained.

"Whew, that was dangerous! Why didn't you guys run?" Luffy asked obliviously.

"We can't move! Isn't it obvious?!" Nami and Vivi raged simultaneously.

"Oh? Really? But you guys told me to break the pillar! Were you lying?"

"Is it really a good idea to put our lives in his hands, Mr. Bushido?!"

"Don't look at me. That's the only choice we got here. Plus it looks like my arms are stuck now."

"Please be serious about this!"

"Hold on... it feels like my body is hardening more and more now," Nami realized, and her breath shuddered, "I can't move at all now."

Mr. 3 laughed evilly. "Fools! With the candles closer, your hardening has sped up! Now you can become wax figures even quicker!"

Usopp watched angrily from the sidelines. "That guy thinks he can act all smug and arrogant!"

"Hey! You guys are gonna be wax figures?"

"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Nami shouted.

"Just destroy this set, Luffy-san!"

"R-right! Okay!"

"I told you, I won't let you interfere! Wax-Wax Arts! Harpoon!"

"Exploding Star!" Usopp shot an explosive in Mr. 3's direction... only for Mr. 5 to eat it himself, as Luffy managed to dodge the wax weapon, and jumped down to the ground.

Mr. 5 belched out a ring of smoke. "That was rather bland. You don't use very good gunpowder."

"He ate the Exploding Star!" Usopp gaped in shock, alongside Karoo.

On the structure, Zoro was starting to feel stiff himself. "This is bad. It really is fast. Good thing I posed beforehand."

"You idiot!" Nami raged.

"Luffy-san! Please hurry!"

Luffy sent his fisted hands reeling behind his back. "Alright! That pumpkin's the bad thing, right?! Hang on! Gum-Gum..."

"It's no use! Candle Wall!" Mr. 3 formed a large wall in front of him.

"Bazooka!" To his dismay, he hit the wall instead of the pumpkin. "Hey, you! Don't get in my way!"

"That would be my line," He smirked, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't interfere with my creative abilities. Candle Lock!"

Luffy grinned when his right hand was encased in wax. Just as he was hoping for. "I got a mallet! Gum-Gum..."

"Oh no! Candle Wall!"

"Mallet!" He hit another wall... but it crumbled, along with the mallet, so he was hit.

"Hurray! Hurray!" Usopp cheered with Karoo.

"Yeah, Luffy!" Venus pumped her fist.

"Mr. 3," Mr. 5 watched him fly away.

"Impossible!"

"Luffy! Hurry, and break this set while there's still time!" Nami pleaded.

He was suddenly very calm. "No."

"Quit joking around, and hurry!"

"No."

"This is no time to be acting stupid!" Zoro scolded.

"Luffy-san! Please!"

"Luffy!" Venus exclaimed. "What's gotten into you?!"

He kept standing in place, almost like he was in a trance. "What should I do? I don't feel like saving you guys."

Nami stared on in horror. "What are you saying?"

"Colors Trap." Turned out, Ms. Golden Week had interfered in some way.

"Hey! Luffy!" Zoro shouted. "There's no time! Do something about this thing already!"

"Yeah... I know."

"Then hurry!" Vivi ordered.

"Yeah, Luffy!"

He was standing on a strange, black circle painted in the grass. "I know, but... but I don't feel like saving you."

"Why do you keep saying that?!" Nami yelled angrily. "We're the ones about to be wax figures! Understand?! We're about to die!"

"Yeah. But for some reason, I just can't get motivated."

"This isn't a motivation problem!" The trio shouted all at once.

"Venus-san!" Vivi called for the witch. "Can you use your magic energy balls to break this thing?!"

"I'll try!" A determined Venus prepared an attack. "Witchy-Witchy... Ball!" She shot an energy ball at the pumpkin... only for the spinning to not cease one bit. It left barely a dent. "No good! It's too hard!"

"Try to make a bigger one!" Nami ordered. "And hurry!"

"Alright! Mm..." Venus started to try willing the energy ball to grow between her hands. It was working!

"Oh no, you don't! Candle Lock!" Mr. 3 restrained her wrists in front of her, sending her attack flying away uselessly. She toppled to the ground, unable to handle the heavy weight.

"Venus!" Zoro's eyes widened.

"Venus-chan!" Usopp watched from afar, as Luffy still didn't move. "D-dammit! What's happened to him?! Our friends're gonna die if he doesn't hurry! I'll bring him back to his senses! Let's go, Karoo!" Before they could go in, Mr. 5 and Ms. Valentine suddenly appeared in front of them. "W-when did you-?!"

"Give it up," Mr. 5 ordered, "He's already fallen into a trap."

"That's right. See where he's standing?"

"Where's he standing? Let's see here." Usopp flipped up the lenses of his goggles, and noticed the paint under his feet. "What's that? There's a strange, black pattern; what's so important about that?!"

"You're right, it's nothing. It's just paint." Ms. Valentine laughed evilly.

"Paint?"

"In other words, both of you are goners!" Mr. 5 went to swing am explosive kick at Usopp and Karoo, but they managed to fly away.

"Karoo!" Usopp grabbed his reins. "Let's just run for now!"

"He's planning to escape on the bird!" Ms. Valentine glared.

"Let's get 'em."

"Sprint at full speed!" Usopp ordered, but it was given too soon; Karoo ran even faster, leaving him behind. "Hey, you! Wait! I haven't gotten on yet! Karoo!" He looked back, and realized he was trying to catch up. "Hey! Alright! Stop! Let me get on!" He only ran faster. "What's the point of being scared of me?!"

From the structure, Vivi noticed a certain someone standing behind Luffy. "Ms. Golden Week! This is your doing!"

"Colors Trap: Betrayal Black." Venus' eye widened from her place on the ground. "Touch the black paint, and you'll want to betray your friends, no matter what they say."

"What does she mean?!" Nami asked. "What happened?! Explain!"

"She's a realist painter, who can even create real colors of emotion!" Vivi replied.

"Eh?!"

"Her refined sense of color can manipulate people's minds through the use of her paints."

Zoro glared down at the ground. "Manipulate?! That's not good! That simpleminded idiot is already easy enough to manipulate!"

"Then doesn't he just need to get away from that paint?" Nami suggested. "Luffy! Get away from there!"

"No, don't!" Vivi protested. She had a plan up her sleeve, "Luffy-san! Whatever you do, do not move from that black circle! I'm begging you!"

"Vivi! Why?!" Nami exclaimed.

"We don't want you to save us at all!" Vivi continued.

Venus listened in surprise. What was she doing? "No," Luffy said bluntly after a beat of silence, and stepped out of the paint.

"I get it," Zoro commented, "You made him do the exact opposite of what you said."

Luffy's head snapped up, now out of the hex. "Huh? I-I was kinda weird just now."

"Luffy-san! Hurry!"

"Alright! I'll save you right now!" He started winding up for an attack, only for him to burst into hysterical laughter. "But never mind, you guys! I just wanna laugh!"

The trio gaped in horror. "Why?!" Nami glared.

"Why, you...!" Zoro raged.

"Now what?!" Vivi shouted.

There was now a yellow patterned circle painted on the back of Luffy's red vest. "Colors Trap: Laughter Yellow." He was on his stomach in the grass, punching and kicking. "You know you're not supposed to move." He just continued laughing.

"Now it's on his clothes!" Nami fussed.

"Luffy! Take off your vest!" Venus ordered.

"N-never mind that!" He sat up, and hugged himself. "I just feel like laughing!"

"Not good!" Zoro complained. "If it keeps raining down at this pace, we won't last one more minute!" From above, he saw Usopp on Karoo's back, running away from Mr. 5, and Ms. Valentine. "Did you guys come here to play?!"

They sprinted all around the area, soon bumping into Luffy. "Look! When Usopp ran into him, the paint on his back smudged!" Nami pointed out.

Luffy was out of his trance. "Did I wind up doing something again?" He then turned to glare at the artist. "Hey, you! Knock it off, you jerk!"

"Was Laughter Yellow funny?"

"Shut up! Are you stupid?! Stupid!" He then averted his attention to his friends. "Anyways, I gotta break that pumpkin! Gum-Gum...!"

"Colors Trap: Bullfight Red."

"Bazooka!" To his confusion, his hands laid on the new, red mark.

"Where are you aiming?!" Zoro exclaimed.

"You're not allowed to break it!" Ms. Golden Week ordered. "You'll make Mr. 3 angry!"

"What is this?!" Luffy shouted. He couldn't move his hands away!

"Just as bulls rush at red capes, you feel the urge to attack that Bullfight Red mark. Too bad."

Luffy let out a scream of frustration. "I can't stand you anymore! Get out of here! Gum-Gum Bazooka!" He tried again, but still wound up on the mark.

"Having fun?"

Nami watched the exchange hopelessly. "It's no good. This isn't his kind of fight. All his power is useless!"

"Now to finish it with this! I'll mix the Laughter Yellow on your back with Sadness Blue. Colors Trap: Tranquil Green!"

Luffy seethed in rage, before he relaxed, and joined the picnic. "Such nice tea."

"You idiot!" The trio shouted.

"So, what happens now?" Nami asked.

"See?" Zoro smirked. "I told you, you should've posed! Too bad for you!"

"How can you still be so calm about this?!" Vivi exclaimed.

Meanwhile, Usopp and Karoo were still dashing through the jungle, with Mr. 5 and Ms. Valentine hot on their heels. "Damn, they run away fast!" The former griped, then leaped into the air. "Nose Fancy Double Cannon!"

They managed to dodge, and ran out of the smoke. "You missed! Way to go, Karoo!" Mr. 5 landed back next to Ms. Valentine. "My turn! Special Attack: Lead Star!" He shot a bullet, but it was easily dodged. "We gotta go back to Luffy, and the others again!" They soon disappeared into the trees.

"We're getting nowhere, chasing them all around," Mr. 5 remarked.

"Yeah," Ms. Valentine agreed.

He took a revolver out of his jacket. "I didn't want to use it on such small fries, but there's no dodging this. A.44-caliber, 6-shot flintlock revolver. A new South Blue model; it can fire continuously, and if I use it, the bullets are invisible."

'Luffy's acting that way, because of that paint the bad guys mentioned!' Usopp thought through the sprint. 'They're related somehow! There was also some on his back when I crashed into him earlier! No doubt about it! If I can just do something about the paint!' "Hurry!" When Karoo ran faster, they made it back to the clearing. But he could only gape in horror; Zoro, Nami, Vivi, and Broggy were wax statues!

"Ahh, such nice tea." He turned around, and saw Luffy having a picnic with Ms. Golden Week. "Such nice..."

"Luffy! What're you doing?!"

"He was hit with Tranquil Green!" Venus replied.

Despite his calmness, Luffy was deeply frustrated, and feeling helpless. "Such... nice... tea."

"What are you doing, you idiot?!"

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 141/310

2014 Belgian GP

Alright friends it's time for Spa! I think I like Spa. I guess we'll see if I do. Also we have a build up this time so that's good already. 

(Here’s a warning : this is The Long One I just had so much to say and I went on so many rants I’m very sorry)

EDIT : so I calculated that it takes about 25 minutes to read 🥴🥴🥴 just so you know before you start. Again, my apologies.

Jordan thinks there'll be team orders this time for Mercedes, as to avoid any incidents at the start especially. DC disagrees. 

Quali report. It was a really really wet one. Hulkenberg went out in Q1. He said he had no confidence in his car in these conditions. Valtteri is only 6th. The Ferraris have been looking good all weekend but Alonso went off and he starts from 4th. Ricciardo made a mistake and he starts 5th. Seb is 3rd. The Mercedes were 2 seconds ahead of everyone else!!! But Lewis is still not friendly with his car and he went off as well, while Nico had no issues. So that's Nico on pole, Lewis 0.2 behind, and then the others are truly 2 seconds away with Seb +2.126 behind, I can't believe this shit this is insane. 

Wait wait wait what did I hear? So there's been a driver change at Caterham with Lotterer making his debut. I don't even know who he is replacing lmao but that's not what caught my attention. Lotterer out qualified teammate Ericsson and that makes the journalist react, saying it’s quite unexpected. DC says "It's contrasting stories, really, isn't it? We've got Max Verstappen, a young guy being a question mark over is he too young to come to Formula 1 at 16-17, of course next year, and we've got Lotterer at 32 making his debut with vast amounts of experience." Wow. It's the first mention of Max I hear in this rewatch. (Also I keep saying rewatch but I'm watching for the first time so it makes no sense.) It is insanely young to sit in an F1 car, isn't it? Damn.

Anyway. Rosberg is 11 points ahead of Lewis in the WDC standings. 

DC is catching up with Jenson and they can't help but talk about Lewis. He says it's good they're battling for the title and that Lewis seems stronger in the head than he's ever been, even with the issues he's had with the car. 

Oh dear, it’s apparently starting to rain lightly… 

Also silly season has started and rumours say Alonso has had a meeting with Redbull. They're talking about Bianchi being a possible candidate for Ferrari if Alonso does go to Redbull. It's a bit heartbreaking so I'm gonna move on. 

Oh so Max has been signed already wow. I hadn't understood. I thought they were just talking about it but Helmut Marko signed him. Eddie Jordan is listing all the young drivers that came too soon and are now gone from F1 and tells Redbull they should be very careful. I mean. Listen. Not a Max fan obviously but you can't really compare him to Alguersuari or Grosjean (who came back). That's just insane. 

Alright it's time for the race, I'm switching to skysports commentary. 

Formation lap 

Oh there's a problem with Alonso's car. His team is still working on it after the time limit. The other cars leave. He's gonna get a penalty for that but if he can start the car now he can at least start from his spot on the grid. And he does that. 

There's very very light rain. 

Oh and Lewis is reversing on the grid because he missed his box which is great for my nerves. 

And they're racing… 

And he gets an amazing start! He's ahead! HE'S IN THE LEAD BEFORE THE FIRST CORNER! Seb is also ahead of Rosberg! Oh and there's been contact at the back I've seen something fly. Yellow flags. And Seb is catching Lewis! And he attacks in the straight! But Lewis has the inside line in the next corner and Seb goes straight on and loses a place to Nico. Phew. Yellow flags again. Cleared. Oh but that's Bianchi going around the track with one tyre completely wrecked. Wow this is such a long track compared to Hockenheim, we're only now completing the first lap. So Lewis is in the lead, but Nico is only half a second behind. Then Seb, Alonso, Ricciardo, Bottas, Raikkonen, Magnussen, Massa, and Jenson in the top 10.

Lewis makes a slight mistake and the fight is on. He goes defensive, holding the inside line, while Nico attacks. AND THEY TOUCHED! That's on Nico. He couldn't make it so he tucks back behind but he didn't do it fast enough and touched Lewis’ rear wheel with his front wing when he put himself back in position for the next corner. AND THAT'S A PUNCTURE FOR LEWIS FUCK he's dropping back… and he's completely opposite to the pits they just started a new lap I'm so pissed. Over the radio, he says Nico hit him. Fuuuuuuck. And the tyre has started to shred and that might be too much damage by the time he gets to the pits nooooo. Look like I said it's Nico's fault but imho that's a racing incident, it's very much unlucky that it had such an impact… yeah. Lewis is speeding to the pits and the tyre is flying all over the place in tiny pieces. Yellow flags. Lewis is finally in the pits. He goes again. He's P19. Nico is struggling as well. Ted says Lewis had damage to the floor and that it'll be an issue. There's a lot of debris on the racing line from his tyre. Spa I was saying I think I like you why are you doing this to me. Apparently Lotterer has stopped at the entrance of the pitlane. Daniel overtakes Alonso for P3. Yellow flags again. Lewis on the radio. "Floor's damaged, right?" He sounds worried. Bono says he'll need to have a look at the photos but thanks for the feedback. He's not gaining places at the moment, but a lap later, he sets the fastest lap. Come on! Bono comes back to him with a plan. He needs to stay on this tyre for 15 laps, so he should manage the rear left and he sets him a target lap time at 55.7. But Lewis is not convinced. "The rear left tyre is not going to go to lap 15." In the meantime, Ricciardo overtook Seb. And Valtteri overtakes Alonso for P4. Nico is about to pit and they're changing his whole front wing. It's gonna cost him. Yeah. That's a 10.0 stop. That puts him in P15. Lewis is still P19. I'm switching to x2 speed because I don't have time for that shit. It's lap 10.

Oh wtf? There's something dangling from, like, the antenna of Nico's car?

Oh. Brundle says he thinks that's part of Lewis' destroyed tyre. And Crofty makes the funniest "aha?" that goes up at the end that makes it very clear he sees the irony. It looks incredibly dangerous, in any case. It’s flopping around and looks like it’s gonna wrap around the steering wheel. Seb pits. Kvyat pits. Hulkenberg pits. We can see on a replay that Nico tried to tug the debris away as soon as it got stuck on his car but couldn't do it. Alonso gets a 5 seconds stop and go penalty for the issue before the start of the race, which is weirdly lenient. Ricciardo pits, he's ahead of Seb. Lewis P17. He's the second fastest man on the track at the moment. Rosberg is closing on Seb but he locks up MASSIVELY and is under pressure from Valtteri now. And here he goes! He overtook him with such ease! He's now catching Seb. Lewis pits. It's a quick one, but he went 14 laps instead of 15, and he's back in P19 so. Yeah. Not a good race for him… Nico pits as well. 

It's lap 20. Daniel is in the lead followed by Raikkonen and Seb. Then there's Valtteri closing fast on Seb, Magnussen who's far behind, Alonso, Jenson, Perez, Kvyat, and Rosberg is out in P10. Lewis, moodily : "should save this engine guys." Bono : "Lewis, don't worry, it is being discussed, but your pace is good (x2), we never know what's gonna happen with safety cars or anything later, so let's just keep plugging away and we will keep discussing it here." And we don't hear that in the broadcast, but I read in the transcript Bono then adds : "Lewis, you may not feel it but your pace is good. You're only a tenth off being purple in the middle sector. So anything could happen. We'd be kicking ourselves." He's so warm and comforting and reassuring and consoling. Come on Lewis, don't give up!

(I always find this part of him very interesting, because he really is very prone to pessimism. I mean it might be obvious but of course it makes sense he preaches positivity as much as he does, specifically because he naturally gives in to negative thoughts very easily himself. We’ve already talked about that at some point iirc. Anyway, back to the race.) 

We're halfway through and Nico is back up in P5. And then he slows down and is back in P6. He must have made a mistake. Lewis P16. A couple of laps later, Rosberg in P3. Lewis on the radio again. "Guys even if I catch the guys in front I have no downforce." He is absolutely done with this race and wanna go home but that's not in the job description. "OK Lewis, message is understood, but you do have good pace and if we had a safety car then there is all to fight for," answers Bono. "We are not concerned about the engine, just keep your head down and let's keep plugging away." 

It's lap 30. Daniel is still in the lead but Raikkonen has pitted and is now P3, with Nico in P2. Seb is P4, Valtteri P5, Magnussen P6, Alonso P7, Hulkenberg P8, Perez P9, and Jenson P10. And Valtteri overtakes Seb for P4. Lewis is in P15, and he gets called in, out in P16. Grosjean retires. Rosberg pits for the third time, Seb pits as well, and Valtteri gets himself ahead of Nico, but Nico is on fresh tyres… and he overtakes him for P3, and then Raikkonen for P2. Daniel is 20 seconds ahead… Lewis again asks his team to stop him and save his engine. Babe there's 7 laps to go, shut up and do it. Bono answers again, basically, they hear him but no. The engine isn't an issue. He's still 16th. Ah come on. Come the fuck on. On lap 40, with 5 laps to go, they do retire him. That is sooo SOOOO SOOOO stupid. Why. Honestly. Fucking hell. Why did you let him do all this for that. Also why did you give in to him complaining instead of making him do his very well-paid job to the end tbh. Stupid ass team, this was a lesson moment. This race has been infuriating. 

Extremely close racing from P5 to P8 now, between Magnussen, Jenson who's performing actual miracles to stay ahead of Alonso without crashing into his team-mate, and Seb. Final lap. 

And it's the end of the race. 

It's another win for Ricciardo. Rosberg P2, Valtteri P3. 

Ted asks Niki what he said to Lewis. "I said sorry because for him it's bad, no question about it." He says Lewis was clearly in the lead. "Why in the second lap? This somebody has to explain to me," he says. He says these things can happen when there's a fight all the way to the end but not in the second lap. They say they will all have a meeting, and see what they're gonna do, but he thinks it's a bad result for the team, altogether, and Lewis. 

On the podium, Rosberg gets loudly booed by the crowd. He's kinda apologetic, saying they touched "unfortunately" and it hurt both their races and it's not good for the team. Jordan asks about responsibility and he says he shouldn't comment as he hasn't seen it. 

Back to the BBC broadcast for the post race content. We hear from Toto. The journalist says Nico good booed. Toto looks extremely depressed, it's so weird. He just nods with a sheepish expression. Doesn't say a word. Oh he's pissed. When the journalist asks about the incident he says "absolutely unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable". He says on lap 2 of a long race, between teammates… They've discussed that situation before and it happened that day. He's asked about who's to blame as well. He says it's clear what happened out there. "You don't try to overtake with a knife between your teeth, is that how you say? On lap number 2 and then damage both cars." He says he believes this is a decisive moment both for their battle and for the team. The journalist asks what Lewis told him after the race. "Oh, he's very upset," he says. "But there is not a lot to say, I mean. We've kept him out there for a long time with a very damaged car uh… he will recover quickly, that's how he is but uh… obviously not very happy at that stage." Last question : "Toto how are you gonna handle this situation now?" Short pause. "It's gonna be handled." He smiles, but only with his mouth. If I was Nico I'd be shitting myself. The main presenter (Susie, not Wolff) and DC scoff and raise an eyebrow. The message is clear and Toto's fury is palpable. 

There's stuff to say there. But I'll wait a bit more because I've seen that the BBC also had a word with Niki so let's hear that first. 

He says it's unacceptable for him that in the second lap (emphasis on second) Nico hits Lewis. (He calls them out by name.) "Very simple, unacceptable," he repeats. He says there's gonna be a meeting but it's unacceptable. He says they can talk about it if it happens at the end of the race when they're fighting each other. But making such a mistake in the second lap and letting Redbull and Ricciardo win (he takes his cap off and puts it back on), "I have to say they did a very good job", but it's ridiculous. The journalist asks if they had this discussion prior to the race : please don't hit each other in the opening laps. "So far I thought that they're clever enough to know that," he says, "but now we have to discuss it. Very simple." 

The BBC reminds us that's a talk they had in their broadcast before the race, about team orders etc. and that they were disagreeing about. Jordan thinks this is the team's fault for not forbidding them to overtake each other in the opening laps until the race settles down. DC thinks that it goes against what a racer is and you want racers in your cars. Jordan says the drivers are team employees, you can't just let people go and do what they want to do, and that the team is paying the price. DC says he accepts that, "but in defence of the drivers…" Jordan cuts him off again. "Forget the drivers for a moment," he says. Susie says "you can't!" and Jordan loses his calm a bit "of course we can! Why defend the drivers when they're completely out on a limb?! The team is not exercising what is normal control, here." Well obviously Jordan was a team owner and DC a driver, and it shows in their opinions. Susie, who's smarter than both of them combined, reminds them very calmly that everybody has been very excited that Mercedes has let them race all season and that's what has made the season what it's been. She says Jordan is saying the opposite of what he was saying at the beginning of the show. Jordan starts rambling about a conversation he's had with DC, "we even brought his wife into it" (and indeed they talked about who takes decisions at home and it was incredibly cringe) "but leave that aside for one moment" and DC nods gravely and Susie says "yes please". He says he thinks they should have given team orders because it's Spa and the weather is changing and letting them race from lap 1 instead of from lap 4-5 was "stupid". But DC says in a boxing match you don't tell the boxers to not knock each other out until the 5th round so we get some value. (Mh not so sure it’s true.) (And sure enough :) Jordan says they do. And DC says well they shouldn't. Anyway DC thinks Nico didn't do it deliberately and was clumsy. "He knows he's not as good a wheel to wheel racer as Lewis" and was frustrated he lost the lead. He thinks it was almost inevitable for them to make contact at some point of the year (that much is true, imo).

Susie asks what it means for Lewis who's now "far" behind in the WDC. They both agree "it means war". (I think back to the "Nico hit me! Nico's hit me!" radio message and I wonder if there was a hint of surprise in Lewis' voice). DC says what's interesting as well is the public reaction because they all know Nico personally and he's a genuinely nice person but he can't seem to get the public behind him, and he doesn't have the team support right now (and that's what I wanna talk about). Ohhh interesting. Susie says Nico has gone to one of the biggest newspapers in the UK and he bought a column in it to try to win over the British fans. She asks if he's lost the support he could have had from that. Jordan thinks it was fragile from the start. He says RTL is down 30% which would be unimaginable if it had been Schumacher. He points out it's confusing because he's German with a Finnish passport living in Monaco. Susie points out the German didn't embrace Seb either. (Maybe the Germans are the problem then. Jk. Sorry to the Germans.) She says it's like they loved Michael and they can't love anybody else. DC says a German colleague told him they could relate to him as coming from a working class background. (Yep). 

Okay wait. We have Lewis' interview but before that I wanna comment on some things there, because as Toto said it is indeed a pivotal moment.

So yeah, very interesting how everybody is rallying around Lewis there. Remember in the last race how we were told the team apologised to him because the car gave up on him in quali? That also made me tick. It's a very, very interesting twist. We know from the past seasons that Lewis struggled to get the team's support in McLaren. We've seen him struggle to trust them and struggle to keep them motivated in their hard times and struggle with these relationships. It's almost surprising that in Mercedes, where he is the newcomer (I mean it's his second season there but Nico was there first), the team is rallying around him. What changed there? I don't have an answer, you'd have to have been there, in the backrooms, in the meetings to see it happen. (A lot of that was discussed in my asks since then.)

Now don't get me wrong. I've said it from the moment it happened : it was Nico's fault but truly it was a racing incident. It wasn't a huge rash mistake. It was a tiny error that had big consequences. I agree with DC that it was pretty much inevitable anyway, especially given that they let them race. It was stupid as all fuck and team seniors are right to make sure Nico knows that but they are taking such a strong public stance there, I find it very strange. You'd think it was the 2010 Turkey Seb-Webber crash when it really could have been nothing and they got very unlucky.

It's undeniable Niki loves Lewis. He's there for him. From the start you can hear in every of his post race interviews that he's his focal point and Nico is an afterthought. In his opinion, it seems, Nico is a good driver and he's good for the team mainly because he pushes Lewis further. 

It must be such a change of pace for him. Knowing that people are in his corner, backing him up, defending him, publically, loudly, proudly, and he's not fighting alone. That has not been the case, ever. People have always recognized his talent and underlined it at McLaren but I often had the vague diffuse feeling that he was on his own rather than part of a team. That's different with Mercedes and it resonates to this day. I can feel the rise of this magnetic aura he has nowadays, that I find very obvious, that makes a number of people around him act like he isn't completely human. Even most of the other drivers. They treat him differently, like he's an idol, in the religious term. It's like the air bends around him. Even though the young drivers wanna beat him, you can tell they can't help but lose their cool a little everytime he interacts with them. That's how it feels right this moment, seeing this team (and the public) so unequivocally defend him, against better reason (like, idk, basic PR rules). 

I wonder how much of that is due to him being the underdog and incredibly unlucky that season. I guess we'll see how it evolves and whether it changes at some point. (From what I’ve heard from some of you, it does.)

Also about Nico not having the public support. Well. Yeah. No surprise there. It's really interesting because that didn't really change to this day. He's really a golden boy, rich af, extremely privileged and so extremely naive about it? Like, shockingly naive. You're telling me the man bought a column in the UK's most read newspaper to try to get people to like him?! It's a dick move, love. You're just. Being rich. And you're doing that on Lewis' territory? Why not in Germany then? Why not in Finland? Absurd! He clearly means well, he's not mean, he's not an Alonso, he's not purposeful about it but he's just. So. Incredibly. Idk. Sheltered? Senseless? It makes me feel a bit sorry for him, in a slightly condescending way. He's trying so hard but so clumsily. Actually not unlike his racing now that I write it down? His overtake, his mistake, it's exactly that. Naive, senseless, and clumsy. Damn. Parallels. 

Let's get back to the content. 

Lewis says during the drivers' parade he saw so many British flags and the support was amazing and he's gutted he couldn't give the fans a good result. (His attitude is interesting, when he's pissed at a result he usually doesn't wanna talk, but he is talkative there, just very serious.) He doesn't know what to say. He sighs. He says we couldn't see it but he was driving so hard to try and do what he could with the car but it was so damaged…

He says he's gutted for the team. "My guys," he says (which accentuates the whole support thing, because I don’t remember hearing him use a possessive when referring to them), they've worked so hard on "my car", "we've had such a difficult time this year" and he had a good start and it was looking good. He says he took the corner as he normally does, "it was my line and…  I don't know why he hit me but erm… (inhale) I'm sure he'll leave here happy." He tilts his head to the side with a smile.

She asks how big of a moment it is in the championship. He was upset after Monaco, is it worse now? He hums. It's not worse, because it can't really get worse than Monaco. But it's not good. He says it took him a long time to gain thirty points last time, and we've seen it can change very quickly in Silverstone but his (Nico’s) car very rarely stops, "so… it's looking good for him for this season now."

She says he stayed out 20 more laps after first asking to retire. She asks what were the benefits of staying out and whether the team explained that to him. He sighs again. He sighs a lot throughout the interview. He says he wasn't giving up as he was driving (mmmh…) but he knew he couldn't do it, he couldn't catch Grosjean whose car is much slower than theirs. And once he did catch him, he couldn't stay behind him because the car's balance was so bad. He says he thought about the fact that in the last race weekend he lost an engine because it caught on fire, so he's one engine down compared to Nico, so that's why he wanted to save this engine because he's gonna have less laps in practice than him. (Okay I see his point.) She says he's been fighting very hard against the odds this season and he seems still very emotional standing there, what is it gonna take to win the WDC now?

Another pause, another sigh. He says there's a lot of things going on in his mind and of course you start to think maybe it's just not his year but he "can't let that overtake everything there's still 7 races" and he's gonna push, they've got a great car and a great team and he believes in them.

Another pause. "Who knows whether some fortune will come my way but I'm just gonna give it everything I can for these next few races because that's all I can do".

Now listen, because that's very interesting. She asks if it matters that Niki and Toto have been very much on his side, does the speaking needs to be done on track, does he speak to Nico?

He sighs again, it reminds him of school. The teachers would have a talk but they did nothing, "or you get a detention", but he thinks it won't even be that here, "I guess it'll be– all they can do is really (sigh) say that was not good and… we move on. He got those points today, the stewards didn't act on it and he's now 30 points ahead so (sigh, shrug) you know I just have to regather my thoughts and just approach… just be attacking (he smiles) like crazy in the next couple of races."

Alright. Let's take a second again. I'm sorry if this is a very long review but there's so much to analyse here, as I said I truly think it's a turning point. I was just saying how it must be a change of pace for Lewis to be supported like he is at Mercedes but clearly he doesn't feel like he is yet. It's gonna be interesting because you can tell he doesn't trust them to have his best interest at heart and to take the right measures to assert that. You can tell there's a lot of, I don't wanna say trauma because I don't know, but baggage there. We know he's been bullied in school and it's very telling that he's bringing school up at that point. He feels bullied. He feels like a victim in this situation. It seems his whole life he's been left to deal with these feelings on his own. We know his father has many qualities but he wasn't a very comforting father. We know he didn't defend him. Lewis loves to bring it up, but the whole "do your talking on the track" is, also, an admission of powerlessness off the track. He had to do the talking on the track because he couldn't defend himself off of it, because of the stigma, and the racism, and the fact that they weren't treated like they had the same rights as the others, as their bullies. We know his principal singled him out for being a racing driver and didn't support him and even punished him for it so you know he's faced injustice and he's never seen justice being served when that happened. Nobody has ever defended him but himself. Think of the fact he took, was it judo or karate?, to face his bullies, also think of Abu Dhabi and all of the '21 season and what that has meant for him in that context. It's the same thing all over again, in his eyes : the bullies aren't being punished, the people in power are protecting them instead of him, the principal is out to get him any way he can. Fucking hell. That puts a lot of things into perspective all of a sudden.

Let's get back to 2014. So that's what's at stake here as well. Not just the friendship (it's probably too late already), not just the WDC (there would have been other years), but the feeling of belonging, the feeling that people have your back, the feeling that they won't let you fight alone. It all depends on how the team will react now, and for the rest of the season, and for the rest of Brocedes. And maybe, maybe, that was Nico's role in Lewis' story. Someone had to be sacrificed for him, to him. Someone had to be put second so he could be put first. 

Jordan feels it too but without the hindsight I have. He kind of refuses to comment on it because he says he needs to listen to it again, because "he obviously has a message in there, and he wanted it delivered, the message, and I think that message is critical to the team and how his car is run." 

The message, I think, is "do you have my back and if so prove it." 

DC agrees with Susie that it's an incredibly well thought out interview, and he's impressed with how he's able to gather his thoughts in the car, even though he's incredibly emotional while he's racing. He says he enjoys, and that's a good point, how Mercedes allow their drivers to talk (and I'd say all the team members because Toto and Niki didn't hold back either). He thinks it'll bring the team popularity. 

And here's the kicker. The cherry on the cake. The Wikipedia article states that Nico "received an undisclosed punishment from Mercedes for hitting Hamilton". Although the stewards investigated it and concluded, like me, that it was a racing incident. Lewis later said after a meeting that Nico had "basically" admitted that it had been intentional to "prove a point" and that he (Lewis) didn't have to only rely on Nico to avoid it as he could have avoided it as well.

(At some point in this rewatch there will be something to say about Lewis' tendency to get paranoid when he comes under pressure but this is not a very good argument for it as we don't know the truth and there's enough in this review anyway. Also I have a gut feeling that the may-or-may-not-be paranoia is gonna get way worse later on so we’ll talk about it then.)

Toto also somewhat backed Lewis on this, saying after the meeting the collision could have been avoided, it was Nico who attacked and "it was also to show he was not prepared to give in". Nico initially said he didn't do anything wrong, and didn't see any risk in his manoeuvre. Then he denied Lewis' version of the meeting but refused to say what he said in the meeting, to "keep it internal". In one article, a Mercedes spokesman said that Lewis' version was "broadly accurate" but Toto said the part about admitting the crash was deliberate was "nonsense".

(See, let me get back to the paranoia thing after all. (sorry) What I mean is that when he's under pressure he sometimes makes wild claims, like sometimes on the radio, saying people did things on purpose and then he regrets it when he's calmed down. Something does happen, I mean it's never completely unwarranted, but then the question of whether people did the thing with bad intentions or not is up to interpretation and I feel like he tends to believe by default that people are out to get him, especially in tense moments. Which is understandable given the context and the whole bullying thing I mentioned earlier but it's worth keeping in mind. This may or may not be the case here. Like it might be that Nico said something ambiguous that could be interpreted as "I did it on purpose" and that's how Lewis heard it but could also have been interpreted with more nuance which Lewis didn't.) (And I don't blame him for it given the context.) (But still important pattern to keep in mind imo.) (Because if not relevant now it will definitely be relevant at some point.) (OK sorry let's keep going.)

Five days after the race, the senior members of the team held a meeting with both of them. That's when Nico got the undisclosed punishment. They still maintained the no team order policy. Nico accepted responsibility and apologised to Lewis, Mercedes, and the fans. Lewis admitted in a statement he made mistakes in their rivalry over the year and that it would be unfair to put all the blame on one driver. "There is a deep foundation that still exists for me and Nico to work from, in spite of our difficult time and differences." 

So now. The question is, I guess, was the punishment enough in Lewis' eyes to convince him he's not fighting alone? Is he fighting alone?

[bookwyrminspiration]

i just finished stellarlune and i need to make up for the time i lost not hitting the “view post” button on your posts tagged as stellarlune spoilers so. ramble at me if you want. gonna go scroll your blog forever and ever now

I saw all the notifs from you scrolling my blog; did you have fun? Did you have a good time? I hope so! Anyway, I have no idea what I'm going to end up rambling about so we're about to find out together.

I feel as though both so much and nothing at all happened. And also that it was all thrown at me very quickly. When I was making the timeline there were two points where several days pass at once (there's a week taken to prepare for the Trix meeting we don't see, and Sophie goes through several days stalling for her confession) so that likely contributes to it. And I can't help but feel it's a bit jarring.

Reading through (at least the first time, that may change with rereads) it felt like we'd skipped a step or two to get to where we were. Sophie started going off about Elysian and power sources and I was sitting there like girl slow down what are you saying.

I think my overall conclusion is that this is the sokeefe book. Not in the sense that this is the book where sokeefe went canon, though that's true as well, but as in this book exists for and is dedicated to the arc of sokeefe. That was it's primary focus start to finish, from Ro's teasing and the letter in the beginning to the kiss at the end. Sophie was focused on it and thinking about it, so we couldn't get away from it, even though there were other things peppered throughout. And I think that's why it's kinda meh to me at the moment. I don't dislike it, but it's dedicated to something I don't happen to care much about.

I can understand why it was done, as this has been something building up for the better part of a series and does take more time to address, but even with a whole book focues on it sokeefe somehow still felt rushed. Truly incredible how that happened. But either way, Stellarlune is intended for an audience with different interests than mine--which is totally fine! I loved Unlocked (and still do), while many in the fandom hated it when it came out. I'm not saying it's bad, just that it's not my favorite :)

I don't have a copy of Stellarlune with me at the moment (my dad's borrowing it) so I'm probably forgetting to touch on things but like. This felt like a very character focused book, and with a limited number of characters. Even with everything else that happened in the book, that's what left the biggest impression.

Oh! Rayni! I can touch on her! To be 100% honest my first reaction was "..Rayni??? that's your name?" Something about it caught me of guard. I was very satisfied to see the tribunal from book one come back around, as I hadn't expected it to. And I do appreciate the idea of someone going through similar hardships to the rest of the kotlcrew and turning to the Neverseen instead. That part about how the Neverseen got to her first or however it went? Chef's kiss. I absolute love that idea and her connection to the Neverseen, it being her only option and all that. Rayni herself? I'm still warming up to her, but I do enjoy having her around and am pleased to know more about her, even though it seems a little late to be adding in completely new characters to the books.

OH and Elysian. Can also talk about that too! I've said it before and I'll say it again: Stellarlune feels like the first half of an arc, so I don't want to judge it until I read the next book and see how it plays out. That being said, what. What is going on. This has been planned from book one, apparently, but it also feels completely out of left field. There's a power source and it's a person? This person is their world's best kept secret? There's so much going on in that that without the full information I don't think i can nearly get into it the way I want to. Do they power the Lost Cities? Do they control it all from behind? They like, turned of people's abilities, so do they grant abilities to elves? Are they where abilities come from? Who, what, when, where, why, how? Elysian raises so many questions and I can't ask them because I don't have the info to ask the right questions!

I'll just say one more thing: Sophie is. a lot right now. She got on my nerves this book, but I also can't blame her for it because she's 14 (15 in elven years). I can completely understand why she acts the way she does but it also makes me want to shake some sense into her like please please please think about things and stop yelling at people who are trying to help you. But being 14 fills you with rage so like, i get it even if oof.

Anyway those are some of the impressions this book left on me and I am so so curious to read the next one because I need answers. I need to know. I gotta know what's been cookin in Shannon's brain for the last 14 years.

[radioromantic-moved]

LACKADAISY‏‏‎ ‎WATCHED. OHHHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHH I LOVED THAT SHIT. gonna make a fucking BULLET POINT LIST. and only my BEST FRIENDS get bullet point lists. dude i'm HYPED THAT WAS GREAT

-that gorgeous golden lighting at the beginning and end...the lighting in general!!!

-the way every character is animated like. slightly differently in a way that speaks to their personality!‏‏‎ ‎rocky is literally rough around the edges, ivy is a little softer and more traditional cartoon,‏‏‎ ‎mordecai is straight simple shapes...AUGH AUGH AUGH

-i love rocky. silly goofy ass bitch. he was so fucked up :)

-everyone’s little kitty behaviors. the hissing the twitchy ears…getting all fluffed up…

-okayyy listen i was still kind of holding out hope that i was over my edgy emo boy phase just because like. aspects of it still make me embarrassed to think about. and i've been getting used to shipping with a Particular Kind of Guy. and it's hard emotionally to like characters that a lot of other people like too. but gang i think we're in trouble because before the episode even started and i was listening to comic dubs a mordecai‏‏‎ ‎fic idea got itself caught in the brainworks and damn it i really want to fucking write it.

-the mix of 3d-ish assets and traditional 2d...eats it eats it eats it

-i love all the voice actors but ivy's especially made her sound like such a cutie pie i love her. definitely my other favorite character.

-mordecai's‏‏‎ ‎ticking clocks motif carrying over from the comic...

-THE WAY IVY'S REFLECTED IN HIS GLASSES WHEN HE PUTS THE GUN DOWN I'M...she was the only one of the three who was‏‏‎ ‎at the‏‏‎ ‎lackadaisy‏‏‎ ‎at the same time as him. i might cry. i might really truly cry. i NEED to see more of them i need to see it now if it doesn't become part of canon it needs to be a fic. actually! it might be a fic! i remember seeing something similar once! HOLD ON!

-it MIGHT have been part of a collection of ivy drabbles i found on fanfic.net. at least that seems to be the most likely culprit. not exactly the same as i remembered it i think they were in a car but it was fuckin' precious. so it's okay.

-ivy trying to drink the alcohol and having a terrible experience and going "ohhh what a! sophisticated! flavor...!" is so me when i drink literally any alcohol. so far it's all been bad but i need people to think i'm cool. okay. okay. okay.

-ugh yeah i have to reread the comic now. i have to. no choice. this was too fucking good. god. this was so amazing it totally deserves all the praise it's getting and if it gets made into an actual animated series i'll blow up firework mode (again. a good thing. i like the phrase firework mode.)

[ducknotinarow]

[07 Uncle Raph and Ariel]

"Uncle Raph?" Ariel speaks up, eyes wide and curious, "Can you keep a secret?"

She's sure he can, she trusts her Uncle Raphael with everything. Ariel knows he'll keep his beak shut about this,

"Well, I went out and explored the tunnels today," She says with a smile, knowing she shouldn't be doing so alone, "One led me outside, and there was this guy there in this really long black coat watching the ocean - a-and he saw me," Ariel admits, "But he wasn't scared, he said he knew me and that his name was Bishop and I'm his Granddaughter."

Oh no,

"I don't think that's true but, he said he took your eye and that you know him," She smiles, tilts her head, too young to truly understand the danger she had been in, "Do you know him?"

| Muse interaction

Raph had a odd little habit of his it came in handy when they were all tots themselves but also far more so when they started leaving the lair and grew older. Donatello may seem like he was a well behaved child but he liked to bite, he loved to argue and be right, and he loved to explore. Which seemed to have pass on to a little big eyed smiley little girl. With hair as green as the seaweed under the ocean that she just was drawn out to at nearly any given chance they had. Much like how Raph could always find his way to his twin though seemed he could do the same with his niece. Arms crossed over his plastron as he smiled to her once she caught sight of him. it seemed pretty obvious to Raph she hadn't been around the lair. Like some had thought to be the case. Clearly she was trying to sneak her way back inside unnoticed. Hoping to have been unnoticed at least. Raph was gonna love telling Leo he was doing an awful job with his training later. Then again Raph used to sneak in and out himself so he might just be good at telling, nah Leo sucked and he was gonna rub it in his face.

"here ya are guppy." Raph just states as he smirks to her "wondered why there seemed to be a missin' trouble marker at the lair." Raph states as he makes his way to meet up with here now. She might not get he was referring to her dad being one as well with that comment though. "You didn' run into anyone again dija?" Tone growing serious now as he paid a moment to look her over. If any humans tried to hurt here again he swore he would-

"Uncle Raph?"

He stops and simply gives a nod of his head watching how her eyes somehow found a way to grow even larger. Brimming with questions it seemed? well guess that should be a good sign or she be upset again right?

"Can you keep a secret?"

He hums a moment as if hes thinking it over, of course he would keep her secret. Messing with her was just fun is all. "I dunno sound s'ike a tall order guppy but I guess since we're family an' all I can make an exception. Alright what dija get up to now?"

"Well, I went out and explored the tunnels today,"

Yeah, that bit seemed pretty obvious to him.

"One led me outside, and there was this guy there in this really long black coat watching the ocean - a-and he saw me,"

Ariel admitted and Raph froze a bit "What?" he didn't raise his voice of course he had promised to keep her secret and drawing attention their way would mean ears would start tuning into what they were talking about. And look she was fine so clearly nothing happened. So he thought. The detail that this guy was dressed in long black coat though? got to him even more. Part of him knew where this was going, another decided to let denial run his mind for now instead.

"But he wasn't scared, he said he knew me and that his name was Bishop and I'm his Granddaughter."

Fuck.

"I don't think that's true but, he said he took your eye and that you know him,"

Suddenly, Raphs whole mood dropped at the mere mention of Bishop. Worse at the mention of what happened between them, lifting a hand up to the right side of his face. It took a long time to get used to it, relaying on the one eye. Everyone eventually stopped treating Raph as helpless since he focused himself to adapt. In part he had seemed to get better with his sense's since he only had one eye to relay on. Sometimes he joked he could go fully with out either and still kick ass. A way to say he was fine so no one would fucking hover over him anymore. Tried of the idea of needing an 'issue' of his 'fixed'. With the help of an implant or something else, he always blew it off. It was easier that way let it roll off his shell.

Other times? it was like he was stuck there again. Sometimes his mind made him think Yvoone helping him out was something he made up only to wake from a drug en dosed rest.

"Do you know him?"

"what?" He zoned out a moment there looking to her smiling as she simply tilted her head to the side. Right. he chewed over a moment as he rubbed his fingers just over the missing eye. "...yeah I know him all right." Raphael slightly growled when he answered. Raph got mad often in truth Raph was more mad than anything else. From the small minor inconveniences of life to the big stuff. He felt it deeply and anger was how he reacted. But hating something? was far less common for him than one may think. But he knew one thing for sure he hated Bishop. Smiling over him, didn't matter how many drugs they pumped into him that day. Raph was able to tell what had happened to him. The pleasure Bishop got out of it. How it felt to get his eye prayed right out of his head. "An' if I ever see him I'll return the damn favor." Raph grunted a little looking to Ariel a moment. One would think seeing her or even her mother would pay as a reminder. Nah he wasn't that bad. It wasn't their fault for what happened.

It was Bishops and Raphael's.

Flexing the fingers of his free hand a moment a few times as he started taking in where he was slowly. Feeling cold stone under his feet, the smell of Splinters tea was heavy. Must be brewing up tea right now. Ears trained to the sound of soft muffled voices just a ways from them. He wasn't able to fully make out who was talking in the moment, but it was enough. Letting his eye close a moment before dropping his hand back to his side. "Ariel stay away from that guy." The fact he had been anywhere near his niece was bad enough. Turning away from her now "i wont tell you saw him 'em." he had promised after all "but if ya wanna know an' thing 'bout him? ask someone else." He says it firmly. If Raph can keep that guy out of his life he will. Sure run ins were gonna happen didn't mean Raph would seeked to make due on his 'paying back the favor' comment form before.

Lifting his hand up into the hold of his left as he started to rub at his wrists. Handing how it started to shake at the vague memories coming to mind right now. Not here. Not now. Is all he tells himself internally. Starving off the panic that wanted out of him right now. He'll sneak out later tonight that'll help. "Come on Guppy i'm sure someone else will notice eventually that ya took off again." But this was all she would get from Raphael, he was shutting down any more chance for talk about the man she met and saw. She could talk to her parents he figures well seeming to forget who her parents were at the same time.

"Summer wants to see if ya folks will let ya spend the weekend with us by the way" Shifting his focus to his kid did help as he could feel some ease. Thinking about her pleading as if they ever say no, but still was kind of funny. "Wanna see if they can part with ya for a few days?" he offers finding that more soft guff he normally spoke with now.